#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.

[shjsnjkj]

LULLABY ┊ p.js

kinktober day 17! - masterlist

warnings: smut, MDNI, make out, age gap (10 years)

genre: smut

wc: 2,5k✧.*

☆ uncle!jay x niece!reader ; Going on a vacation with your uncle looked like a wonderful idea. But little did you know, you will share a bedroom with him.

taglist: @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minnieverse @rikinatorr

It was Friday afternoon.

The weather may have been gloomy, but that meant there was no chance of boredom on such a dull and dreary day! You'd just finished school and went straight home because you'll have guests coming over tonight – and you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. To be exact, your uncle, your aunt, his husband, and your cousins are coming over tonight! Your uncle, Jay hasn’t found his perfect match yet, that’s why he’s coming alone. It's not because he isn't hot or old – he's totally the opposite in fact. He's just patiently waiting for the perfect woman. You didn't understand this because he's the kindest man after your dad – he's just the nicest person you could ever hope to have. From a young age, he was one of your greatest sources of wonder and delight. He always had something up his sleeve to delight and amaze you. As you grew up, you could easily talk with him about anything on your mind. Jay was always there for you, listening carefully to everything you had to say and opening his arms wide for you whenever you needed him. It's so unfortunate that you only get to see him twice in half a year. So, when you miss him, you usually give him a call to catch up.

Today was one of the days when you got the chance to see Jay! As soon as you got home, you changed into something comfortable and rushed downstairs to the kitchen to help your mum cook. Your mum made the most delicious steak with a salad while you baked the most scrumptious brownies to go with it. You knew Jay loved your recipe, and you were so excited to surprise him with this dessert. Once you'd got the table ready, you quickly changed your clothes. A plain black dress will do perfectly—you thought and it was. The dress had long sleeves and the skirt part was short, layered, and a bit bubbly. The highlight of the whole dress was a big bow on the waist. You also curled your hair a bit, just for a wavy image.

From the moment Jay complimented you on the dress, you just knew you'd made the perfect decision. He drew you in closer by the waist and greeted you with a sweet kiss on the cheek, sending shivers up your spine. Oh my, he must have been looking at you from head to toe, having seen you a while ago. But you were looking down, blushing and avoiding his eyes, as if you were afraid you might melt away if you did. Even after you welcomed him to the dinner table, the warmth of his hand remained on your waist.

He was the last to arrive for the dinner, so you began to enjoy the feast shortly after taking your seats. Fortunately, Jay was seated directly opposite you on the other side of the table. As you observed him, you came to the realization that Jay hadn't changed significantly, yet he did appear a bit different from before. You felt a desire to be closer to him. All you wanted was to feel his warmth around you. You wouldn't mind feeling his hands on your waist or even on your thighs either. It was only a few months ago that you first noticed this feeling growing within you, following your last encounter with him. Prior to that, you did not feel the urge to seek his attention.

His shining gaze when he spoke with your parents or your cousins was quite engaging, and it often prompted you to pause and listen. You found yourself hoping he might look at you with those beautiful eyes and heartwarming smile. Until the moment you inadvertently touched Jay's leg with yours, and he looked at you.

You froze for a second and didn’t know how to react, all your confidence went away.

“I’m sorry” -you mouthed but he didn’t even blink.

“Do you want to talk for a bit?” -He put his hand on yours. You hesitated for a brief moment about what to say, still in shock by the contact. You had to choose between spending time with Jay and eating the food which was easy to make.

“A-actually, yes.” -You nodded and showed him a soft, warm smile.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else for a bit then?”

Once you'd excused yourselves for a moment, you showed Jay the way to your room. He'd been there countless times when you were younger, but now it felt more intimate with just the two of you. It was a whole new way of being together now that you were no longer a kid. Jay closed the door behind him and sat down on your chair at the desk. He turned the chair around so that it was facing you on the bed. His legs were crossed and everything about him looked perfect, from his laid-back hair to his elegant, designer clothes, to his face, jawline, sparkling eyes, and kissable lips. You were so caught up in the moment you didn't even hear him asking his question.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Can you please repeat it for me?" You looked at him with the cutest, most adorable puppy eyes.

"I asked you if you would like to come with me and your cousins on an ocean vacation. It'll be unforgettable, I promise." He smiled at you, his eyes bright with anticipation, waiting for your answer.

"For real? That'd be absolutely fantastic, Jay. Thank you for thinking about me! I'd really love to go!" You couldn't contain your joy and leaped to your feet, eager to give him a hug. You were close to him again and it felt like the best thing in the world. You sat on his leg, hugging him by the nape, your face buried into the crook of his neck. The smell of his cologne, his hand on your waist, the closeness made your stomach burn up and your heart race. Something really switched in you. If you could, you'd have given him a kiss on the lips right at that moment. You longed to feel his touch, but now you could only give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He was pleasantly surprised by your act and smiled at you.

"This is really nothing, pretty. I can't wait to spend this vacation with you!" He said, his eyes twinkling with happiness. You knew Jay was saying all this because you were his niece and nothing more, which made your heart break. But then you realized that this was the perfect chance to get even closer to him—even though he was your uncle.

After you'd arrived and checked in at the hotel, you sorted out who was staying in which room. Naturally, you didn't have a partner or a close friend you could have stayed with in the room, so Jay kindly offered to stay with you if you wanted. You wanted to spend more time with him, and you were happy when the chance arose.

Everyone went to their rooms, getting ready for the beach as agreed. The same thing happened with you and Jay. He was faster unpacking than you, so he went to the bathroom while you still organized your belongings.

When he came back to you, you were momentarily taken aback. You've never seen him without a shirt on. He was wearing his white swimming shorts with a white, fully unbuttoned shirt. You couldn't take your eyes off his well-defined abs and the view in front of you.

It didn't feel like he was your uncle. You felt like any other couple who went on a trip together. On the one hand, that’s why you wanted to show him how much you've grown and you wanted him to see you as a woman.

He laid down on the bed and watched what you were doing. It made you blush and smile a bit. "Which swimsuit are you going to wear?" He asked you.

"I'm not sure. How about you choose one for me?" Your eyes sparkled as you looked into his eyes.

Jay concurred, and you selected three different swimsuits. His choice fell on the hottest one, a black bikini with gold chains which you've never worn before. Seconds later, you were already in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror. This look was too revealing for your usual appearance in front of your family and Jay. Nevertheless, it was time to show off how much confidence you have and what a girl you are.

At the beach, Jay asked you to put sunscreen on his back because everyone was in the water already by that time. You stayed, of course. You couldn't say no to him, could you?

You got up from your futon and walked next to Jay. You put a little sunscreen on your hand. When you faced his back, you stopped for a bit, admiring his wide shoulders and honey-colored skin. This was the first time you'd ever touched his back, touching it carefully yet sensually in some way.

"Ah, Y/n It feels like you're giving me a massage" he exclaimed, his eyes closed and a smile on his face as you slipped your hands on his back and neck, slowly going in front of him. He didn't ask, but you couldn't resist touching him there too. You greased him on his collarbone and face as well. Gently caressing his skin all over, feeling him on your hands. His skin was so smooth and soft. You didn't want to let go of him. That's when he held your hand and switched positions. And now it was his turn. He roamed his hand all over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. When he started greasing your gorgeous face, he held it like he was about to kiss you. You even closed your eyes, eager to hold back your heart's true feelings. And then, in a flash, a sudden touch at the edge of the top of your bikini made you tremble. He took such care with all the details, making sure you wouldn't get burned anywhere. Jay was just a few centimeters away from touching your boobs, which made you gulp — in anticipation of what was to come.

"This bikini really suits you. You look mesmerizing in it, you know that?" He couldn't help but smirk at you while still caressing your body as if you were a doll.

In a state of sheer delight, he motioned for you to recline on his futon. As his hands explored your curves, you couldn't resist letting out a soft moan. You didn't see, but this made him smirk, his desire for you intensifying with every passing moment. When he was done, he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder and whispered how beautiful you were in your ear making your core heat up.

Your desires weren’t lowered. The lust in your eyes only grew until the moment you both laid down in the same bed. Sleeping was nowhere in your mind but there was no need for Jay to sing a lullaby to you. You’ll make the lullaby tonight. The silent night was filled with your voices, moans, and kisses. All the things popped into your mind, how much you loved him and how much you awaited this moment. To finally have his lips on yours.

Your cheeks looked extra fleshed while you held your breath, taking in what was happening between the two of you. He looked at you with desire, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. His breath fanned against your lips, and before you could even think, he pressed his lips against yours.

You run one of your hands through his hair and grip the strands, wanting to keep him here and never let him go. He responded by flipping you over to your back and deepening the kiss. You moaned against his lips, and he smiled against yours, kissing you more and more into a daze. You were drunk on his lips and the way he was touching you.

His hands became bolder, tracing circles on your jaw while the other one teasingly trailed up your shirt. He squeezed your hip with a confident hand, his desire evident. You were ready to give him everything, and he was ready to take you to new heights.

He switched from keeping his hips hovering above you to pressing against yours. He made a soft grind against them, and you let out a whine of pleasure, encouraging him to do it again. He did, and you whined even louder, eager for more.

It wasn't long before he was grinding into you, his hard-on brushing against your clit, the friction driving you out of your mind, making you lose control and cry out his name when his lips began to trail down your jaw, along your neck, kissing and sucking his way down. At the same time, his hips never faltered, driving you wilder with the sheer intensity of the moment.

"Do you feel comfortable pretty? If you want, I can stop—there's no need to do anything you don't feel right about." He said, his lips glistening with wetness, his hair a bit messy, you would be crazy not to throw yourself into his arms right now.

"Everything feels so right and feels so good, Jay. Please, don't stop," You said, your eyes alight with desire, as you placed your hand on his neck and guided him back down to your pretty lips. He let out a low growl and smiled against your pretty lips. His excitement built as he slid his hands further up your shirt and rested on your ribs. They were so close, yet so far from touching you where you wanted them to.

Then, after another wet, sensual kiss, he reached for your shirt, wanting to feel your skin against his own. You sat up quickly to help him take it off. After he pulled off your clothing, he did the same, and it was just as breathtaking as the first time. Even though you already got to see him topless today, it was still thrilling how hot he looked. Jay saw you pause and he couldn't resist smirking. His hands began to roam your bare skin, sending shivers of delight through you.

He started to trail his lips down to your chest, as you felt his warm, wet tongue teasing your sensitive skin, leaving tantalizing suck marks. But then, his exploration was interrupted by your bra. So he tugged on it just a little to see how you'd react. You arched your back, sending a silent plea to have it removed, and he did so before you even had a chance to speak.

[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. 

[sexlapis]

𖤓 SUN BEAMS & PALM TREES

── .✦ nanami x female!reader

ns4w, pure smut, one shot, clit stimulation, PiV, oral sex (m receiving), possessive behaviour, praise, teasing, slight degradation, reader is wearing a micro bikini

⤷ you and nanami are on vacation, so you take the chance to show him your new bikini.

. wc: 3.8k

a/n: i want him to eat me. also i’m missing summer. just a little bit. this is kinda dirty.

masterlists

*

In the month of May, days of tedious paperwork, sleepless nights, grey clouds, packaged food and chilly weather, are temporarily replaced with hot sun, clear, cloudless, pure azure skies, dinners and desserts cooked for hours to perfection, sand clinging and stuck on bare feet and in between toes, sharp tan lines, and warm midnights of dreams and peace.

Vacations this long were rare for you and Nanami, so you both decided to cherish it and make the most of it.

You two had been so busy with your lives. Work, family, friends. All the inevitable challenges of adulthood emerge on the regular. That one must go trudge through like they do a thick swap of mud, like swimming in the beast of a rageful ocean fueled by the anger of Poseidon.

But when one makes it past such difficulties, the rewards can be fruitful. Even with the scars.

Quite like they are now.

You lay on a beach chair. The drooping leaves of a large palm tree protect your skin from that diamond of a sun for the most part, only a few beams sneaking through the rips in the leaf and creating a zig-zag pattern of shadow against your abdomen.

Nanami’s beach chair had already been set up for him, courtesy of you. His sun cap, a bottle of water and a new piece of literature he had been reading were all placed on his chair, with your big beach bag filled to the brim on yours.

For the first time in months, the only thing on your mind is pleasure.

Pleasure in the sun. Pleasure while you rest. Pleasure in relaxing in the fine shade.

And, most of all, pleasure in anticipation of the upcoming reaction from Nanami because of your new bikini.

If you could even call it that.

You donned a micro bikini. And gosh, did it put the micro in micro bikini.

It was a flimsy, tiny thing. One that could come apart with one light tug.

Rose-shaped crocheting concealed just your nipples and areolas, leaving very little to the imagination. On the lower part of your body, you wear a thin, string thong. A second crocheted rose decorates the thong at the small of your back. And last but not least, a final rose, embroidered into a choker, adorns your neck snugly.

You’re an art piece.

“_____! Why did you run off…”

Nanami trails off when he acknowledges what you’re wearing with his eyes, now comically wide. It's rare that you shock Nanami, stoic and calm Nanami, like he is now.

Umber eyes trail from the little fabric curved around your pretty neck, down to the little fabric over your sensitive nipples, down to the little fabric covering your intimate area.

To him, you were otherworldly. You were an angel on a beach of mortals. Venus reborn. Ethereal you were as you lay on the chair in your micro bikini with your eyes closed and your body shimmering like gold in the light.

“Hi, Kento.” You greet him, your eyes still closed and expression tranquil. “‘Thought you’d never show up.”

Nanami doesn’t respond for a moment.

Then he clears his throat. “I would’ve been here sooner if you didn’t rush off…Or if I had known you were going to be wearing that.”

A short giggle leaves you.

He was so predictable.

“It’s new. Do you like it?” You look down at yourself. You lift your hands and begin to gently outline the shape of your bikini top with your fingers. You feel your nipples harden underneath them.

“You look…lovely.”

You bit your lip. “Come sit down.”

He obeys with no hesitation.

Nanami strides around your chair and items, removing his things and sitting down on his chair, laying back, resting the back of his head on his bent arm. He picks up his book before looking at you.

And your little bikini.

You peer one eye open again.

“Let’s just relax for a little bit first. Okay?”

His jaw clenches. Licks his lips.

“Yeah, of course. I can admire the view.”

You hum.

The sounds of the beach - the powerful crash of the waves sounded so soothing in your ears, the cool breeze brushing through vast leaves of trees, the angelic cry of exotic and rare songbird - they all flowed through your body, through your mind, and all painful memories of the past, all your grievances and heartaches, for just a moment, flowed away with it.

Many minutes later, when you are on the brink of sleep, a hand is suddenly on your chest.

Your eyes snap open.

Nanami’s hand is on your breast.

He doesn’t look away from his book. Still seemingly engrossed in his reading as he circles the perimeter of your bikini top.

A sigh escapes your mouth at his touch.

Nanami’s hands haven’t been on you all day. And you need them all over you.

Your head tilts back involuntarily and your thighs fall open as he trails his hands down the softness of your torso, eliciting goosebumps in his wake. A quiver tickled your lower body.

A calloused, broad hand made its way down to the pathetic excuse of a bikini thong. He slowed down as he reached the front of your already damp thong. With his ring and middle finger, Nanami cups the outside of your thong softly.

Whimpering, desperate and in need of some real attention, you lift up your bikini top, exposing your breasts to Nanami and the whole beach.

One short gust of wind followers soon after, making your nipples and the skin around them crease with tautness.

Finally, Nanami looks your way.

“Ah…” He gulps, licking his lips again. “Look at them. The little ones are out…”

Nanami cuts his teasing short and decides, for once, to give into temptation and instant gratification.

That instant gratification comes when he sits up from his chair, removes his hand from your cunt, scoots toward you, leans down and curls his lips around one of your hard nipples.

What escapes you is a mix between a loud groan and a sigh of relief.

Nanami’s wet, soft mouth felt so good on your dry, erect nipples. He swirled his tongue around it, nibbled his teeth on it, and sucked his lips around it, pulling the pert flesh into his mouth. He raises his left hand to your lonely breast, caressing the mound in his rough hand, fondling and groping it like he does to the dough when he bakes. With expertise, experience, practice and precision.

“Kento..” His name leaves your lips like a prayer. Your own hand finds his blond locks, curling your fingers around them tightly and arching your back and chest into his eager mouth.

You feel him groan and smirk and the sound rumbles through your already trembling body.

It hasn’t even been five minutes and Nanami has managed to break you down, turning you into a shaky mess of desire and lust.

He moves onto your other breast, giving her an equal amount of attention too. You shift your body, giving him more access to your breasts. And he feasts on them gladly, leaving a watercolour painting of his. saliva all along your nipples and chest. It twinkles in the sunlight and you feel like his own work of art.

While one of his hands is on your waist, the other is once again travelling down to your now dripping cunt.

It’s not very difficult to get you wet, is it?

His fingertips gently run over your slit that is still covered by your thong. The minstations of his fingers make you bloom, like a flower, a rose, and the delicate fabric of your thong molds into the shape of your slick folds.

Your teeth chew on your lip as he plays you like his most prized and precious instrument, one that is most treasured and used.

Nanami nuzzles his face and nose from your soaked chest to your jawline, planting kisses along the contours of your face.

“Ah, fuck, baby. You’re already so wet.” He states, in awe of your body’s reactions. He now focuses his attention on your nub, punching a gasp out of you. He draws slow circles around it. “Did wearing this slutty little bikini really get you so worked up?”

Nanami gives a bite to where your jaw and neck connect.

You wheeze.

“No-no…it was-it was wearing it for you that got me like this.”

You almost feel embarrassed to admit it. That even thinking of your husband being aroused by you makes you aroused in turn. Just the thought of him seeing you in this bikini and reacting the way you knew he would was enough to get you hot and bothered. Let alone it actually happening.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Nanami breathes out. The pace of his fingers speeds up, the wetness building up behind your thong, making his movements smoother. He kisses the corner of your lips as you pant and look at him. “You’re so sweet.”

His lips drag from the corner of yours and then he’s covering them with his own. Nanami takes advantage of your open mouth, slipping his tongue inside. The way he eases it in unexpectedly makes you whimper again, and he devours your sounds greedily, biting, licking and pecking at your now puffy lips.

Pressure builds deep inside you stomach, inside your cunt, tightening and tightening like a silk knot tied around your most intimate parts.

“Oh, yes. Yes, you’re so close…Here-“” He manoeuvres you a bit, lifting one leg up on the chair and leaving the other on the ground, making you all spread out just for him. The new angle reveals more of your clit to his fingers, making you sigh languidly. “There…that should do it. Cum for me, baby.”

It does.

The new angle and the expert movement of his fingers of your sensitive pussy make you burst, exploding as you groan through your first orgasm, gratating yourself on his two fingers.

You can hear the quiet sluch, sluch, sluch of your cunt as he rubs you through your breathtaking high, your legs twitching open and closed as you travel through a brief heaven on earth.

“Hmm…that’s just what I wanted…” Nanami tells you. “For you to be a mess from just my fingers. And now a mess on my cock as well.”

He slows down his circles of your clit and removes his fingers after one full rub of your slit. Nanami raises his damp fingers to his mouth and laps your juices off his fingers, tasting all of you that seeped right through your thong.

Nanami groans. “I just love the way you taste, baby.”

Heat rushes up from your abdomen to your cheeks, making you hot. And it’s not from the sun.

It’s the shamelessness of his actions and how he expresses how much he, essentially, wants to consume you. All of you. Every damn inch of you. And that fact makes you lose just a tiny bit of your sanity every time you remember it.

Abruptly, Nanami stands up. His crotch is right in front of your face when he shrugs down his swimming trunks, showing you his hard, swollen dick.

He spits in his hand and uses it to slowly stroke himself up and down. You peer up at him as he looks down at you fondly, stroking your cheek with his free hand.

“Look what you did to me.” He tells you, looking down at his length then back at you. “This is all you, sweetheart. All of it.”

You exhale deeply, unaware that you had even been holding your breath.

His eyes, his dark, beautiful brown eyes held you in place with you stare alone. You were stuck there, limp, chained by his gaze, both tender and hard, both pure and lustful. And you did not want to be set free.

A thumb swipes at your bottom lip, pulls at the plump skin and then makes its way into your pleading mouth.

You close your eyes for a short time, relishing in having something in your mouth and then you suck on his thumb and swirl your tongue around it once.

You loved to have his fingers in your mouth.

Nanami smiles so softly at you, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Here, baby,” he removes his thumb from your mouth and, to your strong approval, replaces it with the tip of his cock, “it’s all for you…”

Thick, long, red and hard.

Your eyelids dip and your eyes roll into the back of your head at the weight and feel of him in your mouth. Full. Overwhelming.

You moan.

Nanami tips his head back. He strokes your hair as you begin to carefully bop your head up and down along the span of your glorious cock.

His dick was perfect. Curved. Wide and girthy. Not too long. It was just right.

Everything about Nanami was perfect.

And he felt the same way about you.

“Oh, yes baby. Shit.” He curses harshly when you pull back and only suckle on his tip. Salty, sticky precum pooled on your velvet tongue as you lolled it on the underside of his tip, catching all of the leaking stream you could before taking him into your mouth once again.

You look up at him with your glossy, doe eyes, framed by your feathered eyelashes. The look you gave him, like you were all he ever wanted made him pull out of your mouth with a swiftness.

It almost made him finish far too quickly.

You laugh. Despite his strength, composure and astuteness, one of his weaknesses includes your mouth.

You collapse back onto the chair, grinning at Nanami as he tries to catch his breath after his almost-orgasm. You're still wet, even more so from seeing him nearly reach his peak so easily.

“‘There something funny?”

Nanami is on top of you in a flash, straddling the chair and grasping both of your wrists in his hands, the weight of him causing the beach chair to wobble and creak a little. You squeal.

“Ken!” You hiccup at the sudden movements that leave you winded and mesmerised.

At this time, with him pinning you down, you take the moment to admire him. His thin, jewelled eyes, the taffy blush which appears over his nose and cheeks, the height of his cheekbones, the single strand of hair that dangled in front of his forehead.

Adonis personified.

“Let me see her again.”

The question of ‘who?’ died in your throat as soon as it came to life when you realise he isn’t talking about a person. But your cunt.

His refuses to take his eyes off of you, so you succumb and almost shyly, do as he says.

You spread your legs for him. He fits in between them like a piece of a puzzle, slotting together so smoothly like you were created for one another.

He hooks two fingers at the front of your thong and pulls before letting it slap back onto your folds. You let out a yelp.

Nanami soothes you before you can complain, pulling your thong to the side and revealing yourself.

It shines with your own wetness, glimmering in the occasional flickers of sunlight, enveloped with small hairs that glisten with gossamers of your nectar.

“Stop looking at it, you weirdo.”

Your words snatch him out of his little trance.

“I’m sorry.” He replies, smirking and not sounding apologetic in the least. “I just think it’s nice.”

“I just think it’d be nicer with a dick inside.”

“Don’t push me.” You stick your tongue out and he simply kisses it instead.

Any words you were to speak and any thoughts that were to form all dissipate into dust, insignificant as the sand below you when he eased himself into your puffy pussy, slow and effortless in motion. Luckily, there is little to no resistance on your end.

As always, he fills you up so smoothly.

But it feels different now. Now that you’re both on your own, miles and miles away from the hardships back home. Just you and him alone. Nobody else to pester, criticise or judge the two of you. The only concerns you have now are how you clean the pesky sand from your shoes and feet and how to treat Nanami’s inevitable sunburn when you get back to your five-star hotel.

Limber and pliant underneath him is what you are when he rests the majority of his weight on you. He steadies himself with his powerful legs and grabs the sides of the chair as he begins to fuck into you.

“Ken.” You pant. “Ken. Kento, we’re gonna break this chair.”

Nanami just huffs at you. “Don’t be silly. Why are you even…thinking about that…” He seems to lose his train of thought due to the fact that you keep clenching and unclenching around him with every deep stroke of his through no fault of your own.

“Because-“” You bite off your words with a shout when he, without warning, steps up the force of his thrusts, bucking his hips roughly into yours while keeping his firm pace. This makes your pliable body jolt up and down along the beach chair, breasts bouncing. His tip kisses that one gummy spot inside of you. A gush of wet pours out of you.

You scramble, finding his rippling biceps and digging your nails into them, scratching and breaking into pale skin, feral and vicious and marking your claim. Growling into his mouth and biting his lower lip to indent the shape of your teeth into them.

That’s going to leave a few marks. Not that Nanami minds.

In fact, he leans in more, allowing you to ravish him however you see fit. It’s clear - the pleasure he takes in your possessive, territorial, almost animalistic behaviour is a little thing he adores about you. Glaring at people who stared at him for a second too long, wrapping an arm around his waist at an event, coming up behind him to kiss his neck when he was cluelessly speaking with a person who was flirting with him.

Nanami couldn’t lie - he enjoyed the feeling of being owned by you. Being yours.

Such thoughts and your actions encourage him. He releases the chair and his hands find the backs of your knees and pushes them back towards your chest.

With you in this position, he starts up his pace again.

“Oh! Oh, Kento. Kento!” He felt so huge and you felt full, full to the brim as he continues fucking you.

Odd sounds escape your mouth with each thrust of his, little “ahs” and “uhs” flow out of you in time with each of his movements.

Nanami rests his forehead against your sweaty one. “Shh, shh, sh. Listen.”

You do as he asks, curling your lips to keep your sounds in.

What you hear is yourself. Your own soaked cunt each time he moves into you, a sloppy squelch, squelch, squelch each time he moves in and out, in and out, in and out.

With a hand at the back of your neck, he tilts your bobbing head down to make you look at where the two of you are connected.

He’s covered in your cream, white splotches of your cum decorate his cock, smearing along it with each deep thrust into your drenched canal.

It’s all you, all your own substance sullying him, claiming him.

It’s like watching a performance - admiring how his cock spreads your walls to accumulate him, molding and sculpting around his length entirely, being created into something new altogether.

“Touch yourself, angel.”

Nothing more has to be said.

You’re reaching down between your legs immediately as he continues to pound into you, swirling your fingers around your neglected clit quickly. It’s so, so wet, you just know your fingers will be pruned by the end of it.

Another one builds up inside of you. Filling and filling up in the depth of your cunt until it’s nearly overflowing through your whole entire body, bursting within your nerves and being the catalyst to your already twitching and trembling body.

Whispers and tiny gasps are pulled from you. Nanami decides to spread your legs just an inch more, and spears into you so far. It sets you right off.

A whiney, loud, elongated moan runs free from your mouth as you start to come again, back arching as you play with your poor, oversensitive pearl, and your sounds turn into a silent scream as Nanami continues his rough pace.

“Oh, that’s it, angel. Mm-“” He’s pulling out of you quickly, ordering you to get on your hands and knees immediately. You fling yourself around, sticking your ass up, tightening around nothing but the hot, humid air.

Nanami pulls you back against him. You can feel his swollen cock head run up and down you folds before he enters you once again.

This time, he’s merciless, pummelling into your welcoming hole as you fucking scream the whole beach down, holding onto the chair railings for dear life as he bounces you up and down on his cock, feverish and desperate, growls ripping from the deepest depths of his chest to his panting mouth.

He finds your ass cheeks, giving them both a hard smack and then gripping them both in his hands to use as leverage when he grinds his hips against your spongy globes. His head falls back.

“Kenny.” You whimper, almost at your limit. “Kenny, please cum. Please, please cum.”

Nanami grunts, his hips stutter. Then they halt. He gnarls and pulls out of you, leaving you gaping and dripping as he strokes himself, his dick burrowing into your bikini, the crocheted rose, and cumming inside of it, covering it with his seed, making you his canvas and claiming you as his own too.

You wiggle your hips as he strokes himself to absolute completion, his almost inhumane sounds turning into gentle huffs and puffs of tiredness.

“Kenny…” You smile and look back at him, happy and sated.. Nanami admires the mess he’s made of you and your bikini. You then pout. “…Kenny, you ruined my bikini.”

Nanami leans down to you, pecking your damp cheek, lip and chin. “I’m sorry,” he fiddles with the strings of your ruined thong, carefully pulling them down, “I’ll buy you a new one…”

Just then, the chair gives way.

You scream as you both fall sideways, fast first and half nude into the sand.

A chaotic scramble ensues, you wriggling around like a worm, throwing sand everywhere and Nanami attempting, and succeeding, in preventing your ridiculous show.

“Are you okay?” He asks, more concerned and panicked than amused. But you can see the simple forming in his cheek.

You look back at him, spluttering out sand from your mouth. Deadpan.

“I told you it was gonna break.”

Nanami goes to speak. Your glare shuts him up. He loses his smile real fast.

“…Sorry.”

“I want five new bikinis now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*

a/n: take a shot everytime read the word beach chair 🥃

[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

[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

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 11

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

The weather is perfect for an outdoor party, not too hot despite it being summer, so Isla’s parents lucked out for their anniversary party. The sun is shining, though it’s not blistering hot as it begins its descent into the evening, and there’s a pleasant breeze that teases Isla’s skin, exposed thanks to the summer dress she’s wearing. Much to her relief, all of the dessert she had ordered had arrived exactly when it should have, decorating the dessert table near the bar.

The decorations included gold and white balloons tied to the tables and chairs, two number balloons that read 20 in front of a backdrop of the same color theme with a banner above that says Happy Anniversary. Along with the desserts, the table also holds small bottles of bubbles for guests as party favors to enjoy throughout the nice that has Mike & Anna’s 20th written on them. There’s a live band that plays music while everyone mingles, two bartenders serving the guests as Isla’s parents greet and thank people for coming.  

Isla and Kie’s friends were invited as well, along with their families; it’s majority Kooks, with some Pogues sprinkled in—and Kie had, very specifically, warned their friends to be on their best behavior and not get into it with any of the Kooks. As long as they keep away from each other throughout the party, things should be fine. The last thing anyone needs is a fight breaking out during her parents’ anniversary party.

“Sarah’s here,” Cleo says, looking past Isla’s shoulder as she bites into a cupcake.

The group of them are by the dessert table, idly eating and enjoying the music. Isla’s heart jumps as she turns to look, her gaze immediately landing on Rafe as he arrives with his family. He’s in a simple blue polo and beige pants, sunglasses covering his eyes, and Isla bites the inside of her cheek at the sight of him. Isla also sees her parents approach the Camerons to greet them, just as she feels a nudge to her side.

“Come on,” Kie says with a sigh. “You know Mom’s gonna want us to go say hi.” Glancing over at John B, she adds with a teasing grin, “Don’t worry, we’ll bring your girlfriend around.”

He rolls his eyes, the wind dancing through his tousled hair. “Thank you so much,” he says dryly.

Kie hooks her arm with Isla’s and pulls her along, nearly making her stumble thanks to the wedges she’s wearing, the necklaces she’s layered tinkling together as she moves. Her sister is in sneakers so with her heels, Isla’s the same height as Kie, which she finds both ridiculous and hilarious.

They approach their parents and the Camerons, and Isla smiles at Sarah before she notices the slight shift in Rafe’s head and Isla swears, despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, he’s looking right at her. She can feel it in the way her skin prickles with awareness and Isla has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her smile from growing. With a glance at Kie, she sees her sister not even acknowledge Rafe, which isn’t surprising, and instead is offering polite smiles to Sarah’s parents, and more genuine ones to Sarah and Wheezie.

“The place looks beautiful,” Rose comments, looking around the decorated area.

“All thanks to my girls,” Anna says, smiling at Isla and Kie. “Kie helped with the decorations, and Isla personally took care of all the dessert and made sure it got here on time from Chapel Hill.”

The mention of that has Isla’s gaze subtly flickering to Rafe. His head is dipped as he fixes the watch on his wrist, but she sees the way his eyes flick up from over the rim of his sunglasses, blue eyes meeting green as, in that moment, they both reminisce about their day together. A secret between them among their families and Isla’s cheeks flush, forcing herself to look away before anyone else notices.

“Sarah,” Kie says, nodding her head to where the others are.

While the parents talk—Wheezie having wandered off to find kids her age—Sarah and Kie begin walking to where their friends are, and Isla suppresses a sigh as she slowly turns to follow them. Her gaze meets Rafe’s once more, and he shoots her a small smile, a mutual understanding between them that as much as they want, they can’t exactly hang out at her parents’ party.

Even still, as she walks off with her friends, Isla feels a tug in her chest, as though her body is begging her to go back to Rafe. But she can’t, and she forces herself not to look affected as she rejoins her friends. “This is all so Kook-central,” JJ says, blue eyes looking around at the several guests around.

Kie rolls her eyes. “Enjoy the free food, JJ,” she tells him with a laugh, picking up a cupcake and offering it to him.

JJ takes it with an incomprehensible mutter. “How am I supposed to keep it down when Top’s stupid face is right there?” he asks, even as he takes a bite of the cupcake, blue frosting smearing at the corner of his mouth.

Isla and the others follow JJ’s gaze where Topper is standing at the other side of the party, sipping a drink and standing with a few other Kooks that Sarah went to school with—including Rafe. They’re chatting among themselves, sipping their drinks, and Isla doesn’t miss the way Topper looks back at them and glares. Specifically at Sarah and John B, because apparently he hasn’t moved on despite it being over a year since Sarah started dating John B.

“He’s never gonna let it go, is he?” Pope muses, seemingly thinking the same as Isla.

“One can only hope,” Sarah huffs, turning to give her back to her ex as John B’s arm goes around her shoulders.

Isla sees the way Topper’s glare tightens before he looks away, taking a long sip of his drink. Unable to help herself, Isla’s gaze slides to Rafe, who stands leaning back against the railing that separates the area the party is in from the sidewalk leading up to the dock. His sunglasses hang from the neckline of his shirt, elbows resting on the railing behind him as he laughs at something Kelce says.

She looks away quickly before she gets caught staring—gawking, admiring—and tunes back into the conversation in time to hear Cleo ask her and Kie, “When are your parents leaving?”

As his anniversary gift to their mom, Isla’s dad surprised her mom with two tickets for a long weekend away in Vermont, from this coming Friday morning to Monday evening. Their parents don’t often go away, since they like to be in town for the restaurant, but between Isla and Kie and the restaurant’s assistant manager, Holly, and the fact that it’s their anniversary, they’re making an exception to go to Vermont for four days.

“This Friday,” Kie answers with an excited wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Party?” JJ asks, perking up with brightened eyes.

Both Isla and Kie shoot him a look, simultaneously responding, “Hell, no.”

As much as Isla and her sister love going to parties, hosting them is a whole monster that neither of them particularly enjoy. Because while the party itself could be fun, the aftermath of cleaning up isn’t something Isla and her sister want to deal with at all, even if they recruit their friends to help.

JJ blows a raspberry, shoulders slumping. “Lame,” he remarks, laughing when Kie smacks his arm and takes another bite of the cupcake. “Shit, these are delicious,” he adds with an appreciative mumble.

“We can get them for your birthday,” Kie offers and Isla suppresses a knowing smile, her eyes meeting Sarah’s knowingly. Jeez, Isla wishes her sister and JJ would just get their heads out of their asses and get together already. Especially when JJ’s gaze softens ever so slightly at Kie’s offer, his smile turning appreciative. Isla is certain she’s only seen him smile like that at Kie. 

John B reaches around Cleo and snatches up one of the bubble bottles, twisting the top off to reveal the wand. Pointing it upwards, he blows and several bubbles of all sizes form out, Isla grinning as they seem to rain down on mostly her and Sarah. 

Isla holds a hand forward, grin widening as a bubble lands in her palm, lingering for a second before it pops. “Pass me one,” she says to Cleo, who’s standing closest to the table. 

Cleo tosses her one bottle, keeping another for herself, and soon each of them have their own bottle and Isla grins, taking a step back as she pulls out the wand and tilts her chin back to blow some out. Her eyes watch with childlike fascination, the rainbow of colors reflecting in the bubbles as they float, some popping quickly while others dance along the breeze, several in the air thanks to the whole group blowing the bubbles.

Sarah faces her, her own grin wide and small wand in hand, and she and Isla laugh as they blow bubbles at each other, squinting her eyes as one pops a few inches away from her face, though it doesn’t sting her eyes, fortunately. Giggling, Sarah says, “Maybe your parents decided to have these to distract us from starting shit.”

Isla snorts out a laugh, shaking her head. “Smart thinking on their part,” she says, dipping the wand back into the bottle. As she pulls it out again, Isla’s gaze flicks to the left, feeling the weight of someone’s gaze on her, and her heart trips to see Rafe staring at her. Or she assumes, given the fact that he’s wearing sunglasses, but he’s facing this way. And the way her skin prickles, she just knows he’s watching her. The distance between them feels too great and—

All of a sudden, her view of Rafe is obstructed as her mom appears in view. “Hey, honey,” she greets with a breathless smile. “Can you do me a favor?” she asks, digging into her purse and pulling out her car keys. “I left my jacket in the car, can you bring it?”

“Jacket?” Isla blinks, spinning the top closed as she lets out a chuckle. “Isn’t it a little warm for a jacket?”

Anna scoffs, holding out the keys. “It’s not a jacket-jacket. More like a lace cover up. Pulls the outfit together and, plus, it’s going to get a little chilly when the sun goes down.” Her dark eyes give her a look over, as well as Kie standing behind her, chatting with the others. “You girls should’ve brought something to wear over, too.”

Isla laughs, taking the keys. “Alright, alright. I’ll get it.” Glancing at her friends, she tells them, “I’ll be right back.”

The gravel crunches under her shoes as she walks towards the main opening of the party area, walking around the metal fence separating the area with the sidewalk and heading towards the parking lot. It’s pretty crowded, almost every spot filled, not just with people attending Isla’s parents’ party but for the restaurants around and since it’s tourist season, padding boating on the water nearby.

Her dad’s pick up truck is a few rows away and Isla weaves between the other cars until she reaches it, walking around to the passenger side. Squinting slightly against the sunlight, she opens the passenger door and frowns when she doesn’t see her mom’s cover up before her gaze flickers and sees it in the backseat.

Huffing, Isla shuts the door and opens the back passenger door, leaning in to reach for the lace cover-up towards the other end, stepping up on the runner to be closer. A breeze tickles the back of her thighs and Isla reaches back to make sure she’s not flashing anyone—not that she thinks anyone could even see anything given the tons of cars around. Once the cover-up is in hand, Isla moves backwards and puts her foot back on the ground, gravel crunching once more, and is about to step away to close the door when a hand suddenly lands on her hip.

Isla freezes for a split second, feeling the warmth of someone behind her, before a familiar voice says, “Anyone ever tell you yellow’s your color?”

A shiver rushes down her spine, a smile tugging up the corners of her lips as Rafe’s hand slides from her hip to her front, resting on her stomach as he pulls her to him. His touch is warm, burning her deliciously through the thin material of her dress as she feels his solid torso pressing against her back. 

He makes her pulse quicken as Isla tilts her head to the side the slightest, sighing happily when she feels his lips skim the side of her neck. “I think you’re the first,” she replies, her voice surprisingly not as breathless as she feels at the softness of his lips. 

“Hm,” he hums and she can sense the smile as he kisses her neck, spreading heat throughout her body. It’s risky, being here like this with him. But they’re on the other side of the truck from the party, and the height of it blocks them anyway, if anyone were to look. Rafe’s hand slides even further to her other hip, tightening his hold to turn her around, and Isla smiles as she finally looks up at his face, sunglasses still covering his eyes.

She watches as his own smile curves up his lips, the sight making her pulse quicken as his strong arm wraps around her waist, holding her close. Her free hand slides up his chest, the material of his shirt soft, until her arm is loosely wrapped around his neck. “You look pretty good in blue,” she tells him through a smile.

Rafe arches an eyebrow, dipping his chin so their eyes can meet over the glasses. “Just pretty good?” he asks, still smiling.

Isla’s smile widens. With her mom’s cover-up draped across her arm, she reaches her hand up and swiftly swipes his sunglasses off. Rafe squints briefly against the sunlight, his smile remaining as he watches Isla put the Ray Bans on her face. Warmth spreads through her chest at the way his eyes soften, watching Isla give a sly grin. “Very handsome,” she corrects before lifting her chin. “How do I look?”

Rafe’s hand rests on her lower back, blue eyes looking over her face, his bangs grazing past his eyebrows. “Very much like a girl I want to kiss.”

Her heart skips a beat or two, her fingers teasing his hair at the back of his head. She glances over her shoulder, though the truck obscures her view of anything. “We don’t have much time,” Isla says as she turns back to face him.

Rafe is already leaning towards her, Isla’s grin growing the closer he gets as she takes his sunglasses and slides them up to rest on the top of her head. His hand on her back increases pressure and his gaze drops to her lips, heat slipping through her veins as Rafe’s voice drops low when he murmurs, “Any time with you is worth it.”

He seals his words by pressing his lips to hers, barely giving Isla any time to think of what he just said, too distracted by the way he kisses her. Isla’s stomach presses against his, humming happily against Rafe’s lips as he leans towards her, and Isla’s fingers thread through his hair at the back of his head as Rafe moves her backward until she’s leaning against the edge of the backseat.

When his tongue slides into her mouth, a low moan escapes Isla, and it seems to push Rafe in moving his hand that’s resting at the small of her back until his arm winds itself around her, just under her ass, and Isla gasps out a laugh into the kiss when he suddenly lifts her just enough to rest her on the seat. Rafe leans forward, ducking into the truck, and all thoughts eddie out of Isla’s head as she parts her legs to let his lean body fit between them where he stands next to the truck, and Isla’s heart thunders wildly at the way Rafe’s tongue teases hers.

This is so risky, Isla knows, but God, she can’t bring herself to care when Rafe’s kisses make her head spin so wildly. Anyone could walk by and spot them, but it doesn’t really matter right now. She’s already addicted to the taste of him, has already memorized the shape and feel of his lips as she sucks on his lower lip, relishing in the deep groan he releases. His hands slide along the sides of her thighs, somehow both heat and goosebumps spreading through her skin in response to his touch, and her own fingers tighten in his hair.

“It drives me fucking crazy,” Rafe mumbles, Isla gasping against his lips when she feels his fingers press into the flesh of her thighs. Her heart is running a mile a minute, heat dampening her underwear at having him so close and desperately needing him—but knowing now definitely isn’t the time. It’s all she can think until Rafe continues, “Seeing you like this and not being able to even fucking talk to you.”

“Like this?” Isla questions breathlessly as Rafe’s lips trail kisses down the line of her jaw, her head tilting back and eyes shut as she enjoys his kisses.

The air hitches in her throat when Rafe kisses in that spot right where her jaw and neck meet. “Beautiful,” Rafe answers, grip on her tightening, pulling her close. 

Isla moans as his teeth teasingly nip at her skin, and she cups his face and brings it back up so she can kiss him again. “You’re tired of keeping this a secret already?” she asks, her words practically a whisper. “We only just started.”

Their kiss breaks for a moment and Isla’s eyes flutter open to see Rafe looking down at her with his own hooded eyes. Her heart launches to her throat when she sees his kiss swollen lips, slightly glittering with the shine of her lip gloss having rubbed off on him. The sight only dampens her underwear even more, breathing heavily against him. His blue eyes have darkened and, God, the way he’s looking at her, like he wants to swallow her whole. Oh, she’d let him.

“I know,” Rafe replies, his voice roughened. One of his hands slides away from the hem of her dress, coming up to brush her dark hair out of her face. Her racing heart melts when his knuckles gently graze along her cheekbones, watching her with a look that has her sliding her hand out of his hair and resting at the side of his neck.

Some of the haze of lust fades away as Rafe straightens, Isla sitting on the edge of the seat sideways, his body still standing between her legs. “You changing your mind?” she asks him with a slight tilt of her head. Her stomach knots slightly at the idea of Rafe having any kind of regret when it comes to her and this relationship.

His gaze snaps back to hers, forehead creasing. “Absolutely not,” he says firmly, the conviction in his voice relaxing Isla as she rubs her lips together for a second. “It’s just. . . An adjustment,” he finishes with a flash of a half smile.

“Dating a Pogue?” Isla supplies with a small, teasing smirk.

He huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “No,” he says, and that alone makes her heart swell. Such a small thing, but it somehow holds a lot of significance for her. Meeting her gaze, Rafe clarifies, “Wanting someone so badly and not being able to kiss you whenever the hell I want.”

“It’s hard for me too,” Isla tells him with a gentle smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. In the distance, she can hear the party going on, the chatter of people overpowered by the music playing by the band. But her gaze is on Rafe. “It’s only temporary though, right? Just for now. Just until the time is right to tell everyone.”

Truth be told, Isla isn’t a hundred percent certain when the time will be right to tell her friends about her and Rafe. She wants her and Rafe to be seeing each other for a bit, to be in an established relationship between them, before she tells them. So they don’t think she’s lost her mind, or think she’s only hooking up with him. No matter when she tells them, or how, no doubt the Pogues will have something or another to say.

It’s a thought that makes her more anxious than she’d like to think, trying her best not to dwell on it too hard. The fact of the matter is, Isla just wants to enjoy being with Rafe, to savor the excitement that comes with sneaking around, and get to know him more and more while they’re alone in their bubble. This thing between them, tentatively unlabeled but quickly heading in the direction she wants it to, is still very new and they both are learning to navigate it. She doesn’t want to put a timer on things as to when they can be public—when she will tell her friends. And she hopes Rafe is in the same mindset as her. Though, as with any healthy relationship, open communication is where it all comes down to, isn’t it?

Throat working briefly, Isla continues, “I know it’s annoying to keep this a secret—” She trails a finger along the sharp curve of his jaw until it’s under his chin, tipping his face towards her, smiling gently when his softening eyes meet hers. “And that it’d be much easier to be with someone you don’t have to sneak ar—”

“What’d I tell you before?” Rafe asks with an arch of his eyebrow. “I don’t care that we have to hide, because I know it’s important for you to find the right time to tell my sister and your friends.” He smiles then, giving a one shouldered shrug. “I’m just looking forward to the day we can do whatever we want, whenever we want. No matter how far down the road that is.”

Her heart swells. “Yeah?”

Rafe dips his chin in a nod, pressing a swift kiss to her lips. “Yeah,” he answers, pulling back with a smile.

She relaxes even more, his reassuring words providing more comfort than she expects. “Well, in that case,” she starts slowly, smile growing as she shifts her hand so it’s cupping his jaw, using her thumb to wipe at his lips to get rid of the glitter from her lip gloss still on his lips. “How ’bout another date?” Isla tilts her head, briefly biting her bottom lip when she sees the way his eyebrows flick upwards in curiosity. “Our third one,” she adds with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Third?” he asks with a laugh, moving back so Isla can get out of the truck, her mom’s cover up in hand as she fixes the skirt of her dress. As Isla takes off her sunglasses and hands them back to Rafe, he asks, “When’d we have the second one?”

She laughs as he taps a closed fist on top of his folded sunglasses. “I think our day in the park counts as a second date,” she muses.

Rafe shoots her a flat expression. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she shrugs with a grin. “But it’s my turn to plan the date this time.”

His expression shifts to one of amused curiosity, his smile making her heart flutter. As always. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, his hand reached out so his fingers lightly grasp her chin. Her skin sizzles when he touches her, air locking in her throat when his thumb gently wipes at the skin just beneath her bottom lip. She has a feeling he’s wiping away her smeared lip gloss. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out, wanting to lean into him and kiss him again. But she can hear the party, and no doubt her parents and friends will begin wondering where she is. “Friday night?”

Her parents leave in the morning and she has a shift at The Wreck, but it’s not a closing shift. She also knows for a fact that Kie is going to be at the movies at the park with Cleo, because they both have a wild crush on Dev Patel and Monkey Man is playing, and while Isla doesn’t know about the others, she knows they’ll be busy, too. It’d be the perfect night for her and Rafe to hang out.

“I’m down,” Rafe says with a grin. “Text me the details?”

She nods, running her fingers through her hair before gently rubbing at her lips. Her purse is back at the party, so she can’t fix her lip gloss, so she just hopes for the best as she asks Rafe, “I look okay?”

Rafe’s gaze lingers on her face, flickering around as though he’s watching every feature—from the curve of her eyelashes to the gold nose ring to the pout of her lips. It only makes her stomach flutter. “Gorgeous,” he says, voice low and reverent and enough to make that flutter into a hurricane. Rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb, Rafe looks past her for a second before saying, “You go ahead. I’ll, uh, be back in a bit.”

His eyes drop down for a moment and Isla’s eyebrows raise as she follows his gaze until it stops at his pants, noting the very prominent bulge that has Isla’s throat drying in realization. The heat that had melted through her veins returns in that second, desire tightening her throat as she forces her gaze to flicker back up to him. When she meets his gaze again, he doesn’t look embarrassed—not that he should—but the way he’s got a ghost of a smirk has her pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth, because she knows he knows exactly what’s going through her head.

“Um, yeah, sounds good,” Isla says with a quick clearing of her throat, cheeks flushing deeply that she’s sure she resembles a tomato. She also does her very best not to think about how, so far, they’ve only just kissed and she can’t wait for the moment they finally get to do more. “I’m, um, gonna go.”

Rafe’s smirk widens and Isla can feel his gaze on her as she shuts the truck door and locks it. When she looks up at him, Isla shakes her head, rolling her lips into her mouth briefly when he chuckles. “Don’t look at me like that,” she mumbles, lightly smacking the sleeve of her mom’s cover up against Rafe’s chest as she moves to go past him.

He laughs again and Isla gasps slightly when his arm slides around her once more, hand on her stomach, and stops her long enough for him to duck his head forward and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “See you there,” he murmurs against her skin before pulling back, and oh boy, the butterflies in her belly belong to him.

Isla walks back to the party before she convinces herself to stay with him, the music and chatter growing louder the closer she gets. She swears her lips still tingle from kissing Rafe, struggling to bite back a smile as she easily finds her mom talking to some guests. 

“Thanks, baby,” Anna says with a smile as she takes the cover up, before doing a double take. Her forehead creases, turning away from the others to face Isla fully. “You okay? You look flushed,” she adds, lightly pressing the back of her hand against Isla’s cheek.

Isla blinks, forcing her eyes not to widen in surprise as to not give away anything. Sure, her mom knew that Isla went on a date with Rafe, and her mom’s been great about keeping things quiet—especially from Kiara. Still, Isla isn’t exactly ready to tell her mom that the reason for her oh-so-flushed cheeks is because she has just finished making out with Rafe in her dad’s truck.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Isla assures with a laugh that she hopes doesn’t sound too forced.

Anna pulls her hand back, looking at her for a moment. Her gaze flicks around before stepping towards Isla, dipping her chin even as her gaze remains locked with Isla’s. “I know Kie and your friends have some issues with Rafe,” her mom whispers, which Isla isn’t expecting her to say. “Everything good on that front?”

Isla’s gaze flicks to where her friends are, sitting at a table now and talking amongst themselves, keeping their distance away from the Kooks and enjoying their little bubble. She loves that bubble. Even if, right now, there’s a fear of popping it because of her evolving relationship with Rafe.

“Mom,” Isla starts, shooting her mom a pointed look and putting on a smile so anyone watching doesn’t think anything is amiss. “I love you, but you don’t need to worry about anything. Let’s not have this specific conversation right at this moment?”

Realization is quick to dawn on her mother, thankfully. She laughs and nods, much to Isla’s relief. “Got it.”

The rest of the party goes on easily, with Isla and Kie sitting with their parents during the dinner. Before it was served, though, their dad had made a beautiful speech about their mom, expressed his love for Anna and their daughters, and Isla had definitely teared up during it. While Kie wrapped both of her arms around Isla’s shoulder and pulled her in, sitting next to each other, Isla had wiped her nose with a tissue and her gaze had somehow found Rafe’s, where he sat with his family. And with his sunglasses off, she saw that he was looking directly at her, and when he noted the tears in her eyes, had given her a small smile, his own gaze softening, and while Isla hugs her sister back, she also kind of wishes she had Rafe’s hand to hold, too.

That’s not possible, though. Not yet, anyway.

Later on in the night, Isla’s laughter rings out as JJ gives her a twirl on the makeshift dance floor, the band playing a cover of Check Yes Juliet, and the skirt of her dress flares around her as she does. Her friends surround them while other guests dance as well, the sun having long since set and the fairy lights that are hanging above them illuminating the area beautifully. With the sun gone and the sky darkened, it is a little cooler out, but Isla’s having too much dancing with her friends—and dancing off all of the food she happily ate during the dinner.

JJ spins her again and Isla laughs, throwing her arm around his shoulders once she’s straightened. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna get dizzy,” she says over the music, her other hand finding Kie’s and pulling her sister over, her other arm around Kie’s shoulders as the three of them dance—or jump—to the music. When she glances to her left, Isla notes Kie’s gaze lingering on JJ, her smile a little distance, and Isla leans towards her and whispers, “Maybe let him twirl you.” Kie looks at her like she’s insane and Isla has to stifle a laugh. “Or maybe not.”

God, these two idiots.

“Sarah.” Isla’s gaze snaps to Rafe making his way towards their group, standing taller than everyone else. Because of her arm around JJ, she can feel his shoulders tense at Rafe’s arrival and with one glance, Isla sees the way JJ’s jaw clenches, blue eyes trained on Rafe, who is focused on his sister. Sarah turns to look at him, John B’s arms around her, though her smile doesn’t falter as she looks at her brother. “We’re heading out. Are you coming with us or staying with John B?”

“No, no, I’m coming,” Sarah tells him. 

Rafe dips his chin in a nod as Sarah turns to give John B a kiss and, right then, though Rafe doesn’t fully face her to his right, his eyes still meet Isla’s. Everyone around them dances, other than her friends, really, but Isla feels her stomach flutter, the heat of her surroundings nothing compared to what ignites when Rafe just looks at her. It’s dangerous, given that they’re around all of her friends, but her heart hasn’t gotten the memo.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Sarah says to the rest of them with a smile before nodding her chin at Rafe. “Let’s go.”

Rafe’s gaze darts away from Isla, and she misses the weight of it as the brother and sister make their way out of the crowd, Rafe easily parting the people around them and Sarah following in his wake. As the band changes songs and Isla sees Rafe disappear from view, JJ huffs from next to her. “Can’t stand that guy.”

Isla blinks before her head turns to him. Ignoring the tightness in her stomach—this time more painful than anything else—she forces out a laugh. “He didn’t even do anything. This time, at least,” she hastily adds, feeling a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” JJ shrugs, running his fingers through his hair while his arm drops from around Isla’s shoulders. “He’s the fucking king of the Kooks. Asshole by default.”

“I thought Ward was the king of the Kooks?” Cleo muses with an arched eyebrow. “Since Sarah was the Kook princess?”

“Yeah, that’d make Rafe prince of the Kooks, right?” Pope pipes in, and the whole conversation seems so surreal that Isla isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or spiral a little, knowing they’re all talking about Rafe.

JJ, though, is a little fed up. “Shut up, y’all know what I meant,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “He’s an asshole. Always has been, let’s leave it at that.”

Isla doesn’t want to leave it at that, but she bites her tongue—literally, feeling the sting as she traps it between her teeth. There’s a tightness in her chest, hearing Rafe being talked about like this. The change is sudden and new and something Isla is readily becoming familiar with—this change of completely disliking when one of her best friends openly calls Rafe an asshole. Especially when she has seen a side of him none of them have—a side she has a very strong feeling is the real him.

It’s been a while since there has been any physical altercation between Pogues and Kooks—one that has involved Rafe, anyway. John B and Topper often get into it, since Topper still can’t seem to accept that Sarah left him and hates to see her with John B, but Rafe has kept his distance from these fights. Since even before he and Isla got together.

Come to think of it, it’s been since Sarah’s birthday—the night that he had told Isla changed his feelings for her. Like he was keeping himself out of trouble with her friends in respect to her, and the notion is sweet and lovely, but not one she can disclose to her friends. She so badly wants to defend him, to tell JJ he’s being ridiculous and unfair since Rafe hasn’t done shit, but that would so obviously raise suspicions. Her friends would think she’s insane for defending him. 

So Isla stays quiet—and hates every bit of it.