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Order Indian Sweets Online: The Ultimate Guide to Authentic Delights
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Indian sweets, or mithai, have a special place in the hearts of food lovers worldwide. From the vibrant colors to the rich flavors, these treats are synonymous with celebrations, festivals, and cherished memories. With the convenience of online shopping, indulging in these traditional delicacies is now just a click away. At Govaabazaar, we make it simple and delightful to order Indian sweets online, especially our famous Bhavnagari sweets.
Why Choose Indian Sweets?
Indian sweets are a delightful blend of tradition, culture, and flavor. Whether it's gulab jamun, rasgulla, or Bhavnagari peda, these sweets are crafted with care, using ingredients like milk, sugar, nuts, and aromatic spices. They symbolize warmth, joy, and hospitality. When you order Indian sweets online, you bring a piece of this heritage straight to your home.
Benefits of Ordering Indian Sweets Online
Gone are the days of standing in long queues at sweet shops or worrying about freshness during long journeys. Online platforms like Govaabazaar offer numerous advantages:
Convenience at Your Fingertips Shopping for sweets online saves you time and effort. With just a few clicks, you can explore a wide variety of options and have them delivered to your doorstep.
Wide Selection Online stores often offer a more extensive range of sweets compared to traditional shops. You can explore regional specialties like Bhavnagari sweets, Bengali rasgullas, or Punjabi pinnis without leaving your home.
Guaranteed Freshness Quality is a top priority for reputable platforms. Freshly prepared sweets are packed and shipped with care to retain their texture and flavor.
Ease of Gifting Want to surprise a loved one? Online platforms make it easy to send sweets as gifts. Add a personalized message for festivals like Diwali, Raksha Bandhan, or Eid.
Why Bhavnagari Sweets Are a Must-Try
Hailing from the culturally rich city of Bhavnagar, Gujarat, Bhavnagari sweets are known for their unique taste and premium ingredients. Here's what makes them stand out:
Authentic Recipes: Traditional methods ensure every sweet has an authentic flavor.
Rich Ingredients: These sweets are crafted with premium-quality khoya, saffron, and dry fruits.
Versatility: Perfect for every occasion, whether it’s a wedding, festival, or a simple craving for something sweet.
At Govaabazaar, we specialize in offering authentic Bhavnagari sweets that bring a taste of Gujarat to your table.
Popular Indian Sweets You Can Order Online
If you're exploring online options, here's a list of beloved Indian sweets you shouldn't miss:
Laddoos Whether it's besan laddoo, motichoor laddoo, or rava laddoo, these round delights are a favorite across households.
Barfis From kaju katli (cashew fudge) to coconut barfi, these diamond-shaped sweets are a hit during festivals.
Jalebi These golden spirals of sugary bliss are perfect for celebrations and pair wonderfully with hot milk.
Peda Bhavnagari peda, known for its soft, melt-in-your-mouth texture, is a specialty you can easily order from Govaabazaar.
Halwa Varieties like sooji halwa, gajar halwa, and badam halwa are rich, comforting, and bursting with flavor.
Regional Specials Try Mysore Pak from Karnataka, sandesh from Bengal, or Bhavnagari sweets for a diverse taste experience.
Tips for Ordering Indian Sweets Online
To ensure a seamless experience while ordering Indian sweets, keep these tips in mind:
Choose a Trusted Platform Opt for platforms like Govaabazaar that specialize in high-quality and authentic Indian sweets.
Read Reviews Customer reviews can offer insights into the quality and taste of the products.
Check Delivery Options Ensure the platform delivers to your location and offers secure packaging to maintain freshness.
Explore Combo Packs Many platforms offer assorted sweet boxes, perfect for sampling different flavors.
Look for Deals Keep an eye out for festive discounts or bulk offers to get the best value.
Why Govaabazaar Is Your Go-To Destination
At Govaabazaar, we take pride in offering:
Authenticity: Our sweets are prepared using time-honored recipes to deliver the true taste of India.
Freshness: Every order is crafted fresh and delivered with utmost care.
Variety: From Bhavnagari sweets to pan-Indian favorites, we cater to diverse tastes.
Secure Packaging: Our sweets are packed in eco-friendly, tamper-proof materials to preserve their quality.
Reliable Delivery: Enjoy hassle-free delivery to your doorstep, no matter where you are.
Perfect Occasions for Ordering Indian Sweets Online
Indian sweets are versatile and suit every celebration. Here are some occasions to order sweets from Govaabazaar:
Festivals: From Diwali to Holi, sweets are the essence of every Indian festival.
Weddings: Gift your guests beautifully packaged sweet boxes.
Birthdays: Make birthdays special with delicious treats.
Corporate Gifting: Impress clients and colleagues with premium sweet assortments.
Everyday Indulgence: Treat yourself to the rich flavors of India anytime.
Conclusion
Ordering Indian sweets online is a convenient, delightful way to indulge in traditional flavors while enjoying the comforts of home. Platforms like Govaabazaar make it easy to explore authentic Bhavnagari sweets and other popular treats. Whether you're celebrating a special occasion or satisfying a craving, Indian sweets are a perfect choice.
So why wait? Order Indian sweets online from Govaabazaar today and savor the timeless taste of tradition!
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NEIGHBORLY.
simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz
tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp
cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie
; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.
"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."
8.5k words
When your fiancé surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose.
It was all so perfect – living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldn’t have been happier.
Then the house next door sold.
“You really have to give them away?” Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.
You laugh over your shoulder, “It’s the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!”
“They smell good…” Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.
His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, “After I get back from delivering these I’ll make a whole batch just for you, deal?”
He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, “Let’s get it over with.”
“You’re coming?” you ask, brows raised in surprise.
“Of course,” he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet.
You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest.
You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex.
“Maybe when we get back,” you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, “You can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?”
Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch..
His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.
“What?” he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.
“Just…” you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, “Stay here, okay? We don’t want to scare the new neighbors.”
“You implying I’m scary, love?” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.
“I’m not implying it, Si,” you grin, “Just stay here while I deliver these.”
“You’re the boss,” he sighs.
True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell.
You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before there’s a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open.
Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you – probably the one who ran into the door.
“Oh,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, “Can-can we help ye?”
The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, “You’re from next door.”
“Huh?!” The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, “We had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!”
“Are those for us?” he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.
“Oh!” you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, “I made you some cookies. They’re just plain chocolate chip, I hope you don’t mind.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours.
“So,” mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, “My name’s Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.”
“Nice to meet you,” you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.
“Kyle,” he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”
“Hey, don’t hog those for yourself, ye pig!” Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, “These are good.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you like them,” you giggle, “You can return the tupperware whenever you’re ready.”
“So,” Soap hums before you can leave, “You’re pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.”
You bashfully lower your head and laugh, “I don’t think my fiance would appreciate that very much.” You gesture over your shoulder.
Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, “Figures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.”
You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, “I’ll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!”
You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isn’t until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut.
Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, “They liked the cookies.”
“Bet they did,” he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself – as you promised.
The next time you see your neighbors, it’s just Kyle. You’re outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers.
“Hey there, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls from behind.
You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, “Oh hello, Kyle!”
“Doin’ some dirty work, are you?” he asks, eyeing the holes you’re carefully digging.
“Just getting started on my garden,” you explain, “What about you? Going for a run?”
“That’s right,” he nods, “May be on leave but gotta keep movin’ or I go crazy.”
“Leave?” you ask, sitting up straight in interest, “You’re in the military?”
His eyes light up as he nods, “That’s right. Soap and I both.”
“You don’t live on base?” you ask, unable to hide your interest.
“Nah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldn’t handle it anymore,” he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, “You interested in military men, love?” he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.
You laugh softly, “You could say that,” his brows raise in interest, “My fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.”
His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, “Right, your fiance.”
“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” you offer, “Simon doesn’t really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really like–”
“That’s alright, love,” Kyle says, smiling politely, “I’ve got a run to go on, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to meet him soon enough.”
“Alright,” you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight.
You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets without looking away.
“Hi baby!” you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, “I ran into Kyle outside!”
“Who?” he asks, barely showing any hint of interest.
“One of the guys from next door!” you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, “Turns out they’re both in the military!”
“Is that right?” that finally gets his attention.
You nod, turning to look at him, “I offered to introduce you but I think they’re a little scared of you after all.”
He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, “Think they wanna fuck you, lovie.”
You swallow thickly and look up at him, “Th-They’re just flirts…”
He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, “Think I don’t know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.”
“S-Si, I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, “I was outside, remember?”
He scoffs, “What kinda man do you take me for?”
You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, “You can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.”
A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.
He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second you’re out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed.
“You like keeping me waitin’, lovie?” he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, “Leavin’ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achin’, sweetheart.”
“Si…” you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, “I-I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh?” he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, “I like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.
“So sweet for me,” he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, “You’re this wet?”
Your cheeks burn in humiliation, “Sh-Shut up, don’t be mean.”
“Mean?” he asks incredulously, “You’re callin’ me mean while I’m playin’ with this pretty cunt?”
You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you.
Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simon’s cock twitch in interest.
The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can wait
“Please, Si,” you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it.
He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up.
“Take it off,” you whine, making him pause.
He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes you’re giving him has him huffing and obeying.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head.
“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers.
Once he’s finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before he’s pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You can’t do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth.
He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat.
You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.
“Oh, that feels so good, Si,” you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.
“I know, love,” he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, “I treat this little cunt just right, don’t I?”
“Uh-huh!” you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, “No one fucks me as good as you, Si.”
He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin.
“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,” he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you.
His next thrust isn’t as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.
“Simon!” you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.
“Fuck, look at that,” he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess you’re covering his cock in, “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, lovie.”
“You’re gonna make me cum!” you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.
“I know I am, sweetheart,” he grunts, teeth clenched, “Always make this pretty cunt cum don’t I?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, “Cumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!”
He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm.
When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm – his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve.
“Shit, I love you s’much,” he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, “My pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.”
Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, “Love you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.”
He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan.
“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, “Take it all.”
“Ah…Si…” you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out.
“You alright, lovie?” he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, “You did so well.”
You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, “Never better. You’re so handsome.”
He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.
You hum, “I have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?”
He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.
One afternoon, there’s a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer.
On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands.
“Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, holding the box out, “Gaz and I loved ‘em.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.
“Somethin’ smells heavenly,” he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.
“I’m just making dinner,” you explain with a little shrug.
“Guess you’re one hell of a cook too, huh?” he compliments, a charming smile on his face.
“I get by,” you laugh.
“Say,” he says suddenly, “Is that big bastard really your fiance?”
You blink in surprise at his bold question, “Y-Yes..?” your response comes out more as a question.
“Is that a problem?” a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you.
You jump when Simon’s firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, “Si, you should be watching the stove.”
“You go ahead and finish up, lovie,” he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door.
“Ah,” Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, “Simon was it?”
“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” Simon warns, “I’m not above putting you in your place.”
“Y-Yes sir,” Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, “I’ll be more mindful.”
“Get the hell off my porch,” Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs.
Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, “Everything okay, Si? You weren’t too hard on him, were you?”
Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, “Who do you think I am?”
You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, “I don’t want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.”
He sighs, taking a seat across from you, “Alright, I’ll be nice, love. I promise. I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize for bein’ rude, will that make you happy?”
“Yes,” you smile, “They’re not too bad. They’re just…rambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! They’re just flirts.”
He nods, “They’re…interesting characters.”
The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door.
“Oh, hello neighbor,” Kyle greets nervously, “Is there something you need?”
“Your friend,” Simon grunts, “I’d like to talk to him.”
Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, “Whatever he did, don’t mind him. He’s just an idiot.”
Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, “I wanted to apologize to him.”
“Oh!” Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, “Soap, door for you!”
Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, “Hello, sir.”
“Soap, right?” Simon says, “Listen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.”
“Ah, well,” Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, “I-I deserved it, I shouldn’t have said what I said either. Your relationship isn’t any of my business.”
Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, “Pretty, huh?”
“Sir?” Soap blinks in confusion.
Simon says your name, “Pretty little thing. Can’t blame you for makin�� eyes.”
“I…” Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, “W-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.”
Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows you’re bustling about inside, “You think they’re pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.”
Soap’s throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyle’s eyes practically bug out of his head at Simon’s words.
The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence.
When Simon’s in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back.
“What’s so funny, Si?” you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands – the second load from yesterday that you hadn’t had the chance to do.
“Nothin’, lovie,” he grins, sharp canines on display, “Let me help you with that.”
“Did you make up with the neighbors?” you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.
“I sure did,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room.
You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day.
Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You don’t see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down.
You’re relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, you’d be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.
Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man.
Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simon’s hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing.
“Look so pretty like this,” he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.
You smile against his lips, “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet today.”
“I know,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, “You’re pretty without even havin’ to try, lovie.”
“You’re just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,” you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek.
“Don’t gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?” he coos, “You’ll let me right between those thighs without even havin’ to ask.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because he’s right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.
“You want somethin’ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, “Even with our little audience over there?”
He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but it’s clear they’ve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance.
“Don’t care,” you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, “Knew you were filthy, don’t mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?”
You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him.
“Good,” he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until you’re ready.
Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until they’re covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.
“Relax, just like that, good,” he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them.
Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers.
He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you.
You reach up to grab Simon’s wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction.
“I want you, Si,” you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.
“Is that right?” he asks, raising a brow, “Is that pretty little pussy wet?”
You nod your head, “Want your tongue, Si.”
He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now don’t even bother hiding the fact they’re watching the two of you.
“Want me to eat you out right here?” he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.
“Don’t care about them,” you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldn’t say no to.
Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed.
“Look at you,” he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit.
The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He can’t resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch.
“Thaaaaat’s it, pretty,” he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, “Let us hear you.”
Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below.
He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before he’s wrapping his lips around it again and sucking.
The feeling makes your back arch and you can’t help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position you’ve chosen for yourself.
Simon’s eyes are closed and there’s a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact you’re outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fiance’s tongue feels worshiping your clit.
“Si!” you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. It’s so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it.
He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste – a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.
“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, “You’re gonna make me cum, Si!”
He can’t even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but it’s barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue.
Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks.
He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths he’s gotten since he started.
“Good?” he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.
You nod, breathless, “Take me inside and fuck me, please Si.”
He’s on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind – and the audience still on the porch next door.
You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom.
“Our neighbor’s a nosy little bastard,” he coos into your ear.
You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasn’t watching and waiting to see what would happen next.
“He’s waitin’ so patiently,” Simon says, “It’s only polite of us to give him somethin’ to look at.”
“Glad to see you’re finally being neighborly,” you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face.
Simon’s fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.
“Fuck,” he coos, large hands cupping them, “Can’t believe I get to marry you some day.”
“We still need to pick a date,” you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple.
He groans against your chest, “I’d marry you right fuckin’ now if you’d let me.”
You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and you’re facing the window – and Soap, who still stands there stunned.
Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.
You can’t stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this – it felt so dirty and wrong but that’s exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this.
“You wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, “Somethin’ they’ll be fistin’ their cocks to later?”
“Yes, anything, Si,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Then get on your knees,” he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, “There you go. Just where you belong.”
He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness.
A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin.
His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper.
When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down.
He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue.
When you’ve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him.
He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. It’s everything – it’s messy and sloppy. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, too scared he’ll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest.
“Fuck,” he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You can’t help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fiance’s thick cock.
“That’s it, lovie,” he huffs, “Touch that pretty cunt for me.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants.
“There you go,” he grunts, teeth gritted, “Cum on those fingers for me and I’ll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?”
You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes.
Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth.
With a final, deep groan, Simon’s balls draw up and his brows furrow before he’s spilling right down your throat – as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer.
When he’s finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings.
“Fuck,” he laughs breathlessly, “That little throat is dangerous.”
You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.
You never thought about how you would feel when you’d have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadn’t actually spoken to them face to face.
“I invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,” Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.
You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, “You what?!”
“Saw them while I was out on my mornin’ run,” he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, “Thought I’d be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we haven’t yet.”
“Simon!” you cry out indignantly, “How am I supposed to face them!?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.
“Th-They’ve watched us do all sorts of shit!” you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.
“So?” he hums, “We’re all adults. You think they can’t act normal just ‘cause they’ve seen you with a cock down your throat?”
You let out a frustrated sound, “You’re so-!”
“Relax, sweetheart,” he croons, placing his empty cup down, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldn’t resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for.
Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.
“I think we all know what we want,” he sighs, “So why don’t we cut the shit and get on with it.”
Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead.
One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasn’t something you wanted to do. But you never did.
Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra.
Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath.
Soap follows Simon’s hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore.
“What do you think?” Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss.
“A fuckin’ dream,” Soap whispers, sounding like he’s in a daze.
Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you.
After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you don’t have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it.
Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts.
“Prettier up close…” Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him.
Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely.
“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties.
“Aren’t they so lucky?” Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, “Gettin’ to see you like this when only I should get to.”
“Si…” you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties.
“What do you say, men?” Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.
“Thank you, sir,” both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you.
Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so you’re completely bared – the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter.
Simon’s fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fiance’s fingers.
“There you go, lovie,” he coos, “Show them how wet you get for me.”
He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but it’s not enough – one finger would never be enough when you’ve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder.
You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble.
“Si!” you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm.
“Yeah?” he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers.
You’re unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe.
Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simon’s strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simon’s fingers continue to fuck you through it until you’re gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue.
He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You don’t even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down – coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers.
“How are you boys enjoyin’ the show?” Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence.
You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soap’s got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.
“Fuckin’ incredible, sir,” Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist.
Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyle’s, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze.
You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips.
Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until you’re suddenly cumming around his cock.
“Shit!” Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm you’ve given yourself, “Cummin’ just from gettin’ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.”
You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving – fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure – an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you.
His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. You’re not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning.
Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips.
“Shit…” Soap groans through his teeth, “Wish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlin’.”
You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simon’s cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you.
As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, “Felt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?”
“Y-You are!” you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, “J-Just wanna cum, Si!”
Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it.
It’s even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasn’t holding you tight against his chest by your throat, you’d certainly be slumping to the floor.
Simon’s hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds.
“Si, Si, Si–” you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, “Please, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum!”
“Course I am,” Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it.
That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end – spilling his load inside you without a second thought.
You’re left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.
“You,” Kyle adds, “are one hell of a neighbor.”
property of rowarn. do not modify, translate, or report on other websites. reblogs OK!
#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#soap mactavish smut#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish smut#john soap mactavish smut#john soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap smut#soap x reader#ghost smut#ghost x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick smut#gaz x reader#gaz smut#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz smut#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick smut#cod smut#cod x reader
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when he's falling for you - black leg sanji
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8cb5ef00e6bd3a621e936eedef6090ab/45f2f68bc72d3f26-a3/s540x810/35b9aa46f381ceac0725c93bf45de6060eafccc4.jpg)
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a/n: this is a new series (i guess thats what i'll call it 💀) i'm starting to work on!! so there will be future installments with other characters coming soon!! but obviously my babygirl sanji is first 😌💗
nothing but fluff here 💗
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-instead of his usual suave attitude, constant pick-up lines, and blatant displays of attraction, he'll get a lot more shy.. blushing over the smallest things, even just trying to greet you
-when making his rounds delivering drinks to all the girls on the sunny, he finds a way to ever so slightly touch you. holding the glass in a way so you have to touch his hand, as you all stand and chat he ever so gently leaves his hand on the smalls of your back...
-the amount of sweet treats he makes for you increase exponentially. cookies, cupcakes, cakes, caramels, you name it, he's made it for you.
-he'll invite you into the kitchen as he preps and cooks lunch and dinner, even if you dont feel like talking he just enjoys your company and presence. you also get the honored and highly sought-after position of taste testing everything as he cooks, and he'll always gently blow on the food to cool it off and feed it to you.
-however, sanji's biggest tell is that he completely stops flirting with other women. he's still respectful and courteous, but no over the top compliments, no comments on appearance, he simply has no interest in anyone other than you.
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a/n: (also i did want to say, i really appreciate all the love and support i've been getting from writing these little fics, it genuinely means so much to me and i would literally give you guys all the biggest kisses if i could; but i cant so i'll treat you to more fics 😌)
a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!
#one piece#one piece fic#one piece fanfic#one piece x reader#one piece fluff#one piece headcanons#one piece black leg sanji#op black leg sanji#black leg sanji#one piece vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#sanji x reader#sanji fluff#fluff fic#one piece sanji#op sanji#sanji#via's fics
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♡₊˚🎀・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 . . . 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗵𝗲? ♡₊˚🎀・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ read part one first
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 nanami forgot your birthday but he's got something special planned 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 cold shoulder treatment 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sfw 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity
: ̗̀➛ words: 4.1 k
: ̗̀➛ notes: we're back again with fluffy nanami. honestly i shed a tear writing this one because it's just so adjfskdf. if you haven't read part one, go DO IT. RIGHT NOW. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!
It's been a year since you took that leap, moving in with Nanami. Every day spent in each other's company feels like a fresh chapter, and the magic of your relationship persists as if it were the very first night.
Nanami, with his gentle smile and warm eyes, never tires of recounting the story from his perspective. Each time you ask, he patiently agrees to retell it, even though you've long since memorized every detail. The familiarity of his narrative only adds to the charm, as if reliving those moments helps both of you cherish the journey that brought you together.
“You invited a couple of my colleagues to your bakery's opening, and they brought back leftover cookies and pastries to the office. I grabbed some, and with the first bite, I knew your bakery was going to be my favorite. So, I asked Gojo to drive me to your city, not knowing it was going to rain that night. With no parking nearby, I ended up walking. Halfway through, it started pouring. Luckily, I made it just in time, and there you were, smiling like the sun that was supposed to be in the sky. You offered me free food and shelter, and right then, darling, I fell in love with you. It was the most incredible feeling in the world.”
Each time he finishes his heartwarming story, you can't help but be overwhelmed with emotion. Without hesitation, you jump on him with a flurry of kisses, showering him with all the love you harbor for your sweet, stoic boyfriend.
You've shared every conscious moment together since then. With Nanami now working remotely, he'd set up at one of the dining tables in your bakery, delving into meetings and paperwork. You'd plant kisses on his cheek or embrace him from behind, providing a boost of energy. Delivering his special casse-croûte and milk coffee, you occasionally found yourself feeding him as his busy hands typed away. Breaks led to stolen moments in the back room, where you'd make out like teenagers.
Once at home, you'd strip out of your clothes, shower or bathe together, and engage in domestic activities like watching television or attempting to nap, but those often evolved into extended sessions of sex.
Today, silence lingered between you two following a heated argument the previous night.
Unbeknownst to Nanami, your birthday was just around the corner, yet he had scheduled a business trip on that very day. Despite the depth of his knowledge about your past, from childhood playground scars to the dresses you wore for school dances, he seemed oblivious to the significance of the impending date.
In a seemingly nonchalant manner, Nanami had mentioned, “Darling, I'll be away on a business trip from the sixth and will return on the eighth. We can plan a picnic or head to the beach—whatever you prefer.”
“The sixth?” You had to set your utensils down, turning to face him. Your meals were typically enjoyed on the carpet, with plates on the coffee table and your favorite movies playing on the television. “You have a business trip? On the sixth?”
“Yes, that's correct.”
“Kento, what the hell? Why?”
He arched an eyebrow. “It's my job, darling. That's why. It's been on my agenda for a month. Missing it would mean losing out on a lucrative deal."
“But—” You caught yourself mid-sentence.
At that moment, you wished you could shout that it was your first-ever birthday celebration since your parents’ passing.
His birthday had been just two days prior, and you had gone all out—decorating the apartment, baking a cake, preparing a feast of his favorite dishes, buying him new cufflinks, and giving him the blowjob of the century as the cherry on top. It had become one of your cherished days together, an occasion you had been planning for weeks.
“But?” Nanami prodded.
You clenched your jaw. “But it's... you know. It's.”
“What's going on?” he asked, genuinely befuddled. “Did I miss something?”
Your lips quivered, and in an attempt to silence them, you stuffed a dumpling into your mouth, shaking your head. “Never mind.”
“Please, talk to me.”
Ignoring his plea, you continued shaking your head as he gently pulled at your shoulder to make you face him. Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your flushed cheeks. Even swallowing the dumpling felt like a struggle amid the surge of complaints in your throat.
“Darling—”
“Just forget it, Nanami.” You wiped your cheeks, your open hair concealing one side of your face. “You already have,” you whispered to yourself.
“Fine,” Nanami replied, casually returning to his food. It wouldn't have been a big deal if you had just mentioned your birthday, but it stung. He should know. After all, he's Nanami—meticulous with schedules, mindful of important dates, and impeccable with time management. Why doesn't he know?
“Are you joking?” you exclaimed, grabbing the remote from his grasp and turning off the movie. “That's all you have to say? ‘Fine’?”
“You told me to forget about it.”
“Yeah, I did. But that doesn't mean you actually forget.”
“I don't get it.”
“Of course you don't.”
He sighed, and you berated yourself for being so obstinate. You resented that sigh, as it made you feel like a nuisance. Yet, it was a warranted sigh, so you let it slide. “Are you upset?”
“What?”
“You are. I can't believe you're upset.” Running your fingers through your hair, you picked up your plate. “I'm going to bed before I say something stupid. Goodnight. Enjoy your trip.”
“Y/N—”
“Goodnight.”
“My love, what’s bothering you?” he asked from the living room while you dumped your dish in the sink. “Would you please just talk to me? Have I said something to offend you?”
You walked off toward your bedroom, into your bathroom, and locked the door. Turning on the shower, you sat down on the floor, holding your knees and crying in the gap between.
You've been ignoring Nanami ever since you woke up nestled against his chest—your body was naturally attuned to his. But since then, you've been withdrawn and moody, casting a shadow over your usual sunny demeanor. Even some of your regular customers have noticed and asked if you were unwell, but you brushed it off with a forced smile and a minor headache excuse. As you were wiping down tables, Nanami entered during lunchtime. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, then retreated behind the counter, placing his coffee cup and sandwich a bit too forcefully.
“Thank you, darling,” he said, accepting it. “Would you like to join—”
“That'll be ten-fifty,” you interrupted, fingers already inputting the amount without meeting his gaze. You’ve never once charged him since you started dating; everything he desired was on the house because he was your favorite regular and person. You loved him so much that you even experimented in baking his beloved pastries and added them to the menu. Yet, he forgot your birthday.
Nanami retrieved the exact change from his wallet and extended it to you. Your hand snatched it, guilt gnawing at you instantly. Pretending to open the cash register, you discreetly slipped the money into your apron instead.
“Would you like to join me?” he asked once more.
You slammed the cash drawer shut and swiftly turned, heading to the inventory room to immerse yourself in organizing as a distraction.
As Nanami waited outside, thumbs dancing over his phone’s keyboard, you couldn't help but notice his sudden shift in demeanor when you approached. Your mind raced with suspicions of infidelity, but rationality reminded you of his busy schedule now that he wasn't in the office regularly. He was too devoted to you to entertain such thoughts.
Nanami reached out his hand, but you brushed past him, burying your hands in your cardigan. Determined to celebrate your birthday, albeit alone, you headed to the nearest supermarket for groceries. You planned to indulge in your favorite pasta dish, bake fudge brownies, and allow yourself to feel whatever emotions came, whether tears of joy or sadness. Today, you'd celebrate yourself. Happy birthday to you.
Nanami followed you into the supermarket, walking beside you as he added both your and his favorite snacks to the cart. You were determined to make him pay for it all, although you knew he would insist on covering the expenses regardless. Throughout the year you had been together, Nanami never once allowed you to spend your own money. Even during online shopping, he always managed to intercept, distracting you with neck kisses until you surrendered to using his card.
You couldn't help but pout and shoot him a sidelong glance as he meticulously examined the ingredients on a bag of chips. Your gaze then shifted to the cake mix and icing packets, giving you an idea. Bingo.
If you weren't going to outright mention your upcoming birthday, you could at least drop a hint.
Clearing your throat, you grabbed a chocolate-vanilla mix with caramel icing and deposited it into the cart. Nanami observed the entire exchange, briefly meeting your gaze with a neutral expression before returning to scrutinizing the ingredients as though they were sacred text.
Damn him!
“Excuse me, sir?” you called, drawing an innocent elderly employee into your scheme. “It's my friend's birthday tomorrow, and I'm torn between which cake mix to choose. Could you help me out?”
As Nanami switched to a different chip bag, your frustration simmered, but the employee weighed his options, eventually settling on chocolate-vanilla. Grateful, you thanked him and strode away, the cart trailing behind.
Nanami handled the grocery payment and bagging while you observed with arms crossed.
Back at home, you kicked off your shoes, discarded your cardigan on the floor, and trudged wearily to your bedroom. The sounds of the fridge and cabinets being stocked echoed as you sprawled out like a starfish.
“Is he pretending?” you mumbled to yourself. “He must be, right? He couldn't have forgotten my birthday. No way.”
Quickly, you took your phone, dialing Satoru, his assistant. The call forwarded instantly, but his response, received a minute later, left you irritated beyond measure.
Satoru: Sorry, Y/N. Can’t take your call. Packing for a business trip tomorrow. We’re going to Thailand. Will get you a souvenir!
Feeling frustrated, you left him on read and flopped onto your stomach, letting out a scream into the pillow.
Skipping dinner with Nanami, you stayed curled up in bed instead. Despite his attempts to comfort you, kissing your cheeks and tucking you in, you couldn't shake the ache in your heart as you heard him packing in the closet, trying to hide your tears.
It was well past midnight when you finally stirred awake.
Glancing over your shoulder, you found Nanami meters away from you. The realization hit you hard: he had genuinely forgotten your birthday. A mountain settled on your chest as you watched him sleep peacefully, unaware of his oversight. He didn't reach out to hold you close or pull you into his embrace; instead, he slept facing away from you.
You wiped away the tears from your tired eyes, then got up and took your pillows to the living room, hoping to find some sleep on the couch. Instead, you found yourself captivated by the sight of the sunrise.
Meanwhile, Nanami seemed unusually relaxed as he prepared for his business trip, taking his time with his morning routine. He took his time showering, shaving, and ironing his clothes—tasks that you usually handled. He adorned himself with the cuff links you gave him for his birthday and wore the cologne from your six-month anniversary. It stung a bit, realizing how diligent you were in remembering special dates while he seemed to forget them so easily.
But you shrugged it off.
Today was your birthday, and you were determined to make it special, even if you had to celebrate alone. Your customers were already aware that you'd be closed for the day, giving you the entire day and night, plus tomorrow, to yourself. Previous birthdays had been spent in isolation since your parents passed away. This one was supposed to be different because you had Nanami, yet he seemed to overlook its significance.
As you washed your breakfast dishes, disappointment bubbled up inside you, causing you to grip the sponge tightly. Deciding to put off the chore, you washed your hands and turned your attention to baking a cake for yourself.
Nanami sauntered into the kitchen, nonchalantly lugging three hefty suitcases. Why the hell did he need three massive suitcases? Your boyfriend had become a complete mystery to you. You scowled as he tapped away on his phone, the urge to grab it and fling it off the balcony almost irresistible. What luxury could those three suitcases possibly hold? Perhaps new dresses, shoes, or jewelry for whoever was receiving his relentless texts. With his poker-face, it was impossible to tell if it was a woman on the other end.
“Kento.”
Nanami's head jerked up. “Yes, dar—”
“It's my birthday today,” you finally admitted. Enough was enough. You needed him to know and feel miserable for forgetting it while he was on this supposed business trip. You knew it wasn't merely business. He always took you along on such trips. Business trip, my ass. It was clear he was having an affair. “It's my birthday today, Kento.”
His mouth opened to respond, but the ringing phone interrupted him.
You scoffed at the timing of it all, abandoning the cake mixture in the pan. “Have a safe trip.” You walked past him, slamming the bedroom door shut, and collapsed under the covers, sobbing.
Something chimed persistently in the background, prodding at your temples like a sharp stick, urging you to wake up.
You fumbled around on the mattress, locating your vibrating phone and swiping right, still half-asleep.
“Hello?” you croaked out.
“Oh, thank God!” panted Gojo's voice. “There's an emergency with Nanami, Y/N!”
“What?” You shot up in bed, immediately springing into action.
“We were headed to the airport when he suddenly fell ill and started vomiting!” You listened intently as you hurriedly searched through your closet for your cardigan. “I brought him to your bakery since it was closer.” Nanami did have a spare key to your bakery for emergencies. “He's really not doing well, Y/N. Please come as quickly as you can.”
“I'm on my way, Satoru! Thanks for letting me know. I'll be there in a flash. Keep comforting him and try making him some green tea if possible. I can't find anything—Where did all my clothes go?” You shuffled his suits aside and rummaged through your drawers, finding only a few undergarments but nothing else. “Damn it. Alright, I'll be there soon.”
“Of course. See you soon!”
You pushed aside all distractions and focused solely on Nanami, hastily grabbing your bathrobe to cover your shorts and tank top. Rushing to the elevator, you repeatedly pressed the lobby button, feeling your body tremble with anxiety. Your chin quivered as you bit down on your bottom lip, overwhelmed by guilt. Nanami wasn’t prone to sickness as much as you were, but your cold shoulder must’ve given him a cold. The thought made you despise yourself even more, tears streaming down your face as you hurried along the sidewalk, navigating past cyclists and ignoring the curious stares of passersby.
You entered your bakery, the door pushing open with a jingle. “Kento! Ken—”
Your words halted.
The space was decorated with a multitude of lit candles, casting a warm glow over every surface - the counter, tables, chairs, and bare shelves. A three-tiered vanilla chocolate cake adorned with “Happy Birthday Y/N” in elegant script stood proudly on a table. A trail of fresh rose petals led to a solitary chair facing a makeshift projector screen fashioned from a white bed sheet. On the screen, a paused video titled “Life In Her Eyes” awaited.
With cautious steps, you approached the lone chair, scanning the bakery for any signs of activity but finding none. Nervously, you moistened your lips and reached for the small remote with a note reading “Play me,” before settling into the seat.
With a trembling hand, you pressed play on the three-minute video.
“This is my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N,” Nanami's voice narrated in the video, overlaying a scene where you filmed your boyfriend tossing pebbles into the ocean. “She loves to record every single moment we spent together.” The scene shifted to you capturing Nanami's reaction to Alice Vision in Breaking Dawn Part Two. “She loves feeding me if I’m busy working.” A moment captured where you sat on his lap, sharing a pastry and planting a kiss on his cheek. “She loves sunrises and sunsets.” Your camera focused on Nanami's back against the colorful sky. “She insists I hold every stray cat because apparently, an attractive man with a pet drives her wild." Nanami's expression remained composed as he gently stroked the purring white Siamese.
“It’s the truth,” you muttered, using your arm to wipe away the tears and mucus from your runny nose.
“Y/N loves collecting miniature figurines, plush toys, and vintage trinkets.” In a solo vlog, you showcased your latest shopping haul for Nanami, who was in Shibuya for a board meeting. “All. The. Time.” Vlog after vlog, Nanami gathered them all and edited them into snappy clips. “She has a passion for photographing meals and desserts, whether we dine out, order takeout, or cook at home.” The footage captured you filming your dinner plates and soliciting Nanami's ratings as he munched, nodded, and gave you a thumbs up. When he requested the clips, you didn't think much of it. “I haven't met anyone who cherishes life's little joys quite like Y/N.”
The fast-paced snippets capture moments of you brushing dirt off flowers, generously offering cookies to teens studying in your bakery, crafting a necklace from seashells collected at the beach, attempting an ASMR mukbang with Nanami but ending up laughing too much, sharing your collection of hair ribbons, exploring the streets of Malaysia hand-in-hand on your first abroad trip, playfully filming him exercising and flipping the camera to fan yourself and bite your lip, sharing kisses while painting on the living room floor, and him peacefully asleep with his head resting on your chest—
Suddenly, the screen goes black, displaying the title “Life In My Eyes.”
Wiping away tears, you lean forward eagerly, curious about what other scenes he has in store.
Then, your own face fills the screen, bathed in the warm glow of the golden hour, with fluffy summer clouds behind you. Instantly, you recognize the setting: the cliff in Malaysia where you once spent hours talking. But in this clip, your eyes are closed, and you're facing ahead while Nanami captures your profile.
It switched to a different scene of you peacefully asleep against his chest, wrapped in one of his soft cashmere sweaters.
Then, it transitioned to you busy in the kitchen, a smudge of flour on your cheek and strands of hair escaping from your bun.
Next, it showed you tackling household chores, applying makeup, hurrying around declaring, “We're going to be late for the airport,” or shedding tears during the finale of “Happy Feet 2,” or enjoying a quiet moment reading and jotting notes on your balcony.
“Are you recording me?” Suddenly, a clip appeared of you playing with Sumo, a cat you had instantly fallen in love with at the pet adoption center.
“Yes,” Nanami confirmed.
“Pfft. That's my job,” you replied, returning to playing with Sumo. Nanami awkwardly turned the camera around, unable to find the right function to flip screens, and winked.
Then, it shifted to a dimly lit room illuminated solely by flickering candle lights.
It was your bakery.
You appeared on the screen, seated with your back to the camera. You waved an arm, only to realize it was a live feed.
What the . . . ?
Confused, you turned around to locate the camera, but instead found Nanami. On one knee. Holding a red-suede box containing a diamond ring.
You almost tumbled off your chair in disbelief.
Nanami . . . Nanami was proposing to you.
Your boyfriend . . . soon to be your fiancé.
And you couldn't breathe.
Panic threatened to overwhelm you.
But first, you needed to slip that ring onto your finger and shower him with kisses.
Approaching him, you dropped to your knees, gently holding his face in your hands as you kissed him. Tears mingled with your synchronized lips, memories of his touching video playing in your mind. Life, in your eyes, was simply the joys of it. But in his eyes, life was you. You were his reason for living. And he was your heart, keeping you alive.
You pulled back, nodding silently as he slid the ring onto your finger. You noticed his initials on the inner rim, and a sob choked out of you, quickly sealing the moment with a kiss. His arm encircled your waist as he lifted you up, kissing you passionately. It felt like a soldier returning from battle, your body bending back as his smile widened against your lips. Soon, you would be Mrs. Nanami. Holy cow.
“Happy birthday, darling,” Nanami murmured softly as you tried to catch your breath. He gestured with a finger and walked over to the back of the counter. “Close your eyes for me, my love.”
You shut them tightly, wiping away the tears, and sniffled, taking a deep breath.
“Hold out your hands,” Nanami whispered.
You complied.
Something small, soft, and incredibly fuzzy settled onto your palms.
“Mew.”
Your eyes flew open, and there he was. Sumo. It was Sumo, the kitten who had both you and your boyfriend—fiancé—enchanted with his charm. You whined about adopting him once you left the shelter, but Nanami had been practical and kept the idea aside.
“Is he . . . Is he ours?” you asked, gazing into the feline’s sky-blue eyes.
“He's ours,” Nanami replied with a smile.
“He's—Oh my goodness, I'm going to start crying again.” And indeed, you did cry, holding Sumo tightly against your heart, gazing at the radiant diamond ring on your finger, and observing Nanami wipe away a tear from his eye's inner corner. “Kento, we're getting married!”
“I know, my love.” He planted kisses on your forehead, damp cheeks, and lips. “I can’t breathe,” he whispered, stealing another kiss. “You'll soon be my wife.”
“And you'll be my husband.”
“Such a privilege.”
You chuckled, giving him a quick kiss and wrapping your arm around his waist. Resting your head on his chest, you both admired Sumo staring wide-eyed at his parents. “I don't think I've cried this much since . . . ” You sealed the mention of your parents’ passing with a sigh.
“I broke your heart with my plan,” he rasped out. “And I apologize sincerely for it. Satoru assured me it was foolproof, and regrettably, I trusted his judgment.”
It was no surprise it was his assistant.
“Where is he, by the way?”
“Parked down the block,” Nanami replied, lifting Sumo with his large hands to place him in his carrier. “I've already packed our bags for a trip. I'm taking you to Italy.”
“Huh?”
Nanami was nonchalant as he tidied up around the bakery, extinguishing the candles. “It's just for the weekend. I've spent the past week crafting an itinerary with all your favorite spots and restaurants to visit. You'll love the hotel we're staying at.”
You were about to bombard him with a barrage of questions, but instead, you couldn't help but smile.This was Nanami, after all. He had a knack for surprising you. One minute he'd be showering you with affection, the next he'd be whisking you away to Dubai for a vacation. One minute he'd forget your birthday, and the next he'd be proposing on one knee, presenting you with the cat you'd always wanted and whisking you off to your dream destination.
“—and there's this café that sells the most delicious macaroons—”
You interrupted him by pulling him close, planting a kiss on his lips, and wrapping your arms around him. Nanami eagerly responded, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other cradling the back of your head. When you finally broke apart, breathless, you looked into his hazel eyes and said, “Let's take our time, play with Sumo, and enjoy the cake you baked.”
“How did you know I baked it?”
You shrugged. “Baker's intuition.”
Nanami embraced you, resting his chin on your head. He took a deep breath as if replenishing his oxygen supply. His fingers gently ran through your hair, soothingly rubbing your back. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered as though it were a fleeting thought.
You nuzzled closer to his chest. “I love you too, Kento.”
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jjk nanami#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#kento nanami#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami headcanons#kento x y/n#kento nanami smut#kento x you#kento x reader#jujutsu nanami#jjk imagines#zaraswriting
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The Misread Braid: Part 2
Rating: fluff/angst
Relationship: filixreader
This is part 2...the first part was from an ask; I will link it at the bottom.
Author's note will be at the bottom as well... I don't want to spoil anything.
The next few days were the same. Fili canceled plans, worked late into the night, and ignored you. Ori and Nori, whom you had asked to deliver a letter to him, reported that he wouldn't accept it. Your heart ached, feeling certain that he was upset with you. The rest of the company was unusually quiet—there was no gossip, no tea, no whispers, and no one seemed willing to give you a straight answer. Desperate for information, you decided to seek out Bilbo. You found him in his room, absorbed in a book. After he invited you in for tea, you got straight to the point.
"Bilbo, what's wrong with Fili?" you asked.
"Nice to see you too," Bilbo replied flatly, setting his book aside and putting the kettle on the stove.
"Why is he avoiding me?" you pressed.
"Oh, don't worry about him. Chamomile or green tea?" he asked, shifting the subject.
"Green, please," you said, then added, "But he keeps canceling plans."
"I'd give it some time, Y/N. He's just—oh, whoops, I spilled some water. Can you grab me a towel?" Bilbo said, trying to change the subject.
You stood up to fetch the towel and handed it to him. "He's just what?" you asked.
Bilbo glanced at you quickly before heading to the pantry for cookies. "He's just a little upset right now," he said.
"I know that already. Did I do something wrong?" you asked, feeling anxious.
"Oh no, Y/N," Bilbo said with a half-smile. "Fili wants you to be happy. He's actually happy about your courtship and—"
"Wait, courtship?" you interrupted.
"Yes…" Bilbo looked puzzled.
"What courtship?" you asked.
"The courtship with our friend?" Bilbo clarified.
"I'm not courting my friend! Why would you think that?"
"Your braid? Dwarves court by braiding each other's hair."
"Oh my god," you said, realization dawning. "My friend just braided my hair because I asked them to…not because I'm courting them."
"Really?" Bilbo asked, surprised. "Then why did you invite your friend?"
"Because I thought Fili was going to court me!" you explained.
"He was!" Bilbo exclaimed. Excitement filled the air as you both realized how this misunderstanding could be easily fixed. The gears turn in your head, and you know what to do.
"I gotta go," you yelled, dashing to the door before Bilbo could stop you.
—------------
Racing through the halls toward Fili's room, you were bubbling with excitement. You hadn't realized braiding was part of their courting tradition, and you were eager to talk to Fili.
Knocking at Fili's door, you heard him approach from the other side. When he opened it, you noticed his demeanor change immediately.
"Y/n," he said surprised
"Can I come in? I want to talk," you said, smiling
"I-I'm pretty busy, Y/N." He raised a hand to the nape of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, and started to close the door to keep you from seeing inside.
"Please," you insisted
"Y/n, I told you -
"Fili, who is that?" a voice called from inside.
You froze, stunned, before pushing past him into the room. The scene that greeted you left you speechless—a disheveled room, clothes thrown about, and a half-naked dwarf lying in Fili's bed.
You turned to face Fili, finally noticing the details: his face was sweaty and red, his shirt untucked and half open, and his hair—there it was—a poorly done braid.
"What the fuck?" you demanded.
"Y/N, I can explain," he started, his voice laced with panic.
"What's going on? Fili, who is this?" the dwarf asked, beginning to gather their belongings.
"Get the fuck out!" you screamed, grabbing a shoe and flinging it at the intruder. They scrambled out the door, still in their undergarments.
"Bitch," you heard them mutter as they left.
Fili shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing with a deep red. "I—Y/N, it's not what it looks like."
"It's not?" you said, your anger rising. "Then what is it? Because it certainly looks like you've been getting close with someone else!"
"Oh, that's rich coming from you," he snapped.
"What does that mean" you growled out.
"I saw you with your so-called friend. Congratulations on the courtship," he said bitterly.
"I'm not courting my friend Fili," you screamed
He went silent.
"I'm not being courted," you said again, walking toward him.
"But I saw you two—"
"I didn't realize braiding was a courtship custom for dwarves," you said, tears starting to fall. "I asked them to braid my hair because I thought... I thought you were going to court me. I wanted to look beautiful that night just in case you asked," you added, your voice cracking.
Fili's eyes widened with realization. You undid your braid and handed him the ribbon. There was an eery silence as he looked down at the ribbon. You turned away, unable to look at him.
"Please, Y/N, let me explain," he begged. "I never meant to hurt you. I thought—"
His apology was met with your silent tears. Fili, overwhelmed, wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
Fili cupped your face and kissed you—kisses of desperation and regret. His lips trailed to your cheeks, kissing where your tears had fallen. You felt torn, wanting to kiss him back, to believe this was all a dream, a sick joke, but deep down, you knew it wasn't. You quickly pulled away.
"Y/N, please forgive me," he whispered, his hand gripping yours tightly.
His apology hung in the air as the silence between you grew. You glanced up at Fili one last time before walking away.
"Please," Fili shouted after you, but he knew the damage was done.
------
Author note: I want to apologize...writing this made me cry. I will happily do a part 3 if anyone feels like their heart was being ripped out…cause mine was😭😭
I was listening to "People You Know" by Selena Gomez
First part:
#fili#fili durin#thorins company#x reader#fili x reader#angst#fluff#the hobbit#fanfic#the hobbit an unexpected journey
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(secret) santa, baby - part 6 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic
Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds
part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii
part vi (holiday parties)
Everybody’s been talking about the company holiday party scheduled for Christmas night for a month and a half, and you assumed everybody would settle for that one instead of throwing parties of their own. But based on the number of party invitations that have been dropped on your desk, your coworkers are as over-the-top about holiday parties as they are about everything else. It seems like there’s a party or two every night, work nights included. You’ve gotten at least five invitations, and in your efforts to make friends, you’ve been going to all of them.
So far you’ve done a cookie party, a gingerbread house party, a holiday-themed DIY spa night with your coworkers from the advertising department, karaoke with the PR team, a White Elephant party that scraped up almost everybody and took almost four hours to get through, and one party that was just an eggnog-fueled walk through Yaoyorozu’s ritzy neighborhood, which you have to admit has the prettiest Christmas light displays you’ve ever seen. You can hang in there with the best of them, but you’re getting sort of partied out.
The next invitation arrives while you’re at your desk the day after Yaoyorozu’s party, still trying to shake off the eggnog, and it’s delivered by the last person you’d have expected to care about that kind of thing. “Toga’s having a party,” Shigaraki says without preamble. He drops the invitation down on your desk, next to the pen you got from your Secret Santa. “You’re invited.”
He looks really unhappy about it. It makes you nervous. “Did she tell you to invite me?”
“Where do you think I got this?” Shigaraki gestures at it with one hand, and you notice that his skin looks less irritated than it did the last time you saw him. He must be using the hand cream, and the feeling of accomplishment that settles around you is almost enough to cut the nerves of this conversation. “Can you go to the party or not?”
You study the invitation. “A pajama party?”
“She just means not work clothes,” Shigaraki says. He scratches lightly at his neck. “We just eat and hang out and watch Christmas movies. Nothing weird.”
“Other than you watching Christmas movies,” you say. He glances at you, then looks away. “I thought you hated this stuff.”
“There are drinks, too. That helps.”
You’re kind of maxed out on Christmas drinks. You glance at the invitation. It’s for tomorrow, which isn’t a work night, and you don’t have anything planned. Toga’s been nice to you. If it’s Toga’s party and she’s inviting her friends, Spinner and Twice will be there, and they’ve been nice to you, too. You might not know Dabi or Magne or Compress very well, but you think you can probably avoid bothering them if you’re careful. There’s not a reason to say no – except the reason that’s standing in front of you, waiting with increasing irritation for you to reply. “Well?”
“Do you want me to go?” you ask, and Shigaraki stares at you. “If you’re only inviting me because Toga’s making you –”
“That’s not what I said,” Shigaraki says. He looks even more annoyed than he did a second ago, but there’s color coming up in his face. You wonder if that’s what you looked like when you were singing a Christmas song to ward off the carolers. “Can you go or not?”
“Um –” If you say yes, he’ll stop staring at you like that. And you still need to make friends. “Yes. Tell Toga I’m looking forward to it.”
Shigaraki nods once and stalks off, probably headed straight back to the basement. You study Toga’s invitation a little more carefully. There’s a list of movies on it that looks pretty good, and it says you’re not supposed to bring anything except yourself, your pajamas, and an ugly sweater if you have one. It sounds like a quieter party than the ones you’ve been going to, and it’s not a work night tomorrow, so there’s no reason for you to feel anxious about it. Is there?
“Hey!” Ashido’s peering over the wall of her cubicle into yours. “Did I hear that right? Shigaraki left the dungeon just to ask you out?”
Your face goes up in flames. “He didn’t ask me out. He was just dropping off an invitation to Toga’s party. She must have asked him –”
“That’s not what he said,” Hakagure says, leaning out of her cubicle across the way to stare at you. “You assumed Toga asked him to ask you, but he didn’t agree.”
“And we know Toga usually hand-delivers her invitations,” Ashido continues, “because Uraraka got one. Right, Uraraka?”
“I went last year, too,” Uraraka says. “It’s different, but it’s okay. They’re all a lot different when they’re not at work.”
Uraraka’s going, too. Knowing that eases your mind a little bit. And knowing that they’re different than they are at work is a positive. You think. Given that ‘what Shigaraki’s like at work’ is a category broad enough to include just about every behavior somebody can exhibit without getting fired, you’ve really got no idea what he could possibly be like in his off hours. In twenty-four hours and change, you’re going to find out.
You try not to think about what Ashido and Hagakure said, but it lurks at the edges of your thoughts overnight and into the next day, and by the time you’re knocking on the door to Toga’s apartment, you can’t ignore it any longer. He didn’t say Toga told him to ask you. He also didn’t say he didn’t want you to go. In your observations of Shigaraki, you’ve never seen him be shy about saying what he doesn’t like. If he didn’t want you to go, you’d have known about it. Which means he does want you to be here. Why does he want to see you outside of work? Is he really ��
“You came!” The door opens in your face, startling you out of your thoughts, and Toga pulls you inside before you can get your bearings entirely. “Tomura-kun said he needed an invitation for you, but we didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. I’m so glad you’re here!”
“He went through with it? Damn.” Dabi appears around the corner. If you’d been trying to predict his outfit for a pajama party, you wouldn’t have picked an actual pajama set, which is what he’s wearing. “I hope you like lame-ass Christmas horror movies, because that’s what we’re watching first.”
“There are Christmas horror movies?”
“Oh yeah! Lots of them!” Twice also has a pajama set. His comes with a hat on it. “We have to watch at least one every year so Shigaraki won’t get up and leave when we try to watch Home Alone or Elf.”
“And this year we had to have two horror movies,” Magne adds. She’s in the kitchen, mixing drinks. “It’s the only way we can get him to sit through Love Actually.”
“How do you pick the movies?” you ask. Magne hands you a drink, then shoos you towards the living room, which is a sea of couches and beanbag chairs. “Does everybody pick?”
“We always do Nightmare Before Christmas, since we can all agree on that one,” Spinner says. He’s already sitting down, and his idea of pajamas looks a lot more like yours – sweatpants, sweater, both sort of old. “Then we put all the others on a corkboard and play darts to pick.”
He points over to one wall, and sure enough, you can see a corkboard covered in darts and tiny pieces of paper. “Anybody who’s invited can suggest one.”
“One of mine made it this year,” Uraraka says brightly. “Die Hard.”
“You could have added one, too, if somebody hadn’t waited so long to invite you –”
“Give it a rest,” Shigaraki says, and you jump. You almost didn’t notice him, settled in like he is at one corner of the couch with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his hair. “Take one of my picks. So you won’t have to watch a bunch of things you hate.”
“Oh, that’s okay –”
“No,” Shigaraki says. He sits up and his hood falls down. “Pick something.”
“Pick something,” Twice agrees, edging past you to plop down on the couch next to Shigaraki. “Save us from the gremlins. I can’t watch the microwave scene again.”
“No, we should keep the gremlins. I don’t want to watch that Krampus thing,” Toga complains. “It looks so gross and weird –”
“We only have one movie that’s off-limits,” Spinner says. “It’s –”
“The Grinch,” you say, and Spinner gives you a surprised look. “Let me think for a second.”
“Sit down while you’re thinking about it,” Magne advises, reaching over the back of the couch to shove Twice towards the middle and free up the space next to Shigaraki. Is that where you’re supposed to sit? “Go on.”
You sit down, careful not to spill your drink, and think through the list of Christmas movies you know. You don’t want to pick something they’ll hate – or something Shigaraki will hate, given that he’s the one who invited you – and the only thing you have to go on is that they all like Nightmare Before Christmas. Hasn’t Tim Burton done another Christmas movie? You take a sip of your drink, which is thankfully not eggnog, to jog your memory. “What about Edward Scissorhands?”
“Never seen that one,” Dabi muses. “Spinner. Get rid of the gremlins and add it to the lineup.”
You haven’t seen it in forever. Hopefully it’s not bad, and hopefully everybody drinks enough by then that they don’t care whether it’s good or not. As Spinner screws around with the TV and everyone else starts looking for spots to sit, you turn your attention to Shigaraki. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Letting me pick one,” you say.
Shigaraki shrugs. The two of you are sitting close enough that his shoulder brushes against yours. “It’s not a big deal. I knew you wouldn’t pick the Grinch.”
“I know a Grinch-free zone when I’m in one,” you say, and Shigaraki’s scarred mouth pulls up slightly at one corner. You can’t imagine him smiling like that at work, and you don’t know how you feel about it. “Thanks for inviting me to this, too.”
“Toga didn’t make me,” Shigaraki says. “It was my idea. Just so you know.”
He was holding your gaze at first. When he says that, he looks away, and you don’t try to make him look back. You face front and wait for Toga to start the movie, and when Magne sits down on the couch, you scoot just a little closer to Shigaraki to make room. It reminds you of high school in some sense you can’t put your finger on, some way you’re not ready to look at too closely. But there are five movies in the queue for Toga’s holiday party. You’ve got a long time tonight to figure it out.
<- part v part vii ->
#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x you#tomura shigaraki x reader#tomura shigaraki x you#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura x you#x reader#reader insert#man door hand hook car door#secret santa au
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
××《☆》××
××《☆》××
You can't deny beauty, so don't do it at all. Some time is spent at the beach with a boy you're trying to quietly reject. Begging, though pitying, looks good on our one-eyed boy.
===
Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: boys being boys (ft. grown ass men), swearing, sl?!t shaming, bullying, smoking, angsty-er than normal
Also, another reference, now from the show Normal People and the movie (500) Days of Summer
===
Song: Salvatore by Lana Del Rey
(For some reason, I can't display it. Sorry about the technical difficulties.)
===
Chapter seven: Salvatore
===
I walk the unfamiliar streets of the town, only now headed this way. I was instructed by my mother to pick something up from a lady's house this morning, specifically a box of sweets.
It was delivered to the wrong address, and my mother got in contact with the company, which gave her the contact number of the address they gave it to, and the two women made arrangements.
I look up at the plain white door with embedding, knocking on it gently. I hear footsteps from inside, then the door opens with a creak.
"Good morning, ma'am. I was sent by my mother, Julliete Pardine." The woman smiles down at me, the elevation of her house making her taller.
"You must be Y/N. Come on in." She ushers me inside, opening the door wider. I take careful steps on the stairs, eyeing my feet to not fall and embarrass myself. Looking up was something I regret.
In all his glory, after being completely ignored for two weeks, Joseph Descamps stands in front of a drawer and mirror, eye wide open, mouth parted slightly, and looking as pretty as he always did.
I get snapped out of my trance when the woman, now I know as Mrs. Descamps, hands me the box of cookies.
"Now, Y/N, where do you study? I hope I'm not making you late this morning." I turn my focus to her, ignoring the butterflies wanting to escape my stomach through my throat.
"You're not. I study at Voltaire." Mrs. Descamps' eyes widen like her sons, and she smiles a bright smile.
"Oh, what a coincidence. My son goes there, too. Maybe you could walk each other. It's always good for a girl your age to have some company when walking the streets. Maybe you already know each other?" She glances at her son, nodding her head towards me. I look at Joseph, and something reminds me of a promise I made him before.
We're sitting on my bed, writing some notes for Maths. Joseph's voice comes alive.
"Hey, what do you think will happen to us in college?" I look up from my paper, eyeing Joseph steadily.
"What kind of question is that? You're thinking about college already?" I don't mention the fact that he's thinking about us two when talking about what'll happen.
"Well, you know, since schools are mixing boys and girls now, and it's going pretty well, so in college, it might be continued. I just wanna know if we'll still be... friends." I scoff slightly, letting go of my pencil to reach for his free hand.
"Joseph, let me assure you we'll still be friends. I promise." Joseph looks at me, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips. I tilt my head in worry.
"But... what if we don't end up in the same college? And when you're with your new friends, then you see me, you'll act like you never knew who I was?" I scan his face, his beautiful face, biting gently on my bottom lip. I caress his hand with my thumb.
"I would never act like I don't know you." I say in a whisper. He doesn't say anything after that, collecting my words somehow.
"Can you promise that, too?" I smile gently at him, lifting his hand up to my lips, kissing his rough knuckles.
"I promise."
I would've never thought what might happen in college happens so soon.
So when I look at him, all I can think about is his soul, and that even in a matter of weeks, it's filled me whole.
"Yes. We know each other." I look at Mrs. Descamps again, and her face lights up brighter than before.
Her son looks like her. The way both their eyes wrinkle a bit under when they smile, the way their cheeks shows lines, and the way their eyes light up. I barely see that in him anymore. And the last time I did, it was with me.
"Good. He shall walk you to school this morning." She walks to her son now, grabbing his arm to drag him closer to me. I don't look him in the eye, my heart still aching from the afternoon in the alley.
I can sense him tilting his head, brows etched in worry and body leaning towards me. He feels so warm even from far away. I want him closer.
"Anyways, I made you a sandwich for lunch. I know what food's like at school." Mrs. Descamps tells her son. I look at her now petite image, even more small when standing next to her child. Well, if he even is a child anymore.
"Thanks." He replies simply, head down. I try my best not to hold him like I used to. To ask him what's wrong.
"I saw the ophthalmologist. He thinks it's time." I furrow my eyebrows, not sure what type of doctor that is.
"Oh, yeah?" Fuck. Why'd he have to say it like that? Butterflies fill my stomach again. Not here. Not infront of his mom, for fucks sake.
"They've made great strides." She ruffles his hair. Damn, I used to do that. I miss it. "They can match your eye colour exactly now. You can't tell the difference."
"Have you ever seen someone with a glass eye? One eye moves, the other doesn't." Oh, so that's what this is about.
His mother cups his face. "My son is not a pirate. You'll be handsome again." I speak before I think.
"Your son is handsome." They turn their heads to me, and I flush in embarrassment. I finally look at Joseph, and there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed like mine, and he searches my face.
"Well, I'm glad you think so. But I think he should get it anyway. The mother knows best, like they say." Joseph doesn't even turn his head to his mother's direction. He doesn't even hear her. All he's looking at is me, and I can't find myself to look away.
"Well," I stutter out, looking to Mrs. Descamps. "It was nice to meet you. See you soon, ma'am." She smiles at me, rubbing my shoulder gently.
"Would you like to come to dinner tonight? I'm making a roast." Before I could answer, Joseph does it for me.
"Mama-" I cut him off. "Yes. Sure, ma'am. I'll come for dinner." I say, placing the box of cookies in my satchel. She laughs in glee.
"Alright! That's settled then. Now get going, or your teachers will have a field day with you two." She ushers us to the front door, closing the it once we're outside. I glance at him for a second, then start walking in a fast pace.
"Y/N!" He calls out.
"Oh, first name basis again? Didn't know we were that close." I say, Joseph catching up to my side.
"Please, I can explain. Let me." I scoff, disbelief in my face.
"No, thanks. Go have some fun with your girlfriend." I try to walk faster, but he catches up anyway.
"She's not my girlfriend, I swear. Y/N, please. You're killing me here." His voice cracks in desperation, and it takes all my strength not to stumble from my suddenly shaky legs.
"Good." He whimpers. Fucking whimpers. Holy shit, please give me strength.
"Y/N. Please. Just, please." I slow down a bit, pitying him.
"You have one minute." I face him, crossing my arms.
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Ex then?" He shakes his head profusely.
"No. I don't even know her. She just came up to me and started getting all over me."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Please do. Because I swear on my life, Y/N, I would never do that to you."
"But you did. You did when you were talking shit about me to your friends. You did when you let her get all over you." He doesn't speak, and my throat goes dry.
"Exactly. So don't even fucking talk." I turn around and walk away, tears pooling my eyes. I can't believe him. I can't believe me.
××《☆》××
I stand next to Simone in front of the gate, tapping my foot against the gravel.
"What are we doing here again?" I ask, seeing Simone bite her lip in anxiety.
"We're waiting for-" Simone cuts herself off, shouting for Michèle. I walk towards the both of them.
"Michèle, it's been weeks. How long will you be mad?" I delay behind them, trying to give both girls privacy.
"How long have you been seeing my brother behind my back?" Oh. So they got together. I'm happy for Simone, though I already had an idea, but this was the moment she was dreading to come.
They get through the gate. "I wanted to tell you." Simone explains.
Michèle only glances at her. "You played me for a fool."
It's worrying to see both my closest friends argue because you don't know whether or not they'll recover and stay friends.
"It wasn't like that." Simone breaks my thoughts.
"Does he know about Alain?" Michèle says, seemingly angry if her brother did know.
"Of course not. I never told him anything you shared with me." Simone flushes. "If he knew anything, you'd have known about it." They stop walking. I keep my distance.
"I never said it was Jean Pierre, but the rest was true." Someone calls out for Michèle.
"I miss our talks." That was the last thing Simone said before Michèle got dragged away by some girls.
I walk up to Simone, smiling slightly.
"So..." I pause, looking up at her. "Jean Pierre?"
This gets her so smile a bit, red covering her cheeks.
"Yeah." She tucks her hair behind her ear, and I can't help but giggle at her antic.
"He was Eugène the whole time?" I question. She looks at me with even more red on her cheeks.
"I knew it." We both giggle in our girlish nature as we head inside the school.
××《☆》××
Two beeps are heard outside the gate of Voltaire, and I rush down the ramp. I accidentally bumped into someone, and I say a quick apology. I glance behind me, having to do a double take at the one-eyed boy. I look away quickly, walking to Callum's car.
"Pretty girl." Callum hands me a bouquet of pink tulips, and I smile at the sight of it, forgetting about Joseph for a second. Just a second.
"Where are we headed?" I ask, thanking Callum for opening the passenger's door for me.
"The beach. There's a car meet I was invited to take some photos of. Do you mind?" He opens up the roof, letting the wind outside and the heat hit us.
"No. Don't mind at all. Let's get going." He smiles at me simply, and I fail to notice some things he brought on the back of his car.
The drive to the beach was comfortably quiet, wind messing our hair up, the smell of salt and soil filling our senses.
From up the hill, I see the mounds of cars on the white sand below. I smile at the sight, ready for Callum's lovely rambling of all the different cars.
Callum once again opens my door for me, even rolling on the hood of the car for comedic action. It works, and I laugh at him. All he does is smile, offering his hand out for support.
The rest of the afternoon was spent taking photos of the cars, some of which he asked me to model for him again. I did so, adding some fun with the comfortable aura that surrounded both of us.
We moved the car to an area further from the meet, deciding to go out for a swim. I unfortunately wasn't ready for the trip, not bringing any swimwear, so Callum wastes no time to go to the shops behind us, telling me to get a new pair. He even paid for it, then waited for me to come out.
In Callum fashion, we took more pictures. We went for a swim, him wearing no top and just a pair of shorts. It didn't feel awkward around him. It felt so natural, like I'd known him longer than I do.
So when we finished playing in the salty water, and the sun was setting, we settled down on the mat to watch it.
"Y/N?" I turn my head to him, humming in response.
I see him fidget with his fingers. "I've known you for a while now, and in the time I've known you, it's been the best time of my life."
I get a sense of anxiety in him, so I grab his hand, and it feels familiar to a moment I shared with someone else. I push that thought down.
"Callum, talk to me. Is there something wrong?" He looks up at me, adoration in his brown doe eyes. I've seen that look before. Suddenly the smell of the ocean is suffocating me.
"Y/N, I love you. Nothing will ever change that." I breathe in a shaky breath. "I love that you care and that you're just effortlessly an amazing person." Tears pool under his eyes, and I cup his cheeks as they fall, wiping them away. He cups that hand with his.
"You're amazing, and I would never wanna lose you. I don't want to let you go." He pauses, and I await his next words. "But I have to."
I furrow my brows, wondering what he meant. I nod at him to go on.
"You love him. It's so clear that I'm surprised you don't even know it." My mind blanks.
"And it's completely fine. You don't have to worry about me, because if you'll let me, I'll stay, and I'll love you while you love him." He sniffles, and my heart breaks for him.
The sky is orange, with pinks and blues popping out through some clouds. The ocean waves crash against the white sand, foam popping as it loops back. I can hear our hearts beating, our breaths shaking, and our skin grasping at the other.
"Callum, please don't hate me." He chuckles, kissing the inside of my hand.
"I could never hate you, pretty girl." Tears seep out of my eyes as it did his, and he hushes me, pulling me in his bare chest, caressing my back as I sob apologies to him.
It goes on for a while, and we sit there, the sun gone, cars revving in the distance, waves crashing, seagulls squawking, the moon shining on our bodies, and tears as salty as the sea.
When we pull away, he cups my face and stares. He stares at me with a smile, his broken heart still beating. And I look at him like he's a saint. And he is.
We don't talk on the way home, still a comfortable silence between us. As we stop walking infront of my flat, he says something to break the long silence.
"Still up for tomorrow?" I nod. I had told him this morning that I had some errands to run. He agreed to take me around town. I'm glad he still wants to come through.
Before he walks away and disappears around the corner, I call out for him. He turns around, hand in his pockets.
"You know I love you too, right?" He smiles that sweet smile. I can't help but do the same. He walks back to me slowly, cupping my cheek like he did in the beach.
"I know." He whispers, leaning in to kiss my forehead, lingering. He pulls away, still smiling, and walks away for good.
I get in my flat, closing the door and looking at George.
"I don't wanna talk about it." He meows. I lift him up to go cuddle in my room.
××《☆》××
The next day goes through smoothly. Callum picks me up at the end of the day. We stopped by my flat first, and I picked George up, deciding to finally take him out of the house.
The first stop was the pharmacy, and the person I've been dreading to see was there. I asked Callum if he needed anything, and all he does is shake his head. I open the door with George in hand, standing eye to eye with the taller boy.
"Descamps." I say in greeting. He's heaving, eye scanning my frame like he always does. I purse my lips, greeting the pharmacist. The pharmacist greets George, seeing I've brought him around from time to time. George was basically a regular here.
"Pardine." He greets, but his voice shivers. I almost ask him what's wrong, 'till I remember.
George wriggles out of my arms and into his. He loses his balance a bit, regaining it as he holds George like a baby, like he did before. Fuck, I miss him.
"Hello, George." He smiles softly at the cat, and I can't help but melt internally. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. He's holding him so gently, and my heart pound in my chest. Hard.
I grab my things from the pharmacist, thanking them quietly before trying to get George. He growls at me, and I stare at him in shock. Joseph looks up at me. When I look at him, I don't look away immediately.
"I can take him to your car." He says in an almost whisper, turning his head down. He's so shy, and I just want to hold him.
Before we could get out, Michèle goes through the door of the pharmacy. I smile at her gently, greeting her a hi. She greets me back. I wait for her, wlaking with her outside.
"Laubrac, what a surprise." She says, and I roll my eyes at her. She looks at me sheepishly, making a pointed look at Joseph. I understand the sign.
"Did you plan to meet here?" I wave at Laubrac, and he smiles, cigarette in between his fingers.
"What are you doing here?" Joseph asks Laubrac as he eyes the boy up and down, the shy demeanourhe had with me long gone. George is still in hand, but now he carries him with one arm.
"My parents' butcher shop isn't far." Michèle cuts in. "I have to go, or my mom will kill me. See you at school." She bids off to the three of us.
"Aren't you working with your chickens today?" Joseph asks Laubrac, and I glare at his rudeness. He doesn't notice.
"Even farmhands get time off." Laubrac answers simply. There's a pause.
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Laubrac walks off now, leaving me and Joseph infront of the alley.
"Let's just go." I walk to Callum, seeing him smoking a cigarette in the car, window opened slightly. He spots the two of us and unlocks the door. Joseph's quick to open it for me, and I just look at him, flushing at the gesture.
"Thanks." I whisper, ducking my head to get seated. Joseph crouches down, kissing George's head, and placing him on my lap.
"Joseph. Long time no see." Callum raises a hand in greeting, throwing the dead cigarette out his open window.
"Callum. Saw you pick her up yesterday. Where were you guys headed?" Joseph raises a brow, some sort of annoyance in his voice.
"Took her to the beach to a car meet. Did some swimming, she learnt something about me, and I told her something about herself." Callum puts simply.
Joseph doesn't like his answer. "Told her something about herself, huh?"
Callum notices his tone and chuckles. "Yeah. Something she needed to set straight. You know, something she knows deep down, but she's not doing anything about it." Joseph's gripping hard on the door handle, his knuckles going white.
"And what would that be?" Callum smiles at him.
"Can't tell you. Only she can. Actually, you can probably help her out with it. I'm sure you're feeling the same way she does." That's when I whip my head to face the boy, face as red as a ferrari, heart beating faster than a race car. Sorry, Callum's rambling is affecting me.
"Yeah? What's she feeling? I doubt that it's anything bad, considering that's not how I feel about her." Joseph looks at me, leaning against his now crossed arms in the window shield. With both boys' attention on me, my breathing hollows.
"It's nothing. Bye, Descamps." Callum chuckles, getting the car to start, then beeping it at Joseph as a goodbye. Once we're far away enough, I hit Callum on the shoulder.
"What was that for?" I scream out, embarrassment flooding off of me. Callum won't stop laughing.
"Oh, come on. You two knuckleheads should just get together! You're so obviously in love." I groan, covering my face with my hands. George meows at me.
"I can't believe you, Callum."
"Plus, summer's in a few. You're gonna have to tell him before you leave." Shit. Summer. Paris. I haven't told him yet.
"Fuck. I hate that you're right." I think for a while. "But we're still on bad terms!"
"You just want to be on bad terms because you don't wanna confront him about it. I can see, very clearly, actually, how much you guys want to be together."
His response makes the gears in my head turn. He's right, I admit it. But how do I tell him? When? Where?
Then I remember the girl, and he'll probably forget about me before I even leave. He won't notice that I'm gone.
So, now that I think about it, it won't be so hard. So why can't I bring myself to be relieved? As if I want it to be hard. For him to beg for me not to leave. Not to go. Not to move.
Because if I do, I'll forget about him. But I could never forget him, no matter how hard I try. Because he's Joseph Descamps, the boy who I love too much for my own good. The boy with one eye. The boy I think about when looking at the future. The boy that will always stay in my mind, heart, and soul.
It'll be easy. If not for me, for him. He'll fall in love with some girl, marry her, live with her, have a family with her, grow old with her. Then I'll just be there, thinking about him day and night, counting the endless possibilities and what ifs.
And if I had just realised earlier, told him earlier, loved him earlier, then maybe, just maybe, I'd be happy.
That's not the case. Not now, not ever. And I'll have to live with that 'till the day I die, with him in mind.
××《☆》××
There was a test that morning. Laubrac came in late. We finished the test. The day ends. It was simple. Quiet. But, chaos came in an errand again.
Joseph walks into the butchers, and I internally gape at the sight of him. He's so, so beautiful. I think I might cry. I can't even describe how beautiful he looks right now. I wish I could kiss that patch again. Cup his face with my hands again. Brush his hair, hold his hand, and feel his lips on mine.
The store is quiet, and customers look at the walking image of beauty, including Michèle's mother. She calls out for her husband.
I just stare at Joseph. He doesn't notice I'm there, fully focused on the couple.
"I hear the Magnan's like to sleep with foreigners and thugs." I furrow my eyebrows, frustrated at the juncture.
"You're the only thug here." I keep my eyes on Joseph, trying to figure out his next move.
"The thug is that foster kid sleeping with your fifteen year old daughter." Joseph answers. I purse my lips disappointedly.
"You didn't know?" He says, acting all innocent. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Your son's too busy fooling around with a foreign girl to warn you."
What the actual fuck. What's gotten into him?
"Get out!" Mrs. Magnan says. "It's all lies. Lies!"
He chuckles, and why the fuck is it so attractive?
"Really? If it was, you wouldn't be so upset."
He has a point there, but it's still an asshole thing to do.
"You little shit." Mr. Magnan mumbles.
"Say hi to Jean Pierre for me."
"I'll teach you a lesson!" Mr. Magnan shouts as he walks to the exit, but I beat him to it.
I walk up hurriedly to Joseph, pulling at his shoulder to face me.
"What the fuck was that?" I shout, anger pounding jn my veins.
"It's true, and you know it. Why are you so angry?" He says as if it's simple.
"They're my friends, Joseph! Why the fuck wouldn't i be upset about it?" I push his chest.
"Back to first name basis, Y/N? Go back to your boyfriend and talk about those feelings of yours." This makes my hear shatter against my chest.
"For the last time, he isn't my boyfriend."
"Why does it seem that way, huh? Do you like leading people on? Should've known. Went through it anyway!" He starts to walk away.
"You go back to your girlfriend, asshole!" He turns around and flips me off.
I fight the urge not to just sob in the middle of the street. Unbeknownst to me, he feels the same, too.
××《☆》××
I received a call in the house as soon as I get home. I pick it up, wiping the tears on my cheeks.
"Hello?" I try to hide the shake in my voice.
"Y/N, darling? This is Mrs. Descamps." Shit. Worst timing.
"Oh, good afternoon, ma'am. Is there something wrong?" I ask, worry etching my voice.
"Well, I meant to ask if you were still coming tonight. But there's also something else I wanna talk about." I furrow my brows, sniffling a bit.
"Um, sure, I'll still go." I shut my eyes in regret. I should've said no. "What is it you want to talk about?"
"Well, Joseph came home a bit gloomy. He hasn't come out of his room, and whenever I ask him what's wrong, he just tells me off. I'm worried, you know, as a mother is, and I was wondering if anything happened at school." My heart aches for the woman.
"Well, to be honest, ma'am, I think it's better if you ask him. I don't want to say anything I'm not supposed to."
"Oh, well, that's alright." There's a lace of disappointment in her voice. "Well, I'll see you later, darling. Come by 7 or later." We bid each other goodbye and hang up.
I put my pearl necklace on, the item in contrast with my red dress. It's quite formal, but that's what you wear for dinner, right? There's a semi-big bow on the back, wrapped around my waist like a present.
Time passes as I get ready. The whole time, my heart pounded in my chest. I'd have to see him again. Talk to him. And after that argument.
So when I arrive and knock on the door, and Joseph answers, my heart stops its beating.
Thankfully, Mrs. Descamps ushers me in her home once again, and we're at the dinner table, eating silently. Well, just Mrs. Descamps really. Me and Joseph don't touch our food, keeping our head down.
"Something wrong with the food, children?" Mrs. Descamps says, and I'm quick to dismiss the idea, not wanting her to feel down about it.
"There's nothing wrong with the food, ma'am. I just... I ate a bit before coming here." I take a hold of her hand, reassuring her.
"Oh, that makes sense." She grabs her sons hand. "What about you, my angel? You haven't eaten anything when you got home."
I glance at him in worry, his eye catching me. We put our heads down at the same time.
"Just no appetite, Mama." He purses his lips at her.
"I hope you're not mad about earlier. I won't make you get the glass eye anymore." She looks at me again, a mischievous smile on her face. "At least Y/N here thinks you're beautiful." I flush at the mention of the incident, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.
"Good. That's the only opinion that matters." He whispers to himself, but I heard it clear.
"So," Mrs. Descamps drops both our hands and gets back to eating. I start on my plate, too. "Is there something you two want to tell me?"
I blush profusely. "What do you mean, Mrs. Descamps?"
"Well, there's obviously something between you two." Mrs. Descamps shrugs. Joseph calls his mother out, and I flush even more in my seat.
"Okay, just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't know what love looks like. Me and your father-"
"Mama, please stop." Joseph groans through his hands, Mrs. Descamps laughing at her son.
"Okay, fine. I'll talk to you later." Mrs. Descamps winks at her child, then suddenly, the air isn't so suffocating anymore.
When dinner ends, Mrs. Descamps makes Joseph walk me out. We're outside their house now.
"She doesn't know about your girlfriend?" I put simply, not letting him know my heart is in shambles. He rolls his eye at me, and I have a feeling it'll make his head ache soon.
"She's not my girlfriend." I hear feet pattering against the dark cobble stone street. I turn my head, and there she was. The girl we were just talking about.
"Well, she doesn't think that." I observe her nice puffy dress, jewellery shining from the moonlight, her hair done up. She even has a bit of makeup on. I smile at her, turning back to Joseph, but not looking in his eyes.
"I called her to meet here." Joseph states, and I chuckle. He seems to have gotten what it was I was chuckling about. Tears rim my eyes in frustration.
"It's not what it seems like-" I quickly cut him off, passing by the girl in a hurry.
I hear him call out my name, and I almost trip at the desperation of it. He's always giving off the idea that he wants me, but in the end, I realise I'm in a loophole and I'm finally aware I've been a fool.
I hate Joseph. I hate his toothy smile. I hate his messy ash hair. I hate his towering frame. I hate the dirt colour eyes he has. I hate the way he walks fast with his long legs.
Fuck. Why does it always end like this? I always say I hate him, then I don't, then, like a loop, I do. When will it end? When will I finally decide how I feel?
For now, it's all his fault. It's his fault for making me feel this way. His fault for being so pretty it hurts. His fault for being so... so... Fuck.
Just plain fuck.
××《☆》××
End- Chapter seven: Salvatore
Next- Chapter eight: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph
××《☆》××
DONE W THIS CHAPTER AND ONLY 3 MORE CHAPTERS TO GO!!! We've come so far and my heart hurts for the both of them but it's part of the process. To all the Callum haters, I told u guys u would regret hating on him. We love Callum and I don't accept the hate. So guys love him pls he needs it. Anwww happy reading (not so happy this chapter is pure angst)
#joseph descamps#joseph descamps x reader#mixte1963#michèle magnan#simone palladino#jean pierre magnan#alain laubrac#enemies to lovers#fanfic#reader insert#angst#cars#salvatore#lana del rey#one sided love#rejection
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Bittersweet
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fe5857b38d230e6b8229724b22c5591e/a36725fe7b4663bf-66/s400x600/bc0439ee5d59b805967f41320e52df7a72c4f673.jpg)
A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar:
🍧Cookie Dough: bakery au – cookie dough proves that a bit of baking can make anything better. Your characters now live in a bakery au, whether they work there, or come as customers, they can’t resist the sweet aura.
🍧Birthday Cake: secret admirer – it doesn’t have to be your birthday to have this flavour. And your secret admirer leaves you gifts every day, but just won’t give you the one thing you desperately want: their identity.
🥄Graham Crackers: flashback – a brief trip into the past reveals something important.
Warnings: Coercion, Stalking. Please let me know if I missed any!
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There was a time when you really enjoyed going to work. Your bakery wasn't massively successful but it did well enough. The regulars kept you in business and you were able to attract the occasional crowd with seasonal recipes. You loved baking and you loved that you could try new things along with the tried and true. Even with the protection money you had to pay out, you were still able to turn a small profit.
As much as you hated it, you had to admit they did keep things relatively safe. The grocer across the street had gotten robbed and not only had the person been caught, the store owner received all of their money back with a bonus for the employee who'd been working the register. Store owners who get the runaround from their insurance companies just have to tell the right people to get the fixes and payouts they need. So while you hated having additional expenses, at least you knew it wasn't going to waste.
But then you started getting gifts delivered to you at the bakery. Practically every day, for the past few months, you've been getting gifts of all sorts. It was cute and fun at first. A charm bracelet with a bunch of baking based charms, a small bouquet of flowers. But the,n the gifts started getting more and more personal. A book that had been on your wishlist forever but you never told anyone about, a dress in your favorite colors that fit you perfectly. You started dreading stepping into the bakery.
The small box is on your desk and you take a breath to steady your nerves before opening it. Given the packaging it could be a book. Given the way the gifts have been going, it's likely a book of photos of you. You slowly unwrap the gift and you're proven partially correct. It's a framed drawing of you, asleep in your room. It's definitely your room. All the details are painfully correct. Someone was in your home watching you sleep.
As much as you want to drop everything and cry, there is work to be done. You've got bills and employees to pay. On top of that, it's time for the quarterly protection payment. Maybe you can ask the “agent” you regularly meet up with to keep an eye out for the secret admirer. You fill up the manila envelope with the payments and head to the kitchen to get things started.
The routine is comforting. Cookies, small cakes, pastries, you could probably make these in your sleep. It does help when your employees start trickling in and taking over some of the tasks. The shop is running like a well-oiled machine and you're able to forget about the unsettling drawing in your office.
A little before time to open, there's a knock at the front. You recognize the woman, Nat, as the one who collects the payments. You quickly run up and let her in. She seems especially chatty this morning.
“Hey, did you stop wearing that charm bracelet?”
“Oh, yeah,” you reply sadly. “It's actually something I was hoping to talk to you about.” As you step into the office you hand her the envelope with the payment before pointing to the picture. “My secret admirer has gotten more and more creepy, like a stalker. It's really scaring me.”
She looks at the drawing, “they're certainly talented.”
“Oh yes,” you agree quickly, “but that's not the point. That's my room. No one has been in my room for...long enough. There've been other gifts that feel way too personal for a stranger to know. Hell, even friends of mine wouldn't know!”
Tears start forming in your eyes and Nat quickly starts trying to soothe you. “We'll look into this,” she promises. “I'll have answers for you by the end of the week.”
You nod and thank her before she leaves and you get back to work, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of the day.
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“Excuse me, miss?”
You pause on your way to your car and turn towards the source of the voice. You recognize the man, Sam, as another “agent” like Nat. “Can I help you?”
“I've been asked to bring you to The Shield for dinner. We have some answers about your secret admirer.”
“Oh, what, um, what time?”
“Now,” he replies as he motions to his car.
“But I'm not dressed for The Shield. I'm covered in flour from work. I smell--”
“Now,” Sam repeats. His tone leaves no room for argument. Your hands shake as you put your keys in your purse and sit in the passenger seat of Sam's vehicle.
The Shield is a very high-end restaurant that's known to be a favorite of Barnes, the man in charge of the Protection for your neighborhood. You're not sure why he would need to see you in person. Did you overstep when you asked Nat for help? Do they need to start charging you more because of it? Can you afford the increase?
“You'll be okay,” Sam assures. “He just wants to talk to you over dinner.”
“I don't think I can afford the meal.”
He chuckles, “it's on us. He's making you come to dinner with him, the least he can do is pay for your meal.”
You nod your understanding. At least that's something you don't have to worry about.
At the restaurant, Sam leads you past the hostess and straight to, what you can only assume to be, a VIP area. Tables are set inside of nooks, some cordoned off by curtains to promote privacy.
One of the tables is occupied by two very different looking men. One of them is big and tall with long, brown hair and stubble. The other is smaller, with blond hair and looks...familiar. He looks up and smiles as he sees you and you're hit with a memory from over a decade ago.
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You were working late shift at Waffle House. Not great, but it paid the bills your scholarship didn't cover. Culinary School was your ticket out of this town and you were going to give it everything you had. And, because of class schedules, the late night shift was your only real option.
On a slow night it was just you and another server managing the floor. Curtis, the cook, was out back for his smoke break. Your one patron came up to pay his bill. He was scrawny, blonde haired, blue eyed, and very polite. Unlike other late night patrons, he wasn't drunk and didn't try flirting with you. He spent most of his meal drawing in his notebook and you noted he was very skilled. He smiled shyly and thanked you.
He went to the till to pay but went pale when his card was declined. “I...I knew I was cutting it close but...I'm so sorry! Let me try to find some cash or something!” He starts frantically pulling out his pockets.
“It's okay, I've got you,” you assure him. “It was just eggs and toast.”
“I don't want your pity,” he mumbles. “I swear I can pay.”
“It's not pity, it's kindness,” you retort. “You were a very nice customer, very respectful. Not used to that this time of night. You even let me look at your artwork. So let me thank you for being nice by being nice in return.”
His cheeks are pink with embarrassment but he steadies himself, “I...I promise I'll pay you back.”
“I'm not worried about it.”
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And now that same scrawny, blonde haired, blue eyed man was gesturing for you to sit next to him at the most high-priced restaurant in the city.
“I know it's been a while,” he states calmly. “So I'll understand if you don't recognize me.”
“Eggs and toast,” you whisper, making him smile.
“I still owe you for that meal. And with interest and economic inflation, I think you could order whatever you want from this place and I'll still owe you.” His companion, the big, brown haired man chuckles. “Please, have a seat. We've got some catching up to do.”
You sit down, still feeling in a bit of shock. “What...what are you doing here?”
“Me and Bucky,” he gestures to the brunette, “run this town. We're the ones you've been paying the protection money to.”
“You're Mr. Barnes?”
“That would be me, Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I have the more intimidating presence people expect, complete with the skills to back that up. Steve here is the brains. The devious bastard figured out how to completely run out the other rackets, making us the only game in town.”
A sudden thought hits you. You look at Steve, “those gifts I've been receiving?”
“Those were me, Angel,” he smiles. “I figured you'd appreciate a glimpse at the nice things I can give you.”
“You...you broke into my apartment...”
“I own the building so it wasn't a break in,” he calmly tells you. “I have my own key.”
You freeze up. How many times has this stranger been in your apartment? How many times did he watch you sleep? And how much power does he have that he can openly admit these things to you without fear of repercussion?
“I warned him that the drawing was a step too far,” Bucky interrupted your thoughts. “But he insisted you'd be flattered.”
“Then we got Nat's report from you,” Steve frowned. “I really didn't think it would scare you.”
“You didn't think it would scare me to have someone draw me in my sleep? Without my knowing?!” You get out of your chair and try to back away. “You've been stalking me. Invading my privacy! I never consented to any of this!”
You try to turn and walk away but you're stopped by Sam. “I promise you,” he warns, “if you leave you will regret it.”
Confused you turn back to Steve and Bucky who are out of their own seats and stalking towards you, looking angry.
“I want to be nice,” Steve tells you. “But I'm sure you can guess, I don't have to be. Neither do my friends. Now please,” he holds out a hand to you. “Please come sit, and have dinner with me.”
You want to run. You want to scream. But this man owns your business. He owns your home. If you try to get away, where could you go? You've invested everything into your bakery and have no savings. You have nowhere else you can live. He owns everything you hold dear.
You take his hand, “I'm...I'm sorry, Steve. It's a lot to take in.”
He smiles while Bucky and Sam relax. “It's okay, Angel,” he covers your hand with his. “We've got all the time to figure this out.”
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Partially inspired by @theinheriteddutchess; Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @fluxxdog; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly
#navy and roo's sleepover#sundae bar#skinny!steve rogers#skinny!steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers#bakery au#secret admirer#stalker!steve rogers
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DAY 8: Eight Maids a-Milking
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9979198318a130a19942405fe40528e2/8c14de7e2d4ec522-e4/s540x810/fdf4bc96b9c113241b433871dfb9661cc5c902a1.jpg)
☃️ Office Party☃️
Tags: [mlw][semi-public][implied age gap][costume][oral (m receiving)][squirting][creampie][mdni][there's a position but idk the name but I'll leave a visual representation at the bottom (w/ stickmen)][praise]
❄️☃️❄️
An office party has always been a nightmare, especially since you're almost always an elf. Plasticky, pointy ears that poke out from between your strands and a dark green dress that ends just above your knees, brushing against your striped pantyhose.
You continue to chat with coworkers, entertaining potential clients before you do a double take, lips parting with a breath and lashes fluttering just before your eyes widen to the size of saucers, at the sight of the actual office hottie.
Nanami fucking Kento, dressed as Santa Claus.
"Don't say anything." Kento grumbles, raising a whiskey tumbler to his lips, brown liquid sloshing around the crystal amongst the ice cubes and he takes a sip, expression visibly easing at the way the taste spreads across the softness of his pink tongue.
"No no, I was just gonna say that you look like... A real Santa." You hum, munching on the cookie in your hand, the taste of chocolate and ginger mixing in your mouth. "You know, after he delivers all the presents and he's all tired and pissed off."
Kento rolls his eyes behind his glasses, before glancing towards the various faces, familiar, with faux grins and haughty laughs slipping past pinched lips, eager to appease clients and rack in sales.
In all honesty, you don't even know what kind of company it is.
You're just a receptionist and you don't care enough to learn about what you have to do, only helping clients, taking calls and booking appointments.
Your eyes move towards the heavy, red bag resting at Kento's feet.
God. He's even got the big, red sack of presents.
"What's in your sack?" You hum quizzically, eyes trained on the bag as you tilt your head, trying to focus on the various outlines in the bag.
"Cum."
You sputter, coughing as crumbs spew from your lips, and Kento's hand smacks the space between your shoulder blades lightly, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement as he tries not to laugh at your reaction.
And Kento's hand brushes along your back, up across your shoulder blades before travelling down the curve of your back, tracing the dip in your spine before he cranes his neck to meet your gaze.
His cologne is so soft.
A subtle hint of sandalwood and mint, a heady scent that you just know that being bathed in it would give you a headache and you can imagine that full Nelson with full heart. Especially when encapsulated with his musk.
Oh GOD.
Kento's voice is soft, a faint lingering of spearmint toothpaste lingering on his breath.
"You okay, pretty?"
Your knees dig into the lush carpet, candy-striped pantyhose damp from your leay pussy, as Kento keeps feeding you cock. Inch by inch, one hand resting under your jaw and the other tangled in your hair, blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp as you suck on his tip, your head bobbing.
Bleary eyes stare up at Kento, lashes fluttering as his flushed crown nudges at the back of your throat, and your nails dig into his thighs as you try to keep yourself from gagging.
Nanami's hand leaves your jaw, instead, carding through his sandy strands, moving the stray hairs away from his forehead and he hums, a low rumble in his chest.
"...it's okay, baby, you can choke on it."
His voice is gentle, a soft symphony that leaves his parted lips, alongside puffed out breaths and low groans, quiet enough to not be heard from outside the office door.
This isn't something Kento does.
Dicking around with a receptionist in his boss's office, paperwork scattered haphazardly along the mahogany desk, broad thighs still clad in that ridiculously red pants, manspread wide enough for you to kneel between his booted feet.
But you're so pretty though.
With pretty doe eyes that stare up at him intensely whenever he explains something to you, and rosy lips that make Kento Nanami question whether or not baked goods are the only kind of buns he wants in his mouth. And that's not even mentioning when the water dispenser malfunctioned, spraying cool spring water all over the front of your blouse, soaking the fabric and causing it to cling to your form, nipples pebbled under the scrutinizing breeze of the AC.
And Kento believed in God when you instantly walked towards him, eager and innocent enough to believe he wouldn't look at those pretty tits when he had the opportunity on a silver platter.
Kento's brought out of his reverie when you gag, the ball of your nose flush against that sandy carpet of hair, soft and... Oddly pleasant scented and Kento groans, lashes fluttering as your tongue traces along his shaft, lazily and messily. Thick globs of saliva trickle down your chin messily and Kento pulls out of your mouth with a wet 'pop', a pudgy thumb gently wiping away the spit, before slowly tracing along your bottom lip.
"So fucking pretty." Kento's voice is low, a quiet whisper only to be shared between the two of you, in this office, three glass windows giving you a view of the snow blanketed city below. Pedestrians look like ants from here, but you're not focused on them.
You're focused on Kento.
Pretty Kento, tapping his flushed and glistening, spittle-covered cock on your face, watching and enjoying the lewd tap-tap-tap against your cheeks.
When Kento slowly slips into you, the moan that falls from your lips makes his eyes roll back and he hums, slowly inching himself into you.
"Fuck, you're so tight."
Kento breathes out, lashes fluttering as he presses a kiss to the curve of your neck, grip tight on the backs of your thighs before he straightens up.
Carefully, Kento lifts you, his cock twitching against your fluttering and gooey walls, hands gripping the backs of your knees, and your feet hover above the carpet.
His cock bullies its way into your gummy walls, the rosy tip bumping against your cervix and your back arches against his chest. And your lashes flutter.
"...fuck..— you're so tight." Kento breathes out, his face buried in the side of your neck, breathing in that scent of cookies and perfume. That distinct floral scent that he could recognise in a crowded room.
"...'s big."
You whine quietly when Kento lifts you a bit, his tip remaining buried in your spasming and leaky cunt, before he fucks you up and down on his cock. His muscular hips tilt to meet yours, the fat of your ass cushioning the harshness of his thrusts and Kento sighs.
"Play with that pussy, baby." He hums. "Play with it."
He forces your gaze to the shaky reflection in the crystal clear windows, the nightsky creating a perfect mirror for him to watch as your shaky hands toy with your swollen clit, throbbing for affection and attention.
You don't know how long it is, how many strokes it is but with each bullying thrust of his hips, you feel that knot in your lower belly tighten, muscles tense and your tongue lolling lazily because he's so nasty. Spit and precum fucking into your already messy cunt, profanities muttered under his breath because you're just so so wet.
"Fuck—" you gasp, "you're gonna make me cum, Nanami..."
Your stomach dips inward as he keeps fucking up into you, but you're too dazed to even notice when Kento has your back pressed against the redwood desk, scattered pages fluttering to the floor as Kento's hands anchor your hips to the desk.
As he fucks into you, bullying your cervix and that pinch behind your stomach deepens, your eyes rolling back in your head and you gush, soaking Kento's Santa suit from the waist down to his thighs. And he groans.
"That's it, baby. Squirt for me."
Kento whines, hips pistoning and snapping into you, watching the way your pussy lips are split open, spasming around his cock.
Abs clench and his face is pinched into a tight little frown, an adorable furrow in his blonde brows and Kento lets out a huff of breath.
You're tight. Choking his cock in a way that has him in a tizzy, doe eyes staring up at him so sweetly and your pussy flutters each time he drags his cock against your sensitive walls.
Kento doesn't even know he's cumming until his hips are stuttering, stalling like a car on its last breath and he leans forward, your thighs spread obscenely wide as he rests his forehead against your shoulder.
Pressing a sloppy kiss against the curve of your neck.
"There..." He breathes, panting out as he tries to catch his breath, cum dripping down the crease of your ass and undoubtedly leaving messy splatters on the burgundy carpets.
"Now you know what's in Santa's sack."
❄️🎀❄️
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this is the position. Like... The legs over the arms, like, at the elbows and like....
Do you see the vision?
#sobbingscripter#smut#jujutsukaisen#jjksmut#x reader smut#jjk x reader#kento nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#12 days of christmas#jjk nanami x reader
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Where my BYU-I peeps at?
There's a new company in Rexburg which sells custom fortune cookies, the idea is that loved ones of Rexburg students can write a love note and have it put into a fortune cookie which is delivered to them on campus.
Lucia Ratliff, the company founder, says that there are times she has more batter than orders and it would be so much better to deliver love to someone rather than let it go to waste. She would like to use the excess batter to make cookies with love notes for the LGBTQ community on campus.
If you are queer and would like to possibly be the recipient of a random love note in a fortune cookie, or if you aren't queer but know of queer students at BYU-I, please send me a DM with the name and I'll pass along to Lucia.
Addendum: To simplify things, Lucia has created a Google form so people can submit love notes directly, which hopefully simplifies things
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Ruby's Birthday Special 5: War Of The Roses
Jaune: *Kisses Ruby awake* Good morning sleepyhead.
Ruby: *Kisses back* Morning~.
Ruby: *Adorable stretch and yawn*
Jaune: And happy birthday.
Ruby: Thanks, what do you have planned- *Smells something burnt* ...
Ruby: What did Weiss burn?
Jaune: The birthday cake she insisted she could make. Because she's *Insert Weiss impression here* "Significantly improved in my ability to make culinary delights"
Ruby: *Snort laugh* Do we still have a kitchen?
Jaune: Yeah, one less cake pan though.
Ruby: Eh, we can get another. But what are you two planning on getting me to make up for it~?
Jaune: Well,
------
Weiss: *Calling a local bakery* Yes, I understand it's at short notice, but I'm willing to pay ten times your usual rates to have the cookies and cakes delivered on time.
Weiss: ...
Weiss: Yes, a whole shipping container's worth.
Weiss: ...
Weiss: Great to hear it. I'll make sure to use your company for and SDC events in Vale for now on.
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Why You Should Buy Cookies Online: A Guide to Indulging in Fresh, Premium Treats Anytime
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/da9df46e2575517d14693f162f2779f3/d4b496807158f081-04/s540x810/ed3fec490b04e5cdbd39dd4fc3e6402320fba230.jpg)
The timeless pleasure of biting into a perfectly baked cookie has captivated generations. From classic chocolate chips to exotic flavors, cookies have become an integral part of daily indulgences. Today, with the convenience of online shopping, more people prefer to buy cookies online, allowing them to explore a vast selection of flavors, brands, and specialty cookies from the comfort of home. If you're seeking the best place to buy cookies online, consider checking out Govaabazaar’s premium cookie selection, where quality meets variety in every bite.
The Rise of Buying Cookies Online
In recent years, online shopping has transformed how we satisfy our cravings. From gourmet stores to artisanal bakers, everyone offers their best creations online. Here’s why buying cookies online has gained such popularity:
Wider Selection: When you shop online, the variety available far exceeds what you'd typically find in a physical store. At Govaabazaar, for example, you can explore unique flavors and styles of cookies, whether you prefer soft, chewy, or crunchy options. The convenience of being able to buy cookies online means there’s always something new to try.
Perfect for Gifting: Buying cookies online makes it easy to send a sweet surprise to loved ones. Whether it’s a birthday, anniversary, or a special holiday, sending a box of premium cookies is a thoughtful and delicious gift. When you buy cookies online from Govaabazaar, you’re not just purchasing treats; you’re sending a delightful experience.
Benefits of Choosing Govaabazaar to Buy Cookies Online
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Once again, I find myself disappointed by Devsis AND the cookie run community, and how alarmingly racist a lot of people are.
All screenshots and information gathered here are from twitter user @/Celezticuh.
This will be a discussion on not just Cookie Run: Tower of Adventures, but also the community's response against the wider issue. It's gonna be long, so buckle up.
1. What's going on with Cookie Run: Tower of Adventures?
To no one's surprise, it's racism against Black people and Indigenous people, yey! /S
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e692d6178cd4066cabf98446822efe0e/4042d6f4b4670e3d-26/s540x810/64b53544bf7dec0daac826ec050333cd3be98cda.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/050a8d2b6744ae96cbd5ed390d150508/4042d6f4b4670e3d-3f/s540x810/31bf3fea14b93f9d9eaa9b2532d3db76f38d3082.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b0593d91f4d29a233d48426009386364/4042d6f4b4670e3d-59/s540x810/3b49c9485d916e50d015ec454b926735694068c8.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4bb021c0732b451ab8d9e91333ff9a5e/4042d6f4b4670e3d-6e/s540x810/8d86dd3274e1f613b47ff4832644fbf947c5eeca.jpg)
Why is this an issue? Because these traditional practices and clothing of people of color (especially those of black and native american descent) have often been used as just costumes and props instead of being respected as what it is, a culture that is to be respected.
This is what Celezticuh has stated in greater detail about what is wrong:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4097d9f1341c2d18c5076ed82eed15ef/4042d6f4b4670e3d-fe/s2048x3072/f87fae7e6940af772cf557374972e45a4a92d26c.jpg)
2. The community's response.
Celezticuh and several other members of the CRTOA discord have brought up this issue in the official discord server, but have experienced pushback FROM THE COOKIE RUN COMMUNITY ITSELF.
Here are some notable people defending this behavior.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c5552b29ea4c233703a112ea60eabb15/4042d6f4b4670e3d-9a/s1280x1920/796befbeca222c9de917bee579b21917ca316bdd.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/36759d74c02d7bed8f987a70275d3319/4042d6f4b4670e3d-33/s540x810/edb7f72fb5ee80bbeae4824faf55b9f328b83349.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/313978b578c534b8c1f2aa7c90356e0b/4042d6f4b4670e3d-42/s540x810/c3a69868883ecfbd0264bb73127fc75c7910d17b.jpg)
Let me be clear, as an asian myself, telling people that "Oh they're asian, they don't know!" Or "They don't care!" Is -newsflash- ALSO RACIST TOWARDS ASIAN PEOPLE??????
We here in asia face discrimination for not being light skinned, skinny, and colorism. It's not as bad as being the subject of extreme racism, but it has negative effects on our society. And it disgusts me how people genuinely think that just because they're korean, means they get a free pass to be disrespectful towards other people outside of their circle.
Secondly, they have fans INTERNATIONALLY. If they only cared about korean fans, they would not have as big of an impact on the wider scale as they do. They know we (the people outside of korea) have our eyes on them. And people who say that they don't know, are full of bullshit.
3. Why has there no action been taken against this?
A big issue as to why this has never reached Devsister's ears is because the Korean community isn't as outraged at this compared to the international audience. Now, I am not saying we should automatically assume any and all korean players are as racist as the company, but I'd chalk it up to ignorance, which still sucks let's be real.
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that the international community has been calling for protests and asking for the trucks to be delivered again, but unless we have support from the korean community, it's looking to be highly unlikely.
So here we ask for people to help us get into contact with someone from the korean community who's willing to help get the trucks set up again.
--
I'm not the best at conclusions, however, I want to leave off with a message.
The cookie run community has festered some of the most racist, vile garbage of people I've ever seen. Not just towards black and non pale skinned people of color, but even towards the asians you claim to defend themselves (Dark Cacao, Affogato and Peach Blossoms are barely scratching the surface.).
Cookie run fans, please do better.
#cookie run#cookie run tower of adventures#crtoa#screw devsisters#important notes#🌌❔#BEFORE ANYONE SAYS IT:#yes I know the company is not my friend#but it's still important to educate people about topics like this#especially when it's still so prevalent in today's society
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15 Days BL Challenge the Quadriquel
48. If you could switch a BL actor pairing to a different production company, who would you move and to which production company?
Change 2561
I would move FortPeat to Change 2561. I think they could really soar outside of MAME's Universe. I think they could really have fun with some of the crazy plots Change comes up with and honestly I think they have the range and also we wouldn't have to compromise on the high heat they're so excellent at. I feel like the sky would be the limit for them at Change.
(Also think FirstKhao would have fun there too)
Idolfactory
I would move OffGun to Idolfactory and maybe they can finally shake off those university based plots that GMMTV LOVES to give them. I think Idolfactory has unique plots that would challenge OffGun and they could really explore genres outside of comedy. We saw how amazing they were in Not Me, but imagine them together in fantasy (we know Gun can do it but can Off?) Also I think we would like to see OffGun crank up the heat, they're 30 let's see it! And maybe having such seasoned actors would motivate Idolfactory writers to stick the landings for their series.
(Maybe MaxNat could slide over too)
Deehup
Move PoddPapang to DeeHup. They would be our best bet to get our mature Yaoi we so crave. I think they would easily be casted as mains for either a period drama or even a single dad type of thing. DeeHup would deliver us that mature, emotional, and relatable content we want from Podd and Papang.
(And they should take EarthMix with them)
MeMindY
Crazy enough, I'd move GemFourth to MeMindY specifically so they could get some messiness under their belts. They are so cookie cutter (which I know is about to change) and I know it's because they are so young but damn I'll bet Gem and Fourth would devour a sloppy, messy uni series. Though I do worry about how MAME likes to incorporate assault. If we could do messy without the inclusion of assault then we would have a 10/10 series. We got Wedding Plan so I know it can be done.
Open Label
Let's move BounPrem and BossNoeul to Open Label alongside DaouOffroad and Film Thanapat. BounPrem need to move to a company where they would get consistent attention and decent plots. They are so amazing together but so far have been given nothing but subpar plots and then pushed to the back burner. Their fanbase is way too big to be left hanging so damn frequently. And like FortPeat, BossNoeul need to be released from MAME's universe to really spread their wings. Boss has gotten a little taste with some work with Mandee and from what I've seen he's good. I think BossNoeul would be able to get some fresh new storylines but also keep with heat.
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❝grocery shopping with him❞
« characters - demon brothers, solomon, diavolo»
« gender neutral reader »
« headcanons »
LUCIFER
He is very efficient. Knowing exactly where every aisle is, the shopping basket is full in the blink of an eye. You are there only to keep him company. Time with you is precious and he intends to keep you close whenever the opportunity presents itself.
He scans the prices and brands before making a decision. He gets the best coffee beans directly from the plantations and he pays them well. He is “husband goals” if you are of an economic mind. He has a lot of coupons but his pride forbids him from using those. Beel is only too happy to receive it from his eldest brother. Owing to his busy schedule, he sometimes gets the necessities delivered. The bored cashier straightens up and greets him very respectfully.
He insists on carrying the bags himself and doesn’t listen to your protests.
MAMMON
Well, he’s scared to visit some stores because he hasn’t paid them back for decades. He is very particular about the stores you two can visit. Once there, he vanishes to check out the shelves and schemes about what he can sell for a higher price.
“After all, demons would pay extra to buy it from THE Great Mammon. We can send the bill to Lucifer. Hahaha,” says Mammon with a bunch of mismatched stuff in his shopping basket.
The burden of completing the shopping falls on you.
You sigh, “Let’s get it done before Lucifer calls and asks for dinner.”
You two carry the shopping bags together.
He buys you a gift while browsing.
LEVIATHAN
He is incapable of completing this mission alone. You must accompany him as he makes a comeback in the outside world in what feels like an eternity! His eyes dart to and fro as if afraid that someone will be disgusted by his presence.
“Where can we get this item, [Name]?” he asks for literally everything on the list.
You give him a tour for the future despite him refusing to follow.
“Levi, you should know where everything is!”
He literally gags when he sees seafood and runs away as fast as he can.
“Levi, wait! You can’t go out with the basket without paying first!”
You apologise for him but keep supporting him. You carry all the bags because he looks shaken and weak.
ASMODEUS
“Oh, [Name], look at these cute shaped cookies. We should definitely get these for my Devilgram!”
Within a few minutes, he has gotten everything in the store that’s not on the list.
“Asmo,” you say breathlessly as you try to catch up to him, “We need to buy groceries for dinner! We can’t eat chocolates and cookies… is that lip gloss? Let’s grab some vegetables!”
Asmo pouts but you shield your eyes from his cuteness. “No, Asmo! It’s been an hour. We should get started now. Plus, the two of us can’t carry all that!”
That’s when he gives up. “You are right. Maybe we can come back some other time. Let’s get the food before Lucifer gets mad.”
He returns some items since it got too heavy and then you two easily carry it to HOL.
SATAN
He’s very methodical and knows where the best deals are to be found! The shopkeepers know him only too well. Oh, vegetables? He knows a place where you can get fresh ones. Ah toiletries? Why, allow him to show you where good quality yet cheap toilet paper can be found. Name it!
Owing to his influence, he never returns from a shopping trip without getting everything that’s on his list - even if it’s sold out everywhere.
“I must get fresh ingredients to prove that my food is better than Lucifer’s,” he grins as he starts dinner preparations. “Oh, and try this coffee. The beans are a delicacy. I stayed awake for 2 days after drinking half a cup. I completed an entire series by a writer I like.”
“Sounds dangerous for the health, Satan.”
BEELZEBUB
You accompany him to make sure that he doesn’t eat the grocery store while he’s at it. He listens to you and tries to control himself but his hands still stretch to grab some food items that nobody should eat raw. So you have to devote half of your attention picking items for dinner and the other half to make sure that Beel doesn’t cause a lot of trouble.
“I’ll make you something you will enjoy for dinner so just wait for a bit longer, bub,” you promise and he behaves.
The rest of the trip is spent imagining all the delicacies that he will request you to make.
He carries all the bags back.
BELPHEGOR
He’s too lazy to care.
“Why didn't you ask one of my brothers to do the shopping in your place?” Belphie groans, looking drowsy. The supermarket was not his idea of an ideal date. “You know that they would have been only too happy to do it if you had asked. Then we could have taken a nap together instead.”
You put some onions in the basket and turn towards him wearily. “But it was my turn today. I can't always drop the burden on someone else. Besides,” your tone softens, almost apologetic, “Why don't I make something you like tonight? Something light on the stomach that will help you get good dreams?”
He narrows his eyes but looks pleased, “It seems that I am no different than my brothers. I can't say no to you. You make me melt. What can I say? You know me too well… ”
You carry the bags while he carries a pillow.
DIAVOLO
He tags along to spend time with you. The idea of chatting with you while doing the most mundane daily activities appeals to him. It’s sweet and endearing and he likes to stop talking and instead observe you deciding between two brands. These are Barbatos’ duties so he never gets the chance to enjoy these. He seems to be familiar with tea and coffee and can guide you about the best ones, even though he rarely drinks store-bought beverages.
He bombards you with questions about what you usually buy and make for dinner and promises to join you again if he's free.
He won’t let you carry the bags. Let him help you. Whoever sees the demon prince with grocery bags in his hands feels startled. Even royal demons are involved in housework! Mothers will be telling this story to the little ones for centuries to come.
SOLOMON
Solomon takes his time since you are there with him. A man needs to relax after researching all day.
“Ah look at this leafy cabbage. This was grown at the Hellfire Plantation. They use a special kind of manure. It’s very tasty,” he says and buys two.
The extent of his knowledge is bizarre. When he catches you looking mystified, he laughs. “Haha you look so suspicious of me. I am sorry. For some time in the last century, I took special interest in learning about the agricultural and rearing practices in the Devildom.”
“Wow Solomon,” you say impressed. “There seems to be nothing you don’t know!”
“Haha, that’s kind of you but there’s still a lot to learn about the world.”
“Thank you for coming shopping with me. Why don’t we return to Purgatory Hall? I will treat you to my cooking?” he offers with a satisfied smile.
Your instinct tells you to run but you ignore it and smile shakily instead. “Eh… ah… I actually promised Levi that I will play games with him tonight. Sorry! Maybe next time?”
That's when your legs start moving in the opposite direction, deserting him with all the bags.
#obey me#obey me x reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral mc#obey me x mc#obey me!#shion script#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me solomon#obey me brothers#obey me drabbles#x mc#x reader#imagines#obey me leviathan
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I think they will soon have a wrap party.
Hmm.. think these are people that from time to time deliver cookies to the OL crew filming. They're not a company that delivers every day food or snacks.
We already learned from Maril's stories they're filming the last bits and as Cait said end of this month. So I think there's still a few weeks to go.
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