#dessert for hot weather

[anzu2snow]

Went to Silver City for dinner. It was hot today. It went up to 90°F. (It’s expected to get worse in the next couple of days.) We don’t have ac, so it was hard to eat things at home. It got to around 77°F in the family room. I thought that was pretty good, but it was still hard.

We shared the new artichoke hearts without cheese. It was surprisingly pretty good. I got the gyro pizza with a side of cole slaw. I half thought I was getting the sandwich instead, and one of the choices to have with it was cole slaw. After I realized I was getting the pizza, I still thought it would be good to have more vegetables. It was good to nibble on as my pizza was too hot to eat at first. The pizza was good. I had half of it, and it’ll make a nice lunch tomorrow. (My parent hates cheese, so it should be safe.) I also got their new peach purse for dessert. It reminded me of the apple crostada Red Lobster used to have. Only with peaches instead. Good that way.

[reilemon]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his  shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

[loveslibrarywp]

Kindly begging pretty please for Cregan content with Rhaenyra’s daughter!reader and her going to Winterfell/marrying him for the sake of the Blacks 🙌

Marriage for duty

Cregan Stark x Velaryon/Strong!reader

Summary: After delievering the message and proposal from your mother to the Lord of Winterfell, you’re now stuck with getting married to a Lord you barely know. Yet, he comforts you during your time at Winterfell and completely changes your mind.

Warnings: Cregan being a cutie.

Authors note: shitty summary but whatever..

You sigh as you take off your fur coat as you were now in the heat of your chambers. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, taking in some of your last days as a free, unmarried woman.

Your mother proposed that you marry Lord Cregan Stark, a man you had just met. She did this to unite their houses and to gain more men for the war. Cregan wasn’t cruel or evil from what you saw, and he wasn’t old either. He was a handsome man, that was a plus to this arrangement.

But, you weren’t ready for marriage. You didn’t know much about being a wife or your duties as such. You picked up your comb and brushed out your long, dark curls. After a long day of negotiating and talking to the men of Winterfell, you needed a hot bath.

A knock came from your door, startling you. You put down your wooden comb and opened the door. A gush of cold wind came rushing through. It was Cregan standing outside.

He quickly came in and shut the door. “My apologies for my sudden arrival, my lady.” He said as he looked down at you. “It is alright, my lord.” You said as you went to go add more firewood to the burning flames of your fireplace.

“I have noticed that you aren’t very comfortable here..” he said as he watched your form move around the room. “I’m fine, my lord. Just not used to the weather here is all.” You said as you brushed your hands on your dress as you awkwardly laugh.

“It is not that. Perhaps, you aren’t very comfortable with me and our betrothal?” He questioned as he cleared his throat nervously. You look up at him, “No, my lord. It is the idea of marriage itself. I fear I am not ready.” You sigh, your face full of sorrow.

He steps towards you and takes your hands into his grasp, “you will be a wonderful wife, I know it. And I will be a good and faithful husband.” He reassures you, caressing your hands with his fingers. “I know you will be, you seem to be a very kind man.” Your face feels hot and his gaze is intense. Your eyes drift to the ground to avoid his eyesight.

“You’re too beautiful to hide your face.” He said as he lifted your face up to meet his gaze. Your eye widened and you blush furiously. A little smile appears on your lips, “you charm me, my lord.”

“That is the goal, my lady.” He smirked, you laugh at his remarks. His smile only grows at your laughter.

“I shall take you on a walk through the village tomorrow. Maybe I can even introduce you to my favorite stalls that sells the most delicious desserts you will ever have the pleasure of tasting.” He goes on, you smiled up at the man, feeling much better than you did before.

“I’d like that very much, my lord.” You said. He gleamed at your approval, “perfect, I will see you in the morning then.”

“Until then…” you said with a bright smile. “Goodnight, my lady.” He kissed your hands, never breaking eye contact with you. Your cheeks had to be redder than cherries by now.

“Goodnight..” you said as you watched him leave your room. Maybe marriage wouldn’t be so bad after all..

[haeryna]

the sadness we shared is my clarity ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ↪ fushiguro megumi x reader

summary: it's spring when fushiguro megumi finds you. it's summer when he realizes he loves you. but as the days shorten, and time runs out, megumi realizes you're slipping away.

tw: angst, as per usual. mentions of gore, and sexual tension but nothing explicit or nsfw. you and megumi are both idiots. half of this was churned out in a day so please give the author grace. not proofread. arrangedmarriage!au and friends to enemies to lovers. megumi is Mean. mutual pining, so much that i want to throw up. mmm yummy clan politics

notes: banner by the lovely @/cafekitsune! title taken from txt's deja vu. had this fic rotting in my head and in my drive. dedicated to riko, for being one of the first mooties i ever had. love you @riaki !!

also i'm sorry everyone for vanishing off the face of the earth pls accept this fic as an apology :'))

part one/??

It’s summer, and the air in Kawasaki is miserably hot and oppressive. Tacky skin clings to thick cloth, and Megumi grimaces at the feeling. Gojo had finally decided to send all the first years together on a mission to deal with a group of Grade 3 spirits, deeming his pupils “worthy to finally make their debut!” To celebrate, Nobara had corralled everyone to a small cafe, located near the train station. “Cmon, this place has air conditioning, and Ijichi won’t be here for at least another hour,” she insists, fingers wrapped around the curve of your wrist. Begrudgingly, Megumi follows along, heavy with the knowledge that where you go, he'll follow.

He can’t help but sneak glances over, as you and Nobara fawn over the icy desserts and drinks the cafe has to offer. The soft swoop of your neck is revealed as you lean in closer to peer at the deserts hidden behind the glass. A bead of sweat trickles down into the hollow of your collarbone, and Megumi swallows hard, forcing himself to look away. The flush on his cheeks is from the summer heat, he tells himself. He can’t quite bring himself to believe it. 

“Fushiguro!” you call out, and he forces himself to look at you. “What is it?” 

“Aren’t you going to get a drink?”

Megumi hesitates, before grumbling an affirmative. As the other three move to secure a table, he turns to face the cashier. She seems younger than him by a few years, makeup done even in the hot weather with mascaraed eyelashes batting at him innocently. She misses the proffered bills, running her hand along his, before apologizing a bit breathily. “It’s fine,” Megumi sighs. His thoughts wander as the cashier chatters away mindlessly. You were favoring your right side. Were you injured? Had one of the curses somehow reached you before he could stop them? Your technique had seemed to wane towards the end of the fight. Were you overexerted? Did he have to speak to Gojo about how hard he’d been training you? 

He pulls himself from his thoughts just in time to notice the cashier leaning over the counter, watching him curiously. “Would you like a receipt, sir?” 

“No,” is his curt reply, shoving all of his traitorous thoughts of you deep down inside of himself. The cashier pouts. “If you fill out a survey, you can get five dollars off on your purchase!” 

Megumi can feel himself grimacing. Nobara would kick his ass if he didn’t at least take it and offer it to her. “Fine then.” As he turns back to the table, he scowls at the too-bright smile on Yuuji’s face. “What’s that look for?” 

“Fushiguro, she was totally hitting on you!” 

He swats away the eager high five. “Did the curses fuck with your brain or something?” 

“No, seriously, look at the receipt she gave you!” 

Megumi can feel the heat of your gaze as he unravels the receipt. Under the printed text of “FIVE DOLLARS OFF AFTER SURVEY COMPLETION!” was a line of neatly printed numbers. Scowling, he shoves the offending piece of paper in your direction. “Here. Take it.” 

“I don’t want your leftovers,” you shoot back, eyes blazing, and his traitorous heart wrenches. “It’s not for the number, idiot. Weren’t you and Kugisaki just complaining about spending that much money on drinks? Take the survey and stop whining.” 

He lets himself fall back in the familiar rhythm of bickering with Nobara as she swats at him. He’ll do anything to avoid the way your offended gaze turns thoughtful, how you seem to study his face as he forces himself to continue the lie he’s let himself live. You cannot be his, Megumi thinks desperately, even after the four of you depart the cafe, and after you toss the crumpled up wad of paper into the trash can. Even as you fall asleep in the backseat of the car, head perched onto his shoulder, he fights down the growing panic and nausea. He would rather break his own heart in the process than let you suffer from his affections. 

Cursed, he thinks. There’s a reason his mother passed, his father killed, and his sister stolen away. He’s as cursed as the shadows that seep from his domain with their tendrils that wrap and curl over every inch of light. Megumi has already accepted that the feelings that grow by the day can never be revealed. You, with your sunshine laugh, whose tender hands would always reach for him after a mission. Fushiguro, you’d say, kindly. You’re hurt again. Let me grab the first aid kit. You, with your hands that are soft and gentle, as much as Megumi’s hands are calloused and stained. 

I love you, he finally admits, as he carries you from the car back to your room. Yuuji had an ankle injury, and Nobara couldn’t handle hauling your weight up the stairs leading back to Jujutsu Tech. At least, that’s what he tells himself, as he shifts your weight in his arms, feeling the way you subconsciously pressed yourself closer to him. I love you. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep, brow crinkling ever so slightly. Gently, Megumi smoothes it over with his thumb. I love you. 

Fushiguro Megumi was by no means a religious man. He’d known that there was no god in the battlefields of a sorcerer, no mercy in the torturous death that only curses could offer. And yet, as he lowers you down to the comfort of your mattress, he finds himself praying. I’ll do anything, he thinks, as he watches you in the depths of your slumber. I’ll give up my body, my soul, my life. Just please let her live. Please let her be happy. 

Please give her someone that could take better care of her than I ever could. 

Fushiguro Megumi found you in the first rainfall of spring. 

You hadn't noticed him, quietly watching the droplets fall on the sakura trees planted near the perimeter of Jujutsu Tech. The edges of your kimono were stained with mud, with a chunk of your haori ripped out on the left side. Megumi frowned. Silk, he noted, and gold. You’re dressed too well to be here, but too oblivious to be a threat. Just to be sure, he let his fingers curl around the handle of one of his tonfas before he spoke. 

“Who are you?” 

Startled, you turned to face him, and his scowl deepened. You were pretty, even with your eyes rounded in shock, and the undignified noise that had escaped you when you realized you weren’t alone. When you told him your name, voice hesitant, Megumi couldn't help but hate the way his heart reacted as you spoke. 

“I’m looking for Gojo Satoru,” you finished, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip as you waited for his response. Megumi swallowed hard.

“A lot of people do.” He kept his tone steady, forced himself not to let the heat in his chest rise to his face. “What’s a Kamo doing here, looking for him?” 

Megumi had heard of you, of course. Gojo had raised him with at least a basic understanding of the three Big Families, and their prominent figures from both the past and present. The half-sister to Noritoshi Kamo, you had been held behind while your elders sent him away to the sister school in Kyoto. Women, Gojo had said, tone playful but eyes cold, are seen as nothing more than breeding stock and political pawns. They’ll probably keep her there until she’s married off. 

Something seems to settle inside you, and Megumi can’t help but watch, ensnared in the web you weave. Your hands smooth over the creases in your kimono as you exhaled, shoulders rounding back. Even covered in grime you radiated elegance, though you were betrayed by the still-skittish look in your eyes. “I’m here to make a deal with him.” 

A few days after the four of you had returned from your assignment in Kawasaki, you realized that Megumi was behaving rather oddly. 

At first, he seemed moody. Tired, you assumed. With promotions coming up, Gojo-sensei had been training the four of you even more rigorously than usual. Your mornings were filled with research, analyzing the few texts that Jujutsu Tech had recovered on cursed techniques that were even remotely similar to your own. The evenings were spent sparring, with thick dust kicked up under the lukewarm breeze, and the faint howls of Megumi’s shikigami in the distance. 

Sighing, you squat down, calling softly into the woods until one of his Divine Dogs trot out, tongue lolling out happily. You can’t help the wistful smile that tugs at your lips as you run your fingers through soft, black fur. They’d taken a liking to you, after you started carrying a few dog treats in your gear to give to them. Megumi had always complained that you spoiled them, babied them too much. You couldn’t help it. You loved his shikigami dearly. 

What did that say about you? The thought makes you lightheaded for a moment. The heat, you think, a bit desperate. It was all the heat. 

“You’re late.” 

You tilt your head backwards, startling at how close he’d gotten to you. He’s dressed for the summer heat, ditching his uniform for something more practical. Linen pants brush by you as he reaches your side, and your heart seems to convulse when you realize you can see the slight ripple of muscle under the fabric of his shirt.  Heat flares in your cheeks and you look away. Stormy eyes study you, a flicker of something predatory passing through them before he turns to his shikigami. 

“And you. Stop running off like that.” 

The Divine Dog whines, and you crinkle your nose, turning back to meet his gaze. “I was calling for it because I couldn’t find you. You weren’t where we normally spar.” 

“Gojo wanted us to use the other fields.” 

“Fine, fine.” Petulant, you reach for his wrist, hoisting yourself up off the ground. Before you can even speak, he’s tearing it from your grasp as though you’ve burnt him. “Hurry up. We’re losing light.” 

You follow after him quietly, ignoring the sting in your hand from the phantom contact. He’s probably overwhelmed with the work we’ve been doing, you remind yourself, yet you can’t help the slight feeling of dread that runs up your spine. His dog noses at your palm, whining softly, as thought it can sense your distress. Its owner however seems none the wiser. 

“Why did you want to spar today? Didn’t Gojo-sensei say we could take today off?”  

“The next mission is the one that the higher-ups are sending us on to see if we should be recommended for a higher grade. That means it’s going to be more dangerous than usual.” 

The trees clear to reveal a clearing, grass matted down from hours of sparring. “I hate when you’re right.” 

Megumi spares you a sharp glance but says nothing else. “Warm up quickly. I want to be back before it gets dark.” 

You stretch out under the waning light, letting your technique run through your body for a few moments. Cheating, Yuuji would insist, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager for a fight. The upcoming mission loomed over you, anxiety building as you thought about the uncertainties of it all. You hadn’t trusted the higher-ups from the beginning, and you especially didn’t trust them in any circumstance where Itadori Yuuji’s life was at risk. You exhale, feeling the familiar buzz of your cursed energy flow as you move. “Okay. I’m ready.” 

Sparring with Megumi feels like a dance, more than anything else. He was your partner long before Yuuji and Nobara had even transferred to Tokyo, and your body has been trained to move as seamlessly with him as possible. Every step forward he takes you step back, and with each swing of the staff, your katana rises up to meet up. You lose yourself in it for a moment, watching the way his jaw clenches in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as you narrowly avoid a pointed elbow. A sharp jab of your blade, and Megumi is suddenly right in front of you. The air leaves your lungs in his presence taking in the scent of his laundry detergent and the slightest tinge of the soap he uses. He takes advantage of your distraction to disarm you, flipping you neatly into a hold. 

“Yield,” he says, pressing his knee down into your stomach a little more firmly. You try your best to ignore the sight of him kneeled between your legs as you try to kick out from under him. His eyes darken at the sight of you, pinned and struggling to free yourself. 

“Yield,” he says, once more, and you do, letting your body rest against the ground as you stare up at him. There’s a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, the veins of his slender hands raised as he holds his staff. You let your hand curl against the wood of it, feeling the pressure of it resting on your throat. 

“I yield,” you say, and in that moment you know that you have. Fushiguro Megumi has stolen your heart from the day you met him. I’d give you everything, you realize, as Megumi helps you to your feet. There are 35 trillion blood cells in the human body, and every single one of them runs for you. You let your fingers intertwine with his for the briefest moment before forcing yourself to pull away. I would do anything to have you. My greatest sin and my holiest salvation wrapped into a single body. 

“That was a good fight,” he tells you, taking your silence for sulking. Maybe I wanted to lose. Maybe I did want to fall for you. Would that be such a sin? 

“Thanks,” is your stilted answer, the setting sun sealing your fate. You’re in love with Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t quite know what to do about it. 

The mission is simple enough, until it isn’t. An abandoned hospital, Ijitchi had said in the car ride over. Residual curses had been spotted clinging to the interior, feeding off of an unknown source within. Intel had suggested that it was a Grade 2 spirit at most. You watch as Nobara takes a bit too much pleasure in nailing the swarms of weak curses that had greeted you at the entrance, Yuuji laughing at how easily his fists send them to a rather unpleasant demise. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. This is too easy for a promotion mission. What were they hiding? 

Then Megumi opens the doors to what would’ve been the emergency room, and all hell breaks loose. 

Bloodstains, bright red, catch your eye first. They’re splattered all over the room, on the floor, curtains, and on the hospital sheets yellowed with age. You see the bones next. Human; skulls, ribcages, femurs, all picked clean and white enough to shine under the fluorescent lighting. The light flickers. A tumorous mass sits in the center of the room, a conglomeration of hair, teeth, and eyes that blink slowly at you. Your spine stiffens, and immediately, you pull Megumi towards you as a ropelike strand of hair tightens around the spot where he was standing. 

Those fuckers. A Semi-Grade 1? 

“Megumi,” is all you can make out. In the hallway, you can hear something more menacing, something equally as terrible as what sits in the room inside with you. You can hear Nobara’s cry of pain as a nauseating crack rips through the air. They won’t survive without him. “I’m sorry.” 

His eyes widen in understanding a fraction too late as you gather all your energy and shove him back out into the corridor as the curse flings a file cabinet at you. It crashes into the door, and you can hear Megumi calling your name with something that sounds like desperation. The hinges rattle as he throws his weight against it, but the cabinet holds firm. When you turn to face the curse in front of you, the look in its eyes is amused as you draw your blade. A cavernous maw opens, splitting it down the center as misshapen lumps of flesh spill out. Smaller curses, remnants of the innocents it had lured and devoured. A sudden chill goes through your body. 

This isn’t a Semi-Grade. This is a full-fledged Grade 1. 

There’s something vicious in the way you move, tearing through cursed spirits as though they’re paper. Ichor stains the ground around you, as red as the blood you channel through your veins. Dimly, you think you’re screaming. It was a set up, you think desperately. Of course the higher-ups would try to kill Itadori Yuuji at any cost. They didn’t give a fuck about you, or Nobara, or Megumi. Fury fills the cavern of your chest as you lunge for the hulking Grade 1, as it grotesquely pushes out the corpse of one of its victims into something far more sinister. You rip it to shreds without a second thought. 

The sound of steel on flesh makes the hair of your arms rise as you finally manage to cut a nasty gash into the misshapen curse in front of you. It howls in pain, tendrils reaching for your body as you leap away. Instead, the tendrils open the serrated wound a bit further, opening a new pocket for its children to crawl out of. That was the first blow you’d been able to land; ten minutes have passed since you trapped yourself inside a room with it. Will you make it out alive? You shake the thought away angrily.

Gritting your teeth, you increase your blood flow, shooting it down to your legs and the fibers of your muscles. Your blade shines as it cuts down curses, the Grade 1 merely watching with a demeanor that you can only describe as bored. It’s toying with you, you realize, but what pricks your heart isn’t fear, but resignation. Your foot catches on the rubble for only a moment, and the Grade 1 moves, slamming you into the wall with enough force for you to feel your ribs shatter. Blood fills your mouth and you choke, lungs heaving. Punctured, your technique tells you, a liter gone. The air tastes like iron and salt, and you realize with a start that you’re dying. 

You feel oddly calm as the world spins, watching as the ropes of hair approach your prone body. The last thing you see is the door shattering open, and the look in Megumi’s eyes as he sees you. There’s terror in his normally stoic expression, his arm outstretched towards you as Nue dives for you. Nobara and Yuuji are moving, but all you can see is him. His hands are bloodied at the fingertips, as though he’d been clawing at the door with his own hands to pry it open, his lips moving soundlessly. There’s a dull ringing in your ears, the toll of death that signals your end. His hand cups your face, and you allow yourself to lean into it for a moment, reveling in the touch. I could die like this, is your final thought as you succumb to your injuries. I’m happy that you’re holding me, Megumi.

The world around you feels muted, when you finally awaken. Your vision is blurred as you peel your eyelids back, and you wince at the sensation. How long have you been out for? Slowly, the blurred tinges of light start to focus. A lamp, dimly lit to your right on the nightstand next to a pitcher of water and an empty cup. A punctured lung, a liter gone. Your hand drifts to the bandages that wrap your chest, carefully letting your cursed technique scan your body. A few lacerations, but for the most part you were fine. Crisp sheets rustle as you sit up, examining your surroundings. The hospital in the infirmary. Somehow, they managed to bring you back. 

Megumi’s eyes, so desperate and lost as his hand reached for you. 

You try not to think about it, as you carefully test your body. Your limbs ache, but that’s to be expected. Your hair has been neatly pulled away from your face; Nobara’s work, no doubt. Her screams from behind the door, the dread in your chest when you realized they might not survive without Megumi. You watch your fingers shake as you reach for the water, letting it soothe away the pain in your throat. Did she even make it? Did they live? 

The door opens, startling you from your thoughts. Megumi stands in the doorway, hand pushing through his hair. You take a moment to examine him, noting the dark circles under his pale skin, and how his long hair seemed mussed. His eyes scan the room, passing over you before focusing on you with startling clarity. 

“You’re awake.” 

Hesitantly, you nod, as he drops into the seat beside you. “Did…did they…”

He cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Kugisaki and Itadori are fine.” 

You stare down at your hands, letting the silence wash over you. Yet, you’re dimly aware of how suffocating it feels, how your shoulders were unable to relax even with the knowledge that your friends were alive and safe. Megumi continues to watch you, but before you can say something, anything,  his voice fills the air, terse and clipped. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Startled, your eyes meet his. “What?” 

“Did you think I was too weak? That I couldn’t handle it just because you’ve been a Grade 2 longer than I have?” The eyes that normally watched you with a hint of affectionate exasperation were cold, and hard. “You behaved recklessly. Did you even think about how it impacted the rest of us? Because of you, Kugisaki broke her leg, and Itadori almost had his arm cleaved off. You did all of that just for the rest of us to find you half dead in a puddle of your own bones and blood.” 

“Stop it,” you whisper, but Megumi’s voice only twists into something far more cruel. “You thought you were being so brave, sacrificing yourself, only to realize that you weren’t that special. You couldn’t even take down that Grade 1 alone. Kugisaki had to save you, even as she was practically screaming from the pain.” 

“Megumi,” you whisper, and he pauses, clearly unused to his name falling from your lips. “Why are you so angry at me?” Your voice breaks ever so slightly and you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, ashamed at the wetness in your eyes. “Where is this coming from? I don’t understa-” 

He slams his palm against the wooden surface of your bedside table, rattling the drawers. “Are you really that stupid to ask what you did wrong? You fucked up. I thought you were different, but in reality, you’re no better than the rest of your clan, are you? You’re just another filthy Kamo.” 

Your hands shake as you twist them into the off-white infirmary sheets. “What are you talking about?” 

Megumi laughs, but it’s jaded, sharp. “Congratulations. You’re being promoted to a Semi-Grade 1, all because of your little stunt that landed the rest of us into hospital beds. Even though we all had to help you finish it off, they’re only choosing you. I wonder why.” 

“Megumi.” Your voice rises, as your heart finally shatters. “I did it because I thought you would die, you know that. I don’t give a fuck about the politics of the higher ups, or my clan, or even my grade. I just wanted to protect you all. You know that.” 

He rises from the chair next to your side, expression indifferent to the tears that are rolling down your cheeks. “As if I’d believe you.” 

“Megumi,” you call out, desperately, as he walks away. “Megumi!” 

He doesn’t look back, and you’re left alone in the dark with only the moon to bear company as you sob. I don’t understand, you think, deliriously. Can’t you see that I love you? Can’t you see I’d rather die than watch you break in front of me? 

Megumi barely makes it to the lawn before he retches into the bushes. Bile rises in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut as he replays the moment over and over and over again. For five days, he’d held vigil at your bed. For five days, he realized that your love for him would get you killed. For five days, he’d wrapped his heart in iron, knowing that what he was about to do would break the both of you. I would’ve only gotten you killed, he thinks, numbly. It’s what landed you here in the first place. 

Yet, Megumi can’t stop recalling the exact moment the relief in your eyes had turned into betrayal, how your lips had trembled and your hands shook. Your voice, desperate and pleading, calling his name as he forced his legs to walk away from you. How he can hear your sobs faintly trailing from the windows above, matching the tears that are trailing down his cheeks. 

You’ll hate him forever, he thinks, dazed, as he forces himself onto his feet. You’ll hate him forever, and by god it’ll be the most painful thing he’s ever experienced, but as long as you’re alive he can bear it. As long as he never has to see you there again, laying in a heap of your own blood, eyes dazed and unseeing, he will carry the sins that it takes to keep you alive and away from him. 

I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry that someone like me ever fell for someone like you. I love you so much that the thought of being without me tears me to shreds. I love how you take care of my shikigami like they're your own. I love how every touch you give me heals something that I didn't know I was missing. I love you, and I need you to live more than I need air to breathe.

I love you, and even though I don't think you'll ever forgive me, I'll always follow wherever you go.

[gilverrwrites]

Their Perfect Date HCs [Angel edition]

Rating: General

Human Edition | Monster Edition

Please remember: There is strength in softness.

Cas

Absolutely brings you flowers. 

Hear me out: fruit picking!

Something like strawberries

Spend the day outdoors in the sunny weather, chatting, walking, picking and comparing fruits. 

Maybe a picnic at the end where you can refuel, and Cas can bask in the sun. Enjoy people/nature watching together. 

Then you take him home and make your harvest into something; a pie, wine, jelly/jam.

Put him in a frilly apron and boop flour on his nose, he’s in love. 

Cas won’t partake in the consumption, but he’ll enjoy watching you, and earnestly listen to your review.

Gabriel 

Brings you chocolates/candy.

(Obviously, he has ideas, plans, and wants of his own, to a dangerous extent but) Gabe at his core just wants to impress you, don’t give him choices because he’s very much a ‘whatever you want’ kinda guy in those scenarios. His ideal date is whatever your ideal date is. 

What do you want for dinner? ‘Whatever you fancy sugar’, your wish: my command.’  Do you prefer the red outfit, or the black? ‘I think you look smokin’ in both, pick whatever you feel good in.’ Do you want pasta or pizza? ‘I want a pizza you. Do you want pasta or pizza?’

Plus, he loves simultaneously using indecisiveness to wind you up and to force you to make decisions for yourself, to voice your own wants and needs.  

Ultimately though, I think his ideal date would be something surprisingly simple. 

Like a coffee date.

Or hot/boozy hot/chocolates and pancakes at a dessert restaurant. 

Tell him about your proudest moments, your favourite everything, your biggest adventures, your fondest dreams, so he can soak you in. 

He’ll tell you about his own escapades, drops some big names, about his early days on earth, and so on. 

Somewhere you can spend hours chitchatting, sharing stories, and getting to know each other, while getting high on sugar and playing footsie under the table. 

Jack

Isn’t sure which is most appropriate or which you would like most, so he brings you all the gifts! Chocolate, flowers, soft toys, you name it! 

But then he gets nervous and thinks it’s too much, so he only gives you the flowers.

Until you’re halfway through your date, when things are just easy and relaxed. He confesses and gives you the other stuff at the end of your date. 

As for the date itself it would be something classic but fun; bowling, mini golf, roller skating. 

If it’s score-based, he won’t be competitive, but also will not let you win. 

If the venue does food, and you’re struggling to pick he’ll order your second choice so the two of you can split and share.

Will find any excuse to try and hold your hand throughout. 

Lucifer 

Does not bring a gift. Come on, he’s all the gift you need. 

Lucifer is not easy to take on a date. (He’s not easy in any regard really.) Especially when you take into account his distaste for all things human.

If he’s earnestly asked you on a date/agreed to a date, then the only salvageable factor is you. No pressure.   

And it's not like he can just fly you away to another galaxy or something, cause you know, human bodies don’t tend to do well in the vacuum of space. 

Plus, he’s so contraire you could spend hours listing ideas and he would bat down every single one. (Secretly loving every moment because he gets to spend time with you, making you laugh as he comes up with more and more ridiculous reasons to reject your ideas). 

Really though, just take him with you on your daily routine, or even like, your ideal day. Let him bitch about all the humans in the grocery store, let him try your favourite foods, him laugh at the kid who dropped their ice cream, and let him watch you geek out at the book/video/hobby store without embarrassment. Just let him experience your true self, while letting him be his true self. 

No policing him, just pure unadulterated freedom with the person he loves.    

Michael 

Brings you chocolates, but not like fancy ones. Adam advised that gifts were customary in human dating culture, but didn’t specify which kind, so he got you a selection of candy bars, the same kind that Adam seems to enjoy. 

Something outdoorsy and active but with a view; Hiking, rock climbing, or even just a long walk on the beach. 

Something where you can find a nice place to settle and watch the clouds and/or stars together. 

If stargazing, he will teach you about the different constellations, their creation, and their stories. 

Will be absolutely enamoured if you already know some of it and are able to have a back-and-forth conversation. 

Adam also tried to teach him some other dating tricks, like fake stretching to put his arm around you, but that seems redundant. If he wants to put his arm around you, he will simply do so. 

Short circuits a little when you lean in closer and rest your head on his chest/shoulder. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Aeternum

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: your life with Lloyd is a lot of work. Or rather, he is.

This is one of my birthday drabbles. Thanks again for your input :) Enjoy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A birthday drabble for Carpe Noctem 

You stare at the small screen of the smart device. The smell of cinnamon fills the kitchen as you stand in wait of the baking desserts. You lean in to get a better view of the news segment. Your ears tweak at the reporter’s words. 

‘The sole survivor remains in the ICU with severe burns but healthcare personnel see a full recovery. As for those who passed, the survivor’s parents, they have been interred in the local cemetery and the service brought out hundred.’ 

They show images of the funeral; flowers, solemn faces, the front of a church.  

“Why are you watching that shit?” Lloyd, as always, knows when to barge in. 

“Alexa, stop playing,” you command the device and the screen returns to rest, showing the time and weather. “Just the news.” 

“I told you not to worry about that idiot.” He grunts as you face him. He tries to cross his arms then puts them straight, shaking out his left. He’s slick with sweat and his workout gear clings to his muscles. “I fucked up. Thought I killed him but the damn cockroach managed to drag himself out. What a pussy. Can’t even save his own parents.” 

“Lloyd. You--” 

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, mimi, your soft heart.” He leers at you and winks. “Softer body.” He sticks his tongue out and wince. He bends his elbow and rubs it. 

“What wrong with your arm?” You sigh. 

“Nothing. Old college injury. You know I was varsity, right? Coulda gone national but I made more money... doing something else.” 

“Right,” you sniff and go to the oven. You peer through the lit window at the spiral cookies. 

“What’s the point of me putting in all this work in the gym when you’re just fattening me up?” He scoffs. 

“You don’t have to eat the cookies.” You glance at the time on the small screen above the stove. 

“I have a nose and a stomach. I can’t resist.” He shuffles around the kitchen and surprises you as he comes up behind you. “Just like I can’t resist you.” 

“The cookies are for the shelter.” You stiffen as he wraps his arms around you and pulls your ass against him. “I told you several times not to touch.” 

“Mimi, you’re spending all my money.” 

You huff and look around at the spacious kitchen; stacked ovens, a hug marble island, a fridge with a glass door, a whole other fridge for just wine, and every single appliance you might need but have yet to use. You grab his wrists as he squeezes your hips. 

“I think you have more than enough. What else am I supposed to do?” 

“Have some wine, put on a thong, hop on my dick,” he purrs and rocks you with him, locking his hold on you. “You got your choice. The hot tub, the pool, sauna, hell, sit out in the sun and read one of your Austen joints. Want me to dress up like Darcy? Bit of role play?” 

“Stop,” you push on his arms and writhe. 

“What’s a matter, mimi? You weren’t so shy last night. Or yesterday afternoon. Or after lunch. Or in the morning.” 

You sneer and tear his hands away from your hips. You turn to him and poke his shoulder. He groans and rubs it. 

“Ow, you know that’s still healing.” 

“I told you to go to a real doctor,” you snip. 

“Mimi, they don’t touch me like you do.” He furls his fingers and his throat bobs. He runs his thumbs along his shorts and tugs. “Damn, just the thought—how about a cool down? I just chugged a protein shake, I gotta get it out.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He tilts his head. “Mommy, please.” 

“No, especially if you’re going to pull that.”  

You spin as the timer dings and you grab the oven mitts. You shut off the buzzer and take out the cookies. You put the pan on the counter to cool and hang the mitts again. 

“Mimi...” Lloyd drawls out as he closes in. 

You evade him. Keeping a step ahead as you scurry along the island. He pursues and you turn to face him as you round the corner. 

“I said no. I’m not in the mood.” 

“Why? Because that limp dick is in the hospital--” 

“Stop.” You whine and backpedal away from him as his advance continues. “Lloyd, I’m telling you to stop. I have to make a trip downtown to deliver the cookies--” 

“Really? You do? Because you don’t leave without me. Remember? Those are the rules.” He gets closer and closer.  

You peer around as you feel blindly and walk back on your heels. You pass through the doorway into the front room. You barely dodge the sofa and the little round table next to it. 

“Lloyd.” 

“Mimi.” 

“Leave me alone. I’m telling you.” 

“Keep telling me. It's making me hard.” He snickers. 

You veer through the next doorway and stumble as he lunges. He pulls back and laughs again. He’s taunting you. 

“Oh, I like this game, Mimi.” 

“I’m not playing,” you reach to grab the banister as you step towards the stairs. 

He takes a deep breath and stops. “Neither am I.” 

His smirk sends a chill through you. You freeze at the bottom step and gulp. You look up then back at him. In an instant, you’re barreling up, desperate to get to the top. As your feet slap on the stairs, his treads trail you up calmly. 

Shit. This is the last thing you need. No matter what or when, you always manage to provoke him. Every breath, every blink, every word only entices him. It’s tiring. Without a job, without your friends, it feels like your nothing more than toy. Any search for a different purpose just amuses him. 

You race down the hall. You have to make a quick decision. You burst into the bathroom and spin to swing the door shut. It bounces back as Lloyd shoves his sneaker between it and the frame. He shoves in after you with a taunting grin. 

You stagger back and search for any form of defence. You know it’s pointless. There’s no escape, no fight to be had, but you just want him to let you think for two minutes without mentioning his dick. You grab the bottle of hair spray and aim it at him. You push down and he coughs, waving his hand through the cloud of stickiness. 

He swats the aerosol from your hand and grabs your other arm. You whimper as he wrenches you toward him. He turns and pens you in against the floating counter. He tuts down at you as you push on his stomach. 

“Oh, mimi,” his eyes flick above you. “That’s a great fucking idea.” He grips your shoulder and twists you around to face the counter. “I’d love to watch.” 

He keeps you trapped as you slap a hand on the marble and try to shove him away with the other. He stretches the elastic of his shorts and they fall to his feet. You wriggle as he wraps his arm around you and leans you against the counter. 

His other hand snakes under your skirt. One of the many pieces stocked in your closet. None of them fit right. They all flutter a bit too high on your thigh. 

“Lloyd,” you beg. “Later. Not—now.” 

“Too fucking late. My dick hurts.” 

“Stop!” You throw and elbow back into his ribs. He grunts and nuzzles your hair. 

“Don’t mess around.” He warns. 

He kicks your feet apart and peels your panties down your thighs. The strip of lace strains around your legs. He bends you further as he feels around. He brings his tip down to your cunt and prods you, tapping, and rubbing. 

“Mm, I feel you shaking for me, Mommy.” 

“Please--” you gasp. 

“You don’t gotta beg,” he boats. 

“Urgh, get—off!” You bend your arm awkwardly and once more poke at his shoulder. He exclaims but persists.  

He lines up as he bares his teeth, hooking his jaw over your shoulder. The anger pulses in his forehead as he glares at your reflection. He snaps his hips and impales you with a growl. You cry out and brace the counter as your legs buckle. 

“Ow!” You plead with him in the mirror. Eyes misty, eyes pouting. 

His lips curve deeper as he thrusts, jerking your hip bones into the marble. His hand crawls up to your chest and he squeezes your chest with a snarl. He tilts his head and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He ruts as his eyes blaze back at you from the glass. 

His hand snakes down your stomach and delves beneath your skirt. You hide beneath your eyelids as he finds your clit. He flicks over your hood and you spasm. You mewl as he does it again and again. Worse than his strength is his talent at toying with you. Even as you resist, he finds your weak spot and needles away at it. 

“Mmm,” he purrs as he unlatches his teeth and kisses up your neck. 

His mustache tickles as he pounds against your ass, fingers sliding around your slickness, breath fogging around your chest. Your thighs quiver and your feet arch. You bend forward a little more and he hits just the right spot. 

You cum in a ripple of pathetic moans. You’re breathless and weak. You slump onto your elbow and he growls as you open to him completely.  

He frames your hips and pumps into you until his motion turns erratic. He groans and grunts, digging his nails through the fabric as he pulls out. He cums down your thigh as you hang off the counter.

He lets out a gurgle and snaps his knuckles against your ass. He moves rigidly as he turns and leans his bare ass on the marble beside you. He rubs your back as you gulp and catch your breath.

You stand up but he stops you from grabbing a tissue to wipe up. He’s shameless as his shorts still cling around one ankle. 

“Hey, baby cakes, get my shorts for me? Think I pulled something.” 

You scowl at him as he emphatically clutches his side. You sniff and wave him off. You grab a washcloth and wet it under the faucet. You wipe yourself off and toss the balled fabric into the sink. 

“Pull your own shorts up,” you sneer. 

“I mean it, Mimi, my back’s all sorts of locked up. You got me all bound up.” He gives a pathetic whimper. “Please, take care of me like you always do.” 

You shake your head and squat down to grab the shimmering puddle of shorts. This is ridiculous. He lifts his feet to hook it through and as you tug them up his legs, an odd weight hangs in the flimsy fabric. His dick twitches just as you cover it up and let the elastic snap him meanly. 

“You feel that, Mimi,” he catches your hand and pulls it back to him. You try to shake him off but can’t. “Am I happy to see you or is that a ring in my pocket?” He brushes your palm over his dick and to his pocket. The shape you felt is sharper than you expect. You look up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to get on one knee.” 

He guides your hand to the top of his pocket and lets go. Your heart thumps as you reach inside and pull out the heart-shaped box. The lid opens like wings from the middle. You reveal the sapphire trimmed diamond inside. Each stone bigger than the next. 

You gape at the sparkling cluster. Lloyd chuckles and strokes your cheek. He cups your chin and raises it. As you look at him, he smirks again. 

“You take care of me, I take care of you,” he traces his thumb along your lip. “Speaking of, I’m fucking serious about my back. Can I get some help?” 

[alltoomaples]

Keep Driving - LN

Hash brown, egg yolk I will always love you <33

pairing: fem!ambitious reader x lando norris

synopsis: you and Lando Norris escape the pressures of daily life for a spontaneous road trip.

a/n: ayooo! first off, thank you sm for all the love on speed of science! appreciate y'all reading and hope you like it :))

this one was like unexpected quick write up cause lately I've been listening to keep driving and i adore this song like tooooo much!! and lowkey, i miss going on car drives too :"")) speaking of drives, mclaren 2-3 for sprint tomorrow! ain't that big fan of sprints but I've got my hopes and manifesting podiums this weekend for my mclaren boys✨️👀🧡

hope you guys enjoy reading this! let me know if you guys have any other suggestions/requests! much love and happy sprint-race weekend🧡✨️🫶🏼

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

. . . .

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of your cozy beachfront cottage, casting a warm glow over the room. You woke up to the comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee, and the sound of Lando bustling in the kitchen. A smile tugged at your lips as you stretched and got out of bed, following the delicious scent.

In the kitchen, Lando was making pancakes, flipping them with a flourish and a cheeky grin. "Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Morning," you replied, wrapping your arms around him from behind and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Pancakes and coffee? You're spoiling me."

"Only the best for you," he said, turning around so he faces you, kissing the top of your head. The simplicity of the moment—a shared breakfast, laughter, and teasing—was perfect. But underneath the surface, there was a restless energy in both of you.

As you sat down to eat, the conversation turned to the pressures you both faced. Lando's racing career was demanding, and your own hectic life left little time for moments like these. The weight of it all had been building up, and you could see the same feelings reflected in Lando's eyes.

"What if we just… escaped for the day?" you suggested on a whim. "No plans, no schedule. Just us and the open road."

Lando's face lit up at the idea. "I love it. Let's do it."

With a quick change of clothes and a packed bag of essentials, lando throws the keys at you, and you jump into his car. Driving is something you both took turns as you loved driving and Lando was the type of guy who'd make sure to consider asking you if you'd want to drive them together which in this case, you wanted to start off the journey. The Harry Styles track "Keep Driving" started playing through the speakers as you turned the key. The song's rhythm seemed to sync perfectly with the pulsing excitement in your veins. As the coastal road outside Monaco stretched out before you, the promise of freedom was intoxicating.

As you drove, the conversations flowed effortlessly. You talked about your fears and dreams, the pressures of your lives, and the desire to break free from it all.

Every so often, Lando would squeeze your hand or glance over with a smile that made your heart flutter. The connection between you felt stronger than ever, deepened by the shared experiences and heartfelt discussions.

The day was filled with spontaneous adventures. You found a hidden beach and took a surprise dip in the crystal-clear water, laughing and splashing like children. Later, you climbed rocky cliffs to find the best views, the exertion forgotten in the face of the breathtaking scenery. Lando’s playful side shone as he challenged you to little races and stole kisses whenever he got the chance.

As evening approached, the weather took a sudden turn. Dark clouds rolled in, and soon, heavy rain began to pour down. You found shelter in a small, quaint diner off the beaten path. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the storm outside. Over hot chocolate and a shared dessert, you both found comfort in each other's presence, appreciating the calm amidst the chaos.

The stormy night prompted a moment of reflection. Sitting in the diner, you and Lando discussed the significance of the day’s journey. You realized that no matter the storm outside, as long as you were together, you could weather anything.

Once the storm subsided, you headed back to the car, deciding to keep driving into the night. The road was quiet, lit only by the headlights and the occasional passing car. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, filled with laughter and gentle teasing. The journey seemed endless, but with every mile, you felt more at peace.

As dawn broke, you found yourselves at a beautiful overlook, just in time to watch the sunrise. The sky was painted with soft pastel colors, symbolizing a new beginning. You and Lando sat on the hood of the car, wrapped in a blanket, feeling the warmth of the rising sun. Keep Driving played again softly in the background, reinforcing the theme of moving forward together.

In the quiet morning light, you snuggle closer to Lando, deep sigh leaving your lips, feeling content and grateful for everything. Your career is going great, family and friends doing well and having great long drives with the love of your life. It's all good!

"Hey youuu" You said, looking up at him with adoration. You find his eyes soo beautiful, especially with the rays of sun sparkling in his. Lando took your hand, looking into your eyes with a tender smile and kisses your head.

“Let’s promise to keep driving,” he said, “no matter where the road takes us.”

“Always,” you agreed, sealing the promise with a heartfelt kiss.

. . . .

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ WHO DID IT? ❞

—poly!satosugu xmas shenanigans, satosugu x reader, justice for satoru he just wanted to make candy canes !

The day was going well. Splendid, even. It’s almost Christmas, and the chilly weather makes sure to remind you, flakes of snow peppering the ground and crunching beneath your boots. You’ve completed the task of some nice, last minute shopping for your husbands’ students, picking up some coffee orders, not forgetting a few of Gojo’s favorite desserts from that same coffee shop, and then you were back home in no time. Walking inside, you’re engulfed with a feeling of warmth and coziness, the smell of sugar with a hint of peppermint permeating in the air. Your call of ‘I’m back!’ suspiciously goes unanswered, but you assume your husbands are either distracted or out of earshot.

The honeyed scent of sugar grows stronger as you enter the kitchen, setting bags of gifts and groceries on the floors and countertops. Speaking of countertops…your brows knit, mouth agape in absolute shock as you really take in the center of what was once gorgeous marble. You hear Gojo’s boisterous laughter in the living room, Geto’s faint conversation underneath, and make a beeline straight for them. Upon your arrival, Geto spots you first, and the wide-eyed glance he shares between you and Gojo is very telling.

It’s a simple question.“Who did it?”

And yet getting an answer, at least from one of them, is like pulling teeth.

Satoru halts mid-sentence, turning to beam innocently at you, ignoring the bitter look in your eyes, out for blood. If Suguru’s simmering glare at his idiot counterpart is any indication, then you’ve already gotten your answer.

Said idiot is so good at playing dumb, as if something like this isn’t obviously his doing. “What’s wrong, baby?”

A small breath of exasperation leaves Geto as he takes in the interaction. He thinks Gojo is really in for it this time, he can tell by your body language alone that you’ve got some choice words for this man. Maybe you’ll actually kill him this time. Geto chuckles a good riddance, so low even he can barely hear it. Can’t afford to show too much amusement, lest he get caught in the whirlwind of your fury.

Your foot taps, impatient. Brand new countertops. Not even a month old, they told you to consider them as part of an “extra early Christmas gift”. Ruined with large, faded, circular marks right in the center, on display, and faintly reeking of peppermint.

Suguru grows hot as your furious gaze shifts to him, finger with a mind of its own as it points to Gojo. “He wanted to make candy ca–“

“What the hell, I thought we had an agreement?”

“I’m not taking the fall for this with you over that dumbass idea.”

“Dumbass? You were on board when I suggested it!”

“And that was my mistake for assuming you’d done more than five minutes of research and knew what you were doing.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get in the spirit of Christm– ow!”

The sharp pinch on his ear leaves Satoru yelping like a hurt dog, stumbling along as you drag him into the kitchen, and Geto takes extreme joy in the small snippets of Gojo’s excuses as he fails to plead his case.

“Baby, my extremely beautiful, lovely, gorgeous wife, I just miscalculated a little, a tiny mist–“

“Mistake?” With your incredulous tone, one can only imagine the look on your face right now. “Look what you did to the countertop, Satoru, don’t come in my damn kitchen tryna be a professional chef or candy maker or whatever!”

A groan. “Technically,” and Suguru cringes immediately, head sinking back on the couch. “It’s all of our kitchen.”

The immediate silence afterward is heavy enough to weigh down a bear. Followed shortly by Satoru’s meek “Ya know what, you’re so right, baby. Your kitchen.”

[ichigo-dream]

Leon Kennedy - Eating Headcannons (SFW + NSFW)

Dream and I were having a drinks sesh cause the weather is good with us atm, and we ended up having a full discussion about Leon and eating. We were discussing the criteria to qualify as what we have coined a “neo fem-boy”, and how Leon has a lilll bit of squish to him despite the muscle - cause baby boy likes to EAT (both figuratively and metaphorically). Leon canonically put on 40 lbs of pure muscle between RE 2 and RE 4, yet he still somehow looks a lil bit soft and squishy soooooo we had to write this shit down.

Basically we just wanna eat up soft Leon, enjoy~

SFW

It's established canon that this man wants dinner all the time (see Leon in Infinite Darkness and Damnation)

This boy is hobbit-coded - baby boy needs at least three square meals a day - we’re talking full fry up in the morning, actual lunch and a spread for dinner. Might even squeeze in brunch and supper while he’s at it.

Snack, snacks, snacks - always snacking on something.

Having low blood sugar and being in a relationship with Leon is a match made in Heaven.

Lil baby has a sweet tooth

His jacket and coat pockets will always have some form of sweet in them - gum, lollipops, hard boiled sweets, Tiic Tacs, jawbreakers,

Any time you’re in the car together or watching a film, you can hear the hard sugar shell clacking against his teeth.

Will hide food, and eat in bed - you get into bed after a long day and when your head hits the pillow, you’ll hear a plastic rustle. Reaching under you’ll find a half-eaten packet of cookies or biscuits he’d been snacking on earlier that he had shoved under your pillow.

Will finish your food for you

Birthdays are his fav - any excuse to have cake this boy will use it - will eat any kind, but boy is a slut for vanilla cake and strawberry jam filling - you will often have to wipe the cream and jam from the corners of his mouth.

Will fuck up a strawberry sundae especially in the summer time.

Speaking of summer, it’s one of his favourite seasons

Loves to eat outside in the sunshine when it’s hot and balmy

Perfect weather for ice cream or milkshakes – and he won’t waste a single drop. If he notices some trickling down the cool glass in his hands, he’ll lick it up, completely oblivious to how the small action makes you blush.

You’ll often catch him eating his cereal standing up, watching TV or nosying at the neighbours having an argument in the streets below, still in his pyjama bottoms.

Loves milkshake straws - has a collection of different flavours - though, when he doesn’t use a straw, he is always oblivious to the cute lil milkstache.

Will squirt cream straight into his mouth in front of the fridge.

Weddings, and other events are the worst for him, as whilst he loves desserts, they rarely serve his favourites.

“I fucking hate pavlova” he grumbles, proceeding to eat it anyway, just to get his sugar fix.

Loves fruit - will eat raspberries one by one off the tips of his fingers.

You’ll catch him eating ice cream sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge in the middle of the night, sucking on his spoon and looking at you like a deer in headlights when he sees you standing there watching him.

Will get cranky if he doesn’t get to eat - hangry vibes

If he wakes up late, he will refuse to leave without breakfast - this boy will run out the door with a piece of toast in his mouth like an anime school girl.

His RPD uniform has lots of “fancy pockets” and what are they good for? Emergency snack storage - nuts, sweets, biscuits, dried fruit. 

For his birthday, you buy him candy bracelets - heart eyes for days - and he sits and absent-mindedly sucks on them at his desk at work, thinking of you.

NSFW

As a birthday present, you wear a candy necklace during sex and Leon attacks your neck, sucking and biting at it whilst he fucks you.

Due to his habits, he always tastes sweet - all of him tastes sweet if you catch our drift (ya, his cum)

Whilst he’s squirting cream into his mouth, if you happen to be walking past and notice some of it lingering on the corners of his mouth and decide to lick it off, baby boy will forget everything he’s doing and fuck you over the kitchen table.

Speaking of cream - will use it on you when he fucks you, kitten-licking the sweet dollops off your warm skin (tits, collarbones, stomach - he's gonna eat you up)

If you’re curious about something he’s eating and want to taste some, he’ll kiss you in lieu of sharing (Leon is only possessive over two things - you and food).

Big into gum sharing - will use it as an excuse to start making out with you.

If things get a little messy when you’re eating cake, he will lick your hands clean if he’s in the mood.

Leon is a munch in more ways than one.

This boy will eat you out of house and home, including your pussy.

Could eat three square meals a day and will still go down on you like he’s starving.

Kitchen? Bedroom? Sofa? Standing up? Doesn’t matter - man’s is ready to munch anytime anywhere.

Whilst he’s eating you out, he’ll rut his hips against the bed - the sugar rush means he is always full of energy and ready to go at all times.

Will suck on your clit like it's a gobstopper.

Gets bratty when he hasn’t had a snack - but, it just so happens that he considers you to be the sweetest one.

Be prepared to be fucked within an inch of your life when he gets like this - or for him to eat you out until you can’t walk (will bring you a snack afterwards ofc).

This man gained 40lbs of muscle— but like we said, baby boy is still soft  

Leon puts you in a headlock whilst he fucks you and his biceps have a nice lil bit of squish which you relish in when he chokes you.

His ass jiggles - when he’s lying stomach down on bed, you love slapping it when you walk past and watching it jiggle like jelly - this action without fail will make him blush and whine “Stop!” every time.

You like to bite him

He’s too cute and squishy to resist honestly

Playfully nibbling his plump lil cheek

Biting his thick arms

When you’re riding him and can’t resist playfully kneading his tits like a kitten, and it makes him grab your wrists and fuck into you harder - he’ll later claim that him turning red from his cheeks to his chest was from exertion and not embarrassment.

He is the comfiest place to lie on when you’re fucked out and riding the waves of post-orgasmic bliss.

If you made it this far, comment “Bingo!”

Thank you for reading!

Love,

Ichigo and Dream xoxo

[aspens-dragons]

dragon type ask game

dragonite: do you tend to prefer pokemon based on looks or power?

kingdra: what's your ideal vacation spot?

flygon: what's a pokemon you think should have a mega evolution/z-move/gigantamax form?

altaria: do you have a favorite type of weather condition?

salamence: if you had a 4x weakness to a type, what would it be?

garchomp: who's your favorite gym leader/trial captain/elite four/kahuna/champion?

haxorus: do you know how to use a weapon? which one(s)? how did you learn how to use it/them?

druddigon: what's a pokemon you think deserves more attention on this site?

hydreigon: what's something you're tired of being nice about? something that makes you just want to go apeshit? something that makes you unreasonably irate?

dragalge: be toxic. @ another user and start some beef (ROTUMBLR USER @ASPENS-DRAGONS DOES NOT TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR ANY RUINED RELATIONSHIPS AS A RESULT OF THIS QUESTION)

tyrantrum: what's your favorite fossil pokemon?

goodra: what something you tend to get sentimental/sappy over?

noivern: what music have you been listening to lately?

turtonator: how do you feel about fireworks?

drampa: shout out an older person (ie older sibling, mentor, parent, grandparent, friend, literally anybody) in your life you appreciate!

kommo-o: what's the biggest pokemon you've ever seen in real life? (not dynamaxed or gigantamaxed. because fuck you galar (/silly))

flapple: start yapping about the first thing that comes to mind

appletun: what's your favorite dessert?

dracozolt: what's something you don't think people talk enough about on this website?

dracovish: what's something you think people talk too much about on this website?

dragapult: do you like sports? is there any you're particularly good at?

cyclizar: WHOOSH!! have you ever ridden on a pokemon before? what pokemon was it? would you do it again?

tatsugiri: is there anybody you would consider your other half? your comrade in arms? your most trusted companion? the herlock to your sholmes?

baxcalibur: would you rather live somewhere it's hot all year round or cold all year round? why?

roaring moon: what's a place you want to go, even though you're not allowed to be there?

koraidon: what's something from the past you think is really cool?

miraidon: what's something you're excited to see in the future?

archaludon: hi. i spent almost half an hour trying to figure out a good question for this guy. i got nothing. im so sorry archaludon you don't deserve this. what's your favorite steel type?

hydrapple: do you like fairs or carnivals? what's your favorite part?

[aureatchi]

⛇₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ SANTA TELL ME IF HE REALLY CARES ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, nikolai, sigma

the pm is hosting a christmas party for yokohama! everyone is encouraged to bring a gift for the people they love…so what do the bsd men get you?

info. fem!reader. sm fluff. profanities from chuuya ofc LOL, them trying to outdo each other for you. pm hq has a rooftop floor here. implied reader is in the ada. wc. 3.1k

You walked inside the lavish lobby of the port mafia headquarters to be greeted by DAZAI, who immediately embraced you in his arms.

“Bella! You made it!” he exclaimed, pulling you in. You could feel the heat of his body warming you up, relieving you of the chilly weather outside.

“Of course, Osamu,” you giggled. “Wouldn’t want to miss something super special as this.”

Still trapping you in his hug, he led you down the hallway, one hand moving to playfully pat your head. Security guards parted to let the two of you through, entering the room where everyone was.

“So many people!” you exclaimed when you entered the headquarters’ formal dining hall decorated in Christmas festivities. Everyone was either chatting about or gathering by a table to get sweet desserts or hot chocolate.

“Want some hot chocolate to warm up, angel?” Dazai asked, looking towards the line.

“No thanks,” you replied. “You’ve warmed my heart up already.”

He gave you a smug smile in response, but you didn’t miss the light pink that also flushed his cheeks.

“Come over here.”

You followed Dazai as he made his way to a different table filled with wrapped presents and bags alike.

Dazai took one of them—the gift bag in your favorite color and handed it to you.

“For the gift exchange,” he smiled. “Merry Christmas, bella. I hope you like it.”

Your eyes lit up in joy, grateful and excited to see what he had gotten you. “Thank you!”

The first thing you pulled out of the bag was a custom heart pendant in your preferred metal—Dazai knew whether you liked silver or gold better. When you unclasped the locket, you saw matching pictures of you and Dazai inside, both bundled up in the snow. It was a good memory to look back at.

“This is so cute, Osamu.” You closed the locket and let the brunette place the jewelry around your neck.

“It looks even better on you.”

The second thing inside the bag was a box. Pulling it out, you saw that it was a Lego flower set.

“As much as you love flowers, they don’t last forever. However, these do!” You grinned widely at the thought and matching gift—Dazai always easily recalled your favorite things.

“We can build them together, too,” he continued, and you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love them. You’re amazing at getting gifts.”

“I wouldn’t expect that at all.” Your attention was brought to the ginger-haired who had his arms crossed beside the both of you, a cheeky grin on his face. CHUUYA had a mug of eggnog in his hand, though you knew for sure he’d rather have a glass of red wine reserved for the evening party instead.

“Chuuya!”

“What’s up, doll?” he smiled, a different, sweeter tone entirely, as he strode towards you.

“What do you mean by that?” Dazai asked, referring to Chuuya’s earlier comment.

“Thought your taste in gifts would be shitty, just like you,” he chuckled as you greeted him with a hug.

“Hey, that’s a bit rude,” you whispered.

“Oh really?” Dazai responded with his own sarcastic laugh. “I’m not sure you could do any better.”

“You really underestimate me! Come with me, baby…we’re going to prove to the-thing-that-comes-with-the-discounted-bandages who really knows what to get a lady for Christmas!”

Dazai stood, jaw dropped, dramatically offended as Chuuya pulled you away.

You two walked to the other side of the room, where there were even more gifts under one of the many Christmas trees in the hall.

“Bastard,” Chuuya sulked under a scowl, picking up a box wrapped in crimson red, his statement color.

You chuckled in amusement. He riled up so easily, over something so trivial. “Don’t worry about him, Chuu. I already know I’m going to like what you got.”

“Ya better,” he replied, but cheered up from your words. “Are you able to hold it?”

He handed you the box, hovering his arms below for support in case you dropped it. Though it was a larger package, it was still a bit heavier than you expected.

“Yeah, I got it.” You then raised an eyebrow. What could be inside this gift?

You set it down on the nearest table, undoing the pretty bow of ribbon and wrapping paper that kept the mystery intact.

Inside, you were received with a record player.

“Oh, wow!”

You loved music, and you’d always wanted to start collecting vinyls as it looked cool, but everyone knew it was an expensive hobby.

Not only had Chuuya gotten that—a very nice one, too—he also got the records of your top ten favorite albums.

You looked through the covers, smiling with each new one you saw.

Chuuya explained a few things—how he was setting you up for good because he made sure you got a turntable player instead of a suitcase one, how you should replace the black slip mat with the white one he bought instead so your vinyls look prettier, how to not damage the records…you could hardly pay attention to him though because you were overjoyed at how thoughtful he was for that.

“You seem passionate. Do you collect them too?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to research to find something good enough for you.”

You could feel your heart melt. He had really spent time picking this out after you’d only mentioned you finding record players vintage and cool twice, and you’d never even pointed out you’d want it as a gift.

“Thank you, Chuuya,” you said, leaning towards him, burying your face in his neck. “I love it…especially how you recall my favorite albums, too.”

“Of course doll,” he replied, running his hands through your hair. “Merry Christmas.”

You could’ve stayed like that, but your little moment with the port mafia executive was ruined when Chuuya glanced over at one of the snack tables to find all the food had just disappeared.

“Now what the fuck?”

You followed, looking at what he was looking at. Then, you realized the man standing by the table with a piece of cake—the last piece of cake.

RANPO caught your gaze and jumped, hyper from all the sugar he consumed. “There you are!” He ran towards you and shoved you on the ground, away from Chuuya.

“Hey man, what the hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted in annoyance.

Ranpo acknowledged the ginger-haired only then, looking up from where he had you suffocating in his arms. “Huh? Oh, sorry, didn’t see ya there.”

Chuuya grew even more infuriated at the provoke.

“You tryna pick a fight?”

“You still want to after knowing how last time turned out?”

Ranpo was referring to their last encounter, where Chuuya had embarrassingly lost against him from a single blow. But you didn’t need to know that.

So, Chuuya used all his willpower to keep silent under an outraged glare as he watched Ranpo drag you away to make sure he didn’t bring up any details about it.

“I got you a gift too!” Ranpo exclaimed as you walked back towards where the other agency members were hanging out. “Wanna guess what it is?”

“Hm…some sort of treat, that’s for sure,” you replied.

“Partly correct!” he replied. “That’s not all that I got you though.”

“Oh? How generous!”

“No!” his response was stern. “A princess like you deserves more…as the world’s greatest detective, noone would know that better than me.”

You smiled. “You’re right, Ranpo.”

With that, he handed you one of the cutest gift baskets you’ve seen. The actual basket was snowman-themed, and inside was everything you wanted that could fit in it—that pajama set you had in your online shopping cart, the new skincare products you’ve wanted to try, your favorite candle—you hadn’t even ever mentioned it to him before. And, of course, a lot of chocolate. Of course, Ranpo would also be the best gift-buyer, using his knowledge to his advantage.

The one thing that really stood out to you, though, was a jar of Hershey kisses, with a note on it that said:

KISSES WHEN I’M NOT AROUND.

It even had a chibi-fied face of the cute brunette on it.

“This is my favorite thing in this gift,” you said.

“Of course, because I know you always miss me when I’m not there to kiss,” Ranpo confidently stated. “Which is why I came up with a solution! They’ll never be as sweet as me, but it works.”

You laughed in delight. It was a very creative idea. “This is amazing; thank you, Ranpo!”

Never knowing how to respond to thankfulness directly, he answered it with something else. “Hey, there’s something on your nose.”

“Really?” You moved a hand to feel what was on there, but Ranpo grabbed your wrist to prevent you. Instead, he bopped your nose with his lips.

“There was frosting,” he said, probably from when he excitedly greeted you earlier.

“You enjoyed those desserts, huh?” you asked, glancing at the depleted table once again.

“Yup! It was just lying there, and noone said anything about how much you could take, so…!” He paused, trying to remember something.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

…

You chatted with agency and port mafia members alike a while after. Everyone was having a good time, even when Chuuya started bickering with Dazai and challenged him to a duel.

“Shithead!

“Mackerel!”

“How about you talk once you grow another two inches?”

As everyone was being entertained by Chuuya breaking an entire wall by throwing Dazai through it, your eyes were distracted by an elaborate bouquet of roses and baby breaths that you hadn’t noticed before.

Curious because it wasn’t by any other gifts, you left the crowd to inspect it.

You were surprised when you picked the arrangement up and saw that it was addressed to your name on a note. However, there was no name to say who it was from.

You looked around to see if anyone was nearby that could’ve placed the flowers there. But everyone else was watching the fight.

You flipped the note over, seeing a sketch of an elevator and a four-number code on the back.

An elevator?

You scanned the hall once again. The only elevator there was the one at the corner, restricted to the port mafia. The guests weren’t allowed to use it, and a security pad was guarding it.

You hesitated but then decided to approach the door. If someone gave you the code they wanted and were permitting you to use it, right?

Once again, no one protested because they were all distracted watching Chuuya on the ceiling, making sure Dazai couldn’t touch him. You pressed the four numbers into the pinpad and were congratulated with a correct ding! sound and the elevator sliding open.

You stepped inside and realized there was only one button—to go up. You pressed it, and the doors closed, moving you up.

Luxurious as always, the elevator had a glass window, the entire city of Yokohama coming into view as you went higher. A few seconds in, you realized that the elevator wasn’t going to stop until you reached the top.

You still weren’t sure who had mysteriously invited you to meet them. You hoped it wasn’t the boss—the doctor in charge creeped you out, if you were being honest. But you figured it couldn’t be him because he was also downstairs, chilling with the agency’s president.

Your heartbeat raced as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, adrenaline surging in anticipation of the surprise, coupling with the chilly breeze outside. You had reached the rooftop.

“You’re so easy to tempt; those flowers drew you in faster than a blind mouse to a piece of cheese laid in a trap.”

You smiled as you heard the foreign accent of the person near the edge riddle you while admiring the entire city below. “Hi, Fedya.”

FYODOR turned around, violet eyes meeting yours.

“I should’ve known.” Of course, the enigma was him—conundra was the Russian’s signature.

“How in the world did you even get here?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. He always had his ways to infiltrate anywhere—through deception, through hacking, anything goes.

“I invited ourselves,” he smirked, and only then did you notice his two subordinates on the other side, one in fear as the other tried to trip him over the ledge. “Didn’t want to miss out on the gift-giving either.”

Fyodor took out a jewelry box. “I hardly get to see you. So I thought to get you something that you could wear everyday.

“And this one is special, to remind you of my presence even more.” He opened it, revealing a bracelet, and like Dazai, he also knew what color jewelry suited you best. It was nothing too showy—it was simple, but it was classy, timeless, just like him.

And you noticed what made it special. There was no clasp. It was made to be welded on the person’s wrist—a forever bracelet.

“Choose wisely,” Fyodor said as you looked in awe. “Which wrist, milaya?”

You quickly contemplated and held out one of your wrists towards him as he took out tweezers and a small laser. You watched as he delicately fastened the bracelet around your arm, making sure it sat on your wrist perfectly.

“Finished, fine with it?” he asked when he was done, and you lifted your hand toward the horizon.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” you responded candidly. Then, Fyodor lifted up his own sleeve under his coat, revealing a matching one. You were almost stunned, because you didn’t think he would be the type to wear anything other than a necklace.

“Merry Christmas, dorogaya,” he softly said, pressing you against his chest in a hug.

“WAIT, WAIT! Dove, there’s still me! Don’t seal away your heart just yet!”

“Huh?” You both turned towards NIKOLAI, who kindly but quickly moved Fyodor away from you.

The next thing you knew, there were foil snowman and reindeer balloons in your hand, white confetti popped over you, acting as snow, and the jester standing in front of you presenting a large gift.

“To be honest, I’m scared,” you admitted, knowing his chaotic, playful nature.

“Why?” he giggled. “Think I’m going to scare ya, baby? You can take my word, there’s no jumpscares in this one.”

“You better not be lying,” you said and removed the lid of the black box that reminded you of a magician’s top hat.

And he was being truthful because you were greeted with the exact opposite of remarkable. He had gifted you plain, white socks.

“Wow, Kolya. I never even knew you were capable of being mundane.”

He laughed once again as he just set the box in front of you, not saying anything more as you stared at him in confusion.

You took the socks out. Surely, there was a catch. He was acting too suspicious. And the entire gift was odd. You found nothing tampered with on the socks, though. And there was nothing else in the box. So why was it so big? And why did it look deeper than where the bottom stopped?

You nervously looked at Nikolai before sticking both hands in. You felt your way around the level until you realized the entire package floor felt like paper machete, something used in piñatas and things like that.

By instinct, you lifted a fist and punched through the box. You immediately punctured through the false bottom, uncovering your true gift.

He celebrated. “Smart girl!”

There was an assortment of plushies—many of them. You always asked Nikolai to help you get some whenever you found claw machines at amusement parks, so he knew you loved stuffed animals.

Then, there was a large, fluffy throw blanket, perfect for winter.

“I got that because I know you’re probably so cold when I’m not hugging you.” True. Nikolai encapsulated you like a blanket whenever he came over.

“The thought of having this didn’t even cross my mind,” you said. “Well, that goes for everything you do,” you chuckled.

“That was really creative; I love it, thank you!”

Nikolai popped more confetti, this time in pink hearts. “She loves it! Happy, happy Christmas!”

He swung you off the ground, spinning you with ease until your own head started spinning the opposite way.

“Gogol! I think she’s dizzy!”

The two-tone-haired casino owner had a concerned look on his face, and you couldn’t tell if it was because your eyes were unfocusing or because Nikolai was throwing you around so easily. Strong guy.

Nikolai stopped, realizing he had gotten too excited. “Sorry, dove! Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you responded, unable to keep your balance as you tripped over yourself. You landed on SIGMA’s torso, and he helped guide you to stand up properly again.

“Thanks, Sigma,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good, now that I get to see you again.” He lightly blushed, breaking eye contact as you smiled. “I’m glad to see you too.”

“I got you something as well,” he replied, showing his own present. “I’m not sure what the people downstairs got you, and mine isn’t as fancy as Dostoevsky’s nor as extraordinary as Gogol’s, but I hope you like it.”

You felt warm, even in the icy weather. “Awh, just hearing that you got something for me is more than enough,” you replied. “I am so grateful no matter what.”

You took the present and opened it, first greeted by a new set of poker cards. However, this one was different because when you sifted through them, you realized it was the Decay of Angel’s custom set. You had been wowed by Nikolai’s Joker and Fyodor’s Jack when you first saw them, always using the set when you played a game with others.

But there was also a new addition to this stack. You were on it, taking your place as the queen.

“What? Sigma, this is so cool!”

There was one more thing inside. Your favorite lipstick in your favorite shade.

Sigma loved the color and even more how it looked on you. He loved how his cheeks would stain whenever you kissed him there—the pigmented contrast to his paler skin. You hardly needed restocking as you loved the lipstick yourself, but it was always good to have another extra.

“Merry Christmas,” Sigma said as you opened the container and swatched it on your face. You looked as beautiful as ever.

“Merry Christmas, Sigma,” you responded, kissing his forehead. Then, you pulled a cookie wrapped in a napkin from inside your coat and placed it in his mouth.

“Saved it for you,” you giggled. “There’s a lot downstairs. Maybe they’ll let you guys in if I say I invited you. Well, at least you.”

i heard if u rb, u will receive x2 gifts this xmas from ur favs! reblogs are appreciated; they are your christmas gift to me! <3

tags : @kissesmellow21

© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + heart lights divider by benkeibear.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hi darling! You' ve done incredible works! Could you please take a request for Raymond Smith with competency and size kinks?

Thank you for reading this 🩷🩷🩷

Thank you so much!

For once, I am so fucking happy with this but I really hope you like it. No pressure tags @yourwinchesterbros @rayslittlekitten @youflickedtooharddamnit

Masterlist

Roll Your Own

Contains: Cannabis use, competency kink, size kink, oral sex (f receiving) P in V, fluff.

1.6 K words

Ray is good at everything he does

You watched as Ray carefully picked the flower away from its stem, placing it in the grinder before sealing it and twisting the top with practised, precise movements. Seconds later, he was softly sprinkling the finely ground herb on the rolling paper. Meticulous fingers placed the filter at the end and finally rolled the joint tight before he slid it in front of you. "There you go, Love."

He made his with the same precision, with the added addition of tobacco from a cigarette, and you sighed. "That shit will kill you know?"

He chuckled warmly and shook his head. "There's plenty of stuff that's going to kill me, and a good, old fashion fifty fifty is not one of them." He reached out, squeezing your knee lovingly before flicking on his lighter and lighting your joint, then his own. His eyes remained on you as you inhaled, and he waited until you puffed out a lung full of smoke before speaking. "Good?"

You nodded. "You always rolled good joints, even if you complain about the new school nonsense I like."

The weather was warm enough that all you needed to be comfortable was a blanket over your lap and Ray sitting next to you. He slung his arm around the back of the bench and over your shoulder, pulling you close as the smoke blew away in the wind. "This is nice."

He smiled. "Yeah, it is." You leaned into him, somehow, whether it be the way he dressed or the way he carried himself, he managed to make himself look so much smaller than he was. In truth, he was broad and tall, with all lean muscles and coiled strength, and without all the trapping of high society dress, he was an intimidating large man. "You look lost in thought." He had pressed his nose to the side of your face, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he spoke.

"I'm just thinking about how hot your are with your shirt off, and how I'd kill for some hot chips." It was getting close to dinner time, the lights around the barbeque turning on as the sun set over the hill.

He sighed and pressed his lips to your temple. "I can get you some hot chips, then we'll see about the other thing."

He stood up and stretched out his hand, pulling you to your feet before walking you to the kitchen and sitting you on a stool at the bench. Everything happened like a dance, the cutting board came out, then the knife out of its block and the potatoes from their bag in the cupboard. He liked showing off, a small smile gracing his face as he cut the potatoes into perfect, even lengths while the oven preheated, knowing you were watching with wrapped attention at every movement of his long fingers.

"See something you like?" He was a smug bastard when he wanted to be.

You nodded. "Yes, delicious carbohydrates."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip turning up into a smirk. "What did you call me?" There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as the chips entered the oven, and he was walking over to you with a swagger in his step. "They'll be ready in forty minutes, how about I get some wagyu out of the freezer too?"

You nodded and placed your hand on his cheek. "I would like that." He leaned down and kissed you, his beard scratching your skin as his lips sealed on yours. He pulled away, brushing a stray hair from your face as he looked down at you lovingly. You craned your head and pecked his jaw. "You know what else I'd like?"

He smirked, his face lightening up as he shook his head. "Dinner before dessert, Love"

****

Dinner was lovely, Ray had once again outdone himself, everything was perfect. The quiet moments like this were the best parts of the day, with him stealing glances at you every time he thought you weren't looking. You talked about your day and Ray his, and with dinner done, you moved to the couch. It didn't take long for you to climb onto his lap, and he smiled into a kiss as you pushed his mustard yellow sweater off his broad shoulders. His hand found your face, and he fiddled with the buttons on your shirt, each one popping open with care.

He used his body weight to lift you off him and spin around, taking your hand and leading you up the staircase, stopping to press you into the railing so he could kiss you. It was only a short intermission, but it left you breathless nonetheless, and by the time you were through the threshold of your shared bedroom, you were ready to sink to your knees.

He stopped you with a smirk, and you raised your eyebrow. "What gives?"

He ran his finger down your sternum and leaned in close, his lips bumping yours as he spoke. "I want dessert."

You blinked. "But…"

He shook his head. "No buts, get on the bed."

You huffed, but you couldn't hide your smile. "You are a terrible husband, depriving me like this."

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed, lifting your hand to his chest to lay over his heart. "You wound me."

You use the excuse to remove his button down. "Yes, and you deny me."

He shook his head as he stripped off the rest of your clothes and walked you backwards towards the edge of the bed. "I could never deny you anything." He was gazing down at you with such deep affection that it almost hurt. "Can I put my mouth on you now?"

You nodded, laughing as you pulled back with you onto the bed. He kissed his way down your body, stopping at your breast to give each one attention before continuing on his journey. His massive hands ran down your legs, lifting them up on his solid back as he settled on his belly on the bed. He kissed the insides of your thighs, each kiss soft and reverent as he made his way closer to your core.

He licked you from entrance to clit, and you gasped out his name as your hips bucked. He stilled for a moment, throwing one forearm over your hips so you couldn't twitch away and wiggling down so he was keeping your legs apart with his shoulders. He began in earnest when he knew you couldn't shift away from his seeking mouth, closing his lips around your clit while his other hand reached up to play with your breast, and despite the lack of his weight on your body, you felt utterly covered by him.

He was moaning like you were the one getting him off, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you with each pass of his tongue. The edge inevitably appeared, and you lifted your hand from his hair to cover your mouth to avoid what would have been a wail, then everything stopped, and he was looking up at you with both expectation and concern. He lifted his arm off your hip and reached up, wrapping it around your wrist as he brought it downwards. He pressed his wet lips to the very centre of your palm before placing it flat on the bed and smiling softly. "Don't hide anything from me."

He didn't give you time to respond, returning right back to his mission with even more vigour this time. It didn't take long for the peak to crest again, and you found yourself falling into what seemed to be endless bliss as he licked you through it. He gave you a moment to catch your breath before pulling away and wiping his face with his hand. "Thank you, Love."

You reached out, rushing to free him from his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one go before spreading your legs to accommodate him. His lips found yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you reached down to grab his cock so you could guide it inside you. Without the help of his fingers, it was a stretch, and you buried your face in his neck as he took over when you got too overwhelmed.

It must have been a lot for him too, because he was wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you up to sit in his lap, your chest pressed to his as he slowly rocked his hips upwards. He pressed his forehead to yours as you shared a breath, his eyes locked to yours as he picked up the pace. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on."

You felt so close to him like this, his considerable arms wrapped around you as he held you tight. You could feel his body rippling with each movement until he adjusted again and one hand left you back in favour of rubbing your clit. "Come on, my Darling, I can feel how close you are."

Your teeth latched on the meat of his shoulder as you came, pulling him with you as his rhythm faltered. You stayed like that for a time, catching your breath while his lips lay on your temple. Eventually, you parted and he pulled you with him as he laid down, brushing your sweat stuck hair from your face as you rested your head over his heart. "That was lovely."

He smiled lazily. "Yesn it was." He rubbed your nose with his, then kissed you. "I love you."

You took his face in your hand, and he fought the urge to nuzzle into your palm. "I love you too Ray."

Fin

[kingkatsuki]

I feel like we always talk about how perfect a boyfriend Bakugou would be, but we never talk about how annoying he really is.

He pulls the worst, grumpiest faces when you’re trying to get a cute selfie with him.

He refuses to take off his hoodie and give it to you when it’s raining, because it’s your fault you should’ve dressed for the weather.

He’s already stabbing a fork into his food when you’re trying to take a photograph of it, or mixing the cream on top of his Starbucks frappe before you can get the perfect aesthetic because “I don’t have time for this dumb shit you’re supposed’ta be eating it.”

He’s a blanket hog. Curls himself up in it until you’re left with the edge (although this may just be a ploy to get you to cuddle up to him as you go to sleep), but then he gets too hot during the night and the covers end up bunched around the foot of the bed so you wake up freezing.

Never wants to give you an answer to questions like “would you still love me if I was a worm?” Because “When the fuck would you ever be a worm?”, “Always askin’ the dumbest shit” even though he eventually appeases you and answers.

He’s terrible at replying to text messages, or sends back blunt replies or one word answers that are infuriating sometimes. Gives the standard thumbs up emoji to a wall of text and it winds you up to no end.

Will fight you for the last dessert/treat in the fridge if it’s his favorite.

Leaves his heavy ass grenades (that he knows you can’t lift) in random places all over the house.

[pimosworld]

Secret Springs Resort

Pairing-Joel Miller x f!plus size reader

CW-18+, MDNI, Angst,hurt/comfort, mentions of body insecurity, mentions of food insecurity, mentions of smut, Joel being so supportive, reader hiding her feelings at first but we always end with fluffiness. Dream vacation Joel vibes.

WC-1.2k

A/N- I decided to go with a different direction for this weeks theme at the Resort for the Secret springs challenge by our mayor @secretelephanttattoo. I love this idea, it was so fun to write despite the angst, it’s just in my nature to make you feel a little.

[Series Masterlist][Joel Miller Masterlist]

Not beta read

Indulgence

If you thought he didn’t notice the first night then you had seriously underestimated the man that was Joel Miller. 

  The man that had turned your world upside down the moment he stepped foot into your kitchen that he would soon remodel. The kitchen that you got to enjoy for just shy of a year after it was completed before selling your home and moving in with him. The newly remodeled kitchen being the major selling point. The smug look on his face when you got well over the asking price. The look that you so often indulged in wiping off his face when you had him writhing beneath you. This burly, breadth of a man that made you believe in love again. 

  He most certainly noticed on the first night of your vacation. The one you had both worked so hard for. 

  Secret Springs Resort

  An all inclusive beach resort vacation that he had meticulously planned down to the minute. Even the daily naps were planned because he knew how you could get bratty when you were tired. 

  It pained him the way you picked at your food and shuffled it around the plate as if he wouldn’t notice. 

  The way you squint your eyes in fake pleasure to signal that you enjoyed the bite. 

  The look he so often noticed at home during a meal or out to dinner but he so foolishly thought you would be care free while in this oceanic oasis.  

  The second night. 

  When you blamed the sun burn and your headache as to why you couldn’t eat much more than a few bites. The way your eyes watered when he moaned eating his steak and you stared longingly at the buttery garlic noodles that you wanted to dive headfirst into.  

  You said you were too full for dessert and yet Joel knew you better than that. A small sliver of hope when he let you feed him some ice cream, but his hopes quickly squashed when you had one bite and pushed it away. 

  The third day was your day to relax. No excursions planned and the weather far too hot to lay on the beach. Joel opted to lay among the sheets with you for most of the morning. His head resting between your plush thighs as you played with his thick curls. 

  The way it always started out so innocent and yet he could have you falling apart beneath him in minutes. 

  It’s the most relaxed he’s seen you this entire trip, and even if he dies for lack of oxygen he’ll never come up for air if it means seeing you like this. 

  It’s why he opts to spend the entire day taking full advantage of the luxury suite. Finding different ways to bend you over every surface of this room…the balcony, the couch, the bathroom sink. The shower steams until the mirror fogs over. Fucking and laughing until he thinks he may have pulled a muscle. The way you call him an old man in jest because he knows he could outlast you any day. 

  It’s why as he watches you sleep, your soft curves peeking out beneath the rumpled covers as the sun sets over the water he decides you’ll just complete the day inside. A quick call to room service and the woman on the other line doesn’t balk when he nearly orders everything on the menu. All your favorites so there’s no room for argument. In the safety of your private room, away from prying eyes so he can finally put a stop to whatever is holding you back. 

  It’s the smell that first wakes you first. In the quiet comfort of the sheets you get the hint of the savory aroma of fresh baked pizza and garlic bread. Your stomach growling and heart warming at the familiar smells that fill the air. You blink sleepily as your gaze falls on Joel, shirtless with his jeans hung low on his hips as he bustles around the room. Plates and silverware clinking as he sets up a small table on the balcony. 

  He turns with a gentle smile as he hears you rustling in the sheets. “Hey there, sleepyhead. I hope you’re hungry.”  

  Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of the spread. A large pizza with all your favorite toppings. One half with pineapple because Joel thought it was blasphemy. A steaming bowl of pasta with Parmesan cheese and marinara sauce. Golden slices of garlic bread arranged neatly on the side. 

  Your throat constricts with the unexpected sensation of gratitude and anxiety. 

  “You…you didn’t have to do all this.” You murmur, feeling a rush of vulnerability. 

  Joel strides over to you on the bed, draping the silky resort robe around your shoulders. “I know.” He says softly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “But I wanted to darlin’. Ya deserve to enjoy all your favorites without feeling self conscious.” 

  Tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him. Overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, at the way he surprised you everyday. “Thank you.” You whisper, with a slight tremble. “It means a lot to me.” 

  He didn’t expect you to bend so easily, yet he’s relieved all the same. A sense of pride blooming in his chest as you sit together on the balcony sharing bites of pizza and stories about your past. Things you want for your future, some things he’s heard and some things he’ll pocket for later. 

  He can tell as the meal goes on and you relax that you want to say it. To tell him why you’re this way, but he already knows it’s him. The reason he had to break down so many walls. The man whose name is rarely mentioned in your home because anytime it is Joel wants to find a way to make him a missing person. 

  When he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars as he twirls the pasta on the plate and holds it out for you, like an olive branch to open up. 

  You start tentatively to explain your past insecurities. How your ex made you feel ashamed for enjoying food. How he always made sure you knew to eat less than him. 

  “I always felt like I had to justify why I ate.” You say quietly as you sip your water. “But you…you make me feel comfortable just being myself.” 

  Joel reached across the table to take your hand, placing a kiss to your palm. “You don’t ever have to justify anything with me baby.” He says earnestly. “I want you to be happy and feel good about yourself. You should cuz you’re fuckin perfect.” 

  You smiled gratefully as he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. You knew with Joel beside you, you could let go of old hurts and embrace moments like this. Where kindness, understanding and a simple meal could say so much more than words could express. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[rae-pss]

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . i tried to do something here, i swear. drabble inspired by @etheries1015 's idea. special thanks to my dear @livelaughlovesubs for proofreading and helping me with this one, ily (🥹🫶✨). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 878 words, angsty themes, reader is sad bc they feel objectified by the demons.

“why...?”

that was the question that lingered in your head the most. stuck in a sea of misery and hardship that only you could freely navigate and easily drown in.

there was no other way to share the pain of your most incessant storms of thoughts, not when no one there present seemed to care about your mental well-being.

of course, they cared about you, or that's what you wanted to conclude from times when they truthfully helped you. from the moment satan decided to take you to hell to bring minhyeok back, through the various moments in which you needed the different essences of demons and humans to survive, to when your life seemed to be in danger and they were there to rescue or save you… it was all certainly nice, feeling loved on those occasions.

however, all those memories only led to the same point, making you feel like nothing was right that morning. has it ever even been?

they could sing to the winds and swear to hell that they appreciated you, they loved you, that you were the most important person to them. yet, why didn't anyone seem to care about you?

firstly, the elephant in the room, you were the only living descendant of the much acclaimed and beloved –plus dead– solomon. a man who seemed to leave such a great mark on both hell and heaven. your ancestry unknowingly condemned you to a life of pain, unbridled lust, and way more.

someone who said that he saw you as his own child, but that he never seemed to be there for you or understand you in the face of your deepest sorrows.

and, then there was what certainly shrank your heart the most, took the air from your lungs, and made you a mere vessel of what you once could be.

“aren’t i worth more than my body? do they just see me as a sex toy? a pretty face and body to own and use as they please?”

you wanted and implored that the answer to all of that was no, that they didn't see you as such. but how could you convince yourself of that if they only seemed to mind about your physical appearance? they were indeed interested in your personality, especially when you showed one of their sins in front of them, and yet no one seemed to know your favorite color, food, music, or animal.

questions that if strangers in the human world had asked you’d have been somewhat uncomfortable. after all, who asks those nowadays?

and, here you were now, wishing that one of the many demons there would take even the slightest curiosity in you to ask such things. 

“was it so difficult to ask about your favorite weather? what is your favorite type of tea? what is your favorite book? what is your favorite dessert?”

“was it so difficult to feel any interest in your damn tastes?”

there was a time when anger resided like a parasite in your hot veins for every time those thoughts plagued your mind. an arduous sensation that made you want to harm those who unconsciously hurt you so much in the same way.

but, that was already something in the past. now you could only completely shut up and look at the ground. anger is replaced by sadness, deep, drowning sadness. long nights in tears and full days in pain. but, no one seemed to notice, and if they did they didn't even ask about it. 

“would it cost that much to care?”

it was a slow realization process. a clear decomposition of your spirits, your feelings, of you as a being. you didn't even know if you really cared about saving this already damned place, or if you even wanted to go home... home. your home...

and so a single tear fell from your eye, one that you didn't think even thought existed in your weakened body.

minhyeok... would he still be waiting for you? would he even be alive once you got back? would he welcome you with a plate of your favorite food? a bouquet? a hug…?

the only one who understood and knew you. how would he react if he saw you like this? he would surely care for you like a mama bear. taking your temperature, cooking and feeding you, telling you how silly yet precious you are, giving you all that love that you crave so much.

a smile, a weak smile on your lips appeared at the memories of your best friend. how much you missed him day after day, longing to return to the home that was his arms. the warmth that only he knew how to bring to everything around him, including you. the thousand and one apologies he deserved from you.

so much, and for nothing, because you were still there among demons until everything was over... and, that was if they later deigned to let you go, something that you were not even sure was possible. 

you doubted that after all that chaos they’d let you leave their side. knowing them, they would even lock you up if that kept you close to them. just a mere creature trapped in the vile clutches of thirsty beasts.

[danikamariewrites]

I LOVE your Feysand & Reader fics. Especially the housewife series. Could I please request a fic that takes place shortly after Gone Girl where they've been overprotective for a few months and it's really starting to grate on her nerves. She needs a break from them in Velaris. One of her solo shipping trips. Something where she purchases presents for both of them. Maybe she stops at a cafe for crepes and hot chocolate. And she knows that she's being tailed but takes it as the big step it is.

Over My Shoulder

Feysand x reader

a/n: I'm so sorry requests are taking so long, I think I've hit a bit of a writing slump. I love this idea so much and they would def be very overprotective of reader. Also, I've seen all your kind comments and want to say thank you❤️.

warnings: none

For the first few weeks after the incident you didn't leave the house. It was your choice at first. Feeling more comfortable under Feyre and Rhys's watchful eyes. You wouldn't even walk Nyx to school unless your mates or other members of the Inner Circle were with you.

Hell, you wouldn't even go to the farmers market. You sent Cassian and Azriel once which was a huge mistake. As you had unpacked the bags with them the warriors were so proud. That was until you had to educate them on the differnce between cabbage and lettuce.

Azriel was giving his brother a look that said I told you so. Cassian had pursed his lips dropping the cabbage on the counter. He the proceeded to hold out a yam, asking if it wasn't a special potato.

When the weather started to turn you started to go stir crazy. Just sitting in the garden and going on short walks wasn't cutting it anymore.

"I think I'm ready to go out. Like in town and stuff." You bring up that night as the three of you lay in bed. Feyre and Rhys freeze next to you. You didn't need the bond to feel the nervous energy radiating from them.

They didn't need to say they were scared of letting you out of their sight. Rhys has always been terrified to be away from you and Feyre. But after somethig like this. Your kidnapping still felt fresh to them.

Rhys pulls you tightly to his chest, rubbing your hair soothingly. You feel Feyre move, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head against your back. Before they can say anything you add, "Not alone, not for awhile. But with you guys or the family." Your mates seemed to relax at that.

"Ok," Feyre mumbled. "Why don't we go to the cafe you like after we walk Nyx to school." "I'd like that." You mumble into Rhys's chest.

It took you a few weeks to get comfortable. Then some more time to trust anyone who wasn't Feyre and Rhys. It broke Cassian's heart to see you so jumpy.

Months later you finally gained the confidence to venture out on your own. Feyre and Rhys were hesitant to let you go. You wanted your independence back, it's been driving you nuts having them breathe down your neck. It started feeling like you were a kid they were babysitting.

You wanted to get back to your routine. It is Thrusday, meaning it's family night. And what better way to get into your routine than food shopping and setting up for game night.

You decided to pull out all the stops for tonight. On your to do list is find a new board game and make a dessert you found in a new recipe book the House of Wind so kindly gifted you on your last visit.

Leaving the house you gave them each a kiss goodbye. You couldn't leave fast enough honestly. It felt like they were letting you go a little too easy. Stepping onto the porch you shrugged the feeling off, basking in the mid-morning sun before starting the walk into town.

With an iced coffee in hand you set out on your little shopping adventure. After your stop in the toy store for a new game you ran into Mor. Instead of just saying hello she continued walking with you until the farmers market.

Picking up an apple you swear you see a shadow quickly slink to the ground. Tilting your head your eyes wander across the fruit selections, watching for any other shadows. You continue with shopping for ingredients for tonight.

After the farmers market you take a detour on the way home, stopping at your favorite bookshop. It's been months since you've been here. Relying on the library at the House of Wind. As much as you love the endless selection you miss getting your own books.

Looking down at the cobblestone street you notice soemthing off about your shadow. Like something was tariling you. Stopping you quickly look around the street, paranoid that it could be something more.

Something blue catches the sun at the entrance to an alleyway to your left. It disappears into the unsual darkness for this time of day. As you keep staring the blue gem reappears, followed by three more and then a face only you would be able to see in the darkness. Azriel gives you a nod as a small, calming smile crosses your lips.

You continue walking, the bookstore only a few paces away. You couldn't believe your mates were having you followed. You thought you were at a point where you didn't need to be looked after. You let out a mental groan hoping it was loud enough for Rhys to hear.

The bell above the door to the shop rings and you shake it off. Marcy greets you cheerily, "Y/n! It's been so long, how are you." The female rushes over to you, embracing you in a warm hug. "I'm good honey, how are you?"

The two of you fall into easy conversation as she shows all the new books she got in. You periodically glance out the window to see if Azriel was still watching you. You shake your head, letting out a small chuckle. "What's up?" Marcy gives you curious look.

"Nothing," you wave her off, "just remembering something Rhys and Feyre said earlier." New customers come in Marcy leaves you to wander.

It's hard to focus on the titles in front of you with the thought of Azriel outside, waiting for you to make your next move. It's not so bad, you think. At least Azriel isn't standing right next to you. If this is what it takes for them to have peace of mind then you'll let it slide.