#my kitchen and bathroom have been cleaned and my laundry is in the wash

[rise-of-the-zombicorns]

.

[bibleofficial]

compulsively bought a pair of vintage old-fashioned glasses that are a bit rounded so i can ALSO aesthetically use them for wine

[syddsatyrn]

Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️

Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.

⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff

⛧Words: 2.5k

⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.

The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.

You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 

After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.

You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 

 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.

She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.

“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  

You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 

"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."

“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.

"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.

"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”

Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.

"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.

"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.

"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 

[luveline]

reader getting really stressed out about being pregnant for the first time and so hotch just makes her sit down and he totally pampers her for the day?? idk u asked for hotch reqs and this is just the first thing i squeezed out my brain

thank you for requesting <3 fem, 1.2k

There are many things that come with being pregnant. Joy, for sure, but hardship and doubt overwhelmingly. You’re always treating an ailment you didn’t expect to have or worrying that things won’t be ready —that you won’t be ready. 

You’ve developed a bad habit. You can’t stop picking at your hands. Your skin is drier since you’ve been pregnant and the further along you get, the worse it becomes. You scratch at a dry patch between your fingers, wince when it hurts, but continue until there’s no dry skin left to pick, just raw soreness. It’s the first time you’ve made yourself bleed. 

“Are you doing it again?” Aaron asks from the hallway.

You drop your guilty hands down and turn away from his approach. “No, I’m not.” 

“You are, aren’t you?” he asks, a smile in his voice. His hand is warm where he takes your shoulder, turning you to face him. “Show me.” 

“No.” 

“Show me,” he says again, not asking. 

You were supposed to be doing the dishes, but you’d noticed your baby bump was getting in the way, which was oddly beautiful for a few seconds, but was quickly just another imposition in a day full of small annoyances. It is never going to get any easier, your stomach will continue to grow as the baby grows and your body accommodates her, and when you do have her you’ll have to find a way to wash dishes with her held to your chest or on your hip. And it’s lovely, it’s what you signed up for, you can’t wait to be a mom and love your baby, but that’s a big change, too. 

Now you're tail-spin panicking about your life and your hands take the brunt of it. Aaron can’t stop you, but he always tries. 

“I can’t understand why you do this,” he says, parting your fingers gently to assess the damage, “it must hurt. Can you stop?” 

He asks with a mixture of humour and fondness, his eyes on yours and a small smile playing on his lips to encourage a better mood. You don’t have much to give, but you smile back. 

“I know I shouldn’t pick it,” you say. 

“But it’s hard to stop,” he surmises, bringing your hand to his mouth for a soft peck against the back of it, far from your broken skin. 

“I’m just worried.” 

“Oh, I know,” he says, pulling at your hand as he takes your hip in his other and drags you into him. Your bump immediately blocks the way, but bodies are soft, and he keeps on pulling until you’re squished together. 

He smells like something particular. Not cologne or deodorant, not soap or laundry detergent. You can’t put your finger on the scent, your cheek pressed against his shoulder and your nose to his neck, thinking. It’s a sugary smell, but it’s cloying, too, like you’d touch the smell and have a residue on your fingers.

“I changed the air freshener in the bathroom,” he says quietly, his face turned down to yours. 

You don’t bother asking how he knows what you’d been thinking. He’s your mind reader. 

“It was making me feel sick,” you say unnecessarily. 

“I know. Let’s go sit down, my girl.” 

My girl, you think, not sure if you should roll your eyes or hug him tighter. 

You let him lead you from the kitchen to the living room, where he helps you down onto the nice couch, much too nice for babies. You can’t imagine it will stay very clean, but perhaps you’re being cynical. Still, you lean back against the cushions and rub your cheek into clean leather. 

Aaron takes the faux rabbit fur throw from the armrest and shakes it out over you with care, tucking it under your legs, and kissing your cheek as he secures it behind your back. All tucked in, he holds your hands together atop the blanket to encourage you to feel the texture. It’s a good distraction from picking at your hands, which he knows. Aaron knows everything. 

“What do we need?” he asks. “A drink? Dinner’s easy tonight, I’ve promised Jack we’ll make lasagne. Does that sound good to you?” 

You’re honestly not sure. You're quiet for a moment too long. “Sorry,” you frown. 

“I can make you anything you want. It doesn’t bother me.” 

“I feel a little like I’m acting over the top about this.” You’re pregnant. Millions and millions and millions of women have been pregnant. 

“About what?” he asks, sitting beside you on the couch, your blanket untucking under his legs. “Being tired? You can’t decide.” 

“About everything, I guess.” 

“Well, when you figure out what it is that’s making this,” —he puts a hand to your belly— “over the top, you can let me know.” 

You lift your chin. He kisses you soundly. 

It’s nice to be loved like this. 

“What’s up with my baby?” he asks, giving your stomach a soft rub. “Is she moving today?” 

You lean back and he understands that to mean he should feel lower, where you can feel the baby’s weight more clearly. “Not much moving. She gave me a good kick earlier.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I think so.” 

He feels along the bottom of your stomach politely. It’s a little funny, the baby wouldn’t exist without him being rather less polite, but it’s also lovely. You can trust him to be a great father because he’s already an adoring husband. If he treats you with a never ending supply of tender caring and soft touches, it’s easy to picture how he’ll treat your girl. You’ve never once doubted him, and he’s never hurt you. You don’t think he could. 

“There?” he asks, putting his hand to the right side of the bump. 

You can’t be totally certain, but you’re sure he’s right. “Right there, handsome.” 

Things are far less stressful to think of when he’s near. He reminds you in something as small as a thumb to your belly that everything will be taken care of. You’re not half as alone as you feel, and neither is your baby. Aaron can do the dishes while you’re unable. He’d do them even if your only reason was that you didn’t want to. 

“Hello,” he says, charmed, eyes glowing with excitement as you encourage your shirt up over your stomach for a better view. Aaron places his hand to your naked skin, palm hot. “I love you.” 

He has to tap you under the chin for you to know who it is he’s talking to. “I love you, too,” you say quickly. 

He smiles, before his attention falls completely to your stomach once again. “And you, sweetheart. I love you. Can you say hello?” 

He has to talk for a while, but eventually your baby moves. 

Your shoulders relax. You close your eyes and let him murmur to you both, peaceful for a desperately needed half an hour.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Since I already have established myself as a little pickle freak with no shame I have another extremely embarrassing story that will probably make you laugh.

When I started dating Brendan he was still living at home, but after we'd been dating a while he and his best friend Charlie decided to move in together. Another friend of theirs was looking for roommates and they decided to go for it. It was the lower level of a house.

Here's where I need to set the stage a little. Looking back on the time I spent in that space, I don't actually even know if it could have been nice under other circumstances. I feel almost pity for that house, full of young disgusting boys. Bare and wretched, it had minimal threadbare furniture, no decorations, and the guy who lived there already was hands down the most disgusting person I've ever met.

Not his character, but his habits. This boy's name was Josh. I genuinely don't know if their moving in with Josh was a handshake deal or if they saw the place beforehand. No sane person would ever have chosen to live there otherwise, I feel certain.

There was a kitchen. Sorta. But like. Was there a kitchen? Every counter, the whole sink, everything was just covered in dirty dishes. Brendan and Charlie said, "Josh, you need to do the dishes, we can't even wash anything cause it's so full of dirty dishes."

Josh's response to being asked to clean was to load all the dirty dishes onto a blanket. And then he dragged that blanket down the hall into the laundry room.

Crusted on residue, molding slimes, and horrible odors arose as he moved the blanket. After two months they said, "Josh, you can't just leave your dirty dishes on a blanket in the laundry room."

Josh's response was to drag the blanket of misery and miasmas into his room instead.

Josh didn't shower very much and he was a big guy. At one point I walked past his door when it opened. His girlfriend was crossing to the bathroom and I almost dry heaved directly in front of her. The smell of rotting foot, dried on sweat, and sex musk swirled together into the most eye watering assault my nose had ever faced.

So that's where our story takes place. A home of no hand towels, no soap by the bathroom sink, a blanket covered in months of early-twenties depression dishes.

I was meeting some of these people for the first time on the night of our story. Josh had a crew of two others guys who just hung around constantly. So it's me and five dudes hanging out, chatting, ignoring the various smell scapes to live in the moment. Josh left briefly to go pee.

Then I felt a stabbing in my guts. I shot a panicked look to Brendan and casually said I had to pee too. At that time in my life I was experiencing some of the most god awful IBS I've ever experienced. I knew I was going to make a crime scene in there. To my dismay there was no fan to turn on. But Brendan, like the champion partner he was, started telling a story at extremely high volume to cover the sound of my anus exploding under the force of my anxiety poops.

When I flushed and turned to the sink, I was dismayed. There was no soap. I looked around the bare bathroom and didn't see anything useful. No one had ever wanted to wash their hands here before. I then looked over the tub and spotted a tiny window that I wasn't tall enough to open. I wanted to let out the truly rank and terrible smell I had filled the bathroom with, but I had to give that up as impossible.

I slipped out and quietly said, "Hey, is there dish soap or something to wash my hands?"

"Oh," said one of Josh's friends, "There's a bar of soap by the window, let me grab it for you." This was not unreasonable, because again, I couldn't reach the window but I was doused in fear at the ridicule I was about to face.

He went to the door of the bathroom and literally staggered back from the unholy smell I'd left there. He had his arms up as if to protect his face from the malevolent beast my bowels had left behind. When he turned to us there was tears standing in his eyes.

In this house of awful smells and terrible hygiene, I was the stinkiest monster of all, bringing this boy to tears. I broke out in a sweat, ready to cry myself at the shame that was about to be cast upon me.

But instead. He said, "JOSH!"

"I can't believe you dude! Oh my god! That is the nastiest shit I've ever smelled!!" He waved the door frantically to dilute the awful power of my shit and then plowed through to open the window and air out the bathroom, passing me the soap. "I can't BELIEVE you had to go in there after him, oh my god, use the kitchen sink to wash your hands! It's gnarly!"

Everyone turned to rag on Josh for the newest addition to the gallery of smells in the house and he didn't look at me once. He laughed and pulled my shame onto his shoulders with grace, taking the bullet for me like a true hero. Only Brendan and I knew I was the stinky villain.

Josh never brought it up after, but I remain grateful to this day.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Secret III

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You're a bit messy

When Mapi takes you out to the park, she doesn't expect it to rain.

But it does.

It rains and rains and rains until she's shivering in the cold and wet as you very determinedly stamp around in the mud by the bank of the lake.

"Be careful!" Mapi calls after you and you stick your tongue out at her.

It was a stupid idea to be caught without an umbrella and without a coat but this was Barcelona and she really wasn't expecting it.

"Come on!" She winces as you sink lower into the mud, ruining the new Sambas she had specifically bought for you.

"But Mami-"

"No, Skatt," Mapi says, covering her horror with a little laugh," Let's go home now."

You huff in annoyance, dipping down once more into the mud before running to her side, hands firmly in your pockets as you drag your muddy feet all the way back to Mapi's nice, clean car.

"Oh!" Ingrid exclaims when you come running into the house about twenty minutes later," You look all messy, Skatt! Did you have fun!"

You push a strand of wet hair out of your face as you grin. "Uh-huh."

You hurry off into the bathroom, leaving a trail of muddy footprints after you.

"She's ruined them," Mapi laments.

"Well," Ingrid replies, pursing her lips," Seeing as the last four pairs of the same shoes ended up the same way, you can't be surprised Mapi."

"Yes I can! I thought it would be different!"

Ingrid shakes her head fondly, pushing out from the kitchen table. "I told you," She says," Skatt doesn't need fancy shoes. You need to start putting her in her wellies even when you don't think it'll rain. Save the fancy shoes for dinners and birthday parties."

Mapi pouts, scuffing her own Sambas on the hard wood flooring. "I just wanted us to match."

"I know."

And Ingrid does know. You look like her, overwhelmingly so. It makes sense obviously but you're truly like her mini and sometimes Mapi's been called things like your auntie or babysitter by strangers and Ingrid knows Mapi hates it.

"But you can match for fancy events," Ingrid continues," It's not worth it ruining another set of shoes because Skatt decided to go digging again."

The bath starts running and Mapi smiles wryly.

"At least she knows it's bath time when she gets muddy."

"Yes," Ingrid says fondly," We've trained her well." She leans towards the bathroom. "Skatt! Are you getting undressed?"

"Yes, Mama!"

"Do you want to wash her up or should I?"

"You can," Mapi says," I'll grab her a change of clothes. You might need to do her hair. It wasn't tied up properly."

"Got it."

When Ingrid enters the bathroom, she's thrown. There's a remarkably lifelike frog toy kicking around in the water. She's never seen it before but she knows Mapi stopped off at the shops before the park and your interest in frogs is almost as high as your interest in bugs so Ingrid supposes you had convinced Mapi to buy it for you.

She lathers up your hair with shampoo after cleaning your body and you hum happily.

"Did you see a lot of bugs on your trip today?"

"Uh-hu! Saw dragonfly and gnats and flies and bumblebees-"

The power on the toy is really going strong, Ingrid notes, because it keeps swimming in circles and she has to wonder what store Mapi bought it at because it's unlike any other bath toy Ingrid's ever seen before.

"-And wasps and Mami had to run away after seeing it because she was scared it was going to string her."

"That's nice, Skatt." Ingrid rinses out your hair, pulls out the plug of the bath and moves to the living room to start towel drying your hair.

Mapi goes to grab your dirty clothes and throw them in the laundry.

That's when it croaks at her.

That's also when she screams.

A frog stares back at her, perched on the taps.

It stares.

Mapi screams again.

"Mapi?!" Ingrid bursts into the room," What is it? Are you hurt?!"

"What is that?!" Mapi points a shaking finger at the creature and you, still wrapped up in your towel, poke your head around the door.

"My frog!"

"What?!" Mapi and Ingrid both demand, whirling around to look at you.

"My frog!" You repeat," Found him in the park. He was sad so I brought him home!"

Ingrid massages her temples and Mapi shrieks again when she sees the frog hop into the now empty bathtub.

"We can't keep the frog."

You grown. "Why not? We kept my millipede."

Ingrid goes pale. "What millipede?"

"The millipede in my terrarium." You point your own finger at Mapi. "The one Mami bought for me."

"She what?!"

"Ingrid...I can explain!"

[millaaster]

How They Treat You During Periods - Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (Separate)

Summary: How some of the JJK men react to and treat you during periods!

Words: 1051

CW: SFW; Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Crack; Periods; Blood mentions.

AN: this a complex topic because everybody who menstruates has a different organism and a different dynamic, so this is very based on my own experiences, but i tried thinking about situations that could include more people ok :')

Please, do not repost or translate.

GOJO SATORU - More chill than you thought he would be. The first time you talked about it was when you had cramps during a date and tried to talk him out of doing anything.

He just came right out "Hey, there's nothing to be shy about! I'm just definitely not letting my woman suffer in front of me just to save face!" 

He sits you down, holds you close and asks if you're ok. "If you don't have medicine on you, we can stop by a store to get it while heading to your place". Escorts you home, makes you tea and tucks you in to nap. 

After you've been together long enough he's started getting real good at tracking your cycles and adjusting whatever plans you have. "Hm... honey, I've been thinking of taking some days off and heading to the beach, but next week would be no good for you right? Should we wait a little?" 

He stuffs you in candy and treats if you're feeling down (sure he'll snatch some of those...). 

One day you get a message from him:

"Babe SOS   Do we have any first aid home?  My nose is kinda bleeding...hehe"

"Toru!! You ok??  There should be some cotton balls in the bathroom" 

When you get home you find him with a whole ass tampon stuck up his nostril...."Satoru!!! What the hell are you doing?!?"

"Oh hey, honey! Sorry, couldn't find the cotton balls but figured this was even better and it DOES work wonders!", he tells you with a proud grin on his face... 

GETO SUGURU - Suguru may seem a little indifferent, but it's just that he doesn't want to step over your independence. He's trying not to overdo things and will only act after you actively ask for something.

That being said, if that's what you want, he's an expert in doing your chores and cleaning the house for you. 

He was once doing the laundry and you caught him staring at your sheets.

"Something wron-" you gasp, realizing there's a big blotch of blood in it.

"Babe! You don't have to wash this one!" you cry, feeling your face burn red.

"What are you talking about? I was just trying to remember how to take off blood stains", lifting it out of your reach as you try to grab it. "Was it vinegar or lemon..." he mumbles, walking over to your kitchen cabinets. 

He secretly enjoys that you get mellower and needy with him. You won't have to ask twice if you demand an extra tight hug. 

Loves aromatherapy and gave you a whole kit with a diffuser and oils that ease pain and help with relaxation. If you don't use it he'll pout and nag non stop until you turn it on. "Suuuguu...you're giving me more headaches than my uterus right now dear..." "If you had it on from the start there would be no ache whatsoever, dummy!" 

He's now GREAT with massages. You've always complained about how your back and thighs ache when you're menstruated, so he took some lessons to help you out with that. 

NANAMI KENTO - With Nanami it's princess treatment all the way! This man thinks it's freaking amazing how you'll have to deal with this for so long in your life, through work and everything, and that you're badass for that. I mean, you're literally bleeding!!! That's concerning enough to happen to someone he loves. 

So he'll put all the effort he can to minimize any discomfort you have on those days. As soon as it became a regular thing for you to stay over at his place, he purchased all sorts of tea, heat pads and asked you to tell him what pads or tampons he should buy to stock some. 

He loves to have dates at home, so it's a win-win situation when you stay in; he cooks you something warm and lays around with you all day. "Is this position all right love?" While rubbing gently your stomach. 

He also loves to give you useful gifts, so once he even went as far as to surprise you with a new care kit from a high end brand in a box full of products to pamper you. 

The best to have around if you're out too. Never gets bothered if you have to go to the restroom too often and makes sure the place you're attending has good access to those. 

ITADORI YUJI - Freaks out a little when you tell him you don't feel like going on a date because you're on your period. He forgot such things were a very real thing if he was dating you. Has the mindset that, as his S/O, your period is his period too!! 

You're totally lost for words when he first tells you that.....he just means he feels responsible for your well being throughout this time. 

Definitely asks Nobara for help on how to help you feel better. 

He's a really active guy and always wants you to tag along and spend time with him, so he researched a lot about exercises that'll be better to practice during that time. 

At some point in your relationship will text you:

"yo babe, I'm at the pads aisle what's your pussy size??" 

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI - Also chill about it. An absolute angel when it comes to being patient to you, who turns into a SAINT if you're on your period. 

He just knows that there are better times to deal with any stressful matters than now, so it's only love with this guy for a few days. 

He prefers to talk to you in person instead of texting, but if you mention being on your period, you'll get the sweetest messages all day long popping up on your phone to check out how you're doing.

"Love, did you eat well?" "Hey, do you need anything?" "Sunshine, hope you're having a good day"  “Never forget you’re amazing”

Secretly, has also consulted Nobara and his sister to get some tips on what he could do.

Gets his dogs to cuddle with you in bed, to keep your belly warm, if he's busy around the house. 

He has a playlist with hours and hours of comfort movies you watch together when you don't want to leave the sofa/bed. He even watches your favorite shoujo with you if you ask!

A/N: also, yes, I do think Gojo and Geto being good parents (to Tsukimi, Mimiko and Nanako) have helped them learn about periods.

Interactions are always appreciated ☆* have a lovely day!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

You know, all I want is to spend some time with Nikto on his off-days and have him read Dostoyevski to me, if you don't want to make this like a single fic you can maybe incorporate it into "ravishing allure" some time later 🥹

"…and there can be no love otherwise."

PAIRINGS: Nikto x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: If anyone could make the bad days better, it was Nikto.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: Stress from work/life, lack of sleep, mostly fluff, comfort, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There were times you wondered if putting up with your job was really worth it. Sure, you needed the money to pay rent, food, and bills, among a laundry list of others that just seemed to never end, but was the cost of your sleep the metaphorical soul you had to hand over? 

Every day you came home tired to your little apartment—neighbors loud and the light in the bathroom flickering because the electrician had never shown up to fix it. Tired, but unable to fall asleep until everything else was done. So, you’d make dinner, clean, shower, sit down to mindlessly watch a show on TV for half an hour, and then stumble into bed. 

Only to stay awake and stare at the ceiling. 

You can’t say why you do it, thinking over the things you did wrong and the awkward conversations you have with coworkers; you shouldn’t care about it—really, you shouldn't. Yet you can’t stop your brain from slipping like a slide to every instance, every millisecond where you felt the air of the interaction change. Side-eyes and confused looks. 

And then at six o’clock, you’d drag yourself out of bed with bags on your face and a drained expression to do it all over again. 

“Hi, how can I help you today?” 

“Oh, of course, we have some in the back—I’ll go grab it for you.”

“Thank you! You have a good day now, Sir. Come back soon.”

It just felt fake. Greet, help, take money, wave and smile, repeat, repeat, repeat. But maybe today would be slightly different, by the second pair of shoes that were placed in your apartment entry as you slowly opened the front door. 

Boots—black and set an equal distance apart with a cleaned surface despite the places they’d been and what they’d probably stepped through. They were neatly situated under the small bench you had for convenience, and you blink at them as you softly shut the door and lock it. A large, and matching in color, jacket was folded and placed atop the flat surface—keys sitting in an indent. 

Nikto, ever the neat and tidy one. He must be back then. 

While the two of you didn’t live together, the bear of a man had made a habit of coming over when he returned from deployments with KorTac—you’d given him a key the second year you’d been together. 

Your ears faintly twitch to the sound of cooking, nose moving just a second later to the scent of something on the stove. Clinking pans and silent footsteps. He knew you were here, sure as anything. Weakly sighing, you shift out of your jacket and shoes; tossing them in the general direction of the bench as you rub at your eyes and drop your purse to the floor with a slap of canvas. 

How do you explain looking like shit? 

Shuffling into the kitchen, you undo some of the buttons on your blouse to let yourself breathe, dress pants running along the carpet as your feet pad like a hound’s slapping paws. Vision blurry and eyelids threatening to close on you, you find the tall man in front of the stove, moving something in a pan with sizzling oils with the wide flex of his shoulders.

On another burner, there’s a large pot of simmering water—the counter has already been cleaned up of flour and mess, a tidy pile of dirty items sitting in the sink to be washed. You stare for a second before you grumble a hello, forcing your body to sag into his back as you walk over and slap your forehead into his spine. 

Nikto grunts lowly in response and continues what he’s doing. 

While it wasn’t rare to find him in the kitchen—in fact, you prefer it when he cooks—but usually when he got back you opted to order supper. He always insisted, gruffly, that he wasn’t tired, but you just wanted him to relax.

It was fun to baby him. 

“Didn’t know you were going to be back today,” you whisper into him, arms hanging by your sides. 

“We were released early,” his voice is deep and harsh—a bark of his Russian accent and rasp. Every word is thought out and said with purpose. “Conflict in schedule.”

You hum lowly, and it’s immediately after that Nikto stiffens, back going straighter. It’s the fact that you don’t even notice that you’ve completely screwed up your own routine that tips him off; how your change in pace had made him initially suspicious as he’d heard you enter the apartment. 

You hadn't commented on his eyes. Hadn’t tried to get him to turn around to see them. 

There was a running gag that Nikto tolerated—you’d grab him carefully by the chin and tilt his blank eyes to you in all of their icy glory. Sparks of glass and chilled storms inlay near the pupils. You’d stare, smile, and then say, “Yup, he’s still in there.” 

Even if you couldn’t see it under his balaclava, Nikto’s lips would part and he’d study your face for a minute in silence, before lightly bonking his forehead to yours. A strange and unique kiss that only he could perfect in his intimidating way. 

You hadn’t even attempted that. 

Nikto puts down the fork he was using to push around the fried potatoes and mushrooms; Pelmeni still simmering in the pot for another five minutes. The cut-up dill and melted butter on the counter are pushed from his mind with a purpose in his veins.

“What is wrong with you?” Nikto turns and you stifle a fatigued snort as you look up at him. It wasn’t his fault, of course. English isn’t his first language, and you found his broken, or sometimes bare-bones blunt, sentences to be endearing.

“Such a way with words, hm?” You can’t help but tease, and you can see the annoyed furrow of his brown brows, nose huffing a breath. “Just tired, Nikto.” Your words make his gaze slide along the very visible bags and the red veins of your eyes. 

He mutters something in Russian under his breath, lids narrowing on you as he grasps your shoulders and moves you back so he can look you up and down slowly in a near clinical breakdown of atoms. As if he can peel back clothes and splay nerves to light. 

“You look horrible…Sickly.” You can see the brain working as your lips go into a line to stay off your loud laugh. “Like dead woman walking.”

He was so much better with actions than words, this beast of wide shoulders and shifting thighs that could crush your bones to dust in an instant. You liked that about him—you never had to guess when he was being genuine or not.

“Work’s been rough,” you chuckle lowly, sliding on a fake smile that doesn’t fool him for a second. “Nothing I can’t…figure out, okay? Thanks for making supper, I love when you cook.”

Nikto’s eyes soften just a smidge, his hands holding your flesh just the littlest bit tighter. His expansive chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh, the bulk of his stomach and pecs visible under the tucked black t-shirt and his spare cargo pants.

Without a word, you’re being lifted with little more than a huff of, “моя нежная девочка… keep awake.”

You squeak as you’re settled onto his shoulder, hanging off like a sack of grain as his arm wraps over the top of your tailbone—large other hand on your thigh and fingers firmly grasping your skin. 

“Nikto—!”

“Hush,” he grunts, a bark of a chuckle wafting out as your hand playfully hits his back with a pathetic slap. The man raises a brow, smirking under his face covering. “What do you expect to do with that, girl?” 

“To let you know,” you poke at his spine and he shifts your farther down his shoulder in retaliation as you scramble and grasp at his shirt; giggling as your head sways to his steps. “That I won't go quietly!” 

“Good to know,” he grumbles. “I would want nothing less, eh?” 

His hands make sure that you don’t fall, even if you were to start wiggling or slipping.

You go limp and let him carry you into the living room, face burning with appreciation as your limbs let themselves rest. Nikto slings you back over his shoulder and drops you to the couch as you laugh, head purposely hitting the pillow as your chest rises and falls with breaths. 

The man stares down at you as you chuckle in gasps, always one to stare at any chance he gets. His arms crossed at his chest, feet apart, and shadow slipping over you from the overhead light. You gaze up silently, a smile on your lips, and quizzically raise to your brow.

“Stay,” is what he says to you, icy vision sliding down your body with a hum of approval. He sends a teasing slap to your thigh before striding back into the kitchen, narrowly missing your leg kicking out at his arse. 

Nikto scoffs at your attempt and disappears.

Normally you’d run at him and jump on his back, hanging off like an animal, but being as fatigued as you are, you call a mumbled curse at his name and curl sideways. Your face nuzzles into the pillow, smiling lightly before you let your eyes momentarily close.

You must have taken a quick nap because it seemed not even a second later that you were being shaken awake by a hand on your arm; spreading up to run over your cheek as your lashes flutter. “Милая.” You sigh, vision blurry and your head pounding. A strong scent hits your nose and you perk—rubbing at your eyes and face. “Eat.”

A plate of fried potatoes with mushrooms and another bowl of Pelmeni are on the coffee table, and the former is shoved into your face by a strong hand, the small dumplings topped with melted butter and dill. 

“Pelmeni,” Nikto states in a monotone, blinking at you as if you don’t know his own culture’s food by now. He made them often enough, which was why you liked him so much—food was truly the way to your love.

You’d taken up baking some of Nikto’s favorite desserts once, had failed horribly, and left most of the kitchen work to him—but the funny thing was that whenever you did bake, the man still always cleaned his plate. You’d never seen him turn down your food, even when you could see his eyes scrunch with restrained aversion.

“Да,” he would grunt out, “good.” It was so strained you always laughed so hard your lungs hurt after. On the off-hand, Nikto’s skills in the kitchen were enough to get you to sell your car for just another bite. 

Sitting up, you carefully take the bowl and look up at him, smiling deeply. 

“Thank you, Nik.” The man hums and turns his head away, still unused to outright affection even two years in. “Nikto~” you draw out his name, tilting your head to the side and trying to catch his gaze again. 

“Silence, woman,” he growls with no real heat, huffing before carefully placing his forehead to yours again as you expected him to. You giggle and stare into his eyes smugly. 

You knew what he was waiting for. Your blood runs hot, face going into a picture of care. His blues blink at you as snowflakes mingle with mist; a mix of cold and desolate landscapes that offer no reprieve from harm besides the small glint of fire they gain when they lock with yours. 

“Yup,” you whisper, and Nikto’s shoulders loosen as he presses more deeply into your skin. “He’s still in there.” 

He stares intensely, and the faintest of twitches under his balaclava tell you all you need to know. 

Nikto makes sure you eat your fill and when you’re done he takes the dishes and washes them while you shower and get into pajamas. Sluggish, but warmed by a full stomach and your boyfriend’s care. You come out to find he’s already reclining on the couch, book in hand as the other bends behind his neck. Lights were low and the heat turned up. Nikto opens his side to you and your body snuggles next to him—it had taken a long time to earn his trust like this; to be near him and to freely give affection.

It would be longer still until you saw his face, but you can live with that. There was no rush, and you knew it was a large soft spot even if he’d never shared the details as to why.

You sigh deeply and Nikto grunts, moving his arm behind your back and keeping you to his chest as he reads. 

This is a common sight from him, and he begins reading to you in his mother tongue from the works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the grit and gravel of his voice sliding into words and sensations as you practically feel it coming from his chest and throat. Your head situates itself under his chin, feeling his free hand playing with your hair until you go brain-dead except to the way he feels and sounds. Harsh words had never been more gentle.

Halfway through he switches to English, his sentences now more slow and thought out and your lashes flutter; breath soft as you take in his scent of oakmoss and amber. His heart beats steady and true. 

“‘To love is to suffer,’” he reads, fingers rubbing circles into your clothes and letting you sleep as the day grows faster into a cold night. He glances down with easy eyes, gripping you just a bit closer as your body entirely goes limp in his embrace. “‘...And there can be no love otherwise.’” 

He silences himself and watches for a moment before he closes the book, dropping it silently to the coffee table and staring past you at the ceiling. The man feels your warmth bleed into his scarred and damaged skin and whispers something akin to vindication.

Nikto listens to your steady breathing and holds you. Steady. Noiseless. 

He grunts to himself and only presses you closer.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |4: One of the Good Ones|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.9k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series Installment List & Summary

a/n: Just a smidge of angst in this one! And I've already got a rough draft written for the next part, too! This story has been stuck in my head... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza

Your arm burned from the effort with which you were currently scrubbing your kitchen counter, working hard trying to remove a stubborn stain with the sponge in your hand. On the counter just behind you, your phone was playing music as you stress-cleaned. Truthfully you were too caught up in your thoughts as you'd been frantically jumping from one task to the next to have been paying much attention to what song was currently playing, though.

You'd already vigorously deep cleaned your bathroom, scrubbing your shower hard enough to make your fingers ache. Once you'd finished in there, you'd ended up in your bedroom, finally folding the laundry basket of clothes that had been sitting in the corner of your room all week. After that, you'd changed your bedsheets before bringing the dirty ones down to the laundry facility in your building to be washed. Upon returning to your apartment, you'd begun meticulously organizing your kitchen pantry before cleaning out the kitchen sink of dirty dishes. And then you'd landed on scrubbing your counters with every intention of cleaning off your stove top next.

You'd been cleaning like crazy after you'd come home from work tonight and finished dinner because you'd had a shitty day–though really it had been a shitty week. Everything had gone absolutely wrong at the office and you'd somehow managed to make a massive mistake on a big project the other day. Thankfully today you'd corrected the error, but your anxiety over the issue hadn't remotely disappeared. And of course, Eric, the most obnoxious and irritating co-worker at your workplace, had been at the top of his game of being an absolute asshole to you about the issue all week, too. You'd admittedly had far too many daydreams of throwing your coffee on him just to shut him up these past few days.

But as if that hadn't been enough, you'd found yourself becoming increasingly upset over the realization of your growing feelings for the Devil, who you hadn't actually seen since he'd appeared injured at your place just over a week ago. You were torn between believing his absence was either because he'd been recovering from his injury–which would also explain his absence in the news lately–or that he had zero interest in continuing whatever friendship you thought you'd both been developing. And because you'd gotten your period earlier today, you'd been hormonal all week. Which meant your brain had been telling you it was because of the latter reason.

But you didn't want to think about that. It was ridiculous to have a stupid crush on him. You didn't even know the man's name or what he looked like beneath the mask. You had no clue what he did for a living, if anything at all. And you'd only seen him three times now, it's not like you'd known him for months. It was quite likely he didn't feel the same despite the flirting he'd been doing. 

So that was what your brain continued to tell you this week whenever you got upset about his lack of appearances on your fire escape. That those visits hadn’t meant anything to him. You were just another person in the city he protected. His first visit had been accidental after all. And the second time was just to return the scarf he'd borrowed. The last time he had appeared had been because you'd been a convenient safe place for him to briefly stop and recover at when he'd been hurt, nothing more. 

Though trying to repeatedly rationalize that didn't make the ache in your chest disappear. It didn't stop you coming home every night from work hoping to have another surprise visit from the mysterious vigilante before you went to bed. And it certainly didn't stop you from shedding a few pathetic tears when he continued to remain absent each night. 

You'd begun to miss him. It was impossible to deny that now. And you'd worried about how he was doing with his injury, wondering if he really was alright. Which only had you wondering more about what he was capable of if he could meditate like that because–

“It's a bit early for spring cleaning, isn't it?”

Your hand abruptly paused mid-aggressive scrub of the stain that had long since been cleaned at the sound of the familiar and unexpected voice cutting through your thoughts. Eyes growing wide, you spun on your bare feet to find the Devil standing on the other side of your kitchen counter with a grin on his lips beneath that black mask.

“It's only February,” he teased. “Spring is still another few weeks away. Maybe show your counter a little mercy before you wear a hole in it.”

Hand gripping the soapy sponge tighter, you felt your heart nearly fly up into your throat in excitement. Because he'd come back . 

“You're here,” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he replied. He gestured a gloved hand back towards the window behind himself. “You left that unlocked, so I may have just invited myself inside since you didn't seem to respond to my knocking. I hope you don't mind.”

You shook your head quickly, still surprised to see he'd actually returned. It felt like someone had loosed a multitude of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of him standing there so casually in your apartment once again. It was something you'd missed all week.

“No, that's alright,” you told him, shaking your head. “I don't mind.”

“You should really keep it locked though,” he stated. “Literally anyone could just climb in here. That's not exactly safe.”

Still trying to shake off the surprise of his visit as you took a step forward, turning off your music, a nervous laugh slipped out of you. “I think you're the only one crazy enough to climb all the way up that rickety fire escape,” you replied.

You turned, heading over towards your kitchen sink in the hopes of busying yourself with washing your hands so he wouldn't see the embarrassing grin steadily growing on your face. 

“I think you might be surprised with what the criminals will do in this city,” he countered.

“Well that's…unsettling,” you muttered, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on the nearby kitchen towel. “With the way my week has been going though I suppose it would be my luck that someone probably would climb through my window. Someone other than you, I mean.”

You set the towel back on the hook near your sink, turning around only to find the Devil had stepped around the counter and into your kitchen. He was standing a few feet away, his head tilted curiously to the side. How the hell did he always manage to move so quietly?

“You're having a bad week?” he asked. “Is that why everything smells like lemon cleaner in here and why you were scrubbing your counter so hard you couldn’t hear me knocking on the window?”

Clasping your hands together in front of yourself, you fidgeted awkwardly with your fingers. Now that your hands weren't busy with an actual task you were feeling your anxious thoughts beginning to spiral again. Especially because it was only Thursday night and you still had to go into work tomorrow and deal with Eric and everyone else when all you desperately wanted to do was crawl into bed for the duration of the weekend and pretend this week never happened. 

“What's wrong, angel?” the Devil asked softly.

You glanced up at the sound of the name he’d called you just before he left your apartment last time, watching as he took another step towards you. You sniffled lightly, trying to ignore the confusing and conflicting feelings arising inside of you at the nickname. The smile disappeared from his lips, his mouth instead pulling a bit downwards at the corners. Swallowing hard, you waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Nothing, things are good,” you lied. “I'm fine.”

The frown visibly deepened on his face before he took another step closer. “Someone who's fine doesn't generally deep clean their place on a random Thursday evening,” he pointed out. “And it seems like you've been on the verge of tears for a bit now. What's going on?”

You swallowed hard, wondering how he could’ve possibly known that when he’d only just entered your apartment. Yet another one of his mysterious little powers, you figured.

“Nothing,” you answered. “Really, I’m good. I just got into a random cleaning frenzy. It happens.”

The Devil’s head canted further to the side, his lips thinning along his face. He shook his head slowly, taking another cautious step towards you.

“You’re not fine,” he replied. “And for the record, I know when someone is lying, angel.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted nervously at that name again. Surely it was meant to be more of a joke than a term of endearment considering you always called him Devil.

“Another useful skill of yours?” you asked curiously. “Like your ability to heal?”

Briefly a smirk slid over his mouth, one you caught just before it disappeared. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously back at him.

“Something like that,” he answered. “So believe me when I say that I’m not buying the line that you’re okay. What happened?”

Eyes darting down, your nails began to pick at your sweatshirt nervously. The memory of your boss chewing you out at work the other day resurfaced in your mind, quickly followed by one of Eric’s heartless comments to you afterwards. The continual disappointment of an empty fire escape night after night before you went to bed also reared its head, tears starting to sting at your eyes at the memory of those lonely nights. Blinking rapidly, you tried to stop the tears from coming.

You did not want to cry in front of the Devil.

“Nothing,” you muttered, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s all stupid in comparison to what you’re usually dealing with anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” he murmured, closing the remaining distance between you and gently grabbing your shoulders, lowering his masked face into your line of sight. “It’s not a competition.”

His light, reassuring touch only had the tears welling up faster in your eyes. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that. With comfort and care. A touch that made you feel both safe and seen. And here he was doing it with such ease, like you deserved that sort of attention–and from him no less. 

It suddenly became all too much. A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye as you gazed up at his face half-obscured by that mask, unable to blink it back before it made its way down your cheek. The Devil’s hands carefully began pulling you in towards himself barely a second later. Surprised at his response, your arms remained wrapped around yourself as his arms slowly encircled your shoulders.

He was hugging you. Comforting you.

Somehow that managed to open the floodgates to your emotions, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks hot and wet in a continuous stream that you couldn't seem to control. Your hands gripped your sweatshirt tighter, unsure if you should hug him in return or not. Instead, you pressed your face into the thin fabric of his black shirt, attempting to hide how fast the tears were flowing from his sight.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were even crying at this point, either. Was it because of the shitty week you’d had? Because of the gentle touch and compassion coming from the masked vigilante, a touch that you hadn’t felt since you'd last been in a relationship? Was it because of the fact that him holding you like this only stirred up those confusing feelings further inside of you, making you wonder what this weird relationship with the Devil actually was? Or was it just because you were hormonal and on your period?

“I'm sorry,” you choked out.

“Don't apologize,” he replied instantly.

The smokey voice he always used had your fingers twisting tighter around your sweatshirt, your heart beating a little harder at the sound of it so soft beside your ear. You shifted, burying your face further against his chest. Though guilt quickly filled you as you cried. Because he shouldn't be comforting you, not for something so foolish. Not when there were people out there who actually needed him and all you'd had was a bad week, some out of control hormones, and a stupid crush.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “Is there something I can do to help?”

You shook your head, begging the tears to stop falling. This was embarrassing. You didn't want him to see you like this, let alone be comforting you.

“No,” you whispered. 

You have better things to be doing with your time , you thought bitterly. I don't deserve the comfort.

Clenching your jaw, you took an abrupt step back from him. You raised an arm up, using the sleeve of your sweatshirt to aggressively wipe the dampness from your cheeks. Before you, the Devil stood with his arms still hovering in the air as if he was still holding you, seemingly confused about you withdrawing from his embrace so suddenly. There was a large wet spot from your tears soaking the front of his black shirt already.

“I'm sorry, that was embarrassing,” you muttered, still wiping at your eyes as the tears gradually slowed. “I know you don't want to be dealing with an emotional mess tonight. That's not what the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen does.”

“Who says it's not what I do?” he countered, his arms lowering back to his sides. “I'm here to help people who need it–and for the record,” he added, “crying does not make you an emotional mess. Trust me on that.”

“Well,” you began, sniffling a little, “my problems aren’t the type you can punch. And you can't exactly punch away my feelings. Or my hormones. So I think this is a little out of your usual wheelhouse.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, “but you've helped me plenty of times now. Is it wrong for me to want to return the favor?”

So that's why he was comforting you. A sort of quid pro quo. Tit for tat. An exchange of favors, not because he'd genuinely cared about what had happened to you this week and would have offered to help anyway, but because he felt like he owed you something in return. That's what he was saying, wasn’t it? 

“I don't help you because I want anything in return,” you muttered, turning around and wiping the sleeve of your sweatshirt across your eyes once again. Afterwards, you reached up into a nearby cabinet and grabbed a clean glass from out of it. “I help you because I worry about you out there. And because I think you're one of the good ones.”

You closed the cabinet door before focusing on the faucet in front of you, filling the glass with cool water. Sniffling softly, you felt the tears beginning to slow to a stop as you tried to collect yourself. You’d cry about your misplaced feelings later when he wasn’t here. Right now you just wanted to enjoy his company and not scare him off with your tears. And maybe make sure he was doing alright himself tonight.

Once the glass was full, you turned off the faucet and inhaled a trembling breath, attempting to steel your resolve. You were not going to cry anymore tonight. 

“For what it's worth,” the Devil said from behind you, “I think you're one of the good ones.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at his comment, your back still facing him. Now that sounded like a line.

“I’m serious,” he continued. “How many people would help a vigilante instead of turning him over to the police? And how many would just ignore him entirely? And here you are inviting me into your home multiple times now without question. Always offering whatever form of assistance you can when you certainly don't need to.”

Eyes dropping down to the full glass in your hands, you felt your heart flutter in your chest at his kind words. Clearing your throat, you tried to swallow the lump that had begun to form. “I think you vastly underestimate what you mean to the people in this city, Devil,” you whispered.

Gradually you turned back around, the glass of water clutched between both of your hands. His lips were once again pulled in a straight line across his face, his head faintly tilted to the side. 

“You're a symbol of hope to many in Hell’s Kitchen,” you said softly, extending the glass out towards him. “A sign that there’s still good in the world. That there are still people who care about helping those in need.”

You could see the muscles working in his cheeks, the corner of his lips twitching faintly. You wondered what expression he was making beneath the mask right now. Was he not aware of what he meant to this city?

“Here,” you said, holding the glass out further towards him. “Drink it. I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”

The Devil’s right hand flexed open and shut at his side for a moment, your eyes drawn to the movement. After a minute's hesitation you saw it raise, reaching out to carefully accept the glass of water from your own hand. He murmured a soft ‘thanks’ as he drew it up towards his lips. In silence you watched the bob of his throat as he drank almost half the glass immediately, a satisfied smile eventually landing on your face. 

“You hungry?” you asked, stepping around him and heading over to your fridge. “I have spaghetti leftover from dinner tonight. Unfortunately no garlic bread,” you grumbled, opening the door of your fridge. “Because my week was apparently so bad that I even forgot to grab garlic bread at the store.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he assured you.

Half bent in front of your fridge, you glanced over your shoulder, shooting him a flat look. “Are you planning to go home and eat something before you go to sleep tonight?” you asked him. “From the fridge you have apparently only stocked with beer, eggs, and sometimes orange juice?”

He hung his head in defeat, his gaze behind the mask appearing to drop to the floor. It looked like he was fighting back a grin on his face.

“Well…no,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Right,” you said, focus returning to the contents of your fridge. “So do you eat spaghetti? Because I have plenty.”

“If you’re that determined to feed me, yes,” he answered. “I do.”

Reaching into your fridge, you pulled out the container of leftovers that you’d put away earlier this evening before you’d begun meticulously stress cleaning. You closed the door, bringing the container over to your counter and setting it down before searching for a clean bowl and a fork.

“So how’s your rib doing?” you asked as you worked. “Did your doctor friend tell you it was broken? Have you somehow meditated it back to normal already with that useful ‘skill’ of yours?”

The Devil chuckled good-naturedly behind you as you began scooping some pasta into a bowl for him. Internally you thought it strange that he found that somehow funny, though that warmth of pleasure filled you at once again still being able to make him laugh.

“She's a nurse, not a doctor, and that's hard to say,” he answered. “I’d need an x-ray to know if I had actually broken it, and I can’t exactly go to a hospital because they’d surely call the authorities on me. But either way, it’s feeling better than that night I was last here. Not completely healed with my ‘skill,’ but the pain is…tolerable.”

You stopped mid-scoop of some pasta, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Quirking a brow at him, you shot him a quizzical look. 

“The pain is ‘tolerable’?” you asked him. “So you mean to tell me you’re still going around tonight scaling buildings and jumping off fire escapes with an injury that’s not even fully healed?”

The Devil shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, shooting you a charming smile. “Yeah,” he answered. “Something is almost always injured or hurting. But it's not like crime ever takes a night off. So usually neither do I.”

Sighing, you focused back on scooping pasta into the bowl for him. “I'm starting to worry about your sanity,” you half-joked. “You know, I've always wondered why you do what you do. I don't suppose you'd answer that truthfully, would you?”

Picking up the bowl, you stepped over towards your microwave and set it inside. Setting the timer to heat it up, you turned around and leant your back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him expectantly. 

The Devil shook his head, a faint smile on his mouth. “No, not right now,” he answered. “But maybe someday I could answer that for you.”

Hugging your arms tighter around yourself, you tried to hide the thrill that shot through you at his answer. The prospect of him continuing to visit you was clearly layered in his response and you couldn't even begin to explain how that made you suddenly feel.

“Always so mysterious,” you muttered nervously, glancing down at your feet.

“Don't suppose you'd ever give me your name, would you?” he countered.

You grinned, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as the microwave hummed behind you. “I'll tell you mine when you tell me yours, Devil,” you replied. 

“So mysterious ,” he teased back, grinning. 

You tried to bite back the smile growing on your face, laughing softly. The grin only grew wider on his face and your cheeks began to heat at the sight. You could feel your heart beating a little faster as you watched him from across the kitchen, taking in the handsome shape of his mouth and feeling the nervous churning of your stomach beginning to increase at the comfortable silence that fell over you both.

Thankfully your microwave beeped a moment later, pulling you from the moment that surely would have only resulted in you further ogling him, wondering what he looked like beneath the mask. Turning around, you opened the microwave and removed the bowl of spaghetti. You set it back onto the counter, mixing it around with a fork to make sure the entire bowl had been thoroughly heated. Satisfied that it was warm, you picked up the bowl and carried it over to the Devil. 

“You can have a seat at the table if you want,” you offered, holding the bowl out to him.

You gestured your other hand to the small circular table just outside of your kitchen. The Devil accepted the bowl of pasta from you, looking somewhat over his shoulder where you'd gestured. 

“Thank you,” he replied. 

You watched as he twirled a handful of noodles onto his fork immediately, bringing it up to his mouth before he'd even began to make his way towards your table. It was obvious he was hungry with the way he'd shoveled the bite into his mouth–just like when he'd devoured that burrito–and that satisfied smile returned to your face. Even if you'd messed up a lot of things this week, at least you'd managed to do something helpful for him. And that felt good.

You'd been about to turn around and put away the container of leftovers still sitting out on your counter when you saw him suddenly freeze, his entire body tensing. Your own body froze as you watched him chew the bite of food so slowly, your stomach sinking to the floor.

“What?” you asked cautiously, feeling self-conscious and on the verge of tears again. Had you actually somehow messed this up, too? “Is it…not good? I mean I know I'm not the best cook or anything, but I thought I was decent at making spaghetti sauce. It's not that complicated.”

The Devil swallowed the bite of spaghetti, his body still stiff as he stood there. His hand had tightened around the fork in the bowl as he remained silent, which only had your nerves growing. The feeling of being a failure once again this week was suddenly bearing down heavily on you. Was there nothing you could do right this week?

“Look, if it doesn't taste any good you don't need to eat it,” you told him, taking a step closer and reaching for the bowl. “Apparently I just can't manage anything this week. Just one of those weeks I gu–”

“This tastes exactly like the spaghetti my dad used to make,” the Devil whispered in disbelief.

Your hand hovered in the air reaching out for the bowl, your mouth hanging open at what he'd told you. That certainly hadn't been the reaction you'd expected. 

“Wh–what?” you stammered out.

The Devil pointed at the bowl of pasta with the fork in his hand, something like amazement creeping into his voice as he focused on you. When he spoke again, you'd noticed that raspy, deep voice he always used had disappeared.

“The sauce,” he told you, his words gradually picking up speed as he spoke. “It tastes exactly like the spaghetti sauce my dad used to make when I was a kid. I–I haven't tasted anything quite so similar since he passed when I was young. The likeness is incredible.”

You could feel the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest at yet another little piece of the real man beneath the mask being revealed to you. Mouth opening and closing a few times, you quickly realized you didn't know how to respond. Was he going to run away on you now that he'd let another little personal detail slip? Especially considering it looked like he was also realizing what he'd just told you and was beginning to regret it.

“I'm–I'm sorry to hear about your father,” you managed out.

The Devil continued to stare at you over the bowl of spaghetti in his hands, his lips pressing together as his mouth began to twitch. It was as if he didn't quite know what to say himself, but the longer he remained quiet, his jaw grinding back and forth, the more fearful you became that he was going to bolt back out of your window for accidentally revealing more personal information about himself to you. 

Slowly you held up your hands in front of yourself like one might do to a scared animal, hoping not to scare him further. The Devil didn't move, but his jaw visibly tensed at the gesture. 

“Look, I'm not about to tell anyone that you come here sometimes,” you told him. “And I don't go digging around on the internet trying to find out who you really are with the vague information I have, mostly because I don't have that level of motivation, if I'm being honest.” You saw the corner of his lips twitch upwards at your comment and you cautiously lowered your hands back to your sides. “I just want to help. That's all,” you continued. “And personally I worry that if I scare you off, you'll end up out there starving and with kidney damage from constantly not drinking enough water while you're out parkouring around the city.”

“You're worried about my kidneys now?” he asked, amusement in his tone. 

You shrugged lamely, shooting him a small smile. “If I say yes will you sit down and eat that spaghetti and drink some more water?” you questioned back. “Instead of jumping out of my window like a terrified cat?”

Something like an amused snort came from him as he turned, making his way towards your little kitchen table. You relaxed when you realized he wasn't going to disappear on you.

“For the record,” the Devil told you, voice muffled around a large bite of spaghetti that he'd shoveled into his mouth, “I am not a stray cat.”

“Of course not,” you agreed, picking up the glass of water he'd already finished and set onto the counter. You brought it over to your sink and began to refill it for him. “Because a cat would know better than to keep running around and making a broken rib worse. And I'm not sure how partial they are to spaghetti,” you joked. 

At the bright sound of his laughter over the sound of the running faucet, you found yourself smiling. You'd certainly missed having him here, even if you knew you were going to miss him the moment he finished that bowl of spaghetti and jumped back over your fire escape. All you could really do was enjoy the next few minutes you had with him and hope that he returned another time. 

Though deep down you sort of found yourself hoping he was more like a stray cat than he let on, because at the very least, maybe the prospect of food and water would tempt him to appear again at your window sooner rather than later. 

And that thought was steadily giving you an idea.

[onyourhyuck]

Dirty Laundry. | H.RJ

— Prologue: “Did you put your dirty laundry into my laundry pile by any chance?”

— Summary: Where your germaphobic clean freak roommate Renjun finds your panties in his laundry pile one day.

— Genre: Smut smut smut. Sex on top of the washing machine(?) dormitory roommates. Sex in like almost public setting. Exhibitism. Dom!renjun. Rough sex (kinda). Back scratching. Cum-play. Bigdick!Renjun agenda. Angry sex. Renjun’s a neat freak. Clit overstimulation. Unprotected sex but pulls out to cum on Y/n’s face.

— Notes: Feeding the injeolmis today.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The dormitory you have been staying in for the past year and a half was a sharing compound building between other university students. Therefore everything was being shared other than your own bedroom. The kitchen was a large open space with a tv too so it was almost like an open space between two rooms. The bathroom was a shared area, it���s rather small and private. If anyone wants the toilet they have to fight for it to get in first if you want to use it so it’s a bit of a hazard war out there.

Moreover one more thing you and your roommates share and have to do was your own laundry in the downstairs room. It was out of your dormitory almost. In a way this room was very secular and just hollow. It has a bunch of washing machines and a long table in the middle to separate your clothes from the basket. Bunch of hanging pegs and a long string hung across a wall to the other where you can hang your clothes to dry too.

The dorm wasn’t so bad. At least you thought it wasn’t until you started to see the revealing signs of your roommates and their flaws that you start to notice about them after living for so long together. It’s natural to get nitpicky and annoyed with them. You try to mostly be civil.

But you know someone who doesn’t try to be civil at all even if it was a small or big deal. That someone is one of your many roommates.

Huang Renjun. He was a transfer student from China who got accepted into your university. You didn’t speak to him much for the next three years until he put up a sign that he needs roommates so they can split the bill together. He said he doesn’t care how many there are. As long as they split the bill and make it more affordable for him and the others. You were the first one to reach out.

That is how you and Renjun met. You like to think you’re not so different but that’s a little bit of a lie considering he is quite the opposite from you. You’re laid back and you prefer to not confront anyone even if it was a huge problem that should be spoke about. Renjun on the other hand is slightly less bothered about how the other person feels. He can come off as a bit nagging. He’s also a massive clean freak which makes everyone in the house a bit tense.

He doesn’t like how his roommates aren’t as clean as he thought they were going to be originally. Especially you.

Oh how wrong he was about you. You’re probably the messiest girl he’s ever encountered and Renjun was slightly shocked at first. When the beginning started you tried to hide how disoriented and disorganised you are and can be. So he didn’t quite catch on until later on few months have passed now and he came back to your room completely trashed. It genuinely looks like you haven’t cleaned it in like a century; it sounds exaggerated and dramatic but it is not. That’s how Renjun envisioned a room to be so dirty it wasn’t cleaned out in a century. When he saw your room you thought he would faint or something.

But that was months ago. Renjun managed to convince you to let him clean your room out and it took a few desperate ‘please’ tries to get you to say yes to him.

He cannot stand dirtiness. He cannot stand anyone’s life being that way so he would rather clean it out for them just so he could sleep peacefully tonight.

The boy even made out certainly laundry schedules for the roommates. He said only two people each day can wash their clothes on a certain day because then the clothes would get messy together and it would be a hectic week of organising clothes on which one is theirs. They agreed because it sounds like a smart plan actually. Renjun’s always a great thinker when it comes to chores and house work.

Today was yours and Renjun’s day to wash your clothes. You’re not surprised because when you came down you saw Renjun already putting the dark clothes on one side and the light clothes on the other side now. You wish you could say he did surprise you at all but it didn’t.

“Good you’re here.” Renjun said now as he noticed you coming inside the downstairs washing area. You let out a soft hum. “I didn’t forget this time.” You smirk sheepishly and tease him now a little. Last week you missed your washing day and Renjun had to lecture you now.

He said your clothes would smell out the entire house and honestly it lead to a slight mishapping argument with him. Although you quickly made up and said you’re going to do it on his day with him to make Renjun feel better.

Renjun rolls his eyes as he noticed you’re talking about last week incident and so he just didn’t say anything and continues to do his laundry by separating them. You start to run your hands through your clothes doing the same thing; putting the dark to one side and the lighter clothes to the other side. There was a momentarily silence as you both did this and you’re clearly focused on doing this before you can start doing another thing.

As you’re too busy with your own clothes, Renjun lifts his large white tee shirt putting it to the other side with the light clothes similar to the colour white too. He then scrunched his eyebrows when he saw a silky and lace fabric between his clothes. Renjun couldn’t tell what this was at first. He doesn’t own anything laced. His first expression went through all the grief stages. Renjun lifts it up with the prickle of his fingertips in the air. It was white lace panties and they are definitely yours because you’re the only girl in the dorm house.

Renjun’s eyebrows fell flat as he looks with slight discomfort. He wasn’t even sure if they’re clean or not clean. It didn’t even matter if they were clean because Renjun never touched another one’s underwear before and he didn’t once felt so embarrassed and confused until he is now.

How did they even get there?

He felt slightly perverted too. It’s not like he wanted to look at them. They happened to be in his pile of laundry and now he has to get your attention and give you your panties back.

He’s going to make you think the wrong idea too. He hates this. Renjun swears he’s going to have a word with you.

He walks over to you now with the panties in his hands. You turn around back so you could face Renjun. You wondered what he wanted from you and that is when he saw your round eyes resemble a ball of fire now when you were met with your panties.

Renjun clears his throat as he saw your cheeks heat up and he hates to admit it. You being embarrassed over this was making him even more uncomfortable and his heart was racing because of you.

You point at them. “What are you doing with my panties?” You exclaim now shocked.

“Did you put your dirty laundry into my laundry pile by any chance?” Renjun snaps slightly as he pushed the panties back into your hand. He feels very much embarrassed as much as you are right now.

You look at the panties he dives into your hand, your head turns back to Renjun. “I don’t remember mixing our laundry together, ever.” You now said back crossing your arms against your chest suspiciously at Renjun.

You’re now assuming he stole them. But Renjun would never ever do such a thing essentially because it involved touching another person’s clothes they wear. He’s too much of a neat freak to be able to do that. So now you’re just thinking he’s either playing it cooly off now or you probably were clumsy enough to drop your panties in his laundry pile last week.

Renjun scowls at your interrogation right now. What is this? Police detective that you’re playing at? It’s obviously clear you’re the problem here right now.

He slants his empty laundry basket now away on the side and put on the black clothes pile into the first washing machine while he puts the lighter clothes in the second washing machine to start washing them. “So you’re now saying it’s me who would steal your panties? Please Y/n who do you think I am.” Renjun said clearly offended you’d think of him such a way. You roll your eyes. “I seen you checking up my shorts before, don’t act so innocent.”

Your sudden words calling him out on his behaviour that he was so sure you weren’t in knowledge about made him stunned in front of you. He turns to you with his eyes slightly avoiding eye contact now and he cleared his voice.

It’s clear he tries to be as calm and composed. Renjun puts on an unbothered look on his face. “You must’ve imagined that, Y/n. Not everyone wants to fuck you just because you’re good looking.”

He mocks you slightly so he can make this a little more believable but you didn’t seem to fall for it especially after how he’s avoiding your gaze. You scoff now putting in your laundry in the other free two washing machines. The dark and light separate. You close the washing machine door and put in the time to start it.

“I didn’t say you wanted to fuck me though?” You smirk out now catching him say that.

“Renjun you’re a very bad liar.” You said with slight sarcasm now. You can’t believe he’s trying to just slide past this now.

Renjun frowns coming up behind your back now his hands on the sides of your body and when you turn around you’re very close to him. Still there’s slight distance between the both of you. But now his hands are on the sides of your washing machine. You look up at him raising your eyebrows in surprise. You weren’t expecting him to come forward like this but he did to make a proven point.

He wants to prove to you that he really didn’t stare at your ass that time and checked it out. When he did actually but he was never going to admit that to you or anyone else. It was a mistake as well. Renjun couldn’t help himself. It’s like his eyes were forced to look at you in that moment.

He swore he would never do something like that again however, it’s kind of ironic now, Renjun was gazing you down on your face. “If I’m such a bad liar then look me in the eyes and listen to me.” He said to you and you look at his eyes. They were beautiful. They remind you of a crescent moon.

You’re staring at his eyes now and he repeats firmly as if he was now saying it to convince himself too. “I did not check your ass out that time.”

Your face leans closer and your breath and voice became lower and deeper now which makes Renjun’s skin cover with goosebumps. He hates that you’re very much an attractive young woman. It’s so much more unfair because Renjun can’t seem to handle the closeness between you and now that you only leaned more close towards him — it makes Renjun unsteady and his voice felt like a hitching spike in his throat that couldn’t even be moved.

Your eyes tell him to not lie to you. It’s like you’re telling him to just admit it and move on knowing you were not buying it. No matter how much he tried to convince you it’s not going to work on you and what you saw. You’re pretty much convinced already by your own belief.

“Did you take my panties?” You now ask him trying to see if he actually did or not.

Renjun groans as you now asked him again. He told you that it couldn’t be him and that it’s probably your silly fault because you’re the most non-organised roommate he has. And that says a lot knowing he has Mark Lee living with him too. “I didn’t take your damn panties Y/n.”

You scoff. “Well what did they do in your pile then?” Renjun told you with his eyes, like a warning threat that if you keep on trying to leer him into your interrogations he would do something to shut you up.

Renjun has enough when you were about to speak again and say something that could really set him off the edge and so he grabs your face. The hands on the side of your face pushed you forward where your lips crash against his own mouth now. He kissed you a bit harshly, to make a proven point to shut you up. It did work very much because this has shocked you as much as you hate to admit it too; your roommate was a great kisser. You let out a soft groan against the kiss when Renjun switched your positions pushing your body up against the washing machine now that you are using. He didn’t break the kiss at all and so your lips were now in a fiery state of making out on top of a washing machine. He pushed and deepens the kiss when he told his head to go in a tilting motion. It made you sighing in a deep grasp.

You looked irresistible so he couldn’t help himself at all. Renjun dislikes it when he cannot control himself around you. You made everything so difficult. Maybe because you are a very difficult person to be around with, to live with all this time, but without you Renjun’s life would be very dull that’s for sure. You felt your body go into a frenzy lockdown now. Your hands were on the sides of the machine until you attach them on Renjun’s neck pulling him slightly closer so he was pressed between your legs now. Your tongue pushed out of Renjun’s mouth causing a long string of saliva connecting your two red mouths. It was a hot sight to see Renjun so riled up and breathing heavily too.

You lean your head on the side when Renjun’s eyes couldn’t leave your shirt that you’re wearing. He felt annoyed that you’re fully clothed for once. He wished you were slightly more revealing right now. So his hands made it obvious now that he stripped your shirt off and you could feel the cold air coming from the room hitting your warm body.

Renjun groans against your neck as his rough grazing mouth explodes around your soft skin. It felt like an explosion when he’s kissing you so harshly like he was almost punishing you for pushing him off the edge by not believing him.

You squirm in the position he has you in. The way his weight was pressing down on your body it very much leaves you anticipating what’s to happen next. Renjun saw you whining and squirming now because of his mouth attacking your neck like it was nothing. He didn’t say anything to you but let’s a cruel smirk shown.

Your evidence was proven right. Renjun was here to simply pushing you a little now. You couldn’t do anything about it and you didn’t want to. You enjoyed seeing Renjun look so pissed off. All this built up anger in Renjun it was a rare sight but somehow you managed to get it out of him. You love it. You get to see his eyebrows arch down at you there was not a single happiness in those eyebrows he’s doing with them. You didn’t care if he’s going to tear you apart as much as he can. You didn’t care as long as you get to see that burning rage behind his eyes that you caused him to have.

It’s like you’re asking for it.

The fingers brush along your zipper to your jeans and he slips it down along with your jeans off your ankles it leaves you with your panties now. Renjun’s hand cups your sex now and this ring finger brushed to your clit clothed behind your soft fabric panties. You let out a pleasant smile and a groan now that he touched you somewhere you could react to in a good moment.

He scowls when you’re looking like you enjoy this situation. You’re not meant to be enjoying this but he cannot help but get annoyed even more that you’re practically begging for him to give you what you want now. “You’re not meant to be enjoying this, Y/n,” You heard him say to you.

He pulls his hands away from your area between the legs and now you’re left stranded. You let out a whine. “Do you have to be upset at me?” You groan. “Did you or did you not steal my panties…” You now ask with a little smirk behind your frustration on the face.

Renjun raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking me again?” He lets out a scoff now that your asking him again with your suspicions and so the hands at his belt unbuckled it taking off the trousers down the waist. He lets his jeans fall to the ground now and he looks at you with a dark warning gaze that said you shouldn’t ask him such a question again. “I told you three times already that I didn’t. So why bother repeating it?” He now said clearly unbothered by replying to you once more.

You feel your panties taken off and you couldn’t help but position your hands behind as he now slams himself in very subtle. Your mouth drops shaped in a little wide open posture as you creep in your moans. You swallow the harsh air and you feel his length taking a good place in your womb making it it’s home. You hate to think about your roommate this way but you always wondered how big he was and now your answer was given.

“God I can’t believe I’m about to fuck you without a condom…” Renjun closed his eyes reassuring himself that you must be clean. At least he hopes so. You furrow your eyebrows now at him, reassuring him slowly.

“I’m clean Renjun. God. You and your neat obsession—“ Your voice was cut off.

“Just shut up and take it.” He vows now telling you to be quiet. He doesn’t want to hear another word of complaint from you.

He was freaking huge and thick. You couldn’t really imagine him being inside you now but he was very slowly earning a spot and living inside your walls. Each stroke was meant with the anger inside him and that made you fall deeper in the pleasure. The depths of his rage and annoyance you put him through not just today.

No. It wasn’t just today’s anger you’re giving him. It’ was all the anger you made him feel all these months living with you for so long. The pettiness you give. The messiness you make wherever you go. Renjun just feels his head remembering all the things he holds against you that you weren’t even aware that he held against.

The time you left your dirty dinner plate lying somewhere. You didn’t even bother to clean it? It pissed off Renjun. That was a month ago. He didn’t mention anything because he cleaned it for you. Obviously you wouldn’t clean it because if he told you to do it you’d reply with ‘Okay!’ And then forget again. He sometimes wonders if he’s your servant or if you’re just trying to get out of doing your chores.

He groans now that he slams himself even deeper. The thrusts became cruel and aggressive. You hung your desperate expression against your palm. Your one arm was positioned behind on the washing machine so when you move your hips against the cruel countering and dangerous thrusts you can’t help but bury your moan in your palm hoping it doesn’t explode out like a combustion. Your droopy eyes were like a comet to Renjun.

They fell down on earth for him when he was deeply thrusting and pushing in and out of your direction to your pussy. His dick made you feel a lot more than just pleasure. They made you associate yourself with how much you trouble Renjun and you can’t help but feel like your pressure was going haywire.

He angrily leans forward now capturing your mouth with his. He kissed you hungrily while he keeps thrusting in and out of you way more quicker now than before and it caused you to break the kiss with your panting voice.

“F-fuck… Renjun…” You weren’t supposed to be enjoying this but your insides were squeezing so tight you feel your stomach sucking in. He was kneading inside you like you’re a folding bread that he was making from the compounds.

You’re like a toy that was broken up into pieces by Renjun and then fixed up brand new. It felt like this with his enlarge hands on your hips pushing you forward now even more as you’re on top of the washing machine spread like a statue just for him, just for Renjun.

It was a public setting too which was completely out of your idea until now. Renjun didn’t seem to care too much. He was too focused on your beautiful face looking so fucked out when he’s ramming inside you non-stop in your insides and with each squeeze you’re milking him to his climax.

He wasn’t being the kindest to you. As much as this was very intimate with him and he held your body close so he could devour your insides like the next Hanging Babylon. When Renjun wanted to torture you some more he rushed his free hand over your clit and rubbed it in a flicking motion with all his fingers as he keeps thrusting into you at the same time; Renjun’s multitasking to have you coming undone. It’s like punishment for you.

You moan helplessly out now. Your moans were coming off as a desperate wail.

Punishment for being a nightmare to live with. But as much as you’re a nightmare and a complete health hazard to share a home with. He was thankful for you in some ways. You’re not thoughtful for other’s space. You’re clingy when you’re bored. You break things. You’re clumsy. You are the messiest person on earth. Yet he wouldn’t swap you for someone else even if it meant the world was ending.

Maybe he grew attached to you. Maybe he was feeling something for you nowadays.

Your hands were scratching underneath his shirt that he has on, running down the smooth soft and olive-like back he has. Renjun let’s out sweet groans close to your ears as you did this action. He seem to be in heaven when your fingers crossed his skin. It felt like magic you’re doing to him.

“I’m so close.” You bite your bottom lip as your head pressed against his chest when Renjun came closer now and starts to look you in the eyes as you’re standing on the very tip of the cliff now.

He stood with you there because he, himself, was very close now to his own climax and Renjun frowns when each thrust brought him closer. “I’m going to pull out.” He warns and when he did suddenly pull out Renjun made sure to get you your orgasm. He can be nice you see?

He brushed his fingers inside your pulsing walls and he managed to finger you to your nearest orgasm. He loves seeing you squirm against his hands now because it shows how good he’s making you feel. Renjun feels almost proud when he saw your orgasm and he feels it reaching his fingers.

It was a bit messy for his liking but maybe he likes seeing you become a mess when it’s him doing it to you. Only a little.

You slowly regain your concentration and you slide off the washing machine as you go on your knees now. You suddenly wrap your hands around his hard twitching cock that’s begging to have its own climax now and you’re here to delivery that.

Renjun’s eyes darken as he saw you on your knees looking so pretty with your trembling legs because you just had a massive orgasm; however it’s not fair that you’re the one orgasming and he couldn’t. You should return the favour. Your hands stroke his cock up and down and it didn’t take long to have Renjun groaning.

You feel his member twitch in your hand and then the liquid came out all over your mouth and face. You let it drip down a little and you didn’t mind it. You prefer it messy anyways. You feel the warmth emitting on your skin and you take a lick and wipe yourself once he was done with a silent groan as you pushed him to his orgasm.

To you he looks like the most dreamy guy. He shut his eyes for a little before regaining his sight back and he pulls away to take a deep breath.

You move your sinewy back to the nearest wall and slowly start to pull your panties up and your jeans. You seen Renjun doing the same as he pulls his trousers up to his waist now and you can’t help but have a smirk.

“I remembered now.” You exclaim with your mischievous eyes. He looks at you raising an eyebrow wondering what did you remember?

“What is it?” Renjun said with a confused expression.

You smirk. “I dropped my panties in your laundry pile when I was walking back to my room after laundry.” You announced with a little laugh.

You guess you really are a messy roommate. And Renjun was right.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this Fic and Follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[flowerfreya]

Weaponized Incompetence

“Do you know how to clean”

Part 1

Pairing : John Price x Reader

John and you are going through a rough patch , one that may not be solvable

John is going to win his wife back. How? He doesn’t know but it will be done. He loves you with all his heart and he hasn’t been showing it in the best way. He put you on the back burning , a constant always in his life that he didn’t nurture or pet. Never stimulated. Didn’t think he needed too. Thinking paying the bills, having money, and not cheating was enough to be a good husband. (It wasn’t).

Price has been cleaning all day, trying to make things right. He brought flowers for the house. Vacuumed every room , mopped the kitchen and bathroom and started laundry.

He thought he had a great day, so he decided to take leave for the next three weeks. He hasn’t told you yet but he thinks that you will be excited.

That’s not the case.

When you step into the house, Price is standing at the door waiting for your reaction, if you have any at all.

Looking around and then seeing his face and looking likes he’s waiting for something, “What’s going on ?” , you say with a little chuckle.

“I cleaned up” , he says, lifting his arms up and turning his body in a look around motion.

“Oh…what did you clean up?” , you ask, starting to walk around the house.

“I vacuumed, mopped and started the laundry”.

“Did you put down carpet freshener?”

“No”

“What did you use to mop?”.

“Just water”.

“Did you separate the clothes by light and dark?”.

“No”.

John looks up and sees you just exasperated and shaking your head.

“I honestly don’t know why I’m surprised”, you walk over to the washing machine and stop it, pulling out a light pink shirt that you know is for sure supposed to be white.

“John, you basically just pushed dirt around when you mop with just soap you know that right”, you start getting the mop bucket out with soap.

He thinks that’s found a solution , “maybe if you write me a l-”, he stops talking when you whip your neck and stare at him.

“Are you a child or an adult?”, you ask.

“An adult”, he answers.

“I’m not making you a list to clean, you're in the military, you should know how to clean…do you know how to clean?”, you turn off the water and turn your whole body towards him., “are you going to answer the question?”

John clears his throat,”yes, I know how to clean”, he doesn’t understand why you are so angry. He thinks that he did a lot for you today, shit almost everyday he does a lot for you and you being angry at him and not telling him why is starting to grate his nerves.

“What did I do to you”, he snaps, “because you are angry at me and I don’t understand why”

“I guess it’s because you act like a child and I’m tired of it”, you snap back.

“I heard what you said to your friend over the phone, do you actually feel like that?”, he ask, moving closer to you. He doesn’t want to argue with you. He wants to be better for you. He wants you to want him not because of convenience , but because you love him.

“Am I tired of cleaning of your shit, shit that I have AKSED you multiple times to clean up….?”, you answer him.

You start to cry, an angry frustrated cry , “I work too you know , I’m tired all the time, and when I get home from work and see nasty dip bottles on the floor I get frustrated.” , you start to mop , like you don’t want him to see you cry.

“I remember asking you to clean up the bottle, to not leave it just laying around, you said okay, do you remember that”, you look up at him with raised eyebrows. He nods his head because he does remember that, actually he remembers all the times you’ve asked to not leave the dip bottles everywhere.

“In my head, I told myself that this would be the last time I ask you to clean up after yourself, and the next week a fucking dip bottle sitting right along side the couch”, you let a self deprecating chuckle.

“I’m done”, you say with such finality. It scares him that he won’t be able to get you back.

[moo-blogging]

Nothing in my head but Levi being the perfect husband and father.

You thought you were prepared for your little one to come into your lives, but the troubles, the accidents, and the sudden outbrusts caught you off guard. You imagined the quiet, peaceful, loving hours with your newborn. But your body ached and sore, you were bleeding from under, and your baby required a lot of attention.

Soon, it had been 5 months and you finally got hold of your baby. You could recognise the cries (hungry, soiled diapers, in pain/discomfort). It took a tol on your body and mind. You loved your baby, but you weren't so sure you loved yourself anymore. Your hair was mostly oily and messy. Your clothes now dotted with patches of vomitted milk, and you were sure you permanently smell like poop.

Levi watched as you struggled with motherhood. He tried his best to help you every day before and after work. He gave you hugs every night before bed, but you almost always fell asleep before Levi could soothe you with his loving words of affirmation. Even if you managed to stay awake, you would mumble, "I had to, I'm a mom now."

It was a rainy evening that day. Levi did the dishes and you finally put baby to sleep. The house was cool. The soft patting sound of the rain falling on the roof created a relaxing melody. It was peaceful in the house. You sat on your bed, folding the endless laundry. Levi came in and ushered you to take a shower.

"Wash your hair, Y/n. I want to dry your hair tonight." Levi gently pushed you into the bathroom. You took a long shower, scrubing your skin and washing your oily hair 3 times. You finally managed to do your full facial routine and changed into clean pyjamas that Levi picked for you. You came out from the shower, feeling like a new person. You were shocked as you saw Levi had changed the sheets and lit a therapeutic candle.

Sitting in the living room, Levi was drying your hair with a towel for you as you shared a heartwarming conversation about his work, baby's day, and your future plan. Levi was supportive of you and all the decisions you decided to do. When he was done, you lifted your head and he planted a kiss on your forehead.

Levi tiptoed around the house, making sure the doors and windows were locked while you brought clean milk bottles from the kitchen into your bedroom. You checked on your baby out of habit. You felt this unexplainable warmth in your heart as you watched your baby. The same hair colour as Levi's, rosy chubby cheeks moving softly with every breath, and the small fist that grabbed onto the little blanket given by the Survey Corps.

Levi locked the bedroom door and stood with you for a while, watching the baby too. You leaned against him, your palms finding each other. Levi brushed his thumb on the back of your palm. You both exhaled with relief and bliss. "C'mon," Levi pulled you away from the crib.

You crawled onto the bed, smelling the clean sheets and calming scent of your favourite flower. The candle had burnt out, but the scent remained. Your bodies found each other naturally, like two pieces of Yin and Yang. Levi rested his chin on your head, while your face fitted perfectly at his collarbones. "You know, " Levi's voice was hoarse, he cleared his throat, "you know we haven't cuddle in months. You always fell asleep first, or you felt too hot." It was true, your hormones were a mess. And you felt dirty.

"I missed you," Levi pulled you closer. "I missed you too, Levi. I'm sorry I couldn't do better." You signed. "Don't apologise, Y/n. I have decided to take some time off from work and take care of baby with you. I want you to be able to do what you want and I want to spend time with baby too. I really want to be a father.." You knew how much Levi wanted to be the father he never had, and you appreciated how much effort he was putting in.

You tilted your head and kissed his lower chin, "thank you, Levi. You'll be an amazing dad, I know you will. We'll make this work together." Levi responded your kiss with a kiss on your nose, "can't do this without you, Y/n. Goodnight, my love."

[devils-dares]

Super self indulgent buttt could I get some Carmy Fluff ! Maybe reader calls Carmy over for help with cleaning their apartment/needing help cooking due to executive function issues !! Or vise verse :)

thanks for getting me out of my slump, wrote this in one night :)

wordcount: 721

-----

You looked at the pile of laundry in the corner of your bedroom. Blinds closed, dirty sheets, cups and plates stacked in haphazard piles.

You haven’t taken care of yourself in days, evidence of it lay in the pimples that mar your face, and the smell of the perfume you wore into the office going rotten on your skin.

It’s time to call in the big guns, you think.

A phone call and fifteen minutes later, you hear clattering around your apartment. You sink further into your bed, embarrassment heating your cheeks, turning you red. A few windows open, and the chime of the washer rings across the apartment. You hear grumbling and movement in your kitchen, he’s looking for the lighter, the starter went out in the stove and you didn’t call to get it fixed yet. The pot scrapes against the metal grates of your stove, and you hear ingredients plonk into the water, he must be making a stew. The floor creaks under the weight of his steps, and he knocks on the door before he enters.

“Hey, Birdie.” Carmy says softly, seeing your back to the door. He straightens out piles of laundry and opens the shades just a little so he can get some light in. “Gonna warm the shower, then I’ll come get ya.” He leaves, and the pipes creak loudly before the showerhead shoots hot water.

He walks over to the kitchen to check the stew before coming to get you. He comes around the other side of the bed and smiles at you, brushing your matted hair out of your face. Extending his hand, Carmy waits for you to take it. The smile grows into a soft grin as your fingers tangle with his, and he pulls you out of bed.

“Look at ya, Birdie. So pretty.” You know he’s a liar, and he’s probably fighting off the recoil from your stench, but he lets nothing slip. You don’t speak, even as he strips you and puts you in the shower himself, or when he sits on the closed toilet lid instead of leaving the bathroom. You don’t dare speak when he tells you about the restaurant, and how he and Syd finally perfected that damn recipe. He doesn’t say anything when you shampoo thrice, or scrub til your body turns red. He doesn’t flinch when you sit under the stream of hot water for a while. He simply grabs your towel from the dryer and wraps you in it before wrapping your wet hair for you. He rubs lotion on your flaky skin and dresses you in soft clothes.

Carmy takes you to the couch, and you notice the first load in the washer is done, the blankets and pillow covers on the couch smelling like clean laundry and scent beads. He stirs the stew and then starts on your bedroom, stripping the mattress of your sheets before throwing those in the washer.

“Stew smells delicious.” You say, breaking your bout of silence since he’s been here. It’s a soft smile you get in return.

“Yeah? Michael’s recipe, called it ‘everything and the kitchen sink’.”

“Thank you, Carm.”

“Always, Birdie.” He clicks on your favorite movie, letting it distract you as he empties the dirty dishes from your room. You’re completely encapsulated in the film when he sits down next to you again, right in time for the ending. You lean forward in your seat, moving your mouth to the words said on-screen.

Carmy smiles. Your sheets were clean, clothes were in the wash. You’d showered and now you’d be eating soon. He did his job, and now he was going to dote on you relentlessly.

“You gotta go back?” You ask quietly, and he shakes his head.

“Syd and Richie can handle it. Marcus made these beautiful cakes, said he wants you ‘round to taste ‘em soon.” He says, making sure you’re thinking about the future and not wallowing in your current thoughts.

“I’ll be by.” You smile, and he can finally have some relief, you’re back in some capacity.

“I’ll tell him. Stew?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Here, just a little longer.” You say, shifting to lay against him. The tips of his fingers get that excited tingle in them.

“Long as you need, Birdie. I’m here.”

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 10: We Should Get Married

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: Ari’s got a special date planned for you in a special location the two of you hold near and dear

Word Count: 3,229

Content/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, smut, outdoor sex, protected sex (woo hoo! He comes in the condom), cockwarming, nudity, kissing, mentions of alcohol consumption (champagne), happy tears, loooooove or whatever, nervous and organized Ari, semi-unsuspecting Duchess, good friends, discussions of marriage, I think an engagement ring should be a warning

A/N: It’s been too long! I’m so happy to finally release another chapter of our majestic mountain man.

PLEASE screech with me in asks, comments, and reblogs!! Much love!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter.

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Ari had run his hands through his hair in nervousness so many times today that he was afraid he was about to go bald. His hiking boots paced on the floor of the ranger station as he bit his nails, a nasty old habit, and went through the plan with his coworkers and friends once again.

“Max, you’re sure you can do that?”

Max rolled his eyes, albeit with a smile, and nodded once again.

“Yes, Ari. It’ll be good training for my next lumberjack competition, anyway. You know nothing is gonna keep me from climbing up a tree for a good shot.”

Ari nodded and blew out a breath, hands on his hips.

“Okay, okay, good. And Rachel, appointment all booked?”

She smiled. “Yep! Today after work, so she’ll be all ready for tomorrow. Oh! And before I forget, here is your special package. I know you said you were going to pick it up from the jeweler, but I knew I’d be seeing you today, so one less thing to worry about going into town for.”

Ari reached for the bag Rachel held out for him, feeling the small box was there. He gingerly nestled his fingers in the cinched opening and pulled to get to the contents, taking out and rolling the velvet box between his fingers. He carefully opened it up to check the contents, the sparkle in his eye matching that of the item in front of him. A rare grin grew on the mountain ranger’s face for how anxious he had been, planning for tomorrow this whole week.

“Thank you for this. It’s perfect, just like her.”

You were running around the house like crazy trying to tidy up as dinner was cooking on the stove. After a couple weeks of insane work, Ari had convinced you to take two days off to relax and treat yourself. It wasn’t without your resistance, but finally you gave in since it would be a good opportunity to finally get to some things done around the house you’d been putting off. It was a chance to deep clean, but unfortunately, rush it a little since you wanted your day tomorrow to be all relaxation.

So far, you had reorganized the entire kitchen and spice cabinets, swept and mopped the whole house, tidied the bathroom, and washed all your bedding and laundry. All that was left was a little light dusting that was sort of high up, so you’d figured you’d wait for the next time Ari came over for him to get those high places, or at least make sure you didn’t fall when trying to reach the top of your cabinets.

You were sprawled on your floor between semi-folded piles of laundry, dresser drawers pulled open and emptied in an attempt to reorganize when you heard a knock on the door. You pushed yourself up with a groan and shuffled over the hardwood floors in your socks, pushing up your old, oversized sweatshirt sleeves, and readjusting your sweatpants before reaching for the door handle. When you turned it, you were surprised to be met by Rachel’s smiling face. And then it hit you and you facepalmed.

“Rach! Hi, oh my gosh, it totally slipped my mind. We have that nail appointment, don’t we?”

She laughed as you gestured for her to come through the door. “Yeah, I figured you either forgot or were busy when I called twice and you didn’t pick up. No worries, though. It’s not for another half hour.”

You blew some hair out of your face and checked your watch as you closed the door.

“Okay. That’s good, then. I’m going to go change. You can help yourself to dinner if you haven’t eaten yet and then we can go?”

“Sounds good.” She nodded as she already went to open your cabinets to grab a plate.

Taking a rare chance to pamper yourself was a treat. You laid in bed late Friday morning, sighing as you looked out the window, sipping a coffee that was lukewarm at this point, but you didn’t mind. It was made with love. Ari had stopped by just an hour ago before his Ranger shift and made it for you, pleasantly surprised to find you still tangled in the sheets. It was rare for you to sleep in this late, but he was glad you’d taken his advice on giving yourself a break, a chance to relax for once. You deserved it with how hard you worked.

You watched him intently that morning, the then-steaming mug of coffee snug in your hands, as he strode over to your closet. He slid the hangers from one side to the other, searching for something specific until he found it. “Ah! Here it is.”

He turned and set it on your dresser: a sundress. The one you had worn on your first date in the mountains where Ari had shown you his favorite overlook of town.

“This one’s my favorite. Wear it tonight? I’ll take you out.”

Your face morphed into a sleepy smile, voice still a little raspy.

“Okay. Then you and me can come back here afterwards? We’ve both got the weekend off.”

He grinned, moving across the room in only a few steps, leaning over and reaching for his hands to frame your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his fingertips barely tangled in your hair. Ari nodded, his golden brown locks swaying beautifully as he did, as he leaned in, placing a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and finally deeply and lovingly on your lips.

“Perfect, Duchess. I love you.”

And with that, he was out the door.

Ari showed up at your house that evening when the sun was low in the sky, but there was still a little time before it set below the horizon. You walked down the steps out to his truck, surprised to see him dressed up more than usual. He wore a flannel shirt, but you could tell it was a new, fresh one. Crisp. The colors were complimentary to those of your dress. Where was he taking you? Somewhere fancy? You trotted out to see him and leaned into him as he squeezed you tight.

When you pulled away, you ran your hands up and down his chest on the soft fabric while his hands rested on your waist.

“So what’s the special occasion, Bear?”

He smiled and shrugged, grabbing your hand and leading you to the truck. “Just another day in paradise. There have to be a special occasion for me to treat my girl?”

Ari was playing it cool on the outside, but underneath the surface, he was a nervous wreck. He had wiped his hands several times on his good jeans so you wouldn’t be able to feel how clammy they were. His heart was beating a mile a minute, but he did his best to keep his breathing even. This was meant to be a happy occasion, and deep down, he knew what your answer would be. He had known for months, really when he looked back at the signs, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still nervous.

You giggled as you hopped up on the seat. “Of course not. I’ve just never seen you this dressed up. You look spiffy. I like it.”

Ari huffed out a laugh as he climbed up in the truck behind you and closed the door. “More than the ranger shorts? More than that old ballcap I always see your drooling over?”

You turned your torso towards him, holding your hands up to stop that thought. “Woah, woah. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I will say it’s a top contender, though. Me and my sweet babe who looks absolutely dapper. But I’d happily spend everyday forever with you, in any clothes you want.”

Ari smirked as he turned the keys in the ignition. “Even no clothes?”

You poked a finger into his chest. “Now that, sir, might be my favorite outfit of yours.”

You knew exactly what was happening when Ari pulled onto the rocky road between the evergreens and past the creek bed. Well, at least you thought you did. The same magic was in the air as a year ago when he had brought you out here the first time, except now, there was somehow even more. More electricity, more love, more beauty in it all. After all that time, nothing had faded. It had grown brighter.

More than just metaphorically. Physically, too. As Ari pulled the truck towards the familiar Rocky cliff, small twinkling lights came into your vision. You looked over at him and tilted your head to the side as he put the truck in park.

“Ari, what’s going on? You did this?”

He turned towards you and smiled, gathering your hands in his and placing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Of course I did. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen out here, but I figured some extra ambiance would be nice. I’ve got picnic supplies in the back, why don’t we hop on out and I’ll grab them, meet you over at the blanket that’s set out. Sound good?”

You nodded and gave him a final kiss as he helped you down out of the cab. While Ari hung back, you made your way out near the cliff edge to the blanket where fairy lights were strewn across a small wooden arch, along with ivy and some buds of your favorite flowers. You leaned over to sniff one, the floral scent mixing with the surrounding pine in the refreshing mist that covered the mountains. As you looked out over the town in the valley, you could see the peachy sun just starting to dip below the horizon. This was your favorite time of day next to the sunrise, as the golden hour light bathed the scenery.

You stood back up and took a deep breath in, relaxing your shoulders as your heard Ari’s steps coming up behind you.

“You know, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this view.”

“Neither will I.” Ari’s voice came from right behind you, but not as high up as you would’ve expected. And he sounded like he had stopped moving. Usually, he would’ve come up and hugged you from behind to share the view, but something must’ve stopped him. You turned around to investigate.

When you did so, your gaze was drawn downward, finding Ari’s face lower than yours. He was on a knee, sharing the blanket you were standing on. Your breathing started picking up and you covered your mouth in a gasp as you saw what was in his hands: a small wooden box that housed a ring. A beautiful emerald, framed by twisting vines of gold. It was so unique. The deep green matched the wooded mountains around you, and somehow seemed mimetic to the love you and Ari shared. A comforting, natural, golden tie between hearts. The ring was perfect, and so you.

Before Ari could even say a word, tears were flooding your eyes.

“Yes! Oh my gosh. Yes, Ari, Yes!!”

He laughed and smiled as he gently took your hand that you had frantically shoved out in front of you and slid the ring on your finger. In a second, you were falling into him, throwing your arms around his neck in the tightest hug, turning your head to kiss his bearded cheek over and over again.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

Ari stood up, your feet no longer on the ground from his squeeze around your torso, spinning you around in celebration. When he finally set you down, he pulled back and held your hands in his, kissing the new ring that fit perfectly onto your finger, looking deeply into your eyes and giggling with elation.

“I love you, too, Duchess. Baby, I had a whole speech planned and I didn’t even get to say it!”

You shook your head and sniffled, smiling profusely. “Okay, okay, sorry. Go ahead, say it now.”

Ari took a quick breath and rubbed his thumbs over your knuckles as he began.

“When I brought you here a year ago, I told you that this was my favorite spot on earth. But I want you to know, you’re my favorite spot on earth. I’d be so happy anywhere with you. You saved me, and you’ve given me endless grace, and I’m so honored that you’re willing to let me be your husband.”

Ari’s eyes were watering now with emotion as you moved your hands to his cheeks, pulling him down for another kiss. Afterwards, he turned his head and kissed the inside of your left hand, right at the underside of your newly adorned engagement band. He was already obsessed with seeing you in it. Feral, even, and you could tell by the way his gaze darkened, exactly what he was feeling. A smirk grew on your face.

“Right here or truck bed?”

Ari’s grin matched your own. “Truck bed. You go ahead and get over there. I’ve gotta make a call first.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, so you slowly started walking as Ari pulled out his phone from his back pocket.

“Max, hope you got some good photos, but I’m gonna need you to climb down real quick from that tree and get outta here.”

Ari looked at you with a dopey smile. “My fiancée and I are about to do something I don’t want you to see, especially with a telescopic lens.”

Ari shoved his phone back in his pocket and jogged after you.

“Yes! Oh my gosh. Yes, Ari, Yes!!”

Your hands clawed into his chest as you ground your body against his harder, faster. Ari’s flannel shirt had been hastily unbuttoned and opened, his tan chest on display and pants tossed off to the side as you straddled his waist, sundress long gone. It was a wild act of love in the middle of the wilderness. Ari’s feet were planted on the blanket he had laid out in the truck bed as he thrusted upwards to meet you. His blunt fingertips dug slightly into your hips, guiding your movements. The sun had fallen in the sky, the last drops of light remaining, just enough to cause the new gemstone you wore to sparkle almost as much as the eyes of your new fiancé.

Ari grunted and groaned as he continued to look up at you, his muscles growing sore and faltering with exhaustion of chasing your mutual, pleasureful release. You could see the pleading in his eyes as you clenched, the both of you nearing your peak.

The sensation of the hair at Ari’s base tickling your clit had been stimulating you slowly in a gradual climb, but not enough to tip you over the edge, the two of you prolonging this aspect of your celebration of a life tied together.

Ari took one of his large hands and snaked it towards your belly, fingers putting pressure just above your mound and thumb making small circles on your slick clit. The begging that you had only read on his face became verbal as you clenched harder at the stimulation.

“Please, Angel. I’m so close. Come for me. Come with me, baby. I-I-“

Ari let out a loud groan that morphed into almost a whimper as he threw his head into your chest while he spilled into the condom. His breaths were heaving with satisfaction. Your arms cradled his head against you and your body shook with your orgasm, triggered by seeing him like that. You rode out your high with a few slow grinds of your hips before collapsing on top of Ari. He leaned back against the rear window of his truck, looking up at you, the happiest he had ever been. Ari had never been this at peace, this satisfied with his life, but right now, it was better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

You looked down at him, having moved your hands to the sides of his neck as he had pulled away, your thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of his jugular.

Ari was positively enamored. He had been this whole time, but now he knew for sure, he belonged to you. You belonged to each other.

“Let’s get married right now.”

Your eyes went wide and you laughed. “Sex was that good, huh?”

The smile had no prospect of being wiped off Ari’s face. “I mean, it’s always good. But that was better somehow. I can’t wait to see what it’s like when we’re husband and wife.”

One of your hands moved over his heart. “Bear, I guarantee you it’ll be much better, considering I’ll be the one going feral over you wearing a wedding band.”

He shrugged. “So then why not right now? Drive out to a little chapel in Vegas, hire an Elvis, ride away into the sunset in one of those ridiculous pink limousines with the longhorns on the hood. We can find you a little white dress, I’ll rent a cheap suit. Ya know, feed each other wedding cake, the whole shebang.”

You just giggled and shook your head. “No. I’ve gotta tell my mom. I want our family and friends there.”

Ari sighed, but acquiesced. “I know, I know. It was worth a shot, though. Ain’t no point in waiting when you know, though…. ya know?”

You nodded. “I know, hun. And trust me, I’d get married to you in a heartbeat, but look how much work you put into this engagement. I want that in the wedding. Sure, it’s our special day, but we’re sharing it with family. And I want it to be as beautiful as the love we share.”

Ari’s eyebrows raised as he blew out a breath. “If you want what I did for this engagement on a wedding scale, I’m not sure we’re gonna have money for a honeymoon. We can go to Paris, but it’ll just have to be the one in Tennessee.”

You grimaced thinking about how much Ari must’ve spent. Flowers were expensive! And honestly, probably so was the ring. But you knew that the amount of money spent wasn’t what it was about. It was about showing how much you loved each other through your gestures.

“No need to go bankrupt. We’ll keep it small and thrifty. All I care about is people seeing how devoted I am to you.”

Ari smiled, the small stress that had painted his brow melting away from your reassurance. Just as he was sitting up to give you a kiss, his stomach grumbled, causing you both to laugh.

“Oh yeah, this was supposed to be a picnic. Okay, babe, pull out the food and let’s get at it.”

Ari stole a kiss and leaned over, opening the picnic basket as you let out a whine at the feeling of him inside you. That reminded you that you were both sitting here naked, too. From on top of the food, Ari pulled out a warm blanket, heated by the steamy container lids. He draped it over the two of you, the skin of your chests comfortably pressed together.

The rest of the night was filled with more than enough warmth, love, laughter, and champagne sipping for the two of you.

Next >

Bonus A/N: hngggg squeeeee!!😍🫣 that is all.

Taglist: @patzammit @hawkeyes-queen @identity2212 @jamneuromain @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @mrsevans90 @steviebbboi @mercurial-chuckles

[dreamer-after-dark]

I could see Wally Darling being the kind to sneak into your room/house when you're away and steal your panties/underwear. You figure that maybe the washing machine is eating them at first until a pair you were wearing yesterday disappeared from the top of the pile.

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Side note, I have had my panties stolen before! Anyway, here you go ٭(•﹏•)٭

Part Two

Word count: 1,945

Wally is shameless.

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[Y/N]

It happened again.

[Julie]

What??

[Sally]

Panty thief struck again?

[Julie]

Twice in one week???

[Y/N]

It's not a thief! I refuse to believe it!

[Sally]

How many pairs does that make now? 12?

[Julie]

Close! 15!

[Y/N]

17

[Sally]

I fail to understand why this can't be the doing of a petty thief?

[Julie]

Y/N!

[Julie]

Y/N are you there?

[Julie]

Where did they go? :/

[Sally]

Alas, my darling Juliet! Tis I alone that remains here

[Wally]

Hello

[Sally]

Hi, Wally.

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Seventeen pairs of your best fitting panties have been lost, lost forever. Never to be found with the same elasticity or fit. You stared out into the empty street where the sun parted between leaves. You were too broke to afford replacing them and so you wandered this world commando when the pants offered enough coverage and comfort. Or even if it didn't you still had no choice should you plan around an inviting evening out.

With a huff you adjusted your basket against your hip, your unfolded clothes flopping a bit. The sunshower surprised you as it pelted against the non opening glass doors of the building's laundromat. After double checking the seats and dryer you headed for the opened door just off to the side. You entered a gray stairwell. Beneath the staircases was a collection of cleaning supplies, a yellow mop bucket, and a locked cabinet.

Your slippers echoed through the stairwell as you jogged up. The door to your floor was propped open with a rock. You used your free hand to open the door fully and slide the rock inside. You pushed it to the side with your foot not wanting anyone to trip over on it like you had. Your phone smacked your face leaving a nasty bruise under your eye. It still hurts to remember.

The door shut behind you with a rusty squeak. Your slippers slid lightly against the tiled floors until you made it to your apartment door. The handle gave way and you were thrilled to find it still open. Music boomed from somewhere within one of the rooms. The smell of weed wafted around mixing with the chilled air feeding in from the windows.

You inhaled deeply, shaking loose your worries. As you walked down your hallway you passed the open bathroom where giggling and hushed whispers could be heard. Julie and Sally were doing their makeup together, facetiming you assumed. Further was the kitchen where you heard the clinking of silverware against wood. The voices from the bathroom quieted.

Wally was stirring a cup of coffee when he spotted your annoyed expression, "Hello, Y/N. Are you alright?"

"Another pair off and vanished," you roll your eyes with a glance at your basket, "It's getting annoying."

"I can see how annoying that could get. Do you think they've all been stolen?"

"No! No. I'm sure it'll sort itself out. Have you got anymore coffee, Wally?"

Wally hands you the mug he was holding, "This one's yours, honeycrisp."

You thanked him as he turned away to prepare his own. His hair cascaded like waves down his back. The vibrant blue shining below the lights. Wally was amazing at coloring his hair. You turn away and head down the hallway where two doors faced each other. You entered the left one silently praying thanks to the great nothingness beyond for leaving it unlocked for you.

You placed your laundry on your bed. You would fold the clothes, but your keys needed to be found. You looked around your slightly cluttered room. The tapestry on your window was tied up letting in the sun. The smell of wet earth rose up as the rain thundered down. By the window was a desk. It was stained with paint and ink. On top was a journal, several colors of paint, and a large bottle of water. A mug with several drying paint brushes propped up within say atop the bookshelf.

Small plushies were scattered among the shelves and on the floor. Your bed was next to the wall by the door. The blanket was a pile on the floor next to the end of the bed. Larger plushies were squished from your tossing and turning. Pillows were crammed between the bed frame and wall. Eyes landing on your newly added laundry basket made you realize cleaning your entire room would help you find your missing keys.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜[Wally]

Hi, Sally.

Hi, Julie.

[Sally]

Wally, you wouldn't happen to know about the Boudoir Bandit?

[Wally]

No.

[Julie]

Maybe it's one of the other tenants!

[Sally]

Nefarious tenant!

[Y/N]

It has to be the machine

Can't be anything else

[Sally]

Perish the thought! The Panty Snatcher must be caught and brought to justice!

[Julie]

Perish the thought!

[Wally]

Perish the thought!

[Y/N]

Who could it be?

[Sally]

I see you've come around.

[Julie]

It could be anyone!

Any of us!!

How scary!!!

[Wally]

It could be anyone?

[Sally]

List of suspects:

Sally

Julie

Y/N

Poppy

Wally

Howdy

Barnaby

Home

[Y/N]

Me??

Why me??

[Julie]

It's a crazy world, Y/N!

We cannot rule out anyone!

Not even you

[Sally]

Julie is exactly right, darling Y/N! We simply cannot rule you out!

[Wally]

I would hate to see you go without, neighbor.

[Y/N]

Ok :/

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You smirked at the messages filling up your screen. Julie's energetic texts became shorter and you could imagine her hot pink nails tapping against the screen of her phone. Sally's text became increasingly verbose in response. Wally was lurking as he always did, chiming in here and there.

The phone slipped into your pocket as music filled the already tidied room. Your keys had been found while sweeping underneath your desk. Along with a few scrunchies and a button, your heavily outfitted keys were dragged out. With such a clunky set up you wondered how you ever lose it to begin with. Work keys, house keys, anime characters, pepper spray, and a stuffed animal. All of it designed to be eye-catching and hard to lose.

You flopped onto your bed opting for rest. Your ultimate goal had been completed and you were horribly drained. Your mind drifted back to the mounting loss of your panty collection. Solid color boxers, high waisted panties, boy shorts, thongs, sick day panties. All of it is gone! Sally was right to call it nefarious, but believing that you were being specifically targeted was a level of fear you wanted to avoid. You turned off your notifications for the next hour and returned to cleaning up.

Soon your room was clean, your clothes put away, and the bathroom was finally open. The glow of the full moon was bright and brilliant tonight. Leaving your desk you grabbed a change of clothes, sans panties, and a towel. You stripped down leaving all of your clothes inside the now empty basket. Stepping out you noticed the room across from you was quiet. There was a note taped to the door reading:

Out for the next three days! Rent is on the table!

Sally and Julie were heading out to New York for a concert. All the more to enjoy a long, luxurious shower. Wally was in the room down the opposite hall. His room was the only one on that side. He had the biggest room in the apartment for all of his art equipment. Aside from his bed you couldn't tell it was his bedroom. The last you had been inside it was filled with disturbing personal works. Each one felt delicate and haunting. Completely unlike his pleasant and sweet demeanor.

The music was still going though not as loud. It was mellow and dragging. You could hear the bubbling of his bong. The sound made your heart race. You quickly stepped into the bathroom. The thick glass ceiling above always excites you. It was such a crummy apartment, but it had its ups with this being one of them.

Julie's stickers covered the thick sides of her movable mirror. Her makeup bag was left open covered in eye shadow dust and glitter. A pack of eyelashes were left open on the top of the bag.

A little smudged message was left on the mirror written in red lipstick, reading:

You're beautiful, starshine!

Julie was a sweetheart. The rain had stopped, leaving a silence in the tall bathroom. With a turn of the faucet cold water rushed out from the shower head. The patter of water against ceramic filled the room. You stepped under the stream shivering as the droplets thudded against your skin.

Stepping out from the shower you dried yourself off and slipped into your change of clothes. You felt rejuvenated! As you stepped out of the bathroom, a voice called for you.

"Hi, Y/N. Would you like a snack?" Wally was standing in the kitchen with reddened eyes.

"What are you having?" You couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"A cut up apple. I couldn't think of anything better," he giggled, "I have a few extra?"

You accept the offered apples, "Thanks. I'm sure I forgot to eat with all the other things I also forgot."

"I'm sorry that's happening, it must be tough. Julie did say you were left without much to wear."

You groaned imagining Julie explaining things in detail as she usually would, "I'd rather not make it into a thing. It's just so weird to even consider what they're saying."

"I have a pack of unopened boxers. They may not fit perfectly, but they should help?" He smiled completely at ease.

"That's.. Ok. I couldn't accept that." As weird as it was to have your underwear stolen, Wally offering you some was even weirder.

"Oh, Ok. I'll hold it until you're ready." Wally walked off into his room leaving you in the kitchen.

You heaved a sigh as you leaned against the counter. The apple slices crunched as you bit into it. Each one refreshing and cold. You rinsed the plate in the sink and switched off the lights. You returned to your room, but stopped just short of the door.

It was cracked open. You were sure the door shut behind you when you stepped out. With a gentle push you opened the door further. When seeing nothing out of place you stepped in and shut the door behind you listening for that click of metal against wood. When you heard it you let go of the doorknob and hung up your towel to dry.

You looked around your room again looking over every little detail. The still tidy room was just as you left it. Plushies put away, paints organized, bed made, and the floor clean. Your eyes glanced over the basket on the floor and your heart skipped. Your head swiveled back as your eyes scanned it once more. Leaning down you picked at the shirt and pants shaking them out. A pair of socks fell from the pant leg, but nothing else. With dread it dawned on you. The panties you had worn not even an hour ago were missing.

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[Y/N]

Wally

[Wally]

Yes?

[Y/N]

Where are they?

[Wally]

Where is what?

[Y/N]

My panties

[Wally]

Stolen, I presume?

[Y/N]

By you

Where are they?

[Wally]

You're welcome to check my room, Y/N

Do you want to come in?

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You heard the music dip low in the furthest room. You heard the door click as the knob turned. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard him chuckle from deep within his room.

[backtothefanfiction]

The Dishwasher | tasm!peter imagine

Summery: sure he dresses up in a costume and goes and fights crime in the city, but god forbid your boyfriend actually loads the dishwasher.

A/N: there has been a lot of rage in our house over dishwashers and clean dishes lately.

“PETER PARKER!!! I SWEAR TO GOD, I AM GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FUCKING FACE!”

“What have I done now.” He innocently says as he comes to stand in the kitchen doorway. He’s already in his suit, his mask scrunched up in his hand.

“Uh uh. No.” You say, stepping forward to meet him, a face like thunder. “You have one job,” you say holding your finger up to him, “ONE JOB! In this house. I cook you dinner. I do your laundry for you. I clean the bathroom. Hoover the -entire- apartment. And all I ask in return is for you to do THE FUCKING DISHES BEFORE YOU GO OUT- IN YOUR STUPID SUIT-“

“It’s not stupid-“ he throws out but you cut him off and continue to talk over him.

“It’s one job Peter. ONE JOB. We even got you a fucking dishwasher so you wouldn’t have to spend ages washing up by hand and could go out on patrol sooner. I mean- COME ON!”

“Fine. FINE! I’ll do it!” He says, hands up placating you, just wishing you’d stop shouting at him.

You barely move as he gingerly steps around you, placing his mask on the kitchen side as he begins to reach for the days worth of dirty dishes stacked in the sink.

“Oh my god.” You sigh, your hands flying into your hair exasperatedly. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m loading the dishwasher.” He groans, annoyed at your micro managing.

“Peter, glasses do not go on the bottom!” He grumbles as he begins to move the glass onto the top rack instead. “When you put the glasses on the bottom, all the left over little bits of food on the plates end up sticking to the glasses and they don’t actually get clean.”

“Alright.” He huffs.

You watch as he then reaches for a small saucepan, also placing it onto the top tray. “Woah woah woah! What are you doing?!? Pans go on the bottom. Fuck Pete, no wonder half the glasses and bowls in the cupboard have crap dried to them. Did no one ever teach you how to load a dishwasher properly?”

“No, Aunt May always did the-“

“Nope. Nah uh. Don’t tell me you actually let that saint of a woman do everything for you when you have been more than capable to help out since you were 12 years old.”

He shied away from you guiltily. “She insisted.” He shrugged.

“No. No. That poor woman. Come here. Let me show you how to load a dishwasher properly so that you can do it every time we have dinner at her house for the rest of her life.”

You wish you could say that that was the very last time you nagged Peter about the dishwasher or how he loaded it. But unfortunately things with that man were never that simple. But no matter how hard he struggled with the simple task in his own home, he at least did do it at Aunt May’s house whenever you ate there, for the rest of her life.