#always remember the baking powder

[nil-the-glitch]

actually yknow what, no. this is not being limited to discord, yall get it too.

some general cooking tips (in which there is a brief senshi posession):

moisture is the enemy of crispy skin. pat dry with paper towel, and if you have the time and spoons, give a thorough but even coat of baking powder and let sit uncovered in your fridge overnight. this will dry out the skin nicely. for pork belly, create a tight foil boat so that only the skin is showing, and cover in salt to draw out moisture, repeating a couple times if necessary.

furikake seasoning, for the fellow rice lovers, is just nori (seaweed), sesame seeds, sugar, and msg/salt. you might have most if not all of these things already in your kitchen.

chai spice mix is just cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, & allspice.

pumpkin spice is just cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.

to cure your own bacon, you only need water, white and brown sugar, and a non-iodized salt - himalayan pink salt is not iodized, if you cannot find butchers curing pink salt. from there, you can add any seasoning/flavoring you want.

the truly adventurous may cook their rice in green tea for a fresh clean taste.

you can tell if a fish is truly fresh by their eyes - clear and bright is fresh, while cloudy is older or potentially has been frozen.

it's cheaper to buy a large block pack of ramen from your local asian market and repackage the bricks into sandwich bags, than to buy a box of individually packaged ones such as maruchan or top ramen.

when buying meat, look at it's fat content - more fat marbling usually means more tender + flavorful.

you can save onion skins and other vegetable scraps to make your own broth with. you can also save bones for this. mix and match ratios to create your ideal flavor.

bay leaf will always make a soup or broth taste better, but Watch Out (they are not fun to bite into on accident).

msg is, in fact, not The Devil, that was just a racist hate campaign against the chinese and other oriental races. it's literally just a type of salt. it is no more dangerous to eat than any other type of salt.

washing your rice is important because it not only improves flavor and texture by removing excess starch, but it also helps reduce any residual pesticides or dirt, or even insect fragments (please remember that rice paddies are essentially giant ponds that all kind of things live in and swim around. you should also be washing all your produce in general.)

please salt your cooking water for pastas, it just tastes better and you will be happier for it.

boiled potatoes are also improved by salt water.

if you hate vegetables, please consider trying them fried in butter or perhaps bacon grease. it is healthier to eat them fatty than not at all.

healthy food does not in fact have to taste miserable. thats a lie. they are lying to you. free yourself from your blandness shackles. enter a world of flavor.

[yeonjuns-beanie]

As It Was

warnings: 18+, weed usage, smut, unprotected sex, soulmate au(kind of), little hatefuckin before real fucking, reader is a brat, mentions of suicide, oral(f receiving, logan is an EATER), claws come out when he…, little bit of primal play, breeding kink, daddy kink, implied age gap cuz i think it’s hot, im prolly gonna write him like an animal, think that’s it!! LOL

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: after saving his world from extinction, wade brings home a wolverine. you feel a tether to him but can't quite figure out what it is, but logan does. as the days go by you slowly chip away at the wall between you two and things slowly return to as it was.

word count: 4.5k

title is inspired by the hozier song of the same name....

It’s been three months now and you still couldn’t figure out the pull you felt toward Logan. The moment Wade brought him through the door, Mary Puppins in hand, you felt a tie to him. Now, it was as if the Red String of Fate was punishing you for not remembering your connection with him. It was haunting, aggravating, and pushing you towards sexual frustration because no matter how much you tried to remember, your thoughts would instantly become clouded with your attraction to him. He was brooding, grumpy, and humorous when he wanted to. The stoic exterior of him was just that, a shell. You just weren’t quite sure how to crack his nut yet.

You were sat in the main room of the apartment grinding up some green to pack a morning bowl. As you were getting ready to fill the glass you heard Wade’s voice echo through the apartment.

“You always grind Aunt Mary so hard. Don’t you think she would like to be loved tenderly, sugarbear?”

“And the last time I gave you the grinder there might as well have been a whole nug in the bowl. You damn near burned half my stash.”

“You’d think living with three addicts would be fun, but it’s more like babysitting toddlers fighting to see who can ruin my day first. Spoiler: it’s everyone.”

You chuckled, slotting the bowl into the joint of the bong, and pointed at Wade with it.

“You wanna hit this or not?”

“‘Course I do. How could I pass up a wake n bake with my girl?”

Wade jogged over to you, plopping dramatically on the seat next to you. Rolling your eyes, you took the first hit letting Wade finish off the remaining smoke in the shaft. Exhaling you spoke while the smoke billowed out of your mouth.

“Wade, baby, I love you, but I’m not your girl. What about Nessa?”

Before he spoke, he had his coughing fit like clockwork. Every time, no matter the method, resulted in a cough so bad he looked like a drooling dog. It was free entertainment but you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud because every time you did, it made it worse.

You couldn’t hold it

It was like watching a court jester and when Wade finally caught his breath he was staring off at a wall in the apartment mindlessly reaching for the glass. When his hand was left fondling the air reaching nothing, you let your laugh echo through the apartment.

“You sure you want another one?”

“Just gimme the weed, gorgeous. And to answer your question. Vanessa and I are on a break of sorts, but I’m wounded that I now have lost you too. It’s cause I brought Peanut here isn’t it?”

Wade was feigning heartbreak, just busting your balls in an effort to see if you’d crack. Your relationship was always like this and that was probably why you two got along so well. Nothing was ever too serious and yet still completely vulnerable. As wild as he was, Wade was a safe space for you and for some reason this morning, you felt like sharing.

“Perhaps.”

His head whipped so fast you thought it’d fly off. Coupled with his dramatic gasp and chest grab you nearly regretted your admission.

“I knew it!”

“Will you keep it down, it’s not that serious.”

“Au contraire. This is probably the most serious thing since Blind Al ran out of Peruvian marching powder.”

Rolling your eyes, you swallowed your pride as you knew Wade wouldn’t let it go until you told him every detail possible. As much as you pretended you hated divulging this information, it was kinda nice to let out to somebody. You’d been wrestling with so many feelings since Wade brought Logan to stay with you guys and the weight of it was becoming painful.

“Well, he’s hot obviously.”

“Tell me something more interesting, we all disrespectfully gawk at the honey badger.” Wade quipped.

“The problem is I feel this weird attachment to him. Like I’ve known him before. Maybe we met before they tried their best to wipe my memory, but I can’t shake this one. I’m drawn to him but he won’t let anyone get close enough to figure that out.”

You had your own run-in with the TVA a few years ago and instead of dumping you into the void, they were nice enough to plop you in Earth-10005. You were grateful considering the stories of this barren garbage heap that Wade and Logan told you about but you couldn’t remember why they sent you here in the first place.

You had no real memory of your life before this or what you did that fucked you up so badly. It always haunted you. Maybe you were a murderer. A merciless killer and that’s why they snagged you. A similar fate to Wade’s but they decided somewhere that you weren’t equipped for the job and the TVA orphaned you to another universe.

You weren’t complaining, you loved the life that you had now you just wanted to remember the rest of you. You were roaming this universe, a husk of your former self and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you, it did. It kept you up at night. Until Logan walked through the apartment door.

Slowly, things started to reveal themselves to you but only in a dream. You were forced to piece together your life with the shattered fragments of what your dreamscape gave you to work with. You’d wake up from the most vivid dreams only to remember one instance where you were walking down a street, the sky pouring rain in a godly attempt to cleanse you. Your hands were always coated in crimson when you looked down.

It’d come in flashes and it’d end just as fast. You were patient with yourself but a lot of times you tried to drown out the feeling with various substances. Weed being your vice of choice as alcohol made you suffer. Making you wish that an attempt of self-mutilation or the bittersweet release of dancing with death while your wrists stained the floor garnet succeeded.

They never did.

So you tried your best to make peace with your life and you were doing alright until Logan showed up. Now the universe was mocking you. Testing to see if you’d slip up and forget everything you learned.

“I think he’d like to figure you out, y/n. Do with that what you will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wade shrugged his shoulders handing you the bong back. As he stood up you took one last hit and left the glass piece on the table. As you exhaled, Logan’s voice pierced through the silence.

“Jesus. D’ya have to stink up the apartment with that shit? Can’t go outside?”

“Easy, peanut. The art of the wake n bake is sacred. Plus, talk to the gardener if you have requests to make, not me.”

Wade pointed to you as he wandered off into the kitchen and you reached for the bong motioning it to Logan.

“Wanna hit?”

Logan hit you with a short ‘no’ and it almost hurt your feelings. Your gaze flicked over to Wade who was mouthing to you something you couldn’t quite make out but he was pointing to Logan while doing it. Your brain spazzed for a moment before coming up with a response as you stood.

“You want coffee or something, Lo?”

“Sure, kid.”

You walked into the kitchen with Wade and started whispering to him.

“What the fuck? Of course, he comes out while I’m blowing up the house.”

“I don’t see why you’re worried, he doesn’t seem upset.”

You turned around trying your best not to look suspicious.

“Yes, the fuck he does. I’m gonna fuck this up before I even get the chance to start-”

“-You two morons know I can hear you, right?”

You hung your head in defeat finishing up the two cups before setting one in front of Logan and holding yours while you stood. The air was thick, but not uncomfortable. It just felt like everyone needed to get something off their chest and didn’t know how to start. Before you opened your mouth to speak, Wade’s voice cut you off while he sent a text message.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you lovebirds to it. I’ve got a pegging date.”

Again. Mocking you. The universe seemed to just have it out for you and apparently, today was the day of honesty. You took a seat across from Logan wondering where to direct the conversation.

“You hungry? I can make us something.”

“I’m alright kid, not too keen on stoner food in the morning.”

“Hey, I’m still a good cook when I’m cooked. I just wanted to offer.” You paused.

“Also if you have a problem with it, I’ll find a new spot. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“No need. Just giving you guys a hard time. We all have something to cope with our shit.”

You nodded knowing he was referencing his drinking habit, or problem if we were feeling honest. You left your coffee cup on the table and stood up, wanting to Irish goodbye in your own home. But you didn’t want to add any more bricks to this wall even though it felt like the silence was already doing so.

“Well, um. I’m gonna chill out for a bit in my room if you need anything.”

He hummed to let you know he heard you and you walked down the hallway to your bedroom before stopping in your tracks. Something possessed you and you had to get this out. The test was walking away and if you finished that journey into your bedroom and locked the door, nothing would be resolved. Turning on your heel, you walked back into the kitchen and faced Logan.

“Why do you hate me?”

He nearly choked on his coffee, the noise echoing in the cup.

“What?”

You sighed, trying to not feel silly about your admission.

“Why do you hate me? And if you don’t, why do you act like it? It’s so hard to get through to you and it feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall.”

“Kid-”

“And stop ‘kid’ing me! If it’s out of endearment it doesn’t feel like it.”

Your heart rate was rising and you could feel your skin getting hot. The months of pent up emotions were finally boiling over and you couldn’t stop it. You needed to know why.

“What is it then, y/n?”

“Why can’t I get through to you? Every time I try, you shut me down by being curt with me and I’m left with the same feeling as before. I can’t shake this feeling that I know you and I can’t even get close to you without you shoving me away like I have a fatal disease. So why, Logan? All I wanna know is why?”

He sighed knowing there was no easy way to escape this.

“Kid–sorry. It’s complicated. I know that feeling. I feel it too, but I know why it’s there and I don’t want to fuck it up again.”

Again?

“What do you mean again?”

Logan sighed and said nothing. Hanging his head in what you thought was shame but most definitely could be avoidance. It frustrated you even more so because why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Here we go again, nothing?! Is it so hard to just say what this is?”

“It’s not that simple, bub.”

You scoffed and turned around to walk to your room. You needed to clear your head because it was more than apparent that a solution would not be provided for you. Logan didn’t have the courage to reveal what he knew so a walk away from him would have to suffice.

“Y/n! Where are you going?”

“I need to clear my head since obviously you don’t have the gall to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Slipping your shoes on, you tried to move past Logan but he was blocking the doorway.

“Move.”

“Y/n. Just-”

“I said move, Logan.”

One wall after another you kept hitting, except this one was physically him. He nearly filled up the doorway and his frame was imposing. You tried to figure out how you’d slip past him but you were so heated that you were about to settle for dramatics before he moved his body just enough for you to slip past. You stared at him, looking for something in his eyes to tell you to stay but it just made you more irritated. You walked down the hallway and almost made it to the door before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist.

“Do you get a kick out of torturing me or something?”

“Sweetheart, if you just—just sit down and let me say what I need to say.”

“Oh, now you wanna fucking talk. Let go of me. I’m not in the mood to talk anymore.”

Logan’s grip on you tightened as you struggled against him and you pushed on his chest trying to get him off of you. He was stunned by your actions and so were you but you couldn’t stop. You kept pushing him away from you until he grabbed your upper arms stabilizing you but you still were pressing your hands against his chest. He was calling your name trying to calm you down but you were too lost in your emotions. You thrashed your head up, trying to plead with him silently to let you go even though you knew that was the last thing you wanted.

When your eyes met his, one of his hands cradled the back of your head and before you could register it, his lips were slotted against yours in a moment of desire and exasperation. Bated breath, fury, and sexual confusion fueled the kiss but you’d be a liar to say you didn’t enjoy this feeling. His body flesh against yours, the heat bouncing between the two of you nearly suffocating and it had only been seconds. Logan had you pressed against the wall his hands roaming the curves of your body and his knee slotted itself in between your thighs, completely caging you against him.

He pushed his knee up into the apex of your thighs applying a delicate pressure to your center. You moaned against him, your body rolling your hips into the feeling. His hands were roaming over your body in a frenzy, like if he didn’t touch you fast enough you’d disappear. Your hands wrapped into his hair, pulling on his sandy brown locks as you tried to stabilize yourself into the feeling.

Logan pulled away from you, a string of spit the only thing left connecting you two until it broke and you felt the cold air vaporize the heat on your swollen lips. You were staring at his features, locked in his gaze hoping that if you didn’t break eye contact he’d stay right here. His gruff voice broke the heady silence.

“Since you wanna be a brat and not talk anymore, I have no choice but to show you how I feel, sugar.”

Logan slid his hands down until they were underneath the swell of your ass and told you to jump. As your legs wrapped around his waist, he walked down the hallway to your room. His senses were incredibly heightened at this moment and when he breached the threshold of your room, he was intoxicated by the smell of you swirling the room.

As he laid you down on your bed, your scent wafted off of the sheets with a gentle breeze and he was soon surrounded by a nest of you and your arousal. He prowled over your body, taking you in and memorizing every inch of you, how you were restless against him, and how your lower half mindlessly moved against him in desperate need of some sort of friction.

He uttered a low growl against you as he snaked up to your neck leaving a string of hot kisses against your skin. The scruff of his beard nearly overstimulated you and had you clawing at his skin, frantic in your efforts, soft moans escaped your lips in wordless need of feeling something more.

“Don’t wanna talk but I got you whimpering for me, huh princess?”

“Lo-”

“Shh, baby. I got you.”

Logan bit your ear, pulling at the skin before he tugged at the bottom of your shirt and you lifted your back just enough so that he could slip it off of you. Your upper body was fully exposed to him as your tits pancaked on your chest. As he lowered his face back down to your body, he trailed down your skin with his nose inhaling every last inch of you. The action was so subdued in comparison to the rest of his demeanor that you got completely lost in the feeling.

As his face met your stomach, the scent of your arousal was incredibly inebriating, deluging his mind with salacity. He traced the waistband of your shorts with his nose, encasing his teeth around the elastic piece of fabric before replacing his mouth with his hands as he languidly pulled them down your legs. Tossing them across the room he looked up at you.

“You want this?”

“Please.” You mewled out.

Logan shoved his nose against your panties inhaling your scent before rubbing your bud through the fabric as he came back up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He pulled your panties from your body, your slick stretching as the fabric left your messy lips. The cool air was welcomed but was soon replaced by the warmth of Logan’s mouth against your petals.

He lapped at you like a dog. A wanton primal need taking over his senses. He wanted to be enveloped in you and you in him. In every timeline, he’d claim you and this one was no different. You tangled your hands in his hair, rolling your pussy into his face as he sloppily ate you out. His hands were wrapped around your hips holding you in place as he greedily drank you in.

You could feel the spit dripping down your folds and forming a cool pool of fervour beneath your skin. Eyes rolling back in ecstasy you could feel your orgasm begin to settle in your lower stomach, heat rippling across your skin. Your moans increased in frequency but became more breathy in nature as you came closer to your high.

Logan’s hand snaked up your curves and his fingers teased your nipples, pulling and pinching at the sensitive skin as he felt your body grow more tense with desire. Dragging his calloused hands down your body one last time, he inserted a finger into your wet, libertine cavern and you sucked him in with need. The stretch of him adding a second finger pushing you right to your edge as he curled them inside of you.

“Lo- I’m gonna-”

“I know, sugar. Let it out. Lemme hear you”

He immediately put his tongue back on your clit, and let you ride out your high against his face. Your moans gained volume completely immersed in the pleasure. When the ripples of euphoria finally dwindled, you looked down at Logan and pulled him up to your face so you could kiss him. The tang of your sex was still present on his lips and it ignited something within you.

“You got too many fuckin clothes on, Daddy.”

You were breathless. Lost in a licentious rhapsody as you had him hovering over your body and when Logan paused his movements to look at you, you thought you ruined the moment. He could smell the change in you and spoke before you had the chance to apologize for nothing.

“Say it again.”

He could feel you heartbeat pounding in your chest, arousal returning to the forefront of your mind.

“Wanna see you. Feel all of you, Daddy.”

Your voice was dripping sex, his personal psychedelic. He freed himself from his beater and you palmed his bulge through his sweats. Slipping your hand past the waistband, you stroked his heavy cock.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

You were getting ready to flip your bodies over, but Logan pinned you to the bed his eyes boring through you. You felt so small underneath him, like he could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him. When he spoke he broke you from the trance.

“Another time, sweetheart. This is about showing you how I feel about you since my baby needs me to spell it out for her.”

Slipping out of his sweats his cock was on full display, so heavy that it didn’t have the spring to bounce against his stomach. It hung in front of him, heady and in desperate need to be inside of you. Precum and prurience leaked from his tip. Logan crawled on top of you, the tip of his cock rubbing between your folds, coating your slick across his shaft.

“Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You squeezed around nothing, the action not going unnoticed by Logan. You mewled against him, just wanting him to ravish you in every way possible. You wanted to be marked, for everyone to see that you belonged to him but you couldn’t find the words to articulate this feeling while this sexual heat was radiating off of your bodies and numbing your mind.

Logan slowly pushed his tip into your rapt cunt before pulling it out and sliding it against your clit. The withdrawal of pleasure bringing you to your senses.

“I want you to make me yours. Wanna belong to you, Lo.”

You were wanton with need. The desire for him became nearly unbearable and it was all soon resolved as he pushed his cock past your pious walls, defiling you of any innocence you had left. You wanted to be claimed, he’d claim you. Animal instinct took over as he rocked his hips into your cunt, your walls fluttering around him in ardor. Low growls left his throat as he nipped at the skin on your neck, alternating between kissing the marks and swiping them with his tongue. He was marking you, making you his own.

It was like he couldn’t get close enough to you as he thrusted into you. His arms wrapped around your body as you fell limp to the pleasure. You felt another orgasm on the horizon and you tried your best to warn Logan by sinking your nails into his back, leaving red trails of morbid desire to mark him as yours. You didn’t realize the amount of pressure you were putting on his skin, but the groans that left him had that concern pushed to the back of your mind. Your orgasm washed over you and your pussy squeezed so tight around him that you nearly pushed him out of you. You were entranced, drunk on him and his cock, still desperate for more.

It was like he could hear your thoughts because as soon as you thought of a second round, Logan was flipping you on your hands and knees and you arched your back as he rubbed his hand along the small of it, accentuating your arch. His cock filled your sugared walls one more time and as he buried himself to the hilt. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he brought your body flesh against his.

“Gonna fuckin breed you. Never gonna forget you who belong to, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the preemptive squeezing of his cock at the mention of him breeding you. The thought of him filling you with all of him was grossly erotic and Logan took the chance to taunt you.

“Oh? You like that, huh? Want daddy to breed your pretty little pussy?”

You hummed, your eyes lidded as you tried to see him over your shoulder. Sweat was sticking your bodies together and you only noticed how hot it was between the two of you when he pushed your body forward, cool air hitting your back as he began to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. His tip was kissing your cervix and repeatedly hit that spot deep inside of you that made you squirm against his body.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy, his breaths ragged and you could feel your third orgasm of the night creeping on you. Low growls complimented the whimpers that were leaving your mouth and being somewhat muffled by the fabric of your sheets. You couldn’t hold his hips against you to ensure that he stayed inside so you just whimpered out a small ‘inside’ as you felt your orgasm begin to wash over your body.

Logan wasn’t far behind, one hand resting on your hips and his other by your head steadying himself above you. Sinking his teeth into your neck, you cried out in avidity and rapture filled his veins before painting his seed across your walls. You heard a faint schwing and as you opened your eyes, you saw that his claws were extended. As you moved your hips back into him to fuck you through the rest of your high, you accidentally nicked yourself on one of his blades. He hissed against you uttering a strained ‘don’t move’ as the luxuria dissipated in his body.

As he calmed down, his claws retracted back into skin and he gently rolled you over to gaze over your features. He moved a few sweat-stricken pieces of hair off of your face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, which was such a contrast from before. Pulling out of you he pushed himself off the bed.

“Be right back.”

Returning with a warm towel, he cleaned you up and grabbed a shirt from one of your drawers waiting for you to put it in before sliding next to you in the bed. You curled into him, tracing patterns into his chest. Looking up at him, you felt none of the tension from before in the room and you decided that this would be the time.

“So, what did you mean by ‘again’ earlier?”

Logan sighed but not out of exasperation like it was earlier, it was softer this time.

“In my world, we were together. That’s the pull you feel. But in like so many other areas in that timeline, I fucked up and I lost you. I’d rather have kept you at a distance than not have you at all, but I fucked that up too, now.”

He laughed the last bit out, a touch of humor apparent in his delivery. Sighing, you felt like something could work here between the two of you.

“Well, whenever you’re ready to tell me what happened between your timeline’s me and you, I’ll wait patiently for it. But until then, know that you’re not losing me here. I’m yours as long as you want me.”

You didn’t expect a response from him, nor did you feel like you really needed one. You wanted to relish in this moment between the two of you and soon enough sleep overtook both of your forms.

© yeonjuns-beanie '24

~Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The love, the dark, the light, the flame~

[sometimesanalice]

What’s In a Name?

Summary: Bradley really loves the way you say his name. At the grocery store. At the bar. In his bed.

Warnings: fuff, and so much smut. Minors DNI

Length: 9K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(This is a one-shot for my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)

Bradley loved hearing you say his name. 

He’d gone almost two years without hearing it. Back when he was ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ to you. Back when you weren’t sure how you would fit into the life he had built in San Diego when you had moved there for a promotion. Now he made it a priority to show you just how seamlessly your lives fit together, to remind you just how right you were for each other.

There were times when he still couldn’t believe that he was able to have you so entirely. You went from being just his closest childhood friend to being his everything. And now that he had you there was nothing he liked more than the sound of his name coming from your lips. 

He loved hearing it every chance he could. 

He’d never come so hard has he had the first time he’d heard you chanting his name over and over again as he’d fucked you in his bed. Your hair had been a riot on his pillow, your lips swollen from the attention he’d given them with his own. He’d just barely gotten you over the edge before he’d followed, so overwhelmed by your sweet voice so needy and breathy in his ear.

BradleyBradleyBradley

He had even changed his contact information in your phone from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Bradley’ one lazy Sunday afternoon when you had been dozing on his chest, adding a little sparkly heart next to it for good measure. In general, he wasn’t much of an emoji user, but he thought you might find it cute when you discovered it. He was very pleased with himself months later when he realized you’d never changed it back, pink sparkly heart and all.

He loved hearing you say his name at the grocery store. 

He had gone off to find his favorite brand of protein powder, the store had recently rearranged their health food section and he could never remember where it was stocked. He didn’t want to drag you around on the scavenger hunt, especially when he knew you’d rather be doing anything else than grocery shopping.

Once he had it, he’d tried a few different aisles before finding you standing near the baking things and spices, he would have recognized your curves in those jeans anywhere.

You were chatting away with an elderly woman like you were a pair of old friends. It didn’t surprise him, since you’d always been the type that strangers had gravitated towards, your warm energy apparent to who crossed paths with you.

Walking up to you, he put the powder in the cart with the items you had accumulated while he had been wandering the same three aisles over and over again before he found what he was looking for near the bottom shelf.

“Bradley!” you greeted turning towards him beaming, your smile pure sunshine, before cheerily spinning back to the older woman, “See, I knew he’d find us eventually.”

“And he’s just as handsome as you said,” your new friend replied, giving him the once over.

“Yes, he is. Very handsome and very tall,” you told her with a teasing lilt in your tone, glancing back over your shoulder to send him a wink.

He’d happily be objectified by anyone you wanted, including elderly women wearing fuzzy purple sweaters, just as long as it meant you were bragging about him to them. That they knew he was yours, and you were his.

“How can me and my six-foot-two-inch self be of assistance to you ladies?” he asked, putting on his most winning smile. It couldn’t be said that he wouldn’t commit to a bit when the opportunity was presented.

“Can you reach Ruth a couple of those containers of Hungarian paprika, please?” you asked him while pointing to the red and green tins on the top shelf.

He was glad you had waited for him. They were so pushed back that there’s no way you would have been able to reach them on your own without climbing on the bottom shelf for a boost. 

Safety first and all that, but also, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see the way your shirt would have ridden up your back. The dimples at the base of your spine were for his eyes only.

“Of course, I am at your service,” he pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping around the cart to grab the spice for the older woman. 

“Oh, and then maybe one for us too, Bradley. I’ve never tried making Hungarian Goulash before. You’ve made it sound so good, that now I think I have to.”

“If you want to make it, mine is the number one reviewed recipe for the dish on AllRecipes,” Ruth boasted, there was no hiding the pride in her voice. 

He hands Ruth the tins he had grabbed, and passes the other one to you to add to the collection in the shopping cart. 

“But what I left out is that I always use this specific brand of paprika, and that I make mine with half pork and half beef. I save that tidbit for friends and family, I couldn’t just give all of my secrets away to the internet people.” 

That had you laughing, “So sneaky, I love it! Thank you for sharing your secrets with us. Sounds like we know what we’re having for dinner tonight.” 

You were already opening pulling the recipe up on your phone for later. 

“I’m looking forward to it, especially since we know the tricks of the trade now.”

His eyes catch on the overflowing hand basket resting near the older woman’s worn Birkenstock mules. It looked heavy, almost like she didn’t originally plan on getting as many things as she ended up with.

“Can I carry that for you? Or if you have more shopping to do, I would be happy to go and get a cart for you,” he asks, gesturing to her overloaded basket.

“Oh no, those were the last things on my list,” Ruth replies, waving off his offer, “My youngest daughter is having her 50th birthday and the whole family is having a get together. I thought doubling my recipe would be fine, but I decided last minute to triple it.” 

She bends down to reach for it, but he beats her to it. His mom raised him right.

“No, ma’am, I insist.” He’s pretty sure he catches you checking out his ass when he stands back up, “I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Stay out of trouble.” 

He holds out his other arm for Ruth to take so he can escort her to the front of the store to pay.

“I don’t find trouble, it always seems to find me,” you joked.

“I believe that,” chimes Ruth.

He turns back to get a look at you, and sees you bringing your hand up to your forehead to mimic a full swoon.

He just smiles and shakes his head at you and your antics. Such a brat.

He helps Ruth at the check-out unloading the basket onto the conveyer belt, and then carries her packed grocery bags to her car getting them settled in her trunk. 

Once they’ve parted ways, he heads back inside to find you.

You’re standing in front of the cooler with all the dips and fresh salsas, your head cocked to the side as you deliberate your choices.

What he also notices as he makes his way to you is that you’ve caught the attention of another man, one who should be paying more attention to his bagged lettuce instead of eyeing his girlfriend. 

Sneaking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your middle lifting you up off the ground.

“Bradley! Oh my god, seriously?” He can’t help but laugh at how startled you are, he’s pretty sure if you were wearing pearls you’d be clutching them right now. 

“Here I thought you were a gentleman, helping sweet Ruth with her groceries. It’s rude to sneak up on innocent and unsuspecting women,” you protest trying to twist out of his arms once he has set you back down.

“Ah, don’t be like that,” he settles his hands on your hips pulling you back to his chest, letting his fingers slide through your belt loops, before lowering his voice, “Unsuspecting, maybe. But innocent? There wasn’t anything innocent the blowjob you gave me in the Bronco outside the Hard Deck last night.”

He knows the shiver that goes through your body isn’t from the cold case you are both standing in front of.

Looking over to his left, he sees the man who was checking you out putting down the bag of spinach in his hands. And he is hit with a feeling of smug satisfaction watching as the guy quickly wheels his empty cart out of the section completely.

“No getting handsy by the hummus, Bradley,” you tut, still set on giving him the cold shoulder, but the way you lean back against him gives you away, “Should we get that lemon beet kind again?” 

“Whatever you want, kid,” he murmured against your neck. “Plus, the word on the street is that you think I’m handsome, so that’s got to count for something.”

When you pull away from him this time, he lets you go. Getting a glimpse of the skin above the top of your jeans as you reach up to grab the square container of hummus.

You set it in the cart looking back at him as you toss your hair over your shoulder, before primly stating, “Oh, and Bradley, if you’re going to quote me I do believe I said you were very handsome.” 

And with that final word, you push off with the cart meandering to towards the fruit section, the sensual sway of your hips he knows is just for him.

He especially loved the way your voice sounded when you’d just woken up, when his name was one of the first words out of your mouth to start a new day.

There was nothing Bradley liked better than the nights you spent together in the same bed. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours, just as long as he was able to wake up to find you warm and tucked away under his arm. 

“G’morning Bradley,” you’d whisper, voice soft and sleepy, a little raspy from disuse, as you turned to nestle closer burrowing your face in his neck.  He knew you liked a gentle wake up, and he was more than happy to trail his fingers along your back until you woke up a bit more. 

He was always up before you, his internal alarm clock permanently altered from his time in the Navy. For as much as you claimed to be a morning person, you were always the one snoozing yours in favor for spending a few more minutes in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to learn about you, and he liked being the one who got to share those intimately domestic moments with you.

The only surefire way to get you out of bed and moving on those mornings was the suggestion of hot coffee-- that or the promise of his mouth. 

He loved the way you said his name when you were surprised. 

When he’d gone to that furniture store you liked, his only plans were to find a new larger dresser for his bedroom. He had claimed he needed more space for his stuff, but really, he wanted there to be more room for you to keep your things at his place.

The home stylist at the store not only helped him pick out a new dresser he thought you’d approve of, but also convinced him to also purchase the matching king-sized canopy bed frame and set of nightstands. 

He was told the mood was “cozy mid-century chic”, whatever that meant.

Bradley knows he runs hot, you’ve told him enough times that he’s like a furnace. So when the stylist showed him the cloudlike and breathable comforter along with the 800-thread count white cotton sheets, he had them add that to his collection too.

You still wouldn’t move in with him, but he was working on it. He knew he’d reel you in soon enough. And if it took a payment plan, so be it. 

Although, he could only blame himself for the new lamps and giant rug he also purchased. He’d gotten a little swept up in the salesperson’s enthusiasm. 

Hopefully that guy got commission, he deserved every dollar. 

It had hurt a bit when he swiped his credit card, but it was worth it to hear the way you said his name when you saw it all for the first time after it had been delivered and assembled.

“Oh my god, Bradley!” you laughed, “I thought you said you were just getting a new dresser. Did you buy the whole store?” 

“What can I say? The salesperson was very good at his job, sweet girl,” he was trying to not let his leg bounce as he waited for you to say more. A little nervous now that he’d gone overboard and missed the mark, “Do you like it?”

“It’s absolutely perfect, Bradley,” you gushed as you slowly made your way around the room taking it all in. “It’s warm, it’s classic, it’s cozy. It feels like you. You’re going to have a hard time getting me to leave now, I love it in here.”

That was all he wanted.

He felt all the tension leave his body, grinning as he watched you sit down on the bed running your hand over the soft deep green duvet. It had become his favorite color the second he’d seen you in that green dress the night at the seaside restaurant when he’d told you how he felt about you.

“So, do you want to help me break it in?” he asked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered towards you. 

The way you slowly reclined back on the bed, your lips turned up in a mischievous smile was an answer in itself. 

He loved the sound of you saying his name at the Hard Deck.

Your voice was so familiar to him that he could pick it out anywhere. He was so attuned to the way you said his name that he could be in a conversation with someone in the noisy bar, but his ears would perk up if you said his name in a passing comment. 

It was like he was hearing his friends talk with one ear, while the other was always listening for you.

He could be with Mav catching up and chatting about the new plane he was working on, until:

“Yeah, I could use another one, let me see if Bradley needs one really quick and then I’ll go up with you.”

And then he would find himself standing next to you at the bar. 

He could be playing around of nine-ball with Hangman, until:

“No, you’re kidding me! There’s no way you caught Coyote doing that, has Bradley heard this one before? Oh my god, you have to tell him.”

And then he would find himself abandoning his cue on the pool table. 

“What the fuck, Bradshaw? You can’t just quit because I’m kicking your ass,” Jake would shout at him as he made his way towards you.

After all, you’d said his name and now he was curious.

He could be at the jukebox trying to find something better to put on than whatever terrible song Fanboy had picked, until:

“Oh! Bradley knows how to play that one, let’s see if we can bribe him to go perform it. I doubt we’ll have to try very hard, he’s such a little show off.”

And then he would find himself seated at the piano.

To everyone else he was ‘Rooster’, ‘Bradshaw’, ‘Lieutenant’, and soon to be ‘Lieutenant Commander’. 

To you he was Bradley. 

Seeing Bradley seated at the piano was a normal sight for you.

Since being permanently stationed in San Diego, he’d had all of the things from his storage locker shipped over, including his Dad’s old upright. He liked to play in the evening to decompress after his day and you liked to watch.

There was something about the way his large fingers moved over the keys so gracefully that was always so mesmerizing to you.

You still remembered how embarrassed he would get all those times when your moms would beg him to put on an impromptu piano recital. Usually fueled by a couple too many glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, you realized later on. 

Your mom and Carole had definitely been the “Wine Moms” at the baseball and tennis games they’d sat through in support of you and Bradley.

He would get a little sulky in the way that all self-conscious teens got, but he could never hold out for very long before pulling out the wooden piano bench. Bradley wasn’t one to purposefully disappoint his mom, their relationship special in the way that only a single parent and an only child could understand.

Once he realized it was a good way to get noticed by the girls in high school, he’d been quick to change his tune. And now it was clear he reveled the attention it got him when he sat down and started tapping out a carefree riff before launching into a song, all preening posturing and smug smiles.

You were usually right next to Bradley when he put on a show, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, always one to want a front row seat to see him in action.

Tonight the bar was a bit more packed than usual. It took a little longer to move around, and a little longer for Penny to make your drink since you had opted for something slightly more complicated than a beer.

Slowly, but surely, you wove your way through the crowd. Careful to avoid any stray elbows to avoid jostling your full drink as you made your way back to your friends where they were gathered around the ancient upright. You were nearly there when a burly man stepped around you, giving you a clear view of Bradley playing. 

And you were stopped short by the picture in front of you.

The performance he was currently putting on at the Hard Deck was different than anything he did at his own home. His leg bouncing in tempo as he shimmied perched on the piano bench, like it’s a struggle for him to be contained to one spot.

He was captivating in the way that he commanded the room. 

Maybe it was the way the way the muscles of his forearms were flexing as his fingers were precisely flying over the discolored keys.

Maybe it was the way the light sheen of sweat was collecting in the hollow of his collarbone.

Or maybe it was the way the veins were standing out against his neck, the way the thick tendon that ran along his throat had you transfixed as he threw his head back to sing at the top of his lungs. 

His sunglasses were sliding down his nose as his head bobbed between glancing down at his hands and scanning the room. He smiled when his eyes found yours over the top of his aviators. Your hand tightened around the glass in your hand, the condensation dripping down your wrist as you stood there and watched. 

You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or the tequila you’d been sipping on all night, but it seemed like he was working the keys of the piano a little harder, a little faster as he held your gaze. 

And then his tongue was slipping out. Just a bit, and just for you.

Thankfully no one could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat over the sound of everyone in the bar singing along. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on. 

The intensity of Bradley’s heated gaze, the way his body was moving, the way you wanted to crawl in his lap and lick the taut line of his neck and taste the salt of his skin right there in front of everyone.

You probably looked as desperate as you were feeling, because his easygoing smile turned more knowing every second your eyes stayed locked.  

“I’ll be right back,” you said to no one in particular as you abandoned your spicy margarita on the nearest surface to make your escape.

You felt like you were about to vibrate out of your skin.

It was easier to slipping away to the bathroom than had been trying to reach Bradley in front of the stage, needing a moment to yourself out of his heady orbit.

Locking the door behind you, you lean against the worn wood that was littered with stickers that had been collected and brought back from around the world. You try breathing in and out a few times, the way you’ve learned to do at your expensive yoga classes, in an attempt to slow down the rapid pounding in your chest. Actively trying to not think about the way he looked at you.

There was no question in your mind that you suffered from an incurable Bradley kink. Now that you could let yourself revel in all sorts of unfriendly thoughts about him, everything he did was a turn on for you.

You had a sneaking suspicion that he might have one too. His eyes always a got a bit more heated, and his hands would grip you a little tighter when you said it. 

You knew that if you were to slip your fingers past the waistband of the dainty lace underwear you had just bought that you would find yourself wet. 

And for a moment, you’re tempted to do just that. To let your fingers skim up your thigh, along the scalloped edge of the panties you’d bought specifically with Bradley in mind, to think of him as you slide your fingers inside of yourself. 

You’re feeling so high-strung that you know it wouldn’t take long to come. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have used the bathroom at the Hard Deck to get off.

Your hand is halfway under your sundress, when you hear the chanting:

Roo-ster! Roo-ster! Roo-ster!

In your mind’s eye, you can picture him standing behind the piano doing his version of a touchdown dance. 

You’ve teased him about it before, calling him a “slutty little songbird”, which he didn’t deny. He thrives off the attention, and you can’t say you mind watching him do that sexy little shimmy he is so fond of. 

You also don’t mind helping him find other ways to work off the post-performance high.

Knowing that he will probably be looking for you now that he’s done, you smooth down the skirt of your dress with shaky hands and make your way to the sink.

Standing in front of the dingy mirror, you can see just how much a wreck your appearance actually is. Your cheeks look warm, your lips are slightly swollen from Penny’s special spicy margarita mix, and your eyes have that certain wild gleam in them that only Bradley brings out in you.

You turn the cold tap on, and stick your wrists under the running water. Hoping the cool water on your pulse points will help ease the heat that is spreading under your skin.

While the chanting has stopped now, you can still hear the lively sounds of the packed bar. Figuring it’s alright to leave the safe confines of the tiny bathroom, you turn off the water and dry your hands, determined to not let anyone see just how riled up you were.

You’re barely five steps outside of the bathroom, when a strong arm wraps around your waist.

“Hey, kid.”

And just like that your heart is racing out of control again. His woodsy smell paired with the faint hit of sweat has your brain going fuzzy. 

“You doin’ ok?” he rasps against the shell of your ear. He has you pulled against his warm, broad chest and you can feel the echoes of his question reverberate throughout your whole body.

You pull out of his grasp to turn and face him, taking a small step backwards towards the wall.

“Uh-huh, yeah. Everything is fine,” you ramble, nodding your head as you try to avoid looking in his honey brown eyes.

“You sure about that?” he asks taking a step towards you, which has you retreating another one back. “Thought I should check on you since you disappeared there for a bit.”

“Just you know,” you trail off briefly glancing at him and gesturing pathetically towards the bathroom like that explains your clearly unusual behavior. 

“Mm-hmm, sure,” he allows, his head tilting to the side as he observes you. 

You know the exact moment when he realizes what’s going on by the way his cheek twitches as he tries to control the wolfish smile he is fighting back. And you’re suddenly feeling very much like his prey when he presses forward again. This time when you step back you feel the wall against your back as he crowds into your space.

“We should probably go back,” you stutter out when he cages you in with one hand above your head.

“Maybe,” he muses, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so ruffled?”

The way he is looking at you, the way he feels against you, it’s all too much.

“Bradley.” 

You don’t know what you were trying to sound like when you said his name, but there’s no missing the neediness in your voice.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. He takes your hand in his, guiding you to his zipper, letting you feel him through his jeans. “You got me all worked up too, sweet girl.” 

The sound you make is lands somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he has you leading the way up to the bar, using your body to hide his hard on as he pays. Not even bothering to wave goodbye to your group of friends as he hustles you to the Bronco. 

He definitely broke the speed limit and a couple minor traffic laws on the drive back trying to get you home to his place.

You had looked so flushed when he had been pounding away at the keys of the upright at the Hard Deck, and you had dashed away abandoning your freshly made drink. He might have sped up the tempo to wrap it up faster so that he could check on you, worried for a moment that you might have caught a bug or food poisoning or something. 

That was until he caught you outside of the bathroom, and saw just how flustered you’d been and he knew.

It took everything in him not to push you back into the tiny bathroom and have his way with you right then and there. He was hit with an image bending you over the sink, and showing you just how good you looked coming around his cock.

However, a hot and dirty quickie at the Hard Deck wouldn’t have been enough for him.

He knew exactly how he wanted you: flustered, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.

So yeah, he floored the gas pedal needing to feel your body under his as soon as possible.  And it didn’t hurt that it probably cleared out some of the engine build up in the Bronco along the way either. 

He pressed you against the door the second you’d gotten inside, letting you rock your hips against his thigh as he sucked along the curve of your collarbone. Your hands coming up to tug at the curls at the top of his head.

“U-upstairs,” you gasp when he grazes his teeth along the swell of your breast.

You didn’t need to tell him twice. 

He lifts you up, and your legs wrap around him immediately. It had taken all of his will power not to slip his hands up your frilly dress at the Hard Deck. He loved any chance to he got to get his hands on your ass.

He almost misses the first step going up the stairs when you drag your hot mouth along his neck.

“Wait, wait,” you pant in his ear, “Put me down.” 

“It’s fine, I got you,” he promises as he tightens his grip on you.

You pull away and shake your head at him, “I don’t want either of us to end up in the Emergency Room for a sex related accident. Could you imagine? Jake would never let us live it down, and Nat would be worse.”

“It’d be worth it though,” he winks at you.

“You say that now, until you’re stuck in a neck brace unable to fly or have sex,” you admonish jokingly, stroking the side of his throat with the scars he earned from that night at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party.

“Yeah, but you could still ride me. The way I see it, it’s a win-win either way,” he chuckles at the exasperated way you roll your eyes.

“You’re handsome, but I don’t think even you could pull off the color of those hospital gowns,” you quip with a quick peck to his lips, “Now, hands off the goods.”

Giving your ass one more squeeze, he lets you slide down his body. He may not have his hands on you anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring your figure as you bound up the stairs in front of him. 

He stops short at the threshold of his bedroom at the sight of you pulling your dress over your head. Of all your soft skin on display for him.

There were times he still couldn’t believe he got to have you like this.

How did he think it could have ever just been a friendship with you?

He liked how comfortable you were in this space with him, liked how perfectly your things fit in with his. 

He liked knowing that one of the pillows on the bed smelled like you.

He liked knowing that if he went in the bathroom he would find your expensive shampoo and conditioner in there next to his. 

He liked knowing that if he opened the drawer on one of the nightstands that he would find your lip balm, your lavender lotion, a vibrator from your place that had found a home here, and a notebook and pen in case you needed to remember to do something because you didn’t like having your phone in bed.

What he currently liked most about his bedroom was the way your dress was decorating the floor, and the way you were kneeling on his bed like a vision.

You were wearing a matching pale pink lace set he’d never seen before. Your skin was peeking through the floral embroidery of the sheer mesh in an all too enticing way.

You were his sweet girl.

“Come here,” you beckon, inching closer to the edge of the wooden canopy bed. 

He’s not one to deny you, he’d willingly go wherever you wanted. He saunters in towards you slowly, putting on a bit of a show for you as he comes to stand before you.

“I like this, it’s pretty,” he hums as he runs his knuckles slowly over the edge of the embroidered cups, enjoying the way you lean further into him. 

Cupping your jaw, he pulls you forward for a lingering kiss. Being this close to you, the smell of your musky floral perfume is intensifying thumping of his pulse. 

Your hands slide under his Hawaiian print shirt, helping to ease it off his body and then tossing it somewhere near your dress. You ruck the tank he has underneath up his chest and he reaches down to pull it over his head as your hands run over the ridges of his abs.

His body has been humming for yours since the bar. The hurried encounter at the door barely managed to take any of the edge off, and he was still just as starved for you as he had been when he saw you holding that drink looking at him like he was something to be devoured. 

His left hand moves from where it’s been settled on the flare of your hip and up your back to the clasp of your pretty bra.

He’s been letting you take the lead, but you’re not nearly naked enough for him. 

“Hands to yourself,” you mutter as you work to get his belt undone, “I’m trying to get you naked you here.”

Part of him wants to take his time with you, to take you apart slowly and see what new sounds he can uncover. The other part of him wants to have you holding onto that rich espresso colored headboard while he shows you just how much he appreciates you wearing this little set just for him.

“You like my hands,” he murmurs against your neck. He is quick to unhook the clasp of your bra with one hand, easing it down your arms and flinging it behind him.

Yet another offering to his bedroom floor. 

And then he is trailing his fingers down your soft stomach, dipping them under the band of your matching panties. 

He groans when he discovers you’re already wet for him. He finds your clit, and teases you there making gentle figure-eights with his finger, “Got yourself so worked up you couldn’t even stick around for the end of the damn song, huh?”

You’re quick to abandon your crusade against his favorite pair of jeans, leaving him unbuckled and half unzipped, as you circle your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“God, your fingers feel so much better than mine,” you sigh against his mouth as he licks his lips before bringing them back to yours.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more.

He slips his tongue in your mouth taking advantage of your gasp as his circles against you turn from teasing to purposeful. The kiss turning messy with need. With want. 

“I know another part of my body that you like just as much,” he murmurs, as he palms your ass.

Your hand starts moving down his chest, down his stomach. 

“Nuh-uh,” he tsks, catching your tricky hand before it has a chance to reach his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his shoulder. 

“I want to touch you,” you whisper against the spot below his ear that you know drives him wild. 

“I’m getting you off right now,” he says firmly as he speeds up his motions against your clit.

It doesn’t take long before he has you panting against his mouth, your hips rocking against his fingers. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “Let me give you what you want.” 

He knows from the sweet whimpers you’re making that you’re close, he breaks away from your kiss to hold your half-lidded gaze as you come for him.

He will never get tired of watching you fall apart. 

He will never get tired of seeing you satisfied and spread across his bed. 

Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he shucks off his jeans and his briefs, releasing a small groan as his cock springs free. He’s been hard for you since he cornered you by the bathroom at the bar. Sending you a lazy-half smile at the way your eyes take him in standing there above you as he slowly pumps himself. 

He knows he looks good, it’s literally his job to keep his body in peak condition. 

But you make him feel good.

No one knows him better than you, makes him laugh harder than you, makes him feel as important as you do. Your appreciative gaze of his body is just another bonus to the many ways you make him feel good about himself.

He climbs on the bed, settling between the cradle of your open thighs.

“You gonna tell me what got you so keyed up, sweet girl?” he asks in-between scattering kisses across your cheeks.

“That’s classified,” you retort breathlessly as you wrap your legs around him. 

“Is it now?” he grinned, kissing along the delicate line of your jaw. He’ll let you keep your secret for now, he had other more pressing questions he wanted answers to, “Did you touch yourself when you ran off to the bathroom?” 

“No,” you whine, as he pulls your nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

“Did you think about it? Think about me?” 

He wanted to know. He needed to know that he drove you just as crazy as you did him. 

“Yes,” you gasped out in confession when he moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, “I’m always thinking about you.”

Good.

“Already know how you feel about my fingers,” he rasps as he kisses down your stomach, making sure to place one on the little tattoo near your hipbone. “Should I let you have my mouth too, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe working your hands into the curls at the top of his head, “Please.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees mouthing at the last little bit of lace still on your body.

He pulls off your pretty pink panties and throws them somewhere behind him, probably landing on that overpriced dresser he bought for you.

He loved that he was the one who got to see you like this. Your hair was a mess from his hands, you pupils were blown wide, and your flushed chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently before licking a firm stripe parting you open.

It’s not long before his mouth is meticulously working between your thighs, his tongue gliding over your clit, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder. 

He’s sliding his finger into you and then another, making room in your body, determined to pull a second orgasm from you.

You’re so wet for him, so soft for him, so sweet for him.

He knows what you like. He’s studied your body just as thoroughly he did the aircraft manuals he was given, if not more so.

“More,” you moan, your hips rolling from the stimulation, “I need more.”

Pulling away from you with one more broad lick of his tongue, he leans his head against the thigh that’s thrown over his shoulder, watching your face as he pushes another finger into you. The way you’re pressing your heel into the muscles of his back has him fighting the urge to grind himself into the bed. 

“You look so good like this,” he praises, taking in the way you writhe against the three fingers he has buried deep in you, as he squeezes you hip with his other hand.

He’s seen a lot of unforgettable sights from the cockpit of his plane, but nothing will ever compete with the way you look as you chase your release. Your eyes fighting to say open as you watch him watching you.

“Oh my god,” you exhale when he hits that spot inside of you, your leg starting to tremble with the need, “Please, I’m so close.” 

Using his fingers and mouth in tandem, he works you with same pressure, the same pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers a few moments later, your back arching in pleasure as you fly apart for him. 

Teasing his lips and mustache along the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, as you come down from your high, before kissing his way back up your body. Your greedy hands reaching out for him, pulling him to your mouth. He feeds you his tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

The way you’re whimpering beneath him is making him feel out of control.

“I want you inside me.”

Wrapping his large hand around his cock, he drags it through your folds few times before he finally lines himself up at your center. 

And then he’s finally pushing into you, savoring the way you cling to him as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Rooster,” you say with a sigh against his lips. 

He starts to move when your hips start to shift seeking more friction. And then he’s rocking into you with the smooth, deep strokes that never fail to make your toes curl. Once, twice, three times.

“What’d you say?” he asks, as he slows the pace down. 

Your hands are in his hair, and you tug on the strands when he pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, but he knows that look in your eye.  He can already can guess what you’re going to respond with before your lips have even formed the word.

“R-ooster.” 

The word comes out a stutter, as he roughly thrusts into you again. 

He doesn’t know why he’s bothered asking, he should have known that you were going to make him work for the one thing he wants to hear.

“Say my name.”

He was so gone for you, he wants you riled up and feeling the same way as him. He wants his neighbors to hear you saying his name. Wants them to know that he’s the one making you feel so good.

“Lieutenant,” you taunt, not bother trying to hide the self-satisfied on your face.

If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted then neither were you. 

He pulls out of you completely, flipping you over on the forest green duvet. His hand coming down on your ass, a quick sharp slap.

The sting of it has you gasping into your forearms pillowed underneath your head, and your cunt fluttering around nothing.

Leaning forward, he kisses down the length of your spine admiring the way the goosebumps pebble on your skin now.

“Say my name,” he coaxes again.

He tugs your hips up and licks deeply into you once before pulling away. Watching smugly on his knees at the way your hips tilt up after him, your legs spreading further apart as you offer more of yourself to him.

“Bradshaw,” you counter.

Closer, but still not what he wants to hear. 

His open hand connects on the other side of your perfect ass, earning him a sweet moan from you.

Grasping his cock to slide it through your wetness, he stops just short of where he knows you want to feel it the most. 

He wants you dazed. He wants you desperate for him.

You’ve always been the type to take a mile when you’re given an inch. And he intends to only let you have exactly eight inches tonight.

“You want this cock?” he rasps.

He knows he’s got you where he wants you when you don’t reply with another bratty remark, only desperately nodding ‘yes’ into the mattress.

“Look at me,” he demands. 

You’re slow to lift your head up to look back at him, your eyes are a little glazed over as you take him in. You look as wrecked as he feels. He can only imagine what he looks like through your eyes. He can feel the sweat collecting at his temples, can feel the flush that’s working its way down his neck to his chest.

“You know what I wanna hear, kid.”

That makes you whine. 

“Oh, you wanna be my sweet girl now, huh?” he asks, squeezing your hips.

He wants to taste that lower lip, the one that’s pouting prettily at him as you nod for him again. Even now as you writhe against him you’re still trying to get your own way, still trying to get him to break first.

“Well, you know what to do,” he feels like barely hanging on now, “Say. My. Name.” 

He punctuates each word with the rock of his hips, his cock just grazing your clit. Enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the stimulation that you want.

“Bradley!” you cry out.

He’s inside of you before you’ve even gotten the second syllable out. 

Groaning your name, he throws his head back at the sensation of finally being surrounded by you again.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he tries to ask teasingly, but it comes out more a rumble than anything else. “My sweet girl.”

Your pussy squeezes him harder at the praise as you roll your hips up more to better accept his body in yours. He loved the view he had, loved seeing how wet you were for him, loved seeing just how well he filled you, loved seeing you stretched around him.

He leaned forward a bit, brushing back your hair off your face to see you better. The change in angle making you gasp as you fisted the material beneath you.

“Say it again,” he prompts, smoothing a hand down your back, “I wanna hear you say it again.”

His name. 

The only thing he wanted running through your mind. 

His name. 

The only thing he wants coming from your mouth, other than the sweet whimpers and moans he is pulling from you. 

“Bradley,” you indulge, his name sounding something between a plead and a purr.

Without disrupting the pace he’s set, he nudges your knees further apart. Wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you up against his chest, needing to be closer to you. 

“Go on, let them hear who is making you feel this good,” he grunts roughly in your ear.

“Brad-ley,” the staccato of his name punctuated by his steady thrusts against you. Your hand digging into his hip.

Interlocking his fingers with yours, he lifts your arm to hook it around the back of his neck, holding you to him there. Turning your head, you greedily mouth at the column of his throat, frenzied and wet.

You were it for him, there was no question about it. And he would happily prove to you in all the ways he could think of that he was it for you too. There’s nothing he wants more than to make you feel good. To please you. To give you the best you’ve ever had. 

His other hand slides up from where he had been squeezing your waist to get his hand on your breast. He loves how perfectly you fit in his hand.

He meets you for a kiss, sloppy and perfect, messy and deep. 

He can’t control the sounds of satisfaction escaping him as you move together, feeding off of your sighs and moans. Your hands are grabbing onto whatever part of him is in reach: his hair, his thigh, his arm. 

Enjoying the drag of his cock as he moves in you, he lets himself get lost in the sensation of being connected with you like this. The room filled with the sounds of labored breathing, of your bodies coming together, of you saying his name over and over again.

You’re starting to tremble in his arms, he’s pretty sure your legs would have given out by now if it were for the way he was holding you against him. Your nails biting into the back of his neck, as he slowly drags a hand down your body to where you’re connected.

“I love this,” you murmur into the base of this throat. 

He doesn’t know if you realized you said it out loud, doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, but he loves hearing it all the same.

“God, you feel so good,” he can feel the sensation building at the base of his spine, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

The way his circles his fingers against your clit has you gasping into his waiting mouth. 

“Bradley, please.” 

He’d give you anything. He’d give you everything.

“C’mon then,” he insisted hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the side of your temple, “Say it for me one more time, sweet girl.” 

He speeds up his fingers, set on ending you. Working your body with the precision that he handles his sixty-five million dollar aircraft. Determined to give you what you’re so sweetly asking for.

And it’s his name you gasp as you come undone.

Your is head thrown back against his shoulder as you spasm around his cock, your hips rolling as you are lost to the pleasure of your orgasm. He kisses your neck and lightens the pressure of his fingers on your clit, wanting to extend it out for you as much as possible, enjoying the tiny pulsing aftershocks he is drawing from you. 

It’s only when he feels you go boneless that he starts to lose his own composure. His breathing going completely ragged and hips snapping erratically against you as he chases his own climax.

A few more powerful strokes later he follows you coming hard with a groan, burying his face in your neck as he spills in you.

Somehow, he manages to get you both sprawled out horizontal on the bed without him completely crushing you.

“Holy shit,” he curses flinging an arm over his eyes, his other reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can find. There’s nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath.

Time gets away from him as he runs his hand up and down your back. It could have been a few minutes or an hour when he feels the bed move, and you slipping out of his grasp as you get up to use the bathroom. 

“No, stay,” he attempts to pull you back to him, feeling the need to have you close again as he tries to settle back into his body. You’re seemingly recovering much quicker than he is at the moment.

“I won’t even be gone two minutes, you can time me.” He can hear the soft affection in your voice. 

“Don’t think I won’t,” he grouses halfheartedly lifting up the arm with his watch on. He manages to raise his head up in time to get a glimpse of your naked figure as you close the door behind you.

True to your word, you are back one minute and forty-seven seconds later. He opens his arms to you as you climb back on his bed and drape yourself half over him.

Much better.

He feels you shift yourself up a few moments later to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder. 

“I just want to try something,” you murmur before making your way along the bend of his collarbone. 

Up the side of his neck.

He feels his pulse start to kick up again as you work your way up the line of his jaw. He tilts his head away to give you more access to his skin there, basking in the feel of your lips on his body.

“Bradley,” you whisper lightly against the shell of his ear.

The guttural groan that rips through him surprises him. He feels his cock twitch against his thigh, a visceral reaction to you.

And then you’re giggling.

“I knew it,” you get out between fits of laughter, “You’ve got a name kink.”

Your face pure joy at your discovery. He’ll happily let you tease him for the rest of his life as long as you keep looking at him like that.

“Nah, I got a you kink,” he says as he hauls you on top of him.

“I’m already planning on letting you have your way with me again tonight, Bradley,” you proudly declare, propping yourself up on his chest, smiling down at him. “You don’t have to try so hard, I’m a sure thing.” 

If he wasn’t already gone for you, the cheeky wink you sent him would have sealed the deal.

He feels himself already starting to get hard again, one of the perks of being a part of the 1%.

“Sweet girl, you’re gonna be the end of me,” he chuckles, running his hands up your back, “And I remember someone once telling me that they give as good as they get, so I won’t be dialing it in anytime soon.”

And then he is pulling you down for a kiss.

Later that night when you’re riding him so good, you get him chanting your name. 

Over, and over, and over again. 

A couple hours later, he watches you slip away into slumber, satisfied and spent beneath the fluffy comforter on the bed.  

His bed. Your bed. Their bed.

It was just as much yours as it was his, regardless of whether you were officially living together yet or not. He bought it for you, after all.

Even on the occasional nights you spent apart, you were still everywhere. 

He liked the plants you had picked to fill out the empty spaces in the room. He liked that the right side of the bed was your side of the bed. That those were your books on the nightstand, the bookmarks peeking out waiting for you to pick up where you left off. 

There was a trinket tray for your jewelry on top of the dresser right next to the to the leather watch display box that you had gotten him for his birthday. And the drawers of that well-made, but overpriced wooden dresser were filling up with more and more of your things, just like he had hoped for when he got it.

He smiled to himself as he gently stroked your hair. The last time he was at your place, he had accidentally seen the letter from your apartment’s leasing office confirming your decision to not renew your rental agreement and your move out date. He hadn’t told you he knew, he’d rather hear it from you anyways. 

You would always be worth the wait.

The packages that were delivered to the door?

His, for now, until you moved in a couple months from now.

The name signed on the lease for the condo? 

His, for now, until you were ready to ink yours down on a deed for a new home with him. 

The little velvet box tucked away in the back corner of his nightstand? 

His, for now, but always meant to be yours.

You can thank @mak-32 and her photo set of Rooster at the piano for this fic!

Also, many many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse​ for being my go-to gal! I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post the smut if she hadn’t given me the all-caps go ahead! 

Here’s Bradley’s bedroom, if you’re curious!

You can check my other fics out here!

Taglist:

@sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks​ @starryeyedstories​

[yourlocal-edgelord]

GUYS I AM HERE TO BLESS YOU WITH MY VERSION OF ALFRED CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES WHICH HAVE BEEN PERFECTED AFTER MONTHS OF WORK

chile anyways

so ur gonna start off with 1/2 a cup of sugar, 3/4 a cup of brown sugar and two pinches of salt.

throw it together in a large bowl and mix it out using ur hands to get all the clumps out

i swear never use a utensil to mix anything while baking always do it with ur hands it tastes better trust me.

next ur gonna melt around a 100 grams of butter so just under half a cup

now what u wanna do is pour the butter into the sugar while its still hot then get up in there with some elbow grease and mix into the sugar until it has a sludge like texture and there are no clumps,

remember the butter must still be hot while u mix it up, not like boiling or anything but still hot <3

1 egg, throw it in there again mix it up, (for the love of god have some fun in life and keep mixing with ur hands its so much fun and it actually tastes so much better some how call it putting some love into ur baking, or even take ur anger out on the batter, its rlly therapeutic.)

next a cap of vanilla or a dash or whatever however much feels right

2 pinches of baking powder

and then 1 and 1/4 cup of flour, all together

then again in with your hands mix it up and put some elbow grease in there

now the chocolate chips, yum.

theres no fucking measurement for it, you measure that shit with your heart, just keep pouring till it feels right and looks right, and dont be afraid to snag a few chocolate chips here and there while you pour <33

oke so now ur gonna throw a lid on the bowl or wrap it with ceran wrap and throw it in the fridge for minimum an hour, the longer you leave it the better it tastes but max like 3 and 1/2 hours, i typically leave mine in for 1 and a 1/2 to 2 hours.

then your gonna take it out, let it soften for 5 minutes while your preheat your oven at 180C or 350F

then your gonna put parchment paper on the tray u’ll be baking on

then get ur cookie dough and start rolling it into whatever size balls feel right and place them on the tray.

then pop those babies in the oven for 15 minutes and let em bake, but dont forget to check in after 10 minutes.

take em outta the oven once its done, let it rest for like two minutes then pop them on the tray and leave em alone for like 5 or so minutes more

and voila ready to eat <33

they’ll have that crunch to them and still be soft on the inside without being raw so like best of both worlds

Also dont be afraid to make a mess while you bake, its half the fun and you can always clean up later <33

[butchesarebabes]

ABBY ANDERSON!SOFT

For the last two or three days you had been staying up, so long infact that you crashed on the couch as soon as you say down to watch a film with your girlfriend Abby.

It suprised her a bit but she just wrapped a warm musclular arm around you and pet your hair while cuddled up in a warm flannel patterned blanket, glancing at you every so often from habit when you enjoy something with her, only to be reminded you're alseep and kissing your forehead lovingly.

waking up was a disorientating, peeling your eyes open to the darkness of your living room from the curtains being drawn, drool around your mouth and a small patch on the arm you rested your face on and bumpy indents on your forearms from the texture of the sofa.

You let out a grumble before lazily looking around like a cat, landing on the window of the kitchen in view, it's bright, snowing ofcourse, then your eyes spot an Abby, not any Abby, your Abby :).

She's bopping her head to music playing through her phone while she... bakes? You smell something like batter, but she's using a pan.

You place your head on the arm of the sofa, making sure to keep being nestled in the warm blanket since it's bloody freezing "goodmorning Abs" a yawn "what you making?".

She jumps slightly, clearly in her own zone "oh, uh" she rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, not facing you but having her neck craned around to see you "pancakes, remember that kit I got? The red white n' blue 'murica one?" She salutes jokingly and you giggle, god she loves when you laugh...

You nod and salute back, remembering you got it only because of how cheap it was, 79p, you let out a hum of acknowledgment "the really sugary one?" You tease, cause jesus that thing probably had enough sugar that it'd last you like four days from the guidelines of sugar intake in the body, not that you ever really took that into consideration in any of your eating habits.

Abby just rolls her eyes, but can't stop her grin "maybe" tilting her head to the side while drawing out the word "butttt, you're gonna like em', they have this-" she picks up the very American slush puppy themed pancake mix box and reads it "-this blue syrup powder, you don't have to if you don't want to babe" she puts it back down and turns to the pan, flipping a pancake.

You notice a plate on the side already has a few pilled up, sprinkled with sugar "fine" you pout "but if I like die and have to go to A and E, you're legally obligated to blame yourself n shit" sticking your tounge out.

She mouths the words 'drama queen' with a small smirk to herself and nods to you, head banging to the music again, you sigh exhageratedly and turn to the small TV Infront of the couch, scrolling through the options before settling on bottoms.

A few minutes later she rings that damn novelty desk bell you got her last Christmas as a joke, always using it to mockingly get your attention "pikelets" she murmurs to you, you look at the tray she has them on, a cute little cat illustration on it, she sits next to you, putting the plate on your lap.

She stabs the fork into it "there was alot of icing-" she coughs "uh syrup" you laugh, the 'syrup' being an unnatural blue, with a packet of sprinkles on the tray, you kiss her cheek, glancing at her atire.

A black hoodie, some flannel pajama trousers, a pair of very fluffy pink socks with little hearts on them, a grey beanie because it's freezing still cold inside the house and what you assume with the collar peaking from her hoodie, her favourite shirt, the one her dad always wore before he died.... Uh a bit sentimental.

"cute" you say grabbing the little pack and tearing it open with your teeth after a small struggle, she just watches with a raised eyebrow in amusement, using every sprinkle on those obviously already too sweet disks o' batter.

Tasting them you wince as she awaits your reaction, you stare at her wide eyed before swallowing with a squirm "okay that- way too much of that blue shit" you snort and grimace at the plate, she replies with a guilty look "I can uh scrape it off?" A shrug on her strong shoulders, you nod.

-----------

you spend the afternoon eating the pancakes, adding the icing sparingly and watching Bottoms, you wink at her each Jeff scene, teasing her, an inside joke.

"yeah alright, Baby" patting your cheek lovingly.

[russellsppttemplates]

So... pure and so you (Charles Leclerc)

Going back home means Charles sees how you've been healing, and your parents haven't missed it either

Note: english is not my first language. I know it's past Christmas, but this still counts, right?

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: talks about having kids

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Is your mother making those biscuits I really like? Those fluffy ones, they're like little cakes actually", Charles asked, his hand over the console and resting on your thigh as he turned left for the final cut to your house.

"She said she was planning on making them these afternoon, I can't wait!", you squealed, clapping your hands together at the prospect, seeing your parents left the gate open so you could drive in.

Parking the car, Charles ensured it was safe before coming out of it as well, being greeted by your family dog while you hugged your parents, "hello buddy, how are you? You're very excited to see us, hm? Yes you are!", Charles cooed, rubbing his belly as he wagged his tail at the attention he was receiving.

You hugged your parents before looking for your boyfriend, "Arlo loves Charles more than he loves me", you chuckled, seeing the labrador run back to you as Charles followed him.

"Hi, how are you?", Charles offered as he kissed your mother's cheeks, opting to shake your father's hand as you walked inside, "did you have a good drive back here?", he questioned him, "yes, not too bad actually. It wasn't too busy", your boyfriend replied, seeing you store your coats and get comfortable in your parents' house.

After lunch, your mother asked for help with baking while your father and Charles helped with preparing the table to you could then roll the dough properly.

It was a sight to behold. You were helping your mother with Christmas cookies and the cakes your boyfriend mentioned, your clothes littered with flour stains as you touched your mother's cheek with some of the mixture, containing your laugh as she didn't seem to notice the powder on her skin.

You were happy, giggly and you had a glow that Charles was sure put all of the products you had back home to shame.

"It's good to see her like this", Charles commented when he felt your father's eyes on him, "work has been a lot lately, and she'll only listen to so much of what I say and take the advice even less than I'd like", he chuckled.

Your father shook his head, "She's always been like that. It was worrisome for a little bit, and we always make sure she's not pushing herself too much. And we know we have you in our team, too", the older man touched a Charles' shoulder, rubbing it slightly before he offered him a drink.

After wishing your parents a good night, you and Charles headed to your room upstairs, needing to catch up on some sleep after the busy day. Your old bedroom had slightly changed since you moved out to live with your boyfriend. Your parents swapped your single bed for a double one, for whenever you and Charles visited, and updated the colour of the walls, wanting to keep it on the neutral side in case they needed it for other guests, "are you showering now or after me?", Charles asked, grabbing a towell from himself, "I'll go after you, I need to hang my clothes first", you smiled, kissing his lips as he went to the bathroom.

Looking through your wardrobe, you noticed your mother still kept the family albums in there, remembering something about the downstairs drawers being humid and her worry about loosing the memories. You flickered through the pages, recalling some memories from when you were younger, some of them you probably constructed by other people telling you the moments.

Charles walked in a little while later, ruffling his hair with a towell only in a t-shirt and underwear, "you can go now, amour", he said as he noticed you closing the album, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you walked to take a shower.

You were already in bed when you noticed Charles looking at the books, "you want to look at what's inside them, don't you?", you chuckled as his eyes lit up, "I'm not too tired to look at them, and I bet there are some good memories in there", he confessed.

Opening the book while your boyfriend pulled you to rest against his chest, "this is so pretty", you appreciated all the details on the pages, either doodles or descriptions from the moment when the picture was taken.

"Look at these cheeks!", Charles groaned as he pointed at a picture of you. From the date on the page, you were around four, two pigtails on your curly hair and a toothy smile, "if our kids have your cheeks, which I hope they do, I won't be able to stop kissing them, I know I just won't", he breathed out.

"Do you think about that a lot?", you wondered, looking at his face as you adjusted your position slightly, genuinely curious about the subject. It had been something you had talked about before and it seemed to come to again.

"Yes, I do. I still think we should wait a little bit longer, get married first, enjoy married life just you and me and then we can think about little ones, but everytime I see a child or someone asks, it's you I see. With a baby bump, then a little baby in your arms, and we play with them and love in them like they deserve", he cooed, rubbing the tip of his nose on your cheek, kissing it softly.

"Me too", you smiled, "I mean, its always you I see whenever I think about the future. And it looks so good. Sometimes it looks scary, because I don't know how it will play out, but I'll have you with me, so all will be well", you admitted, kissing his lips properly.

You had been friends before you dated, and it has been a whole process to get you to be this open to him when you started dating, never wanting to put too much on his plate as he had his own things to deal with, not wanting to burden him and not wanting to lose him from your life.

"We're a team, amour, there's no need to fear", he said, closing the book and setting it down on the floor, cuddling you to him.

The next morning was slow. Charles' lips littered kisses on your neck and cheeks, seeing the smile as you slowly woke up, "it's Christmas, ma belle", you heard his whisper, his eyes looking for yours, "Merry Christmas, handsome, I love you", you muttered, pulling your hands out from under the covers and cupping your boyfriend's' cheeks, rubbing the stubbly skin before kissing him.

"I love how smiley you are", Charles complimented, big coats and scarf on as you walked on the trail after having breakfast, occasionally pestering your mother with a fallen tree branch or twigs as she thought some animal was crawling up her skin.

"Am I not smiley regularly?", you wondered, knowing what he meant. Coming home meant, after a lot of work on yourself over the years, you would enjoy yourself without any outside pressures. You were amongst family and in the safe place you grew up. No prying eyes, no one commenting or second guessing what you said, wore or looked like.

"You are, but you're carefree, I think. You're not so stressed, your inner child is showing so much more, and it's so... pure. So you", he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he pulled you to walk closer to him.

They had both become adults way faster than the rest of the people their age. Charles' career forced him to grow up earlier and grow thicker skin very early on, and because you were there with him, too, you were also taken with the wave. You started working as soon as you finished your degree, and while you wouldn't complain about it, it did come with a lot of work and investment of yourself that you lost some of your younger years.

"Whenever we are not doing well, when it gets too much, we will do this. Visit your parents, do all the childish things we want to do, no matter how silly they may be", Charles stated as he rubbed your palm with his thumb, "I never want you to give up this side of you, and I'm willing to do anything to see you smile like that again and again".

Smiling at his words at chuckling slightly at the fact that there was no way this man was ever getting away from you, you held out your pinky, "I promise", you smiled as you two laced fingers, sealing it with a kiss.

[bunnisari]

DATING ARMIN ARLET! ✩

(written with black!fem!reader in mind )

I personally feel like Armin would be a surfer like cmon he’s obvi a beach boy!

He’s actually so sweet and thoughtful

he’ll bring you little flowers he finds in bushes when he’s on the way home from surfing

ass in mario kart don’t ask why i just know he is

he has a kink for your thighs he’s just such a thigh guy

when he first met you he was actually entranced by you literally.

he really really likes your natural hair and always wants the compliment it but doesn’t wanna come off as one of those people who keep touching your hair and fetishize it

will sing disney songs with you

he likes baking with you a lot!

he likes to be licked got very flustered when you liked some powdered sugar off his finger

will drop any and everything for you like if you ever call him for help , he’s already there

make out sessions <3

likes to have those nostalgic “remember when…” convos at like 4 in the morning

takes pictures of you like a facebook mom

yknow that like 2013-2017 era of music (justin bieber, the chainsmokers, twenty one pilots , etc…”

it’s his fav era of music bc it reminds him of summer and just good vibes

has not one pinch of evil in him this boy only ever has good intentions with you and would never put you in harms way

the type to stay sober and let you drink as much as you want but will stop you when he notices you can’t handle anymore

when you guys get home he always helps you get ready for bed bc you’re all over the place

he will wipe your makeup off for you if you fall asleep and absolutely refuse to get up

likes quiet moments in the morning with you, it gives him some time to really enjoy your company and peace

likes to get told what to do by you

he just really loves when you tell him to clean something up or just simply order him around. he’ll do it right away

[wooeo]

☼ BAKEY BAKE CAKEY CAKE — ateez x f!member!reader

youtube compilation (name)‘s baking live was a mess ft yunho. 1.8mil views

clip 1

—“hello everyone, hi, hello,” you leaned closer to the ipad to see the comments, “how’s everyone doing?”

you leaned back again and clapped your hands together, “i was thinking of baking something today and i thought why not do it atiny here,”

you went behind the kitchen counter, “if you hear anything from over there,” you pointed to the left, “it’s yunho. maybe if he’s feeling nice he’ll say hi at some point,”

“i’m always nice,”

you made a grimace to the ipad.

clip 2

— “oh shoot, the oven,” you stood up straight,hands covered in flour, “i forgot to turn on the oven,”

clip 3

— you screamed when you spilled most of your dry ingredients on yourself. it was silent for a second before yunho started laughing.

“luckily i remembered to wear an apron today,” you said, chuckling.

clip 4

— “i can’t get it open,” you huffed. the lid was much stronger than you. sighing in defeat, “yunho,” your hand went out of frame, “why would i open it myself when i have a man to do it for me?”

the sound of the lid coming loose was heard and the jar entered the camera's view. “thank you,” you took it from him, “see, so much easier,”

yunho laughed.

“but if you don’t have a yunho at your disposal i would recommend banging it on something — or using the something thick to the sides of the lid,”

clip 5

— “baking is actually really easy,” you commented. silence followed for a moment, “don’t look at my apron,”

clip 6

— you were about to put the cake in the oven when you stopped and turned to your digital audience, “did i put baking powder in?” you blinked before shrugging, “guess we’ll find out.

“i am not eating that cake,” yunho said, eyeing the wet concoction.

“fine. i’ll share it yeosang,”

the male gave you a side eye, “he will not want to eat that,”

clip 7

— “i’m scared to eat it,” you cut a small piece for yourself and placed it on a plate.

yunho leaned on the counter beside you, “please don’t die, we have a comeback soon,”

you paused, “that’s the only reason you don’t want me to die?!”

he shrugged, laughing when you hit him on the arm.

“so mean,”

“i’m just joking,” he ruffled your hair, “i love you,”

you held the plate with cake, “then-”

“i’m still not eating that,”

masterlist

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hi Alex!

I don’t think it’s stupid or cheesy to miss someone, I miss you too! Going back to normal after being on holiday is always horrible, especially after this one, and especially having to go back to school, I’m not a big fan! Do you go to school too? I wanted to ask if you did but I couldn’t… it’s nothing personal, by the way, sometimes I just can’t speak to people and I don’t really know why. I thought it was my decision if I did or didn’t before I met you but maybe not. My parents n’ the teachers at school call it selective mutism but I won’t bore you with all that crap.

I can’t see your new teeth but they grow fast so maybe next time! If they don’t maybe you could get some gold one’s like your dad has, unless you don’t wanna look like a pirate lol.. my littlest sister has four teeth now, and I have all my big teeth! I haven’t counted the twins though cos they’d probably bite me if I tried haha!!

Ava is the tiny one with the blonde pigtails! She’s cute but she still sleeps and poops a lot haha, she’s sorta chill though and definitely doesn’t cry as much as Wren and Byrd used to (have you noticed we’re all named after birds yet? I guess my parents thought it was cute since our last name is Finch) Wren’s the ginger one with plaits! She’s pretty funny but she’s super grumpy sometimes and likes to bite and kick (not me though, she loves me) I think it’s cos she’s tired a lot cos she never sleeps at night, kinda like dad.. they’re twins but Byrd is way different, I couldn’t get a picture of him cos he kept running off, he’s crazy like that but he’s super snuggly and loves playing doctor! He likes to pretend to break my legs so I can’t go anywhere then fix them for me haha. Brothers and sisters are fun but they can be a pain in the butt sometimes! We have a cat called Lou too, his full name is Toulouse and he likes to bring us leaves from the garden and scream about ‘em, and he loves stealing food when you’re not looking.

Dad’s been teaching mom how to cook cos she sucks at it (don’t tell her I said that though cos I always pretend it’s not THAT bad) she’s sorta getting better though so I suppose the whole practice makes perfect thing pays off eventually. I got a school project to make a lame volcano that I didn’t wanna do as well, but my parents made me do it anyway.. we all know that real volcanoes aren’t full of baking powder and vinegar though so I dunno if there was much point to it but they seemed to think it was important so I did it anyway, at least I got a picture of it “going off” I guess. No one likes homework, even if it’s supposed to be fun, right?!

It’s cool you set Amber free!! I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is now so I guess you could just think of that when you miss her? The rocks are way cooler anyway! My aunt Aspen has loads of crystals too, sometimes she even charges them in the sun or the full moon.. I keep forgetting to ask her why but I’ll try and remember so I can tell you next time!

Hahaa your poor dad with those birds! I’ll definitely keep the picture cos it’s hilarious, Wren found it the funniest but don’t worry, I’ll keep the picture safe from her sticky hands! I have a hiding spot in the attic for all the stuff I don’t want them touching. I guess birdwatching is sorta fun sometimes but you’ve gotta be quiet (easy for me I guess.. hah!) I’m not sure there’s any other birds round here other than seagulls since we live right next to the sea, those are the ones you can hear the most anyway cos they never shut up! My dad jokes that he used to be a seagull in a past life cos he’s loud and greedy like they are lol.. he’s been building me a treehouse too, I bet that’d be good for birdwatching!! It’ll be super cool once he’s finished but it’s taking ages cos he mostly does it all by himself, I try n’ help sometimes but I’m still too small to carry or lift most things.. I wanna be as strong as him one day, he can build and fix almost anything (he swears a lot during it though haha!) Do you ever think about what you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t really think about that sorta stuff cos working sounds boring, especially if it’s as lame as school!!

I’m ten, by the way! How old are you and when’s your birthday? Mine’s February 22nd. I don’t think I have a favourite food, anything my dad makes is amazing cos he’s a good cook and my mom makes the BEST pancakes! We’re always stuffed after dinner but dad says (lies) that pudding goes in a different part of your stomach so there’s always room for cake haha.. I think I like it best when he makes spicy food but Wren and Byrd hate it so he doesn’t make stuff like that too often. It’s fun to see how much you can eat before your mouth feels like it’s on fire and I’ve decided I’m gonna beat him one day so he better watch out!!!

I didn’t know what to write at first but I guess I sorta ended up writing quite a lot since I had some catching up to do! Are you and your dad on holiday in the tower or are you living there for now? It sorta sounded like you’ve been there a long time, where do you usually live? What kinda stuff does your dad dig up for work? It’d be cool if he dug up dinosaur bones!! I watched something like that recently and they were HUGE!

It’s hard to think of questions on the spot but you can talk about anything you want too! I probably owe you a million answers as well so you can ask anything you want too! I had fun reading your letter and I’m glad we can be pen-pals even if we don’t get to see each other! Maybe next time we meet in person I’ll be able to say something, but writing would still be fun too so I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?

Love Robin c:

ps. I’m keeping the funny photo of you yelling at your dad and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

pps!! I don’t have a way to print out photos yet otherwise I’d have sent some new ones. Dad gave me an old polaroid ages ago but it’s still broken, his friend said he might be able to fix it though so hopefully I can use that next time. Mom said you can have some of our old ones and the ones from her disposable camera whilst we were on holiday for now though so I’ll send those to you as soon as they come back!

[semyla]

Training & Culinary Arts

Summary: A new routine has been implemented on your daily basis now, one was training Zoro and Perona to become stronger, but also making healthy meals for them.

Edit: Sorry guys if the first chapter didn’t make any sense I didn’t know how to write it properly, my bad everyone.

Days had passed and after things calmed down, a new routine has now began. Zoro, the swordsman had started training with Mihawk, Mihawk had ask you for help in the process of it.

You would do warm ups and exercise to help him with his body and help him to become even tougher. He had already told you how he train, which you expected no less when he told you he trained like a savage.

Sports became a big thing, playing basketball became a main thing. Baseball was taken out of the list, because Zoro had thrown the ball twice too hard and two fast, one hitting a window and another either to the forest or lake, and finding them had gotten Zoro lost. 

"You are getting a lot more better now" You said bouncing the ball in position as Zoro stood in front of you.

"Really? Thanks, I only learning from the best" Zoro said smirking and carefully analyzing your moves.

The moment you try making a move Zoro makes one too, but a very bad one. He decide that maybe going at full speed and force he had be able to take the ball from you, for doing both of your legs tangled up making you almost fall. Zoro  had panicked and grabbed you.

"Good job Roronoa, you just won a charge, a personal foul charge" Mihawk said as he had sat down watching the whole game, as you hang on to Zoro's hand (He would be lying if he said wasn’t ready to jump in when he saw you). You stood up from his hand.

"Sorry, you okey?" Zoro asked you, letting go.

"Yeah, but remember the rules" You said, and through out the game you won because he would shot the ball at the wrong hoop, Mihawk counted.

You stood aside to see Mihawk and Zoro training, while Perona flew next to you.

"You should be training too" You said turning to her with your arms crossed.

"Me? I don't need training!" Perona responded.

"You only use your devil-fruit, your ghost can't even affect Mihawk, even if he didn't attack you, what if he did? Or someone who had the same ability as him? Your power would be useless" You said.

Perona tries to use her ghost against you as. Petty attempt to prove you wrong, to which it didn't work. The ghost couldn't pass you, it was like a barrier only annoyingly surrounding you, to which you shush away.

"We start training tomorrow morning" You said walking away.

You discovered that Perona likes volleyball and a bit of tennis and cricket, she didn't like exercise a lot, so doing you made her a small routine to follow at least for 2 to 3 days a week max. 

You also had to always make sure to never put Zoro and Perona together playing sports because they either start fighting or do something stupid, either way fighting was always in the middle of it.

Maybe trying to do a You and Mihawk team up vs Zoro and Perona was a bad idea, and changing it to Mihawk and Perona vs You and Zoro was a better idea, nonetheless the fighting still happen regardless what team they were.

~~~

Just as much as training became a big thing so did eating. Again food was a thing you needed to make sure was enough, but also enough for you to bake things outside of your daily basis and snacks too.

Long time ago you learn how to make this protein powder, as you grew up to were able to create a different versions of it and mastering on the making of a protein shake. You would give one of these to Mihawk once in a while, but now that the new guest.

You took Zoro to the kitchen, showing the powder and how you turned to protein shake.

"You know eating well would help you just as much as training" You said putting the shake in front of him.

He looked at it and questioning it.

"Don't look at it like that, try it" You said, and Zoro took a sip, immediately liking it.

"This is actually good, how do you make it?" Zoro asked.

"Are you interested of having more? I make this for me and my lover.." You stop talking because Zoro looked at you weird.

"Don't start. Anyway, I can teach you how to make the powder and turn it into a protein, this can help you to maintain a healthy body, I can even teach you how to do different flavors" You said, at first annoyed, but letting it slide as you talk to him.

"Amazing" Zoro kept drinking it.

"I think I had like to try more of this often, you got the receptive?" Zoro asked.

"Of course, you think you had be able to do it?" You asked, very skeptical.

"No, my crew has a cook" Zoro said, relieving you knowing now that he would

"Your crew? You never talk about them much other than your captain" You pointed out, remembering a few times he had talked about him and how Mihawk had suspicious he put his pride aside for his captain.

"You know mentioning my captain he would love drinking this too. The cook and I.. don't get along, but I doubt he will refuse to make it, especially if I get Luffy to try it" Zoro said, you listened.

"I'm glad, I hope they like it as much as you do, i thought it would be very sweet for you. You have almost the same taste as Mihawk, not too sweet" You pointed out.

"No, it's the perfect like this" He reassure you.

Perona enters the kitchen, your judgment looking for a snack to eat.

"Just in time. Perona I made you something for you" You said, putting the protein shake in front of her.

"Huh? What is this?" She flew over to look at it, her drink was pink very different from the one Zoro was drinking.

"Try it, it's strawberry flavor" You said. Perona looked at Zoro seeing how he was enjoying his.

Perona tries it, and her expression show how much she liked it. Later on she had a bagel you made, also protein based.

"Love, I made you something" You said coming in to the living room where Mihawk had a book that you had brought him form your trip.

"I saw the other two with the protein shakes you made, they seem to like it" Mihawh said.

"They did, I made your favorite too, would you like a bagel too? I made sure it doesn't jelly on it" you asked him, putting the shake in front of him.

"Not now, i'm not hungry" Mihawk said looking at it, you nodded and kissed his cheek leaving the room to give him some space alone to read his book.

[buckiverse]

Sweet Surprises

inspired by eternal attachment :3

contents: fluff, suggestive if you squint, angst if you squint. friends-to-lovers vibe. confession *heart eyes*. 

summary: you tried to surprise zayne for his birthday but it failed. 

word count: 1.4k

notes: I havent written in so long, forgive any typos

______________________________________________________________

★It was the day before Zayne’s birthday, and your procrastination caught up to you as you stared at various ingredients. “Vanilla…chocolate…strawberry… maybe I bought too many base flavors,” you muttered. You sorted through the assortment of toppings—macaroons, blueberries, even edible flowers. Who knew you could flavor a cake with flowers? 

★You and Zayne had often talked about his love for sweets, but nothing compared to the day you both stood before the macaroon display at your favorite cafe. 

“What flavor are you gonna get, Zayne?” you asked, already eyeing a few of your favorites. 

He grinned slightly, “what if we get them all?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Get them all? And put them where??”

“In my fridge, of course,” he replied as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

“Even so, we can’t finish all these by ourselves. How about we pick a few.” 

Zayne leaned closer, his voice softening, “Each macaroon not only tastes good but tells its own little story. Let’s try them all, hmm?”

★You smiled at the memory, whispering, “He’s so cute,” but your smile faded as you remembered the decision ahead. Zayne’s tastes in desserts made choosing the right one for his birthday even harder. And time was running out—this was supposed to be a surprise. 

★Another critical mention: you are a terrible baker. Between your hectic schedule as a hunter and lack of practice, you barely had time to eat properly, let alone learn how to bake. You glanced at the cookbook, the pages worn from your frantic flipping. Then it struck you—why not combine two things he loves? A macaroon cake! A… “cakaroon,” you mused.

★You decided on a chocolate base, grabbing flour, eggs, sugar, and cocoa powder. You mixed them, clumsily splashing batter onto Zayne’s counters. As you worked, one of your favorite songs began to play, and you softly sang along, your mind drifting back to memories with Zayne. 

★It all started when you were kids playing together. Zayne was always the quiet, stoic type, making teasing him all the more fun. As you both grew older, life pulled you in different directions. You moved to another part of Linkon with your granny; years had passed without seeing him before you knew it. One day, you landed a job at the Hunters Association, which came with a new health plan and a new doctor. You still remember the shock when you realized your new primary care physician was Zayne. At first, you thought it was a coincidence—after all, Zayne isn’t an uncommon name. But then, he walked in, the same Zayne you’d known since childhood, standing before you—a man now. 

★The truth is, you always liked Zayne. But you never quite knew how to communicate that. Maybe this cake could be a way of saying, “Happy birthday—by the way, I like you.” 

★You finished mixing the batter and poured it into two cake pans. “Mmh,” you nodded as you slid them into the oven. “Things are going good. I hope he likes this,” you thought, allowing yourself a moment of hope. 

★You sat on a stool by the kitchen island, glancing at the clock and humming to music. Suddenly, you heard the click of the front door. “Shit!” You thought, leaping out of your seat so fast you nearly slipped. During your panic, Zayne walked into the room. 

“y/n?” he called, his voice laced with confusion. He approached, reaching for your arm. 

You turned, face flushing. “Hey…” you said, trying to keep calm as you stood up slowly. 

“Why are you here?” Zayne asked, his brows furrowed. 

“I—I was going to surprise you,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“But it seems you got off work sooner than I thought….” 

Zayne looked at you, his gaze softening. But that didn’t stop you from talking. “I—I planned to surprise you, you know. Your birthday is so soon, and I know you love sweets. So I bought all these ingredients, lost track of time because I couldn’t decide what to do, and then looked up. You got home sooner than I thought, but I wanted the cake ready when you got here because this is supposed to be a surprise.” You stumbled over your words, going on and on about your plans for his birthday. 

Your cheeks heated up when you realized Zayne was smiling at you—that half-smile he always did when amused. 

A playful glint struck his eyes, “Should I leave and come back in an hour to give you more time to finish?” 

His teasing made your face even hotter, and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “No, no! I—well, I just wanted it to be perfect, that’s all,” you mumbled, looking down.

Zayne flashed that half-smile and stepped closer, gently lifting his hand to touch your cheek. “I don’t dislike it.”

The alarm for the forgotten cakes went off, breaking the tension between you two. You quickly turned and rushed to the oven, pulling the cakes out before they burned.

“Why don’t we finish the cake together?” Zayne suggested, his voice still light with amusement.

You placed the cakes on the counter, almost burning yourself as the hot pans grazed your fingertips. Zayne leaned over to inspect them, a teasing grin on his lips. “These are quite lopsided,” he remarked.

You blushed profusely, realizing you didn’t level out the batter earlier. Still feeling a little embarrassed, you watched Zayne walk over to his cabinets, pulling out a small container of toothpicks. 

He took one out and handed it to you. “Try this. Stick it in the center. If it comes out clean, they’re done.” 

You took the toothpick and gently pushed it into the cake. Relief washed over you as it came out completely clean. “Looks like it’s ready.”, you said, glancing up at Zayne’s emerald eyes. 

He carefully lifted the pans and placed them on the stove burners to cool. “What flavor were you thinking for the icing?” he asked, his tone more curious now. 

“I was planning on a raspberry filing,” you replied, your voice softening. “Like the macaroons we got a couple of weeks ago.” 

Zayne’s eyes lit up at the memory. “Indeed, that’s an excellent choice.” 

The two of you worked side by side, mixing fresh raspberries, chocolate shavings, and cream. The icing filled the kitchen with a sweet and tangy scent. As you stirred the ingredients together, a thought crossed your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice it.

“Do you ever get lonely?” you asked, your tone more vulnerable than intended. 

Zayne paused, his brows furrowed slightly as he considered the question, “Why do you ask?” 

You hesitated, then continued, “I was just thinking…  You’re working the day before your birthday. Doesn’t that get lonely? You spend so much time helping others, but who’s there for you?” 

He sighed softly, his gaze dropping to the mixing bowl. “I love my work. It’s fulfilling to perform surgeries and make a difference. But, yes, I suppose there are moments when I feel alone. What about you?” 

You stared at the swirling mixture, the vibrant red of the raspberries reminding you of the warmth that had once filled your life. “Sometimes, I’m too busy hunting wanderers to notice how I feel. I often convince myself I’m okay because I don’t have time to think otherwise. But lately, especially since Granny and Caleb passed—it’s been harder. Their absence is always there, even if I try not to feel it. “

Zayne’s hand reached out, gently covering yours. The touch was soft, but it broke through the fog of your thoughts. You looked up to find his eyes filled with sincerity, a quiet understanding that words couldn’t convey. 

“I’m here for you,” he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. 

The loneliness that weighed so heavily on you seemed to lift for a moment. You moved your hand to hold Zayne’s fully, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. In that shared silence, you knew you weren’t alone. 

Zayne gazed deeply into your eyes, wanting to see the soul that lay beneath. Tranquility filled the room, and the gentle strings of music were the only sound that broke the silence. 

Zayne leaned in closer, your lips almost touching; the tension between you was palpable. 

You lifted yourself, balancing on your tiptoes. Gently, you kissed Zayne's lips, feeling your heart skip a beat as your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, yet it carried an intensity that spoke of the emotions brewing deep within you. Your heart raced as he held you close, your veins pulsating beneath your skin. 

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his emerald eyes never leaving yours.

______________________________________________________________

what did ya'll think :333

planning on writing a pt 2 maybe

ignore that I did not finish coding the stars LMAO

[littlenahsstuff]

Can you plz do a Bridget x reader??? Perhaps super fluffy. Like a sunshine x grumpy trope?

Without baking soda

Bridget x reader.

You are making something for Bridget and suck at it but she can’t refuse you.

Warnings: not proofread! Sorry this is so short!

Word count: ~800 words

~~~~~

Bridget was the best at almost anything she set her mind to, baking, baking was where she really could shine. Y/n didn’t know why out of all the ways to be a supportive girlfriend, she chose Bridget’s thing. She would just huff and say it was more personal. That she wanted to prove to Bridget she could do more than-

“Sit there and look pretty.”

Of course Bridget didn’t mean it, that Y/n couldn’t, but she still wanted to be a help. So, to prove that, Y/n would make muffins. They didn’t require any fancy filling or frosting and she always saw her mom making them when she was younger, it looked easy!

“Add… what’s a tsp?” She muttered to herself. She needed to add salt. She stood there for about five minutes trying to figure out what the cookbook people meant. She was about to give up at the start when she remembered the tiny tools also had labels on them for the amounts. So far she had sugar and flour, maybe too much of each but those required the bigger tiny tools. She quickly went onto the next thing… baking powder. Again using the tsp spoon thing.

You’d think she would’ve remembered from all her times watching Bridget bake but then again, all she was doing while Bridget was baking was gaze lovingly at her girlfriend’s face.

Okay then, “baking soda?” She puzzled. “Wait but what the hell’s the difference?” Y/n, prior to baking had gotten all of her supplies ready… except she forgot the baking soda.

“Is it like- baking powder and soda maybe, I don’t remember seeing anything…” Y/n glanced at her drink…a ginger ale. “No… it couldn’t be…” she got the brilliant idea, just a splash of soda in baking powder aught to make baking soda.

So she put just a dabble of ginger ale in her baking powder. It started bubbling but stopped.

“Perfect!” She said. Y/n went through the rest of the directions practically perfectly. the oven was the right temperature, she was extra careful with the butter and oil. She was doing great. She thought so too… until they came out of the oven rock solid. They still were delicious, but far too crunchy for anyone’s liking.

Nevertheless, she wanted to give them to Bridget, how much she wanted to changed.

She went on her grumpy little way to Bridget’s dorm, each step making her rethink the whole thing. Poor thing shook the whole way.

She knocked on the door. Bridget had said she didn’t have to, but it was always a safe measure.

“Come in!” The door creaks open and closed. Bridget gets up off of her bed and skips over to you, her arms wrap around you.

“Hi there,” you say. Your cheeks heating up.

“Hi!” She looks down. “Ooh what are these?” She points to the covered tray. You shrug.

“Um, just something I made for you” Y/n mumble, looking away. Bridget smiles and squeals.

She’s practically buzzing, “oh my, for me?” Y/n coughs, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand.

“Well… don’t get too excited, they’re not the prettiest. And um, I didn’t try them.” She laughs bitterly. Bridget smile softens. She takes the tray from you.

She unwraps them and while her frown doesn’t falter, the baker-in-the-making sees a small twitch in her eye.

“Nonsense love, these look edible.” Bridget pries one out of the tin and holds it in her hand. “This looks delightful even.” You scoff.

“No need to sugarcoat. I know it’s not that good. But even if you hate them could you try it please?” Y/n’s voice is soft. She tried not to wince as she takes a second look at the muffin.

“I was planning on eating it anyways” she rebuts, biting into the baked good with a crunch. She powers through the chew. Y/n is trying not to show she cares, when in reality, she is on the edge of her proverbial seat.

Bridget swallows and hums, “there’s a certain taste to it, but I can’t place my finger on it. It’s like lemony almost. The texture is certainly interesting, but it’s no different than snacking on a pretzel. It’s still lovely my heart.” Y/n’s shoulders relax as she huffs out a relieved sigh.

“Glad to hear, um yeah that’s ginger ale… it’s uh… an improvisation.” Y/n shyly rocks back and forth.

Bridget sets the rest of the tray down and pulls Y/n if for another hug. The heat returns immediately as Bridget thanks you.

“This was a lovely surprise thank you.” Y/n shrugs in her arms.

“Yeah no problem, I definitely need more practice. Surprised you didn’t chip a tooth.” She grumbles but smiles softly after. Overall she’s just grateful Bridget liked the effort. She squeezes Bridget once more before pulling apart.

“Harder har, no of course not. Anyways, to show you how grateful I am, why don’t we go cuddle my love?” Y/n nods. She’d never verbally admit it, but being held and holding Bridget was her most favorite thing in the world.

[badger-tales]

Cupcakes// R.L x Reader

a/n: this was such a sweet little request and the story is tooth rottingly sweet i hope this makes you feel a bit better pooks

word count: 2.2k

Request: hello! I would like to request a remus x fem reader where they are baking cupcakes and she keeps forgetting one of the ingredients like eggs or something, and it’s like a recurring thing like it happened last time she tried to bake something too. She’s usually good at baking but she keeps making mistakes so once the cupcakes are ready she realizes what she forgot, then she cries and remus comforts her? (Based on a true story where the past two times i’ve baked cupcakes/cake i keep forgetting a vital ingredient lol)

Thanks in advance!!!

The kitchen was cloaked in a golden hue, the soft light of late afternoon casting a warm, honeyed glow over the counters and cupboards. The air was thick with the sweet aroma of vanilla and sugar, delicate and comforting, the kind of scent that wrapped around you like a hug. You stood at the counter, rolling up your sleeves with a sense of determination, feeling the fabric of your shirt bunch up against your elbows. Today was the day. This time, you were going to get it right.

Behind you, Remus leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed casually over his chest, that familiar, amused smile tugging at his lips. His eyes were soft, filled with a fondness that always seemed to appear whenever he watched you, though there was a glint of humor there too. He’d seen this scene play out before—twice, in fact. The first time, it had been eggs you’d forgotten, and the second… was it baking powder? It didn’t matter. What mattered was today, and you were determined not to repeat the past.

“Well,” Remus’ voice broke the quiet hum of the kitchen, deep and smooth like melted chocolate. He pushed off the doorframe with a lazy grace, stepping up to stand beside you at the counter. The warmth of his presence, the slight brush of his arm against yours, made your heart flutter just a little. “What’s on the menu today, love?”

You glanced up at him, momentarily distracted by the way the sunlight hit his hair, casting strands of it in a burnished bronze glow. He always looked so effortlessly handsome, so comfortable in his own skin, and that crooked smile he gave you made your chest tighten in the best way. You quickly tore your eyes away and flipped through the recipe book, more for reassurance than actual need. “Cupcakes,” you replied confidently, though there was a teasing lilt in your voice. “Just a simple vanilla batch.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, a soft chuckle rumbling in his throat. “I remember the last time you said it was ‘just a simple’ cake.”

Your lips curved into a smirk as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. “Shut up,” you huffed playfully, nudging him with your elbow, though there was no real bite to your words. His nearness always made it hard to be anything but soft. “That was different.”

He let out a low laugh, the sound like music to your ears. “Mmm, if I recall, it was missing a key ingredient,” he teased, his tone gentle but mischievous. The kind of teasing that came with a twinkle in his eyes, not meant to wound, but to pull you closer to him.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you fought the urge to hide your face in the recipe book. Memories of your previous mishaps—both of them so vividly etched into your mind—rushed back. Twice now, you had been so certain of your abilities, and twice you had overlooked something vital, even with the ingredients sitting right in front of you. It was hard not to feel just a bit embarrassed, even though you knew Remus would never hold it against you.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not happening again,” you muttered, more to yourself than him, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

Remus grinned, clearly enjoying your determination. He leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours, the warmth of him seeping through the fabric of your shirt. “Well, I’ll be right here,” he said, his voice softer now, filled with that quiet reassurance he always carried. “In case you need me.”

The words lingered between you like a promise, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat. He had a way of making even the simplest sentences feel like they held something more, something unspoken but deeply felt. You offered him a small smile, feeling the comfort of his presence settle over you like a blanket, and with him standing so close, you felt a renewed sense of focus.

You got to work, hands moving with precision as you measured out the flour and sugar, the soft sound of ingredients being sifted mixing with the occasional scrape of a bowl. Every once in a while, you felt Remus’ gaze on you, and when you glanced up, his eyes were filled with that gentle, patient look you adored. It was like he had all the time in the world to watch you, no rush, no pressure—just quiet admiration.

“Bowl, whisk, flour…” you muttered under your breath, running through the checklist in your mind as you cracked an egg into the mixture. You were so focused, determined not to make the same mistake again, that you barely noticed when Remus started speaking.

He filled the space between you with soft conversation, his voice like a steady undercurrent. He told you stories—ones you’d heard before but never tired of—about his time at Hogwarts, about James and Sirius, and all the ridiculous pranks they’d pulled. His stories always made you laugh, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his friends, the fondness there as if he were reliving the moments himself. His voice, so calm and soothing, was like the perfect background music, grounding you as you worked.

But as you poured the batter into the cupcake liners, that familiar, nagging feeling crept up on you. Something felt off. The batter had seemed a little thicker than usual, but you brushed it aside, determined that this time—this time—it would be perfect.

Remus, ever the opportunist, had already swiped the spatula from your hands, licking the remaining batter with a grin that made your heart melt.

“Remus!” you laughed, shaking your head at his impatience. But honestly, it was endearing. He had a way of making everything feel lighter, funnier—like you could laugh through any mistake, any bump in the road, as long as he was there beside you.

“I couldn’t wait,” he said, his smile widening, eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned over to steal another bit of batter from the bowl. “It’s your fault, really. You’re too good at this.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. Even though, deep down, that little knot of uncertainty still twisted in your stomach, you couldn’t help but feel a bit lighter with him here, sharing the space, his laughter mixing with the sweet scent of baking.

“You’re worse than Sirius with how impatient you are,” you teased, your voice light and playful as you elbowed Remus gently, the movement making him sway just a little. You were both standing in the middle of a half-cleaned kitchen, remnants of flour dusting the counters, bowls and spoons piled up in a disorganized mess. It didn’t matter though; the atmosphere was warm, filled with the easy banter and closeness that came so naturally between you two.

He smirked, his lips curling up in that way that sent a flutter through your chest, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly handsome he looked, even with flour smudged on his shirt. “Sirius would’ve had half the batter gone before it even made it to the oven,” he replied, his voice tinged with amusement as he leaned slightly closer, as if sharing some inside joke only the two of you would understand.

You laughed softly, the sound filling the small space as you moved to finish cleaning up. The familiarity of it all—his presence beside you, the smell of the vanilla-scented batter still lingering in the air—made everything feel so… right. It was moments like these that made you forget about the little mishaps, the times you felt scatterbrained or unsure. Because with Remus, it didn’t matter. He had a way of making everything feel like it was part of some grand, shared adventure, no matter how small the task.

The cupcakes baked quietly in the oven as you and Remus settled at the kitchen table, your conversation flowing effortlessly, like it always did. There was something magical about these moments, the kind where time seemed to slip away unnoticed. The kitchen was filled with the sound of your laughter, his chuckles soft and rumbling, a warmth that curled into your very bones. He told you stories, little bits of nostalgia from his days at Hogwarts, sharing memories of pranks gone awry, of Sirius and James' mischief, and the way Lily always managed to keep them in line with a single look.

Every now and then, he’d lean in just a bit closer, and your knees would bump under the table, sending a small thrill up your spine. His hand would graze yours ever so slightly, just enough to make your heart race in that quiet, comfortable way that came with being near him.

Soon, the smell of baking cupcakes filled the room, a sweet, rich scent that made your stomach rumble with anticipation. You could feel the excitement bubbling up in your chest as you glanced over at the oven, already imagining the perfect, golden cupcakes coming out, ready to be frosted and devoured.

But when you pulled the tray out of the oven and inspected the cupcakes, your heart sank. Something was off. They hadn’t risen properly—flat and pale, they looked more like deflated lumps than the fluffy cupcakes you’d imagined. The sight of them hit you harder than you expected, disappointment settling deep in your chest like a weight. 

Remus, ever perceptive, must have noticed the sudden shift in your expression. Without a word, he moved from the table and came to stand beside you, peering over your shoulder at the tray. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, concerned. There was no teasing now, just that gentle warmth he always carried, the kind that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

You stared down at the sad, deflated cupcakes, frowning as you replayed the steps of the recipe in your head, trying to figure out where it had gone wrong. Then, like a bolt of lightning, the realization hit you, and you groaned audibly, slapping a hand to your forehead in exasperation. “Oh no… I must have used the regular flour instead of the self raising flour.”

For a moment, there was silence. And then Remus, unable to contain himself, let out a soft laugh, though he quickly tried to smother it, his shoulders shaking with the effort. “Are you sure baking is really your thing, love?” he teased, his voice light but affectionate, as if trying to coax a smile out of you.

Normally, you would have brushed it off with a laugh of your own, but this time, the disappointment was too much. The frustration of two previous failed attempts, the way you wanted so badly for this to go perfectly—especially with Remus here—made your chest tighten. You’d wanted to impress him, to show him that you weren’t always this scatterbrained, but here you were again, forgetting something as basic as eggs.

Tears welled up in your eyes, hot and prickling, and before you could stop them, they spilled over, streaking down your cheeks. You turned your face away, embarrassed by the sudden wave of emotion, but Remus noticed immediately. His teasing expression softened into one of concern, and without hesitation, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle, protective embrace.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as his hands rubbed comforting circles on your back. “It’s okay. Don’t cry over cupcakes.”

You sniffled, trying to wipe at your eyes, feeling ridiculous for getting so upset over something as silly as baking. “I just…” You trailed off, your voice cracking slightly. “I keep messing up, and it’s stupid. It’s just cupcakes.”

He held you tighter, his warmth enveloping you completely. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, his heartbeat strong and reassuring. “It’s not stupid,” he said gently, his voice full of quiet understanding. “You’ve been trying so hard, and sometimes things just… don’t go the way we want them to. But that’s okay.”

You buried your face in his chest, letting the soft fabric of his shirt soak up your tears. His scent—faintly like pine and old books—calmed you, grounding you in the present moment, reminding you that with him here, nothing was ever as bad as it seemed.

“And for what it’s worth,” he continued, his lips brushing lightly against the top of your head, “I think you’re an amazing baker. Sure, you might forget an ingredient here and there…” His voice was warm, laced with affection as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair. “But who doesn’t?”

His words, spoken with such sincerity, made your heart swell. You let out a small laugh, though it was shaky, as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes. There was nothing but love and understanding in his gaze, and it made all the frustration, all the self-doubt, seem to melt away in that moment. 

With him here, holding you close, reminding you that it was okay to make mistakes, you realized that maybe it didn’t matter if the cupcakes were perfect. As long as you had Remus by your side, you could handle anything

[muzansfangs]

They accidentally see you naked.

Starring: Abarai Renji, Aizen Sosuke, Urahara Kisuke, Haschwalth Jugram.

Format: short imagines.

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, language, horny thoughts, implied sexual tension on previous encounters, masturbation, f!reader, suggestive themes, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (m!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), slight altered narration of the canon events for Aizen’s part, possible spoiler in Haschwalth part and mention to kidnapping (?).

Plot: what happens when you are naked and they accidentally walk on you, catching a full glimpse of your bare body in all its glory? Hormones cannot always be contained.

PART ONE | PART TWO

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Abarai Renji.

Rummaging through Orihime’s clothes, covered in flour and baking powder from head to toe, you checked the clock briefly. You had to make it in time, or else you were going to fail your best friend’s expectations and mess up her plan to spend a lovely night with Ichigo. When she told you she had convinced him to join her for dinner, you wasted no time in helping her cooking something decent to eat. You were her best friend, after all. You were not going to let her date get ruined by a predictable food poison, considering Orihime’s creations. Additionally, you cared about Ichigo too much to let him die like that.

Now the question is: ‘how did you end up in that situation, anyway?’.

You had spent almost the entire afternoon cooking by her side, when she suddenly remembered that she had to go to buy something to drink and meet up with Sado. You had no problem in taking care of the kitchen without her assistance and you still needed to cook the dessert anyway, therefore you assured her that, by the time she had made her comeback, she would have found a delicious cake in the fridge. Trusting in your abilities blindly, Orihime left and you wasted no time in collecting the ingredients for the cake.

Odds, however, were not in your favor. Literally.

When you finally spotted the packet of flour, you sighed in contempt for it was settled on the top shelf of the cupboard far from your reach. Now, confinding into your skills, you dragged a chair towards the counter and climbed on top of it. The clumsy version of yourself decided to show up, though, and as you grasped the packet, you lost your balance and fell down on the floor. Your grip on the packet loosend and it ended up ripping, causing the content to fall all over yourself. Never in your life something like that had happened to you and you felt in an awful distress.

Wiping away some powder from your face, you stood up and dashed to your best friend’s bedroom. You were pretty sure you could find something to wear and, honestly, Orihime would have not minded lending you some of her clothes.

Yet, your best friend was tired of you and Renji’s dynamics. Sneaky glances, snippy comments, lingering touches. The attraction was evident.

Therefore, she had set up a trap for you. As you finally pulled out some red shorts and an oversized t-shirt from a drawer, Renji Abarai was already on his way to Orihime house, totally unaware that the only person he would have found in there was you. Why? Your smart friend had made him believe her house would have hosted a small party with your whole group of friends and he had accepted the invitation.

Truth to be told, it took her a while to convince him but, when she mentioned you were going to be there, he had changed his mind.

Tossing your dirty clothes carelessly on the floor, you ran to the bathroom and took a quick shower to remove the flour from your hair, cleavage and improbable parts of your body. Renji, in the meanwhile, knocked on the front door, calling out your name along with Ichigo’s, Rukia’s, Uryu’s and Orihime’s ones. Naturally, you could not hear him and he thought that kicking the door open was a good idea.

You had just stepped out of the shower and, since you thought you were alone, you had not wrapped a towel around your naked body to make your way back to the bedroom, where you had left the clean clothes you had picked.

Now, as you stepped out of the bathroom and flicked your gaze up, you thought you had been a victim of a concussion and that you obviously were having an allucination. Renji’s rounded eyes and his parted lips, though, made you realize it was real. He was there, in front of you. Squeaking out in panic, you blushed and ran back to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you as you felt your heart thrumming into your chest.

“What the hell are you doing here?! You are such a moron!” you snapped from behind the door, knowing damn well that Renji was probably still standing in the corridor and trying to figure out what on the holy Earth had just happened.

“Me?! What the hell are you doing naked?! I never met someone walking around a fucking house completely naked!” Renji fired back, banging his fist on the door in frustration.

Despite being irritated by your antics, Renji could not deny that the sight of your curves, of your naked skin, was tattooed into his mind. You had no idea of the amount of nights he had spent thinking about how your skin tasted after a bath, or how it would have felt like ripping your clothes off of you. You were absolutely beautiful, a sight to behold, the woman he had to make his.

In the privacy of his bedroom, in the middle of the night, he had moaned your name as he had touched himself in maddness and desire. How many times he had imagined you, mouth hanging open, writhing beneath him, as he rutted his hips onto yours. And now, now he had had the chance to see how beautiful you really were without any item shielding your magnificent body from his eyes.

“You’re such a jerk! I didn’t know you were coming over! — you quipped suddenly, grasping a towel and wrapping it around yourself — Also, what are you even doing here?! You should leave and I should too, before Orihime and Ichigo come back” you reasoned, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Gosh, your face was still beet red and you were visibly shaken.

Renji Abarai had seen you naked. Your crush had just had a full clear view of your bare body. It was not exactly the way you had planned to let him see you like that for the first time.

Renji scoffed “What? I’ve come over for the stupid party Orihime is hosting…” he replied, furrowing his brows at your statement.

You opened the door hesitantly, peeking out to lock eyes with him “What? Are you serious?” you whispered, relaxing a bit as you tried to connect the dots. Oh, now you could see it. Inoue Orihime had tricked you and that idiot of Renji!

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose as the red-haired shinigami stared at you dumbfounded. What was wrong with him? He stared at you, hooded eyes and a weird expression on his face, without saying a word. Well, of course, he was still fighting back the urge to pin you up against the door and fuck you senseless.

“She trolled us” you stated, folding your arms against your chest and leaning your back against the wall, in a pathetic attempt to snap him out of the catatonic status he had fallen into. It was pointless. At the lack of feedback, you let your eyes trailing down his body and you gawked at the prominent tent you saw in his pants.

You clasped your hand over your mouth and slapped his chest, earning a grunt from him along with a homicidal glance.

“Oi!” he protested, clenching his fists down his sides and taking a menacing step closer to you.

“Did you get a boner from staring at me?! You are such a pig, Renji, o my God! I can’t believe I have a cr—…” you cut yourself off as soon as you saw Renji’s features relaxing and a smug smile crossing his lips. You were so done with yourself.

Did you just confess your feelings to him?

“Fuck” you uttered, hiding your face behind your hands and turning your back at him.

His hand softly squeezing your shoulder, though, caught you off guard. You felt his chest gracing your back and you slowly lowered your hands from your face. You were even more surprised to feel his arms gently snaking around your waist and involving you in a gentle hug, despite his abrasive nature. It was pleasantly unexpected.

“Hey, it’s fine. It’s clear that we like each others. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but you’re hot. — he started, propping his chin on top of your head — Why don’t you get dressed and we go out on a date? That’d be nice, right?” he asked, swallowing his pride as he came to terms with the fact that he could not truly stay away from you for any longer.

You felt your face heat up but smiled and nodded your head, before glancing up and him “Oh, it looks like someone truly got some balls down here, huh? I’m totally in!” you teased him, chuckling and dashing down to Orihime’s bedroom to get ready.

Renji rolled his eyes “I swear, I’ll fuck that sassy attitude out of you one day” he shouted after you, before entering the bathroom to get rid of that little problem making his ripped jeans uncomfortable.

Urahara Kisuke.

Working with Kisuke was both stressful and enjoyable at the same time. He was hilarious, kind and generous, but extremely lazy. That peculiar trait of his personality, of course, was enough to make you slightly jumpy and sleep-deprived because you had to take care of the shop both day and night. Why did you do it? Well, at first, you needed some extra money to pay for your studies and you craved some indipendence, but then you started to develop a small crush for the blonde shop-keeper and working by his side became more of a self-indulgent activity than a duty.

Now, when the time of festivities came, you were well prepared to run around the shop to satisfy your costumers. Sometimes, you even decorated the shelves and put on some soft music to cheer up the atmosphere. Indeed, that was exactly what you did that day: it was carnival, after all.

However, today, you had had the splendid idea to dress up as a bunny. Or, to be fair, a sensual bunny. You knew Kisuke Urahara like the back of your hand and you perfectly knew what you would have done to him by ambling around with those lovely black, soft ears over your head and a tight leather corset embracing your curves. You had decided to push his buttons, to test his self-control and, by the time you walked into the shop that morning dressed up like this, you did not fail to notice the way his eyes widened even so slightly as he hid his grin behind his fan.

Working by your side was the equivalent of experiencing his personal living hell. Every single time you passed by him, you made sure to brush your gloved fingers against his chest, your lashes fluttering in a dramatically slow manner that made his pants tight. You were playing with fire, but it was a dangerous game you were willing to play.

Kisuke was obviously intrigued. He had dreamt about you since Ichigo had introduced you two. The way you always looked dashing, the way your glossy lips captivated him and made him pant in the privacy of his bedroom, as soon as your shift ended and you left, was mind-blowing. He was so tired of having to reach his climax alone. He wanted nothing more than your soft, plumped lips wrapped around his cock as he held your hair behind your nape for him to thrust into your mouth easily.

“Nice choice of items” he had purred eventually, watching you from behind his blonde eyelashes, as his tongue teasingly darted out of his mouth to lick a stripe off of his lollipop.

What an infuriatingly handsome son of a bitch he was.

The way he looked at you as his tongue kept on savouring the sugary candy was making your mouth dry. He had read your cards, had he not? You pressed your thighs together, mentally cursing his name as you glanced up at him with a slight blush.

Oh, how you badly you wanted him to treat your pussy the way he was licking that stupid lollipop. The former Captain had apparently decided to mess with your head.

You cleared your throat and hummed, pretending not to be affected by his words and antics “Thank you so much” you simply replied, a thin-lipped smile crossing your face.

He stared at you intently for a few seconds, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, before he decided to taunt you again “Ah, I wonder how good they’d look on the floor. — he casually commented — I guess I’ll never know, though”.

You felt your stomach twist and your fingers curled on the edge of the counter as you let his words sink in. You had won, but he had clearly called your bluff. The time left to spend in his company was mercifully short, by now. The night had veiled the sky and you had closed the shop. Walking home alone in that short dress was not a great idea, therefore you had brought some clothes with you to change.

Without saying a word, you simply grabbed your bag from the shelf and walked off to the back of the shop. You took off your gloves, your skirt, your stupid corset and allowed yourself to breathe properly again. Your chest was completely exposed and your panties were so thin that it felt like you were not wearing them at all.

Before you had time to reach for the zip of your bag, the door swung open and you shrieked in embarrassment as Kisuke’s voice rang in your ears.

“I was thinking that maybe we could—…” he started, but he never finished that sentence.

His lollipop slipped from his fingers, clattering on the floor as a shaky breath left his parted lips. You, the girl he wanted to ask out that very night, were standing a few feet away from him in only her thong and those cute little bunny ears he had fantasized about for the last four hours. God, how badly he wanted to see them fall from your head as you rode him to exhaustion. You looked like a goddess and, consequentially, he could not tear his eyes from your naked frame.

“Kisuke!” you squirmed, your arms trying to cover your naked breasts as he did not seem to be able to move.

“I am so sorry, but you look so beautiful it’d be a shame to look away…” he breathed out, making you blush and reach down to unzip the bag laying at your feet with one hand, careful not to expose your nipples to his attentive eyes once again.

“Wait!” he fretted again and you flicked your gaze up on him again.

He took his hat off, a thing you had rarely seen him doing before. His eyes seemed to twinkle in a malicious light, but they were kind “How can I make it up to you?” he asked, keeping the eye-contact with you.

The tension was tangible and, honestly, what was the use in dressing up again if he had already took a full view of your naked body? Was it not supposed to happen sooner or later? You had been eye-fucking each others for hours, after all.

You sighed and arched an eyebrow up, cocking your head to the side as you finally found the courage to speak and shame left your body.

“Well, since you dropped your lollipop and you have nothing to run your tongue on anymore, why don’t you give me a taste of your skills? You surely had some fun in driving me mad too, right?” you teased him, leaning your back against the wall and winking at him from across the room.

Urahara Kisuke, the damn shop-keeper, smirked and kicked the lollipop to the side with his foot, before reaching you with a few quick strides. He looked at you up and down, a faint blush on his cheeks, as he hooked his calloused hands underneath your thighs and lifted you up.

“My, my… I figured I was going to kiss your other lips by the end of the day. — he commented chuckling, as he settled you on top of a table — I’m clearly not going to complain now” he added, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties.

You bit your lower lip, when he dragged the fabric down your thighs with his teeth and your fingers tangled his soft hair “You lucky bastard…” was all that you said.

In fact, the way his tongue flicked your clitoris, with your legs draped over his shoulders, was enough to make you babble out incoherent words for the rest of the night.

Aizen Sosuke.

You had always had a weird way to get under his skin. From the moment he had met you, despite you being a mere human with some peculiar ability, he knew you were not as judgemental as the other members of your crew of human friends. You were a bit older, you were responsible, you had a brilliant mind and, obviously, he loved the way he could not manipulate you. He had the constant feeling he could never get to corrupt your soul, your vision of the world. You were too rational, even for someone like him. Deep down, though, he sensed you were not totally unaffected by his charisma.

Aizen Sosuke was not only a godly handsome man: he was charming, brilliant, and, much to your dismay, someone you had undeniably fallen in love with.

You had figured something dark lurked underneath his friendly façade almost immediately. Curiosity killed the cat and you had found yourself glued to his hip. Before you could venture further into his business, though, he had made sure you caught a glimpse of his dark side. He had clearly told you not to meddle in his private life, but you feared to lose him. You feared something would have happened sooner or later and therefore, not to watch your heart break, you had left the Soul Society without your friends or bothering to letting him know.

You had not heard from him for a whole week. You tried not to think about him, but his ghost was everywhere you went, in every activity you did. His name indulged on your tongue way too much for your own good, when you cursed yourself for having picked the worst Shinigami ever to have a crush on. His presence in your life had affected you so much, to the point that trying to go on and live your ordinary life as a human was impossible. It was like living in a perpetual agony.

That evening, you were coming back from the gym when you got caught in a pouring rain. Naturally, you had not brought an umbrella with you and, by the time you got back home, you were soaked. What a misfortune, a thing you were getting used to lately.

As soon as you unlocked the door of your flat and stepped inside, you took off your shoes and discarded you bag on the floor before ambling absent-mindedly to your bathroom and grabbing a few towels to dry yourself. You lived alone, you did not think that a certain someone was actually waiting for you in the shadows. Oh, Aizen was so upset with you. His eyes followed your every move attentively, pondering when it would have been the perfect moment to step out and make his presence known.

You were beautiful, so tempting, even for someone like him who believed to be a god. Maybe it was your innocence, the goodness in you, but he was still a man. He was drawn to your beauty like a moth to a flame.

As you took off your drenched t-shirt and bra, you proceeded to drag your leggings down your legs and shivered. A warm shower was highly needed and, as soon as you got rid of your panties too, you let out a sigh of relief and glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. You were tired, that was true, but the scream that left your lips though was not due to the dark circles around your eyes, giving you a jumpscare. It was due to the presence of the man standing right behind you.

His glasses, his brown locks and his handsome face were unmistakable. Aizen Sosuke. The Captain of the Fifth Division was right behind you with a smug smirk crossing his lips and an his eyes transfixed on your naked frame. He was not even trying to hide the wolfish grin on his lips.

You blushed from head to toe and tried to run into the cubicle of the shower, hoping that the thick, red courtain would have shielded your curves from him. You never stepped into the shower, though. Aizen had other plans in store for you and, in a swift motion, you found yourself pinned to nearest wall. His hand, firmly wrapped around the back of your neck, forced your cheek against the white tiled wall and his body was pressed up against your back.

“It’s good to see you again, darling” he hissed in your ear, his hot breath fanning the base of your neck and sending shivers down your spine.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you blurted out, trying to ignore the fact that, not only you were naked, but Sosuke did not even seem to be bothered by your nudity at all. The bastard had no shame.

He grinned “You know exactly why I’m here” he declared, taking his glasses off and settling them carelessly on the counter at his right.

You blushed and gritted your teeth, batting your eyes closed to steady your breath. You wanted to lash out at him, tell him how you hated the way he had pushed you away, throwing fact at his perfect face. He was the reason why you had left in the first place.

“Get out of my sight… You shouldn’t be here” you stated, although you quite did not want him to go. Not again. You did not want to spend any more time without him, no matter how irritated you were, how scared you were. You needed him. You needed to get upset every time he was overly kind with you and showed off those perfect deceitful smiles of his. The smirks you had fallen for…

“Tsk, tell me to leave and I may consider this option” he cooed, his grip on the back of your neck tightening as he pressed his clothed crotch against your ass.

You gasped, flushing up even more at his action. Was he excited? Did he really find you attractive? Was it another way to fool you?

“Aizen…” you whispered.

“Come on, say it. Tell me to leave, tell me to stop or tell me something else. Tell me what do you want me to do” he taunted you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he made it painly clear that leaving was not in his plans. Oh, he was far from wanting to leave. He had come here to confront you, to deliver his message for you personally. Eveything was clearly going according to his plan. He was so obsessed with perfectionism and you, of course, were exactly what he needed right now. You were part of his plan too, somehow.

You cursed yourself for enjoying this and, as you sighed and gave him the green card to proceed, you felt your inevitable fall approaching.

“Stay” you breathed out, earning an dark chuckle from the man behind you.

“That’s what I thought” he said, slithering his hand between your legs and plunging his fingers into your core without warning you. You moaned, a little startled by the sudden move, your inner walls gradually trying to adjust to the intrusion.

Sosuke bit your shoulder softly, as his fingers pumped into you deeply at a rough but steady pace. It was almost as if he wanted to punish you. He always had everything under control, it was almost frustrating. He enjoyed the way you moaned softly, under your breath, not to pamper him and make his chest swell up in pride.

However, as he pulled them out of you and you whined for the sudden sensation of emptiness, he hastily pulled his pants down and thrusted up into you. The sinful moan, strained in pain for his roughness, was enough to make him smirk in satisfaction.

“Don’t you fucking dare to leave like that ever again —he growled, thrusting into you at a feral pace — I’ll fuck an apology out of you”.

And he stack up to his vow.

Haschwalth Jugram.

You were not friends. You were far from that. You were enemies, actually. He had kidnapped you almost two months ago, making all of your friends worried sick about you. When you had asked him why he had done it, he dismissively replied that it was necessary, that he saw potential in you, that your friends would have fallen into his trap by coming to your rescue.

However, as weeks passed by, you noticed a change in his behavior. He was no more in his typical haste, he stayed a little longer to talk to you, he made sure you did not feel like a prisoner. You found out he was not a real monster. At least, not with you. Sometimes he was the one to deliver your meals to you. You never asked him why he did it. You accepted his kindness, despite the difficulty of keeping up a conversation with him for more than ten minutes. Haschwalth Jugram was so bashful. It irked you how he could have been the incarnation of the Prince Charming, if he was not a villain.

Now, you had to admit that, among other things, you had not failed to appreciate his appearence. The blue-eyed man was handsome as hell. Almost too perfect to walk this Earth, too deadly to be a human. Finding him attractive was wrong on so many levels, but you tried to hold on onto that trivial thought to take your mind off. You were still a prisoner, after all.

Now, he was a respectful man. You had noticed that he always came to check on you at the same hour. That night was not supposed to be an exception. You were laying on your back on the soft bed of your room, rosy cheeks and fuzzy mind. You were indulging on the thought of him again. It was an unhealthy obsession, a lustful and sinful thought you would have gladly got rid of, but in that very moment you could not.

You gave up. You slipped your shorts off, your panties following their same destiny on the floor along with your t-shirt. You laid down bare, your fingers travelling down your abdoment and finally reaching down to your aching core. A sigh of relief fell from your lips as you started to draw figures eights on your bundle of nerves. Oh, how badly you wished he was the one to do it. He had long fingers that you were more than sure would have fitted perfectly into you.

His name escaped your lips softly once, twice and thrice. It was hard not to, when your body was on fire. You desired him, you wanted to see his mask of pride slip as he took you on that bed.

You were so lost into the realm of pleasure that you did not even heard the door creak open and saw the tall figure looming in your room, until he spoke and your blood ran cold.

“Do you need something—…” the tall blonde said, only to feel his tongue freeze in his mouth at the sight before his icy-blue eyes.

You were staring up at him in pure shock, naked, with your legs wide open and your fingers buried deep into your core. He seemed to be composed, despite the awkward situation and it took you a few seconds to reach and slip under the covers to hide your nudity from his glacial eyes.

After enduring the most embarrassing staring contest of your life between you two, he cleared his throat and spoke again “I did not intend to disturb you. I was passing by your door and I heard my name. I apologize” he flatly declared. But you did not fail to catch the way his left hand twitched and the way his pants seemed to tighten slightly. Did he appreciate the view?

You blushed and nodded your head “Let’s pretend it never happened. — you breathed out, careful not to let the blankets fall — Do you need something? Can I help you in any way?” you added, avoiding to make eye-contact with him again.

The blonde man took a moment before answering, his cold eyes still lingering over your frame, studying the way the silky covers were draped over your body and exalting your curves. It was not good at all. He was losing his focus because of you. The worst part of it was that it was not exactly the first time, but it was surely a problem since it was happening before your eyes.

“No, I’m perfectly fine. — he replied shortly — I’ll take my leave”.

And with that, he left your bedroom, slamming the door behind him in frustration. However, he laid his back against it, running a gloved hand over his visage as he tried to compose himself. It was hard coming to terms with the fact that he liked you. Having seen you naked, however, had devasted him. He was hungry. He was so hungry he had to have you now, even for once. Even if he would have not got to touch you ever again.

“Bloody Hell…” he uttered under his breath, before opening the door again and dashing into your bedroom. He locked the door and walked up to you, stopping beside you and taking his coat off. His hands immediately reached down for his belt and he unbuckled his belt, his eyes clouded over in lust as he stared at you as if you were his property.

“Actually, there’s a thing you can do for me. Suck me off. Open that pretty mouth of yours that moaned my name so sweetly” he growled, unzipping his pants and pulling them down enough for you to slip his hard cock out of his boxers.

Your mouth watered and your cheeks flushed as you sat up hastily and flicked your gaze up to meet his “Is that a command?” you whispered teasingly, only to make him snort and grip your hair gently.

“Yes, it is. And make sure to swallow” he crooned, watching the way you smirked and wrapped your lips around him so diligently.

In the end, you had got what you wanted from the beginning. He lost his temper, you lost your dignity.

Tags: @stygianoir @idkyetwow @shattereddreamssara @yunixkill

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! It’s my first Bleach post and I hope you can appreciate it. Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated! I am sorry for the delay, but I am currently very busy!

X O X O

[smalltownstudying]

september 20th, 2024 — some more reading and @knave-11's "easiest 5 minute cake" recipe 🍰

she said:

4tbsp flour 2tbsp sugar(more if you want it sweeter cause this isn't too sweet) 2tbsp cocoa powder Mix those ingredients 3tbsp oil/melted butter 4tbsp milk, more if it's too thick 1/4tsp baking powder 1tsp vanilla essence Mix Put in the microwave for 3 minutes, check if it's done, if not, cook for one minute at a time until done Enjoy!

Made this for tea time today and I really liked it! I put in half of every ingredient because I wanted only one serving, and it still came out pretty good. I did however have to add a bit more milk because the batter was too thick, but she already said that was a possibility in the recipe so yeah, watch out for that if you want to make it.

I used to make a lot of mug cakes in my second year of college. My roommate from that time even told me recently that she remembers me being in the kitchen this one time and saying "oooh! mugcake!" with a voice like a child who just had the best idea ever (I don't really remember it but I do believe her since I used to bake a lot of easy stuff at that time as a pick me up). I took the liberty to add some cinnamon and powdered sugar on top to make it extra special as a little homage to sad little 19-year-old me. Kind of silly to be saying this sort of thing because of a mug cake, but if I love baking and cooking it's because of the role they play in people's lives and relationships.

P.S: As always, if anyone wants to send me another recipe, please do!

[moonydustx]

hey! how are you?

so, I've feeling kinda of pretty bad lately, and today I tried to bake a cake to my bf and his family and I half burned the cake and burned my hand on the process, so now I'm feeling like crap and my hand it's hurting like hell :')

could you please, if you want of course, write something similar to Sanji and fem reader? With a lot of comfort please? Your writting always comfort me, so thanks <3

hope you're good.

heey! First of all: I really hope you're feeling better! I think your request is so sweet, it's one of the things I can see Sanji doing. Despite all this womanizing side of him, I see him being a very sweet boyfriend.

I hope you like it and thank you very much for appreciating my work <3

--

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

The Cake

Sanji x F!Reader

warnings: just our dear F!Reader trying to cheer Sanji's spirits with food and having some incidents.

glossary: Ma belle - my beauty/my pretty, Mon coeur - my heart, amour - love (yes, I have him speaking French in this one because it's incredibly delicious to me)

Some days felt heavier than the next. Sometimes you just wanted to hide, or just avoid talking to anyone. This same maxim would apply to anyone, including Sanji.

You had noticed your boyfriend was feeling down the last few days, you just didn't know why. The times you asked, he would let the question fade away with some other compliment or conversation, avoiding the main topic.

Could something be wrong with you? No, impossible. Even discouraged, Sanji continued to treat you like the most precious thing his eyes could have seen. It should be something different. Maybe it wouldn't make him say what hurt him, but an idea that crossed your mind could help cheer him up.

The first step was to ensure that you were left to look after the ship while the others explored the island and he seemed to want to complicate that part.

"Ma belle, are you sure you don't want to go? I can stay." Sanji proposed and saw you vehemently deny it."

"Do not even think about it." you turned him around by the shoulders, guiding him to the outside of the Sunny. "You already have the shopping list and you're the cook."

"Okay." He found the behavior strange, but he didn't want to bother you with thoughts lost in his head. "I promise to come back soon!"

"Don't worry about that either." tiptoeing, you reached his cheek and placed a quick kiss. "Enjoy the day."

As soon as he left the ship, you started to put your plan into practice. Going through some books in the small library - which were mostly books for Robin and Chopper - you could find a copy of recipes. You knew some more basic cooking dishes, a cake was not included in it.

Remembering what you had seen Sanji do countless times for countless dishes, the first thing you did was separate ingredient by ingredient, quantity by quantity. Flour, eggs, baking powder, chocolate. It was impossible for a chocolate cake not to bring at least a little joy to him.

Dirtying a lot more dishes than you expected and spreading twice as much flour around the kitchen as you actually used in the recipe, you soon managed to put the dough on a small plate and then in the oven, crossing your fingers that it would work. The baking time passed quickly and you could see the cake rise through the glass.

"What are you doing?" Sanji's voice startled you, placing some bags on the table, he seemed genuinely curious. "It smells good."

"It's a little surprise for you, it's practically ready." you moved away from him, motioning for his arms to wrap around your waist.

"What did I do to deserve such a surprise?"

"Besides being a fantastic boyfriend, I've seen you a little sad." You said it clearly, you didn't provide reasons that prevent you from taking the information to him. "I'll understand if you don't want the cake or talk about it."

"Mon coeur, don't worry about me, really." the taste of cigarettes didn't bother you when his lips touched yours. "I swear this has nothing to do with you."

"Still, that doesn't stop me from wanting to see you happy, doesn't it?" he just agreed, you're letting go. "I'll go see our cake."

As soon as you were late opening the oven, the first thing that bothered you was the immediate hot breath in your face, but the cake looked beautiful. Under Sanji's watchful and caring gaze, you can feel the trust placed within you.

Confidence enough to simply forget about wearing any kind of gloves and place both hands straight onto the hot board. Your scream was the thing that brought Sanji back to reality.

"Shit!" you fell into a sitting position, the cake sliding down and stopping between your legs. "I can't believe I did that."

"Calm down, love." Sanji immediately - and wearing gloves - first took the cake and placed it on the top of the stove. Soon, he grabbed you under the arms and lifted you to your feet. His eyes met yours on the verge of tears. "Let me see."

"It hurts." Your voice came out much more sly than you expected, the burning sensation spread across both palms of your hand.

"I know babe, let me see, okay?" he asked gently, taking your wrists gently. "That was a bit ugly, we need to add water first."

With one hand gently holding both of your wrists and the other guiding you around your waist, Sanji took you to the edge of the sink, turning on the cold water.

"It's going to bother you a little." his warning wasn’t enough to prepare you for the sensation. Out of instinct, you tried to retract your arms, but his hand held yours firmly under the current of water. "I'm so sorry, just hold on for a little while, can you do this for me?"

"How could I be so stupid?" Taking advantage of the proximity, you let your body lean towards his chest. "I'm useless."

"Don't talk about yourself like that." some kisses were distributed on the top of your head and the hand that was on your waist, caressed one of your arms. "I think it's good."

He took your hands away from the water and could notice your palms were still red. Damn, that would bother you for a few days. Without much explanation, Sanji guided you to Sunny's infirmary and placed you sitting on the stretcher, while rummaging through some drawers.

"What are you looking for?" You asked, watching him. In fact, you just didn't want to have to look at your hands.

"Chopper once said he had separated an ointment…Here!" he lifted the small tube and walked towards you. "They're for burns. I'm going to pass them and then I need you to be a little more careful with your hands, what do you think mon coeur?"

With a murmur you nodded, watching him fill two fingers with the substance and lightly run them across the palm of your hand. Pausing every time he saw you squirm a little.

"You did very well." he warned as soon as he removed his fingers from your hand. "Now come here."

Intertwining part of your body with his again, Sanji guided you back to the kitchen and without any effort, placed you sitting on the counter. You watched him walk back and forth as he picked up plates, cutlery and cut the cake.

"I don't believe." you sighed in frustration, seeing that the cake had turned out much less soft than you expected. Instead of giving you a plate, Sanji placed a generous portion on a single plate. He took the first bite and prepared another. "It must be horrible."

"It's not horrible, amour, it's quite the opposite." he insisted and tasted the piece of cake once again. "Try it."

Opening your mouth and accepting the piece he offered you, you tasted the cake. It wasn't bad, actually. But it was far from what you had expected, especially visually.

"Cakes are complicated recipes and in addition to the ingredients, they also depend a lot on the temperature, how you open the oven and even the weather." a smile dared to cross your lips as you reveled in seeing Sanji explain with so much wisdom. "I bet you did everything right."

Another growl came from you, this time partly out of frustration and partly because you were eating yet another piece he was offering you.

"I really loved it." He placed a light kiss on your lips. "And well, about these last few days… Sometimes I miss Baratie, sometimes I think about how everything must be there."

"I can imagine." the saddened smile indicated that Sanji was still disturbed by such a feeling. "Sanji, you know we can write to them."

"I know, it's just a feeling that appears occasionally, but it soon passes." He tried to look excited and put the cake aside, fitting himself between your legs hanging on the counter. "Especially when I look at you, when I imagine everything we are and what we can be."

"I love you amour" You tried to bring your hand to his face, but the groan of pain came out automatically.

"And about that, young lady, can we make a deal?" he asked and you immediately agreed. "You will keep an eye on that hand and let me take care of and pamper you, no complaints."

"Sounds interesting to me."

"And once you get better, I can teach you a few things about cakes, what do you think?" your smile gave more than any other answer Sanji could have expected. "I love you and you will always be my favorite cook."