#Sidewalk Meals of Tumblr

[ffeatherisffeather]

[somewheredownthesidewalk]

December 31, 2023

Albuquerque, New Mexico

[qiyutism]

"you became quiet all of a sudden. i'm not used to it."

summary: you had been working late, night after night for weeks now. you don't answer his calls, you give clearly rushed, short responses to his texts. you haven't even stopped by his studio in god knows how long. rafayel cant stand the lack of attention. can't stand being ignored. forgotten. abandoned. 

had the bond your two souls share lost all meaning to you? 

word count: 3,283 words

content warnings: angst with a happy ending. mentions/fear of abandonment. kissing and implied sex (if you wanna interpret it that way?) but no actual smut.

author's note: this is my first time writing a fic on tumblr! umm this is barely proofread because i'm sleepy asf so apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes, if i notice any i'll go back and edit them. but yeah, this was all mainly inspired by my own headcanons about rafayel's character and by the in-game dialogue below! please let me know what you think and maybe i'll write more in the future :)

tags: @m00nchildwrites @ghoulishnero <3 !!

heart dividers by @/cafekitsune!

the rain poured down like a waterfall, heavy raindrops hitting against your umbrella as you rushed to your apartment building. it was late at night, with the only thing illuminating the sidewalk at this hour being the flickering street lights and occasional blinding lightning from the storm. 

after sprinting your way through the rain, you finally made it safely inside your apartment building. trying to regain your composure you paused for a moment, breath heavy with sheer exhaustion as you closed your dripping umbrella.

you sluggishly began your way to the elevators, wet shoes squeaking along the floors and echoing throughout the quiet lobby. pressing the button to go up, you then stepped back and waited only a few seconds before the elevator doors opened in front of you. 

you were thankful that no one else was inside as you pressed your floor number and leaned against the cold wall, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh you didn't even know you had been holding in. you remained still, letting your mind and body rest, even for just a moment, before the ding of the elevator brought you back into your body. 

you stand up straight and make your way to your apartment door, fishing your keys out of your purse as you get closer. you turn the key in the knob and open the door, quickly ridding yourself of your shoes and almost throwing the rest of your things to the ground. you'll worry about that later.

but right now, you were so incredibly tired.

every muscle in your body ached after weeks of training and battling wanderers nonstop. your head was pounding, as if there was someone inside your head repeatedly beating against your skull. 

work had been pushing you especially hard lately, with a sudden increase in wanderer appearances causing hunters in various departments to be stationed around the city to protect citizens, and hopefully find a lead as to what triggered this influx in the first place. over the past month, you had been stationed in several different places around linkon, ordered to eliminate any potential threats to the area and investigate for any clues on what could be causing this.

and even when you weren't stationed out to be constantly battling wanderers, you were at headquarters sorting through mountains and mountains of paperwork. for hours on end, you would do nothing but read and catch up on previous investigations or potential leads that would explain the uptick in wanderers. 

and yet, you nor anyone else in your department had seemed to uncover anything.

and for the past few weeks, the stress, skipping meals, and losing sleep had finally begun to catch up to you. when you would eventually be let off work and allowed to go home, you completely shut down. even your closest friends hadn't heard from you in who knows how long. you were always too fatigued to do anything but sleep the moment you stepped through your front door.

even rafayel suffered as a result.

you'll admit, despite everything, you still tried your damn best to reply to his texts and answer his calls when you could. but the frequency of which you two communicated had still been heavily impacted. sometimes, the best you could manage was only a short reply, if only to let him know that you were still alive and breathing at the very least. you hadn't even had the energy (or the time) to pop by his house for a visit. 

realizing how bad things had gotten thanks to this increase of demands from work, how horribly you had been neglecting your physical and mental health, how badly you've been neglecting your friendships and relationship, you decided to finally reach out and request for some desperately needed time off. that's all you needed, was time.

some time to sleep in late and be able to wake up and have a calm, slow morning. some time to take a long, hot, relaxing bath to soak the stress and strain out of your poor muscles. some time to eat a big, filling, home cooked meal, a luxury you hadn't allowed yourself lately and instead opting for the convenience of take out meals or junk food snacks and sweets. 

you needed time to go over to rafayel's studio and profusely apologize for how distant you had been. 

with your thoughts circling back to rafayel yet again, you thought you should check your phone and see if he had sent you his usual stream of texts messages throughout the day. sprawled out across your bed, you slowly reach into your back pocket for your phone and check your notifications for the first time all day. 

among the usual system notifications and messages and calls from friends, there was only one person you cared about and were specifically looking for.

30+ unread texts and 10 missed calls just from rafayel alone. you could swear you felt your heart physically break into a million pieces inside your chest seeing the sweet, playful messages slowly turn despondent and sorrowful as the day went on.

goooood morning cutie ♡ i finished another painting last night, reddie thinks u should totallyyy come over later and check it out :P

i went out to the beach today and collected some seashells to make some new paints. i think the hues will be perfect for an old piece i was working on

the hermit crabs outside have begun asking where u've been lately :/ 

miss bodyguarddd where are uuu :( 

you're being quiet again today ... 

cutie??

*missed call*

*missed call*

*missed video call*

you stare at the screen for a while, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as guilt digs its claws into your heart. you feel like a horrible partner, with work straining you mentally and physically, you've barely had the time or energy to even talk to your own boyfriend? of all people?

you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts as your fingers begin tapping the screen. you're not even completely aware of what exactly you're saying, all you know is that you need to make it up to him.

you have to see him.

your body feels heavy like a sack of bricks, its past midnight, and the storm outside is only just starting to let up. but looking back at this past month, you realize how much you've pretty much neglected rafayel. barely replying to his texts, and if you do its something sent in a fatigued, half-functioning state. you haven't had the time to answer his calls, not wanting him to see you so disheveled and almost on the brink of passing out at work. you damn sure haven't been able to visit his studio with how busy work has kept you. 

mustering every last bit of strength in your body, you slowly make your way out of bed and into the shower. you need to at least wash off the day's stress from your body before heading over to his house. though it's nothing compared to soaking in a nice bath, the scalding hot water still does wonders for your body and you certainly feel more refreshed than before. 

you slip on some comfortable clothes, just some sweatpants and a hoodie, before putting your shoes on and grabbing your purse from where you left it when you first entered. locking the door behind you, you begin your journey to rafayel's home, on a mission. 

you check your phone again, every bone in your body hoping rafayel was even still awake and had replied to your text from before. usually he stays up late, either soaking in his bathtub or pulling an all-nighter on a painting project. so it's a little disheartening when you glance at your phone and see no new notifications from him. this doesn't deter you from your newfound mission, but it does plant a seed of worry that buries its roots deep within your chest.

the rain had thankfully seemed to have briefly paused by the time you arrive at your destination. you stand in front of the gate to mo art studio, that seed of worry already branching out and stretching through your entire body like a full grown tree.

still no text or call from rafayel.

you stand still, frozen in place by a heavy veil of doubt and ...

... fear?

will any amount of groveling and apologizing possibly fix what i've done? fix the pain i've caused him? 

you notice your breathing start to grow louder and faster and try your best to calm yourself back down. 

you were already here now. there's no going back.

you force yourself to push the gate open, stepping on the stone path towards the front door of his home. you stand there for another moment and decide to knock first.

*knock knock knock*

no answer.

*knock knock knock*

still no answer.

*knock knock knock knock knock knock*

silence.

taking a deep breath, you reach inside your purse and pull out the key rafayel had given you long ago when you two had first met. with shaky hands you insert the key, slowly and quietly letting yourself in. 

your eyes almost bulge right out of their sockets at the sight of what you had just walked into.

the living room was a complete mess, as if a hurricane had came and swept through the whole place. paint tubes lay scattered around, various colors leaking from them onto the floor in streaks. paint brushes look like they were thrown against the wall, all laid on the floor in a pile under a big splat of paint made on the wall. canvases, some big or small, some blank or with a few strokes of paints struck across them, lay on the ground in several pieces, as if a wanderer had came and ripped them to shreds. the entire place just look completely unkempt and almost abandoned. 

the only source of light allowing you to see anything was the glow of the moon shining through the open windows, faint wind blowing the loose sheer curtains inwards. 

"rafayel?" you whisper, unsure if he's even awake or here at all. 

you walk through the house, trying your best to remain quiet. as you continue on, you notice that it seems like some paint brushes and canvases and even parts of the walls have been burned? you reach your hand out to touch the scorched pieces, bits of ash and soot marking your fingers black.

this means rafayel was definitely here, but just what the hell happened?

you carefully step over and around all the mess, making your way through the home when you hear what you think is someone ... mumbling?

sounds like it's coming from his bedroom.

the door to his bedroom is slightly ajar, and before you make your presence known, you lean in and try to hear what's going on inside. 

"she's gone. she's never coming back, and it's all my fault."

you immediately recognize the voice, and it's as if your heart was just ripped out of your chest and ripped to shreds.

"was i too clingy? did she feel suffocated by me? did i take my teasing too far? god, i fucked it up again, i can't lose her ..."

you feel tears start to pool in your eyes again, only this time its impossible to stop them from falling. one after another, the more you hear him spew on about what he must have done to drive you away, the more the tears flow down your cheeks like rivers. 

in the midst of your breakdown, before you even realize, you instinctively let out a light sniffle. you were quiet, but the silence of the rest of the house only echoed the small sound even more. you heard what sounded like blankets shift before a small, weak voice spoke out.

"is someone there?" he mutters, his voice slightly shaky as if he had been crying as well.

you close your eyes and inhale, a sorry attempt to pull yourself together, knowing you had been caught. you slowly push the door open with a creak and reveal yourself to see rafayel, buried so deep under the covers that only his peeking head is visible. his hair is completely unkempt, as if he hasn't bothered to maintain it in who knows how long. as you slowly step closer you see his tear stained cheeks, the sight tugging at your heartstrings. 

he looks like a shell of the rafayel you've always known. the rafayel you've known always had a mischievous grin on his face, like he had a trick up his sleeve waiting for you. the rafayel you've known always had a certain light, or twinkle in his eyes that brought him to life. the rafayel you've known always carried himself in a somewhat carefree and lackadaisical manner that made him honestly quite the joy to be around.

the rafayel cocooned in bed in front of you has lost that playful grin. his eyes as dark as the deep sea, and his carefree attitude has been replaced by a thick air around him akin to mourning. 

you stand there, inches away from the bed, the two of you remaining in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

rafayel locked his eyes on you, a mixture of emotions evident in his eyes that he didn't even bother to try and hide. hurt, pain, disbelief, devotion. you could tell even he didn't know what exactly he was feeling right now. so you decided to take this moment of silence to speak first.

“rafayel i–”

you stopped, but your mouth remained opened, as if you were waiting for the rest of your words to load in your brain. and when they didn't, you could only find yourself beginning to sob yet again. your legs felt too weak to support you anymore, your entire body completely overcome with emotion as you sunk to the floor. you held your head in your hands as you simply let your tears flow like a faucet.

“rafayel i’m so sorry!” you began, shoulders rising and falling as you continued weeping.

“i got completely overwhelmed with work lately and everything has just been so stressful! i barely eat and i barely sleep anymore because work has kept me so busy and i’ve just been so tired every day!” you cry out, spilling your emotions out like a dam burst.

you paused for a quick moment just to catch your breath, the tears still not stopping.

“i’ve been wrapped up with work and haven't been able to be here for you and you have every right to be furious with me but please believe me rafayel, you’ve done nothing and could never do anything to ever make me hate you!” 

you’re practically yelling at this point, trying your best to sound as sincere and truthful as possible to get him to believe you. you just can't stand to see him like this, it pains you to see the one person you love the most in this world convinced so deeply that you’ve fallen out of love with him.

when that's the absolute farthest thing from the truth.

you both sit in a tense silence for a few moments, your words repeating over and over again in rafayel’s mind. minutes pass and your sobbing finally seems to be coming to an end as you wipe your eyes with your damp hoodie sleeves.

the sound of your sniffles and choked, shaky breaths are muffled by the sound of blankets shifting around on the bed from above. you look up and watch as rafayel joins you on the floor, sitting only an arm’s length in front of you. 

“do you still love me?” he whispers, so softly as if someone else could be listening in on you. 

“with all my heart, rafayel.” you respond without a second thought, looking him directly in his eyes. 

he takes a moment to gather his thoughts, looking off into the distance of the room as he then continues speaking.

“this past month, you became quiet all of a sudden. i’m not used to it. you stopped replying to my texts, stopped answering my calls. you wouldn't even come over to see me anymore. i thought i had done something wrong, that i must have hurt you. i really thought i had lost you, forever.”

his words grow softer and softer as he continues, almost fading out towards the end. he’s still unable to look you in the eyes as he attempts to put all of his racing thoughts into coherent sentences.

“i’m terrified of you losing you. of being abandoned by you.” he finally makes direct eye contact. “even the thought of it is enough to make me sick. when that terrifying thought seemed like it was becoming my reality, i lost control.” 

you remember the current state that his home and studio is in. the paint splattered all across the floors and walls, paintbrushes thrown across the room, scorched pieces of the walls from his fire evol. he really did lose himself, because he thought i had left him for good.

he grows quiet again, fading out the last part of his sentence, but you’re latched onto his every word like a man dying of thirst reaching for water. you hear every word that leaves his mouth, as much as it still pains you to hear. it hurts you to hear just how horrible he’d felt this entire time.

you slowly reach for his hand, giving him time to reject your touch if he wasn't ready. 

but he doesn't.

you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and feeling the warmth from his palm envelop yours. he looks at you, the numerous emotions displayed in his eyes slowly melting into one.

love.

“rafayel, you will never lose me. and i promise you that. i’m yours, in this lifetime and the next. forever.”

the two of you remain still, hands intertwined, eyes locked on one another. rafayel is the first to move.

he lets go of your hand, instead moving both of his to cup your face and watches as shock momentarily washes over your face. you swear you see a glimpse of that mischievous grin return to his face before he leans in and locks his lips on yours.

you’re briefly caught off guard, but you quickly come to your senses and return the kiss with everything you have in you. your hands find their way to his hair, gripping it tightly and earning the tiniest of moans from his mouth.

time seems to stop as the two of you bask in each other's embrace. you're the first to pull away, only for the sole reason of needing air to continue the kiss. 

as you breathe air back into your lungs, rafayel speaks, voice low and soft.

“tell me you love me.”

a small smile finds its way on your face, happy to do anything he asks for.

“i love you rafayel.” you say, planting a kiss on the mole under his eye.

you can tell that a light blush creeps its way onto his face, even in the dim moonlight that intrudes through his large bedroom windows.

“say it again.” he says, voice still low as a whisper.

“i love you rafayel.” you plant another kiss on the right on his nose, watching his blush intensify even more.

finally, he reconnects his lips with yours yet again, this time pulling you close into his lap, wanting to feel your body close and pressed up against his. 

and when he kisses you, he devotes the entire ocean to his beloved. 

[agender-wolfie]

This is my annual “thank you for making posts about Simon Riley because I didn’t have him or COD on my radar - or my dash 😞😞😩😩 - prior to coming across your tumblr and exploring what you had on it.” I didn’t know what I was missing and I never want to go backkkkkkk 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

Could I kindly ask you for any other thoughts you have regarding Simon and the rest of the 141?

Aww! Well thank you so much! ☺️ And yes. Once you’ve experienced Simon, you can never go back lmao

As for Simon and the rest of the 141, here are some little headcanons of mine for them

Simon: He absolutely gifts you the oddest things because they “reminded me of you” like he will find you rocks, little flowers growing in the sidewalk cracks, a dead bug, enamel pins, leaves, stickers, anything that’s your favorite color, etc. He will get all giddy inside on his way home with his treasures because he can’t wait to show them to you and see your reaction. He explodes internally when you express how much you love them and how thoughtful he is.

He just toes the ground with his hands in his pockets and keeps his head down while trying to hide his blush. “It’s nothing, love” But it’s most definitely not nothing when you give him the biggest bear hug and he reciprocates and melts into you.

Price: This man is a sucker for being pampered. He actually doesn’t even realize it until you come along. He was always used to taking care of others and being the “Big strong captain” that the thought of the same being done for him never entered his mind.

Then one day early in your relationship, he comes home tired as a dog and aching all over just to inhale the smell of a home cooked meal and hearing you humming in the kitchen. He walks up and hugs you from behind asking “ What’s all this, darling?” You then explain to him that you know he’s been working so hard and you wanted to take care of him the same way he takes care of you. You also let him know that you’ve made dessert and laid out some comfy clothes for after his shower. No, his eyes are not getting watery. You must’ve been cutting onions or something.

Soap: He loves how well you get along with his family. His Nan absolutely LOVES you and is constantly pestering him on when he’s gonna finally propose. All his little cousins flock to you at family gatherings as well and you’re friendly and personable with everyone, almost like you’ve known them for years.

He’s just so happy and proud that he’s found someone who meshes so well with the other loved ones in his life. His Nan is right. But that little box is going to stay in his underwear drawer for a little while longer until he finds the perfect moment to ask you to be his.

Gaz: He loves going for walks with you, doesn’t even matter where it is. But his favorites are parks, festivals and about town while you’re shopping or going out to eat.

He loves to show you things while on your walks like this cool leaf he found or the ducks in the pond. He will also show you cool things he finds while y’all are out shopping. Like a chandelier that looks like an octopus. (You both get it btw because duh. It’s an octopus chandelier) He just loves spending time with you and making memories that he holds near and dear to his heart.

[moonlit-escape]

. ☠︎︎.˖⚝๋࣭⭑ֶָ֢♱ Gene Mystreet headcanons !!

my third and final favourite mystreet character. oh how stupid i am. my 6th and far from final favourite myst character. he's so silly i need to beat his ass

5'7.4 (171.2cm)

hispanic

bisexual (it runs in the family. their mom is bi too)

scorpio ♏️

the eyebags aren't just bc he's has a god awful sleep schedule, they're actually hereditary (dante covers his with cucumbers and a skincare routine)

only speaks in spanish when he's losing his shit (arguing, panicking, tripped and scraped his knee on the sidewalk)

god can that boy dance

honestly just really loves cats

he went through a rough patch in uni and it sort of gave him a major wake up call as to just how he was doing and what kind of person he was and wanted to be

he, zenix, and sasha went their separate ways during uni, but tried to keep mostly in touch until eventually coming back together as roomies

god he would have just. the Worst depression meals. bro eats macaroni cheese dust in a glass with milk like it's a fucking nesquik packet. takes apart oreos and eats all the cream off, then puts pieces of ham in between them like theyre goddamn lunchable crackers. makes mayonnaise and jello sandwiches. takis and sweet relish. sasha and zenix have to make sure they come home on time and cook something before he puts whatever fucking concoction he makes into his body.

but he's actually a pretty damn good cook (when he's Not in a depressive episode)

learned to read fairly quickly, so he would always read dante to sleep

HARD gifted kid burnout like my man crashed and burned at 16

but now he's just a silly little nerd

favourite ninja turtle is donatello (mainly bc his fav color is purple)

he likes anime a lot, honestly. especially from 1990 to 2000s

plays mihoyo games. his mains are, respectively; cyno (genshin), jing yuan (hsr), and anton (zenless). This is a meta joke.

piercings,,, pirericngs,,,,, yesssss ,.

typa guy to use kaomoji and cat emoticons and send you cat videos off of youtube

the only social media he has is tumblr and reddit his punkass doesnt fw any other

he'd probably get a tattoo. maybe for his sweet girl, Apple, the poor thing

wants another cat, but he wants to give sasha and zenix no other choice but to let him take one in, so he's up Praying a stray will find him and follow him home

*opens his wallet and an entire roll of dante's baby pictures fall out* "UHM- UH- FWUH- I WAS HOLDING THESE FOR MY MOM-" dante, travis, and aph tear up on the spot

carries an epipen on his person at all times in case of emergencies. it was something he did growing up with dante, just in case the kid had something with peanuts, and it just kinda followed him into adulthood

was never that mean to travis, since he was dante's best friend, but he was never careful around him either, so

him and garroth actually end up being great friends who just spend most of their conversations gushing about mutual interests (their baby brothers, cats, video games) or sassing each other off

no wait bc why would his taste in men absolutely be himbos. (or at least just very sweet, kind-hearted people)

he calls people by specific little terms of endearment, depending on the type of response. that doesnt make sense. let me elaborate.

uses "babe" or "honey" when someone is in distress or upset ("oh, honey,,")

uses "bucko" or "buddy" when someone mouths off at him ("oookay there, buddy." "alright then, bucko.")

you get it now

the type of friend that is Always ready to back you up on your bullshit. absolutely no hesitation

he really didn't have a crush on aph, he was just a Grade A Asshole who thought it was fun to fuck with people

because he was viciously jealous of people who were capable of being happy and having good lives

not that he had a particularly awful, hard life. sure, his family had their struggles, but they were getting by. yes, he has felt like there was something deeply wrong with him that has been present within himself since even before he was born that made most people avoid him like he was on a secret list. but it was fine

he just knew that he had a sick feeling in him, and the only way he'd feel anything else was if he was a mean little asshole

some nights, it did scare him. it frightened him how bitter his tongue always tasted

and all of the time, constantly, buried beneath the feelings of hate, he felt guilt. he felt so, so much guilt. but, his only coping mechanism for when he's feeling bad is to do more bad things, and pretend he's always in the right

and, eventually, he broke. he broke down hard. now, since he's seen that his first plan to get rid of this feeling of skin-deep sin has failed, he's decided to try the other way. to atone

[happypedrohours]

Choose 1, or 2 or 3 (or all of them) from the following lists and send them to fellow Happy Pedro Hours partakers to get to know them better and to have a good laugh!! (We kindly remind you of the Tumblr etiquette back in the day which is that if you receive an ask, it's customary to send one back to the person so they get to answer one (or two or three) themselves)

Don't forget to tag all your replies #happypedrohours !!

Would you rather list

Have mint ice cream or chocolate gelato

Have blackberry sherbet or lemon popsicle

Drink Coca Cola or Pepsi

Eat a pizza with mushroom or pineapple on it

Spend one day in a spaceship or one day on an icebreaker

Visit Mars or Saturn?

Live in a little cottage surrounded by frog pond or fields of horses?

Road trip through the US or Australia?

Spend a day wearing no make up or wearing too small shoes?

Learn how to make sushi or noodles?

Eat a hamburger dipped in chocolate or fries dipped in fluff?

Hike an active volcano or a rainforest during a storm?

Cuddle a bear cub or a litter of baby squirrels?

Go on the Orient Express or trek to Victoria Falls?

Sleep under the stars by a swamp or in a hammock hanging from a cliff?

Have universal respect or unlimited power?

Swim in a pool full of Nutella or a pool full of maple syrup?

Spend a week in the forest or a night in a real haunted house?

Always have to tell the truth or always have to lie?

Run your tongue down a NYC sidewalk or press your tongue into a stranger's nostril?

Be in the real-life version of "The Walking Dead" or "American Horror Story"?

Have the hiccups for the rest of your life or always feel like you're about to sneeze but can't?

Use sandpaper as toilet paper or hot sauce as eye drops?

Be sticky for the rest of your life or be itchy for the rest of your life?

Pedro Boys edition

Would would win in a hand-to-hand fight? Dave York or Din Djarin?

Who's the better parents? Din Djarin or Mrs Flores?

Who would win the race? Frankie Morales or Din Djarin (Razor Crest edition, no space jump allowed)

Who would win in a fight? Oberyn Martell or Marcus Moreno?

Who the better cuddler during wintertime? Javi G or Marcus P?

Who's the grumpiest when they show up at their surprise birthday party? Joel or Javi P?

Who has more fashion sense? Javi G or Oberyn Martell?

Who has the best aim with a gun? Joel or Dave York?

Who has the scariest intimidating scowl? Javi P or Joel?

Who is better at reading bedtime stories? Din or Marcus Moreno?

Who’s the best movie night buddy? Dieter or Javi G?

Who’s the best at barbecuing? Frankie or Joel?

Who would win in a eating contest? Marcus P or Max Philips?

Get to know you list

If you could go back to any time period, where would you like to go and why?

What's your favorite color and the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of it?

If you could be transported in any fictional universe, where would you go?

What's a song that reminds you of your favorite season?

Do you read books and if yes, what's your favorite genre?

Do you cook and what's your favorite dish to make?

What's the one place in the world you have always dreamed of visiting?

What is the first concert you attended to?

What did you want to be when you were small?

What’s your favorite swear word (in any language) and why?

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

What was/is your favorite subject in school?

If you could only wear one color for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?

Who was your first celebrity crush?

What’s a weird smell that you really enjoy?

Do you have a favorite kind of flower?

Which meal is your favorite: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Do you collect anything?

What color is your toothbrush?

What's your favorite summer activity?

What's the strangest thing you've ever eaten?

What's the sexiest animal?

What is the worst job you could have?

If you could paint anything, what would you paint?

Who is your favorite cartoon character?

Who's your favorite superhero and why?

Either or

Museum or carnival?

Horror movie or romcom?

Tea or coffee?

Friends or How I Met Your Mother?

Cat or dog?

Left side or right side of the bed?

Bath or shower?

Paintings or sculptures?

Summertime or wintertime?

Hugs or kisses?

Apple juice or orange juice?

Unicorn or mermaid?

Apple or Android?

Netflix or Disney+?

Instagram or TikTok?

Cereal or toast?

Burger or tacos?

Dinosaurs or dragons?

Greek mythology or Egyption mythology?

New York City or Los Angeles?

Crossword puzzles or jigsaw puzzle?

[obsidianpen]

Discord vs tumblr is so funny bc I barely even realized there were issues cause I only read your responses. You’re real as fuck though basically telling us to put our thinking caps on. First read I was like wtf just happened how long has hermione been playing curly haired repunzel. But then I read it again and was like ok this makes sense. Idk if it’s just me (and i don’t even prefer one over the other I think they are both masterpieces) but I have reread NG like 15 times first to last page no problem in two days but i have never fully reread b&g and it takes me forever to read multiple chapters. Ik there are a lot of hidden things in NG too but jesus fucking Christ girl, you are literally a genius with every single word of b&g.

I hope your pillow is always cold, I hope you never step on your sons toys, I hope your husband does the dishes, I hope you constantly find dollars on the sidewalk, I hope you have the best meals everyday. IN AWE OF EVERYTHING YOU WRITE. Also side note idk if it was predicting the future but I randomly clicked on a harrymort fic yesterday where Tom gives Harry amemortia (I’m too lazy to care how it’s actually spelled) for fun time and then Harry gets addicted and then when he comes off it he can no longer love Tom without it because the potion like diluted his actual feelings and I rlly rlly hope that isn’t what happens here.

🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 thank you!! And no that’s not how it’s working in B&G but that sounds super interesting!

[toadifylackoffantasy]

Chapter 40.1: A Turbulent July

Part 15/19

CW: Clear references to ED

In the few weeks since their previous attempt the tide had turned: there was another manager, and this one would love for Fiery Flo to perform. So Florian did some tricks on the sidewalk outside out of pure joy, they had felt amazing for more than a week by now and felt like they owned the world.

Flo even ate Finn's new specialty a couple days later without any force from him.

“Be careful not to drip any water on my spring rolls,” they said before taking another bite of food that was not salad or chicken.

"It's hot, the cold setting in the jacuzzi is stellar… Aren't you hot in that outfit?"

"Nope, a little chilly even."

“I’m so glad you just eat. My spring rolls are the second best gold-colored thing in the house!"

"Ofc am Eatfing," they mumbled, as if it were the most normal thing for them to eat three full physical meals a day.

"And your show later!"

"Yup, my show tonight," Florian repeated with their mouth empty now, yet oddly quiet.

Full Chapter weebly (More NSFW)

Tumblr Chapter-posts

[melodic-haze]

(🎀) HELLO. HI. THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT ASK. i come bearing The List™ since i’m still [very] determined to take rayne - the og simp anon - down, and their ask was definitely a cute try - adorable even, but i’ve come here to win your heart, haze. not to play simple children’s games, so, here are 50 concrete reasons as to why i should be your sole & only wife <3

(+ apparently there are ppl following along on this … very strange love saga? hope u guys consider rooting for my side - i’m very committed to my dear haze <3.)

1. i was ur first ever ask, but before that i kept on lurking on ur account since i was too shy to say anything but every time i opened tumblr i checked ur account first, because i genuinely thought your writing was just lovely but i couldn’t find the words to say it </3 i thought of you as beautiful before i had even come to understand you

2. i’d make homemade meals made just for you + i’d satisfy any and all of your cravings

3. i’m mixed filipino, japanese, AND italian, so that’s how yk the food i can cook is good 🤗

4. i’d buy you flowers whenever, just because <3

5. on every birthday & date anniversary i’d spoil you with any and all the gifts (both handmade and bought) you’d ever want just to make your day extra special

6. i’d bake sweet treats for you every week, along w/ cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner tailored to your likings. bc only the best for you, love 😓😓

7. i’ll write love poems dedicated to you so you’ll know what it is like to be loved by another writer who can see your the beauty of your own language the same way you show your love

8. i’ll take out on beach dates…bookstore dates…photobooth dates…movie dates….anywhere you’d want to go i’ll take you there

9. i’ll write a single love letter to you for each day we’re together and happily married and gift them all to you so you’ll never forget just how much deep my love is for you

10. i’d marry you with paper rings!!

11. my focus in writing / literature in general is poetry and i could write a thousand poems on the beauty of you, your soul, and how gorgeous of a person you already are <3

12. plus i’m the same age as u so…no worrying cases there HAHSHSSJ 😭😭

13. i play the harp + the violin - arguably 2 of the most romantic instruments out there

14. you’d never need to worry about losing a 50/50 again since i’ll fund ALL your gacha game pulls - any character you want you'll have

15. i’d accept that i’d always be #2 to robin, bc. let’s face it. it’s robin, it’s universally impossible to /not/ love her 🫶

16. not only would i be a built-in wife, since i’m [also] a writer, i can be your built-in beta for proofreading and editing advice too

17. i’d drive you anywhere you wanted - passenger princess ofc :) <3

18. you are my eternity, haze. all i’ve been thinking about for the weeks upon end was you. my universe. my other half. the soul of my life, in every way possible, i’d want to love you so intimately; tenderly, slowly, the type of love that feels like the feather-tip press of a kiss to your temple. i’d worship the ground you walked upon if it only meant that the life i would have with you wouldn’t just be a dream. you make this world brighter; something worth living in. i forgave the cruelty the world let run rampant, the day i cast my gaze on you

19. i’d make playlists for every moment we shared together

20. forehead kisses…<3

21. even through death, i would still love you. endlessly. until the end of this universe. the beauty of love will forever transcend the passage of time

22. i’d serenade you with a bridgerton-esque rendition on the violin of lover by taylor swift. or any love song in general, i’d play whatever you wanted as long as it meant i got to fall in love with your soul all over again

23. rain kisses!!! i’d take you out to the sidewalk and pull you into dancing with me under the sheen of the rain <3

24. i’d grow a garden full of your favorite flowers just for you, and on every anniversary i’d hand-pick a bouquet myself because you deserve to be loved the same way it is, to be known

25. i’d take you to late night drives on the beach and i’d just be content watching you in the glow of the sunset, as the waves lap all around us, and for a moment; it’d feel like time itself had stopped in the presence of your beauty.

26. i’d write hand-written notes to leave at your nightstand each morning with tiny gifts (chocolates, handmade jewelry etc)

27. i’d dedicate every love song to ever exist to you <3

28. i’d constantly give out ‘i love you’s’ & reassurance

29. i once believed that my love would forever be burning red, but now that i’ve met you, it’s golden. like the first searing hues of daylight 🙏

30. if you are what you love, then i would spend all of my life writing literature on you. you deserve to be loved gently. even if the divine frowned down on us for our love i’d gladly look back from hell if that meant i could see your face one last time

31. on each birthday of yours, i would write the same amount of poems the age you would be turning, and all of them would be about how i’ve loved you through the years

32. i hope to be able to love you one day and realize that my heart is filled with the idea of you that i’d want nothing more than to be able to call you mine

33. i’d carve our initials on the sand on the beach just so the soil of the earth and the beginnings of all the life that stood before us knew what exactly it meant, when you loved somebody to the point of creation

34. if you wanted to go anywhere in the world - especially abroad - i’d take you. you deserve nothing more than what your heart desires and i’d always make sure to see that your wishes will be fulfilled so you will never have to wonder what it is like to be kept waiting

35. we’d go on aquarium dates!!! 🫶🫶

36. i’d make sure to hold your hand in every life and in every universe

37. we’d spend lazy days in our house just cuddling & watching sitcoms for as long as we’d want!!

38. haze…it’s no use haze. haze, we've got to have it out. i have loved you ever since i have known you haze. i couldn't help it. and - and i tried to show you and you wouldn't let me which is fine but i must make you hear now. give me an answer because i cannot go on like this any longer. i’ve worked hard to please you, and I gave up billiards and everything you didn’t like, and waited and never complained for i hoped you’d love me, though I’m not half good enough — i can’t love anyone else! …if you loved me haze, i would be a perfect saint.

39. kisses all over your face!!! i’d want the entire world to know how much ily and i’d never be afraid to hide it

40. i’d learn everything you have ever loved or enjoyed; whatever it is that makes your heart burst with joy, and memorize it to utmost perfection just so you could have somebody else to understand how it is that you want to be loved

41. i’d build a house for you, brick by brick. any way you wanted or any way you wanted to build a life together, i’d make sure to see fit to it

42. daily coffee dates!!!

43. i’d want nothing more than to just /be/ with you. to exist just knowing you are here and that i am full of the love i hope to give, would be enough for me already.

44. haze….I LOVE YOU!!!! i will stand with you between the heavens and the earth. from the moment i first saw your writing appear on the sub arlecchino tag, i have loved you desperately. i cannot breathe when you are not near. i love you, haze. my heart calls your name. i burn for you.

45. we could match everything!! matching bracelets <3 matching rings <3 matching jewelry in general <33 and trust, it would all either be hand-crafted or the most expensive things you could ever want bc i only want the best for you darling

46. i’d always have the idea of you on my mind. i don’t think anything - not even the divine forces could keep me away from knowing how much i adore you

47. baking with you!! i’d teach you all of my favorite recipes and we could bake together :) we’d make heart shaped cookies and red velvet muffins

48. WE COULD ADOPT PETS TOGETHER!!! cat moms!!! or dogs!! or any animal in general!! i’d want nothing more in life than to just spend it with you <3

49. my first novel would be about you. i’d write countless - thousands - of poems for you, haze. i’d write a collection of all the love i harbor for you in any way conceivable. you are perfection personified - a living muse - it is you i want, haze. it is only you who i would always want.

50. lastly, i’d ALSO suck on your tits any time u wanted :)

so? what do you think? how’d i do, sweetheart? :) if you ever have an answer for me, i’ll be waiting for as long as you’ll have me <3

(btw just for…clarification pls do /not/ take this way too seriously 😭😭. i am just a very over the top (hopefully will be) eng lit major who js wants to win over ur heart <3.)

FIFTY FUCKING REASONS WHAT THR FUCK YOU ACTUALLY WROTE IT OUT I saw this a lot earlier than just now but I had to coordinate backing vox lines for my band's next gig

Anyway the way I genuinely JUMPED when I saw this LIKE FUCKING HELLO......IF ANYTHING THIS IS WHAT DEDICATION LOOKS LIKE GUYS TAKE NOTES oh babe I could KISS YOU

AND THE TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCES❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️I'M SORRY RAYNE.........

I find the lit and performance majors tend to be the ones who do this and take the entire mile which makes a lot of sense actually

In summary I am FLOORED I fear. And absolutely swooning oh my goodness 😩 AND THE AGE POINT HAHAHAHA THE MOST IMPORTANT THING OF THEM ALL 😭😭😭😭😭 IT TOOK ME OUT like how I'd let you take me out for dinner ;)))

[powerful-niya]

— (вσn αppètít.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚hαppч nαruhínα mσnth єvєrчσnє!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙳𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 + 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎 (𝙽𝙷𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝟸𝟹)

Link to Oneshot below ↴

Wattpad | AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡Naruto arrives home from a long day at work to a nice five-star meal, juicy and succulent, all for him. 

And no, his main course had nothing to do with food in the slightest.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Ahegao Kink • Anal Play • Anilingus • Body Worship • Butt Fetish • Butt Flap Pajamas • Business AU • Creampie • Cock Worship • Cunnilingus • Dirty Talk • Dom/Sub • Domesticity •  Double Penetration • Dressing-up • Erotic  • Explicit Pajamas • Fall • Fall Theme • Freaky • Free Use Kink • Husband/Wife • Intimacy • Kinky • Kitchen Sex • Marriage • Messy • Modern AU • Multiple Orgasms • Naughty Dinner • Naughty Surprise • NHmonth • Nhmonth23 • No Panties • NSFW • Onesie • Oral Sex • Overstimulation • Praise Kink • Rimming • Roleplay • Spanking • Squirting • Surprise • Table Sex • Twerking • Unprotected Sex • Vaginal Sex • 2023 

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚11.8k.

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚6.5k.

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Transitioning from the vibrant greens of summer to the warm, earthy tones of reds and yellows in autumn provided a vibrant setting for his journey. As he walked, a weariness from the day's events and a building sense of eager anticipation converged within him.

Wearily, Naruto strolled along the leaf-strewn sidewalk as the autumn sun began its gradual descent, casting a gentle, golden hue over the vibrant foliage that adorned Tokyo's streets.

His destination? 

Home, where he knew a special someone was eagerly awaiting his return. 

His beautiful wife, Hinata Uzumaki. 

All day long, Hinata has dominated his thoughts, offering him the strength to endure the demands of his job. 

And now, with determination, he was taking steps toward reuniting with her, once again. 

Naruto let out a tiresome sigh. 

But he couldn't deny how fucking exhausted he was. 

His broad shoulders sagged, breath labored, and his mind cloudy, still ensnared by the remnants of his hectic workday.

His blonde, tousled locks swayed to and fro with each step, brushing against his sweat-drenched forehead. His grip on his briefcase handle was firm, causing it to sway in tandem with his stride.

Another weary sigh escaped the lips of the blonde man, which was merely carried away by the gentle afternoon breeze.

Days like this felt like a maelstrom to Naruto, an unending cyclone of chaos and stress, constantly churning him in its turbulent grasp.

From the first blink of dawn, Naruto's day unfurls like a tightly wound coil, each moment springing forth with urgency and pressure. It's as if he's thrust onto a speeding train, hurtling through a terrain of tasks and deadlines.

His days are always the same, continuously following a consistent pattern.

His schedule was just like this: 

Naruto experiences, every morning, the dissatisfaction of being woken up by the morning light piercing through his curtains, casting long, probing shadows in his bedroom.

Furthermore, he's jolted twice, next by the jarring ring of his alarm clock breaking the silence, signaling the onset of a new day. It's always a rude awakening for him to be so violently pulled from his peaceful sleep, wrapped in the warm sheets of his bed, and cocooned in the loving embrace of his wife, Hinata.

His bed, combined with the soft, welcoming embrace of his wife's arms, always exerts an irresistible pull, tempting him to stay just a bit longer. 

With reluctance, however, Naruto always faces the difficult decision, a big boy decision to tear himself away, knowing that his responsibilities await as he begins another workday. But even so, the warmth of his wife's presence, the affectionate cuddles, kisses, and intimate moments they share during their precious nights always linger, serving as a bittersweet reminder of the comfort he must leave behind.

Day after day, the blonde forces himself out of bed, showers, dresses in his typical formal attire, collects his paperwork to stow in his briefcase, all while trying not to disturb his peacefully sleeping wife. In those moments, she appears serenely beautiful in her most natural state, exhausted from maintaining the house while he's away. 

Unable to resist, Naruto finds himself compelled in the routine of leaning in and placing tender kisses on her forehead, whispering, "I'll be back, hime" or "have a good day, my love" before quietly departing.

But, there were times when his days were…

fortunate. 

During those times, his wife naturally wakes, catching him in the midst of his bustling mornings, gracing him with her presence. 

Whenever she wakes up from her slumber just as he's getting ready for work, Naruto always gets a strong feeling that it's going to be a great day for him.

Hinata was undeniably the sunshine of his morning, and honestly, his entire day.

Typically, on these fortunate days, as Hinata is awake, she offers him a drowsy but much-needed greeting, prepares a small yet delectable breakfast for him to kickstart his day. 

She even at times shares a cup of coffee with him, and lastly grants him a swift yet tender moment as he savors the indulgence of kissing her farewell—a promise of their reunion at day's end.

Afterward, he's off.

Unfortunately, though, the daily commute to his workplace frequently saps the small semblance of morning joy he might have felt, given that it (more often than not) turns into a consistently chaotic river of congestion. 

Ah, of course! 

There's nothing quite like navigating the bustling streets of densely populated Tokyo in the mornings. Good kami, that was one of the city's downsides. 

The traffic. 

The fucking traffic was a nightmare. 

Naruto shuddered upon the recollection. 

Nothing but horns blare, and engines roar—a dissonant symphony that truly works Naruto's nerves. It's a constant struggle to navigate through the traffic, aiming to reach work on time without succumbing to road rage.

But arriving at his workplace isn't even better. Not in the least. 

Once settled in the privacy of his office, behind his desk, the immediate demands of his job loom large. It's a realm of tasks and impatient adults that can at times make him want to pull his hair out. 

The routine of paperwork, the ceaseless hum of computers, and the unending flood of emails threaten to overwhelm him. 

The words of the digital realm and the physical one blend together, a swirling storm of information and requests. It's an uphill battle to keep pace, to remain afloat amid the torrent of rapid communication. 

Hours rush by in a whirlwind, meetings and memos blurring together like gusts of wind threatening to throw Naruto off balance. It's an unyielding onslaught, which always leaves him feeling weathered and drained.

The minutes slip away like sand through his fingers, each one a missed chance for respite.

Anticipation for his lunch breaks is a constant for him. 

It's during these cherished moments that he rediscovers happiness, unwrapping the perfectly packed bento boxes prepared with love by his wife. Each box is a treasure trove of deliciousness, neatly arranged in plastic rectangular containers that never fail to elicit envy from his coworkers by just a whiff.

Typically, Hinata dedicates her evenings to preparing these culinary delights for him, meticulously packaging them in the refrigerator for his quick morning grab-and-go's. His lunches often feature an array of delights, from bento boxes to poke bowls, housing an assortment of delightful medley of flavors.

In Hinata's customary arrangement, she would usually assemble a composition of protein over a bed of carbohydrates, encircled by an array of vegetables, creating a delectable mound of sustenance for him. 

Typically, she'd whip up a selection of his preferred dishes: miso ramen or udon noodles, onigiri, yakitori, tamagoyaki, gyozas, nikujaga, sushi, tempura, and an assortment of other delectable creations born from his wife's imaginative culinary mind.

His lunches were always a harmonious burst of colors, arranged with such precision that Naruto occasionally finds himself compelled to pause and simply marvel at the painstakingly crafted meal in all its splendor. 

His lunches always possess an exquisite beauty, as if fashioned by celestial hands, devoid of any imperfection in both appearance and, of course, taste.

Such dishes practically exclaim "Bon Appétit" by their sheer visual allure alone. 

And oh, how he relishes each and every bite.

During that time, Naruto demands that no one bothers him, no one enters his office, no one emails him, no one fucking speaks to him. 

During those moments, the only things that truly matter are his wife's cooking and the act of filling his empty stomach.

Naruto revels in those moments, devouring his lunches with gusto, regularly exclaiming "Itadakimasu" so loudly in gratitude for his beloved wife's cooking that his coworkers can hear him even behind the closed door of his office. 

He kicks his feet and playfully wiggles his toes under his desk, letting out contented sighs, and on occasion, even experiences a slight burn of the tongue from hastily devouring all of the piping hot dishes. 

Yet, none of it wipes the happy smile from his face.

These instances are precious, a time when the chaotic world fades away, and Naruto is reminded of the warmth and love he carries from home, all packed neatly within the plastic containers of his bento lunches.

However, once his lunch is devoured, and his bento box is empty, it serves as a stark reminder that it's time to return to work. 

It's such a pain…

Yet, Naruto perseveres, propelled by the knowledge that each passing hour brought him one step closer to the evening, where he could return to his loving wife, leaving the day's chaos far behind.

His thoughts are always consumed by one person and that is his beloved wife, Hinata. 

She occupies his mind every waking moment, the culprit that is responsible for his constant drive and motivation, the entirety of her presence an embodiment of joy. 

The depth of Naruto's affection for her is palpable, evoking a flutter of butterflies in his stomach with recalling any memory of her, be it her smile, her laughter, or the touch of her lips against his own.

Naruto's love for Hinata is boundless, to the extent that he often yearns to just stay home, to never depart from her in order to escape the monotonous routine of paperwork and social engagements.

However, if he were to do that, it wouldn't be very responsible of him. 

As the provider and head of his household, Naruto has a crucial obligation: to work diligently and secure the resources needed to ensure his partner's happiness and contentment. Therefore, he faces the trials of rising early each day and putting in long, tireless hours to earn necessary income.

This is precisely why he eagerly anticipates these exact moments, day after day, without fail: the end of his work shifts, and being back at home. 

Due to his excitement, Naruto's steps quickened along the sidewalk with the promise of home just down the end of it, his leather briefcase swinging rhythmically at his side, occasionally bumping against his formal slacks. 

His pace was brisk and determined, his oxfords clicking against the stone steps, his legs kicking through bundles of colorful leaves, as he advanced with a lively pep in his step. 

He even let out cheerful whistles.

There was no doubt about it–he was eagerly looking forward to reuniting with his wife.

Usually, as he steps though the threshold of his home, he's greeted with a warm welcome from Hinata, a loving hug, and a hot plate of food to fill his empty belly. 

Yesterday evening, he was surprised to be met with a tantalizing aroma wafting through the air of his home, as soon as he stepped inside. Only to later be surprised to find that Hinata had prepared a special Japanese dish for his dinner, a beautifully presented bowl of Pork Teriyaki Donburi. 

Naruto still remembers that dish, (even now), given how goddamn good it was. 

Such a dish was a masterpiece in the blonde's eyes—tender grilled pork chops, glazed with sweet teriyaki sauce, atop fluffy Japanese rice. On top of that, the dish was adorned with scallions, sesame seeds, and a medley of colorful, fresh vegetables. 

Each bite was a revelation: juicy, flavorful pork; saucy, balanced rice. The crunch of vegetables complemented the savory meat, taking him to another world. It was a symphony of flavors that captivated Naruto. 

The care and love in every bite made it an unforgettable meal for him.

Now, Naruto can't help but wonder what he'll be eating today. 

His stomach growled on cue. 

It's these indulgences that constantly make him thank kami that he has someone to return home to, particularly someone like Hinata. 

Without fail or hesitation, she tends to all of his needs, whether it's his hunger with her delectable cooking, the tension in his shoulders that she skillfully massages away, or even his manly urges, allowing him to unwind in a more intimate manner.

Indeed, he was in the mood for a nice, hot meal or perhaps something a bit spicier to conclude his evening on a high note.

A mischievous smirk graced Naruto's lips as he at last reached the entrance of his very own humble abode. Following the stone path, he was led up to a wooden porch that encircled the front of the house, cradled within the embrace of the surrounding trees. 

The sight before him was a true idyll, a snug little house that embodied serenity and peace for him.

His home was his safe haven. A sumptuous delight.

There, before Naruto, stood the two-story house he shared with his wife, its structure emanating a serene elegance that seamlessly blended with the autumnal hues of the dusky natural surroundings.

Smooth, warm-toned wood formed the walls, intricately designed. Sliding paper doors adorned the front, showcasing delicate patterns in various shades of brown, offering glimpses into the serene interior.

The roof, elegantly curved and topped with wooden shingles, gently descended to form a sheltering canopy over the structure. 

Traditional lanterns graced the exterior, suspended from the porch ceilings, their gentle illumination casting a warm radiance during the evening hours.

A meticulously tended garden framed the entrance, featuring carefully pruned bonsai trees and lively blossoming plants, all thanks to his wife's passion for gardening. Hinata's diligent care infused the surroundings with a touch of natural splendor, enhancing the overall beauty of their home.

Naruto looked up at the house with admiration, his gaze following the elegant lines of the eaves and the graceful arch of the roof. It was a truly remarkable sight, showcasing the skill and artistry of Japanese architecture. The house exuded a peaceful aura, inviting anyone who approached to enter a realm of love and serenity. 

Finally standing before it, Naruto was overcome with a wave of gratitude and contentment. 

This was their home, a sanctuary where he and his wife could forge a life filled with love and treasured moments. 

A place where they can build a family together.

Grinning, Naruto finally took the necessary steps to advance, eager to step through the threshold and immerse himself in the welcoming embrace that awaited him.

Without delay, Naruto took hold of the front sliding door, or more accurately, the fusuma door, swiftly initiating its opening to step inside his home. As he slid the front door of his home open, the burden of his responsibilities and the pressures of adulthood seemed to dissipate altogether, replaced by a growing sense of excitement.

Stepping into the welcoming warmth of his home, the familiar scent of the space enveloped him, instantly easing his mind. 

The gentle, warm illumination from the lighting fixtures bathed the area in a soothing glow, conjuring an atmosphere that felt like heaven, beckoning him to venture further inside and desert the outside world. 

"Hinata-hime, I'm home!" 

Without hesitation, Naruto called out to his beloved with a voice that bore a blend of weariness and anticipation. He yearned for Hinata to be aware of his return, to experience the joy of him being back home and in her company once more. It was a cherished routine, this moment of calling out to announce his arrival and reuniting with her.

The blonde man always found himself eagerly anticipating these very moments, where he'd step through their doorway and find himself welcomed by the presence of his wife. 

Naruto could vividly picture Hinata's smile, the soft arc of her lips that never failed to brighten his mood. 

He could almost foresee her launching herself at him, eager to wrap her arms around his terribly weary body. The thought of her waiting for him, her presence filling the space with warmth and affection, was something that never failed to fill his heart with a rush of gratefulness.

However, his smile faltered as his call was met with a haunting silence that seemed to permeate every corner of the house like an deadly chill. In an instant, his heart sank, replaced by a gnawing worry at the absence of his wife's familiar response to his usual greeting. 

Furrowing his brow, he proceeded deeper into their home, not before taking a moment to carefully shift the front door closed behind him.

Naruto turned back around, determined to explore further.

He called out to Hinata again.

"Hey, Hinata-hime! I'm back!" 

Silence. 

Yet again. 

Naruto's nose wrinkled, the scent of Hinata's favorite vanilla candles lingering in the air. 

His ears strained, eager to catch any familiar sounds within the house. He longed to hear the usual clinks of utensils in the kitchen, the soft sizzle of the stove, or the gentle rustle of fabric as Hinata moved about in her adorable socks.

But nothing.

Naruto heard nothing.

He wrinkled his brows, 'What the hell is going on-?' 

But just as he thought that, he suddenly heard a sudden shuffle within the diner area of the home, a confirmation of other life within the quiet space. 

"In here, my love!" 

Naruto's ears perked up.

And there it was, precisely what he had been seeking.

His wife's voice. 

Hinata.

Her melodious voice exuded tenderness and warmth, instantly alleviating the concerns he felt earlier. Hinata's angelic voice held a soothing rhythm as it echoed through the entire house, a harmonious familiarity that resided deep within him.

And in that instant, the world around the blonde seemed to blur, leaving only the enchanting allure of his wife's voice, guiding him toward its source.

The dining room. 

A smirk slid across his whiskered face before he took a step forward, but he didn't do so, not without kicking off his formal shoes and placing them on the shoe rack beside the entrance door.

Naruto bit his lip.

"Alright, hime, I'm coming." 

"Hurry, my love!" 

A chuckle escaped his lips as he sensed the enthusiasm in his wife's tone, a rather peculiar detail that piqued his interest. He clutched his briefcase firmly and began to venture across the hardwood floor, each step echoing as he went.

"Alright, alright, I'm hurrying." Naruto exclaimed with another chuckle, rocking his briefcase through the air, back and forth by his side.

"What's got you so excited, hm, Hinata-hime?" 

Naruto raised his voice, calling out in an attempt to reach his wife from a distance.

However, as he inched closer to the dining room, he couldn't ignore the fact that Hinata's voice gradually intensified, solidifying his suspicion that she was, in fact, situated in the area he had assumed earlier: the dining room of the house.

"Oh Naruto-kun, I've got a surprise treat just for you!"

"Oh? A surprise treat, eh?" Naruto retorted in amusement, and instantly, his thoughts veered towards food—or rather, a succulent, piping-hot meal of his utmost liking to devour.

'Mmm, it's gotta be ramen'. Naruto's thoughts were consumed by hunger, distorted by it, and on cue, his stomach let forth a growl.

"Mmm, that sounds delightful, hime," He murmured incoherently, as if in a trance brought on by none other than starvation. Gently, he gave his empty belly a rub, doing so with his free hand.

And on that note, Naruto's speed increased. 

In a matter of seconds, Naruto closed the remaining distance to the sliding entrance of the dining room with eagerness, now mere inches from where his wife was waiting.

Naruto smirked. 

He didn't wait. 

He instead, reached his free hand forth to grab the handle of the door tight, and without a second thought, he swung it open. 

"Does my surprise happen to be food, Hinata-hi-?" 

His words were almost instantly silenced, caught in his throat, as he laid eyes on his wife upon returning home for the first time. 

However, what he witnessed, what Hinata had hinted at earlier, was certainly not what he had expected.

Yes, a treat was certainly presented in front of him, but such a treat certainty didn't have anything to do with food.

No.

Not in the slightest. 

This was a different type of treat. A treat that no doubt caused his interests to pique skyhigh. 

"Well, well. Now what do we have here, hm?" Naruto's inquiry escaped his lips mischievously as he approached his wife in the dining room. The table was surprisingly bare, void of any food, but instead, Hinata herself occupied the space. 

A sight he was certainly not expecting.

She was perched on the dining table, near the far end, closest to the room's entrance, or more specifically, facing where Naruto currently stood. Hinata sat on the table as if it were a chair, her legs playfully but adorably swinging back and forth off the edge, her focus directed entirely on him.

She playfully waved, giggling, "Konbanwa, Naruto-kun."

"Konbanwa, Hinata-hime." Naruto replied with a charming smirk, watching her as she gracefully hopped off the table and landed on the floor with a soft thud. However, her movement drew notice to the cute white socks she had on, which served as soft padding with her steps.

In a hurried motion, Naruto's eyes eagerly drank in every inch of his wife, his mind swiftly spiraling into some rather naughty musings. He couldn't help but recall what Hinata had hinted at earlier, that a delightful surprise awaited him.

Naruto clicked his tongue. 'No fucking way.' He thought with a devious smirk.

'Hinata couldn't have planned what I think she has, could she?' Naruto thought once more, absorbed in his naughty thoughts as he went about further inspecting his devious wife. 

Hinata giggled at the shocked reaction of her husband, standing at the entrance door with his mind churning, his mouth gaping, and his interests piqued. 

It was just the reaction she was hoping for. 

Naruto hummed, biting his lip, "Heh, you certainly look... cozy."

There, Naruto witnessed a grand sight, a definite treat he had the luxury of witnessing. 

With delight, he traced his cerulean eyes from the crown of his wife's head to the tips of her toes, marveling at an outfit he'd never seen before, one that he hadn't imagined Hinata would ever have in her possession.

She was dressed in a onesie.

But it wasn't just any onesie.

Hinata was presently adorned in a cozy and alluring white onesie, perfect for the fall season. But it was adorned from head to toe with a delightful pattern of ripe, juicy peaches scattered across the fabric. 

The soft white background of the attire served as a canvas for the vibrant, cheerful fruit motifs. The peaches were embellished with small speckles and gradients, mirroring the authentic texture of real fruit.

The garment was not only visually appealing but also exuded a sense of comfort and relaxation, making it a perfect choice for a cozy day at home.

But from a man's perspective, from Naruto's perspective, the onesie worn by Hinata exuded a subtle yet undeniable sense of sensuality. The fabric, caressing her form with a gentle embrace, hinted at the contours of her body underneath, allowing him glimpses of her natural grace and feminine allure. 

The peaches, scattered strategically across the fabric, no, across the body of his slender, and luscious woman, drew attention with their luscious color and playful arrangement. 

The peaches, with their warm hues of orange and red, seem to dance across the onesie, inviting Naruto's eyes to trace their path, and come to grasp with their sensual design. The peaches decorating Hinata's onesie was a vivid and luscious shade of coral, each one boasting a plump and juicy appearance similar to that of a woman's buttocks. 

It was certainly a sight to behold, a sight that instantly caused Naruto to salivate, his mouth watering in response to witnessing the delectable treat in front of him.

Hinata chuckled as she noticed her husband's blue eyes immediately darkened with arousal, fixated on her—exactly as she desired.

She hummed, wiggling her hips a bit, "Mmm, you like?" 

She observed her blonde husband nodding, his grip on his briefcase handle growing tighter.

"Heh, like?" He shook his head, better emphasizing his adoration for her attire choice.

"No, I love it, my darling. Opting for such a onesie is a bold move, but an excellent one. Heh," 

Naruto chuckled, "it accentuates those gorgeous curves of yours, just the way I love Hinata-hime. But I'm curious..." The blonde cocked his head, studying how the snug onesie she wore highlighted the contours of her hourglass figure so well, he couldn't help but mutter a short but sweet…

"damn."

Naruto found himself utterly captivated by the sensuality as well as the confidence radiating from his woman, intrigued by this… delightful surprise she had in store for him.

Instantly, his mind ventured into naughty territory, entertaining a few racy ideas about what might be on his wife's agenda for tonight.

However, Naruto opted to feign innocence. He wanted Hinata to reveal her plans to him in full, to share what she'd been plotting. To his utter delight. 

So, he let out a playful chuckle, "So, where's this... treat of yours, hmm?" Naruto glanced around the diner room, feigning a perplexed expression, "Where might I find it?"

Hinata bit her lip, to hold back a giggle. She knew exactly what Naruto was doing. 

That mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable as his gaze lingered over her,  a seductive grin slowly but surely unfurling across those fox-like, whiskered cheeks of his. 

He was well aware of her intentions, as well aware of the naughty endeavors that crawled around in her head, and danced around on her face. 

He knew her well anyway. 

But Naruto was so intrigued, he wanted her to reveal her plans to him step by step.

Hinata had no problem with that. 

In fact, she responded with an amused giggle, her chest rumbling, which caused strands of her midnight blue hair to escape their confines and gently graze her cheeks.

Her long hair was gathered in a messy, high bun, keeping it out of her face and revealing every bit of her delicate facial features. 

The midnight blue-haired woman hummed thoughtfully, running her free hand along her clad form, just along her right hip.

"You know, Naruto-kun, I've been giving a lot of thought to what I should prepare for you this evening." 

"Yeah?" Naruto breathed, absolutely loving where this was going.

Hinata sent a charming smile his way, her lavender orbs glistening in the light. Her left hand tapped the diner table beside her, "I wanted to offer you something different, something special for you, Naruto-kun. Something that is tailored precisely to your needs, to provide the satisfaction a hard working man such as yourself so rightly deserves."

Hinata gave a tender smile, "I've noticed your dedication, Naruto-kun. I've noticed all the challenging mornings, the rough workdays, and the constant stress you endure every single day." 

She paused her words to nibble her lip gently, her eyebrows furrowing,  "You've been pouring so much of yourself into taking care of me, making sacrifices everyday to ensure we both attain the happiness we've always yearned for."

Hinata nodded, her bun swaying with her motion, "So, I considered this for you, my love; an opportunity to completely indulge tonight, as much as you want." 

Naruto's eyes shot wide, his heart skipping several beats by Hinata's words which resonated deep within him.

Hinata giggled once more, "So, I have figured out just what you should eat tonight, Naruto-kun." 

And in that moment, Hinata turned her body, turning her body in a graceful pivot, so he could see even more of her. As she moved, the onesie moved with her, displaying a fluidity that highlighted the gracefulness of her gestures. 

But as she turned around, Naruto's mind no longer took in the way the onesie looked on his woman's body but rather the makeshift of the fabric piece itself. 

What he saw, made his mouth drop even farther, and his massive friend buried within his slacks instantly spring to life. 

There, Hinata presented once more his meal for the night, a grand meal meticulously prepared to damn near perfection. 

There, Hinata revealed her backside, where a highly surprising detail was revealed, a detail that if Hinata didn't turn around, he would still completely be oblivious too.

Her onesie possessed a butt flap. 

Naruto's eyes shot wide at the sight of the white buttons that were engraved into her seductive lounge choice, which seemed to follow an oval path right around his wife's buttocks, the fabric merely covering up the space where the crack of her pussy lips was located.

The flap was currently closed, but thanks to Naruto's patience, or moment of shock rather, he witnessed his wife reaching behind her luscious frame to pry the fabric open, to snap it loose from the buttons that held it close. 

"Mmm, that's right. You can have me for dinner, my love."

Hinata bit her lip as she went about pulling her onesie's butt flap open, to give Naruto an even closer look at the meal he will be eating tonight. 

"I figured it's the least I can give you. And besides," Hinata shrugged her shoulders, looking back at his shocked frame over her shoulder, "I just wanted to be creative tonight, maybe even a little spicer."  

And with that, a loud pop was heard from the buttons of Hinata's onesie and finally, his surprise awaited him.

A grand sight of Hinata's creamy buttocks.

Hinata wore absolutely no panties underneath her onesie. Her two asscheeks seemed to peek out at him through the opening of her onesie, a onesie, by the way, he never knew existed until now. 

Hell, a onesie he never knew that his wife knew about.

It was a onesie that forsaken the essence of comfort and innocence, but now took on a different approach, one of seduction and all right naughtiness, and it now inhabited the body of his wife, his sexy fucking wife.

Naruto growled underneath his breath, trying his best to hold back his restraints but he felt them slipping. Dangerously so. 

It was always a pleasure to observe his wife transition from her innocent, wholesome demeanor to a more confident, seductive version of herself. 

It almost felt like Naruto was witnessing a different side of his wife emerging, brought forth effortlessly and presented to him without hesitation—a method to fulfill his desires in a way she knew well.

Now, with her adorned in such a onesie, revealing the plan she had dedicated the entire day to bring to fruition, he knew that she meant business.

Even down to her voice, he knew she was just as horny as he was. Her tone had transformed into a sultry symphony, draped in velvet and laced with subtle allure. Low and smoldering, her voice revealed a seductive side she reserved for him and only him.

Each word she spoke unfolded languidly, bathed in a sensuous cadence that seemed to caress his ears, and cause his dick to rise more and more in his slacks. 

There was an intimate confidence in her delivery, a knowing inflection hinting at hidden desires. Her words lingered, leaving a tantalizing trail of anticipation, weaving a spell of temptation that invited him to lose himself completely.

Naruto felt his arousal growing exponentially, every second his manly urges rising up that peak to a place of no return, especially as he witnessed his wife begin to climb on the diner table, the very same table he always ate her home cooked meals on but now…

She was his meal for tonight.

And Naruto surely didn't protest that. 

His erection, in fact, twitched in delight in his formal slacks, brushing against the zipper, eager to be unleashed.

His stomach was no longer the recipient that will be in the spotlight today, but instead his dick was. Just as his stomach growls when it wishes for fulfillment, his dick twitched and hardened, yearning with all of its might to reach for its meal.

Naruto's blue eyes darkened even further, 'Mmm, what a turn of events.'  He thought with a lick of his lips.

It was always like Hinata, always going the extra mile to be considerate, presenting precisely what he desired, as if she could read his mind. She always knew how to brighten his day and cater to his needs with utmost expertise.

And once again, she hadn't failed to impress him, displaying her talents once more.

And Naruto was pleased. Deeply. 

He licked his lips yet again, a curse slipping past his gaping lips, "Mmm, fuck yeah, sweetheart. I got to say, you've really done something that I never thought possible." Naruto trailed off before he began to take a step forward, deeper into the diner room.

"Mmm, and what might that be, my love?" Hinata purred, her sweet voice filling the entirety of the room, imbuing it with her loveliness. 

Naruto huffed, closing the dining room door behind him with a thump before continuing his journey forward, drawn closer to his delectable meal.

He hummed, his spiky hair tousling with every step, "You've outdone yourself with my meal tonight, Hinata-hime. Out of all of them, this has gotta be the best one yet." 

Hinata couldn't suppress a giggle in response to her husband's compliment. And as a playful treat, she began to shake her ass for him, firmly placing her hands on the wooden table to maintain her position, bent over, providing Naruto with a little show.

Hinata truly relished hearing that. It boosted her confidence, reassuring her that Naruto was genuinely pleased with the meal she had conceived, prepared, and served to him tonight. 

She was certain he would be anyway. 

Hinata lowered her head a bit, as she continued the action of wiggling her ass, her visible cheeks swaying left and right, their performance presented clearly through the round hole in her onesie.

"Oh? I'm your best meal, hm?" 

"Hell yeah you are, beautiful." 

Hinata giggled once more, before she brought  one finger up, doing so to beckon him over, "Mmm, oh, my sweetheart, just wait until you get a taste of me." 

She shook her ass once more, her creamy buttocks rocking side to side in a steady but enticing motion, "Come, sit down. Your meal is all ready and prepared for you, my dear husband." 

On that note, Hinata rotated her body, ensuring her back was no longer facing Naruto but his designated chair at the table, the one he sat in every single day. 

She then turned her head back to her husband. 

She brought her tongue forth and swiped the pink appendage along her plump lips in a circular motion, enticingly slow. It was a display that gave off an irresistible effect, one that made Naruto's dick fully erect. 

"Come, enjoy your meal." Hinata squinted her lavender eyes at him, "Taste me. Eat me." 

Those enticing demands were all it took for Naruto to finally advance in an effort to enjoy the meal his wife had offered him for the night; her. 

Naruto quickly made his way over like the starving man he was, ready to enjoy the fruits of her.

His mouth was fucking salivating, watering in a desire to get a taste of the delicacy that resided right within the gape of his wife's onesie, in the gapes of her now visible asscheeks. He was ready to devour her whole, to consume all that she had to offer, and even afterward, go for seconds. No thirds. 

He rushed over to her like a dog would to a treat, electing several giggles to slip out of Hinata's mouth at the sight of her husband’s visible enthusiasm. 

With a clatter, he placed his briefcase on the diner table, just beside her bent form, removing it from his hands, and momentarily getting it and what it stood for out of his sight and mind.

His blue eyes were rooted on his meal, and only his meal at the moment, once more with his usual desire to not be bothered by other matters as he attends to it. 

Now front and center, he was able to see the significant gape in Hinata's peach onesie, where it gave sight to her own natural peach, revealing her succulent, juicy core. Her pussy lips. 

Her pretty pink pussy lips were presented in between her plump asscheeks, fat, puffed, and glazed with a symphony of nectarous juices, a sight so delightful to Naruto's eyes, he couldn't help but stand back and marvel at it.

No matter how many times he witnessed the private delicacies of his wife, Hinata was still a meal unlike any other he's ever seen or eaten before. She was akin to a treasure trove of hidden delights, a treat within a treat that should be ravished again and again. 

At first glance of her backside, it appears to hold just one prize, her delectable ass, but when he looks deeper, there lies a cascade of additional treasures waiting to be discovered. 

Each layer of her present yet another gem, creating an escalating sense to arise for him to explore all that she had to offer. 

After all, he never grows tired of doing so. 

Naruto licked his lips for the umpteenth time it seems,  "Oh, my beautiful hime, you always just know how to please me." He breathed, as he centered his body directly behind Hinata, causing her to turn her head even further over her shoulder to keep an eye on him.

Hinata watched with hooded lavender eyes as Naruto slowly reached up and deftly pulled the knot of his tie loose. The fabric relaxed, unwinding from its formal embrace in response to his yank. 

As Naruto loosened the fabric, he immediately felt a palpable sense of freedom, free from the restraints of his formal display and now transiting into a more relaxed one, a relaxed form ready to eat his meal in peace. 

The black silk slid through his fingers, cool and smooth, just as his blue eyes slid across the delicacy of his wife bent and spread for him, his heated gaze never drifting off of her as he went about removing a piece of his formal wear. 

His actions were deliberate, each movement executed with an unhurried pace, his narrowed blue eyes focused and intent. 

Now, it was his turn to provide Hinata with a spectacle, and he observed as he made her shudder. The way he smoothly worked his tie off, coupled with his intense gaze, caused more of those enticing juices of hers to slip from her opening. 

She moaned, batting her eyelashes back at him, "Oh Naruto-kun." She moaned. 

"Heh," Naruto scoffed playfully, before he gave his tie a final tug before easing, allowing it to hang more casually around his neck.

He then let out a growl, low and deep, "Mmm, I am going to enjoy this, hime." He whispered out seductively, before plopping his ass right upon his usual diner seat. He scooted his chair forward, so he could be up close and personal with his meal.

Hinata hummed before giving her ass a sensual rock, "Yes, Naruto-kun, it's all yours, my love. Eat until your heart's content." She moaned, her loose strands of midnight blue hair fluttering in the air, keeping pace with her movements.

She gave him one last wiggle of her ass, "Bon Appétit, my love." 

Naruto gave Hinata an amused look, one of furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, and a playful smirk. 

Instead, he clasped his hands together, pressing his palms firmly, creating a seamless connection of skin against skin. 

Bowing his head, he expressed gratitude to Hinata for presenting him with a meal before partaking in it.

"How about…" Naruto lifted his head to smirk naughtily.

"Itadakimasu." 

Continue Reading On Wattpad Or AO3.

— (⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆)

[slayerdurge]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @illusivesoul. (Thank you!)

I'm going to share a bit from a future chapter of Secure Your Soul, which is my AU where Corpo!V never leaves Arasaka. I have previously posted this bit on tumblr, but it's been edited since then and it's been a while and unfortunately I don't have a lot of new content... so here it is again. 😅

--

CHAPTER TBD: FEED THE DEMON

V wasn't sure how much time had passed, but as she started to regain lucidity, she became gradually aware of Johnny's voice in her head.

"I mean, for fuck's sake, V," Johnny was saying. "I've seen your memories. The things you've done for 'Saka. You've killed. Blackmailed. Ruined lives. And for what? Corporate rep? Profit margins? How do you fuckin’ live with yourself?"

V stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten here. The alley she was in was abandoned. Litter lined the sidewalk, and the street lamps were barely flickering. In a dark corner nearby, a stray dog was busy devouring a rat.

For a few seconds, V just watched it. Homeless dogs were a rare sight in Night City. This one was dark gray and half its left ear was missing. It looked lean and muscular, and it tore off chunks of its prize with a ferocity that domestic dogs almost never displayed.

"You see that?" she asked Johnny.

Johnny's physical image materialized in the alley. He leaned against the wall—appeared to lean, she reminded herself—and gazed at the dog. "See everything you see," he replied.

"You're looking. You're not seeing."

"That so? And what'm I supposed to be seeing?"

"The evolutionarily synchronized relationship between predator and prey."

Johnny looked up from the dog and stared at her. She could see the anger on his face, but she could also feel him manifesting that same anger inside her body. No matter. She'd make it hers. Anger was an emotion she could work with.

"You see one dog eating one rat," V continued, allowing some of Johnny's anger to seep into her voice, directing it back at him. "In your interpretation, there's one winner and one loser. It's accurate, in a way. The dog wins. Look at him. He's a survivor. Even you should be able to recognize that."

Johnny didn't answer. His image was looking away from her, eyes locked on the warring animals. But she could still feel him fuming. Only now it was hard to tell where his anger ended and hers began. She continued speaking.

"You don't see the bigger picture. For every dog having dinner tonight, dozens starve. For every rat providing the main meal, dozens get away. They're fast enough or clever enough to escape.

"Only the best dogs feed, only the best rats live. And because of this, over generations, both species improve. In the end, the prey species benefits just as much as the predator species does. And the world gets better."

"The world." Johnny repeated the phrase slowly. She tasted his revulsion on her tongue. "This world?" he asked. He gestured at the trash-strewn alleyway. The dog had finished its meal and had settled to sleep in a blanket likely left there before by a homeless person. "This is your brave new world?"

"No, Johnny," she responded, her voice echoing the revulsion he'd forced her to feel. "These are just the rats that got caught."

---

And, now for my tags...

@merge-conflict, @gamerkitten, @luvwich, @fereldanwench and @another-corpo-rat

No pressure of course as always.

[sukimas]

theoretically, if people spent 150k on procuring food and medicine for others, would you even notice if you weren't one of those people?

if we go with OP's saying "that shit is like 10K", with the fandom kickstarter example, you could help 15 people. with the ao3 yearly (not monthly...) fundraiser example, which is about 450k or so, you could help 45 people. even if people were donating ten times as much to help others who were struggling as people donated to fandom projects, you really wouldn't even notice- tumblr has millions and millions of active users.

in a society with no social safety net, is it immoral to spend money on entertainment? considering that the average amount of money people donate to kickstarters/fundraisers/etc. is quite low. it's usually less than a full-price video game. (to quote inflation-adjusted monkey island, never pay more than 45 bucks for a computer game.) therefore, if it is immoral to donate to fandom shit, it's equally (if not more) immoral to purchase media as entertainment (since this often does not go to immediate financial needs of its creators if it is popular media.)

people should help other people survive. it's kind of necessary if you want to succeed at being a social creature. but living like a monk and donating all of your non-essential income to charity is generally not performed by even the top percentages of charity donors.

every inch of this earth is covered in bones that you're standing on- bones that were ground into dust for you to live on it. the internet itself is a great US-military-funded pile of bones. every shirt you buy, every meal you eat, every step you take on the sidewalk is founded on bones. bones that you don't even know you're standing on. not because you hate their former owners, or even don't care about them, but just because you don't know about them.

you shouldn't be punished for standing on a grave that you never knew existed. you shouldn't be punished for not dodging every grave when you're gleefully running over the grassy hills. it doesn't make it more just or unjust if the hills someone's running over are the Cringe ones! if the shallow things that bring someone joy are things that you think fucking suck and are annoying, well, honestly, that's just too bad. but people enjoying non-necessities that you personally approve of are spending just as much money on them as the people enjoying non-necessities you hate, and are therefore causing (or, if you like, not preventing) just as much harm.

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

hehehheheheh oc lore. hehegehgege

my writing skills are… returning to tumblr i suppose…

enjoy your meal. nehmo. @n3hmof1sh .

im joshing im joshing ik my writing makes u happy sometimes … :3

anyways under the cut

“...Broken…?”

Tsukasa’s voice filtered into Broken’s ears.

“...e-eh…?” Broken mumbled.

He sleepily blinked open his eyes.

A boy with golden-blonde hair, shocking green eyes, tan skin, and freckles loomed close over him.

“wh-HUUEEEAAAH!!! Great cycles, Kasa, don’t scare me like that!!” He cried.

Tsukasa jumped. “Ack!! Sorry!!”

Broken sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “...nah… it’s fine..”

It was silent for a moment.

“Um.. so… I found you passed out on the sidewalk last night. You weren’t… um… in great condition.” Tsukasa said awkwardly.

Oh.

“Oh. That. Er. Yeah…” Broken replied, glancing off to the side.

“You wanna talk about it? Or…” Tsukasa asked.

“You’re being awfully vague, Kasa.”

“Stop playing dumb.”

“I’m not doing anything of the sort. You’re acting as if I am some sort of skank.”

“It’s exactly what you’re doing!! There’s something going on, and you WON’T TELL ME!!”

Broken fell silent. That was true. Something WAS going on, and he wasn’t telling anyone.

“...Sorry.” He said quietly.

“Are you?” Tsukasa replied flatly.

“...yes.”

“Likely story.”

“...”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself or are you out of excuses?” “I wasn’t making excuses.”

Tsukasa didn’t reply to that.

Broken stared at him.

Tsukasa stared back.

“Please get out of my house.” Tsukasa finally said.

“...Yeah, fine.” Broken replied.

He got to his feet, walking away. “Have a nice day.” He said coldly. “You too.”

Broken put on his sneakers and opened the front door, slamming it behind him.

So what if he had gotten in a fight with one of his best friends? Why should he care? It happened all the time. By tomorrow they’d be fine.

…He hoped.

— —

“Wowwww, Broken!! You look so tired…” Madotsuki was saying.

Broken roused himself and lifted his head off the table. “Hmm?”

“Oh, were you asleep? Sorry if I woke you…”

“...No. It’s fine.”

Madotsuki studied him.

Broken raised an eyebrow. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Madotsuki replied innocently.

“Like there’s something wrong with me.”

“I.. don’t know what you mean.” Madotsuki said, with a sort of finality in her usually soft voice.

Broken didn’t answer.

Tsukasa was standing against the wall, doing something on his phone.

The door to the classroom opened, and a boy with short black hair and a white cardigan stepped in.

He turned, not expecting anyone to be in the room.

His eyes were hot pink, and they locked on Broken’s emerald ones immediately. 

Broken stared right back at him.

“...Hi.” The boy said after a moment. 

Broken said nothing. He could feel his face getting a bit hot.

“Hi!!” Madotsuki said brightly. Tsukasa waved, glancing up briefly.

Broken put his head back on the table.

The boy fiddled with his tie. It matched his eyes. “This classroom is supposed to be off-limits.”

“If you knew that, why are you here?” Tsukasa asked sarcastically.

The boy flinched. “Uh… wow. I guess you have a point there. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here.”

Broken spoke up. “You can stay.”

The boy shoved his hands in his pockets. “Oh… thank you.”

He walked over and sat between Broken and Madotsuki. 

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” Madotsuki asked.

“...Buzzi. I’m in Class 9, so you guys probably wouldn’t know me…” The boy replied.

Broken glanced up. “You’re the guy who made the Crystal Caves mural in the West Wing, aren’t you?” He said. He loved that painting.

Buzzi looked surprised. “...Yeah! What were you doing in the West Wing, though? Isn’t Class 8 in the East Wing?”

“Miss Lynx told me all the murals were down Hall 9H which is in West Wing… so I walked down there during lunch a few times to look at them.”

“Oh… that makes sense. I’m glad you like my painting.”

“Don’t loads of 9KA’s tell you they like it too, like everyday?”

“Not much. They’ve all seen it before.”

Broken raised his eyebrows. “Well, I think you’re cool.” He said. “...I-I mean, your art. I think your art is cool.”

Buzzi broke his gaze. “...Um… Thank you.” He mumbled, tugging on his bright pink tie. 

Broken regarded him for a moment and then looked away.

Madotsuki, oblivious as ever, leaned forward. “Soooo… Buzzi. Whatcha doing here?”

“...Nothing… I was just looking to get away from everyone in Class 9… they’re all a bit crazy.” Buzzi replied 

“Ohhhhhh. Well, I guess you found your solution, hm?”

“..Haha.. yeah.”

The room settled back into a comfortable silence.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part twenty-seven: "The Grocery Run"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt offers to make you dinner. The pair of you take a trip to a grocery store to get what you need for the meal.

Or

Matt struggles with sensory overload. You also get the feeling there's more behind what he asks you, but you can’t quite seem to figure out what…

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: A little Matt hurt/comfort installment here! And also, later in this series there is a hurt/no comfort arc known as Big Angst (my AO3 readers got paragraphs of end notes of my ramblings about, but just a head's up, you begin to slowly see tension arise between Matt and Reader about a particular topic... As always, you can find the entire list of installments available on tumblr here. Enjoy!

“So, are you free tonight?” Matt asked, slipping his hand into yours as the door to the coffee shop closed behind the pair of you.

Burying your chin into your scarf, the cold November wind chilling you, you fell in step beside Matt on the sidewalk. His cane was tapping rhythmically in front of the pair of you as you helped him navigate the busy afternoon foot traffic of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Yes, I’m free tonight,” you told him, smiling a little into the knitted fabric of your scarf. You’d already spent most of this late Saturday morning and early afternoon together and you felt giddy at the thought of him still not getting enough of you yet. “Something you had in mind?”

His hand squeezed yours, the little gesture drawing a wider smile to your mouth. You lightly bumped your shoulder into his in return.

“I was considering cooking you dinner, if you’d like?” he suggested.

Your left hand flew up to your chest, just over your heart, as you gasped dramatically. Matt’s head turned towards you, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards under his dark lenses.

“Matthew Murdock,” you teased lightly, “are you trying to wine and dine me?”

“You caught me,” he joked back.

Laughing lightly, your gaze dropped back to the sidewalk before the pair of you. The smile was still on your lips as you leaned a little into his side, feeling a bit of his warmth radiate along your side through his winter jacket. You loved living in the city, but you’d begun to love it even more simply for the fact that you often walked everywhere and had an excuse to hold Matt’s hand when he was with you.

“I’d love that,” you told him. “But the issue is, you never have food in your apartment. Did you actually go grocery shopping for this?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. “Honestly I just decided on it while we were having coffee so I still need to go pick up something to make.”

“Or…we could go now?” you offered, glancing at him beside you with a raised brow. “I can come with, if you’d like?”

His head tilted to the side, the smile slipping off of his face as he thought for a moment. As you approached the street corner, you turned the pair of you down another street, Matt following your lead as you took the pair of you closer to a grocery store that you knew was nearby. 

“I guess,” he answered slowly. “If you don’t mind? It’s just that…I tend to have a hard time at grocery stores. I hate them, really,” he admitted, a faint frown on his mouth. "If I don't have groceries delivered I usually go with Foggy."

“Is that why your fridge is always so bare?” you asked, half-joking.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No, not exactly. You know I’m usually not at home,” he replied. "Either I order takeout or I don't eat."

"Or I force feed you when you stop by at night," you teased.

"Yes," he agreed, shooting you a grin that had your stomach flipping. "You do that quite often. You know,” he began, tone turning playful, “you might actually be the sole reason I haven't starved yet.”

Leaning over, you placed a gentle kiss to his jacket-clad shoulder. Your eyes caught the little upward curve of his lips in response to the gesture. When you turned your attention ahead of you, you saw the grocery store just halfway down the block.

“So why don’t you like grocery stores?” you asked him curiously. “Besides the fact that most of them around here lack braille signage.”

He glanced downward towards his feet as if he was embarrassed or uncomfortable before he spoke. “Too much noise and stimulation,” he muttered. “Lots of people. Lots of scents. It’s just…it’s all overwhelming. And you’re right, there’s nothing labeled in braille. It’s just not an enjoyable experience.”

You frowned, lowering your head to rest along his shoulder as the pair of you walked. "I figured about the braille but I guess I never really thought about how assaulted your senses must feel in a place filled with people and food," you mused. 

"Yeah, I'm not a fan," he murmured.

"We don't have to make dinner," you said. "Or I can grab everything myself so you don't have to go?"

He leaned over, kissing the top of your head. You smiled contentedly, eyes briefly closing as his warm lips lingered against you. Fuck, you loved this man.

"I'll be okay," he whispered into your hair. "I've got you with me."

You laughed lightly, head still resting along his shoulder as you both neared the store. "You say that like I have some sort of super power," you joked. "Pretty sure that's just you, Matty."

"Actually," Matt quickly countered enthusiastically, "you do. It's right here."

You watched as he paused mid-step, raising the hand holding his cane and tapping a finger lightly over your winter coat, just over your heart. Immediately one of your brows rose curiously onto your forehead as you glanced down at his finger.

"I'm not following," you admitted. 

He laughed, returning his cane to the sidewalk as you both approached the grocery store. "Your heartbeat," Matt explained. "It's calming, in its own way. Oftentimes it's racing or a little uneven, but I like how it sounds. It's unique, more than most heartbeats, so it's easy to zero in on." 

He cleared his throat and your head shifted along his shoulder, glancing up at him. Your eyes narrowed as you swore you saw pink tinge his cheeks. 

"I uh, I usually focus on it whenever I get overwhelmed," he admitted softly. "Even before Marci and Foggy's wedding."

Your heart gave a little stuttering beat at that admission. Beside you, Matt chuckled, his hand squeezing yours.

"Like I said," he began, "oftentimes it's racing or a little uneven, especially when it comes to me."

Feeling a faint blush creep along your face at the new knowledge that Matt had been paying that close of attention to your heart for far longer than you’d realized, you drew the pair of you to a stop in front of the store. Removing your head from his shoulder, you awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and bit your lip.

“You still have a way of making me nervous,” you muttered under your breath. “But uh, we’re here.”

Reaching a hand out, you held the door to the store open for Matt. Your eyes quickly noticed the way his entire body seemed to tense, completely going rigid. A slight frown slipped onto your mouth at the sight as you watched him step into the store. You desperately wished there was something you could do to make this less of a difficult experience for him. 

“Cart or basket?” you asked, trying to keep your voice low as you stepped in beside him.

“Basket is fine,” he answered, posture rigid. “Don’t particularly plan to be here long enough to fill a cart.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you grabbed a basket from the stack near you. As your focus returned to Matt, you saw him folding up his cane. One of your brows rose curiously as you watched him.

“You mind if I just hold onto your arm?” he asked.

Shaking your head, you answered, “Not at all. You want me to put your cane in the basket?”

He shot you a strained smile, nodding quickly. “If you could, thanks,” he replied.

You grabbed the cane from him, quickly depositing it into the basket that you’d looped the handles of over the crook of your arm. Afterwards, you placed one of Matt’s hands along your bicep. He gripped it fairly tight, tighter than he usually did when you helped guide him.

“So what are we grabbing?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light as you led him to the open produce section before the pair of you. You noticed it was fairly busy today, judging by the handful of people milling about the fresh produce. “You have something in mind?”

He cleared his throat, head tilting to the side. “How do you feel about lamb chops?” he asked curiously.

Your brows furrowed, not expecting him to suggest that. “It sounds fancier than what I cook,” you answered. “Honestly, I've never had it before.”

“Are you open to it?” he asked, raising a brow behind his lenses.

“Matt,” you began lightly, “you should know by now that I’m usually always open to trying things with you.”

He leaned down towards you, a sly grin on his face as he whispered into your ear. “Yes, but that’s generally in the bedroom,” he whispered. “I’m talking about eating something that’s actually food right now.”

Heat rose to your cheeks at his words and you swallowed hard, glancing away. His hand abruptly tightened its grip on your arm as a woman pushing a cart with an irritatingly squeaky wheel passed the pair of you. Faintly you registered her perfume on top of that before you realized that had probably been a vastly more intense experience for Matt to endure than it was for you, judging by the death grip he had on your bicep.

“So, we’re currently in the produce section,” you began, trying to focus the pair of you so you could get Matt out of here quicker. “Do we need some vegetables?”

“What are your thoughts on roasted brussel sprouts?” he asked, seeming slightly distracted.

“I enjoy them,” you answered with a grin. “Is that what you want?”

Matt nodded silently beside you, his attention briefly darting off to the side as the corner of his lips turned down. Taking a moment to scan around you for where the brussel sprouts were located, you wondered what he was currently focused in on. Eyes catching sight of the little green vegetables, you gently tugged your arm against Matt’s hold. His head quickly snapped back towards you as you carefully guided him through the produce section, maneuvering the pair of you around other people and the displays of produce until you both reached the brussel sprouts. 

“Do you want–” you began, but were quickly cut off when Matt’s free hand darted out.

Tilting your own head to the side, you watched in curious silence as Matt’s hand scanned along a few different bags filled with brussel sprouts before you. You’d been about to offer to pick one out, planning to find one that looked the freshest, but apparently Matt had his own way of doing things. After a moment he carefully placed one of the bags into the basket hanging off of your arm and your brows rose onto your forehead as you took in the sight of some really fresh brussel sprouts.

“How did you do that?” you asked him in awe.

His attention shifted towards you, a little grin forming on his mouth. “I have heightened senses, remember?” he whispered. “I can focus on which one smells the freshest.”

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He chuckled lightly beside you, though his grip was still tight on your arm.

“Does that work with all food items?” you asked him curiously.

He shrugged beside you. “I suppose so, yeah. Why?”

“Ugh,” you groaned out playfully, turning the pair of you around. “It’s such a shame grocery stores are so awful for you to endure because I would kill to have you pick out fruit. I am terrible at it. I'd never have a bad watermelon again.”

“Good to know I should never trust you with buying the fruit in the future,” he teased, amused.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously as your attention returned to him. “What do you mean?” you asked. 

He shot you a tight lipped smile, as if he’d said something he hadn’t meant to before he quickly shook his head. “Let’s grab a few potatoes for tonight,” he diverted, his attention shifting away from you.

As you led him towards the potatoes, you kept side-eyeing him suspiciously. What had he meant by that? It was almost like he implied there’d be a reason you’d be buying the groceries for the pair of you in the future…

“We need a few red potatoes,” he said, his voice cutting through your train of thought. “I can pick them out if you guide me to where they are.”

You reached out, grabbing his wrist and drawing his hand to the section of red potatoes in the display. Immediately Matt began searching for the best ones, his hand briefly feeling around the potatoes.

“I take it all potatoes smell the same?” you asked him.

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder at you with an amused grin. “Yes, sweetheart,” he teased, “all potatoes smell pretty much the same.”

“You’re the one with the fancy Devil senses,” you mumbled as he returned to his task. “How am I supposed to know how potatoes smell to you?”

He chuckled, turning and dropping a few of them into the basket. “I suppose that’s a fair point,” he conceded. “Now, we should probably get the lamb. Then maybe a good red wine?”

Your eyes narrowed immediately at the mention of ‘good red wine.’ “Is there a reason you’re making a fancy meal that includes a good red wine, Murdock?” you asked him suspiciously.

He shot you a little grin, shaking his head. “I just want to make my girl a nice dinner. Is that so wrong?” he questioned.

You snorted out a laugh, Matt’s grin only widening at the sound. Leading the pair of you towards the area labeled ‘Meat’, careful to avoid Matt bumping into everyone else who was not remotely paying attention to anything outside of themselves, your eyes began scanning for lamb chops.

“Your girl, huh?” you teased, eyes roving the various packages.

“Mhmm,” he hummed back.

Chewing your lip, your eyes continued to scan the refrigerated shelves. Eventually you spotted the packages, pointing them out to Matt. Wordlessly you saw him reach out, touching a couple packages briefly before grabbing one. As he turned to set it in the basket, you saw him flinch at the exact same time a baby began crying somewhere in the store. Rigid once again, he placed the package of meat into the basket, his hand gripping hard to your bicep. 

“We can leave,” you instantly told him. “If this is too much, we don’t have to stay.” 

He shook his head, lips thinned out into a straight line. There was a pained look on his face even with his glasses on and you found yourself frowning at the sight.

“Are you still wanting to grab that wine before we check out?” you asked him hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice tight.

Nodding slowly, you turned, leading the pair of you towards the long row of aisles past the produce and meat. As you began leading the pair of you past row after row, your eyes were focused on scanning the various signs above them looking for the section with the alcohol. You had been so focused that you didn’t realize Matt had come to a stop behind you until his firm grip on your arm jolted you to a sharp stop. You paused, turning to look over your shoulder at Matt.

Immediately you felt your heart sink. You could see the tight crease between his dark brows that were drawn together low behind his lenses. The muscle in his cheek was twitching visibly, as if he was grinding his teeth together. Behind his glasses you could make out the pinched look on his face.

You stepped back towards him, facing him fully as his hand only wrapped tighter around your arm. “Matty?” you asked nervously. “You okay? Do we need to go?”

The muscles in his cheek continued to jump and twitch, but he made no move to answer. Chewing the inside of your own cheek, you carefully tried to draw him in towards you. He accepted your embrace easily; his face immediately lowered into the skin of your neck that was exposed just above your scarf. You carefully wrapped your one arm around his back, aware of the basket still hanging off of it. Your other hand slid up between the pair of you, coming to gently rest along the back of his head, your fingers gently carding through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him whisper into your neck.

“What?” you asked in shock, ignoring the looks being shot your way from other customers. Normally, you’d have been self-conscious drawing attention to you in any store, but right now you didn’t remotely care. Matt was having a hard time and that was all that mattered to you. 

“I’m sorry I can’t handle a simple grocery trip,” he explained.

“Matt, stop,” you said firmly. “If I could be aware of half of the things you always are, I’d probably always be crying on the floor. Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” You lowered your forehead, resting it against his temple. “Do you want to go?” you asked softly. “Or is there something I can do to help?”

He nuzzled his face further into your neck, his hand on your lower back holding you tight to him. “This is helping,” he whispered. “Just…let me focus on you for a minute?”

“Take all the time you need,” you assured him, your hand still gently carding through his hair.

The two of you had stayed like that for a few minutes, just standing in your strange, silent embrace in front of the loaves of bread. A handful of people gave you both strange looks as they pushed their carts past but you ignored them. Eventually Matt pulled away, a sheepish smile on his face as your arms released him.

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly. 

"Of course, Matt," you said, placing his arm back onto your bicep. "It's not like you haven't always been there to help me whenever I need it. Is there anything that would help you though?"

He smiled a little less uncomfortably now, stepping back beside you and nudging your arm, encouraging you to continue walking. You resumed your search for the wine section, once again guiding the pair of you past the various aisles filled with different items. 

"Your voice," he answered. "Your voice helps."

A blush rose to your cheeks as you spotted the alcohol section a few aisles down, just past the coffee and tea aisle. Leading the pair of you that way, you said, "Now I feel put on the spot to blurt something entertaining."

He chuckled softly beside you. "How about you tell me about that story you've been digging into?” he suggested. “You have been oddly silent about it the past week and a half."

You pulled him down aisle eight, leading you both to the vast section of red wines. "I found some leads," you told him, eyes roving the many bottles of wine before you. "Enough to dig into it and have Ellison extend my deadline. I've been working on it on the side of my other stories, but I think this Wayland Corporation is a part of something bigger. I just can’t figure out what yet."

"You said there was a possible connection to Figueroa?" Matt pressed.

"Oh there's definitely a connection," you assured him. "He was an investor–like big time investor–in Wayland. Pretty sure Figueroa still has a company that is actively investing a hefty amount of money while he's in prison."

"Maybe you shouldn't be looking into this," Matt said, a dark edge to his tone.

You shifted, turning to look at him beside you. A serious, concerned expression had taken residence on his face as he gazed back at you. Those dark red lenses looked almost intimidating. 

"Matt, this is literally what I do," you stated firmly. "I'm an investigative journalist. I investigate things. And I am not letting this go."

"If there's someone bigger than Figueroa behind whatever is going on, you're going to put yourself in danger, sweetheart," Matt pushed. 

You shook your head, eyes landing back on the red wines. "I'll be fine, Matt. No one's going to kill me. And if things start looking like they’ll be dangerous, I'll let you know, okay?" Shooting him a quick look, you saw his jaw was set firm. "You want to help pick out a wine or…?" you asked awkwardly. 

"Any cabernet should do," he answered in a clipped tone.

You frowned, turning to face him fully beside you. "You're mad at me, aren't you?" you asked him carefully. 

"I just don't want to see you getting hurt," he replied stiffly. 

Reaching a hand up nervously, your fingertips gently brushed along the length of his jaw. It was always one of your favorite things to do, touching him like this. His expression softened a little and you smiled, a bit of the tension you’d felt easing. 

"I'll be careful," you promised softly. "But now picking out a red wine to pair with lamb on the other hand," you began, spinning back towards the shelves of options as your hand lowered, "is something I do not feel capable of handling."

Matt chuckled beside you, stepping forward and grabbing a bottle off the shelf just to your right. You watched as he set the bottle in the basket, mouth slightly agape. How in the hell did he keep doing that?

"Oh, yeah," you joked, "that was definitely the bottle I was eyeing."

He grinned at you, tugging your arm a little. "Sure, sweetie. You made a great choice. Now let's get the hell out of here before more people start arguing at the same time a child is breaking a jar of pickles on top of the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, this terrible flashback to the nineties music playing on the speakers, the seven different plastic bags currently rustling, and–"

"Oh my God ," you said, guiding the pair of you out of the aisle quickly. "Let's get you out of here before your head explodes, because now I'm starting to worry. No one should be able to experience that many different sensations all at once."

"I agree," he said, removing his hand from your arm to wrap himself around your waist, lowering his chin to your shoulder as the pair of you walked. "But all of that is nice in one particular situation."

You rolled your eyes, trying to control your body’s reaction to his implication. "You would still find a way to think about that," you mumbled. 

"I'm always thinking about that with you," he countered, voice low.

A thought struck you as you neared the front of the store. "So that's why you're making me dinner!" you blurted.

"What? No!" he quickly responded.

"Oh it totally is," you teased him. "You are trying to wine and dine me."

"Sweetheart, I just wanted to make you a nice dinner," he assured you. 

Your head turned, glancing curiously at him beside you as your pace slowed a bit. He was chewing his bottom lip, the movement catching your eye. Why did he seem nervous?

 "...and to have an excuse to ask you to stay the night again,” he quickly added.

A smile spread over your lips, shaking your head as you pulled the pair of you into a line to check out. "Matt, you don't need to make dinner or come up with an excuse for me to stay, just ask," you told him.

"But,” he began slowly, his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, his voice filled with something you couldn’t quite make out, “what if I want you to stay the night more often?" 

You placed the grocery basket onto the conveyor belt, brows furrowing together as you pulled his cane from it. "We already stay at each other's places multiple times a week," you said. "You want me over…more?"

Turning and looking up at him, you took in the hard to read expression on his face. Once again he almost looked nervous. Why?

"Yes," he said softly.

"I mean…I guess I can stay over more…" you said, brows still furrowed as you studied him beside you. "I just have to figure out how to get to work faster in the mornings when I do. I can’t keep pissing Ellison off and bribing him with coffees."

"You can always leave some of your clothes and things at my place," he offered quickly. “Toothbrush. Shampoo and conditioner. Whatever you need.”

Your brows shot up onto your forehead. He wanted you to leave some of your stuff at his place? Were you hearing him right?

 "Oh, uh, yeah…I uh, I guess that would–would help…" you stammered nervously. “So I could get ready there in the mornings when I stay over, I suppose.”

As Matt silently smiled back at you, you began to wonder why it felt like you were missing something, but you didn’t have long to wonder as the cashier greeted the pair of you and began ringing up your items.

[cockslutpadalecki]

‘Til Death Do Us Part

Summary: Y/N heads back to the home she once shared with Steve in preparation to spend one last night together before their divorce is due to be finalised. Little does she know that her husband doesn’t intend to give her up. Ever.

Characters: Dark!Steve x Reader.

Words: 3391.

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, explicit sexual content, mentions of drugging, manipulation, gaslighting, implied forced pregnancy, slight breeding kink, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, mentally abusive relationship tw, 18+.

A/N: Written for @stargazingfangirl18​​‘s amazing 5K Soft!Dark Challenge. I chose dialogue prompt #3 (”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that”) and it is highlighted in bold. Siri, I can’t tell you how much of a blast it was to write this! Thank you so much for hosting, and many congratulations on your 5K milestone - you deserve every single one of them. Beta: @sweeterthanthis​​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. I also have to thank you Lau for being the greatest support and enabler. You are truly a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

Somehow you expect the family home to look different in a way— like the roof should be sporting some devil’s breath while the ground suddenly gives way to brimstone as a way of signifying its metaphorical descent into hell, but as you step from the cab straight onto the sidewalk, it looks the same as you left it four months ago.

Sure, there’s leaves blocking the gutter, the bushes leading up to the porch look a little unruly and the lawn could do with a trim, but really they’re only surface deep differences, ones you probably never would have noticed had you stayed put.

The real change you figure, would be inside, buried within the woodwork like rot, much like the person residing inside it, a malevolent kind of darkness laying claim to their soul.

The house still looks like something plucked right out of a fairytale, its entire presence cosy and inviting. You just wish you hadn’t been the one to abandon it.

Memories flood your thoughts— you could recall the day you moved in like it was yesterday, just like the moment Steve proposed to you on the front porch, and that first step across the threshold as a married couple will live with you until the day you die, no matter how hard you do your best to block it out.

Pushing open the white gate, you take a slow walk up the path, each step hesitant and tentative, unsure if coming back here was the right thing to do. You need those divorce papers, your inner voice reminds you curtly. Then you can get the hell outta here and put this all behind you.

You’d been Mrs. Rogers for the better part of five years, and to begin with, it had been the perfect marriage. Steve was a model husband and lover, but over the time the cracks started to show. He became possessive and controlling, desperate to know where you were at any given time of day when you weren’t with him. He told you what you could and couldn’t eat, controlled the intake of your calories, and eventually he dictated your meals to the last crumb.

He was a master manipulator— breaking off your friendships with your nearest and dearest from right under your nose, using your own hands to chop the strings from the “puppets” he called them. But little did you know, you were Steve’s toy all along. Moulded into his perfect little wife who wouldn’t dare put a foot out of line.

It wasn’t until you had to travel for work— a situation Steve did his best to quash, that you came to your senses when a co-worker innocently commented on the unhealthy dependency you seemingly had on your husband, after calling to apologise that you hadn’t checked in with him, despite the fact you had been caught up in meetings all day.

She became concerned for you, asking you to seek help from friends and you admitted they had all drifted away, not realising you were the one to create the wedge in the first place.

That was the first piece of the jigsaw to fall from its place, until more began to slip, giving you a glimpse into the harsh reality below it.

You eventually escaped his clutches three months later.

Six weeks passed before you served the divorce papers, citing unreasonable behaviour on his part. Steve seemingly accepted them without causing a ruckus like you expected, instead only asking of you a simple request.

It had been a long day at the office the night his text came through, a renowned sense of fear clasping at your heart the minute you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. You left it an hour before you summoned up the courage to open it, the two glasses of red wine helping to steady to your nerves. You expected something malicious, but what flashed up before you was far from it.

“Come back for one last night? I’ll take you to dinner at Romanoff’s then home for a movie? It’ll be just like old times.”

While you were initially dubious, you couldn’t help feel an odd sense of nostalgia, almost wanting to relive your old date nights. Before things turned sour.

So here you are, staring up at the house you once longed to raise your children in as the front door swings open and Steve appears, rushing down the steps as a wide grin pulls at his lips.

“Oh honey, you made it,” he greets happily, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. You stiffen at his touch, desperate to push him away but you hold your nerve, instead returning his smile when he retreats. “How was the train ride?”

You’d been living in the city since the separation, eager to put as much distance between the two of you, and so far it was doing the trick.

“It was fine, thank you,” you reply politely as he reaches to take your overnight bag, turning to take two porch steps at a time. You follow nervously, unnerved by his overly kind demeanour.

“Great,” he dismisses quickly, before calling over his shoulder, “so I set up the guest bedroom for you, y’know, remember, the one across the hall from the nursery.”

He’s babbling excitedly like you’re coming home for good, and you feel like you have to interject before he’s forcing you to pick out new China patterns for the dinnerware.

“Steve—”

He glances back at you. “Hm?”

“Maybe I should stay at the hotel like we planned,” you say hesitantly, not missing the way his jaw ticks.

“Don’t you want to stay here? In our home?”

The emphasis on ‘our’ makes you wince, but you do your best to hide it. 

“It’s not that, um, I just think it might be prudent given our impending situation, that we should, maybe set some boundaries?”

Your soon-to-be-ex husband laughs, “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

Years ago, that almost overly confident scoff would’ve had you reeling with arousal, but now it simply fills you with dread.

-

“Are we not going to Romanoff’s now?” you call out, smoothing out your dress as you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of the dinner table set with two place settings.

Steve appears from the kitchen, clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses, and smiles when his eyes land on you.

“Wow, you look... wow,” he compliments with a deep exhale.

A creeping heat blooms in the pit of your stomach, slowly weaving its way up your spine until it settles beneath the skin in your cheeks.

“Th-thank you,” you fluster.

Steve moves from where he stands, gently placing the glasses and bottle down onto the table. You step from the last stair, edging slowly towards it. You have to admire the attention to detail— the vase full of tulips in an array of colours, the stack of takeout boxes from your favourite Chinese restaurant, its emblem clear on the cardboard, and of course, the gentle soundtrack of love songs playing quietly through the sound system. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he planned this out from the start, but you quickly squash down your suspicions almost intrigued to see what else he has up his sleeve.

“So, what happened to the restaurant?” you begin to question, rounding the table as Steve lays out the cartons next to your respective places.

“What about it?”

“I thought we had a reservation there.”

You watch him move a fork with the tip of his index finger about a centimetre closer to the plate, and you can tell he’s purposely avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, I couldn’t get one,” he replies flippantly.

“I could’ve sworn you said you did.”

Steve shrugs, “Nope. Fully booked.” He finally looks up at you, brow furrowed. “I thought I told you that?”

“No, you—” you stop yourself mid-sentence, and shake your head, deciding right now is really not the time to pick an argument. “Never mind, I must’ve been mistaken.”

Steve flashes you a wide smile, and pulls out a chair for you like the gentleman that he is— was. This show might easily convince someone else he’s a good man, but it just proves to you how flawlessly he can act the part when needed. 

“C’mon sit down, food’s getting cold,” you hear him say, his voice dragging you from your temporary reverie, and you slide into it without a word.

-

Hours go by, and you hate to admit that you’re enjoying Steve’s company more than you had in years. He’s charming in all the ways you remember, and it’s difficult not to fall for it.

It starts with longing looks over the rim of wine glasses while in the midst of reminiscing about the slew of disastrous dates you’ve shared over the years. Then came the accidental touches as you both reach for a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. And laughter soon comes naturally as you recall a particular trip to Atlantic City, remembering how the poorly cooked shellfish at an All You Can Eat had made you both sick. 

“We had some good times, didn’t we?” Steve sighs softly. 

“Yeah, we did.”

“Some pretty great times too,” he adds, and shifts closer to you, sliding his hand across your thigh. You glance up, catching his eye and before you know it, his lips slam against yours. You lose yourself in the moment, hands snaking around his neck as Steve groans into the kiss, pulling you quickly into his lap. You grind down hard, feeling the pure muscle of his thigh push against your cunt, whimpering as it rubs over your clit just right. 

His hands rove your body through your dress, one slowly coming to rest at the nape of your neck, while the other settles around your waist, using the grasp he has to help control the roll of your hips. 

“God, Y/N,” Steve moans into the juncture of your neck, and the sound of his voice suddenly brings you back to your senses. You pull away, staring down into bright cerulean before you hurriedly begin to climb off his lap.

He looks confused as you slump back onto the couch next to him, breathless. “What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t,” you explain, “I mean, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He slowly exhales through kiss-swollen lips, nodding in agreement. “No, you’re probably right.”

As you adjust the straps of your dress Steve had hastily slid from your shoulders, you watch him stand from his seat and not-so subtly rearrange his pants before grabbing the empty wine glasses from the table.

“How about one more before we call it a night?” you hear him shout as he heads back into the kitchen.

“I should go to bed,” you say firmly. “Have to get up early to get the train back, work is pretty hectic at the moment.”

You push yourself to your feet a little unsteadily, and in the process of smoothing out your dress, you catch sight of Steve pouring you another drink anyway. You’re about to protest when he returns to the living room, handing you the glass.

You put your hands up to resist. “Really, I’m fine, Steve.”

“C’mon darling, we may never see each other again after tonight. Just give me this, please?” His tone is too mirthful, too full of glee and it unnerves you.

Darling?

You sit back down, and thanks to his persistence, you now feel a little on edge. He tries to make conversation, and you do your best to humour him, but all you can summon up are one word answers and nonchalant responses.

“I’m a little insulted you’re not drinking your wine,” he suddenly announces casually. “I even made sure to get your favourite.”

Wrong.

This was white. It had been white all evening.

Red was your favourite.

Glancing down into the glass, the wine swills gently from the motion of your hand, and your eyes are drawn to an odd film on the surface of the liquid. What is that? Perhaps the glass was dirty in some way and it reacted with the alcohol?

You squint a little as if it will miraculously make your eyesight better, but without bringing it right up to your nose and drawing attention to it, you can’t be exactly sure what it is. Instead, you decide to rest the glass in your lap and hope that Steve won’t notice you’ve yet to take a sip.

Your eyes move from the centre of the glass to the outer edge, and you notice a sprinkling of white powder dusting the rim. No, that’s not... it can’t be— he wouldn’t.

Fear grips your heart like an icy vice, and your legs suddenly go numb as a horrific realisation dawns on you.

“Is something wrong?” he enquires, watching you intently from over his glass as he sips on his own.

“No, just,” — your eyes flicker down without even realising it, before they find their way back to Steve’s, and you can tell he knows you’ve noticed something is awry— “think I’ve had my share for the night.”

Leaning forward, you slide the glass back onto the coffee table, and the moment Steve’s eyes too clock the powdery substance, his demeanour changes instantly.

“Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that,” he comments darkly.

You cough, clearing your throat and try your best to sound convincing. “See what?” you squeak.

The silence between you is deafening as you both weigh up when the other is likely to react. Deciding now is your moment, you jump off the couch despite the lack of feeling to your legs and attempt to flee, but Steve is too fast. His fingertips graze your ankle as he reaches for it, and you fall to the floor with a loud thud.

He grabs at your shoulder, and flips you onto your back, crawling up the length of your body on his knees, effectively caging you beneath him. You lift your arms, slapping at Steve’s biceps to fight him off as he grabs at your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

“You really thought you could walk away from me?” He leans over you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek. “That you could divorce me?”

“Steve, you don’t have to do this,” you plead.

“Oh, but I do.”

“Nobody has to know this happened, I’ll just take the papers and leave.”

His laugh is quiet and mean. “You can try, but you’ll have to sieve the ashes out of the fireplace.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face at his words. 

“Please,” you implore, “just let me go.”

“Are you insane?” he scoffs. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Your husband shifts above you, using one knee at a time to move between your parted thighs to keep them spread while one hand keeps hold of your wrists, the other working its way down your body until it reaches the hem of your dress. 

“Why are you doing this?”

Gently, you start to sob, and for a moment you think you see a flicker of remorse in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“Because we’re meant to be together, silly. Why else?” he says in a honeyed tone, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “For better, for worse, ‘til death do us part, remember? Do our vows mean nothing to you?” 

“They did once,” you strain beneath him, “right up until you started controlling my life.” 

He lets out an airy chuckle, like you just told him the funniest joke in the world. “You’re confused, sweetheart. I did all of that to protect you, I only wanted what was best for you.” 

“Bullshit,” you spit. 

His features harden, eyes clouding over from stunning blue to inky navy. “Watch your language.”

Cold air kisses your flesh as Steve roughly tugs your dress up around your waist. You try to close your legs, however his knees are pressed so tightly to the insides of your thighs that it’s impossible. He takes a moment to glance down at your clothed pussy before letting out a deep laugh. 

“I dunno, you come here all dressed up like this,” — his fingers delicately skim under the string of the thong that’s snug against your hip— “and you really expect me not to take what’s mine?”

“I d-don’t...” you splutter, “belong to you.”

He chuckles, and brings your restrained hands down, and shoves your wedding ring in your face, the subtle diamond sparkling in the low light like a fucking traitor. 

“I think this says you do, honey.”

As you blink away the tears in your eyes, he moves your hands back above your head, the fingers of his free hand teasing the black lace of your panties, moving it to one side to allow him access. You try to wriggle up the floor, but he has you pinned too tight. Steve fumbles between your legs briefly, and the dull snap of his belt buckle releasing meets your ears. Quickly, you feel the head of his cock press hot and wet against your folds, and swallow deeply, ashamed by the pool of arousal slick between them.

“And because you’re my wife that means I can take this sweet, little cunt whenever the hell I damn well please.” 

He enters you in one, sharp thrust, your body betraying you as your walls hungrily allow for his girth. 

“That’s more like it,” he praises, rutting forward and you let out a strangled moan. “Always were a whore for my cock.”

Your words trap in your throat as he fucks you— slow,  deliberate strokes that make your thighs tremble either side of his. He knows what he’s doing, using his intimate knowledge of your body to drag every painstaking ounce of pleasure from you, whether you want it or not. He lets go of your wrists, and while the opportunity to lash out at him is strong, all your fight has evaporated. Steve suddenly shifts above you, leaning back on his haunches to prop your ass up onto his thighs. Your body reacts involuntarily at the change in depth, unsuccessfully swallowing down a scream, which merely serves to turn him on even more. 

Each thrust of Steve’s hips draws you closer to coming, and even though you try your hardest to concentrate your thoughts elsewhere, it’s no use. His thumb settles over your clit, swirling it in lazy circles as he continues to impale you on his cock.

Harder. Deeper. Faster.

Fuck, you’re not going to be able to hold on for much longer.

“Stop, Steve, please,” you beg pathetically, unable to tell if you’re begging him to leave you alone, or that you wish he’d shift his caress a millimetre to the right so that you can reach delirium.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Cum for your husband like the good, little obedient wife you are?” he taunts, every swipe of his thumb coaxing you closer. 

You can feel it, right on the edge of your periphery. A slow ascent, then suddenly the coil inside you snaps, the whole room thrown off kilter as you shatter into a million rapturous pieces. 

Steve fucks you through it with levity, every euphoric wave of pleasure magnified as he hits that same sweet spot over and over until your vision whites out, and you’re coming again without warning. 

“See? See how good I make you feel,” he says as you return from your high, body still trembling around his cock. “I know you, inside and out.”

Dragging his hand away from your clit, he strokes it lovingly over your exposed stomach, and the gentleness of his touch makes you want to retch. 

“Just wait ‘til I pump a baby into this belly,” he smiles. “Then we’ll be part of each other forever.”

Your eyes widen, believing you have him foiled in his plan thanks to the bottle of pills stashed in your overnight bag, but somehow he inexplicably knows what you’re thinking, and the next words out of his mouth make your blood run cold.

“Oh sweetheart, I swapped out your birth control for vitamins months ago.” 

***

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[tender-rosiey]

my love isn’t big antics like others

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.01k

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: god i finally posted something; i apologize for my hiatus, life has been getting quite hectic for me and i was busy with a lot of stuff. i do hope i can start posting more once again, because i truly did miss writing and tumblr :( anyways here is my fic for the inquiry into love collab of @ufo-ikawa ☺️💕

sakusa never liked obnoxiously and unnecessarily loud people.

per example is his teammate, atsumu miya. he was too energetic, theatrical and too cinematic for his liking; he didn’t get how he felt so comfortable being like that in front of everyone.

he also didn’t like unnecessarily giant events and celebrations for something insignificant, and he didn’t see the need in sharing every single moment of his life with the world.

he believed that the things that really matter should be cherished behind closed doors to protect them from the envious gazes of others. however, he sometimes worries. what if you want to be shown off like no other? what if big antics is what you desire? is he denying you something that could make you ten times more happy than you are now?

and while those thoughts plague his mind, sakusa still tries his best to show and remind you of just how much he does love you, and that he doesn’t need exhilarating antics and actions to prove that he is worthy of you. he just hopes that you notice his subtle ways and many trials.

he hopes you notice how tidy he keeps your house, and how he tried his best in his plays to provide you with the best life and entertainment; because what’s the point of a hot husband if you can’t admire him?

it never ceases to make him chuckle, how you are at awe when he unintentionally and sometimes even intentionally flexes his muscles. it fills him with pride, because the fact that your eyes are on him and only him just sends him to cloud 9.

also he hopes you notice how your favorite breakfast is always beside the counter with a small note, and even the note is simple. it is short and to the point, much like it’s writer, perhaps except in the first part. it either contains a reminder to take care of yourself and to do that one task you couldn’t remember or a small “i love you” that screams stability and genuine feelings. because yes, once again, he does love, he does care, he hugs and he does try to make it into a flare that never fails to want you but he does it all in his way.

a way that’s just subtle and quiet.

and while some people see laundry as a burden and a hell of a chore, he sees it as a time to just relax and disconnect from the real world. “why?” they all might ask; it’s because when you do something with love and with the want to do it not with force, it’s just more accepting.

plus he couldn’t even if he tried to be bothered by it, because ,in his eyes, the look of your face when seeing that your things are clean and you don’t have to clean and fold them just ends up making his day. so it’s a win-win situation for the great sakusa kiyoomi.

it might seem rather insignificant to some or rather unnoticeable but sakusa never lets you walk beside cars. he pulls you to the sidewalk and stays on the side where cars just barely pass him, because he can’t handle seeing you get hurt. you noticed this, and tried to tell him that you care as much about him as he does for you and would prefer if he also didn’t get hurt. however, he didn’t budge and kept doing it till today.

sakusa isn’t a fan of cooking either. he can cook a few decent meals, but that’s all he can do. it got to a point in your relationship when you got back from home too exhausted to eat, even more prepare something and just went straight to bed. countless nights went on the same way till he had enough, sakusa decided to try and cook.

though not all things have sakusa as their number one man. hence why one day you were greeted by a sight you never thought you would see: your boyfriend who is famous for being serious was wearing that one pink flowery apron you got as a gift and was covered head to toe in flour for some reason.

apparently he was trying to cook a burger, and he accidentally opened the cabinet only to be kissed by a soon-to-pop bag of flour. you also noticed the burnt pans that had evident trials of trying to scrub them back to shape.

you couldn’t help but laugh your heart out, forgetting about your bad day, and go and help him; you failed to notice the soft smile he had on his face as you were wearing your own apron. love does indeed turn even the smartest ones to fools, doesn’t it?

however, sakusa doesn’t know whether he wants you to notice this one thing or not. it’s one of those things that happen in a fleeting moment, something so soft you can barely notice it.

so when you are sleeping soundly, in the comfort of your lover’s embrace, he places a small kiss to your forehead. and still wonders whether he wants you to know just how much he has done for you.

he could swear to every single human being that he isn’t whipped, that he doesn’t go beyond what everyone thought he would be like so he can see your smile even once.

sakusa’s love can’t be seen in crowded places, in places he knows every eye is watching, waiting to revile you both in their hearts. he believes that even in secret or behind your back, you are someone who doesn’t deserve the hatred they show inside. that’s why he waits.

he waits until you go back home so he can make your life even a little easier. maybe wash a few dishes, prepare you a meal, make sure your new car is well and with no scratches. it’s all for you. small or even big yet unnoticeable acts that he does that show just how deep his love runs. he just wishes you know it too.

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