#carrot bouquet

[asktidethegastrodon]

Carrot shuffles inside Tide's purse with mild discomfort Carrot: A-as Miss Tide m-mentioned... Ninsar was considered a BloodThirsty Monster.... B-but that was by design... Carrot: Ninsar was... a p-powerful beast but.. w-what most don't know is.. they were created by Giratina! Carrot: A-As a gift! For another legendary... Giratina was.. t-trying to impress another legendary by creating... a uh.. "living bouquet of their gratitude" towards the other legend.... Carrot: B-but... The other legendary.. didn't entirely feel the s-same back... s-so... um... Carrot shuffles his paws nervously, almost as if he was worried of someone overhearing what he was saying Carrot: S-so... Giratina... h-he... he got angry... and turned... his gift of gratitude... into... Carrot: ........ Carrot: .......... a monster ............. Carrot remains silent, staring down at his own paws as if he was ashamed. His tongue poking against his own teeth anxiously Tide glances down at the small dog in her purse, she was staying out of the conversation to give Carrot some time to speak, but his behavior made the gastrodon speak up Tide: BUT. Despite this, Ninsar fought against their monstrous qualities. They learned to tame themselves and sought out their true purpose. Tide: They realized that their monstrous qualities were forced upon them and not a reflection of who they truly were. In the end, they were very loved and cherished for all the joy they brought. Despite Giratina's influence, Ninsar was able to become a very appreciated and loved mythical. Tide looks down at the shaymin with a soft smile Tide: And even to this day, their descendants are still very loved and cherished... not at all seen like monsters... Isn't that right?

The gastrodon's words seem to perk up the purse shaymin, causing Carrot to look up at her with a small smile. Tide smiles back and gently rubs the back of one of Carrot's ears, causing the shaymin to lean in softly into her palm

Carrot mutters softly once more Carrot: I... d-don't enjoy... w-what I am... I wish.. I c-could do my job without this.. There is no real p-purpose to it other than... it b-being a curse thrust upon m-my kind..

Carrot: I envy... o-other shaymin who c-come to this universe... it must... be nice... t-to not... be this way.... -- -- -- -- [ @curce ]

[aturnoftheearth]

WE HAVE CELERYYYYYYYYY

[mariacollection]

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

i yanked up the rest of my carrots today.

[ediblegardenspointloma]

In My San Diego Garden and Kitchen

Apricot season is underway and we’ve harvested about 15 pounds which my husband/orchard tender says is a small portion of the crop. Last year the three trees produced 120 pounds, though one less productive tree died and was removed. We replaced it with a similar early variety in the “threesome” planting as seen in Backyard Orchard Culture. We’ll see what the season holds. I foresee an apricot cobbler this week and more apricot sauce.

And once again the happy garden coincidence of rhubarb and Dorsett Golden apples. I made a sauce with the above and after cooling added a few tablespoons of orange juice and a pinch of orange zest. The three fruits coalesce for a balanced, flavorful sauce.

Berries bring delight every day. The blueberries live up to their name, Bountiful.

When the cauliflower finished, I planted tricolor carrots in February. Winter rains and longer days were to good effect.

Easter Egg II radishes grew much better in the late winter and spring succession plantings. They were more successful than the fall planting. Perhaps, the soil dries with inattention in October and November as we wait for rains.

The last of the small lettuces made their way to the fridge. Thankfully this variety stores well so we’ll have salads for a few weeks. I need to tuck some lettuce starts around the newly planted tomatoes.

A simple lunch with garden lettuce, carrots, radishes and Greek yogurt with apricot sauce.

The spinach leaves enlarge but are still tender and we steam them several nights a week for dinner. Bunnies get a suitable bag of mixed greens—critter worthy arugula, kale, lettuce and spinach.

After a time of working in the. perennial gardens I grabbed what I refer to as incidental bouquets. Here Ambridge roses (David Austin) and pincushion flowers (scabiosa).

Check the What I’m Planting Now page as I transition to summer in the garden. Then head to Harvest Monday, hosted by Dave at Happy Acres Blog and see what garden bloggers around the world harvested last week.

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[mortalityplays]

talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.

I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.

I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?

This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.

At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.

EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.

Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.

When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.

prezzemolo

I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.

[julietcpulet]

so another thing that would’ve been great to include for the show was the horse jokes, like I get why they’re not there, Guildford hating it and all but in the book he actually enjoys being a horse when he is one just doesn’t like that he can’t control it and others feelings about it etc. and the banter between him and Jane is so hilarious…for example:

“I believe this is an opportune time to set some ground rules for this marriage.”

“Like what? Hay preferences.”

—-

“I would never chew on your books.”

“You ate my bridal bouquet.”

He looked suprised as though he’d forgotten. Then he nodded. “So I did. Continue.”

—-

“Are you sure your true Ethian form isn’t a jackass?”

“Very funny, my lady. And that reminds me” - he pointed a finger at her - “no horse jokes.”

He was making it too easy. “Ah, my lord, why the long face.”

—-

“No horse jokes,” he said.

“My lord, I apologize for the horse joke. If you put down the book - unharmed! - I will give you a carrot.”

He brandished the book at her. “Was that a horse joke?”

“Neigh.”

“Was that a horse joke?”

—-

This is all in the span of a couple pages. These two could’ve so pulled those jokes off and it would’ve been a riot 😂

[daycourtofficial]

In a world of boys, he’s a ✨gentleman✨

Summary: based on this request - your friends help walk you through all the nice things Azriel does for you

Author’s note: I forgot all about this tbh lmao why was this just sitting in my drafts all alone

“I think Azriel has the best manners,” Feyre says, her cheeks glowing from the wine, wisps of brown hair coming out from her braid.

“And the biggest wingspan,” Mor adds, raising her blonde eyebrows.

“I’m serious,” Feyre turns to Mor, “he’s so polite, he cleans up after himself, he treats (y/n) like a queen, he-“

You choke on your wine. “Treats who like what?”

Mor slaps your shoulder, causing you to almost spill your glass. “Oh, do not start this again, I will scream.”

“Start what?”

Mor rolls her eyes, falling back on the couch, “pretending like you don’t know how nice Azriel is to you.”

Your face heats involuntarily. “He’s very nice to me, I’m well aware of that. He’s a nice guy.”

Mor groans, getting up for more wine, “see! This is what I’m talking about!”

Nesta and Feyre giggle, but you sit up, “what do you mean what you’re talking about? What is wrong with me thinking that he’s nice to me?”

Feyre’s giggles continue, “it’s not that, sweetie. It’s just… he’s exceptionally nice to you.”

“So? We’re friends.”

Mor chimes in, “if any male was as nice to Nesta as Azriel is to you, Cassian would slit his throat.”

“Cassian’s more of a hands-on brute, but I see your point,” Nesta corrects.

“Friends don’t act like the two of you do,” Feyre muses, refilling her wine glass.

Soft touches, sitting needlessly close to each other at gatherings, Feyre catching the two of you napping on her couch on multiple occasions.

“He always blushes around you,” Elain observes.

Images of Azriel’s reddened cheeks and ears flood your memory, and how adorable you’d find it.

“He always asks you if it’s okay for him to pick you up to fly.”

A montage of soft “may I?” and “is this okay?” flutter through your mind. His soft touches of your hair when you’d take off, knowing it was your least favorite part, trying to comfort you in some way.

“He pulls out your chair for you at every family dinner.”

“-and plates her food!”

Azriel’s scarred hands grab the back of your chair, a soft scraping noise filling your ears, replaced by your soft “thank you”.

He sits next to you, grabbing your plate reflexively, piling it with roast, carrots, and potatoes, knowing to avoid the celery.

You thank him again, oblivious to Cassian’s exasperated arm movements at the two of you, as well as Nesta’s immediate swatting of him.

Elain giggles, “he always comes by every Sunday asking me to help him arrange a bouquet for her.”

Nesta smirks as the other two females let out soft “ooooh”s, as if you all were gossipy teenagers. Maybe you were. Your eyes draw towards the bouquet sitting on the table in front of Elain, the pink and yellow hues making you smile.

“He always has a hand on you whenever you’re out in town.”

The warmth from his hand is a welcome presence on your lower back as you two push through the crowds of the Velaris stalls. You prefer going out into town with him in tow - he was much taller than you and could see over the crowds.

Not to mention how he carried all of your bags and you spent the rest of the day catching his scent on your clothes afterwards.

“I’m not even sure you own your own coat from him lending you his.”

Nights out at Rita’s always ended with the two of you walking along the Sidra, his arm around your shoulder. He’d always wait for you to start shivering before placing his coat around your shoulders, helping your arms into the sleeves.

You scratch at your neck, uncomfortable with all the attention on you. “That doesn’t mean anything… right?”

Mor huffs, dramatically falling back on the couch after draining her glass, “I can’t explain this again.”

“Ask him out,” Feyre says, while Nesta nods her head, “just do it.”

As if the Mother herself were in the room gossiping with you all, Azriel strolls into the room, a bit shocked when five pairs of eyes peer back at him, amusement in four pairs, adoration in one pair.

You can’t help the smile that graces your face when you see him, and Nesta loudly placing her cup on the table jolts you out of your trance.

“Will you- would you,” you clear your throat, rushing the words out before you get too scared, turned in your seat to peer at him, “would you like to have dinner? Tonight? With me? Alone?”

Mor and Feyre are trying, but failing, to hold in their giggles at your nervousness, but you have completely forgotten they were in the room with you.

Azriel’s lips curve into a smile, “I would love to. I can pick you up at 7?”

[jiminiecrickets]

MILK & TWO SUGARS. KTH / M!READER

summary. despite being your subordinate, taehyung relishes in his power over you.

wc. 4.9k

tags. boss/assistant au, dom top!reader, bottom!tae, tae films himself to tease you, oral (r. receiving), office/desk sex, unprotected sex, officemates-with-benefits (sort of)

[ requested ]

the train carriage rocks and rumbles, steel and electricity burning beneath your feet. you hover beside the moving join between carriages, counting down the number of stops until it reaches yours. aside from the not-so-inconspicuous journalist snapping pictures of you across the carriage, it has been a fairly smooth ride.

he's wearing a cap, staring down at the flip-out screen of his dslr, pointed just right in your direction. he's far enough away that the photos probably don't seem that creepy – not i-pretended-to-bump-into-you-for-this-picture creepy, at least – and he's not holding the camera low enough to angle your crotch as the focal point, which is more than you can say for some other journalists. sure, you may have had a wild youth, but you were square now – just a guy in a suit on his phone with a messenger bag strapped across your chest. the most interesting thing about you was the fact that a bouquet of purple and yellow flowers stuck out one end of your bag.

for all the other commuters knew, you were heading home to kiss your wife and your two-and-a-half kids. you would like to keep it that way, isolating yourself with earbuds playing a rotation of your favourite songs.

on your phone, your insanely efficient and ridiculously beautiful personal assistant has just stopped using capital letters and proper punctuation.

seriously where are you? your coffee's going cold :(

you huff. you told him to wait a while longer before grabbing it since you needed to stop by the florist, but he had always been strict about your schedule. if it wasn't on the document, it didn't exist.

a couple more stops to go, you reply, glancing out the windows to ensure you're not getting his hopes up. nine minutes.

can't you get here any faster?

no, taehyung. it's always going to be nine minutes.

despite his profile picture only being his initials – KT, matching at least four other people in your phone – he manages to inject a whole lot of personality into his next message.

then don't walk, desk jockey. what can i do to make you gallop? the bubble of three dots pops up. perhaps i can tempt you over with a carrot?

please stop it with the horse metaphors.

but you're the only one i wanna ride <3

you nearly choke on your saliva, hastily pressing your phone screen to your chest for privacy. you steel your nerves when your phone vibrates again, chasing away the heat crawling rapidly up your neck. you take a deep breath and glance down.

a video. you tap the play button and the window expands to take up your screen.

the first thing you notice is that taehyung's not wearing any pants. he's wearing everything but pants, and you even see a flash of his playful smirk as he tightens his tie when he glances down. he smooths it down, down his stomach, and leans back in a chair.

your chair.

holy shit. he's in your office.

he tucks one foot up onto the edge of your desk, polished pointed shoe pivoting as he makes himself comfortable. he rests on the point of his elbow, cradling his jaw with long slim fingers.

he wraps his slender fingers around his cock, revealing it from beneath the bottom of his crisp white dress shirt. only the bottom sliver of his face is visible, soft and shapely pink lips playing at innocence, tucked teasingly between his front teeth.

your music doesn't provide a buffer anymore. on instinct, you darken your screen and slam the mute button, thumb working at the phone's volume button in excess.

but, because you have terrible vices, you slowly edge the volume back up until his soft, breathy moans rattle in your skull like a marble inside a can of spray paint.

"hey, boss," he whispers, fingers rolling over his reddened tip, cock dark pink and shining in his grip. he plays at formality, straightening his jacket lapel with his free hand. his hand drops down to cup his bare thigh, golden and soft, and slides gently over his skin, back and forth – caressing himself the same way you do. he exhales softly, back arching. the chair's leather shifts audibly. "come grab your coffee, already. aren't you thirsty? i sure am."

dropping his leg, he pushes his shirt up around his chest, and lifts his phone above him with a sound between a hum and a moan. taehyung twists in your black leather chair, its tall slim shape highlighting the way he angles his hips to accentuate his waist and hips and the way his soft thighs fill up the seat of the chair.

you close your eyes for a steadying breath, shifting on the spot as the train pulls up to your station. thank goodness you had the epiphany to wear a dark suit today. it'd be a particularly awkward gossip piece for that journalist – yes, still there – if you'd worn something lighter.

"i'll be waiting, big boy," he coos directly into your ears, the breathiness in his voice and the flush to his cheeks letting you know just how long he's been in your chair.

he's going to be the death of you.

you weave your way through the station, hurrying down the stairs with your phone in a death grip, screen off. it pings when the pedestrian crossing lights turn green and your mouth goes dry at the sight of another video, described only by date and file type. you struggle to swallow.

on his knees, lovely round ass presented to the camera, taehyung pumps three fingers in and out of his slick hole, the shine of lube dripping down his thigh. his moans are quick and muffled by the palm over his mouth, his cheeks glowing pink with desire, and his hips jerk as he pulls his knees close together. his cock presses firmly along the seam of the back of his thighs.

hissing softly, he pulls his fingers out with a slick pop, lubricated until the knuckle. he glides his fingertips around his hole, showing himself off with a soft giggle, and rocks back on them until his cock twitches. it leaks as he fucks himself with them.

"ah...! get down here, already – my fingers aren't as thick as yours, baby. m-maybe i could still come on them, though," he moans slyly, the quick slick sound of his pumping fingers jolting shivers down your spine. "gonna fucking come on myself, come on your desk – every time you enter this office, you're gonna remember the way i made you feel." 

he moans with a toss of his head as his hand quickens. his leaking cock pulses and he bounces slightly on his fingers, that little bit of friction from his cock bumping his thighs almost enough.

"what is it... that you said?" he grins back at the camera, dark eyes smoky and devious. "only angels have bodies like mine? well... white was always heaven's colour."

his lips part as his dark brow furrows, his grip tightening on the back of the chair as his hips tremble. his cock explodes with cum, spurting out in thick white ropes that splatter the backs of his thighs like the sweetest glaze. he spreads his jerking, trembling thighs, and his release slowly pools on the black leather between his knees. he pants softly, wordless.

in the silence of your earbuds, your head rings with the anticipation of your pounding heart, nearly sprinting the half-block down to the skyscraper with your last name printed on it. you push through the large glass doors carelessly – they're shatterproof, and they'll survive you shouldering your way through them.

on your phone, taehyung lets out a soft exhale that sinks claws into your brain. glossy white beads drip from the edge of your chair between his unblemished legs, and if that's not a scene of the divine, then you don't know what is.

shit. hastily, you pass the receptionists and slip into an empty elevator someone left behind. swiping your card, you punch the button for the highest floor, and survive the agonising seconds up, dumping your earbuds and phone unceremoniously into your bag.

the elevator dings, and you're shoving yourself through the tiniest gap the moment it appears with a problem in your pants and a problem at your desk.

lazily, taehyung grins, pink tongue swiping over his lips. one hand strokes his pretty cock under the desk, the motion of his arm perfectly clear.

"hey there, big boy," he purrs. "finally here for your coffee, right?"

you grunt noncommittedly, extracting the bouquet of flowers from your bag before dumping the bag on the loveseat by the elevator. you place it in a white vase and wiggle it back into place on the cute pigeonhole shelf.

you turn back to him, and he's standing now, leaning forward over your desk with that same silky smile. "done with playing uncaring? come over here, make me sorry. i've broken your rules, haven't i, boss?"

"you're a real piece of work," you growl, stalking towards him and yanking him away from your desk to survey the damage. time to put in a request for a new chair. you return your gaze to taehyung, who just smiles demurely at you and strokes the bulge in your trousers.

"a piece of art, don't you like telling me?" he teases, nudging your cock with his knuckles. his smile widens as your breath skips like a record player. he pushes you towards the end of your oak desk. "you liked my presents, did you?"

"presents? that was torture," you rumble, placing your hand on top of his head and fisting a handful of his hair. you tug firmly backwards and his eyes roll back briefly as he moans, hands faltering for just a moment as he fiddles with your fly – you smirk at the sight.

his lashes flutter as he regains control, pupils dilating as he gazes up at you from between your thighs. "but you liked them, right, sir?" he asks softly, almost nervously. he fishes your cock out and his breath hitches, his lower lip tugged between his teeth as he stares up at it.

"is the sky blue, dove?" you ask, softening your voice just for him. he melts like chocolate, pressing himself sweetly into you, and you let go of his hair to card it back from his large dark eyes, tucking the stray strands behind his ears. "but i won't say it didn't surprise me. i was on the train."

"your fault when you have a perfectly good car in the garage, sir," he says with a hum, and he kisses the base of your cock. he lifts your hand back to his hair and you guide his head towards the head of your shaft. with a soft moan, he's all yours again to eat and enjoy, those dark brown eyes almost gold in the late afternoon sun.

"i'll let that sass slide because you're usually such a sweet boy," you say softly, humming as he drags his warm tongue over the ridge of your tip. "good. suck."

he loves the way you talk to him with that voice – a voice like chocolate, sweet and thick and dark. he bobs his head, stroking what he can't fit, and he moans when you hit the back of his throat, filling his mouth and stretching his jaw wide. he works at your cock, tongue lapping at the veins, tracing them to your tip and back, and closes his lips around your shaft, gradually getting all of it down his throat.

he clasps your thighs, letting himself enjoy the heft and heat of your cock filling his throat, and his eyes slide closed, the tip of his nose brushing your pelvis. you exhale softly and pat his hair to watch it bounce back into place, tugging the loose beach curls between two fingers and letting them spring back. it's incredibly soft and silky for someone who's dyed his entire head honey blond for at least as long as he's been working for you.

you cup his cheek as he bobs his head, warm tight throat swallowing your cock, constantly squeezing and fluttering, and your hand shifts to his chin, fingers pressed against the bend of his throat where it meets his jaw. gliding your fingers lower, you can feel your cock sliding against the walls of his throat. when he pulls back until just the heavy tip rests on his tongue, you feel with reverence the way he swallows it down, following the movement of the tip of your cock with each finger it passes.

below, you watch in amusement as he jerks himself off, motions quick and shallow but involving the motion of his whole arm from the shoulder. he moans as he swallows your cock, and your head falls back as your cock throbs from the tight vibrations.

"fuck, taehyung, good boy," you groan, listening to him choke and gag on it as if he couldn't get enough. saliva coats your dick, and it drips down his chin. his parted lips allow him to moan and when he closes his lips around it, he redefines the word 'suck'.

his cheeks hollow, his eyes roll back, and he's so warm and wet around you that your control snaps and you yank his head forward, burying your cock deep in him. he whimpers so perfectly when he feels your cum sliding down his throat, swallowing rapidly. his lashes flutter as he pushes himself deeper and his lips press against your base, making you grunt sharply, fingers tightening in his hair.

even when your grip loosens, your uneven breaths steadying, taehyung keeps you in his mouth, feeling his own hot cum drip down his twitching cock. he doesn't stroke himself, doesn't pull away – just contents himself during the aftermath of his high with keeping his mouth full, blinking slowly like a cat at the hazy middle-distance.

you have to slide him off your cock and he protests, whimpering softly as his nails dig into your thigh. you wrap a hand around yourself, pumping it slowly, and taehyung stares on yearningly, licking his lips subconsciously when a bead of cum slides down your tip.

"do i need to look at what you've done," you ask, though your voice remains steady at the end like a statement. "pretty thing, we are in my office. that means no messes."

"doesn't feel as good as when you're in me," he rasps, leaning up and kissing the base of your cock. "please, baby? promise i'll clean up later."

"you can't always get your way through flattery," you chuckle as he stands, tilting and falling against you as if he belongs there, wrapped in your arms. one hand travels further down and cups his ass, squeezing the supple warmth of it. he moans airily.

"it's worked so far," he whispers. "go sit down, big boy. gonna ride you like you deserve."

"what, you're going to tease this gorgeous little ass and i'm not allowed to have a taste?" you tease, and taehyung grins, pressing chest-to-chest with you. "you're a cruel man."

he smiles, still panting softly, and presses his lips to the line of your jaw. "maybe later," he murmurs. "will you clean me up and take care of me afterwards?"

"depends on my mood, pretty," you hum, guided over to your seat and watching as he sets himself atop your lap. you squeeze his thighs, sitting up against his back.

"you're a chivalrous man, boss. you wouldn't force me to walk home with your cum dripping down my leg," he chuckles, placing his ass over your cock and grinding against it. he grips the armrest and turns his head over his shoulder to kiss you, the other hand coming up to grip your hair. "mm – fuck me already. wanna feel your cock fill me up like a whore – been waiting for ages to get you alone for this."

"you could always call me outside of work, you know?"

"but where's the fun in that?" he teases, and sinks down on your cock with a breathy relieved moan that makes you shiver.

holy fuck. he's so damn warm, so wet. for a moment your thoughts fizzle out into pleasant static shooting down your spine and out to your fingers and toes. just being with him, close to him, enveloped by his faint blue cologne, makes heaven an afterthought.

when you come to and open your eyes – despite not remembering closing them – you are met with taehyung's soft smoky gaze, his warm palm cupping your cheek. he smiles, breathless, as he leans in, closing his eyes and pressing your foreheads together. "you're handsome when you come."

after taking a moment to gather yourself, you frown slightly, shifting your hands higher on his thighs. no, you are most certainly still hard. "wishful thinking, much?"

"no, that was better than watching you come." he nuzzles into your cheek and jaw, then presses your foreheads together again with a soft roll of his hips. the action has you gasping and he slots his mouth against yours, taking advantage of the moment of weakness to slip his tongue between your teeth.

knowing he, your quiet, pretty little secretary, is the one to bring you down from your pedestal, fills him with insurmountable pride. smugness, too – a healthy dose of it. after all, the media made you into the country's most eligible bachelor, and still here you were, leaning into his touch like a soft college boyfriend. you've spent every waking moment since you turned eighteen having columnists nipping at your heels and biting into your clothes, your friends, your love life, and anything else they can twist into drama or some moral fault with you. he knows how high your walls are because of it and the fact that you decided to give him a chance, to let him help you, despite looking like every one of the scandalmongers who've ever hurt you, makes him proud.

you'd never truly lost that pureness about you, that faith in people's goodness that most lose the first time they're betrayed by those they love. that is a very hard thing to do when so many close to you have had some dark immortal want to leech out of you.

taehyung's getting ahead of himself. he can start thinking such things when you start calling him your boyfriend.

"i missed you," he whispers, breath hitching as the ridge of your cockhead catches on his rim. he reaches behind himself, guiding himself onto your dick, and his fingernails dig into your shoulder as he throws his head back with a breathless moan.

"yeah?" you murmur, because you can't ever stay upset at taehyung. "it's only been a few hours. fuck. mm – couldn't have known. maybe you should've sent me a few more videos of yourself."

he tries to gasp in offence, but it comes out too breathy, too pleased. he bounces on your lap with his creamy thighs bracketing yours. "pig. why do you want videos when you have the real thing right in front of you?"

"so i can remember you on lonely nights in foreign hotel rooms."

he scoffs, chuckling softly as he circles his hips, making you groan and tighten your grip on him. he cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. "give me a promotion, big boy. then your nights won't have to be so lonely."

"you and your silver tongue," you murmur, placing your hands on the curve of his ass, the tiny dip of flesh at the base of his spine. he arches into your touch with a soft sigh, clenching around you and enveloping you in his velvety heat.

"mhm. you know what my tongue can do," he teases, content to fill himself up with you and do nothing else for the rest of the day. he could sit here, pretty as a princess, for the rest of his life and he'd have no qualms about it.

you, however, have different ideas.

you hook your arms under his thighs and rise to your feet, swiping pens and papers clear of your desk and onto the floor with a clatter – he laughs – and you set him down on your desk, kissing his jaw and neck. you nip at his earlobe and he growls in warning playfully, yanking your hair to bring your throat closer to him. he sucks a hickey onto the sensitive skin, the sting giving way to pleasure far too easily.

he spreads his knees and leans back, grabbing your cock with one hand and bracing against the desk with the other, and slips you back inside him with a long moan of bliss. "y-you're so big..."

"don't stroke my ego," you chuckle, stroking his soft, smooth hips and thighs as you thrust hilt-deep into him, easier now that he's adjusted. "god knows it's big enough as it is."

"of course i have to. you're the – the top man." his breath hitches as your cock glides against his swollen prostate, dragging against it roughly with how tightly he's stretched around you. he swears he can follow the line of the veins when it rides against his gummy walls with a harsh thrust. "oh, fuck! baby!"

"that feel good, hm?" you murmur into his ear, the sweet decadence of it rolling over his brain like waves over the shore.

"yes," he moans, eyes rolling back as you press into him, a single shift of the angle of your hips enough to make his back arch and his mouth fall open. "yes, yes! ah, f-fuck, right there – right there, harder, don't stop..."

you know his body like the back of your hand. gripping his thighs until they dimple under your fingertips, you pull out until just the tip rests against his hole. with a snap of your hips, you bury yourself deep in his warmth, making him jerk and cry out. his cock spurts prematurely and he gnaws on his lower lip, squeezing his eyes shut to will down his budding high. his nails dig into your shoulders.

"i told you," he pants, glistening eyes raising to meet yours. "harder."

what your secretary wants, he gets.

your cock slams directly into his prostate and he gasps, whimpering softly as you set a quick, hungry pace. still unsatisfied, you push your mouth against his, tongue dipping between his lips to taste his coffee.

milk, two sugars.

he always had a sweet tooth.

his damp hair sticks to his temples, the perfect salon waves bouncing rapidly with each smack of your hips against his ass. he moans into your mouth as his cock jerks, swollen and heavy against his slim stomach. it bounces with each powerful thrust and he cries out, the sweet sound echoing in your office for anyone to hear.

he whines softly, a softer sound than he'd ever let anyone else hear. he claws at your shoulders and sides, panting against your lips and submitting to your demanding kisses with messy clouded lust. the slap of skin on skin only arouses him further and he grabs your tie in a white-knuckled grip, tugging your mouth down against his the moment it parts for air.

"close," he whimpers into the kiss, and his eyes flutter back into his skull as your cock punches the breath out of his lungs, fucking him faster, harder, deeper. he opens his eyes, half-lidded and dazed, as you sweep his hair out of his eyes, combing it back gently with your fingers.

you tug. he comes.

his velvety searing heat swallows you whole, animal in its hunger, and he digs his heels into your lower back, forcing your cock deeper in him until you have no choice but to follow him over the precipice, crashing over it like blue waves over white rock. his pleasure is engulfing, almost stifling despite his tenderness. he curls into your grasp, panting and nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and his hot, shuddering breath stirs against the fine skin of your collarbone.

when your hips slow to give him a moment of respite – surely he'd want one, you thought, barely able to eke out a gasp of your name – he instead takes the chance to chastise you.

"couldn't you have... finished... any faster?" he huffs, his chest heaving as he gulps down air between words. "you've a meeting in five minutes."

with your thoughts still lingering on the image of taehyung's bliss and the clandestine knowledge that he'd made a mess on your desk, you take a moment to respond. when you do, you're incredulous.

"wait, are you trying to keep me on schedule? now?"

"it's... it's office hours. i still have to do my job." he rolls his eyes, as if you aren't balls-deep inside of him. you remind him with a few shallow, gentle thrusts – he sucks in a shaky breath and tips his head back with a shake to let his bangs fall more comfortably over his forehead. "lord knows you're not the one keeping an eye on your timetable."

"we can talk about that later, and just reschedule that damn meeting. they'll wait for me." you press your lips to the dip just beneath his ear and he hums, lazily content. then, as if remembering that he has to play bad cop and not laze in the comfort of your touch, his eyes flutter open and his mouth thins into a straight line.

"you're making a bad habit out of this," he argues. there he is – your fiery assistant. if you looked at him now, you'd never know he'd just been making dirty videos with sultry smiles.

"the best kind of habit," you murmur, shifting your hips. his breath hitches and his grip tightens involuntarily on your shoulder, making you smirk. "don't worry, taehyung. i'll give you the rest of the day off. you need one – at least today because of me."

his frown deepens at your cheeky comment, even though his cheeks flush. "i don't take days off."

"you always say that, but what are you doing right now? working hard or hardly working?" you tease, sliding your hands up his thighs and hips.

"it's – different," he manages to gasp out, clicking his tongue when your nails drag over the veins of his messy cock. "stop that. you have a meeting, remember?"

you draw your hand back. "i was working when you sent me those videos. i seem to recall you were, too. this feels unfair."

"unfair?" he repeats. "you liked them. you always like them." he pauses. "don't you?"

"i'm not sure the other people on the train appreciate your beauty as much as i do." you kiss him and he hums, accepting your tongue into his mouth with a sigh of pleasure. "don't stop sending your videos."

"is that an order, big boy?" he whispers.

"yes, it is," you reply, and he smiles, brief and sweet. you pull out of him gently, rubbing the join between his hip and thigh soothingly as he moans softly through bitten lips. "now, you have an email to write. that meeting won't postpone itself."

he huffs, allowing you to help him down from your desk. he turns around, leaning over it to grab his laptop from the corner, and you press yourself into his back and ass, teasing your cock against his hole. the coffee he grabbed for you sits cold on the edge of your desk next to the pen holder.

"tell me what the email says," you murmur into his neck, caressing his stomach with one hand and teasing his nipples with the other.

taehyung's breath shudders as he nods, opening up the calendar and shifting the meeting to three days later. moving it a few hours means you look sloppy with your time management, and so does one day. three days looks like a choice – like you have better things to do with your time. these men don't have anyone else to go to, so they'll wait for you no matter what.

"your conference with mr ln has been moved to thursday, august twenty-first. please see attached—" he closes his eyes as your hand wraps around the base of his cock, gently squeezing. "p-please see attached a link to your updated appointment."

you shrug, peppering kisses over the freckles of his neck and shoulder. "good enough. send it."

he clicks send and closes his laptop, pushing it away as you lift him into your arms. he gasps and wraps his limbs around you, holding tight as you move him to the couch on the other side of the room. you hover over him as he pants softly, staring up at you with dark eyes and plump red lips.

"by the way, i've received message that your suit's been delivered to your home," you say with a soft smile. "you're going to outshine everyone at that stupid awards ceremony."

"you say that as if you won't like seeing me in it. you can fuck me in it in the car afterwards. you bought it, after all." his eyes glint dangerously. "maybe i'll wear a surprise under it – to celebrate your successes, of course."

you grin, filthy and boyish, and taehyung's heart flutters. "you've just made me very excited for that day. come grab coffee with me after work – we can test how much space i have in my backseat."

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 3 4 5 6 7 💐

The second time Eddie stopped by Harrington Floral, it was because it was his mom’s birthday.

Each year, he bought a dozen Black-eyed Susans, her favorite wildflower, and placed them on her grave. He’d also eat a piece of carrot cake in her honor with Uncle Wayne.

The carrot cake was usually store-bought because he and Wayne were both hopeless in the kitchen, but this year, Eddie was going to try and make her recipe from scratch.

He felt like he owed it to her, and he needed to overcome his fear of the oven if he was ever going to survive on his own. She’d want that for him. Growth. Adulthood.

He had a brown bag full of groceries in one arm, carrot tops hanging over the side as he entered the store.

There was a new display in the window now. This one was called When I Think of You, and it was an assortment of roses, all in various shades of pink and red.

It was a different florist than the brown-eyed beauty that ended up serving him, but Eddie heard a voice coming from the back.

“Rob, I told you I already watered the Anthuriums today. Now, you’ve gone and over-watered them. They’re very susceptible to rot. Be careful next time!”

“Alright, alright! Jesus,” the girl, Rob, responded. She rolled her expressive blue eyes, the freckles on her face standing out wildly around all the bright bouquets. “Flower nazi.”

Eddie wasn’t exactly in a laughing mood, not today, but it made his lips twitch.

Rob rang up Eddie’s flowers. “That’ll be seven ninety-five, please.”

As he handed over his cash and coins, Eddie saw the source of the cranky voice crouching over a potted plant, shaking a bag of fertilizer over the soil and muttering to himself.

Eddie’s head tilted. The flower nazi had a nice butt.

Rob cleared her throat—the fake kind that actually sounded like ahem—and shoved the bouquet and receipt under his nose. “Have a great daisy,” she told him flatly.

“Oh, I’m sure I will not,” Eddie said, taking them.

He walked out still feeling blue, but as he buried his nose in the bundle of Susans and smelled their sweet grassy aroma that reminded him so much of his mother, his steps became lighter.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

[astrae4]

THROW HIM AWAY! | Han Yujin

IN WHICH yujin wants to cuddle you, but you want to cuddle mr. carrot. A Valentine’s Special

FEATURING Zerobaseone’s Han Yujin and you, a highschool au

WARNINGS: kissing and sugar sweet nicknames

NOTE: Happy Valentines everyone! Here is for my jebewon readers and Yujin stans. Love you all (muah muah muah 💋) and please help me reblog hehe~ it’s my first time writing for zb1 so tell me if you want more works for them in the future!!

MORE WORKS: navigation | zb1!masterlist

IF THERE WAS ONE THING you treasured more than your stash of shoes, it would be the stuffed bunny doll that Yujin gave you during his confession. A pink, soft plush (you named him Carrot) with a white bow wrapped around its neck. You still remembered the day he gave it to you, after school with trembling hands as he rapped out his confession, eyes looking everywhere but you. You remember accepting it shyly, face feeling hot as it implied that you like him back.

That was three months ago.

Now, it seems that you grew very attached to the doll, not being able to sleep without it. So much so that you brought it with you during your Valentine's sleepover with Yujin.

Yujin had begged asked his mother to let him invite you to his house for a sleepover as his valentines day surprise. You were excited, and thankfully, your parents had let you come. The day was perfect in your eyes. You arrived in the evening and played video games with him and his brother until dinner time. Then, you had dinner with his parents. After, you and Yujin washed the dishes before finally having alone time together.

He had surprised you with strawberries covered in chocolate that he made himself (it tasted questionable 😨 but you still ate it, silently praying that you won’t end up in the toilet bowl) and gave you a small bouquet of flowers. (it was the last of his money but he’d never admit it)

You kind of almost teared up, thanking him by giving the boy a kiss on his cheek.

After, you played seventeen matches of uno and two matches of scrabble (Yujin rage quitted scrabble which was why you played uno so many times) before it was time to sleep.

”Can I have the right side—”

”Sure, now cuddle me,” he said impatiently, opening his arms.

Unfortunately for him, luck wasn’t on his side.

”Okay, but—” you took out Carrot, “Carrot goes in the middle.”

“Are you kidding me.” (the boy was like🧍🏻🙁)

“What.”

“Why are you holding that, we’re about to cuddle.”

“Are you rejecting Carrot right now, Yuyu? He’s our child.”

”Throw him away!”

”NO 😠😨!”

“He can live without hugging you tonight, it’s supposed to be just you and me..”

“Well, I can’t live without him.”

Yujin dead stared at you, before pulling the covers over his head and back-facing you. Oh..he was sulking alright. You looked at him, then at Carrot, and sighed.

“But I guess I can’t live without you most..so Carrot can sleep alone tonight..”

You could literally hear the gear in his head run as he peaked his head out of the blanket, giving you his boba eyes.

“Really?” He asked.

You set Carrot aside, going under the blanket and sandwiching him in a hug immediately, “yeah.”

He let out a noise of complaint, but you knew that he was enjoying it most since he didn’t retaliate and hugged you back, burying his face in your head. (Thank goodness you used your peach shampoo today)

A bit of silence passed as you basked in his warmth before you broke it, face looking up at him.

“Yujin.”

He let out a hm? as a reply.

“Happy valentines, love you.”

He looked at you with lovesick eyes before giving the fastest smooch (peck) in the lips. You were shocked, and he was 😼 because he was very proud of doing that.

The boy let out a giggle 🔥 (how dare he after he gave you a bomb) and went back to his previous position.

“Love you too~ goodnight and sweet dreams my honey bunny sugar plump pie.”

“Why do you have to ruin the moment.”

“Lol.”

“Goodnight too I guess..”

It was safe to say that you couldn’t sleep well that night; somewhat because Yujin forgot to tape his mouth so he snored so loud and drooled on your head, mostly because of his previous words and actions. (You’d never tell him that it was because of his previous behavior though, his head’s already big enough…)

TAGLIST — @heemingyu @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss

© astrae4 2024 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms! — inbox open for conversations and requests.

[philokaliist]

Can you do a Clarisse fic where she meets ur mother and its like based on that one Annabeth and Sally fanart where Sally's like "My son wouldn't hurt a fly." And Annabeth is like "But he would kill a man." And Sally's like "Of course he would.I raised him." But wirh fem reader??

'First Impression'

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

Clarisse stood nervously at the entrance of your house, holding a bouquet of flowers she insisted on bringing for your mother. As she stepped inside, she couldn't help but glance around, her tough exterior momentarily softened by the unfamiliar surroundings. Your mother, a sweet yet formidable woman, welcomed Clarisse with a warm smile.

The two exchanged pleasantries, and soon enough, they found themselves in the kitchen.The tension was palpable as Clarisse tried to find common ground.

However, to her surprise, your mother seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. She started by asking about Camp Half-Blood and Clarisse's experiences there. Clarisse, usually reserved, found herself opening up about her challenges and triumphs.

As you excused yourself to fetch some drinks, leaving the two alone, you couldn't help but wonder how the conversation would unfold. Clarisse genuinely admired your mother's strength because she knew your mother had raised you alone as you told her all about it and you had a feeling they would get along.

In the kitchen, you overheard snippets of their conversation. Your mother's laughter echoed through the air, mingling with Clarisse's gruffer tones. You couldn't help but smile, relieved that things seemed to be going well.

"Your daughter, she's somethin' else. Strong and kind," Clarisse said, attempting to express her respect. "Beautiful and considerate..."

Your mother chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "She gets it from her old lady. I raised her to be tough but fair."

As your mother reached for a sharp knife to cut some carrots, her movements deliberate and confident. Clarisse couldn't help but notice the ease with which she handled the blade.

"She's a special one,isn't she?" Your mother's eyes held a warmth that only a mother could convey.

Clarisse, usually stoic and guarded, couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, she is. I've never met anyone like her."

Your mother spoke again, her tone taking on a more matter-of-fact approach. "I taught her that there's a time for kindness and a time for strength. Life's not always easy, and my girl knows how to navigate through it."

Clarisse nodded, her respect for both you and your mother deepening. "She's lucky to have someone like you."

Your mother chuckled, her eyes glinting with pride. "I'm the lucky one. She's grown into a remarkable young woman, and I'm proud to call her my daughter."

Returning with refreshments, you found them deep in conversation.Your mother turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eye, saying, "My daughter wouldn't hurt a fly."

Clarisse smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "But she would kill a man."

Your mother chuckled,amused "Of course she would.I raised her." As she spoke,she used that same sharp knife, effortlessly slicing through carrots with practiced precision.Clarisse watched with admiration, finding the display oddly cool.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at the exchange. It was as if your worlds were colliding in the most unexpected yet heartwarming way. Clarisse, usually tough and unyielding, seemed to soften in the presence of your mother.

As the evening unfolded, you all sat around the dinner table, sharing stories and laughter. The connection between your mother and Clarisse went beyond your expectations. It wasn't just the strength they shared, but a mutual respect and understanding.

Later, as you and Clarisse prepared to leave, your mother pulled you aside, her eyes filled with pride and love. "I like her," she whispered, squeezing your hand. "She's good for you."

You nodded, grateful for the acceptance and support. Clarisse, standing nearby, caught the tender moment. In that simple gesture,she knew she made a good impression.

Later that night, as you and Clarisse left your mother's home, Clarisse couldn't help but express her admiration. "Your mom's pretty badass, you know that?"

You smiled "I know.She likes you,you know?And my mother isn't always impressed easily,and especially not at first either."

Clarisse chuckled "I hoped she would.I'm glad it all went well.And we should visit again soon.No we will visit again soon!" It seems she was genuinely happy and glad your mother liked her and she was pretty excited as she ended up blabbering about your mother and what they spoke about all the way back to camp.

A/N:Clarisse and reader's mom are besties fr.It's canon,it happens bc I said so.

[seduzist]

katniss everdeen x fem!reader

pure fluff w/ suggestive content. this is post-war.

you stands in the kitchen, singing lowly some melody that couldn’t leave your head in the last days, your experienced hands cutting some carrots and seasonings that you’ve just brought from your garden.

you’ve heard the door opening and fight all of your instincts to not turn your body to point the knife in your hand to it, you were home, you were safe. you told yourself, it was true.

a cold air hits your back slightly, and you heard steps on the wood ground, smiling softly at the thought that she was back home.

the sound of steps became louder but softer, like she was approaching with calm, she puts her bow on the table, just along with the animal she just hunted for your dinner, with her free hands, one goes to your waist, putting her head above your shoulder and smelling your perfume.

“hi.” you said, just loud enough for her to hear it.

katniss hands were cold, but her breath on your cheeks feel warm, even though she just chewed a few mint leafs before coming home.

“hi, pretty.” she says.

you turned around facing her, noticing how cold she was, it was expected since she just spent almost the whole day in the woods, hunting, chewing leafs of mint, making traps for small animals and running after bigger ones, and just today, picking some flowers for you.

she brings the other hand from behind her back, putting in front of you revealing some variants species, sunflowers, lilys, tulips, daisys, hibiscus, violets, but not a single rose.

it was a improvised bouquet, but looked just as pretty as the ones that was sold in capitol, even prettier in your opinion, your eyes lightened up and you embraced her neck with one of your arms, taking the bouquet with the other hand.

“it’s so pretty…” you looked at katniss with adoration in your eyes.

katniss wasn’t this type, she wasn’t the one to brings flowers or call her loved one pet names, she wasn’t the figure of a romantic, a lover, or any of these things, she never learned to be that way, but she just ended up loving you, so she did these things to makes you happy, even if was against her nature, she could feel her heart warming up when you looked at her with gratitude in your eyes, makes it worth.

you kissed her cold lips, caressing her soft cheeks with your thumbs, showing just how much you loved her gift, you felt her beating heart calm up a little bit, the red blush in her face going away as her body completely relaxed close to yours, feeling your presence, your touch, your lips.

“thank you, katniss, i really loved it.” you peck her lips once again and goes to wash your hands, filling a bowl with water, placing the bouquet inside with care to not damage a single petal. katniss watched your moves from afar with a little smile on her face, sitting at the table.

when you were done you admired the bouquet for the last time, you placed it at the center of the table, staring at katniss, who couldn’t take her eyes out of your figure. “i found those in a little plain close of the cottage, i could take you there tomorrow if you want to.”

“like a date? a picnic?” you walk towards her, embracing her shoulders, by the height of the chair she was sitting, her head was right below your chest, so you looked down in her eyes.

katniss’s eyes lightened up and she nodded with her head, smiling as you leaned to kiss her lips again, after a minute or two, the kiss became hungry and her hands a little exploring, her body now felt hotter and all you wanted to do was bringing her upstairs and thanking her for trying so hard to be a good wife for you, and you would do it in no time if wasn’t for a knock on the door.

“katniss? y/n?” peeta shouted from outside the door. “it’s saturday! i brought cake.” his voice sounded innocent just as his eyes used to look.

katniss broke the kiss with a frustrated frown, but peeta was right, it was saturday and just like every other saturday, you, katniss, peeta and haymitch would have dinner together, katniss would hunt a lot of meat, you would cook it, peeta would make a cake for dessert and haymitch would keep himself sober and bring the news from capitol so you all could talk about it, it used to be nice.

“what y’all doing in there?” haymitch much rougher voice echoed and you let out a laugh.

“we continue later.” you said calmly, and katniss rolled her eyes playfully, standing to open the door.

[shitsndgiggs]

please, please, please, a domestic au where you do grocery shopping with husband!kenan.

OUR LITTLE ROUTINES - KENAN YILDIZ

In which you and Kenan goes grocery shopping

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Kenan and I stepped out of the car, our breath visible in the crisp autumn air. The local grocery store's neon sign flickered welcomingly.

These grocery runs were one of the simple pleasures of our life together, a break from his busy football schedule and my hectic work.

Kenan grabbed a cart and glanced at me, his eyes twinkling. "Ready to conquer the aisles?"

I laughed, nudging him playfully. "Always. Let's get those essentials."

We started with the produce section, where Kenan meticulously examined each apple and bunch of grapes.

His focus on the task made me smile; he always took such care in everything he did.

"Do we need carrots?" he asked, holding up a vibrant orange bunch.

"Yep, for the stew," I replied, adding them to the cart.

As we moved through the store, our banter was light and easy. Kenan reached for items on the high shelves while I checked things off our list.

We made a good team, complementing each other perfectly.

In the cereal aisle, I picked up a box of his favorite and handed it to him. "Can't forget this."

He chuckled, placing it in the cart. "You're right. Breakfast wouldn't be the same without it."

We continued our shopping, running into a few neighbors who greeted us warmly. It was nice to feel so connected to our community, and I loved these moments of normalcy with Kenan.

At the dairy section, Kenan held up two different kinds of cheese. "Which one for our pasta night?"

I pretended to ponder deeply. "Hmm, go with the parmesan. It melts better."

He nodded, adding it to the cart. "Good call."

As we neared the checkout, I grabbed a bouquet of sunflowers from a display. They were my favorite and always brightened up our home.

"For the kitchen," I said, placing them in the cart.

Kenan smiled, his eyes soft. "Perfect."

We loaded our items onto the conveyor belt, working in sync. Kenan handled the payment while I bagged the groceries, a well-practiced routine that felt comforting in its familiarity.

Once home, we unloaded the groceries in our cozy kitchen. Kenan put away the items while I arranged the sunflowers in a vase, placing them on the table where they could catch the sunlight.

With everything sorted, Kenan wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. "These moments make everything worthwhile."

I leaned back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body. "I love our little routines."

He turned me around, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Me too."

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

just me and you [s.h.]

an: hiii just a little blurb based off what i think about when i listen to grapejuice by harry styles (very important to my lore) hope you enjoy!!

warnings: just kissing and fluff

wc: 1.8k

masterlist here!!!

You're perched on a bar stool in his kitchen, elbows pressed into the cool granite countertop and your feet dangle a foot from the ground, legs swinging lightly while you watch as he stirs a sauce that smells of garlic and spice, hip cocked to the side while he nods in time with the record you’ve put on. 

To your right you smile at the vase of flowers Steve had brought home for you, a bouquet of purples and blues that bring to mind days in bed with the windows open, curtains flowing and crisp fresh air swirling around you while you come in and out of sleep. 

Glasses of candy red wine, the best Italian according to Steve, sit in front of you, a light pink lip print from this morning's makeup that stains the side. Banfi Rosa Regale Brachetto, a mouthful for sure but Steve says the full name every time, butchering an Italian accent as he does. 

When he turns to you—wooden spoon in one hand and half full glass in the other, you take in his pink cheeks and wine marked lips. He looks like a Sunday afternoon, hair tousled from running his hands through the thick honey strands over and over, striped apron looped over his neck and tied in a bow around his waist. Bare Feet on the hardwood floors and a navy blue and white striped button down that’s half undone, light wash jeans snug on his hips and cuffed at his ankles. 

Sitting there with your hands cradling your cheeks, chin in your palm, you watch him float around the kitchen with an ease that lulls you into a sense of calmness you can only truly experience around him. The sun beams in through the kitchen window, curtains pulled back enough that it warms your skin and puts a gentle glow on his, tan and soft. 

He’s chopping vegetables in front of you now, head turning back like clockwork to make sure the sauce doesn’t burn but he always makes time to smile gently at you while you watch him work. You’re faintly aware of the song that’s drifting in from the living room but you’d much rather focus on the way it sounds coming from him, a gentle hum that vibrates from his chest and mixes with the wine to make you warm and fuzzy. 

You admire his forearms flexing just so with the knife in his hand, grip tight and eyes focused so it doesn’t slip from his grasp. He pops a piece of carrot into his mouth, the crunch breaking you from the spell he had you under. He meets your eyes with a wink, fingers moving closer to your mouth with a look of expectation in his eyes. 

“Open up, sweetness.” You do, mouth falling open and his thumb grazing your tongue when he slides the bite of carrot between your lips. You bite down, his hand patting your cheek in a silent praise before he goes back to cooking and you go back to admiring. 

Even though you’re not really sure what he’s doing and couldn’t prepare more than a box of mac and cheese to save your life, you never grow tired of watching him like this. It’s one of your favorite things, whether it be with a full house of friends and family or just the two of you like it is now. 

When the song changes a gasp pops from his lips and he’s rushing to turn down the stove before he glides over and sweeps you from your chair. One second you’re sitting there and the next you're in his arms while he pulls a flower from the vase behind you and snaps the bottom half off. He slips the stem behind your ear, grinning wide at the blush on your cheeks before tapping your nose with the tip of his finger and taking your hand in his. 

“Dance with me, yeah?” And you’d never say no to him, you don’t think you’re capable. One hand in yours and the other softly on your hip, he guided your head to rest against his chest, the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat felt on your cheek. You sway back and forth, his lips pressed against your forehead in a long, sweet kiss that has you melting into him. 

The petals of the blue poppy tickle at your skin but you don’t move to touch it. The two of you stand there gently moving past the end of the song and well into the next. Only when he remembers what he’d been doing before your dance does he pull away, going to stir the sauce and coming back to you just as fast. 

His hands go to your hips, pushing into you until your back digs into the counter. And then he’s lifting you up, sitting you on top and pushing everything to the side. He’s a few inches below you now, lip pulled between his teeth as he studies your face. Both of you have had a few glasses of wine, just affected enough that you’re extra smiley and can’t stop giggling. 

Pulling the flower from your hair you move to slip it behind his ear, his smile shy as he laces his fingers with yours and places quick pecks against the column of your throat. Undoing your hands so you can run your fingers through his hair, you smile at the smell of your shampoo, notes of coconut and citrus left on your fingertips. His hands fist at the sweater you’re wearing when you tug on his hair just hard enough to get his attention. 

When he brings his head from your chest you pull him up to you, pressing your lips to his in a slow kiss that leaves you breathless. Hints of raspberry and chocolate from the wine dance along your tongue when you swipe it across his bottom lip and you feel him smile against your mouth. He pulls back just to go in for another quick kiss, and then another, smirking at the way your mouth moves each time as if to chase his. 

“Tastes so sweet.”

“I think it’s the wine, Steve.” 

“No, baby, it's all you.” You shake your head at him, shoving him back just slightly so you can slip off the counter, moving back to your stool and rolling your eyes at the adorable pout on his cherry red lips that are now a little swollen from your kiss. 

“Get back to it, chef. I’m starved!” He salutes you, running his hands through his hair and going back to tending to the food while you admire the way the denim curves over his ass, hugging his thighs and making him look like a dream. One you think you’ve had many times before.

———-

Steve had insisted that the two of you eat outside, refusing to let you help with bringing out all the food. There’s a little table on the patio barely big enough for the two of you, two metal chairs warmed by the sun that Steve has pulled so they the legs are touching. 

An array of food in front of you, pasta and a meat sauce that smells divine, buttery garlic bread and cooked vegetables and an assortment of fruits all piled on top of each other. He’s coming through the back door now, the almost empty bottle of wine tucked under his arms and your now empty glasses balanced between his fingers. 

The apron he was wearing is thrown over the counter, dishes piled in the sink that you’ll wash later, his hip knocking playfully against yours while he dries them. He promised you chocolate covered strawberries for dessert and though they’re cooling in the fridge you can see a drop of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. 

When he finally sits down you swipe at it with your thumb, pulling it between your lips and humming in content at the sweetness. He’s looking at you sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders with a twinge of guilt but you just laugh, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his palm, then his wrist. 

It feels perfect out here, in more ways than one. The sun is warming your skin despite the breeze that wisps around you. It’s that time of day where it’s starting to get dark but it’s almost hazy out, the light fighting to stay. Steve’s switched the music and it filters through the house and out into the backyard, so low you’re not sure if you can really even hear it. 

And you’ve got Steve beside you, legs tangled together under the table and hands brushing against each other lazily while you eat the dinner he prepared for you. He’s grinning from ear to ear, smiling around a bite of garlic bread at the bit of sauce that’s somehow ended up on the tip of your nose. 

As much as you cherish being around your loved ones, having a house full of laughter and electricity and banter, you savor these moments of just the two of you. When it’s so quiet you can hear the softness of his breathing or the little noises his mouth makes when he’s focused on something. You love to listen to the sound of his laughter when you tell a bad joke or something happens in a show he’s watching. 

You wish you could bottle up the way it feels when he looks at you like nothing else exists, like you’re all he knows and that’s enough for him. He watches you sometimes, lip between his teeth and a look in his eye like you’ve hung the moon. 

Love doesn’t seem to do it justice. It’s all consuming and overbearing in the best way possible. Sometimes he can just glance at you and that’s all it takes. You could be at the grocery store or the farmers market or a family dinner and when he looks at you from across the room and smiles it takes your breath away and it’s like you can feel the adoration for him running through your veins. 

You’ve never felt it before him and you know you’d never feel it after him—not that you plan on ever knowing what that’s like. 

It’s just you and him. 

And when your plates are cleared and the dishes are put away, the bottle of wine finished and the both of you are more than tipsy, you feel happy. It’s how you find yourself sitting across from each other on the kitchen floor, all the lights off and only the glow of the open refrigerator surrounding you. He’s fed you enough chocolate covered strawberries to make your teeth ache and your belly is sore from laughing at the melted chocolate you’ve swiped across his chin and his nose. 

He tries to pretend like he’s annoyed but fails, gripping your face in his hands and bumping his nose with yours so both of you are covered in chocolate, loud laughs turning into quiet giggles until you’re slumped against each other, sticky with strawberry juice and melted chocolate, hands looped together the whole time. 

[yerimbrit]

[flufftober day 24, wc: 523] - farmers market : m. danielle

THE HEART OF DOWNTOWN is as bustling and lively as ever, children running around and couples in love. it’s late afternoon, and you and danielle are one of those couples in love, walking hand-in-hand to the source of the busyness—the farmers market.

it’s something that the two of you’ve been planning to go to for a while now, but haven’t found the time to, with classes and work and whatnot. other days, neither of you wanted to leave the comfort of your bed. with today being a rare free day, not to mention rare motivation, you decided to set out for the depths of the city.

“strawberries,” you read the sign aloud, pointing with your unoccupied hand, then turning to your girlfriend, “want a sample?”

danielle grins at you and nods, “you’re doing an awful job at promoting.”

“don’t be a hater, mojune,” you shake your head, heading towards the stall with the strawberry sign. the owner of the stall greets you with a bright smile, gesturing towards the samples for you to take. you and danielle take one each, taking a big bite of the juicy fruit, humming in content at the sweet and sourness seeping into your taste buds.

“we can’t go back there,” she nods to herself, “you’ll have to hold me back.”

you laugh, but squeeze her hand. “don’t worry, i think we’ll have to hold each other back from getting more samples.”

the two of you walk around, trying more samples and commenting on the taste of each fruit or vegetable. you actually did need to hold her back when it came to the carrots—that girl can be quite crazy for them. once, she hesitated when choosing you over carrots, and you’re starting to think she was serious about choosing the vegetable over you. 

out of the corner of your eye, you spot a vendor selling flowers, and while your girlfriend wasn’t looking, you went to go buy a bouquet of pink and white chrysanthemums. you weren’t really versed in flower meanings, but the girl at the stall was cheerful when you said it was for your lover, saying that they mean love, loyalty, and admiration—all things you feel for danielle. 

as you get back, you surprise the girl who is probably looking around for you, presenting the wrapped bouquet to her with a proud look on your face. “surprise, dani.”

danielle gasps, hands covering her mouth until she enthusiastically brings you in for a hug, thanking you a million times, taking the flowers from you. “thank you, y/n, oh my gosh, these are so pretty!”

“pretty flowers for a pretty girl,” you add, shoving your hands into your pockets and smiling at the beaming girl. she glances at you, then at the flowers, then brings you in for a sweet kiss on the lips. some bystanders coo at you as they walk past, you’re in the middle of the street but this moment makes your heart swell with love and joy. you separate, and danielle sniffs the flowers once more before taking your hand in hers again.

“i love you.”

you grin. “i love you more.”

flufftober masterlist!

a/n : i want flowers from someone i like wtf