#Stylish bed frame

[bath-bedroom-ketchen-garden]

Zinus Kai Bamboo and Metal Platform Bed Frame with Headboard / No Box Spring Needed / Easy Assembly, Queen, Brown

Product Description

The Kai Bamboo and Metal Platform Bed Frame is beautifully designed to fit your industrial or modern aesthetic. Its slatted headboard and low-profile footboard are both made from beautifully finished sustainable bamboo, while the rest of the frame is constructed with sturdy steel. With its clean-lined silhouette, this modern bed enhances your primary suite, kid’s room, or guest room with style and function. Designed for use without a box spring, you can rest your mattress directly onto the metal slats for long lasting support. All parts, tools, and instructions are neatly packed into a single box that ships right to your door for quick and simple setup. A 5-year worry-free warranty is also included. With the Kai Platform Bed, meshing your style with a dependable and affordable piece of furniture can be easier than you think.

About this item

Durable Steel and Sustainable Bamboo

STYLE, DEPENDABILITY, VALUE – Crafted from attractive bamboo and durable steel, the Kai Platform Bed features a modern, streamlined look and high-quality design that fits your budget

MADE WITH SUSTAINABLE BAMBOO – Headboard and footboard are made from sustainable bamboo with exceptional durability and a beautiful look, so you get peace-of-mind in addition to great rest

NO BOX SPRING NEEDED – Made with a sturdy steel frame, the Kai bed is built to support any mattress without the need for a box spring; supports up to 350 lbs for twin and up to 700 lbs for other sizes

EASY ASSEMBLY – All of the parts, tools, and instructions needed for easy setup are included in one compact box that ships to your door directly

5-YEAR WARRANTY – A limited 5-year warranty is included against any manufacturer defects

You can try this product Click & Buy Now

[zillifurniture]

Graphite King Bed: Elevate Your Bedroom with Contemporary Style | Zilli Furniture

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

[fullsandwichmiracle]

 "Oxford: A Year Abroad”

Paring: Felix Catton x reader 

Warning: 18+, nsfw, alcohol MDNI

Word count: 1622 

01|02|03|04|05|?

Y/N was enrolled at Oxford as an exchange student, specializing in economics. Securing a solo dorm since her roommate was a no-show, the room radiated old-money featuring two beds on either side, accompanied by a desk and a drawer. Opting for a rearrangement, she transformed the space by fashioning a king-size bed on one side and situating the desk and drawer on the opposite side, creating an illusion of more space. Following the successful room makeover, Y/N took a swift shower to freshen herself up to make a favorable first impression.

Y/N proceeded to the hall where all the international students were set to gather for campus information. The tour guide, Venetia, with bleached blonde hair in braids, began by extending a warm welcome to the international students and then led the group towards the library. The library exuded a cozy atmosphere, and Y/N noticed a guy sitting on a couch with some mates, engrossed in studies. He quickly glanced Y/N up and down before Venetia remarked, 

"Hi Felix, nice to see you studying for once."

Felix chuckled in response, saying,

"Nice to see you sober for once."

With that, Venetia briskly continued the tour, urging everyone to follow, casually dismissing the encounter. The reminding part of the tour was rather uneventful, and Y/N returned to her room after its conclusion. On her way back, she encountered Felix again, this time standing in a door frame engaged in conversation with a girl. It was evident that he towered over Y/N by at least a head, if not more. He appeared unfazed and his hair was roughed up but looking perfect. Realizing she was accidentally staring, she looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed, and continued walking back to her dorm.

Upon entering her dorm, Y/N glimpsed into the mirror and noticed a flush on her cheeks from the encounter. Felix, tall and quite attractive, struck her as unlike anyone she'd ever encountered. The remainder of the evening was dedicated to packing up the remaining items and dressing the bed in light pink covers. Y/N then changed into her pajamas, gearing up for the upcoming first week of lectures.

At the end of a full week of classes, Friday arrived, and all Y/N desired was to join her new classmates for a night of drinks. Rumors circulated about a party hosted by someone named Farleigh, to which one of her friends had secured an invite. Seeking some excitement for the night, Y/N opted for a more daring outfit, wearing a linen blouse with a plunging neckline, a lace bra, a short denim skirt barely concealing her ass, and a stylish yet steady pair of pink heels. Before heading to the party with her friends, she took two shots of vodka to calm her nerves.

As the cab arrived at the party, Y/N's friend, who got the invite, led the way to the gate and buzzed for entry. The gates opened without any verbal exchange. Upon entering the house, they discovered a bustling scene with people scattered all around and a makeshift bar. The group then separated, each exploring the lively gathering. Y/N approached the bar, scanning the surroundings to determine if it operated on a self-service basis or if there was a bartender. A guy emerged from what appeared to be a cupboard, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and wine in the other. Y/N approached the guy, asking him where she could get a drink. He smiled and replied,"Hello, I'm Farleigh. Feel free to help yourself to anything, sexy.”

Glancing at Y/N from head to toe, he suggested, "How about kicking off the night with a glass of white?”

Pouring a wine glass nearly to the brim, she gazed at the filled glass, smiled, and remarked, "That would be lovely Farleigh. My name is Y/N.”

Farleigh smirked and headed off to attend to his other guests.

After wandering around the house for a bit and finishing her wine, Y/N spotted the pool in the backyard where people were engaged in drinking games. A group playing beer pong caught her eye, and after observing a round, she went back inside to grab a fresh drink to join in. Upon her return, they were organizing players, and Y/N approached the table. On the opposing side stood Felix with Farleigh, and a seemingly random girl joined Y/N's side. Yet, it wasn't just any girl; it was Venetia, the one who led the tour. As the game kicked off, a crowd gathered to watch. The guys scored on their first throw, and Venetia took the initial drink. The game was evenly matched, with the guys having two cups left and Y/N and Venetia with one. Felix kissed the ball and scored directly into the cup. Y/N smirked at Felix before downing the cup filled with warm beer. Not a fan of the taste, she quickly sipped the cider she had obtained earlier. Venetia took Y/N by the hand, leading her to the poolside where a fireplace was situated. Felix and Farleigh had just arrived, and others were playing truth or dare. Venetia asked, "Mind if we join your little game?" as she sat down, pulling Y/N with her.

The game started off quite mild, but with each question, it escalated into more risqué territory. When Venetia declined to answer a question, Farleigh revealed a hidden bottle of tequila from a bag behind him, declaring, "Every time someone doesn't answer, they have to take a swig from this tequila.”

Venetia took the bottle, downed two swigs, grinned, and handed it to Y/N, saying, "Y/N, I dare you to knock back two shots or spill the beans on who on this lot you fancy for a cheeky quickie.”

Y/N glanced at Felix, then gulped down the tequila, going beyond the two shots and placing the bottle back. Felix stared at Y/N with a grin, seemingly formulating a plan, which he whispered to Farleigh.

When it was Farleigh's turn, he gazed at Felix, nodded, and remarked, " Y/N I dare you to take a lounge into the pool or tell us what position you want Felix fuck you in.”.

Felix glared at Farleigh and remarked, "You didn't have to be that aggressive.”

Y/N started to blush as all eyes were on her, awaiting her response. Having already consumed a bit too much tequila, taking a leap into the pool didn't seem like a terrible idea. Y/N rose from her seat and walked towards the pool's edge. Before taking the plunge, she removed her denim skirt to prevent it from getting soaked, revealing her pink string and someone whistled as she was bending down to take off her heels. Pinching her nose, Y/N leapt into the pool, tossing her shirt aside. As she hit the water, the chill had a sobering effect, and she realized the extent of what she had just done. She had exposed herself in only underwear to everyone around the pool. Feeling a tad embarrassed, Y/N climbed out of the pool and hastily dressed herself again, still soaked in water the blouse quickly became transparent and skirt denim darkened in color as if she had jumped into the pool with them on. She returned to the fire to warm up, taking a shot of tequila to help erase the recent events from her mind. This time, she chose to sit beside Felix who was staring at her chest that was now fully exposed with only her transparent blouse and the lace bra she was wearing under it. Y/N looked at Felix and realized that there was a big bulge in his pants, for the bulge to be that big he had to have a big package Y/N thought and then looked up and met Felix face that was covered in a big grin because he noticed how long she looking at his bulge. He put his hand on Y/N's inner thigh asking "Feeling a bit chilly? Wanna head inside?”

He looked down at Y/N breasts again and her nipples which nearly pierced through her shirt. Y/N nodded, and Felix fetched a blanket, draping it around her. He extended his hand, gesturing for her to take it. Leading Y/N into the house, Felix guided her up the stairs and into a room. It appeared to be someone's bedroom—quite lavish, with a bed that looked incredibly inviting. He whispered, "May I assist you in taking off your blouse? I reckon it won't be of much help in keeping you warm.”

Y/N nodded again to flustered to speak, Felix began taking off the wet blouse and kissing the neck once the shirt was off. “ Take your skirt off” he whispered whilst kissing her ear. She began taking off her skirt that was now very tight due to it being wet. Felix noticed how much she was struggling and ripped them off. As he did Y/N let out a small moan and he chuckled. “ As much as I would love to fuck you sweetie, you're to drunk and need to sleep but I can join you if you want”.

Felix tucked Y/N into bed, and she promptly drifted off to sleep. He planted a kiss on her forehead, undressed, and hopped into the bed beside her.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

TW Human trafficking discussions of injury

The front door is locked.

Eddie is almost winded, hobbling all this way on his sore feet. There’s a neat little screen on the wall that, briefly, woke up and flickered an angry red when Eddie had tried the door handle. Like that wasn’t hugely unsettling.

He found he just didn’t have it in him to try it again. Where would he go, anyway? Just getting to the gate would take him hours, and he doesn’t have any fucking shoes; he’s still wearing the white nightdress and nothing else.

Eddie eyes the curve of the sweeping staircase. No. No way. He’d have to go up it backward and on his butt to even make it, one slow step at a time. Steve said he’d got Eddie a room ready but...no.

No.

There’s probably fifty fucking rooms up there anyway, what with the size of the place; Eddie wouldn’t stand a chance, and he definitely doesn’t feel right snooping around like that. The back of his neck prickles at just the thought of doing something like that.

He needs the bathroom though. Too much bread, too much dairy. The milkshake, the creamy pasta. Eddie’s not one hundred percent sure if he’s going to vomit or just straight up shit himself, but there’s something uncomfortable happening. The stabbing, trapped wind type feelings occasionally taking Eddie’s breath away, they’re so sharp.

Okay. Logically this place is so fancy, there has to be a downstairs bathroom; which there is, Eddie finds it on the second try, after fully ten minutes of slow, painful shuffling.

It turns out to be a horrendously explosive shit, which Eddie is kind of glad about because being sick is the worst, and he feels much better after a traumatic twenty minutes in one of the fanciest bathrooms he’s ever seen.

Eddie tries his best to hunt around the lounge, but the TV and sound system are so sleek and stylish, Eddie can’t see an obvious way to control either. He’s frightened to touch the books in case they’re like, collectors items, or something. He sighs wistfully at them anyway; he hasn't been allowed to read a book in years. Well behaved Omega most certainly don't read. They might start...having aspirations and thinking for themselves and stuff like that, so it was absolutely not permitted at the ranch.

His feet are throbbing, but he didn’t think to ask for painkillers. There’s nothing for him to do but sit on the couch and feel sorry for himself.

He tells himself this is better than the ranch. It’s better. He’s safe here. He’s going to see Wayne again. Hagan’s probably been arrested already; everyone else has been rescued too. Well at least, Eddie hopes so. All of that being a lie at this point...why would Steve go to so much effort to fabricate a lie like that?

It’s a slippery slope, that thought, so Eddie tries not to entertain it. He’s spoken to Hopper himself; seen his FBI card. It has to be true, surely? Everyone is okay, Eddie tells himself on repeat.

Everyone has been rescued.

Eddie just has to...endure. He can do that.

He’s been doing it for years.

The couch is too soft to sleep on. The beds in the dorm had mattresses so thin they might as well have been a folded over blanket, so Eddie has gotten used to the creaky noises and sleeping on something almost completely solid, no give at all in the wooden slats of the bed frames.

It’s quiet here. No movement, no breathing, no whispered conversations between Omega or the footsteps of guards on patrol. Nothing.

It’s been dark for a while when Eddie realizes he’s getting cold; the thermostat, or however this place works, must have turned over to it’s night time setting.

Eddie finds blankets in the big fancy Ottoman. The room feels...too big. Too big and empty. All that fancy glass reflecting the room and making it look twice as big. He feels defenseless, open. It’s not a nice feeling.

The silence is oppressive.

Eddie shifts the Ottoman, it takes a huge effort to push, the thing is heavy, but he manages to butt it right up into the corner of the ‘L’ shaped couch. Eddie lays one blanket out on the rug, snugged right up in the small space he’s made for himself between the Ottoman and the couch, Eddie nests in the protected little triangle of space. One blanket to lie on, the warmer one pulled over top of him. He does take one cushion off the couch, for his head.

He’s warmer, and feels safer, here. It still takes him hours to fall into an unsettled and fitful sleep.

Eddie didn’t reach any kind of deep sleep; he knows he didn’t. He knows because he’s blinking, alert and awake from the noises he can hear. The front door, keys being put down, footsteps.

Foot steps on the stairs.

And Eddie didn’t experience any of the confusion that comes with being woken from decent sleep. No. He’s awake, fully alert, and he knows exactly where he is and what’s happening.

He hears those same footsteps come back down the stairs, “Eddie?”

“Here,” Eddie forces himself up, bracing his arms on the couch, knees both clicking after being curled up tight for so long.

Steve looks like shit. He definitely hasn’t slept. But then, neither has Eddie, not really, and considering Eddie’s now eaten two meals and slept a night wearing a practically see through white nightdress, there’s no way he looks any better himself; he’s got to be grubby.

Steve also looks aghast, “Eddie, I’m so sorry. I got...distracted. That’s not an excuse for just...leaving. Did you sleep there the whole night?”

Eddie nods, there doesn’t really need to be an explanation.

“Shit. Shit, okay. Okay, lets...you hungry? I’m starving. I know we ordered you clothes, but I should have given you something better than-” Steve sighs, a sharp sound, before rubbing at his forehead for a second. “Right, breakfast first? Anything you want? Pretty sure I have the stuff for cheese omelettes? And I know I’ve got sausage and bacon.”

Eddie can’t help but wince at the thought of yesterdays fecal catastrophe. It must show, Steve frowning at him from under his floppy preppy hair, “all the rich food it, uhm, gave me a tummy ache? So...just some scrambled eggs would be really, really great.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment, probably rethinking yesterday, “yeah, yeah okay, scrambled eggs,” and he heads off into the kitchen, Eddie forcing himself to limp weakly along behind.

Steve does make a mean plate of scrambled eggs, and it really does hit the spot. Eddie dodges the coffee, having a glass of OJ instead. “Okay, so lets...lets figure what to priorities here. Shower, you can borrow some of my clothes, and I’ll check your feet, does that sound okay?”

“Yeah...but you, you look real tired Steve, I mean it can wait-”

“No, no it’s fine. I won’t be able to rest if I don’t know you’re okay, plus...you look kind of tired there yourself...which isn’t surprising considering I abandoned you and forced you to spend the night on the floor-”

“Steve.”

“I...sorry. Again. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve ripped pretty much everything Hagan owned right out from under him. Or at least I will have, by lunch time today.”

And yeah...to be fair. Eddie does feel better. It’s cold comfort, but Eddie can be small and spiteful and bitter with the best of them so...yeah. Imagining Hagan sat in a cell somewhere, knowing his empire is being dismantled brick by brick. Yeah. Why not? Eddie can enjoy that for a minute. “Yeah, that’s...really good to hear.”

“Good.” They smile at each other for a long few seconds. And then Eddie yawns. And Steve yawns. And it sets off a horrible cycle of them yawning at each other across the table.

“Okay, lets get you sorted out.”

Eddie braces himself for the limp to the stairs, which he manages, shuffling gamely along with Steve hovering. For the split second Eddie allows himself to stop concentrating and actually look up at Steve...he sees Steve watching his move very intently, but also guilty as fuck.

The stairs are another matter. Having all of his weight on one foot while he lifts the other is...horrible. Stepping up is even worse, so much so that Eddie flinches from it the first time and nearly falls off the first step.

Steve steadies him.

On the second wobble, along with a pained hiss, Eddie finds himself just being...scooped up. Just straight up lifted, and he flails for a second before what’s just happened catches up to him, and his flailing ends with his arms locked around Steve’s neck.

Eddie will forever deny the panicked ‘yip’ noise that had come out of him.

Steve heard it though, and Steve’s grinning from inches away as he, very effortlessly, carries Eddie up the stairs.

Which, first of all, what a bastard, and second of all Eddie will not think about how fucking hot it is that Steve can throw him around if he wants to.

Steve has laid out a bunch of towels ready, and a change of clothes; just sleep pants and a tee shirt, a pair of boxers, but it looks like absolute heaven to Eddie. So does the whole of the bathroom, if he’s being honest. Even though this is a guest room and guest bath– which blows Eddie’s mind all on it’s own, he’s pretty sure that with a bit of inventive interior design, a family of four could live comfortably in this space.

So yeah, Eddie is able to sit safe and sound on a ledge in the bath and hose himself down. It’s not a proper shower, but Eddie doesn’t want to stand for that really, especially not with how it would soak his scabs, so this is perfect for now.

He finally feels clean after, which is a huge improvement.

Once he’s dressed, resting on a thick and fluffy towel Steve had considerately left on the toilet seat, he waits. Steve had been for his own shower real quick, once Eddie was settled safely, and he comes back toting a first aid kit in a green bag with a white cross on the side.

Steve takes a towel to cushion his knees, again not seeming worried about kneeling in front of an Omega, which is a nice change of pace.

“Oh,” Eddie says, at the same second Steve freezes in place, “the thing I could smell…” Steve has showered, and he couldn’t have reapplied blockers. Steve’s scent is only vague in the house downstairs, just a nice background scent; Alpha and comfort and home and safe...but now it’s hitting Eddie full in the face. Eddie sways forward mindlessly, trying to get closer to the source, Steve reaching out to steady him by the shoulder.

Eddie almost feels like he’s blinking awake, and Steve is right there. Like, two inches away, licking his lips and looking at Eddie with eyes so blown they’re almost back, “yeah,” Steve swallows thickly, and then visibly jumps when his phone rings. He looks startled by the noise, “sorry. Sorry I should- yeah, what is it, Henderson?”

And Steve leaves the room. Eddie feels kind of foggy, but also all kind of wonderful. Steve’s scent is...it’s good. It’s real nice. It’s...probably perfect. Smells like home and safe and mate and all that good shit Eddie had secretly dreamed about in the darkness of the dorm room at the ranch, trying to keep himself sane.

Eddie can hear Steve talking, “yeah, multiple accounts. Yeah, I know, but there wasn’t enough in there so I cleared out...no, no, you think Eddie only cost a quarter mil?” Steve laughs, “yeah, it was quite a bit more, yeah.” Steve sighs, “shut up, Henderson. Oh my god, no I did not get a receipt.”

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mx-jinxous @goodolefashionedloverboi @bogwitchlesbian @lunaraquaenby @steddieinthesun @pluto-pepsi @disrespectedgoatman @i-eat-spinal-cords @waelkyring @kal-ology @grtwdsmwhr @v3lv3tf0x @itsall-taken-blog @nrvscig @dragonmama76 @scarletyeager @slv-333 @abstractnaturaldisaster @tinyplanet95

[bigtreefest]

Sick of It

Pairing: Boyfriend! Steve Rogers x Girlfriend! Reader one-shot

Summary: Steve looks good in everything and you’re sick of it. That, among other things.

Word count: 1,784

Content/warnings: Crying, comfort, angry feelings, kissing, mentions of body image issues, swears, snacks, non-sexual semi-nudity

A/N: I wrote this a couple weeks ago while I was feeling like absolute crap. I was so stressed and just wanted someone to hold. I know too many people relate. I think Steve would’ve been such a sweetie for this kind of moment.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

“I’m so fucking done.”

You slammed the door to the pantry as Steve looked over his shoulder at you from his spot on the couch.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” His words trailed down to you as stomped down the hall and slammed the door to his room.

Steve sighed and tossed the blanket off his lap, softly padding after you down the corridor. He leaned against the doorframe before lightly knocking with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

“Hey, you alright?” He faintly heard the sliding of his dresser drawers, frantically paired with the sound of clanging hangers in his closet.

Steve opened the door slowly to be met with the sight of you half naked, hoodie stretched over your one arm and head, only accompanied on your body by your socks and underwear.

You grumbled and sighed before pulling the hoodie fully down over your body, looking in the mirror before ripping it off and throwing it at him. Steve didn’t flinch, catching the beige hoodie he had been given in a stylist’s attempt to take him on as a client.

Steve had many pieces of clothing like that: obscure fashion pieces gifted to him because of his celebrity status. To a normal person, they were impractical and weird. Odd shapes for an odd body. They’d only look good on someone as hot as him, broad shoulders, skinny waist, and all. Any time you’d try to put on a piece of the clothing, you felt like it hugged your curves in all the wrong ways.

You sighed, but it was deep and guttural, bordering on a scream. The way every piece of clothing, which looks so trendy and stylish on Steve, draped over your hips in a weird way, drove you nuts. The colors didn’t look as good, the shape was meant for someone else.

You flopped down on the bed, still only in your underwear, as Steve grabbed a hanger, placing the hoodie on it and hanging it back in the closet.

He walked over to you, slotting his legs in between yours which swung off the bed. He leaned forward over you until his arms framed your head, one hand on each side, careful to miss your hair that was sprawled out over the comforter.

When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by a sea of blue. You wanted to melt instantly at the care and concern that Steve’s eyes held, before you remembered why you were so upset.

You rolled on your side with a groan, hiding your face in the plush covers before Steve did his best to brush the hair out of your way.

He continued to softly rub his thumb against your temple. “Jellybean, you wanna tell me what’s going on? What’s got you so upset?”

You sighed before speaking into the blanket covering your mouth. Even Steve’s super soldier hearing couldn’t decipher the muffled sounds.

“Can you try again for me? I didn’t quite catch that.”

You turned slightly and threw your hands over your face in exasperation before peeking through your fingers at the face full of love and kindness that was always waiting on the other side.

“I’m sick of it.” It came out still muffled by your palm, but understandable this time. Steve nodded in an attempt to understand.

“Sick of what, honey? Anything I can fix? Or at least help with?” He helped you up, sitting next to you on the mattress. He attempted to pull you into his lap before your stopped him, pushing his arms off of you.

“No! Stop it, you’re the problem.”

Steve was taken aback. He would never do anything to hurt you, not even accidentally, so he had no idea where this was coming from. He cautiously continued.

“I’m really sorry, bean. What did I do?”

You shook your head before it fell into your hands, tears threatening to dampen the heels of your palms while you sniffled,sucking your emotions back in. You took a deep breath before looking up at him with red eyes.

“You know what? Actually, nothing. I’m overreacting. Forget about it. Maybe I should just go.”

You stood up and began to gather your clothes from the floor when Steve stood to stop you, holding your hands against his chest.

“Wait, Jellybean, come on. If-“

You threw down your hands, releasing them from his grip as you continued to look down at your feet.

“Quit calling me that!! That’s the problem!! I’m not a jellybean!”

His head cocked to the side in confusion. “Honey, what do you mean? I thought you liked that nickname…”

You shook your head as Steve crouched down in an attempt to meet your gaze. “No, because a jellybean would fit in your clothes and look good. And I don’t at all right now.”

Steve cautiously moved a hand to your cheek, finally able to look into your eyes. “Hey, what happened? Did someone say something to you? Did I? If I did anything to make you feel like that, I’m so sorry. You’re so perfect in every single way, what’s making you feel differently?”

His other hand went to your other cheek and you grabbed his wrists, looking down again, kicking your feet. Your next words came out as a whisper. “Everything sucks. I’m exhausted, and my eyes keep twitching because of it. I couldn’t focus to save my life today. I thought coming over here would make me feel better, and I looked in your pantry to see if you had any of the good snacks and of course you don’t because you’re Mr. Healthy! None of your clothes fit or look good on me! I mean, why do your even own half this stuff!? So many pairs of fake glasses, your eyesight’s perfect-no. Better than perfect! You make stuff that’s not even fashionable or practical look good and I’m sick of it!” You were practically yelling now, your words growing in volume the more you kept going.

Steve simply nodded, letting you vent as much as you needed to and taking it all in. He knew he didn’t have good snacks, he had asked if you wanted him to pick up your favorites when grocery shopping last week and you said ‘no, that’s not necessary. I probably shouldn’t tempt myself anyways. I’m trying to be healthier.’ He should’ve gone with his gut. He wouldn’t blame that on you, though.

He knew his clothes were ridiculous, too, but he kept them around because he thought you liked them. And he loved the way they looked on you.

He also knew the game you liked to play of ‘is it a fit or are they just hot,’ looking at the ridiculous clothes designer brands would release and judging whether or not they were high fashion, or just on a person with a nice body. He had just never thought he would be the subject of it, or that it would bring you down this much.

Steve knew you hadn’t been sleeping well for the past month, too, but hadn’t said anything. He could feel the way you tossed and turned at 3am, before you finally fell asleep again an hour later, only to be woken up shortly after by the alarm clock.

You looked up again after Steve had been quiet for too long. You let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I think I’m just taking this all out on you because you’re here. Everything but you is wrong today, and I’m taking it out on the one thing that’s here.”

You shook your head, profusely apologizing before Steve pulled you in close against his chest. He kissed the top of your head as he rubbed your back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Thank you for talking to me. I’m not the enemy here. I’m your teammate. Thank you for letting me in.”

“It just isn’t fair.” You spoke into his chest before looking up into his eyes again.

“Even when you’re concerned you’re still hot, too.” You rolled your eyes before throwing your forehead back in between his firm pecs.

“Steven. Fix it.” Came out mumbled in his shirt.

Steve laughed and nodded before kissing the top of your head again. “I think I have just the thing. Hold on.”

He meant that literally. Steve stood up fully and you wrapped your legs around him, clinging like a koala, as he walked back over to the closet. The fact that he did it so effortlessly made you feel a little better about yourself, but a super soldier could probably do that with anyone.

He browsed the rack and shelves before he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here it is. They let me keep these after I had to pose as part of a construction crew for a mission. Regular people clothes. None of that high fashion bullshit.”

You laughed against his neck before he set you down on the bed. He kissed the tip of your nose before sliding a dark gray sweatshirt over your head and sinking down to his knees to pull the light gray sweatpants up your legs. They fit just how your wanted and you beamed at him.

“Better?” You nodded.

“Perfect. Thank you, Stevie.”

He gave you a wink. “Of course, jellybean. I think these fit you just right, but maybe your outfit’s missing something. I might still have the reflective vest around here somewhere, or maybe you need a good pair of fake glasses to top it off?”

You giggled and pushed his shoulder. “Absolutely not. I think the only thing that could make this better is if you had real snacks in the pantry.”

Just then, the both of you heard a knock on the door. You perked up and looked over Steve’s shoulder before raising an eyebrow at him. Steve looked back at you sheepishly.

“I think your prayers have been answered. I texted Buck and asked him to pick up your favorites the second I heard you huffing while searching through the cabinets.”

You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. You’re perfect, even if it’s a little infuriating how much so.”

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around you again, carrying you towards the front door to retrieve the package. “Perfection means nothing if I can’t use it to make your life better. I love you, Jellybean.”

You smiled as he set you down on the couch and handed you a bag of snacks before cuddling close and pulling the soft throw blanket back over the two of you. You placed your hand gently on his cheek. “I love you more, Stevie.”

Bonus A/N: What’s your favorite snack/candy? I’m currently rocking with those nerds gummy clusters. So good.

General Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Three - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One and Chapter Two! Masterlist :)

Chapter Three - Wildflowers

It was the next morning in your small motel room, the sun starting to peek through the curtains that were half-assed pulled over the window. Today was the day and you weren’t sure how you felt about it, since some of the stirred emotions last night were from the whiskey. Were you still excited to go out and do something different but with Tyler Owens? He was quite the eye candy, but what if Finn was right and Tyler would just hurt you in the end? 

You laid out like a starfish in the cozy bed, not wanting to leave the warmth of the covers. Sighing to yourself and glancing at your watch that proudly showed 6:56 am, even on days off you couldn’t sleep in. You pushed up on your elbows to sit up and lean against the headboard which was colder than expected and sent shivers down your spine. You rubbed the sleepiness out of your eyes and flung the covers off your legs to immediately regret the decision as the room was chilly for the middle of summer in Oklahoma, and you decided to sleep with shorts on. 

There was no turning back now, the heat was lost from the bed and wouldn��t be recovered until tonight when you crawled back in. You slid to the edge of the mattress then pushed yourself up and headed to the bathroom to start your usual morning routine. 

Once you finished, you walked back to the loveseat in the corner of the room where your suitcase sprawled out with a pile of your dirty clothes next to it. You only packed one or two nicer outfits when you were chasing since you would usually get soaked and dirty. You pulled out your nicer light blue jeans with a few stylish cuts on the knee and thighs, a coral pink dress top, and a pair of black cowboy boots. 

After changing into your attire for the day, you went back to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You sighed and rubbed your face, it looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks. 

“If he didn’t like what he saw, he wouldn’t have asked,” you mumbled to yourself, trying to boost your confidence. On storm chasing trips you never brought any makeup, why would you when the weather would just smear everything? You turned the sink on getting your fingers damp and fluffing your (y/h/c) and then put it into a French braid which was a workout you weren’t expecting to do this early in the morning. 

By the time you were done, it was about 7:45. You sat on the edge of the bed and unplugged your phone from its charger, half expecting to see a message from Tyler, but it was just Facebook and Snapchat notifications. Shoving your phone in your back pocket and grabbing the small gray over-the-shoulder clutch you used for a purse when going somewhere instead of lugging around your usual one which has a lot of storm-chasing stuff in it, you grabbed your room key and headed out the front door. 

As you locked it behind you, the door opened in the room to the left of you. Not knowing who was on the left, as Asher and Finn shared the room to the right, you glanced over to give a nonchalant ‘good morning’ to whoever it was. 

Before you could even say a word, you saw it was Tyler who was dressed in a white shirt, red flannel over top, his normal blue jeans, cowboy boots, belt and belt buckle which was larger than Texas, and his signature cowboy hat. 

“Well, good morning, gorgeous,” he said, leaning against the frame of his door and looking over at you. 

“Good morning, Ty,” you said softly, “What caused you to stir up so early?” 

“Couldn’t sleep any longer, t’was too excited for today,” he said with a big smile, “What about you?” 

“Oh, I’m usually always up around 7 and out the door by 7:45, no matter what day it is or the circumstances,” you said, turning and heading towards the stairs. You didn’t want it to seem like you were losing sleep over him, heaven knows what he would do if he found out you couldn’t fall asleep until after midnight thinking about him and how the day would go. 

Without paying much attention to the stairs, you somehow forgot that morning dew was a thing and metal was usually covered in it. You slipped on your first step and as soon as you started to go backward, you felt two arms catch you and the addicting smell of Tyler flooding your nose; this time without as much rain and sweat smell. This was not how you wanted the day to start, but at least he caught you so your butt didn’t get wet. 

“Careful there, little lady,” he said, helping you steady yourself, “I don’t think the Storm Riders would take too kind to me if they found out you broke your rear goin’ out to breakfast with me.” 

“I don’t think I would either,” you said, grabbing onto the railing and making your way down the rest of the stairs with Tyler right behind you. 

“Do you want to walk over to JoAnn’s or take Ol Red?” He asked, holding the keys up with the various key chains he had collected. 

“I’m going to walk, I don’t care how you get there,” you said, starting to walk down the street to JoAnn’s Whirlwind diner. In reality, as much as you wanted to just drive there, you needed a few minutes to gather your thoughts and pull yourself together; secretly wishing he would drive there and leave you alone for a minute. 

“You go on in and grab us a booth, I’ll be there in a few, I’m going to fill up Ol Red over at Cyclone Gas and Go,” he said, motioning over to the opposite way you were heading. 

“Will do, cowboy!” You called behind you, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. The warm morning sun felt wonderful on your face and body after still being chilled from escaping the covers. You pulled your sunglasses down to the bridge of your nose and pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear before crossing the street at the only stop light in town. 

Behind you, his truck roared to life, the radio blaring ‘Fishing in the Dark’ by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band from the day before. 

“Jesus Christ!” Tyler shouted, immediately turning the radio down. You turned your head and saw Tyler rubbing his ears slightly, then glancing around to see if anyone saw. You giggled and turned before he saw you, at least you both had embarrassing moments this morning. 

Opening the diner door, you were greeted with a warm ‘Good morning, Honey!’ from one of the main waitresses, Cindy. She was always so welcoming and energetic. 

“Good morning, Cindy!” You called, heading over to the corner booth where you usually hid yourself in the mornings to watch people. 

“Coffee and water with a lemon, (Y/n)?” The other waitress, Jenny, asked, walking by your table. 

“Yes please,” you said, “There will be someone joining me today, so if you could bring menus over I’d appreciate it.” 

“Absolutely!” Jenny said, walking behind the counter and filling up one of their signature blue mugs with a tornado and their branding on it with coffee. 

She came over and sat your drinks down in front of you, along with menus and silverware. You grabbed a couple of the little cup creamers and a sugar packet, dumping them into your coffee and stirring it gently. 

“Thank you, Jenny,” you said, smiling at her. 

“Just flag us down when your friend gets here,” she said, walking off to another table. 

You pulled your phone out and opened Snapchat, opening the few snaps from your team and surprisingly Dani from the Wranglers. You tap on the chat and see it’s a photo of you and Tyler dancing from last night. Remembering the night's events and how calm you felt while slowly dancing with him made you smile. You saved the picture in the chat and messaged her back, ‘Thanks for sending this! I’m not sure who taught him how to dance, but they did well, haha!’ 

You sat your phone down next to your purse beside your thigh, grabbed your coffee cup, and held it to your mouth taking in its heat. While taking a sip of the warm liquid, the bells above the door rang throughout the diner. You glanced up to see Tyler strolling in with one hand behind his back and the other taking his hat off. You watched him scan the tables looking for you, giving a courteous slight wave to signal where you were. As soon as he saw you, it was like his whole face lit up with excitement like a kid in a candy store. 

He walked over, setting his hat down on the seat, and slid in across from you, one hand still behind him. 

“What are you hiding there, Owens?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee. As if on cue, he pulled out a bouquet of wildflowers tied together with a white bow. 

“Just some beautiful flowers for an even more beautiful woman,” he said smiling, “I’d lie and say I picked them myself but there were a couple of little kids selling them outside the gas station and I couldn’t help myself.”

Want More? Here's Chapter Four!

[afyrian]

japan’s summer persimmons kita shinsuke x fem!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 1k | synopsis: based on 'good directions' by billy currington

    the sun sits high in the sky, baring its bright rays down onto the country roads. the summer heat leaving a refracting effect, a wavy appearance to live through. some of the crops’ leaves start to wilt under the extreme heat. however, none of it seems to affect kita shinsuke. a wet rag is resting on his neck, straw hat blocking the sun from entering his eyes.

  he sits comfortably in a folding chair, boots propped up onto a low stool. the pair of jeans he wears has rips and dirt caked into each stitch, matching his shirt that needs another soak. his arm rests on the increasingly hot truck bed, hand holding the farmer's almanac for the upcoming year. 

  very rarely will kita find himself selling out of his flatbed truck. but once the season starts getting to the end of the season, he needs to get rid of some of the extras. especially his persimmons which he sells at a discount. they're slightly deformed, perfectly edible by his standards, but unlikely to be sold at traditional grocery stores. and while they sell well, the past month has been too hot for people to stop. 

  however, today seems to be his day as another car drives up. it's a beautiful car, shiny with some mud on the wheels, the license plate written out to say 'tokyo'. the windows are slightly tinted as a few magnets bedazzle the back bumper. kita tilts back his hat, setting down the almanac onto the truck. taking in a deep sigh, he stands up, resting his hands on his hips. 

  the door opens and out steps you. you have a pair of sunglasses on, protecting you from the intense glare of the sun. your arm rests on the top of your car, a pair of stylish overalls’ straps rests on your shoulders. “hey! would you by any chance know how to get to the interstate?” you bring up your free hand, raising your sunglasses to see him better.

  in this moment, kita was completely dumbfounded by you. the way you stood in the bright light, blocking some of the sun as a halo effect displays around you. it seemed as if a city angel made their way to his little bumpkin town. “the interstate? well there’s a caution light down yonder, a little country store stocked full of food,” he starts, taking a few steps towards your car, thumb moving to rest in his pocket.

  “you have got to stop in and ask for ms. yamada’s green tea. she’d love ya,” kita can’t help but feel his heart racing, a smile growing on your face, “now a left will take you to the interstate. but a right will bring you right back here to me.”

  kita was never the forward type, but knowing that you’re from out of town, that he may never see you again. he just had to take a chance. it seems to work well as you tap the top of your car, still smiling ear to ear, “really, well i’ll ask ms. yamada her opinion of you and i’ll see which way life takes me.”

  “before you ask her, just remind her who supplies her persimmons stock,” he tips his hat some, standing back as you duck into your car, rolling your eyes. 

  however, he can tell the way you do it is sarcastic, that there’s a little worm named kita who had entered your mind. he watches as you drive off with a dust cloud behind you, already holding the picture of you in his mind. the way the sunglasses framed your face, the movie star look that you held. it felt a little too good to be true, the way someone like you talked to someone like him. 

  there was something so different about you, kita being so used to the country appearances of his neighbors. but not just that, it’s the way you joined in, made a joke of your own. for him, it’s like you could be the yin to his yang. he grabs his hat, turning around to toss it into the back of his truck. quickly wondering how he could’ve missed your name.

  something so critical, your name. and yet he was so enamored by your very being that he couldn’t remember to ask for something as simple as that. when he looks back up, your car is already past the light. and he knows that his old truck could never catch up with yours, especially with that bin of persimmons resting on top.

  sitting back down in his seat, he rests his foot on his other knee, leaning his head back. a trail of sweat runs from his forehead to his neck, his mind wracking with slight embarrassment. believing you likely didn’t actually like him, that his words were just a little too forward, attitude just a little too ‘farmer’ for you. grabbing the almanac, he shakes his head slightly. 

  while bringing his hand up and rubbing his face, he looks up, taking in a deep breath. just as he’s about to open up the almanac and wish that that had never happened, he hears the roar of an engine coming from a distance. staring out at the car, kita wonders if the heat is finally getting to him, if that’s really your car. 

  as it turns into his long driveway, he can see that it’s you. the woman of his dreams, if he’s entirely honest. you stop the car near his, stepping out with a glass of what he can only believe is green tea. “i went past the caution light, found my way to ms. yamada. and, she vouches for you, and your persimmons,” you walk back to your trunk, setting your drink down.

  “figured i just had to come back and give one a taste, what do you think, mr…?”

  “kita, shinsuke. and i think they’re just about ripe for the picking, plus first few on the house for a beautiful woman,” he leans against his truck bed, a small smile tickling at his lips. 

a/n: if you want a similar vibe please check out @nectardaddy’s ‘88 ford

[zillifurniture]

Sleep in Style: Graphite Queen Bed – Modern Elegance and Comfort by Zilli Furniture

Indulge in the perfect blend of contemporary design and comfort with our Graphite Queen Bed. Crafted to captivate, this bed features a sleek frame, plush upholstery, and impeccable detailing. Elevate your bedroom ambiance with the modern allure of the Graphite Queen Bed from Zilli Furniture. Transform your nightly retreat into a haven of style and relaxation, where sophistication meets serenity.

[ant0nsfirstluv]

Can we stay this close forever ?

SFW starring: wonbin 원빈 x fem reader [Light Angst + Fluff]

summary: wonbin and you have been dating for 2 months. so early into the relationship wonbin hesitates to be vulnerable but a thunderstorm and your comfort towards him changes this.

More under the cut

Everybody, including himself…including you, knows that Wonbin isn’t necessarily the bravest guy around.

Despite Wonbin’s charismatic cool image..he simply can’t help his fears. He HATES anything scary, sudden, and suspenseful. You found this out in the beginning of your relationship; once he slowly but surely started letting you in and opening up about himself…

….fast daring rides, haunted houses, thriller movies, and anything else that he finds scary is to be avoided. Which is pretty easy in his book. Don’t watch the movies..don’t get on tall fast rides, avoid the lotte world ghost house in October etc etc it’s simple.

However, not every scary thing is avoidable especially if it’s something as natural and inevitable as the weather.

Thunderstorms.

Usually they just startle him and give him a sense of unease. But this storm was different. The sky was an ugly opaque grey with barely any slivers of sun shining through. The thunder was clamorous and unexpectedly rolled across the sky .

His hands were clammy, arms laced with goosebumps while another flash of lightening tore through the sky followed with a deep roll of thunder that made him flinch.

“Wonbin..hey are you ok..is everything alright ?” You say walking into the living room to find him staring at the storm through the sliding door. He finally turns to you and shakes his head before saying “Yea im just a bit startled.” He said heading to the kitchen.

You head in too to get yourself a snack and see Wonbin putting away the ingredients he used for lunch earlier but pausing and seeming super unnerved everytime the storm grows angrier. You can tell he’s scared.

“‘Bin can we go to your room.” You suggest tapping his shoulder. He seems tempted but looks back at the things he still needs to put away. “Don’t worry let’s just chill for a bit THEN you can clean.” He looks back one more time before accepting the offer. “If Sungchan scolds me I’m going to block yo-” You roll your eyes before linking arms and walking to the room. “Bro literally lives at the gym plus as long as we don’t nap we’ll be fine.”

You two sit on his bed chatting about your days. You laugh at Wonbin telling you about Anton getting on the wrong subway 3 times in a row and you show him clothes that just dropped from you two’s favorite clothing brand.

“God it’s fucking freezing in here.” he complains running his hand through his hair leaning back. “Babe just come closer, there’s enough cover.” He hesitates before realizing how warm you look..in his long sleeve and some stylish pajama pants.

He scoots a bit closer. Landing a hand on yours to soothe the jitters running through his body. Laying side by side you indulge in your phones, he grips your hand tighter anytime the storm gets hectic. Soon he takes his eyes from his phone and you catch his eye like you always did a hundred times before.

He can’t help but stare. The way your hair frames your face so well,,he subconsciously starts playing with it eyes locked on you as if he was stuck. The attentive look you give your phone while gently smiling, the pleasantly sweet wafts of your perfume that he could recognize from miles away, the mellifluous sound of your laughter that makes him crack a smile and start cheesing himself.

Wonbin realizes that the storm has heaved itself through the leaden sky the majority of time he’s laid with you, but he’s been calm..even with thunder still tearing with its heavy booming that had him sweating bullets earlier.

Closer. He wants to feel your presence even further, your heart alongside his. he gives into this and taps you on your shoulder turning your head to meet eyes with him.

His eyes are so bright like a full moon, pink lips pressed into a line but then blooming into a smile. “Come closer.” He said opening his arms. You carefully move closer while he pulls you onto him, almost chest to chest while your head rests on his shoulders.

You can smell his cologne, and see his structured face from below. His arm snakes it’s way onto your back, tapping it and occasionally caressing across your shoulder blades. Your heart melts leading you to stare at him with heart eyes.

A moment of silence of you adoring each other. He can feel his heart swell. Staying quiet he listens to the sound of your heartbeats making a rhythm following after each other. Those closeness and warmth..can’t be duplicated.

It’s as if the storm has been muted, his mind cleared and anxieties washed away. The hum of the video you were watching goes noticed when he realizes you fell asleep. He kisses the top of your head feeling his eyes grow heavy as well and then dozed off alongside you.

Praying you two can stay this close forever.

.

.

.

“Sungchans def going to get me but it’s worth it.”

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something short and sweet since I literally disappeared also I opened my asksss everyoneee so go ahead and send things in if you want 💥

[simmerkate]

Nordic Dream Kids Room Set

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[aloysiavirgata]

(if you are accepting prompts!) what iffffff you wrote a soft gentle little fic in which Scully has a spectacularly unlovely head cold and after some grouching Mulder looks after her? There are so many moments of peril on x files that sometimes it’s nice when the enemy is just a simple rhinovirus, lol.

He doesn’t even attempt to make it himself. Calls ahead to Loeb’s with his order, which he accepts from a stylish young Mexican man whose name tag reads Pierre.

“A sheynem dank,” Mulder says, echoing the grandmother who called Samantha a shaineh maideleh.

Pierre nods. “Bitte, baby,” he says. “De nada.”

***

Mulder clomps up her stairs with Puritan determination. He feels that since he did not cook the food himself he must exert some other effort for it. His soul is at eternal war with itself.

He doesn’t knock; lets himself in with the Home Depot key Scully had made for him around the time that Tooms wanted into her pants for all the wrong reasons. It sticks a little still, even after so many years. He’s rarely had to use it - when aren’t they together?

A hacking noise from her bedroom, something wet being coughed. Spat.

Mulder helps himself to a bowl, a plate, a spoon.

“I’b arbed,” she rasps from down the hall. “I’b a Federal Agent.”

“Don’t shoot,” Mulder calls back, hunting down a napkin. “I am a poor boy from a poor family.” Her mother wears Revlon and his wears Guerlain.

He tips some soup and two of the matzo balls into a bowl, wedges one of the challah rolls next to it. He puts the leftovers in the fridge.

Mulder carries the plate down the hall, the nearly-full bowl sloshing dangerously atop.

He enters Scully’s bedroom. She’s been upgrading over the past couple of years, replacing her IKEA basics with good secondhand finds in cherry and walnut. The candle she’s lit smells like white flowers with thick, creamy petals.

Scully is tucked into bed like an Austen heroine, all delicate pallor and genteel unhappiness. Her nose is pink-tipped and raw, hair in a ponytail. She’s wearing a gray sweatshirt instead of her usual pajamas.

Mulder sets the food down on her nightstand, next to a vase of dried roses and her Yaqui slide holster. A speed loader. There’s a well-framed Monet print over the bed.

Pat Conroy’s Beach Music is open face down on her lap, surrounded by crumpled tissues. She doesn’t look happy to see him, her purple-shadowed eyes narrowing a bit.

“Go away,” she says. Sneezes.

“Brought you some soup,” he says, unnecessarily. Points at it, also unnecessarily.

“Bulder,” she sniffs. “Go hobe. I don’t like being fussed over. I hab a cold, dot Ebola.”

“Too bad,” he says. “I’m going to. Do you have Vick’s Vapor Rub? You really should have Vick’s Vapor Rub.”

She closes her eyes. Pinches the bridge of her nose, centering herself. “It’s dot your fault I’b sick,” she says, looking back over at him after a moment.

“I dragged you into the woods again. You fell down a hole full of corpses! You’ve been in remission for like…twenty minutes.” He jabs the spoon at her.

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t get a cold frob being in the woods. Or frob being chilly. You get a cold frob a virus.”

He feigns outrage. “Excuse me, but are you contradicting noted excellent mother-slash-world-class-epidemiologist Doctor Teena Mulder MD?”

This sends Scully into a flurry of coughing. She swats at him in annoyance. “Ugh,” she says at last. “You see why I can’t hab you here, you’re a lousy durse.”

Mulder takes her hand, pale as a kid glove. He shoves the spoon into it, squeezes her fingers about the handle. “Eat the soup or I’m calling your mom. I’m calling BILL.”

She narrows her eyes again. “You wouldn’t.”

“I think you’re well aware that I’m capable of being overly dramatic when the wind is southerly and the fancy strikes.” He holds the plate before her like an offering to a goddess.

Scully considers him. “You did get us out ob the teabwork sebidar,” she observes. “Techdically.”

“I did,” he agrees.

“You bade be sing,” she adds. Reproachful.

He grins. “The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two.”

Scully looks at the spoon in her hand for the first time, as though wondering how it got there.

“Byron,” she says, a little smile. She picks up the roll, examines it. Peers at the soup. Sneezes again. “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”

“Caroline Lamb,”Mulder replies. He doesn’t point out that Caroline Lamb had been Byron’s lover, that she’d sent him a clipping of her pubic hair in the mail. He certainly doesn’t think of the juncture between Scully’s thighs at all, whether it matches the drapes, whether it tastes like kettle corn and Vineyard whitecaps in July. Lobster rolls and saltwater taffy.

He’d meant it, about the sleeping bag. He wishes there had been a sleeping bag and he is so, so grateful there was no sleeping bag.

Scully sniffles again, defeated. “You got be batzo ball soup?”

He thumbs an escaped tendril of hair back from the sweep of her extraordinary cheekbone.

“I did,” he murmurs back. He sets the plate down between them. He peels the roll open, yeasty and fragrant, and dunks it into the golden broth.

He raises it to her mouth.

Scully sucks at it, draws it past her lips. She bites. Chews, swallows. She holds his eyes with hers. She catches an escaped droplet with her tongue.

“Good,” she mumbles. Watches him dip the dry part back into the bowl. “Thank you.”

He feeds her another bite. Her mouth opens like a snapdragon, like an oyster in the tide. She drops her gaze this time. Her guard.

They complete the entire roll this way, and one matzo ball. Silent, slurpy. Scully’s lids droop, her lashes brushing her cheeks.

“Sleepy,” she mumbles, curling onto her side. Her paperback falls to the floor.

Mulder returns the food to the night table. He strokes her hair until she’s out cold, snoring a little. He curls into the bed as well, his nose to hers. He touches her philtrum with his pointer finger. He traces the tender pink whelk of her ear.

They sleep for hours until she coughs awake, gasping, her thin chest heaving. Mulder rubs circles between her scapulae.

“Go hobe,” she says, knees drawn, leaning against his chest. “You deed to sleep.”

He puts his arms around her, drops a kiss on her tangled head. “Okay,” he agrees.

She’s out again in moments. He holds her upright until he drifts off as well.

They sleep until morning. He feeds her soup for breakfast, calls into work with a case of Ebola.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Hi. I hope your day is being kind to you. 🙂

For the sentence Ask?

"My ears miss your heartbeat."

With Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) please? If you want.

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

A/N: Sorry, this went well over an extra 5 sentences. I guess I really just needed to write.

Warning: Tooth rotting domestic fluff

Word Count: 1.1K

Astarion didn’t make a sound as he slipped through the front door, stilling the bell with his hand before it could alert anyone to his presence.

The shop was completely empty, which would not be unusual at this time of night were it any other shop in town. The owner kept odd hours, not opening until well after sunset, the exception being when his wife managed to stumble down the stairs past noon to take orders. An odd set up, but nobody could deny the craftsmanship and so there was little to grumble about.

Astarion moved through the space with practiced ease, not bothering to light a candle as he moved towards the back room and up a small flight of stairs. He did not so much glance at the rolls of golden thread, or dig around the drawers for where he knew a small fortune of gems and finery could be found and easily pocketed. Such treasures were far from his mind at that moment.

Jumping the last few steps, he easily avoided the small creak of the second to top panel before deftly maneuvering his way through the waiting door.

The barest breath of relief escaped his lips. The entryway was completely dark, only just illuminated by the street lanterns peaking through the barest sliver of heavy curtains. Once again his dark vision proved a blessing as he took a quick look around.

The room was empty of anything other than comfortable but undeniably stylish furniture and the lines of bookshelves full bear to bursting along the walls. He slipped off his boots, placing them gently near the door making it almost comical how silently he could move along the beautifully embroidered rug. It felt like cheating, but then again, since when was he above cheating.

One final door lay in front of him. At his feet he could see the smallest flicker of candle light peaking out from below the door frame. Somebody was still up.

With a grin, he turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open.

It was moments like these that cause Astarion to lament not having a more artistic hand. The being before him deserved to be preserved in oils and canvass, marble and stone.

She did not notice him come in. Her clear blue eyes were focused intensely on the page in front of her, her finger moving slowly under the words while her soft lips mouthed them in time. Her hair lay loose about her, a few strands tucked behind her ear. Astarion could just catch the barest hints of white hiding in the field of black, something she would no doubt deny the existence of if he pointed them out. Her dark olive skin seemed to glow in the firelight, but the final detail that make his unbeating heart stir was the fact she was dressed only in his shirt.

On second thought, maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t a painter. He didn’t much like the thought of anyone else gazing on this image but him.

“Hello darling,” he said, softly.

Evie’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide in alarm as her hand gripped the book in her hand as of to throw it. As soon as he caught the quick progression of fear to recognition to annoyance slip across her face he let out a laugh.

“Milil’s tongue Astarion,” she grumbled, snapping her book shut. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“Just be happy I’m the one doing it,” he teased, setting down his bag beside the door. “You’re getting slow my love.”

She gave a small pout, but still rolled onto her back, opening her arms to him.

He didn’t need further incentive, launching himself onto the bed causing them both to bounce and his love to laugh. Gods he missed that sound. However, he decided he missed her lips more, kissing her soundly as they both sunk into the too soft mattress.

“Good trip then?” she asked in between his attentions to her mouth.

“Tedious,” he corrected. “Better if you were there.”

“Well if it was so tedious I’m glad I skipped it.”

Astarion gave a huff of annoyance moving his lips across her face and jaw and down towards her neck. He took a deep breath in, the musk of her skin mixing with the perfume of her blood pulsing just below. He could drown in that scent.

“Hungry,” she asked, turning her neck slightly in invitation.

He shook his head pressing a kiss against the fading scars.

“No need darling, just enjoying being home.”

He didn’t need to look up to know she was smiling. He could feel it in the way her hands rubbed up and down his back and brushed the stray hairs at the back of his neck. All the same, he decided to look anyway.

This was his home. Even all these years later, he still had a hard time believing it. He and Evie had all but hung up their adventuring gear and settled in a town just big enough to justify a fine tailor shop. The occasional helpless damsel or bandit gang causing trouble could pull them from their daily routines, but little else. They were both getting older and ready for a place to call their own, something that was denied to them for so long. Even stranger and more wonderful still, Evie had agreed to marry him.

She brushed a stray hair back from his forehead, her fingers tracing down his face before teasing the edge of his ear.

“I missed you, too,” she said, her full love only just tempered by a hint of humor.

He didn’t have the strength to pull away from that perfect touch, and settled kissing her sternum in response.

“I did plenty more than just miss you darling,” he confessed. “There are too many parts of me that miss too many parts of you.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “For example, my lips missed your lips quite a bit.”

“I gathered,” she said with a barely contained laugh. “What else?”

“My hair missed your fingers.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement as her hand moved slightly up, allowing her fingers to comb slowly through his hair.

Astarion sighed in contentment, settling his head to rest comfortably on her chest.

“Go on my love,” Evie encouraged. “Don’t stop now.”

“My arms missed your warmth,” he said, wrapping himself tighter around her for emphasis. “My nose missed your smell. But if I really had to name it, my ears missed your heart beat the most.”

“And you say you’re not a sentimental,” she teased.

“Exceptions are always made for you my heart.”

She hummed in acknowledgment settling into the sheets, her fingers still running soothingly through his hair.

Astarion feel asleep in her arms as he had done for countless nights and hopefully countless more; safe, loved and truly home.

[satoruuswife]

𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕

——————————————————————————

Pairings: gojo x suguru's sister fem!reader

Cw: fluff ,angst?(Idk if it can be considered angst,the ending)

~ requested, i really liked writing this but i was on a time crunch so im sorry its short, it my first time posting something i wrote so im sorry if its bad <3

-synopsis: gojo satoru was your brother's bestfriend, he was good looking ,witty and flirty for the most part,you were both attracted to each other and suguru knew nothing about it, today he was coming over for a barbeque night ,lets see what the future holds for you<3

——————————————————————————

The evening breeze gently swayed the leaves as Satoru made his way to his best friend Suguru's house. It was time for their monthly barbeque, a cherished tradition that Satoru eagerly anticipated. As he reached the familiar front door, he could hear the sound of laughter and music coming from the backyard.

When Satoru stepped into the yard, he was greeted by the lively scene of Suguru's family and friends gathered around a fire pit. Suguru was tending to the grill, his face lighting up with a welcoming smile when he saw Satoru. As Satoru looked around, his gaze settled on Y/N, Suguru's sister, who was busy setting up snacks on a nearby table.

Y/N's hair was styled in a loose bun, and she wore a comfortable yet stylish sweater. Satoru couldn't help but notice how at ease she seemed, moving gracefully as she arranged the snacks with her delicate hands.

“no Satoru, she is off limits”, he thought to himself as he sat down in Suguru’s family circle and began greeting everyone. Throughout the evening, he caught himself subconsciously glancing at her and mentally cursed himself for doing so, that is until towards the end of the night, as the party began to get in full swing, he caught y/n sneaking glances at him and felt butterflies as both of them hurriedly looked away after getting caught by the other.

Later that evening, Satoru found himself at Y/N's bedroom door after receiving a message from her asking him to come up. He took a moment to steady himself, wondering what she might want to talk about. He knocked gently on the door.

"Come in," Y/N's voice called out, her tone inviting. with a smirk, Satoru turned the doorknob and entered the room, closing the door behind him.

As he stepped inside, he took in the cozy ambience of Y/N's room. Soft lighting bathed the space, and a hint of her favourite floral scent lingered in the air. His gaze found Y/N standing in front of a mirror, adjusting her clothes. She seemed relaxed, yet there was an air of anticipation about her.

"You called?" Satoru asked, his voice soft as he approached her. Y/N turned to face him, her eyes locking onto his with a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something," she replied, gesturing for him to sit down. Satoru took a seat on the edge of her bed, his curiosity piqued by her confusing expression.

Y/N turned back to the mirror for a moment, making a final adjustment to her attire before turning fully toward Satoru. "Thanks for coming up. It's been nice hanging out tonight, but there's something I wanted to discuss with you, alone," she began, her voice sincere.

Satoru gulps and nods, his smirk fading, ushering her to continue as the room fills with deafening silence, and his gaze locked onto her back, “I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now” she says as she turns around to face him, making eye contact with his delicate blues, Satoru feels himself grow a little blush at the eye contact but doesn't break it, “continue” he says,

walking closer y/n looks at him with a look of determination in her eyes and a smirk, standing up, Satoru looks down at her small frame approaching him and feels his heart racing.

standing in front of him, Y/N met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Satoru couldn't help but admire the way she carried herself with elegance He took a small step closer, closing the distance between them.

Bending down slightly, Satoru leaned in close to Y/N, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You know, you have a way of making my heart race." His voice was low and smooth, carrying a hint of playful teasing.

Y/N's breath caught at his words, a slight smile playing on her lips. The proximity of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she could feel her cheeks warm at his unexpected admission.

Taking the moment into her own hands, Y/N reached up and placed her hand gently on Satoru's cheek. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes locked with his, and then she closed the gap between them, her lips meeting his in a soft, tender kiss.

The touch of Y/N's lips sent a surge of warmth through Satoru. He responded eagerly, his hands finding their way to her waist as he leaned into the kiss. It was a sweet, lingering moment, filled with a sense of mutual exploration and a growing connection between them.

Y/N's kiss was both gentle and purposeful, conveying the depth of her feelings and the anticipation of what this moment could mean for their relationship. Satoru's heart raced, and he couldn't help but lose himself in the sensation of the kiss, savouring the taste of her lips and the warmth of her touch.

As they finally parted, their foreheads rested gently against each other, both of them catching their breath. Y/N's eyes sparkled with a newfound closeness, while Satoru's smile spoke of a moment he wouldn't soon forget. The kiss had marked the beginning of something new, and both of them knew it.

The kiss had been a tender moment of connection, leaving both Satoru and Y/N breathless. But as they pulled apart, Satoru's expression suddenly changed. His eyes widened slightly, and his face dropped, a hint of panic creeping into his features.

"What if Suguru finds out about this?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. Satoru stepped away from Y/N, creating a distance between them as he abruptly turned and sat down on her bed. He buried his head in his hands, overwhelmed by the thought of how his best friend might react.

Y/N's heart sank at the sight of Satoru's distress. She hadn't considered the impact their kiss might have on his relationship with Suguru, but seeing his reaction, she realized it weighed heavily on him. With a gentle but determined expression, Y/N stepped closer to Satoru and knelt in front of him.

"Y/N, we can't do this," Satoru said, his voice filled with uncertainty and regret. He lifted his head slightly, and she could see the inner conflict in his eyes.

Y/N reached out and placed her fingers under Satoru's chin, tilting his face up to meet her gaze. Her touch was tender, a reassuring gesture meant to calm his fears. " Satoru," she said softly, "He won't find out if we don't tell him. It will be our little secret."

Part 2?😭?

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[its-still-cuppi-cakes]

I have a few personal hcs of Guy that I'd like to share

(Some I have adopted from others that I've found on here, but I will have my opinion on them)

Guy is a huge starwars and avengers nerd. He probably has many action figures, clothes and merch of the characters in his room before honey and him started dating. I feel like the terrible roommate they had once messed around with them as a "joke" and Honey called her out on it and made her apologize for it. And pay for any of the damages she caused.

He. Needs. To wear. Glasses. But he doesn't like wearing them because of how they feel on his nose so he wears contacts. He does wear them when he's writing though! And he looks good too. He probably has those ones where it's prescription and bluelight. And an all around black frame.

He's a lego builder! He also collects Starwars and Avengers lego sets. And some other types of sets that he thinks looks cool.

He has a caffeine addiction. He drinks so much caffeine Honey has made it a rule where he can only have two cups/cans of caffeine each day. Which is a lot better than 5.

Has hair ties/hair clips for himself because his hair gets in the way when he's looking down to write, type on his phone or work.

Has pins on his apron for work. One says "My pronouns are he/him" and anytime someone comments about it, he just says "Well I am an English/creative writing major so pronouns are important to me." Just to make them mad.

Is called "Son" by Max, his boss. Idk why but I feel like Max loves him like his own. Has called him "Dad" by accident. Now him and Rosa call him "Papa Max" as a joke.

I feel like he forgets his lunch a lot and Honey brings it to him, claiming they're gonna stop and let him starve, but never actually does stop because they like seeing his face when they have his starwars lunch box at hand as they walk through the door.

Has bad acne that Honey helps him take care of. They definitely have skin care date nights. They do have matching skin care headbands.

Can be very stylish. But chooses not to. He likes wearing tshirts and jeans all the time.

Reads before bed. Reads to Honey to help them sleep. Reads. (Someone plz draw Guy reading the hobbit)

Thank you for coming to my ted talk. I'm so normal about Guy. Goodnight.