#kitchen nook cushion
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thatssewcustom · 3 months ago
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Kitchen Dining - Transitional Dining Room Idea for a mid-sized transitional kitchen/dining room combination with a medium tone wood floor and a brown floor, green walls, and no fireplace
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hiro6plus · 1 year ago
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Kitchen Dining Dining Room in Grand Rapids Example of a mid-sized trendy kitchen/dining room combo design
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leoppii · 1 year ago
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Kitchen Dining Dining Room
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Example of a mid-sized trendy kitchen/dining room combo design
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frothandbubble · 2 years ago
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Kitchen - Farmhouse Kitchen Remodeling ideas for a farmhouse-style eat-in kitchen with a light wood floor, an island, white countertops, a farmhouse sink, and shaker cabinets.
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c0ffeejelly1 · 4 months ago
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When you call them a pet name for the first time
Multiple characters headcannon
Authors note: this was very rushed and not proofread sorry.
Warnings: none. Just the use of ‘baby’..scary.
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You were currently on the hunt for your missing phone you dropped somewhere around the house.
Searching every nook and cranny you could feel your boyfriend's gaze on you as he silently watched you now looking underneath the couch pillows.
“Hey, have you seen my phone? I think I left it here somewhere..” He gives you a confused look
“Really? I swear I saw it on the kitchen counter like 5 minutes ago.”
“You did?” You perk up slightly before rushing over to the countertop to see it lying there.
“Yep! I found it! Thank you so much, baby.”
You shoot a grin at him before going through your unread messages.
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The type to blush instantly and start malfunctioning
“..huh?”
Were his ears deceiving him or did he just hear what he thought he heard, fall from your lips…
Did you just call him baby?
His minds not playing tricks right? I mean it couldn’t be..
he’s sure- no he KNOWS you said it, because who else other than you would refer to him by that name? Hell, in that way.
It would explain why as soon as you started approaching him, the growing blush he already had on his face intensified even further while he struggled to gather his thoughts.
Wow.
You had really just called him baby.
“You good?” Your voice snaps him out of his internal conflict as a small squeal catches in his throat.
“What?..o-oh!” He scratches the back of his head nervously his eyes looking everywhere but at you.
“Y-yeah! Good, I am! Very I- uh..good.” You give him a weird look, a little confused with his wording before slowly nodding your head, “Um..sure, if you say so, babe..”
boyfriend.exe has shut down.
Woman, are you trying to kill this man? He’s practically a boiling kettle with the amount of heat running through his face and now you're coming in already with pet name number 2?? Slow your roll girl he’s not going anywhere!
He looked like a gaping fish the way he struggled for words to say back to you. He didn’t even need to reply because what you said to him was more of a statement than a question, but yet he still tried. And failed miserably.
“B-baby! Yes! I say so. I- heh..say so..”
…he’s embarrassing himself, isn’t he? Damn it to being head over heels for you.
He kinda avoided you the whole day after that because anytime he caught a glimpse of you he was reminded of 1. The pet name, and 2. How pathetic he looked in front of you when you said it. It was enough to make him start blushing once again.
You best just not talk to him though, because either way, in the end, he’ll find himself clingy onto you like a koala whining about how he hasn’t ‘felt your touch all day’.
As if that wasn’t his fault.
Cuddle this man, please. He’s a real softie at heart.
Characters: SERIZAWA, KAIDOU, armin, NISHINOYA, Hinata, bokuto, KAGEYAMA, Yuji, LEVIATHAN , izuku. (Anyone you like)
The type to smirk to themselves and tease you about it
He couldn’t help the small smug smile forming on his lips.
The way it would curl up into that arrogant grin as if it was almost pleasurable hearing you call him that, if you had seen it in action, it probably would’ve been enough to make you scoff and roll your eyes in annoyance.
He turned to face you once more, dropping his own phone down on the couch before placing his chin onto his palm, the flat part of the cushion holding his arm up, and with a slight cocky chuckle he breathed out,
“Oh? So is that what I am to you, hm?”
You regret calling him that.
You regret it so bad, because now he won’t shut up about it.
“I’m your baby, huh? Why wasn’t I made aware of this until 30 minutes ago?”
You look up from your phone a blank expression on your face. He’s right. It had been 30 minutes- so why was he still going on about it??
“Just watch your damn TV.”
“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
.
.
.
“Come on baby..Y’know, you don’t have to be all moody. You’re the one who started it, not me.” You could feel the heavy smirk he still had on his face as your back faced towards him.
You were ignoring him and paying more attention to the dishes you had in the sink because it was the only thing that could distract you from ripping his hair out.
It had been more than 5 hours from when you found your phone, and he was still going on about the whole ‘baby’ situation with his nonstop teasing.
It was always a ‘baby this’ or ‘baby that’- he just wouldn’t let it go!
“So baby, what’s on the menu for me, huh? Is it a homemade Italian cuisine? Oh! Or maybe some Chinese..but then what if you’re being the amazing girlfriend you are and making my fav-”
“My fist.”
“Wha-“
Let’s just say you took care of your little incident that night. I mean..at least he’s not hungry anymore.
Characters: REIGEN, DIMPLE, aomine, kagami, KISE, TENGEN, TORITSUKA, jean, ukai, kuroo, OIKAWA, tendou, atsumu, GOJO, toji, bakugo, satan, diavolo, SOLOMON, denki. (Anyone you like)
The type to go along with it but once he’s alone he’s kicking his feet in the air
“You're welcome, babe.” He knows damn well he is not keeping his cool.
To you, sure, it may have looked like his normal stoic self, but trust me it’s a whole party inside of him.
His palms are sweating.
His heart is pounding.
His mind is racing.
Everything about him is un-orderly
Yet he’s put up a strong front that not even you can tell he’s giggling like a teenage girl inside
It wasn’t until you had left for work that he finally let loose.
He was stuffing his hands in his face trying to hide his heavy blush away from..nobody.
He’s the only one in the house, why was he acting so giddy?
He shook his head left and right like an anime girl, trying to snap out of his state before resting his head on the back of the couch looking up only to see a pair of eyes staring right back at him.
“Well you seem happy, you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Can he die now?
Why oh why were you back already?
He couldn’t have been gushing over you for 6 whole hours..right? No.. he’s not that much of a simp..is he?
He quickly sits up straight, adjusting himself before letting out a small unfazed cough.
“Y/N. Back so soon..”
“Just wanted to pick up my lunch..forgot it on the way out.” You’re not stupid. You just saw this man scatterbrained like 5 seconds ago, and he’s not fooling you this time around; he’s not gonna avoid the question, so you ask him again.
“Did something good happen while I was gone?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you tweaking out on the cou-“
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“But I just saw yo-“
“No you didn’t.”
“I-“
“No.”
Don’t bring up the conversation again or else he’s going to deny everything and its existence.
Characters: Akashi, MIDORIMA, giyuu, AREN, Tsukishima, NANAMI, megumi, MAMMON, IIDA, choso (Anyone you like)
The type to pretend they didn’t hear you just so you can repeat it again
“Hm? What d’you say?” He heard you loud and clear. Just look at his face; he’s barely keeping his smile under wraps.
You could see it the moment you glanced up from your phone. That little rascal was trying to play innocent! You weren’t gonna fall for it though.
You knew how to play this game too.
“Oh, I just said thank you..”
“Mm..you sure? cause I feel like you said something a bit longer.” What’s with the blank face...
What’s he trying to achieve here..he’s just making it more obvious that he CLEARLY heard what you said. Why was he trying to beat around the bush?
You raise an eyebrow at him before crossing your arms over your chest.
“Yeah, I-... I just said thank you. What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing, nothing.. just sounded like it was a three-word phrase, not two."
His persistent hints about the comment you made just minutes earlier were becoming harder to ignore. Taking a deep breath, you prepared to speak.
“..you mean me saying, baby?”
“Ohhh, so is that what you said? I knew my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.”
Y’know, he could’ve at least TRIED to seem oblivious but now he just looks like he’s teasing you.
“Yeah…” you replied slowly, turning your attention back to your phone
“..I feel like you should repeat it again cause I didn’t really get to hear you before.”
Blud is NOT nonchalant.
Characters: Murasakibara, Rengoku, EREN, Reiner, IWAIZUMI, akaashi, Ushijima, SUNA, Osamu, geto, LUCIFER, Barbatos. (Anyone you like)
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cimmanonrowl · 5 months ago
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Eat Your Young pt.1
Part Two | Masterlist
It was a blessing when you were offered a job to look after a kid named Jack. He is a good one– smart, funny, a little cheeky but obeys you nonetheless. His father was all the same— Mr. Hotchner. He pays really well and on time, and made sure that after his arrival from Pakistan, you finally learn to accept your hidden desires.
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Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, unprotected, rough sex, dom!aaron, daddy kink, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pussy-eater bearded aaron.
You were supposed to find Jack in ten minutes. 
Ten minutes maximum, you told yourself. That is the only reason why you confidently agreed to play hide and seek with that hyperactive, sugar-high of a child. Just ten minutes.
Now you couldn’t breathe in panic.
“Jack!” your trembling voice echoed down the hallway as you peered through rooms you had ransacked just three minutes ago. “Jack, please. Where are you, honey?”
Nothing.
The heavy sound of your frantic steps pierced the silence as you bolted downstairs, feeling even more lightheaded as the gnawing anxiety grew harshly and clawed at your insides. The silence reverberating through every corner of the house felt extremely taunting. Yet, with the rush of worry you feel for the kid, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else.
Your chest hurts, your mind racing with every horrid scenario, each thud echoing in your ears as you rush to the kitchen. Shortly after you were hired and joined their little family, Jessica told you everything she felt you needed to be aware of. And you knew what Jack had to go through as a kid. He and his father had gone through terrible things you weren’t even sure it was possible to handle.
Warm tears now flooded your eyes as you desperately scanned every nook and cranny— he was not under the table, not inside the empty kitchen cabinet, nor behind the dining room curtains.
“Jack Hotchner!” you tried keeping the tremor out of your voice, making yourself sound assertive and annoyed as an attempt to scare him, yet your panic still found a way to lace at each word. “This isn’t funny anymore, Jack! I’m telling your dad!” 
You darted to the living room, ripping aside the couch cushions and peeking behind and under every piece of furniture. Now your breath comes in shallow gasps. With each movement, the very memory of his mischievous giggle haunted you, ringing inside your brain.
When you realized the kid wasn’t there, you sprinted again upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Your mind continuously raced with possibilities. Did he sneak out? Is he hiding in the attic? The basement? Jesus Christ, did you even lock the front door?
You throw open the closet in the hallway, pushing aside winter coats and a pile of boxes. “Jack! I’m serious! Come out!” 
Desperation edged even closer.
The bathroom door swung open with a creak as you pushed through the room. But to your horror, it was all empty, too.
You staggered back to his bedroom with quick steps. Your very last hope. You flung open the toy chest, rummaging through the chaos of plastic dinosaurs, action figures, and Lego blocks. Still nothing. It didn’t even cross your mind that a kid as old as Jack wouldn’t fit in a small wooden toy box; your mind was too frantic to think logically.
“Jack! Where are you?” you dropped to your knees, peering under his bed, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “Please, Jack, come out!” 
You stood by the window and started biting on your nails— a habit you developed when you’re too anxious to function. You clutched your phone tightly as you hugged yourself, fingers trembling, contemplating to finally dial for help. From the window you observed that the garden looked empty as always, the back shed had always been locked, and you couldn’t see anyone behind the bushes— Jack was nowhere to be found. 
The dread is almost paralyzing, a heavy weight pressing firmly on your chest.
And just as you made up your mind to go outside and check properly, your phone vibrated on your hand. Blood drained on your face as you glanced at the screen and read the familiar name on the caller’s I.D.
Mr. Hotchner.
Jack’s father. Your employer— who also happens to be a big shot FBI agent. If he learned that you lost his son in a hide-and-seek game, no matter how warmhearted, accommodating, and considerate that man is of your needs and well-being, you get this nagging feeling that you might end up floating on a river somewhere with no leads of any kind or prime suspect to consider.
You rubbed your eyes as you accepted the call, your doom at the same time. “H-hello?”
“Hey,” Aaron’s voice crackles through the line, distant yet filled with warmth. “Just wanted to check in. How’s Jack doing?”
Your throat tightened as you listened. 
“Mr. Hotchner…”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Hotchner…” your fingers gripped the phone tightly as you let out a strangled sob. “I... I can’t find Jack. We– we were playing hide and seek, and now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere,” warm tears flowed down your cheeks as you continued, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’ve been l-looking… I swear. I’m really sorry.”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you can almost hear Aaron’s heartbeat sync with your frantic pulse. You braced for the incoming screams, expecting him to ridicule your incompetence. After all, you’ve always thought of Mr. Hotchner as someone who never hesitates to pinpoint someone’s inefficiency. Maybe today you’ll have enough luck to prove your theory.
But in a calm voice, Aaron Hotchner said softly instead, “Alright, I need you to stay calm for me, sweetheart. Are you sure you checked everywhere?”
“Y-yes, sir,” you sniffed quietly in relief, rubbing your nose and the tears streaming down your face. “Everywhere. The cabinets, the cupboards, h-his toy box…”
A brief silence fell with that, and you bit your lip in embarrassment. “His toy box? You don’t suppose he’s gonna fit in there, do you?” Aaron sounded like he was trying not to laugh. What a silly, little girl.
“T-that’s not the point, sir!”
“Did you check the front door? Is the back door locked?”
“Yes. I always make sure to lock it.”
“Have you checked my office then?”
“N-no…” you drawled in confusion, frowning as you went back to biting the edge of your nail. “Should I?”
What kind of question is that? Why would you even go there? That’s the only room in his house that you don’t welcome yourself. Mr. Hotchner may have never told you so but you’re fully aware of all the confidential documents he’s storing inside. You can’t afford to be thrown in jail for obstructing a case because you have mistaken a case file as trash and thrown it out.
“It’s worth a look. Jack likes playing in there when I’m working,” Aaron’s tone suddenly shifted, his voice turning quiet as he started with his order. “There’s a wooden crate beside my desk, check that first.”
You hesitated. “But, I don—”
“Just check, sweetheart, please,” Aaron interrupted, gently but firmly as always. “I trust you.”
The sincerity in his words cut through your anxiety. Aaron trusts you. So you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself before stepping out of his son’s room.
“Jack, you really scared her. You know you’re supposed to come out when you’re called, right?” Aaron’s firm voice filled the kitchen moments later.
Jack glanced at you as if feigning confusion. As you know him well, he was obviously thrilled with the chaos he caused. You sat beside him at the kitchen table, eyeing the little devil while you prepare your own food, listening to his father’s reprimand. Jack’s legs swung back and forth under the table, excitedly munching on a sandwich wrap you made for his lunch.
“I was just hiding, Dad. It’s hide and seek, that’s what I’m supposed to do.” Jack’s small brows furrowed like his father’s as he looked down at his plate.
“Yes, I know, buddy,” A soft sigh rang audible through the line. “But it’s just a game, you can’t hide so well that no one can find you. It’s important to keep everyone safe, especially when I’m not there.”
Jack’s lower lip jutted out even further. “But that’s the point of the game, Dad. Players need to hide well.”
“Yes, buddy, but what I’m saying is…” Aaron sighed again, struggling to weave a perfect explanation for his son. “Everything fun should be done in moderation. You scared her, and me, because we thought something bad happened to you.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Thank you, buddy, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to. You made her worry.”
“I...” Jack stopped chewing, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to win.”
The scolding seemed to have hit its mark, and you reached over, ruffling the little guy’s hair. “It’s okay, honey. Just don’t hide so well next time, alright?”
Jack stared at you and nodded solemnly, but then his pout deepened. “Dad grew his beard. I don’t like it.”
You suppressed a smile, glancing at the phone where you could see Aaron’s face on the screen. Despite the grainy connection, you can see the dark shadow of a beard on his jawline. 
Aaron chuckled at what he heard, the sound of his deep voice humorous. “I had to, buddy. It’s hard to shave here every day.”
Jack shrugged as he took a big bite of his food. “You look like a bear.”
“What?!” Aaron said incredulously.
“You should shave, Dad. We’re gonna look like Masha and the Bear when you come home.”
You bit your lip to hold back a laugh, shaking your head.
Only if you were asked, you’d say how the full beard really absolutely suited Aaron. Now he looked rugged— a stark contrast to his usually neat and well-kept appearance. Regardless, he seemed to look even more handsome and manly. And God, he looks so fucking hot he should be put behind the bar.
But well, it’s a good thing no one bothered asking your opinion; how are you supposed to answer in front of a kid, anyway?  
You’ve always admired this man, that’s for sure. He and his neatly ironed suits, clean-cut hair, and authoritative nature had always been an incredible sight to look at— but this new look?
This.
This makes you think of lewd things in broad daylight.
“Well, buddy your best friend doesn’t seem to mind it,” Aaron caught your eye through the screen, a small smile playing on his lips. 
Crimson red dusted on your cheeks with the teasing, but you managed to smile back. “Uhuh, it’s not so bad, Jack. Maybe you’ll get used to it.”
Jack scrunched his nose but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he picked up his sandwich again and took a big bite. You shook your head in amusement, holding Aaron’s gaze on the screen briefly before you had to look away because...
That damn fucking beard.
“Alright, I also have to grab some dinner now,” Aaron said after a few beats of silence. “Jack, be good for her, okay? She might run away if you continue scaring her. We don’t want that, do we?”
Jack nodded, still chewing. “Okay, Dad. No more.”
“I love you, buddy.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
“And you,” Aaron’s voice softened even more as he addressed you, a soft crinkle present in his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”
You could only nod, and smile, and look away as your heart pounded against your chest. “No worries. Keep safe, Mr. Hotchner.”
He gave you one last look, his eyes filled with warmth and something you couldn’t decipher, before the call disconnected. With a sigh, you looked back at Jack, who was already reaching for a second sandwich wrap, mumbling about how his father would soon end up like Hagrid.
The soft click echoed in the quiet house as you closed the door behind you. You slipped off your high heels, groaning and wincing in pain, before dropping your keys into the bowl on the console table. The house feels emptier than usual, with Jack spending the night at his Aunt Jessica’s. It was a setup that she and Aaron agreed on before; to let Jack stay overnight every Friday and go home by the afternoon the next day.
As you make your way down the hallway, it doesn’t escape your notice that the kitchen lights are open. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home, not at this late hour anyway, and the sight stopped you in your tracks. Burglar was your first thought.
So naturally, you took several tentative steps closer, peeking around the corner.
Surprise flickered across Aaron’s features as he noticed you, quickly masking it with a strained smile. He was standing by the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of brandy open.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice rougher than how you remembered months ago, “I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”
“I should say the same to you.”
You had no idea he’s coming home today. His travel-worn face was illuminated by the warm kitchen light; a glass of amber liquid swirls in the rock glass in his hand. While his eyes were shadowed with something unreadable, never leaving yours. 
You manage a small smile in return, though it feels heavy. “But yeah, the date ended earlier than expected.”
Not just the date but your entire evening hadn’t gone as planned, and you can still feel the weight of disappointment tugging at your shoulders.
Aaron nodded but didn’t say anything about it.
Silence settled between the two of you. His eyes flickered to the drink in his hand, while he took a slow sip, as if buying time. You didn’t dare glance away as you stepped further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in front of him.
“I didn’t know you’d be home today. How was your trip?” you asked, genuinely curious but also eager to fill the void.
He shrugged, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Busy. Tiring. The usual.” His gaze returned to you, lingering a moment too long. “You okay?”
The concern in his voice was unmistakable. You nodded, but the gesture also felt hollow. “Yeah, just... you know, one of those nights.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, and he looked away, staring into his glass. “Want to talk about it?”
You hesitated, not sure if you’re ready to unpack the disappointment just yet, and also considering the fact that he must be tired from his flight. But there’s something in Aaron’s presence that you always found comforting, you just had to go on.
“Maybe later,” you said softly, wandering your eyes around until it landed on the wine shelf. “Can I join you?”
He nodded without hesitation, watching you in silence as you grab a bottle of wine from the rack. Aaron’s eyes met yours again as you settled back, and for a moment, something flickered in their depths— something that makes your heart skip a beat.
Aaron’s eyes were focused on you as you set the bottle on the counter and reach for the corkscrew. The maroon silk of your dress catches the light; it was a simple one, nothing too flashy nor revealing. Just enough to accentuate your figure and compliment your skin well. You don’t understand why heat licked your neck as you became aware of Aaron’s eyes lingering on you.
With a soft pop, the cork comes free, and you pour yourself a generous amount. You took your own seat on the barstool. And with your slow movements, the maroon dress clings to your form, highlighting your curves in a way that makes Aaron’s breath catch.
He tried to look away, but his apprehensive eyes kept returning to you.
“There’s a practice game this Sunday. Jack will be happy to know you’ll be watching,” you cleared your throat, eyes focused on the alcohol swirling around the clear glass.
Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, trying to collect his thoughts, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. The dress, with its silky sheen and soft drape, made you look not just elegant but breathtakingly sexy- a fact that Aaron is finding increasingly hard to ignore.
“Yeah, I’m planning to surprise him tomorrow. Maybe we can pick him up early from Jess? Then we can grab a lunch outside.”
You gave him a smile. “Sure, sounds nice.”
As you settled deeper into the conversation, your attention narrowed down to Aaron. He’s leaning against the marble counter, the soft kitchen light casting a warm glow on him. His beard was slightly thicker than you remember, giving him an almost roguish look that you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive. And hot.
He’s so hot.
He was clad in one of his work shirts, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The shirt fits him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and the hint of muscle underneath. Even the veins running through the surface of his arm were visible. 
The sight makes your heart flutter, and you found yourself admiring the way he looked tonight, with a brandy glass cradled in his big, calloused hand. You wonder how it would feel to have those strong hands grip you tightly, his fingers playing with your pussy, his lips on your neck.
“So,” Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “how was the date?”
You took a sip of your drink, the question making your chest tighten again, but you answered lightly. “It was... okay, I guess? Not what I anticipated, though.”
His eyes are on your face, but they keep flickering to your dress, tracing the line of your collarbone, the soft curve of your shoulder. “What happened?”
“He was nice and all… but I don’t know…” Aaron nodded as you struggled recalling the events of evening, and you can tell he wants more details. “It’s just awkward, as always.”
“Did you go anywhere special?”
“We went to that new Italian place downtown. Dave said the food was great so I wanted to try…” you swirl the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid catch the light. The movement makes the dress shimmer, and Aaron’s gaze follows the motion, almost mesmerized. “I just thought it’d be better, you know? It’s our third date, anyway.”
Aaron’s gaze softened, and he took a sip of his drink. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. Well, that’s what happens, I guess,” You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.
“Yeah,” his eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
You both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Aaron’s eyes lingered on you before finally, he spoke again, his tone light but his curiosity evident. 
“Did he at least appreciate the dress? You look... incredible tonight.”
A blush warmed your cheeks, making you giggle to yourself. “He did compliment it, but I don’t think he noticed much beyond that.”
“He’s an idiot then,” Aaron said quickly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Then he looked down, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. “I mean, it’s a beautiful dress, and it suits you really well.”
The compliment made your smile grow wider.
“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” your cheeks heat up as quickly as you realize what you’ve just said, but you don’t think you have to take it back. “Pakistan’s that rough?”
“You could say that,” Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise and a touch of pleasure. He straightened slightly, a small, almost bashful yet equally beautiful smile playing on his lips. “I’m pretty sure Jack will volunteer to shave this beard off.”
“But it suits you…” you murmured mostly to yourself, your eyes tracing the line of his jaw and the way the beard added a certain depth to his features. “He’s just teasing you.”
Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that draws your attention to the subtle flex of his muscle. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it was too much.”
“No, it’s perfect,” you replied, your voice softening. “Makes you look... distinguished.”
He took a slow sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself caught in the moment, drowning in his presence and the wetness slowly pooling in between your thighs.
“So you like it?”
Oh, you love it. “Yes.”
Aaron stepped a little closer, settling beside you as you glanced up at him from your seat. The scent of his perfume, mixed with the subtle hint of brandy, filled your senses. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“Tell me about your date,” he said, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of something more in his eyes.
“There’s not much to tell,” you said with a laugh, your voice catching slightly. “It was just... dull and boring.”
“Dull? How so?”
“Just…” you bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as you smiled up at him. “You know.”
“I can’t say I know, doll. Use your words.”
Your heart raced but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stared back at him with the same intensity, blinking through your eyelashes almost innocently. “He… he doesn’t make me feel like you do.”
A beat.
Your heart drummed wildly against your ears.
And Aaron’s eyes darkened with the invitation.
“And how do I make you feel, angel?” he whispered softly.
“Like you actually want me.”
“Which I fucking do,” he leaned in, his breath slowly mingling with yours. “More than you know.”
Aaron’s hand moved to your waist, his touch light but possessive. Your heart pounded wildly as you stared into his eyes.
“Show me then,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” you breathed, your lips just a hair’s breadth away from his.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly slow and deliberately teasing way.
“Aaron...” you whined, your voice heavy with need. “Please...”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t k-know…”
His grip tightened on your hips, his voice rough and demanding. “I think you’re lying, pretty girl.”
“Aaron...”
“I said,” he asked again, gruffly this time. “What do you want?”
“Want your m-mouth on me, Aaron, please...”
A quick swipe of his tongue wetted his lower lip, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good girl.”
His hand tightened on your waist, drawing you even closer. And all you knew from that second is the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.
“Aaron-” a low growl rumbled from his chest as your fingers tangled through his hair, pushing him even closer to your dripping cunt. “Tha- God, that feels good…”
Aaron hummed lightly, running the calloused pad of his palm on the soft surface of your thighs, feeling the bumps rising on your skin along with your pleasure. He darted his eyes to your face with his mouth still on your cunt, his lips nibbling your clit, watching you breathe heavily while containing the whine caught right in your throat.
When you propped onto your elbow and met his gaze, you could barely register the drunk look on his eyes.
“I’m c-close…” you whispered, pleadingly so. “Aaron… please…”
You didn’t have to say anything else. The contrast between the softness of his lips and the coarseness of his beard creates a heady, intoxicating burn. The rough graze of his beard against your inner thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back, forcing yourself closer to his mouth, to his touch; even closer to his heat.
You have never been treated this way– never had a partner who takes pleasure in pleasuring you. The warmth of Aaron’s breath fanned through your clit as he licked and prod his tongue on your entrance, feeling the burning scrape of his stubble with every movement. It’s both gentle and painful, enough to make your skin tingle and your heart race; chasing the heightening pleasure and your incoming orgasm.
“So good, doll…” he whispered roughly, encouragingly, his attention focused only at you. “Fuck, it’s so hot.”
He leaned away only for a moment, straightening his back as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. In the blink of an eye, the sight of his muscular chest and soft stomach salivated you. You’ve known he’s hairy, but now that you saw the dark trail of hair on his abdomen down to his…
Aaron looked smug.
“Dirty girl, like what you’re seeing?”
You hummed hoarsely. “Want you, please. D-daddy?”
Aaron groaned at your words. And you noticed how his palm flew to the obvious bulge on his pants, squeezing his aching cock as if your words hurt him. Or pleased him, you don’t know. All you registered was the faint satisfaction in his smile and the glint of hunger in his piercing eyes.
He ran his palm on your thighs lovingly. “Cum on Daddy’s mouth first. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
Although he posed that as a question, you knew it was an order. And who are you to defy him when he generously licked through your folds and sucked on your clit like a starved man? He’s not devouring you like relinquishing his final meal; instead, like you are the very first meal he ever tasted and cannot get enough of. He eats you like someone will take you away from him. But even if they do, he wants to make sure it’s his mouth and big cock you’ll crawl back to.
The world seemed so far away as you let yourself drown in the pleasure, all while Aaron occasionally fucks his tongue in and out of your needy cunt.
“Close, angel?” he asked before spitting on your pussy and swirling his tongue on your clit. “You taste like heaven, baby.”
You nodded dumbly.
“You’ve no idea how many nights I fucked my fist to this thought.”
Your release inched closer, roused by his deep groans and heavy breathing. You were not even past the vulgar image of him spitting on your cunt when you felt one of his fingers gently swiping through your wetness, his touch light as a ghost, and you shuddered as you realized what will come next.
You gasped and moaned, and grabbed a fistful of his hair on both of your hands. “Need you n-now, please… enough…”
“Just one, angel. Just give me one on my tongue,” he demanded, his eyes dark with need. “You can do that for Daddy, right baby? I’ll fuck you good later, I promise.”
You clenched around his finger as he slowly slid into you, then out, slowly gaining rhythm and speed that reflected your racing heart. He thrust in and out, and in and out, until he decided you could take another finger, then another one. You’ve never felt so full, but good God if you say you didn’t fantasize about getting fingerfucked by your boss, you’d be sent to hell for lying.
He nibbled. He sucked. He licked. His fingers never once stopped assaulting your wet, squelching cunt. With every drag of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you could hear a deep growl rumbling through his chest. And his eyes watched you, taking in the way you writhe in pleasure, the way your thighs tremble, and how your eyes welled in tears.
“Please… p-please…” you whimpered pathetically, your fingers tightening on his hair. “C-close, ‘m so close… daddy…”
“Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, be a good girl.”
“D-daddy!” you screamed loudly when his teeth grazed your now sensitive clit.
“Fucking cum for me. Make me proud, angel.”
Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your orgasm ripped through you. His words grew distant as it happened, showering you still with lewd praises: how good you taste, how warm and tight your cunt would be, and how he expects you to take his big cock.
“S-stop… A-” you trashed away from his grip. “Too m-much. D-daddy, no! Stop! S-stop! Too much!”
His fingers continued abusing the sensitive nerves deep inside you, groaning loudly as your walls tightened around him. “A little more, sweet girl. One more for Daddy…”
“N-no–” Tears slid down your cheeks in overstimulation, feeling the rough drag of his fingers inside your tight cunt and his lips on your clit. “Oh, g-god! I’m close again… D-daddy! Don’t s-stop, p-please!”
“Good girl, angel. Look at you... that’s it, baby.”
He trailed wet kisses along your skin as he moved upward, kneading your tits, lingering a bit longer on your hardened nipples. You haven’t gone down from your last orgasm when you already felt the tip of his cock prodding at your pulsating cunt.
You whimpered weakly, not fully aware of your surrounding anymore.
“Hey, hey…” you heard Aaron whisper, his voice soft and gentle, caressing your face lovingly as he observed your expression. “Good? Do you want to stop, sweetheart?”
You shook your head. “I will kill you if you stop.”
“Ah,” he let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yes, Ma’am.”
His pace was slow at first, achingly so and deliberate. But it didn’t last long. From laying on your back on the cold, marble kitchen counter, you found yourself bent over on the kitchen table, with Aaron’s girthy cock ramming in and out of your cunt. And all you could do was take it, moaning loudly to Aaron’s satisfaction.
“Fucking hell. Should’ve fucked this pussy long before–” he rambled deeply from behind, pistoling his hips at a brutal pace. “You like this, huh? You like Daddy fucking your tight pussy?”
You bit your thumb as your legs trembled, but you didn’t answer.
And that’s when you felt it.
A harsh slap on your ass.
“Answer me, you fucking slut,” he drawled in between heavy breaths. “Did I fuck you dumb, huh?”
“Y-yes–” you struggled to say, trying to keep your legs steady amidst the intense waves of pleasure. “G-good… so much…”
Aaron barked an amused laugh. “Fuck. You sound so cockdrunk.”
With each thrust, you felt the familiar coil tightening on your stomach. Your words were muffled as you tried to warn him, and all that came out of your lips was a high-pitched whimper. 
Aaron’s grip on your hips hardened. “I’m c-close. Where should I cum, angel? Inside? Should I cum inside?”
“C-close…” you echoed mindlessly, not understanding a word he said.
“Do you want me to fuck a baby inside you?”
“Yes… y-yes… inside, Daddy, please....”
Tears streamed down your cheeks when you felt Aaron’s hot cum spill inside you, his thick cock throbbing. You trembled against him as you reached your own climax, your lips drawn to a silent scream as he expertly rubbed your clit through your orgasm.
“One more. Can you give Daddy one more, sweet girl?” you heard him whisper encouragingly.
With a strained moan and eyes shut tight, you finally let out a gush of release. The force was so sudden Aaron had to pull out and watch his own cum drip down your thighs. His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at the pool of wetness glistening on his kitchen floor.
And fucking hell, that felt so good.
Aaron didn’t waste a second and quickly knelt behind you, separating your weak and trembling legs carefully before running his tongue on your spent and dripping cunt. You shivered at the feeling of his beard scratching the back of your thigh but you let him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue following the trail of his own release that drips down your legs.
“Too m-much, Aaron. Please…” you plead softly, sighing as you felt his fingers spread out your pussy.
“Just a taste, angel. Can you push out more of my cum?”
He keened and hummed as he gathered his own release on his tongue. And before you even know it, he was already kissing you, watching his own cum and spit reach your waiting tongue as you innocently glanced up at him, a far-gone look on your face.
“You’re such a sweet girl,” he whispered later on as he gently laid you down on his warm bed, now wrapped in his old, oversized t-shirt and newly bathed.
He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, and cheeks, then nose, before kissing you lovingly on the lips. “Rest now, sweetheart. I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.”
For tag list request, here.
Your girl finally got her energy back after taking 4 pills of Vitamin B. LOL. Sorry for the long wait! Anyway, as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated. Hope you're having an incredible day and drink your water! (PS. Do you guys know I just realized I can reblog your reblogs with comments? I'm so dumb.)
Tags: @kimstills @readergf @downbad4reid @gghostwriter @elhotchner @pastelpinkflowerlife @the1boss @roseydoesypoesy @khxna @hangmanscoming @apollolynx98 @its-just-me-chey
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ram-ma-lamb-ma · 2 years ago
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Denver Midcentury Dining Room Inspiration for a mid-sized mid-century modern dark wood floor enclosed dining room remodel with beige walls and no fireplace
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heich0e · 10 months ago
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the itadori house always smells faintly of clean laundry.
it's not because the two boys who live there are particularly diligent about staying on top of their housework—the towering pile of recyclables in the corner of the kitchen is proof enough of that—but it's because the first time yuuji had tried to do his own laundry, he used way too much detergent. the ensuing tsunami of soap suds had flooded nearly half-way across the tiny apartment—coating the floors, the baseboards, and anything else in its path, in a slippery (though pleasantly fragranced) froth that took DAYS for the two brothers to clean up. it must have sunk in to the floorboards, or there must still be traces of it lingering in nooks and crannies that they couldn't reach, because even now, years after the catastrophe, the scent still lingers.
even though the mere mention of the incident still makes a vein of irritation throb in sukuna's forehead, and makes yuuji hang his head in shame, you don't mind the smell. it's familiar after all these years. it reminds you of this place.
you burrow your face down into the cushion of the living room sofa. it's raining today, and a bit humid, so the scent of detergent is particularly strong.
you're nearly asleep when a voice interrupts your quiet moment of relaxation.
"i should start charging you rent, y'know."
you don't open your eyes, even once you hear the words that come from above you. even without looking, you can picture the scene: sukuna leaning over the back of the sofa that you're sprawled across, his weight resting on his elbows as he peers down at you with his usual scowl. it's not the same scowl he shows to everyone else—the one that makes people shrink back under his gaze—this is a softer version of the same expression, dulled by familiarity. if you were more optimistic you might even say it was blunted by affection.
"stop pretending to sleep, kid." you feel his hand grasp your hip, shaking you lightly. "i know you're faking."
you feel a smile threatening to pull at your lips so you turn your face towards the pillow—the one you bought for the sofa, since the itadori brothers' idea of home decor is limited to creased posters for old mafia movies nobody's ever heard of and women with their tits out taped to the wall—and you burrow down to hide your expression from view.
"you're such a nuisance," sukuna groans, and then you feel the sofa dip. you figure he's pulled himself over the back of it now, based on how you feel him kneeling overtop of you with your legs straddled between his own. you're on your belly, but you can feel him rest back on his haunches, trapping your feet underneath him as he sits. "can't you nap at your own house?"
"too tired," you finally rasp out, daring to peek at him over your shoulder.
"and i'm not?" he scoffs, lifting his hand and pushing his hair back from his face. he's still half-dressed in his work uniform—a pair of slacks from the security company he's been working at part-time for the past few weeks, and a white t-shirt that he usually wears underneath the short sleeved button down that matches the trousers. "i just worked a double—been up since 4."
he does look tired, now that you have the chance to look at him. his hair is a bit dishevelled and he's got dark circles under his eyes. sukuna always looks a bit exhausted—and has since grandpa passed away and he took on the responsibility of raising yuuji. but it's particularly noticeable right now.
"and i can't even come home and take a nap on my own couch because there's a freeloader here."
you bite the inside of your cheek, wiggling around a bit underneath him so you can lay on your back.
"charge me rent then," you parry back to his complaint, and he cocks an eyebrow at your challenge. "i want a bed though. s'only fair."
"we'll get bunkbeds for yuuji's room, then," sukuna quips.
"don't wanna bunk with yuuji," you counter again, "he snores."
sukuna pauses, staring down at you. he leans forward slowly, his hands pressing into the couch cushion on either side of your waist as he dips towards you. "only one other bedroom in this place, y'know—"
you do know. it's why you said it.
"—and i have no plans to give up my bed."
sukuna is close to you now. too close, in any other circumstance, but this is one entirely of your own creation. a circumstance that feels more like an inevitability than anything, given the tension that's been crackling between the two of you lately, ever since he rescued you that night at the bar.
"didn't ask you to give it up," you say quietly, your eyes flickering across his features until they eventually settle on his lips.
sukuna makes a little noise in the back of his throat, close to annoyance, but not quite. distinctly tortured in nature.
"you really, really are a nuisance, y'know that?"
his hands are on your hips now. not like when he'd shaken you awake—this touch is greedier, needier than that passing graze. his fingertips slip up underneath the hem of your shirt until they brush against your bare skin, and the contact makes your body flush with heat.
"yuuji's gonna be back from class soon," you murmur softly, your gaze flickering back up to sukuna's heavy-lidded eyes. his nose twitches a little in annoyance, knowing you're right.
sukuna backs away a little, his hands slipping back out from underneath your shirt.
you sit up and catch his wrist in your hand, and his eyes widen in surprise. your faces are close together now—so close you can smell the cinnamon gum on his breath. he stole a pack from you a few days ago, and clearly he's still chewing it.
you can't smell the laundry detergent anymore.
"i didn't tell you to stop," you remark lightly, leaning back so you're splayed out against the sofa once more. you stare up at him, waiting for him to process what you've said—watching the thoughts play out across his uncharacteristically shocked face. "i just meant that you should hurry up and do it already."
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mapis-putellas · 2 months ago
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𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆’𝒔 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒅?
Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader
Words: 1300
Warnings: none
Summary: Alexia’s loses her beloved Fred, a stuffed giraffe you’d given her on your one year anniversary.
Notes: Changed my writing style up a little. Hope it’s somewhat okay
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You stepped into the house, expecting to find Alexia in her usual spot on the couch or in the kitchen. Instead, the sight that greeted you was an absolute mess—blankets strewn about, pillows tossed to the floor, and Alexia standing in the middle of it all, looking utterly defeated. Her face was blotchy, her eyes red from crying, and when she saw you, her expression crumpled even further.
"Ale, what happened?" you asked, quickly dropping your bag and stepping over the clutter to reach her.
Her bottom lip wobbled as she tried to speak, her voice choked with emotion. "Fred... he's... he's gone," she managed, her accent thick with distress.
You blinked, a mix of confusion and amusement flickering over your face. "Fred?"
She looked up at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The... giraffe. You know," she said, sniffling, her voice trembling. "You gave him... one year ago. Anniversary."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the memory surfaced. For your first anniversary, you'd found a little stuffed giraffe and gifted it to her, joking that it reminded you of her—tall, unique, and utterly adorable. To your surprise, she'd taken to it immediately, naming him Fred and declaring him her "little amigo." Since then, Fred had become a surprising constant in Alexia's life, stashed in her training bag, sitting on her bedside table, and even sometimes making the journey to the locker room with her.
You hadn't realized how much he meant to her until now.
"Fred is... gone?" you echoed, trying to sound sympathetic despite the amusement bubbling up inside you. It was a little stuffed giraffe, after all.
"Yes!" she practically wailed, burying her face into her hands. "I... I looked everywhere. Todo la casa. Todo," she said, her voice muffled.
Your heart softened as you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Hey, hey. We'll find him, I promise."
She looked up at you, a spark of hope in her teary eyes. "Really?"
"Really," you said, squeezing her shoulder. "You know, Fred can't have gotten far.”
She sniffed, managing a small smile. "Sí... maybe he just... he went to explore."
You started searching the house together, combing through every room. Alexia seemed to be calming down a little with each room you checked, though her anxiety was still palpable as she checked every possible nook and cranny. You turned over cushions, looked under the couch, peeked in closets—even checked the fridge, though that one earned you a puzzled glance from Alexia.
"Just in case Fred got hungry," you said, grinning, and she rolled her eyes, finally laughing a little through her worry.
But after nearly an hour of searching, there was still no sign of Fred. Alexia sat down on the couch, fresh tears pooling in her eyes as she looked up at you. "I... I think he's... gone," she whispered.
You knelt in front of her, brushing a thumb across her cheek to wipe away a tear. "Hey, don't say that. We'll find him, okay? Fred's just... probably hiding somewhere you haven't thought of yet."
She nodded, looking down at her lap. "I just... I feel silly," she mumbled, her accent thick as she tried to explain herself. "He's... only a giraffe. But he... means much."
You felt a pang in your chest at her vulnerability. "He's more than just a giraffe to you, though. He's special."
Her eyes met yours, and she nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Sí. You... gave him to me. He's my... little Fred."
"Let's keep looking," you said, standing and offering her your hand. "One more sweep, and if we still can't find him, we'll retrace your steps. Maybe he got left somewhere."
She took your hand, squeezing it gratefully. "Thank you.”
After combing through the house once more with no luck, you decided to check her car. It was the last place Alexia could remember seeing him, though she was adamant that she'd brought him inside the previous day.
As you opened the passenger side door, you felt a small thrill of victory. There, tucked neatly into the seatbelt, sat Fred, looking perfectly content.
"Oh my God," you whispered, trying to stifle your laughter as you reached in to grab the stuffed giraffe. "Alexia, I found him!"
She hurried over, her eyes widening as she saw Fred safely buckled into the passenger seat. A mixture of relief and embarrassment washed over her face as she reached out, taking him into her arms and hugging him tightly.
"You... you were in the car?" she murmured to the toy, her voice soft, as if she were scolding him. She looked up at you, cheeks flushed. "I... I forgot him there?"
You grinned, unable to resist teasing her just a little. "Looks like he decided he wanted a front-row seat for the drive."
She huffed, but there was a glint of laughter in her eyes. "Don't... make fun of me," she muttered, clutching Fred protectively to her chest.
You leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm not. I'm just glad we found him. And that he's safe and sound."
Alexia's expression softened as she looked down at Fred, giving him one last squeeze before she turned back to you. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice full of gratitude.
"Anytime," you replied, wrapping an arm around her as the two of you headed back inside. "Fred is practically part of the family, after all."
She gave you a warm smile, resting her head on your shoulder as you walked back into the house together.
That evening, after dinner and a movie, you found yourselves curled up in bed. Alexia lay beside you, Fred tucked under one arm, nestled against her chest as she settled comfortably into your side. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, brushing a hand through her hair as she closed her eyes, clearly exhausted from the day's events.
"Going to sleep with him tonight?" you teased gently, running your fingers up and down her arm.
She nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips as she glanced at you. "Yes. Just... in case. No more... lost Fred."
You chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Sounds like a good plan.”
For a while, you lay there in comfortable silence, the soft rhythm of her breathing mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. She shifted closer, her body warm against yours as she nestled further into your embrace.
"You know," you whispered, breaking the silence, "it was really sweet how much you cared about finding him. It just shows how much love you have in your heart.
She looked up at you, a small blush coloring her cheeks. "It's... because of you. You give him to me, so... he's special."
You smiled, gently rubbing her back as you held her close. "Well, I'm glad Fred means so much to you. And I promise I'll always help you find him if he ever gets lost again."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I'll... keep better eye," she promised, a determined glint in her eyes. "No more... lost Fred."
"Good," you murmured, resting your forehead against hers. "Because I don't like seeing you sad."
She sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing soft patterns on your shoulder as she relaxed into your hold. "Thank you," she whispered again, her voice filled with quiet affection.
"Anytime, mi amor," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
As you lay there, holding Alexia and her little stuffed giraffe close, you felt a profound sense of contentment wash over you. In that moment, everything felt perfect—your heart full with the knowledge that you'd do anything to keep her and her cherished Fred safe and happy.
Eventually, her breathing evened out, and you knew she'd fallen asleep, Fred clutched securely in her arms. You pressed one last gentle kiss to her forehead before settling in beside her, knowing that she'd wake up with a smile, her precious giraffe safely by her side.
**
Tags:
@codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @marysfics @ceesimz @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan
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thatssewcustom · 3 months ago
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thoughtssvt · 5 months ago
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you know what's actually unmatched?
aizawa shouta chronic-dry-eye-by-quirk x reader chronic-dry-eye-worsened-by-chronic-crying
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costco trips are only to buy packs and packs of multipack eye drops, a comfortable quiet silence draping over the two of you when you get home. the two of you meticulously wrapping stickers around the bottles to easily differentiate between yours and his. every nook and cranny of your house hides two bottles of eyedrops. both your night stand, a cabinet in your kitchen- and just to be sure, a few bottles in your junk drawer-- under a specific corner of the couch cushions. you find them anywhere and everywhere, always having to double check if there aren't any strays in your pockets before doing laundry. there are countless bottles in your personal bags, a pocket sewn into his sleeping bag just for his eyedrops, they fill his desk at work. you'd think it was a bit overkill but those bottles run empty in two months at the latest.
even though he hates seeing you in tears for whatever small reason like a coming-home-reunion video, what makes it better is the way you let him hook a finger under your chin, tilting your face to the ceiling as he gently drops artificial tears into your water line. the gasp of relief slipping through your lips as the cool water cascades over your eyes, flushing your salty tears away.
"better?" he hums, voice rumbling in his chest, slyly slipping your phone out of your fingers because that's enough social media for the day.
he loves finding you sitting at his desk in UA's teachers' shared office at the end of the school day. the way you cup his cheek, fingers running over the scruff as you notice the way his blinks seem forced. his hands lovingly running up and down your sides as you bring life back to his eyes.
it's gotten to the point that no matter the situation taking a moment to drip saline was as natural as breathing. it didn't disturb the momentum, there was never any pause. just you and him, love and dry eyes.
-
A/N : this was lowkey stupid but this is what came to mind because guys the eyedrops felt so good today. i was like "damn this is how aizawa must feel" probably first and last aizawa x reader thing though
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vigilskeep · 1 month ago
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Do you think maybe Villa Dellamorte has one of those massive pantries/root cellars and that that's where Lucanis used to hide away as a child? Tucked in somewhere dark and cool, reading his wyvern books by lamplight, the cooks and sculleries checking in on him and keeping him secret from Caterina? Maybe he found a blanket someone "accidentally" left there, or a small cushion, and never questioned the little basket of snacks that found its way into his nook.
i’d believe it! it definitely seems like the kitchens were a safe place for him and that’s one of the reasons he has such positive associations with cooking and being around the food. when the crossroads magically smell like home and comfort: “coffee. like illario and i smelled in the kitchen where we grew up.” and from banter with emmrich; “i used to help the kitchen staff in the villa when i was a boy. it gave me something to do between lessons with caterina.” “so it’s not a crow skill for hiding poisons in food.” “it’s good for that, too. but mostly i just wanted to know how to make churros.” something he was allowed to do just out of interest, that can even be passed off as useful for his training. remembered kindnesses from the staff would mesh well with how much compassion he has for the household slaves in the wigmaker job. i can see them letting him hide away in the pantry like you say and pretending he’s sooo good at assassinning that they couldn’t possibly notice
less directly connected to his pantry-based living habits, but i also think we have a canon version of something like what you describe that he kept completely to himself: the secret “escape route” you take into the villa dellamorte, about which he says “illario doesn’t know it’s here. caterina didn’t even tell me about it. i found it playing here alone as a boy.” and it’s a sort of cave-like passageway under the house. you KNOW that was his little wyvern lair and that he really loved it if he didn’t even share with illario
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marauroon · 8 months ago
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congrats on another new blog for a new fandom 🤭
as a blog-warming request, can we add another fic to the best friend James with no boundaries pile???
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HYPOTHERMIC - J.POTTER
you are the only feasible solution that james can think of to warm up his frozen extremities
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cw — james and reader have an unconventional friendship, james and sirius being brothers as per, swearing, typical teenage antics
james potter x fem!reader || fluff || 1.8k || requests open!!
a/n: another new blog has spawned for another fandom (the marauders are encapsulating all of my thoughts rn)🤭 thanks for the ‘blog-warming’ request ml 🫶🫶
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It’s a crime James thinks, to have snow in April. It never snows in April back down in England, hell they’re not likely to have snow at all.
But apparently living up north in Scotland spelled different news.
It was even more of a crime that he had to go out in the snow. Quidditch was great, but no one should have to be flying in -2° weather.
It was April, it was snowing, and James was cold.
By the time the team hit the showers he swore his fingers were going to fall off from hypothermia, a sentiment shared by most of his teammates as they spent a collective ten extra minutes under the hot water.
The trudge back to the Gryffindor common room was almost as treacherous as the training itself, the stone walls of the castle doing absolutely nothing to block the chill that ran through it’s corridors.
Sirius swears to him that he sees some of the paintings shaking, and honestly he can’t blame them, he’s practically shivering himself and he had a long-sleeved t-shirt and a jumper on.
He has one singular plan. Sit in front of the fire and stay there until he was sure that all of his organs had defrosted, even if that meant missing dinner. That was a lie, he would definitely leave the embering comfort of the fireplace for dinner.
Now he was thinking about it, he was starving. Maybe he could convince Sirius or Peter to go down to the kitchens early with him to sneak something back up.
There’s an almost unanimous sigh of relief as the team walk through the fat lady’s portrait, like their muscles relax just from seeing the familiar red and gold decor and decide to just give up right then and there.
It’s a sight to be seen for sure, a majority of the student’s who’d taken up the lounge sofas and chairs for the afternoon looking on at the group with raised eyebrows and small muttered chuckles at their collective state.
“Have fun then?” There’s a decided smirk on Remus’ face as James and Sirius drag themselves over to the nook that you and him had curled yourselves into over the last few hours, and the two boys share a glance before turning it in your paired direction with a dissatisfied glare of jealousy.
You could not look comfier if you tried, tucked in either corner of one of the long sofas right next to the fire with blankets over your laps and flushed cheeks from the warmth of the room.
James is the one to give up on his seething anger first, practically collapsing himself onto the unoccupied space between you and Remus and flopping over until he’s got his face firmly planted across your knees, a loud defeated groan rumbling from his throat and vibrating through the blanket to meet your skin.
“I’ll take that as a no—” You can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your mouth at the display, unperturbed by the side eye you gain as James adjusts himself so that he can lie on you without suffocating himself or crushing his glasses.
“I swear my organs were freezing over out there,”
“That’s a little dramatic,” Remus shakes his head from behind the book propped up against his knees, amused smirk still lining his features.
“It is not dramatic Moony, we were getting hypothermic out there, seriously,” Sirius gives a tug to James’ legs so that he can sit down with his head over the back of the cushion, and it leaves James sat on the floor as a result.
“Oi, first come first served—” James tugs one of the decorative pillows you have tucked under your arm from you so that he can throw it at Sirius’ head, and it is promptly returned by Sirius with a middle finger and a triumphant look to go with it.
James lets out a sharp scoff of indignation as he rears the pillow for another throw, but its plucked from his, stiff, frozen hands before he has the chance to.
“That’s enough both of you, we were trying to have a calm afternoon here,” You scold the two with no real malice as you tuck the pillow back into it’s spot underneath your arm, and James sighs heavily as he slings his arms over your legs to rest his chin on top of them.
“It’s not my fault Sirius doesn’t understand sofa etiquette,”
“You were hogging the whole thing,” Sirius scrunches up his face in exasperation, gesturing outwards widely with his hand and almost knocking the book right out of Remus’ lap. “Sorry-”
Remus sighs, and the two of you share a glance and a silent shake of your heads.
You loved the boys to death, but my god did they not know the concept of sitting still for more than five minutes.
That point was only further proven as James gets up from the floor to wedge himself between you and Sirius, giving his leg a deft kick in the process for payback as he tried to worm himself in between your side and the back of the sofa.
“James—” The movement laves you lost for balance, and you almost tumble right off the edge of the sofa as he invades your spot, one of your legs falling from the seat to brace against the floor.
“What? I’m cold, and you’re right next to the fire,” His invasion continues as he tugs the blanket you have draped over you towards himself until it’s covering his lower body entirely and leaving you half-uncovered.
“You can’t just kick me out of my spot—” You huff, more than a little miffed at being forcibly removed from the position you’d spent almost ten minutes perfectly arranging to make you as comfortable as possible for the afternoon.
“I’m not, I’m not,” There’s a strong grasp around your torso, and then you’re being tugged backwards until your half situated on top of him with your back to his chest. “I’m sharing your spot,” His words are emphasised by his chin landing against your shoulder and his arms encircling your waist like you’re a soft toy a child would take to bed.
It wouldn’t be too bad of a position if you couldn’t literally feel how cold James was through your clothes, like a human ice pack attached to your back.
“You’re freezing James—”
“I know,” He takes your words as an affirmation to bury his face against your shoulder, curling up his legs under the blanket and in turn forcing you to do the same. “I’m warming myself up,”
“The fire’s over there mate,” Remus and Sirius share an incredulous look at the two of you. “She’s not a heating pad,”
You have half the mind to agree with them, and James can feel the way you nod at the observation, responding with a dissatisfied grumble and his hands pulling up the hem of the jumper you’re wearing to warm his icy extremities against your skin.
“James—” The temperature makes you physically jolt, your back shooting up straight and forcing his head from it’s position against your shoulder.
“What?” He tugs you back against his chest with false innocence dripping from his vocal chords, his hands using your stomach as his own hot water bottle. “You’ll get used it it, it’ll be fine,”
“It is not fine, your hands are practically ice,”
“I was playing Quidditch in the snow,” He wastes no time in reclaiming his place with his head hidden against the crook of your neck. “Of course they are,”
“Ugh, you two make me sick,” Sirius puts his index finger inside his mouth in a mock gagging motion as he shifts to stuff his feet underneath Remus’ thighs in his own attempt at warming up.
“Sounds like jealousy to me,” James shrugs, and it jostles you slightly in his arms. “You don’t have to project Pads, we all know you’re sad because Moony won’t give you a cuddle,”
“That is not true,” Sirius huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, though his gaze turns to Remus nonetheless, and he is immediately met with a shake of Remus’ head. “Whatever,” He scoffs, raking a hand through his curls with an almost unnoticeable pout on his face. “Just get a room already will you? You’re disturbing everyone with your PDA,”
“Why don’t you just shut your mouth already?” James tilts his head with an annoyingly cocky smile, lifting his face just far enough off your shoulder so Sirius can get a good look at his expression. “I can smell your breath from over here,”
“You little—” Sirius rips one of the decorative pillows from underneath Remus to launch it at James’ head, but considering your position as a literal human shield it misses him completely, hitting you square in the face.
“Hey—” Your arms aren’t raised quick enough to block his assault, but they do return fire the minute the pillow is in your vicinity.
“Sorry sorry,” Sirius is more successful than you at blocking the projectiles pillow, laughing in the process. “Collateral damage, it’s what you get for pairing up with him,” Sirius scrunches up his nose in exaggerated disgust, and James responds by sticking one of his hands out of the blanket to flip him off.
You take the opportunity of James’ loosened grip to slip out of his arms and onto your feet, and his pettiness towards Sirius immediately turns into betrayal towards you. “Where are you going?”
“Somewhere actually quiet?” You roll your eyes at him in feigned indignation, a small chuckle bubbling in your throat. “I love you guys but you are ruining my cozy afternoon,”
“No no I’m sorry I won’t fight with Pads anymore don’t leave,” He reaches his arm out to grasp at your wrist, giving it a small tug. “Stay c’mon, please?”
You raise your eyebrow at him, clearly not believing a single word coming out of the boy’s mouth.
“I promise,” He extends his hand out with his pinky finger raised.
You give him a narrowed gaze, but upon a prompting of his hand as he waved it in your direction you linked your finger with his, and he used it as leverage to pull you right back into his grasp.
“See? It’s very cozy,” James ignores the way Sirius rolls his eyes as he shifts you around in his lap until you’re both comfortable.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
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danikamariewrites · 7 months ago
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Heist
Mob!Azriel x reader AU
Note: another day another Mob!Az fic for you all to think about teehee.
Warnings: mentions of violence and blood
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You giggled as Azriel lightly nipped at your cheek, his hand trying to sneak into the bowl of cookie dough. “Az,” you laugh out, smacking his hand away. “You can have some later when the rest of the Boy Scouts show up.”
Azriel rolls his eyes at the nickname. “I’ve told you, we are not Boy Scouts, we are-”
“A highly trained and dangerous group of powerful families that are allied.” You say, mimicking the overused statement. “Yes, yes I know Azzy, geez.” You tease, bumping him with your hip.
Moving from his grasp you bustle around the kitchen grabbing ingredients and plates. Azriel’s kitchen was gorgeous, and criminally under utilized. When you moved in it was all black and white, barely any ingredients or extra appliances.
“Oh this won’t do.” You had told Azriel, demanding you go shopping for every and anything you’d ever need for a kitchen. You gave the place a complete makeover, painting the walls and cabinets a lovely sage green and replacing the countertops. Adding an island and dark wood table and cushions to the breakfast nook the room was complete.
Coming back to stand between Azriel and the island you start scooping out the cookies. “You really don’t have to do this, you know.” You shrug, a generous scoop of dough and chocolate chips falling from your spoon. “I want to. Plus, I never really got to bake since work took up too much time. And your meetings go on forever, you guys absolutely need snacks.”
Leaning down Azriel presses a kiss to the back of your head. “You’re amazing, my love.” He says softly. You lean back into his chest, tilting your head back to stare at his pretty face. Turning, you hold up a finger with dough on it. Azriel’s eyes light up at the treat, licking it from your finger. Pushing up on your toes you peck his lips, murmuring, “I love you.”
Before Azriel could pull you to him and go for a more heated kiss, Rhys walks in, clearing his throat. “They’re here Az.” He nods at his brother, signaling Rhys’s dismissal.
A heavy sigh leaves his nose. Holding your face, Azriel gives you one last kiss. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
An hour later you were balancing a tea tray laden with chocolate chip cookies in your hands. The guard at the door smiles at you, knocking and opening one of the double doors for you. You nod in thanks as you quietly make your way to the occupied half of the table.
It was a small group today. Only Helion, Eris, Kal and their second and third in commands, along with a few other key members of their organizations. Reaching between Helion and Rhysand, you gently place the tray in the middle of the table.
The men looked hesitant to reach for the snack at first, but also didn’t want to be rude. “Thank you, my love.” Azriel says, giving you a small smile from his place at the head of the table. “Of course,” you whisper.
Azriel leads the conversation back to their plans, “Now, we can’t stand for this. The Molina family made us look like fools and trust me gentleman, that will not happen again. This robbery has to be big.” Odd, you thought to yourself, Azriel’s MO isn’t home robberies.
The pictures of the mansion in question spread across the table caught your eye. It’s familiarity had you titling your head, wracking your brain for where you’d seen it before.
then it hit you. The paintings on the wall! You knew them because you delivered them! Your lips parted slightly in surprise at your memory.
You felt Helion’s attention on you as he asked, “What’s wrong?” Your eyes snap to his deep brown ones, cheeks tinting red in embarrassment. Azriel takes his tone as rude but you brush it off, knowing he’s just curious about what you’re seeing.
You look to Azriel, not knowing if you have the right to give your input in a meeting. You didn’t want to make Azriel seem less in charge or something.
Azriel gives you a soft, encouraging look. “Go ahead, y/n. Tell us what you see.” You nod at him, dragging the picture of the paintings toward you. “These paintings are fakes.” A confusion spreads over the room as a few huh’s sound around the table.
“My boss got his hands on the real ones somehow, these are like rare pieces, hell museums would kill for these. Before he sold them I honestly thought they were in the Louvre. But he sold them to Molina Jr. who also requested fakes to display, since he bragged so much about buying them. They aren’t very good fakes if you ask me though.”
Helion brought the image closer to his face, attempting his untrained eye to see the falsity of the paintings. Kal snatched it from him, giving him a you-don’t-know-shit-about-art look.
Conversation bubbles around Azriel but all he can focus on is you. You and your beautiful, passionate, intelligent mind.
“Where would he keep the real ones?” Eris asks, breaking up the conversations and Azriel’s concentration on you. Though that didn’t last long. As soon as you opened your mouth Azriel was laser focused on you.
You give Eris a knowing smirk, “His vault, where I helped deliver the paintings.” Cassian and Kal let out laughs or triumph as the others gave you approving looks. Rhysand unrolls the blueprints to the mansion in front of you. “Alright y/n, point us in the right direction.”
Two hours later the heist was planned perfectly thanks to you. You waited in Azriel’s office as he bid his guests goodbye. Kicked back, sitting in his kingly leather chair, your feet propped up on the desk.
Hearing the door click shut you perk up. Azriel grins, strutting over to you. Crossing his arms he leans against the desk in front of you. “I don’t think I could’ve planned that without you.” You shrug at the praise. “Eh, you would’ve gotten by.”
Azriel nudges your feet off the polished wood, chuckling at you. Lifting you up and pulling you into his lap you immediately lean against his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
“You’re too modest, my love. Everyone was telling me how brilliant you are.” You giggle, burying your face deeper into Azriel’s chest at the compliment. Hooking his fingers under your chin, Az tilts your face up to meet his shimmering hazel gaze.
“My clever girl.” He hums, pressing his lips to yours. You slip your arms around his neck pulling him closer. Azriel stands, gently placing you on his desk. He nudges your thighs apart to stand between your legs, deepening the kiss. “I think you deserve a reward,” his voice had taken on a deep and seductive tone. That smirk promises a very pleasurable reward. Tugging on Azriel’s dark locks he pulls away from you, dropping to his knees.
——
Tonight is the big heist. When Azriel had kissed you goodbye you plastered a convincing smile on your face, trying to ignore your heart pounding so hard against your chest you thought it was trying to escape.
You were always nervous when Azriel went out with his men for a job. Pacing the TV room, more like a theater, you dug your toes into the carpet to focus on something other than Azriel. You had lots to keep you distracted like a book, your favorite show cued up, your phone. However, moving around was a necessity right this very second.
The first time Azriel went on a job after you moved in was a disaster. You had a panic attack so bad not even Baxian, your bodyguard, could calm you down. Baxian was on the verge of calling Azriel as he walked through the front door. It made him contemplate never leaving you again.
You still can’t decide if you’d rather Az not tell you and just be blissfully ignorant. Or if you would still worry if he was out until all hours of the night. You’d probably still worry but worse.
In the silence you paused at any creaking or popping that sounded in the house. About to settle on the couch to pick an activity, the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.
Staring at the doorway to the TV room you held your breath. You didn’t want to see Azriel if he was hurt. You didn’t think you could stomach the sight of his blood.
Footsteps grew louder and louder until Azriel was staring at you. He was unscathed. Safe. And home.
You let out a cry of relief, running into his open arms. Azriel pulls you flush to his body, tucking your head under his chin. You revel in his warm touch. A smile spreads across your lips at having him back home.
Pulling away, you stare up into his tired eyes. “Everything went ok?” You ask softly. Azriel nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “It went perfectly, all thanks to you my love.” He says, exhaustion lacing his voice.
“Come on you,” you squeeze him around the middle. “Let’s get you to bed, baby.” You move to his side, pulling him along. “Sounds perfect, my love.”
Tucking into bed you couldn’t shake this feeling in the pit of your stomach. Watching Az sleep peacefully you snuggle into his side, holding on to him. Just in case.
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fuctacles · 4 months ago
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@stevesbipanic you can be greedy in this house, don't worry 💚 here's a 500 of CCLS as well
<<😺😺😺 || 😺😺😺😺😺>>
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There's no reason for someone living alone to change that for someone younger than them, a music and fantasy nerd with nothing to offer. 
Unless she's into casual...
He vows to himself to never think about it again. To not even consider his nice neighbor in such light. She's gorgeous and nice but he's not in her age range.
His uncle, of course, makes him break this vow as soon as the door slams shut behind him. He goes back to his coffee, putting Steph's empty mug in the sink, while Wayne sips on his sugary black nightmare, observing him.
"Are you interested in Stephanie?"
Eddie gulps down the mouthful of coffee before it can come back out. His throat constricts painfully and he coughs. 
"Straight to the point, huh?" He glares at his uncle, who shrugs his shoulders innocently. Eddie huffs. "I mean, she's pretty, I have eyes. But I'm too young for her anyway."
"It's maybe ten years difference." Wayne waves his hand. "It's not that much."
"Well..."
Wayne rolls his eyes.
"You're both adults, don't give me that shit."
"Maybe don't set me up with all the single hot ladies in the building?" Eddie asks dryly, raising his eyebrows.
"Oh, you want all the numbers? I can make that happen."
Eddie groans, throwing his head back. Wayne smiles wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 
"I'm going to my room," he grumbles, standing up. He refills his mug before leaving the kitchen. "Don't break your other leg in the meantime," he adds on his way out. 
"It's not broken!" Wayne protests, but Eddie ignores him. He has a steampunk pirate novel to dive into and forget about mundane shit. Like Stephanie's big brown eyes and beauty marks on her cheek.
The cats are way worse to deal with without their owner. He can't find a single one of them until he crinkles the food satchels and suddenly he's nearly trampled over by the starved creatures.
"Jesus, it's like you haven't eaten in a week," he mutters, pushing Garfield away for the fifth time so he can actually put the food in his bowl. "Give me a fucking second man, stop it."
It's an uneven fight of shielding the bowls from them and he's surprisingly exhausted when he finally stops to watch them munch on their food. He sighs, wandering away from the little cat nook in the corner between the kitchen and the living room, and settles on the couch. He bounces lightly on the cushions. It's either new or on the more expensive side because it's soft and bouncy. A perfect place to take an afternoon nap. Wayne's couch is old and gives him neck cramps whenever he falls asleep on it. He wonders if it would be overstepping if he just laid there and turned the TV on. He'd still technically be supervising the cats.
If it was someone he didn't care about, he wouldn't hesitate, but he wants to be on Stephanie's good side.
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