#bc it IS so nice to wander through them

[whoslaurapalmer]

hopefully you don’t still have a sinus headache!

recently, i’ve been thinking about baby bea getting to go to normal school and making non-vfd friends her own age, and violet, klaus and sunny having messy complicated feelings and fears about this but mostly being very happy for her.

yes!! thankfully i am now sinus headache FREEEEE

and!!!! AAAAAAAA YES..........

i think sunny and babybea both get to go to normal school and they have like, similar but, different struggles re: interacting with people at school. sunny purposely distances herself from her classmates for a long time bc she's Going Through It when she and her siblings come back from the island and before they find babybea, like there's a lot of mystery around this girl who just showed up and she heavily encourages the mystery bc she doesn't have the patience to deal with anybody while she's trying to fit back into the world, her life, trying to find her sister, trying to figure out what she remembers of the past and what she doesn't. (i am team 'sunny remembers the events of canon physically more than she actually truly remember-remembers them, but remembers the island the best.' do we have metaphorical teams for how much sunny remembers of canon?) i think she.......feels like she has to contend with the legacy of not only lemony's books but geraldine's punctilio articles, more than violet and klaus. ANYWAY. all this to say, in the nature of children, certain kids have a real laser focus on kids they think are Weird Or Different and sunny fits both of those things and she's definitely 1) been in a few fights bc she reacts physically 2) grabbed a kid's arm and bit him. it was not a pleasant parent-teacher conference for violet. by high school she's probably a little better. they have babybea back and have created the extended baudelaire family unit and i think she feels a little more secure in the world. as secure as a fourteen year old can feel...........................she gets encouraged to take the culinary elective in high school.

sunny, with deep-seated certainty, while using a ruler and an enormous knife to cut petit fours in the kitchen: can't teach me anything i don't know.

but she takes it anyway. she enjoys it greatly and does, in fact, learn new things. she makes some friends.

ANYWAY. YES. BABYBEA. she's spent so much time alone, and she's good at it. she enjoys it. but she really wants friends she just doesn't quite know how to do it. she's very close to her family, and she loves them more than anyone else, but she'd like to be close to other people her own age too, it's just not something that comes very naturally to her. but she LOVES school and she really likes being around people. her interests are just. not. necessarily. aligned. with her classmates. babybea herself has been in a vfd school, after all, along with all the Lemony Snicket Was Briefly Her Guardian While Helping Her Find Her Family And I Am Sure That Was A Real Time shenanigans. she does find it easier to talk to the adults (plus sunny) in her life and it's hard for her. clearly they encourage it bc As Adults they are aware, theoretically, It Is Good For A Child To Have A Super Normal Upbringing That DOESN'T Involve, Say, Scaling A Mountain For Reasons (even though literally every single one of them has scaled a fucking mountain. babybea included.), but yeah, there ARE complicated messy feelings!!!! violet and klaus didn't really get to finish their education the way they should've. lemony and the sbg were entrenched in vfd. sunny is, see previous paragraphs. i guess it's a lot of heightened parenting emotions. is your child safe at school vs is the small child you have guardianship over safe at school and TOTALLY not going to be, say, kidnapped by the ankle one random day. are the people your children knows people they're going to be safe with? normal parenting fears vs a vfd fear. sigh. and it's not like violet and klaus easily get along with the parents of babybea's classmates bc they aren't her parents. they're siblings and they're babybea's Family. there's things they can talk about but there's still a real disconnect, you know?

meanwhile babybea is just going 'have you seen [black and white movie of your choice]??' and her classmates are going '............no??' sigh, again.

but i think she wants to join band!!!!!!! oh.....babybea as a little band kid.................so i think she learns the accordion from lemony, and either the school system she's in is That Weird (as some are) that they need an accordion or, she plays the clarinet. god she's probably drum major in high school i'm sobbing. that's precious. also babybea is like permanently 10-13ish in my head bc otherwise i get upset about the passage of time bc she's BABY goddammit so it hurts to think about her as any older than that but let's think of her as drum major in the far, far distant future.

anyway anyway band is great for her!! a lot of the other kids in her year look up to her bc she develops a wide music (and music theory) knowledge and they go to her for help a lot and she's so thrilled and so pleased and that's how she really starts interacting with other kids. eventually they talk about more than just music, but one must start somewhere. the first time she goes over a friend's house is Harrowing for the adults, but they survive. but babybea's friends LOVE going to her house bc the baudelaire household feels very comforting and homey. nothing beats a friend's homey house and violet and klaus' spirited (if minorly overbearing bc they love babybea) hospitality. they also think sunny is super cool. (everybody has a crush on sunny. she almost gets concerned about it, but she is the coolest.)

babybea's friends: your sister is THE COOLEST babybea: she's not my sister, she's my family? babybea's friends: so, like, your sister babybea: no! just. family. babybea's friends: then who's that guy lemony: ? babybea: that's my uncle. babybea's friends: so why is sunny not your sister? babybea: because!

oh! so babybea starts a book club. her friends suggest it bc the baudelaire family library is so big and has so many books and so many fun places to read, that she and her friends have a lot of fun hanging out and reading books. lemony takes the news with deep horror and trepidation. but it all works out okay. the worst the book club gets is like, a bunch of kids arguing about who gets to be which character in each book they get obsessed with. which can be vicious enough, you know. sometimes babybea gets them to sit down and watch an old movie. occasionally, in the spirit of all good book clubs, they get pizza.

[airbenderedacted]

So who’s your favorite character in Wander Over Yonder? And what’s your fav ship(s)?

Oh, I love playing this guessing game!! ♡ ～('▽^人) ✨

Favorite character? Well...

[🎨📺]

As for ships, I wouldn't exactlyy say I ship anything in this show tbch, but I'd say I'm especially fond of Sylava, in a strictly fanon kinda way.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

SOMETIMES I LONG TO EAT YOU UP ; RYŌMEN SUKUNA

synopsis; sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you. he cooks for you, instead.

word count; 6.0k

contents; ryōmen sukuna/reader, gn!reader, househusband!sukuna, no curses au, fluff fluff fluff!!, sukuna is Whipped bc i say so, (he bullies you a bit but he does so lovingly), lots of cooking and descriptions of food, implied reincarnation au if you reeaalllyyyyy squint (but feel free to ignore it if that’s not your thing!!), reader is a silly goose, sukuna vs human emotion (he loses), he’s ooc but he’s Free

a/n; >:3 is anyone shocked….. that’s right. ari is in fact capable of writing for characters who aren’t stsg….. this one has been in my wips for Many Months now but i finally finished it!! i just think being in a nice warm kitchen could fix him. (super cute dividers by @/enchanthings !!)

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you.

throughout the years you've been together, it's something you've grown used to. words like love must feel foreign in his mouth — even more so when they slip into the air, voiced, manifested. 

discomforting, if the crease between his brows is anything to go by.

he only says it under certain conditions, little moments here and there, all of them memorable; a particularly sentimental midnight drive, that time you broke down sobbing into his chest after a rough day, the night he proposed. and so on. little moments, precious moments, few and far between.

that’s just how sukuna is. unaccustomed to being loved, even more unaccustomed to being in love. swallowing the words down, afraid of what could happen if he spoke them aloud, through more than a mere whisper. as if they could burn you.

you don’t mind, because you know him. and you know that he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it nearly as often as you do. 

sukuna shows his love for you in other ways. driving you wherever you need to be, holding you to his chest when you’re sleepy, watching reality shows with you even though he hates them; always watching over you, making sure you’re safe and happy, almost hunting for anything that could disturb your peace. you can feel that love, almost reach out and touch it — a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through large crowds, a bouquet of camellias waiting for you on the kitchen table as soon as you get home. it’s there. concrete.

but, above all else… sukuna translates his boundless love into food. 

the sun rises outside the walls of your apartment, slow and steady, hazy sunlight flitting through the windows of your kitchen and dyeing the open space in a golden glow — like something out of a summery daydream. you rub the tender skin beneath your bleary eyes, as your feet move you forward. slowly, groggily.

stumbling towards your target.

sukuna doesn’t flinch when you wrap your arms around his waist, forehead bumping into his broad back, practically tackling him into a hug. he’s become attuned to the sound of your clumsy footsteps. he makes a tiny noise, acknowledging your presence, and that’s all. 

the low purr of the espresso machine buzzes in the air, as he watches over the process, dutiful as ever. the same drawn out, thoughtful process he goes through every morning; picking out the beans himself, grinding them into grounds, and making a cup for you with his beloved, expensive coffee machine. making sure every setting is exactly as it should be. it gives him peace of mind.

and it needs to be perfect, in every possible way — so sukuna tries his best not to let you distract him.

(he never quite succeeds.) 

a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you squeeze his waist. hands wandering, feeling him up, buzzing with the warmth the contact gives you. he’s always so cozy, like this. all you want is to smush your face into his plush chest. but sukuna clicks his tongue, and places a palm on your forearm. keeping it still.

his voice comes out raspy, excruciatingly deep. a gruff kind of tilt to it that makes you shiver.

”assaulting me first thing in the morning, are we?”

you’re a little too sleepy to respond, too out of it. still reeling with the hazy remnants of your deep sleep, stretching your limbs out groggily and making a little mrm sound that makes his lips twitch up. unwillingly, might he add.

the two of you do this every morning. it’s a ritual, of sorts, one that you need to function properly — he always makes you a morning cup of coffee, and you always cling to him through the process. he always huffs and puffs and clicks his tongue, but never actually pushes you off. all sukuna does is absently caress your arm, where it rests around his midsection, still watching over the slow brew of the coffee. attentive.

you try not to disturb him too much, you do. because you know he loves this, deep down; the morning sunlight kissing up his nape, the sense of peace sinking into his bones. the feeling of your chest against his back, your fingers fiddling with the strings of his apron. but eventually, you always give in to the temptation of speaking — of coaxing a response from that deep, raspy morning voice.

so you part your lips.

”did you have nice dreams?” is murmured into his back, your cheek smooshed against the soft, dark fabric of his tight turtleneck.

sukuna hums. listening, always, even when he pretends to tune you out. then comes his response.

”i never dream.”

a moment passes.

you bite down on your lip, struggling to withhold a giggle. it doesn’t really work — but you tactfully pretend not to hear his displeased grumble.

”right,” you smile. ”my bad.”

another soft silence washes over you. just for a couple of moments, as you drowsily blink, and sukuna puts two ceramic cups on the counter. blissful, until you break it again.

”i think i dreamt of you.”

sukuna stills. only barely, just for a second, a brief twitch of his fingers; waiting. for tiny crumbs of love, ones you give out like candy, almost absentminded. like you don’t even have to try. ones he never fails to pick up, tuck into his pockets, chew between his teeth.

(sometimes, he envies how freely affection seems to spill from your lips.)

it’s touching, in a way. the idea that he never quite leaves your mind. that he’s there, always, even in your dreams. it’s… sweet. he supposes.

a little yawn leaves your lips, as you stretch your limbs out, akin to a sleepy cat — and he strains his ears to hear what you’ll say next.

”you were a cashier at the mcdonalds i went to.”

…

a click of his tongue — his hand slipping from its position on your forearm. ”get out of my kitchen.”

and just like that, a burst of giggles bubble up inside your throat. muffled into the cotton of his sweater, a sound that makes his heart feel a little too big for his body. ”noooo…” you whine, nails digging into the fabric so he can’t shake you off. clinging to him tighter when he tries, no real intent behind it. ”’m sorry. don’t get mad!”

”i would never work there,” he scoffs. ”frankly, the thought is insulting.”

you quirk a brow. ”what kind of beef do you have with mcdonalds?” 

”don't ask me stupid questions,” he huffs, clicking his tongue, a bitter lilt to his voice. ”they don’t make food. it’s practically contaminated — poisonous. i don’t want you eating that plastic.”

(why would you want to, when you have me to make you anything you want?)

you bite down on your lip, trying to hide a teasing smile. endeared, by how grumpy he’s getting. ”aw. i like it, though...”

sukuna sighs.

”alright, then.” his voice is controlled, hiding every single tinge of his carefully concealed frustration. he must have been an actor in a past life, to sound so effortlessly unbothered. ”go buy yourself one of those cheap, awful, bland cappuccinos you love so much. i’ll pay.”

your lips twitch upward. he’s just being snarky, you know he is, but you still bundle up his sweater with your fists. shaking your head. ”i’m just kidding,” you purr, biting back another yawn. ”only want yours.”

sukuna stills. silent, once more. trying not to acknowledge how your words tug at his heartstrings, chew at the bones of his ribcage. something like pride sprouts in his chest, and it’s enough to get him to smooth his thumb over your knuckle again. content. finally, the kitchen falls silent, only the low purring of the coffee machine to fill your ears — until that dwindles out too.

a kind of peace settles in the air. something holy, sukuna thinks. 

something that makes him feel human.

he moves his hands delicately, tenderly. attentive, as he pours hot espresso into your cup, slowly and gracefully, a delicate rhythm to his steady hands. just thinking of how warm you feel, like this, how you touch him like he’s harmless, like he could do no wrong in your eyes. how your voice sounds so pretty in the wake of a new morning, when it’s just a little raspy, unguarded in a way that makes him feel like he’s cradling a wounded bird in his arms. something fragile and majestic. he pretends not to like the sound of it, the way it distracts him from his extensive brewing process; but sukuna thinks he’d do just about anything to hear it once more.

absolutely anything.

”what are you thinking about, sukuna?”

”nothing,” he’s quick to hum. maybe a little too quick, but before you can question it, he scoffs. ”are you gonna cling to me all day, you little brat?”

”… can i?” 

sukuna clicks his tongue.

(he’s awfully lucky you don’t look up to see the cherry red tint of his pierced ears.)

three little words begin to crawl up his throat. he can feel them, ticklish, heavy, and gulps them down before they get too far. busying himself with the clinking of coffee cups and stirring of silver spoons. then he’s turning around, to face you properly. blowing on the cup, a fragrance of espresso spreading throughout the kitchen, blending with the blooming flowers by the windowsill.

he hands you a cup of coffee, made just the way you like it. glancing at your forehead; wondering if he should pair it with a kiss.

(maybe later.)

”careful. it’s hot,” he hums. then he’s turning around to prepare his own cup, while you murmur your thanks, squeezing affectionately at his waist. taking a sip of the bitter brew. a warm cup of coffee, thoughtfully crafted, only to be passed into your awaiting hands. the same transaction you repeat every single morning.

the same act, conveying the same sentiment; those three little unspoken words. 

you take another sip, and a smile blooms on your lips. 

your stomach is growling.

it’s been ten minutes since it started. ten minutes since you noticed the pit of hunger in your gut, growing more and more for every passing second; and you’re trying to ignore it, valiantly, sitting in your cubicle and mentally cursing yourself for being so scatterbrained.

how on earth could you forget your own lunch?

a pang of ache bubbles up in your stomach, and you curl into yourself. sitting on a not-so-comfy chair, doing your best to survive, staring at the clock on the wall and watching the minutes tick down. only twenty minutes left of your lunch break.

in hindsight, it was inevitable. inevitable that you’d burn yourself out, eventually, that it’d make you lose sleep, that your fatigued brain would forget something so important. so fundamental to your peace of mind. you need your lunch to focus properly — there’s no way in hell that you’ll make it through the work day otherwise.

you could accept your fate and go buy a sandwich and a can of coffee, but…

(dammit.)

sukuna always makes your lunches himself. tailored to suit your tastes, to give you the nutrients and energy you need not to lose your mind or set the building on fire, with all the hours you spend staring into your computer screen and writing until your brain turns to mush. they’re always delicious, always lovingly made, and you think you might break down and cry if you have to settle for a cheap sandwich instead. you’d rather swallow crushed glass.

a sigh slips from your lips.

your coworker shoots you a sympathetic glance, hearing yet another of your stomach’s agonized growls. she taps at your desk, to get your attention, and you look up to meet her kind eyes. ”my offer still stands, you know?”

you give her a smile. ”no, it’s fine,” you murmur, rubbing the back of your neck. ”eating someone else’s handmade food just wouldn’t feel right…”

”… he spoils you, huh?”

a huff. you pout a little, and she chuckles, going back to eating from her bento. it’s hard not to feel jealous. it’s even harder not to think of the bento still waiting for you in your fridge.

finally, you resign yourself to your tragic fate. putting both palms on your desk, ready to lift yourself up; doomed to survive on a cheaply made sandwich and a too-sweet can of coffee. it’s not ideal, not at all. but it is what it is.

(if only you hadn’t forgotten it…)

”you’re a klutz.”

something is placed directly in front of you. two boxes, stacked on top of each other, wrapped up in a pink cloth — neatly tied, smelling just slightly of food. tantalizing.

you raise your head.

sukuna has one eyebrow raised, a mild expression of disbelief painted on his face. unimpressed, as he gazes down at you, hair tousled and slicked back. wearing a leather jacket, black like the tattoos etched into his skin, on his face, a larger one running in streams of ink from his shoulder down to his forearm. you can see a tiny bit of it, crawling towards his collarbone. equally tantalizing.

a click of his tongue breaks you out of your stupor — stuck in place, staring at him silently. like he just fell out of the sky. 

”sukuna,” you sputter, finally, glancing down at the bento and then back up at him. ”you —”

”you’re lucky i noticed,” he cuts you off. ”almost didn't make it in time.” one glance at the clock on the wall, and he’s placing a can of peach tea on your desk; it’s still covered in condensation, his fingers leaving prints on the aluminium. ”i should go. doubt your bosses will be very thrilled to have a motorcycle parked outside.”

”ah.” you fall silent. looking down at your lap, wearing a weak smile, a little too ashamed for his liking. ”… sorry, ’kuna. i know you’re busy.”

he gazes down at you, slumped in your chair, bags beneath your weary eyes. an apologetic smile on your lips, a little dejected. like you’re being scolded.

(his eyes soften.)

sukuna shakes his head. only slightly, by a hair, but enough to put you at ease — to let you know he isn’t upset, that grumpy is simply his default state. his voice shifts into a lower, softer tone. ”just don’t forget it next time.” 

then he flicks your forehead. gently, not enough force behind it to even sting.

”klutz,” he says, again, and you know it’s a term of endearment. a smile sprouts on your lips.

you sit up straight, eyes crinkling as you look at him, before falling down on the bento in front of you — practically drooling as you think about the meal you’re about to have. ”thank you,” you coo, a sweet grin on your lips as you meet his gaze. voice tingling with barely contained fondness, expression and posture brightening as you tap your feet beneath your desk. ”i love you.”

something smooths over sukuna’s face; something you can’t quite put your finger on. his lips are pursed, and his amber eyes simmer with something awfully fond. swirling like the spots of sunlight on the wall just behind him. it’s brief, easy to miss — a single tug of his lips. the tiniest little smile.

his hand reaches out, fingertips ghosting over your skin as he brushes through your bangs; adjusting them. and you know it’s just an excuse to touch you, that he’d let himself be greedy and ruffle your hair if you weren’t in public. he doesn’t like having an audience, small as it may be. but he can’t really control himself, when it comes to you.

”make sure to eat all of it,” he hums, glancing out the window, towards the motorcycle parked outside. ”i’ll come pick you up later.”

you smile, and sukuna leaves. elegant, even in the way he moves, collected and confident. languid, long legs and a broad back. the warmth of his palm on your head remains, as you wave after him with a cheery see you soon!

and it’s finally time.

with an eager kind of giddiness, you unwrap your bento — ignoring your still growling stomach, the jealous mutters of your coworker, the ticking of the clock on the wall. from outside the window comes a ray of sunshine, a streak of gold falling across the floorboards. it illuminates the contents of your lunch, and you swallow down a gulp. the presentation is lovely, as always. the top layer carries a mouth-watering cutlet, a wide array of little vegetables, fresh and clean, while the bottom one has a couple perfectly formed onigiri; they’re awfully cute, shaped into little pandas, decorated with dried seaweed and sesame seeds.

you pick one up, holding it in the light of the glittering sun. it’s so cute you almost don’t want to eat it at all.

”did he really make that..?” your coworker mumbles, still chewing on her own food. you’re too hungry to respond.

you fish out a tiny note, tucked between the boxes. that’s where he usually puts them. you don’t remember when it started, but you know he enjoys it; writing down little reminders or words of encouragement. his handwriting is beautiful, clear and concise. your eyes trail over every little word, every letter, the little smudged scribble in the middle. it makes you smile.

you’ve been working hard lately. don’t overdo it. the company won’t fall apart if you slack off every once in a while. i lo we can watch that show you like when you get home.

a warmth spreads throughout your body, from the pit of your stomach down to the tips of your fingers; your heart constricting to make room for the love that blooms between your ribs. you barely even notice the wide smile on your lips, leaning forward to leave a little kiss on the paper. it’ll have to do, since he isn’t here to receive it himself.

and as you dig in, savouring every piece of food he made, you’re almost certain you can feel it. that burst of emotion he always tries to contain, the three little words that always sputter out on the tip of his tongue. the cutlet is perfectly crispy, juicy on the inside, practically melting on your tongue. seasoned thoroughly, cooked to completion, so tasty it makes your mouth water. the onigiri are stuffed with a wide array of fillings, fluffy rice blending nicely together with the contents, little grains sticking to the corners of your mouth. and the veggies are cut into cute little star shapes, light and refreshing, balancing the meal and making you wolf everything down with a bright smile. 

there’s love, in this. in every meal he makes for you. there’s love in the way he’s picked out your favorite ingredients, all the seasonings you like, love in the way he’s put so much effort into the presentation alone. love, love, love. you can practically taste it on your tongue. the peach tea tastes sweet and fruity, and you gulp it down eagerly, bento left empty.

there are only five minutes left until you have to start working again, but you feel nowhere near as spent as before. you think of his hands, his eyes.

his love.

(god, you can’t wait to get home.)

a soft, orange glow simmers in the kitchen — an atmosphere too sweet not to savour.

your dining room table is covered in a white cloth, burdened by the weight of one burning candle and an expensive vase; stuffed with camellias in all hues, jasmine buds and pretty bluebells, floral scents mingling with the cinnamon-like one of the scented candle. every inhale fills your senses with pure bliss. 

not to mention the food. 

you’re drooling. you’re sure of it. eyes darting from plate to plate, dish to dish, overwhelmed by the delicacies; trays of sushi, perfect cuts of salmon and tuna cushioned by soft rice, maki rolls stuffed with all your favorite toppings, plenty of soy sauce in tiny cups. fried shrimp, a golden colour, fluffy and crispy, and miso soup topped with garlic and cubes of tofu, steam rising from the ceramic bowls.

and then, of course, his infamous dumplings, grilled on both sides — a perfect golden brown. 

all your favorites.

sukuna takes hold of a teapot. made of glass, stuffed with a blooming chrysanthemum, petals stretching out like rays of sunlight in the golden water. he pours it into two ceramic cups, and then promptly drags a chair out for you; a silent beckoning.

but all you can do is stare. 

”sukuna…”

he quirks a brow, meeting your astonished stare, eyes round and confused like a puppy’s; painfully cute. he could eat you up. ”what?”

you open your mouth, then close it again. silent, furrowing your brows as if in deep contemplation. ”our anniversary is in august, right?” something panicked smooths over your face. ”i didn’t forget?”

a sigh spills from his lips. ”don’t be dumb,” he clicks his tongue, glancing away for no more than a moment. ”we haven’t had much time to eat together, lately. that’s all.” 

(he missed you. he wanted to spoil you, a bit.

he could say it out loud; but he chooses not to.)

either way, he knows you get the message. because suddenly your eyes glimmer, and a full smile blooms on your pretty lips. you waste no time in plopping down on the seat in front of you, right across from sukuna. ”hehe. thank you, baby.”

he huffs. tiny, more of a shy little breath. ”alright, already. eat. before it gets cold.”

”okay, okay!” 

he watches as you grab your chopsticks, hungrily eyeing all the dishes on display. listening to his own heartbeat; thrumming, softly, just behind his ribs. pulsating like a fish gasping for air.

”gosh. when did you even do all this?” you ask, soaking in the intimate atmosphere, as he runs an absent hand through his hair. still smelling lightly of coconut oil from the shower he barely had time to take — but he’d rather die than soil this moment with the smell of his cooking-induced sweat.

”when you were away.” he reaches for the cup in front of him, tracing the tips of his fingers against the ceramic. ”jin helped. not with the cooking, obviously, thank god. but…” he raises it to his lips, before taking a sip. ”the ambience. i suppose.”

a hum. you raise your hand, reaching for the bouquet of flowers. ”did he bring these, too?” a curt nod is all you get; it’s enough to have your lips raising up into a smile, fingertips brushing against the petals, pink and yellow, cupping the flowers like they’re made of glass. ”no wonder. do you know what bluebells symbolize?”

sukuna stills. he meets your gaze, eyes trailing towards your knuckles, your fingers, how they blend together with the petals. how he could almost mistake them for stalks. he leans back in his chair, and mutters under his breath;

”… why else would i ask him to buy them?”

you blink. not in surprise, but realization. the sweet kind, like a splash of citrus blooming on your tongue, refreshing.

(he’s always been a bit of a sap, hasn’t he.)

”… that’s true,” your lips split into a sheepish smile, hoping he won’t feel the heat of your cheeks from this distance. ”they’re pretty. thank you.”

another little furrow of his brows. ”enough of that,” comes a sigh. ”if you really want to thank me, make sure the food doesn’t go to waste.”

you stifle a giggle, reaching for the bowl of miso soup. following his advice. sukuna watches you dig in with a certain look in his eyes, something alert and attentive, soft in the corners. resting his chin on the heel of his palm, waiting patiently for those little blissful sighs to start spilling from your lips. wallowing in the finely crafted atmosphere, pleasant scents and soft lighting, the air brimming with something tender and raw.

he spent all day preparing this. planning out every single meal, waiting for jin to arrive with the scented candles and flowers, cleaning the kitchen until not a single speck of dust remained. cathartic, to immerse himself into cooking for you, cutting tofu and vegetables into little cubes and slices, fiddling with the temperature settings and watching blue flames lick at the stove like hungry snakes. gutting the fish he bought fresh from the market, dipping large shrimps into boiling oil. there’s something powerful about it, something he can’t quite put his finger on. something that makes him feel at ease.

and it’s tender — the act of creation, of feeding someone you care for. he didn’t appreciate that part of the process until you came into his life. he didn’t truly love cooking, either.

(he doubts he’ll ever tell you, but he won’t ever stop being grateful for that.)

you continue to eat, sipping from the soup, dipping sushi into soy sauce, munching at the tempura, humming happily to yourself. you look so pleased, so content, like the cat that got the cream. sukuna watches. his eyes stay glued to your fingers, the way you hold your chopsticks, the grain of rice that sticks to the corner of your lip after a particularly big bite. his ears stay keen, intent on picking up on every little joyous hum behind your teeth. even while eating, he’s feeding off your reactions; every expression you bless him with.

he fell in love with the way you eat many years ago.

”so good,” you moan, closing your eyes in pure bliss, and he has to take a sip of his tea to cover the smug smile on his face.

”make sure to finish what’s on your plate,” is all he says, but the honeyed note in his voice gives his satisfaction away. awfully pleased by your approval. ”i made dessert, too.”

at that, your eyes light up even further, swirling with something excited and sweet, and he fails to hold back an amused little huff.

the evening continues. you eat your fill, warm soup and fried food and sugary ice cream, and promptly fall asleep on the couch in the middle of a romcom he only watches for your commentary. snoozing on his shoulder, all tuckered out. always so sleepy after eating. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers gliding across your soft skin. he spares a moment to admire you, under the soft glow of the living room lights — unable to shake away that greedy vein beneath his skin. if it was possible, he’d admire you forever.

but there’s no way you’d ever manage to sit still for so long, so he carries you to bed instead. big, strong, tattooed arms, lifting you up with ease, like a baby bird in the maw of a rottweiler. handling you with the utmost care, tucking you in under the covers, leaning forward to press a single kiss between your brows —

and then you smile.

…

sukuna stills. he watches you, watches you, watches you, every single miniscule motion of your stiff facial features. 

then he pinches your cheek.

”owww!”

your eyes flutter open, flashing with betrayal, and sukuna only gives you that signature click of his tongue. ”did you really think you could trick me so easily?”

”i did! you carried me here!” your lips fall into a petulant frown, as you scramble to sit up straight against the fluffy pillows. he only rolls his eyes.

”i wanted to appease you,” he says, and you almost fall for it because it’s not quite a lie. ”such a brat. can’t even walk on your own, huh?”

”well, pardon me for wanting my sweet fiancé to hold me.”

”i hold you all the time.”

”it’s not the same,” you sigh, two little shakes of your head. ”whatever. you wouldn't get it.”

sukuna quirks a brow, but doesn’t push it. instead, he releases the slightest exhale, eyes blooming with amusement, his palm finding its way to your tousled hair. smoothing down your skull.

”go back to sleep,” he beckons, softly, almost hypnotically. his voice is at its most tender when it’s late at night; a little too exhausted to sharpen his syllables properly. ”i’ll hold you later.”

”… you’re not joining me?” you ask, eyes filling with confusion, and he feels a slight tug at his heart — a little string that ties him to you. 

”i need to plan next week’s meals,” he mutters, watching as you furrow your brows, meeting his gaze with a pair of disappointed puppy dog eyes. 

you know he’s weak to them.

”don’t pout,” he scoffs, looking away for the briefest little moment. weak. ”i'll do it quickly.”

”you always say that,” comes a heavy sigh. you bundle up the covers with your fists, shooting him a bitter little glance. ”but it always takes forever.”

”don’t complain,” he tuts. tilting his head, pink locks falling across his forehead, his maroon eyes. ”haven’t i pampered you enough tonight?”

at that, you fall silent. still pouting.

he tries not to feel bad. he wants to sleep with you; but he can’t. sunday nights are for meal planning. they have been since you first moved in together, and he’s not planning to put a fork in the road of his carefully nurtured routine anytime soon. he needs to make sure you eat balanced meals, get all the vitamins you need — it’s practically life and death.

still, it itches at him. the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, curl in on yourself. you look sleepy and disappointed, and the bed looks empty, which only makes you look smaller in comparison. you look small and lonely and sad. it makes him wish he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole; keep you tucked between his ribs, where you'll be warm and safe.

(he brushes the thought away.)

for a moment, he’s entirely still. then his pinkie twitches, beckoning him to you. there it goes, again — that invisible string. he takes a step forward, crouching down to meet you at eye level. 

”… sorry,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. the word feels foreign on his tongue, but he swallows the discomfort. ”i’ll hurry. you have my word.”

you blink.

then you’re smiling, again. flipping to your side, sluggishly, just to face him fully. ”’kay.” you reach out for his hand. ”don’t complain if i’m knocked out when you get back, though.”

he looks at your intertwined fingers, brushing his thumb across your skin, a hum buzzing in his throat. affectionate, despite his teasing. ”i wont have to listen to your nightly tangents, then.”

”you love my nightly tangents!”

a snort pushes past his lips. ”sure,” he smirks, ever so slightly, snarky enough to make it sound like a lie. because he does love them. he loves hearing your voice turn delirious, all sleepy and dreamy with fatigue, loves your stupid questions and even stupider answers. he loves being kept awake on nights when he feels too stiff to sleep, when he knows he’s going to have that dream again; a dream of crumbling buildings and burning flesh, of moonlight on asphalt and blood underneath a young boy’s fingernails. a dream where he looks at you and feels nothing but apathy.

(far more grueling than any of the bloodshed.)

sukuna does love your nightly tangents. they chase those ghosts away, ground him back to a sweetened life, one that smells of cinnamon and sunlight and ripe fruit. but you don’t need to know that. so he doesn’t say it — he keeps it locked behind his teeth, under his tongue. 

he squeezes your palm. 

and then he’s rising to his feet. you follow him with your eyes, blinking drowsily, cheek smooshed against the soft mattress. he resists an uncharacteristic coo.

you muster up a sweetened grin, teeth shining like stars. ”g’night, honey. don’t stay up too late, okay?”

he hums. a silent i won’t. there are some things he won’t speak aloud, because he knows you’ll hear them anyway. ”pleasant sleep,” he murmurs, raising a hand up to card through his hair. blinking away the fatigue — until a soft bout of laughter spills from out your throat.

”pleasant sleep?” you echo, grin teetering on something mischievous, a sleepy snort pushing past your lips. ”what are you, a fucking vampire?”

sukuna blinks.

then he’s clicking his tongue, that familiar sound, and pushing your face into the fluffy pillow on your bed — muffling your little giggles. gentle, his large palm on the back of your head. affectionate. ”behave,” he tuts, but he’s grinning. your giggles don’t fade away, even when he’s turning on his heel and walking out of your bedroom. 

”sweet dreams, count dracula!” 

”you’re not getting any breakfast tomorrow.”

ignoring your muffled, distressed whine, sukuna hides a fond smile behind his palm. biting down on his bottom lip to keep it at bay — absently deciding what to make for your breakfast tomorrow. pancakes or waffles? maybe he’ll skip the vanilla ice cream, this time. just to teach you a lesson.

when he returns, forty minutes later, you’re fast asleep. curled up under the covers, drool slipping down your bottom lip. he tucks you into his neck, and mouths them into your ear — three little words, always those same little words, never quite spoken in more than a whisper, as if he fears his voice would break under their pressure. but his breath fans against the shell of your ear, and you absently nuzzle into your arms. as if you understand. that silent language between you.

he wonders if you realize, if you’ll ever realize, just how much you mean to him.

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you, but you know. you know, because it’s in everything he does.

you know that he loves you because he actually allows you into his kitchen, when anyone else would be chased out with a pitchfork. because he doesn’t push you away when you wrap your arms around his waist, over his cream-coloured apron, even though you know it distracts him while he’s cooking dinner — only ever clicking his tongue or making a noise of disapproval, placing a palm over your forearm. muttering little harmless grumbles of it’s like you want to get first degree oil burns.

you know that he loves you because you’re always the first to taste his food, without fail, the first person he goes to when he tries a new recipe. and you appreciate it, even when you joke about how honoured you are to test your king’s meals for poison. he quirks a brow and threatens to take the food away, sure, but then there’s always that one flicker of amusement in the amber of his eyes. 

you know because he grills his dumplings extra on both sides, just how you like it, because he forms his onigiri into pandas just to see you smile. because he knows how to make your perfect cup of coffee by heart, and refuses to use anything less than an absurdly expensive coffee machine, beans he grinded into powder with his own two hands. because he believes you deserve nothing but the best, nothing less than the finest delicacies this world has to offer. wholeheartedly.

you know that he loves you because it’s there. you can feel it, in every stolen glance, every slight smile when you finally dig in. in the way the cutlet melts on your tongue, the way the bitter espresso runs down your throat, the warmth that blossoms in your chest when you catch him watching you with the faintest glimmer of a content smile. 

a silent declaration, a hymn you can always hear if you strain your ears enough —

i love you, i love you, i love you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

HEYYYY

Soo I'm here to rq another Damian x reader(platonic). But real quick, I'm sorry if I'm requesting too much or being a nuisance. Pls lmk if I am so I can stop! It's just hard to find somebody that writes for him like dis.

Anyways, basically the same thing were theyre friends but this time it's a diff scenario. So Damian n reader are obvi friends but theyre also complete oposites. Like Damian is intelegent, focused and meanwhile has reader is a bit dumber, daydreams too much, and kinder. They also get walked over a lot.

So he invites reader over to the manor and she meets his brothers n dad. It's all fine n dandy but they can't help but notice how diff they are.

Bonus points if reader talks positively abt him to his brothers and they're all like "fym he's nice?" And readers all like "fym he isnt?" (They're just not used to being treated like a normal human being) ‼️

Honestly I love writing for platonic! Damian. So pls don’t apologise for anything bc I’m having so much fun rn. 🦦plus I don’t know if this will read well as I’ve written this late at night when o should probably be in bed.

‘Am I seeing things or has Damian finally made a friend.’ Dick whispered to Jason, his eyes unable to tear his eyes away from you and Damian followed Bruce through the manor.

‘Nope, I’m definitely seeing it too.’ Jason replied also looking at you and Damian as if he was looking at the human personifications of night and day.

‘The fact that the demon spawn managed to get a friend sure is…something.’ Tim piped up, having overheard his brothers conversation from standing in between them. ‘I can only hope he didn’t kidnap the poor soul.’ Dick added as he was quick to click onto how Damian kept a hand on your arm, tugging and pulling you along when you stop to stare at a painting in awe for a little too long, gently encouraging you to keep up with him and Bruce by promising to go back to the painting later. Jason then looked over at Tim, ‘any ideas on who they are?’ Tim shrugged. ‘Only the fact that they go to the same school as Damian, share the same art classes and is known for being a little bit of a daydreaming pushover, but despite all that they’re still a kind person.’

Dick smiled sympathetically as his heart ached for you. It wasn’t easy being nice in a city like Gotham, if anything nice ever wandered into the accursed city it seemed as though Gotham itself would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, decimated and become as miserable and as bleak as the city itself; So it was rare to find someone who genuinely could still bring it in themselves to smile whilst in a city like this. And for that Dick had to give you props for being brave enough -and strong enough- to be kind in a place that would gladly take pleasure in stepping over and on you at any inconvenience. For it was truly a sign of bravery at its finest.

‘That kid is sure brave.’ Jason signed, knowing that people like you don’t last in Gotham but it was people like you that Gotham needed the most, but how could a retched place like Gotham heal when it’s always been a rotten city since it’s very conception? He didn’t believe it could be possible but there were always solutions to fighting the problem that seemed impossible to overcome. So who cares if you weren’t the brightest bulb at school? The education system in Gotham was shit anyway the last time he checked and he doubted much had changed when he…well you know…

Tim was silent. He was too busy recognising the protective measures that Damian was taking specifically for you; mainly the hand tugging at your arm anytime he thought you were getting distracted or wandering off elsewhere and muttering about how you need to keep or you’ll get left behind, despite the fact that even if you did Damian would allow himself to fall behind just so that he could walk besides you. While he might be part of the majority that didn’t think he’s ever see the day that Damian brought a friend home, never less a friend who was the total opposite of him. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief that Damian finally found a friend, and he knew that both Jason and Dick felt similarly from the looks upon their faces, silently observing how you interact with one another.

The one thing that Tim was confident in was the fact that Damian needed you as much as you needed Damian because you were a beacon of opportunity for his younger brother in many ways that Tim was certain you weren’t made aware of just yet. So while he and his brothers may tease and take this piss about how different you were from Damian, they mean well and express their happiness the only way they knew best; teasing and taking the piss.

‘This library is beautiful Mr Wayne! Do you have any fantasy books?’ You could be heard asking down the hallway, followed by the sound of Bruce softly laughing as he showed you the grand library. ‘This library has any book you can think of and please call me Bruce, it’s not often that Damian brings anyone home for the weekend.’ He says as you looked the Damian confused and a little betrayed. ‘You’ve got friends other than me?’

Damian groaned. ‘No. I don’t, you’re the only friend I’m willing myself to have.’

You smiled and gripped his hand. ‘Aww Dami! That’s so sweet of you to say, despite how brash and blunt you may come across, I’m glad to say that you’re the only friend I’m willing to have too!’ You said without shame. ‘Everyone else isn’t a nice as you are.’ You trailed off while a rare solemn look appeared upon your face as Damian was quick to squeeze your hand reassuringly, Bruce smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not smart like your son mr Wayne, I can’t help it if things don’t come to me as easy as they do others but I try! I try really heard to do my best at every test but…but people tend to laugh of me because to them I’m either slow or thick.’ Damian’s jaw clenched and his brows furrowed upon being remembered of what people tended to call you.

He hated it and whenever he saw it happen, he was quick to utter some threatening words before taking his usual position as your pseudo-bodyguard for the rest of the school day. At first he wasn’t bothered but when you became restless in your pursuit of being his friend, he remembered vividly how people were mocking and making fun of you for trying to be his friend, that he often regrets not accepting your friendship sooner if it meant being able to be there when it counts.

‘When will you get it that Damian doesn’t want to be friends with someone like you.’ One person said.

‘Then I’ll just have to keep trying.’ You rebutted, still smiling somehow.

Another person scoffs. ‘Get fucking real. You’re a weirdo, no one wants to be friends with a weirdo who so fucking slow at everything.’

You merely shrugged, even when someone’s insulting you, your brain doesn’t recognises it as such. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’

‘God you’re so fucking useless that I’m surprised that anyone bothers with you. Let me say this in a way you won’t have to try so hard to understand dipshit. Damian. Will. Never. Be. Friends. With. Someone. Like. You. Ever.’ A third slowly spoke and Damian had heard enough and within a blink of an eye had laid them out flat. You blinked before looking at Damian with a bright smile. ‘Hi Damian! Did you hurt these guys, that’s not very nice.’

‘They insulted you and yet you defend their honour.’ Damian asked incredulously as you both walked down the hallway, leaving the three bullies to groan from their injuries. You shrugged. ‘I wouldn���t say that.’

‘They were insulting you.’ Damian reiterated. ‘They insulted your intelligence and your abilities. People like them often hide bigger insecurities than others.’ Damian replied, finding your ability to keep smiling after such things both annoying as it was admirable.

‘Are we friends now?’ You asked innocently enough and Damian knew he had sealed his fate, and so he sighs and looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, we’re…friends.’ He mutters and doesn’t do anything to stop you from dragging him to art class.

‘I was alone before Damian.’ You admitted as you looked at Bruce with a smile as you squeezed Damian’s hand in kind. ‘But now he’s here and he’s my bestest friend ever!’ Damian honestly wishes that you respect yourself more because you could claim that he saved you multiple times, but you’d never acknowledge the times where you have saved him by being unequivocally kind, sweet and over all a better person then all of Gotham’s civilians combined. ‘I was finding my first week at school horrid before I befriended l/n.’ Damian admitted as you softly cooed. The boy then swallows thickly. ‘Their friendship is much appreciated.’

‘Aww! Dami!’ You cried as you crashed into him, causing you both to hit the floor in a heap of limbs.

While Damian was cursing mom lethal threats and you were laughing, Bruce had already made his mind up about you and was certain to make sure to have Damian invite you over as much as possible. It was obvious for him to see that you and Damian were good for each other despite your vast and glaring differences, however that’s what worked in your favour, the power to have over come all odds was incredible; not to mention the fact that your friendship with Damian had lasted as long as it has was another impressive feet on top of that. Bruce knows it’s been hard for Damian to fit in and find a friend, but he couldn’t have made a better friend than he did in the likes of you.

You were more than defiantly welcomed back to the manor if Bruce had anything to say about it.

‘Get off of me!’ Damian shouts.

‘Damian, I think my foot is stuck with yours.’ You reply, scared.

‘That’s your own foot- how did you manage to tangle yourself up in yourself? You landed onto of me?’ Damian asked incredulously.

‘Sorry.’ You apologised.

‘Don’t be.’ Damian said.

Bruce smiled one last time before leaving you both alone in the library to untangle yourselves, only to be greeted by Tim, Dick and Jason. ‘Can I help you three?’ Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boys.

‘Nope.’ Dick started.

‘Not really, just…seeing how the little scamps are dealing.’ Jason followed after.

‘Damian? Nice? The same Damian who tried to, oh I don’t know…KILL ME?!’ Tim asked, revealing to Bruce all he needed to know, their breathing behind the library door was telling that they were clearly eavesdropping on the three of you. Jason and Dick looked at him displeased as Tim looked back at them. ‘I’m not the only one of us who thought that.’ He defended himself. ‘I mean it’s nice that he’s looking out for y/n but still that’s not something someone casually forgets.’

Bruce merely leaves Tim, Dick and Jason to their own quarrel, he loves his boys he truly does, but sometimes they’re more trouble than what they’re worth. He can only hope that they don’t scare you off from coming back for good because he was already planning your next visit.

[amazinglyashy]

hi! i was wondering if i can request lads boys comforting their s/o bc their cat has passed. my baby passed today and i’m grieving really hard. thank you and have an amazing day🫶🏻

Moving this one up immediately in my box just to express my condolences. Your baby was very loved, I'm sure, and I hope you get through this tough time with care <3 I'm sorry for your loss. It's a tough time, regardless of who you're losing. My partner's grandpa passed a couple years back and I remember us crying, laughing and bowling, crying again, and talking a lot. Heck, I went to a craft store right after I heard the news and wandered around for two hours without any goal. I think I bought lolipop sticks. Take care love <3 You'll get through this. I know it's hard.

LaDS men when your pet cat has passed away

Xavier -

Since he lives so close by, your baby was his baby too, so he's devastated. Not equally so, he knows you spent more time with them, and you had them long before you had met him, but still- the pain exists.

The both of you are a bundle of blankets for a long while, just lying in the comfort and going through the both of your phones as you look for every single photo or video that has your cat in it, even just a little bit.

Lots of tears, but lots of laughs as well.

Everything is clear and apparent with every single memory the two of you go through- every little quirk your cat had, every little habit they had-

You both have a really nice time just talking about your cat, and any of the goofy mischief they used to get up to.

Of course you cry, and of course Xavier holds you through it. He knows how hard this is for you, and he knows it'll pass.

But until then, he's got you.

He's always got you.

Zayne -

He may be pragmatic to an extreme sometimes, but when it comes to grieving, he knows how hard it can be on the human psychic.

Not to mention on someone like you, who's already been through enough.

He'll definitely ask you if you want a hug, and if the answer is yes, he'll hold you, squeezing you so snugly and for so long that surely his muscle memory doesn't know a different position anymore.

Warm tea or cocoa, his old cardigan on your shoulders, pillows and blankets surrounding you on the couch, and just…

A lot of care.

If you ask him for any opinions or advice, he probably won't be able to give it to you. He doesn't want to risk anything coming out abrasive when you're still so tender, so he'll settle for condolences and anything comforting he can think of.

"I know it hurts. And you can try as you might, but the hole they left won't ever manage to be blocked out. All you can do is keep going, and hold their memory close."

Sylus -

Deep breath, it's going to be alright.

Loss is definitely something he's familiar with- and it's partially why he doesn't have anyone of his own. Mephisto may have a personality, but he's also mechanical. There's no way for him to disappear, because every bit of data in him gets saved, just in case.

But there's also no way your cat will disappear either, because Sylus has saved every memory of her, to make sure you will always have something should this day arrived.

He just didn't expect it to come so soon.

Doesn't matter what job he has, it's left to Luke and Kieran. He's by your side to care for you in whatever capacity you may need. He takes a lot of initiative, but he also asks you a lot of questions too. He doesn't want to risk making you uncomfortable, and he knows you're extra tender right now.

A lot of physical affection if that's what you need, and a lot of ideas to help you through it- whether he takes you out somewhere to help distract you from the pain, or goes through old memories with you to help you grieve through it, he'll do anything.

For as long as you may need.

Rafayel -

He hated cats.

Except for this one.

That was partially your fault, but also partially the darned cat's fault for being such a love.

He's devastated, both for you, and for himself.

He'll hug you- kiss you. Anything he can think of that usually cheers you up, even though he knows there's really nothing that's going to help right now.

He's been there, he's experienced loss. He knows what you're going through, and unfortunately- he knows that also means there's not really any helping it.

Someday when you're ready- could be in a month, could be three years from now, it doesn't matter at all him- he'll make you probably one of the favorite gifts you'll ever receive from him.

It's a portrait of your past baby, flowing full of life and color with eyes that sparkle almost as well as theirs did back when they were still around.

Almost.

And sometimes, 'almost' is more than enough to help ease the pain.

[strwberri-milk]

If it interests you, could you do something where the lads guys are talking about a past love (its mc lol) and, watching what they say and how they look, MC mentions that no one has ever spoken with so much love and kindness for them and how lucky the past love must have been. Obviously mc doesn’t know its them.

i really only see this for rafayel, but i do think theyd all react similarly so theyre comibined - fun fact, i totally missed the fact that hes talking about us in his first bond story so i deadass got jealous and internally was like "fine if this man was in love w another person before me ill go stan someone else" it took me so long to realise he was talking about you LMAOO also i took some liberty w this bc i dont really see them talking abuot their first love in front of you unless its to call you his first love

He wasn't really thinking, honest. His mind just wandered and somehow, the way the light hit you just right reminded him of a time where things felt easier. He doesn't really say anything at first until you hear him quietly mutter something under his breath.

After a while you catch snippets of him telling you how much he loved someone, his eyes flicking up to yours every once in a while as he recounts the way it made him feel. He doesn't really go off, more just loses the ends of his sentences whenever you look at him, despite you encouraging him to just tell you what he's feeling.

You want him to elaborate, curious about this part of his life before you - despite the fact that it's because of you. The two of you aren't even really dating yet, but talking about these feelings in front of you seems so unfair. He doesn't want you to feel like you're some second choice. After all, he's still madly in love with you and that's something that's going to persist through his entire life.

Even with as little as he's told you you can piece together that he loved this person quite a lot, looking at him with a fond smile. You're not upset at all, instead, telling him that it must have been so nice to have been loved by him so much. He doesn't know how to tell you that it's how he feels about you, something deep inside of him begging him to just finally confess.

Instead, he just smiles through it, looking away and telling you that it's been a long time. You don't think to ask him about it anymore, moving on with your conversation as though nothing happened.

[sweetgirl-069]

i luv luv LUV rough doms but i’ve been so sad, sick, and fragile recently, i need a soft dom to curl up with my in my bed and cuddle me. we can eat soup and watch movies, just nice quality time where we’re not doing much. and then during the movie, slowly starting to feel their hands wander gently, leaning down to whisper in my ear to ask if i’m okay with this bc they know how bad my mind has been, sighing as i let out a breathy “yes” and nod, feeling them start to whisper soft little praises in my ear as their hands remove my clothes, not in a hasty manner though-just them gazing down at me and appreciate every little article of clothing i’m wearing as they take it off slowly. and then turning me around to face them and kissing softly as my hands run through their hair, placed softly against their chest, tracing and caressing it as we kiss more and more. just soft and gentle love that makes me feel cared about <3

[himezoro]

HI, i’m just soo in love with the way you portray zoro so i was thinking about a request (only if u want to, ofcc)

imagine reader having feelings for zoro and be reciprocated (but reader still doesn’t know bc zoro’s not the best at expressing feelings) they’re in wano and with the way hiyori treats zoro reader thinks zoro likes hiyori so reader puts some distance between them and zoro and gets closer to law (bc i think they’re kinda similar up to some point) AND ZORO NOTICES IT.

that’s it for my request, kinda specific lol, HAVE A NICE DAY and feel free to take as much time as you need if you decide to give it a go <3

i’m so sorry for the wait, but istg I really wanted to give it a go as you said!! <3 the reader is set to be the crew’s strategist/scholar, just like in this one shot (though this request is not meant to be the following of the later!). the events I’m describing are not 100% accurate with the exact way wano happened (in terms of strategy meetings etc etc) but I felt more comfortable this way!! i didn't know if you wanted a good or bad ending, so i went for the first option to compensate with the long wait :( i hope you enjoy it <3

wc: 1.7 ish

stolen times

Saying you only had yourself to blame and your sole eyes to cry, was an understatement.

As the crew’s strategist, you offered to split at Zou in order for everyone to attend the two issues at end: saving Sanji, and the people of Wano. Because of your valuable knowledge and abilities, you stayed alongside Law, Robin, Franky, and Zoro, while the rest of the crew left for Whole Cake island. Considering the matter at hand, everyone had to stick to their role, even if it meant pretending not to know one another.

Even if it meant pretending not to know Roronoa Zoro.

Saying you knew Roronoa Zoro was also an understatement. After all the time you spent alongside the swordsman, it felt like you understood him pretty well, without as much as a word. You understood his thrive to perfect his craft, his dedication, his patience regarding improvement, his need for meditation and peace, his oath. You knew his favorite mug to drink from, the way he likes his rice, his favorite sleeping position. You could hear the laughters he would let while talking to Luffy, see the protective hold he would have on Chopper while walking, see the flex of his strong built, the blink of his dark eye, the bite on his lower lip.

Everything from Roronoa Zoro was framed in the back of your eye. You loved, admired the swordsman. Your relationship with him was pleasant, even though it lacked the romance you so craved for. He would often stay by your side while you worked in your office claiming it was a quiet space and ask if you ate before working, sit next to you during meetings and meals, lay a hand on your waist when walking down the dock, and always, always, look your way before getting into a fight with an enemy. Other than that, nothing was truly shared between the two of you, and because of Zoro’s silence regarding his feelings, your mind never allowed itself to wander through the possibilities of his heart, while the later would try its best concealing your desires.

So pretending not to know about the way another woman was treating him and tending to his needs was torture. And none of this would have happened if you had ruled for Zoro to go to Whole Cake. Which is why you deeply cursed yourself, even though it was for a greater cause.

Time seemed long until you all reunited at Wano and start planning for the assault on Kaido. So when you did reunite with everyone, your jaw almost dropped to the floor when Brook mentioned walking in on Hiyori sleeping on top of Zoro. Pretending not to care was harder than pretending not to know, so you decided to ignore the green-haired male and stay focused on your task. Even if it meant not listening to the drums of your heart and its song.

Which led to raise confusion in Zoro’s mind. He was not explicit with words, but weren’t his gestures enough? Did you not understand him like he thought you did?

He would be lying if he said he did not mind your distant attitude. He would even go as far as saying that he felt bothered by it, especially after spending quite some time apart pretending not to know one another. He was surprised to not see your usual smile when you looked at him, and not have you saving him a spot next to your figure.

Instead, there was Trafalgar Law.

And it seemed you enjoyed his company. He could see the two of you talking intently and the way he would lower his head so he could hear you more amongst the ruckus. He could see the way his grey eyes would pierce at your features, like a hawk. Hell, he even saw how Law casually laid a hand on your arm when you got up the table to wash your hands.

Zoro clicked his tongue and threw daggers at Law with his one functioning eye, wishing his eye could kill.

When the reunion ended and everyone started leaving to their room, the swordsman could not help himself but bump into you on his way, which you could not possibly ignore. Your eyes met before you averted your gaze and started walking again, which he prevented by standing your way.

And yet, he did not let out a single word. Or at least, not a single one he wished to say.

“Enjoying the alliance I see.”

You scoffed, your pride taking advantage.

“So do you, Roronoa”, you looked down at Enma with an arched brow, “Nice sword you have here.”

“Thanks, Hiyori gave it to me.” he answered, not noticing the ice in your tone, or maybe ignoring it for how warm he felt hearing your voice, even if it lacked its usual honey.

Hearing the name you resented triggered your jealousy. You simply nodded and formed an “oh” with your lips, its shape taking his breath away. It took him a lot of strength not to plant a kiss on your pout, but before he could even argue, someone called you, interrupting his train of thought.

“(Y/N)-ya, I need your input on the number of fleets for the assault before we head out.” Law said from behind Zoro, which prevented the doctor from seeing the grim look on the swordsman’s face.

“Already on first name basis with the Doctor huh?” Zoro said, clicking his tongue in the process.

Just like you with Hiyori, you wished to say. You wanted to shake him off, ask him what the matter was if Law used your first name. You wanted him to tell you he liked you and not Hiyori, and him to throw his new sword away. You knew these were unfair feelings, and probably a little mean. If Zoro had found solace in the kindness of Hiyori and the beauty of Wano, then there was nothing for you to do, right?

With these invading thoughts in mind, you simply sighed and offered him a small, sad smile before joining Law in his quarters.

“I’ll see you in three days for the assault. Please train well, everyone is counting on you.”

Seeing you walk past him to join Law hurt him more than he wished to admit. He did not turn around to watch you walk away, swallowing whole. He waited a second before walking away as well, regrouping with Hiyori.

// the festivities after the assault //

When Kaido was defeated after much efforts, the Mugiwara and the alliance craved for a celebration. Everyone was reunited on the Sunny amongst sake, flowers, food, music and laughters.

You had your back resting on the railing, enjoying the breeze in your hair with a cup of your favorite drink in your hand, looking at the rejoice faces around you. Of course, your eyes followed the trail of Zoro, and the fact that the swordsman was still sitting with Hyori.

Sighing, you felt the presence of Law getting closer to yours. He stood beside you, his eyes looking in the same direction as yours.

“I have to admit (Y/N)-ya, you remarkably led the battlefield.”

”Because you doubted this alliance? Here I thought we were able of performing miracles.” you playfully added using his phrases, slightly shoving the Doctor in the process. Trafalgar Law felt himself smirking, not bothering to answer your gentle attack, surprisingly, simply enjoying your presence.

During the course of this alliance, you had gotten closer with the Doctor. His quietness and charisma was similar to Zoro’s, even though he was not as large as the green-haired. Law found himself enjoying talking to you, especially in this setting. He thought you were intelligent and committed to your work, dedicated to saving lives with the best plans, just like he dedicated his life as a doctor to save others. You could see how he grew accustomed to the crew’s nonchalant antics, and safe around you all. Even you were surprised that he did not betray Luffy’s trust, since you were part of the ones that doubted Luffy’s decision.

But getting closer to Law, even as amicably as your relationship with him was, did not go unnoticed, especially by the swordsman himself. Three days ago, he felt a gap between the two of you, which he was not used to. Him, who was so used to stay by your side when you stayed on the railing to lovingly keep an eye on everyone. Him, who was so used to enjoying your presence and your scent. Him, that was now staring at you and Law amidst the laughters of his friends, ignoring Hiyori beside him.

Right now, he had two options at hand. Either closing the distance, or risking losing you to another world.

“Go talk to her.” he heard Hiyori’s voice beside him speak, which cut his train of thought.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I feel like I got to know you enough to know that (Y/N)-san holds a dear place to your heart. Pardon me if I am wrong, though, but she may not be aware of your feelings.”

Zoro sighed and did not find the words to answer Hiyori. Instead, he kept his eye on you all along. You were so beautiful, glorious.

When Law left to get you another drink, Zoro took this opportunity to get up and walk to you, his presence getting more and more overpowering as he got closer to you. As he got beside you, you did not dare to move, feeling a pull.

There he stayed beside you, enjoying your presence as he should. The air blowing in your hair danced its way to his heart again, a dusty shade of pink coloring his features. On your hand, it felt hard to talk, a mix of sadness, desire, pride and guilt creeping in your heart.

The swordsman crossed his arm as he kept his built back onto the railing, finally uttering the words he wished to say, closing his one eye.

“You were missed, you better know that.”

And all he heard was your scoff and laugh at his subtle yet commanding hint.

“What’s making ya laugh, woman?” he turned to you, opening his eye, basking in your glory.

“You are, Zoro. You are clearly implying that you missed my presence, while you’re here with your girlfriend! It’s preposterous, even for you.” You said, trying to calm your laughter, clearly a defense mechanism.

“Huh?! Are you insane?! Who are you talking about?” he asked, dumbfounded with a bit of irritation.

“Hiyori, who else? I wish the two of you all the happiness in the world. But you should not imply things you either do not mean or should not mean in a relationship.”

“What relationship are you even talking about for God’s sake? Are you high? Drunk?”

“Stop lying to me! I understand you have boundaries and secrets and all, but I saw how the two of you are acting! And Brook even told me you slept together! So please, for the sake of my heart, Zoro : do not say words you should not say when you are involved with someone else.”

You let out a huge sigh at the end of your speech, trying your best to keep your composure. Zoro stared at you, quite confused at your words. But amidst them all, Zoro remembered how he understood you like no one could. And in spite of your ludicrous accusations, Zoro knew better. Regardless of him knowing better, his stubbornness got the best of him at that moment.

“You’re one to talk, with Tra-guy sticking to you. He’s been all over you, ready to steal you away from me and the crew.”

“What are you even talking about? I am not planning on leaving you and the crew, and Law is just a friend. Surely, he is not interested in stealing me away on his submarine. Don’t be preposterous.”

“Only an idiot wouldn’t want to steal you away if they could.”

Your eyes met his for a moment, and it felt obvious. Natural. Before Law could come back with the drink you wanted, you offered him a small smile, set on cutting the tension.

“So, are you dating Hiyori?”

“I thought it was clear that I’m not interested in dating her.” he replied, which made you look at him with an arched brow.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Isn’t it obvious?”

“Just as obvious as your probable feelings for me, if you want my opinion.”

Zoro sighed, blaming himself for not being able to normally express his feelings to you, worried, that someone like Law could.

“How can I make my feelings clearer then?” he genuinely asked, feeling Law coming your way.

“You could start by getting me a drink?” you suggested with a knowing smile as Law arrived in front of the two of you.

Needless to say, Zoro forcefully took the drink from the other captain’s hands to hand it to you, with a smirk on his lips.

“Ain’t nobody stealing my girl here, Tra-guy.” he muttered to his “rival”, leaving Law confused and you laughing.

From that moment on, the distance finally closed and Zoro felt exactly where he belonged: right by your side.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

the boss’s daughter (gr63)

george russell x wolff!reader

summary: you become attached to a certain british driver, but he panics when he thinks about the repercussions of your relationship

notes: i’ve only ever written george one other time and it didn’t get all that much love, but that could’ve been bc the tags weren’t working so we’ll see how this goes. i hate having to do math with ages when it comes to fics so we’re all going to pretend that toto and susie are older than they are so they can have a daughter who is age appropriate for george 👍

Your father had tried his hardest, for years, to get you interested in racing. Your parents were Susie and Toto Wolff for god’s sake, it didn’t make any sense to him why you were so disinterested in cars.

Susie tried to convince him it was okay. “So she’s not going to be a Formula One driver, she’ll find something else. Something she enjoys.”

Little did they know that something was going to end up a someone.

Some might’ve called it lazy, your gift to your father on father’s day being the promise you’d attend a race weekend with him. But you would call it financially responsible.

You mother made you keep your promise, even after gifting him something he’d actually use.

“It’ll make him so happy.” She cooed at you.

And happy he was, taking you around the paddock from garage to garage, introducing you to the other team principals, even a few of the drivers. You ended your tour back at the Mercedes building, you father’s arm over your shoulder as he guided you through the crowds.

He tugs you along with him as he talks to the engineers. You’re sure it’s important, but to you it just sounds like nonsense droning on.

Your eyes wander around the garage, stopping on the two drivers standing in the corner.

You’d met Lewis before, you father adored the man. He was invited to various family gatherings and parties. He was sweet, his dog Roscoe even sweeter.

You hadn’t met George yet though. Sure, you’d seen him on the team instagram, accidentally turning himself into a meme practically every weekend.

You watch as George talks animatedly with Lewis, his hair slightly falling into his face. Lewis eventually gives George a pat on his arm, then walks away, leaving the younger driver alone.

“You haven’t taken me to meet George yet.” You tell your father once he’s finished with the engineers, softly tugging at his arm.

He pulls you over to the young British driver, who seems to stand up straighter in the presence of your father.

“George, this is my daughter, Y/n.” He introduces you.

When George’s eyes meet yours, you can’t help but drown in them. The soft green practically glitters in the sun.

“Nice to meet you.” He says, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand in yours and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Toto looks between the two of you and very quickly notices the glint in your eyes. He also notices the way George’s lips tilt upwards in a soft smile.

“Alright, c’mon, let’s leave George to get ready.” He says, attempting to pull you away from George.

“But I want to see the car.” You keep yourself planted in front of George.

“You can go see Lewis’ car. I’m sure George wants some time alone before the race.”

“I can show her. I’m not busy.” George says, shrinking slightly when Toto’s eyes meet his.

“Alright.” Toto says gruffly, making sure to follow right behind you as George leads you to his side of the garage.

George almost looks nervous as he shows you his car, pointing out different things, then showing you everything on the steering wheel. You step closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his as he points at the different buttons.

Toto lets out a breath when it’s time for George to actually get ready for the race and get in the car. He pulls you back over to where he sits with the engineers and sits you down next to him.

The race is long, but at least if you watch the screens you’ll actually be able to see the cars driving as opposed to their zooming by on the actual track.

George only makes it barely outside the podium, scoring P4 after the race. You watch as he pulls his helmet and balaclava off in frustration. His golden hair sticks out in every direction. A light sheen of sweat coats his face, and you can see the light pink imprints on his cheeks from the balaclava.

You’re able to escape your father for a moment after the race to find George talking to some of the Mercedes workers. He’s got his race suit tied around his waist and a water bottle in his hands.

“Hi George.” You say when there’s a break in their conversation.

“Hi Y/n.” He says, giving you a small smile. “I hope you enjoyed your first race.”

You shrug. “It was alright. I much preferred the company before and after the race.” You tell him, letting your hand trail up and down his bicep.

He flushes under your gaze, stuttering out a quick “thank you” before he’s pulled away.

He doesn’t see you again that day, hoping that you’ll decide to attend another race sometime in the future.

You do, hoping to see the British driver again, maybe this time without your father watching over you like a hawk.

You attempt to seem more casual in the garage this week, only letting your eyes wander occasionally in search of George. He’s not hard to find, his height making him easy to see.

You catch his eye as he gets ready for the race. He gives you a soft smile, to which you reciprocate and give him a wink. His face flushes as he quickly tugs the balaclava over his head.

He doesn’t get a podium, but stays pretty high in the points. He’s slick with sweat when he gets out of his car, his hair is flattened to his head, and sticks out when he runs his hands through it.

He lets out a breath when he gets back to his driver’s room, closing the door behind him, but feels it get caught in his throat again when he sees you on his couch.

“Hey George. Good race.” You tell him.

“Th-thank you.” He stutters out. “Who let you in here?” He doesn’t sound put off or offended in his question, he’s genuinely curious as to how you found your way to his room.

“My dad is the team principal. I have access to pretty much wherever I want.” You stand up and slowly walk over to him. “Look at your hair.” You say as you softly run your fingers through the golden strands, attempting to straighten them out.

George huffs out a small laugh, not sure what to do. You’re very close to him now, practically pressed up against him. He can see the sparkles in your eyes, and can smell your sweet shampoo.

You catch his eyes wandering around, seemingly looking anywhere but at you. You use your fingers yo tilt his chin down so that he has to look at you. You smirk up at him.

“Do I make you nervous George?” You ask softly.

His cheeks flush. “No, no, I’m fine.” He gives you an unconvincing smile.

“You are actually.” You tell him as you lean towards him. You give him plenty of time to back away before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

The kiss is brief, teasing. George can’t quite process it’s happening before you pull away.

You give him a soft pat on his chest, the black fireproofs smooth under your hand. “See you later George.” You wink, then leave him in his driver’s room.

George can’t seem to look his boss in the eye after your encounter in his room, especially not when you seem to find him at every race, and pull him into secluded rooms or hallways with your lips attached to his.

He’s in dangerous territory, he knows that. But he can’t stop. Not when your tongue is practically down his throat, and not when he holds you in his arms in his hotel room at night. He’s grown attached to you, addicted one might even say.

He doesn’t know what this is, neither of you have put a label on it yet, but the time you’re spending together sure feels an awful lot like the time a couple would spend together.

He was equally relieved and terrified when you told him that you wanted to make your relationship public. It was in his hotel room, you were wrapped up in his arms and a blanket, playing with his hands when you told him. He was glad to hear that you were in fact dating, that his heart could stop clenching every time he was with you, wondering if it was going to be the last.

He however knew that he was not mentally or physically prepared to find out what was going to happen when Toto found out. Was he going to lose his job? His life? Both were reasonable expectations in his head.

You’d been around George long enough now to sense his unease. You sit up, slightly pulling yourself away from him. “Unless… you don’t want to…”

He can’t speak, he can’t find the right words to say, he’s seemingly paralyzed.

“Okay. I get it.” You say, getting up from his bed. “You can’t date the boss’s daughter. Obviously. It was stupid to think this could work.”

He scrambles up from the bed when he finally processes your words. His sweatpants get caught in the blanket, tugging them lower down his hips. “Y/n, wait-”

You grab your small bag you brought to his room and walk to the door. “It’s okay George. Really, I understand.” You sigh. “I had fun though.” You give him a small smile before leaving.

He gives you space for the rest of the night, hoping that he’ll be able to find you at the track the next day to talk things through. He’s surprised when he doesn’t see you anywhere. He attempts to casually ask Toto where you had gone.

Toto doesn’t think twice before answering. “She wasn’t feeling well. She took a plane back home this morning.”

He waits for you to appear again, race after race after race, hoping that you’ll come back and talk to him. He tries calling, texting, even messaging you via instagram, all of which go ignored.

He feels like he’s lost a part of himself. And he’s determined to get that back.

Toto is surprised to find George at the door to his home over the break. The poor British driver wrapped up in a coat, shivering, clutching an almost frozen looking bouquet in his hands.

“George? What are you doing?” He asks.

George takes a deep breath. “I’m here to see Y/n. We were together during the season, but I made a mistake, and now I’m here to apologize and ask her if she’ll have me. Again.”

Toto looks even more confused. “You were dating my daughter?”

George gulps. “Yes. I was. And it was amazing, and I really care about her. And I would like to keep… dating your daughter…” he trails off.

“Leave.” Toto attempts to shut the door.

“Dad?” George sees you appear behind your father. “George, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to apologize. I shouldn’t have let you leave, and I should’ve been able to make our relationship public. I’m here to ask you for another chance.”

You brush your father out of the way, and grab onto George’s free hand, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him. His hand is freezing, and you feel just how cold his cheeks are when you softly cup his face. You don’t know if the pink blush on his face is from you or the cold.

“No. This is not happening. Absolutely not.” Toto says.

“Dad, I’m dating George. Whether you like it or not.” You turn to face him. “George is a good guy. You know that, you see him practically every weekend. And I’m going to be very upset if you kill and/or fire my boyfriend.”

Toto looks back and forth between the two of you. George with his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and you with a pout on your lips and your eyebrows raised, as if challenging him to do something.

“Fine. You can date my daughter. But no sneaking away at races.” Then he looks directly at you. “No going into his driver’s room.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I won’t go into George’s driver’s room anymore.”

“Anymore?!”

You giggle as George tries to hide himself behind you.

[suckerforcate]

making my first emily request, not read much of it yet bc i'm worried about spoilers and i'm only on season 4 (tbf have fucking blasted through it so far, watching multiple eps a day).

emily/reader, reader is hotch's little sister who isn't part of the bau but works with them occasionally. hotch Does Not Know about her and em. unclear if he even knows she's gay. any other details of it are up to you bestie, i trust you 💚

Segreto Piccolo

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1336

Warning: I think none?

Summary: Emily and you had been dating for a few months and now you're brother had found out (set around season 3 or 4)

A/n: OK, so this is the first time I've ever written for Em. I hope it's okay? Hope it's not too ooc. Would be delighted by a comment or repost!!! <3

■----------------------------------------■

“Come on, babe. He won’t rip your head off.” You nearly whined and gave Emily the best puppy eyes you could manage. You’d been dating her for a few months now, it was all still very fresh, but you really liked her. A lot.

Your brother, Aaron Hotchner, was the Unit Chief of the BAU and sometimes brought you in for cases. You worked as a children’s psychiatrist and had turned out to be very helpful on cases involving children. In any form, as victims, as witnesses and as UnSubs. On one of those cases, you had met Emily Prentiss. Truth be told, she had caught your eye immediately, but it had taken you three more cases to actually ask her out. She was amazing, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. She was smart and quick-witted, an amazing Profiler, adorable with kids and really funny. And after you had started dating you had learned that she loved with all she had. And it was wonderful.

Except for one thing. She was afraid of telling your brother. Emily hadn’t been on the team for long, and now she hooked up with his baby sister? He’d kill her. Or at least that’s what she assumed. She didn’t know Aaron like you did. He could be stoic and serious at work, but he was a sweetheart and a wonderful brother. He loved you and all he wanted was you to be happy. He might need some time adjusting, but he could never be mad for long.

“He’ll kill me, Tesoro. He’s only just warmed up to me.” She grumbled and you knew that was true. Her start on the team had been a bit bumpy. The whole situation was ridiculous. The two of you were cramped in about the smallest room in the whole building. A little storage room. You could feel some sort of utensils press into your spine, and you saw a box of pencils just over Emily’s shoulder. All in all, ridiculous to talk about something like this, at work, while hiding.

“No, he will not, Emily.” You pressed on, your hand still on her hip. Truthfully it didn’t really have anywhere else to go in this cramped space. “It might shock him a bit, but he’ll come around. Please, Em. You know how important Aaron is to me. I want him to know.” You explained what you had explained at least five times before and again gave her puppy dog eyes she rarely could refuse.

You could see her melt under your gaze and just as she wanted to answer the door to the small room opened, and you were faced with your brother’s usual serious expression. His expression didn’t change much, but you could see a subtle twitch of his eyes. His eyes wandered from you to Emily and back to you again. “Office. Both, now.” And he was gone. Emily groaned and closed her eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Em.” You tried to reassure her. You knew he’d probably be more disappointed than anything, cause you hadn’t told him. He didn’t even know you liked women. Emily let her head fall against your shoulder. “We had a nice few months, dolcezza. But I think I’m walking into my own death now.” She really had a hang for drama. Playfully you slapped her shoulder and chuckled.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, babe.” You said and took her hand to lead her into your brother's office. No point in hiding it now. Besides, you had the suspicion that Penelope had known right from the start and that meant that at least Derek knew as well. And JJ was perceptive, Spencer on the other hand not so much for a Profiler. But what does it matter?

You led Emily through the bullpen and up the few steps right to Aaron’s office door. It was open, and your brother was already looking at you. No need to knock, you thought. You simply stepped inside, Emily practically needing to be dragged in there behind you. You motioned her to close the door and very reluctantly she let go of your hand to do so.

Aaron got up and rounded his desk, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets. His features softened visibly. The way they did at work only if you were around. Or if Jack came to visit. “Why didn’t you tell me you like women?” He asked, and you saw a hint of surprise on Emily’s face in the corner of your eye. She didn’t know that he didn’t know. But contrary to what she probably believed now it hadn’t been because you were scared to come out or anything. You simply shrugged.

“I thought I’d tell you if I’ll ever get a girlfriend and then I kind of never did.” You said and looked at him a bit sheepishly. “But now I do.” You said and smiled proudly, which warmed Emily’s heart immediately and calmed her immensely. Aaron even cracked a very small smile. Then he looked at Emily at the small vanished. You grabbed Em’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You’ve been here little more than a year and start dating my sister, Prentiss?” He said and studied Emily. You could say he was profiling her. Emily opened her mouth, no doubt to defend herself. But Aaron gave her not a second. “Remember, I’m your superior. Hurt her, and you’ll fly off this team faster than you can blink.” You had to hide a small giggle. Aaron rarely played protective brother. It was a bit funny to see almost all colour fade from Emily’s face. She interrogated Serial Killers, but your brother was too much.

“Alright, Aaron. Enough of that.” You said and drew his attention back to you. He softened a bit again and pulled you into a rare hug. No words. Just a hug. And that was enough. Then he rounded his desk and sat down again.

“You're invited for dinner on Saturday.” He said right before you were out of his office. It nearly looked comedic, the way everything in Emily’s face fell as soon as she heard him. You quickly closed the office door behind you and grabbed her hands.

Emily wasn’t the relationship type. She hadn’t had a lot of them, and they had never been very long. Or at least that’s what she had told you. She was always afraid of somehow fucking it up. You squeezed her hands until she was looking at you.

“It’ll be fine. He didn’t rip your head off now, he won’t on Saturday. And Jack will love you, which is basically the way to Aaron’s heart.” It did little to calm the brunette. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly.

“What do I wear? How do I act? Do I buy him something? Wine? I’ve never done this before, dolcezza.” She rambled, and it would have been cute if she hadn’t looked so worked up.

“You’ll wear something nice. Which you always do. I promise Aaron will just be wearing a T-shirt. You act like yourself which is the way I love you. And wine is a good idea but absolutely not necessary.” You assured her, answering one question after another. You had been so concerned about calming her that you hadn’t really thought about the exact words you had used.

“Love?” She asked a bit perplexed. Maybe it was a bit early but with Emily? How could you not love her. You grinned a bit stupidly. “Of course, you idiot.” She cracked a smile at that, and you were very thankful for that. You’d walk through hell to see that smile.

“Ti amo anch'io, tesoro.” She whispered against your lips, having leaned in. The kiss was a bit sloppy, cause you were both smiling like lovesick idiots. Which you kind of were.

“Oh my god, this is adorable!” A very excited voice called through the bullpen, unmistakably Penelope’s. Emily and you broke apart, laughing softly. You stood incredibly close to each other, hands still intertwined. Both your head turned, and you weren’t surprised to see the whole team stare at you. Most of them just smiled knowingly. Spencer looked like he had missed about twenty chapters, which her kind of had. His head turned from us to JJ next him.

“Wha-?” Everyone just laughed fondly. Everything was fine.

[springgirlshowers]

hii idk if you have time for a request rn but would you be willing to write about joost and reader staying in one night but the reader is kinda anxious about them moving things into the bedroom bc she’s not in the mood at all that night and joost notices and is just really gentle and kind and assures her they can just cuddle or whatever and she never has to do anything to please him? i just think that would be really nice to read about him for a change :’) if not, no worries!! thank you sm either way <33

this is such a sweet request!!! ty anon! this was so comforting to write honestly and i hope this comforts u, enjoy <333

wc: 643 (lil one for today)

Like always, you never could point out when the exact transition to this point happened. It’s like one second you were casually talking and the next second you were making out on the couch.

Kissing was nice, but you didn’t want to do anything more than that for now. Your libido was low tonight.

As Joosts hand began to wander further down your waist, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your bottoms, he felt the way you tensed up.

Usually when you’d get this far, your body language was completely different. Your hands would be roaming all over his body, your muscles would be completely relaxed, and you’d let out those little breaths and noises of satisfaction.

Tonight you seemed still. Stiff. Quiet. Anxious. Joost paused his movements and pulled away.

“You okay?” He asked, his eyebrows knit together in a concerned way.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You lied, Joost could see through your act.

“You can tell me if there’s something wrong, liefje. It’s okay if you’re not in the mood tonight.” He reassured you.

“Yeah. You’re okay if we don’t go any farther tonight?” You looked away as you asked, fingers fidgeting with the chain that dangled around his neck.

“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” Joost nodded, completely unbothered as he sat up, you copied his moments, facing him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood.” You said nervously as you looked down at your hands in your lap, feeling a bit bad that you ended the moment so abruptly.

“Don’t apologize liefje, you didn’t kill anything.” He shook his head, brushing a strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear.

“Well, I just feel bad cause you’re in the mood and I’m not. I wanna make you feel good and I don’t wanna give you blue balls-“ Joost cut your rambling with a small shush.

“Hey,” He said sweetly, cupping your face and chuckling at your words. “I care about your pleasure over mine. And if your pleasure tonight is just cuddling and watching a movie, then we’ll just cuddle and watch a movie.” He shrugged, unbothered.

“Yeah. I’d like that tonight.” You smiled, “Sorry.” You said apologetically, eyes darting away.

“Hey, look at me. You have nothing to apologize for, schatje.” He soothingly rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks as your eyes met his.

“I don’t care about blue balls or any of that bullshit. I only care if you’re comfortable. So don’t think you have to make yourself do something you don’t want to do just because you want to please me. The only thing that will please me is you being happy and comfortable. Okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.” A true smile covered your lips, Joost could feel your body finally relax, all stiffness gone.

“Good. You don’t have to thank me either.” He grinned, placing another sweet kiss onto your forehead before leaning forward to the coffee table in front of you, grabbing the remote off of it and leaning back into the couch.

Joost put his arm along the top of the couch and you moved into the open space, snuggling against his side as he moved his arm from the couch to around you. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, a small breath of satisfaction left you.

Joost wasn’t lying. He got the same amount of satisfaction and pleasure out of this as he would if you took things farther and into the bedroom. Hell, seeing you snuggled up comfortably next to him with a smile on your face was more satisfying than sex. It was heartwarming. He desires to see you happy.

And if you were happy like this, Joost could give less of a shit about what his libido wanted.

“Now, what movie are you thinking of tonight?” He asked, holding out the remote to you.

[vigilskeep]

now that you finished inquisition, what did you think of it? like favorite things, least favorite, etc?

oh man okay

things i love about dragon age inquisition:

capturing the specific feeling of bonding with a group of people you have absolutely nothing in common with because u all had to go through something long and specific together

the maps can be so pretty and in places really calming and lovely to spend time in. it does make me want to explore and i have no explorer’s instinct

i love the war table and judgements i think those are really fun features

i like that approval for many major decisions applies to everyone regardless of who you bring to specific events/quests. it feels a lot less like you have to manage that really hard, as you sometimes do in the other games and also really noticeably to me in something like baldur’s gate 3. it’s irritating when i have to plan ahead and can’t take who i want to hear from

i like how attached you can get to little npcs who wander around

i loveeeee fighting dragons and how beautiful they all are

little puzzles <3

the collectibles are also mostly fine by me i am a magpie by nature. as long as i can find them, obviously, bc if i can’t they suck and this whole game sucks

the templar specialisation is fun and i enjoyed that part of combat a lot. wrath of heaven/spell purge combo is a power trip

i thought my character was pretty :) i defeated u in the end dai character creator. may you be as merciful when we meet in battle once more

i’m not a huge crafter but being able to tint things is rlly nice

blackwall’s romance is good

vivienne is there

they let me briefly tame a dragon at the end there

things i don’t love about dragon age inquisition:

some genuine cruelty in writing the dalish in a way that feels shockingly callous to the real world cultures the writers took inspiration from

never giving the dalish or the rebel mages any kind of voice of their own and making the player do all that work if they care, which i also feel limits my roleplaying creativity

refusing to let you challenge any of the often overwhelmingly conservative views expressed by other characters without receiving only derision and disapproval. inquisition is a game that punishes you at every turn for having your own opinions, in a way that could be interesting if it was willing to truly let you develop complex or antagonistic relationships with those characters, but ends up mostly just feeling mocking when nobody ever even tries to see your side, while simply agreeing with these people always rewards you with content. origins was capable of letting you engage in discussion, and da2 let you form rivalries that mattered; inquisition, despite starring some of the most intentionally controversial characters, does neither

the game engineering conflicts against groups like the freemen of the dales or the avvar that mean nothing to the player and range from vaguely to seriously upsetting in their assumptions about who it’s normal to just start killing en masse. it’s both boring and distressing

odd, for lack of a better word “casting choices”, like having the fantasy impoverished racial minority all be white within the party while the wealthiest and most privileged are characters of colour, or for a more in-world example having the elves express the most distaste towards elves and the mages express the most caution about mages. i don’t know that i quite have the vocabulary to fully discuss why these weird me out, but it all feels... disingenuous? and chosen to forestall criticism based on real world comparisons in a game series that i wish had the nerve to openly confront what it’s talking about if it’s going to try to make any of its conflicts feel relevant

most of the companions, and indeed most of the quests and time spent playing the game, feel disconnected from the main plot. it’s hard to feel any pressure when the game tells you we need to deal with the main plot “right now!” and “get there before corypheus!” when the bulk of the game is doing other things while you’re supposed to be doing that. the majority of companions could be cut without changing anything. and when you finally want to deal with the main plot you just click to start it. it’s not engaging

the game fails to fully expand dialogue for the player character options it provided, particularly notable with its confusing chantry focus when you’ve said for the dozenth time you’re not andrastian

the 2-handed weapon whirlwind ability sound effect is an exercise in creating the worst and most grating sound effect for someone to constantly hear

they didn’t let me romance vivienne

they killed my dragon :(

[thetxtdevil]

Heyyyyy can u write something about reader getting caught by kai while using a vibrator. Like i imagined an escenario where reader is waiting for kai at the hotel room while kai is out with the boys in the US (since the relationship is a secret, reader cant be seen w them) and she misses him so much and she starts getting horny by some thoughts and starts playing with herself with the vibrator bc she thought kai was going to arrive much later. Poor little thing gets caught with her legs spread open, dripping wet and moaning so loudly by her beloved boyfriend 😙 (i live by soft dom kai so his reaction will be according to it lmao)

Please and thank u, love ur works hehe💗

--nsfw--

You wait in the lobby of the hotel Kai lead you to through text message. He said he would meet you there to give you a key but here you were sitting on a chair feeling awkward. Flipping through the provided magazines on the coffee table you hear loud conversations very distinct not only from the foreign language but the familiar tone of each member of your boyfriend's group. You smile to yourself standing up to look at the men to suddenly have your stomach start to flutter when you see your boyfriend Kai. It's been so long since you two have been in the same vicinity his presence hit you like a truck. You study his much broader shoulders and his arms were very muscular, his once dusty blue hair were now long dark locks which exaggerated his angelic features so well. Your heart rate pumps a faster when you see his chocolate eyes glance at you. You felt like a high school girl when you became shy as Kai walks towards you.

"Hey beautiful"

"You're the beautiful one."

Kai chuckles getting as bashful as you "lies."

You wanted to grab his chin to look at you but your resisted, "you know I don't lie" He smiles puffing out his chest in confidence, then Kai's eyes widen as if he remembered something, patting down his pocket he pulls out a small card. "Do you have a pen?" he asks and you quickly search for one in your purse. He starts writing something and hands you the card and pen back.

"This is my room key and I wrote down the level and number. I'm going out with the band but I should be back later."

"Oh okay, thanks." You were stunned to see him leave fast watching him go back to the group of men. You awkwardly smile and wave at Yeonjun and Taehyun who were staring at you in suspicion.

"Who's that" Yeonjun nods towards you.

"Oh... uh- a fan" Kai nervously messes up his hair hoping to hide his blush, "noticed her around so I thought I'd finally give her an autograph"

---

You took a deep breath as you bring the electronic key to the pad on the door handle. Making sure you have the right room number once more you swipe the card resulting in a small green light blinking. Opening the door you waddle in with your duffel bag. The room was like any other hotel room, clean, nice bed sheets, warm light, but there was a beautiful view of the city. Admiring the cars stopping and creeping forward, lights illuminating the area making the stars in the sky barely visible. You stop looking to get yourself comfortable in the room removing the extra layers you had on.

Falling onto the bed you let out a huff of boredom. You let your mind wander to your meeting with Kai from earlier, how handsome he is, how big he looked, how much you wanted to graze your fingers along his milky skin. Closing your eyes to imagine him above you, his light sweet kisses pressing into your lips asking about your day or simple "love yous", and his big hands grouping your breasts. As your thoughts go wild your own fingers explore yourself and a hand massage your tit. You flex your thighs together, back arching, your whole body shaking from arousal. You stop for a moment to remember that you brought a little toy for tonight.

Digging through your bag your hand touches a solid object. Picking it up knowing its your handy wand ready to be used. You study the curves of the vibrator remembering how much Kai love to tease you with it. When you both started dating Kai was a little inexperienced with little knowledge of selfcare so you took it upon yourself to show him the great pleasures of sex toys. Stripping away your clothes settling back on the bed you tease your nipples once more. Reaching for the vibrator clicking it on to fill the air with a light buzzing noise. Pressing the vibrations against your clit instantly shot pleasure through your body making it hard to not get needy. You tease yourself over and over again swiping the wand against your folds but never fully fucking yourself.

A small sound of metal of the door knob clicks but was quiet enough to not be noticed by you. However, your smalls gasps and breathy moans could easily been heard from your boyfriend who came through the door. He walks in quietly to see his beautiful girlfriend spread out before him. His cheeks burn a fiery red, big doe eyes shy away embarrassed that he caught you in such a position until he starts to hear your juices that sounded so delicious to him. All his attention came back to you especially when your moans became calls of his name.

He watches the curl of your toes, every spasm of your open legs leading down to your glistening folds moving around your vibrator. Kai's secret cover was compromised when a drawn out groan escaped from deep within him. Your teary eyes open to look around the room finding Kai standing perfectly in front of you, your legs framing his body.

"Kai, angel, I missed you so much a-and I couldn't wa-"

"canieatyouout"

You eyes widen at his abrupt request but then soften as you widen your legs as a sign of welcome. Kai gets on his knees getting a hold of your hips to push you towards him, towards his face so it was morphing into your pussy. You pant at his luscious muscle lapping up every part of you and his nose bumping into your clit so lovingly. Kai lifts his head to grin at your fucked out state then catches a glimpse of the forgotten wand. He grabs it and as his lips latch onto your clit he shoves the vibrator deep inside you receiving a shocked gasp.

You feel lightheaded by the deep penetration. Your vision begins to see stars with every suck and lick of your clit. Looking down at the sight of your boyfriend, Kai, his long dark hair hiding his face that was already hidden in your cunt, his broad shoulders keeping your legs far apart, one hand thrusting the wand in and out of you while the other explores your soft skin. God did you miss him...

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling, @incogrio

[kemistre]

hiii !!! rlly enjoyed revealing (the first time seeing them shirtless one!) and was hoping u cld write it for other characters? would be great if u cld include oikawa & ushijima & anyone else u wld like!! tysm and have a nice day <3

εïз┊𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 — feat. oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, kuroo tetsurou, akaashi keiji, miya osamu

synopsis. seeing your other half shirtless is a normal part of a relationship, but how do they react when it’s your first time seeing him without his shirt on?

— content warnings. fem!reader, suggestive!, shirtless 2D men (oikawa might just be naked bc i love him <3), pet names (angel, honey, beautiful, pretty girl, darling), written at like 2am and haven't written in months <//3 — word count. 1.2k

εïз┊author's note. ofc nonnie!! i love writing for oiks and writing for ushigushi for the first time what super fun! i know it's been so long since this request <//3 i just felt like writing this today ig😭

εïз┊o. tooru

you looked at your phone, messages pulled up on the screen as you re-read the texts from your boyfriend. 'meet me after practice angel, i'll treat you do a special dinner after~' a sigh fell from your lips as you entered the empty gym. he was always a romantic, and you couldn't say you hated it. "tooru?" your voice was hushed but loud enough for him to hear. Your eyes glanced around the building as you wandered around, the sound of your footsteps mixing in with the echo of your voice. "i'm in here angel, it's just me~" his voice came from the men's locker room, it was teasing, playful, it only made you wonder what he was planning. you pushed open the door slowly before walking in, the sound of running water catching your attention "angel~" as you turned your head, you were greeted by your boyfriend's naked body, water dripping down him as he leaned against wall underneath the running shower. your breath caught in your throat as your eyes raked over his sculpted form. a smirk weaved its way onto his lips at your reaction, closing the distance between the two of you as he put his hands on your hips. "flustered, are we?" he cooed, pulling the bag off of your shoulder and setting it down on the bench. he softly grabbed your wrists, placing them on his chest. "don't be afraid to explore now," he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. "and not just my chest either~"

εïз┊u. wakatoshi

an uncomfortable groan fell from his lips as he rolled his shoulders. the two of you cuddled on his couch, watching your favorite show together. practice had been stressful on him recently, especially with such important competitions coming up. today was the only day you could convince him to not practice. "toshi?" you sat up, concern laced your soft voice. he shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "just sore, that's all honey." he placed a kiss on your forehead. you bit your lip as an idea popped in your head. "let me give you a massage." his eyes widened as heat made its way to his cheeks. "c'mon, it'll feel good" he sighed as you practically begged him. mumbles of agreement fell from his throat before tugging at the bottom of his shirt and pulling it over his head. his face felt hot, a stark contrast to the cold air on his now exposed torso. he laid down on the couch as you kneaded the muscles of his back, a satisfied sigh falling from his lips. "feel good?" he hummed, his body relaxing into your touch. although, his brows furrowed as he spoke. "it's not fair if i'm the only one feeling this good." his voice was deep as he shifted where he laid, his eyes dark, half-lidded. "take your shirt off honey..i'll make sure you're in the clouds by the time i'm done with you."

εïз┊k. tetsurou

he stretched his muscles before bending down into the hood of his car, music playing in the background through his speaker in the garage. sweat dripped down his bare chest as the hot summer heat invaded his garage. "tetsu?" you sweet voice made him raise his head, a smirk plaguing his lips. he watched as you realized his half-naked state, his shorts not leaving much to the imagination either. "why hello there beautiful," he grabbed you by your hip, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your lips. he watched as your eyes trailed down his body, all the way down to... "didn't think you'd be here so soon." his hand snaked up to cup your cheek, making you look at him as his eyes darkened. "oh," you hesitated. "i just wanted to see you." your eyes drifted down again, breath caught in your throat. he guided his hands down to your hips once more, slowly moving you to cage you in between him and his car. your eyes found his, half-lidded and filled with desire. his hands trailing up your shirt over your soft skin. "C'mon pretty girl, let's get this off you." he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

εïз┊a. keiji

his jaw clenched as his arms raised in the air, puffs of white flour spreading on his black hoodie. he blew a stray hair from his vision before attempting to wipe some of the flour off, only to make it worse. he was trying to bake you something special before you came over that night, however, tonight was the night he figured out he was way better at cooking than baking. a sigh fell from his lips as he washed his hands, flicking the water into the sink before pulling his hoodie over his head. his sweatpants sagged on his hips as he walked to his bedroom, throwing the dirtied piece of clothing into his hamper. it wasn't long before he heard the squeak of his front door. "keiji~" your cheerful voice echoed through the small apartment. his eyes glanced at his watch, it was much later than he thought it was. you peaked your head into his room, a smile on your lips. "hey-" he turned towards you, his face instantly flushed. "woah," you stared at him in awe. "so this is what you've been keeping under those hoodies?" his eyes widened slightly as you walked over to him, slowly tracing your fingers along his abs. he looked everywhere but at you, his heart pounded against his chest. although, he couldn't say he didn't love your touch.

εïз┊m. osamu

you laid on your towel as the sand beneath you molded to the shape of you. today was the day where you and 'samu could finally relax with your old high school friends. So, what else to do than go to the beach and play volleyball together? your skin soaked up the sun in your swimsuit as the boys played their game, 'samu still changing in the beach's communal bathroom. it wasn't long before you heard his voice call out to his friends as he rushed over to them. he immediately caught your eye as your lips parted, propping yourself up on your elbows. your boyfriend, messy hair, shirtless, and his v-line very much visible made your face flush. you realized you'd never seen him so...exposed before and he hadn't seen you in the same way. you watched as he talked among his brother and friends, your heart racing in your chest at the sight of beads of sweat raced down his body. "what is it darlin? yer face is red." your breath hitched, eyes wide as you stared at him knelt down next to you. you didn't even realize he had come over to check on you before playing with the boys. his head tilted as you averted your eyes, realization of your expression. "hey," he spoke softly, using his finger to tilt your face towards him once more. "ya like me in a swimsuit that much?" a smirk grew on his lips, his eyes half-lidded and clouded over. "well, if we're bein' honest," he leaned in close his breath hot against your ear sending shivers down your spine. "darlin', i wanna rip this pretty suit o' yers right off ya," he placed a kiss on your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "t's not fair yer the only one that gets to see me without a shirt.."

taglist :: @cemeiia + send me a message if you wanna be added!!

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: use of "angel", oral (m receiving/choso receiving), drinking alcohol, mild masturbation, swearing, mentions of vomiting, swallowing cum, choso and reader are falling hard

A/N: okay so this is loosely edited sorry not sorry bc I wanted to get it posted and I'm obsessed with my own story (੭꒦ິ ^꒦ິ)੭ ; I'll edit it little by little bc I always re-read my shit over and over and go "ah shit that's a typo", but for now, ENJOY

index part twelve | part fourteen

part thirteen word count : 3,026

summer was slowly coming to an end, and reality set in. you couldn’t live in Yuji’s house forever. after all, your boyfriend slept down the hall from your one-night stand. every time you wandered upstairs into Choso’s room, you were reminded of that harsh truth when you glanced at Sukuna’s door. 

you had been apartment hunting for a week or so now, deciding not to tell anyone else until you had something firmly in place. honestly, you weren’t sure how Choso would react, or even Yuji for that matter. could you bear to possibly change things?

for tonight, it didn’t matter. you fell in step behind Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara as your ragtag group headed out for drinks. even Choso met your stride with his hand in yours, a soft, comfortable smile resting on his lips.

“so tell me, are you planning on getting wasted tonight?” Choso asked you as he nudged your shoulder with his. 

“it’s not a celebration if I remember it.” you hummed in response, chuckling lightly. it wouldn’t be the last time you’d go out with your friends, but something about tonight felt… different. 

you’d actually managed to confirm an apartment for the next year, a quaint studio that you could call your own. it was not as nice or spacious as Yuji’s house, but it was yours. part of you hoped that with a little bit of liquid courage, you could share the news with your friends. 

the first bar, everyone took a shot each. and then of course Nobara almost force-fed you three more (not that you really fought her). when you’d eventually arrived at a third bar, it was safe to say you were quite drunk. 

you barely had enough rhythm to sway to the music, Choso’s hands on your hips guiding you as you danced against him in the crowd. “having fun, angel?” Choso whispered against the shell of your ear, sending chills down your spine.

you nodded lazily as you twirled your hands up in the air, relishing the feeling of dancing with him. Nobara and Yuji each had a hold of one of Megumi’s hands, forcing the more stoic of the three to dance in a messy circle with them. you couldn’t help but laugh when you watched as Nobara tried to force their faces together to kiss.

“I can’t believe summer is almost over.” you shouted to Choso over the music. “I don’t want to be a miserable, exhausted student again.”

“I know, but I’ll be there to help you through it.” Choso replied, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in an embrace. “I promise I’ll keep my music down to a minimum when you study.”

ah yes. that… when would you tell him? he’d understand, surely.

“you know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.” Choso said, holding onto your hips and turning you to face him. his cheeks were tinged pink, either from the small amount of alcohol he’d consumed or embarrassment. “I know it feels like this summer has flown by, and we might’ve just scratched the surface of our… relationship; but I’m really falling for you. maybe even dove into a black hole kind of falling.”

you heart pounded in your chest as you watched him struggle to get the words out, averting his gaze as he confessed. maybe you were crazy, even slightly stupid, for everything that has happened since you moved into the house. but it had been an experience; even the worst parts. and it had all led you here, to be dancing with Choso, happy as can be without a worry in the world.

“Choso…” your lips formed his name, the music causing it to fall on deaf ears until your hand came up to rest on his cheek. whether he could truly hear you or not, you had to say it. “I’m falling for you too. head over heels, I think.”

he must’ve heard some part of it, because Choso broke out into a beaming smile that almost reached his ears. not bothering with talking over the music, he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you in, crashing his lips onto yours. god, every kiss he ever gave you sent electricity coursing through your bloodstream. it was a kind of rush that you couldn’t find in the bottom of a shot glass, overtaking every part of you.

Choso pulled back all too quickly, still wearing a grin, before leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “wanna ditch the others and head to bed?” he teased, and you shuddered at his breath fanning over your skin.

you playfully smacked his chest but you couldn’t help but smile too. “later, loverboy. we can’t just ditch them every time you find yourself horny.” you told him. 

it had happened all too often since your first time. you could be in the living room watching a movie with Yuji when Choso would all but set you on fire with his lustful stares, causing the two of you to disappear halfway through – Yuji really didn’t appreciate it, and you’d gotten an earful of complaints. 

even one time, when the two of you had been tasked with doing the grocery shopping, you’d forgotten multiple items on the list because Choso practically dragged you out of there after you’d barely brushed against his crotch with your ass. again, lots of complaining from Yuji, who’s protein bars were one of the forgotten items. 

in the midst of your dancing, Yuji came over to you. you immediately noticed he wasn’t grinning as widely as before. “um… I just wanted to give you a heads up that Sukuna’s almost here.” he blurted out, his face turning a deep shade of red immediately.

your footsteps faltered for a second, and your intoxicated haze began to lift slightly. but no, you had to remind yourself of where you were, and who you were with. sure, Sukuna would probably be a bit crass and annoying, but you were tucked away in Choso’s arms at the moment, trying to have fun. 

“I think this calls for another drink.” was the only thing you said, leaving Choso’s embrace before grabbing Nobara’s arm and dragging her to the bar with you. without question, she watched as you ordered four shots, two for each of you, before downing the liquor at the same time as you. 

there, you regained some of your liquid courage. so you felt only mildly less bothered when you watched Sukuna approach the boys from your spot at the bar. “what’s he doing here?” Nobara ground out, rolling her eyes as she took her last shot.

“I’m assuming Yuji invited him.” you answered, shaking your head. “it’s not like we can fault him, he’s part of his family. although I do wish Sukuna would take the hint and butt out.”

“I heard from Yuji that he’s been going to therapy.” Nobara’s words caused you to turn to face her in shock. she caught your expression and shrugged. “evidently, he broke down to Yuji a few weeks back, and has been going ever since. something about becoming a better version of himself?”

either you were really, really drunk and this was a fever dream, or Sukuna was actually trying to turn a corner. you tried to shake off the achy feeling in your chest, reminding yourself of how he’d made you feel. no amount of therapy and growth could take that away. and it didn’t matter anymore, you were head over heels for Choso, and he treated you like you should be treated. 

you stuck with Nobara at the bar a little while longer, until Choso eventually came looking for you. unfortunately for you, Sukuna was hot on his tail. even more unfortunate – this was the moment that Nobara decided to lean over and throw up on the floor. 

“oh god, fuck.” you hissed and you rushed to hold back her hair, praying the bartender didn’t yell at the two of you. Choso also ran over, helping to hold Nobara up by the arm as she retched another final time. “it’s not too much of a mess, right? we can just push the barstool on top to cover it?”

“don’t think that’s gonna work, bartender’s already coming over here.” Sukuna warned as he came to survey the situation. 

Nobara looked up at you with weepy eyes, still trying to manage a smile. “’ ‘sorry – hic – guess that last shot got me. remind me next time not to do – hic – vodka.” 

“I’ll take her home, but I have to move fast before they kick us out on our asses.” you told Choso as you pushed Nobara’s hair from her face. nothing like being forced to sober up to take care of a friend, always works faster than an ice-cold shower.

“I’ll help you.” your face shot up, realizing that Choso and Sukuna offered in unison. they both shared a look – Choso’s more annoyed, Sukuna’s more aloof. you were forced to look between the two of them, ultimately going with the obvious choice.

“Sukuna…” you started, watching as he practically perked up at his name, “… make sure Megumi and Yuji are okay and get them back safely whenever. Choso, help me get her standing upright and walk her home.” 

you really expected some argument out of Sukuna, considering it was what he enjoyed doing, but he only nodded in agreement. you couldn’t help but feel shocked as he promptly walked away to go back to the other guys, and you shared a look with Choso.

“that was weird, right?” you asked him, but Choso only shrugged as he threw his arm around Nobara’s waist to stand her up. “alright, let’s get out of here. hopefully, the cool air will help.”

as the three of you stumbled out the door, you heard the faint yelling of other people discovering the vomit Nobara had left behind. oh well, your hands were full – literally, Nobara was falling into you at this point. 

-

once you’d safely tucked Nobara away, sacrificing your bed for her, you returned to the kitchen to fill up a cup of water for yourself. Choso sat at the bar, gulping down his own in comfortable silence. 

“well, who’s surprised I ended the night more sober than we thought?” you joked as you leaned on the counter in front of him. 

“I certainly anticipated having to carry you home, not her.” Choso answered with a smirk. 

“at least now I can enjoy the rest of our night together without it being a haze.” you meandered around the counter to lean against him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. his skin blushed in response, and his smirk faltered slightly. “and, I’m not passed out asleep right now, so we can do whatever we want.”

“whatever we want?” Choso’s eyebrow raised, turning to return a kiss onto your neck. 

“why don’t we go upstairs and you can show me how much you’re falling for me?”

that was all it took for Choso to literally throw you over his shoulder as you let out a laugh, marching up the stairs to his room with you in his arms. you’d forgotten all about the news you’d meant to share the minute he tossed you onto his bed, all of your thoughts emptying out entirely. 

he’d stripped faster than you’d ever seen before, his bare torso now exposed to your wandering, greedy hands. how did you get so lucky to have such a hot boyfriend? to show your appreciation, you decided to lay your stomach down on the bed and take his cock into your hands.

Choso hissed as you began to stroke his already hard dick, kitten licking at his tip to force a low groan out of him. “fuck, angel. you’ve never… we’ve never…” Choso gasped, hands twitching at his sides like he was unsure of what to do with them. meanwhile, both your hands together had barely covered him, leaving you breathless with the reality of how big he was in your grasp.

“I know baby, but I wanna make you feel good.” you hummed with a wicked smirk on your lips before your tongue darting out again to lap at the pre-cum slowly beading at the tip. Choso shuddered at the feeling, going utterly insane at the sight of you. 

you continued to thoroughly wet his dick with your saliva, placing kisses and licking stripes up the length of him. finally, you worked up the courage to try and take him into your mouth. Choso watched with half-lidded eyes as you parted your lips and eased his tip past them, using your tongue to caress circles around it. his head dipped back as he barked out a moan, his hand moving on its own to rest gently on the back of your hair. 

“holy shit” Choso breathed, petting your head as you slowly lowered your mouth further, intending to take him to the base if you could. you fought with your gag reflex, breathing through your nose, until finally, you had a hand wrapped around what doesn’t fit. 

you swallow thickly, holding him there with his tip nudging the back of your throat, trying to adjust to his size. you were a little disappointed at your lack of deep throat skills, but you thought that if you tried to fit anymore you’d suffocate. 

“s’okay, you don’t have to take it all. feels s’good like this.” Choso whined as you looked up at him with watery eyes. “doing s’good, angel.”

with his praise, you begin to move your mouth up and down him, drool spilling out whenever you reach his tip and dribbling out. each time your head bobbed, Choso whined, one hand in your hair and the other splayed across your upper back as if to ground himself. your tongue circled his leaky tip each time you were able, the taste of his pre-cum sending white-hot pleasure down to your stomach. 

Choso almost fainted when he watched you move to place your hand between your own legs, your fingers playing with your clit as you continued pleasing him. “fuck, does this turn you on?” he asked, pleasantly surprised when you hummed around him. he’d always assumed women hated giving head, but you… he could practically see you dripping on the sheets from his spot standing at the edge of the bed. 

you increased your pace as you worked at your sensitive nub, fingers coated in your own arousal as you furiously chased your own high with each bob of your head. the sounds coming from Choso only spurred you further into the moment – especially when he whined.

you pulled off him with a wet pop! to catch your breath, still pumping his cock with your free hand. Choso’s eyes were focused on you, his cheeks red and breathing heavy as you locked eyes before drool spilled from your lips. 

he brought a hand to your face, wiping away the slobber on your chin before teasing your wet lips with his thumb. “s’pretty, angel. you’re – fuck – so good at this.” Choso head was swimming from everything stimulating him. the feeling of your hand wrapped around his wet cock, almost hearing how wet your pussy was as you played with yourself, but most of all – your pretty eyes looking up at him while you licked his tip with every tug of your hand. 

fuck, he was already dangerously close to cumming. your warm mouth felt heavenly wrapped around him, too good to even be real. “keep goin’. ‘m close – jesus – you feel s’ good.”

“wanna make you cum, Cho,” you whispered before wrapping your lips around him again, this time taking him all the way despite the protest from your gag reflex. Choso cursed as his fingers knotted in your hair and his head dipped back, the coil in his stomach severely tighter with the feeling of his tip deep down your throat. 

it only took another minute until Choso’s legs were shaking with his oncoming release, your drool dripping down to his aching balls and wetting them with each movement of your head pushing the saliva from your mouth. you could feel his cock twitching on your tongue, and looked up to see his eyebrows scrunched together and eyes squeezed shut.

“fuckin’ hell, ‘m gonna cum, angel.” Choso whined, and when he looked down to see you looking up at him, he felt his orgasm begin to rush from his head to his toes. “lemme pull out, don’t wanna make you-“

you didn’t allow him to finish his sentence, slamming your face down until your nose pressed against his torso and you were gagging on his tip. Choso let out a loud moan before he felt his orgasm rack through him, his dick shooting hot ropes of cum straight down your throat as you began to swallow it with each spurt. 

“shit holy shit, holy fucking shit.” Choso panted out as his body trembled. it wasn’t until you couldn’t feel any more cum in your mouth that you pulled off of him, a string of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock. once you’d began to catch your breath, Choso’s hand tilted your head up and he swiped his thumb across your lower lip. “you… you didn’t have t’ swallow, angel.”

you chuckled and kissed his hand, pleased with yourself that you managed to get it all down. “it didn’t taste bad, Cho. don’t worry, did it feel good?”

he looked at you as if you’d just asked the dumbest question. “of course it did.” Choso answered, his words still coming out choppy with the deep breaths he was gulping down. 

you smiled as he all but collapsed onto the bed next to you, nuzzling his head into your neck and placing loving kisses on your skin. “I just wanted to treat my boyfriend, is that so bad?” 

“let me return the favor, please.” he murmured into your neck, and you chuckled. “pleaaaaase.”

of course, you couldn’t say no to his pleas, and soon enough you found yourself screaming his name with his head nestled between your knees.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlll @iseeyouuu @makingtimemine @spicykimchii @shxhari @ratcoone @mollyrocks420 @willybillyletsgetsilly @distinguishedpenguinbread @ren-ni @sugar504 @runfrme I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo that fact that 27 people have asked to be tagged for this makes me sob tears of thanks .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. IF the tagging didn't work, try turning on notifications for when I post just in case! ♡ if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[falafelluva]

I love your work so much!

I don’t know if you take requests but if you do can you write something with Kenan who has to do his 2 year old daughter’s curly hair? 🫶🏾

; 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐒 - 𝘬.𝘺𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘻 ✮

summary: when a nasty cold hits you, kenan is left in charge of the parenting duties— that includes taking care of your little girls wild curls.

warnings: idk, illness ig? help? tangled curly hair (very triggering)

author’s note: i do in fact take requests for now I can still write them quickly but after this week i have to focus on school bc #examyear, i love this one cs i have curly hair myself but excuse the way this is written- i myself have a mixture that ranges between 3a-3c and kind of went with what i know about my hair even tho i don’t know shizzle about curly hair care💔 also i just named her Ayla bc I don’t know how to write with those y/d/n things [sad]

The afternoon sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You lay in bed, bundled under a soft blanket, battling a nasty cold.

Your head throbbed, and your throat felt like sandpaper, leaving you utterly drained. You could hear the soft sounds of your two-year-old daughter, Ayla, playing in the living room, her laughter breaking through your fog of illness, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to join her anytime soon.

Kenan stepped into the room, his expression a mix of concern and determination. “Hey, love,” he said softly, checking in on you. “How are you feeling?”

You managed a weak smile. “Not great, but I’ll be okay. Just tired.”

He nodded, glancing toward the living room where Ayla was happily babbling to herself. “I have to take her out for a bit, but I don’t know what to do with her hair.”

You chuckled softly, even though it hurt. “She’ll be fine, just leave it for now.”

But Kenan shook his head, his brows furrowing. “Nein, I can’t let her go out like that.” He paused, then added, “Besides, she needs to look..not this uh… wild? people will think I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You watched him, a mix of admiration and amusement. Kenan had always been determined to be an involved dad, but when it came to Ayla’s hair, he was a bit out of his element.

“Okay, just give it a try. You can do this.”

Taking a deep breath, Kenan nodded and headed to the bathroom to gather supplies. He emerged with a small basket filled with the essentials:

an edge brush, edge control, gel, water, curling cream products, and a random wide tooth comb/denman brush. You couldn’t help but smile at how determined he looked.

“Alright, Ayla, come here, Kleine” he called out, trying to keep his voice light and playful. Ayla wandered over, her beautiful but wild curls bouncing with every step. (little one)

Kenan knelt in front of her, brushing his fingers through her hair to assess the situation.

“Alright, let’s see what we’re working with here,” he said, his tone serious as he misted her hair with water from the spray bottle.

Ayla giggled as the droplets landed on her forehead, but then she wrinkled her nose, unsure of what was happening.

“Easy, it’s just water..damn,” Kenan said softly, his tone soothing as he muttered the last word.

“We’re just going to make you look pretty.” He squirted some curly hair product into his hands, rubbing them together before working it through Ayla’s curls.

“This will help keep your hair nice and bouncy, just like how mommy does it for you” he explained, trying to channel the routine he’d always seen you do.

Next, he picked up the Denman brush, the brush glinting in the light. But as he began to gently brush through her curls, Ayla’s mood shifted.

“No, Baba! No!” she whined, shaking her head and pulling away from him.

Kenan paused, glancing at you with wide eyes. “Was mache ich falsch?” he muttered in confusion, clearly at a loss. (what am I doing wrong?)

“It’s okay, just take it slow. Maybe try using your fingers instead,” you suggested, wanting to help him navigate the moment without adding to his frustration.

“Okay, okay,” he replied, his voice still calm but edged with uncertainty. He set down the Denman brush and began to use his fingers to separate her curls gently.

With each careful tug, he began to see the way her curls twisted and spiraled, their natural shape coming to life.

“See, we can do this,” he encouraged, but Ayla still squirmed in his grip, her little face pouting.

“it’s just a little bit of..hair care,” he said, trying to keep his voice cheerful. “You’ll look even more like a princess when we’re done.”

“Baba, no!” Ayla whined again, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Ach, digga,” he murmured, trying to keep the mood light. “We can go get ice cream after this, I promise.” (oh, bro)

Her little face lit up at the mention of ice cream, but she still squirmed, trying to pull away.

Kenan watched her, biting his lip, and then he grabbed the edge brush, hoping it might give him better control over the styling process.

“Okay, let’s try something else,” he said, taking a deep breath. He gently brushed back the front curls to smooth them down and began working on her edges.

He carefully applied a small amount of edge control with his fingers, rubbing it into the baby hairs around her hairline.

“There we go,” he said, concentrating hard. He picked up the edge brush, using it to create little swoops and curves that framed her face—Ayla giggled, her curiosity piqued by the new sensation, and for a moment, the tension eased.

“Pretty, Baba?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, and Kenan felt a surge of pride.

“Very pretty,” he confirmed, a smile spreading across his face. “You’re going to be the cutest girl at the park.”

Encouraged, he continued to work on her edges, and as he styled, he found his rhythm. “See? Isn’t this fun?” he said, still maintaining the cheerful tone he knew she loved.

“Fun!” she echoed, her little hands now playing with the edge brush while he worked.

“Just a little more,” he said, carefully applying some gel to set the style in place. He lightly spritzed her hair with water again, letting the curls bounce back into their shape—with his fingers, he fluffed the curls, giving them definition and volume.

“Baba, I want to help!” Ayla exclaimed, reaching for the brush again.

“Okay, okay,” Kenan said, chuckling at her enthusiasm.

He let her take the brush, guiding her little hands to help. “Just like this, we go from the bottom to the top. Can you do that?”

Ayla nodded, her focus entirely on the task. As she brushed through her curls, Kenan felt a wave of warmth wash over him.

It wasn’t just about getting her hair done; it was about sharing this moment together.

As they both worked on Ayla’s hair, Kenan quietly reminded himself that he was doing this for her. “Wir schaffen das zusammen,” he whispered under his breath, his determination shining through. (We can do it together)

After a few more minutes of playful styling, Kenan finally finished. He leaned back, taking in the sight of his daughter’s beautifully styled curls. “There you go, all done!” he exclaimed.

Ayla turned to look in the mirror, her eyes wide with excitement. “Pretty!” she exclaimed, running her fingers through her curls.

Kenan grinned, relief flooding through him. “You look like a little princess, just like I promised.”

“Baba, I want to go!” she said, tugging at his hand, eager to head out.

“Alright, ice cream it is!” he laughed, ruffling her hair one last time before they headed toward the door.

As they stepped into the bright sunlight, you settled back into your pillows, content in the knowledge that your little family was navigating life together— Kenan pointing at you through the window, the two of them waving at you as you blow a kiss at them.

Watching Kenan hold Ayla’s hand outside, you couldn’t help but smile.

Even though you were feeling under the weather, knowing that Kenan was trying to up his game as a dad made your heart swell with pride.

The way he approached parenting, with such tenderness and determination, filled you with gratitude.

You closed your eyes for a moment, thankful for the life you were building together, one day at a time.