#of course it doesn't make him think of his sweet little bun

[moon13dreams]

What if during the years Luo Binghe was in the Endless Abyss, Shen Qingqiu not only knelt at the sword mound, but he also started planting white lotuses around the Peak?

It would start slow, just a few lotuses appearing in places they hadn't before, but they were so sparse that no one really took much notice. If they did, who would complain? It was just a flower and a lovely one at that. Their Shizun surely wouldn't mind the sight of them. He had been so distraught after the conference... Best to not trouble him with something so inconsequential.

Slowly more and more of those lotuses began to pop up, spreading to every lake and pond on the Peak. That couldn't be an accident. Never had lotuses grown on Qing Jing Peak before. Perhaps their Shizun commissioned An Ding to plant the lotuses, but for what reason they didn't know. Their Shizun had developed more of an interest in beasts than flora, but even that passion was smothered by his grief. Whatever the reason for the flowers, they must be special.

It wasn't until Ning Yingying informed her shixiong that she had been assisting the Peak Lord in cultivating the lotuses, hoping that it would ease his troubled heart. He had lost his most favored disciple and even after a year, their Shizun still knelt every day at the sword mound when he wasn't avoiding the memories haunting him on the Peak (though they would never speak of such things around their Shizun out of courtesy).

And so, they said nothing about the lotuses. If gardening and caring for the flowers that overtook their lakes and ponds brought comfort to the grieving heart of their Shizun, who were they to rob him of it? He was still in mourning, but when they did chance at seeing him caring so tenderly for the blossoming lotuses, they could see a little bit of that old light return to him, even for just a moment.

At some point, even the common people in the surrounding villages began to whisper about the widow of Qing Jing Peak, endlessly beautiful in his mourning amongst the tall bamboo and pure as snow lotus blooms.

[lxvebun]

kiss it better!

synopsis: you know better than to try and hide your wounds from them, however small it may be know that they are more than ready to take care of you. Aka jjk boys caring for your injuries

buns notes: I had a part for Gojo and Nanami as well but found myself getting stuck on it. Perhaps they'll come later but for now enjoy Geto and Sukuna♡.

content:Geto/Sukuna x gender neutral reader. fluff/hurt comfort. Soft Defect/cultish!geto (idk what to call it jejjd just canon suguru) canon violence. Blood. Lovesick/soft ish sukuna as always🤭. Not entirely proofread I am sleepy. Eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes!!

Suguru

"Did you really think you could hide that from me, my darling?" Suguru coos. His voice deep and honeyed, overly thick and sweet as he tries to swallow down the urge to demand, to interrogate the cause of the gash on the side of your forehead.

It would do you no good to see that side of him, especially in this state you're in. Trying to hide the tiny rivers of blood trickling down your face, droplets sinking into the wooden floors beneath your feet. He doesn't want you to feel a sliver of fear anywhere near him.

And he's good usually at maintaining his composure. Even if his mind is already twisting into something darker and cruel. but God, the thought of someone, whether Human, Sorcerer, or curse hurting you makes him physically sick. The blood pooling in his mouth from biting his tongue does not help either.

"I'm okay, Suguru." you breathe out, a little labored, not necessarily from the dull ache on the side of your head.

You're not afraid of him, could never be, he's good to you and you see how hard he tries. Fragments of a younger, more carefree suguru slipping through at times. But something twists in your gut as the sparkle fades from his eyes and his gaze zeroes in on your injury. You know what goes on in his head. Thoughts as black and dark as spilled ink swallowing up all the light that left unless he pulls back quick enough. It's a venomous spiderweb that's hard to get out of

Fortunately, he does. Your voice luring him back almost like a Siren's whisper, from what's going on inside his head.

It takes him a few seconds to orientate himself. A few deep breaths and fluttering of eyelashes before he can tear his gaze away from the cut and look into your eyes.

Gentle and careful hands slide under your jaw. His tumb wiping away some of the blood. Rough hands still feeling light and safe. As if he were cradling a bird with a broken wing in his hands. 

(it makes you melt a little more into him.)

It's not a deep cut, not deep enough for stitches at least. It may leave a light scar unless he gets someone to heal it for you. Then again, you have refused that option in the past, trying to maintain somewhat of normality in your life

He can't blame you for that, but he's also not sure what to do..

"Tell me what you need, my darling." It comes out a little desperate

(As if he might succumb if you don't tell him what you desire right now)

"Help me clean up," you begin, knowing he wants to be with it every step of the way. To nurse you back to health "and then you can kiss it better for me while we watch some movies, hmm? :)"

He closes his eyes for a second, your head still cradled in his hands, his touch a bit more relaxed, a little less delicate but still comforting. And then he opens them again, a gentle smile playing on his lips, and the sparkle in his eyes reignited.

He's back

(If he notices the way your shoulders relax, he doesn't comment on it.)

"Of course, my love"

Sukuna

You know better than to hide your injuries from him. It would be foolish of you to even attempt to deceive him. You're part of him now, intertwined into his soul. He's mapped out every little detail of you. He picks up on the slightest shifts in your mood and tone. Hears the hitch in your breath if something surprises you, knows exactly how you achieved the seemingly random bruises on your legs and has memorized the healthy beating pattern of your heart. So even before you pushed open the heavy wooden doors to his chambers, he could hear your labored breathing and smell the blood staining your skin..

His voice booms around the chamber, as you finally open the door. It's loud and aggrivated. Shaking the walls. Dripping in venom and laced in a desperation only you'd be able to pick up on as he calls out Uraume's name. The sight of you bloodied and teary eyed is almost enough to make him fall to his knees. You don't know that his heart has molded into the shape of a chapel dedicated to you. Filled with every little detail of you. brimming with gold and laced with utter adoration and devotion. He'll kneel until his spine breaks and his knees crack against the floor below him if you'd just tell him who could possibly dare to do this to you

He lifts you up and carries you to his bed before his knees give out under him. His grip a little too tight, a little too bruising even for those few seconds. Afraid you'd slip right out of his arms if he doesn't hold you close enough. You can basically feel the blood boiling in his veins, turning into rivers of lava under his skin.

He doesn't make eye contact as he gently lays you down on the bed.

(Perhaps because you've always been good at reading him, perhaps because he'll fear what he'll do if he catches sight of anymore blood)

.....

The gash on your side is healing nicely, thank Uraume for their steady hands. Sukuna would have done it, but all his eyes would have focused on would be the blood staining your robes, trickling out of the wound in steady flows and your teary eyes. He wouldn't have been able to keep his touch delicate enough to heal you properly. Too engrossed in the thoughts of punishment and cruelty to keep the violence from bleeding into his touch. He'd never forgive himself if he'd hurt you. Even accidentally.

(He lost control once in the heat of passion. Kissed you a bit to roughly with sharpened teeth. It's nothing compared to what he can do. He is the king of curses after all. God to some, an abomination of nature to most. Still, He filed them down ever since.)

He made sure to stay and watch before he goes out and track down the filth that did this. He trusts Uraume, undoubtely so, but he wants to see Your wounds disappear and the blood wash off of your skin with his own eyes

Healing someone with a curse technique feels similar to getting stitches as the skin gets closed back together. He knows it's normal but Hells, every flinch, every little twitch you make as the skin heals make his hands itch to dig into the chest of whoever did this to you, ears already ringing at the begs and pleas for mercy and he personally deals with the parasite that dared to put their hands on someone even the king of curses himself bows down to.

How incredibly foolish of them.

"Well, that should be it" Uraume's voice snaps him out of his trance. He watches as they bow down to you, even after many many times of you telling them they don't have to and turn to him. "I'll go get some clean robes" bowing down once more, and leave the chambers.

The room falls silent again. He's becoming a little restless. Eyes trailing over your form before glancing at the door, going back and forth between you. Trying to decide what his next move should be

"Stay, please". You whisper. The adrenaline gone from your body

You make up his mind for him.

He's on you the second those words left your lips. His anger leaving him...for now. He keeps it at the back of his mind. Your wishes are more important than seeking revenge. Revenge can wait. You don't have to

He asks you how you're feeling as he wraps his arms around you, cradling your head to his chest as he lays down on the bed next to you. You make the mistake of being truthful

"Its a little sore-"

he's up again before you can even finish your sentence, ignoring the whine falling from your lips as he removes his arms from around you

"There should be some freshly gathered herbs in the kitchen today" he begins as lines it to the door

"Sukuna-"

"I can concoct something that should dull the soreness in a heartbeat-" his hand already on the door handle

"Ryomen."

He stops abruptly. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. Keeping his hand against the door. Waiting for you to finish your sentence

"I don't want a herbal concotion"

His brows furrow together, surprisingly cute for a being like him. He turns to you fully, slowly pacing back to the bed

"What is it that you desire then, my love?"

He almost sounds nervous, eyes wide and eager to hear of your demands so he can fullfill them. "Is there another potion you'd like, do you-" he begins to ramble again. You cut him off

"I think a kiss would be sufficient enough actually, my lord~♡"

His words die in his throat. Worry melting into a more stoic expression as he looks at you with what you can only describe as 'are you serious' Your laugh at the shift in his expression, gods that beautiful angelic sound, quickly breaks his into a gentle smile. Heart calming down.

"If thats what you need who am I to refuse?"

You look more than content, a state he wants to keep you in forever, as he leans over you on the bed. Matress bending under his weight as he places one hand next to your head, the other slowly cuping your face as he dips down to lock your lips with his

(He could kiss you forever, if you'd let him)

"Better?"

He doesn't bother to pull away, instead choosing to speak against your lips. Eyes soft and breath hot against you.

"I think I need a higher dosage actually~♡"

RAAAA thank you for reading angels!!♡

[werecreature-addicted]

Okay so I’ve had some ideas to share but I forgot them all :( BUT I do have one!!

A wolf x rabbit ship, super basic I know, but the wolf is absolutely obsessed with this one particular rabbit. He should eat it, he wants so badly to, but for some reason he just can’t bring himself to do it.

He won’t let any other wolf hurt his precious bunny, protecting him with soft (though engulfing, due to size difference) cuddles and nuzzles on the neck and just a bit (read: a lot~~) of nibbling, though done out of love!!

The rabbit is a quiet little thing, though not really shy. In fact, he is very extroverted, to the point it seems he lacks proper self-preservation instincts, but what does that matter when you have a feral wolf at your side!

It may get spicy, it may not, that’s not the important thing. The important thing is that this wolf, this predator, is completely infatuated with a member of its main prey species.

And yes, the wolf does still hunt, but other animals. He would never devour his cute sweet little bun, now would he? Does the bunny even stop to think about this, or does the wolf get cleaned up before going back to their den, so the bunny doesn’t suspect a thing??

And they are indeed both guys, just a little self-indulgent detail 💕💕💕

Big bad wolf keeping his sweet bunny far away from the rest of his pack. the others wouldn't understand his love, his obsession with this rabbit. He keeps you marked, scented, covered in his mark, and as clearly labeled as his as you can be, but he worries it's not enough. He worries that the other wolves would ignore his claim for an easy meal.

It gives him a heart attack how carefree and innocent you are, so willing to literally throw yourself to the wolves. He doesn't mind it if you get cozy and make friends with other prey animals, he might even let them live if they make you happy, but it's absolutely unacceptable for you to try and see another wolf. both for your own safety and for his jealousy.

Of course, he comes home covered in blood. if you ever ask he just tells you not to worry about it, he knows you're innocent but... you're not stupid right? you know he's a wolf and what he eats... right? better not burst your bubble if you're ignorant and if you do know, no need to start a fight or anything like that. no need to tell you he kills and eats cute rabbits just like you all the time.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

Accidentally courting bunny boys by nuzzling and sniffing them

Rabbits smell heavenly especially from the top of their head to the back of their neck. Of course Yuu didn't just start deeply huffing the bunbuns, they waited until their friendship reached a comfort level to do that.

But when it did? Oh boy

The bunnies are 100% ready to pop a ring the moment yuu snuggles them and inhales after having a long and stressful day.

Epel has already talked to his family about his new human friend. The farm is sunny and much more comfortable than living in NRC, plus meemaw is ready to propose to yuu to be their grand child in law if Epel takes too long.

Riddle on the other hand has to fight with himself mentally. Yes he loves them, yes he wants to marry them but he needs to approach this calmly. He needs to butter up his mother to have her approval. Yuu being considered 'exotic' can help balance out the fact that they're not nobility, and if that doesn't work maybe he can try baby trapping them to convince his mother to let him take responsibility. No he didn't actually do any trapping since they expected that after his heat, but his mother doesn't need to know that.

"-deeply huffing the bunbuns-" instantly gave me this mental image.

I've had buns but they never really smelled like anything unless their cage was stanky.

Anyways, the "-yuu snuggles them and inhales after having a long and stressful day." Makes me think of Yuu tiredly popping open the bun boy's uniform shirt buttons and burying their face into the chest floof before letting out a loud deep sniff and our boy his so flustered.

Riddle probably yells something about Yuu being indecent despite loving it. Epel is smug as hell and trying to act all cool and brags about how Yuu must "love his manly musk."

Riddle's mom is gonna be a bitch no matter who he gets with but having a human mate could look good to his mom, don't go thinking she's going to stay out of your guy's personal lives though. She's prob gonna want Yuu to get a makeover and do etiquette classes and ask about kids as soon as you're married, though obviously, you can't until he's done with school and working and expects abstinence until said marriage.

Epel's fam are the most sweet and chill people, gonna be asking about when he's going to bring Yuu home for a visit as soon as they find out about his little human friend.

They must feed the human and make them want to stay.

[pacifymebby]

What would each peaky boy be like with a wife who owns a bakery, one who pops round to meetings with fresh cakes and treats and stuff

This is a really cute request and really feeds my dream of having a bakery one day

Tommy

🌿 your bakery is quite small and easy to miss but once Tommy knows it's there tucked down a side street, pretty much just a hatch in the wall, he never goes a day without visiting

🌿 Always, no matter how busy he is, will take the time to stop by even if only for a second or two to say hello and pick up something to eat. You think he must really love your baking and he does think your breads the best he's ever had however, that's not the reason he stops by every day.

🌿 You'd joke about how he's going to eat you out of heart and home if he carries on like this and he'd very simply say, "Marry me love, then I won't have to will I..." Of course he's only teasing but the blush it paints on your cheeks is priceless and well, he does often wonder what it would be like to marry you.. no harm in putting the idea in your head.

🌿 He says the same thing every time you tease him for stopping by, which you do at least three times a week. It isn't that you're ungrateful for the business it's that you don't understand how a man as busy as Tommy Shelby has time to visit your little bakery every day and you don't understand why he'd want to.

🌿 this little routine, you teasing him, him making that joke, you blushing and going shy, carries on for months and months, it drags on so long that all your friends are certain he's not really joking, that perhaps Birmingham's most infamous has taken a liking to more than just your bread.

🌿 One day when he says it you smile, "if you keep saying that Mr Shelby one day I might just take you seriously..." And he pauses, mouth caught in a half smile, hands in his pockets as causal as you like he looks you up and down to work out whether you're teasing him. "And what would you say if you did?"

🌿 When you're married he'd help you set up a bigger bakery, hires you staff to help you run it, but you always keep your little shop too because that hatch in the wall holds a special place in both your hearts.

🌿 Whenever you think up a new recipe or you're experimenting with new flavours Tommy makes sure to be interested in what you're doing, listening to you when you tell him about your troubles "Thing is I don't know if it's salt I need, to bring out the sweetness, or if I'm just not using enough sugar and then there's the trouble with the Cherry jam it's too... Too..." "Jammy?" He'd tease, "wait no, too cherry flavoured eh, that it love?"

🌿 will be the first to try anything new recipe you've baked and will always give you an honest answer, unless somethings truly awful, then he won't tell you quite how bad it is because he doesn't want to break your heart.

🌿 He will try anything and everything you put in front of him but he has to admit his favourites are the more savoury treats you bake, anything with cheese is an instant hit with Tommy and sometimes, when he's had one of those weeks where he's stressed out, hardly eating at all, living off coffee whiskey and cigarettes, one of your cheese buns is the only thing that can tempt him to take his spectacles off for a moment, come out of his head and back down to earth, back to you.

🌿 Whenever there's a family meeting you always want to use it to get opinions on your baking so any new recipes are prepared specially for the family and you get in a real huff if anyone refuses to try your food... And Tommy always warns them in advance, threatening his brothers to "be fuckin nice yeah, try the cakes, be fuckin nice eh?"

🌿 Sometimes he brings Charlie into the bakery to see you and when you can tell that Tommy's particularly stressed you offer to take care of the young boy. He enjoys baking with you, making a mess with all the flour and sugar. He's your number one taste tester and every time he's in you get him to pick his favourite so that you can advertise whichever items he recommends as "recommended by little Charlie Shelby"

🌿 It sort of turns you into a bit of s matriarch within the family. Whenever anyone's having a party, whenever there's a birthday to prepare for, you're always kept busy baking cakes and sweet treats for the whole family. And when Charlie tells his cousins about the fun he has at the bakery they all want a turn decorating cakes and iced buns with you...

🌿 Tommy definitely falls in love with you a little more every time he drops into your little bakery in the late afternoon to pick his son up, to come face to face with your flour dusted features and your bright smile, watching you suck a little icing from your fingertip to test the sweetness.

🌿 He will almost always catch your hip in his hand, look down at you with longing in his eyes and murmur something sweet like "give us a try of that eh love..." sucking the icing straight from your pinky.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie has been coming to your bakery for a very long time, he remembers when your mother used to run things, remembers her Challah recipe by heart.

🐻 He would often turn up early in the morning before you were open, let himself in anyway and lean, white sleeves pushed up to the elbows against the counter waiting for you to turn up. "Thought you might fancy a little company this mornin miss y/l/n..." The first time he shows you're shocked and you can't hide it. You know he's infamous, a violent criminal who promises nothing but trouble... but you also know he's the baker of Camden town and that your mother was always quite fond of him...

🐻 So you can't turn him down. Not that anyone in their right mind would turn Alfie Solomons down...

🐻 You spend lots of time baking together in that kitchen, it's Alfie's favourite place to be, holed up cosy amid the yeasty smell of baking bread and the sweet scent of fresh pastries. He enjoys your company, enjoys getting close to you, using excuses such as "y'see ziskeit your problem yeahs, that you ain't leanin into it enough, you've gotta kneed with your whole body right, like this..." standing behind you, arms around your waist, kneeding the dough for you with you trapped between him and the counter watching him work.

🐻 You also have lots of little tiffs in the kitchen, him winding you up by putting things away in the wrong places or reorganising cupboards and shelves so that you don't know where any of your belongings are. Him getting tetchy with you when you insist you know a better recipe for something than he does.

🐻 However despite your tiffs Alfie never lets you talk yourself down... Whenever you have a new idea he's always quick to tell you you're a genius. Always calling you the cleverest girl in Camden town, always dramatically complimenting you. Even if something goes wrong, even if a cake isn't perfect or the bread you've baked doesn't quite rise properly he will hush any of your complaints with one finger to your lips, that contemplative frown on his brow

🐻 "Now just you mind what you're about to say yeah my little ziskeit, just you be very careful what words come out that pretty little mouth of yours next yeah because I've got somethin to say right... I've got something to say... This here yeah, it's bread right but... It don't feel right just calling it bread yeah, cause this here ain't any old bread, this bread right it's a fuckin work of art my little ziskeit, this bread right, it's a masterpiece, one of them modern wonders of the fuckin world right... So just you think very carefully yeah about what you're about to say..."

🐻 "Cause I won't put up with no bread slander today right, I've made up my mind and I just won't tolerate it..."

🐻 You teaching him how to delicately decorate cakes and pastries with ornate little designs. Him getting frustrated because his hands are too big and his fingers are a little too clumsy to master the finer details. You hugging him, kissing his cheek when you reassure him that his gingerbread men aren't "fackin elephant man ugly"

🐻 Your flower stained blush mirroring his flower stained blush when you both realise what you've just done.

🐻 When he's busy working all he wants is a visit from you and he always hopes you'll come down with something from the bakery. He literally sits there in his office pining for you and your "delights" as he calls them, and sometimes when you're late or you can't visit he sits there getting more and more grumpy, poor Ollie has to try and lighten the mood but just gets grumbled at.

🐻 And when you do come to visit Alfie at work he gets jealous when you bring stuff for the workers too and he chides you for "spoiling" them. He only does this because he loves the cheeky smile you give him as you sit down in his lap and offer him something sweet to try, "Don't worry Alfie I didn't forget about you..."

🐻 When he flees to Margate you open a bakery together on the seafront, he tends to hide away in the kitchen getting jealous when local boys come in and flirt with you, occasionally when he's feeling particularly protective he'll come out to spook them.

🐻 but for the most part that little bakery on the sea front is your own little slice of heaven, back in London he'd fed you the idea whenever you were getting worried about him and his business. Whenever you started to fear he was in too deep, making too much trouble for himself.

🐻 And now he's finally made good on that promise to you. It's just you, him and Cyril living a peaceful life together in Margate. The smell of freshly baked bread in the mornings, spending evenings together preparing the dough for the next day's batches.

🐻 You've definitely thrown a handful of flower at him multiple times, definitely "pied" him at least once for being a grumpy old martyr.

🐻 He's definitely given you that look, beckoned you over and instructed you to "clean up your mess now ziskeit, reckon you've had your fun with the fuckin creme patissiere..."

🐻 Scoops up said creme patissiere with his two fingers and feeds it to you, won't smile until your lips are closed round his fingers, your eyes locked with his.

Arthur

🍂 Sorry Arthur bby but...

🍂 I feel like he's a really messy eater, like he chews really gross and definitely talks with his mouth full... Crumbs everywhere, always spilling cream or jam down his shirt...

🍂 Which means you have to instruct him on how to eat your cakes and usually clean him up afterwards too. You have to break a piece of cake off for him and place some in his mouth giving him instructions "right close and chew..."

🍂 But no sooner has he closed his mouth and begun to chew is he forgetting himself again, opening his mouth to tell you how fucking lovely it is and you'd have to hush him up.

🍂 "Fuck me darlin this is fuckin delicious, fuckin heavenly..." he starts getting crumbs everywhere, you're watching exasperated but endeared all the same as he gets crumbs all over the floor and himself. You know there's nothing you can do about this.

🍂 You can't help laugh at him, he's so daft sometimes, doesn't seem to have any idea how funny he looks... But you get a cloth and wipe the cream from his mustache, giggling at him, him chuckling along too when he realises what he's done.

🍂 "Sorry love I can't help it, they taste so good I forget me manners..." "Excuses, excuses.." you tut only teasing him. He actually blushes.

🍂 Arthur loves your baking so much that whenever there's a family meeting he all but insists you bring sweet treats along for everyone.

🍂 "Please darlin I'm beggin you, how are we gonna survive Tommy's fuckin speeches without somethin to eat... He'll have us in there all night with nothin to eat... We'll starve if you don't bring us somethin sweet to eat..." he's so dramatic but you always comply, just rolling your eyes and teasing him. "God Arthur anyone would think you haven't just eaten five of these..." You grin packing tins full of pastries to take with you...

🍂 But he can't help it, he loves your baking and he loves you, thinks the sun shines out of you and your gifted hands so he wants to show off his talented girl and her delicious creations... Upon arriving he will very loudly announce that everyone needs to "fuckin shut up and listen to my Y/N cause she's brought everyone some new cakes to try and they're fuckin delicious..."

🍂 He'll make everyone try one, even Tommy and he'll glare at his brother until he says something nice about your baking.

🍂 "We're fuckin blessed right, to have such a fuckin talented baker in the family..."

🍂 You try to teach him to bake but honestly, he's clumsy, he makes a mess, he can't concentrate on the recipe because he's standing close to you and instead of having his hands in the mixing bowl he just keeps trying to grab you and hug you, can't keep his hands or his lips off you for long enough to get through even the most simple of cookie recipes.

🍂 Honestly if ever you've got something important to bake, a wedding or birthday cake, new stock for the shop you have to lock him out of the kitchen until you're done because he's too much of a distraction.

🍂 You have the fear whenever you're working on something delicate, you have to put signs on the doors reminding Arthur not to slam the doors when he comes home. When you hear him coming you brace yourself, hovering round your delicate creation, wincing when he forgets about not slamming the door.

🍂 "Arthur please my love!" "I know I know I'm sorry sweetheart I'll be careful" he says hands in the air all surrender and sweet, making an effort to tip toe and be careful, forgetting three seconds later much to your despair.

John

🌼 John gives me low-key earth sign vibes, not sun sign earth sign vibes but something else, like a moon perhaps? Anyway my point with that is that John definitely has a love of home comforts, mundane, little luxuries... He likes being spoiled with sweet treats. Likes coming home to find you baking with the little ones.

🌼 I mean he really loves it... There's nothing better than finishing a long day at the betting shop surrounded by drunk, rowdy men, to stop by the bakery on his way home only to find one of his children behind the counter, standing on a stool to help you serve customers. He can hear his other kids giggling in the kitchen and he practically jumps over the counter in excitement to see them and all the mischief they're getting up to whilst your backs turned.

🌼 Him asking for one of your finest cakes, and then when Katy holds her hand out to take his money he grins and says "Well y'see kitty my little love, I spent my last penny on flowers for your mammy so Daddy was hoping he could pay with a kiss eh?"

🌼 When she agrees she's very cheeky, she sighs dramatically and says "fine but just this once..." and when he scoops her up and kisses her cheek about to take the cake from her hand she holds it back and says "one more for mammy."

🌼 So he slips behind the counter and slinks his arm around your waist pulling you away from your work to give you a very dragged out, much needed kiss. The kind he really shouldn't be giving you in front of the customers... Not when there's a queue.

🌼 You shoo him away so that you can get back to work telling him to go and sort his little hellraisers out in the kitchen.

🌼 But John doesn't want you to "get back to work" and so once he's rounded the terrors up and helped them clean up their mess in the kitchen he's right back ar your side, gruffly announcing to the line of customers that the bakeries closed and it's time to go home. Each and every one of your attempts at protest is silenced with a kiss and when you open your mouth to argue with him about it again he takes one of the cakes from the counter and puts it in your mouth to silence you so that in your shock there's nothing for you to do but take a bite, chew and cover your mouth to hide your messy giggle.

🌼 "Can't bloody believe you John Shelby! You're a bloody n..." "Irresistible, devilishly handsome, doting husband? I know love you don't need to tell me..." he teases taking the cake from your hands and helping himself to a bite. "Come along flower, we're all waiting for you, we wanna go home..."

🌼 And when faced with John and the wide doe eyes of all your little ones looking like angels now that dad's come and got them into shape... Well you can hardly refuse them.

🌼 Uses "Teach me how to bake love..." as a premise to get some time with you whilst you're working, his minds really not on baking though he is thinking of putting one in the oven...

🌼 At least one of your children have been conceived in that kitchen...

🌼 When you bring the children with you to family meetings so they can give everyone the cupcakes they made, John gives his brothers warning looks like "you will eat these very girly lookin cupcakes and you will tell my girls they're the best thing you've ever eaten!" he makes a big song and dance of telling everyone how amazing they taste.

🌼 Has started food fights in the kitchen with the kids. Has started food fights with his brothers at family meetings because he wasn't satisfied with Tommy's "wow Katy these are really good..."

🌼 Has definitely defused an argument with you by putting a handful of batter in your hand and instructing you to throw it at him. "C'mon flower, you're pissed off with me ain't you, fuckin throw it if you think I deserve it..." then being shocked and a little bit wounded when you actually do throw it... Arms around you immediately play wrestling with you to get his revenge.

🌼 And this usually ends up with the two of you kissing, wiping cake mix from one another's faces, closing the kitchen door so that your customers can't hear how you really resolve a fight...

🌼 Always making special requests, his favourite things you bake are your berry pies and he gets such a huff on when you inform him that you can't make anymore because the berries in question are out of season anymore. "Fuck the seasons.." gets genuinely cross he can't peaky blinder style intimidate the literal seasons.

Bonnie

🍀 It's unsurprising that Bonnie has quite the appetite considering a) he's a growing lad, and b) he's a boxer, always training, always exhausting himself in the ring...

🍀And yet once he finds your bakery, he's never too tired to stop in after a long day training, and you can't deny you don't look forward to seeing that oh so slightly mischievous smile every evening... so much so that sometimes you stay open just waiting for him to drop by.

🍀 He's always very sweet to you, always leans on the counter chatting away to you whilst he eats the sweet buns you save especially for him... It takes him a little while to realise that's what you're doing but when he works it out, that you hold treats back for him and you even stay open a little later waiting just for him he becomes a butterfly filled mess. Feels really proud, starts cheekily calling you things like "my favourite girl"

🍀then he starts stopping in early too, gets up at the crack of dawn just so he can drop by your bakery on his way to the boxing gym. He uses the excuse that he's hungry, that he needs to fuel himself up for the day but really it's because he wants to see more of you. Wants to get you alone.

🍀He joins you in the kitchen, sometimes helping you out, sometimes just sitting on the counter admiring you whilst you work, being a pest getting his fingers in the jam, pinching the strawberries you've carefully halved to top your pastries.

🍀 You're constantly swatting his hands away and threatening to kick him out but by now you both know you never will. That little crush you thought you might have on the young boxer has flourished and you wake up every morning looking forward to seeing him. In the hours between him leaving in the morning and returning to you after training your little bakery feels so empty and lonely without him.

🍀When he pinches some cherries from the top of one of your pies you gasp in frustration about to give him a scolding but when he sees you, your cheeks flushed that glow of annoyance in your eyes he can't help chuckling at you, telling you he's sorry, saying "c'mere dove, I'll share..." youre about to refuse when you catch the pining look in his eyes, the way he looks at you with such a quiet pining... it lights sparks inside you, leaves your heart racing, makes you feel very forgiving.

🍀So you give in and roll your eyes, say fine, come on share then... and though you expect him to place a cherry in your palm instead he plucks one from the stem and pushes it to your lips, watching you breathlessly as you take it in your mouth and sink your teeth into it. A little juice escapes your mouth and stains your lips and the corner of your mouth deep, sweet red.

🍀And he leans in without even thinking about it, kisses the corner of your mouth to catch the juice before it can trickle further and make a mess of your pretty face.

🍀You don't get much baking done after that and the cherry pie youd been labouring over is left forgotten about on the side whilst you and Bonnie get thoroughly lost in eachother.

🍀From then on Bonnie stops in on you twice a day every day, he walks you to and from the bakery morning and night and quite often makes up excuses to bring you back to the caravans at night. The first time you meet his family you're so nervous, wanting to impress them, the way Bonnie's been spending all his time outside the gym "elsewhere" people have begun to talk and so everyone is curious to meet the girl who has stolen his heart.

🍀You bake plenty of delicious buns and breads to gift them trying to make a good first impression and Bonnie is insistent that you really shouldn't have done, that they'll love you regardless of whether you bribe them with food, but secretly he just wants to keep you and your baked goods all to himself. "If everyone knows how good these are they'll all be coming here and then there'll be none left for me!" He says taking another bite from his second cinnamon bun of the afternoon.

🍀He stops talking however when you catch the stray icing hes got on his cheek and suck it off your finger, "Don't be daft Bonnie, I'll always save enough for you."

🍀He goes foraging for berries and fruits, always bringing you wild herbs he's picked that he thinks you'll be able to do something good with, sprigs of lavender and such to weave into your more intricate designs. His favourite thing however is to convince you to close up shop for the day and go foraging with him, taking you out into the country on the back of his pony, showing you all the best places to find your favourite herbs and flowers.

🍀 Pulling you down into the long grass beneath the trees, cradling you in his lap after a long walk, smothering you in kisses and affection.

Isaiah

🐀 Being the quiet, earthy homebody that you are you're not exactly Isaiah's type. He wouldn't even have met you had it not been for Michael dragging him out to your bakery one morning, insisting that you bake the best pastries in town.

🐀 And at first Isaiah is cynical, "fuckin pastries for breakfast are you soft lad, you eat fuckin pastries for breakfast... Them toffs who raised you really mess with your head didn't..." he's still taking the piss out of Michael when they walk into your bakery but one look at you steals the end of his sentence straight from his lips.

🐀 Because even with a light dusting of flour over your nose, your cheeks rosy from the heat of the oven, stray hairs escaping your pretty little hair scarf, he thinks youre the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on and suddenly he's swallowing all his snide remarks.

🐀 and suddenly he's a little embarrassed, a little uncertain of himself because he's realised he's out of his depth when he wants to charm you. You're so different from the other girls in his life that he just doesn't know what to say to you.

🐀 "Would you like to try something sir?" You ask, your softness literally melting Isaiah. Michael is just sniggering a little smug because he'd known this would happen all along. This was his plan all along.

🐀 And then Isaiah realises that if he plays up to being clueless you will give him all the attention he desires offering for him to try different things, explaining what each item is...

🐀 You're surprised when Isaiah comes back the next day without Michael, you honestly weren't expecting to ever see him again.. it was clear to you that the bars and clubs were more his scene, that he'd choose whiskey and dancing over tea and cake anyday... But clearly Isaiah has his heart on the best of both worlds, he goes out at night with the peaky lads, raises hell and then visits you to see the soothing sight of your angel face every morning.

🐀 His curiosity impresses you though and every morning you pick something out special for him to try... You've heard what he gets up to on his Saturday nights and on Sunday morning you make sure you've got just the right cure for his sore head and jaded eyes.

🐀 Then one morning he doesn't show and you begin to worry about him, when Michael drops by you ask after his friend and though at first Michael laughs, giddy with mischievous excitement when he realises his friends been visiting the sweet little baker every morning... Then however he tells you Isaiah's in the hospital, got caught up in some unpleasant business. He doesn't tell you it's Peaky Blinders business but you know what he means...

Michael

🐀 And you're horrified to learn that the charming Peaky boy you'd grown rather fond of is hurt, so you beg Michael to take you to see Isaiah in the hospital. Michael genuinely can't hide his amusement as you busy yourself making up a basket of sweet and savoury treats for Isaiah, he's just watching you fuss over the hardened peaky lad, can't wait to rip the piss out of his friend who's clearly got an admirer.

🐀 And when you turn up at the hospital placing the basket down at Isaiah's bedside he's shocked... A little embarrassed at the way his attachment to you has been revealed so dramatically. But he's also touched, also beginning to realise how nice it is to have some consistency, how much he loves having someone so homely and comforting to take care of him.

🐀 So he invites you to stay, tells Michael to piss off and he lets you feed him one of the sweet buns you brought him. He's being extra charming, flirting with you, teasing you for your having visited him... "Anyone would think you were me girlfriend coming here an spoilin me like this darlin..."

🐀 You're speechless, you don't know what to say to him but you get very flustered and he thinks that's adorable so he puts you out of your misery very quickly, "can't say I'd mind that me like, havin you as me girlfriend... Lookin after me when I've been through the wars..." "If you want to be my boyfriend Isaiah Jesus you'll have to stop all this scrapping... I don't want to spend every Sunday in the hospital with you..."

🐀 But of course it's not the last time Isaiah winds up in the hospital and every time he does you bring him a basket of sweet treats... It makes him rather popular with the rest of the peaky boys who start dropping in on him much more often so that they can pinch treats from that basket when he isn't looking.

🐀 He asks you to teach him how to bake but much like John he can't keep his hands off you for long enough to learn. He does have quite nimble hands though and so eventually he gets very good at plaiting bread dough with you.

🐀 He's always bragging to Michael and Bonnie about you, he'll bring something from the bakery down to the Shelby offices or the boxing gym just so that he can eat it slowly taunting them about how good it is. "Ah ah boys hands off, my girl made this one just for me..."

☘️ You're so stubborn though he realises this is an argument he's not going to win so eventually he settles for a compromise. You can keep your bakery, keep your little business as long as he can be involved somehow. So he insists on helping with your accounts and being involved in the financial side of things... which you're really rather pleased about as you've never liked running the accounts, numbers aren't your friend and you find it so dull being stuck at a desk when all you want is to be in the kitchen.

☘️ Isn't happy that his girl has a job... he should be able to provide for both of you, he earns enough to spoil you rotten and yet you still insist upon working in that bakery.

☘️ But before you met Michael that bakery was your whole life, you've worked so hard to have a bakery all of your own, to have a business that belongs to you, to be able to make a living from something you love and you're not about to give that up for Michael just because he doesn't understand how much your work means to you...

☘️ And when Michael gets involved with the bakery and you begin to work at it together to grow the business you start trying to use it as a pitch to convince him to go straight, to leave his brothers corruption behind and settle for a humble but comfortable life, a safe life with you.

☘️ Of course that never works, Michael has ideas beyond his station, he likes the luxury which comes with being a gangster, he's enamoured by the glamour and fame which comes with being a Peaky Blinder...

☘️ Instead what ends up happening is that your bakery gets dragged into the Shelby business... When the lads hear about the delicious treats you bake they start coming up with excuses to hold their business meetings in your kitchen where they have access to all the delightful treats you bake fresh from the oven. But they're all so charming and Michael never lets them get up to any trouble so you grow quote fond of having them around.

☘️ You're very dedicated to your craft and Michael gets frustrated when sometimes he feels you pay more attention to bread than to him. He will tell you he's taking you out for dinner, ask you to be ready by seven and then find that you aren't even home... When he goes to find you at the bakery youre dusted head to toe in flower, nowhere near suitably dressed up to go to some fancy restaurant.

☘️ And you always look so genuine when you gasp and apologise for having lost track of time, when you start ranting about how you were just desperately trying to perfect this recipe, that you'd tried one idea and almost set fire to the kitchen so had had to start again, then you'd tried this other idea and it was almost right but not quite and that well, you really just wanted to perfect it so that you could bring it home for him to try because you wanted it to be perfect for him...

☘️ Well he thinks you're the sweetest girl in the world and he can't stay mad at you for very long. He loves that at the end of all that you were actually thinking about him all along, trying to bake the perfect treat just for him... He loves that you wanted it to be perfect for him, it makes him feel really special.

☘️ "Ah well never mind eh love," he sighs taking your cheeks in his hands to brush the flower from your face and kiss your nose, "the corrinthian can wait eh, got everything I need right here..."

☘️ He'll even try to help you with your projects sometimes even though he really doesn't like getting his hands dirty. He'll do it for you, just as long as no one else is around to see him doing some "real work"

☘️ Loves being spoilt by you, loves that you value his opinion above everyone else's. Gets a little wounded when you want to take something to a family meeting to ask everyone to try because "my opinion not good enough for you now love?"

☘️ You always have to pacify him with a kiss and a reminder that his opinion is of course the most important.

Taglist:

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@cocoaflowers

@zablife

@jomarch-wannabe

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbywhore

@kas3ylovesyou

@kxnnxy

@starrykitn

@call-sign-shark

@only-malala

@liliac-dreamer

@impossibleheartflower

@mollybegger-blog

[nightttoon]

Who fell first/who fell harder? Love language. Pet names.

Revali:

He fell first, but you fell harder. It wasn't obvious at first, but the way he looked at people, who you spend a lot of time with, who made you laugh. He was sooo jealous. Spinning around you, showing why he is better option then guy you just talked to.

His love language is quality time. He is ready to spend every minute with you, showing off or just talking. At first you will think he is just annoying as hell, but after some talks he would find way to make you comfortable. Even if it means that he should ask someone about things you like.

Pet names, huh? "Darling, sweetheart, little sparrow, birdie". (No one can change my mind:) And it doesn't really matter if you aren't rito)

Sidon:

You fell first, but he fell harder. This man told you about his feelings as soon as they appeared, so no way you won't know about that. And he never would be ashamed!

His love language is physical contact. Really. Every time you are around he is so touchy! Hugs, kisses, everything is here. He would literally hold onto your then he is sad. (You'll get double of that if it's Sidon+Yona)

Pet names are difficult... Probably "Sunshine, pearl, love, my queen" and something like that.

Daruk:

He fell first, but you fell harder. It's a little complicated with him. He fell first, but it took some time to understand that. Probably someone from his fellow champions pointed at his affection towards you (he talked about you so much that others knew your favorite color and what is your favorite place in Hyrule) and it clicked.

His love language is quality time. Literally spending every second of his free time with you! But of course if you are comfortable with that. He knows then to stop.

He uses: "love, babe, jem, sweet cheeks" as nicknames for you. Sometimes "honey bun", telling you that you are as sweet as one.

Yunobo:

He fell first and he fell harder. It's just the way he is. So sweet and cute. He cares about you deeply, and was so nervous to tell you what he feels, because he was scared he would ruin your friendship. (You probably was the first one to confess)

Gifts! And a lot! Yeah. His love language is gift giving. He remembers every little thing that you mentioned in your talks, or you looked a little too long at market. And he will get it for you! He wants to make you happy! But if you do the same he would be so embarrassed to take something from you!

Can "goro" be called pet name? I think yes. If we talk about another options... "Sweetheart, my love, ruby (Yeah. Goron Ruby), baby, sunshine" will work, along with every sweet name he would master at moment.

Female characters here!

And my requests are open!

[miasmaghoul]

Dessert First

Kinktober '24: Day 1 - Foreplay

Pairing: Swiss/Cumulus

Rating: E

W/C: ~1.8k

Contains: flirting, intentionally cheesy and mostly food-based banter, making out, groping, heavy petting, fingering without penetration, (Cumulus has a big clit pass it on)

Huge shoutout to @kroas-adtam for this year's prompts!

“You're so fuckin’ pretty.”

Cumulus blinks, leans back to look out the hotel bathroom door with a raised eyebrow. Swiss grins at her, offers a wink and a little finger wave. He's laid out on his side on the bed closest to her, head propped up on one hand, the picture of relaxation in a pair of worn flannel pants and nothing else. Cumulus looks at her reflection in the wall-sized mirror; she's fresh from a too-hot shower, face still flushed and curls pulled up into the messiest approximation of a bun she could manage. Dressed in an old pair of Aether's boxers and an oversized tee, toothbrush still in her mouth, she can't imagine pretty is the word for her right now. She gives him a soft snort as toothpaste dribbles down her chin, but Swiss doesn't seem put out in the least. 

“I mean it,” he assures as she spits into the sink, rinsing with a handful of water. She hears the mattress creak, the dull thud of footsteps on low-pile carpet, and as she straightens up strong arms loop around her waist. “You're gorgeous, Lu.” Swiss plants a kiss on top of her head before resting his chin there, smiles at their reflection, and it's so infectious that Cumulus finds herself smirking too.

Read the rest below, or on AO3!

“Sweet talker,” she accuses, and Swiss doesn't even try to deny it. She sighs, letting her head rest against his broad chest. Breathes in the fading aroma of his spicy cologne and the lingering remnants of the joint they'd shared before her shower. A moment of quiet peace, interrupted only by the distant hum of the air conditioner. 

A moment is all she gets, of course - this is Swiss, after all. It's no surprise that his hands go from holding to fondling, a broad palm pressing into the softness of her belly and skilled fingers teasing the curve of her hip. Cumulus gives the back of one hand a gentle smack, rolls her eyes as she goes back to brushing her teeth. 

Swiss, never one to be dissuaded, occupies himself with the self-imposed task of feeling up every inch of her he can reach. Her stomach and hips, her thick thighs and unbound breasts. They may sag without a bra, but she's yet to have any complaints. Least of all from the ghoul at her back, whose half-chub is currently pressed up against the cleft of her ass while he cups her tits through her shirt. 

“So warm,” he muses, stubble grazing her throat when he leans down to kiss behind her ear. “Startin’ to think I should've joined you after all.” Cumulus rinses one more time, shaking off her toothbrush and tucking it into its case as Swiss casually rolls her stiffening nipples between his fingers. 

“It's not my fault you couldn't take the heat,” the ghoulette smirks, reaching for her nightly facial moisturizer. “You know it's boiling or nothing.”

Cumulus gasps as she squeezes some cream onto her palm, a response to Swiss dragging the tip of his tongue down her throat. He follows it with a nip to the spot where it meets her shoulder, and Cumulus shivers as she applies her lotion. 

“‘Scuse me for not wanting to turn to soup.” Swiss tucks a finger into the collar of her tee, tugging it to the side to trail kisses down to her shoulder and back again. He presses his nose to her skin, taking a deep inhale. “You smell like…what is that, cupcakes?”

“Vanilla, coconut and shea butter,” Cumulus corrects, but Swiss isn't exactly wrong. She knows she smells good enough to eat - insists on it always - and judging by the way Swiss throbs when he sniffs at her, he agrees. The ghoulette snorts. “Y’know," she teases, wiggling her ass just because she can, "you're awfully hard for a guy who said he'd be asleep before I even got soaped up.”

Swiss grunts, gives her nipples a pair of firm plucks that make Cumulus gasp. 

“Can you blame me when you look like this?” 

One hand remains on her breast, but the other moves to rub slow circles into her belly. It drags her shirt up, exposes pale skin decorated with the prettiest stretch marks. His fingers slip under the fabric to trace a pair of them, ticklish, soft flesh twitching under his touch. Cumulus bites the inside of her cheek to hold in the sound that tries to escape her, resting back against his chest with a soft sigh. 

“I bet you say that to all the ghouls.”

Swiss smiles at her in the mirror, cheeks dimpled

“You callin’ me easy?” 

She flashes him a grin, tongue poking between gapped teeth, and a quick burst of want flows through her pelvis.

“No, I'm calling you a slut!”

Swiss gives her the most offended look, but it's betrayed by the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. It's a shimmer the ghoulette is all too familiar with, and with a giggle Cumulus reaches up to poke him in the cheek. 

“C'mon, playboy,” she coos, “it's past our bedtime.”

The ghoulette squeals when, with unnatural speed, Swiss’ groping hands move to spin her around at the waist and hoist her up onto the vanity. He spreads her thighs and crowds in close, Cumulus’ tired eyes going wide as toiletries fall over all around her. Swiss plants his palms on the countertop, leans in until they're nose to nose, and when he licks his lips it's the ghoulette's turn to throb. 

“What about my midnight snack?” 

Rough fingertips find her leg, drag over the exposed skin of her knee and along her plush inner thigh. Swiss’ eyes never leave hers as he slides them upward, digits disappearing into the leg of her boxers. 

“Don't want me to go to bed hungry, do you?” He leans in closer, until she can smell the weed on his breath. “Cupcake?”

Swiss winks, clicks his tongue, and Cumulus’ eyes flutter when his probing touch finally reaches her most tender of places. A single finger teases her folds, Swiss’ cock visibly flexing in his pajama pants when he finds the beginnings of slickness there. The ghoulette lets her shoulders sag, reaching up to get small, soft hands on his chest. 

“Cupcake, huh?” 

Cumulus’ mouth curls up at one corner as her fingers glide through his chest hair. Manicured nails scratch over muscled shoulders until she can cross her arms around Swiss’ neck, and the ghoulette's lips part when he circles her clit with the tip of that slippery digit. They're so close now, Swiss’ mustache tickling her upper lip with every passing breath. His other hand moves to caress her cheek, knuckles tracing the soft line of her jaw, and Cumulus licks at one when it follows the curve of her lower lip. She lets her legs fall further apart, gives Swiss space to slip a second exploratory finger between long lips, and the pair of them groan when her clit twitches.

“Well, you have been a good boy tonight,” she lilts, low, and a dark spot blooms near Swiss’ waistband. “I suppose you deserve a treat.” 

The ghoulette closes the gap between them, and Swiss has his tongue in her mouth before their lips even meet. Not that she minds, of course - it's easier to suck on that way. 

She loves when Swiss gets like this; it's slow and decadent, messy in the best way. Cumulus hooks a leg around his hip and the ghoul groans into her mouth, oh-so-gently pinching her clit. She shivers with every touch, dragging her nails across his shoulders until she can get both hands in Swiss' hair.  

All the while, Swiss’ probing fingers grow slicker and slicker. He doesn't slip them inside, not yet - just takes his time petting from her clit to her pucker and back again until every part of her swollen sex slips through his fingers with no resistance. Only then does he break the kiss, still holding her face, a string of saliva stretching between their reddened lips. 

“You're so wet,” Swiss rasps, as though she can't hear the evidence of that herself. Can't feel the dampness soaking into her boxers, no doubt leaving a sticky spot on the stone counter below. Cumulus huffs, leans in to give his lip a tug with blunt teeth. 

“Of course,” she trills. “The best part of a cupcake is always the frosting.”

She's sure that the way Swiss drools and humps the edge of the counter is involuntary, but it still makes her stomach swoop. 

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, voice gone thick. “Can never have enough, myself.”

The very tip of one digit teases her entrance, and Cumulus lets out a soft oh. 

“Sometimes I just eat it with my fingers.”

The ghoulette sighs when Swiss pulls his hand away entirely, dragging the backs of his fingers along her thigh and leaving a shiny trail behind. He holds them up to the light, stretches her slick between them, and Swiss’ eyes roll back when he licks them clean. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he moans, unabashed, and if Cumulus wasn't wet before, well…

“Plenty more where that came from, sugar,” the ghoulette breathes, buzzing all over. “You shouldn't let it go to waste.” 

Swiss doesn't need to be told twice. In no time he's gotten her out of those boxers and dragged her ass to the edge of the counter, kneeling before her with those glorious thighs hugging his ears. The ghoul looks up at her with dark, hungry eyes, and her fat clit pulses.

“Go on, baby,” she murmurs, sinking her fingers back into his tight curls. Cumulus’ other hand wanders up her shirt, finds a taut nipple to play with as Swiss reaches around her legs to spread her open with both thumbs. “Do a good job and maybe I'll let you turn me into a Twinkie instead.” 

She winks, Swiss’ entire body spasms, and with a deep, deep groan he sinks his teeth into the meat of her thigh. Sucks in a mark that she can already tell will be the loveliest shade of purple come morning. He laves at the dents his teeth leave behind, staring only at the place she's gone all pink and puffy. Her clit stands at attention, so stiff the hood has slid back nearly all the way.

“If you do,” Swiss rumbles, kissing up to the crease of her hip, gaze heavy, “then I can lick out the cream filling.” 

The ghoul’s golden eyes flash, and Cumulus throbs hard when his unglamoured tongue rolls from his mouth. He drags it through the damp curls surrounding her twitching length - so big and excited now that Swiss could probably suck it like a cock if she asked him to - and when the forked tip of that devilish tongue grazes the base it throbs so hard her thighs shake. Cumulus sags back against the mirror, crosses her ankles behind Swiss’ back, and gives him her darkest eyes and sweetest smile. 

“Only if you promise to feed it to me after.”

[archive-of-alexandria]

Mind Your Manners (Sanji X Reader)

A/N: ITS KINKTOBER! I have it in my head that head-over-heels, perverted Sanji would absolutely give the Reader snacks or food that are just a little bit too messy as an excuse to watch them clean up after themself and I just had to write it out. Kinda feels yandere? Smutty Food Play, because I haven't seen enough kinky Sanji action on here. xx

Sanji knows better than to play with his food. However, the way you're sitting at the dining table - pretty legs tucked up underneath you and breasts pressed together as you lean on your elbows - makes him think that he may have to make an exception.

Sanji's rule about manners doesn't extend to you, however.

No.

Sanji goes out of his way to ensure that you'll make a mess in his kitchen.

Back during the summer months, the Going Merry had made a pitstop at an island known for their enormous strawberries. Sanji had been eager to try his hand at pastries for a change - tarts, pies, the works - and the gargantuan summertime fruits seemed the perfect challenge.

A challenge the cook didn't anticipate, however, was finding you elbow-deep in the barrel of harvested berries that same evening, caught literally red-handed from the saccharine juices that dripped from your fingertips to the floor with a heavy tap tap tap.

The sight was enough to make his heart nearly stop.

Your eyes had been wide and your flushed cheeks were even wider, stuffed with sweet fruit as juice covered your face and hands...and every bit of you was dripping. Sanji had been unsure of where to look and his eyes darted between your slick fingers, your shy expression, and your perfectly tinted, glossy lips. He had never seen a more heavenly sight.

In his mind, nothing could ever compare...until your tongue ran along the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to clean yourself.

In the darkness of his room, Sanji thought about that tease of a tongue for weeks afterward.

Ever since then, he has taken extra care to make sure that you're given the messiest meals he can make. They're not gross, of course - Sanji is a chef first and a lover second. No, they're not gross. They are delectable. Every hum of enjoyment, every slurp, every squish...Sanji would lie awake in bed and dream of the different foods he wished to cover you in, if only just to watch you lick it up.

You had offered to help him make cinnamon buns one morning - though not without taking a generous helping of frosting on your finger and sucking it clean. "Labor tax", you joked with a wink. The image of your tongue licking the sinful-looking sweetness from your finger, mingled with your contented sigh, was seared into Sanji's brain from that moment forward.

Sanji became obsessed with watching you eat.

Food has always been an extension of Sanji's love for his crew and an expression of devotion. The act of cooking is artistic, and the act of eating is intimate. Hell, the kitchen itself is a lesson in foreplay: the preparation, the getting hands dirty, the building heat, the waiting game...all leading to a very satisfying end.

If only Sanji's cooking prowess had an excuse to leave the kitchen and move into the bedroom.

Sanji has yet to make his cake and eat it too in the ways of romance, though it would seem that you have recently taken a keen interest in his particular set of skills. The cook has noticed an increasing frequency of your kitchen visits, observing the way your eyes seem to latch to his hands and arms as he works. You've grown bolder, assisting him in his preparations and letting your elbows brush up against one another.

Sanji relishes the days you ask for his help and he nestles you between his body and the table, guiding your hands in his much larger ones.

The cook has grown bolder too, sometimes pressing too tightly against your back to allow his front to press up against your firm bottom as he huskily mumbles praises in your ear. He swears, sometimes, he can feel you lean into him.

The kitchen is the way to Sanji's heart, and he hopes that it may be the way into your bed.

And here you were, seated at his table awaiting the meal he had promised to cook for you once the Going Merry restocked at port.

As Sanji wipes down his cooking station, he lets his eyes drink you in without shame. Your breasts are practically falling from your tattered blouse, soft pillows highlighted by the dim candlelight of the galley. You're playing with your fingers, unaware of Sanji's gaze. He smirks.

"Sanji," You sigh, flushing pink as you look up to meet his gaze already set upon you,

"Is it almost ready?"

He chuckles, crossing his arms.

"My sweet girl is hungry, hm?" He muses, tossing his dishrag over his shoulder,

"Just a few more minutes, love."

"Wha-? But-!"

"You can't rush perfection now, can you?"

"Sanji," You whine, wiggling in your seat. His eyes once again meet your chest.

"If I had known it was going to take this long I would have taken up Zoro's offer to go to the pub."

Sanji stiffens.

The chef stands to his full height, a cigarette appearing between his tight-pressed lips as he turns from you to check on the pot simmering on the stove.

You, however, hold your ground.

It's silent.

"I didn't know you and mosshead had plans."

Sanji's voice is low. Much too low, and empty. It unsettles you.

"San-"

"-It's ready."

In a manner much too abrupt for the usually smitten Sanji, a steaming bowl is placed before you with an alarming thud. The spoon rattles in reaction to his aggressive delivery.

The enticing smell of the ramen can't mask the uneasy way Sanji stands perfectly still in front of you, face shrouded in shadow except for the blazing butt of his cigarette.

You're unsure of where to look, splitting your attention between the meal before you and the man hovering above the table. Sanji makes the decision for you.

"You were so hungry just a moment ago," he quips,

"So eat up."

You swallow, heat pooling in your cheeks and between your legs. This was nothing but the "Zoro effect" on Sanji, as you and Nami call it. Gingerly, you take hold of the spoon. Peering into the bowl, the meal looks heavenly - though you're soon aware of the way your hair keeps falling into your eyes, threatening to become part of the soup.

Your hair had grown long during the months at sea, and you had unwillingly lent Usopp your last bauble for slingshot practice. Your frustration doesn't go unnoticed.

“Here, my darling,” Sanji hummed, circling the table until he was behind you, “Let me help.”

At this moment, Sanji feels dangerous.

Your body erupts with heat as the cook looms behind you, your eyes glued to the steaming bowl of soup displayed before you. The galley feels all too warm, and the meal before you begins to feel more like a test - a challenge - rather than a token of whatever unspoken feelings float between you and Sanji.

Without another word, Sanji’s cold fingers glide along your feverish neck, scooping up your hair in their wake. He gives his wrist a well-practiced twist, eliciting a gasp from your lips at the feeling of your hair pulled taught in his grasp. Sanji feels his ego swell, giving your hair a sharp tug. Your head is thrown back as he lowers himself to your ear.

"Go on," His scruff grazes you, and your skin is suddenly on fire.

"Eat."

Heat floods through Sanji as he watches the way your neck moves as you swallow, nodding at his command. He eases up on his grip and observes the timid way you scoop the broth into your mouth.

He catches the way your eyelids flutter closed at the taste of his meal. You liked it. You always liked his food.

Tonight, simply liking wasn't enough.

"Eating so silently? Don't you know it's rude to the chef?"

Sanji's eyes darken as your fingers twitch on the tabletop. So, he muses to himself, you think you would get away that easily?

"Don't you like it?"

"S-Sanji-"

"Don't use your words, pet. Just enjoy."

From above, he watches as the plush peaks of your breasts begin to heave quicker. You allow yourself to fully dive into the meal, this time taking noodles and broth quickly between your lips. For a moment, you seem to forget that Sanji is there. You hum, in something akin to ecstasy - Sanji had made this meal just for you, just the way you liked it.

The obscenely wet squelches of your lips slurping up his creation elicit a deep groan from the chef, fingers tightening their grip on your hair. He can't help but chuckle at the idea of Zoro sitting alone in some corner booth and nursing a drink, all while you're here sucking up and savoring Sanji's affection.

You lift your head, lips puffy from the spice and heat of the meal. Sanji presses himself into your back, as his free thumb comes around and wipes your bottom lip. Your gazes meet, and Sanji brings his thumb to his mouth - tasting remnants of your meal.

A low chuckle escapes his lips.

"What, my love? Finished already?"

You understand his insinuation, whipping your head back to your meal and bringing the ladle back to your mouth.

Eat it all up, love. Made just for you.

In a moment of weakness, Sanji gently pushes your head down.

You gag on the spoon.

Sanji moans.

His hips buck forward, desperate for friction, meeting the soft dip of your arched back. His throbbing cock digs into your back, your buttocks...Unable to compose himself, Sanji begins to rut himself against you – and you don’t protest.

Sanji knows how fowl this display looks, and yet he can’t help himself. He has wanted you - really wanted you - for so long...the idea that Zoro could possibly take you away from him was enough to drive him over the edge.

When Sanji hears your voice rumble from your chest - "nnnugh-! Sanji...!" - he swears by the heavens that he'll do anything to make you his.

His hand moves from your hair and wraps around your throat, slick with the broth that dribbles from your lips. He wishes to lick every part of your sticky, salty skin, gently squeezing your throat as you gasp out his name.

Your head lolls onto his shoulder, hand gripping the table as it shakes under the weight of Sanji's wild bucking.

Sanji is everywhere, mumbling streams of thought between hot kisses along your forehead:

"I fucking love you, you know that? Would Zoro treat you so well?"

"That pretty mouth, always teasing me - you think that's fair?"

"Just wanna fill you up with all of me, darling...Want those gorgeous lips around my cock..."

For all his talk, he fumbles and lurches forward. His hand unceremoniously lands in the bowl, soaking him up to the cuff in warm broth. You're both breathing heavily, the high beginning to wind down. However, you see your moment to gain leverage.

You grab hold of his wrist before he can think, turning your face ever so slightly to meet his.

With a twinkle in your eye, you guide his hand to your lips. Sanji's mind is a fluffy haze, unable to anticipate your next move.

"We don't waste food, right?" You purr.

You take Sanji's fingers into your velvety mouth and he practically sees stars. He has been dreaming of this exact pleasure for months, straining to keep from collapsing on top of you as your tongue swirls between his fingers.

As your cheeks hollow out around his digits, your hooded gaze keeps his in a near mocking way.

So, you had known his game all along.

Sanji's chest heaves against your back, his hot breath fanning across your face with a stutter. His inexperience shows in this moment, numb and capable of doing nothing but watching the expert way your mouth moves around his fingers.

A faint pop of your cheeks accompanies the release, a ghostly string of spit connecting his fingers to your lips. The faint moonlight catches hold of his soaked digits. Sanji inhales sharply.

His hand, frozen in your hold, is easily guided down...

down...

down...

"I've already had my meal," you murmur.

A shiver.

His eager fingers meet your soaking, pulsing warmth.

"It's time you eat yours."

[lawrites]

2022!Oswald Cobblepot x Female Plus Size Reader

(NSFW) Oswald Cobblepot asks you to drive with him, bringing you to the local makeout point. You both discuss insecurities, past high school experiences, and your love for each other (while getting into the mood of the area, of course).

CW: body insecurity, some talks of high school, and semi-public sex (not really because Oz bought out the place 😭), dry humping, praise

Thank you for exchanging fics with me @finniestoncrane!!! I was so honored to write this for you. Hope you enjoy. 💙💙

Oswald had a specific request for you, tonight.

“Sweetheart, wanna take you somewhere nice. Can you put on that pretty, short skirt for me? You know the one.”

You do know the one. You had found it online, somewhere, at one of his favorite high end sites. A flared tennis skirt that boasted it was for bigger bodies like yours, longer in the back and accommodating for wider hips. You had tried it on when it first arrived, in front of Ozzie as usual, and his eyes darkened instantly when he saw the way it highlighted your wider hips, the waistband digging into your plush middle and making a bit of flesh round out over the top. He had gotten up, reaching for your waist instantly and tracing the softness there.

“Angel…that one's a keeper. Want me to get you more? In different colors?”

“Thank you, Ozzie.” He looked elated, as he always did when you thanked him, “But I don't think that's necessar-”

He had put one hand in his pocket to reach for his phone while you were talking, and was now holding up a hand to interrupt you. “I'm already buying you more. You deserve only the best.”

Giving you a winning smile after a minute of tapping around on his phone, his attention returned to you, he continued, “And believe me, honey, this is absolutely more of a present for me.”

So now you find yourself rushing around, trying to pull together a cohesive outfit from your admittedly massive closet. The man spoiled you, but after spending most of your life without access to anything pretty at your size…you are secretly ecstatic to have such a selection at your fingertips. The only issue is that, after years of not having access to the best clothes, trying to put together an outfit that isn't just jeans and a tee is difficult.

Eventually, you land on the skirt in a pale blue color, a simple white tank top, a soft blue cropped cardigan, and some sneakers and thigh highs. Deciding to be a little bit extra, you put your hair up into some cute space buns, wrap them in a white ribbon, and grab a minimal amount of makeup.

Making a peace sign at yourself in the mirror, you take in your smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. It's not necessarily that you are unexcited for this date…you're just nervous. Even now, after more than a year of being with Oz…living with him, even, you worry that you just aren't what he truly wants.

He's proven time and time again that you are, but unfortunately years of insecurity over being fat don't just go away thanks to sweet compliments and proof of attraction…but they do help. You hold your hands at your sides as you walk to the grand staircase, but can't keep them from fiddling with the edge of your skirt when you see him.

He's dressed admittedly casually for him. Dark, high quality jeans that are imported from Italy, a nice, designer cotton shirt, and a vintage leather jacket. You haven't seen him like this before, and he looks good. His chest hair peeks out from the v of the shirt, his patent leather shoes are shined, and everything is tailored perfectly.

Your hands run along and edge of your skirt and you clear your throat, gaining his attention. His eyes instantly turn your way, with a charming smile. The smile drops into an open-mouthed gaze of wonder as he takes you in. “Oh, Angel…” he starts, then stops, then starts walking towards you.

You begin to hurriedly flounce down the stairs, trying to match his own impatient pace. In your haste, you manage to trip on the last step, only to be caught, handily, by Oz. His hands grip yours, and his charming smile is back. “Woah! Where's the rush, beautiful?”

He carefully winds a hand around to the small of your back, gently nudging you towards him until you are pressed right against his front. His other hand moves to cup your chin. “Got someone special you're trying to meet?”

You blush and try to disguise how flustered you are (how flustered he makes you). “I am! Have you seen anyone special around?”

He knits his eyebrows together in an exaggerated expression of contemplation, smirking at your tease and releasing your chin to rub his own. “Hmmm, can't think of one. ‘Cept me, of course.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, “Well, you're certainly handsome enough to be someone important.”

Oz, almost like he can't help himself, surges forward and kisses you. It wasn't fast enough to disguise the way his cheeks turned red at your admission, however. His tongue lightly traces your lips, demanding entry, and you open up. He groans and his hands move to your hips, trying to somehow get you even closer than you already are.

Eventually you both need air, and separate from each other as you catch your breath. Your face shows the astonishment you feel, “Well, that was…unexpected. Good unexpected, though.” You grin at him and he almost sheepishly runs a hand through the hair on the back of his head.

“What can I say, Angel? You drive me crazy. I can't help myself.”

He holds out his hand, and you gladly take it. By the gentle guidance of Oz, you eventually find yourself at the entrance of his garage. The sheepishness is gone, and he looks you up and down with a dark glint in his eyes, “Whaddya say, sweetheart? Up for a late night drive?”

—-------------------------

Oz made you feel cared for, in almost every aspect of your relationship. He was a secret romantic at heart, which was part of the explanation for his behavior…but the other part was his need to show off what he has earned. What is his, and his by hard work and smarts.

And, while saying that you're his may be archaic, you certainly feel like you're his as you're driving through Gotham, his big hand on your bare thigh, tracing the bit of flesh that spills out of your thigh highs. He's casually chatting, of course, telling you about this place or that in Gotham, the history behind it, occasionally making you giggle with his stories. He looks over to you when you do, briefly, his eyes shining.

“Never going to get used to the feeling that I get when I make a pretty girl like you laugh. It's a privilege.”

You are floating, happy, maybe slightly aroused at the feel of his hands on you, when he suddenly releases your thigh as the car stops, moving to put it in park. Trying to take in your surroundings, paying attention to them properly, now, you are instead confused to see just greenery, trees, and darkness surrounding you. You turn to Oz to ask him a question, but he is already getting out of the car and moving to your side, ready to open your door.

You thank him, accepting the hand he offers and trying to see if anything around you was worth the drive. And then, you see the drop off ahead in the ground, rocky, sharp, and guarded by a crumbling fence. Still holding his hand, you look from the drop to Oz. He brings your hand up, kisses it, and then releases it, gesturing for you to investigate.

You rush forward, hearing him yell out, “Be careful, though, Dove! You don't have wings even if you are an Angel.” Pausing well within a safe distance from the edge, you peer down and see the entirety of Gotham spread out before you. The twinkling of the lights, the giant buildings, but without the noise. It's quiet, even if you can just barely see a police car with sirens on, the shrill tone doesn't reach you, here.

“Oh Oz! This is gorgeous! I've never seen Gotham like this! How did you find this place?”

You feel his hands on your shoulders, his soft front pressed against you, “This place isn't a secret. Been aware of it since high school. Would come up here and look at the city and just…think sometimes.” He turns you around so you are facing him, placing a hand under your chin. “Wanted to see your gorgeous face light up like the city when you see it from here.”

Blushing, again, you swat his hand away. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Cobblepot.” He snorts at your teasing tone, and you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “I bet you said that to all the girls when you brought them up here back then.”

His grin falters, and he seems to almost deflate in stature. “W-well I-” he cuts himself off, struggling to form a sentence. “Actually, you're the first.”

You roll your eyes, “Sure, Oz.” He holds out his hands, “No! I'm serious…I…Doll, I wasn't much of a looker in high school.” His arms drop to his sides at his admission.

His face falls, and you see a familiar expression, one that you have on your own face when you talk about high school bullies and your insecurities over your weight. Softening, you move towards him, gently bringing him in for a hug. “Oh. I didn't mean to tease you, Ozzie. I know how that feels.”

He grumbles above you, “Yeah, I know, because I have trouble believing an Angel like you had any trouble in high school, myself.” Maneuvering you so he can look at you at arms length, he whistles, “I mean, with your plump, soft body and those rosy, plush cheeks? I have a hard time believing you even want to be with me now.”

You move forward, out of his grasp, and cross your arms, hugging yourself. “Oh, I don't know about that Ozzie. I was such a nerd in high school, and I still am!” He chuckles, and looks like he's about to argue, but you continue, anyway. “I know if you went to high school with me, though, I would have had the biggest crush on you.”

He looks confused. “Really? No joke?” You shake your head, “Absolutely no joke, cross my heart. You're charming.” You bite your lip purposefully, drawing his eyes which start to darken, “You're so romantic, it makes me swoon sometimes.” Moving closer, you wind your arms around him, one at a time, looking up with big, shining eyes, “And you are exactly my type. I love your strong nose,” you kiss it, “I love your dark, gorgeous eyes,” you get on your tiptoes to flutter your eyelashes against him in a cute move that makes Oz actually giggle.

“I love your body, even if you don't,” you press yourself right against his front, making him let out a grunt, “And I guarantee that if we were in high school together, I would have let you take me up here and show me-”

His arms pull you closer, desperately, and he slams his lips into yours, effectively cutting you off. You let out a surprised sound, but then soften and let him lead. Feeling the effect you have on him, you grind against him, making him release your lips with a groan.

“God, Angel.” He's out of breath, his hands crumpling the fabric of your skirt from where he had dug them into your hips. Releasing them, he smooths it down with his hands slowly, almost worshipfully. “The idea of you, in this outfit, showing little old, ugly me in high school a good time…”

You cut him off, “We probably would have both been considered ugly in high school, then, Oz. Two weirdos together. But look at where we are now, huh?”

You reach down to hold his hand, using it to lead him to the back of the car, where you hop up onto the trunk, slightly ungracefully. Arms spread, you invite him into your embrace and he accepts, sucking in a breath as you spread your plush thighs so they surround him.

Using your arm to bring his head down, he dutifully follows and sniffs at the juncture between your shoulder and neck, moaning and beginning to nibble marks into your skin. With a breathier tone, you whisper into his ear, “King of Gotham, my King of Gotham. So powerful and smart and those idiots in high school didn't know what they were missing.”

With that, he whimpers, and his hands dig into your thighs once more, moving your skirt up and pressing, grasping, digging into the plump flesh available to him there. His hips begin to piston, slowly at first, rubbing against your center and making you choke on air.

Then he releases the spot where he had been worrying your flesh with his teeth, nuzzling his nose up the column of your throat and whispering in your ear, now. “And you're the King of Gotham’s Sweet Dove. You're my gorgeous girl.” You whine, and he starts to move even faster against you, the both of you panting.

“Ozzie! Please!” You stifle your cry as much as you can, unsure what exactly it is that you want, but the heat in your belly is removing your ability to think. You feel your wetness soaking into Oz’s front, and he just groans, “Oh, good girl. So wet for me, yeah? So pretty and plump and all mine.”

You bite your lip, self conscious, still, especially being out in the open like this. “M-messy,” you whimper, unable to voice your worry more fully. He almost coos at you, trying to calm you down and comfort you as his hips continue pressing against you in a steady rhythm, sending sparks through your body. “You think I care about a little mess, sweetheart?”

You're the one who nuzzles your head into his neck, now, unable to hold back the small pleas and whimpers and whines that are all coming from somewhere deep inside of you. Somewhere in the mess of words, you say, “K-king!”

It makes Oz stutter in his rhythm, letting out a sound like he's been punched. “T-that's right, Angel. And a King doesn't let those peasants decide who he is or what he does.” With that, he snakes a hand around between you, maneuvering until he is under your panties, circling around your bundle of nerves and making you throw your head back, moaning out more pleas.

He chuckles. “Always wanted to hear a pretty girl scream out my name up here. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?” The next word comes out desperately, like he needs to hear it, “Please.”

You start to chant his name, which makes him finally press his finger against your clit. “Oz! Ozzie! Oh! Oswald!” Your legs spasm and your mouth easily forms his name, your thighs hugging hard around his sides and forcing him to press right against you. He groans out, “God, my Angel,” and you feel him still as he grunts and growls against your neck.

Catching your breath together, you eventually separate a bit, the heaviness of the summer air and the stickiness combining to make you both feel a bit…gross. Chuckling, Oz removes his leather jacket. What little light exists around you highlights the sweat on his soft, strong arms, making your legs press together again.

He sees you, and lets out a moan. “Sweetheart, I love yah, but you’ve worn me out.” He throws his jacket casually in the back of the car and you collapse onto your back on the trunk, the exhaustion finally reaching your body. You let out a squeak as you feel Oz press against your thighs, removing your panties and cleaning you up with a wet wipe.

Sitting up, press a sweet kiss to his nose and thank him. He smiles serenely at you and you both contentedly sit, for a moment, before you remember where you are. Your heart seizes with anxiety and you push him away getting off the trunk and gesturing wildly with your hands, “Oz! We did that in public! Where anyone could see! What were we thinking! I-”

He laughs, a full belly laugh, and you turn to him with your hands at your hips. “What's so funny, Oz?”

He wipes a tear away, “Sorry, doll, didn't mean to mock you.” He looks fairly proud as he admits, “I own this place, and most of the place around it. I usually open it up to others but tonight…I made sure no one else would be up here.”

Your demeanor shifts to one of relief. “Oh, thank God.” He brings you to him, pressing your back against his front and hugging you from behind. “Oh, I'm not God, Sweetheart, but I'll take the thanks all the same.”

You swat at him, and he chuckles. Then, he groans and presses his head against your shoulder. His voice comes out hesitantly, “Besides, I didn't need anyone seeing me coming in my pants like a fucking teenager over a pretty girl.”

You join him when he laughs, and his wandering hands go to your sensitive spots, seeking out ticklish areas to make you giggle with glee even more. Two weirdos, indeed.

---------------------

....anyway hope you enjoyed! 💙💙

[safetycar-restart]

this may be a bit weird but bear with me?

i know there's a lot of dom giving the subs aftercare, but what about dom getting aftercare?

maybe after a scene where the sub asked them to be particularly rough / degrading / etc and dom is just . . . nervous because what if he thinks they seriously thought any of that and what if they were too rough and just gets in their in own head?

obviously, please ignore if you're uncomfy with it, but i thought it had potential (especially with the d/s au)

Okay okay listen I ADORE this idea (and also this idea will make my sub very very happy she is always talking about this) and when I tried to come up with who to write about this, I actually ended up with three ideas and so I decided to just write a little bit about each of my ideas and then we can go from there!

POLY!PIARLES:

So as we all know, Charles is a sweet darling little bunny who cannot handle rough scenes whatsoever and you and Pierre love him very very much. Pierre, however, on days where he's subbing... well he loves rough scenes and every now and then he needs you to really just be rough with him, to whip him and edge him and completely ruin him.

When Charles first joined the relationship, he wouldn't even stay in the same house when you did those rough scenes with Pierre. Of course you and Pierre both understood and respected this. But as the relationship continues and the three of you pretty much start living together, then charles starts staying in the house. And pretty soon he starts coming to check in on Pierre once you've finished aftercare and then before long, he becomes part of aftercare.

The first time this happened, the plan was to call Charles in once the scene is over and then he can help you look after Pierre. He was supposed to just give Pierre cuddles like a good little bun. But then he's there and he sees something that he doesn't like.

You seem almost, uncertain? You don't look just concerned about Pierre, it's like you're unsteady. And so instantly charles shifts his attention. You care for Pierre, but he keeps his eyes on you and looks after you.

After that, your harsh scenes with Pierre always go like that. You give Pierre his aftercare and Charles gives you aftercare. And the little bunny is absolutely OVERJOYED that he can help his mommy like that.

HOUSE HUSBAND!CARLOS:

(God I love house husband!Carlos and I've missed him so much)

So I think for Carlos, part of his aftercare IS looking after you? His entire life revolves around looking after you, making sure he's the best sub, servicing you.

And so he honestly can't settle down after a scene unless he also looks after you. You've made him feel so so good and cared for him and looked after him and now, now he must make sure you're 100% okay. He knows how doing those things to him can effect you and so he knows the absolute best thing to do is to help you.

Knowing this, maybe you even give Carlos specific instructions and orders? You look after him immediately after the scene, and once you've gotten him cleaned up, you let him make you both some food and maybe let him help you in the shower, stuff like that.

Carlos just feels so so good when he can make sure he's helping you and ensuring you know just how much he loves you.

LOGAN:

So I think Logan would start prioritising your aftercare from the very first scene. You genuinely don't expect it at all. You look after him, cleaning him up and then giving a massage and dressing him in comfy clothes, just like planned.

And then, then Logan just... he looks up at you and asks how you're feeling? When you hesitate to answer, he sits up and frowns, asking you if you're alright and if he can do anything and immediately going on a rant about how good it was for him and how you're the best dom he's ever had.

You felt fine, but it was just so unexpected. You'd never had a sub do that before, certainly not so soon after a scene. It's then that you realise how big Logan's heart really is. For him, checking with you like that was a no brainer, he had to do it.

[bulletswithribbons]

"Fucking hate journalists"

Kai Anderson X Fem!reader // NSFW

Warnings: Kai Anderson. You guess it. Very little plot, degrading, non-con/dob-con, mentions of murder, implied masochism, rough oral sex (m receiving), gun play, slut shaming, hair pulling, let me know if I missed any.

Summary: Kai breaks in your house to teach you your place after non-stop asking him back handed questions during the interview. Events eventually take a twisted turn, you were never that much of a good girl anyways.

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: This is my first ever fic, I've read plenty and wrote smut before so I'm pretty confident. But first time publishing so here we go.

Interviewing Kai right after his campaign was not the best call at all, especially the way you kept pressing him. You knew you shouldn’t have but this is war whether he knew it or not. You took a vow on yourself to make him expose himself on his own. You’ve always been suspicious about him but you had no proof of your accusations, and calling someone out based on your gut is not really professional, especially as a journalist. 

Even though someone had to confront him about his mistakes and fear mongering, your questions only made things worse, for you at least. You pushed too hard, making him feel small in front of the media. He could sense your suspicion with every question, and it's clear you put a big dent in his ego.

You were sitting on your desk, ticking your pen as a form of anti-stress. A bit of a mess actually, papers scattered, pens strewn about. Newspapers and magazines pile up, post-it notes plastered everywhere and a coffee cup long forgotten. Your desk lamp sits on the edge, casting a soft, warm glow in the room. You've always preferred gentle lights especially when working, it helps you think.

Your thoughts spiral around making your headache worse than it already is. How could you possibly put him down, once and for all..?

A bone-chilling breeze whispers over the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You enjoy it while it lasts, a refreshing breeze in this stifling hot night. It must have come from the window behind you, although you don't remember leaving it open... It doesn't matter. Nothing does as long as you still have work to do.

Your slender fingers reach for your white blouse, unbuttoning it. Once removed, you toss it aside, letting it fall to the floor, trying to cool your temperature down. You're digging through Kai's files, searching for a gap to use against him. It wasn't your job to do so. But as a journalist of course, you'd investigate and research to report the facts and keep people up with the facts.

Perhaps it's because you take what he says in the media personally. After all, a part of you is a feminist, a part you're not ready to let go of, at least for the sake of all the women who fought for their place in this world. You see through his manipulation tactics because you've seen them before. You know a narcissist when you see one.

"Fuck!" You shout as you throw the papers off your desk.

"Hm, come on now, how dare you throw these papers. We don't want little big mouth to lose her temper." He tsks, with an overly sweet tone dripping with sarcasm.

Shocked, you recognize the voice as you feel something hard poking you in the back of your head, trailing down to your neck, detaching your hair that was hardly holding up in the messy bun. Cold, metal. Sudden realisations hit all at once, but most importantly is the outsider in your house -your room- you pissed off earlier this day holding a gun to your head.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" you ask, your voice rising towards the end. You're trying your best to stay calm. One mistake, and you’re dead. Young lady in her 20s corpse’ found shot in her bedroom because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Mr. Anderson?”He repeats after you, chuckling. “They’re always respectful when fearful.” A sinful smirk tugs his lips, a look of pride in his dark cold eyes after hearing his last name coming from your trembling lips. “But I would have to politely decline your offer. I’m here to fix the mess of a situation you’ve just created for yourself. After all, I don’t want to lose voters over something so foolish. Especially this… close to the election.”

"Like hell I—or anyone with a brain that knows right from wrong—would vote for you!" You yell as you stand up from your seat.

His jaw clenches and nostrils flare, showing his annoyance. His grip on the gun tightening as he lifts the gun up to your temple, his finger twitching on the trigger. His voice, on the other hand, remains eerily sweet. “I really think you should keep your voice down.”

You swallow, your throat drier than ever. 

His voice lowers to a whisper, "I see you started learning. Good girl, I'm proud of fast learners." He takes a step towards you, his free hand stroking your chin and cheek, his touch alone giving you goosebumps. The gun rests on your temple, his eyes darting around the room.Then his focus shifts back to you. "Get on your knees," he orders and pulls his hand away from your face.

“I’m sorry?” You rush out, your eyes widening.

“Now,” he responds, his tone dripping with impatience as he jerks his gun to signal his order. “Expecting company?” He inquires looking down at your —bra only— chest.

You crouch down on your knees, his gun still pointing to your head. “No,” you respond short and clearly. For a minute, you believe you saw him smile slightly. A smile of pride.. 

“You’re such an obedient slut, aren’t you?” He pauses, “You defied me, made a fool of me in front of everyone. That doesn't go unnoticed.” He whispers, his voice pitch getting higher towards the end.

“So you’re going to shoot me? Because I hurt your little pathetic ‘man ego��? Because I’m small and vulnerable while you’re big and strong?” You retort, fake amusement hiding your fear.

“You’re smart. Most girls aren't smart. Well, that was the plan.” His smirk widens, his tone sounding even more sadistic as he slowly traces the gun barrel around your jawline— tracing it slowly with the tip of his gun. You notice him staring at your lips. “But now, seeing how big of a mouth you have, I’m going to show you what whores like you are made for.” He informs, his tone bled dry of emotion.

“The kitchen and carrying useless men’s babies. I Get it, trust.” You lash out. Although you know keeping your mouth shut is probably the better option, especially in this exact situation. But that never really happens, at least not most of the time.

Kai’s grip tightens on the gun as his rage begins to seep through his body. His other hand darts out to your face and before you even notice it, a slap lands with a sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain rippling through your cheek and leaving you on the floor. It stings, you can feel a red mark in its wake. Leaving you feeling shocked and humiliated.

You were lying down there on the floor, your body stretched out, limbs motionless. There was no sense of ease in your posture nor the room, rather a stillness that borders on tension. Even the air itself felt stifling.

Your eyes widen at the sight of his free hand darting to his zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth. “You see, you just know how things work.” His tone becomes condescending, he pops the button and grip the waistband of his pants pulling it down until it’s enough to pull his dick out. “You have such a delicious looking mouth. I'm sure it has been put to good use for the benefit of passing by men. I'm guessing you've had a lot of fun.” He grabs the elastic of his boxers, lowering them down over his balls and pulling out his half hard cock.

You stare at him, your face frozen in shock. “You’re sick!” you shout.

“Am I now? You're the one who's been around so many men in your life. You should be used to it by now.” He grins, his hand holding his gun and moving it from your cheek to beneath your chin, pulling it up, so you were looking at him. “You should be grateful I'm bothering to even look at you.”

Although the men you’ve been with aren’t that many, you don’t bother to waste your time explaining. He believes what he wants to believe.

“Get back here,” he orders as he starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip. A bead of precum glistening from the tip.

You crawl back to him on all fours, doing as he says, and getting back on your knees, looking up at him. “Are you going to hurt me?” you ask.

He pauses for a moment before tilting his head with a small grin. “Isn’t that what you deserve? Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it? You like pain? Is that what you crave, y/n?” 

Fear… Regret.. Along with arousal.. Unwanted arousal specifically. You always knew you had a thing for troubled —twisted— men, but this is beyond fucked-up. Not to forget, he’s your worst enemy. He’s any woman’s worst enemy.  Feeling your pussy weeping in response to his tall figure towering over you is not really something to be proud of. The heat between your thighs only grew bigger every second and you knew you needed to get rid of the feeling.

He stops pumping his cock, his hand darts to your head caressing your hair with —almost— a soft touch.

“Suck,” he orders.

Your eyes widen, your tongue ready to curse at him, “I’m not going t-” 

“I won’t ask again, suck.” His hand darts up to your face squishing your cheeks painfully together. “You run your mouth a lot, might as well put it to good use. I’ll show you what exactly happens to smart mouths. Suck it like the slut you are.” His eyes burn with anger while he’s squeezing tight, his voice dripping with venom. The tip of his heavy warm cock caresses your soft lips, tempting you to bite it off.

He roughly lets go of your face, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head to the back to force your mouth open.

He forces the tip past your teeth, hatred spewing from your eyes.

“Wider,” he demands, but you want him to beg. Beg for it on his knees and switch the table, be the one with the gun ordering him around like a house pet. Getting back your dignity sounded good but not enough if you compare it with its consequence, having your life taken away from you.

You ignore his request. Making him reinforce his hold in your hair, pulling at it harder making your jaw drop so he can get deeper to your throat. The salty taste of precum evades your taste buds.

You loved the taste of him, your mouth watering with his cock inside it. But you couldn't admit it, of course you never would. It didn’t take too long for you to wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft.

Your head bobbing up and down. A breathy moan escaped him.

“Do enlighten me,” he breathes out, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his thick cock, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.

Ragged breaths escaped his mouth as you began to inch your way down, taking in more of him. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat. Kai tightens his grip around your hair, and shoves your face down against his cock, making you gag around him, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick, making you gag. His length occupying your whole mouth down to your throat. You were practically choking, but he didn’t really care about it, he’s there for one reason and one reason only, teaching you to know your place.

“Fucking whore. You thought you were so smart with those non stop questions?” He pauses panting as he thrusts harder into your throat, the sound of you gagging and the wet thrusts echoing through the room. “Fucking hate journalists. Tell me… Who got the upper hand now?” 

You can't help but ignore him once again. It's not like you would give him what he wants and come undone beneath him, right? Of course you can’t answer him, after all you’re his number one hater. But even haters would give in when it’s the most mouthwatering cock a man can ever have. 

When you avoided answering, or maybe couldn’t answer since you were basically choking on his cock. His dick alone is enough to murder you if he wanted to. It only made him thrust faster, the asshole didn’t stop mouth fucking you even when he noticed your cheeks turning to a bright red and your eyes watering. Your cries turned him even more on. Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his pubic hair.

Finally, you gave him a wobbly nod, motioning that he has the upper hand.

His head fell back to his shoulders, “That’s good to hear.. You’re learning, you’re such a good girl…Fuck…” 

You smile at the praise. Surprisingly, him being somewhat ‘sweet’ only made him ten times hotter. 

Tears keep running down your red cheeks, your cries echoing through the room.

“Just so you know, I’m enjoying this. Your whimpers are music to my ear.” He groans. “But god dammit don’t whine like a fucking bitch.” He spits at you and it lands on your cheek. Add it to the list of body fluids covering your face, along with the sweat gathering at your forehead and drool drenching your chin. 

You moan around his thick cock, sending him vibrations through his whole body. After all, you’re not putting on an act, you are enjoying it which is something you, yourself, are afraid of. But mostly you were focused on getting oxygen into your lungs. And maybe he is right, as always. Maybe there really is a part of you that enjoys the pain. That burning stinging sensation in the back of your throat. It’s scary because it’s true. 

His thrusts then began to lose their rhythm, but still managed to keep up with his pace. You knew what was coming for you. You shut your eyes, dramatically accepting your fate. Your jaw was already tired from him using you. His shaft was heated up, thrusting in and out of your red swollen lips. His hand gripped on your hair even more tightly holding you in place while his hold on the gun loosened. 

“My cock is a reward, tasting me is a blessing. Fucking thank me for letting you suck me off.” He says between breaths. 

No response, just a wet sticky cough. But afraid of his reaction, you choke out with a full mouth, “thank you.”

You could promise that you felt the disgusted face he did, “what a filthy bitch didn't your parents teach you not to talk with a full mouth?” He says while non-stop grunting like a wounded animal. That's probably what he is anyways... A wounded animal.

Few seconds later, ropes of cum spurt out from his dick into my throat, milking it after the abuse it went through when he was hammering into my mouth. He pulls out from your mouth and tug his dick back into his boxers then his pull his pants back up.

“Swallow,” he orders. “Fucking swallow my cum.” Kai grabs your face and presses his fingers into your cheek flesh.

Desperately, all you wanted to do was spit it at him, right in his face, but you don’t. You actually swallow like the obedient little slut he said you are. His seed slides down your throat, alongside your dignity and maybe your hatred towards him. 

Your fingers reach to your face drying up the tears that ran down your cheeks and the saliva running down your chin along with lines of cum. Looking up to him, you see him breathing heavily. His body working hard to get the oxygen he needs from how hard you sucked him off.

He looks at you up and down, judging you, it can't be anything good.

You expected him to do something, whether beat you up, shoot you, the least of it is spit at you telling you how much of a filthy whore you are.

But he didn't, and you were grateful for that... For him..

The taste of him still lingers at the tip of your tongue. You lick your lips unintentionally and in the most discrete way possible. Last thing you want is having him know you liked it and boost his ego, not that it could possibly needed any more promotions. But he already knows, you're sure of it. The way you sucked the life out of him like it was the best thing you laid your lips on, you can't hide that from anyone.

He turns and walks to the door, completely silent. What could he be possibly thinking about...?

He pauses at the door, turning his head to see you, he’s sweaty.

“If I see you run your mouth about any of my work, newt time will be much worse.” He promises, which you thought was kind of cute.. Promises… 

Zipping up his fly, and slipping his gun in his pants, he finally turns away and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

[oceanlue]

spicy idea but could you write about the yv boys getting their fingers sucked? (this could be sfw too maybe)

Fingers 🖐🏻

Alphonse 🧁 🍭

You were in the kitchen baking some cupcakes and also making some icing for the cupcakes it was going to be a red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing

Alphonse wanted to come help you so he came into the kitchen it was helping with the icing mixing and adding some ingredients

As you finish the cupcakes and put them away for the shop there was still some icing left and alfons being a little sneaky is tried some icing you already put the spatula into the sink so he used his fingers instead

He offered you the bowl since he had some on his fingers but you decide to be a cheeky little sneaker and eat the icing that was on his fingers it was a little bit hot for him to see you do that but he didn't mind

" oh boo if you wanted something sweet we could have gone upstairs and I can make you something real sweet and it won't be cupcakes"

Seth 🏕 🍂

Seth was helping you in the kitchen making some Cinnabons because ever since you started making them he can't get enough of them but he doesn't eat them all the time

You told him how to make them from scratch and this was a lovely evening the weather outside was perfect autumn Breeze and everything in the house was nice and perfect so why not make some Cinnabons

As you were putting the Cinnabons into the oven you taught him how to make the icing for the cinnamon buns

And as the Buns were done and you waited for a bit before pouring the icing on Seth got some icing on his fingers and hands and was going to go wash them off before you stopped him and then start licking his hands he was shocked what you did but he didn't mind one bit

" damn sugar never knew you can do that with your mouth how about me and you can go upstairs and let these Cinnabons cool down and you can put that mouth to good use"

Finn 🌻🪴

Sin was making some food for a potluck that he was invited to and his Orchid was helping him make it too you guys were making a nice warm soup a cauliflower soup to be exact and it was delicious

And he was going to have some trouble bringing it into the car so you helped him with that as you put the pot into the car he got some soup on his hands it didn't burn him but it was really messy

He walked back in saw you doing dishes and ask if he can use the sink to wipe his hand off instead of allowing him to wipe his hand you brought his hand to your mouth and licked the remaining soup off his hand after you were done you said "tasty"

" Orchid that was very s..shameful......... what you did but if you want to continue I wouldn't mind being late to the potluck today"

Auron 🖊 ☕

Auron decided that today's date will be just inside his penthouse he wanted you to teach him how to make a specific kind of dessert of course you said yes because who wouldn't spend a nice evening with a hunk of man like him

As you got into his Penthouse he was wearing his casual clothes that you made him get when you guys went shopping because apparently to you he doesn't have normal clothes

Honestly you did thought he looked very hot In Those Jeans and the way they tightened around his bottom really made you think you were the right person to get him those jeans

I'm not sure he was wearing even though it was black complimented his figure his man boobs his six pack is nice waist hips everything about this man was screaming

But anyways you taught him how to bake from scratch and nice cheesecake, strawberry cheesecake

And when you guys were having fun they're on smiled again showing off is beautiful smile as beautiful face

And as you guys are putting away all the things to let the cheesecake cool down and kind of went in the gutter and swiped some cheesecake cream out of the bowl and pointed it towards you and saying "suck"

You did and after he took his fingers out of your mouth you said tasty

" you know real if you wanted me that bad all you had to do was ask and don't think I didn't notice when you were looking at my ass earlier I think you did this on purpose when you wanted me to wear these jeans I think I should give you a punishment rook"

-------------------

Sorry this took so long things have been busy

Hope you like it

Peace out

💙💙💙

[itsfairly]

A Culture of Our Own // Nanami Kento x Latine! F! Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Summary: Intercultural dating is still pretty difficult. But you make it work with Nanami. Today, you do it through music.

Notes: sfw, fluff, f!reader, established relationship, Latine! reader (though it's more Mexican-leaning), intercultural relationship and all that, self-indulgent, Spanish, no translations, not proofread.

A/N: Please note that this is more from my experience, it is also highly self-indulgent. And that is because Nanami is my man, sorry about that. Anyways, also HAPPY LATINO HERITAGE MONTH. this is for us y'all, i did my best for the community. I wanted it to uploaded it on the 15th, but life happened. But hey, I still uploaded this before the month ended, so it's a win.

Dating becomes interesting when you add culture into the mix. Did you think you would end up dating a Japanese man? Especially after a lifetime of your mother asking you to be with someone who spoke Spanish? No. But life had a way to play with you and a way to be nice to you.

Just look at him. Nanami Kento. Someone who was just as handsome on the outside as sweet as they were on the inside. So respectful, so breathtaking, and so dreamy. No one even came close to how much this man makes your heart jump at the sight of him. No, he might not know your native language. But he certainly made you happy and content at his side.

Of course, eventually, you start to explain your cultures outside of the common knowledge and general facts like holidays and etiquette. You start getting into pop culture and what is normally taken for granted in your culture. It's a slow process considering how spontaneous the conversation can be.

From "What does that mean?" when using slang to an inside joke your culture has, little reoccurrences become opportunities to learn more about each other. Sure, you might not be able to fully explain something or understand it, but it doesn't take away that you two start to weave your cultures into the relationship and mix them into one that becomes intrinsic to your dynamic.

Today, you had one of those occurrences when you were cleaning your place and he just happened to come early. When he knocks on the door, you let him in without missing a beat despite being in your full-on cleaning outfit and playlist. A playlist that consisted of old songs your mom used to play when she cleaned such as Bésame Mucho, La Mentira, Si Una Vez, and such. Real classics obviously.

Classics he's not familiar with.

"You're early." You noted with a smile, walking over to your phone and pausing your music.

He looks down at his watch, seeing that he is actually on time. He remembers how much you joke about your family being late to everything or how time is just really abstract for you after years of being told ahorita. A word that could mean anything between 5 minutes to two hours. He chuckles at your words, agreeing with you that he was early for you. The different perception in time between the two of you could be weird at times, but it never really brought many problems considering that both of you (you mostly) put in the effort to accommodate for it.

"Is there something wrong with wanting to see my partner a little early?" He asks, a small smile coming to his face as he walks closer to you, leaving a small kiss on your forehead.

You smile, happy to feel his lips on you once more. "No, but you're seeing me in the most typical way a Latina looks when cleaning. I don't need that image in your mind.

He looks up and down, trying to see this look you're talking about. Sure, you had baggier clothes and your hair was in a bun with a few hairs sticking out and decorating your face. He hums, brushing those hairs back behind your ears.

"I think you're exaggerating considering that we've dated for a while." He raises an eyebrow at you, smirking when he sees that you really think you look messy or bad for just wearing something more comfortable when cleaning. Nothing wrong with that and definitely not making you look ugly in his eyes.

"Still, what if you caught me mid-performance? This playlist doesn't play around, alright? It's classic after classic."

Nanami laughs softly, seeing how serious your face is with your words telling him that you mean every word. Though, now that he thinks about it, he doesn't recognize the songs from the small snippet he heard through the door to the moment you paused the songs. It makes him curious about them.

"Classics?"

You nod before taking your phone and standing by his side to show him your playlist. It is after a couple of swipes down that you realize he can't even read the titles of the songs since they are in Spanish.

"In Latin America." You clarify, getting an idea. You hand him your phone, tilting your head down as to give him permission. "Choose one, we'll put it on right now while I change my clothes."

He takes the phone and raises a brow as he tries to gauge the unfamiliar songs. "I don't even know what I am reading, dear." He deadpans, making you chuckle.

"Then choose one randomly." You say, guiding him to your bedroom so you can pick your clothes.

He looks at the phone, looking through the album covers of the song. He recognizes some of the artists that are part of mainstream pop culture, Shakira being the easiest to recognize. Yet, his finger presses onto a song that he doesn't recognize at all.

But you do and it's obvious from the way you slowly turn to look at him and instantly melt into a light sway of your hips to match the song's slow and romantic rhythm.

"I always knew you were a romantic at heart but I didn't know it came naturally to you." You tease, taking out a shirt and jeans that were much more suitable to go out than the baggier and frankly unflattering clothes. "Let alone that, but you also chose a classic among classics."

Sabor A Mi. Now that's a real gem across Latin America and generations. Guitar strings fill the air with a romantic and sensual sense that warms up the room while the yearning lyrics are contracted by the singer's soft whispers. More than a classic, it's romance 101 in music.

"I take it I chose a good one then." He hums, placing the phone on your nightstand, turning around to face away from you as you change. To him, even if you dated for quite a while now, that didn't give him a right to look. Even if you insisted there was no problem and that you didn't mind, he still turned around out of respect for you. No matter how many times he has seen you out of those clothes, he still wanted to be the gentleman that you first met.

The pure intention made you smile and the song amplified those butterflies in your stomach.

Quickly changing out and into your clothes, you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and placing your chin on his shoulders. As you begin to sway on the spot with the music, you whisper, "A great one."

He's quick to follow your lead, letting you set the rhythm you have become so used to dancing after a lifetime of hearing boleros like this one. He doesn't have to understand the lyrics to understand how intimate the song is. The guitar strings and soft melodies tell him that enough. Enough to pull you closer to him as you two sway to the song.

He looks down at him, your head now against his shoulder with your eyes closed. He can see how relaxed your face is, the sun sweeping through your window and occasionally hitting your face with its light just enough to decorate your features. If his heart was struck by you once before, this moment served as a reminder of that.

"It's a nice song." He says softly, his hand running down your arm until it finds your hand. He entwines his fingers with yours.

You hum, looking up at him and lifting your head off his shoulder. "You certainly know how to choose them." You tease, stretching your arm as you separate your body from his, your hands connecting the two of you as you hold the other's.

He sees you smile, brightly and softly in a way that tugs his heart. God, you were so pretty. Plucked strings encourage him to pull you closer once more, seeing you spin until his arm is wrapped around you and your back meets his chest with a giggle.

God, he was so lucky to have you.

"I do." He wasn't talking about the song.

The song ends but you two continue to dance. Swaying and spinning in your bedroom without a care in the world. How could a match this heavenly happen against all odds? When neither of you thought you would date someone from a culture so different from your own?

Neither of you thought about that. Not right now when you were dancing so gently and oh so passionately at the same time. No words exchanged, just smiles and hums. Maybe a kiss here and there that either managed to steal. But words? No, just your phone playing songs about love you never thought you would live.

Oh, how wrong were you.

How wrong were you to think that when this moment showed that you were not only loving and being loved, but you were doing so in the way these songs made you feel. It was a dream. It was luck. It was a movie. It was music. It was him. Him.

"Please send me these songs later." He says, breaking the silence.

"You're gonna study these later?" You tease, chuckling at the idea of Nanami listening to songs he doesn't know what they are about.

"Maybe." He chuckles, lifting your hand as he spins you around. "You said they were classics, didn't you? I have to know about them if we're going to keep dancing like this."

You smile at him. After so many people were disinterested and even critical of your culture to the point that you felt like having to keep it private, he wanted it to be included in your relationship. Even celebrate it in a way. Why does it even come as a surprise when he always looked at you in awe whenever you spoke Spanish? Even if he didn't know what you said, he would always have this curiosity towards that part of you that was once criticized.

Nanami knew how to love you, but now it was clear that he knew how to love the culture you were so in love with too.

"You're right. You have quite the content to go over then. So do I. Not only do I have to go over Japanese culture, I also have to study a bit of Danish, don't I?"

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him and letting you two become one with the music once more. The world melting away with just the two of you existing in this very room.

Yeah, there are bumps in the road. Misunderstandings and uncertainties that could sour what you two had. But it never did. Not when he was so patient in sharing and learning. Not when you were so excited to know more and explain what made you you. Culture could be tricky, but for the two of you, it was what made your relationship so enjoyable. You may have had different upbringings but you were still similar enough to work well together.

Though it was something the two of you already knew, it was something that was confirmed to Nanami once he translated the song he just happened to choose by chance earlier today. Our souls have become close enough that I keep your flavor and you keep mine all well. It was funny how a song he just happened to tap on happened to describe why you two worked so well. You had different cultures that entwined together once you became a couple, having pieces of each other's culture embedded into the other.

He thought it was just a wonderful idea that it became one of his favorite songs that you've shown him.

Dating someone from another culture is interesting, scary even. But life was kind to you and let you meet Nanami, someone with whom you could unapologetically share your culture knowing that it would be as cherished as every other part of you. Someone who made it easy to share both cultures until you created your own. A unique culture that was both him and you.

A culture that tasted of both you and him because of how much you loved each other and stayed by your side.

Neither of you would have it another way.

[ideas-4-stories]

Silly fanfic idea I wanna drop here -

Everyone thinks out if the cross guild throttle, Mihawk is the only one who can cook. This is a fair assumption, but it's most definitely not true in the SLIGHTEST.

Buggy was a cabin boy and apprentice. His whole role on the Oro Jackson was to learn, and whereas Shanks took to the battle prowess with flying colors, Buggy's talents lied elsewhere. The likelihood of them both having menial chores to do, both as a "cabin boys do this" and "Oh we need to give the kids SOMETHING to do to burn energy", is very high. Buggy would bitch and moan about it, but would put genuine effort into it if only to do it better than Shanks. At some point it is discovered that Shanks could quite literally set water on fire. He is forbidden from the kitchen. Buggy is not. He can and WILL lord that over him for all time.

As a result, Buggy is the one to handle the kitchen chores - and eventually he asks questions of the cook(s) and helps out there too. He learns cooking and baking, and actually.. really enjoys it??

When time passes and he has his own crew, at first, he is the one making their meals. He teaches Mohji and Cabaji to cook some simpler dishes, and moves on from there. He enjoys it - it's Fun, Flashy, and Delicious. Plus, he is damned good at bartering, which saves him money and he does love money. This is simple math.

As the crew grows, he does get cooks on board as well. They all know that sometimes the captain will swing by, hair in a bun, bandana on, grabbing an apron, and they just wordlessly make a space for him to join.

By the time Cross Guild forms, Buggy has been a busy little bee. He hasn't had a chance to go get elbows deep in flour, meats or veggies in a very, very long time, but he's been able to slip off after nightfall to whip up some little treats when the urge hits. He misses the hustle and bustle of a kitchen sometimes, but this... this is nice, too.

Crocodile and Mihawk are surprised when one morning Buggy shows up to a meeting, sets down a plate of pastries, and gets to it. They tentatively take one and are flabbergasted by how good it is. Neither are much for sweets, just these are actually a perfect mix of buttery, warm, flakey goodness with just a pop of natural sweetness from the fruit. Crocodile makes a semi-snide comment on how "I didn't think your little carnival cooks could make anything that didn't induce tooth rotting."

Buggy doesn't even look up from the map he's using to plot a course. "Oh, I made those. The others tend to over sweeten the fruit filling, and you guys don't really like sugary stuff, so I made this batch the way Ray-san liked them. Hey, if we shift our shipment from Allena to the 17th, we may be able to mitigate a need for a second ship heading out-"

Both warlords are gaping - in their own ways, of course.

This is the first of many, many little factoids about Buggy that they learn during this business venture.

It's also the beginning of interest in him beyond a means to an end.

I would think Mihawk is the best at cooking with mostly anything, I like that Mihawk is really REALLY good at cooking. Crocodile would know how to do some because if one wants to survive, they need to know how to make sure somethings good to be eaten. Cooking is a good skill to have while surviving the world.

Definitely Shanks and Buggy has menual chorse to do around Oro Jackson. Buggy would complaint after finding out the new chores placed on them are mostly because the other crew members don’t want to do them, and yes Buggy does them with efficiency and genuine effort as Shanks stares in the corner whining about the chores as much as Buggy does. I can sees Buggy making a game out of cleaning the deck, so Shanks actaully helps him. By strappying cleaning brushes to their shoes and using mops as like hockey sticks. Buggy has a soap bar as the puck and they start playing. I would clean a deck if I could do that as well.

Peeps, I beileve Roger, Buggy, and Shanks have set water on fire before and maybe have burn down a island because they tried to cook. I doubt it’s only a Shanks thing… but I can say that it’s only 25% of the time for Buggy to burn something as Shanks is most likely 75% of the time. I beileve both cabin boys can go into the kitchen… just only with adult supervision. WHO IS NOT ROGER! It would be really cute if both tried their best wth the help of the cook(s) to make things for the crew… good thing they have iron stomachs… right?

I beileve Buggy is flashy great about making things that don’t need the stove or oven. I can see Buggy making little animals out of fruits and vegetables for fun, Roger and Shanks loves them.

Awwwwwwwwwww with Buggy helping Cabaji and Mohii how to cook and bake, I like to think Buggy met Cabaji way before becoming a pirate again. I have an idea about, I might write a story or stories about it or just write about on Tumblr… I don’t know yet. I love how whenever Buggy wants to cook or bake, the chefs on board will make room for their captain, that’s cute!

Then Buggy with bartering? Hell yeah on the fact Buggy is great at bartering with people, even when he isn’t trying. Money is a great thing to have, it’s truly simple math.

Buggy being a busy little bee even before the formation of Cross Guild, having some time since the last time he bakes or cook something. I want to make a fic about this! Thank you Anon for giving me a ask. I don’t when it will be done, but I want to think Buggy had another long stressful day and cannot sleep well. So, the Genuis Jester had a genius idea to destress by making some treats into the night. So, when in the next meeting, as Buggy comes in with apologizes for being late. Having notebooks filled with meeting ideas and things they need to discuss as well as a plate of like three-types treats.

Damn right Mihawk and Crocodile are flabbergasted by how good it it, Buggy is great with surpsing people with his hidden talents (well more like people don’t bother to ask about what Buggy can do, until he does them) Makes sense that both don’t really care, but I see Mihawk liking chocolate and candy canes (this is from a fic that stated that Mihawk likes them becuase they can be shaped into a deadly weapon) more than any other treats.

Not Crocodile making a semi-snide comment, problay wondering why the cooks can’t make treats like these and Buggy shoots back with oh becuase they didn’t make them, I did. I love both are shocked to the core for different reasons. Then having Buggy just think it’s no big deal and haven’t even looked up from the map. Still working as Crocodile and Mihawk have stop doing so from what Buggy said.

Awwwwwwwww, Buggy making treats like what Ray-San likes it. It’s so sweet and sad to me.

[cactus-cuddler]

Peter Quill

TYPE OF BOYFRIEND

!femreader

◇ When he is angry with you he find to don't let it be noticed, he thinks is him the problem and he doesn't want to lose you. So when you try to apologise to him it would go like this:

"Babe I am sorry... I didn't mean to criticize your favorite song. I was wrong." you say with a slowly voice.

"No, you don't. I buy you some chocolate from Earth... human girls usually love it!" he says handing you a box of chocolates.

"It wasn't necessary... I know I made you angry. When Rocket criticized a song you loved, you said that you will remove him from your friends list if he hadn't apologized!" You tell him trying to get him to accept your apology.

"But Rocket is Rocket. You're my whole life." He says putting the box of chocolates down to take your hands.

"Do you think I should thank you after this?" says Rocket who was watching the whole scene. He had bet Drax that after your criticism he would leave you while Drax claimed that Peter would close his eyes.

"I deserve these!" Rocket says taking the box of chocolates. Peter tries to stop him but you hold him back and kiss him: "what have I done to deserve a boy like you?".

◇ he LOVES when you call him Star-lord. No one call him like this so when you use that nickname you remind him of his mom. The first time you call him Star-lord it probably went like this:

It was your first official date. Peter organized a romantic dinner for you (unsuccessfully, I mean... it is Peter in the end): he asked Groot to grow bright flowers in your favorite color, he made your favorite dish and he kidnapped your favorite singer from Earth to have a concert just for you (it was his sister's idea) and he lit some candles. He has never been more proud of himself when he saw your smile. But your smile turns into an angry face:

"Peter Quill you kidnapped a human!" and his answer made you less angry:

"Yeah, just for you my little one".

You had a quiet dinner while talking calmly when you were attacked by a monster.

"Where is our teammate?" you ask terrified and looking for your weapons.

"There is a little problem..."

meanwhile

"I am Groot"

"Yeah Groot, We really needed this holiday away from Peter"

"Where we are?"

"On Earth, idiot! You don't listen the plan? We must not make it clear that a human has been kidnapped"

"Are you saying that it's just us two here!?"

"It's an exaggeration to say that there's only us... there's the spaceship, the ground, the sky, a singer fainted from fear under the makeshift stage..."

You hid under the table because Peter is convinced that if you don't see the monster the monster won't see you. And that was it (you weren't expecting it actually) and he went away. You decided to go for a walk holding hands and while you watch the sunset you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I think I love you"

"I think I love too..."

"What do people say on these occasions?" he asks, looking you in the eyes.

"I love you my Star-lord" and then he kisses your lips.

"I love that name on your lips"

"Why do you love that name?" you ask with a smile and your lips are still close

"My mother used to call me with it" he says soflty and a tear falls on his cheek and you wipe it away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to remind you..."

"I'm not crying from sadness, I'm happy because I found a beautiful and sweet girl just like her" after he kisses you again. This time for longer.

◇ He would almost never call you by your name (not that he has forgotten it of course... but just to be safe don't ask him). He uses cute nicknames for every occasion like:

sweetheart

Honey bun

Cutie pie

Pumpkin: only for Halloween

Bunny

Little one

At first it embarrassed you but as time went on you started to love them and maybe you could start using them for him too... who knows how he would react.

"My sweetheart can you please give me my shirt?"

"Yeah bu- how did you call me?" he says and his cheeks turn red with embarrassment and he starts to stutter.

"Sweetheart... you don't like it?"

"I love it but I'm the one with the nicknames!"

"I can't use it?"

"Of course you can,” he says chuckling "repeat it"

"Sweetheart?" his smile gets even bigger and he walks over to you and hugs you tightly.

"You'll make me die from too much sweetness one day."

Thanks to @aidansloth for correcting the bad mistakes I make! I'm not good at English so excuse me. I hope you enjoy them!♡

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter: more feitan

feitan cooks

like he will get in the apron and the oven mitts on. bro will make a full course meal just so he doesn't have to eat food touched by other people. bro is that much of a paranoid weirdo

i also find it interesting that he is a germophobe despite his line of work. or maybe because of his line of work. who knows.

but all i can think about is him going out with the boys to eat and just having a little lunchbox that he eats out of instead of ordering with the others. and at that point they have to like, take a bite of the food they're eating to show him it's not poisoned but he's still like 'ew. gross. stop that.'

feitan lunchbox.....

he packs like. onigiris and pork buns.

he'll steal potato chips but just because they're dry and in a sealed bag.

and hard candy, but only like. sweet tarts.

he'll cook for himself mostly, since the others are perfectly fine with eating out but no one is allowed in the kitchen or they get stabbed with forks.

his actual cooking is mid, it's not bad but it's not to die for. it's comforting in a like. 'man this chef aint shit but he makes a mean bowl of rice gahdam' way. like a home chef but he's really mean about it.