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twstedreamweaver · 3 months

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Showering HCs with the Twisted Wonderland Boys

What it's like to shower with the guys ~

Characters Featured: Heartslabyul (Riddle, Trey, Deuce), Savanaclaw (Ruggie, Jack), Octavinelle (Floyd, Azul), Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Sebek, Silver) Missing some of the guys because I just couldn't come up with anything CW: g/n reader, fluff, SFW but some minor suggestive content, some crack, established romantic relationship with reader

The More-or-Less 'Normal' Showerers

Has a strict routine in the shower but likes showering alongside you. They'll be quiet, just enjoying your presence. You'll notice how much they seem to relax, and the water just completely washes their worries and stress away. They insist on washing themselves, unless you really beg, which they will finally relent (they greatly enjoy this, they just prioritize being of service to you). Showering with you is one of their favorite parts of the day. Very susceptible to teasing. Water is on the warmer side.

Riddle, Jamil

Sets the water to your preferred temperature. Your shower routine together is pretty run-of-the-mill, but sweet, nonetheless. He is particularly fond of talking to you in the shower as you both get ready for the day. He cherishes these little intimate conversations you have as you go about your separate routines. Always happy to wash you if you ask or look like you need help. While he does enjoy showering with you, he doesn't mind showering alone.

Silver does occasionally fall asleep mid-shower, so do be prepared to catch him.

Trey, Silver

Greatly enjoys showering with you. He especially loves washing your hair and body. Enjoys it immensely when you wash him. He will get soap in your eyes (unintentionally and to his great dismay) and will have to be taught how to properly wash your hair, etc., but he is a willing learner and very enthusiastic. Prefers his showers on the hot side.

For Kalim, he takes very long showers classic rich kid behavior. I also feel like he has servants do a lot of things for him, so he might not even know how to do skincare/haircare, etc.

For Epel and Deuce, they take shorter showers due to his upbringing.

Kalim, Epel, Deuce

Mostly showers alone but will agree to shower with you if you ask him very nicely. Whenever you shower at anything that's NOT a lukewarm temperature, he will Insist that the water is actively harming your hair and skin and forcefully change the temperature on you. Has a strict routine that you are not to disrupt. Always enthusiastically helps you with your haircare and skincare.

"Did you wish to boil to death in this shower!?"

Vil

Will steal use your hair products. He also shampoos and conditions his ears and tail. If you ask to wash them for him, he will begrudgingly allow you to, but only in exchange for something. This whole "Fine. If it'll getcha to stop botherin' me-" is entirely a show on his end though, he loves having his ears touched. The tsundere in him will admit it with enough teasing. Accustomed to short showers as force of habit but will abuse the hell out of free hot water whenever he gets the chance.

Ruggie

He takes showers very differently when alone versus when showering with you. Normally, his showers are cold and efficient, wasting no time in getting on with his day.

However, with you, he likes to take his time. He places great importance on the acts of washing you and you washing him. He gets really happy when you wash tail and ears and will gruffly admit that he enjoys it while his tail is fervently wagging (to his chagrin). Social grooming between partners is an important ritual for wolves and Jack is no different.

He will subconsciously lick or gently nibble you sometimes, and when he notices, he'll get very embarrassed and apologize. If you reciprocate, he will be ecstatic.

Jack

The Nervous Wrecks

Finds showering with you (at first) mortifying. Eventually, once he understands that you are not judging him, he will enjoy the intimacy immensely.

He is very self-conscious of his body, so you'll need to seriously support and assure him that he's attractive, as he'll feel very vulnerable and will take a while to gain the confidence to shower 'normally'. Also, doesn't really know how to wash another person, so you'll have to show him. Before getting more used to showering with another person, he'll get embarrassed by any physical contact and tries to avoid looking at you entirely (he fails at this every time).

In Azul's case, he'll stay in human form for ease. Uses expensive hair products but knows very little about haircare due to never needing it in the Coral Sea (he's canonically a big cologne enjoyer, so he probably prioritizes scent).

For Idia, his hair is waterproof and doesn't need to be washed in the standard sense (source: just trust me bro). His hair can be brushed, but brushing doesn't do much and it never tangles anyway. Contrary to popular opinion, doesn't bring his phone in the shower (unless he's grinding out daily's and is running out of time); he's too busy trying to NOT focus on you. Also, you will have to remind him to take a shower, as he routinely forgets to take care of himself.

Azul, Idia

Would accidentally set the water too hot, burning you, resulting in him freaking out, apologizing, and punching the showerhead. Tries to rescue you and will carry you out of the shower like you're dying. You will have to repeatedly reassure him that you're fine. After getting that first experience out of the way, will insist on helping you every time you look like you're struggling (which is rarely, he is totally making this up as an excuse to wash your hair).

"Human! Your feeble arms cannot reach your back! I will wash it for you! No, this is NOT because I want to!"

Sebek

Very similar to Epel and Kalim, but more nervous and easily embarrassed. Very enthusiastic to help you in the shower, but also totally clueless. Knows very little about feminine hygiene or products, so keep that in mind if you use those. But he's eager to learn about your haircare or skincare routines and help you! He will look up WikiHow tutorials.

Easily flustered if you tease him or say something positive about his body. Will flex (in)discreetly and try to not sneakily at all get you to compliment him. He's not egocentric, he just likes being appreciated and little comments make his whole day.

Deuce

The Weirdos (affectionate)

Doesn't like showers, but will happily take baths with you, although he'll likely get bored fast. He will want to bathe in his eel form, which can be problematic in a small (or even large) bathtub. Also, he likes really cold, like arctic-level water. If you complain, he will just squeeze you and say that he can warm you up. Definitely the type to get handsy and also will probably try to drag you into the ocean to swim with him when he gets antsy.

He loves when you wash him. He finds it endearing, his Shrimpy acting like a little cleaner shrimp.

Like Azul, doesn't know much about haircare or skincare and doesn't really care either. He uses 5-in-1 a decent shampoo and conditioner actually. What can I say, he's an enigma (it's probably Jade's doing).

Floyd

Adores showering with you, but unlike the others, he doesn't enjoy showering for the conversations or the act of washing you, although he does enjoy the latter - no, he just relishes in the simple act of 'observing' staring at you.

You will get used to it after a while, but at first, it's a bit weird to watch him so intently observing you engaging in mundane activities like rinsing your hair.

If you say something or shoot him a strange look, he'll say something equal parts creepy and romantic.

Also, heavily emphasizes the importance of proper haircare and will make sure you use good products.

"Hmm? You want me to look away, mon cheri? No? You simply wish to know why? Ha ha! Would you scorn a blind man for accepting the gift of sight? No? Then you understand that asking me to avert my gaze from your ethereal beauté is akin to supplice!" who does this guy think he is

Rook

I will finish the hcs with all the guys when my brain decides to work.

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p0ssywhippedcream · 1 year

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Zuko has been with the gang for a while now and you've been able to teach him how to do most any chore. He can set up tents, bathe Appa and even dry clothes off without lighting them on fire (it happened a couple times tho). But the one thing he just can't get is cooking.

He stands beside you as you lower a pot over the fire gently, his eyebrows knitted. He watches as you angle it so there's no chance of it falling as it small bubbles appear; signaling its commence of boiling. You sit down on a flat stone and take out a small knife, gesturing a c'mere motion with the blade.

"Can you hand me the tomatoes?" He grabs them and passes them over, ears flushing when your hand brushes his.

"You're going to boil them?" You giggle and shake your head.

"No, this is for the broth and the beef. Everybody has been craving it but Aang is a vegetarian, remember?"

He nods and pops a squat next to you on a large rock. Your ankles touch and his toes flex. "You're making him something separate." You agreed with a hum and begin to slice the fruit over a bowl in your lap.

"That's nice of you." You glance up briefly and give him a sheepish grin. He finds it endearing.

As you focus your attention back to the task at hand, Zuko wonders what he should say next. Before he can really consider it, you toss a piece of tomato at Momo and ask, "Your uncle makes tea right?"

"Uh, yeah. Uncle loves tea."

"How come you haven't learned how to?"

He doesn't want to admit that he didn't pay attention when he should've, when he had time to notice how Iroh did it. "I wasn't taught."

"Do you want me to teach you?" You look up and pause your slicing. The bowl has a small stack of tomato piled inside that tumbles when you shake it.

"I'm not very good at uh.. making things." You snicker, remembering when he burned lettuce a couple weeks ago.

"Yeah, I noticed," You smile to let him know you're teasing and he returns it a little shyer. "I could, though. Teach you. You don't have to be good at it."

"What's the point of teaching me if I'm not good at it?"

"I like spending time with you." You shrug and reach for an avocado across him. Your arm is just too short and he takes the opportunity to grab it for you, turning his head so you don't see his blush. "And you'd get the hang of it, tea is like.. your birthright."

Zuko chuckles. He always thought his birthright was violence. He wonders if it still is. He doesn't say that. "Because Uncle owned a tea shop?"

"Yeah," You laugh, "And you can use your fire bending, yunno? But I'm not sure if you have the patience for it."

"Why's that?" Suddenly Sokka is next to him, holding a pile of sticks and asking you where you want them. You point next to the fire and notice the water jumping in the pot. Standing up, you motion for the broth ingredients and Zuko hands you the pre-mixed bowl. Sokka is quickly distracted by Toph demanding to know where Aang went and Zuko turns back to you.

The crackle of the fire comforts the atmosphere as the sun sets, giving your face an orange hue that dances dramatically from your chin to your nose. You tuck a piece of hair away and Zuko can see the way your eyes glitter in the soft glow, your pupils swallowing the color of their rims.

It's silent for a bit, Zuko simply watching as you stir the pot and occasionally call out for Sokka and Toph to stop arguing. You set down the ladle and pick up a bowl of assorted vegetables and fruits, passing it to Zuko.

"Can you find that bread from the village? I think it's in Katara's bag?" He disappears to rummage and returns holding a half-eaten loaf.

"Okay, that should be enough," You remark as you turn away from cooking and towards his returning figure. You make eye contact with him and your nose wrinkles in the moonlight as you smile, "Can you cut that in half and make a sandwich?"

He sits down and follows your instructions, first wiping the knife you'd used earlier before slipping it in the loaf and beginning to separate it. His dominant hand slices down as he keeps it steady in the other and as he gets to the end, he takes his chance to look at you.

Your feet are bare on the ground, a little dirty and as you shift from side to side, your heels lift enough he can see your bridges. A daffodil is stuck to the bottom of your left foot, staring at him before being engulfed in a step again. You move around the pot, pushing the ingredients stuck to the side back in the middle and the flower is left upside down on a rock.

His finger burns in pain and he notices a small cut. He had finished slicing the bread and had dug into his hand. Cursing, he sets aside your assignment and stands up holding his hand as blood flows slowly. You notice immediately and rush over. You bend down and rip a bit of your skirt, wrapping it around his hand and shushing him back down onto the rock again.

"It's not too deep, you should be okay." He nods, hissing as the fabric rubs the sensitive flesh. "It hurts?"

"Yeah." You press his hand towards you, checking it again and clutching it from the palm.

"You can go back to cooking." You look up at him confused and he continues, "It might burn."

"It's fine, it needs to marinate. You need my attention more."

The firelight covers the furious burning of his face, "Are you sure? It's a small cut."

Your expression is hard to see in the dark but the coy fluttering of your features is obvious enough. You're nervous, and a shade darker on your cheeks and oh, you're blushing too.

"I care about you." You murmur and it's a blessing he hears it.

"I- I care about you too," He offers, the urge to look away would be worse if you weren't already doing that. He watches the twitch of your nose as your smile takes your lips again. You meet his gaze and he realizes how close you are. He feels your hot breath on his face and leans in just a bit more. "You look really... really pretty."

Your eyes crinkle in the corners as your mouth spreads wider and reveals your teeth, dimples making his heart flutter as he confesses, "You're glowing. The- the fire makes you glow."

You digest his words with a gentle laugh covered by your hand. "Yeah," You pause and quirk your head to the side, "You do."

He wants to faint and of course he doesn't know what to say. You help him out again and suddenly your nose is brushing his. "You like me?"

He nods because he's not sure he can speak without squeaking.

"I like you too.." Your words are felt on his lips as you get even closer. Your eyes dart across his face, seemingly checking for affirmation before your mouth is on his and all the blood rushes to his head. His hand comes up to hold your head as he kisses you back. For a second, it's so amazing as you lick across his bottom lip until pain is shooting up his hand and he has to pull away.

Your hair had brushed his still open cut and he cradled his hand a little closer to himself as you re-examine it. "Sorry.."

Zuko looks at you like you're crazy, "Don't be sorry."

You glance up and away, still flustered.

"I've liked you for so long," His admission fills the night wind and you prompt him to continue with wide eyes. He's a little quieter as he finishes with, "Since Ba Sing Se."

He misses your voice dearly as he waits for your answer. He gets it in the form of giggles ticklish as butterflies. He watches you with curiosity until you say, "I was wrong, you are patient."

He laughs too now and you both shake beside the fire with hands holding bellies. The spurt of broth leaping out of the pot brings you back and you scramble up to stir it. Zuko watches as you step over the daffodil again and it flips upright, showing him that it was two, smushed so closely it looked like one. He looks up at you in admiration as you taste the stew and feels a surge of affection for whatever luck landed him at your side tonight.

"You were wrong too," His face contorts in confusion and you elaborate, "You're good at making things... you made me like you."

He's the luckiest guy in the fire nation. He goes to tell you but you speak first. "And I want to teach you how to make tea, but I think I should let Iroh. When we find him."

Zuko's left with a mouth hanging open and a heart stuck between missing his Uncle and loving you for all your kindness and thoughtful nature. He settles on both. "I don't know if he'll forgive me."

You make a strange face as you gaze at him over the open flame, it looks intense in the orange heat. "You don't give his love for you enough credit."

Then you're coming over and pecking him on the cheek, making him dizzy again. You bring your lips to his ear and whisper "I think he'll do anything if you let him teach you to make tea."

His smile is warm and flustered when you teasingly add, "I would, and I like you a little bit less than he does."

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hothammies · 6 months

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the party leader, mike wheeler - apoc au character details + poll under the cut!

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mike's role in the party:

a scouter - essentially plans runs, checks areas first to ensure safety, and directs the runners during supply runs

assigns basic survival chores at the beginning of each day (laundry, boiling water, patrol, hunting, etc.)

is the "face" of the party -> always the one to negotiate with people of other groups

even though the party likes to give him shit for being kind of rude and bossy about how he talks to them in "leader" mode - they always hang onto his every word! they love and respect him deeply

kind of like a tired dad whenever he's not fighting with someone else -> basically watches over everyone to make sure they're okay

would never hesitate to do something deplorable to protect the party: family first

skills + hobbies:

considered the designated driver (along with max): nancy taught him when he was younger. he was scared about being useless due to his inability to shoot and aim guns so nancy helped him find something useful. max teaches him how to drive manual so that he can drive her muscle car (its how they get over their distaste for each other)

writes an entry in a journal that he stole every day! he lets will doodle in the margins of the paper :)

loves to read whatever's around - particularly interested in history, sci-fi, and old journals from people before the apocalypse (reads them with dustin and el -> they are nosy as hell and live for the drama)

great at using machetes and hatchets -> do NOT let this boy shoot a gun. he will accidentally hurt you and himself

good at fixing up guns and navigating - lucas (guns) and dustin (navigating) taught him :D

quirks / fun facts:

he likes to switch around the pins on his jacket a lot! the party find pins around to give to him (range from terrible to wearable)

since he's the only boy that likes to tie up his hair, max and el like to doll up and play around with his hair during their downtime

is very annoying and particular when it comes to doing survival chores (out of love) -> makes sure that the chores are divided equally among all of them and that no one gets the same chores twice in a row

--- other notes: mike was the first character i had in mind when thinking about this au (no surprise there) and the drawing of him sitting cross legged with a machete in his hand was the first ever "official" drawing i made for this :D i tried to make apoc mike similar to canon mike in terms of his temperament, his hero complex, his self-sacrificial tendencies, his inability to appropriately process his romantic feelings, his natural leadership and his personality. about mike's inability to use guns -> looking at mike's character dnd sheet, his dexterity is low and s1 mike wheeler cannot aim for shit either (see his rock throw). the reason he's most comfortable with machetes (and hatchets) is because of their versatility as both weapons and tools! just wanted to share because i think mike needed a nerf and him not being able to shoot guns is both in character and funny as hell to me i've had mike and will's char sheets done for a while and i really love the way they look :) i'm excited to post will's next! i'm working on the character sheets in batches of two, so which duo are yall most interested to see next? i'll work on them based on the poll results and post them next week at the earliest :) i'll prob also try out some concept designs for the demogorgon-like zombies sometime soon as well!

#shoutout to the acswy writers for sticking the idea of mike driving manual cars in my head!#mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things fanart #st apoc au #byler #sammi's art

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hells-wasabii · 6 months

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How would each of the Hell characters(Hotel group, Lucifer, Overlords, Vees) do while cooking entirely on their own? Can be platonic or romantic, whichever you want

A/N: So I know I said 2, but the other one isn’t ready yet I’m still writing it. It’s gonna be pretty big too since it’s that velvette part 2. But I had to get my cat spayed today so I’ve been super busy all day keeping her out of trouble and from hurting herself :/ but anywho, enjoy!

Characters: All that I write for

Type: Hesdcanons (hazbin cast cooking headcanons)

Charlie

With Charlie, I’m a little torn. On the one hand, she’s a princess, so cooking would likely be more of a novelty considering she likely had staff to do it for her. But this is Charlie we’re talking about. She would go out of her way to learn how to cook. Wouldn’t give up either, not until she could do it on her own. I would imagine that she started learning from Vaggie and reading cookbooks.

Vaggie

When it comes to Vaggie, she can cook some, but she’s definitely super humble about it, brushing off any compliments because it’s ‘just food’. If the issue is pressed I can see her getting a little embarrassed about it. It’s mostly dishes that she had been taught while she was growing up, along with basic dishes that don’t necessarily require a honed skill to make.

Angel

Angel can cook, though he doesn’t exactly put much effort into it. I can definitely see him just throwing something together so he can eat and move on with whatever else he has going. Baking is a different story. I can really imagine while he was growing up he would sneak his way into the kitchen while his mother and Molly were baking. He picked it up pretty easily. And as someone who enjoys baking let me just say that his extra set of arms would be so helpful.

Husk

Husk was an entertainer in life, growing up in a casino, learning the trades in the house. That also includes the kitchens. Sure he likely didn’t spend a whole lot of time there but he still picked up a thing or two. So he’d be able to hold his own fairly well when it comes to making a homecooked meal.

Alastor

While it’s canon that the radio demon can cook, I feel like he specifically likes to cook recipes his mother left behind. Cooking recipes from his youth reminds him of joining his mother in the kitchen whipping something up for lunch and helping her prep for dinner. He’s not all that adventurous in the kitchen, though. He likes to stick with what he knows and what he grew up with.

Niffty

Having died in the 50s as a young housewife, I genuinely believe that she at least knows some fad recipes, like those salads and casserole recipes. Jello molds too. But that’s not to say that she wouldn’t know some basic stuff. I can definitely see Niffty being the type to try to create whole new recipes with varying, mostly horrifying results.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious is a genius, there’s no doubt about that, but the man can’t cook. At all. He’d burn water honestly. But baking? Oh yeah, he can bake with out a doubt(but not necessarily the decorating part), it’s basically science, but not cook. He’d quite honestly have the Egg Bois help, but let’s be honest here, that’d be a disaster too.

Cherri Bomb

I’ll admit, I wasn’t to sure about Cherri. She just doesn’t seem like the type to cook. Nah. Cherri is the queen of takeout. She can boil water but that’s really about it. Honestly, she’s only really a couple of steps above Sir Pentious, but she can’t bake either. Sometimes though, before Angel went off to the hotel, she would go out and buy ingredients and stuff and go to his apartment and they (he) would make something.

Vox

This man absolutely can cook, and he’s pretty damn good at it too. Considering he’s the television demon, he’s going to have several cooking shows. Hell, he even stars in a couple of them. That being said, he’s not one to do things half-assed. Sure, a lot of cooking shows have stuff that was prepared beforehand, but with Vox’s he goes out of his way to actually make the dishes in real time.

Valentino

I stand by my headcanons from my Valentino posts. He can cook, but it’s honestly a solid 50-50 on whether or not it’s burnt or edible. He’s pretty easily distracted, whether it’s a phone call or something else entirely, so if it's a dish that you have to pay close attention to, it’s likely to not turn out right.

Velvette

Velvette can do some light cooking, but nothing too extravagant. She’s got more important things to do, such as keeping Vox and Valentino on track. With a schedule as busy as hers, I don’t think she would cook often, preferring either Vox’s cooking or takeout. Oh but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t take a picture and post it, because it’s Velvette, of course she does. Oh! But She’s probably been on Vox’s show as some sort of celeb guest type deal, the dish they made definitely stuck with her, so she might make it from time to time.

Zestial

Considering how long Zestial has been around, I would be more surprised if he couldn’t cook. You can’t convince me that after a while he at one point went through hobbies like a revolving door. Cooking absolutely would have been one of them. This man would absolutely try making the craziest things. He’d be up to date on all of the cooking fads, know recipes and cooking methods from several time periods and cultures. With him, there’s no telling what he might cook up next.

Carmilla

While I don’t think that she would really set aside time to cook often, she’s pretty skilled in the kitchen. Carmilla would likely have a couple of nights out of the month set aside to cook a meal with/for her and the girls, a tradition that carried on from their life before hell. She’d even take the opportunity to try new things while cooking.

Rosie

Oh, Rosie can absolutely cook, it’s canon that its a hobby of hers. She’s very well versed in a multitude of cooking methods, and while she may not entirely like a whole lot of new-age gadgets in the kitchen, she can’t really deny the fact that they can be quite useful. I’m willing to bet that she would have an Instapot (they’re great I have two and one of them has an air fryer attachment)

Adam

Adam would never openly admit it, but he knows how to cook. He was the first man, he would have had to learn eventually, even if it was something as simple as preparing meats. That being said, he can grill. I’d be willing to bet that he’d host a little barbeque after the annual exterminations for the exorcists, maybe even enter into grilling competitions.

Lute

Lute’s honestly a bit of a wildcard when it comes to cooking. She might have been able to cook while she had been alive, but nowadays not so much. It had been a long time since she actively made anything, so she’d be pretty rusty. But other than the basics, I don’t really see her being able to be too creative in terms of cooking either. She’d honestly probably stick to what she knows and wouldn’t stray too far away from that.

Emily

I don’t necessarily think that seraphim would really need to eat, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t or don’t. In Emily’s case, I would imagine it as a scenario where she wanted to do something to get closer to humanity. They were her charge after all, or rather their state of happiness. But all humans eat and many find joy in doing so and even in the act of cooking, so she absolutely would be thrilled to learn! She’s getting better at it by the day.

Sera

Sera had likely done the same as Emily when she was a young angel, though I don’t see her sticking with it. I definitely think that she taught Emily to start her on her little culinary journey. She can cook, she just… doesn’t. I’d even go as far as to say it’s been centuries since she’s actually cooked a meal of any kind. That being said, if she were to jump into the kitchen nowadays, she probably wouldn’t have a very easy time finding her way around.

Lucifer

Lucifer is a man of many talents. He can absolutely cook, possibly even Michelin level, he just chooses not to. He likely just considers it a novelty of sorts, considering he has the power to simply poof food right in front of him. Honestly, it’s pretty helpful whenever he’s depressed and doesn’t feel like making anything. But, when it comes to his family and friends, he’s more than happy to whip something up.

Lilith

Another one who would likely consider cooking to be a novelty. Considering how she’s the second most powerful being in hell, and fiercely independent with more important things to worry about. Lilith wouldn’t concern herself with cooking unless it was with her family, and even then it likely didn’t happen that often after Charlie grew up.

Bonus:

Alastor Cat

Would wind up burning what ever building its in down. Was it intentional? Was it an accident? The world may never know

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disturbedwoodelf · 8 months

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🌶️ Moonstruck 🌶️

Warnings: cursing, asshole!Matt, Dom!Matt, party, enemies to lovers, best friends brother, mentions of drinking/drugs, smut, fingering, male receiving oral, face fucking, female receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, slight degradation kink, praise kink, slut shaming, squirting, overstimulation. Just all around rough & nasty smutty smut smut sMUT.

masterlist

Part 2?

You knew from the moment you met him, you hated him and everything he did.

His smirk, his smile, the way he did everything he could to make sure you were watching him. He always did everything in his power to make you hate him. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a sort of attraction towards him. His hair, and the way he would put his fingers through it.

God, his fingers. Every time you’d see him hold the steering wheel like his life depended on it and his fingers would tap against it, going along with the beat of the shitty trap music that Chris chose for the night, you couldn’t help but imagine them inside you. You’d just assumed that you were so sexually frustrated that you were just making up the hate in your head. But when he would make his comments, it reassured that hate.

Which brings you to now

The music was loud, people were dancing, the room was filled with the shitty smell of weed and cheap beer, there were people on the coffee table, snorting god knows what. You’re 4 shots in and the cup in your hand was filled with your liquor of choice for the night, hoping to somewhat get rid of the feelings you undoubtedly have for him.

You were wearing skin tight little black dress, tights and black boots, and if we’re being honest, you didn’t wear any underwear in hopes of meeting someone to take your mind off of Matt.

You see your best friend, Nick in the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with water, and you make your way towards him.

“Hey, babe.” You say to him, he smiles at you. You two continue talking, smiling at Chris in the corner with a girl, trying his hardest to flirt. You both are assessing the situation, and you see her nudge his shoulder jokingly, and he takes that opportunity to snake his arm over her shoulder. The two start to walk upstairs, giggling.

You both high five each other, Nice job Chris.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined when you see him, and he sees you. “Ugh.” He says as he walks past you, grabbing a beer from the cooler. “Ugh? Why’d you ‘ugh’ me?” You ask, mocking his tone, he slams the cooler down, and opens the bottle, “because you are so insufferable.” Nick takes this opportunity to walk away, fed up with constantly hearing you two bicker. “I’m insufferable? You’re the one who always goes out of your way to make some kind of comment towards me, so what is it now?”

“It’s the the way you’re dressed. You always try way too hard, you’re obviously asking for it.” this made your blood boil. “I’m asking for it?! What am I asking for?!” You yell to him, “you’re obviously asking to be fucked tonight. It’s honestly so disgusting, you’re such a slut, all the time.” Fuck. Hearing him say that made you wet immediately, you cross your legs, in order to try and hide your arousal, “let me guess, that turned you on?”, you look down, face a crimson red, biting your lip as you look down at your feet. Matt grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him, “i think you need to be taught a lesson, hm? What do you say about that?”, you immediately shake your head yes, “I need to hear the words come from your mouth, princess.” He says, “fuck, yes. Yes, teach me a lesson, please Matt.” He grabs the cup from your hands, slamming in on the counter, along with his.

He takes your hand, leading you up the stairs, opening his bedroom door, pushing the two of you into it, and locking the door behind him. “You need to be taught a lesson, yeah? Let’s see how well you listen you fucking slut.” He throws you on the bed, “I need to make sure you’re okay with this. Do I have permission to touch you, princess?”

“Yes, Matt. All of it.” He walks over to the side of the bed, grabbing your face in his hands, kissing you roughly. You whimper out in relief, finally fulfilling that need you’ve had for him. He grabs your throat, applying slight pressure, cutting off your breath. He continues kissing you for a few seconds before making his way onto the bed as well, lying on top of you, kissing your lips. He grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly, making his way down to the crook of your neck, kissing and leaving dark bruises to form. He takes your other hand, lightly squeezing your tit, rubbing his hand over your nipple, “Matt, please, touch me more.” He immediately makes his way down to the bottom of your dress, lifting it off of your sweaty body, “no underwear? Such a fucking slut.” He hisses.

He takes his hands, rubbing your inner thighs, inching his was closer to your heat, teasing you. “Pleas, Matt, touch me already.” You whine, not being able to take it anymore, “such a fucking slut for me, princess, hm?” You nod you head quickly, he takes his hand, lightly smacking your heat, “use your words princess,” you moan out, “fuck, yes, m’ such a slut you you Matt. Only you.” He takes that opportunity to roughly tear the crotch of you tights. He puts his middle and index finger in his mouth, getting it wet with his salvia and taking his hands and placing them on your wet folds, “so fucking wet for me already.” He says through gritted teeth, rubbing the insides of your folds, avoiding your sensitive clit purposely to tease you.

He finally makes his way down and shoves his head in between your thighs, and starts sucking your clit, he takes his right hand and sticks his middle and index finger inside your cunt, curling at an ungodly rate. Your let’s start to shake as you feel your orgasm coming.

He takes his other hand and holds down your thighs, as you start lifting them to relive the pressure, he starts moaning when he feels you pulse underneath him, your orgasm beginning. Suddenly, he removes his face, slapping your sensitive clit, causing you to whine out in frustration. “No coming yet, princess,” he then places his fingers between your folds, taking your wetness and placing it in your mouth “I made you this wet, didn’t I? Suck them, princess. I want you to know how you taste.” After you suck his fingers clean, he gets up from the bed, and takes his belt and jeans off, “come on princess, get on your knees.” You comply, and get off the bed as well. He takes off his boxers, his already hard cock springing free and hitting his stomach, and uses his hand to pump it, “come on baby, I wanna feel your mouth around me.”

You take his cock into your hands, pumping up and down as he groans. You lick a stripe up his cock, starting at the base, and then start licking the tip, “fuck, just like that y/n.” You then take his cock into your mouth, pursing your lips and sucking, jacking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, “fuck, ‘s good baby.” He grabs your hair from behind you, creating a ponytail and pulling you away from his cock, “you’re too soft with it babygirl.” He then stars fucking your face, making you take every inch of his cock. You gag every time it hits the back of your throat, tears streaming down your face as he barely lets your breathe; but you can’t help but feel turned on as you see his eyes squeezed closed, his mouth agape and him speaking all kinds of profanity. Knowing that you were making him feel that good, he starts to twitch in your mouth, but pulls out before he can cum.

“Back on the bed, I want to cum in that pretty pussy of yours.” He demands, you comply, lying back down on the bed. He makes his way over to the bed, and out of nowhere flips you over with one hand, “on your hands and knees princess.” You get onto your hands and knees as he gets on the bed, jerking himself off. He takes his cock, up to your pussy, teasing your wetness. “Do you deserve it baby? I don’t think you do.” You moan out, almost in defeat. “I do Matty, please.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think you do. You came here looking like such a whore, and I don’t think it was meant for me.” It wasn’t. But, it was to keep your mind off of him, “I just wanted to get you off my mind. I’ve been craving your cock since the moment I met you.” You whine, arching your back, craving some kind of contact. “Is that so? I guess it’s mutual, baby. Every time I see your pretty tits, I can’t help but imagine what they’d look like with you bouncing on my cock. I jerk off to every picture you post. I can barely contain myself when you’re in the room.”

“Please, Matty, I-i need it.” You whine, he then takes that as an invitation and shoves his cock into your pussy harshly, not letting you adjust before roughly grabbing your hips. You moan out in relief, “oh fuck Matty, oh my god.” He continues to furiously fuck you, “that’s my little slut. You’re only allowed to be my slut.” He reaches down and grabs your hair, pulling it into a ponytail once again and roughly pulling it to the point that you think he’s going to pull all of your hair out.

He takes his free hand and roughly spanks it with every thrust, creating red welts. “Oh fuck, Matty I’m gonna cum.” He fastens his pace, “you’re not allowed to cum without me, keep going baby, you’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you.” This is about to make you lose your minds you feel your legs start to shake, “fuck I’m gonna come too baby,” you feel his cock start to switch, signaling he’s coming undone, “cum for me princess, come on, cum all over my cock.” He moans out as you feel his warm cum fill you up, he’s a groaning and moaning mess, his thrusts are becoming sloppier, overstimulating himself, “c’mon baby, I know you can cum too.” Eager to make you cum, he reaches down and does rough circles on you clit, sending you over the edge.

Your legs seize, as you start to reach your orgasm, but again, he pulls out of you. He slips you on your back again, reinserting his cock and lifting your legs on his shoulders, “I want to see you come undone on me baby.” He’s thrusting so furiously that you feel like you’re going to pass out. You feel yourself get light headed, your gets shake again as he starts rubbing your clit again, “fuck yeah, c’mon baby, c’mon.” Your body finally lets go, moans spewing out of you mouth like a waterfall, “fuck, fuck, Matt! Fuck!” You whine. his thrusts never stopped and circular motions on your clit never ceased and instead got impossibly faster. Your legs were shaking and spasming, and then bursts of wetness erupted from you. He pulled out to allow your liquid to fully shoot out and watched in wonder as your body convulsed under him, as you squirted all over your his cock.

“Fuck oh my god baby.” Everything was blurry as you tried to see his face, your body still shaking and convulsing. Eventually, your body went limp after a few minutes, your heavy breathing being the only thing heard in the room, other than the loud thumping of music from the outside of the door. You look over to the right of you, seeing Matt kneeling by the bed next to your face, caressing it and placing loving kisses to your forehead, “You did so fucking good babygirl. I’m so proud of you. Oh my god.”

You feel your eyes start to get heavy, the entire situation taking all of your energy. “Hey, before you fall asleep, go pee.” He states as you whimper, “I can’t move.” He chuckles, lifting you off the bed and carrying you to the bathroom connected to his room.

Hi! I really hope you enjoyed this!

how would you guys feel about a short part 2 of just him doing aftercare, and the morning after? Let me know!

Don’t forget to request by sending me a DM or just sending in an ask!

I look forward to hearing your feedback! 🤍

-hales ☁️

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #Matt Sturniolo Smut #smut #HARD SMUT #rough kink #fandom #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolos #nicolas sturniolo #best friends brother #enimes to lovers

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revasserium · 2 months

Note

Why does this scream second chance romance?

reqs are open!

at first sight

hayato suo; 6,284 words; fluff, slight angst, fem!reader, no "y/n", passing mentions of divorce, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort (a little), the slowest of burns, suo is a simp, introspection, more plot than not

summary: and isn’t it strange, that a person doesn’t have to be dead to serve a haunting, how there only need be absence and sorrow and the utterly world-ending ache of what used to be?

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long or this self-indulgent but welp.

He sees you sometimes in his dreams, in the spaces right before he falls asleep — that sweet, weightless, liminal space where anything and everything is possible, even probable. He sees the shape of your laughter, feels the weight of your breath, can almost taste the sugarplum sweetness of your smile. He’d lose himself, then, in the firefly lights of your eyes.

On those nights, he wakes up with a scream curdling up the back of his throat like soured milk.

Because no matter how hard he tries to hold onto the good memories, the ones bathed in the precious, pale gold of summer sun, truth always slips through like a sharp, silver knife. Cold. Ruthless. Unrelenting.

“— so, I know we don’t know each other very well but… you’ve done so much for our shop and my grandma is so grateful and… it always makes me so happy to see you come by —”

The girl in front of him is pretty, in the delicate, unassuming way that all young girls might be called pretty. She is dark, pin-straight hair and thin-rimmed glasses. Suo can tell that she’s put on a sparkly sheen of lip-gloss just for this occasion. Her cheeks are tinted sunset pink; there’s a letter in her hands.

“Thank you,” he says, dipping his head, his hand linked behind his back, his expression schooled into one of polite affectation, the most gentle rejection. He listens to her run herself out, babbling on about visits and admiration and the shape of him outside the shop window, how her heart would skip a beat. He finds himself, wistfully, thinking about the shape of you — when you were small enough to wiggle under the fence in his backyard, dirt caked under your nails, your hair always chopped short, one of your front teeth missing as you tossed pebbles at his windows.

“I’m… sorry,” he says, finally, when the girl presses the letter into the center of his chest, bowing low enough for her long silky hair to cover her face. He slowly folds his fingers over the letter, giving her hand a squeeze as he presses it back towards her.

“B-but…” she looks up; there are tears in her eyes, “why…?”

“I suppose,” he says, voice light and conversational, almost as if he were remarking on the weather, “I’m just not the dating type.”

The girl mumbles something before sniffling and wiping at her eyes. She is, Suo admits, not a very pretty crier. But then again, he thinks, most people aren’t. She nods again, as if to herself, clutching her unopened letter to her chest before dropping into another deep bow and dashing off. Suo can hear the clipped echoes of her sobs as she races down the near empty streets, and he sighs.

He turns on his heels and makes his slow way back to his own house, the place small and empty, but clean. The single wooden shelf is lined with books, alphabetized. His futon is folded neatly in his closet. He goes through the motions of making tea, pouring the boiling water over the dried leaves, watching them unfurl. He breathes in deep and thinks of you —

You were the one who first taught him how to brew tea, your small hands not yet big enough to hold a teapot proper, but whatever you’d lacked in skill, you made up for in determination. He’d always admired that about you, the sheer recklessness of your nature that bled, somehow, into courage in his young mind.

“Careful! It’s hot…” he’d warned, reaching out to catch your wrist, but too late, the water had already spilled a little and you wince, but you don’t let go, your arms quaking as you set the scalding teapot down, biting down on your lips to keep from crying out.

“I know it’s hot! But you gotta use hot water if you wanna make good tea!”

And there, through the misty haze of steam rising from the pair of cups, sitting across the table from you, Suo thinks you’re the most beautiful creature in the entire world.

He loses you, he reflects, the same way he loses most things in his life — accidentally and to the well-tempered beat of fate from which no one can escape. One minute you were right there in front of him and the next, well…

“Moving…?” he says the word as if he’d never heard it before. You sigh, nodding, staring listlessly into empty space, your knees curled up and pressed into your chest, your chin propped on your crossed arms.

Suo blinks, “But… where are you moving to?”

You shrug, “Tokyo, I think,” you say the word with a soft resignation only found in those who have seen and lost, seen and lost again. Suo thinks he understands; looking back, he’s not sure he did just then.

“Because of… your dad’s work?”

“Yeah. He says that if his company does well there, we’d be ‘set for life’ — whatever that means,” you say, picking at a bit of invisible lint on your sleeves.

“But… what about your mom? And the teashop?”

You purse your lips, mulling over your words as if you’ve got a sour cherry pit caught beneath your tongue.

“She says… she can’t leave it. So… she’s staying here.”

“Oh,” Suo says, sitting back against his bedroom wall. Even back then, he was smart enough to understand the implications.

You nod.

Judging by the look on your face, so are you.

“So… when…” he can’t really make out the words; there’s something stuck in his throat that feels oddly like an entire handful of sand.

“End of the month,” you say, finally looking up at him to catch his eyes. And there, he sees the insurmountable sadness, the longing he’d sometimes catch a glimpse of in the slanted summer light. As if you’re waiting for him to do something, to say something. He could never figure out what exactly it was you’d wanted him to do. To say.

Stay.

He’d later realize.

Please.

He’d repeat the words to himself in the encroaching dark, lying on his futon, watching the light cast on his walls go from white to gray to gold, and slowly, sinking into cool, hollow blackness.

Don’t go.

He mouths the words until he can almost taste the shape of them on his tongue. He swallows around them like a fistful of sand, flips onto his side, and tries to go to sleep.

You appear before him like a daydream, a near mirage in the summer heat. One second, he’s laughing with Nirei at something Sakura’s said, and the next, he’s standing stock still, staring at the end of the street where he’s sure he’d just seen you —

You look older now, but then so does he, and your hair is longer, but the shape of your laughter, the light of your eyes — he wouldn’t miss those anywhere. Not then, not now, not ever. Even after all these years.

“Suo-san…?” Nirei peers up into his face, tugging on his sleeve.

“Hm? Oh sorry — I just thought —” he glances back at the end of the street. Just a large van and a few young workers, hauling things out from the back.

“Oh, there’s a new teahouse opening in town! That must be them, moving in!” Nirei says, cheerful and oblivious as always.

“What’s a teahouse do, anyway?” Sakura asks, picking at his ear and flicking something off the end of his pinky.

“Uhm… make tea?” Nirei offers.

“Yeah, but don’t we all know how to make — where the hell’s he goin’?”

Suo takes off down the street, whipping passed their usual haunts, the taiyaki shop, the okonomiyaki stand, Pothos cafe, to the corner of the street, just where the sidewalk threatens to curve into some more residential place —

“Oi!” Sakura calls after him but he doesn’t listen.

There — that sound. Sugarplum and silver bells.

The space is undone, the door propped open with a wooden crate, the young men with the moving company tutting as they grunt and step around Suo to carry more boxes into the space, setting them down along the walls.

“— there’s good, oh no — not that one — that one goes… oh here’s good! Thanks!”

You.

He sees you like something from his wildest daydreams, the shape of you in smoke and stardust — the light twisting and twining around you as if it knows, treating you differently than it might all the other people and objects in the room, focusing around you to paint you in richer tones, in brighter lights and deeper shadows. The air seems to gather around you like a held breath.

And for a moment, Suo himself forgets quite completely that he himself might need to breathe as well.

You turn your eyes on him and the world seems to shift focus like a camera lens shifting zoom. Everything blurs, sound slows, drags, distorts. The room around you fades until it’s nothing more than a suggestion of shapes and space.

Suo sucks in a breath.

“Sorry — we’re not quite open y…”

Your voice trails off, and vaguely, Suo thinks that you sound different than you did before. But there’s still the same lovely cadence to your words, the rounded edges, the crispness of your diction, the sheer weight of your conviction in the things you say and how you might will them into truth.

“It’s… been a while,” he says. His own voice is weak, wavering, dry and scratchy and sounding nothing like himself but he sees the moment you recognize him, wholly and completely.

“H-Hayato-kun!”

“Oi, Suo — who’re you —” Sakura rams a shoulder into him at this exact moment, Nirei pattering close behind, trying to hold him back. Sakura blinks at you, his head flicking between you and Suo as if watching an invisible tennis match. And then, some understand seeps into the depths of his eyes and his cheeks go a ruddy shade of pink.

“Uh — sorry, I didn’t — who —” he looks bewildered and awkward all at once.

“We’re Suo-san’s friends — from Boufuurin!” Nirei cuts in, finally succeeding in tugging Sakura to one side and peering around the rather narrow door frame. He bows slightly before jumping half a meter in the air as a mover clears his throat loudly behind the group of boys now clogging the door way.

You jerk out of your reverie and point the mover towards an empty corner before making your way over, your steps steady. It takes everything in Suo’s being not to move, to neither shift forward, to press into your personal space just to make sure you’re really real, or to turn tail and run till he doesn’t have the breath to keep running any more.

He can’t tell which he’d prefer more, but he knows that neither is the best option right now.

So, he forces himself to stand still, to wait for you to come to him.

And you do, drifting over in a cloud of light linen and a flower patterned apron.

“Hi! Long time no see!”

Suo registers faintly that though your hair is longer, but your bangs are still choppy, and the ends of your hair badly cut, as if you’d gotten annoyed one day and tried to do it with kitchen scissors. He bites back a smile at the image. But there are other subtle changes too — the round babyfat on your cheeks slimming out to a sweet, heart-shaped face, the hugeness of your eyes, almost alien-like in your child years, now balanced out by the depths of your features. Your lips are small and plush as an overripe plum — that, at least, hasn’t changed in the slightest.

“Yeah… what… are you doing here?” he asks, still struck dumb by the sight of you here, in Makochi.

You raise an eyebrow and Suo almost feels the motion like a gut-punch, the familiarity of it overriding your older features until he can’t really tell if he’s living in the present or if he’s been suddenly and unwillingly shunted into the past.

You scoff, “Opening a teahouse, duh!”

Nirei laughs and Sakura lets out a snicker that kicks Suo out of his stupor. He clears his throat, having the decency to at least look abashed.

“Sorry, yes — that much is obvious. Is there… anything we can do to help?” he tries to ground himself in the established notions of aiding the citizens of Makochi. At least here, he knows what he has to do. His voice evens out, his smile returns.

You regard him with that same, questioning look before casting your eyes around the room.

“Sure! Plenty to do if you guys have the time —” and then you start pointing to the various tasks they might help with.

Nirei and Sakura jump to, already used to the pattern, with Suo trailing behind them, moving slower than usual, his limbs feeling heavy, as if they’re full of lead. It takes them the better part of the afternoon to help you set up most of the bigger pieces of furniture. And somehow, by the time they’re done, a good chunk of the freshman class is there, chattering and laughing, lounging at the newly built tables.

“Alright! Who wants some tea? Fresh and on the house — consider it payment for a job well-done!” you clap your hands, grinning as the boys all cheer.

Suo keeps quiet, sitting at a corner table with Sakura beside him, Nirei across. It isn’t until Sakura digs his elbow rather painfully into Suo’s ribs that he turns his face towards them, hitching a smile to his face.

“Hm?”

“What’s with you?” Sakura asks, never one to mince words. Across from them, Nirei nibbles on his lips as if debating on whether or not to add on to Sakura’s line of questioning

“What do you mean?” Suo asks, folding his hands carefully on the table. He’s not fooling anyone; he knows, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t at least try.

Finally, impulse wins out and Nirei blurts out —

“You’ve been staring at that girl all afternoon and — and I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that before. And you’re the one that gets the most confessions out of anyone in our year, so it figures that if this girl c-can capture your attention like this, she must be someone really special.”

He finishes slightly out of breath, before ducking behind his little notebook, even though he’s holding it upside-down.

Suo lets out a helpless laugh.

“I didn’t know you were keeping track of how many confessions all of us got — that statistic seems irrelevant to our fighting abilities, no?”

“Quit tryna change the subject,” Sakura cuts in, loudly.

Suo sighs, nodding, “I was getting there. We —” he cuts off, clearing his throat as he feels his entire body catch on the edge of the confession.

He takes a deep breath and starts again, this time, pressing a slight smile between his lips, taking on a tone as if telling a story about someone else.

“We were neighbors growing up.”

Nirei blinks, “Is… that it?”

Suo’s smile goes a bit stiff and plastic, “More or less.”

“Liar,” Sakura folds his arms, frowning as he stares Suo down. His cheeks are still pink, but there’s a determined glint behind his eyes that never bodes well.

“Ah… well,” Suo weighs his options, but then lilts his head and shrugs, “you caught me — we were a bit more than just neighbors… more like childhood friends.”

Sakura narrows his eyes but doesn’t push. Suo looks down at his hands, laced carefully on the wooden table before he speaks again.

“We… spent a lot of time together and… her mother owned a teashop like this one.”

“Oh! A family business!” Nirei says.

Suo opens his mouth to correct him but your voice cuts him off.

“You still have them!”

A finger slips along the long tassels of his earring and Suo nearly jerks away, casting his eyes up to find you, a familiar teapot in your now steady hands, your eyes somehow bright and dark at the same time as you look down at him.

“Oh… yes, I —” again, he feels his throat catch, “of course I did. You were the one who made them for me.”

You let out a light laugh, setting a few teacups down at their table and prepping their tea.

“You didn’t have to — I’m surprised they held up after all these years. You know I bought the red beads at the craft store right?”

“Yeah, you… you used your New Years money. I remember…”

“And you helped me pick out the tassels from the lady who sells lucky knots at the market!” you say all this as if it weren’t one of his most precious memories, as if he hadn’t gone to great lengths to make sure the earrings you gave him (one of the only things you’d ever given them, other than perhaps a broken heart) never came to any harm.

Across from him, he can see Nirei putting the pieces together. Next to him, Sakura seems stunned still by the same revelation.

“If I’d know you’d like them so much, I would’ve made you a few more pairs. At least that way, you can try to match them with your clothes,” you grin, leaning down to seep their tea. Suo watches as the hot water washes over the dried leaves, rehydrating them till they each unfurl into their own shape. A deep, floral fragrance fills the air and he feels his stomach both twist and settle in the same motion.

“Jasmine green,” he says.

“Mhm. Your favorite. It’s a little basic but I love it too.” You shoot him a surreptitious wink. Then, you pause, “Ah — but it might not be your favorite anymore, I guess —”

“It still is,” Suo says before you can second guess yourself.

The smile that re-alights your face is nearly blinding in it’s brilliance.

“Anyway, I’ll leave the water here for you guys, yeah?” you set the teapot down next to Suo’s elbow, flash them all one more smile before twirling around and going to serve the next table.

It isn’t until much after dark that everyone leaves and Suo, having made up some vague excuse to linger, finally has you to himself. You hum as you flit from table to table, wiping them down and pushing in the chairs. Suo watches you for a solid minute before moving to help.

“Thanks,” you say, as he helps you push in the last chair and you wipe a forearm across your forehead with a long breath, “phew! Ma really made it look easy back in the day, but this is hard work! And we’re not even officially opened yet!”

“We’ll come by to help whenever we can,” Suo says, the response automatic.

You nod, folding the tablecloth neatly into a square and setting it on the counter.

The silence thickens around you, swirling and charged. Suo grasps for something to say, anything to say. He wishes you’d do something — turn on a light, hum another song, say something strange and outlandish, punch him, perhaps.

You do none of those things. Instead, you wipe your hands on your apron and turn to look at him, your eyes huge in the darkness.

“I’ve missed you.”

It nearly knocks him from his feet. The quiet force of your words, the raw-edged honesty behind them. The way your voice doesn’t waver. The way you say them not like an accusation but an admittance. He thinks he really would’ve preferred if you punched him instead.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless, heat cresting up his chest, and suddenly, he’s thankful for the darkness within the not-yet-opened teashop.

“I’ve missed you too.”

He feels hollowed out by the confession, as if just speaking the words had carved him clean, so clean that the words echo through him, reverberating through his bones till he feels it down to his marrow. He hadn’t known that missing a person could feel like this, or that the word could mean so much until he’d said it out loud.

Missing. The lack thereof. A nothing where there used to be something.

It is a wrongness in the matrix, a hole, an abnormality.

It’s as if he’d been sleeping on the mattress from the Princess and the Pea ever since the day you’d left, a subtle incorrectness that permeated every single moment of every day, so obvious in it’s presence that it had folded back into itself and become something.

That the lack of you was a presence in and of itself, a living ghost that had loomed over him, slinked behind his shadow, hovered over his shoulder until —

He reaches out to touch you, fingers skimming against the skin of your cheek.

You lean into his touch, the motion slight but he catches it almost immediately, and the force of it is the catalyst that propels him forward. He tugs you into his chest and holds you there, burying his face in your hair.

“I — I’ve missed you…” he says again, and you nod, fingers crumpling in his school uniform as you press your forehead into his chest.

“Y-you’re so much taller than before — it’s not fair,” you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. He laughs, ruffling your hair for a second before his fingers so soft and he’s running them through from root to end.

“If I had a sister, I’d tell her to keep her hair long, so I could braid it,” he’d once told you when the two of you were barely in elementary school. You’d tugged at the ends of your chopped short hair and frowned.

“Ugh — I could never grow my hair out long. It’ll just get in the way!”

“It’s longer,” he says now, tugging at the ends even as he takes half a step away, releasing you from his embrace. You glance down at the uneven bits, crinkling your nose in distaste.

“I — I tried to grow it out but… I kept getting annoyed.”

“Yeah, I thought so but… I’ve always liked your hair short.”

“You have?”

“Yeah —”

I’ve always loved everything about you.

He swallows, “Short hair… just fits you.”

You stare up at him for a second longer before nodding, your eyes flickering away.

“Yeah. Guess it does, huh.”

Something clunks in Suo’s chest.

You turn away and he has to physically beat down the panic rising in his chest.

“W-where do you live now? I’ll walk you back. It’s not safe to walk around alone in the dark,” the words tumble from him like a bag of spilled marbles, scattering across the hardwood floors.

You turn back to regard him with a curious look.

“I — I live above the teahouse. So…” you shoot him a lopsided grin, a finger pointed up towards the ceiling of the teahouse.

“Oh. Right.” Suo blinks, watching you watching him before he notices the flight of stairs behind the open door in the back of the room.

“You wanna walk me to the stairs?” you ask, grin slanting sideways till its positively devilish and Suo feels a shiver kiss it’s way up his spine.

“I mean, it’s dangerous to walk alone in the dark, right?” you tease, before turning and slinking towards the back room door. Suo hesitates for a second before he sighs, shaking his head and following behind you.

He pauses at the foot of the stairs just as you pause on the step right above him. You twist around to face him, and the sudden closeness catches his breath in his lungs. Like this, he can feel the heat of your skin, can smell the shampoo in your hair — the same one you’d used when the pair of you were still kids, apple blossom and aloe.

You cock your head, your faces now on a level, your eyes searching his.

It’s so dark, but even in this lack of light, he can make out every single feature of your face.

“I think I can make it up the stairs by myself,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper, conspiratorial and low.

Suo lets out a small laugh, nodding, “Good. It wouldn’t be right for a gentleman to leave a lady feeling unsafe at this time of night.”

Your head slowly cocks the other way; he’d almost forgotten that habit of yours, like a sparrow listening for the rustle of leaves or the first breath of autumn wind.

“Since when’ve you been a gentleman?” you ask, still in that soft, whisper-voice, the kind of voice that compels the listener to lean closer, to tip forward until they’re falling into something they don’t even have the name for —

“And… more importantly, since when have I ever been a lady?”

He kisses you then. Or perhaps, you kiss him first. It doesn’t matter — or perhaps it does, or it will. But not now, not in the soft, nebulous darkness that surrounds you, not when your fingers are curling into his hair and his palms are settling at your waist.

And there are no fireworks, but there is light — electricity coursing through his body and yours, neurons firing and firing and firing. A cataclysm of yes and more and finally.

The first time you break apart, Suo is breathless; the second time, he feels punch drunk; by the third, he’s determined that this must be what it’s like to be thoroughly inebriated. His head is spinning, his face is hot, he has to remind himself of where his hands might be — oh, there — one in your hair and the other pressing you to him so hard he’s certain it’ll leave a mark.

The thought pleases him more than it should. Or perhaps it pleases him just as much as it should and always will.

“H-Hayato…"

“Mm — stay — please…” his voice is nearly broken as he drops his had into your shoulder; he takes a shaky breath, “don’t go.”

You let yourself be held, the pair of you propped awkwardly on the first few steps of the stairs, your fingers threading through his hair.

“I’m not going anywhere… this is my house now.”

Suo nods, vaguely aware that there are questions he wants to ask you — how’s your mother? Where’s your father? How are you here, alone, opening this teashop by yourself? Living here, by yourself?

But he will get to those later, tomorrow maybe. Right now, he forces his head up and regards you with hazy, blown-out eyes and kiss-slick lips.

“If I sleep on the floor, can I —”

You laugh, running a thumb along his cheek.

“We’ve shared a bed before and nothing’s happened. You don’t have to sleep on the floor — bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Suo presses his lips for a second before shaking his head.

“It’s not that. I just… don’t think I could trust myself.”

There’s a hoarse, ragged edge to his voice that has you chewing on the inside of your cheek. He glances up the stairs and offers you a weak smile. You consider him for a second more before nodding.

“Yeah, c’mon. I’ll show you where the futons are.”

Upstairs, your bedroom is silver and alien with moonlight. It seems too bright, too sharp. But you step into it and suddenly, everything is alright again. You both wash up in silence, and you dig up an ancient band t-shirt from somewhere in your closet. He wonders how long you’d been here already — how many days and night he’d spent mere minutes from you.

He lays down in the futon after you slip beneath your sheets. He watches the shape of you as you shift this way and that.

Finally, you say, “Night, Hayato.”

“Sweet dreams,” he says.

And he falls asleep counting the sound of your breaths against the rhythm of his own, thundering heartbeats.

“Y-you what?!”

Sakura’s face is tomato red and Nirei looks just about ready to go into anaphylactic shock. Across the classroom, Kiryuu, who’s obviously been listening in, catches Suo’s eye and gives him a cheeky thumbs up.

Suo smiles, cheery and unabashed.

“I slept over.”

“B-b-but — you — I — she just —” Nirei seems to be fighting against some invisible force inside himself even as Sakura continues to gape.

Suo chuckles, nodding.

“Yeah, she moved here last week — it’s a total coincidence that we met up again. She had no idea that I was even here.”

He thinks back to the quiet moments of the morning, of waking up to find you sitting up in bed, staring out the window, your hair mussed and a little frizzy. He remembers the way the morning light had dappled the soft of your skin, how you’d smiled and asked him how he slept.

“Well. Better than I’ve slept in…” he clears his throat, suddenly self conscious of the gravel there. And here, in the unforgiving light of day, the night before seems miraculous and distant. Had he really held you in the dark like that? Kissed you till you’d said his name like something of a prayer?

Had he really held your hand all the way up the stairs?

You catch his eyes and smile, and like this, looking up at you as the rising sun halos itself around your shape, Suo wonders if he still might be dreaming. Because surely, surely — heaven couldn’t have been so close as this.

“So, what do you want for breakfast?” you ask, swinging your legs out of bed, your pale feet pattering against the fresh tatami floors. Suo is momentarily stunned by the sight of your bare legs, the large shirt you wore to bed now somehow terribly short and insufficient as it brushes by the middle of your thighs.

He swallows and forces himself to look away, to shake his head and focus on the words you’d said.

“Whatever you want to make,” he says, by way of an answer.

You hum as you cook, putting a bowl of rice in the microwave and putting on a pot of water to boil. The kitchen here is smaller than the one up front, in the main body of the teahouse, but it feels more homely, every surface effused with a sort of lived-in quality — clean, but rounded at the edges as if worn down by the love of days and weeks and months.

“How long…” he tries his voice again, only to find it wanting. He lets his words trail off and hopes that you understand.

“Hm? How long have I been here? Just a week. It was weird — my mom had bought this place a while back, and started the renovations, but I’d never had time to visit.”

“And where…” again, his voice trails off, his palms pressing flat to the thin counter, his eyes tracking the shape of you as you flitter through the small kitchen like a bird or maybe just a trick of the light.

“She’s not here,” you say, your movements slowing as you take the boiling water from the stovetop and pour it over some rough tealeaves, letting them seep for a few minutes before straining them out and tossing them into the trash.

“She’s… in Tokyo, finalizing the divorce with Pa.”

“Oh.”

His mind makes several inferences at once, even as he watches you soak the rice in the steaming hot tea and split the ochazuke into two bowls.

“I thought they’d… already done that,” he admit, nodding his thanks as you hand him a bowl and offer him a container of store-bought furikake. He takes it and shakes some over his bowl before handing it back.

“Yeah. Most people did.” You don’t offer up anything more and the both of you eat in silence. He polishes off the entire bowl and feels the heat settle in his stomach like a gap being filled.

“So… will she come after… everything is settled?” he choses his words carefully, peering up at you over the empty dishes. You slurp noisily at your own breakfast before licking your lips.

“Yeah, but who knows how long that’ll take? Might be weeks, might be — years, or something…” you drag the back of a hand across your lips and reaches over to pluck the empty bowl from his hands, dropping everything into the sink to soak.

“C’mon, don’t you have school or something to get ready for?”

“So… she’s here to stay?” Nirei asks, his eyes a bit overbright as Suo relays a version of the story, skirting tactfully around the more tender parts.

“Yeah, as far as I know. I promised we’d come by after school today to help her set up some more — you don’t mind, do you?”

“Nope! Not at all!” Nirei beams, but Sakura’s eyes are narrowed. Suo turns his gaze on Sakura and tilts his head with a questioning smile.

Sakura’s cheeks redden, “It’s just — ah, whatever — never mind!”

And no amount of prodding or teasing could tantalize him into saying more.

Time passes by strangely after that — at times slugging by slow as molasses, at others jumping forward in great leaps and bounds. Suo spends nearly every waking moment when he’s not at school or on patrols with you, sometimes simply sitting in the corner of the teahouse, flipping through a book, watching as you served your growing roster of regular customers, at times helping you catalogue new shipments of tea and organizing them by type, brew time, and temperature.

Sometimes, when the light catches you in just the right way, Suo finds himself arrested by the sight, and it’s times like these when he’d tug you forward, a finger under your chin, his lips gentle on yours till he can taste the tang of your smile.

“I heard you’re quite the lady’s man,” you say, casually one day, brewing a test batch of a new varietal of white tea.

“Oh? And where might you have heard such a thing?” Suo grins, pillowing his chin on the heel of his hand, watching you as he always does.

“Just the baker’s granddaughter — she goes the prep school I do, you know the one in the next neighborhood over?”

“Ah… that.”

Your grin goes lopsided as you carefully blow on the top of your teacup and take a dainty sip.

“You got your hair cut,” he says, smiling as he rakes his eye over the cut of your bob, tickling just beneath your earlobe. You go slightly cross-eyed as you tug a strand down over your forehead before blowing it away again.

“Yeah. Figured it was about time I got a proper haircut.”

“I liked it the way it was before.”

“You did?”

“Sure I did. I’ve always loved everything about you.”

Between you, a single column of steam rises in a slow, lazy spiral from the surface of your half-drunk cup. And like this, Suo thinks you’re still the most beautiful creature he’s ever, ever seen.

Your blush is quick and brilliant. Your eyes cut away; you push your hair behind your ears.

“Don’t changed the subject — so what’s this she said about you not really being one for dating, hm?”

Suo shrugs, “I’m not.”

You quirk an eyebrow.

“Then…” you blink at him, cheeks flushing darker and darker, “what do you call this?”

Suo fixes you with a steady look, and now, his voice doesn’t waver when he speaks to you, because he knows that he’d never let the certainty of you slip away from him again. This time, he knows the words to say — knows without the shadow of a doubt his truth, and yours, too.

“I don’t know what I’d call it but… I know that I’ve never really believed in dating.”

You lick your lips, setting the cup down with a soft clack.

“Then what do you believe in?”

Suo doesn’t miss a beat.

“I suppose… I’ve always just believed in soulmates.”

Your mouth falls open ever so slightly. Suo smiles as he reaches forward to tug the strand of hair free from behind your ear just to run his thumb over the smooth, silken ends.

“And, I’ve always, always believed in love at first sight.”

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s0urw00lf · 2 months

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Hello ! Anonymous who asked for the Neteyam x reader.

They dont have to necessarily be ennemies, but maybe more like two people whom has so much in common, eldest of two great clan leaders, with all the pressures that comes with it and to watch over their siblings, take the blame, but for the love of Ewya despite this they can’t see eye to eye.

I hope it helps you ! You can diverge a bit from the scenario if you want

One and the same

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Summary: you and Neteyam are basically the same person, but for the lives of you can’t get along

Warning: none I don’t think

An: thank you SO much for clarifying that made writing this so much easier. I wasn’t sure if you were going to see it but I’m happy you did. Also I’m so sorry I didn’t see this in my inbox until last night and I wrote this on a time crunch so it is a teeny bit rushed. But I hope you enjoy!!

You watched the sully kids from afar as your siblings taught them how to control their breath. You noticed the eldest was having the most trouble, and you felt for him truly. You saw yourself in him, as if you were looking at your reflection in the water. You approached them, “may i help with anything?” You asked Tsereya. She nodded, gesturing to the oldest sully sibling “he needs a little more help” you frowned nodding, noting the frown on his face matching yours. Neteyam is very adept, so you couldn’t imagine how infuriating it was for him to not be able to grasp a task. “Follow me please” Neteyam got up following you as you led him to a more secluded place on the rocks, a place you come often to find peace. You sat crossing your legs and he followed.

the one thing you hated about him was that he was very stubborn, as were you. “Neteyam please i am trying to help you” you pleaded irritated. he sighed “i goi it i just need time” he shook his head. Rolling your eyes, “you wont be able to control your breaths if your heart is fast”. “It will slow just give me a second” he said. You turned your head toward Tsereya and the rest of the sully’s. Tsereya was already watching you she had a hand covering her mouth laughing, Lo’ak stood beside her with a small smile. ‘He’s being stubborn’ you signed to her.

She tilted her head with a smile ‘you are just as, sister’ she signed back. You huffed angrily, as much as you hated it she was right. ‘Eywa please grant me the patience’ you thought. “If you will not let me help you i will go help someone who will” you said standing up, before you could take a step he grabbed your arm, “no i- i just- I’m calm now” he stuttered. You nodded sitting back down in your previous position. You placed your hand on his chest and felt the light ‘thump’‘thump’‘thump’, his heart rate was significantly lower, not as low as it should be but you could work with it. “Better?” He asked sounding sarcastic but you couldn’t tell if it was that or if he’s just nervous. The session carried on extremely slow for the both of you, for some reason being in each other’s presence just ticked you both off.

You’d easily avoided Neteyam around the village even though at some points you were sure he was everywhere just trying to get on your nerves. But somehow you had ended up with him and his brother, your siblings and, roxto way past the reef. So when you got back you’d all been scolded by your parents, and you watched with anger in your eyes at Neteyam taking the fall for his brother. “What the hell did we talk about huh? What happened to behaving?” You overheard Jake scolding his sons “it is my fault sir” Neteyam said, causing your blood to boil. You hated that he did that, taking the fall for his sibling, you hated it. You hated it even more because it’s exactly what you did, you stood taking your parents scolding head on, ears pinned back tail pin straight. You must of all hated how he watched from afar at you taking the scolding, he scoffed shaking his head, braids following with the sway of his head and walked away.

Later that day you found yourself walking down the beach, you hated how much you could see yourself in him. Because if you were an outsider looking in you’d think how stupid it is being the eldest of the great clan leader. How you’d tell yourself to just stop and do what you wanted to, but you couldn’t and neither could he.

The clans annual celebration rolled around very soon, and excitement was in the air. You wore a one piece (almost like a dress) made out of crystals, shells and pearls, the back was out, to show your tattoo’s. You sat with your parents watching your people dance around with gleeful smiles on their faces.

You sat imbetween your parents, ounung and Tsireya with whoever that came to the celebration with. Your mom nudged your arm “you should go dance” she said in a soft voice, your mother wasn’t usually so relaxed but during any celebration she knew that it was a time for fun. You almost let out a laugh at the suggestion “with who mother? No one will want to dance with the Olo’eyktan’s scary eldest daughter” you stated rolling your eyes. Your father let out a booming laugh, catching the attention of you and people of the clan. “I wouldn’t speak so soon daughter” he said with a smile looking ahead, you follow his line of sight only to see the oldest of Jake and Neytiri walking towards you, only then did you notice how quiet the clan got. They knew no one had the guts to approach you, let alone the guy you had yet to get along with long enough for a decent conversation. He greeted your parents with an ‘I see you’ and vice versa, then hit turned to you “y/n” he said. “Neteyam?”

“I would like to ask for your hand in a dance” he said holding out his hand. You tilted your head amused, he was the very first guy to ever try and ask for a dance, let alone in front of your parents. “I accept” you said, much to the surprise of everyone. Except for your parents and Tsireya, you heard her ‘finally’ from across the beach. You placed your hand in his and he led you toward the crowd of dancing na’vi. He then let out a breath, “i am not sure how to dance like your people” he admitted. You laughed “it’s okay forest boy, just follow my lead” you said.

BONUS: your parents pov: “they were so obvious” laughed Tonowari , Ronal smiled “very much so, but they are good for each other. They will be good leaders.” Ronal said.

Jake and neytiri POV: “cant believe he finally did it” Jake said astonished, “he did it the right way” neytiri said proudly.

The siblings: “finally” kiri groaned watching her brother lead you toward the crowd. “They were so obvious Tsireya giggled. “You owe me sully” ao’nung said grinning as he held his hand out, “you couldn’t have waited another week?” lo’ak groaned handing Ao’nung the knife he’d betted.

#s0urw00lf #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #atwow #atwow x y/n #atwow neteyam #atwow fanfiction #atwow x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 11 months

Text

Imagine Sanji tending to your kitchen injury on board the ship...

Clang! “Shit!”

Rushed footsteps echoed through the hallway until a familiar blonde head appeared. “I heard a shout. What’s… going on?”

Sanji saw you standing by the stove clutching your hand. The ship swayed with the current of the East Blue and a black pot rolled along the wooden floor until it met his shoes.

A small smile crept onto Sanji’s face. “Were you trying to cook?”

You stepped forward with a crestfallen expression. “I was trying to prove a point to Usopp.”

Sanji bent down and collected the cooking device. “Which was?”

“That we were capable of boiling water.” You replied and gestured to the pot in his hands. “Clearly not - ah!” In your actions, you forgot that you had injured yourself in the process, skin agitated and burning from being touched by the scalding water.

Sanji’s amused expression dropped. He set the pot down before stepping to your side. “Here, let me take a look at that.”

Sanji guided you to the table and pulled out a chair. You took a seat while he quickly walked across the room and gathered some supplies to help treat the burn. It wasn’t long before he returned with a bottle, a cloth and some bandages and took a seat opposite, bringing his chair closer. He gingerly took your hand.

“I keep these close by in case I have a bad day.” He explained while inspecting the tender skin. “It’s not too bad luckily. A few dabs of this tonic should help aid the healing but it’ll sting.”

You had never particularly enjoyed healing tonics, they hurt a little too much. Sanji sensed your apprehension and leaned forward. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be gentle and if you feel the urge to scream,” he took your second hand and rested it against his knee. “Let the pain move through your hand and into your fingertips.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve endured much worse.” He winked. “On three, okay?”

You took in a deep breath as he counted and closed your eyes when the tonic set your hand on fire.

There was a groan and you realised that it hadn't come from you. Opening your eyes, you saw Sanji wince a little while he began fastening the white cloth around your hand.

He grit his teeth and laughed lightly. “You have one hell of a grip.”

You frowned at first and then realised that your second hand was digging into his pants. You gasped and let go but he dismissed the incoming apology with a small head shake.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” There was a light tug on your injured hand. “And we’re done.”

Sanji raised the bandaged hand and pressed a small kiss to the tips of your fingers. “Just a bit of luck for fast healing.”

You were taught to be weary of smooth-talking gentlemen on the sea but right now, all you wanted to do was melt in his arms. Neither of you had made any effort to let go of their other until Buggy’s head finally made itself known on a tall chair.

Had he been there the whole time?

“Aww, you two are so adorable, I want to puke.” Buggy doted with a highly sweetened voice for a second and then the tone shifted and he glared at the pair. “No, seriously I want to puke because this is the most seasick, lovesick, piece of sh-!”

Sanji stretched out his leg and kicked the underside of the high chair with enough force to toss Buggy’s head into the air and land into a pot with a hard bang and a pained groan from the clown.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his misery a little which drew Sanji’s attention back to you.

“Starting tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to cook a few basic meals so you don’t have to tell Usopp about the ordeal with the boiling water just yet.” He offered despite knowing that their sharpshooter would eventually find out one way or another.

You smiled back at the chef as you stood up. “I’d like that. I hope the lessons include quick healing kisses too.”

Sanji chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “And I thought I was the only smooth-talker here.”

~ More imagines here ~

#gif is not mine #theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #one piece live action imagine #one piece live action masterlist #one piece masterlist #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji imagine #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji imagine

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

Text

Captain Hook x Reader || Excerpt

Plot: Hook wakes up before dawn and he tries not to wake you up too, he does, but you're just such a pretty picture in his 🛏🛏🛏 xx

Warnings: I think he has a bit of somnophilia kinkiness in him- but don't worry, he would wake you up before doing anything. He's a gentleman. He does stare at you though and give you some affections like cuddling, cheek stroking, and a kiss while you sleep though. It is also evident that some hanky panky occurred earlier. Unedited.

Tagging: @stareena Hey! I'm not sure if you wanted this version of Captain Hook or the animated one- but just let me know! ^^

The waters were in good spirits this morning, not flat and still like a corpse but not raging like a furious school teacher either. The ship rocked gently with its waives, so if he weren't a seaman then Captain Hook would feel sick- luckily, he was an experienced seaman and he enjoyed the soft rolling. He stood and walked on it easy, following the movements with an ease you only get out of years of experience.

Years of experience that also lead him to getting up at unholy hours of the morning every bloody day, even when he didn't need to. Even when he didn't want to. When he would do anything to just be asleep curled around his darling; still slumbering in his bed, their body naked except for the throws and furs that adorn his four-poster-cot. But no, though, his body clock had long since been taught that 4 hours past midnight was his morning. And he had to listen. It was in his blood.

So, yes, it was unfortunate that he was awake and dressed, not still naked himself feeling his sweet beauty's soft skin on his this morning. But the view he had, standing at the end of the bed, was almost as magnificent. Almost.

You really were the most marvelous treasure he ever found,.. he thought, smirking down at you nuzzling a cushion. Incredibly beautiful, over worldly sexy,.. unfairly adorable. Here you were, just sleeping peacefully in his chambers, after a long exhausting night between the cot and his hips (Admittedly, he was unrelenting last night- and deserve this rest now), and here we was... ridiculously aroused.

God- how do you do it?

Rolling his eyes upwards, Hook shakes his head and tries to just leave the room- go out onto deck and boil himself a tea and just enjoy the quiet morning and the magnificent sea- but the thought of you stops him at the door. Slowly he leans back from the doorway and turns back, gazing at you again.

"... oh, pull yourself together James. You had them a matter of hours ago." He mutters, chastising himself. Again, he tries to leave; reaching for the doorhandle and wrapping his good hand around it.

Then he's slowly letting it go again, and sighing. He has never had enough, not of you. That's clear. And well... the men are all asleep. If there were ever a time for him to devote himself to you, it was now.

He takes off his feathered hat and unbuttons his red coat on the way to the bed, before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead so soft you could mistake it for a brush of butterflies wings if you were awake. "My dear, you are just irresistible." Hook tells you quietly, as if explaining himself as the coat comes off his shoulders and he lays it at the end of the bed. Then he takes off his heeled boots, hanging over your dozing body. "Completely unfair, I must say... "

With his shirt and his pants still on, he slips back into bed; leaning against the headboard with the intention to stroke your hair and watch you rest for a while longer. When you instinctually, in your sleep, curl into him so your head rests on his chest and your hand slips over his opposite shoulder a slow smirk spreads across his face. Oh dear... "I suppose I'm not the only one who cant get enough, hmm?... "

While you continue to sleep, now nuzzling his collarbone instead of the cushion, Hook uses the tip of his namesake weapon to remove some hair from your face that was tickling your nose and becomes entranced with your sleeping face as he strokes your cheek with his knuckles.

Your delicate eyelids fluttering every now and then, your nose sometimes scrunching up, your pretty lips looking unfairly unkissed... He is besotted. Absolutely infatuated. He wants you forevor.

And he wants to kiss you. Your lips just look so perfect; soft and parted ever-so-slightly. He had kissed them for hours the previous evening, felt your tongue intimately with his, but he suddenly feels like he hasn't felt your lips for centuries. He misses your kiss desperately.

"Hmmm... " Could he manage it?... without waking you?... Spreading his own lips into a thoughtful grimace, Hook watches you needfully for a few torturous, thought provoking moments.

... perhaps... if he is particularly carefully with you,..

Ah. He cant help himself. He is a pirate, after all~ Stealing a few kisses now and then is the least he can do.

So, smirking shortly, Captain Hook leans down over your face. His hook trails soothingly down the side of your face, tracing your jaw until it reaches your chin; there it slips underneath and tilts your head gently up towards him. He can feel your slow, hot sleeping breaths on his face and he doesn't even care about your morning breath- you're far too perfect for him to ever mind something as silly as your simple human bodily functions.

Finally he feels your perfect, sweet, unmoving lips under his own. Its an odd sensation, kissing someone so unresponsive, but since its you he enjoys it anyway. He even tastes you, swiping a tongue across your bottom lip so so softly before pulling back again; satisfied. "... as suspected, my dear. You are utterly flawless, always."

When suddenly your hands glide up his chest to his neck and you guide him right back down to your, now quite responsive, waiting mouth- Hook is surprised but not displeased at all as he gives in to your sleepy request. Evidently his kiss woke you, but you aren't displeased he sees. Your lips move slowly, passionately against his and your tongue languidly glides over his; kissing him in a quiet, very exhausted, almost filthy way that has him hard again almost instantaneously.

When you release him again after a few lovely moments, your beautiful eyes crack open a little and you give him a worn-out smile. "... couldn't get enough?" Your voice cracks, from all the moaning and begging the evening before, but you're intent as ever. Oh, you are his north star, definitely. He loves you so much.

So, of course the answer is no- "Never, my dear."

"... be gentle with me."

"I promise."

#2003 Captain Hook x Reader Excerpt #2003!Captain Hook x Reader Excerpt #Captain Hook x Reader Excerpt #2003 Captain Hook x Reader #2003!Captain Hook x Reader #Captain Hook x Reader #2003 Captain Hook #2003!Captain Hook #Captain Hook #Excerpt

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prettyboy-basement · 8 months

Text

. . . searching . . . found ! dumb boytoy (asra x ftm!slime!reader)

"mr. asra! look what saw!"

"mr. asra, who's this?"

"mr. asra you're so smart!"

asra was going to lose it.

he was just going through the forest when muriel just had to dump you into his arms, not knowing what to do with you.

"i don't want to hurt him. you can take care of him."

and in his arms was a young man made out of... jelly? slime?

when he brought him home, he didn't know what he would expect. but as the days went on and went by, he realized you were just so curious and... cute.

"mr. asra are you okay?"

you were squishy... soft…

"mr. asra?"

"...huh?"

"i was asking if you were okay. the water's been boiling for a while now."

he looked down at the kettle and swore softly, taking it off the heat. you giggled quietly, and asra was sure his heart flew.

he poured the two cups and stirred them before setting them at the table.

"you told me you were curious about something?"

"yeah, why do you wear clothes?"

asra nearly dropped his cup and coughed to cover a swear.

"i'm sorry, what?"

"i was wondering why you wear clothing. i mean, it's super restrictive and i was curious how your body looked..."

this wasn't real. asra was still asleep and he was about to wake up rock hard and he'd need to rub one or two out before opening his shop.

...oh who was he kidding, his mind wasn't this creative. this was actually happening.

"um... well, people wear clothing for modesty reasons. we have been taught since we were kids that our body needs to be covered. along with this, the sun can damage us, and such."

"well then what about when we're just at home and the shop is closed up? why do you still wear clothes?"

asra stared at you and crossed one leg over the other. "w-well, it’s important to practice modesty whenever you can so you don't for- hey!"

he hadn't noticed you slide down to his legs until you forcefully uncrossed them. there, you could see the tent.

"what's this, mr. asra?"

his face heated up and he looked away. well you were curious. "...that is my dick."

"why's it pointing up like this?"

"because... i am currently aroused."

"...what does that mean?"

"it means that my sexual desire is higher than normal-nh!"

you slid your hand over his tent, and asra quickly grabbed your wrist. he panted softly and thought offhandedly how it would feel around his cock.

"goodness, dear, you cannot just do that..."

"oh! sorry, mr. asra!"

"it's alright... quite alright..." you were so curious about it and surely you wanted to see it, right? "...would you like to see what it looks like?"

"you'll let me see?"

"only if you wish to."

you nodded your head quickly and asra swore under his breath. he lifted his hips and pulled his pants and boxers down to his knee, let his cock bob out. you eyes widened at the sight.

"woah..."

he wrapped a hand around your head. "you can touch it if you like.”

you reached up and touched his cock softly, focusing on the tip. his breath hitched, it felt like something he tested some time back, with a fake cunt.

"are you okay, mr. asra?"

"mhmm... it feels... so good..."

you slowly wrapped you hand around it and stroked him gently. his precome leaked onto and then into your hand and you pulled it away to watch it.

"wow... what's this?"

"ah... hah... it's precome... it's something that comes out while i'm relieving myself of my arousal before i come."

"what does that look like?"

he stared at you before pushing his hair back. he huffed out a laugh, and pulled you up into his lap. "you really want to see?"

"mhmm! mhm!"

"alright. hold on tight."

he lfited you up and pushed his cock into you. he wasn't sure which hole he pushed into, if he did even push into one, but be didn't even care.

you felt amazing.

"ohh... oh fuck, darling... you feel..."

"uhnn... w-woah... look at it!"

he looked down and he could see his cock inside of you. well now, he couldn't pass this up. he held onto your hips and thrust upwards, pounding away at your hole, making you gasp and hiccup, clearly surprised at the sudden action.

you whined and held onto his arms, throwing your head back as you moaned out into the shop.

"god, how'd i get- ah- so da-amn lucky- fuck!"

he felt you squirt around him and he looked down, seeing the odd colored liquid drip down onto the chairr.

"holy fuck- ah!"

he held you close and came inside of you. you both sat there for a few moments afterwards, and he looked down once more, seeing his cum pooled inside of you.

"oh... oh wow... what was that, mr. asra?"

"that... was sex. people who love each other very much have sex."

you sat up and watched his face. "do you love me?"

he chuckled and nodded. "very much so, my dear."

you wrapped your arms around him and swished your hips, making him choke.

"i love you too mr. asra! let's live together forever!"

he held your hips. "yes. let's."

#asra alnazar #asra the arcana #asra x reader #x reader #xreader #ftm reader #the arcana #the arcana x reader #absolute degenerate writings #requested degeneracy

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moo-blogging · 7 months

Text

Nothing in my head but Dad Levi taking your daughter out to the grocery shop alone, and she needs the bathroom.

Levi knows his way with his little princess. Hair? Done. With 2 matching butterfly hairclips on either side of her head. Bottle? Filled with water he boiled this morning. No overnight water for his baby. Wet wipes and napkins? Packed in his favourite "i Love DadDy" canvas bag painted by your little girl.

And today, Levi is taking your little girl out on an adventure to the grocery shop. It's your anniversary and Levi has planned a nice dinner for the three of you. You wanted to take a day off but Levi and his mini-me insisted you give them some "alone time" to prep for the dinner.

Levi had his arms crossed and your daughter, who has the exact same eye and hair colour as Levi, crossed her arms too and nodded her head. "Mommy should go to work. I can make dinner with Daddy!" "But Mommy can help too.." you offered. "No! It's a surprise for Mommy!" Your little daughter pouted her lips, making her chubby cheeks chubbier than usual. In the end, you agreed to go to work while Levi and your daughter prepare your surprise dinner.

With the grocery list prepared by Levi and his little helper, the father-daughter duo waltz through the aisles, grabbing all the things on (and off) the list. Levi is still learning to say no to the big, sparkling greyish blue eyes when she says "pleaseeeeeeeeeeee daddyyyy pleaseeeeeeee".

After they grabbed everything and checked out, Levi goes through the items one last time before they head home. "Daddy?" Your daughter pulls his shirt.

"Yes, my strawberry?" Levi pats her head.

"I.. I wanna pee..." you daughter crosses her legs. She's still learning how to tell people she needs the bathroom before it's too late. Panic hits Levi. He forgot to ask her to use the bathroom before they got out. Your daughter, who is 4 now, is still too young to use the public restroom alone. But she has the awareness of having privacy or covering herself from boys and men at times like this (Levi taught her well).

"Sweetie," Levi kneels to her level, "can you hold until we get home?"

Tears start to accumulate in her eyes, your daughter shakes her head, his pigtails flying left to right, "I have to go now, Daddy."

Signing, Levi leads your daughter towards the restroom. Levi tries his best to convince your daughter to use the men's restroom, but she refuses. Levi looks into the men's bathroom, finding only 2 people in the bathroom doing their business facing the wall.

Levi tries telling her it's alright and the men wouldn't bother looking at her, but she insists that she doesn't want to see the men too.

"Tell you what," Levi kneels down again, "Daddy will carry you, and you hide your face here." Levi pats his chest, "and close your eyes so you don't see anything else until I bring you into the stall."

"Are you sure about this? Will we get into trouble?" Your daughter starts to pout.

Levi wraps his arms around her little frame, "no, sweetie, Daddy promise we'll be just fine. Just close your eyes now."

And so, Levi carries his little princess into the bathroom, ignoring the men doing their business and goes into one of the stalls. He locks the door behind him and gently drops your daughter. "You can open your eyes now," Levi softly informs her.

Your little daughter blinks her eyes as she takes in the stall. She watches the toilet for a while and turns her head to Levi. "Daddy, you have to turn around."

Startled, Levi apologises and turns around. Levi listens patiently to his daughter climbing onto the toilet and releases herself. Then she hops off the toilet and flushes.

Levi asks, "may I turn over now?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Levi carries her again as she closes her eyes, and they exit the stall. Levi makes his way to the tap and your daughter reaches her hands out while Levi carries water from the tap to her little palms.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, my strawberry?"

"Are there boys here?"

"Yes, sweetie, this is a men's toilet." Levi chuckles.

"How many boys are here?"

Levi knows she is curious about the men's restroom. "3 boys, and they're all closing their eyes too. So don't peak!"

Your daughter giggles and Levi exits the restroom.

That night, your daughter couldn't shut up about how she has been in a men's toilet with 3 boys! And she is proud that she kept her eyes closed the entire time.

You share a glance with Levi and see him already grinning at you. You think tonight would be the night you make another mini Levi ;)

#dadvi #levi as a dad #daddy levi #levi thoughts #levi ackerman #levi fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou #levi x y/n #midnight thoughts #levi x you #aot x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi drabble

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mischiefandlies · 21 days

Text

A lesson in culinary disasters...

Loki x Reader

Masterlist

Notes: Thor is the embodiment of the phrase "thirty going on three". Also, I really had to work to find things that could go wrong with making spaghetti. Luckily, I work with children, so know how sevearly idiotic people can be.

Warnings: nilt

Enjoy!

“There's spaghetti on my ceiling.”

Both Loki and Thor looked away sheepishly.

“WHY IN FUCKS NAME IS THERE SPAGHETTI ON MY CEILING?”

“… well, m’Lady-”

“Darling, I didn’t-”

“I left you two alone for ONE DAY!”

They each share a glance.

“What?” you say dryly.

Thor sighs and turns away, while Loki comes over to you. “My love, me and Thor will deal with this shenanigan. I promised I’d make you dinner, and I'll make you dinner. Just go and relax and I’ll come and get you when the time is right. Perhaps watch another one of those comedic films with Lang, the two of you seem to enjoy those.”

“Thought you got jealous when I watched movies with him?” you said.

“Angel, Lang couldn’t find a single hostage in training yesterday. If he is unable to locate a human sized test dummy, I don’t hold out much hope of him finding a clitoris. Besides,” he continues “I'm sure his penis is just as small as the rest of him.”

You just roll your eyes as he ushers you out the door. “And don’t burn my pans! And so help me God if you break my stove, I’m going to shove that blender straight up your-”

The front door slammed shut behind you. “Loki, I don’t think she is happy with us,” Thor stated. “I see very little chance of you being able to seduce her if you continue to act so childishly.”

“Remind me again who threw pasta at the ceiling?” Loki said through gritted teeth.

“Well, me, but Jane said it is important to use the pan to flip what you are cooking.”

“What Jane failed to mention, you ignorant buffoon, is that is for cooking pancakes.”

“Loki, pancakes are eggs and flour. Pasta, according to this detailed list on the packaging, is eggs and flour. I see no reason why the rules would change.”

Loki put his head in his hands. “Thor, how about I handle the cooking from now on?”

“And what are we making?”

“Spaghetti.”

“And balls of meat?”

“No Thor, just spaghetti.” Loki says, “Let’s not walk before we can run.”

Thor gasped. “But where are the balls of meat? Jane always makes balls of meat to go with spaghetti.”

“Thor, we have no meat.”

The blond just smirked. “I can assure you brother, I have plenty of meat. It is not my fault you are of such scrawny, runt-like nature. Why, do you not remember in our youth when we would play, and you would always…”

Loki left him to his prattling, and used his magic to clean the kitchen, remove the strands of spaghetti from the ceiling, and refill the kettle. He had wanted to make you something homemade, and so had asked his brother to assist, thinking Jane would have taught him something. Unfortunately, Thor was even less equipped to be sue-chef than him. Since you had left them to their own devices, they had made your kettle explode, set off the fire alarm, and Thor had cut his hand. They had since given up on making a tomato sauce and had lowered their standards enough to consider plain spaghetti a meal.

“Thor, snap the spaghetti in half and put it in the pot.”

Thor picked up a handful of spaghetti and instead of holding it in the middle, he took it by the ends, snapping it in front of him and spraying the kitchen in broken spaghetti pieces. His brother just looked on, muttering insults in their mother tongue. He took a pot down and filled it with the water out the kettle while Thor scuttled around on all fours picking up shards of pasta.

“Thor, for the love of all things holy, just put the spaghetti in the pan.”

Thor turns to the pot on the stove, and sticks his fist full of spaghetti into the boiling water, completely submerging his hand.

“AAAAH LOKI MAKE IT STOP”

“Take your hand out the pan Thor.”

Thor flings his arm up, spilling the boiling water all down himself.

“LOKI IT BURNS!!!!”

“Of course it does, its boiling water.”

“FIX IT.”

“No.”

“LOKI I AM KING OF ASGARD. YOU ARE UNDER OBLIGATION TO HELP ME. YOU WILL FIX THIS THIS INSTANT.”

“Thor, as the prince of Asgard, I am not obligated to do shit. Perhaps do as the Midgardians do when they are burnt. Run it under cold water.”

Loki turned away to magic up the complete shambles his brother had managed to achieve (again), and –for the fifth time today- boiled the kettle to make pasta. Thor had clearly misinterpreted his instruction, because he was running the pan under the tap.

“Loki, I fail to see how this is helping, I am still in a great deal of pain-”

The dark-haired god swiped the pan back. “Your arm, you utter cretin. Run the cold tap and hold your ARM under the water.”

Having distracted his brother enough to successfully put spaghetti on to boil, he began to grate some cheese.

“LOKI, I WANTED TO DO THAT.”

“You’d get blood in the cheese.”

“I won’t. I promise. Pleeeeeeaseee?”

“Fine.”

Thor enthusiastically leaps over to grate the cheese, while Loki stirs, drains and dishes out the pasta. In this time, not only has Thor zested the cheese instead of grating it, he has also zested a whole block of cheese and the top layer of skin on his fingers. The cheese was completely sodden with blood.

"Thor, what did I just say?"

"Pretend it's tomato sauce brother? She will never know!"

When you finally return from Langs, you find Loki, Thor, Strange, and Stranges medical kit all sat on your sofa. Thor's entire arm is bandaged, and Wanda and Steve are chatting away in your kitchen, making something that smells delicious.

“Fucksake Loki.”

“I’m sorry darling.” he says, “I tried, I really tried, but it just never worked, and I-”

“I know, love,” you cut him off. “Just tell me if you need cooking lessons, yeah? I can’t say I’m fond of coming home to find my kitchen in a disaster. I’ve just had a long day. I shouldn't've snapped. I’m sorry.”

He wraps you up in his arms. “Me too love.”

“Lo?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Have you ever heard of take away?”

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fic #mcu loki #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston #loki fanfic

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janaem · 1 year

Text

clay

just a reminder that the “___” is either your name or your crush’s name depending on the context

[4:45 pm]

your crush decided to take you to your first ever private ceramics class. it was a beautiful autumn day and you both wore cozy outfits for comfort purposes.

you two were taught how to make a small and plump vase--well you were being taught--your crush, on the other hand, had months of experience with pottery making. you couldn’t help but perceive in envy, while being on your third attempt of centering the fresh ball of clay that was crisp in your dampened hands.

you added water, pressed your elbows as tightly to you body as you could, biting your lip so hard it was sure to bleed in any moment, and hugged your finger as tightly around the mound as possible. unfortunately for you, the clay spun off and flew smack dab in the middle of your apron, your elbows splashed lightly with clay spots.

although you seemed calm on the outside, you couldn’t help but bite your tongue in frustration, your blood boiling throughout your body as you tore the mess from your apron.

you abruptly stood up about to put the wet heap of clay in the used clay bin, until you felt your crush’s hand tap you lightly.

you immediately averted your eyes to him, and to the two freshly sculpted clay vases that sat flawlessly on his platter. was he fucking serious right now?

his eyes gazed upon your subtly agitated expression. One thing you loved about ___ was how quickly he could read you like a book.

“___, sit down, i’ll get you a fresh one.” he said softly turning off their wheel whilst half struggling to get the mess from your hands. he stood up and walked over to the bin and tossed the old clay in and got some freshly cut clay from a counter by a large window.

still standing, you couldn’t help but gaze upon his sunkissed figure as worked away with cutting away at the fresh block of clay whilst weighing it on a scale, adding and removing chunks if the weight wasn’t ideal.

from afar he looked like an angel in the clouds of heaven crafting a new and mysterious creation.

it didn’t take them long before he was headed your way, the rays of sunlight trickling from each window that painted him with beautiful oranges and yellows.

his lightened eyes never left yours as he nodded his head, motioning you to sit.

you do so, and after a brief moment of silence, you hear another chair scoot behind yours, immediately feeling the warmth of another body against your back.

you opened your mouth to say something, until ___ traces his fingers slowly across your forearm, while his other hand places the clay mound onto your wheel. warmth caresses your inner being, your heart rate increasing gradually once you felt the side of his face graze your ear.

“just relax and let me guide you.” he reassures softly.

your body goes limp, as if you were being taken under the care of a guardian angel. something about ___’s voice automatically relaxed you, and you certainly couldn’t say no now.

“press the peddle,” ___ directed, gently pushing your body forwards with his, “remember, lean forward and press your elbows against your torso...”

the wheel started to spin s you hesitantly pressed down on the peddle. both of ___hands were over yours now, the warmth and stability of his arms making you practically melt under their touch.

you observed quietly as ___ helped mold your hands to center the clay properly, it was like teaching a kid how to ride a bike for the first time, only ___ was guiding you with his gently yet firm hands, directing your palms in whatever position needed. he frequently reaches over by the jar of water and add it to the clay to avoid stickiness.

moments later, ___ moves his hands up and gently slides his thumb across yours so that you both were pushing down onto the peak of the clay, which was caving in as it formed a whole. the tingling sensation in your stomach intensified as you felt his thumbs on your own, pushing and pushing further until you nearly reached the bottom of a now bowl shaped piece. how were ___’s fingers so light in such a difficult process?

“you’re doing good, ___, just a few more steps.” he said against your neck and you couldn’t help but sigh as they slide their fingertips up to your wrists reassuringly. his cool minty breath tickling the skin under your ear.

you nod absentmindedly, but you were focused on was the way ___’s body caged yours, how his arms caged your smaller ones, and the way his hands guided yours with occasional massages from his thumbs. the contact alone instantly made you go feral, but you were sure good at hiding it.

___’s voice snaps you out of your sweet and savory trance, “i’m gonna let go now, just work your hands up like a showed you.”

you had no idea what they were talking about but your hands moved on their own. even though your hands felt feel empty without theirs, you could still feel him.

well, he was still touching you, his hands glided across your arms and down to your waist, giving you a small squeeze, he was still leaned against you mumbling an occasional “mmhm” or a “just like that”.

your mind was in two places at once, the magic work of your hands on the clay and the feeling of ___’s hands slyly moving up and down your waist as a way to calm you. this truly was a beautiful feeling, and you took in every second of it as his hands also made their way to your center, feeling you heart beat against your ribs.

“your heart is beating so fast.” he commented with a small chuckle in the end.

“the clay is making me nervous, ___” you lied with small smile spreading across your face.

___ shook his head, “yeah, totally,” he the suddenly removes his hands from your stomach and onto your thighs, giving them a light tap, “stop the wheel.”

you pressed you heel against the elevated peddle, putting the wheel to a complete halt.

you and ___ starred at the glistening vase before your eyes.

___wraps his arms around you tightly, waves of laughter rippled in between the both of you as you took in this moment of achievement.

“you did it ___.” he whispered against your ear before planting a kiss on your temple.

#crush imagines #crush x reader #crush scenarios #fluff #wholesome #Crush Series #crush blurbs #timestamps #boy crush #a shit ton of grammar and spelling mistakes but it's aight #x reader #reader insert

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mysteryshoptls · 1 month

Text

SR Silver - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Silver Version ～Let's Make Beef Stew 1～

Silver: Beef stew… A dish needing to be boiled in a pot, of all things. I'm hoping I don't mess this up.

Ghost Chef: "Of all things"? Is there something worrying you?

Silver: Well…I actually have a bad habit where I find myself abruptly falling asleep.

Silver: Waiting for food to cook is no exception… I've fallen asleep while cooking before, leading to many failed dishes.

Ghost Chef: I had briefly glanced at what you wrote in your reasons for taking this class, but I see you were telling the truth about falling asleep easily.

Riddle: It's rather dangerous to fall asleep while cooking. Has it ever resulted in a fire?

Silver: In Briar Valley, we generally prepare our food using magic. This means that even our flames for cooking are produced via our own magical abilities.

Silver: If I were to fall asleep, my magic would also be cut off and the fire would disappear, so even I haven't had to deal with a fire hazard as such.

Ghost Chef: Hahaha. So it was like you had a built-in automatic shut-off function.

Silver: As it was, back when I couldn't use magic, my father would light the flames for me.

Silver: This meant that even when I dozed off, my father would tend to the fire and he'd adjust… I mean, finish up the dish.

Silver: However, as a child I hadn't realized just how much my father had been trying to keep me from danger.

Silver: That's why I had believed that there would be no issues if I attempted to cook by myself…

Silver: One time, while my father was away, I attempted to cook over a wood fire.

Silver: The morning had been particularly cold that day… So I thought I would make a pot-au-feu for my father.

Silver: I was able to chop the ingredients, throw them in a pot, and season everything with no issues…

Silver: But perhaps that is where I let down my guard. I dozed off while the pot was still on the flame.

Riddle: Ah, but that was quite dangerous! It wasn't fire borne from magic, yes?

Riddle: What happened next?

Silver: I somehow woke up before any fire hazard took place. However, by that point, all the water had boiled away…

Silver: So, I added water to the pot in haste, which only served to turn the whole soup black as the charred bits dissolved into the liquid.

Silver: The dish was a failure. The whole house smelled like char. Just as I was at my wit's end, my father returned home.

Riddle: …Did he scold you?

Silver: Not at all. He just laughed, relieved that I hadn't hurt myself.

Silver: He also said that failure was a stepping stone to improvement for next time.

Silver: Furthermore, he scooped up a bowl of that black and burnt pot-au-feu and ate it without any hesitation.

Silver: My father said that it had a distinctive flavor even as it was, but… There was no way it was anywhere near edible.

Riddle: …He seems to be a very kind father.

Silver: He is, I'm glad to have him.

Riddle: Did you ever have the opportunity to learn how to cook from him?

Silver: He is an adept swordsman and mage, but… When it comes to cooking, both the ingredients he would use and the way he would cook constantly changed on a whim.

Silver: And he could never season anything the same way twice… In short, I never found my father's cooking style to be worth referencing.

Silver: That is why I consider myself self-taught. That being said, I always considered a dish good enough if it was edible.

Silver: All I can really do is chop up meat and vegetables and toss them in salt and pepper, or sometimes take leftovers to make risotto.

Riddle: It is fine enough that you are self-taught. I myself have never prepared anything by my lonesome.

Ghost Chef: Okay now, you two! Get to work, don't just chatter away!

Silver: Ah, right, my apologies… I should chop up the vegetables first.

Silver: I'll peel the carrots.

[peels carrots]

Ghost Chef: Oho～ You've got skills.

Silver: Blades are somewhat of a specialty of mine.

Silver: Next are the onions.

[peels onions]

Riddle: Silver, I am in need of an onion as well. Will you teach me how to peel them?

Ghost Chef/Silver: …?

Riddle: Wh-Why are both of you staring at me strangely!? Was my question that bizarre…?

Silver: It can be peeled by hand.

Riddle: I was not asking for the method of peeling, exactly… Rather, I can't seem to grasp where the peel ends specifically.

Silver: Oh, that's what you meant. The peel is the thin, brown layer on top. The white part is what's edible.

Ghost Chef: If there are any areas that seem to be discolored brown, you can just cut it out.

Riddle: I should cut out the discolored spots…? It's a little disconcerting to create random divots like that.

Ghost Chef: Hmm, Riddle-kun, you're very thorough!

Silver: Don't worry too much. At worst, even if some of the peel were to remain, it would just stick to the inside of your mouth. It is still edible.

Ghost Chef: And on the other hand, Silver-kun, you're much too loose-minded!

Silver: Alright, I've finished chopping up the vegetables and meat. Now, we melt butter in a hot pan…

Silver: And brown the meat.

[sizzle]

Silver: It's almost time to add the vegetables. …Ordinarily, I would just salt and pepper it here and consider it done.

Ghost Chef: That would be a fine dish if it were with a regular sirloin steak. However, shank and tendon taste much better stewed～

Silver: So different cuts of meat are cooked differently, I see. I'd never really thought about that before.

Silver: …Chef, the onions are starting to become translucent, are they sauteed enough?

Ghost Chef: Oh yes, it looks good! Now add water and bring it to a boil.

Silver: It seems we've finally come to the dreaded moment of boiling the stew. I worry I may nod off…

Ghost Chef: Hehehe… Have I got just the thing for you to keep your mind off your worries.

Silver: What is it?

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Silver Version ～Let's Make Beef Stew 2～

Ghost Chef: Let me introduce you to this… Ta-da! An electric pressure cooker!

Silver: An electric pressure cooker…?

Silver: I think I get it. If I use a pressure cooker, that would decrease the amount of time the stew needs to boil.

Silver: Plus, since it's electric, there's a timer function. Even if I were to fall asleep, the ingredients shouldn't char.

Ghost Chef: Yeah… That's basically it. You got it in one before I could even explain it.

Silver: This will be my first time using an electronic appliance to cook.

Riddle: Huh, your first time!? I have limited experience with cooking, and even I have used an electronic appliance like a microwave.

Silver: Of course I know of their existence, at the very least…

Silver: But I hadn't had the chance to use one since I enrolled here because I would just dine in the cafeteria.

Silver: In Briar Valley, most of the homes don't have electricity, let alone appliances like microwaves.

Riddle: Truly, it is a prerequisite to be able to use magic there, I see… It's a life I could not even begin to fathom.

Riddle: Although, I do believe that my magic would improve greatly if I were to live there.

Silver: With your magical prowess and competence, I'm sure you would have no issues living there.

Ghost Chef: Alright, Silver-kun. Throw all the ingredients into the electric pressure cooker.

Ghost Chef: Select the button on the menu panel that says "Beef Stew" and then press start!

[click]

Silver: It says… 20 minutes remaining.

Ghost Chef: Now you're all set. We just need to wait for it to cook.

Silver: Do we not have to keep watch over the pot? Will it need to be stirred midway through?

Ghost Chef: Don't worry, it'll come out fine. In fact, it'll be more prone to failure if we keep poking at it.

Ghost Chef: Leave the pressure cooker be for now, and instead, let's start on the demi-glace sauce!

Silver: It didn't take as long as I expected to make the sauce. I guess I should wash the dirtied pot and knife.

Silver: …I need to… wash the pot…

Ghost Chef: Oh! Hey, hey, Silver-kun!

Silver: Ah! That was close, I almost fell asleep. I can't let my guard down for even a moment.

Silver: I have no earthly idea why.

Ghost Chef: Well, since you stole my thunder a bit earlier, let me try to show you how the electric pressure cooker can be used.

Silver: Yes, please.

Ghost Chef: A handy pressure cooker is capable of crating any number of dishes, but it doesn't mean you have to follow a recipe to the letter.

Ghost Chef: If you swap out ingredients or seasonings, you can make a dish that is more aligned with your personal tastes.

Ghost Chef: For example, you know the ingredients we're using for today's stew?

Ghost Chef: If you chose to substitute tomato juice for the demi-glace sauce, you could make a tomato stew instead.

Silver: …My father loves tomato juice.

Silver: If I substituted tomato juice for the sauce… Maybe my father would gladly eat it up.

～～♪

Silver: What's that noise…? Oh, it's done cooking.

Ghost Chef: Go ahead and open up the lid to the pressure cooker. Take care not to burn yourself when you do.

Silver: Yes, sir.

[opens pot]

Silver: Wow…

Silver: Both the vegetables and meat are cooked to perfection. I would have never guessed that they'd get this tender in only 20 minutes.

Ghost Chef: Yes, yes, and now it's time for the finishing touches.

Silver: Now we add the demi-glace and a tad bit of ketchup to taste. That should be about good.

Silver: Mm, delicious!

Silver: Next, plate it and add boiled broccoli for garnish.

Silver: …Good, it's finished.

Ghost Chef: Not bad! Take the plate and head on out to the judging venue.

Silver: Right. No matter how difficult the judge may be, I'll definitely emerge the victor…!

Ghost Chef: Wait, hold on, you're not going into battle.

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

???: Ah, so you're my chef today, Silver.

Silver: Jamil. I've heard from Kalim that you're very proficient at cooking.

Silver: Within the school body, you're probably the most competent at cooking… Urk, am I even a viable opponent for someone like you?

Jamil: What kind of fight are you even trying to gear up for right now? Well, whatever. I'll dig in now.

[chomp]

Jamil: Hmm… It tastes okay.

Silver: Just okay, hm…

Jamil: However…

Jamil: I'll give you that the ingredients are cooked through pretty well. The meat is so tender it falls apart in my mouth almost instantly.

Jamil: This must have taken you some time, didn’t it? I would have thought you'd be in danger of falling asleep midway through…

Silver: Yeah, I was also worried about that. In fact, while I was waiting for it to stew, I could feel myself getting drowsy.

Silver: The reason this dish was a success was all thanks to the Chef allowing me to use a pressure cooker.

Silver: Since it only stewed for a short while, I was able to push through without drowsing off.

Jamil: That's surprising. I thought the Master Chef program was designed with a focus on improving your cooking abilities…

Jamil: But it seems they provide assistive tools for those who may be lacking in techniques or aptitude. Good to know.

Silver: That's right, they gave me a good way to compensate for my lack of experience.

Silver: Even if I were to fall asleep, I can simply set a timer and the dish won't burn.

Silver: Also, when the timer goes off, it makes a noise, so it would wake me up… Or at least, it should.

Jamil: How did it ever come to your mind to use a pressure cooker as an alarm clock in the first place…?

Silver: I shouldn't constantly rely on outside tools… But I think it's something that I currently have a need for.

Jamil: Thank you for the food.

Jamil: I'm not sure how much of this can be said was of your own skills, but I'll say it was edible.

Silver: Well, it wasn't a flawless victory, but I suppose at least it wasn't an abject failure… I'll continue to work at it.

Ghost Chef: Well done! Looks like you made it through to the end without falling asleep.

Silver: Ah… That reminds me.

Silver: I started to think of how I'd like to make for my father the tomato stew and cabbage rolls that you mentioned…

Silver: Perhaps it's because that was on my mind that I was able to keep the drowsiness at bay.

Ghost Chef: That's because we can't help but try to put forth our best effort whenever we imagine how happy people would look eating our food.

Silver: I see… I guess your state of mind is rather important when it comes to cooking.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #silver #riddle rosehearts #jamil viper #twst silver #twst riddle #twst jamil #twst translation #twst masterchef #mention: kalim #mention: lilia

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