#3. Aroma strawberry

[st4rbwrry]

𝓢𝓤𝓖𝓐𝓡.       eren yeager.

‎𐦍 ₊˚♱ ෆ . . . 5.1k. fem!reader, set in 01’, country!eren + bluecollar!, housewife!reader, established relationship, domesticity, ovulation, oral ꒰ f + m. ꒱, kreaming + squirting, rough sex, nasty talk ofc, unprotected, daddy kink, spanking, pet names ꒰ sweetie, baby, mama ꒱, praise, hair pulling, check ins + aftercare, choking, breath + sensitivity + salvia play, minors aren’t allowed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . a lil sum i thought of randomly. this is related to the dangerously in love couple. <3 visual. visual. visual. wish i had a link for the exact position i have in my head, so here’s a small example. hopefully i explained them well. :<

part three. <3

ivory sunflowers are imprinted along the frilly apron that hugs your body cutely, the coquette lace floral dress with a baby pink ribbon to create a corset style underneath. the warm scent of strawberry pie baking in the matcha green vintage oven blooms your heart. dusting flour over the counter to roll and mush at the dough you’ve created for the chicken pot pies, one of eren’s favorite meals. the sun was fairly hot today, your eyes fixating on the two beautiful tawny cows roaming your farm, their mouths chewing at grass as the wind blows serenely.

you told eren to keep a close eye on them while he was outside, watching your husband stand halfway down the driveway with sweat dripping from his brow as he tinkers with the engine of his polished black 1968 ford f100. he’s been having troubles with it this past week, and constantly handling it became tedious. he expressed his anger a few times now, this truck being his first big purchase for himself and he was having issues only a year later.

his light blue levi jeans and classic wife-beater was streaked with grease, clinging to his muscular thighs as he crouches low, peering intently at the mechanical innards. every so often, he wipes his hands on a rag before reaching for another tool, his calloused fingers moving with practiced ease. the sun casts a glow on the definition of his biceps as he lifts and maneuvers heavy parts. angelic brown strands held back by a black cap turned backwards.

you’ve been subconsciously humming along to the 70s and 80s rock tunes he has stationed on the radio. don’t dream it’s over currently on play. meanwhile, inside the cozy farmhouse kitchen, with the tantalizing aroma of food and your chocolate brown maltipoo who eren named honeybelle sleeps on her bed by the window — although this moment was romantic and peaceful to view, you weren’t too happy of a woman.

this was one of the few days he was off from work, and he’s been outside fixing his car since your eyes opened to an empty bedside. it’s nearing nighttime, and you’d spent half your day to your lonesome. shaving your body, doing your skincare routine and deep conditioning your handful of a curly head that’s currently pinned up away from your soft features. it’s felt like such a long time since the two of you enjoyed a full day together, let alone make love. your ovulation period not making this any easier on you, feeling like a wild animal in desperate heat. the only time you really interacted today was when you brought out a fat honey-turkey club sandwich, knowing he tends to forget to eat sometimes.

brushing the crust you created for the pot pie after layering them in crisscross patterns with butter, your mind wanders off, daydreaming as the sun begins to set and the sky blooms into color palettes of saffron and coral. the air outside turns warmer, and you study your husband once more, watching the ball in his throat shift as he chugs on a pitcher of water, droplets hitting his chest. his briefs are peaking out from his jeans, feet in his black timberlands per usual. his arms have veins streaming from the middle of his forearm to his big, dirty hands. silver wedding band on his right.

those slanted viridescent eyes of his catch your stare as he glares at you over the pitcher, swallowing and giving you a movie star smile with pearly whites. you smile faintly, returning the gesture. your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, shifting in your spot as you realize you’re biting your lips and almost riding the air. your blood is thrumming throughout your body, needing him to come inside right now.

the chicken pot pies are done in thirty minutes, each crust perfectly golden brown. and within that time, he’s still outside messing with his truck. you wanted to be understanding that he needed his truck in order to head to work tomorrow to further provide for you and the home as he does, but you can’t help that feeling of abandonment in your chest. you really didn’t want to cause an argument, but this was becoming irritating.

removing your apron, you slip on your outside shoes to head towards the garage where he resides, being faced with his broad back and gruff noises of agitation.

“baby.”

“yes, sweetie,” he replies quickly, groaning as he twists the wrench.

“dinner’s done. you’ve been out here all day. please come inside,” you pout, going to wrap your arms around his waist, laying your cheek on the column of his back.

eren removes his cap, scratching at his head before smoothing his hair back and placing it on again. “mhm, baby, i know. gimme like ‘nother hour, i just gotta connect the fuckin’ valve springs to the camshaft.“

“i thought it was just overheated?”

“yeah it was, the water pump wasn’t sending coolant through. the crankshaft wasn’t movin’, ‘n the radiator cap had too much pressure so the spring in the cap compressed ‘n flew over in the coolant reservoir. glad i ran to the auto shop beforehand.”

he’s saying a lot of shit you don’t understand if being frank. sighing, you let go of him, knowing he was real intricate with his truck so he definitely wasn’t going to be done in an hour. he stops what he’s doing to turn and face you, observing your expression.

“what i say about that, mama. huh?” eren sighs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “don’t be givin’ me that face. i’m tryin’ my best right now. swear ima be in, i’ll make it forty-five instead.”

“that’s not the point,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “fuck the dinner, i want you to be with me. you’ve been out here since eleven in the morning. not once have you come inside the house ‘n checked on me.”

his jaw clenches, your tone expected but not what he wanted to hear right now. “i ain’t tryna argue with you.”

“then don’t, help yourself to dinner.”

“꒰♡꒱.”

turning with clear attitude, you stroll back into the house, honeybelle barking softly as she follows you around. you feed someone in the house, pouring kibble into her beige bowl before patting her head and watching her scruff down the food. by this point you’d lost your appetite, huffing and puffing in your kitchen as you set the food back into the oven and made your way up the staircase.

to cool yourself down, you decide to run yourself a bath. twisting the gold faucet to fill the clawfoot tub with hot water, crouching on your knees to swish the water around to help form the bubbles. it was fully dark outside now, lighting aromatherapy candles and opening the double vintage windows that overlooked the farm you and eren spent years creating. stars in the sky and clouds camouflaging. undressing yourself, you grab a novel off of the shelf and submerge yourself into the tub, closing your eyes in bliss and leaning your head back against the spa pillow that elevates your neck.

eren manages to take approximately thirty minutes to finish up his project, starting up the truck and test driving it before he sighs in relief to see she’s back in shape. after parking it back into the garage, whistling at the cows to get them to follow him back into the barn after much needed playtime, he’s finally stepping into the house. honeybelle skips towards eren, sniffing at his ankle and wagging her tail. eren smiles, patting the top of her head.

“where’s your mommy, girl. huh?” he coed, scratching under her chin.

his eyes scope the dining area, finding the table set up just for the two with candles that were half burnt, blown out. the homemade sweet tea in a pitcher leaking with condensation, ice cubes melted. the pie you baked was set into a glass cake stand, and the pot pies are settled into the oven under the light. it was definitely clear you were upset with him, groaning and putting a hand on his head. he truly didn’t mean to take away this day from you, aware of how much you’ve missed him. hours at work are longer since the power plants needed more tending to from low employment.

just last week he had to go out of town and leave you for an entire three days to travel to another refinery. in that time you’d tend to your farm while also helping eren’s father with his. you knew what this lifestyle would mean for your relationship. things around the house including you will be secure, but having him come home exhausted to the point where you rarely spend as much time as you’d like with him was difficult. at most he had two days off a week, but a lot of times they’d call him in because someone else didn’t show up.

you’ve suggested countless of times that he should switch locations, but this one provided better benefits and he was close to a promotion that would also guarantee him extra off time. ‘it just takes time, baby.’ he’d constantly tell you. and you’re not one of those wives that complain about every single thing to make her husbands life harder, the two of you rarely even argue, but you do have your moments where you’re too stubborn.

the heavy thud of his boots sounds in the home as he heads up the stairs, softly calling your name to see where you reside. with his hand on his toned stomach under his shirt, he finds you rested in the tub, head turned away as you sleep comfortably. his tall frame leans against the doorframe, watching you with a pout on his face. you look angelic, cloud white bubbles flowing around your body, the jets in the tub keeping them in tact, slowly dissolving. the tankless water heater he installed a while back kept the water warm, making you comfortable enough to drift off to light slumber.

he makes his way closer to you, crouching before you to brush the tendrils of curls dangling in your face. your breath is light, lashes feathering against your cheekbones as he caresses your jaw with his thumb. he bends to pull the plug and drain the tub, not fond of you sleeping in water. you didn’t have it too high up, but people drown in tubs a lot more than you think.

you hum gently, eyes opening to see him looming over you, studying him in silence. sitting on his behind, he grabs a pedicure knife to clean under his nails, tattooed arm dangling into the tub and under the running faucet to remove the impurities.

“don’t like you fallin’ asleep in the tub, sweetie. you could drown. this isn’t your first time doin’ that,” his brows deepen, grabbing a nail brush and applying some of your cashmere and goat milk soap you currently smelt of with to scrub at his manicured fingernails.

you bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms over your knees. “sorry.”

eren scans your face, eyeing the beauty of your entirety. perfectly white painted toes and matching nails, dark, big curls framing your face, slowly falling from the claw clip on the back of your head. the fullness of your lips with the cupids bow curve of them. soft skin, pretty eyes . . you were all his. such a beautiful wife. so when you’re mad at him, it makes him feel like shit. the way you look at him is different as well. your eyes are dead almost, a scolding glare in them.

“this day was supposed to be for us, i know,” he breaks the silence. “old shit was being difficult, ‘n you know i gotta drive far, sweetie. gettin’ ‘n a crash isn’t somethin’ you’d want happenin’ to me, right baby?”

the frown on your face serves how you feel about that. “i’d lose my mind if something bad happened to you.”

“ ‘n i’m not tryna guilt trip you or anything like that. i understand how you feel. i miss you just as much. i think about you all fuckin’ day at work. but, as time passes, eventually i’ll be in a better position ‘n you can have me with you whenever you want. jus’ lemme handle shit, okay?”

his strong hands go to caress your ankle, the silver jewelry shining there, lifting your foot to kiss at the shape of it, eyes low and focusing on you, unable to help the heat that swims within your hips and core.

“i really just needed you so bad today,” the sound of your throat clamping up causes him to go alert. you bow your head, wanting to hide your face as the tears threaten to spill. “it’s so stupid. i spent all that time pampering myself and cooking for us — i just hated being alone, even if you were still here.”

“c’mon, baby. why you cryin’ ? none of that. i’m sorry, truly,” he’s rising up on his knees, kissing at yours.

“missed you touching me,” you whimper, sniffling and pouting. “missed your kisses. i miss you.”

ah, so that’s what it is. he doesn’t make any effort to hide the smirk on his face, scoffing lowly while dropping his head. you can be such a brat when you’re horny, and given it’s been about two weeks since he’s last fucked you, he now gets why you begged for him to be with you today. quality time was still needed, but he can tell by the way your body tenses and your lips part to release tiny gasps while he strokes the pads of his fingers across your hips . . that you’re ovulating.

“that’s all you needin’, mama? some touches?”

salvia trails down your throat as you swallow, thighs squeezing together out of reflex, throbbing from those damned eyes of his, nodding with hooded lids. “mm hmm. so bad.”

“mm, yeah?”

the butterflies in your stomach swarm as he brings his face closer to yours, his touches on your skin causes you to grind when his mouth suddenly connected with your throat, your jaw widening as you gasp and toss your head back, his mouth sloppily kissing at the right side of your body. lips moving from your collarbone, each sound coming from him emphasized as he sucks at your chest, pulling your areola into his mouth and trailing his tongue down the side of your stomach, down to your hip and the crease between your thigh and waist. every kiss and lick is rough, his groans exaggerated as you moan from every touch.

“ooo, fuck. oh my god,” your hips can’t stop moving, his tongue gliding back up before his fingers indent into your cheeks, turning your face to his so he could kiss you roughly, sliding his tongue on yours.

eren doesn’t kiss you for long, detaching your lips with a lewd slick, both of your lips pouty before he’s arching over the tub and guiding his mouth along the left side of your body, repeating his motion of sucking and licking you. your eyes gloss back, spreading your thighs further apart when he gets closer to your pussy, swallowing your bottom lip inward.

he cocks his head back to lewdly spit over your clit, the string of saliva and the vein on the side of his thick neck making your face heat up. your mouth hangs open as he takes his fingers and slowly spreads it over, grumbling, "want me all over you," before rubbing your clit in smooth circles, groaning at the weak noises you made.

you were so needy, every touch he gives you consuming, a lust and desire looming over you that only he could give you. your hips twitch and hike midair, and your positive you've made your lip bleed by how hard you bit into it, doe eyes hazily watching his face. brows furrowed as he tentatively paced his fingers, repositioning himself so he could tug you down flat in the tub, your knees pressed to your chest as he clutches onto the sides of the tub.

“hold ‘em there, be good.”

a squeal envelops eren’s ears once he cranes his neck and drops his mouth over the puffy nub, enclosing his lips to kiss at your folds. your pussy is soaked, dripping between your ass cheeks, inner thighs twitching while he licks you up. the cap on his head continues to hold his hair back, his biceps flexing from every noise you make, trying to keep his composure. he wanted to make you feel real good, you deserve it, and he’s missed you.

“b—babyyy,” a mix between a groan and a whimper flows from you, keeping your legs open and squeezing at your chest hard, slowly rocking your pussy on his face, voice shuddering from the feel of his light stubble on your soft skin.

eren spanks the back of your thigh, dragging his mouth to soothe the feel after with an open mouth followed with more of his tongue. he loved tasting you, clearly. melting on the velvet of his tongue like sugar. his chin is doused by your slickness as he buried his face deep, circling your clit in languid strokes, lower lip dropping to bring it back into his mouth. you’re never embarrassed by how loud you get, knowing you’ll be reprimanded if you do keep silent. so a pathetic, drawn out whine fills the space when he removes his mouth.

“feed it to me,” eren hisses, spanking the back of your thigh again, french kissing either side of your ass. the hungry aggression through his eyes tell you to listen, his body almost entirely inside of the tub to make sure he’s giving you what you need the right way. “c’mon, girl.”

the gruffness in his tone makes you squirm, like he’s just as pent up as you. easing your hips up, you hold your legs fully up so they’re past your ears, gripping on his arm for balance as you dip your hips so your pussy connects with his face, your face curling up as he spits and slurps, your body trembling.

“mmmahh,” you weakly moan, chest heaving and breath stuttering, his tongue occasionally dipping into your hole to taste that sweeter place, eren grunting and bouncing his head along with your movements, teeth every now and then biting at your inner thighs. “g-g’na—squirt, f-fuck, nnnngh.”

eren acts on instinct, reaching to grab the back of your neck as your body arches forward to hold you so you won’t hurt yourself, swallowing at your achy bud as you coat his throat in your juices, humming and savoring every ounce. the static of your legs as you sing out your moans makes his dick harder, straining in the confinements of his jeans.

he pulls away, your body flat within the tub as he stands and undoes the leather belt on his waist, ears perking up from the sound of his zipper and then awaits the weighty girth of his dick. blush pink tip and tan with a protruding vein trailing up the underside. you find energy to lift yourself up, clinging to the side of the tub like a mermaid on rocks. reaching for the back of his leg to pull him closer, eren’s brows lowered at the sight of your eyes setting into seductiveness.

your mouth opens instinctively, giving him those big brown irises that has his dick jump in your face. eren’s waist spasm backwards, fingers grasping the coils of your hair to stop you. “no, no. not now. y’know you’ll make me cum too quick.”

“y’know you can’t fuck me till i taste it,” you pout, evidently upset, keeping your lips parted as a need to have it. “just a taste, daddy. i want it.”

“fuckin’ hell,” eren clenches his jaw, pupils dilating, lowering his jeans and boxers to his thighs to inch his dick to your lips. “yeah, jus’ a lil taste, baby. gimme those pretty lips.”

eren moans when you waste no time intaking half of his dick, tongue licking at the underside and slurping him up, bobbing your head and letting him hit the back of your throat in nasty squelches. his head falls back then to the side as he squeezes his eyes shut, attractive neck showcasing, grunting and slowly thrusting into your throat.

“f-fuck, ꒰♡꒱. love this sweet fuckin’ mouth of yours. show me that throat, baby,” two hands go to clutch your neck, eren pulling his dick out, salvia dribbling down your bottom lip. you widen your mouth, angling your face up so he can see your tongue in it’s entirety, the tight ring in the hollow of your esophagus calling him.

“good girl, take this shit deep,” he whispers painfully, teeth clamped together in a hiss as he lays the heaviness of his dick on your flat tongue, pushing in till his pretty, leaky tip connects with the back of your throat, constricting around him. “a-ahh, yeahh.”

you let him use you as long as he anticipates, eyes drooping low, trying to focus on eye contact with your nose mushed to his happy trail, the scent of the day and his cologne seeped into his skin. you heave when he pulls back entirely, whining and riding the air. he’s so damn masculine it makes you so feminine and submissive.

“one more time, hold it,” bending his back slightly, he slides back into your mouth, gently holding your neck in place to thrust a few times more, deep melodies of grunts and hisses pouring as he furrows his brows and studies how you made his dick wet and shiny, balls slapping against your chin.

with your mouth stretched open, you take him in as deep as he likes, closing your eyes to shut off your brain so you don’t choke. eren holds you there, huffing out ‘ooh fuckin’ god, baby.’ before smoothing his hand on the side of your face after he withdraws his hips to let you breathe, his own chest knocking from holding his breath.

“love you,” eren reminds you as he peppers kisses all over your face and you smile, a continuous gesture he’d do every time to make you aware, especially when he’s too rough.

the trance you have on his dick is sickening, following it as he maneuvered around the bathroom, retrieving a towel he spread on the lower part of the tub before entering, not bothering to take off his boots. you giggle as he hovers above you, biting at your nail and shifting your body beneath him so he could slot in. the weight of his cock lays on your stomach, eren grinding to rub along your folds, coaxing your hidden clit to show. eren steadies his figure, knuckles turning white from him grasping either side of the tub and holding himself up by indenting his feet into the towel.

“i fuckin’ need you,” eren growls, biting at your neck before licking and shifting his hips to nudge the tip against your opening, easily sliding in slow.

the warmth fills your face again, abdomen pinching from pain and pleasure, pawing at his slightly dirty wifebeater and hiking it further up his chest you were desperate to touch. the silver chain around his neck sways in your face, squinting your eyes and dropping your jaw when he begins pounding into you with the need he expressed. the sluice of your pussy is loud, his balls slapping against the rounds of your ass while your thighs hit his pelvis.

“this what you needed, right? what you been whinin’ for?” eren grunts in your face, taking your lips in his for passionate kiss, moaning together.

“y-yesss, mmmph,” the pleasure swarming in your stomach feels foreign, whimpering from every stroke he gives you, clawing at his sides. it felt so fucking good, your eyes scrolling and your breath inordinate along with his. “dick feel so good, ‘ren.”

“mhm hmm,” his face curls up, leaving an open mouthed kiss on your cheek and behind your ear, his touches making your body burn. “i hear it, she’s creamy as fuck.”

and it was, peering down between where you two connect to see him covered in you, the sticky slaps making his eyes lose focus, rutting into you harder. so hard it makes you scream, that sweet spot being pressured and your tummy flutters.

“e—ren,” you can barely see him, whines and whimpers being your only way of communication. spreading yourself wider by holding yourself open with both hands, arching your chest into his face where he sloppily eats at your brown skin again.

“talk.”

“annngh,” your lips turn into a pout, face completely gone. every word and sound coming out brokenly. “f-feelin’ something. s’so fuckin’ deep in me. you fuck me so good. w’na cum on it.”

“mhm, cum on it. cum on your dick baby, make it creamier.”

it’s quiet at first when you cum, legs shaking almost violently as eren lets go of the tub and lays his entire weight onto you, tucking you fully underneath to angle his hips and dig his dick in deeper, rough and steady pivots making you reach for his hair to tug, knocking off his hat. his fingers grip your cheeks, big hand almost covering your whole face as he brings his forehead to yours, growling rough.

“yess. give. it. to. me. lemme hear it.”

“g-god, y-yessss, fuck. right there, right there. please don’t fuckin’ stop . . oh my god.”

a long, exasperated groan disperses, vibrating in your chest and in his ears, hiccups and gasps following as you clench and suck him tighter. he feels the throb from your orgasm, dick twitching inside of you, rolling his waist and keeping you close to let you ride it out and feel it longer.

“take your time, there we go. feel it all.”

it pulsates harder from hearing him, grasping his wrist and releasing what’s been caged within you; a cry. “oh . . my . . g-god. eren!”

it’s not that you’re hurt, it’s that you’re experiencing too much at once. overwhelming pleasure, your husband’s embrace, the way he speaks to you, fucks you, the love you have for him, how he loves you, and even the annoying rise of hormones from your ovulation. a cry bolts from you, body convulsing and your voice dying out, grinding mindlessly on his dick and kissing his lush lips.

“that’s it, it’s okay.”

eren’s kissing all over your face, soothing you and giving you time before he holds you close to his chest and turns himself around so he’s leaning up, resting his head back on the spa pillow and twisting you so your back is to his chest. he balances your weight, taking the initiative to sling your right arm over his shoulder, eren smoothing his palms up the back of your thighs before locking your knees to your chest with his forearms.

“you good, baby?” eren whispers, smooching your cheek again.

chewing at your lips, you nod. “uh huh.”

eren moans as your fingers thread through the brown coils of his hair, tugging and planting a kiss on the shell of his ear, jumping slightly from the way he patted your pussy with his dick, sinking back in deliciously slow. with your lips parting in sync, eren flattens his feet to fuck up inside of you, your walls spasming from how good it feels and the sensitivity.

collecting the tresses of his messy hair, you fist it harder which makes him fuck you harder. your tits bouncing on your chest you fondle at.

“watch us,” he says, placing both of his hands on either side of your head to force your head down to stare at how he fucked you, keeping your legs locked with his arms.

the sloppy collision of your stickiness coating his cock that plunges into you roughly, his heavy hits making the both of you whimper. eren begins to grow so weak from being in your pussy and the hard labor he’d done today, and you can tell by the slowness in his pace after a few minutes. he’s throbbing hard, knowing he’s close to cumming, wanting to making him feel it too. he also had to get up early and still eat dinner, so did you.

“ ‘ren,” slithering your head from his grasp, you guide them to sit at your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as you tug at his hair again and nibble at your bottom lip.

moving your body further up, you arch your chest forward and implant your feet flat to the surface, snapping your ass down to fuck him instead. eren tightens his hold on you, jaw slacking and squeezing his eyes shut while placing his forehead on your shoulder. you gasp, bouncing on him and constantly groping at your chest, skin clapping louder.

“you g’na cum in me, baby?” you speak with a whiny tone, taunting him.

“y-yeah, baby. please. bounce on that shit harder,” eren sucks at your side again, retracting his hand to land a harsh spank under your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “fuck, you do it so good, ꒰♡꒱. do it so good.”

“mmmm,” you smile drunkenly. “this daddy’s pussy, right?”

eren whines, and you love when he gets this way, so horny he lets his guard down. makes sounds he wouldn’t usually make. his tongue on you again causes your hips to stutter, that pressure building back up, a shaky moan pressing out the harder you fuck yourself on him.

“it’s daddy’s pussy. oooh, shit baby. don’t stop, i’m g’na bust all in your p—ussy.”

“all in my pussy?” harder, faster, you pounce your ass down, knees hiking and reconnecting as you drop down completely, feeling your orgasm near and riding him by scooting your ass on him.

“all . . in it— fuck. good girl.”

weakness fills your bones, loosing your balance completely, eren bellowing out curses and grunts as he locks his hand around your neck to pull your back to him again, swiveling his hips with yours while you both ride out the wave. heaving on the side of your face after he lays his cheek on yours, warm cum leaking into you while you gush all over him in exchange.

eren softly kisses at your shoulder, embracing you in his hold and moaning from your walls clenching on him. you can’t even find the energy to speak, enduring the comforting silence and weak breathing. rubbing your arms and molding his face with yours, skin to skin a necessity for him. rocking you side by side, smiling into his forearm he used to lock against your neck, inhaling the coconut fragrance in your hair.

“we need a shower, and that chicken pie i worked hard to make for you.”

“and that strawberry pie,” eren chuckles within the crook of your neck. “i’ll eat it all just for you.”

“you better.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[sevikasbooyahh]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘

Pairing: Caitvi x Reader

Summary: Making your girlfriends crochet gifts for Valentine's Day <3

The strongest scent in the room derived from the book that Vi was reading. It smelt of vetiver, a smoky, earthy aroma that blessed your nose. “The Adventures of Harden,” she’d been reading it for a while—that huge chunky novel must’ve been filled with a butt ton of action.

Caitlyn was busy in a council meeting, she’d gone back to announce her departure despite her inner confliction. She needed a break from everything, to not have so much weight on her shoulders for once in her life. Vi was the one to have done most of the convincing, she’s good at it—not very surprising.

“What’s happening as of now?” You asked Vi as you looked at the block on text from behind her. She leaned her head back to look up at you, “Huh?”

You gestured to the book, “In here, what’s happening?” Suddenly, all the deep knowledge she’s memorized in this book was gone with a poof. She scratched the mop of pink hair atop of her head, “I—uh, don’t remember, sorry,” You feigned a disappointmented sigh, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Did you really wanna know?” Her tone was near concerned, as if afraid that you actually were disappointed. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “I’m just jossin’.” She visibly looked relieved, exhaling a breath. “What, scared I was sad to not hear your nerdiness?” The teasing tone in your voice made her quietly groan but not retort.

A part of her was a bit suspicious, just in general, she knew Valentine’s Day was coming up—and that you had to be planning something. But what? It could be anything, you had many talents. She internally scolded herself as to not think about it too much, though she couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up inside.

—★—

The floor creaked under weight of your feet as you walked through the hallway, headed towards your crochet room.

With how huge the Kiramman mansion was, many rooms went unused, simply labeled as guest or storage, this being one of them. When Caitlyn noticed that crochet was one of your prominent hobbies, she offered for you to use any room you’d like.

You specifically chose this one for it’s beauty.

Sunlight shined through the one large window on the left side of the room, lighting up the darkest parts of the room. The view outside of that very window, ships coming from different areas to land at their docks; the tall buildings constructed by genius minds.

Piltover’s beauty never failed to amaze you.

Your crochet equipment was neatly settled on the wooden oak table. As you sat on the black rolling chair, the kitten-like figures were what you decided to work on first. You could only think about your girlfriends—how you saw them, but in a more adorable form.

You looped the black yarn with the hooked needle, each small thread tightening together like bonded atoms. Throughout the past hour, you slowly worked your way up. Adding on a small strawberry hat to it, with specks of white as seeds and it’s green leaf top.

On to the next, not muchh different, other than colors. The white yarn was a stark contrast from the black—and instead of a strawberry hat, a blueberry one. The star-shaped pattern on the top to represent the calyx.

…

You carefully cut the loose string that hung next to the eye. Perfection. Crafted with your bare hands—to say you were only proud was an understatement.

—★—

You couldn’t hold the absolute joy you felt when you entered the living room with the box. Giving anything to the ones you loved was the best gift that you could ever receive; you were excited for their reactions too. You waited up to this moment to show something special—with meaning, non-verbally announcing your love for them. It’s not that you couldn’t say ‘I love you’ out loud (well, maybe), but you didn’t wanna just say it without showing it as well.

They’ve never received crocheted gifts before, it’s not that common of a hobby. That was even more of a reason for you to make it.

—★—

“What is this I see?” Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at the mysterious brown box. Vi peeked from beside her—similar to a cat; curious, eyes trained onto the box like it’d disappear in seconds. She made her way closer before you lightly pushed her back, “You will see what it is, be patient.” You shook your head in amusement at her eagerness.

The moment you pulled them out, Caitlyn’s eyes widened, along with Vi’s jaw nearly dropping to the floor.

Vi took the figure as if it were porcelain, as if her hands were so rough that it’d break it so easily. “No way,” she whispered, inspecting every detail.

Tears started to well up in her eyes as she stared down at the plush. “It’s…it’s—thank you,” her laugh was watery as she hugged you, brawny arms squeezing you tight.

Valentines Day was barely celebrated in Zaun, but she remembered when Powder would make her tiny gadgets or trinkets. To her, it was more than she could act for, even if those things were now destroyed, still laid in a pile of dust and debris.

Caitlyn was speechless, staring at hers in shock; the little baby blue streaks mixed into the white yarn, the navy blue hat matching her own hair.

This was…sweet.

Sweet as honey; straight from the source. The most wonderful project she’d ever seen—better than any architecture or design that’s been brought to her.

She couldn’t help but join in on the hug as well, her face burying itself deep into your neck. Where she felt safe.

They’d surely cherish this forever.

—★—

Bonus moment:

She closed her eyes and hugged the crocheted kitten, “I’m gonna name him Barry.” She announced to the both of you, feeling content. Caitlyn looked up from her own kitten, “As in ‘berry?’ Wow, creative.” She nodded, amused.

…

That night, as the moon was up and the stars were out—your loves were fast asleep. Caitlyn was curled in on herself, legs near her mid-section, arms rested underneath her head. Vi, however, had her arms wrapped around Caitlyn’s waist, cheek pressed against the soft of her back. Barry was squished in between.

A/N: The idea of crocheting is so cute to me but I don’t know how to😔

[whoskimii]

i'm cooking a lot of things yall, stay tuned babies!!

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > satoru x you. cuddling in the middle of a stormy night <3 nicknames (baby, sweetheart). tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

satoru stirred awake, a quiet yawn escaping him. his very first instinct was to tighten the hold he had around you. as he pulled you closer, he buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of your strawberry shampoo.

it had a sweet aroma, mixed with a creamy undertone. he felt his heavy eyelids fluttering as the pleasant, fruity smell made its way to his nose. he loved that shampoo. sure, it must've been a shampoo first thing first but to him, it resembled you. sweet and lovely. yeah, you shared traits with a literal shampoo.

the tip of his nose gently brushed against your velvety hair as he kissed your forehead. he tried his best not to wake you up but the noisy storm outside ruined his efforts. shit.

as he felt you shifting in his arms, he kissed your cheek. "it's just a storm, baby," he whispered lazily. "don't worry." he smiled softly as you let out a breathy hum. "mhm... 'toru...?" your head lifted a little, your pretty eyes meeting his. "yeah, it's me. your 'toru."

your hands weakly clenched around the t-shirt he was wearing. "m'tired..." satoru nodded. "i know you are, baby," he hummed. "i know."

his left hand made its way to your hip. soon enough, his fingers subconsciously traced the elastic band of your panties. "you comfy ?" he asked calmly. as you nodded slowly, he gently guided your head to his chest. "m'here. i'm staying, 'kay ?"

satoru's lips found yours. you both shared a lazy yet sweet kiss before pulling away. you settled back against his chest and at the same time, the storm made its presence known a second time. "go back to sleep, sweetheart. m'still gonna be here when you wake up." you lifted your head, chin resting on his torso. "promise ?" you asked. "always."

always.

i've got many ideas but feel free to send requests my loves <33

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[peachway]

My Fault: Lando's version <3

(fem!reader x Lando Norris) ✦ warnings - mention of drugs, bit violence and little blood                    ✦ word count - 4.1k

A/N - I do not own the plot and except for few, all the characters belong to Mercedes Ron. The London Nick has my heart and he's literally Lando Norris so I decided to write a My Fault: Lando's version <33 I have changed the plot just a tiny bit. And in the series i have a used nickname for the FEM OC, 'FRESA' (meaning strawberry in spanish) happy reading ✨                                                                

Third Person’s POV -

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and blueberry muffins filled the air as Charlotte platted everything with beautiful flowers. She wanted to make breakfast for her daughter all by herself. She knew Fresa was going through a tough time after her recent breakup, and Charlotte was determined to help her daughter heal and move on.

With a warm smile, Charlotte carried a steaming mug of coffee into upstairs, where her daughter was curled up on her bed, lost in her thoughts. The sight of her little girl made her heart ache.

"Hey, sweetheart," Charlotte greeted softly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and a faint smile touched her lips as she saw her mother, "I'm fine mom. I called Theo but he didn't pick." she sniffs.

"Oh it's okay, it's just a little break. This happens in long distance." Charlotte said stroking her hair

"Why does it feel like we have broken up?"

"It's going to be fine, give it a little time." Charlotte soothes her, "Now come on, breakfast is ready."

"Mom, I'm not hungry," Fresa said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Come on, baby," Charlotte coaxed, her voice soft but firm. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

"Just the coffee is fine," Fresa replied, retreating further into the cocoon of her blankets.

"I have a surprise for you," Charlotte offered, her smile widening, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

"Come join me downstairs." She said.

Fresa finally agreeing slowly got out of bed and followed her mother downstairs.

"Oh wow these muffins are really good."

On the kitchen island was Fresa's bestest cousin, Chloe.

"Chloe!!" Fresa screamed, her face lighting up with immense joy. She ran and threw herself into Chloe's arms, the two girls hugging tightly, their laughter filling the room.

"Surprise!" Chloe giggled.

The joyous reunion then settled into a comfortable hum, all sat down for breakfast.

"Wow mom you made everything?" Fresa smiled, impressed by the efforts.

"I can cook you know!" Charlotte laughed.

"I did made the muffins...I well helped with the batter." she admits and to that everyone chuckles.

"So baby I was thinking," she began, "Chloe is here for 3 days. So you both can go wherever you like, whatever you want to do, you can go crazy....and since it's your vacations, you can go to London with Chloe."

"London?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Yes. You know to see your dad." she said.

"Mom?" Fresa protested because her and her father's relationship wasn't in very good terms.

"You love Chloe right. Dad loves you too. I know he's done some stuff but he loves you baby." Charlotte says, "And you can also surprise Theo!"

"I don't know mom." she mumbled, taking a bite out of croissant from her plate.

"It'll be fun." she encouraged.

Fresa was initially hesitant, eventually agree. She did need some fresh air. And above that, she wanted to surprise Theo so bad.

Just as they landed Chloe informs that her dad had to go out on an important meeting and he was out of state and it brought a sigh of relief to Fresa. She still had to face him via FaceTime, however.

"Flight was alright, princess?" Clifford asked, his image flickering on the screen.

"Yes Dad." she replied.

"I'm out of town so stay with your sister for some time hmm?" he said, "I'll be there in few days."

"Okay." she replied.

"Call me if you any problem at all okay?" Clifford smiles. "Yes daddy." she nods.

"Chloe.." Clifford calls out.

"Take care of her. I don't want her to be involved with those guys. You Understand?" He warned.

"Understood uncle." she smiled.

"What was that about?" Fresa asked as soon as the call ended.

"Nothing." she dismissed.

"Listen baby, my boyfriend and I have take some time off work and are we currently living in one his villa near the forest."

"Okayy.." Fresa nods.

"So I'm gonna take you there. But please don't tell this to your dad. Please I request you." Chloe says.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because my boyfriend's father is kind of a rival to your dad and it's very messy. So please.." said Chloe.

"It's okay it's fine." she nodded.

Within an hour they had reached the beautiful villa. It was too perfect, mesmerising and straight out of a fairy tale. The modern white architecture blended seamlessly with the verdant darkness of the surrounding forest. Inside, the air was cool and subtly perfumed with the scent of flowers.

The first thing Fresa noticed was a framed photograph hanging on the wall in the living room: Two boys, standing on a race track against a race car. She could see the intensity in their eyes.

"Is nobody home?" she asked as only the butlers were present.

"Well, Liam is at work, and I think his brother might be in his room." Chloe replied, He's a dick. Don't fight with him,"

"Why would I?" Fresa raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't particularly have a good influence. He's a good guy, but don't get too involved with him, okay?" "Okay." she nods.

"You can change and relax a bit, then we'll go somewhere nice in the evening." She said removing a strand of hair from Fresa's cheek.

"Can I just go to my room and disappear with my books?" Fresa said.

"No absolutely not. I won't leave you in here like a gremlin rat." Chloe laughed.

Y/n puts on her bathing suit and decides of read her favourite book by the nice warm sun. She sat by the edge of the pool, her bare feet dangling in the water. She opened her book, the gentle breeze rustling the pages, it was very peaceful and soothing. She felt a little good after months.

But her calm thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, explosive splash in the water. The splash drenching her and the book. She glances over to see a grinning idiot in the water.

"Sorry!" he called out.

He propelled himself towards the edge. His broad shoulders slick with water. Dark, wet strands of hair clung to his forehead, and the sun gave his skin a golden hue. But his eyes— were the prettiest blend of green and blue.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"This is my house. Who are you?" he countered, hoisting himself out a little. The water cascaded down his hair.

Fresa’s eyes narrowed. "Either you're Liam or his...dickhead brother."

"Lando," he said, the grin widening. "The dickhead brother. I was told you were coming. Not so nice to meet you?"

"Fresa," she replied, with a curt nod.

"Wow worse than I imagined." He laughs to himself.

"Why were you on the swimming pool edge if you didn't wanted to get wet." he asked.

"I just wanted to read and now you ruined my favorite book." she said as water dripped from pages.

Lando's grin only widened. He came a little closer, "Come on, Fresa, lighten up. It's a pool, meant for swimming, not sunbathing with literary casualties."

The tension was broken by the sound of the back door sliding open. Liam and Chloe emerged, hand in hand.

"I get you two have met?" Liam chuckled, glancing at Lando. "Fresa, this is Liam, my boyfriend." Chloe introduced.

"Hi!" she smiles backed.

"Well her name is actually y/n but we call her Fresa since she was 2 because she loved strawberries.." Chloe explained.

"Strawberries seriously." Lando snorted.

"And that is my asshole brother." Liam chuckles with a playful jab at Lando.

"Are you done?" Lando sneered and dives back into the water.

Later at the brunch table Liam and Chloe discussed about the next plans since Fresa had come to spent her vacations there. Lando sat across from her, his wet hair now dried and curled, framing his face. He looked at her taking a bite of toast and smiled. Fresa rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him, and focused on her omelette.

"So we can go out for a nice dinner tonight." Liam suggested.

"Oh no listen bro tonight-" Lando began, but Liam cut him off, "No! Anna is coming today. You're not going anywhere."

"Who's Anna?" Fresa asked.

"His girlfriend." Chloe teases.

"Thank you for answering" Lando smiles mockingly.

"Lando you can't run from it. We're going out, dinner at 7. And you can't leave the house till then." Liam ordered.

"You're not dad." Lando retorted, standing up and leaving the table.

The evening approached and everybody was ready to go out. Fresa went with Liam and Chloe whereas Lando went separately in his McLaren. Fresa was nesteled in back seat, imagining Theo face when she’ll surprises him tomorrow and about all the things they’ll do together. It was cheery drive. But the good time was limited. Fresa receives a text from her friend who was in London, attached were the photos of Theo kissing another girl. Fresa's head started hurting and she couldn't control her tears as they overflowed her eyes. She didn't wanted to ruin the mood so she didn't say anything to anybody.

After reaching the restaurant Fresa tried to be composed and to stop her emotions but she failed. She stared at the menu, the fancy letters unreadable to her.

"Chloe?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Just then, Lando's phone rang, a sharp chime that cut through the restaurant's soft murmur. He excused himself and moved away from the table.

"Yes, baby?" Chloe asked "Can I go home?" she said.

"Is everything alright? You don't look good." asked Liam. "Just a headache," Fresa lied,"Can we please do this dinner later?"

Chloe squeezed her hand, her touch comforting. "Of course, no problem. I'll call you a uber." Her eyes, though, were sharp, searching. "But if there's anything at all, you can tell me, okay?"

Lando returned, his expression tight. "Listen, Liam... I have to go." "Where?" Liam asked.

"Work," Lando replied. "I swear to god, if you're again going to that bloody—" Liam began, but he cuts him off, "No, this is important. It's Lion. He called, he wants to meet at his place."

"Okay, go." Liam's shoulders relaxed slightly, "Wait, take her too," Liam ordered, gesturing towards Fresa.

"No. She can go by herself!" Lando shook his head.

"Lando!" Liam sighs.

"She's your girlfriend's sister, your problem not mine." He argued.

"Come on Lion's place is on the way to our home...go drop her home, then you can go wherever you want." Liam insisted.

"Fine." Lando rolled his eyes, "Come." he said to Fresa, his tone rather rough, offering no comfort, only a means to an end. The night, which had started good was now a mess of broken trust and forced companionship.

The silence in the car stretched. A little uncomfortable, as Lando sped away from the restaurant.

"So you like racing?" Fresa asked to break the silence.

"I loved it. Me and Liam both," Lando replied.

"That picture.." she said, remembering the photograph on the wall.

"It’s me and Liam. We used to go karting and racing together." Lando nodded.

"You don't go anymore?" she asked.

"No, I left. He made me." a shadow passed over Lando's face, "My dad." he said.

"Your dad?" Fresa looked at him.

"Please don’t talk about him. I don't talk about my dad," he said, his voice clipped.

"Why are you getting all prickly and irritated. Such a Typical spoiled brat." she said.

Lando's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. The car swerved slightly, and Fresa braced herself. "What did you just say?" His voice was low. "Aren't you a spoiled brat too? Doesn't talk to Daddy but is still here to meet him. She hates him but loves his money." He said.

"You know nothing about me," she said, her voice a low, tremor.

"You know nothing about me either. Yet you judged me. I'm not a spoiled kid" he countered.

"Okay leave it. I don’t know what I just said." Fresa gave up.

"Is this your way of apologising? Because you're terrible at it." Lando scoffed, the bitterness clinging to his tongue.

"Why should I apologise? I've been told you're a dick and you're kinda proving that right now." she said.

"You're the one who started it," he snapped.

"I told you to drop it," she hissed.

"I would have if you had simply just apologised." said Lando.

"I'm not apologising." Fresa glares.

"Get out." he suddenly says, his voice cold and flat.

"What?" Fresa stared at him.

"I said, get out of my car," he repeated, his eyes fixed on the road. "I'm not taking you home."

He pulled the car to the side of the road.

"You're not serious?" Fresa's eyes widened.

"Dead serious," he said, his voice hard. "Get out."

They were far from the city, on a dark, deserted stretch of highway.

Fresa glares him, she gets out of the car and slammed the car door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet night. Lando drives away leaving her all alone.

He rushed through the dimly lit streets. The roads seemed the type where all the illegal shit happens. He reached at the location and pulled up beside the Camaro there. Lion was slumped in the driver's seat, his face pale and streaked with blood. "What the hell happened to you?" Lando growled, his voice tight with anger.

Lion's palms were sweaty, his eyes wide with fear. "Nothing, man, I tripped. But forget that, I have a bigger issue!" He held up a medium-sized package, his hands trembling. "My brother told me to deliver it here and told me not to open it, but I'm an idiot. It's cocaine!"

"What the hell Lion! If you wanted money, you could've just asked me. Why are you doing these kind of things?" Lando cursed, his frustration boiling over.

"Forget about that, man, help me out now!" Lion pleaded, his voice cracking. "Don't go in there then," Lando said, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the pub.

"They'll kill me, Lando!" Lion cried, his voice laced with panic. "Well what do you want me to do?" Lando asked, his patience wearing thin.

"Come with me, I will mess things up! I need some support," Lion replied, his eyes pleading. "No!" Lando shook his head

"Okay, let's go back home. The person I was supposed to deliver this will come after me because this is worth 1 lakh pounds! And I will die just because you didn't come with him there!" Lion said, his voice rising in desperation. "God, you're so dramatic. Okay, Fine." Lando sighed.

Just as they were about to go in Fresa slid into the back seat of the car. "What the hell are you doing here?" The already angry Lando snapped.

"I left my phone in your car!" she countered, a simple shrug dismissing his expressions.

Lion, perched back. "That's your new girlfriend?"

"Shut up!" Lando retorted, his face flushing. "I had called you a cab and rather than going home you followed me?"

"Yes. I had the location on so it was pretty easy." she replied.

"You could have waited for me to come back home!" he scoffed.

"You irritated me so much, now I’ll irritate you. What are you doing here anyways?" She asked.

"We need to go—" Lion began, but Lando cut him off with a sharp glare. "This isn't a game, Fresa. You need to leave. Now." he ordered.

"No" she replied with a hint of defiance.

"Ugh, my god. Okay, stay in the car. We'll be out in a few minutes," Lando said but was she going to listen? No.

While Lando and Lion disappeared into the dimly lit back room to deal with Ronnie, Fresa, alone, wandered to the front of the club. She tried to blend into the shadows, but Ronnie's brother, Robert, had already fixed his gaze on her. He slid into the seat beside her,

"Hi" he greeted.

She doesn't say anything, just smiles back.

"Not much of a talker I see."

"Drink?" He said pushing over a gin to her.

With the anger over Theo she gulped it down without thinking much.

Meanwhile, in the back room, tensions were escalating. Ronnie had discovered a discrepancy in the weight of the package Lion had delivered.

"It's opened," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Dunno. I just delivered it as it got," Lion stammered, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"It's missing 100gms ," Ronnie said, placing the package on a scale.

"Come on man it's just 100?" Lando said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You know how much it costs? That's gonna cost me thirteen thousand pounds," he glared.

"Thirteen thousand??" Lando repeated, his eyes widening.

"It's uncut. Pure." Ronnie said, "now I need my money."

"Fine. I'll get the money to you by tomorrow," Lando retorted, trying to maintain a composure.

"Tomorrow?" Ronnie shook his head.

"Look I can't just magically get that kind of cash okay? There's a limit on the ATM." Lando argued, frustration taking over him.

"Alright, fine. Go," Ronnie nodded, his eyes still holding a threat.

Lando and Lion sighed in relief, eager to escape. They hurried back to the front of the club only to see Fresa stumbling towards the exit door with Robert’s arm draped around her shoulder.

Lando ran over and pushes him away.

"Easy there boy" Robert yelled.

"Fresa!" Lando called. He cupped her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek.

"She's a beauty isn't she." Robert smiled smugly.

"Fresa, look at me," Lando said, his concern growing into a burning fear.

"Lan..." she slurred, her words barely coherent. One drink couldn't do that and as far as Robert's reputation goes, he definitely drugged her.

"Here." Lando carefully lifted her onto a nearby table. Then, he turned to face Robert and his goons, his eyes a cold, unwavering stare.

"What?" Robert sneered.

With a swift, brutal movement, Lando's punch landed Robert's face. When the first blow didn't bring the man down, he struck again, this time breaking his nose. The guy falls down on the ground with the force and the temperature in the room rises.

Robert wastes no time in giving the fist back to Lando. From then it all became a chaos. Ronnie came to the front and joined in the fight. Everyone started hitting each other like crazy, they'd hit with whatever is nearby, the glasses, alcohol bottles, chairs and what not.

Nobody touched Fresa. She was just sitting in the corner, not understanding what was actually happening in front of her. When she saw a woman pointing a knife at Lando's back, she quickly grabbed a glass from the table and breaks it onto her head.

"You bitch!" The woman shouts. She slashes Fresa in her stomach and Fresa punches her back, both fell down to the ground fighting further.

"FRESA!" Lando yells as he tries to fight off Ronnie.

Suddenly faint siren could be heard outside and it wasn't long before the cops got there.

"POLICE, STAND DOWN!" The officers barge in with guns.

They got hold of Lando, Lion and Fresa and some others but Ronnie and Robert had slid out the back door. "Damn you officer, those goons ran away." Lando cussed.

"Lando Norris, you are enough for us." The officer said snapping handcuffs around his wrists.

This was bad. He was trying to get way from these types things as much as he can and now Fresa was a part of this too. She was trapped in a war she didn't understand. He needed to get her out of this. He needed to fix this. Ronnie already hated Lando and he surely won't let this slide.

As soon as they reached the station, Lando reached out to his lawyer friend, Anna. And secured their release by the following afternoon. Lando decided it was best for Fresa to stay away from her home right now so he took her back to his villa.

Fresa cleans up and sat on the kitchen island, her head pounding, her stomach churning. The aftereffects of the drug were still lingering, blurring her thoughts and making it difficult to focus. She felt disoriented and vulnerable.

Lando came in from upstairs and glanced at her as he made some ginger tea. "Here, it'll help," he said, giving her a steaming cup. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I just got drugged, stabbed and arrested. In one day! Oh I'm doing awesome!" she replied.

"I'm sorry." Lando apologises, his eyes filled with genuine regret.

"Where's Liam?" She asked.

"Dad called him back for an important case so he and Chloe went back. But they'll be here anytime soon."

"Does he know how much of a saint his little brother is?" She chuckled.

"No please don't drag my brother into this. He's clean. He'll kill me if he knows I'm involving in such things. Sorry please." Lando pleaded.

"It's okay. It was really my fault." She said.

"You told me not to come but i didn't listen and took that drink. God how stupid am I....I guess I was angry."

"On whom?" Lando asked, his voice gentle.

"My boyfriend, Theo....It was almost over between us when he moved here in London and I was trying to mend it. I thought it was because of the long distance thing but it turns out he was cheating on me."

"What a loser." Lando scoffed.

She chuckles and then hisses as she shifts in her chair and feels a sharp pain. Last night's wound.

"Can I see it?" Lando asks.

Fresa lifts her shirt and and he saw the red bandage gash above her waist, to the side. "You're bleeding through." Lando said, his brow furrowing. He hurriedly grabs the first aid box and guided her to the couch.

Then he carefully cleaned the wound. His touch surprisingly gentle. Fresa gripped Lando's shirt as the antiseptic stung, a sharp, clean pain. "I'm almost done," he reassured her.

The scent of antiseptic filled the air, an oddly comforting aroma. Fresa's gaze drifted to Lando's face, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was so close, every detail of his expression magnified.

As he finished bandaging the wound, his fingers brushed against her skin, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

The silence continued with only the chirping of birds outside. Lando's gaze lingered on her lips. He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. She closed her eyes, feeling his lips brushing against her cheek.

Then his lips moved to hers, a soft, tentative exploration. The kiss was gentle, hesitant. But as she gave him access, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Her hands found their way to his hair, her fingers in the soft curls.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. A soft smile played on his lips. "Do you want go to a party?" he asked.

"A party?" she chuckled.

"No no! Not like last night. Liam and Chloe will be there too!" He laughed.

"So you're not angry at me anymore?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, still am," she replied, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "But maybe tomorrow, right now I'm in a little pain," she smiled.

"Wow, Chloe, look, the house is standing," Liam laughed as he entered with Chloe. Seeing them, Lando moved away, and Fresa adjusted her shirt back.

"What you kids do when we were out?" Liam asked, settling onto the couch.

"Played in the sand" Lando sneered.

"What happened to your hands?" Chloe asked, noticing Lando's reddened knuckles.

"What happened to you?" Liam asked, seeing Fresa's forehead wound.

"I, uh, don't know...I think I was drunk and I fell," she stammered a little.

"And you went for a boxing match, didn't you?" Liam glared at Lando. "You do boxing?" Fresa asked, looking at Lando. "I've told you a million times to quit, but you never listen, right?" Liam continued. "You didn't take Fresa with you, did you?"

"No!" Lando and Fresa replied in unison, their voices too quick, too synchronized, making them even more suspicious.

"Anyways where's Anna?" Liam asked.

"She's late, she had some important work so she'll come by tomorrow morning." Lando answers and Liam nods.

Anna. The words echoed through Fresa's ears. Did she just kissed Lando despite him having a girlfriend? Guilt washes over her.

[4.1k words]

[writingoddess1125]

You Give Them a Massage 💆‍♂️

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk.

Buy me a KO-FI

Luffy

Luffy while not exactly needing massages enjoys the physical affection.

You will focus on his spine as you gently knead his muscles into relaxation. Which usually turns into you kneading a soft rubbery feeling since he will relax so much it's like he turns into a toy.

"Are you stretching out?"

You question as you realize you've kneaded him into puddy. As well as praising the nice clean lemon scented lotions you used.

He will giggle at the feeling and eventually fall asleep at your touch.

"Your hands are sooo nice (Y/N)!'

Sanji

A massage for Sanji usually starts out as physical therapy for his legs since the muscles are so tight and locked up it causes him pain. Stretching him out leads to him usually Biting a Pillow and groaning in discomfort.

*Please watch for your viewing pleasure ;3

Once done with that you massages away. Focusing on his legs and thighs in order to get him relaxed. Using nice peach scented lotion to help him relax.

"Your hands are heavenly my dear~"

He will flirt with you while on the table but eventually just develope into groans of bliss.

Zoro

Zoro will be stubborn and not want a message at first. However fall into it when his shoulders are sore.

You have to use baby oil for him since his skin is very rough. You have to use a lot of strength to work out the knots in his shoulders, having felt stones that were softer.

"This is ridiculous, I don't see... ohh"

Once you hit that point that has been hurting him he will fall under your spell. Humming in gentle delight as you work out the sorness and tension from his shoulders.

He will fall asleep, snoring rathed loudly as you smooth out his shoulders.

"That was.. very very nice"

Usopp

Usopp will be down for a massage, especially since all his maintenance om the ship make his arms sore.

At first talking your ear off about fake stories as you worked, using different mango lotions on his hands to make them soft.

"You know, I traveled to this island once that had beautiful mermaids, they were all over.. over oh that feels nice"

Will eventually fall into a dreamy like state as he will mumble gentle praise as you work up and down his arms.

"That was so nice (Y/N) thank you"

Nami

Oh poor Nami- Her lower back is always a problem for her! So when you offer a massage she jumps at the opportunity.

You work at the very strong tension on her lower back and help ease the ache. Using nice orange scented lotion for her to add a bit of aroma therapy to the room.

"Gods that's so nice... ugh having boobs suck-"

She will grumble earning some nice chuckles out of both of you. Casual conversation will take place between the two of you as you work, but at the end silence will win over as she's too relaxes to speak.

"Thank you (Y/N) you're a life saver~"

Buggy

Buggy never talks about how sometimes his joints ache after using his devil fruit. Mainly his neck if he detaches his head for long periods of time.

Will throw a mini temper tantrum as you tell him to get on the table, which he does even if he makes a fuss.

Once you start this man is all moans and whimpers. Feeling you work the muscles in his neck into relaxation.

"Fucckkkk" He will moan and pretty much fall apart under your skilled hands. The nice strawberry lotion filling the room which makes him even more complient and relaxed. Defiently the type to get 'excited' during a massage as well.

"Well.. maybe we can do this again?"

Shanks

Shanks will be open to a massage, however it takes him a while to actually relax.

You focus on his shoulders and side of his body. Especially the one with his missing arm, He does get phantom pains and were the muscles are suppose to connect on his missing arm sometimes clench at the pack of stimulation. So you have to carefully work those muscles with your fingers and travel up to his shoulders and side of his body.

"...Thank you (Y/N)"

He will sigh out, feeling the ache in his arm fade from your fingers as the cucumber lotion helps him relax. Will try and crack a few jokes with you here and there but will eventually relax enough to allow silence.

"It's been a while since I've felt this nice, Thank you again"

Mihawk

When Mihawk finally allows you to give him a massage after pestering him for a while you see why- It's like his entire back is made of cobblestone- You question how he gets any sleep with this much tension!

It takes a good hour just to work out the knots before you can even begin to give him a proper massage. He will grunt only at the nice feeling of you working his muscles into submission, the Eucalyptus lotion helping his mind fade into tranquil bliss as you work.

Mihawk is dead silent the while time you work, enjoying the peaceful silence as you get him to relax and ease the pain in his entire back.

Once finishes you are close to exhaustion.

"Thank you deeply (Y/N)"

[deusfoundry]

inspired by the first like 3 minutes of raf's 4* card: glistening hearts! its my first time writing for him so any notes on his characterization is much appreciated ehe thank u MWAH

you're stuck in bed for two whole hours after you've woken up because of your boyfriend.

you tried. you really, really tried to get up, but even in deep slumber, rafayel possesses the ability to feel your every move and know how to respond accordingly.

you couldn't find it in yourself to mind for the first ten minutes. your days off from work are few and far in between, and you have to admit that there's no lovelier sight to wake up to than rafayel, unblemished face with his hair parted down the middle and remarkably free of tangles. you spend a nearly embarrassing amount of time just staring at him, but when you spot the clock on his bedside table flashing 9:05 AM in bright green, you knew it was time to get the day started.

except, rafayel is not having any of that.

you begin to stir beside him, digging your palms into silk sheets to push yourself up and off the bed, when rafayel's arm flies around your waist. he pulls you back down, completely ignorant of the loud yelp that tears through you throat as he mumbles something incoherent.

you lie frozen in bed. a beat passes. then two. and when you deem rafayel is still asleep, you take advantage of his relaxed arm and attempt to peel it off your skin, movements slow and steady to not rouse him.

but before your fingers could even graze his arm, he pulls you closer, wrapping his limb tighter around your waist until it has coiled all the way to the small of your back.

"stay."

ice runs down your spine at the feeling of rafayel trailing kisses from the crook of your neck down to your shoulder, the odd sensation of slightly chapped lips leaving wet kisses makes you shiver.

"rafayel..." your voice falters, the last syllable of his name falls off your lips with a tiny gasp as he refuses to resign in his ministrations.

he hums against your skin, sending vibrations that has the hair on your arm standing. "just five more minutes..."

you have no choice but to relent. there should be nothing wrong with five more minutes in bed, right?

except, five turns into ten. and ten turns into half an hour. and gradually, the sun casting its rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of rafayel's room turns into anything but pleasant. it starts to burn, and finally, finally rafayel loosens his arm around your waist.

"so nice of you to join the land of the living."

he groans. "five mor-"

"absolutely not." you pry yourself off of him before he can even think about coaxing you into bed again. you throw the covers off of rafayel. he whines, something about being exposed to the harsh and freezing temperature of his room.

even the thought of being annoyed at him for forcing you to start your day well into the morning dissolves as you giggle at his antics. you decide to have just the tiniest bit of mercy on him. crawling into bed, you bring your hands up to remove his knuckles rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

the view he has of you is blurry, eyes almost completely shut over the endless stream of sunlight glaring at him, but he sees just enough of your face, brows relaxed and cheeks pulled up by the smallest of smiles. it warms his heart, the achingly soft gaze you bless him with.

"i'll get started on breakfast." you push his hair back, gathering the ends within your fist to hold it above his head. how adorable. "time to get up, cutie."

--

rafayel finds you in the kitchen half an hour later. he wants to insist that he didn't fall back asleep after you left him, but he knows you know him better than that, so he doesn't bother trying.

the room smells of nothing but flour and sugar and the tiniest hint of chocolate chips. rafayel inhales once more, deeper this time, and finds the faint touch of strawberries mixed in with the sweet aroma.

he stalks closer, barely makes the effort to silence his footsteps, until he finds your back pressed against his chest. he leans in, lips purposely ghosting over the shell of your ear. satisfaction thrums within him at the quiet gasp you let out.

"smells really good." rafayel hums, knees bending so he can bury his face into the crook of your neck.

you can't quite tell if he's referring to the food or you.

"it's pancakes, raf." your bodies shake in sync with each other as you both chuckle.

you freeze to a stop right in the middle of flipping the pancake when you feel rafayel's hand on your skin. they start from the middle of your thigh, deft fingers dancing on bare skin. a thought flashes briefly through your mind, that these fingers, having crafted the most enchanting pieces of art, are now painting your skin with stars. you try to steady yourself, but rafayel creeps his hand beneath your (his) shirt and spreads them out on the curve of your waist.

you're a goner by then, when he begins to press and prod at the flesh. the hand holding the spatula shakes, and you nearly drop the utensil if not for rafayel taking carefully yanking it off and placing it down on the kitchen counter.

he turns you around to face him, shifting your body to his right to keep you from getting caught in the fire burning behind you. his hand now rests on your lower back, while the other grasps at the end of your chin.

rafayel remains unmoving. he's intent on burning this image of you into the back of his eyelids. hair disheveled, plump lips parted, eyes trembling in anticipation. you're waiting for him, visibly growing more impatient by the second.

"rafa-" your patience snaps at the same time his resolve does. he pulls your lips into a kiss, swallowing the muffled gasp into his own.

your lips move in a practiced dance you wholeheartedly know. the rhythm is etched into the fabric of your soul, and if you close your eyes and let yourself drown in the moment deeply enough, you can almost hear a song fading into the background. one that exists only to match the steps of your dance. he tilts his head, leaning in as if to devour you whole and the song picks up its pace, tempo quickening. a moan stumbles out of your lips and the tune falls into a crescendo, the steady beat grows louder until it pounds into your ear almost painfully.

rafayel pulls away, giving your dulled senses a chance to find their bearings, and that's when you register the smell of something burning. your eyes widen at the smoke billowing from the frying pan, fogging up the kitchen.

"rafayel, the pancakes-!" you urge him to move away from you so the situation can be dealt with. or at least, you tried to, before rafayel swoops in to plant his lips on yours once more.

you gather enough strength to push him off, but your attempts are futile. his hand fumbles around for the knobs of the stove to turn the fire off. a mischievous grin grows on his lips as he speaks into the kiss, voice drawled and raspy.

"i guess we'll just have to order in."

dividers by @cafekitsune

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 3) Epilogue

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Epilogue: A Not-So-Disastrous Marriage

Summary: It's time for the future.

Mouse Note: Thank you, everyone, for all the support this series has gotten over the years! It means the world to me, and this was such a fun series to write. I started the first book years ago, gave it up, and then came back to finish it. I can't believe how far it's come. You and your comments have meant the world to me, and I hope you know that I will miss you all. I hope to see you guys in my other stories, too! I love you all <3 Goodbye to A Not-So-Disastrous Romance. Pink, Saiki, and everyone else say goodbye!

A few years later…

            “No eating, Kusuo,” scolded (Y/N).

            “They look good.” Saiki stared at the cupcakes (Y/N) had worked on for school. “And I work better on homework with your sweets.”

            “Yes, but they’re my homework.” (Y/N) put down another cupcake. “This one is eatable.”

            Saiki smiled. They knew him too well. Gratefully, he took a bite of the cupcake while (Y/N) put the others in a box to submit. Saiki believed (Y/N) would get an A. Or, at least, they should. Everything they made was delicious.

            Honestly, he was lucky that their apartment was filled with the aroma of sweets almost every day. It reminded Saiki of how sweet (Y/N) was. He loved to watch them work, the soft smile on their face when they got to help people and make them smile with their desserts. The curve of their smile, the shine of their eyes, the gentle pastels of their outfits, even the glint of their double earrings—one germanium, and their doubles a fun pair of dangling, strawberry earrings—everything was perfect. (Y/N) was perfect.

            “Thank you,” said Saiki.

            “ ‘Course,” said (Y/N). “Can’t neglect my favorite customer.”

            They smiled. Every year was a step closer to their goal of having a bakery. This was their final year of college. Soon, everything they wanted would be theirs—they had family, friends, love, and, within a few months, their dreams.

            “I’ll always be your most loyal customer,” said Saiki.

            “I know,” said (Y/N), kissing his cheek.

            Saiki took their hand and pulled them in for a proper kiss. (Y/N) giggled and kissed him back.

l

A few months later…

            (Y/N) stepped back. They were giddy with excitement, bouncing on the balls of their feet. The room before them was dark. But when (Y/N) flipped the light switch, everything they wanted would come to life.

            “Ready?” said Saiki.

            “Ready,” said (Y/N).

            “Three…two…one…” said Saiki, smiling.

            “Let there be light.” (Y/N) flipped the switch.

            Their bakery was illuminated. The tables and chairs were cute and well-furnished with tablecloths. The rows of display sweets sat neatly in various colors of the rainbow, ready to be devoured. Everything gleamed perfectly, warm and inviting.

            “Delights for a Disastrous Day is open for business,” said (Y/N).

            “Still a cheesy name,” said Saiki fondly.

            (Y/N) laughed. They knew it was. “But what do people need when they’re having a bad day? Sweets.”

            “True,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) looked around the bakery and spun around giddily. “Ah! It’s everything I ever wanted! I’m going to have an opening day party tomorrow, and I’m going to invite everyone, and it’s going to be amazing!”

            Saiki smiled. This was his partner getting everything they wanted. He was happy to see them so overjoyed. He wanted to see them happy forever.

            (Y/N) spun around to face him again. They had a giant smile on their face. “But you know, one thing could make this day even better.”

            “What?” Saiki furrowed his brow. Because (Y/N) still wore their germanium earrings in their second ear piercings, he couldn’t read their thoughts.

            (Y/N) knelt, and Saiki’s breath caught. From their apron pocket, they withdrew a small box. Opening it, (Y/N) smiled. A small silver ring sat in a white cushion and glinted in the light. It was simple. It was perfect for Saiki.

            “Kusuo Saiki, you are the most amazing man I have ever met,” said (Y/N). “And I never want to lose you. You’re who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you. So, Kusuo…will you marry me?”

            Saiki smiled. “Yes. Always, yes.”

l

A few months later…

            “I can’t believe it’s your wedding day!” said Yumehara, smiling. She wore a pink bridesmaid’s dress and was touching up (Y/N)’s makeup. “This is so exciting! The first of our friends married.”

            “I’m surprised it wasn’t Kokomi,” admitted (Y/N).

            Teruhashi blushed. “Oh-Well-Imu and I-We haven’t—” She stumbled over her words, and her friends giggled.

            “Honestly, the only surprise is that Saiki didn’t snatch you up the moment you graduated from high school,” said Miko. “I mean, you two are, like, perfect.”

            Mera nodded from where she was snacking on cookies. She may have become fairly successful and no longer struggled with money, but her appetite never diminished. Somet hings never changed.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N), smiling softly.

            “Are you sure about these earrings, (Y/N)?” said Yumehara. “I like your gold ones, but these other ones are your usual ones. You don’t want to change it up for your wedding?”

            (Y/N) touched their germanium earrings and smiled. “No. These mean a lot to me.”

            “Alright,” said Yumehara, smiling and stepping back. Her phone went off, and she checked it.

            Teruhashi stepped forward. “(Y/N)…are you sure you want me to be your maid of honor?”

            “Of course I do.” (Y/N) smiled. “If I wasn’t I wouldn’t have asked you.”

            Teruhashi’s gaze went to the ground. She was honored, ecstatic even, to have been chosen by (Y/N), but she didn’t want to stand by (Y/N) on their wedding day. With her aura, people would pay attention to her—and, remember, this isn’t being self-absorbed, this is just a fact—instead of (Y/N), who deserved all the love today.

            “Kokomi.” (Y/N) took her hands. “You’re my friend. I don’t care about anything else but that. I want my friends with my on my wedding.” They squeezed her hands. “Alright?”

            Teruhashi smiled. “Saiki really is lucky that you wanted to marry him.”

            (Y/N) laughed.

            And I’m going to ask God to give you all of my beauty today. You deserve it, thought Teruhashi. She wanted to uplift (Y/N) in the way they deserved.

            Fortunately for Teruhashi, someone far more reachable than God was listening. Yare yare. As if I would let people ignore (Y/N) on our wedding day.

l

            “Are you excited, Saiki?” whispered Kaidou.

            “Of course he is,” said Hairo. “He’s getting married.”

            “I guess the rest of us better get a move on,” said Kuboyasu. He glanced at Kaidou.

            If I have to hear one more thought between the two of them about getting married, I’m mind-controlling them to propose, decided Saiki.

            “When does the party start?” asked Nendou.

            “After the ceremony,” said Kuboyasu. “Obviously.”

            “This is such a cool palace. Is this a park?” said Nendou. “We should play tag.”

            “This is the garden of a palace,” said Saiki. Why did he ask Nendou to be one of his groomsmen? He couldn’t remember.

            He looked out at the crowd. He saw Toritsuka trying to flirt with a girl, Akechi incessantly chatting with Kusuke, who looked ecstatic to have someone intelligent seated next to him, and Saiko paying someone off for a better seat. Oh, yeah, that’s why. (However, they had been invited. Saiki chose to forget that was for a reason).

            The doors of the church opened, and everyone quieted. One by one, the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. Mera, then Miko, then Yumehara, and, finally, Teruhashi walked down the aisle. Everyone gasped, of course, as Teruhashi headed towards the altar to stand next to where (Y/N) would be. However, Saiki could see that her aura was noticeably dimmer than it usually was.

            Saiki smiled inwardly. With that combined with his own psychic abilities keeping people focused on what was really important that day, this was going to be a good wedding. Then, another figure stepped into the doorway, and everyone turned to see. Some exclamations rippled through the crowd as the first glimpses of (Y/N) were seen. Saiki’s mother and father dabbed their eyes as they watched their son’s spouse walk towards him. Ever since the engagement was announced, they hadn’t stopped celebrating (Y/N) officially coming into the family. It was really happening. (Y/N)’s own mother and father were sitting in the pews with giant smiles as well. Over the years, they had found more and more time to spend with their child, leading to a stronger and stronger relationship. They were a family who loved one another, and it showed in the smiles and happy thoughts as their child walked towards their future husband.

            On his own part, Saiki stared at (Y/N) in pure adoration.

            They wore a long white dress. Lacy flowers glimmered delicately in the light across their collar and sleeves. A simple translucent fabric fell overtop the white silk skirts of their gown. Their hair was pinned with white flowers. Best of all, (Y/N) had a smile on their face, and their eyes were only on Saiki.

            “Oh, wow,” said Saiki out loud.

            His friends all laughed softly, and (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, but Saiki couldn’t care. He only had eyes for (Y/N) as they approached him. He didn’t need anyone to tell him to take (Y/N)’s hands as they stood before him.

            (Y/N) smiled at him, squeezing his hands. The words of their vows barely registered as they repeated what they needed to. The only thing that mattered in the whole universe was that (Y/N) and Saiki were together.

            “Do you, Kusuo Saiki, take (Y/N) (L/N) to be your spouse, till death do you part?”

            “I do.”

            Saiki smiled, and (Y/N)’s grin widened. He said the words out loud, no telepathy. He truly meant them.

            “Do you, (Y/N) (L/N), take Kusuo Saiki to be your husband, till death do you part?”

            “I do,” said (Y/N).

            “Then I pronounce you married. You may kiss your spouse.”

            (Y/N) didn’t need to be told twice. They pulled Saiki in and kissed him. Saiki held onto their waist and kissed them back passionately. Every thought in everyone else’s heads were pushed out as he enveloped himself in love for (Y/N), his spouse. Even as his friends and family cheered, all Saiki cared about was (Y/N).

            They kissed him back with just as much ardor. They were with their husband! They were in love and surrounded by friends and family! They had everything they could ever want, and all of it swirled around them in a cloud of joy as they kissed Saiki.

            “I love you, Kusuo,” whispered (Y/N).

            “I love you, too, (Y/N).”

            The married couple kissed once again, drawing close as the rest of their lives stretched out before them, ready to be filled with joy and laughter and love forevermore.

            Life was never simple; it never would be. Saiki was a psychic who helped people despite his grouchiness. (Y/N) was a kind person who was always there with a helping hand for anyone who needed it. Together, they would face every disaster that came their way. After all, Saiki and (Y/N) had love.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

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@xiie1lian

@greeningout

@tiramisu-cheesecake

@fizzthefiredrake

@honest0215

@zuzulilapples

[tab00-t33f]

Joestar’s Favorite Perfume Headcanons

Heres a request from sweet anon about the Joestar’s favorite scents and perfumes! Hope I got this request right! :3

Also I see you guys really liked my latest bruno fic and some woukd like a continuation! I’d be happy to continue my “Dangerous Devotion” fic!!

Jonathan Joestar:

Favorite Smell: Freshly bloomed roses.

Perfume Recommendation: Chloé Eau de Parfum

This feminine fragrance is centered around a fresh and powdery rose scent, with hints of peony and lychee for added delicacy. It’s romantic and graceful—just what Jonathan would adore.

Joseph Joestar:

Favorite Smell: Citrus and warm spices.

Perfume Recommendation: Dior Addict Eau Fraîche

A lively fragrance featuring bright citrus notes like grapefruit and bergamot, paired with a warm base of white musk. It’s playful and confident, perfectly matching Joseph’s taste.

Jotaro Kujo:

Favorite Smell: Oceanic and fresh.

Perfume Recommendation: Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue

This perfume is crisp and refreshing, with notes of Sicilian lemon, apple, and cedarwood. Its aquatic, clean aroma is something Jotaro would quietly appreciate.

Josuke Higashikata:

Favorite Smell: Fruity and playful.

Perfume Recommendation: Escada Cherry in Japan

A bright and juicy perfume featuring cherry blossom, red fruit, and musk. It’s fun, sweet, and full of life—something Josuke would find irresistible.

Giorno Giovanna:

Favorite Smell: Citrus and florals.

Perfume Recommendation: Lancôme Ô de Lancôme

A sophisticated citrus-floral fragrance with notes of lemon, bergamot, and honeysuckle. Its elegant yet vibrant composition perfectly suits Giorno’s refined preferences.

Jolyne Cujoh:

Favorite Smell: Tropical and bold.

Perfume Recommendation: Tom Ford Soleil Blanc

A warm, tropical fragrance with notes of coconut, ylang-ylang, and amber. It’s bold, sultry, and unique, exactly the type of scent Jolyne would find magnetic.

Johnny Joestar:

Favorite Smell: Earthy and grounded.

Perfume Recommendation: Jo Malone Wood Sage & Sea Salt Cologne

This fragrance combines earthy sage, sea salt, and a touch of musk, creating a scent that’s fresh yet grounded. Johnny would love how natural and comforting it feels.

Josuke Higashikata (Gappy):

Favorite Smell: Fresh and green.

Perfume Recommendation: Elizabeth Arden Green Tea

A light and refreshing perfume with notes of green tea, mint, and citrus. Its crisp, natural scent is soothing and aligns with Gappy’s taste for clean, uncomplicated aromas.

Jodio Joestar:

Favorite Smell: Sweet and modern.

Perfume Recommendation: Yves Saint Laurent Mon Paris

A modern, sweet fragrance featuring notes of strawberry, raspberry, and pear, balanced by a base of patchouli and musk. It’s youthful yet sophisticated—perfect for catching Jodio’s attention.

[chlmtsdoll]

hi hi ly and ur stuff was wondering if you can do like a little wedding like yk those pics of mike at that wedding with his older art haircut, maybe them at a friends wedding idkk ly <3

Omg ily yesss this is cute <3 I was just rewatching Breakfast at Tiffany’s anddd watching the new season of Emily in Paris so I felt inspired to do something classy and romantic 🤍 this is perfecttt

FRANCE WITH ART

౨ৎ 18 + | age gap, older/sugar daddy!Art, younger/sugar baby!reader, needy art, petite!reader, a little angst, fluff !

“Isn’t she just a beauty?” you sighed out dreamily as you directed your camera to the dazzling city beyond you, panning to the Eiffel Tower that was looking just poised as ever sitting beyond the sunrise. No drowsiness or jet lag was going to keep you from taking in every second you could of the beauty and scenery as long as you were waking up in Paris, France.

You’d been up bright and early but snug in your robe. Hidden away in your suite at the Ritz. The penthouse-like hotel room was Arts sweet gesture to go all out for your comfortability as you were accompanying him on this get away for one of his long time tennis co-workers colossal wedding. Being in this city has always been like a dream to you. Especially now that you got to explore it with the man you were no stranger to showing how much you adored. And he had you glued to him as often as possible too.

You and Art had arrived a few days earlier just to see all the wonders and sight out all the romance spiraling around every fountain and podium. Art planned out everything. Taking you to all sorts of historical eloquent museums, the most upscale restaurants with jazzy night life surrounding the two of you, catching the tower sparkle at midnight. You walked Pont Alexandre hand in hand with the strawberry-blonde and kissed above the waters of Puente Marie.

You didn’t know if it had been the aroma of the city, or Arts way of brainwashing you into staying in his world of poshness and high class wonders forever, but it was like something straight out of a movie. He truly made you feel like the princess of all romance and desire — You even got to be sweetness to his arm when he brought you to a few tennis matches the capital held. With he glamour of vip seats and rosé meeting your lips as Art clutched your thigh in a way that said mine as he peered the tournament.

It was something about everyone knowing who he was and wanting him right then. The paps, starstruck fans, his wealthy tennis friends, all wanting the attention of the enamored man — his smile with dimples showing contrast to his gorgeous features as he signed autographs and took photos with girls and even women much older than you. He was truly a magnet with an essence of adoration for his life post his ex wife and more wealth than ever, pilling on to his retirement. He didn’t have a worry in the world but his ever lasting fame and all the while you, his young, beautiful and spoiled beat, girlfriend that got to look too pretty and absolutely pampered by his side at all times. You just couldn’t wait till after the tournaments, when Art would be buried snug in your sweet tight cunt before you had even rushed to get your shoes off and the door locked properly. The way the pending man kissed every inch of your body, merging his own with you. Pulling your hair in wistful ways, rough in his knuckles but with the upmost love and care as he sweet talked you through his own pent up fixation of you. Heavy thrusts to your soft little body — and when you’d scream his name out at way too late (or early) you knew that he was going to shower you in jewels the next day.

He loved it. And he knew you absolutely loved it.

Your wildness only he could contain kept him feeling young, and he would do absolutely any and everything for that feeling of your girlish youthful smile to never stop making his heart swell.

“I woke up earlier than usual today. The wedding is at noon, so I just ordered room service and had the loveliest breakfast.. Art went out a bit before I got up and he should be back soon I’m sure. I should get ready, but god. I could just live in this suite to be honest.” Your giggle was breezy as you talked to your phone. You loved recording vlogs of all the beautiful places you got to see — and well, you could quite tell people enjoyed seeing what the girlfriend of a international tennis superstar was up on the daily. So that’s exactly what you gave them.

Your expensive and perfect little life.

You had been perched out on the balcony with your hand fluffed cappuccino as you gazed out at the filled streets and soft echo of jazz from down the way when you heard the muffled noise of your suite door being unlatched “Princess?” Art muttered softly as he noticed you weren’t still tucked away in bed. A grin took upon the man’s lips before he called out a little louder. “Where’s my girl?”

When you heard his voice, your smile had gone from dazed to stir in a quick shift as you got on your feet to exit from the window out look to find the tall man standing by the door with hands full of upscale shopping bags. There was no time for him store them before you were wrapping your own much shorter body around his torso. Art chuckled delightfully as he moved to embrace you back in his warmth.

“Mmm, where have you been? I missed you.” Your eyes met his gleaming ones, looking up that the man while he now cupped your cheek. His eyes half perched with colors of brown in his blue, your lips were already inching to lay a solid kiss on his fond simple staring back into your orbs with all adoration— so Art picked you up and kissed you just as sweetly before setting you down again.

“Well.. I supposed you’d still been asleep by the time I got back — I went for a little shopping stroll. Got some pretty things for you baby.. go sit.” the blonde bent to kiss at your neck with a sly smirk as he inched for one of the satin handled bags and your face lit up all over again.

You noticed one bag, a specially tinted turquoise blue and you almost lost all composure right then as Art brought it to you. He opened up a delicate box from Tiffany & Co. and your eyes fell dream like immediately. In his hands were the sparkling silver jewels you’d had your eye on for a good while now, you sunk your teeth into your lips as Art watched your pupils dialing with a grin of his own.

“I don’t care if it’s a wedding that’s not yours. I want you to be decked out tonight, baby. I want everyone to know how opulent you are, and that you belong to me.” Art smirked as he took your wrists in his palms to lock to bracelet around your skin that had a royal ‘A’ initial engraved in it. No matter how much Art gave and gave to you, you were always left speechless by his thoughtful expressions of love for you.

“Oh my.. Art, it’s beautiful- - and it reminds me that your mine,” you gleamed. “I love it.”

Your soft sigh of pleasure was light as your cheeks began to ache with your beaming smile. But the gentleman didn’t just stop there. He still was picking up more bags that followed and you noticed the Chanel logo immediately by the tag of course.

“That’s not all.” He tittered before slipping a gorgeously designed box from the bag, even larger, your jaw became quite loose as the case landed in your palms. You felt like a kid getting exposed to an entire candy store and Art watched you rummage, still with grace, through the box itself — elegantly wrapped in light paper as you breathed out excitedly till your finger tips graced over the soft pink flap beneath. You couldn’t stop your squeal from echoing across the room.

“Oh my god.. baby!” You were gagging on gasps as you pulled out the bag and your eyes ran over the gold chain along with your hands. Art chuckled as you squealed in pleasure and it affirmed that he certainly picked the right choice.

“We have a day left and I just couldn’t go back to the states without you getting one — and you already have the black and white so you needed just the perfect pink one, right sweetheart?” Art sat beside you on the king sized bed with a fond smile on his lips as he observed you. His dimples showcased perfectly and you couldn’t help but pout in admiration of the man beside you. You set the bag to lounge a hug on Art that made him laugh, grasping your soft robe to pull you into his lap with ease. Your arms were tight around him, but lips go in for a smooch that had Art leaning into your touch quick. His eyes slowly fell closed in bliss just at the sweetness that you were. Proud he got to spoil you time and time again — but the best part being as you never took a second of it for what it could be. Him just being a typical man, taking up a fathering role in your life to buy you pretty thinks all so you’d end up on your knees for him. No. He genuinely wanted to lift you up. And you just loved and adored him, and that’s what he always strived for in the long run.

“How did I ever get so lucky ?” Your voice laced with sweetness and sympathetic tones as you look up at Art with your fawning doe eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you.” You hid your smile under your bitten lip as your soft thumb graced over the man’s peachy ones and he just stared into you with all desire of your being.

“Course.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against your exposed neck in admiration before leaving a kiss there.

“Anything for you, love.”

You couldn’t have been more giddy as you finally made yourself get up from the alluring man’s lap, hand still in contact with his cheek.

“Now, I must show the vlog everything you got for me.” You implored with assertion, but nothing could drive away from your girlish giggle that escaped as you skipped for your phone to which Art leaned out of your way for you to grab with a soft chuckle. “Okay, you guys aren’t going to believe me when I show you what Art got me…” your stammering blush matched your excited high pitched tone, and Art had a wide and easy grin on his face — he loved watching your small figure pride around so bubbly just to talk to your phone. You really hadn’t had much else to do in your free time. There was no need to have your own career, certainly no grocery list, or even a worry for your future when at the forefront Art paid for literally every last necessity or just pure want that you needed.

All you were expected to do was be his pretty little thing — traveling around the world and occupying yourself only when he had been busy with tennis, so you had your vlogs. And you were more than happy with that as long as you got him.

Soon enough you were standing in the golden embroidered mirror of the deluxe French country styled bathroom, touching up your lipstick and hair. Your dress a soft silky pink to bring out your cherry colored lips. You tried your best truly not to move much to ruin the flow of your pin curls. You felt the most pretty and expressive you might ever had right now — and when Art Apr approached the door way of the room, he had to hold his breath for a moment just at the single sight of you. Unable to utter a word. He just viewed as he leaned there tall whist his button up just slightly undone, his chest being seen enough to make you peek at the blonde with a soft grin at his icy blues glancing over your own figure.

“What?” You titter softly as you acknowledge the man who now crossed his arms as his lips curved to show his nearly sparkling teeth,

“Nothing, you just look absolutely gorgeous is all.. I don’t know how you expect me to keep my composure all night in that, but it’s a special day, so I’ll allow it.” Art chuckled and you sighed into the marble counter top as you shook your head affectionately.

“Well, this is your work Mr. Donaldson. Everything I have on you got me.” You noted as you gave him a three-sixty of your heavenly body to which the man pulled his lip between his teeth not so subtlety.

“Mmm, your being mean.” Art groaned playfully as he leaned off the wall to grab your waist and pull you into him. Your face immediately got hot as you were pushed into his aroma, YSL cologne that you found all too sexy eluding off of him. “Your gonna be so adored tonight baby, maybe just as much as the bride herself.” The blonde inched into your ear with a rasps as he grasped your limbs in his hands gently and pressed you into his chest with flow. You nearly let his teasing pull you in — but you couldn’t fight the uproar of sudden thoughts in the back of your mind,

“I’m a little nervous for tonight.” You chuckled lightly. And Art kept his eyes beyond yours, with a slight furrow of his brow.

“How come ?”

“Well… I know a lot of your tennis friends are much older. With much older girlfriends.. and wives..” Your fingers went to toy coyly with Arts collar, and you glanced down while he already had been shaking his head as he noted your words. “They might- judge me. Because I’m much younger,”

“No. No, baby.. I know it’s a little different for you, versus me. You’ll always get the short end of the stick. I know.. but I promise no one’s gonna make you feel inadequate. At least not by me. And if you do get a look or two, fuck them. We’re in France. It’s a French wedding. We’re pretty on theme anyways.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his wit, he always knew how to get you out of any overthinking so quickly with his pure charm and sharp-wittedness. Your reaction made Art smile down at you as his eyes followed your pretty face.

“You’re right. Besides, they’ll all be looking at you anyways.”

“What ? Please,” Art groaned before he chuckled and raised your arm so he could spin you. “You’re breathtaking. You’re impossible to go unnoticed and you know it, sweets.” You giggled out as he spun back around to him and held you close with his admirable wealthy laugh filling the air.

“But.. really, you’re the expert, do you think I look okay? I think they cut my hair too short this season…” Art peered down at you blinking up at him through your lashes and you shook your head.

“No. It’s perfect, at least to me most importantly. You look so handsome.” You ran your fingers through the man’s shorter golden locks and he couldn’t help but feel a heat rising to his own at the way you observed him. Fingers fixing every last strand or detail on him, to then grazing his jawline. “Perfect, as always.” You grin.

Arts blue orbs hadn’t been able to pull away from the beauty that was you below him, you just looked absolutely otherworldly in that dress, all dolled up. He liked to tell himself it was all for him — if it weren’t for the wedding fever going around he’d certainly blame something in the air just noting him to lock you down quick. “God, you look so fucking good in that dress..” Art groaned with a huff before lifting you off your feet and meeting you with a kiss. You couldn’t help but half moan and half sigh into it after your soft gasp as the man swept you off your feet. His lips adorned yours, and you were so pushed by the way his hands leveraged your weight effortlessly to collide with him.

Smiling slyly between kisses you mutter “we only have an half an hour before the caravan picks us up, Art…”

he could of taken your breath away but you managed to get the words across even through Arts hungry kisses. (You’d have to touch up your lipstick, again. If not the rest of your attire soon after he’s been done with you.)

“Yeah ? I can work with that.” The tall blonde grinned as he carried you out into the bedroom and your giggled trailed not too far along behind you.

[themultifandomgal]

Harry Styles- Pancakes And Maple Syrup

YN wakes up to a warm glow being cast over the bedroom she shares with her husband Harry. Harry Styles, the pop sensation whose voice had captivated millions, was a household name, but today he was simply a husband and father, determined to surprise his family with a homemade breakfast. The air was filled with the rich aroma of vanilla and melting butter. YN smiles thinking about how he was downstairs making pancakes for breakfast because he had promised Lilly their 3 year old daughter last night.

Harry stood at the counter, his tousled hair slightly damp from the shower, wearing a faded T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the tattoos that YN loved so much. Slowly YN makes her way downstairs, carful not to loose her footing since she can no longer see over her large baby bump. Harry and YN are due to have a baby boy in just 5 weeks time.

“Mummy” an excited voice comes from the kitchen “mummy daddy’s making pancakes” her soft curls frame her face

“I can see. Are you helping?”

“Yes. Daddy says I can do the syrup” Lilly then scampers over to the counter, her tiny hands resting on the edge as she peered up at her father “he says the pan is to hot for me to touch”

“And daddy is very right, but maybe daddy could put a pancake in a cool pan and you could have a go at flipping it?”

“Can I daddy? Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top” both YN and Harry know that there is no need for Lilly to beg, because he has Harry wrapped around her little fingers

“Of course! You can be my official pancake flipper” he said, handing her a spatula and a cold pan. Lilly beamed her smile being extremely infectious making YN smile

“Mummy do you want to help?l”

“I think mummy will be more help sitting at the table, you know she’s very clumsy at the moment”

“But we can help her daddy. Here you go mummy” Lilly passes a pretend chef hat to YN

“Thank you baby. Now what shall I do?”

“Hmmm” Lilly takes a moment to think “you can cut up the strawberries”

“Yes chef”

As the pancakes piled high on the plate, the kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling and laughter. They added blueberries and chocolate chips to some, while others remained plain, golden, and fluffy. The trio spent the next half hour crafting the perfect breakfast, a delightful chaos of spilled flour and shared giggles.

Finally, the table was set. The pancakes were drizzled with maple syrup, and fresh strawberries sprinkled on the top.

“This is the best breakfast ever!” Lilly declared, her mouth full of pancake. Harry exchanged a knowing glance with YN, both of them silently agreeing that these were the moments they cherished most. This time next year they would be celebrating pancake day as a family of 4 and the couple cannot wait for the chaos.

[thehighladywrites]

— “ an unexpected twist ”

⋆˙⟡ pairing: professor eris vanserra x reader, part 3

⋆˙⟡ summary: you spend every weekend at eris’s mansion, what happens this time? Who is Eris Vanserra and how come he is so rich on a professors salary? GASP A PLOT TWIST

⋆˙⟡ warnings: mentions of smut, tw talks of beron vanserra🤢, abusive childhood, eris dropping huge stacks of money on you, eris channeling his inner sugar daddy, you call him daddy for the first time ever, mentions of an unalive body.

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m not going to lie the plot twist is either a banger or the messiest thing i’ve ever written (pls be a banger)

part 1, part 2

In the gentle morning light, you lay there in his bed, your lover's bed, serenely unaware of him, enchanted by the sight of you.

Eris had been awake for hours, yet the idea of leaving the cocoon of your warmth never crossed his mind. He marveled at the sheer luck of having someone as incredible as you in his life.

Last night, he came to the realization that he had started to feel mushy and in love with you. The thought still rattled him, and he couldn't shake the slight wariness that you held the power to influence his feelings.

Feelings, thoughts, and open discussions were never entertained in the Vanserra household. Eris and his brothers had been raised by their abusive father, who subjected them to verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. Their father manipulated them into accepting and believing whatever suited his agenda.

Through the passing years, Eris had finely tuned his act as the heartbreakingly cold and scornful eldest son. The mask of cruelty clung to him so persistently that he found himself questioning if it was a facade or a painful reflection of his true self.

When his old man kicked the bucket, Eris felt like a ton of bricks was off his back – turns out, it was just an act. Now, with the nosy observer out of the picture, he went all out decorating his room, something he couldn't do growing up. At firat he felt stupid for being happy about being able to change his room because it was something so normalized but he realized how much it healed his inner child. No more walking on eggshells; he could finally kick back. Where did he celebrate his first taste of freedom? The same bar where he first bumped into you.

Grinning at the notion, Eris not only shed a heavy burden but also welcomed newfound brightness into his life. He was determined not to mess things up in any way.

Fully aware that his actions were objectively wrong, Eris couldn't muster the will to change course. He had succumbed to love, a fertile ground for obsession. While he concealed that side for now, he knew it would eventually surface.

The gentle stir in his arms brought Eris back to the present. A warm feeling enveloped his heart as he looked down at you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair, savoring the sweet moment.

Bending down, Eris pressed a gentle kiss on your head, catching the sweet aroma of the strawberry-scented shampoo you insisted he use. Amused by the fact that his hair had never been smoother, he looked at you with a smile.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Want to do something fun today?” he suggested.

Excited, you sat up straight, a huge grin on your face, eager for some fun. When you asked him what he had in mind, Eris leaned in, maintaining eye contact, and handed you a black card with a hint of mystery.

“Go crazy,” he smirked, settling in with his glasses, preparing to read the book laying on the nightstand.

You stared at the black card and then at him. The question lingered – how did a professor end up with a black card? Weren't those reserved for big spenders and invite-only privileges?

“There's no need to be shy, love. Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” he reassured you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks warmed at how well he seemed to know you.

“How are you so rich? I mean, no offense, but I thought professors and teachers weren’t really that... well-off,” you inquired, genuine curiosity in your voice.

“I'm not only a professor, beautiful. I worked at my father’s company before he passed, and now I’m the owner and the CEO. Teaching is just a side job,” he explained, shedding light on his financial standing.

“Oh, I didn’t expect that. So what do you do?” you asked.

“Investment banking,” he replied quickly, not seemingly open to having a conversation about it.

You didn’t really know what that meant but you also really didn’t care. He had money and you were gonna spend it.

“Huh, okay. Does that mean I can buy whatever I want?” you tilted your head at him, a teasing expression on your face with slightly raised eyebrows.

“You can buy whatever you want. Start off by adding the card to your Apple Pay wallet. I want to pay for whatever it is you need. Don’t worry about anything anymore, my love.”

He kissed your forehead, and the gesture made your vision slightly blurry. Eris took such good care of you, and the desire to make him proud lingered in your heart. Wanting to lightheartedly joke with him you tell him how much he reminds you of a dominating sugar daddy.

“Yeah? A dom sugar daddy, huh? How about you come here and give me something sweet, then?”

His taunting voice almost turned your brain to mush. This dynamic was entirely new and felt amazing. Eris embodied a provider, protector, and lover, all in one. No more worrying about the bare minimum or small things – he treated you like a queen. Unlike people your age, he didn't play games or ask for something in return for his gestures; it was a standard for him, a refreshing change.

You were well aware that Eris's fucking would leave you in need of a nap, so you decided to playfully tease him now, saving the rest for later.

“I promise to give you something real sweet after I’m done shopping, daddy.”

Damn. You knew you should’ve saved it for later. The man grabbed your giggling form and quickly turned it into moans, whimpers and sobs.

—

Obviously and sadly you couldn’t go outside together and shop so you had to order things online, but it was fine because it was so much more convenient this way. With a few clicks, your numerous packages arrived. Was it rude to order so much on someone else’s card? Hmm… maybe for regular people, but not for you. The man had a black card aka no fucking limit. You could buy literally anything and it would go through. So you did what any sane person with an unlimited budget did.

You shopped your ass off.

Clothes, makeup, skincare, books – you turned his doorstep into a glam runway. Nails, lashes, hair appointments – basically, you scheduled a spa day for yourself via delivery. Waxes, new phone case, upgraded computer – you were basically giving your whole life a makeover. Better shoes, nicer bag – You didn't just shop; you leveled up your entire wardrobe.

When you saw the damage of your shopping spree in his living room your cheeks heated as you looked at him with an apologetic smile.

But Eris wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. There was truly no better feeling than being able to spoil you. He loved your facial expressions when you saw something that caught your eye, loved the way your eyes sparkled when you saw a cute piece of jewelry that you just had to have. Your unapologetic way of spending his money was such a turn on for him. You sure showed him how much you appreciate him…

—

The weekend with Eris was almost over, and the thought of going back to school didn't sit well with you. Being with him felt comfortable and safe, away from potentially judgmental eyes and consequences. Now, you had to act like he's just another professor, dealing with thirsty whispers from fellow students that made your fists tighten. And don't get started on Professor Jensen – despite your warnings, she still managed to hover around Eris. Guess you’d just prove your words weren’t just words and that being around Eris would give her consequences. The return to the school routine felt like a looming storm, and you weren't looking forward to it.

You voiced your concerns to him and he gave you comfort and promised that you’d be spending more time with each other next weekend and all weekends forward.

After your final night routine, you fall asleep together, finding comfort and warmth in each other's embrace. The room quieted down, and your drift off into a peaceful slumber.

—

However, the peace was short-lived. Hearing a muffled thud, you attempted to snuggle closer to Eris, only to find his heated presence absent. Sitting up, you assumed he might be in the bathroom. As minutes passed without his return, worry crept in, and the realization hit you – you had grown accustomed to his warmth, and now, sleep seemed impossible without him by your side.

You got a blanket and wrapped it around you, got into the fuzzy slipper he got you and went to look for him.

Shirtless, Eris stood there, speaking harshly into his phone. Another male voice emanated from the speaker, filled with concern and fear.

“I won't repeat myself. The deal happens tomorrow night, or you will face consequences. Inquire with your father. Oh, wait, that’s right, you can't.”

Eris's voice turned taunting and cruel, unlike the playful teasing you were familiar with. This was a cold demeanor you hadn't seen before, a stark departure from the Eris you had grown accustomed to.

“Eris?”

His entire body froze, not expecting to see you awake. He prayed to every god and whatever people prayed to these days that the man on the phone didn't hear your voice. Because there was no telling what he’d do if he found out Eris had a weak spot. He reminded the man of what he said and hung up before turning around and going back into the warm Eris you knew.

“What are you doing up, princess? It's 2 in the morning,” he smiled so warmly and softly at you, it nearly made you forget your words.

“I couldn’t sleep without you. What’s going on? You sounded angry, is everything okay?”

He looked at you with tenderness, grabbing your cheeks before kissing you softly.

“It was just one of my employees at the company who had been slacking off a bit. Don’t worry about me, my love. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You nodded at him, lifting your arms in a sleepy gesture for him to lift you up. With a chuckle and no difficulty, he complied.

Eris cradled your head in the crook of his neck, strategically shielding your view. Unbeknownst to you, his men worked silently in the background, discreetly cleaning up the dead body. He fervently prayed that your drowsiness kept you oblivious to the grim details.

Crossing his fingers, Eris also hoped the presence of his gun on the nearby table escaped your notice in the dimly lit room.

🏷️ taglist: @teenageeggscissorslawyer @daycourtofficial @nocasdatsgay @vellichor01 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @rowaelinsdaughter @meshellexplosionmurder @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @candyjaypoppins @natashachelsea @whatthefuckshappeningrn @acourtofbatboydreams

[ao3lestappeninchident]

saw your request for requests! do you by chance write male!reader? cause ive been looking for oscar fics and its like. all x fem!reader. im suffering. i just want some gay fluff :(

A/N: You can always request male!reader<3 There isn't really a mention of the gender of reader, so let me know if you want it more clearly.

Also sorry that it took so long. School decided to also give me things to write.

You were woken up by the sound of something falling on the ground. You opened up your eyes and let out a sigh. The bed next to you was cold, meaning that your boyfriend had woken up quite some time ago.

You decided to get out of bed and make sure that everything was okay with Oscar. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the soft carpet beneath your feet. Putting and your slippers and rope, you made your way out of the bedroom. The chill in the air was a change from the warmth of your cozy bedroom.

Your eyes widened at the sighed in front of you and a small smile appeared on your face. The table was filled with bowls, all filled with different kinds of fruits. The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the air, making your stomach growl with hunger. A small smile spread across your face as you took in the sight.

"Good morning, love," you said, wrapping your arms around Oscar's waist from behind and planting a gentle kiss on his neck. He startled at your sudden touch, not realizing you had entered the room.

"Good morning," he replied, turning to face you with a warm smile as he placed a kiss on your lips. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You hummed in response and picked up a strawberry and put it into your mouth.

"You weren't supposed to be awake," Oscar said, flipping the pancakes with a spatula. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed." He poured two cups of steaming coffee and poured glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"That is sweet of you, love."

You walked towards the table to take a seat, but Oscar was quick to hurry and pull up your chair. He ruffled your hair before turning back to the stove to turn it off and placed the pancakes on a plate.

As you took a bite, you let out a moan of delite from the sweet taste on your tongue.

Oscar sat down across from you, a warm smile on his face. "I'm glad you like it," he said, his eyes shining with happiness.

You smiled back at him, "It's amazing," you said, taking another bite of orange. "You didn't have to do all this."

Oscar shrugged, his smile faltering for a moment. "I wanted to," he grabbed some fruit and put it on his own board"I wanted to surprise you and make you feel special."

"You don't have to do anything to make me special." you leaned over the table the press and another kiss on his lips.

Tag list: @hiireadstuff @nikfigueiredo @elliott-calls @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e

[studiogrimm810]

Speak of the Devil > The Truman Show Parallel // part 9

pairings: (established) sam winchester x gn!reader, destiel is there :D

summary: you are taken by lucifer for over a week and sam damn near looses his head. when you are finally rescued, the trauma of what was inflicted on you has left it's mark and it's up to sam and dean to keep you put together. lucifer is finally gone but your fear isn't

warnings: ptsd, paranoia, sexually suggestive, pretty tame given previous parts

word count: 5,377

A/N: please check out my end note, thank you all for reading <3

read other parts here

———————

Sweetly sour strawberries and the richly biting aroma of freshly brewed espresso swirl around you like Remy trying new combinations from ‘Ratatouille’. The chilly idle air left over from the hotel AC unit nibbles at your exposed skin comfortably as you pick up yet another berry to stain your lips. You couldn’t remember the last time you stayed at a place of lodging that actually fed you fresh complimentary fruit.

“I can’t get over this place,” you mumble past the bursted blackberry that waters your mouth from the confident taste.

“Just shows you how used to lower class we are,” Sam jokes lightly, bringing over two small cups of coffee with a thick and smooth layer of crema.

“That’s our karma for stolen credit cards, but Nespresso, Sam? This is luxury we don’t deserve,” you chuckled and emphasized with a delighted moan as you took a sip, washing away the inky berry.

“Still not good enough for you,” he admires, plopping a few blueberries in his mouth.

“You’re so cheesy,” you scoff a light chuckle, licking the small line of crema stuck to your upper lip. Sam watches drunkenly.

This week. This room. This state. Your paradise.

The sun warms the horizon as it pokes fully out from the distant mountains. Sam opened the blinds wide and proud first thing this morning and you weren’t grumpy enough to complain- it was quite odd too, given your lack of sleep last night thanks to the dizzy-gazed giant gawking at you.

The sun washes over him like honey. It highlights the caramel in his hair and shimmers his hazel eyes- bringing out the green. It illuminates his skin like he’s a shimmering piece of gold.

Although the coffee is delectable, it comes in disappointing portions and you’re quickly finished with your cup. You set the empty paper cup on the breakfast cart and grab a piece of bacon as you rise to your feet and snatch Sam’s flannel. You stick the bacon in your mouth like a cigar and slip the cloth over your skin, making your way to the window framing a picture perfect landscape.

Sam follows, wearing soon-to-be discarded sweats, and places his hands on your hips. He brushes away some stray hair or cloth to kiss your neck.

“Why’d you have to go and put that on, hm?” He asks, stealing the tip of your earlobe. Shivers tickle your skin and you lean back into his touch.

You stay silent because you have no real reasoning to offer.

His hands roam down your sides, lifting the lengthy cloth of the flannel and pressing you into him. His sweatpants are really a waste of cloth- especially if he isn’t wearing boxers- and even on a completely unbothered sex drive you would feel him flush to your body. But holy fuck, with the thoughts running rampant in his mind accompanied by the memories of last night- images of you- he’s completely prepared to bury right back into you.

You meet his need, running a hand up through his hair and he brings up his own palm to lock your jaw in his hold and forcefully invite your lips to his- your back still pressed into his chest. His free hand folds around the hem of his pants and he starts to pull them down, freeing himself and letting him slide right between you. As you gasp from the twitch of his cock, he slips his tongue along your teeth and lets out a low moan that you feel reverberates on your back.

Montana… you truly will never be forgotten.

———

Comfortable inky black- it’s reminiscent of a certain berry that haunts your taste buds and not of a distant inky hall- subconscious correlation is on your side today. That’s the first wave of relieving victory that washes over you.

The comforting and lonely black wraps around you like welcome arms.

Lonely.

Your chest buzzes with exciting honey-warmth at the idea. How deviously selfish of you to think you’re truly alone. You’re never alone because of him.

Him

Right? Him. He’s here… right?

Your bones feel hollow like a birds and your blood flows under your skin unnoticeably. Your back doesn’t itch with perception and you float in this obsidian black like it's a sensory deprivation tank. You feel nothing but light- like a feather.

You could stay here forever.

The peace brought on by absence of angelic presence buzzing through your veins like adrenaline is addictive and consuming. You could die happy. Your heart feels slow, like simply beating is difficult as if doused in molasses.

But it’s welcoming.

Sweet honey and molasses- the taste is dissolved by the tang of berry dropping like acid and the warmth of espresso melting it like silky chocolate. You swallow, the ghost of flavor washing away as your muscles work. You start to settle like dust, resting over plush cloth puffed up with feathers and stuffing. It feels like you’re placed in a marshmallow.

Rough, calloused hands have been holding your hand for longer than you can register. A thumb caressing the back of your hand. The same hands that have held your neck and cradled your hips as their owner took you right there against the glass- against the Montana scenery.

Sam.

Your memory runs like rewinding a VHS. You see the glowing entity, shimmering voided tile, crystal doorknobs, crackling lightning, the cage, Sam.

Your emotions catch you up next, though, as the tape winds back through. The dread followed by the anger and then curiosity and fear- finalized by relief that makes you feel weightless again.

You’re reminded that you’re alone. Maybe not physically, but mentally. Your skull rattles with only your thoughts.

A deep breath snakes through your nostrils and fills your lungs, starting you fully awake like a switch. Your eyes are sore with sleep and mouth dry, now void of flavors you’re starting to miss.

Sam stumbles your name past his lips, landing in your ear like a desperate plea. He shuffles closer, if even possible, and he’s the first thing that focuses in your vision. His eyes are rimmed with red and puffy skin and his hair falls past its tucked space behind his ears. He’s glowing like gold as he smiles down at you.

“Sam.?” His name rubs past your parched vocal chords and he reaches for a nearby bottle of water, screwing off the cap.

“Here, love, drink,” he helps you sit up and brings the open bottle to your lips. He’s careful and doesn’t let any water drip down your chin.

The water revives your mouth quickly, and as Sam takes away the bottle, you just watch him. He looks exhausted and his hair is a mess but his hopeful eyes light up his face like a beacon.

“How’re you feeling? You’ve been asleep for a while but Rowena said you were just drained. She said Lucifer is gone, is he?” He rambles and you’re a little overwhelmed but you level with him with a soft chuckle.

“I’m good, it’s just me,” you sighed a breath of relief and Sam’s lips twitched in another quick smile. “How long have I been out?” You ask.

“About,” he checks his phone on the side table, “33 hours.” Your eyes widened, “Rowena said it's to be expected, you went through a lot.” His eyes soften and his hold on your hand returns- he massages lightly.

“How did I end up in our room?” You look around, surveying the familiar walls.

“Those cots in the clinic have nothing on the duvet you got us,” he runs his free hand along the fabric. “Couldn’t stand seeing you in there anyways. Needed you here.”

The air is light with free-thinking, and Sam looks like he has a gush of words to spill but he holds them back.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, running his free hand through your hair.

“Mm-hmm,” you nod, closing your eyes in the simple pleasures he rains you with.

“C’mon, let's get you out of bed,” he said, pulling some blankets off of you and helping you to your feet. Sam does everything for you. He gets you a fresh set of clothes, he brushes your hair and smoothes it back, and he makes the bed back up.

You feel a little on auto-pilot. You can’t help but think of how fast everything happened. I mean less than a week ago you were still missing and at the complete mercy of the Devil. The memories flash across your mind and make you cringe.

Sam looks up from his hunched position as he tucks the sheets under the mattress to find that you've wandered to the bathroom and are staring at yourself in the mirror. Your gaze is a little hazy and he knows exactly what's happening but he can’t help the paranoia that creeps up his spine like the tickling touch of Lucifer.

He finishes his task, while keeping a closer eye on you, and slowly approaches you when he’s done. He doesn’t tip toe or brace his hands, he simply walks in as if his aim was to brush his teeth. He stops behind you, gently resting his hands on your hips. You startle at his touch but he doesn't seem to react. He reaches up to brush away some cloth or hair and places a warm kiss on your cheek.

Silence clears the air and you two just enjoy this moment. You can feel his eyes on you through the mirror but it’s comforting and secure unlike what you’ve grown exhausted of when Lucifer was present.

Sam looks over your features as you rest back into him with your eyes closed. Soft, plush skin calls for his lips or hands but he remains in place, keeping his steady grip on your frame.

“You ready?” He murmurs against your shoulder in between kisses. You hum simply, trying to just enjoy the emptiness behind your eyes. You turn to face him, resting your arms on his shoulders and hugging him close.

“So warm,” you mumble past squished lips that you can’t be bothered to move correctly. Sam chuckles softly, running his hands up your back and one continues up to cradle the back of your neck.

“Let’s get you some food, my love,” he remains locked around you for a moment but pulls away once your grip loosens enough to signal that you’re ready. He takes your hand and leads you through the halls.

Everything is so much brighter and airy now, almost like it's in slow motion. You take the time to watch the tile in the hall as you pass- tracing the grout with your eyes and watching the reflected light run along the tile like the moon in a car ride.

Muffled voices carry from the kitchen- tense and agitated. You can tell the sound of discussion ruffles Sam as his pace slows and a heavy exhale cracks open his lips. He glances down at you and a small, reassuring smile lifts his lips against his will.

As you two round the corner into the kitchen, the voices hiss into silence and both Dean and Cas whip their eyes to look over at you as you enter, Dean watches you closely as if he’s expecting you to slam him against the wall telekinetically. Cas simply looks beyond relieved.

“Some iced tea?” Sam asks, looking at you with a warm gaze.

But now they’re all looking.

So many eyes perceive you that you can’t check them all for a red glint. Too many empty corners in the room and unoccupied space in your skull. Paranoia rips the words out of your throat as your mouth goes dry at the thought of- what kind of storm will this serene calm invoke?

“Hey,” Sam repeats, stepping in front of you so that you’re basked in his shadowing guard that deflects unwanted eyes. “Want some tea?” He repeats, watching you closely.

You force a nod to bob your head. Sam waits for a moment to read you- trying to catch any subtle tells that you need out now- but he sees no give so he leads you to a stool so he can go get your favorite glass that is decorated with simple stamps of your second favorite fruit.

…“Oh look at this one!” You gleam, picking up a thin drinking glass with hand painted fruits freckled over the surface.

“That’s a pretty one too,” Sam agrees with an amused chuckle, gently taking the offered cup from your outstretched palm. “Is this the one you want?” He asks.

“Yes! They’re my favorite. Maybe there’s a matching plate?” You turn around to skim through the shelves of mugs on the opposite wall.

A small shop in the town you were staying in in Montana attracted your attention from the Town Square’s Farmers Market. That, and the want to seek shelter as rain dampened the market and made any tent too humid to enjoy. It was meant to be a casual peruse of local farmers and their products- maybe even some independent craft vendors too- so you slipped on a simple outfit that held no pockets for your wallet or phone. Sam was kind enough to offer to carry your personal items, but he used the opportunity to ‘forget’ about your wallet so he could purchase the products you wanted. Like this delicate glass that you’d decided you couldn’t leave without…

Your fingers feel the slightly raised paint of the fruit on the glass and it’s soothing. An idle sensory task that gives you something to focus on.

Sam works around the kitchen, putting together a plate of assorted snacks. It’s eerily familiar as he grabs containers of fruit from the fridge- espresso hints across your tongue like a breath of LaCroix.

“S’he gone?” Dean’s gruff voice cuts through like unfinished paint on a glass that isn’t yours.

“Dean.” Sam glares, grabbing a box of crackers from the cupboard.

“I gotta know,” a chair skids back as he stands quickly and the scrape makes you flinch.

“If the answer was ‘no’, you would have known by now,” Sam’s voice is tight, his patience worn thin. He can’t allow anyone or anything to get in the way of your recovery. He has to step up. He has to make you okay again.

The room is void of speech but sound is rumbled by the crinkle of the box of crackers and their wrapper.

Dean calls your name and Sam looks at you but you try to act normal and just look back at Dean with an expectant expression for him to continue.

“You feelin’ okay?” He asks, his eyes looking over your body like he does to Sam when he’s worried but forced to bite his tongue. Like he’s avoiding your gaze to feel the impact of your trauma less. It doesn't work for him, it never does.

You nod simply.

It’s quiet.

It’s tense.

A plate slides across the counter and the sound prickles your skin but you don’t noticeably react.

You pick at the assortment. You’re hungry as hell but you can only get your body to do so much under the observant gaze of your family.

It’s just your family, you have to remind yourself

You can still feel the boiling pot of unspoken words.

Sam takes the stool next to you and he steals a few bites off your plate. You like his commitment to being casual.

Dean can’t stay still.

“I gotta ask.”

“Dean-,” Sam warns, fed up with Dean’s ‘have-to’s.

“No, Sam. We need to be prepared when Satan come bangin’ at our door lookin’ for them! We need to know if they know where this damn ‘entrance’ is or whatever,” Dean interrupts, looking back at you. “So do you?”

…“How does this even happen?” You scoff, pacing the small area like a lion in a cage. “I thought this was a good hotel,” you let your fear come out in bursts of agitated anger.

“There’s a storm and the power just surged, just give it a minute to start back up. We’re okay,” Sam assures, his own anxiety awoken not from the claustrophobic elevator frozen between floors but rather the strikes of lightning that rattled the hotel with echoes of thunder.

“God, I hate this,” you stop, running both hands over your face and through your hair.

“I know, just give it a moment,” he repeats, reaching out to rest a hand on your shoulder. When you don’t shy away from his touch, he pulls you in for a hug. As soon as he does, the motors whirl and the elevator jerks as it resumes it coarse and swiftly gets you both to your desired floor.

You’re welcoming of Sam’s embrace anytime and even stingy with letting go, but not now. The second the elevator dings, you squeeze past the metal doors and stumble onto a solid floor that you swear you can still feel the unstable ground through.

“Jesus,” you sigh heavily, chuckling embarrassingly at your reaction. “Sorry, I just- god. I really did not want to fall in that damn thing,” your nervous laughter rattles out some heavier breaths.

“I got that,” Sam scoffs sarcastically with a lighthearted smirk. “Feel better?”

“Very much so,” you start to calm and breathe normally and Sam leads you both through the halls and to your room with his palm on your lower back.

He pulls the keycard from his pocket and goes to use it on the door but the building shudders with another crack of violent storm and Sam drops the card as he tenses and his eyes glaze.

Your brows furrow at the unexpected response, and your just idled engine of anxiety starts right back up with concern and not claustrophobic fear.

“Sam?” Your subtle call makes him flinch and he hisses more in muscle reaction and not audibly.

Another crack makes his eyes screw closed and he takes a small step back, dropping the paper bag with your fragile glass. You hear the shatter through the wrapped layers but don’t give it a second thought.

You take a simple step closer but braced hands stop you. You freeze, allowing him a moment to collect himself.

“S-sorry, just-,” his voice is unsteady and thick with haze.

“Take your time,” you assure, reaching down for the keycard and unlocking the door, opening it wide. “Wanna go inside? It’s safer,” he gusts past you like wind and you’re a little shocked at his speed but you keep up.

You’re too focused on him to retrieve the shattered glass contained in tissue and it’s soon discarded by a hotel worker…

Sam’s stomach churns with a gut punch of paranoia. He knew to expect Lucifer coming back in a physical sense, he’s not stupid. Sam also knew that important information being left with you would soon be common knowledge of any and every creature roaming the earth.

But god, he could clock Dean a pretty shiner for speaking like that in front of you so soon.

Sam pushes to his feet, being cautious of the scraping of his stool, and faces Dean fully.

“We can talk about this some other time, man. Now is not it,” Sam heaves, fists clenched.

“It’s simple yes or no,” Dean defends, and you know what he’s doing- he’s scared and deflecting. Maybe if you can offer him some peace in a single worded answer then you should.

“Yes,” your voice is weak and unsure, not like the hunter they’re used to. Sam’s head drops just a bit, as if relinquishing his puffed up defense and Dean looks past Sam and at you.

“You know where the entrance is?” Dean’s voice is tight. The answer didn’t ease his fear.

“Yes,” you repeat, still a simple croak. “I know how to access it and how to lock it. I know everything there is to know about it,” you look down at your colorful plate, lively with nutritious, cold fruits. You find it insulting in this moment.

The room stills like just about frozen water and it even sends a shiver up your spine.

“We aren’t discussing this right now,” Sam says to Dean as he opens his mouth to ask another question.

“I think they can speak for themselves,” Dean scoffs. You can’t- not right now at least.

“What Sam said,” you grab the plate with a shaky hand and your cup with the other, rushing out of the kitchen and down to your room. The closer you get to the door, the more panicked you feel- like being chased- but you keep your grip on the glass tight, not wanting to go back for a cup with your third favorite fruit on it.

…The mini fridge in the hotel room hosts half a dozen water bottles, some single-use spirits, and left overs from housekeeping from the past few days. The tray of fruit from this morning sits in the middle shelf. You pull it out as well as a water bottle.

Sam is sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed, bouncing his leg with his latched hands in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees. He almost looks like he’s praying.

You set the fruit and bottle on the rolling tray and bring it by him, kneeling in front of him, letting your hands rest on his once assuring he won't flinch away again.

“I’ve got a snack and some cold water?” You offer. You have no idea what he’s experiencing but you do know that cold snacks help you with panic attacks.

Perhaps your mind will change its stance on the comfort of cold one day.

Sam sighs, dipping his head further if that's even possible, and moves his mouth as he tries to find the right words.

Just as you think he’s about to speak, another crack of angry weather lights up the room and shakes through the space like a mini earthquake. He curls up into himself and a small whimper breaks your heart.

You don’t know what to do or how to help, so you hover pathetically, waiting for an opportunity to step in and help out.

“We’re okay,” you blurt, settling a little closer. “It’s just a bad storm and that’s it. It is scary and loud but we’re okay. This is still the same room we’ve learned so much about each other in,” you attempt to reach up and brush away some hair. He stiffens at the touch but doesn’t flinch away. You continue. “This room is not ruined by whatever memories you’re reliving. This is still our space and our time. You and me,” your palm settles against his cheek and he leans into the touch.

“You and me,” he echos, eyes still screwed closed.

“That’s all that’s here.”…

“I’m sorry about Dean,” Sam sighs, sitting next to you on the bed.

“I know he’s just scared. I expected him to be brash, I just still wasn’t ready for it,” you look down at your intertwined fingers.

“You shouldn’t have to make yourself ready to be around him.” Sam shakes his head, watching you idly trace his fingers.

“Agreed,” you sigh, resting your head on Sam’s shoulder and glancing over at the fresh fruit and iced tea that sits on your nightstand. “I am scared though.”

Sam’s heart cinches and his lids fall closed to absorb the hit. “Of him?” He asks.

“Mh-mm,” you nod on his shoulder, “of him finding us, he won’t stop until he finds me and gets that info,” your throat constricts with a suppressed sob and your eyes sting. “He’s gone but he still haunts this bunker. He’s ruined my sense of security. He’s even managed to weasel himself in Dean’s paranoia.”

“Dean will always be the first to overthink and panic in the form of misplaced anger,” Sam nudges you softly, hoping to lighten the tension just a bit.

“I’ve only been consciously rid of him for an hour but he’s still everywhere,” the words are whispered in fear of being heard.

Sam knows this feeling all too well. He knows the stain Lucifer leaves in his wake, he’s been expecting it when you woke up. It didn’t make the reality of it any easier though.

When Sam struggled with his hallucinations, at least he didn’t have the bunker to be ruined for him. He remembers how long it took him to comfortably drive the Impala again, he couldn’t imagine dealing with his ghost in his own home like this.

“I knew he wouldn’t just vanish from our lives but I didn’t want to waste any mental energy planning for how it would be once he was gone, yaknow?” You ask, hoping you’re making sense. You’re so mentally spent that you can’t take the time to draft your words before speaking them.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Sam speaks thickly. “I know it feels unsafe, but he’s gone and the warding on the bunker is still activated. He’s not getting back inside of this building, I can promise you that,” Sam hopes the facts will help settle your anxiety. “This is still our room and our home. This place won’t be ruined by him forever. Right now, it’s just you and me,” Sam says, repeating the words that you have often told him when he’s struggling with his PTSD.

“Just you and me,” you whisper, looking up at him while still resting on his shoulder. He smiles back with shimmering hazel green eyes.

…The hotel bed is a mess of blankets and piled pillows. Sam lays comfortably, watching the movie he selected- The Truman Show. It’s one of his favorites, only if you knew the subconscious reason why.

You’re sitting up somewhat, resting against the bedframe and Sam is using your lap as a pillow. You play idly with his hair, running your fingers through his locks that you’re admittedly jealous of. He didn’t open up much earlier but what he did say is that thunderstorms remind him of his time in hell- his centuries. You felt nauseous at the empty interpretation, not knowing was always scarier than knowing. Living it was beyond worse.

You listened and you didn’t speak much while he had stuttered out the words. You had never seen him as small as he was as he explained himself. Even with how well you had claimed to know him before making things official, it was still jarring to see him like he was today.

After that incident, the rest of the night was calm and he forced himself to stay awake to finish the movie so he could watch Truman walk out a free man and no longer be a caged zoo animal for people's voyeurism. Only then did Sam curl into your torso like a body pillow and let his eyes close for an attempted night's rest.

He flinched a lot in his sleep and murmured a few times, he even started shivering at one point, but once you resumed a soft brush through his hair he would settle back to sleeping like a rock.

You had a hard time sleeping that night, though, so you watched whatever was on. It was a little hard to avoid the many good channels you’re not used to getting anyways.

That week in Montana accomplished more than a spoiled ‘honey-moon’-esque trip of mindblowing sex and bougie restaurants, it opened both of your hearts to deeper levels of each other you didn’t know really existed.

Sam got to see the short fuse you had in early mornings and the way you would fall mute after an overly social day out and about town. And you got to allow Sam a safe space that let him come down from internalized fragile masculinity that his father instilled in him as well as Dean’s exhibit of such shows as a reminder of.

Even in a week of pure bliss, you both had challenging moments that showed who you both really are on a vulnerable level and you still checked out of the hotel more bonded than either of you could have hoped for…

“I’m sorry,” Dean rubs a hand over his face as he and Cas occupy a pair of seats in the library with a crystal bottle of whiskey that he and his beloved often share. Dean sighs your name with aching emphasis of his guilt and continues, “really, I didn’t mean to freak you out. There was definitely a better approach to asking you that. Besides, I shoulda’ trusted you and Sammy,” he looks up at you sheepishly but his face is still a stone mask as he tries to hide his admission of guilt.

“You should have,” you agree unbiased, trying to keep harsh tones out of your voice. “But you were just worried and I can understand that. I’m scared too,” you admit, taking a seat at one of the middle tables. Sam sets a grounding hand on your shoulder and you reach up to hold it. “I’m just so damn tired of him controlling the last month of my life,” you know it’s been less than that in their preception, but they can deal with confusion in your story if they need to, “that I want to at least pretend like he doesn’t exist for today.”

“I can understand that,” he nods, probably thinking back to what it felt like for him to experience life after Hell.

You catch Cas’ warm smile as if he’s watching his child make friends on a playground. His eyes hold so much accomplished empathy for him as an angel and emotion melts his face. You can’t help but smile back at him- a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes like his does but that still provides wondrous relief for him.

“What would you like to do?” Cas asks, hoping to supply you whatever it is you need.

“Movie night?” You suggest with a questioning shrug, looking between Dean and Cas. Dean nods, finishing his glass of whiskey with a refreshed hiss.

“You’re pick. Cas, let’s order a pizza,” Dean stands, putting the request into motion and downing the rest of Cas’ whiskey as well after it’s offered to him. The couple leaves the room with mild discussion of food choices for the movie.

“I’m thinkin’ Truman Show,” you say, leaning back to look up at Sam and he scoffs a smile back down at you.

“Yeah?” Sam says, coming down to kiss your forehead gingerly.

“Mh-mm,” you hum, closing your eyes and basking in his kiss. “I get it now.”

“It’s always been a comfort watch for me and I never knew why until watching it after Cas took on my hallucinations,” his tone is grim but accepting. He always knew.

It was quiet for a few moments and you had to ask. “What if he’s out looking now, what if he’s sending everything he can right now?” You nibble on your lip, dropping your head down to watch as your fingers trace the pattern in your pants.

“Then we’ll handle it, but like you said, Lucifer doesn't exist tonight, okay? The warding will hold and Rowena is out now deterring Lucifer’s trail,” you feel a little guilty that you haven’t thought to ask about her whereabouts yet. But it’s the first hopeful thing you find blind faith in, at least for a few hours. You’re safe now, you’re free from Lucifer's manipulation here in the bunker. It’s your safe haven, and that’s all you need right now.

The cozy nest formed in the movie room with pillows and blankets is warm and inviting and you take your usual spot to the far right, away from the door, and set up the movie as Sam retrieves your snacks from your room and Cas teleports to quickly and stealthily pick up the pizza. He insisted on ordering from a pizza place in Detroit so as to not be spotted around the area.

Tonight is simply a movie night, and you’re thankfully able to shut off your brain as Sam hands you your replacement glass of your second favorite fruit from the week of paradise that you will forever hold dear to your heart.

———————

end note: good lord i cannot believe this series is finally over. this SO didn't start out to be this long, i fr only meant to do like maybe 3 parts T.T,, buuut i'm so glad it continued to an end!! special thanks to @blossomingorchids for being sooo supportive and hype for this series- you fr helped me finish this w how excited and passionate you are about it :] also special thanks to @internallysalad for being the first person ever to ask to be on a taglist of mine, you made me feel so accomplished when you commented hehe :] thank you all for your support, i hope you enjoyed ^.^

p.s. if any of you have requests for this specific series, i will be taking them!! like if you want to see a oneshot of reader when they were possessed and got the info in the first place or want more fluffly (or smutty) montana time (hehe) or even more hurt/comfort w reader or sam's trauma, i will gladly oblige!! love this series too much to just give it up tbh :,) may even rewrite it one day to fully round out this work,, but that's for another time!!

thank you all a million times over muah muah <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

>tags: @internallysalad @blossomingorchids @bobbdylan @areswasneverhere @mostlymarvelgirl

[aemnds]

─ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

❛ ♡. gif credit.

★ ── modern!aemond comes home early to surprise his little wife.

◜ ♡ ⃗ ⎯⎯ [3:41 pm — aemond targaryen]

she had just finished cutting the strawberry, crème sandwiches into diagonal slices as the front door opened— revealing her beloved husband, aemond targaryen.

smiling, she hurried over to him, helping him remove his long, leather jacket, before bending down to untie and remove his black, combat boots.

once she placed both things neatly away, she returned to her patiently waiting husband and reached up on the tips of her bare, pedicured toes—which were painted pale, baby pink—and kissed his soft, pillowy lips -- humming at the minty flavor he always seemed to taste of.

“hello, my love,” she greeted him softly, after pulling away from him to continue preparing his lunch. she hummed softly as she worked, grabbing a handful of salted almonds and placing them into a tiny container for later to snack on.

aemond hummed, walking up behind her and wrapping his long, lean arms around her— pulling her back slightly so that she was snuggly pressed back against his hard, front torso— making her smile with happiness.

“my love, i need to finish preparing your lunch,” she says with a light giggle, feeling him bend down and press multiple kisses along the sides of her neck and collarbones, where he knew she was most sensitive.

“i’ve missed you,” he murmured, nearly whining as he lightly scraped his teeth against her thumping pulse point, before beginning to suck on her earlobe, humming in content at the delicious taste of her soft, silky skin.

she made a giggling sound, trying to pull away as she finished cutting a few slices of apple—without the skins—just as aemond preferred, before turning around to face him.

he towered over her, a small smirk on his lips as he bent his knees down to press his lips to hers, wrapping his strong arms around her waist tightly— possessively.

“hm.. my pretty, little wife— you are truly perfection,” he says lowly, before pressing his lips back against hers, moaning at the sweet, honeyed taste of her -- his tongue slipping inside of her warm, wet mouth.

“gods,” aemond groaned into the kiss, hearing her whimper and try to kiss him back with the same intensity as he was kissing her. “i am so lucky to have you— my sweet girl, my only love,” he tells her, his voice boarding on obsessive.

“i love you, i love you, i love you— you’re mine, all fucking mine… say it,” he demands, voice deep and nearly begging—gods, if aegon ever found out that he spoke to his wife this way, he’d call him a fucking simp and never hear the end of it.

she giggles femininely, flashing him a pretty, lovesick smile as she was so used to her husband’s possessive behavior over her, “i love you, aemond— i am yours,” she purrs, fluttering her eyelashes up at him innocently -- like a sweet, little virgin.

aemond smirked, leaning around her and swiping a long finger behind her into the homemade whipped cream she had made, pulling it back and sucking the sweetness into his watering mouth, a soft hum escaping him— tasting the sweet aroma of vanilla extract.

“delicious,” he purred, smirking down at her -- before he swiped another finger into the whipped cream, holding out his long, calloused finger near her plush, pink lips to give her a taste.

she gave him a look of surprise, raising an eyebrow at his teasing grin as she wrapped her lips around his finger, sucking the whipped cream off of his digit with a soft, breathy moan.

“and to think… you’ve made my favorite strawberry sandwiches too,” he says conversationally, his voice deep and husky as he looked down at her with a dilated, amethyst eye -- which was burning with desire.

“i have an idea,” aemond announces suddenly, watching his wife hungrily suck on his index finger, his eye darkening with lust.

aemond suddenly pulled his finger away, running the long, calloused fingers of his right hand over his wife’s exposed shoulder as he pressed her back more firmly against the large, kitchen countertop that he had built for her out of marble.

she gave him a curious look, doe eyes blinking up at him innocently and pink lips slightly parted in question. “yes, my love?” she asks him sweetly, her voice high-pitched and as sweet as the whipped cream she had made just for him.

aemond let out a soft sigh, letting his calloused fingertips brush down and over the thin, pink tank-top, admiring the little white flowers decorating the thin material that covered her perky breasts— her nipples hardening as he moved down closer and closer -- before tweaking a nipple between his long, deft fingertips.

he heard her gasp softly, her back arching into him and her heavy eyelids fluttering with lust, her cunt becoming more and more wet the more time he paid attention to her.

…he drove her absolutely wild.

aemond hummed lowly, giving a nod, “how about we put this delicious lunch away for later that you’ve made for me… oh, so lovingly— and how about i eat you instead, hm?” he murmured softly, though there was a hint of darkness to his voice as he began to grind his hardening cock into her lower belly, making her whimper pathetically for him.

she gasped softly, doe eyes wide and blinking repeatedly, before nodding eagerly in agreement, already starting to put the lunch away for later consumption for when they were both hungry after their… activities.

aemond happily trailed after his little wife, watching as she placed the food away neatly in the refrigerator -- the front of his hard, clothed torso pressed firmly against her back.

he started pressing ravenous kisses down the right side of her delicate neck once again— enjoying the sight of the purple blemishes he’d made last night -- while sucking and biting the smooth skin as if his wife was a sweet, forbidden fruit made specifically for him.

she knew how aemond could get -- her husband could become nearly frenzied— practically a beast when it came to her, and it seemed she was in for a long afternoon of orgasm after orgasm, as he whispered hotly that he wished for nothing more than to feast on her sweet, little cunt.

[thewritertiger]

strawberry shortcake au!

i can't believe i'm actually going to bother you with my recurring hyperfixation, but here we go,folks!

world building:

This Pinescone au is based on the 80s Strawberry Shortcake series. but with some modifications that I made to adapt to the au and the characters and at the same time taking elements from the other reboots

In this version, Strawberryland is a quiet, remote small town where the tiny habitants spend all seasons harvesting their fruits and vegetables. At the pace of the series, there will be no villains, but there will only be simple problems in the town that end well in the end. (like the children's series of those times. Take reference from My Little Pony (the first generations), the Moomins, the Smurfs)

All the habitants are smaller than fruits, each one has their own job or house in a shape of a sweet (like a cake house, etc.). and each inhabitant is characterized by its fruit flavor and aroma. what makes them unique and differentiable

Everyone in Strawberryland has a specific skill in cooking. (For example, Wirt specializes in the sweets served in cafes.)

There are other towns depending on the flavor and taste (a vegetable town, another of flour, another of ice cream) but Strawberryland focuses on fruits.

pinescone headcanons:

They both met like it happens in the 80s series, except that Dipper would get lost trying to find the town and Wirt would offer him a hand. (just look at the damn video and imagine wirt and dipper singing this adorably!. don't tell me this is not a big deal)

2. Wirt runs a coffee shop in the village and lives there. It is his home and his coffee shop at the same time.

3. (NOT DECIDED YET) Dipper being a strawberry his sister Mabel is a blueberry. Together they are the Berry twins (Help I don't know what fruit to give Mabel I'm between blueberry, cherry, raspberry or like the canonical sister in the 80s series "Apple Dumplings". I need help with this part). Mabel specializes in cooking with excessive sugar dishes and is also the town's fashion designer.

4. Mabel forces Dipper to wear the clothes she creates for Dipper. Dipper is embarrassed and frustrated to walk around the town like that. Wirt finds it adorable and cute, and is always curious to know what cute clothes Dipper will wear.

5.Wirt loves cooking for Dipper, it's one of his favorite things because he loves every tender expression of joy that the little strawberry puts on when trying his new and improved desserts.

6.Wirt has the personality of a spoiled and affectionate mother. She loves her friends very much (especially Dipper) and will show her affection through actions.

7.Dipper is considered Wirt's favorite customer at the cafeteria. He sometimes helps him taste his new or improved desserts.

8.They both give each other affectionate nicknames, Dipper is "little strawberry" and Wirt is "orange pie"

9. Dipper doesn't know how to cook, every single thing he cooks burns. It's considered weird not to know how to cook or specialize in a recipe in Strawberryland. But Dipper doesn't care, his true talent is writing. He writes diaries and books and works for the town newspaper (the poor thing has a lot of writer block)

10.Wirt tries to suppress the desire to kiss and pinch those chubby, pink cheeks that the strawberry has. He is so adorable that sometimes he can't control himself.

11. They both like each other, Wirt knows his feelings perfectly while Dipper still doesn't admit it. They both didn't declare themselves for fear of ruining their friendship.

12.Wirt writes music and poetry in his freetime, he shares it with Dipper after closing at night. All his poems and music are dedicated to Dipper but he doesn't realize it yet.

13.Dipper is very absent-minded and clumsy lol

that's all you can go now pipipipi

[weixuldo]

Pancakes and Pastries

Linecook/Roommate! Anakin x GN!Reader

a/n: this is based on this lovely asks from @ddejavvu (link here). Just a preface, I didn't assign a gender becasue I wasn't sure what the ask implied (if u want me to change it I gladly will :) anyways, other notes will be at the end to clear up more abt the story.

You’re a terrible cook and only sell the baked goods at a small cafe downtown. Thankfully, your roommate, Anakin is an experienced linecook and is ready to make anything for you. Too bad he's a natural flirt, otherwise you might just find yourself falling for him.

Warnings: gn!reader, cursing, banter, no use of y/n

________________________

6:30 a.m 

The tiny brass bell above the cafe door dinged continuously as the working crowd came to grab a small bite before heading off to work. 

The cafe was filled with the warm aroma of coffee beans and fresh pastries. The display windows held rows of all types of treats; macrons, muffins, strudels, bagels, cookies, toast, and many more. A plethora of coffee makers and different flavorings to cater to each customer’s specific desires, lined the back counter.

Mornings were always pretty busy, you were in the heart of the city after all.

You had gotten up ungodly early to prepare for the day, so once you got everything ready and opened the shop you were pretty tired. But regardless of the exhaustion creeping in, you still had a full shift ahead of you so you needed to put on your best customer service face and seize the day. 

Latte, snickerdoodle cookie, iced chai tea with two pumps of vanilla, farmhouse roast with cold foam, 5 assorted macaroons, a slice of key lime pie, a frosted eclair, strawberry crepes. The orders came in waves and you prepared them all. 

You weren’t even scheduled today, but your boss called you at the last minute because the new guy got fired for stealing inventory (really what was he stealing? There was nothing but ingredients in the back), so you hauled ass down here.

Sadly today the staff joining you today were rookies, so you had to take orders and keep an eye on them too. 

It was bad enough that the bakers in the back were being lazy today, but to deal with new workers who didn’t know the system was even more frustrating. 

It was going to be a a long day.

3:50 p.m.

The cafe closed early on Sundays, so you flipped the “we’re open” sign over and got ready to close everything down when you heard a knock on the door.

Whoever that was would just have to stay disappointed because you were too tired to deal with another needy customer right now.

They knocked again and you had to collect a calming breath to make sure you wouldn’t go off on them when you turned around. Much to your surprise behind the glass door was your roommate….your handsome roommate.

Anakin Skywalker was an interesting guy. Deviously handsome looks, insane confidence, witty humor, and radiating charisma.

A few months ago you were apartment hunting but the rates in the city were way too high for you to pay alone, so you put out an ad for a roommate. A lot of the requests you got were from older people and you didn’t exactly feel the most comfortable as a young adult, just starting out, living with someone two or even three times your age. 

After a few days you stumbled upon Anakin’s application. Maybe his picture captured your attention… maybe you stalked his instagram to see if he was a serial killer (and to look at more of his pics).... Either way, the two of you obviously ended up living together. 

When he first moved in you were worried he would be bringing chicks back every night based on his stunning looks and flirtatious personality, but thankfully you were mistaken.

He was just a normal guy; go to work, come home, shower, eat, sleep, repeat. You didn’t mind that at all, because your routine was basically identical. 

A small blush rose to your cheeks as you headed for the door. His hair was held back by a folded black bandana and he had his own apron in hand. 

“The door was open, ya know” you said, motioning him into the establishment. 

“Oh, the sign was flipped, so I assumed…” he said, motioning to the door. 

“Mhmm”

“We are almost closed, but i’ll allow you one purchase, just cause i'm so nice” you teased. 

He walked up to the counter and surveyed the sweets, “oh, are you now? If you’re such a kind person, how about giving me a coffee cake on the house, sweetheart?”.

“Woah, woah, woah… you’re asking a bit too much there pretty boy” 

He leaned over the counter slightly with a smirk, “aww, you think i’m pretty”.

In response you playfully rolled your eyes, “yuck! It’s just an expression, Skywalker, don’t get an ego about it” .

He grabbed her beaten up wallet out of his back pocket and laughed, “You already know i’ve got an ego”. 

“That I do” you quipped back as you grabbed a coffee cake slice

“You love it though” he smiled as he handed you a ten.

Your eyes lingered on his forearm as he offered you the cash, he was a fit guy and the veins on his arms bulged just right; plus he was a line cook, so you knew that he had good dexterity in those pretty fingers too. 

“Whatever you say” 

You weren’t going to tell him, but you added your 50% off employee discount (since you were on the clock) just ‘cause. 

The cash drawer popped open with a ding and you went to hand him back his change.

“You heading back to the apartment?” he asked as he gathered his cake. 

“Yea, I’m gonna take a nap, I’m tired as shit. I’m guessing you’re about to go into work?” 

He drew his lips into a thin line, “yep, I’m livin’ the dream. Are you gonna get lunch?”

“Probably” 

“You should, food is important…Have a good afternoon though”. 

You returned the gesture and went back to wiping down the coffee bar when you heard a few clinks and the door closed shortly after.

Your brows furrowed at the speed at which he left, but to be fair his shift was literally starting in two minutes. You walked up to the register to lock it when you saw he had tossed the rest of his ten in the tip jar; a small smile spread across your tired face.

11:02 p.m.

Your sleep schedule was so fucked up from all of these awkward shifts so you were just waking up from your nap (if you can even call it that).

Before you could register what to do next, your stomach let out a hungry growl and you groaned. You forgot to eat lunch and missed dinner so you were starving; sadly, it was grocery shopping weekend for you and you were out of instant meals.

A sandwich then. 

You put on a small tank top and some gray shorts and headed to the kitchen. You hated cooking and you weren’t good at it either, so usually you had a salad kit, turkey dinner meal, or a premade acai bowl in the fridge. But since you were out of your usual options, you had to stick with a good ol’ PB&J.

You heard the click of keys in the door and you knew Anakin was back from his shift. Some of you wanted to dash back to your room and just wait until he went to shower to make it; you were lowkey intimidated by him. Before you could leave he noticed you and greeted you. 

“Oh, Hey Anakin, how was work?”

“It was fine, the Sunday night rush is insane though, I’m so glad I go in later tomorrow” he groaned, sitting down at one of the barstools in front of the counter. 

“You makin’ a little snack?” he asked, leaning over to see the ingredients in front of you. 

“It’s more like dinner and lunch-”

His eyes widened, “lunch?! I thought you were getting something on the way back?”. 

You shrugged, “I guess I forgot”.

“So you’re going to use a PB&J to supplement two missed meals?” he asked, bewildered. 

“Uh huh” you nodded. 

“No, no, no…” he muttered as he hopped off the stool and came around the counter beside you. 

He took the knife from your hand and began to put the spreads away. 

“Hey!” you exclaimed with a frown.

“Listen, If you’re going to break a two meal fast, I’ll be damned if I let you break it with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich” he huffed out a laugh. 

“Alright wise guy, what do you suggest instead? We both know I’m a horrible cook”.

He bent down and grabbed a pan from the cabinet and some ground beef.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously. 

“I’m making you some food. Go ahead and sit down, I’ve got this” he said softly as he started up the stove.

“No, it’s really alright Anakin, you just got off of work. You really don’t have-”

“I want to,” he responded.

You stopped talking and took a seat as he maneuvered around the kitchen like he had been here his whole life. 

He chopped the beef and while it cooked he mixed spices to season the meat with. You watched him intensely; when he cooked his brows furrowed in concentration and the right one arched ever so slightly.

He lightly bit his bottom lip when he shook the pan to flip the tiny pieces of beef, and the tendons in his pretty hands flexed with every movement. 

You really shouldn't be thinking about your roommate this way, but sometimes it was almost impossible not to. Inside, you cursed yourself for even thinking you had a shot with him; he was just a generally flirty guy and acted the same way he did with you when you brought friends over (though he was honestly just being nice). Plus there was no way that you would be his first choice out of all of the people who wanted him. 

Anakin stood over the pan and shook out the seasoning he had just made to flavor the meat. Sure, he was tired from a seven hour shift, but this was for you; when it came to you, he would do almost anything. 

He wasn’t exactly sure when his little “crush” started, he just knew that it was definitely there. Maybe it was when he realized you worked in the cafe beside his restaurant, so he would pop in as often as he could to grab little sweets; ones he could easily make himself, but he chose to buy them just as an excuse to see you (much to the detriment of his wallet). 

Or maybe it was when he realized you discounted all of his purchases.

Or was it those late nights where the two of you would put on movies and share funny commentary whilst sharing a bowl of popcorn. 

Or was it simply because of the way you maneuvered through life? Your sunny disposition, wonderful personality, and genuine kindness… plus you were drop dead gorgeous.

Whatever it was, he was locked in… of course he still kinda flirted around, but he was a natural flirt. At this point he couldn’t imagine wanting someone as much as he wanted you, he was entrapped by the possibility of having you in the future. 

But of course, being the oblivious guy he is, he had no idea his feelings were reciprocated at all. So he chose not to act on his feelings out of fear of losing his spot in the apartment (if it went bad, you could kick him out and look for a different roommate to replace him). 

“It’s done,” he said, turning the oven off and putting the pan on a cool burner. 

“What is it?” you asked, walking around to his side. 

“It’s meat for a taco,” he said, grabbing some cheese, guac, and lettuce. 

“Oh, wow! That’s awesome, you made that so quick!” you exclaimed, looking at the pan. 

“Here, let me grab a spoon to get the meat out” he said passing behind you.

Your eyes widened when you felt his strong hands on your waist as he moved past; did you feel that right? Did his hand linger? And why were you feeling hot?

“Here” he handed you the spoon.

“Thanks Anakin, this is really sweet” you said, getting your taco ready. 

“No problem roomie” he said in a sing-songy voice.

“And with this you’ll have left overs so you can have lunch tomorrow. Don't forget again” he fake scolded. 

“Alright dad” you quipped back. 

He laughed and shook his head as he headed back to his room to take a shower. You observed his broad back as his shirt defined his shoulder blades and muscles while he walked. 

Fuck. You were getting way too attracted to him. 

___________________________

You woke up to a sweet aroma of pancake batter and fresh fruit. It wasn’t often that you and Anakin ever got up around the same time but apparently today was your lucky day. 

He truly loved the culinary arts because he never faltered with his ambition to prepare a quality meal. He cooked breakfast a lot, but most times you were already at work and just saw the dishes in the sink or only got to have a quick bite. Though, every so often, on a rare day like this, both of you were able to share a delicious breakfast together (he always made sure to make breakfast for you when he knew you were off). 

You walked out of your room with a yawn and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Once you took a seat he handed you a freshly made plate and tossed some strawberries on top. 

“Look who finally decided to get up” he joked with a smirk. 

You yawned once more, “Listen master chef, if my boss didn’t call me in for every little inconvenience- maybe my sleep schedule might not be as fucked”. 

“Fair, fair” he nodded. 

“Thanks for breakfast, it looks yummy” 

“Of course” he smiled back

You looked at the plate with hungry eyes, it looked amazing, the only other thing you would add was-

“You want some of this, don't you?” Anakin smiled, flaunting a new bottle of whipped cream in front of you. 

“Ugh” you rolled your eyes.

“I know how you take your pancakes,” he laughed, “you’re very predictable”.

“Am I?” you said before trying to quickly grab the can from his hand. 

He laughed again and raised his arm higher, “that’s not gonna work and you know it.”.

“What can I do to get some whipped cream around here?” you cried comically. 

“Well this stuff isn't cheap and we’re going through the largest national whipped cream shortage in history” he said, trying to sound serious. 

“Oh, wow that’s tough” you returned with an unamused tone. 

“Isn’t it though?” he added. 

“I guess if you want some, you’ll just have to pay me” he looked away. 

“With what Mr.whipped cream enthusiast? We both make shit money” you exxagerated. 

“I may consider non monetary payment… possibly a kiss on the cheek?” he said.

“You want me to kiss you on the cheek?” you asked.

It probably came out more rude than you intended, it was only becasue you were flustered and your tones always got jumbled when you were nervous. 

“Well you know what they say, “kiss the chef”. But if you don’t want any whipped cream…” he stated; he was a little nervous that he put himself too out there (he was never the best at subtlety). 

“No, no! I want my whipped cream, so I will comply” you said proudly. 

“Alright” he smirked. 

…

… …

“Are you going to come collect your compensation or just stand there with the bottle in your hand?” you asked playfully. 

“Oh, right. How dare I make a customer wait” he smiled, walking towards you.

“You’re so full of shit, Skywalker '' you teased as he bent down so you could kiss his cheek. 

He felt butterflies when your soft, pillowy lips landed on his flushed cheek. How he had imagined that feeling. 

“Alright, here you are mam” he shot out a dollop.

“That’s it?!” you exclaimed, unsatisfied. 

“Each shot is one kiss” he shrugged, “national shortage…remember?”.

“Ugh” you rolled your eyes and continued to kiss his cheek until you were satisfied with the amount on your plate. 

“Alright, alright. Thank you for the great customer service, I'll be sure to leave a good review on yelp” you joked as you pushed him away so you could eat in peace. 

“Much appreciated, thank you mam” he smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever” you responded, with a light blush tinting your cheeks. 

5:30 p.m.

Anakin groaned from his room before entering the living area with his scrunched up apron in hand. HE stopped in his doorway to stretch. 

“Man, I really don’t feel like going in today”.

You hummed in acknowledgement, “It shouldn’t be too busy, since its only a monday ''.

“Yeah, I hope so” he said, putting his work shoes on that he kept by the door. 

You glanced over your shoulder to look at his muscles rippling as he tied the laces; it was mesmerizing. 

He stood and you whipped your head around quicker than you thought was possible. 

“Alright, I’ll see you later. It’s my week for trash right?” he asked, grabbing his keys.

“Mhm”

“Ok, I’ll take it out when I get back tonight. Don’t worry, I won’t forget” he smiled before waving a small goodbye and shutting the door. 

Something about him was just so homely, he was so sweet and thoughtful; you felt that living with him was just natural at this point. 

________________

The restaurant was actually pretty busy when he first arrived, he saw a few party tables as he walked in. Great…

After clocking in, he got straight to work; manning the char grill, making sure all the orders were getting out in a timely manner, and goofing around with the other cooks. 

In passing one of the cooks asked how his crush was doing. 

“What do you mean?” Anakin innocently asked with a stupid smile on his face. 

“Oh, just the one you live with. Ya know, no biggie” he laughed. 

“Doing well, I made us breakfast this morning,” Anakin proudly stated.

___

All of the staff knew about Anakin’s not so little thing for you. He had been working at this restaurant for a while and was pretty acquainted with everyone. The cooks all knew abt you because everyone liked to talk in the kitchen, plus some of the other guys were curious about Anakin’s love life, seeing that he was so desirable (all of the waitstaff thought he was fine as hell). 

He showed them your instagram when the two of you first started living together and everyone in the kitchen cheered him on. 

The waitstaff on the other hand were not so thrilled that the handsome and mysterious line cook already had his sights set on someone else… someone who wasn’t them. Of course they were jealous, but when they got your insta from Anakin, they couldn’t even find anything bad to say about you;l you were stunning. 

Doesn’t mean they liked you though…

___

A new order buzzed onto the screen above that had all sorts of modifications; Anakin was about to groan, until he recognized something familiar…

Usually no one asked for a salad without tomatoes and cheese but instead with rice, cucumbers, raspberries, strawberries, and chicken- or cinnamon on their mashed potatoes; there was only one person he knew who ever ordered such a peculiar combination.

You.

The waitress who rang in the order walked by and Anakin caught her attention. 

“Hey, the person who ordered thi-”

“Yeah, I know. They’re such a pain. Like, at this point, just make it at home if you want so many modifications” she rambled

He then described your appearance to her and asked if the customer fit the description.

“Yea, sounds like ‘em” she said before carrying on with her work. 

He smiled, you came into his place on your day off. Suddenly he felt a warm sensation in his chest. 

The waitress came barreling back in and shouted Anakin’s name, “they apparently forgot to say they didn’t want-”

“Butter on the mash” he finished, already knowing what was coming next. 

“Yea, how’d you know?” she asked, confused. 

“That’s my roommate, I make this for us all the time back at home”.

She gave him a look before walking away to whisper something into another server’s ear. He knew they were then going to go out and judge you because they were jealous. Typical. 

He continued to make your plate with care and since it wasn’t busy, even spent time drawing a little hearts with the cinnamon and salad dressing (not very subtle Anakin). 

The other cooks notice and start making fun of him and he playfully starts winding up a rag to snap at them. 

Once your food has been run he slipped out of the kitchen for a “bathroom” break; obviously everyone knows where he’s going.

He walks out into the front house and is immediately relieved by the cooler AC in there, next he scanned the tables and booths until he spotted your familiar face.

Soon enough he offers himself a seat in the booth opposite of you. 

”Anakin!” you exclaim, “You scared me”.

“My apologies Sunshine, Just thought I’d come out and see my favorite customer” he said before winking. 

“How’d you even know I was- “ you began before you looked down at your plate and realized. 

“Yea, not many people are out here ordering such a peculiar combo” he teased. 

“I should have known it was you who made the plate, well with the hearts and all. That must take a lot of time, they were really precise” you said, taking a sip of your water. 

He laughed before answering, “I reserve those for very special guests'' (he only did those when you came in). 

“Well, I wonder if you do this to persuade certain “people” to cut back on your rent for the month” you arched a playful brow. 

He clenched his chest and looked offended, “Of course not! I would never do such a thing”.

You laughed at his stupidity. 

He loved making you laugh, it was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. 

You saw a few other cooks poking their heads around the wall that divided the kitchen from the seating in curiosity. 

“I think your co-workers want you to hurry up” you smiled, pointing towards the entrance to the kitchen. 

He let out a sigh, “I guess so”. 

As he stood you thanked him for stopping by; “My compliments to the chef” you teased. 

“I am always at your service” he dramatically bowed before jogging to the back. 

When he left you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart was racing… you were in too deep (but so was he). 

Anakin spent the rest of the night happily making orders; he no longer cared he was at work, because you had just made his day. 

Everyone in the kitchen began to tease him because he had a certain glow to him and they all knew why. 

“When are you finally gonna go on a date?” someone asked him. 

“Yea, you seem pretty damn sure about this one” another butted in. 

He smiled to himself, “Soon guys. soon…”

***

a/n: The reader likes some weird ass combos lmfaooo. Basically these two are both missing the point that the other likes them. Now to clear up some things, I know cafe's are usually open all day but I needed it to close early for the plot. Also, I worked at a steakhouse and modeled Anakin's work as such just cause its what i'm most familiar with (Ironically I don't eat meat lol).