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r6eduss · 4 months ago

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Sweetness.

•Summary: Daryl and reader haven’t had time for each other lately, because of this the reader begins to have doubts and insecurities but Daryl is quick to ease them. (Fem reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Soft Dom!Daryl, Smut. Major character death spoilers.

•Word Count: 3.1k.

•Setting: The Commonwealth.

•A/N: Guys this is my first fic, I was bored and decided why not make fanfiction soo.. 😭 also inspired by @/corvidcrossbow ‘s I like it long fic 🫶🏼

You had been overly busy, overwhelmed with the labor that the Commonwealth had brought upon you. Having to deal with the changes of when the world just fell was difficult enough, finally adjusting to the wickedness and horrors of this world just to have to adjust to how the world used to be all over again? It’s been a hassle on you and Daryl’s backs.

Before the world had fallen, you were still in college, studying and planning to pursue to become a doctor. When you arrived at the Commonwealth, you had been beyond confused what your occupation before the apocalypse had anything to do with why you should’ve been accepted into this place, soon finding out that you would receive a position of employment that would be just like what you used to be before everything went down.

Not only have you been beyond exhausted with your position, lately Nabila has needed extra assistance with her and the children, and who are you to decline? You’ve always been a shoulder that your family can lean on.

Today was finally one of those days that you had off, and of course you had spent the majority of your day babysitting the children. You didn’t hate spending time with them, in fact, you enjoyed it. But you were beyond exhausted and craved some time alone with your unofficial husband, Daryl.

It was around around 9:45 pm at night, and you at last entered your shared apartment. The silence was loud, feeling ringing in your ears from it. Judith and RJ had been at Carol’s house for the day, and Daryl had been out being a soldier for our community, so you were accompanied with quietness and some time for yourself. It was honestly quite comforting, considering how overwhelmed you have felt lately.

You had sat down on your couch, pinching the space between your eyes that rested at the top of your nose and closing your eyes. “God..” you let out a sigh, feeling drained and spent. You gave yourself a couple seconds of emptiness then proceeded to get up and head for your shared bedroom with Daryl.

You placed your bag around one of the clothing hangers in your closet, and made your way to your dresser. You picked out a pair of panties, and a nightgown. With your clothes in hand, you headed towards the bathroom. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you gave yourself a moment to reflect on all the events that took place before finally arriving at the Commonwealth. All the loses.. Carl, Glenn, Abraham, Sasha, Jesus, Tara and the list still goes on! You can't help but miss them and wish they were here to see the community that has been built here.

You catch yourself lost in your train of thought, and then work on stripping yourself of your clothes. You move to turn on the water, giving it a moment to get warm, then getting into the shower.

After your shower, you quickly slipped into your clean nightgown and panties. You took your used and dirty clothes and stuffed them into a basket, where you and Daryl’s laundry needed to be done. Standing next to your’s and Daryl’s queen sized bed, you quickly got comfortable under the sheets. A sigh left your lips, thinking of how much your mind and soul craved Daryl. Lately, you guys have had no time for yourselves.

You and Daryl have known each other since the quarry in Atlanta. At first, you thought he hated you, but sooner or later you realized that he isn’t one for communication. He showed his acts of love through his actions, always making sure you were safe.

Since the quarry, you had always stuck by his side. Sticking up for him when Rick, Glenn, T-dog and the others decided to leave his brother Merle on a rooftop alone. Daryl had refused your company at first, but with time, he warmed up to you and tolerated your presence. And eventually, he found himself falling for you, but of course you were the one to make the first move on him.

When you guys had arrived at the prison, that is when you made your move. It took a lot of self sabotaging on Daryl’s part before you guys had become official. And even then, Daryl isn’t particularly fond of label’s.

It had taken a lot of time for Daryl to start opening up to you even after you guys had established your love for each other. It was also awhile of staying at Alexandria for you guys to start getting intimate. Eventually with each other’s time together, you learned all about his trauma’s, the backstory of his scars and his childhood.

You were utterly in love with Daryl Dixon, and he was in love with you, he just had trouble saying those things out loud.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, your tummy immediately felt as if it was filled with butterflies while blood rushes to your face, knowing that it was Daryl finally coming home.

You lift your head up as Daryl enters your shared bedroom, he looks tired, exhausted.. His hair is laced with sweat while he’s in the commonwealth’s standardized white-color armor. You’ve always thought he looked quite handsome coming back from a run.

“Hey..” you begin to sit up, now facing your lover.

“Hey.” he gruffed out. Your heart began to ache as your thoughts were laced with worry. Daryl has been so worn out lately, and has barely had any time to see you. What if he was starting to lose the attraction he had for you? What if he was starting to realize he’s interested in someone else? That possibility could become a reality considering you found yourselves in a community of 50 thousand other people.

“So, how was the run today?” You try your hardest to ease the silence, the quietness that had comforted you earlier was no longer comforting. Your nerves began to eat you from the inside out that you began to fidget with your thumbs, that’s something you’d always do when you were nervous, everybody knew.

Daryl knew.

“It was ‘ight.” He quickly took notice of how you began to fidget.

“Wha’ is wrong with ya?” He looked right into your eyes, his tone infected with slight concern. He was waiting for your response as he began to take off the annoying armor that he was required to wear.

Your heart race began to speed up, worried that he would view you as insecure and pathetic, you decided to avoid telling him what you were truly worried about. “Nothing! Just.. had an exhausting week.” You hoped he’d take your answer and roll with it, you were deathly afraid of Daryl seeing you less than you are.

After Daryl finished taking off the armor, he decided to accept the answer you gave him for now. He was tired, and was in no mood to go back and forth.

“Daryl, you should probably take a shower.” you just wanted him to relax for once, even with Ezekiel being the leader of this place, he never once let his guard down and you just wanted him to finally rest.

“Hm. Ya wan’ to get in wit’ me?” Daryl is never one to initiate things, but one thing he always loved was being able to share a shower with you. It felt romantic. Intimate.

“I already showered. We can cuddle when you get out?” You didn’t think anything of your response, well that was until…

He let out what seemed like an annoyed grunt. He took his clothes and headed to the bathroom. You’ve never been more anxious. Did what you say bother him? Did you piss him off? You released an irritated grunt from your lips as you hear the shower head turn on. You decide to lay back down, feeling your brain fall into a spiral of unpleasant anxious thoughts.

It’s been almost 20 minutes, and you’ve been in a complete swirl of negativity. Your chest felt heavy, feeling your heart completely sunken. Were you having an anxiety attack? You eventually hear the shower head stop and you could’ve sworn you were on the verge of passing out, since when were you so nervous around Daryl? You’ve always been super comfortable around him, feeling safe. Maybe it’s because of all this time trying to survive and to keep our loved one’s alive.

Hearing the sounds of him getting dressed, you can’t help but feel more uneasy. You were never fond of people being angry at you, and especially Daryl of all people. Sooner or later, the bathroom door opens. You look up and see Daryl wearing a regular dark gray T-shirt with gray sweatpants, he never was one to sleep without a shirt, considering his scars.

He walks over to the basket of clothes that needs to be washed, and puts the clothes that he was wearing under the uncomfortable set of white armor in the basket.

He looks in your direction, catching you once again fidgeting with your thumbs.

You refuse to look at him, feeling strong tension between you and him. Your breath hitches as you feel the bed dip, noticing that he was getting right into bed, next to you. He starts to get comfortable, getting under the sheets and closer to you.

The both of you lay completely flat on your backs, That’s when you feel him put his arm around your shoulder and pull you closer to him, head laying on his chest.

“I know somethin’ is up.” He takes your hand, making it rest on his chest. “Talk t’me.”

All the warmth went immediately to your face. It felt as if you stopped breathing for a moment, you didn’t wanna be difficult, that’s when you decided to just tell him about your worries, he has a right to know after all.

“Daryl, I'm scared.”

“Scared of wha’?”

Taking a deep breath, you continue. “I’m scared that one day you’ll realize that maybe i’m not enough for you.” You pause for a moment, then resume. “And, are you annoyed with me?”

His eyes widened a bit, it’s not what he was expecting. Not in the slightest. He lifts his head a little.

“Nah, m’not annoyed with ya.” He proceeds to lay on his side, facing towards you. “An’ why are ya thinkin’ ya wouldn't be enough?” From the bottom of his heart, he doesn’t have a single clue where this is coming from. Daryl is the most loyal person on this shitty earth, and he can swear up and down that he loves you to death.

“I don’t know.. We’ve been so busy lately getting used to the Commonwealth, and there are so many people here! So many options.. Maybe eventually you’ll realize that i’m not what you truly want.” Shamefully, the truth escapes your lips. You’ve never felt more insecure. Usually, you felt secure within your relationship, but the stress has truly gotten to your head.

He moves closer to your face, and puts his hand on your cheek, cupping the side of your face. His thumb gently rubbing against it.

“Don’t want nobody here but you.”

Your heart skips a beat, Daryl isn’t one for being upfront, and he isn’t the greatest at comforting people, but he loves you, and he’s very sure of that.

He locks eyes with you, admiring you and your beauty. For a second you could’ve sworn he had stolen a glance at your lips? Or maybe you were seeing things.

Your mind feels more at ease, and you break out a slight giggle “I’m sorry. I know I sound stupid, I just miss you.”

He uses his other hand to move your hair strand out your face, and cup the other side of your face, moving closer. “Ya’ don’t sound stupid.” He’s quick to lean in, closing the gap between the both of you, finally stealing a kiss from you.

His lips are kind of chapped, but oddly enough, still soft. The kiss was soft and tender, only having pure love behind it. Your eyes flutter open, just to see him staring at you. “I love you.”

Your lips curve up into a passive and cute smile, he never says it first.

“I love you too.”

You lean in for another kiss, the both of you have been so touch starved these past couple days. The kiss was gentle and sweet, but more ambitious. Even the slightest things about Daryl can get you going, and you sure as hell are in need of some sex. Especially after these couple weeks.

You lean more into the kiss, and that’s when you hear a grunt come from him. You swear you could turn into a puddle right then and there.

Eventually, you pull away, obviously needing to breathe. “Daryl, i’ve missed you.”

The corner of his lips turn into a slight smirk, and he begins to gently place his hand on the back of your head, playing with your hair.

“I know.”

That’s when he kisses you again, only this time using his hand on the back of your head to lean you in closer. This kiss was more needy.. More intimate.

You accidentally whine into the kiss, pressing your thighs together as you can already feel your panties start to get wet. He moves his hand from the back of your head to your waist, caressing and feeling your curves. He slowly makes his way to your thighs, where he takes the opportunity to pull you on top of him, and have you sitting on his lap while he lays on his back. You could feel his hard on.

“D-daryl.. I need you.” you say in a whine, you felt his cock twitch under you, he has his hands rested on your hips and has the most perfect view of you. He could stay like this forever.

“Yeah?” He said it in such a sweet and gentle tone it could drive you insane. One thing Daryl loved to do was tease you, he knew how flustered you could get. “Mhm.” You begin to tuck at his pants, looking into his eyes for approval.

With a slow nod, he consents. “G’on.” He wanted this as badly as you did, and tonight, he was going to make sure you were taken care of.

You were quick to go ahead and start to take off his pants and boxers while also taking off your nightgown, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock stretch out your tight cunt. He watched as you stripped him, missing every inch of you and your body.

Witnessing as his cock sprung out, your clit throbbed and you could feel your nipples harden. Daryl gently runs his hand through your hair, making sure that you are enjoying every inch of this. You prop yourself up, sliding your panties to the side and gripping his shaft while slowly lowering yourself onto it. You could’ve came right then and there. He stretched you out, and was always able to make you feel full and complete.

He lets out a low grunt, not only watching you lower yourself onto him, but also feeling the tight and warm sensation of you around him. You needed a moment to adjust to his size, you both haven’t made love since before the war with the whisperers, you just haven’t had the time.

After a moment, you began to move, slowly rocking your hips and lifting yourself up onto him. “Fuck..” You couldn’t help but let out a moan, you were full, and you were overly sensitive. Daryl squinted his eyes shut for a moment, he too had forgotten the bliss and feeling of him inside of your cunt.

With time, you sped up, bouncing on his cock. You threw back your head, rolling your eyes and having your mouth agape, It was almost embarrassing how slutty you looked. His hands roughly gripped your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, while also thrusting up into you. You were close but you felt yourself starting to grow tired.

You buried your head into Daryl’s neck, whining. He took the chance to flip you over onto your back, and take control. He pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping and the headboard rutting into the wall filling the room. You heard Daryl growl and you let out a loud and filthy moan, feeling embarrassed you were quick to slap your hand over your mouth, until Daryl grabs your wrist, and puts it above your head.

“Wanna hear ya.” He whispered, his voice gravelly. He loved the sounds you’d make, especially knowing that you were making those noises because of him. He continued to fuck you into your mattress, having one hand pinning down yours, and the other on your hip. With your other free hand, you found it roaming up into his hair. His hand gripping your hip quickly moved under your thigh, lifting your leg above his shoulder and adjusting his position. He thrusted into you, hitting your sweet spot and going at a relentless pace. You whimpered and proceeded to tug on his locks, pulling it.

And that’s when he let out a whine.

You could feel your core tightening, knowing that you were close. “D-daryl.. Please don't stop.” Waves of pleasure were rushing through you, and his scent filling your nostrils.

“Ain’t gunna.” He then leaned into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites up and then down to your breasts. You could hear his accent begin to grow thicker, That's how you knew he was approaching his release as well.

You were head empty, feeling your walls tightening around his cock and clit brushing against him. You were both laced with sweat while also letting out gasps and whimpers. He knew your body so well, and knew all the right things just to tip you over the edge. Daryl was also incredibly gentle with you, this wasn’t just fucking this was love-making.

“Daryl.. Im gonna–” He interrupted you with a sloppy kiss, when he pulled away there was a string of saliva still connecting the both of you. He used his tongue to lick up from your chest to your neck, the feeling of his wet mouth against your skin, it sent shivers down your spine, and that’s when you couldn’t anymore. You gasped as you reached your peak, the knot in your tummy finally unraveling. He rode out your high, pounding into you a couple more times before he pulled out and came onto your belly, letting out a low groan and making a mess out of you.

He collapsed right beside you, the two of you were both a panting mess.

With both of you still slowly recovering, he moves to look towards you and uses his thumb and index finger to raise your chin. “Ya feelin’ better sunshine?” His little nickname for you forever gave you butterflies.

“Mhm! I think im due for another shower though...” You attempt to move, feeling Daryl’s warm serum drip down from your tummy to your legs.

“I’ll join ya.” He says, as he helps you up and directs you both to your bathroom.

Divider credits: anitalenia 🦋

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #norman reedus #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon smut #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon x reader smut #Daryl Dixon x reader fluff #smut #Norman reedus smut #Norman reedus x reader #Daryl is totally a soft dom #Soft dom Daryl Dixon #I love him

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nectar-cellar · 5 months ago

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Downtown Roles Mod Tutorial - TS3 - Mature Gameplay Ideas

NSFW 18+ mature content / a long read

TLDR: this is a compilation/recommendation list of mods, a tutorial on how to set up NPCs, and how to tie it all together to add some mature gameplay to your save. 😈

Misukisu/Virtual Artisan had a “Downtown Roles” mod that sadly does not work anymore for the latest versions of TS3. Her mod basically allowed players to add role sims to community lots so your sims could have more NPCs to interact with, making the lots feel more alive in a mature "downtown" sort of way.

I was inspired by her mod and I want to share how you can recreate and expand her mod’s functions with Nraas Register and Arsil’s Custom Generic Role mod. Some players might already know how these mods work, but it was a new discovery for me. I didn’t know how useful role sims could be! It got the gears in my dirty mind turning.

The main purpose of this mod list/tutorial: to add role sims to community lots for your main sims to interact with, while they’re out on the town. These will be sims outside of your household. Their main “job” is to hang out at the lot. You can let the game generate new sims to fill these roles, or assign existing sims in the town to fill the roles.

Examples of role sims you can create:

A regular patron at a dive bar for your sim to befriend or make enemies with.

A sexy single sim at a beach, gym, pool, bar or club for your sim to mingle and hook up with.

An escort at a brothel for your sim to woohoo with (Passion mod).

A client for your sim to sell drugs/weapons to (MonocoDoll Vile Ventures mod and Arms Dealing mod) - I have not tested this but in theory it should work.

You can add multiple role sims on each lot. You could have a number of partygoers on a club lot/a number of escorts on a brothel lot/a number of mobsters or criminals on a warehouse lot who will always be there when your sim visits.

Why role sims?

Townies are unpredictable - you never know which lot they’ll show up on, and how long they’ll stay. Role sims will consistently be there as the supporting characters in your main sim’s story.

Having consistent NPCs at certain locations around town can help with story-driven gameplay scenarios.

You can move a household of your own sims into town and assign them to fill various roles. See pretty NPCs around town!

If you let the game generate new sims for the roles, then it saves you the hassle of setting up new households yourself. You can always edit them later in CAS.

Limitations:

According to Arsil, it seems like sims who are already employed (such as most townies) will be removed from their jobs if they are assigned to be role sims. So I would avoid using any employed townies for this unless you are ok with that. Use unemployed residents instead.

I believe the role sim cannot leave the lot during the designated work hours. Your sim cannot form a group with them and go to another venue. However, you can invite the sim over or hang out afterwards from the relationship panel.

Mods Needed:

Nraas Master Controller + Integration Module

Nraas Register

Arsil‘s Custom Generic Role mod (both the floor marker and the desk)

Passion (if you want your sim to be able to have sex with the role sims on the lot or have the role sims dance on the stripper pole)

MonocoDoll’s Vile Ventures mod (if you want to create NPC clients for your sim to sell to)

MonocoDoll’s Arms Dealing mod (if you want to create NPC clients for your sim to sell to)

How to Set Up:

Step 1: Install the mods listed above. Then, open the save file you want to add some downtown sleaze to.

Step 2: Find a community lot you want to add role sims to. This could be a bar, nightclub, brothel/motel/strip club, a run-down warehouse or block of buildings, casino, etc. I have downloaded many lots from Flora2 at ModtheSims and @simsmidgen here on Tumblr that fit the gritty urban vibe.

Step 3: Enter Build/Buy mode. You can do this from Live mode.

Press Ctrl + Shift + C, enter this cheat: testingcheatsenabled true

Press the Shift key and click on the ground of the community lot.

Click on “Build on this lot”.

You can also enter Edit Town mode to renovate the community lot.

Step 4: Place Arsil’s Custom Generic Role floor marker or desk on the lot. Place one for each role sim you want to create. They are located in Build Mode -> Community Objects -> Misc. If the desk looks out of place, use the floor marker instead.

Step 5: In Live mode, click on the object -> Settings to set:

The name of the role (clubgoer/stripper/escort/mobster/etc.)

The “work” hours the sim will be on the lot for

The days off

The motives to freeze or not (I recommend freezing all the motives to avoid interactions being interrupted/sims complaining due to low motives)

If the sim you want to assign to the role already lives in town, click on the object -> Nraas -> Register -> Select -> Choose criteria -> select the sim from the list. I would avoid choosing any employed townies as they may lose their job when switching to this role. Choose unemployed residents to avoid conflicts.

Remove assigned roles: click on the object to remove the sim from the role.

Step 6: In Live mode, click on City Hall -> Nraas -> Register

Allow immigration: choose whether you want new sims to be moved into town to take the roles (enable this if you want the game to generate new sims for the roles)

Allow immigration = False: if you set this option to false, then a new option called "Find Empty Roles" should appear. You can then assign any sim to the role object you placed, from City Hall.

Allow resident assignment: choose whether you want existing unemployed townies to be randomly assigned to fill the roles (I recommend to disable this. I had Buster Clavell show up to work at my strip club. NO!)

Pay per hour: I'm not sure how to adjust the pay for each custom role but you can just leave it at the default or change it globally

Remove roles: click on the object to remove the sim from the role, or click on City Hall -> Nraas -> Register -> Global Roles -> Remove by sim

Step 7: In Live mode, give the game some time to generate the role sims. Visit the community lot and have a look at your new role sims. The role sims should autonomously interact with other sims and objects on the lot. Using Nraas Master Controller, you can take the sim into CAS to give them a makeover, edit their traits, or replace them with a sim from your sim bin.

Step 8: Make your sim interact with the shiny new role sims and play out the storylines you always wished were possible. Public hookups, functioning brothels, selling drugs and guns - this is what The Sims 3 was made for, baby!!!

Related Mods:

Arsil’s Exotic Dancer Stage - if you have a club community lot, you can use this mod to hire dancers. You can use role sims to add other NPCs to the club such as guests, shady business sims, or non-dancer sex workers.

Nraas Relativity - this handy mod can slow down the speed of time so your sim can spend more time doing their "activities"

Nraas Woohooer - if you don’t want the explicit sex animations from Passion, you could use this mod instead to provide more woohoo options.

Passion - for brothels/strip clubs, this mod will add sex animations and the ability to have role sims dance on the stripper pole.

MonocoDoll’s Vile Ventures mod and Arms Dealing mod - you can use role sims to create more clients for your sim to sell drugs and weapons to, like different individuals/gangs/mobs. You could have different clients hanging out at different spots in the city.

LazyDuchess Lot Population - this mod populates community lots with townies, and they can interact with the role sims you’ve created.

Service Sims Out on the Town - this pushes service sims to visit community lots, to add even more variety to your crowds.

Conclusion

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. Please let me know if you try out this style of gameplay, and if you have ideas for more role sims and community lots to make. This tutorial was NSFW-oriented but you could easily adapt it to create NPCs for SFW community lots.

#s3cc #ts3cc #the sims 3 #ts3

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kcrossvine-art · 6 months ago

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hi friends! This recipe/review was delayed at first from- well it was a different recipe originally, technically bat tempura should be the next item but id like my first tasting experience of bat to be made by someone else who knows what bat should taste like. The recipe after bat tempura is living armor and id intended to use geoduck to mimic the scale. Living armor is interesting with dunmeshi as they used the suit of armor in 3 different ways; grilling, steaming, and souping.

Affording geoduck, a PNW delicacy, is a stretch for one dish, let alone 3. With my write-ups id like to offer a chance that readers will actually be able to make what we talk about. So I opted to use regular clams instead. I feel myself above the fire so we're still sticking with one dish, the dish that doesnt require a grill or a helmet-esque plating arrangement.

Today in our delicious dungeon, we're going to be making Living Armor Soup!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Living Armor Soup?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe ingredients used in the show didnt give much to work on, quoting "medicinal herb" and "special sauce".

1 lbs Mussels

Shallots

Garlic

Bay leaf

Curry powder

Chicken stock

Cream

Eggs

Its important to use cream as your dairy, the higher fat content gives you leeway with boiling and acidity to avoid curdling. Any cream should do. Still bring it to temp gently but rest assured in the moo moos protection.

AND, “what does Living Armor Soup taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

A smoother, buttery-er cream of chicken soup

The mussel meat itself feels like a simplified version of chicken hearts- structurally and in taste

Its not bad. You could hard sell it to a picky eater

Green onions would bring crispier top-notes much needed

And maybe building a roux base for the soup would fill out the low end?

I dont know what drinks would pair well with this. My heart wants to say red wine but im not a grape fan and cant get more specific than that

I think the hassle of procuring seafood is why when i ask my friends their opinions, the responses are middling to negative. You cant build a palate for it if you dont eat it enough. If i'd had fish stock i wouldve used that rather than chicken, while it doesnt turn the soup disgusting or make itself known much at all, awareness of its presence draws unfavorable comparisons to food I'd rather be eating. And eating for cheaper too (...besides the chicken hearts).

. Some mussels out of a bunch will inevitably be DOA, you wont be eating exactly a pound of them. This and waterweight are the nature of seafood. . Lay easy on the salt until the end before serving . If you have enough mussel stock left after straining, you might not need additional stock

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From deciding to cook to sitting and eating, the process took about an hour and a half. Not bad but not great, considering this dinner left me feeling full for all of about an hour after.

And the mussels were mostly usable/alive too! I discarded maybe 3 of the whole pound! Sure seafood can be light eating- youd think the dairy and vegetables would hulk it up more. The science of what makes food filling isnt entirely understood, as is most nutrition and gastro science, so i dont know what to blame. Stunning that 1lbs of mussels was not enough to keep a 110lbs person full for an hour.

If i were to make this again, i would serve it with fresh dinner rolls (or another carb). Breads and seafood are joined at the hip in my mind. You want more delicate tastes from your fish? I got just the thing. An entire family of food with varying flavors and textures that just so happen to all work pretty well with the third thing people eat often with seafood; butter.

I give this recipe a solid 4/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) It needs workshopping beyond being recognizable to the show.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 lbs mussels, cleaned and de-bearded

Butter

3 shallots, finely diced

3 garlic cloves, crushed

2 bay leaf

Curry powder to taste

120g chicken stock

100g heavy cream

2 eggs

Method:

Wash your mussels. Remove any beards and barnacles. Discard any mussels with open shells.

Finely dice your shallots and garlic.

In a saucepan, brown your shallots and garlic in some butter over medium-low heat. Once softened add your stock, bay leaves, and curry powder to the saucepan. Increase the heat to medium.

Add your cleaned mussles to the saucepan, the liquid should cover them but if not add more stock. Bring to a boil, and then cover and reduce to a simmer.

Keep simmering until most/all of the mussel shells open. Discard any that still havent after about 6 minutes of simmering. Set aside the remaining mussels.

Pass the liquid in your saucepan through a strainer and return the liquid into the saucepan.

In a seperate bowl, combine the eggs and cream together. Carefully stir the egg/cream mixture into the saucepan until incorporated.

Remove the meat from the mussels, either discard or save some shells for garnishing.

Place the mussel meat on the bottom of serving bowls and pour the hot broth overtop, add your garnish (if any) and enjoy!

#dungeon meshi #food recipes #dunmeshi #delicious in dungeon #digital art

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alsofoundinpeas · 7 days ago

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A Gift of Belonging

Summary: Y/N often avoids family holidays due to her strained relationship with her family, who favors her brother. When Spencer Reid invites her to spend Christmas in New York with him and his mother, she discovers a new sense of warmth and belonging, making it the best holiday she’s ever had.

Requested fic!! 🥳: I was wondering if I could ask for a Spence and Y/N in which Christmas is approaching and Y/N usually spends it alone because she has a complicated relationship with her family that always favors her brother.

Maybe he has plans to go spend it with his mom and because they are in early times in their relationship he didn’t think to invite her, but once he finds out she’s alone, he takes her to meet his mom and they all have a really good time!

I was thinking something angsty, fluffy, and maybe smutty in the end? I don’t know, you’re the mastermind behind these beautiful creations, so whatever makes you feel inspired haha

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Very brief mention of alcohol. Strained relationship with family (repetitive I know). Oral (m!receiving), unprotected PinV sex (birth control is discussed beforehand but said conversation isn't actually in it), creampie (I wince every single time I type that). Fluffy holiday smut!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: Reupload because I'm a bingus head and accidentally deleted when editing FORGIVE ME PLS!! I loved writing this request!! Huge thank you to @dalamjisung for the request. I hope you like it :') The song mentioned in the fic is December by Ariana Grande btw, but it's only mentioned because reader listens to it, it isn't mandatory for the fic. I have a few more requests lined up after this one, so as for right now my requests are closed until all of them get posted. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all!!! :) <3

Y/N sighed as she stared down at the text from her mom, re-reading it a few times before tossing her phone to the end of her bed with a frustrated groan.

Mom: Hey sweetie! Are you planning to come home for Christmas this weekend? If not, I completely understand. Honestly, I’m just happy your brother will at least be here. I think he’s bringing his new girlfriend, too, so that’s exciting! He’s always so good about making time for family. But again, no pressure if you’re too busy. I know you have a lot going on!

Her excuses were starting to wear thin, seeing as she had played the flu card for last year’s Christmas party and faked a work emergency to skip Thanksgiving. But the thought of attending her family’s Christmas only to spend the night listening to her brother's achievements, followed by the inevitable barrage of condescending questions about her life, was unbearable. Call her a Grinch or a Scrooge, but the holidays had become her least favorite time of year for this very reason.

Unfortunately, it didn’t even matter if it was a holiday or not. It never changed. Her family had always favored her brother, even when they were kids. She had a never-ending list of chores and rules, while he breezed through life with no curfew and no accountability. Any mistake he made seemed to fall on her, and heaven forbid she stayed out five minutes later than she was supposed to with her friends.

Despite their constant claims that there were 'no favorites,' it was painfully obvious who the real favorite was.

Y/N lay staring at the ceiling, weighing the pros and cons of skipping Christmas this year. On one hand, it would be nice to see her grandmother—the one person who had actually kept her promise of no favorites. But she could always visit her grandmother separately and avoid the hassle of sneaking away just to have a real conversation. On the other hand, her family was already used to being disappointed in her. What was one more excuse? She could always make it up next year.

After what felt like an agonizing eternity of indecision (though it was really only five minutes), she finally decided to skip Christmas again this year and stay home. Her family mostly gave money as gifts now that they were all adults, so she wouldn't be missing much—just a meal (takeout had never let her down) and some forced small talk with extended family (who never really seemed interested in her life anyway).

Y/N: Hey, mom! I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to miss this year too. There’s a bug going around at work and I’m worried I caught it :(

Her mom’s answer was immediate, and the guilt lifted from her shoulders as she rolled her eyes at the response.

Mom: Poor thing! You just have the worst luck when it comes to holidays huh? Your brother must have taken all the good immune system genes or something LOL!! That’s okay, dad and I will mail your gift and I’ll send you lots of pics. Hope you feel better soon!

After firing off a quick 'Thanks, love you!' Y/N rose from the bed, let out a sigh, and wandered to the kitchen for a bottle of wine.

She’d tried to convince herself that her parents' indifference no longer hurt, but what had dulled into a constant ache over the years flared into a sharp sting during the holidays. No one wanted to be alone at Christmas, but she knew she had to prioritize her peace of mind—and that meant avoiding an entire day spent deflecting passive-aggressive jabs while her brother soaked up all the attention.

The one person who could make her feel better was across the country, tied up with a case. She wasn’t upset with him—far from it. Y/N admired the work he did and the way he dedicated himself to saving people without ever getting the recognition he deserved. Still, it had been over a week since she’d last seen Spencer, and all she wanted was to curl up in his arms and hear him tell her that everything would be okay.

As if the universe had picked up on her tension, a knock at the door startled her, causing her to jump with a racing heart. She froze, eyes darting to the door, considering whether she should quietly move toward the knife block in case a dangerous stranger stood outside. It was barely 8:30, and she hadn’t been expecting anyone.

After a second round of knocks, relief washed over her as a familiar voice called "Y/N? Sweetheart?" She rushed to the door, unlocking it as quickly as she could and flinging it open to find an exhausted-looking Spencer standing on the other side.

“Spence!” Y/N cooed excitedly, wrapping her arms around him tightly before pulling him inside. “When did you get back? I thought you guys wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night?”

Not that she was complaining at all. She loved any time she could spend with Spencer. They’d only been dating for a little over two months, but she’d already fallen hopelessly in love with the sweet genius that she met when he accidentally stumbled into her while in line at their favorite coffee shop (she later found out it was no accident and that Morgan intentionally shoved him into her because Spencer was too afraid to make the first move).

“Technically we weren’t supposed to be, but we ended up getting a confession so it took way less time than we anticipated to finish the case. And with Christmas coming up this weekend, Gideon figured the sooner we got home the better,” Spencer explained with a small, tired grin as he slipped off his shoes and sat his satchel down. “I hope you don’t mind that I showed up, I just really missed you. I tried to call beforehand, but I thought maybe your phone was dead or something...” His eyes caught sight of the wine bottle on the island and paused, arching a brow before glancing back down at her. “Rough night?”

Y/N blew out an exasperated huff of air, nodding as they made their way over to her couch. She cuddled into his side immediately, relishing in the feeling of finally being able to do so. Spencer had been hesitant when they first started dating with physical touch, but once he pushed past the initial discomfort, he couldn’t get enough of her affection.

“Yeahhh. I had to tell my mom that I’m not making it home for Christmas again this year and it just… stressed me out a bit.”

Spencer’s face scrunched in confusion, looking down at her worriedly. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart. Are you not feeling good? Or what’s stopping you from going?”

Right. They hadn’t had the whole “I love my family from a distance because they act like brother is Saint Michael himself” talk yet. Y/N nibbled at her lower lip, fidgeting with her hands before sighing.

“I… um, it’s complicated. I just prefer not to see my family around the holidays because they’ve always had this weird favoritism for my brother and as I got older I just decided it wasn’t worth sacrificing my peace for.”

Spencer frowned, nodding in understanding before his face lit up with realization.

“Well, if you’d like, you could join me and my mom for Christmas? If you don’t want to be alone, that is. Not that I’m trying to pressure you into meeting her! I just planned to check her out of the sanitarium this weekend and bring her to New York City since she’s been doing better on her medication. I’m sure she’d love to meet you, and I, of course, love any time I get to spend with you—“ Spencer began, his words tumbling out nervously as his face flushed and his voice pitched higher.

Y/N’s heart skipped at the invitation, her face lighting up into a wide grin as she gently cupped his face, halting his nervous rambling. He met her gaze, and she smiled softly. "Spencer, I’d love to join you and your mom for Christmas—only if you’re really sure you’re okay with it."

Spencer had first mentioned his mother's illness on their third date, explaining himself after abruptly excusing himself to take a call from her nurse. It was also the night of their first kiss—he had started panicking, flustered and trying to explain his sudden exit, and Y/N thought he might cry. So, she kissed him to calm his nerves. Once he’d settled down, she reassured him that it was completely fine, that she understood how important his mother was to him, and that she’d love to learn more when he was ready to share.

That night, Spencer realized, without a doubt, that he was falling in love with her.

"It’s settled then," Spencer said with a grin, leaning forward to kiss her quickly. "I’m so excited to spend Christmas with my two favorite people. I was actually thinking we could get tickets to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center—"

Y/N listened intently, her heart swelling as she gazed at him with stars in her eyes, enchanted by his excitement as he shared the plans he’d made for the weekend. Although a little nervous, she couldn’t wait to share Christmas with him and his mom. They continued to plan the weekend, finalizing details between sleepy kisses and small yawns until they finally caved to their exhaustion and went to sleep.

The weekend arrived faster than she expected, and nervous excitement washed over Y/N as she waited for Spencer to pick her up from her apartment. She was packed and ready, excited to meet his mom and see New York City sparkling with Christmas decorations. For the first time in years, she felt something other than dread for the holiday, and she couldn’t be more grateful for her sweet boyfriend because of it.

Spencer had picked up his mom the day before, carefully explaining the plan to her during the drive home and making sure she felt well enough to go ahead with it. Diana was overjoyed at the idea of Y/N joining them for Christmas, assuring him she was feeling fine and could hardly wait to meet her.

For the first time in ages, Spencer felt like he had his mom back, her treatment progressing far better than he'd hoped. All it did was make him even more excited for the weekend ahead, his anxiety easing with each hour spent in the car on the way back to his apartment. It was comforting to open up to her about Y/N and to share what had been happening in his life beyond the letters he wasn’t sure she even remembered receiving.

The weekend turned out even better than Spencer had hoped. Diana and Y/N hit it off so well that Spencer found himself mostly on the sidelines of their conversations, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. It filled him with happiness to see his mom and the woman he was now certain was the love of his life getting along so effortlessly.

They had packed in every Christmas activity they could think of: admiring the lights, sipping hot cocoa, watching The Nutcracker... anything that felt festive was crossed off the list. By the end of the weekend, Diana was almost pleading with Spencer to make Y/N her daughter-in-law on the drive back to the sanitarium. Spencer could only laugh nervously, promising to do his best to make it happen.

Once Y/N got home, she knew she had to find a way to thank Spencer—not only for giving her the best Christmas of her life but also for being the most amazing boyfriend she could ever have hoped for. He was going to come back to her place tomorrow so they could exchange their gifts for each other, so whatever she did, she had to do it then before he inevitably got called in for another case. The real question was: how could she possibly show him just how grateful she was?

With a sigh, Y/N turned on her playlist and settled onto the couch, trying to brainstorm ideas. It felt like the harder she thought, the less her brain worked. After agonizing over ideas for nearly fifteen minutes, Y/N was at her wit's end, ready to settle for a card and a lengthy essay to express her gratitude, when the lyrics of the song playing suddenly grabbed her attention.

Merry Christmas, here I am, boy

I'm the present and you know it, here I am, boy

She sat up suddenly, a victorious grin spreading across her face as the perfect idea popped into her head. She and Spencer had yet to make it past second base, not for lack of desire, but because the opportunity never seemed to align—each time they got close, his phone would ring or something would interrupt, stopping them in their tracks. Tomorrow would be the perfect opportunity to finally take that next step and for her to show her appreciation for the sweet genius.

There was a perfect dark red satin lingerie set at a nearby boutique that would bring her vision to life, but it closed in just thirty minutes. Y/N threw on some clothes, making sure she looked presentable, then grabbed her keys and purse and rushed out of the apartment.

The cashier shot her a glare as she approached the counter, and Y/N internally groaned. She already felt like an asshole for being there so late, but she did still have fourteen minutes to spare before they actually closed. The guilt vanished when she met the cashier’s icy stare, and she grabbed her purchase with a mumbled thanks before she hurried out of the store. Sue her for wanting to look sexy for her boyfriend on Christmas.

The next day seemed to drag on, with Y/N anticipating the surprise she had planned for Spencer.

She cleaned the apartment until it was spotless, setting the perfect mood with scattered scented candles and dimming the lights. The room was softly illuminated by her Christmas tree—one she had convinced Spencer to help decorate at the start of the month—and a few strands of lights she had strung up. All of the presents were ready and waiting to be unwrapped.

Now all she was waiting on was Spencer himself.

Three firm knocks echoed at the door, marking his arrival—right on the dot at 5:00. As punctual as ever. Y/N opened the door with a thrilled smile, eagerly tugging him inside.

"Woah, hey! Hello to you too, sweetheart," Spencer chuckles loudly, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day, so excuse my enthusiasm,” Y/N said with a soft laugh. “Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry. We can do presents first and then eat, or eat and then unwrap them—whatever you prefer. I honestly could do either, it doesn't matter to me and of course, you're the guest so—”

Spencer grinned as she nervously rambled, her hands gesturing wildly as she listed off options. It was oddly comforting to him that she got just as nervous around him as he did around her. Even though she had quickly become the person he felt most at ease with, a part of him still felt those nerves—after all, she was the most incredible woman he’d ever met, and the thought of messing things up and losing her terrified him.

“How about we eat first and then open presents? Is that okay with you?” Spencer suggested, offering a small smile.

The tension in Y/N's body eased as she returned the smile, nodding in agreement. "That sounds perfect."

Dinner passed with casual conversation, both Y/N and Spencer chatting between bites about everything from the new book she was reading to the latest research paper Spencer had discovered and found fascinating. They ate more quickly than usual, both eager to exchange the gifts they had carefully picked out for each other. It wasn’t long before they were done, clearing the table and loading the dishes into the sink before heading into the living room.

The two of them sat together in front of the tree, feeling as giddy as a couple of kids as they finally began to exchange presents.

Spencer slowly unwrapped his first gift, his eyes softening as he revealed the delicate, intricately designed watch she'd chosen for him—a gift that held both practical value and deep sentimental meaning. He glanced up at her, a shy but sincere smile spreading across his face, and she felt the warmth in his gaze. “This is… perfect, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. I’ll wear it every day, I promise."

“Always, Spence. I’m so glad you love it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes filled with affection as she watched him. She recalled how devastated he’d been when his previous watch had broken a few weeks ago. Though hers wasn’t as extravagant as his old one, it meant far more to him—because it came from her.

Y/N cherished every gift he gave her: a whimsical coffee mug to add to her collection, a journal with a playful inscription from him that made her laugh—promising she'd have a place to rant about her family when he wasn’t around to listen, a couple of books from her wishlist, and, lastly, her absolute favorite: a delicate locket on a thin chain, holding the first picture they’d ever taken together.

Once all the gifts were unwrapped, Y/N smiled and stood up, holding her hand out to Spencer. He looked at her in confusion but took her hand without hesitation, allowing her to lead him to the couch.

“Keep your eyes closed and stay right here. Your final gift is in my room,” Y/N instructed, a mischievous smile curling at her lips. As soon as his eyes were shut, she darted down the hallway to her room, stifling a soft giggle at the surprise she was about to unveil.

When she came back, she positioned herself between his legs, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, “Alright, Spence… you can open your eyes now.”

Spencer opened his eyes, nearly choking as he took in the sight in front of him. Y/N was standing there in a beautiful lingerie set, the bra designed so that it was a bow that he could untie to reveal her... Just like a present.

“Holly shit,” Spencer breathed, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the rare curse slipping from his lips. Spencer hardly ever swore, so hearing it from him spoke volumes about how much he liked what he saw.

"So I take it you like it?" Y/N arched a brow, resting her arms on his shoulders.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Spencer stammered, looking up with wide eyes as Y/N climbed into his lap.

Y/N settled into his lap with a coy grin, reveling in the feeling of his hands coming up to grip her waist. She leaned in, brushing her nose lightly against his before softly grazing her lips across his.

"I wanted to show you my appreciation..." Y/N whispered, placing a brief but tender kiss on his lips before trailing kisses along his jawline. "...for giving me the best Christmas ever."

Spencer blinked hazily, her words taking a second to process in his mind as the sensation of her lips now sucking a mark into his skin became the center of his focus. His grip on her waist tightened imperceptibly as his fingers flexed against her warm skin. He swallowed hard before finally mustering up an answer.

"Y-you don't have to thank me, baby. All I ever want to do is make you the happiest you've ever been—"

Spencer's words came out as a squeak as she rocked her hips once against the erection now straining in his slacks. His head fell back onto the couch with a soft thump, a quiet whimper slipping from his lips at the friction. The scent of her perfume enveloped him, a fragrant haze that clouded his thoughts and left him feeling lightheaded, as if he were drowning in its sweetness.

The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, the sight of his dilated pupils stirring more in her than she was willing to admit. Y/N smirked, repeating the motion to hear the soft noise fall from his lips once more. She lifted a finger to his lips, shushing him before she moved to kneel between his legs.

"I want to, Spence. Please?"

Spencer nodded so vigorously it almost looked painful, his wide eyes locked on hers in stunned disbelief. He couldn't believe this was real... that he not only had her to begin with but that she was on her knees begging to make him feel good. The breath rushed from his body as her fingers trailed up his thighs to the button of his slacks, popping it open while she kept her hungry gaze on his.

His body trembled in anticipation as Y/N dragged the fabric down his legs, tugging them off once they reached his feet and casting them off to the side. He whined as she leaned forward to mouth over his aching cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, his fingers twitching from where they rested beside himself. His breath hitched in his throat as she dragged her nails down the inside of his thighs, a smug grin on her face as she watched him dig his nails into his palms.

Y/N decided she'd teased him enough, placing a kiss on his hipbone before swiftly removing his boxers. Spencer's hips lifted from the couch, jerking toward her mouth instinctively as she wasted no time in leaning forward to lick a thick stripe up the side of him before taking his swollen head between her lips.

"Oh—" Spencer gasped, his eyes struggling to stay open as he watched her begin to swallow his length. "Oh my God, Y/N—"

Y/N smirked around her mouthful, taking him as far into her throat as she could before wrapping a hand around what couldn't fit. She began to bob her head slowly, easing him into the sensation. The feeling of him—hot and hard and filling her mouth so perfectly—had her squeezing her thighs together as she began to move more vigorously.

Spencer writhed beneath her as her mouth and hand began to work in tandem, his eyes fluttering shut despite his efforts to watch her every move so he could burn the sight into his memory for later use. His hips bucked up when she took him into the back of her throat, a guttural groan falling from his open mouth at the gag that emitted from her from the motion. His eyes shot open as he began spewing out apologies, but his words died in his throat as she pulled off of him to shake her head vehemently.

"Do it again," Y/N croaked, taking him back into her mouth and reaching up to guide his hands to her head.

Spencer whimpered pitifully, exhaling sharply before tentatively repeating the motion. His heart nearly fell out of his ass when Y/N moaned around him, encouraging him to keep going. His hips thrust rapidly into her mouth, his eyes squeezed shut now as moan after moan spilled from his lips.

"I-I'm close— sweetheart, please," Spencer groaned, lights flashing behind his eyes as she all but sucked the soul from his body. "Can I— Can I fuck you? Please? Wanna make you feel good, too."

Y/N moaned loudly around him at that, pulling off of him with a slick 'pop' before nodding vigorously. She was drenched, the sounds Spencer made having turned her on more than most men had in the past with their entire bodies. She hurriedly climbed into his lap, not even bothering to take her panties off and instead pulling the fabric to the side as she lined him up at her entrance.

They'd previously agreed that since they were both clean and she was on birth control they'd skip using a condom. They just never had the chance to actually get on with it... until now, anyway.

The sight of her swollen lips and watery eyes had Spencer captivated as his hands automatically found their home on her thighs, rubbing gently as she eased herself down onto him. If someone had told him six months ago that he'd ever be lucky enough to experience this—having the most beautiful woman he'd ever met as his, riding his cock like she was made for it—he would have laughed in their face. But now, all he could do was sit back and watch her in awe as she took every last inch of him into her core, speechless as he marveled at the sight. His brows pinched together as her walls enveloped him, his mouth gaping open as she bottomed out with a loud moan.

Y/N's head tipped back as a moan wrenched its way from her throat, her hips moving in small circles as she adjusted to the stretch of him inside of her pussy. She had never felt so desperate for someone before, but she wasn't surprised. It was Spencer—the man she admired more than anyone. The man who treated her like she was everything, simply for being herself. The man who reminded her every day that she was worth more than she’d ever believed.

Neither one of them was going to last long, a realization they both came to as she lifted her hips and dropped them down into his lap as she began to ride his cock. But that was okay. They had all night to make each other feel good.

“How does that feel, sweet boy? Hm?” Y/N panted, falling forward to rest her face in the crook of his neck as she rocked against him with frantic, needy movements.

All Spencer could do was whine loudly as he clung to her, planting his feet on the ground and moving his hands to cradle her back as he began to rut up into her. He was borderline delirious with pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him driving him mad with the need to make her fall apart in his arms. The movement served to drive him repeatedly into her G-spot, the both of them crying out and latching to each other as Y/N trembled above him.

"So good," Spencer finally grunted, moving his hands up to hastily unwrap the bow restricting his access to her breasts. His lips latched onto her right nipple, sucking and nibbling as his hand came up to pinch her neglected bud. "You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart." He mumbled against her skin, laving over the pert bud and groaning.

Y/N cried out, her hands tangling into his hair as she rode him harder. It was almost feral the way they moved together, needing each other in a way words couldn't describe. The couch creaked beneath their movements, but she couldn't care less. She only cared about making the man underneath her feel the best he ever had.

Her walls began to clench around him as she whimpered into his shoulder, signaling her impending climax. Spencer slid a hand down from her breast to instead rub at her clit, lifting his head to capture her lips in a passionate kiss. It only took a few circles of his skilled fingers before Y/N was chanting his name into his mouth like a prayer, her eyes squeezed shut as she came hard around him. Spencer's orgasm was almost simultaneous with hers, the sensation of her walls squeezing his cock triggering his climax almost violently as he pumped into her with soft sobs.

Their chests heaved as they slumped against each other, caressing each other with gentle touches as they caught their breath. Once Y/N could sit up, she lifted off of his softening cock with trembling legs, a giggle spilling from her lips as he whined in discontent. She placed a lingering kiss on his lips, effectively shushing him before she stood from the couch to go get a rag.

When she came back, Spencer reached for her with needy hands, wanting to feel her against him once more. They tended to each other with soft murmurs of praise and gentle kisses, their love unspoken but evident in every touch and gesture. Once they were cleaned (and Spencer had all but shoved her toward the bathroom so she could pee to avoid getting a UTI), they stumbled into her bedroom and into her bed.

It was in Spencer's arms, as he drifted off to sleep, that Y/N finally understood just how special the holidays could be—made all the more meaningful by the sweet genius she was fortunate enough to call hers.

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fluff #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x self insert #Spencer Reid x you #criminal minds smut

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porkcutletbowl44 · 25 days ago

Text

The Man You Need

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: 🔞NSFW. MDNI. unprotected p in v sex(wrap it in foil before you check her oil), dirty talk, creampie, PWP, Insomnia!reader, brief mention of misogyny, semi-public sex, shower sex, reader is also kinda bratty

(Ik y'all are only here for the porn that's why the plot dies quick lmao)

A big thank you to the 200 followers and counting 🫶🏻🩷

• · ────── ·🔞🖤🔞· ────── · •

"Y'look knackered, 'aven't been sleepin' enough?"

Simon's voice forces you to stop staring at the stale scones under the heat lamp, yanking you out of that day dream of falling face first into the breakfast line to get real sleep.

"Just the usual insomnia," you reminded. "What plans do you have today?" You asked, gatherthering the last of your breakfast.

His long strides effortlessly keeping up with your shorter ones. He towers over you as you both approach the table where you both sat normally.

"Just the usual, trainin' new recruits." He answers in the same manner as you, he sits down opposite you. He stretches his long legs out under the table, his calves brushing yours.

His eyes fixed on you like little bugs on your skin, taking in every detail of your face.

"'ow long has it been since y'last slept through a night?" He asks gruffly.

"Saturday." You answered.

His jaw clenches momentarily behind the thin fabric of his balaclava, and his shoulders stiffen.

"Y'mean to tell me its been three days an' you're still functioning?" He retorts, skepticism written on his face. He knows you, and he knows how bad your insomnia gets.

"Yeah. Doesn't help when we have to wake up early."

Simon lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand over his face.

"You can't survive on 2 or 3 hours o' sleep a day. Y'know you're pushin' it too far. You're going to collapse soon if y'don't get your sleep under control."

He's always stern when he speaks, but with you it's like he's scolding you like a child who doesn't know any better.

You do know better; you've busted your ass to get where you are. You've had to deal with everything in the book to fight to where you are now in the military, and he knows that, he's been there the majority of the time and yet he nags you everyday about something.

"Well I'm trying, Si. Melatonin doesn't work and it gives me bad headaches." You mumbled irritably.

"Doesn't work, eh? An' I can see those bags under your eyes. Headaches too..." He rubs his chin as he looks at you, his eyes calculating. "What 'ave you tried so far, love? I've told you to keep me updated."

"The sleepy tea worked for a little bit, and then it didn't. I tried running before bed, no screen time, benadryl..."

Simon grunts and leans back in his chair, listening to you list all the things you've already tried and don't work, his frustration only seems to grow with this situation— or you?

"Bloody hell. You've tried everythin', 'aven't you? Nothin' seems to work, it's as if your body just won't shut down."

Sometimes this leads to the same thing over and over again, the 'you have to sleep' or, 'why do you do this to yourself?'. You just smile and nod, because yes, you can 100% control this.

"Well, sometimes another thing works, but it's just too much of a hassle." You shrugged, sipping some vitamin water.

Simon's brows furrow as he hears your muttered words. He leans forward, his gaze intense.

"What 'other things?'"

You sometimes keep things from him, and he won't let you get away with it this time. Or, there's the other times you are blunt, disgustingly blunt. You live with a bunch of men, who do not have a filter, that alone has killed yours out of existence.

You blink, fidgeting in place. "Ahem. Me time?"

He's not dense, he knows exactly what you mean and he's not one to back down from anything that usually makes normal people squeamish or "grossed out".

"An" 'ow is it 'too much o' a hassle exactly?" He asks, a slight raise in an eyebrow.

"My hand cramps." You rolled your eyes, it was obvious, who doesn't have that problem sometimes?

He crosses his arms over his broad chest with a humored look, your honesty can be either amusing or completely looked over.

"Your hand cramps, you say? Thas a hell o' a reason."

He chuckles softly, his eyes raking over you, taking in the sight before him. His gaze is heated. Your face can feel it, it's warm, it's like he's putting your face close to a bonfire with that look. For months you two do this... This thing that borders flirty and suggestive but at the same time it doesn't quite feel like either.

"Yeah. Thinking about going down to the store."

His eyes snap up, crossed arms going lose from his chest. He's not stupid; he knows what "going down to the store" means.

"You're talkin' about goin' to get one o' those things." His voice is low, but not quite harsh. He's almost hesitant to say it out loud, but he says it with so much disdain.

You deadpan. "A vibrator, Simon. A vibrator."

The tops of his cheeks flush red beneath his balaclava at your blunt response. You giggle a little, not expecting such a reaction from Lieutenant Ghost. What's the big deal? Did guys not talk about fleshlights? Brand recommendations?

He clears his throat before speaking, a little husky and quiet. No way, are you embarrassing him with girl stuff?

"Y-yeah. One o' those." He stutters, his usual confidence wavering. "Yes, thank you, love. I realize that. I just..." He trailed off, blinking a few times.

"Y'can't be serious. You're goin' to use a toy instead o' asking for help?"

It's like he can't believe you just said that out loud, in a busy mess hall no less. This is what it took? Talking about sex toys to make him awkward?

"Uhm...yeah? I less you have a boyfriend in your pocket waiting for me." you retort.

And yikes, he didn't seem to like that. His eyes squint, probably crinkle in his nose. He paused, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes studying your face closely.

"You don't seriously think y'need a toy instead o' just asking me, do you?"

Why does he sound hurt??

Your stomach does a backflip off your intestines and into a hot tub of oil. He did not just say that. You must be asleep, yes, you must be dreaming.

You giggled, "Good one."

Simon gives a low grumble, his jaw flexing and grinding. This apparently wasn't a laughing matter to him. Is he serious? Your tongue works over your teeth, trying your absolute hardest to be so cool, nonchalant, you don't care you don't care—

"'M not jokin', love. You don't honestly think that a toy would be better than the real thing, do you?"

Of course it's not fucking better. But what choices did you have? Sleep with one of your teammates and then get a dishonorable discharge? Make things awkward in your team?

"Oh... Considering it's illegal to have relationships, yes. A vibrator won't leave me, cheat on me, break my heart... It's perfect." You shrugged— it was for the best anyways.

He knew the rules just as much as you did. And he followed them religiously. What the hell is going on? Why would he just suggest that out of the blue?

"Y'think you'd be better off with a piece o' silicone than takin' the chance on me?"

You pinch your thigh under the table. Nope. You're still here in mess hall, in front of your now cold breakfast, and Simon is still trying to convince you to fuck him.

"Y'wouldn't be satisfied with that thing. You'd get bored, love..." He sounds so sure, and jealous when he speaks of the horrible, terrible, vibrator.

"How would you know?" You quired quickly.

Just to double check. Maybe the sleep deprivation was catching up.

"I know 'cause I know you. You'd get tired o' that thing eventually, you'd want somethin' real."

He paused for a moment, his eyes lidding, darkening, consuming.

"You'd want someone to touch you, love. Not some piece o' plastic an' silicone."

"Yeah, like I'd ever get that," you barked out a laugh out of sheer nerves.

He didn't like that anymore than your last dismissive reply, you may just be convinced about now. So, cue to you squeezing your thighs together in your seat. Acting completely normal. Because everything about this is so normal; your coworker just telling you to come to him for a good fuck to be able to sleep.

"What do y'mean by that? 'ow can you say that with a straight face? Y'don't think anyone would want to touch you? Let y'know 'ow loved you are?" He grumbled, his hands clenching on top of the table.

"Y'think you're so undesirable that nobody would want you? Bloody hell..." He shakes his head.

"Simon, take a look at me." You licked your lips to prevent a shout of frustration, yikes, you do need sleep.

Simon's eyes fly over your form, from head to toe. He took his time studying you, his eyes lingering over the curves of your body, the way your hair fell over your face. There isn't a damn thing wrong with the way you look.

"'M lookin' at ya, love. An' what I see is perfection. So tell me again... what's your damn point?"

Oh, good God. It's real. But this is better than you imagined; you want to make him work for it. All because it's hotter to get a man to work for something, get all riled up.

"What do you see? A cutesy little girly girl? A nice little housewife for a big strong man?" You asked sarcastically.

"I see a woman who's strong, capable, an' bloody beautiful." He glares, offended you'd even think about saying that, "You're not some dainty damsel in distress, you're a force to be reckoned with..."

"My point exactly. Men don't want a chick that's more man than them." You rolled your eyes at just mentioning the delicacy of fragile masculinity these days.

Simon grunted and rolled his eyes, his irritation building into something you might not want to poke at.

"Thas where you're wrong, love." He points his spoon at you. "Not all men are as narrow-minded as y'think. I know damn well I want a woman like you. Strong, feisty, sexy."

"My point, Simon! I don't want some fucking pussy, I want someone whose more man than me." You huff.

You're not entirely implying this trait about him... You just wanna see him work for it.

"You're not goin' to find that in a bloody toy, love. You're lookin' in the wrong place if y'think some plastic will make y'feel better. Y'want a man? You already 'ave a man."

He was right there, willing to give you what you needed. But how far will he go?

"Yeah but... I want something real, too." You tried to explain.

This flirting back and forth was something you enjoyed; but what would it mean in the long run?

"Exactly." He huffed a bit exasperated. "Y'want somethin' real. Somethin' I can give you."

He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to you, his eyes deep and intense.

"Y'don't need a toy, love. You 'ave me. 'M real, an' I want you. Don't settle for some piece o' plastic when y'know damn well what you really want."

Okay then, schizophrenic, game on.

"I want someone stronger than me, someone to give me a reason to act like a woman," You snorted.

You were infuriating at times.

"An' y'think I can't give ya that? Y'think I can't make y'feel like a woman? Like a fuckin' queen?" That retort comes out low, accusing. "I can definitely make y'feel like a woman. Y'don't need someone stronger than you, love. Y'just need me."

Nail on the head with that one; yet how far can you take it? You lean between your elbows, squeezing your tits together to make you look as enticing as possible.

"Do I?" You purr.

Simon freezes in time, his plastic spoon almost falling away from his thick fingers. His hand does scramble for it to his credit but he almost dumps his bowl in the process. You hear him clear his throat roughly, Adams apple bobbing at the hem of his mask before it disappears. You bite your lip with a challenging gaze, would he take it?

"Yes," He replied firmly to cover up his hesitation, "Y'need me, love. Y'just don't know it yet. I can make y'feel things no toy ever could. Think y'need a man t'make you feel like a woman? I can do that, an' I will happily."

You smirk, "You're gonna have to try harder than that,"

"Oh, I will, love. You're just askin' for a challenge, aren't you?"

"You afraid to take it?" You shot back slyly.

He was anything but afraid with that look. He was up for the challenge, and you know he's gonna prove it.

"Baby, 'm not afraid o' anythin' when it comes to you," he replied, his voice low and husky. "As long as you can take what I can give you."

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes searing into yours. There was danger in his gaze, it only made it all the more delicious.

"Y'think you can 'andle me, love? Y'think you're ready for what I can do t'you?"

"Only if you can prove it." You grin.

Ghost let out a low growl, his eyes darkening at your challenging tone. He thrived on it, it only fueling his drive to prove himself to you.

"Oh, I'll prove it, love. I'll prove it again an' again until y'can't even think straight."

"No, no, prove you're more man than me." You corrected easily.

"Y'want to know why 'm more o' a man than you? I can make y'feel things you 'aven't even imagined before. I'll 'ave you beggin' f'me, addicted t'me."

"I'll be waiting, then." You set the challenge in stone. This was it.

The bear has been poked enough. He was on a mission now.

"You'll be beggin' f'me before the night's over." He boasts smoothly, a promise and a warning all in one.

"If I get a good night's sleep I'll consider keeping you,"

You were maddening, and he both loved and hated the way you pushed his buttons. It was all in good heart; for the most part.

"You're already keepin' me, love. Y'just don't know it yet."

You bite your lip, taking a quick survey of the area before replying. This was getting too good to be true.

"Don't disappoint then, we have..." You glance at your watch, humming, "six hours until lights out."

"Thas more than enough time." He grunts, all smug and cocky behind his mask.

Step one, getting recruit work out of the way. It's boring as fuck, mostly watching the Lieutenant scare the absolute piss out of the fresh meat.

Simon was barking orders left and right, ruthless to the soldiers in training. Almost as ruthless as the sun beating down on them.

You abandoned your spot in the shade, clip board in hand. You balance two water bottles on the wooden board as you approach to offer a beverage.

"Thanks," he grumbles, his eyes darting around to ensure no one witnessed the small gesture just like you.

He took the offered water, downing half the bottle in one go and adjusting his mask back in place. You drag your pin down the clip board to check off what's already done.

"Forty laps?"

"Forty laps."

Simon confirmed with a gruff nod, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before turning back to the recruits. Despite the challenging heat, he refused to end the training drills early no matter how much you teased him about buying him a little extra on your toy run— Viagra.

You thought it was hilarious, him? Not so much.

"An' they better pick up the pace!" He barked, the deep baritone easily reaching the pirvates' ears.

You circle that box, "And the sixty pull ups?" You breathed a bored sigh.

Simon grunted in annoyance.

"Done."

He informed in a low grumble, his jaw working under the balaclava. It was an excessive amount, but many of the recruits wouldn't even make it halfway through. But he didn't care, he was in a mood. A horny one. When was the last time this guy got laid?

"Wasn't accepting any half-assed attempts, either."

"The rope climbing?" You tap your pen at the box.

Simon glances down at the list, eyeing the scribbles and doodles next to the ticked boxes.

"Done." He replies simply.

You could faintly hear the sound of the recruits groaning and grumbling in pain and exhaustion, you almost felt bad. It was minor flashbacks to your recruitment days, yet Simon didn't seem to have that same sympathy judging by the satisfaction in his eyes.

"Aaannnd... Combat." You hum, one last task left for training.

This was where things get interesting.

"Its last. Need to let 'em rest a bit first. Suppose they earned it."

"Generous," you comment blandly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep checkin' off the list. I wanna get these fuckin' recruits dismissed soon. 'M sick o' the heat."

The day dragged on painfully slowly. The heat was relentless until the rain would show up any minute, and he was more irritable than usual. Even the recruits seemed to notice his foul mood, giving him a wide berth whenever he was in their vicinity. You were starting to grow bored of his usual job of scaring the hell out of the recruits, (not so bored when sweat rolls down the thickness of his biceps and the bounce of his tits when he jogs up to the trainees to yell at them) and overall wondering when and how the fuck you're supposed to get laid at this point.

Finally, the training was over. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the compound. The recruits limped and hobbled their way to their assigned lodgings, exhausted and sore.

Simon, on the other hand, seemed like he had even more energy than usual. Despite the long, grueling day, he was somehow wired and restless. You should ask what energy drink he uses after you wrap this up. (Hint: it's the male drive to get some pussy).

As the recruits dispersed, one in particular caught your eye. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious of the bunch, strutting around like he owned the place. You and Simon had seen it countless times before, it got old fast.

"Arrogant little prick," Simon muttered irritably.

You tongue your cheek, "What? Threatened by him?"

It's a pointless taunt— Simon? Threatened? Gosh, it's so fun to get men worked up. Simon's eyes narrow at your comment, a grunt bursting out from him.

"Threatened? Me? Fuckin' hell, no." He grumbles offendedly. "I could take 'im apart within a minute. Can't stand the ones caught up in their own 'ead,"

You hum in agreement. You know for a fact you'd pay to see that one day, and Soap would be right behind you.

"You're lucky you're the most tolerable person 'ere," he adds goodnaturedly.

You backhand his shoulder lightly, "Oh, look, your best friend is coming over!"

And speak of the devil, the recruit struts over with that piece of shit arrogant smirk. Simon rolls his eyes in annoyance as he turns to face the strutting recruit.

"Great. Just what I need," The sarcasm is laid on thicker than the suspicious gravy served this morning at breakfast.

The recruit saunters over, his obnoxious confidence on full display. Simon clenches his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Sir... Do we have more extensive training available?" He asks slowly, his own ego taking a hold of his tongue.

Simon's eye twitches at the recruit's pompous tone. Extensive training, more like a request for special treatment to feed that ego.

"Extensive training?" He echos roughly, "F'you? Why?"

The recruit shrugs boredly, "I think your ways are a bit old fashioned, too easy,"

Easy, old fashioned? This cocky little bastard doesn't know the first thing about hard work. And he's about to serve himself his very own buffet of living hell from Simon. You distract yourself with the grass below your feet, taking everything you have to not laugh.

"Y'think we make things easy on you?" He sneers, taking a step closer to the recruit. "Y'think you're hot stuff, eh? Well, you're in for a rude awakening, rookie."

Your lips purse, frowning deeply to stop the smile.

"What makes y'think you deserve anythin' beyond the standard training regime, hmm? You 'aven't earned a fuckin' thing yet." He glares at the recruit, his eyes dark and intense behind his mask. "Y'get your fuckin' arse to the barracks. Your extensive training for the next month? You'll be cleanin' the bathrooms before lights out."

The recruit's smirk falters at Simon's orders. He's not used to being talked back to, much less being told what to do. But he tries to maintain his cocky attitude, not wanting to back down in front of you, maybe. Ugh, men.

"Bathroom duty? That's... a little degrading, isn't it?"

Simon chuckles darkly, his eyes dancing with amusement. This cocky bastard was really pushing his luck more than you were. You almost feel bad if it weren't so funny.

"Degrading?" he sneers. "Welcome to the military, rookie. It's not a goddamn country club. Y'think you can come 'ere, demand extra training, an' expect special treatment? This ain't a playground. You're 'ere to learn discipline, not stroke your ego."

You stifle a laugh behind your clipboard. This was too good, and all the more hot to see Simon angry.

Simon shoots a sidelong glance at you, even though he's supposed to be acting tough and intimidating, he seems to let himself crack through the lieutenant role around you.

The recruit, on the other hand, doesn't notice your amusement. He just looks sulkily at Simon, clearly not pleased with the prospect of bathroom duty.

Simon grabs the recruit roughly by the collar, the display of power and dominance making you jump in place. Simon's firm grip on the recruit's collar startles the cocky little punk, his eyes wide in surprise.

"See, this is your problem," Simon grits lowly. "Y'think you're untouchable. Y'think you're better than everyone else. But lemme tell you somethin', wanker... you're not."

The recruit stammers, eyes frozen with fear.

"Disobey your superior officer again an' I'll make sure your walls are covered in you."

He gives the recruit a rough shove, releasing his collar. The recruit stumbles back, shocked out of words.

"Consider that your final warning," Simon growls. "Now get your arse to the fuckin' barracks, rookie."

The recruit seems to shrink under Simon's intimidating aura, his cocky demeanor shattered and squashed to dust. He mumbles a half-hearted, "Yes, sir," before hurrying away.

You check your watch, "Well, today has been fun. It's too bad you only have three hours left."

Three hours left, you say? He hadn't even started yet. Because of training, of course.

"Three hours, huh?" He grumbles, eyes setting in determination. "Don't count me out yet, love. I can do a lot in three hours."

"Hurry it up, or in three hours I'll have a brand new shiny vibrator." You grin cheekily.

"You won't be needin' any damn vibrator if I 'ave anythin' to say 'bout it," he hisses. "I don't need any bloody gadgets to 'elp out."

He starts to stalk towards you, his eyes intense and focused. Your thighs squeeze together, pleased with your outcome.

"Three hours is more than enough time f'me to prove myself, love. An' you'll be beggin' before the clock strikes, guarantee ya that."

"Right," you drawl with a roll of your eyes.

He reaches up with a rough hand, grabbing your chin and lifting it so your eyes meet his.

"Y'think I can't prove myself in three hours, huh? That I need some bloody toy to 'elp me out? I promise you, love, you'll be singin' a different tune."

You giggle teasingly, biting your tongue through your smile.

"Tick tock, Simon." You singsong.

You were mocking him, challenging him, all for this purpose.

"You're playin' a dangerous game, love," he growls down at you, "Y'think you can tease an' walk away with that pretty lil smile on your face. But you're gonna find out real quick that I won't back down, even when you're being a cheeky lil minx."

You smirk dreamily, staring up at him with raw want. You kinda want him to do something extravagant, proving himself just because. When was the last time you had fun like this?

"You're pushing your luck, love," he grunts, his voice gruff with barely concealed desire. "If you keep lookin' at me like that, there ain't gonna be enough time to do everythin' I wanna do to you."

You pull from his hand, turning on your heel as you call over your shoulder,

"I'll be waiting, Si,"

You were taunting him, teasing him, with that sultry little comment and casual tone. You feel his eyes on your ass with each sway of your hips, that naked feeling let's you know he's undressing you with his eyes.

You whip out your phone to look at the time, alas, there's just no way what you want can happen. The rules, regulations, and the severe lack in privacy.

Shooting Captain a quick text for permission to leave base for an hour you head into the higher up showers for some much needed washing of the sweat collected on your body.

As you toss your towel on the bend, your phone buzzes.

'Permission granted. I'll let the team know you'll be out.'

Your heart drops to your ass as you frantically text back—

'Wait no that's not necessary!!!!!'

And then, to your horror, you get a ping in the group text.

Shit.

The team knows youre just going out, but Simon knows. Simon knows you're chickening out from the challenge.

"Fuck!" You hiss, frantically looking around the showers as if there were anything that could help you.

There's nothing. Not the gathered pubes in the moldy shower drain nobody uses, not the faded rusting lockers, not the dirty windows that nobody will ever be able to see out of no matter how much scrubbing

You're fucked.

But how fucked, do we wager? Does this mean Simon will get in his feelings and never talk to you again? Will he out you? (No, it wouldn't ever—) What if he gets revenge?... What kind of revenge?

As you stand there, panic setting in, a voice rings out from the entrance of the shower area.

"What 'appened to three hours?"

You squeak as the door slams, the deadbolt echoing through the room.

You are locked in the showers with Simon.

"What's with the sudden cold feet?" Simon grunts as he rounds the corner, closing the distance between you in slow, measured strides.

"I-I can explain—" you stammer, phone dropping on the bench next to your towel.

He stalks towards you, his steps slow and deliberate. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze that makes your heart beat even faster in your chest.

You're trapped, unable to back away, and he looms over you like a caged beast.

"Explain why you're runnin' away from the challenge you issued, love?" he drawls, stopping just a few feet away from you. "This I 'ave to 'ear."

He crosses his arms as he stands there, his eyes never leaving your face. You're in for it now, his expression seems to say.

You chuckle nervously, gesturing between the two of you, "I mean, realistically it can't ever happen—"

"Who says it can't?" He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, rough growl. "I don't care 'bout the damn regulations, love. That's not gonna stop me from 'aving you."

"Y-You are all about the rules, Si. You follow them to a T— You wouldnt—" you swallow thickly. What have you done to yourself this time.

"I usually follow the rules, yes," he concedes tauntingly, "An' right now, those rules are fuck all to me anymore."

Your tongue suddenly feels heavy in your mouth, "W-What about—"

Simon leans a forearm over your head and slouches down, his eyes darkened by lust and determination.

"What 'bout...?" he mocks, "Y'think I give a damn 'bout those old geezers with their rules right now? All I care 'bout is 'aving you, 'ere an' now."

Simon's free hand reaches up, his fingers lightly tracing your jawline. "I'll show you 'm fuckin' man enough to 'ave you."

While you are speechless, he adds for you to better understand. "It's just you an' me in 'ere."

"But—" you squeak.

Simon's hand moves quick to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"No," he growls, "We don't need to follow the rules in 'ere. We don't need anyone's permission. We could be loud, we could be rough. No one would ever know."

No one... Would know.

He leans in, his lips hovering just centimeters from your ear. "Just us in 'ere. You tellin' me you'd rather 'ave some stupid fuckin' toy over a man that can fill you up all night long?" His hand slides down to your throat, holding you tenderly but firmly, "Just say yes, love."

You whimper in delight, his eyes flickering down to your shifting thighs.

"Yeah," he purrs, his hand angling your head up against the wall. "Y'know you want it. Y'want me."

You want him more than sleep. You want him more than some real fucking food.

"Y'know you don't need anythin' else but me t' fuck you stupid."

"Yes," you moan.

Simon's eyes gleam with approval, his grip on your chin tightens slightly.

"That's good fuckin' girl," he growls.

He licks your neck through the mask, chest expanding with a deep inhale that crushes you to the wall.

"Say y'want me," he demands in a gravelly whisper.

What is thinking? Why would you have to think?

"Want you s'bad," you whine.

"Fuckin' right you do," he mutters.

His other hand drifts down, slowly tracing down your body until it lands on your waist, shoving you into the shower stall. For a moment, you thought you were going to get a little groping, made a knead here and there. But no, you're just standing like a dumbass in the empty shower stall.

"Strip." He growls.

Your skin erupts with gooseflesh in the bare shower shall, his gaze unwavering as he waits for his private show. He steps closer, his own clothes still on, thick arms folding over his chest.

"Slowly," he commands, "Show me what's gonna be mine."

You pinch the hem of your cargos, and then switch to your shirt.

What the hell do you even start with?

"Trousers first," Simon instructs roughly.

He stands there, still dressed, but his eyes devouring every inch of you as you slowly pop the button.

You slowly shimmy the waist band over the swell of each hip, pushing down to your ankles. Simon's breaths grow heavier as you flick the material off your feet his eyes transfixed on the movement.

"Thas it. Bra next," he commands, velvety smooth, "Nice n' slow. I want t'see all o' you."

Bra? Bra next? Why not your shirt?

You kick the cargos away, your shirt barely covering over your panties as you unclasp the bra through your shirt and maneuver it out from one of the sleeves to hold it in the tip of your finger.

Simon's eyes zero in on your pebbled nipples and pretty panties, the thin fabric doing little to hide your curves.

"Good girl," he purrs, "Now come 'ere."

You're... You're not even done. He motions with his fingers for you to approach him, his eyes dark with need.

"Do the thing," you manage out.

"The thing?" he grunts in an enticing voice, taking a step forward as you gesture to your mouth and nose.

He reaches up and pulls the mask to his nose, revealing his lips.

"Is this what y'want, love?" he asks, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you breathe as you wet your lips.

Those would taste so good. You just know it.

"Y'want to see m' mouth, huh?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corners of those now revealed lips that show his canines, a chipped tooth, his lower face in general in its scarred glory, "Y'want to see what I can do, love?"

He closes the remaining space between you in a single stride, grabbing you by the back of the neck and yanking you forward.

His free hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with dark hunger that makes your pussy pulse.

His mouth descends on yours, his lips claiming yours in a fiercely possessive kiss. You moan lowly, one of your arms circling his thick waist. He's burning up, hot and sweaty under his clothes that reek of his natural musk.

One of your curious hands ventures down, squeezing at his ass. He breaks the kiss with a surprised grunt, a coy smirk.

"Naughty, that," he huffs, "But I like it. My turn,"

The world before you lunges back, his mouth descending on your neck. He sucks and bites at the sensitive skin, his teeth leaving red marks in their wake.

His hands have a rough exploration, sliding down your skin, pausing just above the waistband of your panties to slide in to the globes of your ass. You stand in your tip toes to lean into him, whimpering at his rough gropes and kneading.

His mouth continues it's path down your neck, his teeth grazing the tops of your covered tits as his hands roughly squeeze and massage your perfect ass.

"Look at you," he growls, "Squirmin' an' I haven't even started."

He pushes your ass up, looking over your shoulder to watch it bounce. His hands slide lower, pulling the elastic of your panties down slightly, "Look at this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're fuckin' soaked through."

And he's right.

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid that sticky mess thats unbearably uncomfortable. He tuts, delivering a slap to your ass.

"Tryin' to get yourself off, love?" he purrs, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties.

You can't tell the difference between the onyx color from his pupils, you can hardly look at his eyes when his mouth is right there and his own tits are in your face. God, you want to nibble on those chapped lips, feel those fat biceps squeeze you as his hips snap on the backs of your thighs—

He backs you up, his hard cock pressing against you through his jeans, "Y'want it?"

"Yes!" You mewl.

"Thas what I like to 'ear, love," he husks, his fingers playing with the crotch of your panties. "Get that shirt off, wanna see those pretty tits finally."

You squirm, pulling your shirt up and off and throwing it somewhere that doesn't matter right now.

"Perfect," he rasps, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, "These are fuckin' nice,"

You arch, eyes rolling at the nice kneading to your sore flesh of being stuck in a bra all day. To your displeasure, freezing water sprays down your body and your uncomfortable groan bounces off the walls until the water warms up.

He's still fully dressed though, his clothes sticking to his muscular frame, accentuating every hard muscle and scar.

"Shower's a bit shitty," he says, his eyes raking your body. "But we don't 'ave to wait for that to get goin'."

Your panties have disappeared into his pocket, you follow the way his fingers shove it in— Your eyes divert to that large bulge behind the zipper.

"I know what y'want," he grunts, his hand moving to the belt and zipper.

Simon pulls down his zipper, the metal teeth parting revealing a black pair of boxers, which does little to hide the already impressive outline of his hard cock nudging up against the waist band.

He pushes his jeans down his thick thighs, his body still clothed in a tight black shirt and underwear drenched in water.

Your saliva glands burn at the sight of his happy trail plunging past the waist band, eyeing that nice size you only got a little feel of on your leg—

"Want a closer look?" he purrs, his hand slowly palming the base of his covered cock, precum bleeding out from the thin fabric on his thigh.

You make a face at him, your face burning with embarrassment

"What's the matter, love? You shy now?" he says with a smirk, his hand continuing to slowly palm and squeeze, "Y'were all full o' attitude today."

His head tilts mockingly, stroking himself for you, enticing you. Pinch yourself again, this might actually be a dream—

"Go on," he rasps, "Feel me."

You follow a trail of water down to his shirt clinging to his body, his drenched happy trail, and then the outline of his cock.

With one hand, you tug the waist band forward, clenching as he sucks in a breath that makes his abs tense.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear, "Go on," he husks, "Take it out, love."

He leans back, watching you intently, waiting for you to do as told. Maybe you do like to be told what to do in this context. With your other, you pull him free with your eager hand.

He moans, he fucking moans.

"Thas it, love," he husks out, his voice a little strangled. "Feel me up."

His hands rest on the wall behind you, caging you in. He hips rock into your hand, each stroke of your fist pulling the foreskin back.

"You're so big," you whimper.

Simon lets out a deep, gravelly groan as you speak. It just might be the hottest sound you've ever heard. Right next to the time he was lifting heavy dumbbells, letting all those grunts and growls loose.

He looks down at you, his gaze burning with lust and need, "You want it, baby?" he asks, his hips grinding against your hand harder, "Want this big dick?"

"Want it so bad, Si," you mumbled against his lips, your tongue darting out to lick his teeth.

his mouth claiming yours in a rough, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately tangles with yours, his teeth biting and tugging at your lower lip.

"I know you do," he grunts, his tongue slipping past your lips to slide against yours before speaking again, "You've been eye-fucking me all afternoon, love."

His hands start to wander along your body, mapping your curves with rough caresses,

"You're gonna get it," he husks.

One of his hands moves down to your hip as he moves lower, his mouth following the curve of your throat, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses and bites.

"Want m'cock in that pretty pussy? Or your mouth?"

Where do you fucking think, smart guy?

"In me, inside me, please," you mewl.

His massive paws squeeze your hips to spin you around, planting your hands against the wall.

"Bend over," he growls, his eyes roaming over your body, "'M gonna give you what y'want."

His hands on your hips start to maneuver your body, making you arch your back and hips out.

He runs a hand up your spine, "So pretty," he murmurs as he takes in the sight of your body bent and on display for him.

He steps up behind you, his body flush against your back, his clothes still fucking on and wet and sticking to your body.

"Gonna fill ya up nice n' good," he sucks on his teeth with a low growl, "Been thinkin' o' me all day 'aven't you?"

His hips rock against your ass slowly, his bare cock rubbing on your supple skin.

His hands massage your ass, kneading and squeezing the flesh as you lean on your forearms, moaning as the blunt head notches to your dripping slit.

"Want m'hands all over you," Simon growls against your flesh, his rough palms skimming over your curves, "Mm, relax, yeah? Nice n' easy— Yeah, thas a good girl,"

His hips do a slow, deliberate grind, rocking into you to make room for him as he moves his lips along the curve of your shoulder.

There's slow shallow thrusts, working you open until he takes a deep stroke down to the base. Fuck, he's thick all over, heavy even inside your walls. If you had the brain power, you'd reach below and hold his balls.

"You're so damn gorgeous," he husks darkly, his breath hot against your skin, "I wanted this since I first saw you."

He's so intense he's burning a hole through you with his gaze, his hands still exploring your body, worshiping every curve, every dip, every inch of you.

His hands slide down to the front of your thighs, coaxing your legs further apart, opening you up for him.

"I knew I wanted you the moment you walked in," he breathes, "I knew you'd feel amazing under my hands."

Your cheek presses into the shower wall with a strangled moan,

"S'deep,"

Simon growls at your moan and pushes into you with more force, his hands squeezing your ass to yank you back, spearing you over and over on his cock.

"Fuckin' knew you'd feel s'tight an' good,"

His hand presses on your lower tummy, mouth hot and panting against your shoulder blade. He grabs the back of your hand, his fingers threading through yours and pressing it against the wall.

"Take it, take—this—cock,"

You choke out a moan, slumping against the wall, "please, so close, so close—"

"You gonna come f'me, huh?" he asks, his voice raw and breathless.

It's a lovely sound on him.

"Yes, please, wanna come, haven't came this fast before—" you beg.

He lets out a ragged, possessive growl at your words, his hips piston roughly against your ass, full balls swinging on your clit over and over.

"Come on, pet," he snarls, deft fingers twirling tight circles around your clit.

You whimper loudly, hands sliding down the slick shower walls, hips straining for him as you come hard with a broken mewl.

"That's it, fuck—"

He breaks off in a gutteral moan, hips stilling as he spills inside you. Simon catches you as your legs buckle out from under you, scooping you up against his chest to lean you back against the wall.

You don't even know what just happened in the span of 5 minutes. He's panting hard, his heart pounding against your back.

"Fuck," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Fuckin' perfect, love,"

You smile lazily back at him, pawing at his shoulders to pull him in a soft languid kiss, his lips claiming yours in soft, sweet caresses. He melts against your touch, the fierce need from earlier receding now that you're sated. He returns your lazy kiss, his hands gently roaming up and down your back.

"Bloody hell," he mutters against your lips, "Fuckin' perfect, woman." He nips at your neck, "'M not done yet."

Looks like he is the cure to your sleeping problem.

#Idk what this is #go easy on me #i deleted this like 4 times and im somewhat happy with this one #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #call of duty #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x you

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purplephantomwolf · 13 days ago

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Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter Two

Synopsis: You are a bakery owner. One day Max Verstappen comes into your bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: Panic attack

Previous Chapter: Chapter One

Masterlist

December 18, 2021

You rush over to the windows, pulling the blinds down. You don’t think Max wants anyone to see him in this state. After making sure no one can see in, you squat down in front of Max. He’s got his head between his knees and breathing erratically. “Hey, can you look at me, please?” You softly ask. Max doesn’t respond. You gently touch his arm, trying to get his attention. His head jerks up, looking startled. “My name is Y/n. Can I take your hand?” You gently ask. He nods, still struggling with his breathing. “Okay, thank you. I’m going to help you do what I do when I have panic attacks. Is that okay?” You ask. He nods again, slowly this time. “Okay, thank you,” you smile softly. You sit down next to Max, taking his hand in yours. “Okay, I need you to attempt to breathe in sync with me. I’m going to place your hand on my chest, so it’ll be easier. Is that okay?” You suggest, making sure he’s okay with everything you’re doing. Max attempts to speak while nodding. He doesn’t manage to get anything out yet. “Hey, hey. Don’t attempt to speak yet. Not until you get your breathing somewhat under control,” you shake your head. You lay his hand on your chest, taking deep breaths. You see him starting to take deep breaths.

Once you notice Max’s breathing has evened out some, you pull out the next thing you do when you have panic attacks. “Okay, next we’re going to do the 54321 grounding technique. I need you to tell me five things you can see,” you state. Max looks around the bakery.

“Uh, tables, you, register, chairs, and the kitchen door,” Max says, slowly looking at everything as he says it. You smile encouragingly.

“Good, good. Now can you name four things you can feel?” You encourage him, nodding.

“Your heartbeat, my coat, the floor, your shirt,” Max lists off, starting to sound more confident.

“Okay, now, what are three things you can hear?” You ask.

“Your music, ticking of the clock, and-” Max tilts his head, seeming to be listening to things, “Someone talking outside.”

“Okay, two things you can smell,” you tell him.

“Easy, baked goods and flowers,” he slightly smiles, looking over at the flowers I have along the walls.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty easy one when you’re in here,” you laugh. “But last thing, one thing you can taste.”

“Hmm, is that chocolate I can taste?” He looks around.

“Yeah, it is. I have quite a few items on the menu that have chocolate in them,” you laugh, looking at the display. Max grins, looking proud of himself. “Are you feeling better now?” You ask, placing his hand on his knee.

“I am, thank you so much,” Max blushes, looking embarrassed.

“Of course, I know how bad panic attacks can get when going through them alone. I didn’t want to make you do that. Now, when I have my panic attacks, I always feel weak afterwards. Food and a drink always helps me. Would you like something to eat and drink? I think I have some croissants and kouign amanns left, and I can make you some tea or water if you’d like?” You ask, standing up. You hold out your hand to Max, not really expecting him to yes.

“If it’s not a hassle to you or anything,” he whispers, taking your hand. You shake your head, helping him up.

“I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise. Come on, I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen, so it;s a bit of a mess still,” you blush, realizing the state of your kitchen. You hear a whine come from the kitchen and your eyes widen. Max looks at you, confused.

“What was that?” Max asks, eyebrows knitted.

“That would be my two puppies. They hang with me in the kitchen while I clean, but if you’re uncomfortable with that, I can take them upstairs while you’re here,” you say. Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your puppies. He violently shakes his head no.

“No, no! It’s okay,” he rushes out.

“Perfect, they’re sweet, but quite protective of me. They aren’t really around guys, except my employee, Louis. They might take a second to warm up to you. Elise will warm up to you quicker than Lacey, though,” you explain. You walk back to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow you. You push open the door, and Elise and Lacey are immediately running around your feet. You laugh and squat down, petting them. “Max, meet Lacey and Elise. Lacey is the six month old Pitbull, Elise is the year old Golden Retriever,” I explain, pointing to each of them.

“Nice to meet you, Elise and Lacey,” he grins, sitting down next to me. Max holds out his hand for the dogs. They slowly walk over to him, sniffing his hand. Lacey takes longer at sniffing his hand than Elise. Elise is currently unsuccessfully trying to climb into Max’s lap.

“I’m so sorry! She thinks she’s still lap dog size,” you rush to pull Elise off of him. Max places an arm around her and lifts her into his lap. He smiles up at you, shaking his head, gently swatting your hands away. “Alright, alright. What would you like to eat and drink? I have croissants, pain au chocolat, kauign amann, and macarons, water, and tea,” you list off, looking at all your leftovers on the kitchen counter.

“Just a croissant and water, if it’s not too much of a hassle,” he mumbles, distracted by playing with Lacey. You grin at the sight, walking over the croissants. You quickly plate a couple, before getting a glass of cold water.

“You might want to put the food on the counter and stand to eat. The puppies will attempt to steal your food otherwise,” you laugh, setting the plate and water on a counter. Max lifts Elise off of him and stands up, walking over to the plate. You get back to cleaning the kitchen as he takes his first bite.

“This is delicious,” you hear him say. You peak over your shoulder to see his eyes wide, staring at the croissant.

“Thank you,” you mumble, continuing cleaning to avoid him seeing you blush.

Max clears his throat, and you turn to look at him. “So, I know you’re probably not my biggest fan, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about the panic attack. I normally don’t have them, I just got super overwhelmed with some things,” he says, picking at the croissant.

Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “Why do you think I’m not your biggest fan?” You ask. You immediately start going through your interaction, trying to see when you said or did something that would tell him that. Max looks up at you, before pointing at your shirt. You look down, and your eyes widen. “Merde, of course I’m wearing this when I meet you,” you groan. “I promise you, I am not a Lewis or Mercedes fan; I’ve been a Red Bull fan since they entered F1. My dad got me this when Lewis was absolutely dominating, trying to convince me to switch teams. I only wear it when I clean, hence all the stains you see on it,” you explain, blushing.

Max smiles, “Okay. Good to know I’m not eating in the enemy's kitchen then.” You laugh, shaking my head.

“I won’t tell anyone about the panic attack,” you say, grabbing out some supplies to make the dough for tomorrow's croissants. “Do you want to talk about what caused the panic attack? I know talking helps me a lot, but I get that I’m a stranger, so I understand if you don’t want to talk,” you say, looking at him. Max seems to contemplate this for a minute.

“No, I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. Thank you, though,” he shakes it. You plop the dough into a bowl, putting it into the fridge for tomorrow. You wash my hands, before turning to him.

“Alright, sounds good. Do you need more water?” You ask, noticing his empty water cup.

“No thank you, I think I should get going. Let you get back to your cleaning,” Max says, bending down to pet Lacey. Elise whines, running up to you, wanting attention. You laugh and squat down, petting her.

“Okay, well, you’re always welcome back. We’re open from 6 am to 8 pm. Always got to promote the business,”you grin. Max lets out a loud laugh, straightening up. His shoulders shake with laughter, and you grin proudly.

“Of course, of course. The croissants were delicious. I will be back to try other things. Do you make them all yourself?” He asks, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, I make all the food myself. I have an older couple that I employ that work the front,” you smile.

“That’s amazing. I’ll definitely come back to try other things,” he nods, “My trainer is going to hate me.” You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head.

“Better not be eating too much then,” you grin, grabbing his plate and cup. You clean and dry them, putting them up. You can feel Max’s eyes on you as you do this. You turn to him when you’re done.

“Thank you for the help with calming me down,” he mumbles, turning red and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Of course, it is honestly not a problem. I had someone teach me the 54321 grounding technique and it’s been a life saver,” I shrug.

“I’ll have to remember it for if I’m in this situation again,” Max nods. You nod, heading to the front of the store. You grab your cleaning supplies, getting ready for the tough job of cleaning the front. Max follows after you, Lacey and Elise hot on our heels. You start to wipe down the tables as Max watches. After a couple moments of silence, he sighs. “I should get going now, thank you so much for everything tonight,” he says. He starts to walk towards the front door.

“Of course, any time. Have a good night, Max,” you smile, following him.

“You as well, Y/n,” Max smiles back, before leaving. You make sure to lock the door after him. You look down at Lacey and Elise running around your feet.

“What an interesting night,” you mumble. You quickly finish your cleaning. You feel your fighting to stay open, meaning it’s bedtime. You drag yourself up the stairs.

Once you’re upstairs, you grab a quick bite to eat before starting your nighttime routine. Once done with that, you slide under the covers. Elise and Lacey jump up onto the bed with you, snuggling in for the night. You fall asleep cuddling with them, not believing how your night went.

Next Chapter: Chapter Three

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 story #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x y/n

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crushmeeren · 20 days ago

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no bc thinking about akutagawa, the port mafia dog that everyone thinks is so scary (he is) but who is actually the biggest gentleman. who hates plants bc they’re such a hassle to take care of, but who buys you flowers and puts sugar in the water vase to keep them alive ! 🫧🫧

who also just loves biting you. who is the biggest dick in bed, choking you and watching you cum with slits for eyes. who’ll kiss your throat right after he bruises it.

i forget if this is canon or not, but i saw somewhere that he doesn’t know what the frilly thing around his neck is called 😭 (i think its a cravat?)

Oh my FUCK!! Just like that I’m being sucked in and writing about him… Also I think that’s correct, it’s a cravat. Levi from AOT wore one too.🤤

master list link

You’re right…. Ryuu is such a fucking guard dog — a Doberman, if you will. He’s tightlipped and terrifying when he tails you around town, or anywhere really.

You want a few inches of space while you’re in the bar? At the store? At a birthday party? Too fucking bad. He sneers at everyone who gets too close, challenging each person who dares chat you up in his presence without a single word. You smack him in the chest when he pushes the line, teasing him with a “down Ryuunosuke, be a good boy.” He huffs, unhappy, but backs off for the time being. Until something sets him off again.

Although you have to use an unfair amount of willpower not to show it, Ryuu’s aware, and smug, about the fact that his protective and obsessive behavior tugs on the part of your brain that tells you to shove him into the sheets when you get home.

This isn’t to go without saying that Ryuu’s such a sweetie when it comes to you. Like tooth rotting sort of sweet. It’s not so much displayed through words, but rather it’s spelled out in his actions. As stated above, the man does not have a green thumb. First off, plants require far too much attention. Attention that he’d rather spend on you. Second, even if he has tried to grow plants before, though he swears he hasn’t, they just seem to mock him. They die and if he’s honest, he can’t be bothered with whether they live or not.

But, for you, Ryuu did just enough research on how to keep flowers off of life support. When Ryuu brought you flowers for the first time and he noticed how your eyes brightened, how you buried your nose into soft petals and inhaled a lungful, only to hum in delight and aim the single most affectionate look he’s ever gotten at him, well, he needed the flowers to live for as long as you willed them to.

Ryuunosuke loves to suck bruises along your throat, your collarbone, any unmarked part of your body he can get his hands on. It absolutely ties into his possessiveness. You tell him he’s a “territorial ass,” but you moan his name and tilt your head to the side, spreading your thighs open as you insult him. You ask him for more kisses without really asking him.

He rolls his eyes but one side of his mouth twists into a smile, fitting himself snug between your legs. He always comes back with “Yeah? Well you’re a fucking brat,” pressing the harsh words into your collarbone. “You think I won’t mark what’s mine? That I’d let anyone not know who owns you?”

It’s got to be common knowledge that Ryuu is a jerk in bed. That he likes to tease, likes to edge you, even ruin your orgasm once in a while because his dick gets hard when you cry. A thrill races down his spine when you let him choke you, stomach drawing in tight. The pads of his fingers press deep into the sides of your throat, making your head throb and your cheeks flush hot to the touch when all your blood rushes to them. He almost bites the tip of his tongue off when your pussy squeezes the life out of his cock.

On the other side, something probably scratches the out of reach itch in Ryuunosuke’s brain when you take the reins from him. He’s always got too much on his plate, and being able to give up control satisfies his secret desire to be taken care of. His expression is never more open, never more loving, more tender than when you’re riding him. It’s slow and steady, you appreciate every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your pussy.

You brace your hands on either side of his head and Ryuu stares up at you, his heavy lidded gaze mirroring yours as he pants, these small puffs of air that are just loud enough to make out. You repeat the smooth, steady rise and fall of your hips, lips parting and a breathy “Ryuunosuke,” drips off your tongue. You play it up a bit, knowing how worked up Ryuu gets when you moan his full name.

It works this time as it has all the others.

His breath stutters in his chest, nails digging in and pinching your ass. “Ryuunosuke, please baby, make me cum. Your cock is so good, help me.” Your pussy squeezes tight around him.

Ryuu’s eyes begin to roll, lids fluttering before he lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re playing with me, angel.” He’s too smart, he realized what you were doing from the get go. He secures his arms around your waist and rolls until your back hits the mattress. “Such a helpless little thing for me, aren’t you princess?” He pushes his hips forward and you swear the tip of his cock presses against your cervix.

Ryuunosuke trails his fingers up the underside of your forearms, tickling you, and laces your fingers together, pinning your hands by your head. He dips down to whisper in your ear.

“You don’t have to worry, my angel. I’ll ruin you. You’ll never think of another man or want someone else’s cock ever again.”

You belong to Ryuunosuke, but you knew that already, didn’t you?

#I….got a bit too carried away with this #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa smut #akutagawa headcanons #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

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ailelie · 2 years ago

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I have a deep appreciation for every person who posts lists and articles with the theme "Why you shouldn't get X as a pet" where X is everything from exotics to cats and dogs.

Often these articles, especially the ones for cats and dogs, garner terrible comments from people defending their pets as if the article is an insult or threat. The articles aren't for them though.

They're for me. And people like me.

I would be a terrible pet owner. I dislike extra mess (e.g., food tossed about, shed hair, droppings), hassle (e.g., multiple hours required daily interaction, protecting cords and cables from chewing, daily walks) and additional chores (e.g., litter boxes, vomit clean up, aquarium cleaning).

Occasionally, though, I get this little urge saying Wouldn't it be nice to have something else sentient in your apartment....?

And I'll start browsing adoption websites or small breeder sites or upcoming conventions or shelters or however the pet in question is acquired. I'll read through care instructions, make a budget, and think I could do that...

But then, some tiny part of me, too quiet to be heard over the growing momentum of pet pet pet directs my fingers to hunt for the 'why you shouldn't' articles, because there will be one. There's always inevitably one published on a pet store website, hidden in a forum, shared on reddit, hosted by a veterinarian--someone has compiled all the reasons why the pet is a bad idea.

So I find it. And I read it. And then I toss my budget away. And I close all my related tabs. And I let go of the thought entirely. Crisis averted.

Because, occasional impulse aside, I don't want a pet. I just need a reality check from time to time.

#pets #pet ownership #me

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janeyseymour · 2 months ago

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Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 1

Summary: save me, before i lose myself- your child is in melissa’s class, and you’re almost always late bringing your kiddo to school and picking them up, aggravating the second grade teacher. that is, until she realizes why.

WC: ~2.55k

If there is one thing that Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, hates, it is parents who drop their kids off or pick them up after the allotted time. So, it’s quite safe to say that you are high up on the list of parents that the fiery redheaded teacher hates.

You’re almost always late taking your sweet little girl to school, which in turn makes you late to work. And because you’re late arriving at your job, you’re usually forced to stay a bit later at your desk job while you get reprimanded by your supervisor for your tardiness. If only those around you who hated your knack for poor timing knew why.

Everyday, you wake up next to your asshole of a wife. Everyday, it’s your job to wake up your daughter, because you know that Carrie is too hungover to do anything with your daughter- much less have the patience to handle the somehow simultaneously exhausted and excitable little one that you are blessed to have as a daughter. Everyday, you drag yourself around the house in the morning, attempting to keep up with the infectious giggles and warm hugs when you so desperately want to lay in bed and not move to prevent the aching in your bones. Everyday, your morning routine of silly tunes and cherished little kid laughs morphs into heartwrenching tears and your daughter begging for just one more hug.

Finally, you ask your little sunshine why she has such big emotions about leaving you to head to school- it’s not like she feels this way about Carrie.

“B-because!” Millie blubbers out. “Because what if I don’t get to see you again? I need momma hugs!”

Your brows furrow, and a slight frown appears on your face as the wrinkle lines in your forehead deepen. “What, baby? Why would you not see me again?”

You watch eyes that match your wife’s flit around, ensuring that Carrie is still asleep and not lurking just around the corner. Millie’s voice drops to a whisper. “Because, Momma, I know Mom’s hurting you.”

You freeze, but you try not to show your daughter that her inkling is one hundred percent true. Your mind and body finally jumpstart after an admittedly too long pause. “Honey, what would make you think that? Momma and Mom are just fine.”

Millie shakes her head adamantly and continues to cling. You allow her to before you know you have to pull away. “My love, we have to get going to school.”

“Don’t wanna,” the seven year old murmurs into the crook of your neck. “Don’t want you to not come back.”

Getting her into Abbott is more of a hassle than it usually is, what with your daughter’s mind swirling. It takes longer than usual for you to get her to the classroom, much less for you to get her to sit down. You don’t miss the glares that the redheaded teacher sends your way as you continue to assure Millie that you’ll always make it back to her.

As you finally get your little girl to settle in her seat and you make your way to leave the building to just barely make it to your job on time, you hear a voice. A deep voice that doesn’t sound too thrilled with you.

“Y/N?” Melissa calls after you. “I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if you would.” She tells you in such a tone that leaves no room for argument. Almost like a child being marched to the principal’s office, you look down at your shoes as you wait by the door for her. She ensures that all of her students are doing their morning work before leading you into the hall and closing her door so that it’s open just a crack.

“You know, Millie is an incredibly smart little girl, but if she continues to be late to school, she’s going to fall behind academically. I would hate for that to happen,” the redhead tells you sternly. “If she is tardy one more time, I have to start giving her demerits, which is not something I would like to do.”

“I understand,” you sigh softly, refusing to meet her gaze.

“She should’ve been getting them for weeks now, but I’ve held off,” your daughter’s teacher admits. “If I keep doing that though, I will be in some trouble with administration though.” You nod your head. “I also think that if Millie has such separation anxiety from you, she may benefit from saying goodbye to you at your house and coming to school with your wife.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I- I’m afraid I can’t make that one work,” you mumble.

“And why would that be?” Green eyes dare you to answer.

You know you can’t tell your child’s teacher the truth. You can’t. And if you do, or give even a small, subtle hint towards what’s been happening at home and Carrie catches wind of it, you’re fucked. “It’s just that I’m in charge of pickup and drop off.”

“Y/N,” Melissa says. “If you want to make this transition from home to school easier for your daughter, I really do think-”

“Miss Schemmenti,” you cut her off gently as you hold up a hand. “I really do have to be getting to work.”

“Very well,” the redhead sighs as her eyebrows creep up her forehead. It’s clear you’ve stunned her. “I’ll see you for pickup… on time.”

You just give her what you hope is a convincing nod. You know you won’t be on time, and you’re positive you’re going to be getting another stern talking to later in the day.

You’re forced to stay late after work, being reprimanded by your boss. Your head hangs low as you begin the walk down to your daughter’s school. And then your phone rings, and your wife’s contact lights up your screen.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“Why haven’t you picked up Millie yet?” are the first words out of Carrie’s mouth. No hello, no how are you. Just words practically spit out of her mouth.

“I’m on my way now,” you promise her quietly. “I got caught up at work.”

“Her bitch of a teacher called. Asked if I was coming since you hadn’t. Said Millie is in tears,” your wife tells you with a bite. “Maybe you should start putting more effort into your daughter than your fuckin’ job.”

It takes everything in you to not comment that perhaps it’s her who should try caring about your daughter- both of your daughter. You’ve found it more and more often she only refers to your bright little light as solely yours.

The words “I’m sorry” roll off your tongue for the first time of many today. You promise that you’re on your way to pick her up, and then you’ll be home to make dinner and settle in for the night with Millie.

When you finally get to the front steps of Abbott, you expect to see Melissa staring you down with hatred in her eyes. Instead, she’s sitting on the steps with an arm wrapped around your daughter, and she looks rather lost. Millie is beside herself as she clings to her teacher’s leather jacket. As soon as her eyes set on you, little legs race for you and tackle you in a hug with such a force that you can’t repress the groan in pain that bubbles it’s way out of your body.

“Hi, baby girl,” you whisper out as you smooth down as many of her flyaways as you can. “Hey, sweet girl.”

Millie just continues to whimper out your name as she clings to your sweater. Only once you feel that you’ve properly greeted your daughter and soothed her worries to the best of your ability do you glance at the teacher still sitting on the front stoop in front of you. The emerald eyes that usually look at you with such distain instead have an inkling of sorrow and sympathy in them.

“Miss Schemmenti, I’m so sorry I’m late,” is all you can get out. “I- I’m sorry.”

She just shakes her head sadly. “No, I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrow. That was probably the last thing you had expected to come out of her mouth. Your head tilts slightly to the side. “I beg your pardon?”

Melissa stands from her place, dusts herself off, and points towards the door. “I think we need to have a conversation in my classroom.”

“I really should be getting Mille home,” you try to protest weakly as you attempt to pry your daughter from your leg. “My wife is waiting for us, and she’s expecting dinner.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind if it’s just a bit later,” the redhead argues. “I really do think it would be best if we had this conversation today. Unless you would rather have your wife present when we speak of the matter?” Melissa knows she’s bluffing- she would never call Carrie in here, but she isn’t a poker champion without her outstanding poker face.

You freeze momentarily. She can’t call Carrie- that would not go over well for you at home tonight. “I- okay,” you agree quietly. “Just let me let her know we’ll be a bit later than she’s expecting.”

Once you’ve gotten in contact with your wife (and she is not thrilled about dinner not being on the table as early as she was expecting), you follow the redhead into the school silently. She takes a seat behind her desk and points towards a desk for you to take a seat at. Then she glances to your daughter. “Mill, why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on the bean bag and pick a good book to-”

“Melissa?” another voice rings out. It’s one that you’re familiar with. Mrs. Howard’s.

“Hey, Barb,” the second grade teacher gives a wave.

“You’re still here?”

“Meeting with a parent.”

Millie’s old kindergarten teacher gets a glance at you. “Hello, Mrs. Howard.”

“Hello, dear,” the warm voice says. “I hope you’ve been well.”

You can’t find the words, so you just nod through a tight lip.

Your daughter’s squeaky voice fills the room. “Mrs. Howard?” Little legs race for the kindergarten teacher.

“Hey, baby,” Barbara greets your daughter. “You’re still here?”

“Momma and Miss Schemmenti have a meeting. I’m reading on the carpet.”

“Well, why don’t you come join Mrs. Howard while they talk about boring grown up things?”

You cut in softly when your daughter lights up at the thought. “I’m sure Mrs. Howard has things to get home to, Millie.”

“Oh, please,” Barbara chuckles. “All I have at home is a husband waiting for dinner. He’ll understand if I’m late because I wanted to spend some time with one of my favorite former students.” She takes your daughter’s hand and leads her out of the room and down the hall. While you feel bad for putting your daughter off on your daughter’s former teacher, you’re entirely unaware of the fact that Melissa had orchestrated that little stunt earlier at lunch today to get you alone. And absolutely willing to help, Barbara agreed.

With your daughter no longer in the presence of the classroom, Melissa turns to you again. “Y/N, I wanted to speak with you about something concerning Millie told me today.”

Your blood runs cold. You know where this is going. Still though, you pretend to be unaware. “And that would be?”

“Well, once Millie calmed down from drop off this morning, I asked her why she always comes into school so upset when she very clearly loves being here once she’s settled in.” You nod along. “She told me that she was worried one day you wouldn’t come back to her.”

“Yes, I’m aware of this,” you tell her. “And we’re working through it.”

“I normally wouldn’t pull a parent into my room for something like that, because it isn’t necessarily uncommon for kiddos her age to have those fears. But-“

“But?”

“But when you were late picking her up, which I normally would hate-”

“I’ll pick her up on time from now on,” you state, fully knowing that you will be getting into so much trouble with your boss. But, Millie comes first, and you can always finish your hours from home if necessary.

“That is also not why I brought you in here,” the teacher tells you. “When you were later than usual, Millie burst into tears. I told her I would call you, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was in a meeting with my boss,” you sigh.

“And then she really went off,” Melissa whispers. “Crying about how you weren’t coming back for her because ‘Mom did it’.”

“I- I don’t know what she could possibly mean by that,” you stammer out.

“I think you do,” Melissa sighs as she runs a nervous hand through her hair. “But, continuing, I called Carrie to ask if she was going to come get your daughter. She- she was not very happy to receive a call from me.”

“I’m aware,” you mumble.

“I gotta say, she was not very pleasant,” your daughter’s second grade teacher says. “Definitely the opposite of you. Told me to go to hell for even insinuating that she would come get your daughter.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “She- she’s- I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the most concerning part about all of this,” Melissa sighs out. She bites her bottom lip. “When I asked Millie if everything was okay at home… If I thought she was crying before, damn.” You can’t find it in you to say anything in response, so you stay silent. “Millie told me that Carrie hurts you. That she’s always terrified of leaving you and then you not coming back because she’s killed you- that’s what she meant when she said ‘Mom did it’.”

“You’ve- you’ve met my little girl,” you say as evenly as you can, even attempting a chuckle. You refuse to meet the redhead’s eyes. “She’s got quite the imagination on her.”

“Millie told me that she hears the two of you late at night, when you think she’s asleep. She knows what’s happening, or at least thinks she knows.”

“We’ll- I’ll have a conversation with her tonight about how her mother and I are fine- that nothing is-”

“Y/N,” Melissa cuts you off. “I’m going to ask you, just this once, is Carrie abusing you?” The way that the woman in front of you asks the question tells you she already knows the answer.

You freeze in the chair you’re sitting in. Your right legs stops bouncing, you stop twiddling your thumbs, you even stop breathing for a few seconds. You weigh your options: fold and tell her that things are… rocky (an understatement) between you and your wife but assure her that Millie is fine, or run.

You don’t get to make a decision, because before you know it, Millie is racing into the room, Barbara Howard not far behind. And your little girl yanks off your sweater to reveal a canvas of purple, yellow, and green going up your arms. And in that moment, you know… you’re fucked.

Part 2

tags: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader

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radio-fmm · 7 months ago

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A princess armor

Zoro x princess!reader

afab reader, fluff, mentions of misogyny in reader’s past

1.5k words

Tagging: @alucardsdaddyissues

When you heard about some group of pirates docking on your island you didn’t quite expected them to rescue you, after all, you hated to be seen as a damsel in distress

Nonetheless,there was nothing wrong in asking for help. And hell you needed it

Being born a woman and the only heir to your fathers throne had turned your life into a living hell since you can recall; overlooked, treated like a decoration only expected to marry rich and powerful, your father ever cold and absent hated your mere existence, a remainder of his failure to continue his strong lineage because no matter what you did you were never enough

And hell you had worked so hard to impress that old man; you were a remarkable fencer, excelling in every topic of conversation you had been educated in, always being praised by your strategy abilities and expected to be the perfect queen by this alone. The list of your achievements was long, an overachiever if you will… but he never cared, what can any of that be of use in the body of a woman?

You hid your emphatic and kind heart under a strong cold armor to protect yourself from the cruel world around you; still, Monkey D. Luffy was able to tear trough it, offering him and his crew a sympathetic hand

You thought you were helping them, turns out they were helping you. The moment the colorful crew heard about your life behind the walls of the castle and your fathers evil empire, they didn’t hesitate in taking you in, after all you had been more than helpful and kind

So you escaped joining them as the strategist and diplomat for the crew, finally free from expectations, slowly taking your armor off before it had rusted into you forever

“What can a princess know about fighting anyway?” Zoro’s voice is sharp and quick to ambush you, you wished his opinion about you didn’t mattered, but as you are about to set sail by his side you can’t help the need to defend your case climbing quickly to your tongue

“I’ve been educated by the greatest warriors and strategist in my kingdom as I was expected to rule my nation one day”- every single word leaves your mouth like butter, an ease and confidence the swordsman perhaps didn’t expect from someone with your background, you stand proud with eyes that pierce right trough his being and eyebrows scrunched down without a drop of a doubt making him shiver.- “Believe me Mr. Roronoa, I am more than capable”

And that was no lie. Every since your arrival to the crew, the strawhats found themselves winning their battles with much ease and organization; the number of injuries after battle dropped immensely, your time in the battlefield reduced in half and no one was getting lost, the latter being resolved by planting you beside the stubborn green haired swordsman that was obviously not happy about this new routine

“Stop following me, princess” he grumbled, your step quickening at the same rythm as his which was quite the hassle from your part considering one step from Zoro was two of your own

“Stop calling me that”- your hand flies to grab on his shirt, your touch stiffening every muscle on his back and his heart skipping a beat, a feeling unwelcome and alien. As uneasy as he felt, his step never falters leading you behind him as you trot around the streets, annoyance clear on your face.- “As much as I want to continue my errands without you, I don’t want you getting lost around here, this is not a welcoming place for pirates and your face is quite recognizable”

His walking finally comes to a halt, making you quite literally crash behind him a yelp of surprise escaping through your lips.- “Fine” he finally relents

Zoro replays that evening in his head over and over as he peeks down from the crows nest, it was the first time you made his stomach turn and this strange warmth extend trough his body, and he still wonders why. While Usopp and Luffy play cards, he watches as you take the cards that the sniper was hiding on the back of his overalls making Luffy get up and bash on him as you laugh. The sound even tough muffled by the glass makes him smile, that same feeling he recalled moments ago blooming in his being once again, but he now welcomes it

So he wonders what would it take him to impress you, to make you want him as much as he wants you, you’re royalty after all. The stories of the suitors that had knocked at your door with gifts and promises still on the back of his mind sour and venomous, he compared himself to them and it dawned on him the act that he had nothing to offer you, other than his own life, was that enough for you?

Little did he know you were trying to impress him since day 1 on the ship, training day and night to earn his respect and admiration which best believe you already got more than that, yet you seemed to find yourself repeating the same pattern of your old life

“You did great back there” Zoro commented one time, before taking a swing from his beer. You turned your attention to him, admiring the way his earrings glistened with the light of the bar, a smile quick to spread on your face that you erased as fast as it came, not wanting to give yourself away

“Really? Thanks” even though your tone was nonchalant and casual your insides did a 360, relishing on your victory, after spending the last few months over training like a maniac and studying more fencing techniques had finally earned you a compliment, his compliment

Zoro’s eyes go over and over your form, as if trying to keep it in his memory to admire you even when you weren’t there which could be much easier, since the mere thought of you made him stumbling. As if in command, you look up to the crows nest, your gaze locking with his for a fleeting moment that makes Zoro loose track of thought, you offer him a sweet smile and a tiny wave which he answers by freezing for a while, then scowling and turning away from the window

Oh god

The thing about this whole tangle of gazes, feelings and smiles was that Zoro could not figure you out; you were a mystery, a concept that he can’t quite grasp even after months of knowing you and quite literally living with you on the sea. You had the elegance and gentleness of a princess out of a romance book, and the bravery and might of a warrior, all of that wrapped around your wit and beauty that had him losing his breath

He felt useless

His mind drifting to images of you while he trained, dreams by your side slipping on his sleep, his eyes glued to you in the battle field, his heart singing your name at any change it got

What can he could possibly give you that you don’t already have?

“Boo!!!”- Your voice startles him pulling him out of his daze, something he was certainly not used to, his eyes jump to your face painted with a big smile as you giggle at his expense.- “Got ya”

You sit delicately by his side, still giggling while he clicks his tongue to express his annoyance.- “That’s not really princess of you to do” you frown at the title just as he expected, his scowl turning into a proud smirk

“Stop calling me that” you turn to face the window behind both of you, looking over the deck

“Hiding from someone?” Zoro comments although he already has an idea

“Let’s just say Usopp doesn’t quite like being called out on his cheating” a honest loud laugh rumbled from the bottom of the swordsman chest, eliciting a bright smile from you, It is this moments that you treasure, moments that feed on your heart that had long belonged to him without even knowing it

The sunset beams that color the sky crash on your features, brightening your presence making Zoro’s mind wonder once again. He couldn’t understand how could you take him out of it by simply being, his eyes take another round around you, stopping at your plump lips. A new feeling takes over him, it makes his chest heavy and his breath erratic as he stops himself from crashing into them. Suddenly his doubts puddled as you sink at his side, a playful glint in your eye as his heart clenched at the thought of you seeking him while looking after a safe place

He may not be royalty, have absolutely nothing but his katanas to his name but he’ll bend the world backwards for you, and something tells him you don’t want all that fancy shit other men could offer you, you want genuine love, real love. So he savors the quiet in your company up on the crows nest, slowly letting both of you guards down to embrace each other, the armor that you once hid behind long discarded leaving you bear and free

Because whats more romantic than that?

Masterlist

#one piece #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro x reader #one piece roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #op zoro #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #x reader #zoro fluff #one piece one shot #zoro one shot #one piece imagine

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seuonji · 1 year ago

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彡 living with you.

notes ๑ scenarios of things that occurred when you started living with your svt bf!

genre ๑ fluff

warnings ๑ none but in seokmin’s one it’s hinted the reader wears makeup!!

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

waking up early with seungcheol/soonyoung/jihoon and going grocery shopping!!

seungcheol has a hard time saying no when you want to buy unrelated items like house decoration or a grill— you always end up buying too much and struggle to carry the items back home.

you’re the one who has to control soonyoung when it comes to buying stuff but like wdym he can’t buy the tiger themed cooking set? fortunately, he’s great at remembering a ‘things to buy’ list but what comes with that is a tornado that wants to buy a bicycle along the way.

jihoon would ask you “are you sure you need it.” or “what are you going to use it for.” you end up leaving the store with what you actually need. but he might slip in a tub of ice cream or a pack of candy you like when you reach the counter.

jeonghan pulling you back to bed whenever you move after waking up. it’s a pain when you have to pee cause he will not let go.

“it’s so early, why are you already leaving?”

he loves nuzzling his face into your neck but if you don’t enjoy that you’re just gonna have to kick him in the shins to push him away ʅ（◞_◟）ʃ.

joshua loves going out but when he moved in with you, his outing time decreased sufficiently. he loves laying on the couch with you as you two turn off your brains and talk about random stuff while your mixed playlist plays in the background.

for some reason, you always walk in on jun in the middle of doing a silly dance. he will not hesitate to drag you to dance with him.

on a cuter note, when he’s free he definitely surprises you with breakfast in bed. he takes note of things you’re craving and serves it to you without fail.

wonwoo placed another chair beside his gaming chair. it’s there so that you can sit beside him while he’s gaming.

i mean, you usually sit on his lap but sometimes he jumps in the middle of playing when he gets frustrated at the game… so he had to implement the second chair—

seokmin loves joining you while you get ready to go out. he just sits beside you and plays with your hair but if you ask him to dry or brush your hair, he’ll do it. might even help you organise you stuff so that it doesn’t hassle you when you get back home.

mingyu heard your stomach rumble late at night. he laughed about it and you got offended, making it clear by facing your back towards him.

“i’m sorry yn!” he said between laughs as he pulled you towards him.

“shut up, go sleep.”

“come let me cook you a meal, what do you want?”

turns into a night of you sitting on the counter while mingyu’s at the stove cooking the meal you requested. he’d wear an apron even if it was 4 in the morning.

minghao, you let him use the spare room for his art but it sort of turned into your healing room. you two just stay there, no electronics, no phones, not much except for art supplies on the floor and a small stool. minghao often sits as you lay your head on his lap but you two switch of course. on the days he had art block, with consent, he’d paint on your skin to try and get some ideas.

“ooh i like that one!” you beamed as you took a peek to your arm that minghao was painting on.

“really? guess i found my next piece.”

getting noise complaints with seungkwan/chan after you two argued over who could get a score of 100% on karaoke.

also i feel like he’s type to tackle you when he hugs you so there’s so many loud thuds and every time that happens—

bottom line y’all loud as hell.

but on another note about the hugs, he def always tackles you onto the bed whenever you come back home from work or an outing or just after you shower!!

breakfast at the balcony with vernon!

there on the balcony, you both have either really deep conversations or the most pointless conversations to exist. if your neighbours could hear you, they’d be concerned cause your topics really go from “do i deserve to exist?” to “i think i could be president and it would go well.”

you two could start a podcast, it will succeed. or that’s just what vernon likes to believe.

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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago

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holidays with tom would include - headcanon

Christmas is one of your favorite holidays, mostly because you get to be at home with Tom and enjoy your time together

Tom and you love spending evenings baking gingerbread cookies and trying out new festive recipes together in the kitchen, him annoying you by putting frosting on your nose and making a mess with the ingredients on purpose.

During the lead-up to Christmas, you both embark on a mission to find the perfect tree. Tom insists on cutting it down himself, claiming that he’s strong enough to handle all the hassle. You end up getting one from the store like every year but you couldn’t love it more once you decorate it.

Cocoa by the fireplace is a must. Almost every evening, you would curl up in the living room wrapped in soft blankets and snuggle while you sip on your hot cocoa cups and snuggle as close as possible.

Holiday nights are dedicated to watching your favorite Christmas films, Tom complaining about how cheesy they are but watching them with you every single time because he loves when you get excited about your favorite parts.

Tom definitely tries to impress you with what he calls his “talent for crafting homemade decorations” by making ornaments for your tree, however, his clumsy side comes out and he ends up messing his own crafts.

You usually have to beg him to take you to the local ice skating rink but he ends up giving it every time, mostly because he gets to catch you when you trip and then tease you about your skating skills (or lack thereof)

You hold a friendly competition to see who can wrap the better gifts, Tom pretending he's not that good at it but secretly taking extra care to make yours look perfect.

Every year, you participate in charity drive, whether it’s volunteering at a shelter or donating toys to children in need. It’s something you’ve always been passionate about and it makes Tom’s heart absolutely melt.

You both create your own holiday playlists and take turns playing them during your baking sessions, cozy evenings, or while decorating the house. Tom insists his selection is much better and yours is cheesy (you might or might not added ‘Santa tell me’ by Ariana Grande more than four times) but secretly, he loves some of the tracks from your list.

On New Year's Eve, you have your own tradition of writing down wishes for the upcoming year and saving them on a small jar that you open the following year to see which ones you accomplished.

It’s no secrets that Tom writes “I wish to have my girl by my side for another 365 days” every year, and it never fails to make your heart jump on your chest over how much love you have for him.

short but sweet 🥹 happy holidays to everyone ! i hope you like this

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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slttygeto · 3 months ago

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༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 06: temptation's tangle

preview: ". . . “What’s the occasion?” “Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin. “What? You don’t trust me?” “Exactly, I don’t.” “Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” . ."

content warning: suggestive content, abandonment issues, hanma is a d!ck but what's new.

word count: 5,4k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa @bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

➜ note: yet another chapter woohoo!! this one's a bit exciting for me because we get to see new characters appearing in the reader's life. and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

Saturdays were for resets. You didn’t like to go out that much during the weekends, so it was a hassle to reject your co-worker’s offer to go out for drinks the night after a long week of exhausting and intense work. You would much rather stay inside, go over your to-do list and look around your place to see which area needed the most cleaning. The kitchen was definitely a mess, but your room? Good lord. Your room looked as though a hurricane had passed and devoured it before spitting it out.

No matter how much you tried to be organized, you always found yourself with a mess on the floor, half of your makeup on your vanity and the other half in the bathroom along with a bunch of shoes lined up next to your entrance. You puff out some air as you stand in the middle of your room.

“I really need to get my shit together.” Have you said these words before? Absolutely.

Will you probably say them again in two weeks? Oh, of course.

But right now, you need a distraction from what happened two days ago–something that quiets down the voice that keeps nagging you to grab your phone and check if he sent a message, if something had changed. You recognized that you were being a walking contradiction–between promising yourself to be mad at him and loathing him only a week ago, to suddenly wishing he was in your bedroom, pinning you to your mattress and drilling his cock into you–yeah, you were a mess.

It’s not like you didn’t have a vibrator, or hands! Your hands did an amazing job at fulfilling your needs, you knew where to touch yourself, how to stroke your pussy in a way that had your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. A sigh would then escape your lips, a needy one because nothing felt as amazing as a mindblowing orgasm after teasing yourself for so long. Your hips would then buck up, and your hand is rubbing very messily at your poor clit before you cum with a loud and long moan–

“Shuji–!”

You snap out of it so fast, jolting up away from your bed and blinking at your reflection in the mirror.

What the fuck?

A grown ass woman–one who gets action…not that often, but still enough to fulfill her needs, daydreaming about a man whom she slept with once? It doesn’t make sense. Or maybe it does, you're too deep in denial to admit that the person you've been longing for is the same man who shaped parts of your teenage years, even if it was only for a short time.

The heavy sigh that leaves you is so loud that it bounces off the walls of your empty apartment. So vacant, but it reminds you how Hanma’s short yet dominating presence was enough to make it feel…less hollow. You hated how he filled the void that you had been long wanting to replace, whether it be by decorating your space with greenery or going on pottery dates with friends or even getting your cat more toys just to watch him run around the apartment–the loneliness was hard to swallow. You despised the feeling, it gripped you by the throat and forced you to remember the framed pictures sitting on the shelf above the TV. Friends, family, co-workers–you were made of pieces of them, each having given you a memory to cling onto and use it as a lifeline.

What do you do when that lifeline is barely hanging by a thread?

Your eyes land on the singular picture that rests on your nightstand, and your frown deepens for a moment as realization hits you. The two people in this picture were supposed to stay with you for a long time, your protectors as they liked to call themselves. You purse your lips and inhale deeply. The bitter aftertaste sitting on your tongue is hard to wash down.

You were perfectly fine being shaped by bits of everyone you'd ever met, but weren’t your brothers meant to be there for life?

“Here, keep this on you all the time.” You stare at the shiny knife as your oldest brother places it on your nightstand, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and you’re forced to close your book.

“A knife?”

“Yeah, it’s for your safety.”

“Ran, why would I need to carry a knife with me?”

“You never know,” you’re not sure if that’s meant to comfort you—probably not.

Ran Haitani is very proud of the fact that he had adopted you. Technically, his parents did–but he hated them, and they abandoned you a long time ago, so it was he who adopted you. He remembers you being a tiny baby in your mother’s arms the day that she had picked you up from the adoption center, said something about how she was so excited for this new chapter of her life, and both Ran and Rindou were excited–over the moon to be welcoming a little sister. At 6 and 5 years old, they didn’t know what blood related meant– it never mattered to them in the first place even as they got older. You were a Haitani, their precious little sister, and that meant the whole world to them.

However, the bond grew a little bit stronger after your parents left. Your father was the first to abandon the family, you were 5, Ran was 10 and Rindou’s 9th birthday was approaching. You remember it being a cold day–it wasn’t gloomy outside or anything, but as you sat in the middle of the living room with your brothers by your side, the apartment felt a bit bigger, emptier. A child is fragile, anything can affect them if not dealt with properly–the absence of your father was the first time you had to experience your ‘big feelings’ as Ran liked to describe them. You don’t know what holding back tears is, so you cry as you hug your knees to your chest and let Rindou soothe your back with a gentle hand. It’s a small gesture, but enough to anchor your stuttering breaths.

“It’s okay,” Rindou says as you sniffle. When you look at him, you see that his eyes are glossed over with something–tears. He blinks them away as soon as he catches you staring at him. “It’s not like we need him, right?”

“Of course not,” Ran speaks confidently, standing over you and Rindou with a superhero-like stance. “As long as you’ve got me, nothing will happen to you!”

“And me!” Upon seeing his older brother act like a superhero, Rindou quickly jumps up and stands next to him. It’s adorable, it gives you hope–your little child body, so overwhelmed with emotion and having to deal with the abandonment of a parent temporarily distracted by the two boys standing in front of you.

“I’m Sailor Uranus,” Ran extends one arm outward with his fingers splayed, while his other arm is bent at his side. He shares a look with Rindou, trying to mask his wobbling lips. Rindou averts his gaze, cheeks set ablaze with overwhelming emotion. Sadness, embarrassment mixed with determination to make you, his little sister, feel better even for a few moments.

“And I’m Sailor Neptune!” Rindou extends his arm forward, with his other hand pointing slightly upward towards you. Your heart swells with emotion, and you bring your arm to your face to wipe your tears.

“I..I’m Sailor Moon!” You join in weakly, and for a moment—(just a small one), everything seems okay. You have your brothers with you, recreating your favorite characters’ pose and trying to cheer you up. Just for a split second, you’re distracted from the ache that invades your heart and spreads all over your chest.

But distractions are bad. Like a bandage on a leaking dam, offering a false sense of control while the real flood builds behind them.

You had always looked up to your mother. It’s natural for a child to have an innocent fascination with one particular parent—after your father left, your mother had become everything to you. Now that you look back at it, it was definitely fear of being separated from her. Losing her so unexpectedly like you did with your father. You would sit in the living room waiting for her to come back from work, whilst Ran and Rindou were outside playing and didn’t necessarily mind the absence of their mother. They were older after all, and perhaps were able to see her for who she truly was earlier than you did.

“She’s not going to come back on time,” Ran announces from behind you. You don’t move, still looking out of the window and waiting for her silhouette to appear. “You have to eat.”

“No,” you don’t mean for your voice to crack, but alas you’re a child and you cannot control your emotions. You wear your heart on your sleeve and the hurt you’re feeling from your mother’s repetitive tardiness is very apparent. “I’m not hungry.”

As if to mock you, your stomach growls the moment you say it. And Ran sighs behind you before approaching you.

“No–” you push him away when he wraps his hand around your arm. “I won’t eat–!”

“Rindou hasn’t eaten all day,” Ran’s voice is stern. It momentarily distracts you from your stubbornness and your bottom lip starts wobbling. “He doesn’t want to eat without you—so please,” his voice is now barely above a whisper and your eyes meet his own lavender ones. The sob you choke out is raw, painful–you can’t hold it back any longer and you fall forward, attaching yourself onto your older brother. The taller boy holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back as he heaves out a sigh.

No child deserves to go through this.

A few months later, you get accustomed to seeing your mother less often. By the age of 10, Ran and Rindou had managed to make a name for themselves around the area–the rulers of Roppongi. You choose to ignore the events that led them in juvenile detention, you don’t necessarily associate that with great memories but life feels… simple.

Whilst Ran brings the food and takes care of anything money related, Rindou is the one who is in tune with your emotional needs. He holds you in his arms when you are sad and caresses your head when you’re upset after a particularly nasty fight with Ran. Rindou reminds you of the importance of the rules that they had given you when they started ruling Roppongi, that the way you dress is very important as a Haitani—their little sister.

You carried that with you through adulthood.

The walls of your apartment have heard you cry for them, felt your sobs and longing. It’s strange how your apartment only knows of their existence through pictures, like ghosts they've never seen in person. Like hearing the echo of laughter in an empty room—faint and distant, yet it lingers, reminding you of the voices that once filled your childhood.

You are filled with sadness and melancholy and longing—you feel ready to burst like a heavy rain cloud but somehow, you find the strength to hold it all in whilst darkening everything beneath you. Whilst the past few years have been one of the most important ones in your life, you can't deny that with every person you encountered, the shell guarding your heart grew tougher. Like armor forged over time.

It’s useless to grieve the past, you can’t let it distract you from the task at hand, so you grab your vacuum cleaner and get to work.

Hopefully you’re done before sunset.

–

Ding dong

The digital clock on your microwave flashes 8:12PM in red, bold colors. You did your usual cleaning, showered and dried your hair, planned an outfit for Monday and were checking on some work you needed to do before the week starts. Who would visit you at this time of the day?

None of your co-workers had texted you all day, and you were hoping that they weren’t here to try to convince you to go out. Saying no to them the first time was hard as it is.

“Shoooo,” you tell your cat as he races you to the front door. “Go away, you can’t get out,” you mumble to your fur companion as you place him on his cat tree and watch as he digs his claws into the plush fabric before running away to your room.

Ding–ding ding ding!

“Coming! I’m coming,” you rush to unlock the door, forgetting to check through the peephole. As you open it, you get a whiff of a familiar perfume and a tall figure is standing a little too close to you.

“Wha–”

“I got dinner.”

Of course it would be him.

He stands before you in all his glory. Brand new suit, messy hair (he must’ve had a long day) and shoes that definitely looked less shinier than usual. You try not to stare too hard at his body, fight the carnal urge that tells you to keep your eyes a little longer on his thighs and lean against the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin.

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“Exactly, I don’t.”

“Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” you yank him inside your apartment and Hanma almost lets out a giggle at how flustered you looked. “You need to stop saying shit like that in my hallway.”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“People could hear you,” you shoot him a glare as you walk away from him. Hanma doesn’t miss the chance of checking out your ass in your tight booty shorts. He licks his lips and follows right behind you, plastic bags rustling as he places the food on the kitchen counter.

“What did you get anyway?” You ask as you sit back on the kitchen table, nose shoved deep in your laptop as you continue your work. You’re far too focused on the words in front of you to notice that Hanma had quieted down and was now fully staring at you–taking the sight of you and placing it at the forefront of his mind.

Despite having seen you naked before, Shuji thinks that you look the most attractive like this. Like the adult women that you matured into. He can’t remember the last time he saw you this concentrated—(was it when he snuck into your room as teenagers? He found you sitting at your desk, nose buried in your homework that you didn’t even notice him opening your window after he had climbed your fire escape). He can’t say he doesn’t like it. The smallest details stood out to the same man who claims to be nonchalant about everything else–the slight pout and frown to your lips, eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting across the screen, pausing briefly to take in each and every word. You wear glasses now.

(And glasses look good on you, they make your nose look cute).

A sigh escapes your lips and as you inhale, you finally catch his stare. Intense like a spotlight, analyzing your every move and pinning you in place.

For obvious reasons, you feel tense under the weight of his golden eyes fixed on you. Exposed, stripped of any secrets you hadn’t even dared to write down in your diary. Hanma’s eyes had the effect of unraveling every guarded truth, as if his intense gaze alone could coax confessions from the deepest corners of your soul.

Like how you touch yourself to the thought of him.

You avert your gaze towards the bag, growing uncomfortable with the suffocating silence.

“So?”

“Ramen.” You almost deadpan at the man. It’s fascinating how he can shift the tension in the room just by spilling out a few words.

“You bought ramen??”

“Am I not allowed to?” He pushes himself off of the kitchen counter and starts walking towards you.

“When you said I got dinner, I thought you meant a meal,” you take off your glasses and place them on the table before staring at the bag tiredly. “That’s an unhealthy meal, Hanma.”

“That’s what I get for dinner, usually.”

“You’ve got money.”

“Your point?”

“Go to restaurants??” you say in disbelief and Hanma shrugs his shoulders as he stands next to you, enjoying the obvious height difference. One that reminds him of how big his hands looked on your thighs that night.

“Tooooo much work,” he drags out his words before stretching his arms over his head. The action elicits a yawn out of his lips and you scoff before grabbing the bag and emptying its content on the table. “Besides, what’s so bad about having instant ramen?”

“It’s unhealthy,” you reply flatly, reaching for the electric kettle. You fill it up with water before pressing the ‘on’ button, the action coming to you so quickly and naturally that it makes Hanma raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, you turned it on a little too fast for someone who thinks instant ramen is unhealthy,”

“Because this is my kitchen?” The reply you give is laced with sarcasm, absolutely done with whatever he has to say and all Hanma does is just stand back and grin. How fun.

“Right, of course,” you avert your gaze the moment Hanma’s fingers wrap around his tie, loosening it to allow himself to breathe a little–feel comfortable in an apartment that has already welcomed him twice already. Does he remember the layout? Not exactly. However, his brain is able to trace the map from your kitchen to your bedroom like a professional cartographer. The detail was etched in their mind, like a name carved into stone.

So he makes himself comfortable, he walks past you and into the living room and you watch as he sits on your couch and stares around your decorated space.

“Is that a cat tree?” he points at the item sitting near the window.

“Mmmh,” you hum in response, pouring water into the instant ramen cups. “Why?”

“ ‘s just that I’ve never seen your cat,” he looks around, trying to figure out where your fur companion might be. “But I see signs of that fucker everywhere.”

“Don’t call my cat a fucker.” You almost hiss and it catches Hanma off guard. Not that it was the first time you ever spoke to him in that tone, but you must be very attached to your cat.

“Whew,” he whistles as he raises his arms in the air.. “My bad. Didn’t know you were that kind of person.”

Your eye twitches.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you pause on your way to the living room, the cups of ramen were starting to burn your hands but you could care less.

“Y’know, getting all defensive over an animal?”

“You mean have empathy and emotional connection?”

“Emotional connection with a cat?” Hanma braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. His side profile comes into view, but he quickly turns to face you and he sees the way you were slowly losing your patience. “That shit is for people who are lonely.”

It is eerily silent after that. For a good five seconds, Hanma doesn’t seem to understand why you give no reply nor do you make a move. He looks away, pats his pocket to find his phone and turns to look at you. You are still glued to your spot.

You hope he doesn't hear the sound of your heart breaking, or notice the way your body instantly deflates.

“It must be.” Your reply is devoid of any emotion. You look away from Hanma’s intense gaze, suddenly growing uncomfortable under all of the attention he was giving you. As you take a seat on the couch (while maintaining a good distance between you and the tall man), you push Hanma’s cup towards him.

“Here.”

“Thank you.”

Hanma doesn’t feel comfortable with the silence. It bothers him that he doesn’t.

You try not to pay attention to him, but it turns out that it’s a hard task given how huge the man is. He spreads his legs on your couch, leaving you almost no space, so you have to nudge his thigh with your knee.

“Move, you’re taking up too much space.” You’re still avoiding his gaze, and Hanma’s finger twitches as he reaches for his ramen cup.

“I’m a tall man, doll.”

“Don’t care, you’re sitting on my couch.” You say it with a hint of childishness, your tone laced with annoyance.

Hanma chooses to let it slide and slightly closes his legs, allowing you more space on your small couch. However, your behavior still doesn’t sit right with him. You're not truly aware of your surroundings, even though it may seem like you are—one moment you’re holding your chopsticks, the next you’re looking for the remote control. Hanma watches as you jab at the noodles with your chopsticks, seemingly unfazed by the steam rising from the cup.

“It’s hot.”

Be careful.

“Ah!” you hold a hand to your mouth, your chopsticks falling on the surface of your coffee table. Your eyes are pricking with tears, and you fan your mouth whilst internally cursing yourself for not paying attention.

“Told you it’s hot,” he sounds unbothered—perhaps a little bored, but still reaches for your face to grab it. You don’t fight back despite the urge to get away from him—from his touch. His rough hand holds your jaw like a rag doll and you force yourself to open your eyes. “Open up.” He takes notice of your swollen lips, then you stick out your tongue and it’s reddened.

In that moment, you realize there's no space left between the two of you. Any distance you tried to maintain with the tall man has vanished, and you let it happen—you let yourself forget why you're mad at him, giving your mind a break from the constant tension around him.

Everything quiets down, you instantly find yourself lost in the same gaze you had been trying long and hard to avoid. You feel hot—you are sure Hanma’s body feels like a furnace against your skin. However, like two flames flickering inches apart, you both burn with the same heat but never quite touch in a way that would have you melting like a candle.

It’s a continuous tug of war inside your brain as you hold his gaze, your pulse quickening with each subconscious attempt at moving closer to him—even by an inch. Technically, the two of you were now fuckbuddies, two friends who fuck when the other is free or one is feeling like it. There were no strings attached, no responsibilities, no—

“Ya hungry?” Hanma’s voice is a few octaves deeper. You feel a chill run down your spine before making a poor attempt at shaking your head whilst he’s still holding your jaw.

You feel a pair of lips against yours, and you take it as a response to what you had told him.

Hanma’s kisses are rough—he pushes his entire body on top of yours as he kisses you, trapping you beneath him.

You’re glad the cushions beneath you are soft, because the way he pins you down is anything but.

Dominating and playful, he moves his lips against yours in such a dizzying manner that you have to tap his shoulder to ask him for air. But even when he pulls away from your lips to allow you oxygen, his lips land on another patch of skin—your cheek, your jaw, his teeth nibble at your earlobe and he can feel his cock throb when you buck up your hips.

“Impatient, aren’t we?”

He presses his forehead against yours and you grow annoyed. Frustration washes over you as you realize you crave more of him, even though you know you shouldn't allow the man so close or invade your personal space. Yet, here you are, yielding beneath him. His kisses are like a wildfire in your veins—once it ignites, it spreads uncontrollably, and no matter how dangerous, you can’t help but feed the flames.

And feed the flames, you do.

Hanma has never seen you so eager, so needy—sure he’s fucked you before, he’s nestled his cock so deep within the snug walls of your pussy but this–

This was different.

You’re craving him—his lips against yours like a lifeline. Not once has he seen your body move so desperately against his own whilst your clothes are still on. It makes the muscles of his face twitch.

Smirking, he grabs the back of your thigh and pushes it up to your chest before leaning down—face dangerously close to yours. He doesn’t say anything, eyes scanning your expression—the twitch to your lips, the slight furrow to your eyebrows and the sigh that escapes through your nose from how needy you are. You throw your head back against the couch, nudging Hanma’s butt with your free foot.

“You’re staring.”

“Am I?” His tone, his words—they make the butterflies in your stomach erupt like wildfire. You can only afford to whine in response, clearly struggling to take his teasing. He is so dominant— to the point where submitting to him was the only choice you had. As you lie beneath him, Hanma is like a cat playing with a string, effortlessly toying with your patience and leaving you both frustrated and horny.

Incredibly horny.

“Shuji,” you reach your hands towards his face, holding it and brushing your thumbs against his cheeks. You brush your nose against his, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip so softly—so gently that it makes him chuckle.

“You’re gentle with it,” he breathes hotly against your lips, digging his fingers into your skin to show you how rough he likes it. You’re about to push him off of you, straddle his lap and show him that you can be rough with it. It feels like a treat you’re craving, it’s attached to a string and Hanma keeps pulling it away from you every time you’re about to have it—

A loud moan escapes your lips when he’s back on you so suddenly, not giving you enough time to breathe or ground yourself. Gripping his shoulders, Hanma enjoys the feeling of your nails digging into his skin—it ignites his body on fire and heightens his senses. The tall man grows more aware of your body temperature, of the vanilla body lotion you had freshly applied onto your skin or how you seem to be letting your nails grow longer—he’s locked in.

“Oh doll,” he breathes out against your lips as he pulls away. You’re about to moan in response, rile him up further until he’s snatching your clothes off your skin and dig his cock deep into your insides–

“Fuck!” Hanma shouts–no, he screams out of nowhere and is pushing his body off of you. “What the fuck?!”

“What–what?! What’s wrong?” you’re confused, a little startled as you push yourself up with your elbows.

“Motherfucker–” you hear hissing from the end of the couch, and you look behind Hanma to find your cat sinking his claws into his back. “Let go of me!”

“Calm down!” you try to separate the two, get your cat off the couch and Hanma to stop reaching for the back of his blouse.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down when this little fucker–I will fucking–”

“I said calm down.” you repeat sternly. Your hands reach for your cat’s paws, although he hisses at you, you still understand that it’s a normal reaction for him. Standing up, you grab your fur companion who tries to wriggle out of your hold and he comes face to face with a furious Hanma.

Your cat hisses again.

“The fuck is his problem?”

“He’s not used to strangers,” you caress your pet’s head, sensing that he’s on high alert. “Let alone men.”

“Your cat hates men?”

Your face twists. “My cat isn’t a misandrist.” You roll your eyes at him. “He just… doesn’t appreciate men.”

“Fancy fucking word–”

“Anyway, I’m taking him to his room.”

“This fucker has a room?”

“Technically it’s my office.”

Hanma watches as you walk away with the fur companion who meows very loudly, making his dislike towards the man very clear. He hears you try to shush the pet, promise it good food and treats as long as he behaves and if Hanma didn’t know any better, he would think you were crazy.

Maybe you were. He would never show that much patience towards an animal.

But now he is able to process what has happened. Assessing the situation, the realization that he got cockblocked by a damn cat hits him like a truck and he sits there, dumbfounded and half offended.

Cockblocked by a fucking cat.

You walk back into the living room, looking a bit embarrassed and Hanma takes it that you had come to the same conclusion as him. You stand next to the couch, awkward and stiff and your hands are fiddling with the fabric of your shorts before you open your mouth.

“I-”

“Don’t even.”

Hearing his bored tone, you deflate and sigh before plopping next to him on the couch. You were now drier than the Sahara and he didn’t seem interested in rearranging your insides as he was a few moments ago.

Well, you still have your food to finish.

“Want me to heat up your food again?”

“Mmm, sure.”

—

Hanma plans to leave as soon as he’s done eating. It’s almost hilarious the way he grabs his jacket the moment he slurps the final noodle into his mouth and you don’t have it in you to ask him where he’s going.

After all, it wasn’t part of your agreement. Despite the fact that you didn’t even fuck properly tonight, you still knew that his business wasn’t yours to know and his presence was always going to be temporary.

“The elevator’s working by the way,” you are throwing the cups of Ramen in the trash when you suddenly speak up and Hanma has to pause his movements.

“They fixed it?”

“After paying a huge sum of money, yeah they did.”

“That’s good.”

“Mmmhm.” Cold and distant, this is how you want to present yourself to the same man who has no problem taking your heart in his hands and shattering it into small pieces.

“Next time I come over, I hope that fucker doesn’t dig his nails into my ass next.” Next time.

“I’ll make sure we fuck on my bed then.” You say playfully, bringing the glass of water to your lips and Hanma watches as you maintain eye contact the whole time.

“Oh yeah? Already planning the next time we gonna fuck?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You were good. I’d be a fool if I said I didn’t want it again.”

Hanma chuckles, offering his signature smirk with a tilt to his head. “Good? Not great, or fucking amazing?”

“Good.” You put emphasis on the word, but the tall man notices how you avoid his eyes and it’s an indirect confession.

“Sounds like you want me to change your mind.” Squeezing your thighs at the sound of his deep voice, you almost moan in relief when you see him start to take off his jacket.

Fucking finally.

“Maybe I do.”

—

The November cold was unbearable. The man shivers inside his own car and his hand reaches towards the heater to turn it on. He doesn’t understand why he is here, it was too late for him to be parked under a residential building and he sure hopes he doesn’t look suspicious with the way he keeps checking for the door.

“Come on, come on…”

Almost on cue, the door opens and a tall figure walks out. Hair messed up, clothes half adjusted and a cigarette hanging off his lips. It was none other than Hanma Shuji. The man watches as the criminal checks his phone for a good ten seconds before blowing out smoke, his chest stutters a bit as he scoffs and he shoves the device into his pocket before walking towards his car.

Hanma doesn’t seem to notice the unknown car and the mysterious man is grateful for that. He wants to avoid problems.

However, how was he going to explain his sudden visit at 11:30PM?

He shouldn’t…or perhaps he should.

When you open the door, your eyes are heavy with sleep and the man can’t help but stare at the love bites littering your neck.

“Hey, missed me?”

Your eyes widen and you instinctively open the door wider.

“Chifuyu.”

༉‧₊˚. interested in commissioning me? if not, leave a ko-fi!

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