#idk what to say other than this might not be the right blog for you

[suashii]

you're always talking about writing but never post new content. all you do is repost old stuff

ooh that sounded really bratty !

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.

about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.

“you could kill me if you wanted to.”

it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “

“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.

“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”

“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.

you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”

“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”

satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.

his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.

in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.

he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”

there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.

“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”

“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”

“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.

“i need you.”

“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”

“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.

usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.

those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.

“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”

but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”

your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[marlenesluv]

۵pairing: fem!albonsibling!ballerina x platonic f1 grid. slight readerxlandonorris

۵type: social media au

۵authors note: i’m super excited to continue this! i’m hoping it will be a little series :) also, the picture for the series has my main blog name but i’m too lazy to change it lolz.

۵warnings: slight language

۵summary: y/n albon and her partner seem to have a little fall out…how will her fans and friends react?

۵this is part 2! please read part 1 before this (it’s my work, just on my main blog)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, arthur_leclerc, and 838,103 others

y/n.albon: solo practice mornings 🩰

view comments…

user9: no ben…?

↳ user2: he’s been kinda absent as of lately…

lilymhe: you look like an angel

↳ y/n.albon: i love you more than i love alex

↳ alex_albon: excuse me??

user5: the bell jar? someone cooked here

user3: solo???

landonorris: i’ll just come to your studio and keep you company!

↳ y/n.albon: yeah, you can not do that. my ballet instructor would literally kick you out

↳ landonorris: oh😟

user8: anyone else notice that ben hasn’t liked any of y/n’s recent posts?

↳ user6: yeah, i noticed that too!

↳ user8: kinda suspicious since they usually always like and comment on each others posts…

………………..

bensinstgram

liked by destinyyy and 251,007 others

bens.insta: a day with my love 💓

view comments…

destinyyy: i love you💓

↳ bens.insta: i love you more💓

user4: wait a damn minute…..

user7: y/n and ben practiced everyday together since they were 16, and he stops to go on a date??

f1updatepage: oh boy, drama is upon us, folks

↳ user2: you got that right

user9: ben ditches y/n for his gf and lando said he would come over to keep her company? idk. i wish lando was a ballet dancer fr

↳ user1: LMAO SAME. he seems much more reliable

user0: this is some crazy shit right here

user7: so..are y/n and ben partners, orrrr?

↳ user8: they didn’t say they weren’t, but here ben is, posting his gf when he should be at the studio?

………………..

yourinstagram story

seen by landonorris, danielricciardo, and 789,024 others

…………………

twitter:

F1 Updates @f1updatepage • 5hr

Y/N Albon has recently posted her solo practices on social media, leaving fans speculating. Her ballet partner of 8 years, Ben, went on a date while she was practicing. Fans believe that Ben and Y/N might have stopped being partners since Bens girlfriend, Destiny, came into the picture. What do you think?

↳ Y/N FanPage @y/n4lifeee • 5hr

I think Y/N deserves a ballet partner who she can rely on😭 If Ben actually left because of his girlfriend, that’s not only rude to Y/N, but stupid. They are amazing together, but whatever. His call I guess.

↳ Ferrari Fans @ferrariclassics • 5hr

Ben is a piece of shit. That’s what I think😙

↳ Carlando Babe @carlandocontent • 4hr

We should just wait for Y/N or Ben to speak out about whether they are partners or not. Speculating does no harm, but it’s just a never ending circle of ‘what if’s’.

↳ Albon Siblings!!! @albonsibsupdates • 4hr

As much as I like Ben and Y/N as a duo for ballet, I don’t like when Y/N has to solo practice. She deserves the best, not some half-assed guy who’s too busy with his gf.

………………….

landosinstagram

liked by y/n.albon, charles_leclerc, and 389,240 others

tagged: y/n.albon, charles_leclerc

lando.jpg: grid party🍾

view comments…

user8: y/n is at party with the grid??

↳ user2: this is suchhh a slay

flupdates: this wasn’t on my bingo card but i’m living

y/n.albon: last night was sm fun

↳ landonorris: do you remember anything?

↳ y/n.albon: ummm.. next question

alex_albon: ive never seen my sister so shit faced

↳ lilymhe: i have

↳ y/n.albon: omg lily

↳ alex_albon: wdym, lily?

↳ lilymhe: uhhhhh jk

user4: lily exposing y/n time

user7: HELP😭 who’s pouring champagne in y/n’s mouth💀

↳ user6: looks like kika LMAOOO

user1: i love how close y/n is to the grid

………………

bensinstagram

liked by destinyyy and 190,377 others

bens.insta: hi, guys! a lot of stuff has been going around on the internet and i wanna set some things straight. first of all, yes, i have officially quit ballet. but it has nothing to do with y/n and all to do with the fact that i am just not as in love with the sport as i use to be.

secondly, please keep my girlfriends name out of your mouth if you are going to bad talk her. she’s done nothing wrong.

lastly, i really do wish y/n the best with ballet. she’s very talented and i know she’ll make it far. that being said, no, we don’t have any communication as of late. things have been said that we both regret. i hope you all understand.

*comments have been disabled on this post*

………………

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and 1,012,004 others

y/n.albon: i suppose it’s my turn to speak about this. ben posted last night about him quitting ballet, which is obviously a fact. it sucks that i’m loosing a partner i’ve been doing ballet with for 8 years, but that’s life. friendships were made, but new ones can be made. friendships were also torn down. it’s unfortunate, but the ball was not in my court. i regret not a word that i said to ben. ending these types of professional relationships sucks, but that’s what it was. professional.

view comments…

user3: QUEEN SPOKE FAX AND KEPT HER COMMENTS ONNNN👏

alex_albon: so glad you spoke your part. you’re an incredible sister. me and lily love you

↳ y/n.albon: aww, i love you both too

landonorris: sorry about ben. should i bring pizza or indian for when i come over?

↳ y/n.albon: indian pls!

↳ alex_albon: you’re going over to her house??

↳ alex_albon: why is no one answering my texts???

user7: i frankly don’t gaf about ben. i’m more invested in the fact that lando and y/n are hanging out without the grid

↳ user1: REAL. like, plsss i need content

charles_leclerc: you’re an amazing dancer, you’ll find another partner!

↳ y/n.albon: ty charles!!!

f1updates: “i regret not a word i said to ben” and ben said “things have been said that we both regret.” like ben, babe, that’s embarrassing for you

………………..

twitter:

F1 Updates @f1updatespage • 1hr

Quick update about Y/N Albon & Ben:

Both have made posts on the situation and announced Bens leaving in ballet. We wish Ben well.

Another side note that people have picked up on, is Landos comment on Y/N’s Instagram post. The comments insinuate that they are hanging out together without the grid in Y/N’s apartment.

Comments have been disabled on this Tweet in respect for privacy of Ben!

*comments have been disabled*

………………….

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[19burstraat]

ketterdam dashboard simulator 2 (electric boogaloo)

(first one here)

❌ urkerchfaveisproblematic follow

Who submitted Kaz Brekker. don't take the piss he's literally wanted every other Wednesday

🍃 squallertales follow

Wait what did Brekker do

🌊 boekcanaling

Girl what DIDN'T he do

🦁 dimelionsofficial follow

Ghezen's Day Piss Up starts TONIGHT at the Kaelish Prince! Come down before four bells and get ten kruge off your first drinks purchase and an extra spin on Makker's Wheel!

👤 dregsofficial

545.06.7.9

🦁 dimelionsofficial follow

HOW DID YOU GET PAST THE FUCKING VPN. FUCK YOU KAZ BREKKER. FUCK YOU SO MUCH. YOU DO THIS EVERY TIME. WE'RE NOT EVEN DOING ANYTHING TO YOU. WE'RE ALL JUST PEOPLE WITH JOBS. TRYING TO GET BY. MOST OF US NEVER EVEN SPOKE TO ROLLINS. THIS IS SO TWISTED. YOUR ACTUALLY WRONG IN THE HEAD. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. I ACTUALLY CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS ANYMORE. I'M SICK.

👤 dregsofficial

*you're

❓lidandstavessuggestions

#234: build mickey's dick smasher between east and west stave

🍷dregsconfessions

So I've been a dregs member for a long time (I'm in my 30s now) and back when I was a new grunt I was especially trolleyed at the Crow Club, and I ended up spilling like half my pint on the head of one of Haskell's feral little runners, yk one of the little kids?? I just kind of mopped him with my sleeve and said sorry and figured that it was the end of it... however it has occurred to me lately that it actually might have been Kaz. Honestly I never could tell the difference between all the kids, and I didn't look properly at him, but now I've been waking up in a cold sweat several times a week thinking about it. Is it time for me to retire from the gang life

#submisson #admin comment: lately all of these have just been ppl embarrassing themselves in front of kaz

🧇 stroopwafels

There's definitely blogs on here that are undercover advertising for the Dregs btw. I accuse that one that thirstposts abt Dirtyhands

🧤 dirtyhandsy follow

:( no I'm a Razorgull actually

🧇 stroopwafels

WHAT???????

🧤 dirtyhandsy follow

I have eyes :/

🧇 stroopwafels

You won't for much longer if your boss finds out omfg

🃏 makkerswheelies follow

you guys are cowards for not wanting to fuck Brekker. Out of my way ghezenboy I'm bout to get it

🃏 makkerswheelies follow

My wallet is Gone

💀 dregsundrained follow

Kaz Brekker isn't violent. Dirtyhands is. Get it right

🏵️ cillasfryup

Gonna rob a bank tomorrow and when the stadwatch come I'm gonna tell them it was my alter ego Countess Boochie Flagrante

🙏🏻 thumbofghezen follow

sooooo sick of seeing people say that the council of tides shouldn't have complete control over kerch shipping. they stop the island from sinking??? every day?? have some respect

⛲ sanktvladimirs

idk about you guys but I'd be popping the BIGGEST bottles if kerch started sinking

🏵️ cillasfryup

me and the girls when kerch starts sinking

🌊 boekcanaling

staff please let me reblog ads please please please please

💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow

guys you have 24 hours to unfollow sanktvladimirs not only are they impersonating and mocking real etherealki and real saints (they are NOT a member of the second army) they're a dregs member, and I bet they're a fucking ka/nej too

⛲ sanktvladimirs

@ dregsofficial

💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow

I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow

WHO SENT ME AN ANON ASK WITH MY ADDRESS

🍷dregsundrained

guys I was looking at the wiki contributions who the fuck added a jesper fahey page to the dregs wiki... from inside the stadhall???

🥳 pearlhandledrevolvers

you know what. don't even worry about it

liked by dregsofficial

🍃 squallertales follow

the wraith was only seventeen when she started hunting slavers???? she should have been at the club

#DON'T crawl out of the woodwork and say 'oh the crow club-' #the REAL CLUB. for FUN

🎨 dekappelfan follow

🎨 dekappelfan follow

it's so nice to know no one agrees on this

[muffinsin]

Hear me out…hear me out.. G!P donna x reader where Donna catches the (fem) touching themselves while holding a picture of her?

(Idk I’m touch deprived.)

Oh hell yeah! I’m pairing this one with another ask for Donna I’ve got🙌

Some more Donna appreciation on this blog? It’s more likely than you think! Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

She stalks the dark hallway, down, down, a little more. She knows exactly what you’re up to. She felt, heard, saw and knew all at once when you began your naughty game.

What especially caught her off guard though, was the raw want for her displayed by her picture clutched in your shaking hand.

Too warped in the pleasure you experience, you didn’t and still don’t notice the heads of several dolls turned your way. You don’t yet know she is watching.

She watches, like a predator might watch its prey. Though, her eyes are loving, if a little stern and dark. Possessiveness and arousal seems to flood her whole being, so much so she feels the pheromones coming off the plants in the house.

Perhaps, she is close to warping your mind a little in this state. She is dangerously close to doing so, certainly.

Donna watches quietly as she hears your thoughts, the naughtiness, the desperation, the arousal, the pleasure.

And even as she steps closer, past the hall, in the doorway, she is still one with the shadows. She stands quiet, entirely still, save for her twitching fingers and flexing thighs.

Her dark eye glances over your form on the bed.

Beautiful, bare naked, your smooth skin stretched out on the warm brown sheets. Your hair strands, sprawled out around you, creating a pattern she wishes to trace.

She sees your spread legs, shaking slightly, more the harder your fingers push into your sopping wet pussy. She smells your aroma in the air.

Subtly, she inhales and groans quietly to herself.

You’re a naughty girl today, it seems, believing you could take what is rightfully hers.

Your moans, breathy, loud, fill the room quickly. Donna grows more tense the more she hears, and feels herself become harder the more sounds escape your lips.

She feels it between her legs already, the large cock that causes the rather obvious tent in her dark dress. She feels the wetness against her boxers, the precum leaking from her already.

Then, a single sound leaves your lips that has her snap.

“A-Ahh, Mommy”~

You moan, a curl of your fingers in the right spot enough to lure this particular petname from you.

She moves fast, less moves, even. She rather appears on top of you, her fingers closing around your wrists tight, nearly like shackles.

Her gaze is hungry, her eye even darker than normal.

“What did you say?”, she rasps out, her voice rough and unpracticed. You shiver and gasp in surprise. It’s rare for her to actually talk, rather than use other means of communication.

Her voice immediately sends a jolt of pleasure from your chest to your very core. If your wrists were not restrained, maybe you’d raise them to her shoulders or hips.

Her gaze only hardens for a moment. Your eyes widen, as though reminded of the question asked. She’s close, her beautiful lips parted. Moments pass, you feel as though lost in her eye. She pulls you in, quite literally, but also your mind feels pulled in. You feel as though the pheromones of her plants dig right into your skull, yet, you are not in pain. You feel soothed, warmer, more flustered. You feel slightly less in control of yourself, and light, as though you are a puppet to the dollmaker. And really, would that be so bad?

You nearly forgot your fingers have been pulled from you; yet, the warmth inside of you barely has you notice the emptiness yet. That is, until you grow more aware of the tent in her dress, the hardness pressing up between your warm, upper thigh.

She clears her throat, the sound oddly loud in the quiet room. You feel as though torn from a clouded, quiet world.

At last, you speak.

“Mo-Mommy”, you repeat, your voice a mere whisper. Your pussy clenches at the mere words and her presence. Of course, she is always with you. You merely don’t always know.

A smile spreads on her lips, happy, pleased, hungry.

Your wrists are released, yet you are dominated enough by her mere presence to stay still unless instructed otherwise.

“My lady…”, you whisper breathlessly.

You watch, mouth watering, as smooth, black fabric comes off her body. First her dress, then her bra. Full breasts and light, dusty pink nipples that are already hard greet you. Her smooth skin glistens in the dim light of the room. Her hair is let down next, and you feel your body reacting yet again as a wave of her scent hits you. Your holes tighten automatically, a fresh layer of wetness dripping out of you. Your nipples harden instantly, your back arches slightly as you feel shivers run up and down your spine.

She’s beautiful, a goddess in your eyes.

Little do you know, you are the very same to her.

She cups your cheek softly and you no longer jump when you hear her familiar voice invading hour mind.

“Take them off”

No more instructions are needed, so that your hands immediately shoot forwards, your fingertips gently hooking into the waistband of her bulged boxers.

You pull them down slowly, each inch revealing more of her creamy skin.

Your thighs clench together at the sight of her thick crimson tip. The head is big, leaking, and sensitive. You moan lowly under your breath at the mere sight.

When her boxers are pulled down entirely, her large cock slips completely free. Slightly curved, large in size, and dripping, it slaps against your thigh. You moan, her eye still set on you even when your hand wanders to her cock.

Your eyes widen in surprise when she moves quickly again. One moment she is straddling your hips, in the other your face serves as a seat for the length of her cock. You feel it pressed up against your cheek and forehead, warm, wet, leaking precum onto your skin.

“Open up for Mommy, my most beautiful doll”, comes her voice in your head again.

You don’t even think of denying her.

As your fingers clasp the picture of her tighter, your lips part and your mouth stretches open.

And Donna wastes no time at all. She slides herself deep down your throat, her curved dick making you gag within moments. Her hips thrust slowly, but deep and precise. You feel your wrists be released in favor of her wandering hands finding and caressing other parts of your body. You feel strong, but delicate fingertips push into your hips, feel the featherlight touch of them against your bulged throat.

Tears come to your eyes from the constant gagging on her cock. You can, by now, fit her inside your mouth rather comfortably, though you doubt you will ever be able to do so without gagging and clenching around her. You can barely breathe with your spit in the way, instead feel her cock throb in your mouth from the messy and sloppy blowjob she is given.

And Donna? She thrives off it.

Her hips shake a little, her thighs and muscles are tense. She’s close, you know, but you also know your lover can hold herself right at the edge for long.

Precum leaks down your throat, feeding you her sweet cum bit by bit.

Almost offended, she slaps your hand away when you attempt to touch yourself.

“Little doll, you know I can do better”

The use of her voice catches you off guard. For a moment, you gasp, then choke, then gag, then drool some more. A low, deep chuckle is heard from her. She eases up a little, merely enough for you to breathe despite the spit smeared against your lips and her cock.

You groan and moan when her fingers push into you instead, having slid down from your throat. Of course, the dollmaker is exceptionally skilled with them. Of course, the knows this.

Curling and turning, thrusting and grinding, she brings you closer and closer to the edge. Her eyes flicker between your eyes, your throat, your body, and the picture of her held tightly between your fingertips.

You nearly whine when she plucks it from you, but even if you tried, the cock in your mouth would barely allow sound to pass. As such, she rests it on the nightstand and clasps your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers.

Your legs tremble soon, the light, overwhelming feeling rising in your stomach. You feel it, your orgasm, approaching faster and faster.

Her knuckles slide into you, until her fingers are buried deep in you and she’s palming your pussy with each stroke into you.

Her thumb rises to rub against your clit. Small circles at first, featherlight, then harder. Your body jerks on the bed as you’re stimulated.

“Would you like to cum, beautiful doll of mine?”

You shiver at her words. And while words can’t escape your lips, you plead with your eyes as best as they allow you to. You whimper, whine, moan, widen your eyes and try to nod. Your pussy clenches around her fingers, your clit grows even warmer, your nipples harden painfully.

A smirk.

“Cum”

A command, not an offer. A command from her, but also from your very body, it seems. Whether her touch or the pheromones surrounding the two of you, you feel pushed over the edge the second the words leave her dark-painted lips.

Your back arches and you groan around her cock as you cum, your vision blurry for a mere moment as you choke again and tears run down your cheeks.

Yet, you taste the delicious liquid that is her as it is shot down your throat in ropes of cum. She’s moaning lowly, her cheeks flushed slightly, her balls throbbing, her tip overly sensitive in your mouth.

When she pulls out, to your surprise, you see a string of cum and spit connect you to the tip.

Alas, she is far from done with you yet.

Giving neither of you time to truly recover from this ecstasy, you feel her fingers slide out of you and join her other hand in grabbing your hips.

“Ti stai divertendo, non è vero?”, she hums, a playful smile on her lips. “Let me join in on your little game then, my darling doll”

A scream, a breathless “Mommy…!” slips past your lips when first her huge tip, then the rest of her slides into you.

You’re settled against her, her balls pressed flush against your ass cheeks for a moment. Then, the woman begins to thrust, though. Or rather; rut. She feels feral from the name alone, this much is clear by now. You feel her loving touch, her hands kneading and savouring the touch of your skin. A sharp contrast to her hard and deep thrusts, her cock working your pussy sore and stretching it out.

Your head is thrown back, a string of moans and gasps leaving you.

“Mommy!”

“Yes! Yes yes!”

“Please, my lady! Yes! YE-YES!”

You feel sensitive, warm, and utterly loved. Kisses are trailed over your chest and neck, hands explore your body lovingly. Her curved cock hits all the sensitive spots deep inside your body, none any other could ever each.

As your eyes struggle to stay open, you feel the light feeling rise and bubble up in you again. You’re lightheaded, almost, high on the pleasure.

Your lover seems to have a similar feeling. Donna’s grip tightens on you, her thrusts become faster, more desperate.

You beg, “please, mommy, please, my lady, let me cum again..!”

And your darling lover, how could she ever refuse you?

She cums with you, her low groans and moans of pleasure a contrast to your loud, breathless moans and screams. You feel her cum in you, warm, thick, enough for you to feel it wholly in you.

When she attempts to move out, your legs swiftly hook around her and whines fall from your lips. How could she, if she is keeping you so very warm and comfortable?

A soft smile crosses her lips, and you join in on it when she merely pushes herself back inside wholly and leans down on the bed with you. She’s rested on top of you, her hair tickling your neck slightly.

Your hand finds her brown hair, her hands cup your cheek. As you share a kiss, you smile. You know, she will take care of you.

[biolumien]

Hiiii!!!! 😊👋 So I only just started Kaiju no. 8!!! New to the fandom and not a manga reader. Idk what’s going to happen in the next episode—all I know is that Hoshina better not d*e lol.

Anyways!!! Obviously I am a huge Hoshina fan/simp!!! I really like your blog and I have enjoyed your Hoshina fics!!!!!! 🥹 And since your requests are open, I wanted to know if I could perhaps make one??? 👉👈

If so, I was wondering if you could do something sort of related to your “say it!” fic??? Like where Hoshina (+ reader) somehow bumps into the ex from operations you mentioned in the fic??? And reader gets SUPERRRRR jealous (lord knows I would be especially if said ex was really beautiful and smart) and insecure. Maybe reader acts a bit distant/moody after the encounter but once Hoshina realizes what’s up he immediately reassures reader and let’s them know how much he loves/cares for them???

Sorry if this request is weird or doesn’t make sense to you, I’ve honestly just been thinking about a similar scenario ever since reading that fic of yours 😭😭 anyways thank you so much for your time 🫶❤️ and please never stop writing, your fics are beautiful 💖💕

notes: hihi; thank you so much for your request; i hope that this is okay; you sent this in before the most recent episode but hoshina's a fairly important character to the story of kaiju no 8 overall so he'll be alright... i combined this with a slightly different ask which also surrounded jealousy but with okonogi; it's very briefly mentioned though.

jealousy as the crux

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings should apply, i think. wc: 837

hoshina always maintained rather easy conversation with a lot of people—friendly conversation that sometimes got the better of your self esteem when he teasingly doted on okonogi or otherwise. 

you’d tried not to bring it up, to not bother him—because envy and jealousy like that was an ugly emotion, of course. it wouldn’t be right to burden hoshina with them–mostly because you weren’t even sure how he’d react. he was plenty envious on his own, you think–key point on think. but it might have been for more reasonable things, surely. like the envious desire to become stronger, or something noble like that.

nothing quite like yours. 

but stumbling on hoshina’s ex was never on your list of priorities at all. 

so the fact that she was here—was her name amaya?—only made you more uncomfortable. you barely knew anything about her other than the fact that okonogi spoke her name with strained reverence, cautious to never bring it up around hoshina. hoshina seemed to be uncaring of it all, even so–as if he couldn’t be bothered to remember. 

she was smoking indoors, her eyes tired and weary. 

hoshina didn’t seem to tense up when talking to her, which strangely irked you more. 

“hoshina,” amaya says, approaching hoshina with a raised eyebrow. she pats his shoulder, and he chuckles.

“you look well,” hoshina murmurs. 

“hm. well as i’ll ever be.” her eyes flit to you, her eyes narrowing. you felt uncomfortable under her gaze, as if you were some unique kind of insect to be pinned up in a collection. “this your new partner? they’re cute.”

“hm?” hoshina laughs. “aren’t they?”

the compliment doesn’t feel good, somehow, as it usually does.

“thought you said you wouldn’t date again,” amaya says, dusting off some ash off the tip of her cigarette, taking another breath before blowing it away from the two of you. “not that we really were.” she snorts. “you were too much of a coward last time.”

“hey,” hoshina says, sounding mock-hurt. “i figured we were better off as friends.”

“hm.” amaya exhales. “whatever you say.”

“i wish you’d sound more enthusiastic about this,” hoshina retorts, laughing again. it’s the same laugh he has when he talks to okonogi, that same doting laughter–but it also wasn’t anything special. it was the same kind of laughter he had when he talked to you, though perhaps it was tinged with more fondness when he spoke to you.

if there was anything hoshina was, it might’ve just been annoyingly consistent.

"it's hard to be enthusiastic surrounding you. your sarcastic energy exhausts me," amaya drawls.

you turn away from the conversation at this point–and yet you can feel amaya staring daggers into the back of your head. 

“i’ll let the two of you finish this up,” you say, and your voice sounds far more obviously strained than you’d like for it to be. 

hoshina was allowed to talk to other people. but why did amaya irk you so much? was it just the irreverent way she spoke, the way she seemed to be watching you so intently for no reason? what the hell was her problem? as you stormed off, your footsteps grew angrier as you continued to mull over it. no, seriously! what was her problem? 

but what was yours, being jealous in the first place? you were being irrational–worried because you wanted hoshina’s attention for yourself but of course it wasn’t right to worry this badly about it to the point that envy would turn your stomach like this, create the brittling sensation in your heart. it wasn’t right, and the fact that you knew it wasn’t right made the whirling sense of bad in you feel worse.

you rub your face roughly, trying to shock yourself into trying to just be fucking normal.

“hey.”

hoshina’s voice is quiet when you turn around, and his face is contemplative, brows furrowed in worry.

“are you done? talking to amaya?” you ask.

“for now,” he says. his eyes focus on your face, concerned now. “are you okay?”

“i’m…”

the words die in your throat.

“i don’t want to be jealous,” you say weakly. “of whatever’s going on. but, i–”

hoshina’s hands are on your face before you can even finish your sentence, squishing your cheeks together.

“mm, i see.” hoshina blinks, humming. “why didn’t you just say so earlier?”

you blink.

“you’re not… mad?” you ask.

“mad?” hoshina raises an eyebrow, cocking his head. it looks cute. “should i be?”

“no,” you say. “i–or, i don’t know. maybe? yes?”

“which is it?” hoshina asks, a teasing smile on his face before his brow furrows a bit. “if you would have just told me earlier i could have easily just told you that there’s nothing going on between me and anyone else but you. i chose you. don’t forget that, okay?”

you blink.

“and i love you,” hoshina says, completely straightforwardly, with sure honesty. “don’t forget that.”

you nod, and he squeezes your face, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

[lavendertales]

cállate la boca || Miguel O'Hara x f!reader**

summary: he's so damn annoyed by you. he detests you. he finds you boring and uninteresting. except for when you're alone with him at night.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: Miguel being a bossy asshole (who rambles in Spanish when he really gets into the heat of things), dirty talk, teasing, ass play, pussy slapping, doggy, just general filth.

A/N: ...I have no comment. idk how I got here. this is just somethin' I had to get out so I'm posting and fleeing lmao 🙈 feedback is more than welcome!

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

As far as everyone else is concerned, Miguel O'Hara finds you annoying as fuck. Some might go as far as to say that he's repulsed by your mere presence.

And you don't argue with them. Why would you? You've got nothing to prove. You know the truth as well: Miguel does hate you.

Except for when he doesn't.

Which is every single night.

You don’t bother looking back on how it all started. Frankly, you don’t remember. All you know is the present and the well-choreographed routine you and Miguel have selfishly developed over the weeks.

When he shuts the door behind him, he exhales. You’re already waiting for him in the bedroom, no words spoken. Though the way in which he fucks you varies from night to night, you always know to wait for him naked unless otherwise instructed.

Miguel’s eyes notice you from the frame, drinking in the image of your nude body in the poorly lit room. He leans against the door’s frame, head cocked to the left, and then to the right. Then he slowly inches closer to the bed, disposing of the skintight suit. Your mouth nearly waters.

“Always so needy,” he groans.

You can practically hear his eyes roll. It’s best if you follow his lead once he decides the kind of mood he’s in and how he wants to use your bodies to reach the throes of pleasure.

Though you can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth when two of his fingers boldly dip into your cunt, stroking and teasing. “Did you touch yourself before I got home?”

Part of you wants to tease him further, but you know from past experience that is a dangerous game to play with Miguel. So you gulp, shamelessly admitting defeat. “A bit,” you confess.

“So damn needy. Couldn’t wait for me to fuck you, hm?”

“Yes.”

You barely breathe. You don’t contradict, you don’t oppose him. Your desires precede any of that; you simply want to give and receive. It’s all this physical relationship is for. Relief. A simple biological need with nothing else brewing in between.

But the way Miguel goes about pleasure is somehow fitting with him: impatient (no matter what he reprimands you for), greedy, dominant and overall a wild ride. He starts playing with your clit as you gasp, spreading your legs further, and then he stops. When you involuntarily whine, he lays a spank over your pussy, though nothing you can’t handle, and leans in to whisper to your earlobe, “Ass up for me, princesita.”

You follow his instruction, albeit the mocking petname, and turn around, your ass shamelessly on display for him to play with however he deems fit. He squeezes and spanks a few times, then he moves back to your clit—and surprisingly, to the other tight ring of skin that’s in its vicinity.

“You’d let me fuck this hole too, wouldn’t you? Yeah, I bet you would. I bet you’d like me to stretch every inch of this body and would take whatever I give you.”

You can barely muster a “mhm” as Miguel’s fingers graze further, testing, anticipating and building. Building for what, you don’t know.

All you know is that you are ridiculously wet by this point, and you have to resist the urge to reach around and play with your clit—else you won’t be able to come at all tonight. Usually when you disobey, Miguel doesn’t allow for any relief from your side.

And you desperately need some relief right about now.

Sometimes he likes it when you beg. Sometimes he himself asks you to beg for him and his cock. You just don’t have the luxury of knowing when or if it will happen.

“Needy little thing,” you hear him coo.

Sometimes he likes to tease you about the height difference too. No matter what you’d look like, you’d still be smaller than him. And Miguel fucking loves that. He loves towering over you, having power and direction over you.

You succumb to him each and every time, without fail.

You can’t conceal the broken moan that you exhale when you feel his cock thrust abruptly into you. He only gives you a few seconds to adjust to him and the sensation of having him fill you up to the brim like that, and then he starts to move.

And you see stars.

“Such a needy little cunt,” Miguel mutters, groaning. “So needy and tight and wet… you thought of me when you touched yourself? Hm?”

“Mhm—“

“Hable, hoy.”

Talk, today.

“Yes—yes, I—I did—“

Words are hard to come by when Miguel’s mercilessly pounding into you from behind, holding you by your waist and with his free hand teasing your ass, barely breaching the skin there.

“You like being a little fucktoy, don’t you? Hmpf—carajo—“

He’s grunting relentlessly, proof that he doesn’t have as much control over his own reactions as much as he’d like to. Whenever he grunts that throated fuck in Spanish, you know he’s getting close. And if past is any indication, you know that soon enough his rambles and his talk will melt almost exclusively into Spanish.

“Princesita needs—needs her little pussy stretched out, doesn’t she? Princesita n-needs to be filled—with my cock, isn’t that right?”

“Yes—“

“Yes, that’s fucking right… ella me necesita… a mí, y a mi polla…”

She needs me… me, and my cock.

Miguel’s string of thoughts begins to lose itself into your body, your scent and your sounds, and you both know it. If you were to dwell into the moment too much, you might overthink how Miguel emphasized the “me” in his barely coherent string of filthy words, but you don’t. You can’t.

“La princesita está necesitada y estúpida de mi polla, ¿verdad?”

The little princess is needy and stupid for my cock, isn't she?

You swear you hear him smile behind the words. You can only mumble yes on a broken loop, feeling your climax close. You’re thankful that you’ve learned some Spanish when this whole Miguel ordeal began because approval is something he seeks deeply, almost like he feeds off of it, and the lack of a response wouldn’t sit well with him.

“Miguel—Miguel, I’m—“

“Close?”

“Mhm. P-Please—“

He grabs a handful of your hair, thus ceasing the tease to your ass, and bends your body almost in half just to whisper harshly to you, “Cállate la boca y ven”.

Shut your mouth and come.

His command sparks something inside you, and you come mere seconds later, biting your lips to the point of tasting blood so you don’t scream his name. Some night he wants to hear his name scratch your throat as you beg for him, but it seems tonight is not one of those times.

“Wanna paint this ass all over,” he groans.

And that is just what he does. He strokes himself to completion, his hot seed spilling in thick spurts all over your ass as he licks his lips. He’s already thinking of tomorrow night and how he’ll want to push new limits and explore more of your body.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hii I just discovered your blog through your Sleep Token writings and I just have to say they’re really good!!! I love the way you write the boys especially iv in His Mark. I love when boys are like ‘quietly possessive’ I think it’s cute af.

Sooo which got me thinking about how the other 3 would mark the person they’re interested in/have a crush on..?

Their necklaces? Gift one of their Rings? Secret little gifts? Go slightly stalker mode? Idk but anyway would love to hear and read your writings and thoughts💕

Thank you for reading and being so sweet. I loved writing this🤍✨

Vessel

As I said, he is a quiet type of possessive in my eyes. His whole persona screams that he doesn’t need words if he wants to be intimidating. And while he’s calm about you interacting with other people for the most part, the moment he changes his mind or has enough with someone trying to shoot their shot with you, he is up and slowly walking your way.

His claim on you is in form of lovebites. Try to convince me that the boy is not into biting. That’s part of his love language. So a bruise on your neck or collarbones keeps all the lurkers away. He gets more creative in places that others might not get to see. But I wholeheartedly believe that he’s out there creating love hearts from his kisses on your thighs. Your skin is a canvas for him.

But he’s also pretty touch-starved so if there’s only the closest people on the team there he is holding your hand. Through it all. No matter what he is doing his palm is extended towards you and he won’t be settling until you either wrap your hand around his finger - that would make the wires in his brain spark - or just feel your much smaller hand pressed against his palm. So by all means most people would be more than aware that you’re his and his only.

III

Our little firecracker. He is a lot more expressive with his emotions so if this man feels like someone is getting a bit too close to ya, I would suggest that person looks over his shoulder for a day or two. All 6’4 of him that’s my lucky guess on his height would love it when you wore his clothes and found ways to incorporate something that is his into your outfit

A shirt of his you liked when you were on a date? Say no more. You would find it casually left in a place you would no doubt see it. Still smelling of him. A new hoodie the band was working on putting out? “Model it, baby, it looks better on you regardless”.

And now I imagine how he would halt when he saw you in his clothes for the very first time and how this need to see you in them was fueled. He’s trying to make breakfast. Simple pancakes that he had googled a recipe for. Part of him wants to make it special somehow cause it’s the first night that you have stayed over. He doesn’t hear you walking downstairs because he’s too focused on the amount of flowers he needs to use and the chunks that are forming. It is the light chuckle that slips past your lips that has him nearly throwing the spatula your way.

And then his whole body freezes, face going blank as he drinks in the sight of you. “I can change, I just didn’t find any of my clothes”, a light panic sets into you, not wanting to cross boundaries there might be. But III is quick to put everything that he’s holding and within a heartbeat, one of his arms is sneaking over your middle as he swiftly lifts you. You let out a surprised scream as he effortlessly places you on the counter. The biggest grin on his face.

“Do you know how good you look?”, his arms are on either side of you as he leans forward. “iii, I just woke up… my hair…”, you giggle but he cuts you off with a shake of his head, “Is perfect, you are perfect”, he leans in brushing his lips over yours, “Especially in my clothes, fuck me”, his hands move to run beneath the hem of the shirt, massaging your hips with slow circles.

II

He will forever be a secret to me. There’s something so mysterious about him. At times I feel like my INFJ ass can see right through him but then I’m like maybe I am so wrong. 😂

I feel like in a similar way to Vess, he doesn’t go around throwing punches if someone is standing too close to you for his liking. Cause similar to Vess there’s that sense of threat in someone’s silence. He’s a lot more private about his personal life even with people he loves and his affectionate side only comes out behind closed doors.

So if he wanted to mark you it would probably be something small. He wouldn’t go all flashy. Maybe a necklace he wears for most of the shows. Or a little II pendant on a chain. *cue TS I want to wear his initials on the chain around my neck* type of shit. He would love it too. Pulling at the chain ever so slightly when he wants to kiss you. Or simply when he needs a distraction. Slowly calming his racing mind.

I think it’s with quality time and gestures of love that he would show just how much he cares. So if you need a way to calm yourself his shirt is off, he’s laying on his stomach and you sit there, straddling his lower back as you color in his tattoos. He doesn’t let anyone touch them except you. And even if the pattern stays the same he still enjoys seeing the different color combinations you come up with. His little artist.

[gardenofnoah]

i’m coming up on a year of having this blog and i thought i’d do something with this drabble that i can’t stop thinking about so. yeah! thanks for reading my little stories and saying such nice things to me for a whole year <3 love u 

summary: in his 40s, touya isn’t expecting anything outside of his normal, comfortable routine. you come along and give him far more than he ever wanted. oddly enough, he doesn’t think he minds. 

tags: MDNI, i’ll call this a medium burn, mentions of drinking, reader uses she/her pronouns and is called a lady,etc, age gap (unspecified but like 10 years--both are consenting adults), very little angst (like, the least i’ve ever written. this is just cute, if you can believe that.), smut (dry humping, oral), this is very much a comfort fic to me idk. wc: 10.1k

much to his utter disdain, Touya sees you everywhere after your first encounter. and often. 

you have this awful habit of just popping up. in the stool next to him at the bar, with such regularity that his friends now joke about it being your stool, and then around town—everywhere he goes. it’s a small town, sure—but he still finds it ridiculous. even more ridiculous—the fact that you might be growing on him, despite all his resistance. 

he doesn’t know when he started expecting you to hop up on that stool every friday. has no idea when he memorized your drink order, or when he started ordering it for you preemptively. this goes on every friday for weeks—until you don’t show up.

and he’s irritated then, because it makes him sore—where else could you possibly be? 

“where’s your girl?”

“don’t know,” he mutters. he catches the smirk on his friend’s face out of the corner of his eye. “and she’s not my fuckin’ girl.”

that makes him laugh, and Touya turns away in a huff, face burning. 

“sure she’s not.”

it’s another two weeks before he sees you. not that he was counting. 

when he sees you again, it’s a tuesday, and he’s just wrapped up at his neighbor’s house. he carries two loaves of bread in one arm, and his toolbox in the other. the old woman had chased him out of there early, telling him, “it’s a nice night. go out there and find you someone!”.  he snorts, kicking a bit of asphalt down the pavement. that old bat acts worse than his mother. 

there are a few vendors lined up along the road, so he lets himself take his time—strolling casually, eyes raking over the stalls. it is a nice evening—warm, but the breeze is cool as it rustles through his hair. he sees a white tip from the corner of his eye and it almost startles him. it doesn’t matter how much distance he puts between himself and Dabi—it still surprises him when he realizes that he is not the same. physically or otherwise. 

lost in his thoughts, he finds himself nearly home when he sees you in his peripheral, taking something from the merchant of the produce stall across the street. he has half a mind to turn and walk the opposite way (away from his house) just to avoid this interaction—still wholly irritated over wasting the $7 on your stupid little drink, and that’s all—but you seem to have a weird sixth sense when it comes to him, and your head snaps up in his direction right before he can make a break for it. you give him that stupid smile that he has to look away from, waving at him happily before you take off in his direction. 

he considers if he still has time to flee, but then you’re there in front of him. 

“Touya!” you beam up at him, totally ignoring the scowl he levels you with, “what are you doing here?”

“i live here,” he grumbles, looking away from you again, “what are you doing here?”

“ah, i visit my family on tuesdays. whatcha got there?” 

he pointedly looks down at the bread in his arms, and back up at you. you’re looking at it a little too intensely, eyebrows scrunched together like you’re trying to figure something out—and then the moment’s gone, and you’re smiling up at him again. 

“want to share?” you ask, holding up your bag of produce to him. 

he doesn’t, but he finds himself next to you anyway, sitting on a retaining wall while you chatter away—kicking your feet out and handing him slices of an orange between your own bites. 

he learns more about you. early 30s (so not as young as he’d guessed, but still young enough to make him cringe), living alone like he is. you grew up in town, moved away for a while, and then came back. you don’t really like sweets but you do like fruit—hence the overflowing tote bag full of it—and you’re more inclined to reach for tea than coffee. you own the little flower shop a few blocks down. he thinks it suits you—and then he shakes his head, trying to dislodge the thought. 

“i’m having an issue with the floor though, so part of the shop has been blocked off for a few weeks. not great for the foot traffic, but what can you do,” you shrug absentmindedly, more focused on digging another piece of fruit out of your bag. you settle on a peach, and it’s quiet between you for a beat. as if waiting for the silence, the thought that he’d been holding back for the better part of an hour finds its way out of his mouth. 

“haven’t seen you at the bar,” he mutters, picking a stringy bit of peel off the orange piece he’s been holding. 

“huh? oh, yeah. i had a wedding order that i was working on. it was so….much,” you shudder like you went off to war instead. “why, did you miss me?”

he looks away, eyes narrowed in a scowl. “just was a waste of a drink, s’all.”

he regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth. 

“a drink? my—oh. wait.”

your eyes go wide—he should’ve known you’d catch on to the meaning behind his words and he wants to die—

“forget it—“

“Touya,” you cut him off, and he can hear your shit eating grin, “were you hoping to see me?”

he’s sure he’s gone bright red and resists the urge to recede into himself like a snail into a shell. now he’s irritated, because did you think your drink just magically appeared in front of you every friday? he can feel the smugness radiating off of you—you want him to say it. he huffs, still looking away from you. 

“just…was a waste of money,” he grits out, knowing fully that he hasn’t worried about money in quite some time, “figured you’d be there.” 

you hum, and he still can’t look at you. refuses to, actually. 

“sorry, Touya,” you tell him, and it sounds so genuine that he finds himself turning to you, just to check—to make sure you’re not fucking with him. “i’ll be sure to let you know the next time i won't be there.” 

he rolls his eyes at the way you’re smiling softly at him, always like you know something he doesn’t. he mumbles out a clipped “whatever” and he hates the way he sounds like he did when he was 23. you don’t pay it any mind though, right back to talking his ear off. 

“so do you live, like, really alone? or do you have a pet? you strike me as a gerbil guy.” 

he huffs out a laugh at that, caught wholly off guard at the thought of being the gerbil guy (have you seen him?) and you smile at the sound, clearly pleased with yourself. 

“no gerbil. a dog,” he finally takes a bite of the orange he’s been cradling in his palm for the better half of the last 20 minutes. your eyes don’t leave him. 

“mm. chihuahua,” you say solemnly, and he whips his head around to look at you, expression all twisted and incredulous. 

“a big fuckin’ dog, you brat.” 

you laugh at his outburst, seeming to get some sort of pleasure out of riling him up. 

“can i meet him?” 

he looks at you then, and you’re really laying it on thick—wide eyes blinking up at him, bottom lip jutted out in a little pout. he can’t find it in himself to say no to you. with a sigh, he pushes himself up from the wall. 

“c’mon then.” 

it’s a short walk to his place and you’re vibrating behind him. shoving his key into the lock, he hears the familiar thumping of a tail, at about the same frequency as your incessant excitement at his back—he wonders just what he’s done to attract this level of energy. 

“wait a minute—he’s going to jump at you—“

“oh, who cares. let me see him!” 

he shakes his head, swinging open the door. he sees his big oaf of a dog rear up to jump, and then—

and then his jaw drops, because for what may very well be the first time, his dog is suddenly sitting. 

you squeal and the dog isn’t much better off—practically wiggling away from his spot on the floor and whining at the sight of you, but still sitting. 

“Touya!” you laugh, shoving past him to throw your arms around the dog’s neck, squeezing him tightly, “i know this dog!”

“you—huh?” 

“i—“ your own laugh cuts you off, giggling while the dog fights your grip to lick you directly on the face, “i know him! did you get him at the shelter in town?”

“…yeah?”

“oh man! i used to volunteer—i was there when he was dropped off. i was with him all the time—taught him some manners—but then i took that job out of town for a little bit, so i didn’t get to see him after that.” 

Touya, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his dog is sitting, can’t bring himself to formulate a coherent reply. 

“oh, i was so worried about him,” you say quietly, hugging the dog tighter, “i’m really glad you have him. what did you name him?”

that snaps him out of it, and he looks away, sheepish. 

“i—uh. didn’t.” 

you blink at him, processing, and then you frown. 

“are you kidding me?”

he shrugs, looking at the dog— who, also for the first time, seems to be glaring at him with the same sentiment. 

you sigh, shaking your head. “that won’t do,” you mutter, more to the dog than to him. “i think i called him Buck.” 

as if on cue, Buck’s tail thumps against the floor. 

“why?” 

“not sure,” you say, scratching behind a fuzzy ear, “he just reminded me a little bit of a deer.” 

Touya scoffs, completely in the dark as to how the two were even remotely similar. 

“alright. Buck it is, then.” 

you smile, patting the dog on the head as if he’d done anything worth rewarding. with a sigh you get to your feet, stretching a bit. 

“i really do have to go see my family now,” you tell him, and he swears he hears a tiny bit of regret in your voice, “but thanks for letting me see Buck.” 

he only nods, watching you bend down to kiss Buck square on his stupid blockhead. 

“see you Friday?”

he swallows thickly, nodding again. your eyes are too bright. 

“okay. see you, Touya.” 

“hey,” he stops himself from reaching for you as you go to open the door, “i can…look at that floor for you. if y’want.” 

every time he thinks he’s used to the way you just throw your emotions around like live grenades, he’s not—you smile at him so brightly he thinks you might just kill him. 

you have a hunch that Touya is secretly a really good guy. 

it’s almost endearing—how hard he tries to be so prickly—but it’s always all for naught, because he can’t help but go out of his way to do things for you. 

you don’t know what to call the relationship—you gathered enough information from hushed whispers to his friends anytime he left his stool at the bar to know that he pointedly did not seek out the affections of women (“or men,” one of his friends said with a shrug, like they weren’t really sure). you weren’t clear on where that left you, so you were content to keep learning what you could about him—to stick around, as long as he tolerated you. 

and he just barely does that, but you have a hunch it’s a farce. especially when take out cups full of freshly steeped tea start appearing on your counter in the shop, more days than not.

you lean against the wood top, sipping today's tea with both hands to warm yourself while you watch Touya work. autumn was in full swing now, and you had some difficulty keeping the shop to your preferred level of warmth, but it didn’t seem to bother him. your eyes linger on the hem of his old t-shirt, rising up in the back just a little when he reached for a different tool. it was obvious that time had softened him a bit, but he was still in shape. your vision followed the faded, looping scar that moved with the curl of his bicep as he worked each tool. it was hard not to stare. 

it was even harder to get away with it. 

“you’ll burn a hole in my head, brat.” 

“just checking your work,” you tell him through a grin. trying very hard to feign nonchalance.

“oh yeah?” Touya looks at you over his shoulder, smirking at you. you feel it bodily. “what’s the verdict?” 

“looks….” you pause, examining the array of tools and the sizable hole he’s created in the floor, “yeah. yep. like good work.”

he scoffs, shaking his head and turning back to the task at hand. you resist the urge to slam your head off the counter—settling for tapping in lightly as reprimand for your less than intelligent response. 

you decide that the best way to get the embarrassment to dissipate is to do the thing that is quickly becoming your favorite activity: bothering him. 

“pick a color.” 

“what?”

“i said pick a color, grandpa.”

the sigh he lets out makes you laugh. “you fuckin’—fine. red. what’re you doing?” 

you smile at him, and you watch him flush. it makes you giddy. 

“nothing,” you drawl, sing-songy and incriminating, “don’t you worry your little heart about it.” 

“you are the worry to my little heart,” he deadpans, not bothering to look up from the measurement he’s taking. 

another thing you learn about Touya—he’s got a bit of a (dry) sense of humor. he seems to enjoy making you laugh.

there’s a lull in customers and you use it to your advantage—you go around to every bucket to ensure that each cut stem is submerged, and take out the wilted ones to dry. you don’t sell those ones—you just hang them up around the shop. you think it’s better not to waste them. 

you also pull out some good looking red ones, as inconspicuous as you can—you gather a tulip, a few poppies, a peony, and a big, variegated chrysanthemum for the center. 

you hold the makeshift bouquet behind your back as you approach Touya—padding over to him quietly until you’re close enough to lean into his space. 

“whatcha thinking about?” 

he spares you a pointed glance over his shoulder. “pest control.” 

“har har,” you plop down right next to him, grinning at the way he bristles. of course it’s all for show—he doesn’t move an inch. 

“made you something.” 

“hm?”

you bring the bouquet out from behind your back, brandishing it in front of him dramatically. “tada!”

his eyes go wide—you see it take a minute for him to process that you’re giving him a gift. he sets his tools down and reaches for it, tentatively, like you’re going to fake him out at the last second. you meet him halfway, setting it in his hands. 

“well?” you ask after a minute, “what do you think? i do pretty well, right?” 

he’s quiet—turning the flowers over and back again, like he’s committing all of the little petals to memory. “what are they?”

you tell him about each flower—where they grow naturally, what conditions they like to live in, how to take care of them. he listens intently, never looking away from them. 

“you don’t have to keep them,” you tell him after another moment of silence, “it was just a silly thing.”

“no,” he says, firmly. he looks at you out of the corner of his eye and lets out a breath, looking back down at the flowers. “s’nice. thanks.” 

you have to physically stop yourself from jumping up and cheering. 

“you’re welcome, old man,” you murmur, nudging his shoulder with your own.

he groans, grumbling a lighthearted “get away from me” as he shoves you back playfully. you let out some sort of dramatic squeal as you topple over, and you don’t miss the tiny smile that stretches across his face as he sets the flowers down next to him and gets back to work. 

customers come in and out throughout the afternoon—most not paying any mind to Touya as he works. there are a few customers that eye him hesitantly—and there are one or two that stare pointedly at the scars that split his face. it feels like second nature to drop the customer service persona then—and to do things like drop their change on the counter and revel in the way they scramble to catch it before it rolls off onto the floor. 

“have the best day,” you say to one particularly rude customer, all but shooing her out of the door. 

Touya huffs out a laugh when you walk back toward him. “didn’t think you had it in you, kid.” 

you cock an eyebrow at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“surprised you didn’t kick out her kneecaps on the way out.” 

“yeah, well,” you huff, waving a hand at the thought of someone so dreadfully rude, “she would’ve deserved it.” 

“why’s that?”

you meet his eyes, then, and for the first time since you met him you think about the fact that they’ve seen terrible things. you knew of Touya, of course—all of Japan did. you knew he’d been through something awful and did things that you couldn’t imagine the man in front of you doing now. you know that he would not be surprised if you told him the reason why you felt she deserved it. you wonder if it bothers him the way it bothers you, or if time has hardened him to his own mistreatment. 

“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, walking back behind the counter. 

you haven’t seen much of Touya for the last few weeks. 

you’d gotten another big order—what would probably be one of the last before winter really set in— so you were busy. he’d stop by sometimes with the excuse of checking the floor (and always with a tea for you in hand), but you learn that he’s uncomfortable with lingering, and he’s usually gone as quickly as he came. 

you don’t mind—it’s nice to know he’s thinking of you. you’ve just been wondering if it’s in the way you want him to—and a lot more than you should be, lately. 

you concede to having a little crush on him. who wouldn’t? he’s incredibly sweet in his own way and very nice to look at and you suppose anyone would if they’d gotten the opportunity to get to know him over the several months that you have. so what if you’re thinking about where he’s at or if he’s eaten lunch or if he’s at the bar without you, more often than not? it’s just a little secret you keep to yourself.

you try not to think about how it’s one that would make him never speak to you again if he found out about it. 

you let out a groan, looking down at the half-formed bundle of alstroemeria and eucalyptus in your hands. you’d been staring at it for 20 minutes now and the motivation to continue just wasn’t coming. you suppose it was as good of a time as any to take a break. 

standing up from the floor and stretching your arms above your head, your spine rewards you with a few satisfying pops as you get yourself moving again. your eyes scan the shop, surveying the damage—most of it caused by you in the last few weeks, with scraps of paper wrap and loose stems strewn about. the shop could definitely use a deep cleaning, but little things like that were just part of routine upkeep, so you don’t mind. it’s only when you roll out your neck that you spot it: a tiny, but noticeable, brown stain on the ceiling that certainly wasn’t there before. you lift your phone above your head to snap a picture of it. 

sent 5:57pm>>> hi. do you think this is a big deal

received 5:59pm>>> looks like water damage

received 5:59pm>>> when did that happen?

sent 6:00 pm>>> not sure. just saw it

sent 6:00 pm>>> if i just pretend it’s not there will it go away?

received 6:01 pm>>> that ever worked for you before?

sent 6:04 pm>>> i don’t like your tone 

received 6:06 pm>>> cry about it. i’ll be over to look at it tomorrow

you smile at his brashness, setting your phone down on the counter. it really was very hard to not be enamored by him. you shake your head, trying to get rid of the thought like a wrong  answer in a magic 8 ball. you have no such luck, but you realize what time it is and feel relieved. It’s tuesday—you can finally start getting ready to see your family. 

you clean up and pull on the spare coat you have in the shop storage room, locking the shop door behind you as you leave. your grandparents don’t live far—just a mile or so down the road, and it’s not too cold to walk yet, so you don’t mind the trek. 

you have a standing weekly visit at your grandparents’ place. they’re just about the only family you have left, and they’re slowing down a bit. it’s meaningful to you to spend time with them when you can—even if your grandmother insists on filling it with her insistence that you find a boyfriend.

you know she means well, so you tolerate it. your grandparents’ love story is one for the ages—high school sweethearts, together and in love ever since. the dynamic is an amusing one—your grandmother, ever the chatterbox, and your grandfather, only ever amused and endeared by his wife’s inherent ability to take up space. you have always really admired their relationship, but a small part of you believed for a long time that there was something wrong with you for not being able to have the same thing. now that you’re older, you don’t feel that way—but that doesn’t make being on the receiving end of the badgering any easier. 

like you’ve summoned her with your thoughts, she’s on the front stoop when you approach the house—hand already on her hip like she’s winding up to start her lecture.

“i was starting to think you wouldn’t come!”

“am i late?” you ask genuinely, pulling your phone out to check the time. 6:26pm—you’re early. 

“you might as well be!” she quips, pulling you into a hug. you can smell dinner cooking through the open window behind her. you close your eyes, content to be held in the moment. you miss this feeling of home every time you leave—

“alright you old bat, s’fixed. you gotta quit dumping cooking oil down the—oh.”

your eyes snap open at the familiar voice and you find blue eyes staring back at you, shocked as you’ve ever seen them. you blink, still mid-embrace and trying to comprehend why Touya is standing in your grandmother’s doorway. or why he’s a little sweaty and dirty and wearing that tight old t-shirt. if he’s always worn a bandana to keep the hair out of his eyes, or if that’s a new thing and either way, why haven’t you seen it? it takes another long minute before you remember how to get words to come out of your mouth. 

“i–uh. hi...hi Touya.” you stutter a little, and your grandmother notices that you’ve gone completely rigid in her arms. she pulls away to look at you, and then at Touya, and back to you—

and your stomach drops when you see the most shit eating grin spread across her face. 

you give her your best you wouldn’t dare look. 

she just smiles at you sweetly as if to say: i absolutely would.

“do you have dinner plans, Mr. Todoroki?”

he blinks. “i–uh–”

“no? excellent. go wash up! you can join us.”

she starts back up to the door with more pep in her step than you’ve seen in a long time, patting Touya’s shoulder before shoving him unceremoniously to the side with surprising strength and walking back into the house. 

you’re left out there together, both clearly still trying to play catch up. true to your nature, you’re the first to break the silence.

“i see you’ve met my grandmother,” you say with a laugh, starting up the steps. he shakes himself in time to open the door for you.

“you’re related to that dinosaur?”

you pin him with your best glare. “that’s not nice. she came after the dinosaurs.”

he follows in after you, the smallest smirk on his face. that you caused it makes your chest feel light. 

dinner is relatively tame. to your genuine surprise, your grandmother sticks to easy topics, save for one comment about how you’re “getting up there” and should start thinking about children. 

“oh my god, Mam,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose, exasperated. you look to Touya for help—who is clearly very amused and not interested in saving you from this. 

“i’m just saying,” you grandmother waves a dismissive hand at you, “now who wants dessert?”

you leave the house a few hours later—with Touya in tow, because he refused to let you walk home in the dark by yourself. you certainly don’t mind the company.

“i can’t believe i didn’t put it together that you knew my grandparents,” you say, shaking your head. no wonder those bread loaves, months ago now, had looked so familiar. 

“been helpin’ them out with maintenance stuff around the house,” he mutters, the hands in his pockets the only indication that he feels the evening chill, “they’re good people.”

the way that he talks about them makes you feel warm. “i’m really happy to hear that,” you sigh. you bump into him, and he stays close. “i’m sorry you have to put up with all of my grandmother’s antics though.”

he huffs a laugh, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “s’not so bad. except maybe when she’s trying to arrange a marriage for me with half the town.”

“oh god,” you turn to him in absolute horror, “she does that to you, too? i thought it was just because i’m her grandkid. she really wants to have great grandkids.”

he laughs when you shudder. “what, you’re not gonna give ‘em to her?”

you make a face at that. “no. kids are great, just…not really something i ever wanted.”

you think you see him physically deflate with something akin to relief out of the corner of your eye. you smile and try not to read into it. 

the wind picks up and you shiver. Touya blinks down at you.

“you didn’t think to wear a thicker coat?”

you roll your eyes pointedly at him. “no, dad, i didn’t.”

he scowls at you, clearly not entertained, but then he’s shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“what are you doing? it’s too cold!”

“s’fine,” he mutters, brushing up against you with each step, “can’t really feel it.”

you go quiet while you consider this, eyes drifting to the textured skin that wraps around his bicep. there’s an ache in your chest that flares up whenever you think about Touya, small and proud and burned within an inch of his life. you wonder if he still feels it, 30 some odd years later. you want to reach for him, but you think better of it.

“do they hurt still?” you ask quietly, after a moment. 

“sometimes.”

you get the sense that he wouldn’t mind if you asked more, but you’re not sure what to say. you don’t think it would be fair to ask him to relive any of it to satisfy your own curiosity. there’s just one thing you’d still like to know. 

“are you angry?”

he gives you a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he looks down at you. his gaze is searching, like he’s looking for your fear—fear of him, of what he’s done. you know he won’t find any. 

“no.”

the rest of the walk home is shrouded in comfortable silence, save for the crunch of shoes against pavement. all too quickly you’re at the door to the shop again.

you dig for the keys for your apartment on the second floor while Touya leans against the door frame, watching you. 

you feel the metal dig into your palm when you close your fist around them. you look back up at him, and it’s almost startling how soft he looks right now. unguarded.

“can i hug you?” you ask, startling yourself a little. he’s so clearly not a touchy guy, but you hope he’ll indulge you—just this once. 

his eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then his face smooths back into his practiced stoicism. he rolls his eyes, but steps forward anyway. you feel like you just won the lottery. 

“make it quick, brat.”

you nearly tackle him in your excitement and you hear him grumble next to your ear. you feel an arm loop around your shoulders, and you are suddenly very aware that your little crush is far larger than you thought. you file it away for later, because the beat of his heart against your ear feels far more important right now. everything about him is warm—you stifle a sigh at the immediate comfort that rolls over you like a wave. 

“now go inside before y’get sick.”

you resist the urge to pout. you stay there for another beat—and he doesn’t move either. 

you untangle yourself from him with a sigh. if you didn’t know any better, you’d interpret the look on his face as something close to disappointment. you start shrug your shoulders out of his jacket to hand it back to him, but he stops you.

“just, ah—” he starts, looking away from you, “give it back to me tomorrow. when i fix your fuckin’ mess.”

you raise an eyebrow, posturing to argue, but something in his expression tells you not to.

“okay,” you say finally, quiet between you, “be careful going home. goodnight, Touya.”

he lingers for a moment more before letting out a little grunt and turning on his heel. your eyes trail over the expanse of his shoulders as he grows fainter down the road until he disappears into the dark.

you drag yourself up the stairs, suddenly feeling exhausted. you stumble through the dark of your apartment until your knees knock into your bed frame. you fall into bed face first, not bothering to change or even get under the covers. still wrapped in the jacket that smells like him.

you dream of fire that warms but doesn’t burn. 

“good morning, Mr. Todoroki.”

Touya nearly comes out of his skin, hissing as he hits his head off of the counter he’s crouched under. it would be impressive, how stealthy the old bat was, if it wasn’t so god damned annoying.

“how many times do i have to tell you not to call me that?” he grumbles, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head as he gets to his feet. she only chuckles.

“you’ll have to forgive me for not addressing you with the same familiarity that my granddaughter does.”

he whips his head around to look at her—which he finds to be a mistake, because she’s just looking at him with that knowing old lady smirk that makes his skin itch. 

“don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he mutters, stooping down to lodge himself as far under the counter as he needs to to avoid the rest of this conversation. 

“oh, please. do i look like i was born yesterday?”

he pauses, mid crouch, to look back at her over his shoulder. she clicks her tongue at him. “don’t answer that.”

“i think it would be nice for you both to have…companionship,” she settles on the last word like it’s not really what she wanted to say, and it reminds him far too much of his mother. usually he’d shut this conversation down, but for a reason unknown to him, he doesn’t. 

“don’t y’think i’m a little too old for her?” he asks, half-joking. he’d be a liar to say that he hadn’t thought about it at length. 

she waves a dismissive hand at him, rolling her eyes. “oh please—you wouldn’t know too old if it hit you upside the head.” 

he hides another smirk from her—which she seems to expect anyway, shaking her head with a sigh. 

“you’re both babies still,” she says quietly, with all of the wisdom and yearning of someone who has lived as long as she has, “you have nothing but time. just don’t waste it.”

Touya’s not sure when the shift happened, but he’s acutely aware that it has happened. 

he’s doesn’t know when he started allowing you to touch him. he’s usually uncomfortable with that sort of thing—it tends to aggravate his skin and it does well to make him feel queasy. but you lay your arm over his to show him something about your flowers on your phone, and he doesn’t feel any urge to reel back from you. he wants to be surprised at his lack of reaction, but he supposes he’s not—proximity to him has always been something you’ve insisted on, physical or otherwise. 

the bar is crowded tonight, which leaves him feeling uneasy. the noise level grates at his nerves and he finds himself having to lean into you just to hear what you’re saying. it sours his mood immensely. 

he’s scowling into his beer when he feels you crowd his space. his head snaps up, ready to gripe at you, and he finds you’re turned away from him. he looks around you and sees that your space has been crowded—by some rowdy little punk he’s never seen before.

immediately and on some sort of primal instinct, Touya wraps an arm around you, yanking you into his side. you brace yourself with a hand on his chest to avoid flat out headbutting his chin. 

“hey,” he snarls over your head, eyes like daggers at the offender, “watch where you’re fuckin’ going.”

the man turns around, posturing to defend himself, but one look at Touya has his eyes widening in the same expression of fear that he sees on everyone else’s face. usually the reaction sits in his stomach like a rock, but this time, he revels in it. “and while you’re at it, you can apologize to her.”

his looks down at the ground immediately, unwilling to spend another minute under scrutiny. 

“sorry about that,” he mutters dejectedly. Touya feels your grip tighten around the hem of his shirt, but to his surprise, you say nothing. 

“get the fuck out of here,” he barks, and he holds back a laugh as the man does just that—completely forgetting about the drink he ordered. 

shaking his head, he lets you go—expecting you to scramble away from him and back to your stool. he feels himself cringe—he probably embarrassed you.

he’s worried when he realizes you’re still tethered to him by the fabric of his shirt. 

“hey,” he murmurs, trying to push you back gently to look at your face, “you alright, kid? you’re not hurt, are you?”

you let go of him, albeit reluctantly. you only move back far enough to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. he can only think of how close you are.

“Touya,” you rasp, cheeks flushed and looking at him through half-hooded eyes, “that was, um—really hot.”

he blinks at you, a little dumbfounded. his eyes rake over your face, trying to find the punchline somewhere. wholly anticipating you to snap out of it and laugh at him—to tell him what a fool he is for falling for such a cruel joke.

but your expression never changes, and he realizes at once that it’s one of desire. 

a shudder wracks up his spine. he pulls you toward him again, splaying his fingers across your back to feel the way it arches into him. he dips his head down, lips next to your ear. fighting a smirk at the way you shiver in his hold.

“come back to mine?”

you nod emphatically, and he’d tease you about it if he wasn’t feeling the same level of urgency. he throws a couple bills on the bar top and all but hauls you out the door. he has no idea what he’s doing, but he’s half out of his mind right now and can’t find it within himself to think it over before he does something he might regret. 

his own desire is nearly stifling, and he finds he can’t go another minute without something to satiate him, if only for a moment. he pulls you into the alley next to the bar, crowding you against the brick.

“you drunk?” he asks suddenly—slivers of rationality making it through the haze of such thick lust. you laugh a little, breathy and overwhelmed. he can see the puff of steam from your exhale between you in the cold. 

“not at all,” you murmur, reaching for him. you wrap a finger around one of his belt loops and pull him toward you—he knows with an unsettling certainty that he’d do whatever you asked him to right now. the knowledge burns him from the inside.

“tell me to stop,” his lips are only a breath away from yours, and yet he almost wishes you would tell him to stop, because he’s not sure what comes after this. he’s alarmed by the weight of his own need, and he has a hunch that whatever happens next may not be enough to quell it. 

he has the sudden and sobering thought that he may never get his fill of you. 

“no,” you breathe, and it’s all he needs to bridge the distance. he’s instantly overwhelmed by the soft warmth of your mouth, and lets out a quiet groan when he feels your tongue swipe at the seam of his. he opens his mouth to taste more of you, and he truly cannot get enough. you pull his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it gently, and he is nearly frantic when he pulls away from you. he feels absolutely debauched and a little humiliated—in his 40-some odd years, he’s never known himself to get so worked up over some kissing. 

“we need to go right now,” he rasps, panting against your mouth. he feels your smile against him and wants to swallow you whole. 

“lead the way, old man.”

he barely registers making it through the door—has no idea how he managed to unlock it, let alone open it—before he has you pressed up against it. to touch you like this feels foreign, and he wants to feel everything. after a moment, he gets impatient with himself. he grabs you around the backs of your thighs, hauling you up and carrying you to his bedroom. he has half a mind to thank Buck later, for not bounding between the two of you and ripping him from whatever trance you have him suspended in right now. 

he drops you onto the bed unceremoniously and is quick to follow, mouth chasing yours on the way down. you pull your shirt off and he helps you with your pants—he can’t help but pull back to marvel at you.

your demeanor changes immediately.

you're entirely too tense, breath hitching and your grip on his arms uncomfortably tight. he pulls back to look at you and you flinch. 

“jesus—the fuck are you so jumpy for?”

"i don't know!" you cross your arms over your chest with a huff, red when you look away from him. "maybe i just don't do this as often as you, okay?"

he snorts, rolling his eyes. "i don't do this often."

it’s not exactly the truth—because the truth is that he doesn't do this at all—but he's still got his pride. he’d been touched before, but mostly in his 20s and only when he was just shy of belligerent. only when he could go numb with the certainty that it would be over quickly and that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

no one could hold a flame to you, though—sprawled out underneath him, chest heaving and eyes hooded with unbridled desire. something about it makes him want to reach into the ether and stop time with his bare hands. he wants to savor every bead of sweat that rolls down the curve of your breast, every touch that makes your pupils dilate—the primal need to know takes over everything else.

“i just…” you start, lip jutting out with the tiniest pout. he feels insane. “i feel nervous.”

something inside him twists at your admission, and he finds himself wanting to comfort you. it’s a completely unfamiliar feeling, but he leans into it. 

"relax," he murmurs, unwinding your arms and replacing them with his full body weight, directly on top of you. you squeak, and he presses his smile into the crook of your neck. "don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

he feels you slump underneath him—however minutely—and it feels like a reward. and then your hips kick into his, and his brain short circuits. 

he pushes back onto his forearms to look at you, and he's endeared by the flush that creeps up your neck as you avoid his gaze. he finds it cute, how quickly you lay your ego down for him. that in itself is another reward, and one he doesn't take lightly.

you might be a little embarrassed under his stare, but that doesn't stop the roll of your hips. yours is a slow grind up into him and he meets you with one of his own, firm and demanding. your mouth drops open and the way you shudder under him pulls a groan from him. 

"feel good?" he rasps, sneaking a hand around the back of your neck and holding you there, nosing against your cheek until you turn to him.

"yes."

it's borderline pornographic when it leaves you and his hips stutter—he feels it buzzing underneath his skin as it pushes him closer to a place wholly unfamiliar. 

through his jeans, he's sure you can feel him—hot and aching against the flimsy material of your panties. he huffs a laugh against your lips—suddenly acutely aware of the possibility that he may cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. 

you seem to be aware of that, too. 

you kiss him hard and he nearly whines, and then he actually does when you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull. he reels back from you to catch his breath and you don't let him go very far. 

"you feel so good," murmured into his mouth, it's nearly his undoing. 

"you gotta stop," it sounds a lot like a plea when it leaves him, "i can't—i'm gonna—”

you hook a leg around his waist, keeping him pressed to you. he knows at once that he is well and truly fucked in a fundamental and totally unrelated way. 

"no," you drawl, and it's almost a coo in his ear, "i don't think i will."

he doesn't know when you took the upper hand and he doesn't even care. he's lost in the movement of your hips and he knows that there's a mess between you both—he hears the tacky click of damp fabric meeting with every grind into you. 

"you're—fuckin' wet," he grits out, and he's so close. the knowledge of your arousal has him curling in on himself.

you chuckle, like he's stating something so obvious. "how could i not be?"

he rewards you with a particularly sinful thrust, and you keen underneath him. 

"please," you arch into him, "want you to cum."

and he does just that—all the breath is battered out of him with the force of it. his cock throbs with every wave of release in his jeans and he keeps himself pressed snuggly to you, hips thrusting with no particular rhythm as he rides out the last of it. he keeps his face pressed into your neck and lets out a long, broken groan. he stays there—full body weight collapsed on top of you again—and it's a moment before he comes back to his senses enough to feel your fingers scratch over his scalp. 

"fucking hell," he presses a kiss to your throat and you giggle. it warms something inside of him that's hard to shake once it starts. he has the sneaking suspicion—in this fleeting moment of vulnerability—that it started well before now. 

he gathers his wits and pushes back from you. he sees the look on your face and finds that he couldn't go any farther than an arm's length away, even if he tried. 

adoration. it could only be that—you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and it twists in his gut. he doesn't understand—he's done so many wrong things. you look at him like they don't hang above his head—like you can't see them there.

what a sweet little thing that's found their way into his bed. and deeper than that, it seems. 

"want to taste you," he murmurs, leaning back down to drag his lips over the curve of your jaw. you draw in a shuddering breath, nodding, and it fans his ego immensely. 

he takes his time, then—there's intention behind every warm press of his mouth to every inch of your skin. he takes note of the way your breath hitches, and of what makes you squirm. you tip your head back with a moan when he catches a bead of sweat between the valley of your breasts with his tongue. 

you breathe out a whisper of his name when he latches on to the skin that stretches over your ribs, and he feels his own arousal swell again—sloshing around in his gut, thick and needing. he finds himself grinding his hips into the mattress below him—lazy, really. just enough to dull the ache. 

"hold on," you croak, and he looks up at you, "you’re too dressed."

he looks down at himself and realizes that you’re right—he’s still fully clothed. he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head at his own one track mind, and sits up to take care of it. 

he grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head in a fluid motion. he feels your gaze on him and feels a little bashful. he’s even quicker with the jeans—soiled and gross as they are now—shoving them down his hips and kicking them from his ankles until his clad in only his (also gross) boxers and leaning over you again. 

you reach for him, brushing your fingertips over the scar across his chest. he half expects you to pull away—to recoil from him like you should—but you don’t. 

“need you, Touya.”

he could just die. 

"s'that right?" he bends down to press another hot kiss to the skin that stretches between your hips. he fixates on the softness of it, and has to stop himself from nuzzling into it. he'd love to draw this out—to really get you pleading for him like he hopes you would, writhing and so wet underneath him. but his own patience nears its end, so he decides to be merciful. he shuffles down until he's eye level with the damp spot in your panties that makes him curse under his breath. 

"look at you," he breathes, dragging a finger through the mess. you let out a whine, arching to chase what little stimulation he's giving you. "poor thing. y'really do need it."

he doesn't wait for your response before his hooking a finger through the fabric and dragging it off of you. a string of your arousal stretches and snaps with it, and he commits the sight to memory. 

he wastes no time—he sticks his tongue out flat and drags it through your folds, groaning at the slick that coats it. 

"oh fuck," you wheeze, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair to keep him there.

as if you'd ever need to do that. 

he can't get enough of you. so swollen and sweet against his tongue, he's nearly out of his mind with the need for more of it. he dips the tip of his tongue inside you and feels you squeeze around it, and it's unbearable how badly he wants more of you. 

"Touya," you groan out, eyes squeezed shut tight as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks, "please—please don't stop—"

he thinks you're fucking insane for ever believing he would. he pulses his tongue against your clit and revels in the way your back arches as you wail—he reaches up to pinch a pebbled nipple between his heated fingers just to feel you.

"oh fuck, fuck fuck—" the words tumble out of your mouth, slurred and nearly incoherent as he flattens out his tongue and lets you chase your pleasure.

in the throes of it, you reach down to tangle your fingers between his own. he's not sure if you even know that you've done it, but the knowledge that you seek him out for such an innocent display comfort has his heart fluttering in his chest. he gives your nipple a particularly harsh tug with his other hand.

"oh i'm gonna cum—" you cry, hips stuttering with every drag of your sex over his tongue, "please, Touya, i'm gonna—"

he squeezes your fingers when you do, and you let out a sob that goes straight to his cock. he feels you tense up—every muscle rigid for only a moment—and then you let it go, and he's mesmerized. it moves through you violently, like waves crashing into the shore during a storm. he keeps your clit between his lips as you thrash, letting you buck against his face, dragging it out for as long as he can. 

he waits until he hears your breathing return to a semi-normal pace before he cleans you up—with his tongue, light and gentle through your folds, not wanting to waste any of the mess you reward him with. he forgets himself and slips his tongue inside of you—drinking up all of your slick. basking in the way you flutter around him and the sweet slide of you down his throat. he only comes back to himself when you start to tremble, whining at the overstimulation. 

he rests his head on the inside of your thigh and closes his eyes, breathing you in. never in his life has he ever felt so satiated by something—it confuses him, to get so much pleasure from you without you ever even touching him. he feels you squeeze his fingers and realizes he's still holding your hand. 

"you with me, kid?"

you sigh, stretching your free leg out. "think so, old man."

he untangles your fingers to rub at your leg, reaching down to knead at the muscles in your calf. you sigh, light and content, and it makes him smile. it's quiet between you then, and he's grateful that you don't feel the need to fill it. he pulls your leg over his shoulder, moving to massage the outside of your thigh. 

"good to me," you sigh sleepily, and he knows you're only a second from falling asleep. 

he doesn't answer—his throat suddenly feels too thick and he doesn't think he can—he just keeps rubbing your muscles gently until your breathing evens out. 

he finds that he doesn't mind being trapped between your legs like this. when he thinks he might even be able to fall asleep, he realizes for the second time that he's in far deeper than he thought he'd be.

he lets his eyes flutter closed and has a hard time thinking of anything wrong with that. 

there’s another shift, after that. the only person that seems to be oblivious to it is you. 

it’s not that you haven’t noticed, because of course you have. Touya becomes uncharacteristically touchy, literally overnight. you bask in it when you can, because you know it’s fleeting. 

that’s where you split off from, well—everyone else. 

“c’mon kid, you can’t honestly think that.”

you huff, glaring into your drink. Touya’s friends had jumped at the opportunity to heckle you the minute he stood up to go to the restroom. you find it endearing, the way they act like little old ladies, gossiping amongst themselves. 

“we’re not together,” you repeat, albeit bitterly, “it’s not like that for him.”

the friend closest to you barks out a laugh, and you pin him with your meanest stare. it only makes him laugh harder. he’s wiping tears from his eyes when Touya comes back, filling the space between you. 

it hurts tremendously to know that this is temporary, and you feel ridiculous for feeling that way. it’s not like it comes as a surprise—you knew very well that Touya wasn’t one for romance or love. you thought you could live with that, especially with the sex being as good as it is—but it was just so easy to believe the opposite was true, because he really was good to you. if you allowed yourself to forget, it was nothing at all to pretend he was because he wanted this, too. 

still—like a magnet, you’re drawn to him. you hop down from your stool to stand beside his, and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“you hungry?,” he turns to murmur into your hair, “i’ll get you fries or somethin’.”

“wow, fries” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “how chivalrous.”

you feel him grin. “wasn’t raised in a barn.”

it’s a bad joke. it lodges itself in your skin and makes you ache for him. you try not to dwell on it. 

“you could’ve fooled me.”  

he rolls his eyes back at you with a little tch, but it’s lighthearted. he slings his arm around your neck and pulls you closer until you’re pressed into the warmth of his side, and presses a kiss to your temple. 

“you know, most men would give up their seats for pretty women.” you tease, leaning into his touch. 

“let me know if you see one, then.” 

“hey!”

he laughs, brushing his lips against your forehead again before leaning back, patting his thigh. 

“c’mon then, pretty lady.”

you feel warm as you climb up into his lap, and when you settle in, it’s like a key inside of a lock. you pointedly ignore the knowing glance from the man to your right, choosing instead to feel every inch that connects you to Touya. it feels like a reward, to mold to him this well—like something you’re owed after trimming off every one of his prickly little thorns for as long as you have. you want to tell him so, but you know he’d clam up or shove you off of him. you keep your feelings where they simmer under your skin and focus on the way his hand trails over the curve of your hip—back and forth, like he means to soothe, but his warmth feels like a brand. you close your eyes and imagine a reality in which he does it because he loves you.  

“you alright?”

it sounds odd, coming from him—like he’s not used to asking the question. you suppose he’s not—he’s never had anyone to check up on. he reaches to brush a strand of hair from your face, and his fingers linger over your brow bone.

you’d been quiet since you left the bar—you’d followed him back to his house with an uncharacteristically little amount of banter. you’d been pliant as he pulled you down on the bed with him—nearly boneless and without so much as a teasing bite on the way down. 

despite yourself, you feel your eyes start to burn. you let out a clipped curse, blinking rapidly and looking pointedly away from him—hoping he wouldn’t press you about it. 

he does. 

“hey, hey,” he says softly, reaching to grab your chin with warm, calloused fingers and turning you to face him, “what’s goin’ on?” 

his blatant concern makes it worse—drives the knife a little deeper into your side—because it’s so starkly different (and far more intimate) from the Touya you started with. it only serves as a reminder of your original suspicion having long been confirmed—that he cares for you because he’s good. not because he loves you. not because he feels this unbearable, aching need that you do. you know there’s no escaping him now—he’s seeded himself somewhere deep in your chest and taken root. when his thumb brushes down over the curve of your jaw, you know that there’s no stopping the words that are about to come out of your mouth. 

“i love you,” the tears crest and fall, and you ache when he brushes them away before they can slip down your temples, “i’m really sorry.”

you’re a little surprised when you see his eyebrows knit together slightly in an emotion that’s definitely not the overt and immediate dismay you thought it would be, but you close your eyes before you can see anything else—before you can watch him pull away from you, genuinely and for the last time. 

you go rigid when you feel his forehead knock into yours, gently and only for an instant. 

“s’that such a bad thing?”

your eyes snap open, and you think the sight might kill you—he’s open and giving you everything with a willingness that makes your breath stutter in your chest. he has his head propped up on his hand to look at you, and it’s almost enough to disarm you completely. 

“don’t be cruel if you’re going to leave,” you hear yourself plead, despite what you’re seeing. he only snorts. 

“and what makes you so sure i’ll do that?”

“i know that you don’t do this shit.”

he smiles at that—a little thing that stretches across his face slow. it amuses him to hear you swear. 

“you’re right,” he murmurs, reaching to brush his fingers over your jaw again. holding you there so gently that it aches. “i don’t. s’different now, though.” 

you blink at him through the sting in your eyes, more confused than anything. he lets out a slow sigh, but it’s not in frustration. 

“you’re stuck to me now,” he says with such a fondness that you feel the words stick themselves to your bones, “m’not going anywhere.”

“i’m not trapping you here, Touya—“

“you’re not,” he agrees, with more patience than he’s ever afforded you. something starts to click in your mind, but for some reason, you find yourself fighting it. 

“you don’t—you’re not—“

“hey,” he cuts you off with a flick to your forehead, “listen to what i’m tellin’ you.”

“it’s…hard. for me.” he says after thinking for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again like he’s trying to make up the words from scratch. “i‘m used to bein’ alone. never really thought about anybody else.”

you’re silent then, mostly stunned, because you don’t think he’s ever said so many words to you. not like this. 

“i’m outta my depth here, kid,” it’s nearly whispered and it feels sacred, like a confession between you. you’re suddenly very aware that he’s giving you something that he’s parting with for the first time in his life. “but i can’t think about ya anywhere but here now. makes me feel a little sick.” 

you reach for him then—tentative fingertips brushing over the rapid fluttering of his heart. he gathers them in his hand and holds you there. 

“i might not be any good at this. but i’d like to try.” 

his words hit your ears one at a time, like coins slotted into a carnival game—they reach your mind with a heavy clink and only when the last one drops in do you really hear him. he’s no casanova, but you understand the sentiment under his words as if he’d spoken it aloud. 

you close your eyes and draw in one more shuddering breath, and it knocks loose the last of your reservations. you turn on your side, facing him fully, meeting the blue of his eyes with a slow smile that makes them narrow at you in suspicion. 

“jeez. you didn’t have to go all soft on me.”

he scoffs, shaking his head. “glad to have you back, you fuckin’ brat.” 

you laugh and he chases the sound, leaning forward until your foreheads knock together again. this time, he stays put. 

“tell me again,” he murmurs, and your heart balloons inside your chest. 

“i love you.”

epilogue—1 year later

Touya trudges up the steps to your apartment after finishing up at your grandparents’. you’d think he’d agreed to remodel the whole house, with how often they call him over now. 

he had a hunch that he wasn’t really there just to make repairs, and he didn’t mind. he knew how much your family meant to you, and he’d be lying if he said they weren’t growing on him, too.

“you bring our girl over here to see us,” the old bat called after him as he walked out the door, “don’t let her work herself to death.”

he was quick to agree, because his concerns were similar—you’d gotten busy as the weather started to warm with the first hint of spring, and you did not appear to be particularly skilled at taking breaks or prioritizing yourself. predictable, but no less annoying. 

walking up the steps to the home you now share, he looks down at the squirming thing in his arms and lets out a sigh. 

it didn’t take much convincing for him to agree to move in. he got to see you everyday (which allowed him to ensure you were, at the very least, feeding yourself) and Buck was over the moon at living in a new space if that meant he could be with you all the time. he couldn’t find a reason to say no (and he really, really didn’t want to), so it was easy to say yes. the smile you gave him when he agreed is imprinted on his heart. 

“babe? you here?”

you call to him in response from the kitchen, not looking up at him when he walks in—you’re hunched over the counter in front of your laptop, going through orders while Buck lays at your feet. he makes no move to greet Touya—in fact, the only acknowledgement Buck spares him is a few thuds of his tail against the tile. Touya narrows his eyes at him. traitor.

“hi,” you murmur, turning your body like you’re going to look at him—except you don’t actually look away from the computer.

“hi,” he grins, not moving in to kiss you like he usually does. waiting for you to turn to him. 

“what did Mam need—oh.”

you’re finally looking at him—except you’re not really looking at him at all, because your eyes are focused on the shivering thing in his arms. 

you look at it, and to him, and then back to it. you’re quiet for a beat, clearly trying to process, and then the thing nearly jumps out of his arms when you throw your head back and laugh.

“what the hell is that—” you say through a wheeze, wiping your eyes on your sleeve,  “Touya—oh my god—where did you get that?”

you close the proximity between you—finally, he thinks—and he bends to kiss your temple when you take the chihuahua from his arms. instantly Buck is on his feet, sniffing the air but otherwise content just to look at the dog in your arms. Touya feels relief at the non-reaction—you really had taught his dog some manners. 

“the fuckin’ thing was rooting around in the trash,” he mutters, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “figured you’d be mad at me if i left ‘im there.”

you roll your eyes and he knows you know it’s a lie—he wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he’d left the dog there. 

“are we keeping him?” you ask absentmindedly, scratching his tiny head. it works to subdue him—the shaking stops (mostly) and he lets out a little huff before relaxing in your hold. it makes you smile, and Touya thinks he’d fill this whole fucking house with chihuahuas if it meant he could see it again. 

“do y’want to?”

you let out a stray chuckle, finally looking up at him. “i guess he’d fit, won’t he?”

he feels the grin stretch across his face. “i don’t know. it’d be a tight squeeze.”

you snort, reaching with your free hand to poke at his ribs. “you have to name him, you know.”

“fuck,” he groans dramatically, pulling another giggle from you, “fine. what about…” he trails off, wracking his brain and looking around the kitchen, praying for even a semblance of inspiration. he sees your half-eaten lunch on the counter, and he thinks about the moldy cold cut he’d had to wrestle out of the little shit’s surprising tight grip—

“lunch meat.”

“...i’m sorry?”

“his name is lunch meat.”

you laugh at that, and the sound reverberates off every cell in his body. 

“it’s a good thing we’re not having kids,” you say through a giggle, “they’d have the worst names.”

he grins at you and you just shake your head, cooing to the tiny dog in your arms. Touya peels himself from you, settling against the counter just to watch. the other surprise—the one he’d actually planned—involved a fancy dinner in the next town over, because it is your anniversary, after all—but right now it feels like he has nothing but time, and to do anything but stand here and feel every second with you would feel like a waste.

this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.    

[sapphichotmess]

All I Do Is Dream of You

Ellie Williams x plus size!f!reader (not really specified, but that’s what I write)

Name inspired by Dodie’s song All I Do Is Dream of You

Even though this is not 18+, I am an 18+ blog, mdni

continuation of this

Warnings/Tags: horrendous writing with very little dialogue (bc idk how to human), fluff, reader wears makeup, reader is able-bodied, reader is right-handed

PLS COMMENT & RB FOR ME PLS

thanks for reading this for me babe @les4elliewilliams u deserve to be fucked so good <3

It has been several days since you were literally knocked off of your feet by one Ellie Williams. And every day since then has been better than the last. You two have been texting non-stop, giddily giggling into your phones with warm cheeks at all hours of the day. 

All it took was one meeting, and you were utterly captivated by the adorably dog-like auburn-haired woman, her presence—even if only by phone—filling your heart with a warmth you couldn't explain. 

You can’t get the woman out of your head, always seeing her pale green eyes piercing into you when you close yours. And don’t get you started on her adorable smile, her lips quirking up and parting, showcasing a slight bit of white teeth. You groan, staring into the mirror on your desk, right hand holding eyeliner up though doing nothing to put any on. All you can think of is the way her cheeks flushed adorably, highlighting the smattering of freckles on her face. You want to trace them—learn the pattern to a T. Learn everything about her, really. 

Your daydreaming is disrupted by the buzzing of your phone which is sat face-down on your bedspread, music blaring from it’s tiny-but-mighty speakers. You drop the eyeliner you were using to make the wing on your eye, drawing a black line down your cheek in your haste. Socked feet making gentle thudding on the hardwood floor, you reach your bed in record time. With your heart racing, you swiftly pick up your phone and flip it over to see the notification. It's another message from Ellie; the sight of her name sends a wave of excitement through you, your heart dropping from your chest out of your ass and a warm flush tickling your cheeks. With trembling fingers, you open the message, eager to see what she has to say. 

Ellie's message pops up on your screen, and you can't help but grin as you read her words:

heyyy you! just wanted to say hi and see how your day is going. i've been thinking about you bunches today. craving one of those bomb cupcakes you whip up... you know, those red ones with the fucking insane frosting? the one i had the other day?

Not bothering to wait more than a few seconds, you quickly type out a response, unable to hide your own excitement:

hi ellie! literally made my day hearing from you fr ❤️ 

you send one text, instantly starting on another:

oh, the red velvet ones? i won’t be making those in the shop for a bit… BUT i can totally open the bakery on an off day and make a batch for you?

Happy with your words, you go to sit down your phone again, butterflies swooping around aggressively in your stomach, but before you do, it’s vibrating in your hand. 

It was Ellie reacting to your first message with a heart. She must have been waiting for your reply—or you were being a horrible loser and texting back too fast. Shaking your head at that thought, you watch as the texting bubble appears, heart racing as you wait for her reply. 

You can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of Ellie's response. Was she as eager to continue the conversation as you were? Or perhaps she had something else in mind? With bated breath, you wait for her message to come through, the seconds feeling like an eternity as your mind races with all the possibilities of what she might say. The anticipation only adds to the butterflies swirling in your stomach, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Finally, Ellie's response comes through, and you eagerly read her message:

DUDE, no way! opening the bakery just for us? that's fucking awesome! i'm so down to hang out with you, especially if it means i get to devour those bomb-ass cupcakes. hit me up whenever you're free!

A grin spreads across your face as you read her words, your heart soaring with happiness. It seems Ellie is just as excited about the idea as you are, and the thought of spending time together fills you with warmth. It would be the first time you guys would meet face-to-face since your first encounter. 

Fuck you couldn't wait to bask in the magnificence of her; her being in your space, filling her lungs with the very same air you breathe. 

You are in trouble if these thoughts are an indication of anything. 

Quickly typing out your reply, you suggest a few possible dates and times for your cupcake date, hoping that one of them will work for both of you. Positively beaming, eyes glimmering with youthful mirth, you finally set down your phone and turn on your sock-clad heels to head back toward your vanity. You make it halfway before you remember what day it is.

The bakery is closed. 

You could see Ellie today. 

Then, you’re slipping against the hardwood, trying to get back to the bed as quick as possible. You finally get your footing after sliding around and almost ending up on your ass, practically flying toward your bed and divebombing onto the soft mattress. Your phone bounces with the impact as you scramble to get to your knees and grab it from mid-air. Somehow, you end up on your back with your phone smashed onto your nose. 

Ouch. That's definitely going to leave a mark.

You grab your phone, scrubbing a hand at your sore nose. After the shock of the hit has left, you regain your urgentness, unlocking your phone, bringing up the messages app, and clicking on your and Ellie’s chat. 

Your fingers move at what seems like the speed of light as you type out a new message: 

so, um, funny thing... i was thinking, and why wait for your cupcakes when you could have them today? how about you swing by the bakery this afternoon?

Thinking for a second, you quickly send a second text:

we can even bake them together! how does that sound?

Nausea creeps up on you as you wait, heart racing and dry eyes staring at your messages to Ellie for several minutes without a text bubble. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a bubble appears on the screen, only to disappear just as quickly. This pattern repeats a few times, leaving you on edge.

But then, finally, Ellie's response lights up your screen:

i'm so down for a baking session at the bakery. what time should i be there? 

A wave of relief washes over you as you read Ellie's enthusiastic reply—though you are confused as to why it took her so long to come up with this response. With a wide grin, you quickly type back the details, feeling excitement building in the pit of your stomach. 

Finally having that done, you put your phone back on the bed—hopefully for the last time for a while. Then, you finally sit back down at your vanity, ready to finish your makeup for the day. When you look in the mirror, your smile falters and your mouth hangs open in disbelief. 

There is a long, thick black line running across your cheek. 

“Fuck.” 

***

You’re just setting up everything you need for red velvet cupcakes when you hear the front doorbell ring. Your head snaps up so fast you’re surprised you don’t break your neck. However, any pain is worth seeing Ellie walk into your bakery looking so damn fine. 

The olive-skinned girl is wearing a pair of blue jeans that fit her ass nicely, a grey t-shirt, and a burnt-red flannel that looks well-loved with tearing seams and fading colors. Her shoulder-length auburn hair is pulled into a half-up, half-down look, with some stray hairs framing her face. Your hands itch to push them behind her ears, even standing at the distance you are. 

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you set the pan you had in your hands onto the counter with a clatter, causing Ellie to start. Making your way towards the front of the store where Ellie stands with hands in her pockets, you call out her name.  

"Ellie!" You greet her with a wide grin, unable to contain your excitement at seeing her—even if it was planned just short of an hour ago. 

“Ah, uh… Hey!” the freckled girl stutters out. “I… it’s good to see you?” 

“Was that a question?” you ask, hiding your smile behind your hand. 

“Uh, no?” Ellie says before realizing that she phrased her response as a question, too. “I mean, no. No, it wasn’t a question. I, um, I am excited to see you.” 

You can't help but find Ellie's nervousness adorable as she stumbles over her words. Suppressing a giggle, you offer her a reassuring smile, eyes crinkling on the edges. "Well, I'm excited to see you too," you reply warmly, noting the faint blush creeping up on her cheeks.

As Ellie's gaze drifts somewhere behind you and she nervously swipes her hand over her nose, you realize just how nervous she must be feeling. Wanting to ease her discomfort, you gently reach out and place a hand on her arm—holy shit, you didn’t realize she was strong, but you can feel her muscles under her flannel. "Hey, it's okay. No need to be nervous," you say softly, trying to ignore your thoughts about what she could do with that strength. "We're just here to have fun and bake some delicious cupcakes together."

Ellie’s green eyes finally meet yours again, though a crease forms between her eyebrows as she does. “I just, ah… you’re, like, stupidly pretty. And, you know, it’s really distracting.” Ellie's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red as she confesses, her final words coming out in a rush.

Your heart skips a beat at Ellie's unexpected compliment, and a warm flush of pleasure spreads through you. "Wow, thank you," you reply. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."

Ellie’s eyes widen in surprise at your compliment, her right hand coming back up to shuffle across her nose. “Ah, thank you?” 

Giggling at her utter lack of words or charm, you grab her hand as it falls from in front of her face. “C’mon! We have so much to do. I’m so excited to teach you how to bake!” you say in a high-pitched voice, obviously excited. 

Pulling her by the—fucking giant—hand to the back of the bakery where you do all the… well, baking, you continue, “I’m almost done setting up everything for us. There are a few ingredients I have to pull out since I wasn’t gonna be using them, but it shouldn’t be too long until we can start.” 

“I—oh,” Ellie lets out a strangled breath as she is suddenly dragged by you into the back room. “That’s okay. I’m just, uh, really excited for the cupcakes.” 

As you lead Ellie towards the back of the bakery, you can't help but chuckle at her adorable awkwardness. "Don't worry, I promise it'll be fun," you reassure her, looking behind you with a warm smile. "And don't worry about being nervous. Baking is all about having a good time and enjoying the process."

Ellie nods once, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm sure it'll be great," she says, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Reaching the back room, you release Ellie's hand and gesture towards the kitchen area. "Here we are," you say, motioning for her to take a seat on one of the chairs you pulled back here from the dining room. "Make yourself comfortable while I grab the rest of the ingredients."

As you rummage through the cabinets and pull out the remaining ingredients needed for the cupcakes, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of teaching Ellie how to bake. Getting to spend any time with the adorably awkward, puppy-like freckle-faced girl was a blessing, but getting to do your favorite thing with her? It’s a dream come true. 

Returning to the counter with an armful of ingredients, you grin at Ellie. "Alright, let's get started," you say eagerly. “First up, we have to… turn on the oven,” you stumble in the middle of your sentence as you get lost looking at Ellie’s tanned face, trying to memorize the placement of her paint-splattered freckles so that you could imagine her going do—that isn’t what today is about.

Ellie nods once, standing to her feet. “Sounds easy enough.” 

As Ellie stands up, hands on her knees to help her get up, you can't help but admire the way her eyes sparkle with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she looks at you. Holy shit, she’s looking at you. "Great!" you exclaim, shaking off your momentary distraction—for the hundredth time—and focusing on the task at hand. "Let's get this show on the road."

Together, you and the freckle-faced girl move towards the oven, your hands brushing against each other as you reach for the knob. Heat crawling up your neck and over the apples of your cheeks, you quickly move your hand and turn the knob to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, the soft hum of the oven heating up filling the air.

Still hot in the face, you turn toward Ellie, "Okay, next step, cupcake pans," you say, gesturing toward the neatly lined trays on the counter. With Ellie by your side, arms brushing, you grab the pans and place them on the counter, ready to put the liners in. 

As you work, you steal glances at Ellie, admiring her focused expression as she carefully places each cupcake liner in its designated spot like it’s some kind of science experiment that could go wrong. Her tongue slightly sticking out of her plump lips in concentration is definitely cuter than it should be. 

What you weren’t ready for was to have the auburn-haired girl turn her head and look at you as you distractedly stared at her, unable to shake the image of her soft, freckled cheeks, long, slender fingers, and strong arms from your mind. 

Caught off guard by Ellie's piercing green gaze, you feel your heart skip a beat as you quickly avert your eyes. Clearing your throat, you focus on the task at hand, determined to maintain composure.

"Um, so, uh, yeah," you stammer, trying to regain your train of thought. "Looks like we're all set with the cupcake pans." You can practically feel the heat radiating from your cheeks as you turn back to the task, hoping to distract yourself from the intensity of Ellie's gaze.

With a shaky hand, you reach for the extra cupcake liners, trying to steady your nerves as you carefully place them back in a stack, ready for you to put away later. 

When you're done—and your hands aren’t shaking anymore—you finally drag your gaze back to Ellie. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize she is still looking at you. Her green gaze—what you can only describe as a moss-covered forest bathed in warm, sparkling sunlight—feels like taking a knife to the heart, her head tilt—so dog-like—a sucker punch to the gut. You want her eyes on you forever—to bask in the warmth of her eyes and bathe in the depths of her soul—you realize as your heart tries to beat out of your chest. 

Somehow, you find it within yourself to tear your eyes away from Ellie’s; it’s one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, and you run a bakery by yourself. Clearing your throat and staring at the prepped pans, you say, “Ah, um, we can start making the batter now, I guess.” 

Ellie doesn’t hold in her laugh at your obvious discomfort, her melodic laughter filling the room with a warmth that soothes your frayed nerves. Despite the embarrassment of being caught in a moment of vulnerability, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you at the sound of her laughter.

"Yeah, let's get started on that batter," Ellie says, her voice laced with amusement as she reaches for the ingredients on the counter. “What do we start with, pretty girl?”

“I–uh, holy shit…”

The freckled girl laughs even harder at your stunned expression, mouth hanging open and eyebrows raised. “Close your mouth, or you’ll catch flies,” she says, lips quirked up as she nudges your chin with her hand. 

Her hand on you gets your mind racing in all different directions before you remember where you are. Snapping your gaping mouth shut, teeth clacking together, you gather yourself. “Uh yeah… we have to, ah… start with the dry ingredients.” 

Ellie hums a “Mhmm” out, mouth still curved in a cocky smile as she tilts her head again—her stupidly pretty auburn hair catching the midday light filtering in from the window—leaning her hip against the counter. 

“We have to shift the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking powder, and baking soda together into… this large bowl.” you point at every ingredient when you name them, picking up the stainless steel bowl when you find it.

“Sounds easy enough.” 

This time, it’s you who hums an answer as you put the bowl down and grab the ingredients to start measuring. “If I measure, would you shift, Ellie?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” she gives you a little salute. 

So, as you hand over every measured dry ingredient, Ellie shifts it into the bowl. Her tongue makes another appearance as she focuses on getting every ingredient into the bowl with no spillage, causing you to overfill the ¼ teaspoon of baking soda. You quickly get the right amount into the teaspoon and clean up your mess, wiping your hands on your apron. 

“Okay, now that’s done, we have to add the salt and whisk everything together.” 

Ellie reaches for the salt, adding it to the bowl as you grab the whisk. She slides the bowl over to you, watching intently as you whisk. It’s one of the most mundane, boring parts of the baking process, yet she looks so entranced by the whisk circling the bowl, mixing the ingredients together. 

Once everything is thoroughly mixed, you tap the whisk on the bowl and set it aside, putting your hands on your hips and turning towards the girl leaning casually on your counter. “Can I trust you with a knife?” 

“Wh–I–Yes!” She splutters, eyebrows raised. 

Giggling quietly to yourself, hand over your mouth, you shake your head. Dropping your hand, you say, “Sorry, I just had to ask. I need you to cut the butter if you could, please.”

“How could I say no to those puppy dog eyes, hmm?” 

This time, it’s you who splutters, caught off guard. Instead of deigning the tease with a response, you turn your back to Ellie, hiding your burning face and grabbing the stand mixer you equipped with a paddle attachment. When that’s set up, and you can feel the burning embarrassment leave your face, you turn to Ellie, who is wielding a knife, cutting the room-temperature butter into uneven pieces. 

“Babe, it’s gotta be more uniform than that.”

Ellie’s head snaps up, eyebrows furrowed, pupils blown wide, and knife almost cutting into her fingers. “Wh–what did you just call me?”

Caught in a moment of panic, you freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to come up with a plausible explanation. The air feels thick with tension, every second stretching out into an eternity as you search for the right words to say. You hadn’t even realized you said it; it came so naturally, calling the auburn-haired girl babe. “I… nothing, nothing at all,” you spit out quickly, eyes going wide. 

“Nah-uh, you called me ‘babe.’” A loud clattering sound makes you startle, your eyes moving from Ellie’s piercing greens to the knife that just hit the countertop. 

"I… I didn't mean to," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "It just… slipped out."

Ellie's gaze remains fixed on you, you can feel it like a weight on your skin, pinning you in place as you struggle to regain your composure.

“Look at me,” she demands. You follow her directions immediately, your gaze taking in her expression. She looked almost dazed with a quizzical brow as she scratched her head.

"I'm sorry," you continue, your words tumbling out in a rush. "It was just a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear."

For a moment, the silence hangs heavy between you, broken only by the sound of your own rapid breathing. And then, without warning, Ellie's features soften, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"It's okay," she says softly, her voice like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. 

As Ellie's soft smile spreads across her face, her pearly whites making an appearance, a sense of relief washes over you like a warm embrace. Your shoulders drop from where they had taken a place beside your ears, and tension leaks out of you like butter in a baking croissant. The weight that had been pressing down on you lifted away like a heavy fog dispersing in the morning sun.

"Thanks," you murmur, gratitude lacing your words as you meet Ellie's gaze once more. Her eyes hold a warmth that makes your heart flutter, a silent reassurance that everything is okay between you.

With a playful glint in her eye, Ellie leans closer, her voice a soft whisper falling from her plump lips that sends shivers down your spine. "You know," she says, her tone teasing, "I don't mind being called babe."

Your heart skips a beat at her words.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you lean in, unable to resist the magnetic pull of Ellie's presence. "Good to know," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll try to remember that for next time."

As the last of the tension melts away like butter as it’s baked into the delicious treats you make, you and Ellie dive into the joyful task of baking red velvet cupcakes together. With each step of the recipe, you find yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm, working seamlessly together as if you've been doing this for years.

The scent of cocoa and vanilla fills the air as you and Ellie chat and laugh, exchanging stories and getting to know each other on a deeper level. From childhood memories to dreams for the future, you two open your hearts and minds to each other. 

As the cupcakes bake in the oven, you steal glances at Ellie, admiring the way her eyes light up when she talks about her passions and the infectious laughter that bubbles up from within her. 

And when the cupcakes are finally cooled and ready, their red tops gleaming with perfection, you and Ellie decorate the cupcakes with swirls of cream cheese frosting and a sprinkle of red velvet crumbs together, playfully bumping shoulders and laughing at Ellie’s attempts at decorating. 

As you sit down to enjoy the fruits of your labor, savoring each bite of the moist, decadent cupcakes, you realize that this is just the beginning of a beautiful friendship—and perhaps something more. 

[luffyvace]

omg i literally love ur blog can i just have luffy zoro and ace x male amab reader hcs like just do whatever u want

Thank you lots dear!! I’m so happy to hear you appreciate my work!! 💞

Just as you requested~…

Luffy!! 🏴‍☠️⚓️

Luffy is the main one who doesn’t care abt gender. No. He’s the KING. (The pirate king 😉) so its pretty much just gonna sound like I’m writing regular hcs for him but keep in mind it’s amab <3

i might end up mentioning it once or twice tho idk

but let me say this, if you change your gender he’s gonna get it right? “Oh so you’re a girl now?” (Example) But this dude cannot comprehend the more “complex” umbrellas of sexuality and romantic attractions. “You’re non-binary..? What’s that? /… / ohhh so your basically neither? Oh okay! what does that do?”

HELP 😂😅

At the end of the day just say you’re like Bon-Chan and he’ll figure out it’s something like that! I mean Bon Clay himself said he borders along genders and Luffy had absolutelyyyy……...no reaction! 😲👏👏👏

so overall it’s kinda the same with you 😅

not in a mean way ofc!! If you didn’t come out before you met the strawhats and you finally do, all you have to do is explain it takes a lot of courage and effort to come out sometimes, and he’ll be more than happy to party and celebrate with you! ☺️💖

It’s practically canon that Luffy drags you everywhere. Like it’s just inevitable accept your fate 🙏

Luffy shows affection of all sorts! The main being hugs, quality time and occasional gifts <3

You’re the main one who has to answer Luffy’s weird and random (-sometimes dumb) questions! 😆👏👏👏

“If frogs can breathe in the water AND air can they breathe in the ground too??? what about in mud?! 😆”

“If I taped a banana peel back together do you think a monkey would get confused when there’s no banana in it? Shishishishishi!! I’m gonna go try it out!” 🏃

“If you slide down a rainbow will your butt be rainbow or would you just erase the rainbow?”

Luffy takes you on adventures no matter how dangerous it is 🤪

Luffy really is trying to be thoughtful when he does things for you. He just ends up messing around and, well- messing things up! Like how he tried to bake you a cake in the middle of the night since Sanjiwould never let him in the day! 😊 (The kitchen almost burned down. Franky had to repair it 😬)

Luffy was banned from a number of things after that but he did make you a mud pie! He used to make them all the time when he was younger and he figured you’d like one! Here ya go! 😃👍

Luffy and you barely have and slow and relaxing moments but when you do it’s very comforting. Usually in the middle of the night during a rare occasion that Luffy ate enough so he doesn’t get up for snacks or adventure

but you get up, and you see how calm and peaceful he looks while sleeping. You lovingly observe his face for a bit before going back to sleep <3

Luffy always has to have you around when he eats. if your far away and he sees you, he pulls you close with his stretchy limbs. even if you are close he’ll basically have you in a literal choke hold as he balloons from overeating 😅😭

he burps, laughs, kisses you on the temple and keeps eating. In that order. 💕

Luffy will obv still eat if your not around but as soon as your in sight he’s pulling you over

It’s the best feeling ever to be surrounded by both food and YOU!! Double whammy! 🤪🙏

Zoro!! ⚔️🗡️

Zoro isn’t really all that much softer or tougher based off gender other than him going easy on women

so your relationship is pretty laid back unless your very loud with your affections

he’s very casual and shows his love subconsciously in little ways. He’s not insecure so he doesn’t feel the need to go out of his way and show it, he just thinks it’s an automatic thing you both know is there.

Which, it should be right? Otherwise why would you have accepted his confession?

And since this is amab he’d be pretty down if you changed from your original gender

doesn’t make or break anything for him 👌

The number one thing he cares about in a relationship is loyalty tbh. Like it’s so obvious that it’s important to him by the way he’s so loyal to Luffy.

on that note he’s just as loyal to you as he is to Luffy so rest assured 👍

his no. 1 love language is quality time bc it’s really causal and not lovey dovey n stuff yk? You could even do it in public and no one would question! It’s not embarrassing at all and is a normal thing to do, so it’s perfect in this relationship!

Actually finds cuddles rather enjoyable but like idk how to explain it? Not in a cuddle way?? (Then how brook 🗿) IDK!! 😭🗣️

no but fr tho (😭) he wouldn’t mind if you just so happened to get tangled up with him while sleeping yk? It’s just kinda warm (not that he would ever have problems with being cold from all that muscle and previous training while frigid 🗿) and I have a feeling he would like skin to skin contact- only when your relaxing tho

the only gifts you really ever bring him is new swords and beer 🍻 cuz what else is going through his head? 🤷‍♀️

wont force you to train with him but kinda will 😲

like you just have to! How else are you gonna get stronger? 🤨

at the least he don’t gotta worry abt Sanji swooning over you cuz the crew obv know you were born a man! y’all are super close! That way sanji won’t be attracted to you (not in a bad way like the okama/island of women situation- 😀 your relationship with Sanji is more like chopper/luffy/usopp depending on your personality)

Another thing Zoro does is seek you out. Which is ironic cuz he’s always getting lost.

you either gotta keep him close, go with him or wait til you meet up later 💃

if you’ve been together a while he’s grateful when you clean his swords for him. He always makes sure to keep up with they’re hygiene (better than his own) but when you happen to beat him to it he feels a sense of pride?

I guess maybe cuz it’s like “hmph! 😼 my s/o is cleaning my swords for me”

Ace!! 🔥❤️‍🔥

Ace is the most aware ? (Idk how to word it) If you change your gender. He knows all the terms n such, mostly cuz I feel like out of ALL THOSE DARN PIRATES- you mean to tell me not ONE of them is QUEER?! 🤨😐 I DONT THINK SOOOOO 🗣️🗣️

he’s very supportive and anyone who doesn’t want to be turned into pot roast better be too! ☺️

I hc him as Bi but if your something other than a man or woman you just broke the scale cuz your mans no longer cares 🤷‍♀️

he doesn’t date for gender anyway, he dates for genuine love ❤️

especially since he was deprived of it til his brothers & WBP (before then was too unstable)

also! I said “date” but tbh I don’t think he dated anyone before you soooo :T

tbh idk if Marco knows how to do top/bottom surgery but if he doesn’t Ace will def help you find someone who does‼️

you could probably even ask around on the ship to see who others got they’re surgeries from!! <3

btw if your not trans that’s just fine too 😊

like I said it’s not about gender its about YOU.

cuz hot dang. 😜

GET IT? HOT DANG?! (LOLL it was funnyyyy cmon guys laugh 😭)

fine back to your hcs 🙁

Ace isn’t necessarily clingy he just likes to be around you. He loves the natural love he feels when he’s around you. He could spend all day doing absolutely nothing with you and he would be 100% fulfilled.

wym you wasted today lazying around?! Today was a great day!! 😁

Ace’s main love languages are acts of service and quality time. He’ll do any thing reasonable (and probably unreasonable too) that you ask of him!

whenever one of the WBP are looking for one of you they either ask the opposite of who they’re looking for, bc you always know where the other is- OR try and find both of you cuz your always together 😂💞

Ace loves making you laugh, he thinks it’s such a wonderful melody. Not even in a cheesy way, it just makes him happy the same way hearing your fav character’s laugh makes you happy!

He tickles you randomly and you have all our tickle wars. So unless you’re looking for it to go on for the next 2 days (or longer) til one of you end it by calling uncle, prepare to be laughing a wholeeee lot! 🤗

Ace always seems to be smiling around you. Technically he’s always smiling, but you hardly catch him with even a straight face when your in his perimeter

He yaps abt you to EVERYONE. They’re not sick of him tho cuz your awesome and he’s great at storytelling + he never says the same thing twice but BRO-

anytime he makes a new friend, they’re practically YOUR new friend too by the time you meet them bc they already love you from hearing all sorts of stories abt you!! 🤗💝

he does this with both you and Luffy :)

Ace has a tendency to forget things so he writes down any important dates you tell him about on his calendar and starts planning ahead of time for them.

happy or sad! He has your birthday and anniversary memorized, but if something traumatic happened around a certain time and he knows you’ll feel sad on that day (a parental death, for example) then he plans something to keep you distracted, happy or even something to help you feel better! Helping start to heal from it ❤️‍🩹 yk? Something that may bring you peace and put you at ease 💖

Ace feels whatever you feel, but tweaked a bit. If you’re feeling sad he’s angry at whatever makes you sad. If you’re happy he’s ecstatic! If your angry he’s livid, if your disgusted- well, in this case he might find it funny 😂🤦‍♀️

I don’t think he’d be disgusted of very many things so he doesn’t exactly feel you on that one- But!! You get the point! 💓

Ace loves going on adventures with you and causing chaos. Bothering Marco, Izo, Jozu, thatch, Vista and even Whitebeard- LOL 😃

bro is the fearless one 🗿

it’s nothing that would get them seriously angry ofc but he would love if you joined him on his antics

just don’t pin it against him. You WILL start a war. I hope your not stubborn bc unless you admit you were wrong and do what he wants for a whole day to make up for it- it’ll never end 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

he gets you when you least expect it. Still harmless, ofc, you’re his fav!! 😊 (⬇️)

BUT THIS MEANS WAAAR!! 👹

Your so real for requesting these 3 together

AND I GOT LUFFY ZORO AND ACE I CALL THEM THE TRIPLE THREAT‼️🗣️

If ykyk..

[cummin-n-cryin]

Idia x female reader

Where there eating pomegranates and he wonders if she’s sweater then pomegranates?

Fluff to nsfw

Can the reader be a virgin

Sub reader

Soulmate au

~Thank you for your request!

The Sweetest Taste

MINORS / BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Idia Shroud x fem!reader

Tw: lil angst at the beginning, virgin reader no mentions of hymen stuff, Idia is implied to be a virgin, afab reader, NSFW, idk what else

Wordcount: 2,700

Side Note: Sry this took so long! I wasn't quite sure which soulmate au you were talking about as the only one I rly know of is the red string of fate version so I'll be going with that sry. I hope this was ok! (; ^⁠ω⁠^)

~Idia Shroud~

Idia had given up a long time ago on finding his soulmate.

A red string wrapped around his finger. It led off somewhere far into the horizon and on the other end, awaiting him, was supposed to be the love of his life, his soulmate. However, growing up on the Island of Woe, a cold and depressing place where millions of souls are held and where those who to might have once had a red string wrapped around their own finger are now held, it was hard to imagine himself with a lover.

At least until now.

After so many years, he had finally found you or, well, you found him. That red string he's stared at for so long with so much wonder, hope, frustration, and sorrow. Seeing it wrapped around your finger still surprised him whenever he saw it.

It's a little crazy that his soulmate was from a whole other world and ended up getting isekai'd to his. But deep down he was so happy to have you as his. It seems the Fates were kind to him for once...

I mean, who would've thought Idia, the loser, introverted, gamer, otaku, would get a girlfriend? Certainly not Idia! Especially someone so pretty and kind as you were. You were so understanding of him and his social anxiety. You actually listened to what he was saying!

You respected his space and didn't push his boundaries, unlike certain loud extroverts...

Simply put, he was very thankful for you. He was thankful for your kindness, patience, and understanding. He knows he can be difficult to deal with at times and he honestly doesn't think he's that great of a boyfriend with how much time he spends looking at a screen than looking at you.

But you always seem to let him know that it's okay and that your not bothered by it. You love him and his awkward self! It's just one of the many reasons you've fallen in love with him after all. He's you're cute, weirdo, gamer boyfriend and you love everything about him~

He couldn't help the blush that would bloom across his face whenever you said such kind things like that to him. His hair glowing a soft pink to match. Though, in the moment, he could only stutter an awkward thank you in response. Later however, when you weren't in his room with him, he couldn't help but to remember your words, becoming giddy as his heart grew warm thinking about it.

You were so nice to him. He really didn't think he deserved someone so amazing as you.

.

.

It was during one of his many gaming sessions that you came inside his room with a surprise for him.

He had put his controller down deciding to take a quick snack break only to turn around and let out a high-pitched scream. He was so distracted by his game that he didn't hear you come in.

After an awkward moment where he apologized for screaming and you lightly laughed at him, you finally presented your gift to him.

A pomegranate...

.

Idia was quiet for a few moments. Listening to you talk about how you found it and how you wanted to eat some of it with him.

He couldn't help but wonder, did you know about the story surrounding the pomegranate? You probably didn't, considering you were from another world...

You definitely didn't know, right?

I mean, why would you? This was just a simple gift! Yeah, that's all.. heh...

Of course, Idia wouldn't deny your request to eat the pomegranate together. After all, he was a bit hungry.

Not wanting to awkwardly sit in silence while eating, you both struck up a conversation. You asked him about the game he was playing which led him into a very lengthy explanation of the game, it's lore, and the characters. After he realized how long he was talking for he apologized. You simply laughed it off calling him cute as you told him about your day and the shenanigans Grim had put you through.

He only pretended to listen as you spoke. It wasn't because he was disinterested in what you were saying! It was just that he couldn't stop thinking about why you wanted to eat a pomegranate with him..

He couldn't help but think about the story of Persephone and Hades. How with each seed eaten was a month that Persephone had to spend with Hades. In a weird way, he thought this was kinda like that. Only..

You both had almost eaten the entire thing...

It made him think about how many months that would be. How many months you'd have to spend with him. Willingly of course! He'd never force you to do anything.

But, it made him realize that he really would like to spend the rest of his life with you. And as he watched you put another seed into your mouth, it only confirmed his thoughts.

He was so entranced by the way your lips moved as you spoke and ate more and more of the pomegranate. Before he realized what he was doing he was leaning closer to you.

Every time he saw you put another seed into your mouth it felt like a silent promise to stay with him and the thought that you would like to spend the rest of your life with him made his chest grow warm.

As he subtly moved closer to you, the thought of your lips overwhelmed his thoughts and he couldn't help but to think of what your lips tasted like. Would they taste like the pomegranate you both have been eating or perhaps even sweeter?

Well, he didn't wait for the answer. As once you seemed to notice just how close he was to you, he finally leaned in and kissed you.

His lips gently pressed against yours and he got his answer.

You tasted much sweeter.

.

A new kind of warmth bloomed within him as he pulled away from you. But it was quickly drowned out as he suddenly realized what he had done. He became frightened of your possible reaction. Though you only smiled before trying to pull him back to kiss him again.

The warmth returned as kiss after kiss was shared between you two. It was a bit awkward as you both tried to figure out what you two liked.

Soon Idia became bolder. His hands trailed down your arms. Using his left hand, he lightly grabbed the hem of your shirt playing with the fabric.

He pulled away from your lips. If the warmth in his skin and the heat traveling to his pelvis were anything to go by, he knew he wanted to go further. But, he wasn't going to do anything you weren't okay with.

Growing nervous, he tried to form the words in his mouth, "Do you.. Uh- Do you want to?" He murmured as he continued to play with the hem of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers as he tried to calm himself down.

Thankfully, it seems you understood what he was trying to ask. You were quiet for a few moments as you thought about it. You then responded, "I would like to but.. I've never done this before."

You're.. Oh...

.

"That's okay! Um- here you just lay down and I'll do the rest okay?"

You paused for a moment before nodding laying back onto his bed.

Shit... Maybe he should have thought about this more. He'll need to remember every romance manga and hentai he's read! There must be something in there that can help him! He just needs to calm down and think.

Right, he can do this! He can do this!

Taking in a breath to calm himself down, he went back to what he was doing before. Running his hands across your body he leaned down to kiss you again.

He almost moaned at the feeling of your lips against his. He didn't think he'd miss them so quickly. After a few moments, he pulled away from the kiss gripping the hem of your shirt again. This time though, he started to drag your shirt upward. You shuffled around to help get the shirt off and....

Yeah, those mangas aren't gonna help him here. Seeing you topless was something he would only dream about, as shameful as it was to admit. Now that he's actually doing this though, it's much more nerve-wracking than he thought it would be.

He just needs to relax, to keep breathing and not let his anxiety get to him. So he continued. Growing a bit more bold he ran his hands up your torso ending just at the bottom of your bra and running back down to your stomach.

He reached the hem of your pants. Grabbing it before deciding to pull that off of you. With new skin revealed, he touched you as he admired you. He never believed that someone so beautiful could ever love him.

Not wanting to leave you uncomfortable, he took off his own clothes. Pulling off his shirt and pants, he was left in just his boxers.

He looked back down at you and seeing the look of adoration in your eyes he became more confident in his actions. Reaching up, he fumbled with the bra clasp before finally getting it off.

Seeing your tits he went and grabbed them. The sound you made as he lightly squeezed them made his dick throb. Wanting to hear more, he leaned down and put one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it as his hand played with your other breast.

He felt like he was slowly losing control. Lust clouding his mind, he couldn't stop himself from lightly rocking into you as he fondled and squeezed your breasts. He was heating up more and more and your mewls and gasps only encouraged him further.

Eventually, he grew impatient. His cock was fighting for its life in his boxers and it was starting to hurt. His mouth made a popping noise as he pulled away from your breast. Reaching down towards his boxers he started to grow nervous again. His hands shook a bit as he grabbed his boxers and pulled them off, freeing his aching cock.

Reluctantly, he looked up to see your reaction. You stared at him with curiosity and his face grew red from nervousness. Taking in a deep breath he tried to forget you were looking at him.

He reached up to your underwear and with your help, pulled the fabric off of you. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of your pussy. He knew that he needed to prepare you properly first before he could stick his dick in you. Luckily with him being a sad little gamer boy, he just so happened to have what he needed.

Getting up he went to a drawer and quickly searched through it. When he saw your confused expression he reassured you, giving you an awkward smile as he continued rummaging through the drawer. After a moment, he found what he was looking for, a bottle of lube and a condom.

Quickly, he made his way back over to you. Sitting on the bed, he settled himself between your legs. He opened the bottle, pouring some of the slick liquid onto his hand before setting the bottle on the floor nearby. He took in another breath as he reached down and touched you.

You let out a soft moan as he touched you. Feeling a bit braver from the positive reaction he continued, stroking your folds and rubbing your clit. He eventually found your entrance, poking and prodding before he stuck a finger in, feeling around your wet walls. He soon added another finger, scissoring your insides. Feeling your warm wet walls squeeze around his fingers made him eager to know what you'd feel like around his aching cock.

After a while of scissoring you and applying lube when needed, he looked up to see your face. Your eyes opened and closed as you softly moaned. Seeing you so blissed out because of him made Idia's dick pulse. He needed to be inside you so badly.

He grabbed the condom, tore it open and put it on his dick. He picked up the lube again pouring some on his hand he then tossed it aside before covering his dick in the liquid. He positioned himself near your entrance. Hearing a gasp from you he quickly looked up at your face.

You wore a worried expression on your face. Idia growing concerned asked, "If you want me stop I will. W- we don't have to go farther if you don't want to..." The last thing he wanted was to make this a bad experience for you.

You took a breath before responding, "Please keep going.. Just be careful, okay?"

"Of course, anything for you." Idia leaned down softly kissing you before he lined up with your entrance again.

Slowly, trying to be as careful as he could, he sunk into you. Inch by inch his hard cock settled into you. Idia gasped and let out a low moan as he felt your warm walls squeeze around his cock. The feeling was overwhelming, much better then anything he could have imagined within his own mind.

All those times he shamefully fantasized about having his dick inside you, hearing your cries and moans as he fucked you, could never compare to this.

Still, being as careful as he could, he continued. Whenever you made a noise of pain he stopped, waiting for your cue to continue moving again. Eventually, with enough time and patience he had fit his entire dick inside you.

He shuddered, knowing that after so long of you two being together he now had his dick inside you, inside his soulmate. He waited till you had adjusted to his size. You moved around a bit and after a few moments you had nodded at him to try moving.

He slowly dragged himself back, his cock rubbed against your walls and you both moaned at the feeling. Slowly he continued, pushing in then pulling out again. Eventually, the pain subsided and in between your moans you cried out, asking him to move faster.

Thrusting his cock in and out of you, listening to your gasps and moans as he fucked you made him feel euphoric. He lost himself in the feeling of your slick walls tightly squeezing around his cock. He felt like he couldn't stop himself.

His pace growing faster and faster, he grabbed your legs lifting them up to his waist, feeling you wrap your legs across his back, he held your hip with one of his hands putting his other hand on the bed to steady himself. With your hips raised more it made it much easier for him to quickly thrust his cock in and out of you.

The feeling of your walls would soon become too much for him. As Idia neared his climax, he moved his hand from your hip to your clit, rubbing you quickly. You're walls squeezed tightly around him and with a cry you came around his cock. With only a few more thrusts he came as well.

.

Panting as he came down from his high, Idia pulled out of you and after throwing away the condom he flopped next to you on the bed. He was tired. His eyes closed and he could feel you moving around.

His hand suddenly felt warm. Opening his eyes, he saw you were holding his hand, interlocking your fingers with his, you smiled at him. He observed your interlocked hands seeing the red string entangled between them. He then smiled back as he leaned over and kissed you. Even now you still tasted sweet.

"Well.. how was it?" Idia whispered quietly to you, growing anxious.

"It was amazing Idia." You whispered back to him as you hugged him.

You both continued to hold each other as you two soon fell into the depths of sleep. Idia was glad that you seemed satisfied. He was happy to have a soulmate so beautiful and kind as you were.

You really were just as sweet as you tasted.

[lavender--fairy]

Do you feel Impatient?

I've made a post about this before but my views have changed. Do you feel impatient?? if yes than you are NOT doing what Neville told us to do and that is to stop desiring, thats the first and foremost. But dont blame yourself or feel down because of it, infact feel positive because you now know what you are working with and the solution is to stop desiring, how? by fulfilling your desires in the inner world (the ONLY real reality) Fulfillment and desiring cant go together you have to either be in the state of desiring or fulfillment and clearly you are in the state of desiring rn. One thing people need to drill in their head is to leave the 3d alone and accept imagination to be the only real reality, idk how many more times i and many other blogs have to repeat this but PLEASE try to understand, if you want your desire you will HAVE to make this sacrifice and this is the only thing asked of you. You might feel scared to let go of the outerworld you may have questions like "what if i am just imagining and feeling things that may never happen" Well do you believe in the Law?? if yes then you dont have to worry whatsoever because what you do in imagination HAS to be reflected thats the law and you dont have to worry about that, let the law take care of it you just fulfill your desires in imagination and move on,now alot of people get stuck in the "move on" or as Neville calls it "let it be" part. you dont have to be like "damn i have to think about it again" because you are not trying to attract it, remember life is happening FROM you not TO you, so its not like if you say it enough times and it will just fall in to your lap thats not what the law promises (not saying that repetition doesnt work but repeating desperately to "make it happen" is not quite right imo) so like you just imagine and have fun feeling what it would be like and then persist being it, NOT persist trying to make it happen but being it and the law will take care of the rest .Once you do that you will feel fulfilled in your imagination when you imagine because you will no longer worry about the outerworld and therefore no longer feel impatient.

[fellshish]

re: neil I’m a little concerned that most good omens blogs have completely checked out of the conversation and have gone back to business as usual. I feel like you’re one of the only that I see still discussing it.

On the other hand, the blog that did the big podcast write up is still receiving hate messages over the posts, so I get it. They just posted one with someone telling her to k*ll herself.

I guess I just wish there were more blogs not ignoring it so we can drown out the people acting in bad faith. Maybe if everyone who is on the same page as us, that we believe the victims and condemn neil but still engage with his works, was more open to the discussion we wouldn’t have so much vitriol. Or maybe people will just always be shitty idk

I feel like you are making yourself very unhappy worrying about what other people are doing or feeling.

Many fans aren’t posting about the allegations. That might be for a variety of reasons, including being afraid to say the wrong thing, being afraid of getting horrible asks, but also being unsure what to think or how to act, or being shy, not even having heard about the podcast, etc etc

Tumblr is a fan website and there’s nothing wrong with engaging with fan content. I assure you even those with different opinions than you? If you met them in real life you’d probably simply get along. Hang out. Grab a drink together.

I do not wish for it all to become a witch hunt trying to track down who has the “right” opinions and fighting with those who don’t. Nor do i wish for it to become a fest of virtue signaling. I wish for tumblr to stay a largely positive place.

I probably won’t keep blogging about it unless maybe new things happen, actually. And i hope not to get hate for that. Thx

[forgeofthenine]

Sorry for adding to your pile of requests 😭 quick question: so like how many requests can one person give before it gets annoying 🙈🙈

What do you think of post-game Tav hyping up Dammon’s forge saying it’s the reason they could beat the absolute. OR OR some jealousy HCs but specifically for late Act 2 when Tav sees Dammon lowkey flirt with Karlach/mutual pining shit.

One or the other! IDK I can’t get this man out of my head.

When my requests are open? Absolutely fair game, especially for great requests like this. While I like the idea of the first one, the second prompt gave me more to work with and is similar to an idea I've had in mind since I first made this blog. I hope you enjoy and send in more requests when they open back up :)

When you get jealous of Dammon 'flirting' with Karlach

You'd been travelling with your group for a few months now, all of you growing closer and forming bonds in your own way with each other and the others you've run into

One person you feel you've had quite the connection with is the handsome tiefling blacksmith Dammon

Now you're all here in the shadow cursed lands it's the perfect time to reconnect with the charming man, particularly as you take Karlach and some infernal metal to him

He'd always been friendly with you, smiling and offering discounts on his wares, his calm and confident demeanor drawing you in

Soon you found yourself spending more time with Dammon, joining him for a drink once his work was done for the day or bringing him new materials you found while traversing the wilderness

It didn't take long for you to fall for the tiefling

What you didn't expect was the way he'd look at Karlach, the subtle flirting as he worked on fixing her infernal engine

You could feel your own heart break as the visit went on, even Karlachs endless excitement at being able to touch others didn't cheer you up after she held Dammons hand

However, Karlach was oblivious to the way you excused yourself as soon as you could, ducking out of the forge and leaving to go have space

And you were oblivious to the way Dammon asked Karlach if she knows how he might win you over

What you'd misconstrued as flirting was just a genuine sense of excitement on Dammons part to work with the rare substance again, and his stumbling over words was his failed attempt of trying to avoid flirting

There's no way for you to know that though, as you look out over the water and cuddle with Scratch

Things carry on much like normal from then, other than you avoiding Dammon and Karlachs endless excitement over being able to touch others

It only took a few days for the blacksmith to wonder what's keeping you, though initially he tried to brush it off as you being busy keeping everyone alive, and he must admit he misses you

After a week he left his forge to try and find you, however he found Karlach first and surely she'll know where you are

You come back to your campsite only to see the two speaking, stopping right in your tracks until Karlach waves to you, and you turn heel and leave

Dammon doesn't know what's going on in your mind, but he seems to realise part of what's happening by now, quickly taking chase and calling your name

You eventually find yourself stuck in a dead end, only you and Dammon around as he catches up and tries to catch his breath

It's a hard conversation for him to start, asking why you're avoiding him with the cutest frown on his face

His frown only deepens at any comments you might make about him preferring Karlach

It takes the both of you a short while to work through the miscommunication, neither of you realising the others feelings at first

Once Dammon does reveal his feelings to you, trying to assure you he doesn't want Karlach, it's easier to reveal your own in turn

Once you two resolve things though, it's easy to fall back into your old routine

Except this time it includes you and Dammon sneaking many more kisses when the others aren't looking

[yunhohours]

ATEEZ: Top 5 Kinks

request: idk if you’ve done a post like this,,,but ateez’s top 5 (or even top 3) kinks?? and i love your blog so muchh.

a/n: this request has been sitting in my inbox for two years (i'm so sorry). granted, i wasn't posting for one of those, but still. my b.

p.s. the kinks are not necessarily in order

hongjoong

restraints - he'll say he likes this because he gets to have you under his control, but he equally likes it if you ever turn the tables on him. frankly, he might even like it more when you restrain him.

temperature play - this one definitely goes both ways. his body is very sensitive, so doing something like taking an ice cube to it will have him shivering violently. he likes doing it to you too, though. he'll watch with fascination as hot wax drops onto your stomach, making the muscles tense in response.

lingerie - this one's a no-brainer. he very much appreciates good style and has an eye for aesthetics, so there's simply nothing better than seeing you in a pretty little piece. he will take you shopping and buy his favorites.

dry humping/clothed sex - i must reiterate how sensitive hongjoong is to stimulation. it doesn't take a whole lot to get him riled all the way up and once he's at that point, he does not want to stop and take the time to get undressed and all that. he also likes the idea of you being so desperate for each other (especially you for him) that you have to have him now.

cockwarming - to put it frankly, he just likes to torture himself sometimes lmao. like yeah, he really does love the intimacy of cockwarming, but he loves seeing how much he can take, too–not that he would tell you that.

seonghwa

perfume/cologne - truly, seonghwa loves all the atmospheric parts of sex–lingerie, lighting, occasionally some music. but when you wear a fragrance he likes, it goes right to his dick. he will not be shy about inhaling your scent, letting himself get drunk off it.

threesomes/sharing - to get this out of the way, you belong to seonghwa. he isn't into this because he likes you being with someone else. he does, however, love you with every single fiber of his being and wants nothing but the most mind-blowing pleasure for you. so he's happy to let someone else help him take care of you, as long as he's still your main focus.

sex toys - he likes toys for two reasons: 1) he likes going shopping for toys with you. it's like foreplay and he likes to have a pretty collection for you. 2) he likes to try them out on you to see what kind of reactions he can get.

voyeurism - this isn't something that happens often because he doesn't necessarily go out of his way to sate this kink, but if ever you two are in the position to watch someone else, you better believe you will be. touching each other the whole time, of course.

praise (giving) - this isn't a surprise considering seonghwa sings your praises all day long, anyway. but he puts a lot more effort into making you feel like the undeniable god/goddess you are when he's pleasuring you.

yunho

phone sex - you've heard yunho's sleepy voice in his voice messages and his lives. don't even play lad. he knows the affect it has on you and he very much uses it to his advantage. will call you when he knows his voice is dripping with extra rasp and play it off innocently only to be like aw~ do you like the sound of my voice~

somnophilia - likes it when he stirs barely awake in the middle of the night and fucks you until you both cum and drift off back to sleep. sleeps like a baby afterwards.

breeding - the fact that you'd let him breed you makes him fucking feral omg. uses this as an excuse to fuck every last brain cell out of you with no mercy (not that he needs an excuse for that).

orgasm denial (giving) - he will deny your orgasm over and over again with a smirk on his face and all the mock pouting he can muster. he always gives it to you in the end, though, and makes sure to love you so much extra afterwards.

finger sucking/fucking - much like his voice, yunho is also aware of the deadly weapons that are his hands. and just the same, he will abuse this power every chance he gets. always telling you to open your mouth for his fingers or ghosting them between your legs while he asks you if you want them inside you, already knowing the answer. he just wants to hear you say it.

yeosang

pet play - yeosang gets unreasonably hard at the sheer thought of collaring you. you can be his puppy or his kitten, he doesn't care. you just have to be a good pet, whatever you are, because his rules are strict.

dumbification - never one to half-ass something that matters to him, he is a master at pleasuring you. he knows all the right buttons to push and when he sees the physical evidence of his success in the form of babbling, drooling, or the inability to talk at all, he's the most satisfied.

spanking (giving) - tbh, this gives him a perfect way to peacock his strength. even if he doesn't slap your ass as hard as he possibly he can, he knows that you know how much damage he could inflict, should he so choose.

praise/degradation (giving) - he often switches back and forth in the same session. he'll be telling you how well you're doing for him one second and the next he's calling you a 'dumb little slut' for not being able to form sentences.

sexting - my guy's poker face when he's texting you around other people is unmatched for real. he will send you the most mouth-watering text with a straight face. he likes to test himself this way, seeing how much he can take before he's losing his mind to actually have you.

san

dirty talk - this man never closes his mouth when he's playing with you. he simply has to tell you every single nasty thought and idea he has. he loves it if you can talk dirty back to him, but even if you can't, he loves to see how flustered you get from everything he has to say.

face-fucking (giving) - the fact that you trust him this much <3 you giving him full ability to fuck your mouth and throat until they're sore is precious to him. he often happily loses himself in this, eyes closed and jaw slack. he won't go easy unless you need him to.

marking - san is possessive? who ever would've thought? he wants you to mark up his big, strong back with his nails and he wants to leave pretty hickies on you.

exhibitionism - he likes the full scale of exhibitionism. he's content to just have someone listening in the other room or accidentally seeing when they come into the room unknowingly, but he's also not shy to just fully and intentionally fuck you in front of other people. he knows he'd want to watch you two, so really, it's a favor to the lucky audience.

body worship (giving) - san will worship your body in and out of the bedroom, but he will take his fucking time doing it when you're naked and craving him. will kiss every inch of your body, muttering the most love-laced words as he does so. he treats making you cum like a tenet of the religion that is your body.

mingi

roleplay - omg, he has so much fun getting to play different characters and scenarios with you. he likes that he gets to experiment with different personas for himself and seeing different versions of you makes him want to bed each one.

quickies - when mingi gets the urge to have sex, he wants to have sex now. like it's physically painful for him to have to wait or ignore it. he likes having the kind of relationship where he can alert you to his needs and fuck one out really quick. he does some of his best work in these instances, tbh.

strip tease (receiving) - the way you slowly stripping just for him makes him feel so special and wanted. he'll have the biggest smile on his face and the stiffest erection in his pants.

choking (giving) - i don't think he'd even know he has this kink until you mention it to him. he doesn't want to hurt you, but he only has to try it once and see that you're perfectly alive and well to want to do it again and again. once he gets comfortable with it, he will choke tfff out of you too, if you want him to.

overstimulation (receiving) - he lowkey but highkey loves when you take the control from him and make him a moaning, pathetic mess. it's incredibly easy to overstimulate him and every time you do it, he feels like he floats out of his body by the end.

wooyoung

spit kink - he just gets so fucking cocky about the fact that you'd let him do something so "nasty" as spitting in your mouth. it's an easy way for him to constantly prove your devotion to him to himself. every time you willingly open your mouth to accept his spit, he knows you're not going anywhere. doesn't love the idea of you spitting into his mouth in theory, but will occasionally succumb to it when he's really desperate.

mutual masturbation - he looooves a lazy, playful session where you're seated on opposite ends of the couch, watching each other get off. neither of you has to do too much work and he can make all the teasing remarks he wants because his mouth isn't otherwise occupied.

filming - he films more for the art of it than for any sexual reason. however, once again, he likes that you let him film you. he loves how you let him position you this way and that and follow whatever he says so he can get the best shots.

intoxicated sex - whether it's alcohol or something else, wooyoung loves to have sex when you're both fucked up. it's always messy, unorganized, and spontaneous. just how he likes it.

degradation - this isn't the first time we've talked about wooyoung's degradation kink on this blog, but i'd be remiss to not include it. he likes talking shit to you and he likes it when you talk shit back. it will arouse him quickly every time, and it won't stop until you're both too busy catching your breath to speak.

jongho

thigh riding - discovers this kink when you're extremely needy one day and take to attending to that need yourself–on his thigh, of course. he enjoys watching you satisfy yourself so much that he will sometimes tell you to just use his thigh when you come to him all needy. watches with hearts in his eyes.

guided masturbation - this usually happens on a video call. he will be completely clothed, just sitting in his desk chair, while he tells you how to take off your clothes for him and how to touch yourself for him. he's so casual about it that it makes you want to get a reaction out of him, but he'll maintain his composure. at least until he gets his hands on you next.

make up sex - unlike you might think, jongho doesn't like make up sex because it's desperate and intense and the like. he actually really likes it because he uses it as a time to show you how much he loves you. it's very soft, slow, and focused on you. the intimacy is unmatched.

teasing - jongho loves to go through a very normal day with you, casually dropping suggestive words or lingering touches in a place that's just barely appropriate. does it all so coolly that no one else is the wiser, but you're dying.

watching porn together - he'll use this time to discover new things you're into, but his favorite part is when you can't handle it anymore and have to have him. you're so cute when you're crawling on top of him and begging him to touch you.