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sugugasm · 5 months ago

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☆ CLICK TO PLAY ! ➜ 450 DEGREES

YOUR LEVEL IS STARTING SOON . . .

level quest : pov ur neighbor is a firefighter, and you love a man in uniform . . just as much as he loves your chocolate chip cookies.

☆ — a message from the developer : hiii i missed uguys sm, i’m so glad to be back for realsies this time :p don’t mind any mistakes or errors & before you read — nsfw content up ahead so pretty please read these warnings !!! strangers to lovers !!! age gap alert ➜ toji is 35 and reader is 25, mentions of sexual themes such as oral, vaginal penetration, pet names such as : sweetheart, angel, baby ofc, princess, honey, etc. usage of sexual terms and usage of terms describing female anatomy, uses she/her pronouns. firefighter! toji x baker! blk fem! reader 333 — word count : 8.0K or 9.0K, i lost track LOL

“fuck . .”

toji cut the engine of his ford pickup and sat for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wash over him. every muscle ached with exhaustion, the double shift of 48 hours catching up to him. he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed instead of snatching a few hours on the lumpy firehouse couch in between calls.

sighing, he grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and levers himself out of the truck. as he turns toward the house, a flash of color across the street quickly catches his attention. his new neighbor — you, out puttering in your postage stamp front yard, wearing a tank top the same vivid coral as the geraniums you were watering and cut-off jean shorts that barely qualified as clothing to any old, bitter bastard.

he’d seen you before. many times. whether it was while leaving for an early session at the gym as you walked your puppy, or his moving day . . where he could barely order around gojo and geto, struggling to tell them where they should place certain boxes due to hearing your alluring giggle coming from the house next door, your curls flowing in the breeze as you gossiped over iced lemonade with mrs. johnson on her porch.

his thoughts are interrupted when you glance toward him, face lighting up with a friendly smile as you spotted him. “hi there! nice to finally see you in the flesh instead of just passin’ headlights at odd hours of the night.”

“sorry about that.” toji hoped his answering smile passed for normal and not serial-killer exhausted. “i’m toji, toji fushiguro. i jus’ moved in last month.”

“well m’ yn. welcome to the neighborhood!” you propped a hand on one cocked hip, thoughtlessly drawing his eye to the thickness of your legs that almost looked golden in the sun lighting.

jesus.

realizing he was staring, he jerks his gaze back to your face, feeling his neck heat up at the idea of you catching on. “thanks. s’ a nice area. quiet.”

“i like to think we're a pretty welcomin’ bunch. in fact . . .” you bite your lip, looking almost shy for a second. “i was plannin’ to do some baking later, as a housewarming gift for all the newbies. any requests? cookies, muffins, scones? i make a mean cinnamon roll too.”

an unexpected warmth kindled in toji’s chest at the kindness of the offer. even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, he couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something nice for him. sadly, baked goods didn't really tend to hold up well on 24-hour shifts.

“that’s really sweet of you, thanks. i love a good chocolate chip cookie, but i’ll happily be your guinea pig for anything.”

“sounds like a plan.” you graced him with another one of those classic, southern hospitality miles. “i’ll surprise you. they’ll be over before you know it!”

“looking forward to it. i better let you get back to . .” he waves a hand vaguely at the riot of flowers on your lawn, colors and smells galore.

“oh, right. see you soon then. welcome home!” with a small wave, you bend to retrieve the watering can, giving him an unobstructed view of her perky ass in those obscenely small shorts.

strangling a groan, toji spun on his heel and double-timed it into the house before you caught him ogling you like a creep. so much for a quiet neighborhood, he thought ruefully as the door shut behind him. you were gonna’ be one hell of a distraction, though some traitorous part of him looked forward to the temptation. it’d been way too long since he'd been around a pretty girl. maybe that's what all this edginess was - his libido waking up and taking notice after a long dry spell.

well, he'd just have to keep any wayward urges in check. no matter how mouthwatering you looked in tiny cutoffs, you were practically a decade younger and a neighbor, at that. off limits. he’d accept your baked goods, enjoy a little innocent flirting, but anything more was out of the question.

resolved, he headed for the shower, already counting the minutes until he could taste whatever delights you were whipping up for him.

the next morning, toji was on his second cup of coffee, basking in the rare luxury of an empty day ahead with no responsibilities, when the doorbell chimed. he opened it to find you, juggling a huge wicker basket with an equally enormous smile. the sweet scent of sugar, vanilla and chocolate wafted out to tease his nostrils so blissfully, just like how your sheer presence teased . . . other parts of him.

“g’mornin’,” you chirped. “i come bearing gifts from the sugar fairy.”

“so i smell . .” his mouth waters as he relieves you of the basket and ushers you inside, noting how your flowered sundress set off your peaches-and-cream personality. no shorts today, but the dress was nearly as enticing as it grasped on to your curves. he wondered if your skin would taste as good as you smelled, then mentally slapped himself.

down boy.

“i hope you don't mind me just droppin’ by like this. i wanted to catch you before you got busy.” your smile faltered slightly as you glanced around the spartan space with its generic bachelor furniture and decided lack of personal touches. “if s’ not a good time . .”

toji set the basket on the coffee table and turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. “you came to my house bearin’ gifts of dessert. trust me, it's never gonna’ be a bad time. i may actually make some sort of sugar delivery beacon to summon you in the future.”

your laugh sounded a little relieved. “aww cute, sounds like my kind of bat signal. i’ll have to get you a spotlight shaped like a cupcake.”

“make it a cookie and you've got yourself a deal.” he grinned at you. “can i interest you in some coffee to go with whatever magic you've got in there? smells incredible.”

“coffee would be great, thank you.”

he led the way into the kitchen, noting how you took in details like the depressing lack of clutter and decoration. the only personal items were a handful of framed photos stuck to the fridge - him and his siblings as kids, his parents' wedding portrait, shots of fishing trips with his buddies — one with snow-white hair and the other with black. it struck him how sterile the space was, more like a way station than a home.

you didn't comment on it, instead you just leaned a hip on the counter and watched him pour a darkened substance into a ‘worlds worst morning person’ mug. there’s a comforting silence as he catches a whiff of your light perfume over the powerful espresso aroma - something floral and citrusy. it suited you.

“i wasn't sure what kind of treats you'd like, so i made a sampler of my greatest hits,” you say brightly. at his gesture, you unpack the basket, setting containers and various utensils on the table. “okay so . . we’ve got triple chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, apple cinnamon scones, and my famous brown butter cinnamon rolls.”

“good lord,” toji shook his head in awe. “you made all this yesterday? after we spoke? do you even sleep?”

you laugh and accept the steaming mug he offered. “who needs sleep when there's sugar? besides, baking relaxes me. i love seeing people enjoy my creations.”

as if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and you bit your lip against a smile. “sounds like someone's ready for a taste test. don’t be shy . . dig in.”

toji didn't need to be told twice. he selected a cinnamon roll, still warm from the oven, and bit in with a moan that would've been beyond embarrassing if his mouth wasn't full of heaven. “shit . . think i jus’ found my religion.”

you giggled that giggle that’d been stuck in his head since the day he heard it. “the cinnamon rolls tend to inspire a cult-like devotion. you haven't even tried em’ with the cream cheese frosting yet.”

he halted with the pastry halfway to his mouth for another rapturous bite. “there’s frosting too?”

in answer, you pulled a container from the basket with a flourish. “i figured you could handle adding your own so it didn't get soggy.”

“you’re an angel.” he slathered a generous amount of fluffy white frosting on the roll, not even caring that he probably looked like an overexcited kid.

watching him take another blissful bite, you cradled your coffee mug in both hands. “soo . . what d’you do that keeps you gettin’ home at such odd hours? i promise m’ not stalking you, but it's a quiet street. hard not to notice the comings and goings.”

toji washed down the sticky-sweet mouthful with a swig of coffee. “i’m a firefighter. we work 24-hour shifts, so my schedule can be pretty unpredictable."

interest sparked in your eyes. “really? that’s so cool! i bet you have some amazing stories.”

“eh. a few,” he allowed. truthfully he tried not to dwell on some of the things he'd seen, the memories that still occasionally jolted him awake in a cold sweat during the night. “it’s rewarding work, but not exactly a picnic for the social life.”

you give him a sympathetic look over the rim of her mug. “i can imagine. is that why you moved? needed a fresh start?”

“somethin’ like that. the job costed me my marriage a couple years back. got tired of walkin’ around the old place alone, so i thought a change of scenery might do me good.”

change of scenery in deed. toji even went as far as to relocate to a different state after his divorce with his wife. even the landscaping around the city had become too much of a heartache. what was once a happy, sensual marriage quickly turned sour the moment toji began working more. the position as chief hadn’t sounded that horrible in his head, but if he knew he’d come home one night - the clock reading exactly 3:17 am, to an unrecognizable man fast asleep in his bed, naked next to his wife, that that position could’ve waited. could’ve been passed on.

there’s a silent second between you two, your face still, “i-im so sorry,” you say softly, and toji feels relief when he sees that your eyes were warm with understanding, free of the pity he'd come to dread whenever his divorce came up in any other conversation he’d have with someone who didn’t know him.

he shrugged. “it is what it is. we married too young, grew apart. my hours didn't help. no hard feelings though.” he mustered up a wry smile. “what about you? you’re a little young to be living the retired grandma life, baking up a storm in the 'burbs.”

you grin, allowing him to lighten the mood. “hey, hey, hey, this grandma can party with the best of em’! fyi, i stayed up past 10 last saturday watching bad girls club.”

toji clutches his chest in feigned shock. “damn, so scandalous! what was the special occasion?”

“all have you know . . i was trying to perfect a new macaron recipe. passionfruit with dark chocolate ganache. they’re a fickle mistress though - one minute too long in the oven and they're as dry as bones.”

“sounds like bakin’ is more than jus’ a hobby for you,” he observed.

you toy with your mug. “it’s my whole life, really. i’m in my second year of culinary school, specializing in pastry arts. when i graduate, i’m hoping to open my own bakery. somewhere people feel welcome and cared for. a safe space, i suppose.” he stares, and you duck your head with an embarrassed laugh. “sorry for the tangent . . it probably sounds so silly.”

“not at all.” toji found himself impressed by the passion and dedication evident in your voice. you had a dream and you were going after it. he remembered that feeling. before the reality of adulthood had started chipping away at his own youthful idealism.

he wanted to say something to encourage you, to protect that light shining in your eyes for as long as possible. “for what it's worth, i think you're gonna’ be amazing,” he told you seriously, holding your gaze. “if this morning’s haul is any indication, you'll have lines around the block.”

you shield your smiling face sweetly. “that’s kind of you to say. i appreciate the vote of confidence. speaking of . .” you hesitate, then forge ahead. “m’ actually working on developing an original signature recipe for my final. multiple components, flavors, textures. the works.”

“sounds ambitious,” he said, eyebrows raised. “what’d you have in mind?”

your eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the question, the thought of genuine curiosity making your heart flutter. “deconstructed black forest cake. dark chocolate cake, kirsch-soaked cherries, vanilla bean whipped cream. i wanna’ play with it, update it. maybe turn it into a trifle or a parfait of some sort.”

toji was no culinary expert. hell - he didn’t even know what half of those things were, but even he could tell you were on to something special. “that’s incredible, yn. lemme’ guess - you need a guinea pig?”

you bite your lip nervously, smile turning impish. “i didn't wanna’ impose, but since you offered the other day . . how would you like to be my official taste-tester? i can't really pay you, but you'll get free rein to sample every variation.”

“where do i sign up?” he was only half joking. even if your creations turned out to be awful, which he highly doubted, any excuse to spend more time with you sounded like a win.

you laugh. “i think i can waive the usual application process on account of the fact that you're doing me a huge favor. plus, it means you won't be able to avoid me constantly showing up at your door to force-feed you desserts.”

“oh no. however will i cope.” he feigned a put-upon sigh.

you shot him a look of amused reproof as she packed up the empty containers. “try to contain your disappointment. i promise to space out surprise sugar bombings. wouldn’t wanna’ make you sick of me or my baking."

“i don’t really think i ever could . . to be honest,” he declared firmly. on impulse, he reaches out to still your fluttering hands with his own. your skin was so soft and warm, sending a tingle zipping up his arm. your breath pauses at the contact and your eyes flew to his, startled.

“i mean it,” he said, voice gone low and intent as he tries to infuse sincerity into every word. “i can't imagine ever getting tired of you. or your company.”

for a suspended moment you just stare at each other in silence. then you swallow, sounding a little breathless as you replied, “likewise. m’ really glad you moved in, toji.”

“me too,” he said roughly. and though he knew he shouldn't, that he was venturing into dangerous territory, he allowed himself to stroke the delicate bones of your wrist with his thumb. just once, to feel your shiver lightly in response. then he released you and stepped back, moving to hold the door open for you in unspoken signal.

“i’ll get out of your hair now,” you murmured as you gathered the empty basket with hands that trembled just slightly. “but i’ll see you soon? for taste testing purposes, of course.”

“absolutely,” he confirmed. “anytime. y’know where to find me.”

with a final nod and smile, you slipped out the door. he watched you go, admiring the sway of your hips, the bounce of your hair, already counting the minutes until he'd see you again.

you were gonna’ end him, so so sweetly too., he realized with a trace of fatalism.

but what a way to go, huh? death by cinnamon rolls.

the day of the first official tasting arrived, and toji found himself unaccountably nervous as he approached your door. he felt a like an awkward kid picking up his prom date, palms sweaty and heart knocking around his ribs. which was ridiculous. this wasn't a date. just two neighbors getting together to sample some sweets. totally casual.

never mind that he'd changed his shirt three times, vacillating between wanting to look nice for you and not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. he’d finally settled on a plain black tee and his least disreputable pair of jeans, adding a hint of cologne as an afterthought.

now, standing on your stoop, he wished he'd brought something. flowers maybe — lillie’s like the ones in your garden, or perhaps wine. did people bring wine to taste testing sessions? probably not. you’d most likely think he was a presumptuous idiot.

shaking his head at his own weird bout of nerves, he raised his hand to knock. before his knuckles could connect, the door swung open to reveal you, looking adorably pretty and flustered. you were wearing a frilly pink apron over a gauzy white sundress scattered with tiny red cherries. your hair was bundled on top of your head in a haphazard knot, loose curls escaping to dance around your swelled cheeks. a dusting of cocoa powder streaked one of them.

“toji - oh, you’re right on time! m’ runnin’ a bit behind, so sorry. come on in.” you stepped back to let him enter and he caught a blend of tantalizing scents - rich chocolate, sweet cherries, warm vanilla, and underneath, the subtle floral musk that was purely you. it made his head swim and his stomach clench with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with the promise of dessert.

he followed you into the kitchen, blinking a bit as he took in the transformation. when he'd helped you carry in groceries a few days ago, the room had been tidy and quaint, with cheerful yellow walls and kitschy retro appliances. now every surface was strewn with baking detritus - bowls, whisks, spatulas, piping bags. the air was hazy with a fine mist of flour and powdered sugar, swirling in the slanting sunlight.

incongruously delicate paper doilies serving as placemats were scattered with miniature cakes, puddles of sauce, and billows of snowy cream. it looked like a fancy bakery had exploded all over the place.

“as you can see, i’ve been experimenting with a few different iterations of the concept,” you said with a small smile, waving a hand at the sugary chaos. “couldn’t settle on just one. i thought i’d get your input n’ then we could narrow it down together.”

“i’m at your service,” he told you gallantly, skating his gaze over the counter. “i’ll warn you though, my palate isn't exactly refined. you might end up with the bland 'it all tastes good' as feedback.”

you giggled. “i’ll take it. okay, let's start basic.” you gestured for him to take a seat at the flour-dusted table and set a plate in front of him. on it perched a generous slice of cake, glossy with ganache, accompanied by a scarlet swoosh of what he assumed was the cherry compote. a dollop of whipped cream, flecked with black speckles, completing the overall masterpiece look.

toji quickly picked up the fork and took a bite, closing his eyes to focus on the flavors. the cake was intensely chocolate, the ganache dark and silky. tart-sweet cherries burst on his tongue, balanced by the subtle fragrance of the vanilla-specked cream.

“damn,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “fuckin’ fantastic, yn.”

you beam, looking relieved. “yeah? the cake recipe took a while to get right. i wanted something more . . . complex than a standard chocolate cake, so i used black cocoa powder to really amp up the flavor. n’ i even added a little coffee to enhance the chocolate.”

“s’ a winner,” he assured you. “i dunno’ how you could improve on it, honestly.”

“oh i have a few ideas,” your smile turned mysterious. “you haven't seen anything yet.”

over the next hour, you walked him through several variations. chocolate cake layered with cherry compote and kirsch-soaked chocolate cake crumbs, topped with cocoa whipped cream. dark chocolate and cherry bread pudding drizzled with cherry coulis. chocolate panna cotta with drunken cherries and cherry gelée . . . and toji sampled them all, humming with pleasure while you watched him anxiously. your initial nerves seemed to melt away as you lost yourself in describing the ins and outs of each dish - the technical challenges, the way certain flavors complemented or contrasted, ideas for garnishes and plating.

he found himself captivated by your intensity, the way your whole being lit up when you talked about your craft. it was more than just a job or a hobby for you . . . it was a calling. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that kind of soul-deep passion for anything. couldn’t take his eyes off the way your slender hands sketched shapes in the air, punctuating your words. delicate, clever hands that created so much beauty.

“earth to toji,” teased, waving one of those mesmerizing hands in front of his face. “did i lose you? too much of a sugar crash?”

toji blinked and refocused on your amused expression, realizing he'd been caught woolgathering like an idiot. “sorry, just slipped into a brief dessert coma. what were you saying?”

“i was asking what you think of this last one. it’s the more . . . wildcard of the bunch.” you pushed a small glass toward him. it looked like a miniature trifle, with layers of cake and cream, a vivid cherry layer in the middle, and a fan of shaved chocolate on top.

he dug in and had to suppress an absolutely obscene moan. the combination was incredible - velvety smooth, creamy, rich, and fruity, with a kick from what had to be a generous glug of kirsch. sweet but not cloying, a sophisticated twist on a classic.

“i think we have a winner,” he managed, not even caring that his voice came out husky. “if you're going for adding a 'wow' factor, this is it.”

you stand on your tippy-toes, looking hopeful. “you think? i couldn't decide if it was too out there. verrines aren't exactly traditional black forrest cake material.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s a showstopper. interesting to look at, fun to eat, n’ the flavor is phenomenal.” he scraped the glass clean with his spoon, not wanting to waste a drop.

your smile could've lit up the city block. “thank you, toji. you don't know how much it means to me, you bein’ here. lettin’ me talk your ear off and stuff you with treats. it really . . helps a lot."

“believe me, it's my pleasure,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. “i haven't had this much fun in . . i can't even remember how long. i like seein’ you in your element.”

you both just grin goofily at each other for a moment, the air feeling thicker. then you hopped up and began clearing the table, stacking dishes and bustling around the small space.

“y’know i feel bad, you feedin’ me all these goodies without me contributing anything,” toji said, rising to help. “at least lemme’ take you out for a meal that isn't 90% butter and sugar. you must be sick of cookin’, day in and day out.”

you slanted him a glance, tucking a stray curl behind one ear. “m’ not, actually. it never feels like a chore. but i . . wouldn't say no to dinner out. if you're sure you don't mind.”

mind? he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you, and here you were gift wrapping one for him. “i’d love to,” he said firmly. “s’ the least i can do. and i’d like to hear more about this final project of yours. when do you present it?”

“next month,” a shadow crossed your expressive face, there and gone in a blink. “m’ tryin’ not to think too much about it yet. one step at a time, y’know?”

he recognized that look. the flickering uncertainty, the hint of stage fright. he’d worn it himself, back before his first real fire. wanting so badly to prove himself, to show what he was made of, terrified of choking.

impulsively, he reached for your hand, halting her flitting movements. your fingers curled reflexively around his, warm and strong. “look at me . . . you got this. you’re a star, you're gonna’ impress the hell outta’ your professors.”

you swallowed hard, eyes searching his. looking for the belief you couldn't quite muster on your own. “i hope so. i want it so much, toji. this . . all of it. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

“then don't let fear hold you back,” he told you gently. “don’t doubt yourself. you have a gift, mama. i know m’ a dumb scrub who can barely tell a macaron from a macaroon, but even i can see that you were born for this shit.”

your hand squeezed his, almost painfully tight. from both the nickname rolling off his tongue so elegantly and the encouragement that you sometimes failed to receive from your closest peers. “thank you, seriously,” you whispered. “for believin’ in me, i guess. it means a lot to me . . .”

he squeezes back, thumb sweeping over your knuckles. he had a sudden, wild urge to haul your into his arms. to soothe the worry from your brow with his lips, to show you with his hands and body and breath how special you were. how much he'd come to care for you in such a short time.

but he couldn't. however strong the pull, however much he wanted to cross that line, he knew it would be a mistake. you weren’t for him, this shining woman with stardust in her eyes. and he was in no position to offer you anything real. he needed to remember that.

so he contented himself with a soft “anytime,” and released your hand, stepping back to a safer distance. “now, about that dinner. friday work for you?”

you blinked, then hitched your smile back into place. it wobbled a bit at the edges, but he pretended not to notice. “friday’s great. s’ a . . . plan.”

even through the awkwardness, the unspoken words clogging the air between you, a little thrill went through him. it’s a date, you’d almost said. and god help him, he wished it was — that’s why you settled on making plans to try the new, cozy italian restaurant that had opened downtown, the one you’d mentioned wanting to visit after a neighborhood watch meeting one night. it was intimate . . . romantic. toji walked home with a lightness in his step, an unfamiliar flutter in his gut. he was in trouble, he knew he was. you were trouble in ways he hadn't encountered before. you made him feel too much.

more than he ever had.

but he was in too deep to back out now. all he could do was try to keep a clear head, keep things casual and platonic. be your friend and supporter, nothing more. his life, his job . . there was no room for complications.

even if he was beginning to suspect it was already far too late.

the days leading up to friday passed in a blur of anticipation and nerves, though toji did his best to ignore both. ‘it isn’t a date. she’s not into you. this isnt a fuckin’ date . . .’ he reminded himself sternly, no matter how much his idiot heart wanted to pretend otherwise. just dinner between neighbors. a thank you for your tireless taste testing efforts. nothing to get all hot n’ bothered about.

so then why the fuck had he changed outfits half a dozen times before settling on the nicest button-down he owned and a new pair of dark wash jeans? why had he agonized over whether to bring flowers or wine or both . . again? this was so embarrassing. he was so embarrassing. he’d think being married once would've meant he had at least a little bit of game . . but nope - he had nothing.

taking a deep breath, he knocked on your door at precisely 7pm. when it swung open to reveal you, his lungs almost stopped in their tracks. you looked no less than stunning in a ruffled dress, in the pretty shade of baby-pink, your hair tumbling over your bare shoulders - half up, half down and bumped at the ends. a slim gold chain nestled in the hollow of your throat, shamefully drawing his eyes down to the swells of your titties.

“fuck . .” he said inanely, tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. “m’ so sorry. forgive me, i mean, you look . . absolutely amazing.”

a shy smile curved your lips, brightening your whole face up. “thanks . . so do you, toji.” your eyes skimmed over him appreciatively and he fought the urge to preen.

“o-oh, these are for you.” he thrusts the slightly wilted grocery store bouquet at you, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.

but you just smile, cradling the limp blooms like they were something so precious. “how sweet of you! i love daisies. lemme’ jus’ put these in some water and we can go.” you disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple gesture could delight you so thoroughly. damn, you were so lovely. inside and out.

the drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences. toji let you be in control of the radio, secretly charmed by your off-key humming to the cheesy pop songs in rotation on your playlist. he could imagine countless nights like this, aimless drives with no destination in mind, just content to be in your company with no one to bother.

and dinner was a laughter-filled affair, trading bites of pasta and garlicky bread, arguing playfully over the merits of various desserts. you entertained him with customer service horror stories from your barista days, confessing your penchant for ‘accidentally’ giving rude patrons decaf.

in turn, toji found himself sharing more than he usually did - funny anecdotes about his buddies at the firehouse, his worries about his little sister starting college in the fall, even a bit about his dad. the words came without effort, drawn out by your natural warmth and empathy.

he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed anyone's company so effortlessly.

when the check came, he wouldn't let you even reach for it. you rolled your eyes but allowed him to pay, primly informing him you were getting the next one. his stomach flipped at the unthinking promise of a next time.

you then lingered over coffee and dessert - the restaurant's version didn't even hold a candle to your black forest verrines, but you were too polite to say so - neither wanting the evening to end. toji watched you lick chocolate from your spoon, entranced by the tiny pink flash of your tongue. wishing he could lean in and taste the sweetness of your mouth. a pleasant shiver chased over his skin, heat simmering low in his belly. he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you - this maddening mix of tender and carnal, the urge to both protect and possess.

“mmm,” you purred appreciatively, pulling the spoon from your mouth with an obscene pop. “whoever said that chocolate isn’t better than sex clearly hadn't tasted chocolate like this.”

toji swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat. “playin’ with fire are we?” he manages to rasp, fingers clenching around his mug.

you placed the spoon delicately on your empty plate, fingers lingering just long enough to draw his attention to their graceful dance. “who says i’m playin’, handsome?” you quip.

he was so fucked. so. totally. fucked.

afterwards, he walked you to your door, hands shoved deeply n’ awkwardly into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like reaching for your hand. you then hovered on the stoop, the sultry summer night pressing in close.

“i had fun tonight,” you softly. in the light spilling from your living room window, your eyes were luminous. hopeful. “we should really do it again sometime.”

“we should,” he agreed, mouth dry. he couldn't look away from your face, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, the dark feathering of your lashes. you swayed closer, tipping your face up to his, and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. god, you were killing him.

it took every ounce of willpower to step back, to force a chuckle past the ache in his chest. “well i should let you get your beauty sleep. early start tomorrow, right?” your smile faltered, a brief tightening around your eyes hinting at disappointment. he almost caved right then, almost said to hell with his reservations and dragged you into his arms the way he'd been dying to do all night.

but he couldn't. not when he had nothing more to offer you than heartache.

“right,” you murmured. “beauty sleep. so important for . . . baking.” you fumbled for your keys, not quite meeting his gaze. “i’ll see you round’ then.” he could only watch you retreat into the house, torn between relief at the bullet dodged and an overwhelming sense of loss.

wearily, he turned to go back to his own quiet home. he’d done the right thing. the smart thing. so why did it feel so damnably hollow?

avoidance was the order of the day after that near-miss. though it pained him, toji forced himself to keep some distance, to not make up flimsy excuses to show up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. no more dessert development sessions, no matter how much he craved the sight of you gushing and twirling over your latest creations. no more cute, little dinners with furtive hand holding under the table.

he threw himself into work with even more zeal than usual, pulling extra shifts and helping out with the neverending station chores. if the guys ribbed him about his sudden devotion to alphabetizing the equipment room or polishing the engine to a blinding shine, he shrugged it off. it was loads better than going home to an empty house haunted by what-ifs.

he ached to see you though. sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of you catering to your garden or heading off to the market, and his fingers would itch with the urge to go to you, to close the seemingly unbridgeable gap between you both with long strides and strong arms. more than once he'd picked up his phone to call you, thumb hesitating over your smiling face in his contacts until he cursed and tossed the phone aside.

it was for the best, he told himself firmly. you had your whole life ahead of you - school and internships, building your dream from the ground up. he’d only get in the way, bog you down with his everlasting issues and cynicism. he wouldn't, couldn't be the dead weight holding you back.

even if letting you go felt like tearing himself in half.

he should've known you wouldn't let him slink away so easily. that for all your sweetness, you were just as stubborn as he was. you’d never been one to give up on the things - or people - you wanted.

which bring us to now . . you ambushing him on his way home from a grueling 48-hour shift, looking unfairly pretty and indignant as you marched across the street to plant yourself in front of his truck. he barely bit back a groan, exhaustion and longing a potent cocktail in his bloodstream.

“hey, stranger,” you said archly, fine brows drawn together in a scowl. “long time no annoy.”

he cut the engine and climbed out, suddenly self-conscious about his unwashed, smoke-saturated state. “hi, yn. how’s it going?”

“ah, y’know. jus’ workin’ myself to the bone, trying to perfect this dessert that's only the culmination of my entire academic career thus far. while also attempting to figure out how i mysteriously pissed off my friend to the point of complete radio silence.” your arms crossed over your chest, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes, “so yeah . . the usual.”

guilt lodged under his breastbone, sharp and corroding. he’d never meant to upset you, to make you think any of this was at all your fault. “shit, yn. i’m sorry . . i didn’t mean to ignore you, i’ve just been so -”

“busy . .” you finished for him, mouth flattening. “mhm, i’ve noticed. so busy you ignored all my calls n’ texts - missed our dinner the other night too. you’ve been practically living at the station lately.”

he grimaced, one hand scrubbing over his stubbled jaw. he’d never been any good with words, with making excuses. especially when faced with eyes that seemed to see right through his every defense, “you’re right. i’ve been avoiding you. but not because of anything you did. i jus’ . . needed some space to clear my head.”

your arms tightened, gaze dropping to the oil-stained pavement. “i thought we were having fun,” you said quietly. “gettin’ to know each other. but if i misread things, if i made you uncomfortable in any way i really am so sorr . . .”

“no.” he interrupted fiercely, taking an involuntary step closer. close enough to smell the light, citrusy scent of you, to see the faint mascara smudges of sleeplessness under your eyes. “you didn't misread anything, yn. these past weeks, spendin’ time with you . . . s’ been amazing. the most fun i’ve had in years, if i’m being honest.”

confusion clouded your expression. “then why?”

“because m’ a goddamn mess,” he bit out, the truth clawing its way up his throat. “because you’re brilliant, and you’re goin’ places . . n’ i wouldn’t be able to give you my time in the way that i know you more than deserve. i wanna smell muffins in the mornin’ . . not the smell of musty men and water hoses.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting his stuff on the hood of his car, “i jus’,” he started, “i’ve done the dating thing, alright? the marriage thing too, y’know that. i jus’ . . i cant afford to lose another person in my life that i care about — not when i’ve come this far to prevent it n’ when they’re as sweet and pretty, and as kind as you.” you stand in silence, letting him vent, “i’m not perfect. m’ terrible at cooking, i sing in the shower, n’ on top of all that i fuckin’ snore like a grizzly bear. ya’ still want me now?”

you took a step forward, hand coming up to fist in the front of his t-shirt. he inhaled sharply at the sudden press of your soft curves against his hard planes, the way your gaze dropped to his mouth.

“yeah, you grumpy old fuck . . i still want you,” you whispered fiercely. “mess, snores and all.”

he softened as you pressed a kiss onto his cheek, gentle and warm with truce, “i have my own damn baggage. y’think thats stoppin’ me from goin’ after what i want? no. so jus’ stop bein’ such an asshole n’ kiss me alread - mmph!” — that was it. that was the straw that’d broken the camel’s back. with a muttered curse, his control had finally snapped. he hauled you flush against him, one arm banding around your waist as the other hand sank into your hair, cradling the back of your head. you made a soft, needy sound and surged up on tiptoe, sealing your mouth to his.

the first touch of your lips was electric, a livewire straight to his core. they were exactly as soft and sweet as he'd imagined, moving over his with an urgency that matched his own. he angled his head to slant his mouth more firmly over your, licking at the seam of your lips as you licked on the scar on his.

he swept his tongue into your mouth, stroking over yours, swallowing the low moan that vibrated in her throat. you tasted like peppermint and the vaguest hint of sugar, an addictive flavor he already knew he'd never get enough of. your arms twined around his neck, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his nape as you pressed impossibly closer.

dimly, he registered the whoops and catcalls of a passing group of neighbors, but he couldn't bring himself to care. let em’ gawk. the whole damn neighborhood could come out to watch and he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away from your sweetness.

he was a man possessed.

the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. toji backed you up against his front door, hands roaming greedily over your curves as he pressed the hard length of his body into your soft warmth. you made yet another sound into his mouth, lifting one leg to wrap around his hip, opening yourself up to him.

he tore his lips from yours only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin from the sweat of the hot summer sun. “fuck . . i want you,” he growled against your pulse point. “wanna’ touch you, taste you, feel you. if you’ll let me . . of course.”

“wow, such a gentlemen,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “please fuckin’ do, toji.” patience fraying, he fumbled for his keys and somehow managed to get the door open without releasing you. you stumbled over the threshold, shedding clothes haphazardly between searing kisses - your flimsy blouse fluttering to the floor, followed by smoke stained his t-shirt.

toji walked you backwards down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut before tossing you onto the bed. he followed you down, covering your entire frame with his own, reveling in the feel of all your bare skin finally against him. you were a vision in the spill of afternoon light, curls fanned across his pillow, pink lace bra and panties a tantalizing contrast to your brown skin.

he took a moment just to admire you, committing every detail to memory. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted on shallow breaths. heavy-lidded eyes hazy with want and something deeper, more tender.

“been dreamin’ about you, princess. shit - you’re so gorgeous.” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe with each word, “so pretty, so beautiful, so smart.”

you shivered, fingernails raking over his shoulders, “nngh - c’mon stoppit, toji . .” growling low in his throat, he captured your lips in a nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue. large hands cupping your full titties, calloused thumbs rubbing your nipples into stiff peaks. and you arched into his touch with a moan, shameless in your pleasure.

“someone’s eager, hm?”

breaking the kiss, he began to work his way down your body, mapping every dip and curve with lips and teeth and tongue. he paid thorough attention to your titties, laving at the dark-brown nipples until you were panting and squirming beneath him.

“b-baby, please . .” you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair to urge him lower.

he only chuckled darkly against your flesh. “patience, sweetheart. m’ not goin’ anywhere. let me love you.”

true to his word, he set about exploring you - kissing a meandering path down your ribs and belly, dipping his tongue into your navel just to hear you gasp. strong hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further and further apart so he could settle more comfortably between them.

hooking his fingers in your lacy panties, he dragged the scrap of fabric down your legs. “fuck yeah, look at you. so wet for me already. look at this pussy . .”

you mewled as he licked a broad stripe up your slit, circling your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. he sealed his lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, fingers delving into your soaked entrance, curling to find that special spot inside you.

“o-ooh my god — yes!” your back bowed off the bed, a vibration spreading down your chest as he worked you higher. he paid close attention to your most tender skin, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, targeted flicks. crooking his fingers just so, he rubbed and rubbed until he found — “ah f-fuck!” your g-spot, feeling your thighs start to tremble around his head.

“thas’ it, bunny - cum on my tongue. i wanna’ see it all, mama. c’mon, i know you can do it,” the filthy words combined with the relentless stimulation quite literally pushed you over the edge . . and you came with a sharp cry, gushing your juices all over his lips and chin. he groaned at the taste of you, lapping up every last drop, addicted already.

while you were still quivering and coming down from your high, toji fumbled blindly for the nightstand drawer. he managed to retrieve a condom without taking his eyes off of you. ripping open the packet with his teeth, he sat back on his knees to quickly sheath himself.

you took the opportunity to admire his body, running appreciative hands over his muscular chest and abdomen. he was all tanned skin and chiseled muscle, a sparse trail of dark hair pointing the way to his impressive erection. it jutted from a thatch of coarse curls, thick and flushed nearly purple, the bulbous head glistening with excitement.

wrapping your fingers around his rigid length, you stroked him base to tip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke so that the condom slips right back off. toji grunted, hips bucking into your touch as you rubbed your thumb over the leaking slit. you pause, your mouth watering as you begin to lower your head down. you press the side of your face against his thigh, peering up at him with batting lashes and a poked lip. your ass is arched - high in the air and wiggling as if you just wanted him to smack it.

that’s when you began slapping his heavy dick against your cheek, repeatedly, “so big, baby,” you whisper, now positioning your face to where his cock could sit right on top of it - “can i put it in m’mouth? please . .?”

“yn you don’t have to -”

“i want to.”

toji looked down at you once more, the look of want in your eyes . . . how could he resist?

he gently grabs the side of your neck, firm but not firm enough to cause pain, his other hand curling around the base of his cock as he whispered, “open wide. tongue out,” biting his lip as he braces himself for the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him.

that’s when your wet tongue dances out tentatively, tracing the ridge of his head before retreating back to safety inside your mouth. it was clear that you were just as lust filled as him. toji could feel himself pulsing with need as you took him in deeper and deeper, a low groan escaping him, “shit, doll - got it all to fit . . good girl.” your hands gripped his hips tightly, nails digging into his skin as you bobbed your head up and down. toji swore he could fall in love with the simple, yet beautifully disgusting sound of your throat — gawk, gulp, gawk! ugh, they were such disgusting noises - some gagging here, some moaning there, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. you were slobbing, spitting, and choking on his dick and the only thing getting in your way from taking him whole was the fact that his size was still fairly new to you.

“sss’ ooh fuck - b-baby . . yn -” he hisses, both your eyes and his rolling to the back of your heads as you continue to gulp him down, spit trickling down to your tits as they jiggled to the rhythm of your mouth. each and every glide against your tongue was starting to overpower him, and before he knew it, if you didn’t stop he was bout’ to —

“cum . . m’gonna cum! m’fuckin’ cumming - asshhit . .” he groaned, eyes tightly closing as you continued to deepthroat him the best you could, “don’t stop, keep suck - y-yes . .” it was a hassle - a big one, but the taste of him warm cum painting your throat felt like a sweet reward.

almost sweeter than your baked goods.

whining and still aching to suck on him some more, toji pulls you off in fear of shaking more than he already was — and the sight of you with his cum dripping out of your mouth only did the complete opposite.

“uh, well then . . how’d i do?” you say shyly, as if you hadn’t just completely slutted out your mouth for your next door neighbor.

a surprised bark of laughter escaped him even as his cock jerked at you eagerly. “don’t exile me, but that mouth . . shit, might be better than your cookies. not gonna’ lie, sweetheart . .” toji growled, and you pout as he’s prowling back over you. you then watch him slowly, his fingers unexpectedly plunging back into your pussy as he scoops some of your wetness onto the pad of them before pulling them back out. he fists the base and tip of himself, smothering his cock in your juices as lubricant as he teases your entrance with a few pats n’ nudges. fuckin’ tease. he kept on until you were angrily swatting his chest to put the damn thing in already.

who could blame your lust? after all . . you’d been dreaming about it for weeks now.

yet again, he snags another rubber, strokes a little, and once he’s in, “oh s-shit that pussy's tight, baby . .” he’s in. you moaned in tandem, dick snuggling into your tight walls inch by excruciating inch. you were warm and wet and perfect around him, gripping him like a silken vise. it was magical, just like you - but the look on your face . . oh that look, almost seemed like you wanted to be broken. with your arms above your head, your titties swaying against your chest and your whines now hoarse n' pleading — he kinda wanted to break you too.

toji started with slow, deep strokes, mindful of your tightness and his considerable girth. he didn't want to hurt you, wanted to savor every clench and flutter around his aching cock. wanted this to last, to burn this moment into his brain forever.

“f-feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me,” he gritted out, hips rolling in a lazy figure eight that had you keening. “y’so wet, honey . . dick feel that good?”

“toji,” you whimpered brokenly, fingernails scoring down his flexing back. “more, please . . need it harder . .”

and how could he deny you anything when you begged so sweetly? bracing his weight on his forearms, he obliged, snapping his hips forward with more force. the headboard started to thump against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your writhing bodies.

“like that, baby? hm?” he panted against your throat, sweat beading at his temples as he drove into you again and again, his cock damn near slipping out of you from the slippery speed. “this what you need? me splittin' this pretty pussy open?”

“yes d-daddy . . ” you wailed, back arching like a drawn bow. your cunt was fluttering around him, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. “aah - don't stop, don’t stop, m'so close!”

“shh, i got you,” he promised, shifting the angle of his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust. “gonna’ make this pussy sing for me, gonna’ wring the cum outta’ you 'til you're shakin' on me. you want that?” his filthy words seemed to be your undoing because suddenly you were clenching down on him like a vice, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. your release gushed hot and slick around his pistoning length, drenching his groin and thighs with sweetness.

“f-fuck yeah,” toji choked out, his own rhythm faltering as your rippling walls threatened to milk him dry. “good girl, sweetheart, cream on this dick, lemme’ feel you.” he managed a handful more erratic thrusts before his own orgasm crashed into him like a freight train. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, a hoarse shout muffled into your sweat damped shoulder as he spilled himself into the condom. his cock jerked and twitched with every pulse, vision nearly whiting out with the force of it.

for long moments, you both just shook and gasped, clinging to each other as aftershocks rolled through your bodies. toji's heart was thundering so hard he was sure you could feel it through his sweat-slick chest. he'd never come so hard in his life, never felt so utterly shattered and remade.

you made a soft, satisfied sound as he carefully withdrew from your heat, rolling to the side to dispose of the condom with a quick knot. then he was gathering you close again, palm smoothing up your spine as you burrowed into him with a sigh.

“shit,” you eventually mumbled into the heated skin of his throat. “that was . . .”

“ . . fuckin' heavenly,” he finished roughly, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he felt your answering huff of amusement. “m’ sorry i uh . . came so fast. i don’t usually -”

“did you just apologize to me because my pussy is good?” you teased, dragging your nose along the edge of his stubbled jaw. he could feel the curve of your smile, the unabashed joy, and it settled something deep within him. soothed the ragged pieces he'd thought long broken.

“damn straight,” he agreed, arms tightening around you possessively. “i can die a happy man now.”

“well, you're not allowed to die on me now, toji. you're stuck with me. escape if you can.”

“mm, is that right,” he nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of you - all warm woman and satisfaction.

“mhmm. you're not getting rid of me easily. i still have so many desserts to force on you, so many early morning baking sessions to drag you into . .”

he laughed outright at that, at the sheer exuberance in your voice. “promises, promises.”

“oh i always keep my promises, mister. which reminds me . .” you pushed up on an elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. something that snatched the breath from his lungs. “i seem to remember you saying something about round two . .”

“did i? care to refresh my memory?” he growled, even as he was already rolling you beneath him again, mouth seeking yours. you then feel his palm colliding with your ass in a gentle spank. “what am i gonna’ do with you?”

“everything.” you breathed against his lips, a vow. “anything. i want you, toji. want everything with you.” and fuck, what could he say to that? what could he do but kiss you like a promise, a prayer, and proceed to show you just how much he wanted that too? wanted to give you everything, anything, all he had to offer?

he'd never been a man of many words. but this - loving you with hands and mouth and body, breaking you apart and putting you back together again and again until you were both sweat-soaked and shaking . . this he could do. this he would do for the rest of his life if you'd let him.

“you’ve got me.”

and from the joyous half-sob of his name as he sank back into your pussy, the way your body opened for him like a flower to the sun, he had a feeling you just might too.

there would be time for more words later - time for confessions and plans and mapping out a future he'd never even let himself dream of before. time to make good on promises whispered into heated skin, to build something real and lasting brick by brick. but for now, in the honeyed afternoon light with your legs wrapped around his waist and your heart in his hands . . let himself get lost. let himself drown in sensation and emotion, in this miraculous woman he didn't deserve but who'd chosen him anyway.

from lost to found, in the space of a heartbeat. and all because an angel in a garden had smiled at him across a sunny street and offered up a little piece of heaven. he'd never know what he'd done to deserve you, or this second chance. but he'd spend the rest of his days earning this gift, cherishing it.

cherishing you.

that was a promise. and like his beautiful girl . . toji fushiguro always kept his promises.

©️ SATORUBI - please do not copy, translate, or modify my work without my approval ! thank you for playing . . the challenge has only just begun.

#🎀 — www.satorubiwrites/games !#AHHHHH WE HERE #papa toji i luv him #toji x fem! reader #toji x female reader #toji x black reader #toji x black y/n #toji smut #jjk x fem! reader #jjk x poc!reader

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icypopz · 5 months ago

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bathing with them ♡

↬ request from anon ; Hiiii may I pls request the love and deepspace boys with a reader who loves taking baths with them??

↬ notes ; rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; ice active era?! jk we all know i'm lying atp HAHAHA but here's my annual post which is also my first post for LADS :> i changed the prompt a bit but i hope u enjoy !

↬ warning(s) ; tiny spoilers for rafayel's backstory, xavier's is like microscopically suggestive

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ rafayel ! ]

rafayel absolutely adores taking baths with you, even though he loves to tease you about being too clingy (he's actually the clingy one, but he'll never admit it for the world). he loves just chilling in the bathtub with you, especially on winter nights where he'll pull you closer in the hot water, complaining that "i need more warmth! protect me from the cold, miss bodyguard!"

he would get playfully annoyed when you joke about wanting to see his mermaid tail when he gets into the bathtub, scolding you about how lemurians also have powers to lure humans in and he'll be doing that to you if you don't get in the bath with him "right now!" also rafayel doesn't really like rubber ducks, he says it's weird that humans like to put toys like that in the water when they could just go swim in a lake if they wanted to see ducks. but! he does love bubble baths, he loves to put the bubbles in your hair, and when you make a beard for him with the foam, he finds it the cutest ever.

rafayel definitely has like several hundred bottles of soap, shampoo and conditioner in varying scents, claiming that their fragrance was so inspiring he just had to buy all of them. (the truth is, he wasn't sure which one you'd like so he just bought everything.) it's really helpful for when you stay over at his place though, you don't have to worry about packing a vanity case because he keeps everything ready for you, from your favourite toothpaste to a spare toothbrush. he also loves seeing you wrapped up in a towel, he thinks you look so adorable.

more content utc !

[ xavier ! ]

xavier isn't picky, he doesn't mind using either a bathtub or a shower, but after you visit him a couple of times, you definitely tell him he should use the shower instead. he always ends up falling asleep while he's soaking in the bathtub! he definitely loves showering with you though, he'll always do stuff like scrub your back or help comb through your tangled hair without you needing to ask. but it's almost impossible for both of you to bathe quickly, because you always end up getting distracted. who can you blame you though? it's not your fault xavier is so muscled from all his training!

xavier is the type who showers in freezing cold water, but he's willing to compromise if you don't like that. he ends up realising that hot water is more fun because he gets to write silly messages and draw hearts for you on the glass since it gets fogged up from the steam. also xavier's brain would totally crash the first time he showered with you, it would be that one tender night card all over again except better LOL. he's just that obsessed with you, you're the prettiest person with the best personality he's ever seen!

xavier would be one of those guys that has like the '10-IN-1! SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER, SOAP!' soap bottles. it's not that he isn't bothered about hygiene, he just finds it a lot simpler to use one single bottle for everything, and it evidently works for him since his skin is so clear and his hair is so fluffy. but ever since you've started staying over, xavier takes note of your favourite soaps and stocks up on them (especially after you tease him for that pitiful bottle of soap in his bathroom - he's the type to squeeze out every single last drop of soap from the tube so the bottle definitely looks like it has been through The Horrors).

[ zayne ! ]

zayne would usually prefer showering over bathing usually, because he's used to maximising time for work in his schedule, so he likes everything in his personal life to be extremely efficient. but once he starts dating you, that does kind of change. on days where he doesn't have to rush into work for urgent cases, or nights after a hectic day, he enjoys relaxing with you in the bathtub - it's a little slice of heaven for him to have you pressed up against him in the warm water.

zayne likes using his evol to tease you while you're showering. though he isn't usually a playful person and his humour is quite dry, the intimacy of being in such close proximity to him makes him act up a little LOL. so when you ask him to soap your back or anything like that, he'll purposely make his fingertips cold so you shiver when he touches you. "zayne!" you'll scold him, and he'll just let out a soft chuckle before doing what you actually asked him to.

zayne would just have the bare minimum essentials in his bathroom, but i also think he would be the type to buy in bulk so he only has to go out shopping once in a while. this way, when his soap runs out he can just get a new bottle from his cupboard. he likes going into his bathroom and seeing little traces of you all over the room, like your toothbrush in his cup or your favourite soap on his shelf - it makes him happy because it's like a reminder of you even when you aren't there.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

#[ my writing — ! ]#[ love & deepspace — ! ]#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love & deepspace x reader #love & deepspace #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #lads x reader #zayne x reader #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads

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vulcan-moon · 2 months ago

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Bro...inhibitor ring Amy...ur mind bro....

Seriously though, while I'm of the personal opinion that her bracelets are weights like they are in the GBA games, I ALSO am a diehard fan of chaos-user!Amy. In fact, ice been saying for years now that she IS a chaos user—she just gives her more supernatural combative abilities cutesy or simplified names as opposed to Shadow's more technical naming conventions.

Storming Heart is a derivative form of Chaos Spear, which in the games looks slower and more concussive like a bomb might be. Rose Typhoon is just a Chaos Blast supplemented by the shockwaves she generates using her hammer.

I wouldn't be surprised if the more technical terms for her Invisibility and Precognitive abilities—referring to her tarot readings, accurate intuition, etc.—were something along the lines of "Chaos Shroud" and "Chaos Divination" respectively. Then there's her pocket dimension where she keeps things like her hammer and cards, so that could just be accessing her own personal "Chaos Space". Hells, she even has a uniquely strong capacity to sense the energy of other people and things, which is what makes her such a great tracker in canon, and if the energy she's sensing is actually just the chaos energy all living things naturally possess in varying strengths and signatures, then maybe she also employs a sort of "Chaos Dowsing" technique.

Idk if you can tell, but I'm a big Amy fan lol. I usually just love all-arounder characters like her—seeing how she's faster than Tails and Knuckles but not Sonic, stronger than Sonic and Tails but not Knuckles, and smarter than Sonic and Knuckles but not Tails. Also, a sweet, peppy magical girl who's greatest traits are her passion and kindness? Sign me tf up.

Would be funny for her to ask Shadow to teach her Chaos abilities now that she knows to take off the inhibitors and for him to be all ???? "What are you talking about? You use them all the time??" lol. My shadamy shipper heart would also just love to see them grow closer over this, but that's neither here nor there

i love amyyyy i love her so much. her abilities are so wild and all over the place and the moment you think deeper abt them youre like,,,, how tf does she do what she does actually why tf does she have a pocket dimension. and you're so right abt the naming thing!!

to me it just makes sense her being a chaos energy user. all the other hedgehogs can do it, she's got abilities that are very similar to theirs, it makes sense that she channels chaos energy too. if sega weren't cowards, she'd have a super form by now 😔

also hilariously enough im in the middle of drawing a short lil follow up comic to my last one w that premise :3c sneak peek

#asks #wip #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sonic fanart #comic #chaos amy au #my art #fanart #digital art #im personally indifferent to shadamy but i do love them being close friends regardless of ship or not

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karajaynetoday · 9 months ago

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hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes

it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.

thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖

READ PART TWO HERE

READ PART THREE HERE

word count: 2.8k

Warnings: i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs.

And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either.

You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely.

You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing.

You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.

The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you.

“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?”

“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.

“Encouraging what, exactly?”

“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.”

“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.

“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity.

Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session.

“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in.

“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.”

“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”

“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?”

You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans.

You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control.

The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.

You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out.

You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack.

Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx

I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST

Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x

It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant.

The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out.

“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before.

You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied.

The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there.

Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.

The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator.

Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit.

The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished.

Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone.

“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be.

“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window.

“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.

“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called).

You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast.

“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes.

“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.

“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh.

“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”

“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?

“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended.

“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head.

Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix.

“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.” Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.

“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing.

“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands.

“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension.

Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands.

“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten.

You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.

“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.

You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.

This was safe, this was calm. This was home.

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #nhl imagine #jack hughes fanfic #nhl #my writing #quinn hughes #new jersey devils #vancouver canucks #all star weekend #jack hughes x reader

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kwanisms · 11 months ago

Text

🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 05 🎄

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➮ chef!Mingyu × fem baker!Reader wc: 6.6k summary: Mingyu and his wife, Y/N, get a little dirty while closing up the bakery the night before Christmas Eve. genres/themes/au: nothing but fluff and smut; holiday themes; non idol au, chef au, baker au, married couple au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, established relationship, mentions of stressful work conditions, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i'm back with more foodplay! It plays a much bigger role this time lol Mingyu and MC are pretty nasty, going at it in their own business kitchen. This one was so fun to write, expanding on their dynamic and how they’ve grown since meeting at camp all those years ago. Now they’re married and the banter is adorable. I love their relationship. Thank you so much for reading and if you like this part, please reblog! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (they're married but yall should use protection unless ur married too just, protect yourself lol) oral (m receiving), marking (m receiving), strength kink, size kink, bottom!Mingyu (but he's stronk boy), foodplay (frosting, whipped cream, cherries, etc), some light temperature play (ice; f receiving, m receiving), creampie (yum), dirty talk, begging kink, slight degradation (m receiving), it’s dirty, it’s filthy, they’re nasty lol

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Soft jazzy tunes floated through the air, drowned out by the chatter of customers as you headed back up to the front counter, a smile plastered on your face. Your cashier looked almost beside herself as she tried to get the terminal to work. “I’m here,” you said, drawing her attention. You could see the tears threatening to spill.

You felt your heart hurt for the poor girl. Amara was a hard worker but she’d never worked the holiday season with you at your bakery so she wasn’t prepared for the volume of orders, especially on Christmas Eve.

It was your fourth holiday season so you were falling into a practiced routine by this point. The rush, the influx of customers and orders, and of course, the Karens. Seeing as you were the owner of the establishment, you got to choose how to deal with these difficult customers as you saw fit.

The perks of being the boss.

Leaning in, you whispered in her ear. “Go into the back and take a break. I got this.” She nodded and thanked you, slipping past you and through the back door as you turned to greet the customer in front of you. “Sorry about that,” you said softly as you exited the program on the computer and rebooted it.

“It’s her first Christmas working with us,” you explained. “How can I help you?”

The man in front of you rolled his eyes and you could already tell what kind of interaction you were about to have. “Maybe this place should hire competent workers,” the man snapped angrily. You kept the smile on your face. “We do hire competent workers,” you replied. “But we’re all human and we all get overwhelmed and stressed from time to time.”

The man scoffed. “It’s unprofessional.”

The smile finally slipped from your face. “It’s unprofessional to be a human being?” you asked, a hint of confused annoyance to your voice. “It’s unprofessional to get emotional at work. It’s a place of business.” You narrowed your eyes. “And it’s childish to berate and scream and curse at an eighteen year old girl,” you snapped back, taking the man by surprise.

“How dare you speak to me like that,” he said indignantly, puffing up with an air of superiority. “I want to speak to your manager!” ‘Ah… the magic words,’ you thought to yourself, smiling inwardly. “I’m sorry, sir,” you replied. “The manager isn’t here right now.”

Mingyu cursed to himself as he walked, tripping over the curb but thankfully didn’t fall. He continued to the back passenger door of his car, opening it before leaning down to grab the paper sacks, balancing them precariously in his arms as he attempted to close the door with his hip.

Only once it clicked shut and the car beeped, signaling it locked, did Mingyu walk away, heading down the sidewalk towards the bakery. He’d gone to grab some last minute supplies as you had run out of a few spices and some extracts. He’d also grabbed the stuff to whip up a pre-Christmas Eve dinner for you and your workers.

He cursed the busy sidewalk and businesses lining the street for making him park so far away and having to walk the rest of the way to the bakery. He knew the place was busy but he didn’t realize how busy it was going to be.

Upon reaching the bakery, he swore under his breath as he realized his hands were no longer free to open the door and let himself in. Lucky for him, a patron chose that exact moment to exit, their purchases in their hands. They held the door for him, allowing him to enter the establishment. Mingyu thanked them and hurried in where the crowd seemed to have doubled in size.

As he reached the counter, he set the bags down, opening the small door before grabbing the bags and moving to the back where he set them down, looking around. He caught the eye of one of your bakers and gestured at the bags. “Could you unload these for me. I’m gonna pop up front and help Y/N,”

The baker, Geoffrey, nodded and moved over to the table as Mingyu shrugged out of his coat, hung it up, and grabbed an apron, tying it on before heading out into the store front where he saw you standing at the register, arguing with an older man who was red in the face.

Mingyu walked over, ready to launch over the counter at the man who was currently shouting at his wife.

“What’s going on here?” Mingyu asked, announcing his arrival. The man looked up from you, giving Mingyu a once over. A smile of relief spread over your face. “Perfect,” you said. “Here’s the manager,” you said, turning back to the man and stepping away from the terminal to help the next guest while Mingyu took your place.

“What seems to be the problem, sir?” Mingyu asked, knowing before the man even spoke what he would be dealing with. It was a sort of code between the two of you, calling him the manager was just a way of setting up the rude customers to realize the consequences of their actions.

Most of the time, when Mingyu entered the equation, they would demand that you be fired for being incompetent or rude or refusing to give a discount. It often led to hilarity when Mingyu, keeping up with the charade, would insist he can’t do that before revealing that you were the owner.

Which is what he was prepared to do but he didn’t have the chance when the red-faced man spoke.

“I’ve never been treated so poorly in an establishment in all my life!” he shouted, drawing the attention of most of the customers, some who were already recording the exchange on their phones. “I’m friends with the owner! I should call him and tell him what an awful bunch of employees he’s allowing to run his business.

Mingyu kept the fake smile on his face. “Oh, you know the owner?” Mingyu asked, to which the man nodded, pulling his phone out. “I’ll call him right now!” he threatened. Mingyu shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he started, picking up the phone. “I’ve got the owner on speed dial,” he added, pushing a series of buttons. He waited for the first ring before handing the phone to the man.

“It’s ringing,” he said. “You can talk to the owner yourself.” The man snatched the phone and held it to his ear, grumbling about finally getting real service. Mingyu waited by the terminal, apologizing to the customers waiting patiently behind the man.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and apologized to the customer in front of you. She was a regular so she understood that when the boss’ phone rings, the boss had to answer it. You checked the screen and saw it was the number for the store calling you. Resisting the urge to smile, you excused yourself to the customer and swiped the green button, bringing the device to your ear.

“Hello?” you asked, glancing over to where Mingyu stood, giving you a devilish smile, the irate man holding your store phone to his ear. “Yeah,” the man snapped. “I want to speak to the owner of this bakery. Where is he?” Still fighting back that smile, you responded.

“Oh, that’s me. I’m the owner!”

The man looked up from the phone, turning his head to lock eyes with you. He then pulled the phone from his ear and looked at Mingyu. “What is this? She’s the one who was rude to me!” Mingyu took the phone from the man, hanging it up. “Yeah,” Mingyu replied. “She’s the owner. If you’re going to lie about knowing the owner, at least do your research about the place you’re trying to scam,” Mingyu said, looking up at the man, his smile now gone. “Also, you’re lucky I love my wife too much to cause a scene in her establishment. So either we can start over from the top and you can be nice or you can get out and never come back,” Mingyu said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s your choice.”

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

“Thank you, come again!” you called, waving as the last of the patrons exited and you walked over to flip the sign, turning the lock on the door and turned around to look at Mingyu who was counting the drawer. You walked over with a sigh, giving Amara a smile as she started to sweep.

“Thank you for handling that customer,” Amara said softly. “He reminded me of my dad and I just couldn’t…” she trailed off. You placed a comforting hand on her back. “It’s alright, Amara,” you told her. “I don’t deal with customers like that. I give them one chance to start over and if they don’t, they don’t get served. I’m not going to let customers walk all over me or my employees.”

“Babe,” Mingyu called, making you look in his direction. “Can you take over for me? I’m gonna get started on that dinner.” You nodded, moving around to the backside of the counter and over to the terminal. “Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek and disappearing into the back.

You started counting, adding to his progress as Amara continued to sweep. She reached the counter and glanced at the door before leaning on the counter. “Miss Y/N?” she asked, making you look up with wide eyes. You hadn’t noticed she’d gotten so close. “Yes?”

“It might be a little personal but can I ask you something?” You nodded as you finished counting the drawer and shut the drawer, keeping the till in your hands. “What’s it like, being married to the nicest, most handsome guy in the world?”

You let out a laugh at her question. You weren’t laughing at her, just at the wording. “Don’t let Mingyu hear you say that,” you said softly. “It’ll fan his ego even more.” Amara smiled but waited for your answer all the same. “Being married to Mingyu is like having a massive, overly excited golden retriever but it can talk. He’s nice and always happy,” you explained.

“But he’s also clumsy, loyal, honest, and trustworthy,” you continued, shifting your weight to your other foot. “He’s a people pleaser,” you added. “Always wanting to help or be involved in some way, which is why he’s making dinner for the staff right now.” Amara’s smile widened.

“You really hit the jackpot, didn’t you?” she asked in a dreamy voice. You smiled, nodding. “I certainly did,” you replied, making your way over to the door to the back. “Taking the kitchen assistant position at summer camp when I was in culinary school was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.” Amara tilted her head. “Why’s that?” she asked.

“That’s where I met Mingyu.”

Amara went back to her sweeping while you entered the kitchen, eyes landing on your husband as he stood at the stove, a steaming saucepan on one of the back burners as he stirred something in a skillet. You tore your gaze from him, heading for the office instead to finish up your closing duties.

As you separate the cash transactions, resetting the drawer to its starting amount and putting the sales away in the safe. Shutting the door, you returned to your desk to finish up some paperwork you’d been putting off. As you were filing it away, you heard a knock on the door and looked up at one of your employees. “Hey, is it alright if I take off? My wife and the baby are waiting for me for Christmas Eve dinner and I really don’t wanna keep them waiting.” You smiled up at them.

“Sure, Candy,” you answered. “Make sure to take one of the extra pies on the counter. And tell Bethany I said hello,” you added. Candy smiled at you, thanking you as they headed back into the kitchen. You heard them call out a holiday parting to Mingyu who repeated the sentiment.

Getting up from the desk, you walked over to the door and peered into the kitchen. Mingyu was plating the finished food and looked up as you entered the kitchen. “Candy just left,” he announced, returning his gaze to his work. “I know,” you replied, walking over to where he stood.

“I told her to take one of the pies,” you added. Mingyu looked up at you before looking at the counter where the pies stood. “I hope they didn’t take the cherry one,” he pouted as he went back to his work. You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning against the counter.

“The cherry is already put away for us.” you replied, smiling when your husband looked up at you with excited eyes. He finished spooning sauce onto the food and returned the skillet to the stove. “So,” you started, looking down at the plates. There were four of them. “What have you made for us today, Chef?”

Mingyu moved back, standing in front of you, his hands landing on your hips. “I like it when you call me that,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “Makes me feel all tingly.” You pushed him back playfully. “Alright, pervert,” you replied as Amara and one of your chefs, Finn, walked into the kitchen. “Dinner is served,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Mingyu.

“Tell them what you’ve made,” you added, turning to face Amara and Finn.

They were your two youngest employees. Amara was still in high school but wanted to become a pastry chef like you and Finn. Her parents were both successful in business and from what Amara let on, they weren’t very involved in her life except financially so she had come to see you as sort of an authority figure, likening you to the older sister she never had.

Finn, on the other hand, had moved across the country, settling in this town and finding work at your bakery the year it opened. Finn’s family were back in his hometown and he could never afford to fly home to see them so you had always made sure to make it known he was welcome to spend the holidays with you and Mingyu.

“I have made for you, pan-seared duck breast with a peppercorn cream sauce and roasted garlic butter parmesan potatoes,” he announced, gesturing at the plates. “And!” he added, rushing over to the fridge, opening it and disappearing for a moment to emerge with two unopened bottles of red wine.

“Could you grab the glasses for me?” Mingyu asked and you shook your head, walking over to your office to grab four glasses. Amara looked nervously from the bottle of wine to you and back. “Am I… allowed to have wine?” she asked softly. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”

You smiled as you returned. “This one,” you said, tapping one of the bottles on the lid. “Is my favorite wine and is a non-alcoholic wine by Leitz.” You could see the relief wash over Amara’s face. “And this one is a Jacques Bourguignon,” Mingyu added, tapping the other bottle. “It does have alcohol.”

You rolled your eyes as you opened the bottle of Leitz, pouring a glass for yourself and one for Amara as Mingyu opened and poured a glass of the Bourguignon for Finn and himself. The four of you stood in the kitchen, sipping on your wines and cutting into your food.

“This is amazing!” Amara said with a sigh. “I had no idea you could cook so well!” Laughter burst out of you as you sat on the counter, nursing your glass of non-alcoholic wine. Finn doubled over, clutching his stomach in laughter as Mingyu looked slightly offended.

Amara glanced from you to Finn, confusion on her face. “What did I say?” she asked, pouting. You patted her shoulder from your spot. “Mingyu is a chef,” you answered. Amara’s eyes widened comically as she started sputtering an apology. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea! I thought he was just really good at cooking!” You stifled more laughter with a sip of your wine.

Mingyu shook his head. “It’s okay,” he replied. “I don’t really talk about it much,” he continued. “But I actually own a restaurant.” Amara’s eyes widened even more as she started apologizing again. “It’s okay!” Mingyu reassured her and you smiled fondly, watching your husband comfort the poor girl.

After eating, Finn headed out after you refused to let him do the dishes, telling him you and Mingyu had it covered. You headed back into the office to check your calendar and finish the rest of your paperwork while Mingyu and Amara worked on cleaning up the kitchen.

At about half past 7, you decided you were done with your office duties. Anything you didn’t finish today you could finish the day after Christmas. You stretched your arms, flexing your fingers before getting up and opening the door to see how Mingyu and Amara were getting on.

“Have you finished cleaning up,” you asked, peering into the kitchen to see your husband standing at the counter. He looked up, meeting your gaze. “Not yet,” Mingyu answered, lowering his gaze back down to the bowl of frosting on the counter. “I sent Amara home,” he added, glancing back up as you entered the kitchen, moving over to stand beside him and starting to collect the decorating tools.

“Her parents are hosting a party so I said we can manage,” Mingyu continued. “Hope that was okay,” he added and you nodded, looking up at him. “Of course,” you replied, looking back down as you gathered the icing bags and tips. “I don’t mind cleaning up the kitchen with my husband.”

Mingyu’s smile widened, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Besides,” you continued, dropping the tools in the hot soapy water and moving back to grab the silicone spatulas. “If she was here I couldn’t do this,” you added, swiping your finger over the spatula you just grabbed, the tip coated in white chocolate sauce. You turned to your husband, reaching up to spread the sauce on his cheek, letting out a giggle as you licked your finger clean.

Mingyu snorted, reaching a hand up to wipe up your mess but you stopped him, pulling his face to yours before licking the sweet confectionary off his skin. “Yah,” Mingyu whined as you pulled back and licked your lips. “I guess it’s a good thing I sent her home,” he continued.

“If she had seen that, I would have been very embarrassed.”

You rolled your eyes and moved to take the other silicone spatula, scooping some of the chocolate sauce on your finger. When Mingyu wasn’t paying attention, you dabbed some onto his face, smearing it near the corner of his mouth.

“Stop,” he chuckled, grabbing the spatula. “I’m gonna be all sticky.”

You snorted into a giggle as you fought your husband for dominance over the spatula. Mingyu took his chance to smear some chocolate sauce on your face, laughing when you stared at him in stunned silence. “Gotcha!” he chuckled. You pulled the spatula free and started to advance on him.

“No!” he squealed, running from you, his long legs helping him cross the kitchen quickly. You on the other hand were just fast, catching up to him and cornering him against the corner counters. “I was just returning the favor!” he whined as you wiggled your fingers, the tip of your index still covered in white chocolate.

“Here,” you said, holding out your hand. “Even the playing field.” You offered your finger with the chocolate sauce on it. Mingyu stared at the spatula in your hand, breathing a sigh of relief when you tossed it into the sink nearby. Mingyu took your hand, pulling it towards his face and sticking your finger in his mouth, cleaning the chocolate off your skin.

The action was one you’d done many times, letting him lick everything from whipped cream to cheese sauce from your finger. He was never one to turn down having your fingers in his mouth. The pent up frustration from the day pushed you to pull your hand from his mouth, grabbing the front of his smock and pulling him into a heated kiss, tasting the chocolate on his tongue.

You pulled back after a moment, your lungs burning and screaming for air. Mingyu turned your head, immediately licking off the frosting on your cheek slowly, taking his time to savor it. You let out a groan, feeling one of his hands wander down, fingers squeezing your ass.

“Your turn,” you whispered, your voice slightly hoarse as you tilted his hand and licked the frosting from his face, ending in a sloppy kiss that tasted like a mix of white and milk chocolate sauces.

“We should probably finish closing up,” you murmured as Mingyu pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah,” he replied breathlessly. “We probably should.”

Despite agreeing, neither one of you moved first until Mingyu’s hands wandered up, cupping your chest. “Or,” he offered, pulling back to look into your eyes. “We can finish off these sauces before we let the bowls soak.” You studied his face, looking into his eyes before coming to a conclusion.

“Okay,” you replied. “Go make sure the front door is locked,” you ordered.

Mingyu was off like a cannon, rushing to the storefront to make sure the door was locked, neon sign turned off before he returned to the kitchen as you were pulling out another steel bowl from the fridge and the leftover strawberries. You turned as he started to untie his apron.

“I figure we can eat some of this stuff with the leftover fruit,” you explained, showing him the bowl and the basket of strawberries. Mingyu flashed you a wide grin as you walked over to the counter and set your finds on the metal surface, moving to untie your apron.

You felt your husbands nimble fingers tug at the knots and help you remove the article. You turned, thanking him with a kiss before taking both yours and his aprons over to the hamper and tossing them in. You returned to Mingyu, hopping up onto the counter and picking up a strawberry. You dipped it into the chocolate and held it up for Mingyu.

He smirked, parting his lips and allowing you to push the chocolate covered fruit in his mouth. Mingyu dipped a piece of melon in the cream cheese frosting, holding it up for you to take it. You parted your lips slowly, keeping your gaze locked on his as you leaned forward, taking the fruit in your mouth.

You noticed the way your husband’s eye lingered on your lips, even after you pulled back with a grin.

The two of you continued to feed one another fruit and chocolate sauce. As you leaned back, holding yourself up with one of your hands, Mingyu leaned in, taking your lips in a measured kiss. Your lips parted and you felt his tongue along with chocolate sauce spill into your mouth.

“Come here,” Mingyu murmured, hands reaching up to undo the buttons on your chef smock, his lips meeting yours once more. Once he managed to undo the last button, he pushed the fabric aside, groaning as he buried his face into your chest, immediately kissing at your skin.

“This needs to come off,” he growled, pulling back just enough to undo the front closure on your bra and pull it off of you along with your smock. You groaned, back arching into his touch as you felt his mouth close around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around the bud.

You leaned back, one hand tangling in the mess of his black locks while the other supported your body. Mingyu pulled back, reaching over to grab a strawberry which he dipped in white chocolate sauce and promptly started to trail up your body from your navel. He smeared the sauce up your stomach and between your breasts, stopping to spread some over your nipple before holding the strawberry to your lips. You took it, moaning as his head ducked down to your stomach, licking up the path of the sauce.

Your thighs tightened around his waist as his tongue brushed over your nipple, taking it into his mouth to suck off the chocolate. Mingyu pulled back, moving back up to kiss you again, his hands fumbling with the ties on your pants. “What about you?” you whined. Mingyu chuckled as he pulled your pants down, thanking you when you lifted your hips to assist him.

“You’ll get your turn,” he murmured. “Lay down,” he instructed. You did as he asked, moaning as he kissed his way down your stomach, lips meeting the band of your panties. He stopped to glance up, meeting your gaze before he continued to kiss over the thin lace.

You moaned out his name, spreading your thighs wider as you felt his tongue press against you, only the black lace separating his tongue from where you wanted it the most. “F-ah! Fuck, baby,” you whimpered as you felt Mingyu leaned more into it, heat from his mouth spreading through your soaked panties.

“Just take them off, please!”

Mingyu pulled your panties down your legs, dropping them with the rest of your clothes. His head was back between your thighs quickly, tongue flicking rapidly against your clit as he held your thighs open. Your back arched off the counter, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to push his head closer.

Mingyu groaned as you tugged on his hair, the sound vibrating against your cunt and sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. “Oh shit,” you gasped, eyes rolling shut as Mingyu licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves. The slurping sounds, coupled with your mewls and his groans against your pussy filled the room. It was so lewd and almost vile. You’d have to remember to sanitize and sterilize this station before opening back up on the 27th.

Mingyu’s fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs as he held your thighs open, tongue and lips messily moving against your cunt. “So good,” you breathed out, combing your fingers through his hair. You felt one of his hands slide up your body to grope at your chest, kneading gently as he continued to suckle.

“M’close,” you warned suddenly, feeling the tension in your body build, ready to snap at any moment. Instead of pulling away and letting you fall back from the edge, Mingyu drove you over it, tongue flicking in quick motions against your clit, groaning at the taste as you came, your juices flowing out of your pulsating hole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” you groaned, fingers in Mingyu’s hair tightening as you held his head still, your hips moving of their own accord, grinding yourself on his tongue as you rode out your high. Mingyu pulled away much too soon for your liking and as you were about to protest, he pressed his lips against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth.

“Tastes so good, baby,” he groaned against your lips. “Tastes better than anything,” he murmured as he pulled back. “Y-your turn,” you stammered, trying to sit up but Mingyu held you down. “Later, angel,” he replied. “Let me just fuck you real good.”

You shook your head, pushing him back as you sat up. You made quick work of his shirt, tossing it aside as you turned your head to the chocolate sauce and dipped a piece of fruit into it, bringing it up to Mingyu’s lips before dipping a finger into the same sauce and smearing it across his chest and some down his stomach.

You slid from the counter, lowering yourself to lick the sauce from his skin. Mingyu let out a groan. You stood back up, grinning at him for a moment before grabbing the bowl of chocolate sauce and dropping to your knees. Mingyu watched as you undid the button on his jeans and pulled them down along with his underwear, almost groaning yourself as his cock sprang free.

He was fully erect, tip red and leaking as you let his pants and underwear pool at his ankles. You dipped your finger in the chocolate sauce and carefully spread it along the underside of his cock, licking your finger clean before grabbing the base of his shaft and lifting his cock.

Mingyu’s eyes fluttered shut as you licked a strip up his cock, cleaning the chocolate before swallowing. You then make sure to clean it all up before taking all of him in your mouth quickly. Your husband let out a groan, one hand moving to brace himself against the counter behind you while the other moved to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

“Fuck, that’s it baby,” he groaned, hips starting to move in tandem with the bobbing of your head. You let go of his cock, placing both hands on his thighs as you let him guide your movements. His cock hit the back of your throat, filling the room with a wet, lewd gagging sound. You pulled back, looking up at him.

Mingyu could have cum from the sight alone, you naked on your knees, looking up at him with glossy eyes, saliva starting to spill down your chin. “Fuck my face,” you gasped hoarsely. Mingyu didn’t need to hear it again, grabbing your head and guiding your lips to the tip of his cock.

He let out a moan as your head sank further, his cock gliding back into your mouth. He started slowly, giving a few measured thrusts before setting a steady pace, pumping in and out of your mouth. Each pull back, you allowed your tongue to swirl around the head of his cock until he stopped pulling out entirely. You gagged around him as he thrust into your mouth.

Your hands moved up to his hips, pulling him in as you tried to take all of his cock. “Oh fuck,” you heard him groan as the head of his cock slipped into your throat. You gagged around his cock, throat constricting as you tried to swallow. “Ah, shit!” he hissed. He pulled your head back, allowing air to fill your lungs again as his cock twitched.

Your hand moved back, fingers wrapping around him as you continued the momentum, stroking him quickly, spitting onto the head of his cock to add to the lubrication. “Fuck, fuck! Stop, baby!” He moaned, hand wrapping around your wrist. “I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop!”

You gave the head of his cock a light lick, giggling and looking up at him. Mingyu groaned at the sight and grabbed your wrist, tugging you up gently. “Up,” he ordered, helping you back up to the counter before he grabbed his cup of ice water.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, watching as he pulled the lid off and took a tip, tipping his head back. When he lowered the cup, he set it aside, leaving the lid off. In his teeth, he held an ice cube. He leaned forward, leaving open mouth kisses along your collar and chest with the ice cube gliding over your skin easily.

A chill went up your spine, nipples peaking as his mouth moved closer. You let out a gasp, feeling the icy liquid against the sensitive skin of your areolas. Mingyu swirled his tongue, allowing the melting ice cube to move around your nipple.

He pulled back, grabbing the cup and dumping more ice into his mouth. He kissed down your stomach, pushing you flat on your back as his head dipped between your thighs. You felt the ice against your clit and gasped loudly. His tongue toyed with your clit, the cold sensation contrasting with the heat radiating from between your legs.

Mingyu pulled back, swallowing down the ice. You sat up, grabbing his cup and dumped some ice into your mouth, pushing him back as you sucked on the cube. You lowered yourself, to your knees, fisting his cock before guiding the head back to your mouth.

Mingyu groaned out, pounding his hand against the metal counter as your cold mouth took more and more of his hot cock. You bobbed your head a few times, allowing the melting ice to rub along the underside of his cock.

“F-fuck,” he shivered. “Get up here,” he growled, pulling your head back and guiding you back to your feet. “On the counter.” You must not have moved fast enough for him because he turned you away, pushing you over the counter as he guided the head of his cock to your dripping entrance.

You felt him rub the tip around your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it. You felt him rub his cock against you, rutting against your ass and dragging the underside of his shaft through your folds. “M’gonna fuck you so good,” you heard him groan, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance again before taking your hips in his hands and pushing in.

You mewled, your walls stretching to accommodate the head of his cock. He stilled for a moment, panting as he tried to hold back but the way you wiggled your hips made it harder and harder and soon, he was bracing himself, fingers tightening on your waist before plunging his cock into you with one thrust.

The sudden intrusion caused you to cry out in both pain and pleasure, the ache and sting of the stretch pairing with the pleasure of feeling him filling you raw with his thick cock. “Lift this,” he urged, grabbing the back of your thigh and guiding your leg up, knee bent as he pushed your chest against the steel.

“Stay just like that,” he groaned, moving his hand back to your waist. He thrust into you, pulling back only slightly before thrusting again, setting a steady rhythm. He looked down, watching his cock sink into your cunt repeatedly, groaning at the sight of your juices already coating his shaft.

“That’s right,” he scoffed when you moaned loudly, fingers curling into a fist as you tried to brace yourself against his thrusts. “Only I fuck you this good, don’t I?” he groaned. You moaned in response, back arching as his hips started to slap against your ass.

“You like it when I stuff you full of this cock, don’t you?” he asked. You nodded, head dropping as you lost yourself in the pleasure. “Y-yes!” you gasped out. “Love it when you fuck my tight pussy with your big cock, Mingyu!”

You were stroking his ego but then again, your husband had pretty good thrust and hip game when it came to sex. He always left you feeling more than satisfied. “That’s right,” he retorted. “You’re such a little slut for me.”

Your walls clenched around him before you started to push back to meet his thrusts. The sudden action had him doubling over your back with a deep groan. “Mm, fuck!” you growled. “Oh shit. I love it when you do that,” Mingyu gasped. “Love it when you fuck yourself on my cock. Keep going, baby.”

You felt him slow his movements but you kept the momentum going, fucking yourself back on his cock, gasping and moaning as the tip nudged your cervix with each thrust. “Oh fuck, yeah,” Mingyu moaned, hands moving to the counter on either side of you, holding him up.

“Keep going,” he continued. “Fuck yourself. Use me like your own person fuck toy,” he added. “Oh god, Mingyu!” you whimpered, thighs shaking as your ass hit Mingyu’s hips with each thrust. “Call me your dirty little fuck toy,” Mingyu pleaded, his voice becoming breathless as he met your movements.

“You think you can tell me what to do?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “You’re my fucking slut,” you growled back. “Begging me to fuck your cock like some kind of whore.” Mingyu’s cock twitched, a groan escaping him. He made no attempt to move his hands, content to let you move at your own pace for now.

“Good, look at you,” you continued. “Willing to let me use that thick cock to get myself off.”

“How pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quickly. “I’ll be good,” he added. “Just keep using me.”

You scoffed, turning your head to look back forward. “I want you to fuck me,” you retorted. “I want you to fuck me hard. Make me scream. Make my legs shake. Make it so I can’t stand tomorrow.”

You felt his hands on your hips. “You sure, angel?” you heard him whisper. You nodded. “Yes,” you replied. “Fuck me, Mingyu. Fuck me hard.” Mingyu didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing your hips hard as he slammed into you from behind, a gasp ripping from your throat.

He set a relentless pace, pounding into you from behind as he drove both of you towards orgasm. “Your cock is so big, Gyu,” you moaned, cheek pressed against the cool metallic surface. “Feels so good. Feel it so deep.” “God, yes, Gyu. Please,” you whined.

“Please give it to me. Give it all to me,” you continued, his cock starting to twitch rapidly, each drag of your walls raw against his cock sending him further and further towards the edge. “F-fuck!” he gasped. “M’gonna cum, baby,” he warned. “Where you want it baby?” Mingyu asked, glancing down at you.

“Inside me. Just cum inside me, Gyu. Fill me up with your cum.”

He groaned, leaning over your back and sinking his teeth into your shoulder, sucking against your skin as his hips slammed into you, his release washing over him. Thick ropes of cum spilled inside you, painting your walls in white.

Mingyu rode out both your highs, thrusting sloppily into you as he forced his cum further into you. When his hips finally came to a halt, he let out a breathy chuckle and pushed himself up, looking down at the indentation of his teeth in your shoulder. He pulled back to see where his cock disappeared inside you, the base of it coated in his cum.

He internally winced as he pulled out, both from the sudden change and from the sight of his cum spilling out of your abused cunt. He gathered some of it with his fingers, pushing it back into you. “Keep that in there,” he said playfully as he looked down at your pussy.

“We need to finish cleaning up,” he murmured, moving to grab a clean kitchen towel and wet it before wiping your thighs and sex clean. He helped you back into your clothes before pulling his own on. You cleaned up the rest of the leftover chocolate sauce and fruit, dumping the bowls into the soapy water that was surprisingly still hot.

Mingyu washed the dishes while you cleaned and sanitized the counter you’d defiled. Once the dishes were clean and you were certain the countertop was sterilized, you returned to his side, sighing as he pulled you into his warm embrace. “Can we go now?” he asked softly, tilting your head back so he could kiss you.

You smiled against his lips, pulling back to nod and answer him. “Yes. We’re done and we can finally leave.” Mingyu’s lips spread into a wide grin. “Perfect,” he responded, taking your hand and pressing it against his growing erection. “Again?” you asked incredulously. He nodded with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I’m not done with you just yet.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #mingyu fanfiction #mingyu fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #tales from camp holiday special

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kurvinitty · 1 year ago

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wriothesley 👁️ 👁️ as your soulmate

( * ₊ 🦋◞ ˚ ) ⠀ ⪼ ⠀soulmate au drabbles. ( open )

tags. ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ 1.5k wc, reader works as an engineer, swearing lol, not proofread bc i'm eepy and going to bed now

notes. ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ listen to colors by halsey while reading this bc i think it fits rlly well !! anyway this may be ooc but do i care? no. i only care about he.

You can only see colour when your soulmate is with you and you’re touching. This gives a whole new meaning to them bringing colour to your world.

Who knew that out of all places, a prison would be where your world of grey would suddenly burst into bouts of colour?

As an engineer, you were stuck fixing & maintaining things more often than actually creating them. Your colleagues sometimes pitied you, as your already monotonous world made your job even harder. Those lucky enough to have found their soulmate are not only favoured by cupid’s bow, but also by whoever delegated your working tasks.

You wouldn’t lie — it pissed you off. Yet at the same time, you were aware that it was much safer dispatching someone who could identify a cable’s colour before installing them. However, that still did little to soothe your frustrations.

It’s also what had lead to you being stuck with more tedious tasks — maintenance and routine inspections. Despite all this, you still loved your job — and you’d be damned if your peers’ mocking pity would bring you down.

Ironically, it was due to them that you’d get what you were looking for all this time.

To beckon the call of help from the Fortress of Meropide was definitely not your field of expertise, yet you were still the one who answered. Due to the aforementioned reasons, it was also your first time setting foot on the premise. The prison’s damp walls added a chill to the already eerie atmosphere, and you now regret not taking your coat with you. The gardes were kind enough to escort you to the administrator’s office, saving you the pain of navigating this labyrinth on your own.

You flinch at the sound as the garde opens the door, holding it open for you to enter. Only now do you realise how tense you’ve been so far — the temperature undoubtedly having played its hand in it. Archons, you couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

With a thankful nod towards your escort, you step inside the room, Wriothesley already expecting you. Before you could fully enter, the man was already on his feet to receive you. Well prepared — as expected of him.

You have heard many things about the Duke, rumours both good & bad — but you’ve never had the chance to confirm them yourself. But now that you stand before him, you think you understand why everyone respected him greatly — no matter their personal opinion of him. At a glance, you could tell that an air of authority accompanied his every step, and you feel yourself subconsciously shrinking before the man.

Should he notice, he doesn’t say a word though. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he seems quite relieved when you finally arrive.

“You’re the engineer we requested, I assume?”

He speaks matter-of-factly, yet he also sounds… quite friendly? You didn’t know what to expect of the man, but you were sure it was closer to ice cold apathy, rather than the soft-spoken silk you experience now.

The first words this man had ever spoken to you, and you were already at a loss for words. Both because you didn’t know how to explain the situation, and also due to Wriothesley himself. While the first impression he made was better than expected, you were sure you’d somehow manage to piss him off in the next second. But then again, was it really your fault?

You clear your throat, fumbling over the words, before you settle on something to say. “Well, uh- yes I am.”

It’s evident how the Duke senses your hesitation and raises and eyebrow in question. Where he once looked at you in relief, his expression now falters and his eyes scrutinize you with suspicion.

Oh, you’re fucked.

Heat floods your body in embarrassment, your mind now drawing an even bigger blank as you desperately try to backtrack. “With that I mean— I am an engineer, but I doubt the work here will be within my expertise,” you sheepishly explain as the words escape your mouth in a single breath. What an absolute wonderful way to start off this interaction. “I am terribly sorry.”

You have half the mind to bow in apology, for an inconvenience that wasn’t even your fault. Doing your colleague’s dirty work was one thing, but your company being under staffed was a whole other issue.

But Wriothesley only shakes his head. Though you could swear you saw his face drop in annoyance for a split second, you felt like there was no need to worry when he next spoke. “It’s alright. I’m just glad there’ll be someone to look at it. This stuff has been giving me trouble all week already.” his hand moves up as he sweeps it over his forehead in exasperation, fingers combing through his thick dark hair. And for the Archon’s sake, you wanted to do nothing more to curse out loud when he did that. Even more so when you catch yourself examining his features more closely now, with your eyes lingering on his for a moment longer than they should. You wonder what colour his hair may be — dark, for sure — but there was only so much you could determine with a world full of grey.

You’re here to work, not to admire pretty men.

Pretty.

It took you more self-restraint than you’d like to admit to not slap yourself.

“Anyway, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet,” the man continues, thus effectively pulling you out of your self-loathing session. His hand reaches out toward you, an invitation for you to reciprocate in kind. “Wriothesley.”

Surely, you wouldn’t be able to mess up a simple handshake, right?

You waste no time to clasp your hand in his & tell him your name, your dainty digits being engulfed by the rough and calloused skin of his own. And in that moment, you felt as if time had completely stopped.

It wasn’t due to the feeling of his skin coming in contact with yours. As much as one could sing songs about how the touch of your soulmate could invigorate & keep you warm for a thousand winters to come — it wasn’t the case for you. The catalyst for sure, but the event that followed was worth your song.

The moment your hand touched Wriothesley’s, you didn’t even feel it. The only thing you felt was the feeling when your world suddenly filled with colour. All it took was the blink of an eye, and you were in a whole different world. You stare at the man before you, your mouth hanging wide open while you were freeze in shock. There was so much new information to process, but your eyes & mind could only focus on him. You can’t exactly pinpoint all the new colours you see, but the first thing you notice is his eyes.

You weren’t the only one at a loss for words, and even if you tried — you could not pry your gaze away from holding his. His eyes don’t look much different than they did before, actually. They’re naturally blessed with a light colour, but now you notice all the different shades and hues within them. Does he know what colour his own eyes are? Do you know yours? For all you know, anyone you asked could have been lying to you so far.

You also notice how his pale face now gains the slightest bit of colour, and you wonder if he sees the same with you.

Honestly? If time would allow it, you’d stay like this forever. But of course, it’s the man you’re supposed to spend eternity with that would deny your wish.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

And he acts as if nothing happened.

You, on the other hand, are still in the process of digesting this experience. Before you knew it, his grip on your hand loosened, until it completely fades away and your vision is plunged back into an array of black & white.

“Wait, I—” The words slip out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, your body almost acting on it’s own accord to wrap your hand around his wrist again. Now that you’ve gotten a taste of this — of him — you desperately want your world to burn up once again, like a new hunger that begs to be satiated. Did he not feel the same? Did you just imagine it?

It seems like Wriothesley took notice of your crestfallen expression. He doesn’t back away, yet he doesn’t come closer either. Instead, he speaks — in a tone so beautiful & soft, you can scarcely believe it’s real.

“I think we’ve got more than enough time to talk later.”

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley drabbles #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact drabble #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #( * ₊ 🦋◞ ˚ ) ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ esther's works.

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localicecreambiter · 3 months ago

Text

beware the yappening

if you saw me post this, no you didnt

I hate tumblr mobile

IF IT WASNT CLEAR BY THE SPIKE IN FOUR SWORDS CONTENT ITS BEEN ON MY MIND LATELY!!! so obviously that means the obligatory redesigns >:) I tried not to play too far into the stereotypes (not that there's anything wrong in indulging in those!!... i did throw in headcanons tho, like heightened and dulled senses... ill explain dw)

we'll start with shadow since I kinda forgot to draw him initially, lol. sorry buddy 😥 I gave him a shard of the mirror as a means of being able to exist. he can still float around and slip into the shadows and all, but he's not as powerful as he was when the mirror was full. (his ego definitely still is big though) he's not fond of chainmail despite the rest of the four and Link wearing it. his tunic mirrors what links would've looked like. any triforce motifs appearing upside-down and little swirl on his belt backward since he's from the Dark World and all that jazz. silly stuff. I kept it relatively simple since I doubt Link is very over the top, and Shadow has no sense of bodily autonomy at that point (he would so have an over the top outfit, let's be real) Obviously he gets along well with Vio, but he and Blue banter quite a bit. Sure, both mistakenly get offended sometimes but it's all in good fun! His hair looks a little more rounded here, but it's usually more flowey and sticks up every which way. unruly hair for an unruly boy. shadow loves quality time!!! what could be better than hanging out with those you love and burning down towns??? okay, void the town burning.

Red's design is also fairly simple: longer skirt, exposed chainmail, sleeved tunic, and a rounded collar. he has a rounder shape language (not that I paid too much attention to it, obviously) his hat curls up where the elemental stone is at. no one understands how it does this. Red thinks it's some knick knack he stored in there. UNNATURALLT WARM. like. concerningly warm. He's their magic user, preferring to use his magic rod over his sword (honestly, probably could wipe the floor with the other three if given a good magic item, but don't tell them that)(and yes im calling it a magic rod cuz it shoots fire and ice) Poor Red got the short end of the stick with poor hearing but great taste buds. He's a foodie at heart and it's obvious why. His hair is a lot fluffier and rounder than the other three, matching his soft and bubbly personality. Not a pant wearer. Obviously he has the magic rod and slingshot, but i also gave him the Bombos medallion since its an item in the FSA game. Green suggested they split the loot evenly. No. He's not allowed to use it. Yes, he's accidentally blown up a lot of things with it. That's why hes not allowed to use it. definitely a physical touch kinda love language guy. you know exactly why. impulsive spender. has quite a few burn scars from learning to use the fire rod. most of his tunics are a little singed, but he keeps some neat

ah, Green, the resident insomniac. usually that's Vio's role, but you cannot tell me this guy didn't get Link's terrible sleeping habits. he constatly looks sleep deprived in some compacity, but he's getting better! sure, it usually means someone has to hold him down until he sleeps but hey! better than nothing! his tunic matches most Links with the sleeved overtunic and collared undershirt. he uses he sword quite often, having the most finesse with the weapon out of the group. occasionally he'll bust out the boomerang. sort of the unofficial leader, keeping the group on track, but is always open to suggestions from the rest of the Colors. I gave him the Pegasus boots, since I'd assume they all don't get the loot they would've picked up along the way. His element is wind, so it felt the most fitting he had them. his hair is a little messy, and sure he sometimes has a stick in there, but he does his best to keep it combed. Despite his drowsiness, he's got sharp eyes (the best in the group, as a matter-of-fact!) Unfortunately, his sense of smell is lacking (but clearly he has it a lot better than Red does. I mean, seriously, id take hawkeyes over tasteaholic any day). Hes a little shit when playing Ispy; typically picking really tiny things and reveling in the fact no one can guess it. his elemental stone is attatched to his belt even though its a place it can get easily lost. somehow he has yet to lose it. the back problems arise from Link, mostly, though his isnt as bad as Vio's (maybe because hes not slouched over a desk half the time, but i digress) Typically level headed and focused, keeping the group moral high with Red (aka, keeping Vio and Blue's moral high because they tend to be more pessimistic) (well, Vio considers himself a realist and Blue is Blue)

since i dont consider Shadow that much of an idiot, Vio probably had to actually stab Green to make it look convincing. While the scar isn't big, there's once on his lower abdomen from the Four Sword. They didn't have any health potions, so they had to go back down the mountain to get him help. Green holds no resentment, knowing Vio did what had to be done to gain the enemies trust. the cheek scar is from the pyramid cuz there aint no way he got out of that unscathed fighting against Valenzuela. more of a words of affirmation guy, but enjoys quality time like the rest of them.

Vio is obviously their whittier member. honestly, if he were to be described in DnD stats, he'd have a high intelligence and a medium wisdom because man is this man stupid sometimes. he's not as outwardly arrogant as Blue, at least, not as loud with it. his clothes are usually wrinkled, being more focused on bookwork than much else (this pisses Blue off to no end, being the neat freak he is) despite this, his room is the definition of organized chaos. he knows where everything is, and if you move something, he will not be happy. also not a pant wearer, his tunic has a longer skirt than the others and his sleeves are a lot looser. his hair tends to droop into his eyes and somehow this has yet to get in the way. he prefers to pick off enemies from afar as the team's bowsman. amazing aim and a very steady hand. while he doesn't have as big of a magic reserve as Red, he can still use elemental arrows (probably in the same way as in WindWaker) strangely bad at math (simply because i find it amusing) and is pissed that Blue is good at is (again, because i find it amusing. it freaks Blue out) Vio is more of an acts of service kind of guy, but like everyone else enjoys quality time. especially when it's quiet quality time. impuslive spender, mostly on books. everyone else insists he uses the library, but he argues its different when you own the book. impecible hearing, cannot taste shit. it makes eating rations easier, but sadly cannot enjoy the nicer foods in life, so he tends to choose things based on texture. Got the brunt of the back pain, but makes it worse with how he sits and for how long he does. honestly has a weird complex where he thinks of himself as superior to the rest in a way, yet also manages to struggle to fit in and hates himself for it. not explicitly touch avoident, but hes not one to seek out physical affection often and tends to be one of the first to push Red off (other than Blue) his stone is pined to his bow holster since he tends to always have it on him, he wont lose it that way. the fact that the rest have theirs in such irresponsible spots upsets him. refuses to sleep until he's done something he considers productive.

last but not least: Blue! my favorite guy!! god what a prick, i hate him. his design is a lot more knightly with more chainmail and a brutish sort of look. he's intimidating alright, even at his 4'11 stature. look. hylians are short. his hair is spikey like his personality and his hat is more angular (mostly cuz he folds it everynight. theres permanent crease marks in it) ends up with the most scaring thanks to his irrisponsible sparing and little use of healing potions (yet despite this, he's the group medic) the nick in his ear was from some random enemy camp that he just ignored for a while. I never said he was a responsible medic when it came to himself. hes mean, sure, but hes trying. just a little blunt. okay, very blunt. very blunt and very angry. hear me out: mom friend. if that mom was divorced and had anger issues. he knows the others are fully capible of handling themselves, cuz if he survives, why shouldn't they? despite that, he still worries. I know that it says his left eye is blind, but he can still see some color, its just reaaal blurry. does anyone know that? only red. will he tell anyone else? not unless he has to. does he run into shit when hes not paying attention. sometimes, yeah. to top it off, he - like red - got the short stick with shit vision but a heightened sense of smell. he can smell a monster camp from up to a mile away. impressive, right? dont tell him that. this boy has a lot of injury issues, being as reckless as he is. the knee injury was from a particularly nasty moblin (possibly the same as where the eye scar came from. who knows? he wont tell) and got worse as it got ignored. look, when you're the medic, you gotta make sure everyone else is okay before you. at least, thats how Blue sees it. not to even mention the nerve damage from being frozen for god knows how long. I don't know about you, but (assuming it was a Wizrobe) being magically frozen has its side effects. so what hes a walking icepack (exaggerating, but he's cold enough outwardly that you can feel it) and so what his hair grows in a few shades lighter than everyone elses? they don't gotta know why or when or how or even that it happens. the hair dye is stashed under his bed and he will die if anyone finds out. it reeeally fucked with his magic, seeing as hes associated with the water element.. do green and vio know about any of this? nope. red was sworn (read: threatened) to silence. probably the most physically fit when split, and makes sure to take good care of his body. he likes to push himself, hence the ankle weights. always has to be doing something productive. hes their financial guy, somehow having the least impuslive spending habits. will typically only spend on necessary things. gets mad at the others for buying egregiously expensive recreational shit. (that umbrella shadow has? yeah. expensive as hell. he was not happy) the most touch avoident of the bunch. unexpectedly, blue is a gift giving guy. he gets embarassed about it when you question it, or even when hes giving it to you, but yeah. he likes giving things to people and then will throw insults at their face. not in a mean way. in a "im embarassed and you suck so shut up" way. quality time is something he enjoys as well, liking to spar with his brothers often. can easily master a lot of melee weapons, its impressive, but cannot for the life of him make anything else work. his stone was made into an earring, and despite vio's complaints, he usually knows when its missing.

#the legend of zelda #my art #loz #four swords manga #red link #vio link #green link #blue link #shadow link #fsa #return of the nerd book #ref sheet #tldr i yap #chat thoughts on he/she blue #Four Swords #Four Swords Adventure

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