#i was cooking some curry but fucked up

[icejello]

It's just a little mistake

A/N: Here's some Kavehtham angst (if you can consider it as that) that I thought off just before falling asleep. This is also in honor of Kaveh's character story bcs i love that man so much (tw: anxiety attack?)

A delicious aroma wafted through the house and eventually reached Al Haitham's nose as he tried to focus on the task he had to solve as the Acting Grand Sage, which really in his defense he would rather not do it but Lesser Lord Kusanali insisted on making him the Grand Sage and-

He snapped out of his train of thoughts when he felt someone poke his shoulder. He turned his head to see his roommate standing behind him with his arms crossed. They stared at each other in silence before Kaveh rolls his eyes and started to make some hand gestures. Turn off your noise cancelling. Seeing that, Al Haitham realized that he indeed has his noise cancelling on and Kaveh had probably spent the last few minutes calling him.

"What is it, Kaveh? I'm working." He turned it off and the sounds of his surroundings greeted his ears, along with the sound of Kaveh's annoyed foot tapping.

"I've been calling, no yelling your name for the past few minutes just so you know," Kaveh stated with a glare thrown at him.

"Oh really? I did not hear you," Al Haitham shrugged and turned back to the papers on his desk.

"An apology would be nice, Acting Grand Sage," Kaveh emphasized on his title and Al Haitham did not held back the small smile on his face as he replied, "I don't see why I should, Light of Kshahrewar." With his face turned around, Kaveh wouldn't be able to see the small smile on his face anyways and if Al Haitham had to be honest, bantering with Kaveh right now would be a thousand times better than dealing with the papers on his desk.

"You are so annoying," Al Haitham merely hums at his words as he rereads the words written on the paper. "Hey! Don't ignore me!" "Well hurry up and say what your purpose is for coming here then," was all the answer Kaveh received and the blonde contemplated smacking the back of his junior's head.

"I made some pie and was calling you to eat it together," Al Haitham stopped reading when he heard those words, "but you can forget about eating it now with that attitude of yours!" Al Haitham turned around in surprise to look at the blonde, a slight blush seems to decorate his face. "You made pie?" "Did you not hear a single word I said-" "Why?" Kaveh stopped talking when Al Haitham cut him off and stared at him before looking away and answering, "you just seemed stressed these days with your job so I thought I'd make you some pie since you like them and-"

"You made pie for me?" Al Haitham was even more surprised now. "I- yes- You know what forget it, I'm just going to go and eat it alone now," Kaveh turned around to leave and Al Haitham quickly followed after him. "Why are you following me?" "This is my house, I can go anywhere I want," "Is there a reason you're going to the dining room with me right now?" "... There's pie,"

Kaveh stops and turns to look at him. "Are you kidding me, Al Haitham? I just said you can't have it," "You also said you made it for me specifically," "That is not the point!" Al Haitham simply walks past him and pulls out a chair at the dining table. He could hear Kaveh muttering to himself from the door as he walks to the kitchen counter to take the pie, pretty sure he also heard some curse words there but it only made Al Haitham amused.

"Here, take it since you want to eat it so badly." Al Haitham stared at the slice of pie in front of him before staring at Kaveh who was standing beside him. "What? What is it? Why are you staring at me?" "There's only one slice," "Are you seriously asking for more you-" "No, where's yours?" Kaveh shut his mouth at that question.

"Where's yours, Kaveh?" Al Haitham repeated his question again. "I'll eat mine later so stop your complaining and just eat it," "You said you wanted to eat together," "I also said you weren't supposed to get any," Kaveh glared at him so he just sighs and turn his attention back to the slice of pie. He was about to eat it but turned his gaze back to Kaveh again, "aren't you going to sit?" "I- I'm fine with standing." Kaveh crossed his arms and threw yet another glare at Al Haitham. "Can you eat it already?" "Why are you being so nervous about this pie?" "I made it! Of course I want to know what you think of it!" "This is the usual pie you make for me though, isn't it?" "Just shut your mouth and eat it already!" Kaveh had enough and immediately took the spoon and shoved a spoonful into Al Haitham's mouth which did an amazing job at shutting him up.

"So? How is it?" Kaveh didn't understand it himself why he's feeling nervous about what Al Haitham's opinion is. Knowing his roommate, it definitely would only be criticism to mock him and rile him up even more but still he was nervous about it. Al Haitham was silent for a while even after Kaveh could see that he had swallowed it. "What is it? You're being so silent, was it that good that it made you speechless?" Kaveh would prefer to be optimistic because surely it couldn't be that bad that Al Haitham is rendered speechless.

"Kaveh did you..." Al Haitham trailed off as he stares at the pie before looking at the blonde. "Did I what? Al Haitham finish that sentence, did I what?" He became even more nervous as the feelings of anxiety starts to flood in. "... did you change your recipe? Or is it just me that tasted it differently?" Kaveh felt his heart seemed to stop dead at that time. Stopped before racing up and the sound of his thundering heartbeat seemed to fill his ears. He did not change the recipe.

He instantly ate a spoonful of the pie and the world seemed to stop dead as realization washed over him. He had messed up the recipe. Panic rushed over him as he starts running through the process while he was making the pie, was it the sugar? It seemed to taste a bit plain or did he not cook it enough? Where did he messed up? How did he messed up? What did he do wrong? He stood there frozen as his hand gripped the spoon harder.

"Kaveh...?" Kaveh muttered something under his breath which Al Haitham didn't quite catch. "Kaveh? What did you say?" "I... I messed up the recipe," the answer was barely a whisper which Al Haitham almost didn't hear. He studied the blonde's face and recognize the look on his face. Kaveh was having anxiety attack.

"Kaveh, its alright, the pie still tastes fine, I can still eat it." Al Haitham made a move to reach for the plate but Kaveh quickly pulled it away. "Kaveh...?" "No, don't- don't eat it anymore, don't even- don't touch it." His eyes seemed to shake in fear and Al Haitham notes the way his hands are shaking while holding onto the plate and spoon. "Kaveh I'm telling you its alright, the pie can still be eaten-" Kaveh shook his head as he slowly backs away.

"It- it can't Al Haitham, I messed the recipe up, I should- I should throw this away. Yeah, I'll throw it away and maybe..." He stopped talking as he stares at the slice of pie. "No, what am I kidding? I can't make a new one, I'll mess it up again, I'm- I'm sorry Al Haitham, I wanted to make this for you but I can't even do something like this nicely." Kaveh turned around and went to take the rest of the pie.

"Kaveh, listen to me, the pie is alright, you don't need to throw it away." Al Haitham felt a slight panic inside him. He wasn't the best person to go to when it comes to comforting someone. He was awkward with it especially with his difficulty to really express feelings. Right now, he needs to comfort Kaveh and bring him out of his head. Al Haitham watches as Kaveh seemed to ignore him but he knows it wasn't intentional, Kaveh must be having a rush of thoughts in his head, it would be filled with panic that Haitham needs to pull him out of. "Kaveh snap out of it and listen to me. Look at me Kaveh please, listen to me."

Al Haitham grabbed Kaveh's face to force him look at him. His cheeks were damp and Al Haitham could see the tears in his eyes. Kaveh was crying. "Why are you crying?" "I messed up the recipe, you must be annoyed I mean these are your ingredients after all and I just wasted them like that, I'm sorry I'll buy it again to replace it. You probably wouldn't want to accept that I mean-" Kaveh continued rambling as more tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Why are you crying, Light of Kshahrewar?" There was a new softness in Al Haitham's voice as his gaze seemed to soften and look at Kaveh with a rare gentleness and care. "I don't- I don't know, aren't you mad? I just wasted the ingredients you brought and we can't even eat it and.... I don't know, Al Haitham, I don't know." The softness seemed to made him feel worse, his voice cracked as he questions why Al Haitham is looking at him so softly instead of angry, pissed or annoyed.

"No, Kaveh, I'm not angry at you and you did nothing wrong." Al Haitham wiped Kaveh's tears away with his thumb and gave his cheeks a soft caress. "But I messed up the recipe, I ruined the pie I-" "You did nothing wrong, my love." Al Haitham rarely referred to Kaveh as that. Actually, he rarely ever calls him anything other than his name or Light of Kshahrewar. He was not the type to use nicknames but there were rare moments where he would. Kaveh's lips trembled as Al Haitham continues to show that rare softness and tenderness of his.

"Are you... Are you really not angry? At all?" Instead of answering, Al Haitham kissed his cheeks where he had just wiped his tears off. The left side and then the right side. Surprisingly, he pressed another kiss at his forehead, this time longer than the other two were before pulling back to look into Kaveh's eyes. "I'm not angry, now stop crying, you're ruining your make-up."

It was not a surprise to Kaveh that Al Haitham does not try to comfort him more. He understood well enough that he struggles to even express his true feelings but seeing him try nonetheless was more than enough. "Shut up, I know my face looks alright or you would have a smudge on your lips." "What do you know? I already wiped your tears before kissing you," realization crashed over Kaveh as he grabbed Al Haitham's hands. "Is my make-up really ruined? Oh my archons, I must look hideous right now."

A chuckle slipped past Al Haitham's lips as he smiles at Kaveh. "I'm joking, you look fine." Kaveh squints his eyes at him, "no I don't believe you." He tried to pull away but Al Haitham wrapped his arms around Kaveh's waist instead, trapping him in an embrace. Kaveh froze before slowly wrapping his arms around Al Haitham's neck and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, catching a whiff of Al Haitham scent.

"Thank you, love," it was a whisper quiet enough to make sure only Kaveh would hear it even though it was only them in the house. It was as if those words were for him and him alone, not for the world or the archons to hear. He simply hugged Al Haitham tighter as an answer. "Care to join me and eat some pie?" Al Haitham offered him a smile as he pulled away. "Alright but I'm going to check my check my face first, no doubt I look like a mess." With one last kiss, Al Haitham let Kaveh go as he walks away towards the bathroom. Al Haitham busied himself by cutting a slice for Kaveh and that's when a yell that he was sure the whole of Sumeru could hear. "Al Haitham, you liar! I hate you!" The Acting Grand Sage just smirks as he eats a spoonful of pie.

[david-watts]

I think at this point I'm immune to gaslighting like fucking try me. don't say 'I haven't rearranged the pantry' when you have, actually, and made a massive fuss about it

[tim-official]

the current trend of "tumblr users embarrassing themselves by proudly announcing why they don't listen to any music made by black people" is really astounding.

i cannot help but think this is a direct result of liberal White Guilt and how people have interpreted "anti-racism" as form of cultural self-segregation - the kind of person who thinks trying to cook chicken curry is cultural appropriation, or sends white people anon hate for wearing a kimono (yes, this kind of discourse happened). like, "oh, no, i could never participate in this culture, i'd get my evil white hands all over it! it would be more Progressive if I only did White things."

if you're a poc you've seen this, i'm sure - this deer-in-the-headlights stare you can get from white people when you play music / show art / share a story / anything that is Racially Coded, this total refusal to actually engage with it out of fear that it is in some way Wrong for them to have any opinion on it. because they read somewhere that it's bad to use AAVE but the only lesson they actually learned from that is "gotcha, white people are not allowed to interact with other cultures as punishment for my White Crimes. this helps to fill up the gaping pit of my white guilt and makes me one of the Good People." this transforms their discomfort around non-white cultures (black culture, especially, i should add) into a kind of virtue

anyway if you are white and reading this. go listen to some fucking haliu mergia. ethiopian jazz. will knock your dick right off. go listen to rap or reggae or bollywood and have a genuine reaction to it - like, an actual, from-the-heart reaction. you are allowed to not like some of it. but you will definitely like at least a little. yes, you can compare it to lemon demon (or whatever) if that helps you get into it and that's your only point of reference. maybe don't say that part out loud. but don't, like, separate yourself from it, like you are seeing it in a museum and the only polite thing to do is go "ahh, huh, very interesting, so much culture here."

[notiddygothgf]

Boyfriend | Aki Hayakawa

★ pairings: aki x f!reader

★ synopsis: being aki's favorite girl has many perks.

★ a/n: i couldnt stop thinking about boyfie!aki omfg... brainrot.

★ c.w.: fluff, nicknames, smut(ish). no beta we die like... ahem.

1. He's thoughtful!

Aki is notoriously attentive when it comes to his line of work, but nothing compares to how attentive he is when it comes to you and your needs. He can read you like a book. It's just something about those eyes of yours, something about the way you look at him that tells him all that he needs to know about you -- he's got you all figured out.

When it's a party or a work event, he can see your expression a mile away. You would be perched in the corner, anxiously swirling your drink around. He'd reach an arm around you, pulling you close enough that your shoulders would bump into his chest. "Do you want to leave?" He'd ask. And how could you refuse -- when he made it sound so tempting?

He'll remember little things about you -- the shows you like, your favorite foods, your favorite fabrics to wear. His brain is like a little notepad, full of facts about you. When you're having a particularly, bad day, he'll bring home a container of your favorite soup from the place up the street he knows you love. He'll treat you to trinkets and sweaters (sometimes printed with the name of the last town he visited on the mission, sometimes they were his) and whatever stupid little thing makes him think of you (seriously, he brought you a rock with googly eyes from a gift shop in Shibuya once because, and quote, "It reminds me of you").

He knows your body like the back of his hand; knows where you like being kissed, touched, caressed, held. He knows you like it's second nature, like you're an extension of himself.

2. He can cook

You're grateful for that, considering that if he couldn't cook, the two of you would have been completely fucked. You're about as gifted in the kitchen as a toddler with a wooden spoon.

It's okay though. He doesn't mind. He loves cooking for his pretty girl. Curry, Stews, Rice, Chicken -- whatever your little heart desires (or whatever he's decided is on the menu for tonight). And he's good at it, too. He's got a real talent for cheffing it up. The kind of talent that makes you moan words of praise through mouthfuls of food while you chow down.

"You like it?" He'd ask, a teasing lilt tinging his words.

"Fuckin' perfect," You'd reply, voice muffled by mounds of food. "You got a gift."

He wouldn't have believed it had it come from anyone else. But for you? He would have to make an exception.

He only wished he could make enough for you to take leftovers. With two ravenous roommates, however -- the kind that scarf down just about everything but the plate -- that was kinda hard.

(Still, whenever he could, he would sneak a few extra servings into some containers to give to you.).

3. Super Affectionate

You love it when he comes home to you. You love it when he collapses into your arms and wraps his strong arms around you, swaddling you entirely with his warmth. You love when he takes you out with him -- takes you shopping, takes you on dates, takes you on grocery runs to get a brief moment of peace from his roommates.

Aki is nothing if not proud of his girlfriend. Though usually quite timid and stoic, he has no qualms about claiming you in public. (sometimes in a family bathroom stall, if it's one of those days). He'll walk around with his hand on your lower back, your waist, your hip, your ass -- whatever he can get ahold of to let the world know that you're his.

It's usually you who initiates the PDA. He's the one who runs with it.

It'll start with a kiss to his lips, his jaw, his neck, his nose. That's all it takes for him to be pulling you in for more, suddenly rather careless about who sees the two of you. He'll ask you for a kiss. Then another. Then another. Then one last one (it's a trap).

And you, being the lovestruck idiot that you are, you'll stand up on your tippy toes and give him all of the kisses you can muster.

At work parties, you're never far from him -- never out of his line of sight. He said something about his coworkers being "dogs", but you had yet to experience even a double glance in your direction. Being with Aki was like having a bodyguard.

He loves it the most when you sit on his lap. He'll pull you close to him by the waist, hugging your legs from where he's seated. He'll let you entertain his drunken coworkers for a few minutes, perhaps even a few comments from Denji about your looks, and then he'll tug you down to take a seat where you belong (in his lap. no one else's. his lap).

Your pretty face would flush for a moment, stuttering to find the words to continue what you had been saying. He didn't care about anyone else when you were around -- you made him needy. Still, he would hide his blushing face in your neck, your shoulder. Breathe in the scent of your expensive perfume, the scent of your skin that was so uniquely you.

Baby, he'd call you.

Princess, Mama, Angel face.

He couldn't keep the pet names away. It was what gave your relationship away to everyone to begin with, after all. It had been a small meeting with a few Devil Hunters, only two beers in, and you had handed him his third.

"Thanks, Baby," He murmurred, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he tilted his head back. His eyes widened the moment he realized what he had done.

"Baby?" Himeno repeated.

"Baby?" Denji echoed.

"Like, an infant?" Power chimed in. Denji went to explain.

Aki sputtered profusely, hurried chants of, "Wait, wait--" leaving his lips. And you would just laugh, letting him feel the backlash from his coworkers.

"You are dating! I fuckin'-- HIC! -- knew it!" Himeno pumped her drink in the air. "You lyin' little shit."

Not like the way he looked at you didn't give it away from the beginning.

4. Way with words

He loves to spoil his girl. Not just with money (although he certainly doesn't hesitate to buy you whatever your heart desires, or to send you a couple thousand to treat yourself to something nice).

He spoils you with his words, with his saccharine tongue that overflows with pretty things the moment the two of you are alone.

"My pretty girl," He'll say. "Only mine. Only for me."

"Only for you," You'll say back.

He has a certain way with words. Perhaps it's the bluntness of it that makes you fall harder for him. He never hesitates to tell you exactly what's on his mind.

It's a whisper of, "I love you," against your cheek.

It's a grumble of, "Want you," while he leaves fleeting touches of your waist and hips.

And God, he knows how to talk your panties right off.

Lips pursed around a cancer stick, he'll breathe out everything you want to hear.

"'M gonna marry you some day," He'd say. "If I don't, I'll die trying."

"I love the way you look in that dress."

"Your eyes look so pretty."

"You take me so well, pretty."

Whoops. Did I let that last one slip out?

Well, then, I suppose that leads me to number 5.

5. Fantastic Lover

Aki is gifted in a multitude of ways. One of your personal favorites? His hands. His hands on your face, your chest, your lips -- his rough grip on your hips while he devours you.

He loves to spoil you with his attention. Sometimes, that means he'll have you clawing at the bed with anticipation before he even thinks about going faster.

"Can't rush perfection," he'd say.

And you'd tell him, "Shut up and fuck me."

He can't get enough of you. On the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen counter while everyone is still asleep -- he's addicted to the taste of you whenever he can have it. He loves the way you fall apart around him, around his tongue, hips jumping up to ride his face.

He's told you he'd die a happy man if you crushed him. You think that might be the truth.

His fingers are long and thick -- a little calloused, but none the less gentle as they press against your neck, as they slip into your needy pussy. He works you open like it's his job, effortlessly finding that spongy place inside of you that makes you gasp out for him, makes you clutch at his inky black hair as he leans in to give you an experimental lick.

You love his tongue. Devilish thing he is, he'll eat you out for his own pleasure -- until you're clawing at him, tugging the sheets off of the corners, leaving a trail of wetness on his fingers. He has this way of sucking and fucking you so divinely that you forget your name -- suddenly, the only one you can think of is his.

"Aki..." You'd whine. Quietly, still, but getting a little louder while you crept closer and closer to your peak.

"Quiet, Baby," He would hush you, adjusting your legs over his shoulders while he devoured you. "Don't want anybody to hear you, hmm?"

He'll eat you out until you're begging for more, pleading for him.

And then, if you've been good, he'll give it to you -- all of him, everything he has to offer. He'll pound you so far into the mattress that the next morning, when you get up to eat breakfast with him and his roommates, you can do nothing but avoid eye contact at all costs, limping into the kitchen and sitting down slowly (lest you hurt your tender back, the one he'd blown out).

"Rough night?" Denji had asked you once, munching on a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

You swallowed thickly, nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the way you were glancing between him and Aki, whose back was turned to the three of you while he finished cooking.

You scooped some eggs onto your plate, taking a bit onto your fork and shoveling it into your mouth (to give you an excuse to not reply).

But you'd be found out soon enough.

"Sure sounded like it," Power added, tilting her head at you. "Were you injured?"

Aki choked, but disguised it with a cough.

You quirked your brow. "No, why?"

Denji looked up at that, pausing to swallow before he gave his two cents. "You sure?" He asked (teasingly). "We could hear you crying out from down the hall."

You choked on your egg. Aki turned the stove off, whipping his head around to promptly whack Denji on the back of his head with the spoon he had just been stirring up eggs with.

a/n: hiiii! just a quick little drabble. i've been on a csm craze for the last week! (aki's been getting me through the week long period of grief that follows a brutal midterm week). feel free to request some more (reqs say closed but ill do it for my king aki....) who knows! if u guys like it enough (and maybe beg real nicely) i mightttt do another part (or publish this 45 page aki smut i've been sitting on lololosdjfkg). comment and reblog ur thoughts!! i love reading them.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: idk the cover pic artist. If you know them, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

wanna join the csm taglist?

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim would, and I believe this with all my heart, be a Pokémon geek

And not the *pushes glasses up* “um actually this Pokémon is better then this Pokémon bc a mix of cp plus type advantage” 🤓 (nothing wrong with this type my twin is this type)

but the “I have my Pokémon storage box halfway full with phantump bc the idea of transferring them genuinely distresses me”

he is carefully picking out names for every single one of his Pokémon

he won’t let them get low on health

these are his babies, so of course he is delighted by the play time features some of the games have

“I can cook them all this delicious curry!”

One his brothers once transferred one of his Pokémon as a joke and he started crying when he found out

he has to be analytical all the time, he has to think with his head before his heart, so if he is relaxing I think he should be just full of heart and love

Idk much about Pokémon, but I'm crying at this idea. Imma transfer it to something I can understand:

Tim relishes being able to care for game characters/creatures. He enjoys feeding them, buying them clothes/treats/furniture, and overall just doing tasks for these fictional beings. He gives them names and personalities (such as liking certain foods/music/colors).

Although he'll never admit it to himself, he enjoys looking after the physical and emotional needs of these completely fictional characters. The reason for this is his parents' emotional neglect as well as having to care for Bruce throughout his teen years.

With these fictional game characters, there's no pressure or real-life consequences to his actions. He can treasure them without anxiety. He can shower them in the attention he didn't receive and provide for them without worrying that fucking up will lead to Gotham's destruction.

Just Tim, under the covers of his blanket late at night, being lit up by the game screen. His silent and almost desperate adoration of the plethora of fictional beings

[touyaz]

love shot

pairing shidou ryuusei x fem reader

word count 1.7k

notes the dialogue in this is the focal point & i was experimenting with it a lot, so shidou does say really . weird things. he's a lil hot + nasty like that <3 if you dont like it sorry u have no taste ♥️🙏

WARNINGS oral (f rec), masturbation (m), fingering, lots of petnames (wife, babygirl, and some other weird ones), reader has body hair. calls reader's pussy 'she' but otherwise no pronouns.

MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

"ain't this the dream?" shidou murmurs, kneading your hips mindlessly. his head is buried in the crook of your neck, lips peppering kisses wherever they can. "bagged a cute, lil wife all for myself."

"stop it," you protest, leaning your head towards his so he has no space to press on. "we can do this later."

a displeased whine escapes him, and he tilts his head to dot kisses along your shoulder instead. "fuck that," he groans, and one hand comes up to tug the neckline of your shirt away. his mouth is hot against you, a little meaner than earlier with how he nips at your skin. he sweetens the blow with a fleeting kiss, only to repeat it all in the next second. "want your attention on me now."

"and i want to finish making dinner, but i guess—" you yelp when he bites the juncture between your neck and shoulder, dropping the knife in your hand so you can bat at his hands. "sei!"

"my bad," he snickers, his smirk searing itself into your flesh. "what'cha cookin', sweetcheeks?"

"curry," you snap, holding on to the edge of the counter when he doesn't budge. you bow your head, and as much as you want to finish making dinner, it's getting harder to focus on what you need to do next when shidou licks up the slant of your neck, nibbling on that soft spot behind your ear. "but it's all gonna— gonna burn if you keep this up."

"that's fine," he drawls, voice low like the rumble of a jet lifting off with the promise of taking you to new highs. "i'm in the mood for somethin' else, anyway."

there's no question about what he means when his hand snakes down your front, cupping where you're warm, wanting.

"bet you're pretty hungry for me yourself, huh?" he grins, rubbing over your sex firmly despite the layers. you can't deny it has you a little desperate, melting like butter in the hot pot next to you. it's always been too easy for him to get you like this, to have you craving whatever it is that he wants to do to you. "gonna let me take care of that for you?"

"you can do what you want later," you try again, one final attempt to win this battle, but shidou's never been one to share first place when it comes to competitions.

"or, i can turn this shit off," he starts, and he takes it upon himself to ruin everything you've done, turning the knob on the stove, so the fire dies out. "and you can hop onto the counter and let me dig into that sweet cunt of yours. sounds a lot better my way, yeah?"

there's no point in moaning about your half-cooked meal when he drags you away and helps you sit up on a cleaner surface.

"you're making dinner tonight after this," you tell him.

"yeah, yeah, whatever." he's more focussed on getting you out of your clothes, dragging your underwear down, too, and kicking the pile away when you're finally half-naked for him.

"and washing up."

"babydoll, i'll do whatever you fuckin' want, long as you spread your legs for me."

his words have you biting your cheek, and in a last ditch effort to defy him, you don't part your legs like he wants you to.

you also don't stop him from pushing them apart himself.

"not so mouthy now, are you?" he snickers, staring down at you. you can't hold his gaze and it makes him laugh louder. but then he leans in to kiss your cheek softly and the contrast has you clinging onto the edge of the counter, gulping. "you're so fuckin' cute," he murmurs, biting the fat of your cheek teasingly. "it's alright, baby, your cunt's doin' all the talkin' for you, dripping all over the kitchen. this your secret ingredient? cookin' up a love shot for me tonight?"

"shut up," you admonish, squeezing your eyes shut as if that'll help drown out his words. "that's so gross."

"fuck yeah, it is." he grins, canines bared and ready to feast. he finally sinks to his knees, and his voice sounds far away but no less overwhelming. "wouldn't mind you doing it for real. wouldn't ever wanna eat anything without it, though." he drags your legs over his shoulders easily. he wastes no time in getting his mouth on you, licking a long stripe up your slit and groaning at the taste. "oh, fuck yeah, this is it. been starving for your pussy juice all fuckin' day."

"don't— don't say that." you pull on his hair, taking your embarrassment out on him, but the moan he belts out doesn't sound the slightest bit pained.

"eh, why not?" he sucks your clit into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it lightly enough to make you jerk in his hold. he lets go with a wet smack of his lips, waiting patiently for you to look at him. when he notes the haze in your eyes, the dew on your lashes and the crease in your brows, he grins. "don't wanna hear how I've been thinking about your angel cunt all day? jacked off so many fuckin' times as well—"

"shut up—" you cry, yanking his hair, but he only rolls his eyes back shamelessly.

"fuck yeah, sexy." he drags you to the edge of the counter and back onto his eager mouth. his tongue is hot, wet, everywhere all at once. "pull it harder," he goads. "make it hurt."

narrowly, you watch as one hand disappears below, followed by the sounds of clothes ruffling as he loosens his trousers. "gonna make me nut all over the fucking floor."

he slurps noisily, messily, but it's not enough to mask the grunts and wet clicks that track each stroke of his length. his arm is a blur to you as he pumps himself, and your fingers flex around his pink-tipped strands in an attempt to ground yourself to something that isn't the lewd slide of his tongue into your sopping hole. his free hand joins in now, and it's your eyes rolling back this time, whimpers trickling out you as he starts circling your clit.

you barely understand when he starts mumbling into your pussy, "how about i'll cook ya dinner and you clean up my cum, how's that sound? off my dick and off the floor— so fuckin' dirty, bet you'd do it, though, eh?" he isn't looking for an answer, continues flicking his tongue and pinching your swollen bud and fucking his own fist to your whines. "soaking my face so much, yeah, you would do it, wouldn't ya? you've been like this all day? been waitin' for me to come home and eat you out? put up a fight earlier for what?" he slaps your clit lightly, but it's enough to have you bucking up, gasping. "yeah, that's it. been wanting this sloppy cunt on my face all day."

another hit lets you hear just how soaked you are from all his spit and drool, from your own arousal. "listen to that, she's been missing me, huh? sweet thing's been pent-up and leaking for me all day, haven't ya?" he kisses your clit and all along your slit, unabashedly wetting his lips with your arousal. "i'm here, babygirl, gonna take care of ya, gonna give you everything you're dripping for."

he uses his entire hand to spread your arousal around. he drags the mess from your slit upwards, soaking the hairs on your pelvis and drying off on your thighs only to push his fingers into your aching hole and follow the slick trail with his tongue instead.

"you ready to cum, baby?" through half-lidded eyes you can make out the way he looks up at you, eyes dark but sparking wickedly. "gonna give me all your honey-sweet love juice?"

you shake your head, gritting your teeth and hating every word that leaves him. you hate how it has you leaking onto his tongue, the coil inside of you winding tight.

he sinks his teeth along your thighs, curls his fingers in your pussy, and screws his hand around his dick. it's too much. he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks; he slips a third finger in and crooks it just right—

"don't leave me hangin' now, sugarcunt," he calls out. "let me get a taste of ya, i'm so fuckin' hungry. thought you were gonna feed me, huh?"

—and you cum with a drawn-out cry of his name, and he drags your high out until it hurts for him to give you any more.

"there she goes, give me all that sweet angel nut, baby."

your head spins, body heavy yet weightless.

over the sounds of your stilted breaths, you hear him growling, wet schlicks following as he brings himself to his own release. "oh, fuck yeah, this is it— gonna bust a— all over. should've cum in your little cunt— do it, next— gonna cum— gonna fuckin'—" his body tenses up and you watch as his cum spurts out, staining your cupboards.

he'll definitely be cleaning that up himself.

"that's the good shit," he sighs, slowing down his strokes. "feels so much better blowin' my load after eating your cum first. might have to bottle you up," he laughs tiredly. he slumps over, resting his head on your knee, and you push back the sweaty strands that cling to his forehead.

"what's—" you pant, taking a deep breath in. his chest heaves, but he doesn't look half as affected as you; if anything, he looks ready to go for another round or two, already dotting kisses back up your thigh. "what the hell's honey love juice?"

"all this good shit." he beams, easily sinking two fingers into your pussy. when he pulls them back out, he shows off the creamy strands of your arousal proudly. "and it's honey-sweet love juice. not a fan?"

"god, no," you grumble, staring at the webs that hang between his fingers.

you grimace as he slips his fingers into his mouth, speaking around them, "tastes sweet as honey, though." your face scrunches up with distaste and he continues, "how about sugar squirt, then? or creamy sex slick? or droolin'—"

[syrupfog]

Zoro has always had a nose for alcohol. It’s how he’s always able to find it whenever the cook finds new hiding spots— 

Used to. Used to find new hiding spots. He’s not their cook anymore. 

But he’s got a nose like a bloodhound for alcohol, which is how he ended up here, at what looks like an abandoned shrine to a god he doesn’t believe in, on the outskirts of Wano. 

It’s easy enough to dig up a floorboard and find a veritable treasure trove of sealed bottles filled with purple liquid. Saké of some kind, surely.

If it’s good enough for some god, it’s good enough for him. The nap he takes after the first bottle, though, is… vivid. 

The cook is there. Why is the cook there? Fuck him. But Zoro watches as he paces. He’s in some ridiculous getup with a cape.

And suddenly, in the way dreams often go, they’re in the Sunny. And Zoro is watching the cook embrace HIMSELF. Another Zoro. He’s got him in a death grip so strong Zoro himself can almost feel it, watching as he is from a distance.

But then the Zoro he’s watching us pushing Sanji off of him, and drawing his swords, and yelling something about betrayal and disloyalty, and Zoro sure does agree with THAT. 

He watches as Sanji steps back, hands up, placating, and that Zoro growls and lunges at him.

When Zoro wakes up, he vows to forget about Sanji and move on. He’s gone, and no useless dream is going to bring him back. 

He lives his day as a ronin as is the plan, but returns to his secret stash of saké at night. It’s good, free and plentiful.

And the next night his dream is just as vivid. 

It’s the Merry this time. The Sanji in his dream has his hair parted the old way, and there’s a young Zoro with both his eyes, still. Zoro growls in disgust. Again with the cook? 

It’s night in the dream and they’re on the deck,

Sanji’s got a hand laid gently over young Zoro’s, and with the other he’s pointing out a school of glowing fish. Zoro has a vague memory of the real moment, but not of the hand over his. 

Then Sanji leans over and KISSES young Zoro, which— okay. So this is one of THOSE dreams.

The ones full of longing that Zoro’s worked to squash. 

But he watches his younger self kiss back, and get everything Zoro never got. He’s bitter, looking at them. 

And then young Zoro is pushing him off, and yelling. That he’s a liar and a traitor and royalty playing at pirates.

Zoro’s really not sure about where that last part is coming from. But he watches the horror wash across Sanji’s face and something inside of him twinges a little. He hears a whispered “I didn’t want this,” but it’s covered by the sharp sound of swords drawn, and then nothing.

Zoro doesn’t return for the saké for two more nights. He has no dreams. 

When he returns, sips, and sleeps, he finds himself in the Baratie. 

He really doesn’t remember much of the place, so the details of it now surprise him. The whole crew is there, even Brook, all except Sanji

When he appears, from the back, he looks haggard. Exhausted. Sopping wet. He’s wearing a waiter’s uniform, and has none of the bravado Zoro remembers from the Baratie. 

“Your favorites?” He asks, sounding almost hopeful. “Sea king curry? Mikans? Cotton candy?”

He’s met with silence, everyone stopping what they’re doing. Luffy breaks it. “Why would we want anything YOU make?” He asks. “A failure like you doesn’t even deserve to serve the future pirate king.” 

Zoro, watching from his table in the back, sees the way Sanji breaks.

He shrinks in on himself. “Please,” he says. “I’ll do better.” 

“You couldn’t even keep them safe,” says a voice Zoro recognizes as his own, sitting among them. “You left Luffy to starve.” 

“N-no,” Sanji trembles. “Please, I couldn’t— I had to keep everyone safe—“

Zoro can’t listen to any more of this. He stands, chair scraping the floor loudly. 

Sanji’s eyes snap to him. Not the him at the table, but HIM. 

As the dream fades out, Zoro finds himself glued in place under the weight of that shocked stare.

He thinks there might be something wrong with the saké. 

But, after one night without it, his curiosity gets the best of him. 

The dream is in a castle, imposing stone walls and dark lighting. Sanji is there, in front of a mirror, his face covered in purple and green bruises.

He’s playing with gold cuffs around his wrists. 

Zoro steps up, out of the shadows, and Sanji sees him in the mirror. His eyes are red and swollen. 

“Mosshead,” he breathes. His breath hitches and he swipes at his face with the heel of his palm. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything. He’s used to another Zoro being here for this part. 

“I know you won’t forgive me,” Sanji says. “If— when I come back. I know even in my dreams it’s too late. But I need you to know I loved you.” 

“Loved?” Zoro questions.

“Love,” Sanji chokes out. “Love. Fuck. Always will, at this rate. Just— When I see you again, when we meet in Wano— please don’t pretend you forgive me when you don’t. I can’t— it feels like every dream I have you love me before you hate me and I can’t take that again. Please don’t even give me hope. I know this was unforgivable.” 

“Why’d you do it, then?” Zoro asks. This is a dream and can offer no real answers, but he still craves them. 

Sanji sobs, both hands on his face now. The bracelets rattle. “They said they had Zeff,” he says.

“They— you weren’t at Zou! They could’ve easily destroyed everyone there and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it! I just— I wasn’t supposed to live this long. I wasn’t supposed to live this WELL. I can’t keep being selfish.” 

Zoro scoffs. “Shut up,” he says, and Sanji flinches.

“Just fucking get back here or whatever. I don’t care about your excuses anymore. I’ll be waiting.” 

He turns to leave, and as he does, a pink haired girl with curly eyebrows runs into the room and says something about Luffy. Fucking weird dream.

Zoro wakes up, and he doesn’t drink the saké again. 

When he sees Sanji, it feels like it’s been a lifetime. The kimono he’s wearing is bright and his smile mirrors it. 

Then Sanji turns and catches sight of Zoro and his smile dims. 

Zoro feels angry all over again.

What was WITH all those fucking dreams? 

He ignores him as long as he can, until they’re together on the edge of a forest and Sanji’s sleeves roll up just enough that Zoro catches sight of two red rings, fading into brown, around his wrists. 

How… 

“Cook,” Zoro says.

Sanji looks to him. He looks almost… scared. “What, dumbass?” 

Zoro thinks about the cape with the silly outfit and the cuffs. He pauses. “Do you have a— sister? Pink hair?” 

Sanji looks BEWILDERED. “…yes?” He asks. “Is— has she been here?” 

Not physically, Zoro thinks.

Zoro takes a moment to recontextualize every dream he’s had since getting to Wano. 

“Cook,” he says. Slower. 

Sanji grits his teeth. “What,” he says. “Whatever you want to say, just spit it out.” 

Zoro’s not sure what he wants to say. He wants to say many things.

Things like “I don’t forgive you for leaving” and “you betrayed us” and “you betrayed ME”. But also now things like “what were those first two dreams? The ones with us?” And “did you stop having those dreams after I stopped” and “was it worth it” and “did you want to come home”

What he settles on is, “Is it all finished?” 

And maybe that was the worst possible question in the most vague way, but Sanji takes a moment and then nods, the motion a little jerk-y. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m— it’s finished.” 

“Good,” Zoro says. He steps up to him and Sanji flinches

Somehow, more than anything else, THAT is what convinces Zoro that the dreams were shared. That they were Sanji from the beginning. 

He ignores the flinch. He grabs Sanji’s wrist, avoiding the fading bruise, and squeezes to the edge of too tight. 

“You were a fucking idiot.”

Sanji goes to draw back but Zoro tugs him closer. “You were a fucking idiot and I did hate you for it. But I. Don’t.” 

Sanji freezes. He stares at the grass between them. 

“Don’t leave again,” Zoro says. “I don’t hate you. Don’t leave again.”

There’s tears on Sanji’s face that Zoro won’t mention. “Okay,” he says. “Shitty swordsman. Don’t get full of yourself.” 

But he leans forward. Hesitantly. Like a child waiting to be reprimanded. And when Zoro doesn’t, Sanji’s head lands on his shoulder.a

And Zoro doesn’t mention the tear tracks on his kimono or the way Sanji shakes apart in front of him. 

And Sanji doesn’t mention that Zoro doesn’t let go of his wrist. 

And maybe it’s a reoccurring problem, that neither of them mention things often enough. 

But today—

Today and tonight, it works in their favor. 

And when all this is over, no one else mentions is when they hold hands over the railing of the Sunny and watch the glowing fish pass by.

[ladybyakuya]

| BLIND + IZUMO HARUICHI.

+cw. — izumo haruichi x f!reader, coworker to lovers, oblivious pinning, flirting, confession, description of panic attack, claustrophobia & coping mechanisms, forced proximity, fluff, angst, character study, smut ( kissing ).

+wc. —3.1k ( shocker )

+syn.— last summer Izumo Haruichi came under your radar but this summer he has managed to get under your skin.

+notes. — part of ‘HELP WANTED’ mini server collab hosted by @interstellar-inn | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — @dear-koi @qichun @violet-turning-violet

The refectory of the office is oozing with ruckus this afternoon. It is not unusual but today it is just unbearable. The compartment plate in front of you is still filled with rice, curry, and salad as when you started eating your lunch. The line for the food is still alive; people are gossiping, taking food onto their plates, gossiping, taking spoons and forks, chopsticks— the sound of utensils clanking against each other one after another or sometimes all at once in sync is bugging you today. Your ears should be used to it by now after working for two years straight but it seems like a bother today. It is awfully loud in here. Everything is, even the heat.

Among this hustle and bustle, the only sound that bothers you the most is someone’s voice. It is faint to catch on from where you are sitting but the voice keeps coming to you in bits and pieces, like ebb and flow. Sometimes it is there and sometimes it is not. Sometimes your ears pick up on it but sometimes not and when it does not, your heart waits for it, even searches for the sound to reappear. And the heat is just making it worse. You can practically feel the beads of perspiration cascading through your cleavage as you search, waiting for the voice to turn up again. The air conditioner is on though, and the fans are working perfectly fine but with this kind of crowd, and heat in the dining place is at par with some blast furnaces.

“Well, I can take you there sometimes if you want,” Izumo states as one of the new interns, sitting diagonally to him, places a dumpling from her plate to his. Aoi Kaguragi, Izumo Haruichi, Reno Ichikawa, and Iharu Furuhasi are sitting at one table but Izumo is the most disconnected from them. 

“No. No. Haruichi-san, it’s fine. I can manage.” The girl sitting beside him pleads. A group of four girls who joined as new interns have occupied the table beside them. There is just a slit of partition between the two tables. Most tables are for a group of four people, but cubicle tables are cluttered together to make the team bigger, and better to establish a good workplace culture to some extent. 

Izumo expresses his thanks with a sun-kissed smile to the girl who just gave a dumpling to him, without asking. You make eye contact with him for a second but it's awkward. Aoi's nose shrinks. It acts as a distraction from Izumo’s azure gaze. Aoi stuffs his mouth with the dumpling Izumo just received out of disgust earning an alarming glare from Reno. Izumo does not even bat an eye to it. But the girl protests, “Hey. . .” Aoi glups it before saying, “he hates dumplings.” Iharu is busy eating his lunch. This guy . . . he woke up early, made breakfast for himself, got so busy and immersed with cooking that he forgot to eat. So, he is eating quietly. Reno keeps telling him to slow down but who is he? His dad?

“Well, wouldn't it be easier if you could get some directions and details?” The girl looks confused so Izumo divulges. “I live around there. So, yeah I could get you in touch with some agents if you want,” The girl looks at him with so much hope as if she has a chance to ask for the moon. 

“Oh my God. Really? Thank you so much Haruichi-san,” she chimes

Oh Fuck! Here it comes. Aoi, Reno, and Iharu share a look as you get up. The clank of your spoon was a little too loud to be ignored. Okonogi asks, “You didn’t even eat today too. Are you okay? Do you wanna leave soon today? I can finish your work if you want . . . ” 

“No. Kono-chan. It’s alright. I don’t feel hungry. I will eat when I feel hungry,”

“Yeah, gallons of coffee and tons of cakes,” Kikoru prompts without missing a beat. Your shoulders sink at her statement. She is not lying but gallons? Tons? That’s surely an exaggeration. You take your plate and as you walk past his table he gets up. Please let him not run into you. . . please god, please.

“Going to share the rest with your boyfriend?” He grabs a bottle from its designated section. You watch him walk, pick a bottle, and then come back but he halts in front of you blocking your way. Of course. Why didn’t you expect that? You should have taken a different route. 

“So what if I’m?” you squint your eyes at him since his Adam’s apple shift. Now, that’s different, unlike other days. Your eyebrows jump. Teasing each other is as easy as breathing for you and him. So, you just give in to this golden opportunity. “Your flirt game is so bad, no wonder you’re still single, Haruichi-san,” you snicker emphasizing ‘Haruichi-san’ since you have already been granted the authority to call him by his name but sometimes it is just amusing how he hates it when you do not use it; even if he specifically said that you can call him Izu-kun or simply Izumo. He just wanted to get included in your league of people; the people who you have given a nickname. It's almost like adopting a puppy.

Izumo rolls his tongue inside, along his bottom lip too quickly to pinpoint his frustration. He is pouting now. His hand proceeds to his nape scraping his hair for a moment in the hope of seeking some respite from this heat. Why does he even keep his hair long? Why not just cut it? Or put it in a bun. Your eyes go to the bunch of interns who are eagerly watching you two as if you are big stage actors. “My flirt game isn’t bad, . . . he trails off and then sighs. His hand swings back in his pocket as clarifies, “It’s just that . . . the person I like is a fucking idiot. That’s why I’m still single.”

You scan the group of interns at his valor display of vulgarity. Girls must find it hot, don’t they? That’s why he does it, isn't it? Good for him! He has an audience now. You bet they are practically swooning. Aoi’s face is a sight to behold. Iharu has given up. Even Reno has his head tipped down while holding the bridge of his nose. He is not someone who loses patience easily except Kafka Hibino, his mentor and co-worker.

“What a loverboy.” You opined to him before your gaze switched back to the girl who was trying all the ways to get his number. Yeah, it was very obvious especially since she was practically rubbing herself on him since the day she joined. How do people do that? Get hooked onto someone like the twinkle of a star. That too in this heat. It is hard enough to keep coherent behavior, thoughts, and habits intact but now you have another problem, Izumo Haruichi. He is being spectacularly annoying today. 

You look at the girl before saying anything. You will probably be doing her a favor. 

“don’t waste your time on him, he is going to break your heart, girl.” 

The spoon from her hands falls on the dish splashing a little bit of soup on her dress. People have already started to look at this table by now. 

“You’re just jealous,” the girl sneers back.

You part your lips forming an apology at the tip of your tongue but you realize the damage you have done. She hurriedly tries to clean herself with a napkin to avoid eye contact. 

You should not pick on people’s emotions like that, however small, however meek it may seem to you, it's a lot for them. What’s with you today? This is not like you. This is more like  . . . Haruichi. He has this habit. Maybe it's starting to rub off on you simply because he is now working with your team on this upcoming project.

Izumo has always been like this. Flirting with girls, leading them on, giving them hope, and then, breaking their hearts. Does he realize that? The hurt he leaves in his wake? He is like a swan in a lake leisurely swimming in the evening that attracts ducks, influencing them to be like the swan, elegant and beautiful when there is a surge of fresh batches of interns; every year. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it backfires.

His flirting is not limited to just girls. That’s how he became such close friends with Aoi. But then again, it is not exactly flirting. Could it be he is unaware of how he carries himself? Nah! That’s too much of giving him the benefit of the doubt or maybe has managed to charm a part of you. Yeah! That would happen in any case. He picks up on people’s emotions really quickly and does not hesitate to call them out. It’s a nasty habit. 

That is how much you know about him, as a co-worker. Outside this office, he is a total stranger to you. So, you do not have to look out for him, worry about being among the swarm of ducks, he might turn into one, or fearing if there hides a hawk among them.

“That’s too much talking for an intern,” Iharu remarks, taking his plate and standing up.

“I agree.” Reno nods his head. “Wait, what?” He is not surprised by Iharu’s statement but rather his wit. Before the situation gets elongated you try to put an end in your way but whether the bow will pierce the heart or the head you gamble on that.

“Yes. maybe you’re right. That was so rude of me. But you see,” you bow your head a little to match her eye level since her eyes are on her plate. “ I don’t go for committed boys.”

Izumo’s face is aghast. What did you just say? He is not committed. He is single. Excuse you, did you not hear him a while ago? 

Izumo looks at Aoi, clearly uncomfortable and frightened by your burst of bubbling behavior. That was odd of you. He has never seen you this annoyed. He has always been like this with you, teasing and flirting around you with other people. Maybe the heat is going in your head today. You walk towards the dustbin to empty your plate before keeping it on a designated table. Everyone watches you as Izumo follows you like a kicked puppy searching for his owner. It’s pathetic.

He is not pathetic . You are just dumb. How can you not get it? How can you not see it? His feelings for you? Well, not that he exactly laid his heart out in front of you but isn’t it obvious? Everybody on his team is aware of it. Everybody on your team is aware of it. Are you really that dumb? Or do you just choose to ignore his feelings? If it is the latter then he is done for. Perhaps, the fear of abandonment and rejection compels him to create backups while at the same time, it gives him a refuge to hide his feelings; keep them protected, warm, and soft; so that he can still talk to you, still be around you, breathe the same air as you.

After all, who would look for a leaf in a forest?

“Fancy a candy?” Izumo chimes as he leans against the door frame of the archive room while you slide the access card to open the door.

“No thank you.” You tartly reply with a poker face. God, he followed you here, which means he is gonna yap for as long as he is here and God forbid he better not talk about what just happened in the dining hall. 

Izumo mumbles to himself, stepping into the room, “Guess I’ll have it then,” with a pout.

“Did the storage closet door lock behind us?” you ask as the bang of the metal door sends jolts throughout your body.

“I think so,” Izumo walks towards the door to check. He hopes that you are not playing any prank or something but then again, who would like to be stuck in the archive room? Especially in summer when the air conditioner is out of service and the fans have been hopeless since last spring. Izumo hears a loud thud. As he turns he finds you curled up in a fetal position on the floor struggling to breathe.

“Oh no no no no” you blabber feeling the dread and anxiety piling on top of your body. It is getting heavier. Seeing you like that, Izumo forgets what to do. At first, his feet move slowly though, then he quickens his pace but finally skids towards you since his calf muscles betray him.

“Breath. Look at me.” His voice is so faint or maybe you are already sinking in the depth of the attack. You know what to do. The tactic to overcome this. But with people around it gets harder. Most people do not know what to do and even if they did they are only aware of the ‘321’ rule since it is easier to remember, faster to execute, and the default suggestion before the medic arrives. Right. Medic. You can call, right? You touch your hips for your cellphone feeling only your skin and clothes. Your phone is at your work desk. Fuck. Your only hope is this guy, Izumo Haruichi.

“That’s not. . . it. you inhale barely but manage to say the next set of words in one breath. 

“That 321 rule doesn’t work on me.”

Immediately, your chest starts to feel heavy. Your head feels heavy. Your breathing is labored.

“Yes, I know. I know.” Izumo assures. His voice is so still, so even that it gathers all scattered pieces on him finally. “54321 it is.” He adds. He tries to make you sit but you are so stiff under the influence of fear that even with his strength he is in no luck. Moreover, he does not want you to treat him as a threat rather than a cane to grab on.

“Identify 5 things you can see,” 

Your eyes roam everywhere, to the farthest point it can see things. It has already started to itch and water. You blink rashly before mumbling. “Files—you inhale a long breath. “cabinets, AC, tables, chairs” 

“Next. 4 things you can touch” 

“The wall,” you say and touch it. You can finally sit up now, leg sprawled on the hot floor. Next, you touch your i-card. “My ID card.” Then your hair clip. “my hair clip,” unfastening it from your hair letting your hair fall onto your shoulders; it's a turquoise one today, and finally his ID card. You grab it in your hand and watch closely, flipping it too to glance at the other side . What an awful picture of Izumo .

“Your ID card.” 

Izumo holds you by the arms. His touch feels cold against yours. The full-sleeve dress is the only barrier between his skin and yours. Your palms clamp around his upper wrists. 

“Okay, 3 things you can hear:” 

“A.C.” 

“Fans.”

“Your voice,”

Izumo nods every time but it becomes slow at your third pick. 

“2 things you can smell.” It sinks in him: how in desperation and hunger you seek whatever you can get.

You take your scented handkerchief out of your pocket. Izumo takes it and holds it against your nose. Your exhaustive eyes look at him. His perfume smells rather too sweet today. You fall into his chest, embracing him. “Your perfume,” You whisper nuzzling against him. He is still sitting with his legs folded. You can hear his heartbeat, yours too. You are alive. You are very much alive.

“1 thing you can taste,” He says in a low voice, like the start of a lullaby. Reluctantly you pull your face away and look up. At this angle you can see his tongue, it’s white due to the candy. Could it be lichi flavored? There is still a bit of it left, peeking against his teeth.

Curiosity cascades into your body like rain and soaks him wet in a fraction of a second. It is an entirely foreign sensation for Izumo: Your lips are plush and soft with no hint of lipstick. The way your fingers press into his chest is unforgiving to his taut muscles creating a sense of pain, but a different kind of pain; the good kind. You are desperate and forceful. Your lips taste like spicy and honey. What did you have for lunch today? 

WAIT. You break the kiss. Izumo is as stunned as you are. His azure is asking why did you stop? You are still holding on to him. How did he know that the ‘321’ rule does not work on you? Moreover, how did he know that you have claustrophobia in the first place? 

Ah! Now it makes sense.

The realization paints your mind like it's high on drugs. Before you can think twice, your hands trail up to his nape enveloping his face. He instantly pulls you into his lap folding his legs one over the other to make you comfortable. He is swift and strong. This time, he is the one to demand first. The candy must have melted by now. It was coconut-flavored. You do not remember swallowing it neither does he but only the feeling of your lips on his, his on yours. He pulls away from the kiss gasping for air. His mouth and nose are cherry-tinted. He is getting an earful from Aoi for sure.

“I have texted Aoi.” His hands recoil back into his pocket from under your shirt. “He will be here soon.”

Izumo looks at the ground. Is it awkward? Yeah! Definitely. Does he want this to get over with? NO!NEVER. Damn him for wanting you. Damn him for craving you even at desperation like this.

You give him a long hum. “Why do you look like a crumpled receipt? It’s not like I will break your heart once we are out of the room, Izumo.” You place a kiss on his cheek. “Still have to thank you for saving my life.” 

You get out of his lap. He blinks hopelessly. Yeah, his suffering isn’t going to end . You still are as dense as a cabbage and so defenseless, so tactless, by god it drives him nuts. “I love you,” Izumo mumbles to himself. Aoi opens the door as you look at Izumo. 

“What did you just say?” Both of you walk side by side as you two walk out of the room. Aoi is still holding the door.

“Nothing” You continue to scrutinize him with your eyes.  “I said, I hate you.”

You smile. “Yeah! I hate you too.” 

Poor Aoi is still holding the door witnessing the cheesiest corny confession ever.

—

network: @underratedcharactercorner

[harunayuuka2060]

Vil: I find it unexpected that you had chosen to be closed for the entirety of the previous weekend, Azul.

Azul: We went on a short vacation.

Vil: With MC, I supposed?

Azul: Yes. It was quite a lot of fun. *chuckles*

Vil: And you didn't even think of inviting me.

Azul: I'm awfully aware that you have a busy schedule. I couldn't possibly bother you, however, I would surely invite you next time.

Vil: *sigh* Anyway, I came here to borrow MC. Are they here at the moment?

Azul: I'm afraid they wouldn't be working today.

Vil: Why? A day-off after a weekend vacation?

Azul: They are exhausted after they had an intense pole-dancing competition with Floyd and Jade's father.

Vil: ...

Vil: What?

MC: We're doing an exotic dance. Not an extinct dance. Why the actual fuck you look like you're being grilled on a skewer?

Leech's dad: What? This is sexiness! Tell 'em, ma!

Leech's mom: *just smiling* No comment, dear. But you're doing great.

Azul: *recording the whole situation and is trying not to laugh like Jade and Floyd who's been wheezing for an hour*

Cheka: MC! MC! Let's go to Unca!

MC: *cuddling him* I'm exhausted. You go there yourself.

Cheka: *whines* But I want you to see Unca~!

MC: I know his face. I don't have to see him.

Cheka: *pouts*

Ruggie: Boss, it's rare to see you this tired.

MC: *yawns* Yeah. Not used to travelling under water.

Ruggie: I figured. By the way, boss? Can I borrow some money from you again? I'll give it back as soon as I can.

MC: When did I ask you to pay, Ruggie?

Ruggie: Shyeheehee! Right. Thanks, boss.

Ruggie: I'll do your groceries.

MC: Okay. *uses Cheka as a chin rest*

Cheka: Are you going to sleep?

MC: Yes... Shush...

Deuce: I wonder if boss is inside.

Ace: We didn't see them at Mostro Lounge.

Jamil: However, wouldn't it be rude to visit them without prior notice?

Floyd: Nah~. They don't really care.

Kalim: That's great! 'Cause we badly need their help.

Floyd: *kicks the door open*

Ace, Deuce, Jamil, and Kalim: !!!

Jamil: Don't you know how to knock?!

Floyd: Knock-knock~. There.

Jamil: ...

Ace: Let's just go inside.

Deuce: Boss... Are you sleeping right now?

MC: My eyes are closed but I'm listening.

Cheka: Multi-tasking!

Ace: Okay... Well, we have a problem in the Basketball Club.

Kalim: And Pop Music Club!

MC: Uh-huh. And what are those problems that deserve half of my attention?

Floyd: We need a basketball coach~.

MC: You can do that one, Floyd.

Floyd: *scoots to their side* But that's a boring job~.

MC: And what about the Pop Music Club?

Jamil: They're going to get disbanded if they fail to find new members to join their club.

Kalim: Please, MC! Can you take part in our concert?!

MC: What d'you wanna me do? Sing?

Kalim: Yes!

MC: *opens their eyes and looks straight at him* What if I have an awful voice?

Floyd: They have a beautiful voice. I've heard it once.

MC: Tch. You're not helping, Floyd.

Deuce: I want to hear boss sing!

Ace: Geez. Your fanboy energy, Deuce.

Jamil: I know it's not much, but I can offer my services to you.

MC: *raises an eyebrow*

MC: ...

MC: You cook curry?

Jamil: ...

Jamil: *smiles* Yes.

MC: We have a deal.

Floyd: Hehe~. You're so cheap.

MC: There's no cheap with good food.

Cheka: Unca can cook curry!

MC: No, he can't.

Ace: Why is he suddenly mentioning Leona-senpai here?

MC: He's trying to pair me with his Unca. *yawns*

Cheka: *pouts* But you and Unca would fit together.

Floyd: Just give up. My dad got a kick in the face and when he tried to set them up with a friend.

MC: Yeah. Just like Floyd said.

Cheka: ...

Cheka: Are you going to kick me in the face? *puppy eyes*

MC: Yes. But you're a kid so you're exempted.

Cheka: Hehe~.

Ace: Wow.

[aurawrawr]

I adore you too much to hate you now

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna x afab! brown reader

This short fic is written mostly in second person PoV. Character has a name but it's not heavily used. I'm about to ferally self-insert into the following work.

The fic is set in a feudal time period so there are themes of prostitution and non-con/dub-con included.

Minors, DNI. Word count: 2.9k.

CW: themes of bloodshed, prostitution, scars, little bit of non-con/dub-con, description of smut, oral sex (f! receiving), voyeurism, auralism, submission, worship, PIV, Sukuna's true form (no smut with true form); Uraume is an Oiran (with they/them pronouns) [no, I won't explain it]

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who fucks a different working woman of the household every night because none of them satisfies him enough for a double take. Concubines visit his palace in rotations. Some never make their way out.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who despises the cooks in his household — why is the rice never soft, curry too salty, fish not salted enough, soba soggy, desserts always dry? He has killed many a cook, replaced them with new ones, only to be disappointed in a different way.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who does not care who is hired in the kitchens, in the lawns, to clean, to wash his clothes, to keep it all running, but turns the house upside down if anything in his chambers is out of place.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who switches between his real form and human form depending on who he's with. Only Uraume has ever seen his true form, the Oiran who trains and dresses the girls before sending them to Sukuna's bed.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who takes one bite of a non-Japanese cuisine and his eyes blow wide in wonderment. He demands to see the cook immediately.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who looks at you once, drinks in all your amber glory with his lustful gaze, before asking, "What's for dessert?" You still haven't learned to speak or understand Nihongo so you must rely on Uraume-hime to talk on your behalf. All you know is to keep your sight fixed on the Lord's feet. Puny, filthy humans must never lock eyes with Sukuna-sama. Nobody told you so but you came to that conclusion yourself by the way the Oiran kept pushing your head down while in the Lord's chambers.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who groans, shifts in his seat when Uraume-hime tells him something in Nihongo. Before you know it, your hands are being pulled by two other women. You are laid on your back, the hem of your robe pushed up to your hips. You pull your thighs tight together, whispering words of resistance in your tongue, words unintelligible to the Lord.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who is intrigued by your foreignness. In his thick, all-knowing voice, he asks you something from between your legs. In his language, but you've been asked this before several times so you know the answer. "Anata no namaê wa?" He asks. You still can't see his face.

And you answer, Aparajita. The name of a beautiful blue flower laid at your God's feet as an offering. Literal meaning, unconquered. Your mother had given you the name, in hopes that you won't end up on the same path as herself. That you will escape the brothels of Bengal and find your own place in the world. Her dreams had come quite true, you had escaped. Only to then find yourself at the mercy of a creature you didn't quite understand.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who plays with your name on his tongue while his fingers play on your clit. Your hips have to be held down by Uraume-hime because of how much he's making you shiver with the most minimal touches. You've grown up in a bordello, even spent a night in a Japanese bathhouse before finding this job in Sukuna-sama's kitchen, but never have you heard of the woman being on the receiving end of pleasure.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who holds lengthy discussions with Uraume-hime while three of his fingers are knuckle-deep inside you. You have a palm over your mouth to keep you from gasping out but it's promptly removed by one of the women. When you look at her, she has nothing to say, only knotted eyebrows and a gaze filled with guilt. You know this will probably happen again, maybe you will be the one holding someone down, and you'll have the same guilt on your face.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who delights in the sound of you, pauses all conversations and trains his ears to your honeydew voice. When he places his mouth on your flesh, the pleasure tears you apart. Needy moans leak from your lips while he laps at you, taking his fill of dessert.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who wants you in his chambers every night now. And he wants you to understand what he's saying without Uraume translating and gesturing. It wastes a lot of time. Time he'd rather spend burying his cock down your pretty, mauve pussy. So he gets you a tutor. You are to spend your days learning Nihongo — initially spoken language only — and cooking for Sukuna-sama, and nights in his bed, face down, ass up, crying as loud as you can because that's what gets him off. Your voice.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who doesn't realize how long it has been since he's seen a different woman. You satiate him, more than enough.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who doesn't realize that he's slowly starting to wonder if he's enough for you. He watches you all day from the landing of his first floor quarters as you do your duties in the yard. Your dedication to learning a new language just for his sake is mesmerizing. How your delicate fingers wrap around the stem of the brush as you learn to draw the alphabet. The way your lips move as you repeat the tutor's words. When you sit down to cook for him, your leadership invigorates him. You assign jobs to others, teach the new hires how to mix spices, dice vegetables, stoke the coal until it's burning bright. He curses under his breath when the fire iron lands on the side of your feet, scalding your skin, making you hiss out in pain.

You laugh it off when someone brings you a mug of water, the sound of your joy enchanting to Sukuna-sama. He decides the fate of that coal poker. You're busy wrapping a piece of cloth around your wound when, out of nowhere, the iron rod catches on crimson hot fire. It scares your colleagues but you know exactly whose work that is.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who heals your wound when you're lying in his bed, freshly fucked, your back facing him since you're still not allowed to look at him. You've tried to leave wordlessly several nights but his strong arms have held you back, whispering a stern yet somehow soft "Tomaru." So you leave in the mornings and he watches with sleepy eyes as you drape your saree around yourself, clean and fix his bedchamber before leaving. He is a tiger when he fucks — he'd lay you down on any flat surface, take as long as he wants. The only criteria is he should be able to hear you. It's only collateral that the room would be in absolute disarray, left for you to fix lest Sukuna-sama's wrath befalls the entire household.

You sit up, alarmed, when you feel his hand on your feet. In your culture, only a child touches a woman's feet. Definitely not the Lord of the house, and definitely not the man whose bed you sleep in every night. He may not be human anymore, but he is your King, he is who you submit to. In a way, Sukuna-sama is your God and you are the flower at his feet.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who doesn't know that all his efforts and adjustments are being duly noted and silently appreciated. You wanted to wear sarees and ghagras instead of the furisode so Uraume-hime allowed it, even going to the extent of bringing in a tailor for you; you knew it was not their decision to make. When he noticed the dryness of your hands, of your back, he ordered for butter and cream to be made in abundance so the women of the household can use them for cosmetic purposes. The only woman he cared to have softer skin was you. When a beggar invaded your kitchen, he brought his trident to the doorway only to find them with a plate full of food, relinquishing their appetite. He may be a King, but you are his Goddess of peace, surfeit, pleasure, warmth — everything, everything nice.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who wants to know the color of your eyes — see for himself, not hear from Uraume how black your pupils are, it's like you absorb all the light of the world and reflect nothing back. It's not subtle that the Oiran despises you but Sukuna-sama knows they won't let a finger on you without his permission.

It's not like you've never looked at him. When he paces the yard in his crimson and black robe, sometimes in his white and blue robe, you're taken aback by his form, his posture, his powerful gait. The thick black lines on his face and wrists have always made you curious. The extra pair of eyes add a layer of smugness to his persona. One night, when he is tossing and turning in his sleep, you find yourself driven by urges you can't describe, to look at him. You give in. His broad back is marred by scars — slashes, burns, puncture wounds galore. And that forms more questions in your mind. If he can heal you, why doesn't he heal himself?

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who has always fucked you from behind, been satisfied with your voice guiding him to your peaks and lows. But tonight, he wants to see your face contort with pleasure when he settles his thick cock inside you. All his conviction flies out the window when he looks at you, helpless, shaking, not knowing where to look because nobody prepared you for this. He loses control, hungrily kissing your lips — something he has never done before — leaving marks on your jaw and neck. When he grabs your tits, and sinks his teeth on your fat, you cry out. You didn't know having the Lord feed on you would drive you so crazy, it would coax something unthinkable out of your mouth. Moans and gasps go eat grass, Sukuna-sama didn't know being called his name by his lovely, honey-skinned lover could send him deeper into his void of lust. And not just any name. Not even Sukuna-sama. You whisper, Ryo-sama. Ryo-sama. Like you've been thinking about this ever since he first touched you. Like you've been saying this name behind your sealed lips all these nights. He hasn't been called Ryo for years, never by anybody other than his human mother.

You've done it now. This is as far as you go, as far as your mother's ambitious naming could push you. When he pulls out of you and makes you sit up, all you know to do is bow to him, forehead touching the floor between the two of you. "Sumimasen. Sumimasen. Sumimasen, Sukuna-sama." You keep whispering in your awkward yet earnest accent.

He shifts on his knees, awkward for the first time ever in his immortality. "Look at me."

You keep your eyes trained to the ground, shaking your head.

"Look at me, Paro." His voice is surprisingly mild, like he's only amused. Paro is his name for you, chosen at first for convenience during moments of passion, but soon it became a name of ownership, nobody else could call you Paro, and now... it's something else.

"Is this a test, my Lord?" You're scared. You've been scared of him before. This is not something new.

"Look at me."

"You can make me look at you whenever you want, my Lord."

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who has never apologized to anyone, never pleaded. He never needed to, he is the King. He is so powerful, his blood boiling with cursed magic, he can take several lives with a flick of his wrist, instill fear in the common man just by revealing his true form. Here he is, sitting in front of a woman who cooks for him, keeps his household tidy, his cock warm. You have him wrapped around your pinky; you could poison his food, castrate him when he's hard, stab him once he's asleep with you in his arms. But you don't. You've either lost hope in life or your heart to him. He hopes it's the latter.

"P-please." He says under his breath. "Please look at me, Paro."

Your eyes shoot up in disbelief. The Lord pleading with you? Begging you? If Uraume-hime hears of it, they'd make sure you don't live to see another day. But, you don't care. Right now, you're swimming in the blood sea of your Ryo-sama's eyes. What a crime it is to have kept this vision from you! You don't want to look at anything else ever again. But your heart is feeble. You're afraid if you stare, you will end up offending him. So you try to look away but he catches your face in his grasp, squeezing your chin, tilting it up. He breathes on your face, on your mouth. "Is there anything in your heart for me?"

You nod. Not because you're scared of the consequences of telling him otherwise, not because you have nowhere else to go, but because it's true.

"You adore me?"

You nod again.

"Look at me, Paro. I don't want to have to tell you that again." You meet his eyes. "This is not my true form. I conceal it so as to not scare you."

"You scare me enough already, my Lord."

Sukuna laughs. After months of being in each other's company, you finally feel the tension easing. "I don't have a heart, Paro, but there's a warmth in me, somewhere, for you too. Maybe it is love."

"Maybe only lust."

"I've lived long enough to know the difference."

You avert your gaze and bow to him again. "Sumimasen, Sukuna-sama. I shouldn't have questioned you." You touch his feet like your mother had taught you to do with elders and idols of Gods and Goddesses. He is both to you. You're not sure where he learnt it from but every time you have done this before, he has placed a hand on your head, as if to bless you. This time, he takes your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who wants to trust you with his true form. He wants to tell you how he came to be cursed with that body, what he had done to deserve immortality, an eternity of wealth, monstrous glory and fame but also peerless, loveless, cold torture. He wants you by his side, not for a brief era of his limbo, but forever. Yet, he's sure you wouldn't want that kind of power. Your strength is in your altruism. To ask you to be by his side for centuries, maybe even millenia, will be to burden you, to keep you from ten where angels like you belong.

"Do you want me to see your true form, my Lord?" You read his mind.

"Would you like to see the real me? Aren't you afraid? I'm sure you've heard Uraume talk about it."

You toy with the answer in your head for some time. You are afraid. But you know he is probably more scared. So you ask, "Are you afraid I'll be repulsed, my Lord?"

He doesn't answer. You know him more than he wants to admit.

"I adore you too much to hate you now, my Lord." You confess. In a bold stunt, you raise yourself on your knees and put your hands around his neck. You can feel your shoulders tense in fear. But when his arms engulf you, you relax a little. You place your lips near his, desperate for his touch and he gives it to you. He kisses you fervently, smooches after smooches, tongues over each other, his strong hands kneading your skin because he needs your skin.

You gasp when it happens. It's not slow. It starts with the loving pads of his fingers being replaced by sharp nails. He holds your head tightly to his as he changes, denying you a glance until he's fully transformed. Your legs detach from the floor when he picks you up, hooking your feet behind his waist. You feel yourself rising against gravity, your thighs being pulled apart to capacity around his abdomen. All is still well, until you feel two more hands on you, something rough on your face, and something wet and slimy against your belly.

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna who has never been ashamed, intimidated, now looking at you, wondering what you think of the villain who stands in front of you, asking you to love him regardless of how vile he is. You... you still want him, that's all there is to it. You look at his four muscular arms, the ghastly mask covering half of his face, the tongue sticking out of his abdomen, and most surprisingly, his two penises, and you still want him. All you're thinking of is how you can pleasure this him. He kneels in front of you, an act of submission, and he's still as tall as you are standing. You finally understand why only his bedroom has such a high roof.

You take his face in your hands, both the softer, a little human side and the rough, grotesque side, and you declare, "Ryo-sama, I will start a religion in your name, carve an idol akin to your true form, and tell people of your ire and also your sincerity. If you let me."

please don't copy my work, or publish it elsewhere without my consent. all banners are from pinterest.

I felt like cooking so there is a second part. Go, read that too.

[peachesfather]

Can you mizu with a healer fem reader thats in lonfon and very jealous of taigen?? I want it very fluffy but also smutty if ur ok with it :) please and thank uu

thanks for this request !!

Doing way too much

mizu x black fem! reader blue eye samurai

warning:+18, smut, fluffy, fingering, bad grammar, suggestive language, and jealous mizu is a way to put it.

I was the best healer in my store in London, i get a lots of praise from how good i am at healing people's wounds, the pay was very good for me and my mother who were very poor.

I swept the floor with a broom while listening to some jams on the radio, i signed and humed to the music, i heard the door open and paid it no mind at all i just continued to clean. i was abrupt by someone in front of me with their eyes being blue as the ocean but had a no emotion face along with someone else with them but he staring at my potions.

"what do you need?" i looked at his tall figure and waited for a response but no reply so i put my hand on their shoulder to tell them to reply for their request.

He snatched my hand from their shoulder and squezzed it very hard, i hissed and told them to stop.

"I just need to be heal thats fucking it, and also need resources for my travel" she let go of me and i basically rolled my eyes at her behavior. "You couldve just said that and not squeezed my fingers." i said while still being angry at this customer. (bby got issues wrong bitch tho)

"okay, sit in this chair please sir" he gave the other man who came along with him a sword and came my way to sit down in the chair. The guy who was holding the sword was looking me up and down while bitting his lips. i ignored him and shown eye contact towards the blue eyed man in front of me.

"Where does it hurt?" He pointed to where their gut is so meaning to where the injury is there. I closed my eyes to see if the energy of the wound could be healed, water has appeared on the gut to clean throughout and he hiss in the healing process, i patch him up. "you're finally done, that would be $50" he put the money in my hand and stared at me for few seconds and then snatched the sword from the other guy, "i be outside Taigen, grabbed the other resources for our travel" she put her glasses back on her face and left my store, the other grabbed the stuff he was told to buy.

"is that all?' he just stared at my face and told him again "IS THAT ALL SIR YOU STARING UP THE STORM" his eyes widned and laughed at my outburst. “You’re so cute what’s your name?” He said while staring behind the counter at my ass.

“Okay, I give you my name, it’s y/n.” I blushed and facepalm at how cringe of how I falling for this bullshit, I noticed a couple glances from the window outside the store, it was the guy who I healed he looked angry and pissed must be because of this fella right here, I think he’s talking himself or flirting idk what bro is still here for.

“The cost is $100, do you have it?” He paused and stopped talking about whatever mess he was going on about, he smiled and started to look in his pockets for his money or changes.

Me, being the nicest person that I’m going to be and letting this nigga off with his resources to getting out of my store, I told him he doesn’t need to pay for it under one condition is telling him and his friend to come over to my place for a meal.

He quickly agreed and said “yes, now we can get to know each other in a better way” he rubbing his fingers together while licking his lips I was disgusted but happy at the same time because he was leaving my store, I gave the guy outside a wink. He scoffed and looked away instantly. (I need her so badly don’t play to get pookie)

When the clock hits 5 pm, I was already done cooking curry chicken and rice for my guests, I clean the table and put the table cloth on to be proper.

I heard a knock on my door I was guessing it was them, taigen was smiling like he had done a whole crime while being very sketchy, he was nicely dressed with his hair down. However, for the mysterious man he was still in his old clothes doesn’t make him unattractive but he could’ve done something to spark his appearance. His eyes on the other has drew more attention.

He catches my glances and looked away in annoyance. I signed and ask his name because i wanted to get know him better. He looked me in the eye and said “my name is Mizu”

That’s a cute name awee” I said that brought me and him in awkward silence until taigen grabbed my chin to rizz me up or whatever saying “ma, you look good tonight in them jeans and showing your figure very nicely.

I kinda blushed at him complimenting my body, his way of words were blinding from getting to know mizu. Taigen gave mizu no emotion face that became a snickering expression towards him to letting know that he trying to get to have me. Mizu smirked and smiled at him for being too foolish.

We was eating the curry chicken and rice at the table, taigen was tearing my food up and said It is good and wanted seconds. I gotten up just to give him more.

Mizu was looking me up and down from knee from how my jeans looked on me, she squeezed her thighs and looked at taigen who was staring back at her already.

“Aye, stop looking at her she is going to be mine, bitches like her cannot resist me.” Taigen said while crossing his hands by giggling at how easy you are. However, Mizu was disgusted of how he talking about you , even though she barely knows anything about me to care.

I came back to table so happy about someone being grateful about my cooking. Taigen grabbed the plate from me and said thank you. Mizu was staring into my soul, I was confused but I sat down and looked at taigen finishing his second plate of curry chicken.

“Y/n, yo if I was your man bro I wouldn’t never disrespect how bad of cook you is” he said while staring at mizu then laughed at how fucked mizu looked.

“You wanna be my man? Well, you must want to take good care of me” I said while lovey dovey staring at him

“I take care of that ass of yours real good” he said while chewing. Mizu started to shake the table and ask to go where to bathroom. I told him that it is upstairs I got up and walked himself to the bathroom.

She stops mid way, it made me confused until she grabbed me and push closed the door in the bathroom.

“What the heck mizu” I was pushed against the wall and was held by my hands from mizu who showing no emotion to the situation of having me like this.

“You want to stay quiet or what, I know you want me all this time you fucking brat” she stare at my face who was resisting her touch.

“I need you so badly please..” you said while bringing your hands to her hands to guide her to you hips, she grabbed a chunk of your ass and lean in to kiss your lips that had lipstick onto them.

“You don’t know how much I have done to get to fuck you like this” she said holding onto me while locking eyes with me I stare back with her with a nervously smile.

She slip her hand in my jeans while standing up with spreading me out with her fingers, I grasp and moans “. fuckkk..mm mizu your fingers” I was literally dripping mess under her. Me and her touched heads while she fingered me at a quick pace while she laughing at me.

I screamed in my hand while she thrust her fingers in out of me out one last time. I wrap my hands around her neck to give her lips a peck, she snickered and kiss me back. We sat in comfortable silence till leaving the bathroom together.

Okay, this was very bad you guys can diss this onee !!

[itsbackwoodsbby]

Locker Room Sex

Stephen Curry x Black Fem Reader

A/N: I wrote this for my pleasure. I AM TWENTY, so there is an age difference. I am sorry if you don't like the age gap, but I still am obsessed with this FINE ASS man so don't judge me, judge ya mammy.

Warning: Age Gap! Dirty Talk! Cheating! Swearing! Unprotected Sex!

Summary: You were messaging Steph Curry for a while and then eventually he ghosts you. You were desperately in need to talk to him. For reasons. For answers, on what exactly is going on. You sneak in the Golden State locker room and you definitely get more than answers.

You greeted and told the guys goodbye and goodnight as they left the locker room. He was the only one left in the locker room taking a shower. He turned the shower off and came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. You look at his body. He was very toned for a 35 year old. You bite your lips and start imagining him with the towel dropped.

“Uh… can I help you?” He asks you kind of sternly. You look at him nervously. “Uh yeah. May I get an interview?” He looks at you, “You’re not an actual interviewer.” Reading right through your bullshit. “I’ve heard of ABC, ESPN, and Ballislife. Never have I heard of Big Balls Entertainment.” He reads your fake ass badge your best friend made you.

You swallow hard and you try to come up with a new lie, but you can't. Honestly, you only here to talk to Stephen Curry and possibly even fuck him. But you obviously know the plan is blown, so you walk out. He grabs your arm.

“You know fans can’t be back here either. You can go to jail.” He tells you. You sigh. “I just wanted to see you. You stopped replying to my messages.” He looks at you, “Wait, you’re the girl that I was snapping.” You bite your lips and shake your head before you look down. “And when you stopped texting me, I had to find a way to see you and talk to you.” He starts examining your body as you are talking. “Aye my eyes are up here.” You say sternly. He chuckles, “My bad.” He clears his throat. “Look. I have a wife. I have three kids. I can’t be doing this with you.” You look at him and nod you head. “You’re right. I’m so sorry.” You say as you get up to leave the locker room.

You don’t know why you thought your plan was going to work. You two are 15 years apart. He has a family. You just want him back though. You guys were only talking and sending nudes through Snapchat. It shouldn’t have got this deep as in you sneaking into the Golden State locker room.

A voice comes back to the locker room. It’s Klay. Steph and you run to the shower room and you hide in there as Steph puts on some clean boxers and goes back into the locker room. You listen to their conversation until Klay says he has to go home to see his doggie son, Rocco. He leaves and it’s just you and Steph. You were about to leave and he grabs your arm again.

“Nah. Wait a minute. You can’t leave yet.” He says. You look at him confused, “Maybe we can hook up one time.” He says before caressing your body. “You just said you don’t want to be caught up with me.” You say biting your lip as he squeezes your boobs.

Steph wanted you now. It’s only because he remembered his wife was going for two weeks for a cooking show. The kids were with his parents. So you could be his little cum eater while his wife was away. It wasn’t like Ayesha would care. He can just dispose of you when he got done.

You strip down and go inside the shower room taking your clothes with you. You wanted shower sex and he wanted the same. He smiles at your naked body before you disappear and follows you. He takes his boxers off and pushes you down on your knees.

“You said if you were to see me, you’d suck it.” He smirks. “Do it.”

You start with his tip and slowly lower down an inch. His dick is really big and thick. It’s kind of hard to swallow. You’re a big girl though, so you push through. Eventually you’re damn near eating his dick up.

“My balls need love too.” He says and pushes your head down. You bite your lip before you start sucking on his balls. He smiles and groans even more. You smile knowing you're doing a good job. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You go back to sucking and stroking his dick with one hand and massaging his balls with the other and he rolls his eyes in the back of his head. “Fuck, you’re a good at giving head.” He says. “Young ass eater.” He chuckles.

He starts fucking your throat. You start gagging at how rough he is getting with you, but it only motivates him to be rougher with your throat. He hits the back of your throat once and he starts nutting in your throat. You swallow it all. Eventually, he pulls out to see if you did. You smile and stick out your tongue. He smiles.

“Good girl.” He says. You stand up and he admires your wet body. He sucks on your neck and lowers to your nipples. He starts rubbing your clit and he smiles. “You want me to return the favor now or later.” You bite your lips, “Later. I need that dick.” You say.

He picks you up and slides you down his dick. You gasp and hang your mouth open, moaning a sweet note in his ear. He starts thrusting in and out of you. He proceeds to go faster and choke you a bit.

“You take this dick so good, baby girl.” He says groaning in your ear. “And your pussy is so fucking wet.” You whimper. “Ooh shit. You’re so deep. You’re so deep.” He smirks and goes harder. Your legs begin to shake. You’re on the verge of climax already. “Steph. Chill. I’m going to cum.” He chuckles, “Nah. Take it.” He says and goes harder. You try to grip the wall. “Mm, fuck daddy.”

He turns the shower off and heads back to the bench. The steam from the water was making it kind of hard to see. He lays you down with his dick still inside you. He pulls out and starts eating your creamy pussy. You start moaning and gripping the edges. His head game was vicious, it almost made you cum. Then he rams his dick back in roughly. You scream out. He chokes you.

“Chill the fuck out. You can’t be too loud, ma,” He says. You bite your lips. He begins to pound your shit in. “Ooh. Ooh Steph! I told you to chill. I’m going to cum.” He smacks your boobs and goes deeper. “Nah. Say my name.” He groans. “Oh daddy.” You say low. “Loud ma.” He says. “Fuck! Daddy! I’m coming.” You say louder. He chuckles and starts back pounding you. You let out a long moan before creaming his dick up. He looks down, “Yeah. That’s right. Paint this dick.” You cover your face as he starts going deeper. You try to push him away but he just pins your hands above your head.

Suddenly, he starts going faster and faster then you feel his warm liquid fill inside you. He groans in your ear as he does it. He pulls out and watches you leak out both of your juices. He looks down at you as you look at him. The two of you laugh at each other. You sigh and get up.

“Now, I got to shower.” You say and run to the shower. He joins you and you two just shower. You two get dressed and walk out to the parking garage together. He kisses you and rubs all over your body. He practically didn’t want to let go of you. You very slowly break the kiss and giggle. “Chill.” You smile. “You should come with me tonight.” He says. You think about it. You don’t mind but you would rather lay in your own bed tonight. “Nah. I’m going home. Maybe if you need me again, I can stay over.” He smiles, “Ight, lil ma.” You blush and get in your car and he gets in his. He honks his horn as a goodbye and you go to your house.

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake | Things You Didn't Notice #3 | Learning Korean with the boys

I have (barely) emotionally recovered after the ending of this series, and so I'm back with my usual translation notices and cultural specialties posts ^^ Long post ahead!

// Read previous posts with translations & comments I pointed out //

This time I'll look at the Episode 3 [Yeowoon's Affection level from 0 to -99]. Disclaimer: I'm not fluent in Korean but I've been learning it for years and I've lived and studied in Korea for a while. However, in particular Sangwon and Sia annoyed me so much this episode because their banter is so funny but I cannot decipher their wordplay 100% by ear without KR subs so I have to skip over their dialogues %)

Anyway, there's still some fun language stuff to point out!

- "You're late, Senior (hyung)" - "Senior? (Sunbae?)"

Fun fact: Sangwon, who's the same year as Yeowoon, addresses Myungha as "hyung". Meanwhile Yeowoon addresses Myungha only as "sunbae". Hyung is a term guys call their older male friends (if you're familiar with Thai BLs as well, it's same as "Pi"), meanwhile gender-neutral sunbae means senior, someone who's been longer than you in the industry or some institution (like school).

If I remember correctly, Yeowoon keeps calling Myungha 'sunbae/senior' until the very end of the show. Even when they are sleeping over in the same house after school hours, Yeowoon doesn't call Myungha hyung but sunbae only. In Korea, you use titles or formal full names to people older than you or acquaintances, and you usually use names with the people younger than you. That's why, if you think about it, there wasn't a moment in show when Yeowoon says Myungha's name :D Only sunbae. And that's normal. (this is also why Myungha never mentions Writer sunbae's name at all)

Also, we'll return to Myungha's usage of Yeowoon's name a bit later.

"Keep doing it if you want to die young, Sangwon-ah." "*gasp* You call me by my name when you're mad?"

But Sangwon is talking to Myungha in a very familiar way, using 'hyung' instead of 'senior' every time, making it feel like they are friends (and most of their interaction this episode revolves around Sangwon trying to make Myungha talk to him like a close friend as well xD).

Why is Sangwon so thrilled every time Myungha calls him by his name? Because there are many other Korean words you can use for people, especially if you're angry with them (ranging from the impolite 'this guy' to swearwords). But every time Myungha gives a casual warning to Sangwon who's annoying him, he still says "Sangwon-ah", which is how you'd call your younger friend who's just being a brat. No wonder Sangwon keeps pushing Myungha to get his attention and affection^^

On the topic of names and intonation: I noticed Myungha uses aegyo (acting cute) often when he talks to his grandma. However, with other school students, like I mentioned in my previous language posts, most of the time his speech feels like a patronizing talk of a 29-y.o. adult.

But! I found that one scene when Myungha is deliberately using aegyo with Yeowoon! The reason for it is that Yeowoon finally responded and wanted to meet up after avoiding him for so long, and Myungha is extremely excited.

"Yeowoon-ie, you're waiting for hyung?~" "Don't use that voice".

Two things: Myungha calls himself Yeowoon's "hyung" which feels closer than "sunbae", he wanted to take the next step and make their communication less formal. And instead of saying friendly "Yeowoon-ah" like he always does, he changed the pronunciation of his name to "Yeowoon-ie" — which is, together with the playful intonation in his voice, is so. fucking. cute. However, Yeowoon instantly rejected his aegyo and Myungha returned to the way he always spoke x) RIP.

I already pointed it out briefly in another post but – Myungha cooked a curry rice for dinner with Yeowoon. It might not seem like anything, but I thought it was an amazing detail to show later in the series that even when Yeowoon almost forgotten about Myungha who disappeared, he kept bulk buying rice with curry (yellow packages) for his dinner.

"You act like you're my parent (guardian)." "Well, you're not wrong."

I thought that Myungha telling Yeowoon he's not wrong about him being his "parent" was a bit weird, and indeed, the word they are using here is 보호자 (bohoja), which is "guardian". It can be said about parents but also about anyone who's protecting something or someone as well. Which is exactly what Myungha is striving to do in this world and in this game. To protect and take care of Yeowoon.

"My mom split (ran away) but my dad said she died." "I wish I could split (run away)... I kept running around the field because I felt frustrated. But how could I run away?"

Here I'll need some help from native English speakers, which I'm not, can 'split' be used in this dialogue with the same connotation? Because in Korean, Myungha clearly says "My mom ran away", to which Yeowoon responds "I wish I could run away" and immediately remembering about the reason why he became a runner. And I just loved the accent the show made on this word, which got lost in Gaga subs.

"Don't slack off because you think no one sees." "Maintain your image (Do some mental training)"

This one is surely a mistranslation. The coach says "Do Image Training", in Korea and in some other Asian countries, as far as I encountered this term, this basically means "mental training", or "meditation" and has nothing to do with maintaining one's reputation.

Think "breathe in, breathe out and think how well you'll do and imagine yourself running that race before it starts".

Yeah, probably no one cared about that dialogue or scene anyway, but I hope you're still enjoying my hyperfixation on this show xD Anyway, it's been a long post and I'm done for Episode 3 — but as a bonus, let me share bonus with one of the Sangwoon x Sia scenes.

+

I tried hard to figure out the word that Sia uses when Myungha pleads her to get rid of Sangwoon, and the closest I could get was 분력 (the power of Buddha), but one thing for sure — following Myungha's begging, Sia cross-sprayed Sangwoon with perfume like holy water and ordered him like "Begone, demon!". Lmao :D

[archangeldyke-all]

i’m so excited for halloween. i love all things fall/october.

could you write an autumn fic? 🍂

more specifically— i feel like the reader would have to force sev to wear some kinda costume for halloween >:) how do you think sev x reader would dress up? how would they spend their night together? ly mootie! ♡

my city's in the middle of a heat wave and it's HUMID too, it's horrible-- so yes, let's think about fall for a while hehehehe

men and minors dni

there is no doubt in my mind that fall's her favorite season.

and i think halloween is probably her favorite holiday too.

she's not a festive person, so even though she loves fall, she doesn't really indulge herself in things like decorating or baking.

but you do.

sevika doesn't realize how much she loves fall until she meets you. because you treat fall like it's your birthday or something. sevika's shocked to see how much you incorporate her favorite season into your day to day life. and even more surprising, she's shocked to find that she kind of loves it.

as the leaves start to change, you start making her coffee pumpkin flavored, sometimes adding a bit of hazelnut and cinnamon too. she fucking loves it, it's the best coffee she's ever had.

your apartment always smells like pumpkin pie or autumn leaves or flannel-- various candles burning and filling your space with the cozy smells and a lovely warm glow when the days start to grow dark earlier.

you start cooking hearty, warm meals-- stews and chilis and soups and curries-- sevika fucking adores it. there's nothing like a freshly baked slice of bread scooping up some kind of meaty sauce.

and your baking. sevika's almost cries the first time you hand her a plate of freshly homemade triple chocolate chip cookies, with a tall glass of milk.

she adores watching you start to get cozier as the days grow colder. your home becomes slowly filled with fuzzy blankets, you string up some fairy lights to flick on in the dark afternoons, pumpkin decor starts to decorate your tables and shelves.

she loves watching you cuddle into a hoodie, or pull a scarf up over your nose when you're outside and it's chilly. she especially loves cuddling with you under a blanket on the couch.

sevika just can't say no to you. she hates it. (she loves it.)

this means she ends up carving jack-o-lanterns for the first time in her life with you at the big age of forty three. she's surprised to find that she loves it-- scooping the guts of the pumpkin out is so satisfying, and she's always loved stabbing things. (what she loves most of all is the way you arrange your jackolanterns right next to each other on your front stoop, a scarf strung around the two of them, just like when you share your scarf with her.)

this also means that she wears a halloween costume for the first time in nearly thirty five years just for you.

obviously, it has to be a matching costume. sevika will not humiliate herself unless it's to show the world that she's yours.

i'm thinking about the classic lesbian couple costumes: werewolf and vampire.

sevika tries to get away with being a vampire by just drawing two little dots of red lipstick on her neck. you go all out-- buying a werewolf mask and gloves. and on the night of, when you reveal your costumes to each other, you pout at sevika until she rolls her eyes and gives in-- putting on the vampire costume you bought at the same halloween store you got your mask in.

you go to a party at silco's house, the adults drinking while the kids binge on candy, spooky music blasting, vander trying to jumpscare every guest by the end of the night.

you only show up for an hour before you decide to head home, both of you overwhelmed by the party.

sevika tugs on your sleeve as you wander through the leaf-covered sidewalks toward home. "babe, look." she whispers.

she swipes her vampire-cape to the side and reveals one of her fanny packs on her hip-- stuffed to the brim with candy she's stolen from the kids.

you burst into laughter and smack her shoulder, before pulling a kitkat out of her bag and crunching into it.

when you get back home, you spend the rest of the night smoking a joint on the front porch together, snuffing it out when kids approach and ask for candy.

sevika's shocked when you reveal the box of full size bars you'd bought to pass out, and you just shrug. "it keeps me on the good side of all the neighbor kids for the rest of the year."

she knows this isn't the real reason you do it though, you're too much of a softie. the real reason is the giant smiles and excited laughs the kids give the pair of you when you pass them the giant chocolates.

at one point, a little boy dressed in a dinosaur costume approaches with his parents trailing behind him. he seem's shy-- scared to run up onto your porch-- but with a bit of encouragement from you and his parents, he finally climbs the steps.

when sevika hands the boy the candy bar--nearly the size of his head-- his entire expression changes, a huge, toothless grin taking over his face. "thanks scary ladies!" he shouts, before running back down the stairs to show his parents his bounty. sevika chuckles to herself about this for the rest of the night.

by eleven, most of the kids have gone home. you and sev turn in, blowing out the jackolanterns, leaving the box of chocolate out for any teenagers looking to make trouble, hoping that they'll take the bribe and keep from egging or tp-ing your house.

you get in your (matching flannel) pjs and crawl into bed, snuggling and lazily making out as coraline plays on the tv.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty

[crazylittlejester]

what do you think each member of the chain’s favorite food is? (Based on in-game foods that Wild can cook/the Links can cook?)

OOOOOH this is an interesting ask!! Thanks anon!!! I don’t really pay that much attention to foods in other games- So these are all (mostly) dishes from BOTW

Time: I think he’d seriously like the mushroom dishes Wild makes. I headcanon Time did not eat a whole lot of meat growing up, and like, he WILL eat it if he HAS to, but you really gotta convince him it’s worth it. So I think he’d like one of those mushroom dishes Wild makes. I’ll say either the mushroom soup or mushroom risotto

Warriors: oranges If someone else is cookin’ it, the less complex it is the better. Otherwise he’s standing over Wild’s shoulder staring the kid down, OR they’re cookin’ something together. I think he’d like the more simple meat things Wild cooks, like the ones that are quite literally just the meat. But if he can cook something for himself/with Wild I think he’d enjoy a heavier rice dish with meat or somethin’

Twilight: I don’t think this man gives a single fuck what you put down in front of him, he will eat it up every god damn time. We talk about how Wind could probably eat enough to feed a small family? Twi’s the same way, only he’s too embarrassed to ask for seconds so he just sits there. But he can and will eat pretty much anything, especially meats, in large quantities. Time definitely watched in absolute shock and horror as Twi wolfed (ha) down an entire steak in like a minute once. I also just think he’d love anything Wild cooks for him, but I’ll say his favorite would probably be similar to Warriors: One of Wild’s meat and rice dishes. Or something from Ordon, I’m not sure what foods are in Twilight princess- I haven’t gotten that far lmao🕺

Sky: That pumpkin soup from Skyloft. Wild’s tried so so hard to recreate it for him, and he’s come real close, but it’s not quite ever the same

Hyrule: I know in my heart he has a huge sweet tooth, and he’d LOVE Wild’s honey crepes, and the wildberry ones too! I dunno if he has any foods from his game, but I really think he’d love sweet treats and snacking on berries

Legend: Apple pie. Doesn’t matter who makes it, him, Wild, whoever. He’d kill a guy for some good apple pie any day of the week

Wild: He ain’t picky, whatever’s easiest for him in the moment is what he’ll eat. He does like pizza though

Four: He has the vibe to me of someone who doesn’t really eat full meals, but instead kinda eats small things constantly throughout the day. I think Wild would make him some veggie skewers and store them in his slate for Four when he’s hungry so he can then snack on em. And I know in my heart Four keeps a little bag of nuts on him that he snacks on too. He’ll eat meals with the others, but in significantly smaller portions because he eats so much during the day and he’s just not hungry

Wind: He’ll eat literally anything, but he really likes when Wild makes seafood dishes because it reminds him of home. I think he’d like the seafood curry or seafood fried rice, or the paella. He’s also a big snacker and Wild probably has a bunch of rice balls stored in his slate for him when he gets hungry

[echantedtoon]

Upper Moon Househusbands: Gyutaro

(This is inspired by @rottencoreflesh101's Househusband Upper Moon posts. (Warnings: Their blog does contain NSFW elements and themes that not everyone may like or be comfortable with AND is only for 18+ folks. Just a heads up. But this WILL STAY Sfw.) I did link to the post in question down below. This is probably not gonna be very long and it's from the perspective of a female reader.

Househusband Upper Moons Concept- @rottencoreflesh101

Demon Slayer- Koyoharu Gotouge

Original Post:

Gyutaro's route is more modern au type.)

@six-eyed-samurai

Chop. Chop. Chop.

Went the sounds of a knife. Clever lifted high over his head only to be repeatedly slammed down onto the chopping block. Meat slicing and blood running from the flesh. A clatter of the knife sounded throughout the kitchen as boney hands clamped onto the cut portion-

"This beef needs more basil."

A voice grumbled out annoyed and pouting he'd forgotten about such an important ingredient for meatloaf. He knew he should've just made katsu curry tonight but noooo. He wanted to try this new recipe he found online instead. He was already starting to regret it from all the mess around him. ..and on him. Crap. This apron was a gift too. With a hiss of annoyance and a grip that threatened to squish the beef in his hands, the man ultimately dropped the uncooked food back into the pan and turned to wipe off his hands.

"Fuck this. I'm making meatballs instead."

But first he might as well clean up some of this mess first. It annoyed him more than the failed attempts of 'meatloaf' both left on the countertops and in the trash. A sink full of dishes was in his line of sight as he turned to wash off his hands only making him give pause before hissing even more annoyed. This day couldn't be any worse could it? His annoyance distracted him from noticing the click of the doorknob but not the creaking of the door opening which he snapped around to wide eyed. Oh no-

"Honey, I'm home!" A woman's voice called out before footsteps approached followed by the closing sounds of a door. "Honey!...Gyutaro?"

More footfalls were hand-

"DON'T COME IN THE KITCHEN!!"

They stopped and there was a pause until they approached again moving towards him, his shouting only sealing his fate.

"Are you ok in there?"

"IM FINE!! I-I'M JUST-..MAKING DINNER!! GO RELAX!!"

Closer and closer footsteps. "Are you alright? You sound mad."

"IM PERFECTLY FINE!"

"Are you sure? Because you-"

He froze as your figure stepped into the doorway leading into the kitchen. Your smile dropping into a stare at what stood before you. The kitchen...WAS A MESS. The table and nearby countertops were piled up with what looked like mini burnt bricks, random dishes, and black crumbs from the black bricks except for the middle of the table where freshly cut raw beef was sat on top of a giant wooden cutting board. The sink was piled up with even more random dishes and next to it the oven was left wide open. The air held a mix of different spices, cooked beef, and burnt food. An iPad was propped up on a clean part of the country and it played some kind of cooking show episode. And in the middle of it all was your tall husband. He looked like he'd seen a ghost with how he was staring at you wide eyed and the apron over his body covered in stains and....were those scorch marks?? He stood frozen with his hands half way under the running water of the sink, lavender soap bar in one hand. You both just stood there staring at each other for a long moment.

"So..I see you've been making dinner," you settled on carefully stepping into the kitchen.

"Uuuuuhhh.." Was all he managed to get out as he watched you step into the kitchen and looking around stopping on the nearest burnt loaf of.. meat?

You rose a brow. "So what are you making?" 

...He finally frowned turning back around to finish washing off his hands. "I TRIED to make meatloaf."

"Meatloaf?" 

"A western recipe I found online. Tried making it but apparently none of it wanted to work!" You waited patiently for him to finish washing his hands before drying them on his long apron scowling. "Last time I try anything like this!"

"You must've been pretty busy today." You mumbled taking a look at the leftover uncooked meat. "We're you going to try again?"

A hand turned off the annoying talk of the iPad. "Nah. Figured I'd just make meatballs or something since I already know how to do...But I can't do anything with this mess."

"I'll help you clean up." His eyes turned back to you as you grabbed the nearby trashcan and was already moving some of the burnt remains back into the bag. 

"You don't have to-"

"I want to. It'll be faster if we both just cleaned up. I'll cook too. That way you can have a break."

He stared at you before sighing. "M' sorry."

"It's perfectly fine. It's the thought that counts. Besides you always did look cute being so domestic."

He choked on air as you chuckled.