#spices shop near me

[smokysupplies]

Get Pumpkin Spice Breeze Pro Edition from Smoky Supplies

Revel the exquisite Pumpkin Spice Breeze Pro from Smoky Supplies, boasting a sophisticated design and premium materials. Elevate your vaping experience with the advanced Mesh Coil technology, making the Breeze Pro a standout in disposable vapes. Breathe in innovation with Breeze Smoke.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Snicker T-Shirts Monthly Subscription Men or Women

There is never a dull moment with Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations T-Shirt Monthly Subscription Box! Everyone loves a good t-shirt! Whether to lounge around the house, go on a date, run errands, or deliver a message.

The pictures with this listing is just examples of the the Humor T-Shirt Subscription.

Each month you will receive a brand new never before seen, one of a kind designed t-shirt by Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations. As a T-Shirt Club Member, receive exclusive access to our new designed merchandise and special discounts.

How does Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations T-Shirt Subscription Work?

Each month you will receive a brand new never before seen designed t-shirt for $15.99 for adult small to XL, $18.99 for 2XLarge, 3XLarge $21.99 plus shipping. Sign up by the last day of any month and your first t-shirt will ship by the 7th of following month.

Modify or cancel your subscription at any time, no hard feelings, we’re here if you need assistance, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. To cancel your subscription, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations are very flexible, we offer the ability to skip a month rather than canceling your membership, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. If any changes need to be made, please make the changes 7 days prior to the 1st of the month.

Shipping: We can ship to you or a loved one. To make any changes to your shipping request, the change(s) would need to be made 7 days prior to the 1st of the month.

Returns: In order to keep our pricing as competitive as possible, we do not offer returns. If you are not satisfied with a particular month’s design, we encourage you to gift it to a friend or a family member and stick around for the following month!

Sizes: We offer adult sizes small to 3XL. If you are needing a 4XL or larger, please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

#grannygrandpascustomcreations - #t-shirt - #T-Shirtsubscription - #subscriptionbox

There is never a dull moment with Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations T-Shirt Monthly Subscription Box! Everyone loves a good t-shirt! Whether to lounge around the house, go on a date, run errands, or deliver a message.

The pictures with this listing is just examples of the the Humor T-Shirt Subscription.

Each month you will receive a brand new never before seen, one of a kind designed t-shirt by Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations. As a T-Shirt Club Member, receive exclusive access to our new designed merchandise and special discounts.

How does Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations T-Shirt Subscription Work?

Each month you will receive a brand new never before seen designed t-shirt for $15.99 for adult small to XL, $18.99 for 2XLarge, 3XLarge $21.99 plus shipping. Sign up by the last day of any month and your first t-shirt will ship by the 7th of following month.

Modify or cancel your subscription at any time, no hard feelings, we’re here if you need assistance, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. To cancel your subscription, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations are very flexible, we offer the ability to skip a month rather than canceling your membership, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. If any changes need to be made, please make the changes 7 days prior to the 1st of the month.

Shipping: We can ship to you or a loved one. To make any changes to your shipping request, the change(s) would need to be made 7 days prior to the 1st of the month.

Returns: In order to keep our pricing as competitive as possible, we do not offer returns. If you are not satisfied with a particular month’s design, we encourage you to gift it to a friend or a family member and stick around for the following month!

Sizes: We offer adult sizes small to 3XL. If you are needing a 4XL or larger, please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

#grannygrandpascustomcreations - #t-shirt - #T-Shirtsubscription - #subscriptionbox

[kokoraspices]

Shop Now for Organic Spices at KokoraSpices

The richness of organic flavors with KokoraSpices. Our premium selection of organic spices promises exceptional taste and quality. Shop now for an authentic culinary journey. https://kokoraspices.com

[rvspice]

Sri Lankan food, packed with history and tradition, offers a delicious variety of dishes that show off the country’s diverse background. From aromatic curries to fiery sambol and mouth-watering sweets, every bite tells a story of cultural fusion and culinary expertise.

[sampoorna-food-products]

Sampoorna Food Products With Indian Spices Raw Materials Pictures

[katsukikitten]

You're a spicy little Omega, so combative most mistake you for an Alpha. You hold eye contact like one, gaze as sharp as any knife, even the strongest Alpha struggle not to bare their teeth at you.

And your scent, comforting to beta and omega alike but to Alpha, oh to alpha you smell too intense. Dizzying, headache inducing, and some even take it as a threat.

You worsen it by purchasing this pheromone perfume your friends have. Their scents doubled, so pleasant it has even you wanting to corner them so you know it will only worsen yours. Spraying it onto your throat and wrists, dabbing behind your ears with a deadly smile on your face as you can already smell the spice of your attitude stinging the air.

Paths are cleared for you, Alpha turning their faces away, covering their nose, something that used to make you cry in the dead of night throughout highschool but now you embrace it. Use it to your advantage and you avoid less fights this way although your throat says otherwise.

Walking through the shopping district followed by a few Omega and Beta that subconsciously want to avoid the Alpha gaze in the busy streets even with the patrolling heroes.

Confident in each of your steps until you suddenly smell smoky caramel, a warm body pressing you against cold brick in the alley way. You're not sure when you were pulled and pinned so quickly but your claws find his back and teeth his chest, he's smart to protect his throat.

"Could smell ya half way cross the city. Been looking everywhere for you." He's growling, displeasure dripping from the syllables as he presses his cheek to yours. Forcing you to present your throat that he presses his nose into. Inhaling deeply and when you finally register his cock throbbing against your leg you freeze for a moment.

Something you've never done since you presented as an Omega. Your friends talked about this. About this moment in time where an omega will just melt for an alpha, how it's out of their control, a subconscious primal thing. Something you scoffed at, something you never wanted to happen, something you knew would never happen with the way alphas sneered down at you. How they'd grip their napes and turn their heads away from you because you were just a little "too much" even when you took suppressants, they claimed you were too combative.

You feel your knees go weak, legs turning to jelly but your jaw releases only to bite at the juncture of his throat in warning. You've ripped out glands before and you'd do it again.

This is when you'd be met with a warning bite of their own but instead his body presses more into yours. Hips bucking, long groan that makes a subtle shudder snake up his spine. Tongue peaking from behind his lips to lap at your throat a moment, palms popping against brick as he loses his hold on his restraint.

Katsuki has never felt like this, never chased the scent of an Omega and if he was honest he preferred to fuck alphas, so to have been pulled off his patrol route cause he caught wind of something like a dog has him conflicted.

A little angry.

Bakugou didn't lose control like this, at least not anymore.

Canines elongated, points scrapping your skin, salivating over your scent as he huffs over your sensitive gland. Eyes stinging with frustration to not rip up your pants and underwear, to pop every button on your blouse to see those fat tits in the low light.

"Got me in damn near tears I want ya so bad." A growl in your ear, bruising grip on your ribs, saliva from the Alpha dripping onto your throat.

The sound of it has you completely limp in his hold, this was not what the perfume was supposed to do. It was supposed to keep everyone at bay not invite the most aggressive and combative alpha hero to make claim of your body.

This sure as hell isn't what you wanted.

So why do you tilt your face away that much more so that Katsuki can have more skin to nose at your throat?

[powdermelonkeg]

Trying to figure out TP Link's diet based on his environment.

Livestock-wise, we've got cuccos and goats. That means

Eggs

Milk

Butter

Cheese

Potentially meat, but I don't think they get eaten unless they're old. Too valuable otherwise | EDIT: Oh yeah you need to breed goats every couple years to get milk. Add in cabrito veal!

And we know for a fact that Ordon Goat Cheese specifically is a thing. Stamped wheel and everything.

There's also fish

And bees/hornets(? It's called bee larva, but the enemy is a Hylian Hornet)

Useful for bait, but Link can eat them.

Did some more research, and apparently in Japan they eat wasp larvae? Specifically in Kushihara. So I'm counting it.

Then plants-wise we have pumpkins

And...corn. Somehow. I've never seen corn growing, but Link has some hanging in his house, so it exists.

I'm choosing to believe it comes from these plants that grow in patches around Ordon.

That gives us a lot. We've got

Cornstarch

Cornmeal

Corn oil

Corn shoots

Pumpkin seeds

Pumpkin seed oil

Pumpkin flour

Pumpkin blossoms

No source of sugar, but depending on how the pumpkins in Ordon taste, they could be naturally sweet. Like pie pumpkins. Also corn syrup is a thing if it's a sweet corn. So corn syrup needs cream of tartar which comes from grapes and apples and such. It's a byproduct of wine. No corn syrup.

Edit: Malt sugar, though!

Now for hypothetical foods.

Ordon is surrounded by pine trees, so that adds pine needle tea and pine nuts to the mix. I was a little worried about species, but apparently there are a lot of pine trees that make edible seeds, so on the list it goes.

Then there are frogs near Rusl and Uli's house, wild songbirds on cliffs, and a squirrel that talks to Link directly, so those are huntable sources of meat.

Is horse grass a cattail? Maybe? Initially, I thought it was—the ends look like cattail seedpuffs, but the leaves are completely different.

I want to treat them like cattails. Cattails that also are probably the main food source for Epona and the goats.

If we do that, that means, on top of all the other uses cattails have like stuffing and tinder and antiseptic, we get

Roots

Shoots

Ground seeds

Can't find a good match for hawk grass though. Concluding that that's not edible. Equivalent exchange and all.

Side note, how do you think horse grass spreads? It's almost always in groups of two or more plants, so that suggests rhizomes, but the image of Link picking one up to blow and stuffing flying out the end of the horseshoe is hilarious to me.

Up next, there are ferns, primarily near trees. After very careful and way-too-deep analysis of a pixelated fern's leaves, I think it's bracken fern.

Which is mildly poisonous.

And also edible.

On the list it goes!

Then finally, Sera has some kind of herb hanging in her shop.

I don't know what it is. I'm calling it Ordon Spice. Congratulations, Ordon Pumpkin Spice is now a thing.

[vivwritescrappythings]

squeeze

tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!afab!reader

Eddie is your tattoo artist and long term boyfriend, one night you have an idea of how to spice up your next tattoo session.

an: idk why I thought of this but I did

cw: fem and afab reader, needles, tattoos, unsanitary tattoo practices, don’t let anyone do this to you, p in v sex, cockwarming, masturbation, mild dubcon, mentions of marijuana use, i picture this version of eddie as older, masochism, swearing, dirty talk, not proofread.

wc: 2.3k

masterlist

MDNI

—

It was only after a few joints that you could have ever thought this was a marginally good idea. You and Eddie were well baked by the time you stumbled out of his van in the alley, eyes bloodshot and a wide smile on your face. The rest of the tattoo shop was dark as Eddie snuck you in the back door, the two of you giggling like vandals as though it wasn’t his shop. The keys jingled as he tucked them back into his pocket, nudging you toward his station.

He turned on the harsh fluorescent lamps surrounding the leather chair in the center of the small space. Paper screens separated it from the rest of the store, drawings and sketches stuck haphazardly all over the dividers and walls. “You’ve been drawing more,” you murmured, looking over the magnitude of new additions.

Eddie was already wiping down the chair and getting set up, looking over his shoulder at you with a hum of acknowledgment. You took in the way his shoulders filled out his worn Metallica shirt, his jacket hanging on a hook near the back door. There was something about his warm, chocolate-colored eyes that made your heart flutter every time he glanced at you.

“You gonna pick something out or just stare at me?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, a little too stoned to come up with a response you considered to be clever enough. The wall of flash tattoos beckoned you closer. Eddie had given you countless tattoos at that point, insisting that dating a tattoo artist meant you had to get all your work done by him.

Anyone else would just be cheating.

It was how the two of you met five years ago: you came into the shop with a crumpled piece of paper with a book quote you loved scrawled onto it looking to get your very first tattoo. Eddie had stolen you from the guy who usually took the walk-in clients with a saccharine smile, ushering you to his little sectioned off area and charging you half what he normally would for a tattoo that size. You left with fresh ink and Eddie’s number, and the rest was history.

You squinted up at dozens of drawings crudely taped to the wall, admiring the smooth linework and the variety. There were a few from his Hellfire days, fleshed out Dungeons & Dragons monsters and sets of dice high up near the ceiling. The rest were the typical subjects: skulls and flowers and doodles of food and ghosts.

It was hard to decide, your arms folding over your chest as you worried your lower lip with your teeth. Normally it was a quick decision, you’d pick something off the wall or had an idea of your own and Eddie would be off to the races.

That time it took Eddie pulling out the battered notebook he insisted he did his best work in, his name scratched into the black cover. “How about this one? Been workin’ on it, thought it would look good on you,” he murmured, flipping it open to a page in the middle.

The drawing was beautiful, detailed and delicate while still fitting with the rest of your tattoos. You realized that Eddie was listening when you told him you wanted to tattoo your sternum a few months ago, the pages littered in drawings that were suited to the smooth patch of skin over the bone. As always, he knew what you wanted more than you did.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you finally said, tracing it with your fingertip.

“Yeah? You sure?” Eddie asked, already rifling through drawers to put together a stencil.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you sat back on the leather chair. “Matches everything else you’ve put on me,” you said, making yourself comfortable as he went off to trace out a stencil.

You fidgeted with the well-worn Corroded Coffin shirt you were wearing, running your fingers over the torn-up hem and looking up at the ceiling tiles Eddie had painted black.

Meeting Eddie must have been the luckiest moment of your life. You never thought that you’d find someone, for some reason you’d been convinced that you were beyond what anyone wanted—destined to be the old lady with the cats at the end of the street. But Eddie wanted you, he wanted you fiercely and with a passion that was almost startling sometimes.

“Alright, dove, shirt off,” Eddie said, startling you out of your thoughts. He rounded the corner with the stencil in hand, chocolatey eyes focused on you.

You complied, slipping the shirt off your head and tossing the fabric onto a nearby folding chair. The cold air in the shop made you shiver with just your pajama shorts on. You’d forgone wearing a bra, the trip to the tattoo parlor borne from a spontaneous idea you had in the living room of your shared apartment.

“Never gonna get tired of that,” Eddie mumbled, staring at your chest as you settled back onto the cold leather. You rolled your eyes as your face started to heat up, part of you wanting to cover your chest with your hands.

Eddie stood between your legs, rolling over the silver tray that held the little containers of ink and gloves and his machine. He’d already washed his hands, his fingers were cold as he shaved off the smattering of vellus hairs covering your skin. You squeaked when he wiped down your skin with an alcohol pad. His tongue poked out when he concentrated, his brow furrowed as he started to apply the stencil.

He pressed firm to get it to transfer, pulling the strip of paper away and reaching for a mirror for you to see it. It was weird to see yourself reflected back in the small hand mirror. You sat up to properly inspect how it looked between your tits, the U-shaped stretch marks between them catching and shining in the fluorescent light. The mirror tilted up, letting you see your own bloodshot, hazy gaze in the mirror. The blunts Eddie had rolled earlier were strong.

“Looks great, Eds,” you said, lips quirking into a grin as you settled back on the chair. Eddie hummed, letting the mirror drop with a clatter on his drawing space as he went to wash his hands again.

He came back ready, black latex gloves pulled over his hands and hair tied back in a low bun at the nape of his neck.

Bony hips knocked the insides of your thighs apart, your boyfriend curling down over you. “You still feeling up to the rest of this?” he asked, a brow lifting until it disappeared under his frizzy bangs. You were silent for a minute, taking in the sincerity of his expression. “You don’t have to if you’re not feeling right, dove. I can just do the tattoo and we can go home.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head and blurting out protests a little too eagerly. It made him grin, boyish charm returning to his stubble-ridden face as though he wasn’t a day out of high school.

“If you feel uncomfortable, what do you say?” Eddie prompted softly, leaning forward to nudge his nose against your temple. He didn’t touch you with his hands, keeping them sterile.

“Yoo-hoo,” you mumbled a little sheepishly. Eddie picked it, the safe word always made you roll your eyes.

He hummed sweetly, pressing a kiss just above your eyebrow. “That’s right,” Eddie said, the simple praise already making you feel warm.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him, watching him get the machine going and getting ink on the needles. It felt like your body was buzzing with anticipation, your knees squeezing at his waist.

“Help me out, can’t get my hands dirty,” Eddie said, twisting to fuss with something on the tray next to him. You didn’t care about what he was grabbing, only reaching forward to loop your fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing. On a normal day he wouldn’t be caught dead here in sweatpants.

The original idea had come from you. Something in your stoned mind combined to make you ask Eddie if he’d ever thought about cockwarming while giving a tattoo. He looked at you like you’d grown a second head, but fifteen minutes later he wanted to bring your fantasy to life.

“Been so fucking hard ever since you brought this up,” Eddie hissed through his teeth as you pulled his sweatpants down over his cock. It slapped up against his stomach, the tip flushed red and already leaking. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to wrap your hand around him.

The soft moan coming from Eddie’s pink lips was gratifying in more ways than you expected, satisfaction making you feel warm as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“You want me to take my shorts off?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to one side. There was a thrill associated with being naked in the tattoo shop. Of course, it was the middle of the night as no one would have reason to be there, but it still felt scandalous all the same.

“Yeah,” he said, the harsh buzzing of the tattoo machine starting as he touched the needle to the ink. The sound was familiar to you now, part of you associating it with Eddie. “It’ll be complicated to do this if you leave them on.”

You rolled your eyes, letting go of him to strip yourself of your shorts. He cursed under his breath when he saw you completely naked on the chair. Brown eyes traveled over every curve and slope of your body, taking it all in with reverence as his tongue poked out to run over his bottom lip.

There was a brief pause, the two of you waiting for the other to do something. Eddie ended up taking charge.

“Play with yourself for me,” he mumbled, staring down at your cunt. His gloved fingers twitched. “Get her nice and wet.”

Your face heated up at his request, bashfulness binding your chest together for a moment. It was impossible not to comply with Eddie’s request, your fingers finding their place between your legs. You touched yourself without fanfare, your fingertips settling on either side of your clit and rubbing in tight circles.

His gaze was locked on your cunt, chin pressed to his chest and lips parted. Normally you would be embarrassed under that kind of focus, but the awe shining in Eddie’s eyes made your anxiety slip away.

Your movements were practiced and smooth, sending electricity up and down your spine. It was easy to get turned on, your breaths eventually becoming pants and wetness building up around your fingers. His jaw was clenching, you knew he wanted to pull your fingers away and touch you himself.

He huffed, swallowing hard before directing his gaze to your eyes. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, stepping in closer between your legs. “Before I just decide to ruin my sterile environment and fuck you the right way.”

The idea was enticing, making you bite your lip as you considered. But you already came all the way down here and had the stencil placed and ink in the tattoo gun. And you wanted to make your fantasies happen.

You grabbed Eddie’s cock, your wet fingers smearing down the length of it. Of all the times you fucked, you almost never were the one to guide him inside of you. It was a bit clumsy as you dragged his tip through the soaked seam of your cunt, nudging against the swollen bud of your clit a few times.

Finally you hit your mark, Eddie’s deep moan filling the air as he slotted himself inside of you with a strong thrust. The patch of dark, soft curls at his base brushed against your already sensitive clit. The stretch made you see stars. Your head rolled back against the leather chair, a breathy whine pulling from you as he rubbed against every gummy ridge and gooey spot inside of you.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. He seemed to be going through a similar sense of euphoria, his long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he breathed into the feeling.

His eyes open, pupils expanding like ink in water as he curled over you, readying the tattoo machine over your chest. He blinked hard, rutting softly against you once… twice… before steadying. The concentration was incredible to witness, his expression hardening and jaw flexing again.

“You ready, dove?” he asked, briefly glancing up at you before staring at the patch of stenciled skin like he could burn a tattoo into it with just his eyes.

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling like your entire body was made up of TV static as you willed yourself to relax on the chair.

He nodded, the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun starting again. It pressed to your skin like fire, the vibration carrying from the gun all the way down into the flat bone of your sternum. You held your breath without meaning to, toes curling.

Eddie groaned, a smile finding its way onto his face. “You’re squeezing so fucking tight around me,” he said, voice a bit raspier than normal.

You made a conscious effort to relax, staring up at the ceiling and tapping the tips of your fingers along the sides of the chair. “Sorry,” you murmured, a giggle echoing from you as Eddie resumed the line he was tattooing.

Each stab of the needles kept your body alight, teetering you on the edge of pain and pleasure. “You're such a masochist.”

You smiled, your gaze hazy and your pussy fluttering a bit as you took shallow breaths. “I know, it’s gonna be a long night.”

[writerastray]

Recreate

General Masterlist - Read this before interacting

Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.

⚠︎ My work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/f!Reader

-> Word count: 4.2k

-> Rating: 18+→ Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes: Romance, Mutual Pining, Romantic/Sexual Tension, One-shot, Fluff, Fun, (a sprinkle of angst), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Childhood Friends to Lovers.)

-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Heartbreak, Writer's Block/Creative Struggles, Alcohol Consumption, Use of fake dagger? Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

-> Synopsis: Hyunjin, a successful author, can’t seem to write a decent romance scene anymore. When you, his childhood friend, visit him for the weekend and discover his creative block, you propose a bold solution: recreating the scenes together. The only catch? Hyunjin insists that you be his partner.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

The coffee shop was about to close.

The streets were a bit busy, as it was almost Christmas time. Most of the stores were filled with people rushing to buy last-minute gifts.

The cold wind carried the scent of witch hazel from the flower shop nearby, mixed with the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts and cinnamon from street vendors. Beneath the glow of streetlights, the snow sparkled like scattered diamonds, and laughter echoed as couples and families hurried by, their breath visible in the frosty air.

Your feet didn’t move as you saw Hyunjin at the counter, smiling at a young lady as he completed her payment. It hadn’t been long—just a year and a half, in fact—but it felt like years since you had last seen him. He reminded you so much of when he was younger: playful eyes, still flirty, and that sweet smile that never failed to make your stomach flip.

After countless copies of his books were sold, he still lived above the coffee shop. You remembered when he asked you to help him move there. You still had that bittersweet taste in your mouth after leaving Hyunjin by himself and returning to the countryside alone.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your bag and crossed the street. The bell above the door chimed as you entered, and warmth immediately wrapped around you. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee blended with the buttery scent of croissants and the sweet spice of cinnamon rolls. Your stomach growled in response.

You walked to the counter, and your gaze met Hyunjin’s.

His eyes widened briefly before a slow smile tugged at his lips. Surprise melted into something sharper, a piercing stare that almost stole your breath away.

Tilting his head, he asked, “Why is there a witch in my coffee shop?”

You smiled back. “If you don’t want to be cursed,” you replied, leaning on the counter, “I’d suggest making me something to eat.”

“So demanding,” he said, shaking his head. “Give me five minutes.” He disappeared into the kitchen. His voice echoed from inside, and you couldn't help but smile at his loud giggle.

Looking around, you noticed an empty table in the corner near a wall full of quotes. One caught your eye: “I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” — Alice in Wonderland. It used to be Hyunjin's favorite as a child.

Hyunjin returned five minutes later, carrying a plate of food.

“Here you go, my dear witch.”

He sat across from you, his gaze fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing he’d seen in years. His black hair was slightly tousled, and it had grown since you last saw him, curling at the ends. His white shirt was rumpled, and yet he looked just as princely as the first time you met him as a child.

“What? Missed me that much?” you teased.

His brow arched slightly before he asked, “How are you doing, Y/N?” in that soft voice of his.

“To be honest, I’m doing well. Life has been kind to me.”

It had been five years since you moved to the countryside to live on your own. It was your dream since childhood, when you lived with your grandma during the summers; and even though all your friends were in the city for college, you chose to stay.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said. “And your grandma?”

“She’s on a cruise with my mom,” you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. “Can you imagine those two stuck together on a ship?”

He laughed, and you felt your heart race at the sight. His head tilted back, eyes crinkling into crescents.

“I give it two days before they’re at each other’s throats,” you quipped.

“Two days?” he said, still chuckling. “You’re being generous. Your grandma’s probably having the time of her life annoying your mom.”

The bell above the door jingled, and a small group of students entered, their chatter filling the cozy space. Hyunjin stood, brushing off his hands, still smiling. “Eat. You’re home—head upstairs when you’re done. They’re my last customers, and I’ll close up after.”

You nodded and turned your attention to the plate in front of you. The food was every bit as delicious as you’d hoped, and Minho hadn’t been exaggerating about the Tiramisu—it was the best dessert you had ever had.

After finishing, you gathered your things and started toward the stairs, only to hear Hyunjin call out. He jogged over, pulling something from his pocket. “Keys,” he said, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he tossed them to you.

You caught them midair, raising an eyebrow. “Still trusting me with these after all these years?”

He winked before turning back to the counter. “Always.”

His apartment was a blend of a library and an art studio. Bookshelves lined the walls, overflowing with novels, sketchbooks, and scattered trinkets from his travels. Canvases rested against the corners of the room, some blank, others adorned with half-finished paintings. A faint scent of paint lingered in the air, mixing with the subtle sweetness of the winter jasmine that drifted in through the open balcony door. You chuckled. He hadn’t changed at all.

You walked to the guest room. It was simple, with just a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. You placed your bag in the corner and let yourself fall onto the bed. It was soft and smelled fresh—Hyunjin must have just put on clean sheets. You grabbed your phone and sent a message to your mom, letting her know you were at Hyunjin’s, and another in the group chat with your friends. You were here for your yearly winter reunion with your childhood friends. This year, it would be at Chan’s apartment.

The apartment door creaked open, followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place. Hyunjin’s voice carried through the quiet space. “Love?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a soft snort. His footsteps were nearly silent, but you sensed his presence before you saw him. He appeared in the doorway of the guest room, leaning casually against the frame, a bottle in hand. “Strawberry wine?”

The sweet wine slid down smoothly. It was dizzying in the best way, loosening muscles that had been tight since you’d stepped on the train to the city.

“So, the reunion,” Hyunjin started, swirling his glass of wine lazily. “Changbin’s girlfriend is coming. Nervous?”

Changbin had been your first love, and for a long time, you regretted ending things. You thought that if you’d been stronger, you might still be together. Maybe you could have fought harder, tried to make the long-distance relationship work. But you didn’t. Then time did its thing, and eventually, you moved on.

You met his gaze steadily, though the question tugged at an old scar. “He’s my best friend at the end of the day.”

This would also be the first time Hyunjin and Felix would be with the rest of the group in the same room.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said quickly. “Hard to believe, but I’ve moved on too.”

It was hard to believe. He had been a mess after his breakup. It was the worst you’d ever seen him.

You were at Chan’s apartment that evening, watching a movie on the couch, when the door slammed open. Hyunjin stumbled in, his face red, tears streaming down his cheeks. His chest heaved as though he couldn’t catch his breath, one hand clutching the fabric of his shirt over his heart.

“It hurts,” he choked out. That was all he could manage before his knees gave out, and Chan rushed to catch him.

You’d only seen him like this once before, years ago, because of his parents. He clung to Chan like he was the only thing keeping him steady, reduced to sobs that wracked his entire body; his fingers digging into his friend’s shirt as he gasped for air between cries.

For days, he stayed in bed, barely speaking. He’d stare blankly at the ceiling or curl into himself, clutching a pillow as though it could shield him from the pain. It took weeks before he could even crack a small smile, and months before that smile felt genuine again.

“So, what’s your new book about this time?” you asked, wanting to talk about something else.

He groaned. “Nothing.”

You frowned. Hyunjin’s mind was never without a story. “What happened this time?”

He smiled faintly. “If I tell you, will you solve the problem?”

“No,” you said.

He eyed you. “Maybe.”

His eyebrow arched. “Probably,” you gave up.

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re just like when we were kids, trying to solve all the problems in the world.”

“Don’t change the subject,” you said.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and licked his lips before meeting your gaze. “I know the story. It’s just... some scenes don’t feel natural. I think I don’t know how to write romance anymore.” Then, tilting his head with a smirk, he added, “Do you have a spell to fix it?”

You threw a cushion at his head as his laughter filled the night.

The next morning was a sunny Saturday. You stayed in bed for at least an hour before finally getting up. You hadn’t fallen asleep until 1 a.m., trying to come up with a solution to Hyunjin’s problem. You couldn’t help it; you loved solving them.

Eventually, an idea came to you.

Hyunjin was in the kitchen, wearing a white shirt so large it slipped off his collarbones, holding an apple in one hand.

“Isn’t it too early for you to bother me?” he mumbled.

You smiled at his annoyed tone. He had always been like that when he woke up at your grandma’s house after sleepovers.

“I thought about what you said last night,” you said, pouring coffee into a yellow mug and sitting across from him at the table. “About your writing.”

His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “Haven’t I told you not to bother with this?”

“Actually, no, you didn’t. Besides, when have I ever listened to you?”

He closed his eyes, his mouth opening and closing as if the words were hard to form. Then he rolled his eyes and said, “Speak.”

You sipped your coffee before continuing, “What if you tried recreating a scene? You know, live it out—get into the character’s head.”

He stilled mid-bite, his expression skeptical. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard a lot of writers do that. Whether it’s fight scenes or dance scenes, some even take classes to understand them better.”

“Tonight, you’re going back home,” he deadpanned.

You pressed on. “It can work. At least you should try it!”

Hyunjin was silent for a while before finishing his apple and taking a gulp of his coffee. He leaned back in his chair. “And I suppose the person I’d recreate it with would be you. Is that your way of telling me you’re interested in me?”

You looked away, embarrassed. “Of course not!” The warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your calm tone. “And it doesn’t need to be me. We can find someone you’re more comfortable with.”

He got up and came closer to you. His hands were in his pockets, but you felt caged by his stare. He looked up and put a hand to his lips, tilting his head slightly, until his whole body stopped.

His eyes met yours.

“It’s not you that’s the problem.”

“What is it then? You? It’s not me; the problem is you.” You sighed. “If your books are as cliché as you—”

“My books are good.”

“And if you want to write another one, you need to work on your field research.”

“Is that what you call making out with me?”

“It is now.”

He opened his mouth, then sank his teeth into his lower lip. For a moment, you couldn’t stop staring. When you realized you were mirroring his action, you looked into his eyes. He seemed to be searching for something, but then you saw his shoulders relax, and his eyes closed.

Hyunjin sighed dramatically, crossing the room to grab a notebook. “Fine. Let’s try it.”

“Wait—‘we’?” you asked, taken aback.

He turned, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You’re the one who suggested it, love. Field research, remember?”

Hyunjin leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. The faint glow of his laptop screen illuminated his concentrated expression. Next to him, you watched the rays of sunlight slip through the drawn curtains, while absently turned a fake dagger between your fingers—a prop he had picked up at one of his book signings. 

“So, they can’t be together, even if they have feelings for each other, because he’s immortal, and she has to die tomorrow for him to claim the throne and start a war?” you asked.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the screen.

“Got it.” But the truth was, you didn’t. Your hands were clammy, your heart pounding so loudly you wondered if he could hear it.

The way he avoided your eyes didn’t help. You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to stay steady. “If this makes you uncomfortable, we can find someone else—” 

“There’s no one else,” he answered, his tone firm. “And I’m not uncomfortable.”

You studied his face, looking for any hint of hesitation. “Are you sure?”

He nodded and finally met your gaze. His stare sets you ablaze. We’ll only pretend. Nothing more, you remind yourself. 

You licked your lips before asking with a small smile, “Not even nervous?”

He arched an eyebrow. His hand brushed your waist, and you saw the shift in his eyes—intense and almost hypnotic.

“I don’t think I’m the only one who’s nervous,” he said. His smirk deepened, and, in one swift motion, he pulled you closer. “Whenever you’re ready, little witch,” he teased.

With slightly trembling hands, you grabbed the dagger and placed it against his throat.

“You think I won’t do it?” you said, reciting the line from his book, though your voice wavered.

"You don’t have the courage," he said, his voice low and taunting.

"Of course I have," you lied, gripping the dagger tighter.

His breath hitched, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before snapping back to your eyes.

"So, do it," he whispered.

You don’t answer. Instead, you lean into him, your lips brushing his in a kiss that starts soft but deepens almost instantly.

 It took you to somewhere far from reality. Was that really happening? Were you really making out with your childhood friend for the sake of a book? 

His hand slides to the back of your neck and you tilt your head, pressing closer. He makes a low sound in his throat that sends a thrill through you.

When you finally broke apart, you were breathless, your lips swollen and your heart racing.  

Hyunjin’s gaze is heavy-lidded, staring at you, his pupils blown wide, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

“I—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat.

Hyunjin’s lips twitched, his eyes darkening in amusement. “What’s wrong? Afraid to take the next step?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “No,” you shot back, though your voice wavered. 

You hadn’t expected kissing him to feel so… right.  Like finally finding the missing piece of a puzzle.

Hyunjin’s eyes searched for yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it lingered, testing you, daring you.

“Then prove it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you again, but he stopped short. His gaze flicked between your eyes and lips. “What would they do next?” 

You swallowed hard, caught between the roles you were meant to play and the reality of what you felt. “They wouldn’t stop.” 

Hyunjin’s lips curved into a smirk, “No,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t think they would.”

He leaned forward, capturing your lips again, and this time, there was no hesitation.

Hyunjin’s hand slides from your neck to your waist, pulling you into him until you're straddling his lap. The laptop, once forgotten, slides, together with the dagger, to the floor with a soft thud. 

Your breath hitches as his lips leave yours, trailing a hot, open-mouthed path along your jaw, neck, and the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groans, the sound reverberating against your skin.

“You’re so…” Hyunjin’s voice falters, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, his words almost too much to say. “Irresistible.”

You feel his lingering smirk as his hands roam lower, gripping your hips and holding you in place as you rock against him.

“Hyunjin,” you breathe, your voice breaking on his name. You try to remind yourself that every kiss is just pretend. You are only recreating a scene.

He lifts his head, his dark eyes searching yours, his expression raw and vulnerable. “Say my name like you mean it, love. You know you want to,” he says, his thumb brushing your lips.

Your lips part, and you lean forward, kissing him again. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, tugging it upward until he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. You pause at the sight of him—his skin smooth and warm, taut over lean muscle, the sunlight spilling through the curtains painting him in golden hues.

You reach for him, your fingers brushing the curve of his jaw and the dip of his collarbone; he shivers at your touch. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

“Am I?” His brows lift, the corners of his lips tilting into a mischievous grin. “If I remember correctly, you once called me a frog.”

You laugh as Hyunjin’s hands trace the curve of your waist. His lips meet yours, tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss as he explores you slowly, savoring every moment. 

His fingers curl under the hem of your shirt, and he says against your lips, “Is this okay?” His voice is thick and unsteady for just a moment, making your heart coil inside you.

“Yes,” you whisper, trembling with anticipation. “Please.”

He bites his lips, eyes darkening; and then he’s pulling your shirt up, over your head, revealing your bare skin to the soft glow of the sunlight.

Hyunjin freezes for a moment, his gaze roaming over you like you’re... something precious. You need to remind yourself that it’s not real, that both of you are just pretending—for the sake of the book.

Hyunjin’s plump lips capture yours messily. "I dreamed about this," he says between kisses.

He leans down, his lips brushing the curve of your collarbone, then lower, to the swell of your breast. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

You arch into his touch, your body instinctively seeking more, and he takes the hint, his mouth closing over your nipple. He sucks softly, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there as he switches to the other, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak before nipping it lightly with his teeth.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, your hips bucking against him.

He groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he moves, pinning you against the couch. His hips grind against yours, the hard press of him sparking a heat that blooms low in your belly.

He grips your waist before sliding your pants down, taking your underwear with them, leaving you bare beneath him.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at you—his gaze consumed by desire, his lips parted—erases any hesitation. 

He kisses his way down your body, his hands following the path of his mouth, brushing over your hips, your thighs, until he’s settled between your legs.  

His lips trail over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his breath warm against you as he moves closer, his hands gently spreading you. “You want me, hm?” His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “Tell me, love, what exactly do you need?”  

You moan, almost begging. “Stop messing with me.”  

He chuckles and finally leans in. Hyunjin’s tongue traces a path along your slick folds. Your body jolts at the sensation, back arching as a strangled moan escapes your lips.  

His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue circles, flicks, and plays with your clit. You can’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips, your hands holding his curls tight. 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, voice high and breathless.  

He looks up at you, lips glistening, gaze burning with desire, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “If you keep doing that, love, I might not be able to stop.”  

Your hips buck against him, body chasing the building pleasure as he slips a finger inside, then another, curling them in a way that makes you see stars. He pumps them slowly at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue, then faster as your breaths come in short, sharp gasps.  

“Hyunjin, I’m—”  

You shatter, body tightening around his fingers as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cry out, holding him against you as he guides you through your climax, his movements slowing but never stopping.

When you finally calm, your chest rising and falling with each breath, he traces his kisses back up your body, his lips lingering on your skin as though he can’t get enough of you. The firm length of his cock presses against your thigh, sending another rush of arousal through you.

His eyes search for yours, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “We don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to,” he says, his voice soft, careful.  

“I do,” you say, reaching for him, your hands finding the waistband of his pants. “I want this,” you add, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.  

Hyunjin’s breath catches as he helps you push his pants and boxers down. You swallowed, taking him in—hard, heavy, and glistening with arousal. “I’ve never been more sure.”  

For a moment, he freezes, his eyes locked on yours, and you realize what you’ve just said. You silently hope he thinks it’s the character speaking and not the hypothesis that you might be way more into him than you thought.

His forehead drops to yours as he pushes into you, slow and steady, filling you inch by inch until you feel impossibly full. Your body stretches around him, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.  

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice a broken plea, “my goddess.”  

You can’t speak, can only nod as he begins to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm. His thrusts grow deeper as he leans down to capture your lips again. The kiss is fierce, almost desperate, his tongue sliding against yours before his lips suck, lick, and bite yours repeatedly.  

Your legs wrap around his waist; the friction between you sparking waves of pleasure. He moans into your mouth, his hands sliding under you to tilt your hips, fucking you harder.  

“Hyunjin,” you whimper. 

Your hands roam over his back, nails scraping lightly against his skin, and you feel him shudder above you. You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, each movement sending shockwaves through you. The pressure coils low in your belly as your body tightens around him. “Just like that,” you said.

Hyunjin’s hand slips between you, his thumb finding your sensitive clit. He circles it with just the right amount of pressure, matching the rhythm of his hips. Your vision blurs as you tumble over the edge.  

“I can feel you,” he moans, his voice nearly a whimper. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”  

Your only response is a gasp, your head tilting back as you surrender to the pleasure. His lips trail down your throat, sucking and biting gently, leaving marks you know will linger.  

He moans, his rhythm faltering as your release triggers his own. His body tenses, a shudder running through him as he buries himself deep, his cum spilling into you. Hyunjin’s face nestled in your neck as he says your name and comes apart in your arms.

Both of you lay tangled together, your breaths mingling, your bodies slick with sweat. Hyunjin lifted his head slowly, brushing damp strands of hair from your face as he looked down at you. His thumb traced the curve of your lips, his gaze soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name.  

“You’re incredible,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.  

“So are you,” you whispered, your hands sliding up to cup his face. You kissed him softly, languidly, savoring the moment.  

When he finally pulled away, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as your breaths evened out. “I think I’ll have no trouble writing now,” he said, a small, sheepish smile tugging at his lips.  

You laughed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “I’d say we got into character pretty well.”  

Hyunjin chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over your skin as he lay next to you. “You know, I think I have a few other scenes I could work on…” His words trailed off as you suddenly pushed him off the couch.  

“And be late for Chan's party? Never.” You teased, raising an eyebrow.  

“What a witch,” he laughed, his eyes warm with affection as he got up and went to the bathroom.  

You watched him walk away, trying to ignore how your heart raced. For now, you pretended it was just a fleeting feeling, hoping—really hoping—that there would be more scenes to recreate.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

Copyright © 2025 by Writerastray.

[bitchface24-7]

I love the name combos- We got Honey and Sugar PLUS Sugar and Spice! My FBI agent has to know about my growing hunky Latino men addiction. My tiktok is feeding me Jayce content with “Beso Al Aire” and it's making my latina heart do fucking backflips.

Do you think we could get a DILF!Jayce with a reader who takes care of his kid and homelife while he's working. They know he’s a busy man so they guarantee him that his kid tucked in sound asleep, the house is clean, and a warm plate of food is waiting for him.

I so desperately need to talk to someone to feed my growing Jayce obsession.

DADDY’S HOME - JAYCE X READER

synopsis: you're the babysitter to a incredibly cute little girl, Isabella. Her dad unfortunately has a very busy job and is constantly out of the house (against his will, of course) so you take care of her for him. You take care of him too. Who wouldn’t want to care for Jayce Talis?

warnings: age gap (early 40’s Jayce, mid-20s reader), oc daughter, teasing, flirting, risky sex (like hello there's a kid in the house), quiet sex

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. Older dilf Jayce save me. Please older dilf Jayce 🙏🙏

Isabella Talis is the cutest little girl you've ever seen. She's damn near a carbon-copy of her dad. Big brown eyes, bouncy black hair, sun-kissed skin, and big 'ol dimples when she smiles.

You've been babysitting her for a while now, about a decade now. You got the job when you were fifteen, now you're twenty-five. You started babysitting Bella when she was three, now she's thirteen. Honestly, she makes you feel old.

Especially since so many people assume you're her parent.

Going grocery shopping with her, going out to eat, having girl's days together, going to school events and celebrations; you can see where people are coming from.

Especially since Bella listens to you without hesitation. She only calls you by your name or nickname, but that doesn't matter. You're her parent in all the ways that matter.

Isabella's mom wasn't ready. She didn't want to be a mom, you can't blame her. Jayce was in his late-twenties to early thirties when Bella was born, her mom was a few years younger than Jayce. So Jayce became her single-dad with Grandma Ximena helping care of her.

So, you’ve gotten quite used to caring for young Isabella Talis.

You’ve also gotten used to caring for her dad, Jayce Talis.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayce Talis is a very well known man. A co-creator of Hextech, a councillor of Piltover, constantly working. Poor thing is exhausted.

So you ensure he’s taken care of.

You clean the house, you make hot meals for him, you even meal prep for him.

He can’t tell you how grateful he is for that.

But he shows it in his actions.

He ensures you’re also cared for, he pays you well for your work (even though you try to deny it every time. He insists), he gets you gifts that you’ll appreciate for life, he’s even physically affectionate.

Sometimes you think it’s wrong, but you don’t care.

A kiss to your cheek, your neck, his beard tickling your skin, his hands on your waist, your hips, long loving hugs. Hands playing with your hair, hands massaging your neck.

God, you feel like you’re in the foreplay section of a porn video.

“Babysitter gets ruined by Older Hot Boss. 35:12”

You’ve always found Jayce attractive, you obviously didn’t act on it since you were underage. It was wrong, taboo. Now, you’re an adult.

Having your fantasies isn’t wrong, it isn’t against the law.

But you’re quite certain Jayce feels the same way. You remember the last time you were cooking for Jayce after he came home, Isabella already sleeping in her room.

You remember Jayce pining you essentially to the stove top as you stirred the boiling pasta. Kissing the nape of your neck as he slowly ground his hips into your ass. You felt how needy he was, and you let him continue.

Poor thing is pent up, and you did promise yourself you’d do anything to help him out.

It also helped it made you feel good too.

You two didn’t talk about it when eating dinner together, but your heated gazes said more than any words could.

Turns out the fantasies you’ve had since you were a student at the academy may actually come true.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You have to be quite. No if’s, ands, or buts. Isabella is sleeping just down the hall, and you don’t want to traumatize her having her hear you two have sex.

So you cover your mouth desperately as Jayce pounds into you. Thank god the bed doesn’t squeak.

The two of you angle yourselves so your skin doesn’t slap together. You don’t want her to hear anything. You know how awkward and traumatic it is to hear your parents have sex and you don’t want Bella to go through that.

But damn does Jayce fuck like a sex god.

His salt and pepper hair falling into his face, his mouth curled into a sneer as he holds back his moans, his hips punishing.

Your eyes water at the overwhelming pleasure. You rip your hand away from your mouth and desperately kiss Jayce. His hips stutter a bit before picking up speed, the two of you whining into each other’s mouth.

A desperate grip causes Jayce’s back to get red lines. The cuts lightly bleeding as you cum around his cock. The fluttering of your hole cause Jayce’s eyes to roll the back of his head as he cums inside you.

The two of you pant as you kiss, Jayce essentially falling on top of you. You grunt due to the weight but don’t complain, he’s the perfect weighted blanket. You caress his face, his beard surprisingly soft.

“We probably shouldn’t have done that.” Jayce states quietly, your hand pauses for a moment, “Probably. But I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I. Stay the night? I don’t feel comfortable having you leave so late at night.”

You smile sweetly at Jayce, he’s always cared for you the entire time he’s known you. What a sweetheart.

“Of course.”

Jayce smiles, the crows feet near his eyes deepening as his pearly whites beam at you, the little gap between his front teeth make you want to coo, “Isabella is gonna freak out knowing you slept over and it wasn’t with her for once.”

You lightly laugh as you slap Jayce’s back, he laughs too.

“You’re such a shit disturber.”

“You have no proof.”

Yeah… your fifteen year old self would be screaming and fainting right about now. Your inner teen is immensely satisfied.

As are you as a twenty-five year old.

Dilf Jayce 😩😩 he 100% gives girl dad

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

T-Shirt Monthly Subscription Box

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The pictures with this listing is just examples of the the Humor T-Shirt Subscription.

Each month you will receive a brand new never before seen, one of a kind designed t-shirt by Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations. As a T-Shirt Club Member, receive exclusive access to our new designed merchandise and special discounts.

How does Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations T-Shirt Subscription Work?

Each month you will receive a brand new never before seen designed t-shirt for $15.99 for adult small to XL, $18.99 for 2XLarge, 3XLarge $21.99 plus shipping. Sign up by the last day of any month and your first t-shirt will ship by the 7th of following month.

Modify or cancel your subscription at any time, no hard feelings, we’re here if you need assistance, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. To cancel your subscription, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations are very flexible, we offer the ability to skip a month rather than canceling your membership, just email us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com. If any changes need to be made, please make the changes 7 days prior to the 1st of the month.

Shipping: We can ship to you or a loved one. To make any changes to your shipping request, the change(s) would need to be made 7 days prior to the 1st of the month.

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Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

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#grannygrandpascustomcreations - #t-shirt - #T-Shirtsubscription - #subscriptionbox

There is never a dull moment with Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations T-Shirt Monthly Subscription Box! Everyone loves a good t-shirt! Whether to lounge around the house, go on a date, run errands, or deliver a message.

The pictures with this listing is just examples of the the Humor T-Shirt Subscription.

Each month you will receive a brand new never before seen, one of a kind designed t-shirt by Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations. As a T-Shirt Club Member, receive exclusive access to our new designed merchandise and special discounts.

How does Granny and Grandpa’s Custom Creations T-Shirt Subscription Work?

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[thiarastore]

Thiara Supermarket - Indian Grocery Store in Burlington

Thiara Supermarket is your one-stop Indian grocery store in Burlington, offering a wide range of authentic Indian and Pakistani groceries. We specialize in fresh produce, essential spices, and hard-to-find South Asian ingredients. Shop with us for Navratri special items, pooja products, and other cultural essentials to celebrate festivals and traditions. Thiara Supermarket brings the flavors and products of India and Pakistan to your neighborhood, making every meal and celebration authentic and memorable.

[muzansfangs]

How would Gin, Shinji and Jugram react when they get it in the the wrong hole while have sex and their s/o start crying in pain

They get in the wrong hole during sex.

Starring: Shinji Hirako x f!reader; Gin Ichimaru x f!reader; Haschwalth Jugram x f!reader; mention to Rangiku Matsumoto, Hinamori Momo, Kira Izuru, Bambietta Basterbine, Candace Catnipp, Bazz-B, Robert Accutrone, Yhawach;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, accidental anal sex, remorse, aftercare, slight hints to degradation kink, dirty talk, spanking, mirror sex, hair pulling, crying during sex, dacryphilia;

Plot: In the heat of the moment, amidst goofy and tragicomic accidents that could occur during passionate sex, you end up experiencing one of the worst. How will your boyfriend deal with the situation? Is it going to kill the mood?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Shinji Hirako.

When your boyfriend swung the front door of your flat open, barging into your apartment with a large luggage and shit-eating grin, you knew exactly what was going to happen. An eventful night, without the shadow of a doubt. At first, you just stared at him doumbfounded, eyes travelling up and down his frame, surprised to see he was not wearing his Captain’s haori and the shihakusho you loved oh so much. You had not been able to see him in a month, since he had taken back his former position as the Captain of the Fifth Division.

You knew it was going to be hard, but there was no difficulty you could not deal with, as long as you were together. And your relationship persisted.

“Well? Are ya just gonna sit there and ogle me? Doll, that’s not the way I expected ya to welcome me back! C’mon, bring that ass over here” Shinji sassily commenced, kicking the door closed with a foot and opening his arms to invite you to jump on him.

You dashed towards him instantly, glorious smile of victory over your face as you buried your face into his chest “You stupid jackass, I missed you like crazy!” you exclaimed, as he wrapped his arms around you and swept you off of your feet. You giggled, kicking your feet in the air, as he marched towards your bedroom without further ado. After all, he was still a man drunk on your love. Even if disrobing you right away might have resulted overly materialistic and egoistical, you had been dying to be touched too.

It was a romantic reunion, no matter what any bigoted stranger could think of it.

You were turned on, when he began to undress you, mouth devouring yours passionately, devotly, as you reached your hand out to switch the lights on. Shinji thought the darkness spiced things up even more, though, and he swatted your hand away.

“Roll over” he eventually chimed, quick to unbuckle his belt, or this is what you assumed he was doing for the metallic sound of his belt clinking.

Maybe, choosing such a position in a room scarcely illuminated by the streetlamps and neon lights of the shops outside was not exactly a brilliant idea. Centuries of fornicating around, however, had apparently helped your boyfriend to find the right hole even without the help of his sight. Or, at first, that was what you thought. Sheathed deep into you, Shinji held you down by gripping the back of your neck. The feeling of him filling you up repeatedly was ever so satisfying.

“Dear Gosh, don’t stop! Not even if I pass out!” you dramatically said, back arching up as his pelvis smacked against the back of your thighs roughly.

“My nymphomaniac vixen! You missed that cock, didn’t ya? I’m no where near to be done with ya” your menace of a boyfriend drawled out, wanton in his voice, cock twitching into you as he pulled out to readjust his position behind you. Those were moments before the disaster.

You whined for the lack of contact, shifting on your knees subconsciously to search again for the warmth of his body “Hurry up, Shinji! I need you back”.

“Have some patience, babe, I’m right here! You’re horny as fuck tonight” he replied, going straight for the kill and pushing the head of his cock back into your entrance. But the wrong entrance.

Dread washing over you, the stinging sensation in the most private part of your body, sensitive, now bruised, caused tears to overflow from your eyes. A small screech left your lips, throat burning as Shinji panicked and immediately pulled back.

“Holy cow, forgive me! Babe, are ya okay? Does it hurt? I’m so, so sorry, it’s my fault! The damn lights, I should have switched them up!” he profusely apologized, jumping back on his feet and finally allowing the lights to illuminate the bedroom. You collapsed on your side, curled up in a ball and taking sharp intakes of breaths.

Shinji rushed back to you, peppering your cheeks with kisses, hoping to calm you down “It’s okay… It happens, don’t worry”.

Your boyfriend was glad you had forgiven him, but the resoult was an immediate cockblock effect on him. He grew soft, as he slumped down next to you “I think we better rest tonight, love. I’ve taken two weeks off to stay with ya” he stated, defeated, still shocked by the accident.

You scooted closer to him, nose brushing against his one “Promise?”.

“Promise”.

Gin Ichimaru.

The barracks of the Third Division were terrifyingly empty, ghostly. When the Captain of the Eight Division threw a party, everyone attended it. No one turned down the opportunity to chug some high quality saké for free. No one besides you and your shrewd boyfriend, as well as the Captain of the Third Division. Working hours did not leave you the chance to spend some quality time together. The absence of new recruits and officers continously requiring either his, or your assistance was a manna from Heaven.

Now, in the privacy of his office, you were showing off your new uniform to a randy Gin. After years of him pleading you to purchase a skirt, you had given up and there you were, proudly twirling around to whet his appetite for your flesh. It did not take a lot for him to nimbly haul you over his shoulder and head straight to his desk. His bony hands shamelessly groped your ass through the thin fabric, visualizing your globes and the way he was going to smack them, while nestled deep into you.

“Damn, I really did not need another distraction at work… — Gin chimed, carefully letting your feet touch the floor, your face’s destination the smooth mahogany surface at your back, as you diligently turned around to slump over it with your torso — But don’t you dare wear those shitty pants again, sweetie” he warned you, provocative timbre sending frissons down your spine.

You clicked your tongue, propping yourself up on your elbows “And what about my panties? Should I wear them outside your office?” you instigated him to slide his slender digits past your folds in one smooth motion.

Gin hummed, pumping his fingers into you painfully slowly, savouring the lewd faces you were making through your reflection on the window. He was done playing nice. The prominent tent in his hakama indicated it was time to replace his fingers with his throbbing cock. It was only a matter of seconds, before you let out a strained whine and banged your fist over the desk, right beside your head, the stretch of his length penetrating you making it hard to breath.

“Shit! Gin— Oh!” you seethed, perching your ass up against his navel out of the reflex aroused from your boyfriend’s ministrations.

He leaned over you, his whole body draped over your back, mouth brushing agaisnt your earlobe “Only after I’ve shot my load up this irreverent pussy! I mean, they’re going to love seeing you all sticky, messy, cum running down the insides of your thighs… Fuck, would you like that? Do you want to waltz around the Soul Society leaking like a sieve?” he hissed, hot breath fanning your jawline as he thrusted into you with a hard and steady tempo making your velvety walls clamping around his cock.

You squealed out, overstimulated, his dirty talk reducing you to a flustered girl dealing with her first crush. Moans and guttural grunts echoed in the room, sweaty bodies and sinful remarks falling from both of your lips, until he grabbed a fist full of your hair and tugged you back towards him.

“Brace yourself, honey. I wanna see your face, when I shoot—” he rasped out, cock slipping out of your cunt accidentally.

He was about to slide in again, but a familiar voice coming from the outside of the door made him flinch and push you back down on the desk, hand over your mouth to muffle your frantic pants.

“Captain Ichimaru, I’m the Lieutenant of the Fifth Division! Are you awake?” Hinamori called out, not even daring to knock on the door.

The disgusting sound of someone puking shortly after followed her question and she gasped, clearly worried “Nevermind! I wanted to tell you Lieutenant Kira got drunk! Rangiku challenged him to a drinking game and I thought to accompany him back to his dorm! Goodnight!” she piped out, the sounds of footsteps fading away reassuring him enough to loll his head back and push himself back into you without double checking his actions.

The strangling constriction around his member was different. Weirdly so. Then, you screamed. A sob shook your form, body shaking uncontrollably, as Gin lowered his gaze and realized what had happened. You cried out in pain, mouth gaping in a struggle to endure the sudden intrusion and formulate coherent walls of protest. Gin’s eyes widened in shock, but the sight of some tears in your splendid eyes and the grip on his cock made him burst.

He groaned, the moment he spurted right into you. A white ring forming at the entrance of your puckered hole somehow electrifying him, but he was quick to pull out of you. Your body finally relaxed, breath labored as you glanced at him from above your shoulder in total bewilderment.

“Believe me, it was not intentional” Gin apologized hoarsely, hands slithering down the length of your back to provide you some comfort.

You hummed, eyes closing in exhaustion “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just… It’s no good crying over spilt milk”.

He kissed your cheek, nuzzling his face on the jucture of your neck “If I give you cookies and make you cum too, will you consider forgiving this poor man who was defeated by a sexy hole?”.

You could not help yourself but chuckle “Gin, please, stop!”.

“It was a matter of time anyway! You know, it always kept blinking up at me, while I fucked you like that!”.

“Stop!” you lamented, playfully slapping his forearm.

In the end, he kept his promise and granted you a mindblowing orgasm and some delicious cookies.

Haschwalth Jugram.

Abstinence and the unmanageable preparations for the incoming war had taken a toll on you. Your fiancé was beyond exhausted, yet he was exceptionally good at showcasing a completely different set of emotions than the ones he was dealing with in front of the others: professionalism, determination, authority and inflexibility left no room for tiredness and prostration. He barked orders around, keeping your comrades in line for the sake of your King. You knew him better than anyone else and you actually believed him when he said he was ready for this. However, it was exactly because you knew him that you sensed he was just as nervous and overwhelmed as you were. He was an atomic bomb about to explode.

Now, it had been another ordinary and chaotic day at the Palace. You were supposed to spend the night with Bambietta and Candace, when you heard a commotion resonating in the corridor. The source of the upheaval came directly from the training room. Curiosity killed the cat and you decided to sneak in and peek from behind the wall. Upon analyzing the situation, you realized a lot of people were gathering around two men. You were not surprised Bazz-B was picking up a fight, but you had to admit you had not expected his counterpart to be the ever so composed Robert Accutrone. It was hard figuring out what had caused the two Sternritters to throw hands, but you were displeased to assess no one was going to stop them.

No one besides your boyfriend.

The sound of his cape fluttering and the metallic sound of his sword being unsheathed from its scabbard made you flinch. Iciness in his eyes, he stepped between the two men and immediately pacified them without uttering a single word. He squarely gazed at Bazz-B, his jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the hilt of his sword as the other scoffed and dashed out of the room, followed by some lower ranks supporting him. Robert merely bowed his head, eyes downcast, as he backed off.

“I am consternated” he curtly apologized, before leaving the room silently, index fixing his glasses over the bridge of his nose, probably out if habit rather than necessity.

The atmosphere in the training grounds was still thick, though. Some young recruits resumed their training sessions, while the rest of them began to gossip about what had just happened. When you saw Haschwalth sheathing back his sword, you decided to reveal yourself and hesitantly stepped into the room with a compassionate gleam in your eyes. Your boyfriend did not move an inch from where he was standing, always so descreet in the presence of your comrades, but you could tell he was beginning to feel tired of his role.

You approached him cautiously, hand reaching up to trace a path going from his forearm to his hand, still resting over the shiny hilt of his blade. The Sternitter Grandmaster inahled sharply, before suddenly enveloping your wrist in a bonebreaking grip stealing a low wince from your parted lips. This was new.

“Use it”.

A command. An order from the man you loved and your superior. You knew what it meant, though. Haschwalth was evidently fed up and in a desperate need to quell his wrath, to take his rage out somehow.

You gladly obliged his request, eyes closing as you snapped your fingers and a pool of pink light engulfed you two. You could have just walked straight out of that place to reach your destination. If Haschwalth Jugram had specifically asked you to resort to your power, he was decidedly about to make the entire Palace blow. What happened in your bedroom did not stupify you. The moment you reappeared in the privacy of your shared room, your boyfriend did not waste any precious time in superfluous compliments: he shoved you against the wall behind your back. The impact made you whimper out, but your huffs and puffs were swallowed by his mouth devouring yours to savor your taste.

You had missed the intimacy between you two. His hands popped the buttons of your uniform open, eager to finally claim your flesh after weeks of barely indulging into short make out sessions in the shadows. Opening his coat, he hastily unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, leaving you with the task of disrobing yourself before his stunning blue eyes.

“Turn around” he breathed out, hand already wrapped around his hardening cock, pumping his shaft a few times to make sure he was straight as a ramrod.

Once all of you clothes were scattered on the floor, you twirled around and planted your hands over the wall in front of you. Haschwalth slapped your rear, quick to bend you over a little more for him to angle you in a better position. Your moan, strained, wantoned, echoed in the bedroom and the man standing behind you pressed his tip to your glistening entrance.

“I apologize for the lack of foreplay” he stated, cock slipping carefully into your warm channel, body going taut in the effort of controlling himself.

The burning sensation soon dissipated, your forehead pressed against the wall to help you concentrate and relax your muscles. The stretch was immensely satisfying, but this time you felt a tad more excited. There was raw desire behind his actions. His fingertips were pressing onto the plush of your hips enough to leave crescent marks over the skin, pressing down until he could feel the sharp hipbone beneath the pads of his digits.

“You should apologize for not having slammed me against the wall sooner” you heaved out, nails scraping the polished grey bricks underneath your palms, your boyfriend groaned out with the way you shifted around to squeeze him up better.

Your fiancé lolled his head back, golden eyelashes fluttering and casting curvaceous shadows over his cheekbones, as he pulled out slowly only to thrust back into you forcefully. Your whimpers and breathy moans filled the air, your minds freed from the sense of disquietude cascading on you two those past few weeks. He let it out on you, heedless of the slight pain you were enduring, his movements frantic and desperate, eyebrows knitted even if not in concentration to please you. He had chosen to be selfish this time. It was not like he had any other feasible option to consider. The choice was between massacring his underlings, or riling you to oblivion.

Naturally, he knew he could go a little too far with you in some peculiar occasions like the current one. His onslaught on your body was authentically brutal and your cries were starting to sound high-pitched, strained. Among the moans, the unmistakable sound of skin against skin and his lust for you, Haschwalth never really rested. Upon sensing your King was awakening, he tensed and remembered he should have been ready to receive his new orders. He decided to speed up the pace, cock accidentally slipping out of your dripping cunt, and painfully invading your puckered hole.

You choked out a wince, eyes rounded in shock as he groaned for the sudden tight grip of your muscles around his member. Yet, he was quick to pull out and let you go, somehow horrified by what had just happened. You were a panting, weeping mess, as you slumped down on a nearby leather pouf, hands shaking for the adrenaline and surprise.

“I hurt you, didn’t I? — Haschwalth was the first to talk, eyes scrutinizing your face to decipher your thoughts on the matter — I’m mortified. It wasn’t my intention” he explained, only for you to raise your hand and stop him from apologizing further.

“It was an accident. I just need a few minutes to recover” you sighed, eyes flicking up to meet his ones reassuringly.

Your fiancé pinched the bridge of his nose, luscious blond hair draped over his visage “I think Yhwach is looking for me. I lost control because I felt him calling for me”.

You nodded your head, knowing damn well he had to drop whatever he was doing to assist the King. You stood up and walked up to him, hands reaching down to buckle back up his belt “Hey, it’s fine. I promise we can continue later on. Now, don’t let him wait, or he’s going to let you know what a pain in the ass is” you jested, only for your ever so serious man to huff and bend down to plant a small kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t think I want to find out” he muttered lowly, fingers threading your hair as you smiled brightly up at him.

“Definitely”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! The poeople have spoken and I am glad to serve! I missed writing this format and I stumbled across this request in my inbox. Christmas is going to be chaotic and my time to write is diminishing drastically. I will therefore have some posts scheduled to feed y’all. Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Love,

– Luce

TAGS: tagging some of my lovely mutuals because I love to feed your fantasies @dehemetera @electronicwitchcollection @bankaizen @noirfan12 @suigetsusunny @my-my-my @velaenaa @villainsrtasty @brittscafe @akashis-waifu @sashi-ya @jesurum-says-hi @j-u-u-z-o @naru-mi-gen

[friendlyneighborhoodslut]

The Roommate Agreement | 1-The Line.

Pairing(s)/Tropes—Eventual Steve Harrington x Reader, slowburn/friends to lovers.

Summary— Your first day at college is a disaster, but luckily your big brother lives right down the road… with some very interesting roommates.

Warnings/Extras—Strong language, mentions of bad parenting, cockroaches/bugs, psycho roommate (we’ve all had one), drinking, college dorms deserve their own TW, Steve and Eddie being slight pervs. MDNI, 18+! Let me know if I missed anything!

MASTERLIST | | NEXT PART

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

“Who the hell drinks pumpkin spice in August? It’s 85 degrees outside.” Daizy states her opinion loudly, catching the scowl of a the poor girl minding her business and drinking her latte on a bench. I snort, rearranging my grip on the box labeled Books.

“You’re just a ray of sunshine today, aren’t you?” I tease her as we climb the Dormitory steps.

“I just can’t believe you’re leaving me for some stuffy college in Chicago,” she complains.

“I can’t believe you’re not coming with me,” I retort. We slip past a couple making out in the hallway. Daizy makes a face at them before catching up with me.

“This place is well above my tax bracket,” she tells me. I count down the door numbers until we reach our destination. Room 203B. I kick the slightly ajar door with my foot, the waft of fresh paint and stale air hitting me.

My roommate has beaten me here, marking her territory by setting off an apparent bomb in the room. Foul smelling clothes are strung about, boxes sit in groups everywhere, including both beds. She’s got messy black hair and a general unpleasant disposition to her, staring at me as I walk in.

“Um, hi. I’m your roommate. You must be Hailey?” I readjust the box to shake her hand but she ignores it, returning to a box on her chosen bed. I wade through the landfill that was once our room. I try to set the box down without disturbing any of Hailey’s things, but Daizy makes a show of sweeping all the items off my bed with her arm. A waterfall of junk falls to the ground loudly. Hailey’s head turns to quick I think she’s snapped her neck.

“HEY!”

“Ever heard of manners, Halsey?” Daizy scolds.

“It’s Hailey,”

“Whatever.”

“Dude!” I whisper-yell to my best friend. The last thing I need is to get off on the wrong foot with my roommate and have to endure her wrath the entire semester. Honestly, I can’t help but be disappointed; my faith in the college’s random roommate assignment program completely shattered.

Their silent standoff awkwardly disperses, leaving a thick blanket of tension in its place. I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe and my clothes feel too tight. I squeeze my left hand in my right, tugging on my fingers one-by-one anxiously. Daizy glances down at my hands and sighs, “Alright. Let’s get all your stuff up here and call your brother.”

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

I’m buzzing with a concoction of anticipation and excitement as I sit in the cafe, my oat milk latte long forgotten. Staring out the glass front of the shop, I perk up a little at every man with dark hair that passes by. Daizy occasionally laughs at me, reminding me it’s only been two years since I’ve seen my older brother, not a lifetime.

It feels like a lifetime.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t chose this college because Benjamin had chosen it. Well, he played a great factor in it at least. Whilst I had Daizy and am forever grateful for her, Ben had practically raised me and his absence left a palpable hole in my life. I didn’t blame him for leaving; a prestigious school in Chicago and an excuse to leave our parents in the dust would bend the strongest wills. I was simply collateral damage, and I endured two years of torture at the hand of our parents until I graduated high school.

Besides, getting into The University of Chicago was damn near one of the highest honors someone in our family could receive. With a 7% acceptance rate, I felt like I’d received a letter from Hogwarts when my acceptance came in the mail. It was probably the only time I’d ever seen my parents proud of me, despite my 4.0 GPA and several letters from different sports. “Your brother was Valedictorian with a 5.0 in Honors,” they’d tell me. Yeah, well, fuck Honors.

“I drove 16 hours from Houston to see this asshole, he better show,” Daizy says affirmatively, and I imagine what she’d do to Ben if he ditched. Wring him out like a rag, probably. I cock a brow at her and she rolls her eyes. “And to be with you, of course.”

“Thank you again for driving me,” I smile. Daizy drives like she’s got 10 lives, but given that the alternative was to ask one of my parents to drive, I was more than happy to risk my life on a cross-country journey with her.

She grins, flipping her insanely long black and purple hair over her shoulder before reaching across the table to grab my hand. She squeezes it reassuringly.

The French doors of the Cafe swing open, prompting the dainty ring of a brass bell hung from the ceiling. Both of our heads snap in that direction, my brother standing with his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans.

I stare at him, gobsmacked, until he opens his arms.

“No warm hello for your big brother?” He laughs. I stand abruptly, running across the room to him. I jump into him with a thump, and he lets out an oomph on impact. I hug him tightly, and suddenly I’m that annoying little kid who’d follow him around everywhere again. He squeezes me tightly as we rock side to side a bit.

“Holy shit, you look old! College has aged you,” I tell him when I finally let go.

He shoves my shoulder. “Still a Shithead, I see,”

I pretend like it hurt, but he’s not looking at me anymore. He’s looking over my head, jaw hung slack ever so slightly.

“BEN!” Daizy says, way too enthusiastically, jogging to him. I’m suddenly very awkwardly in the way as they embrace each other and he plants a kiss on her cheek.

Ugh, gross. They’ve been obviously in love with each other since we were kids, but God forbid either of them admit it. The closest they’ve ever gotten was a New Years kiss at a sweaty high school party, but they never mentioned it after that night. I’m not opposed to the idea of them together, only apprehensive; because in the event they’d split, I’d have to chose one over the other. The idea alone makes my stomach churn.

“It’s been so long!” Daizy pulls away form him barely, still gripping onto his shoulders.

“Are you in town a while? You should come by the apartment. We live just down the road,” Benjamin starts.

“We?” I echo.

He shrugs. “My roommates and I,”

“You didn’t tell us you had roommates,” Daizy adds inquisitively.

My brother nods. “Used to be four of us, now there’s three. Some guys I met in school,”

“An apartment filled with college boys, what’s the worst that could happen?” I joke.

“We function quite well. Thank you very much,” my brother dismisses as his phone starts ringing. He digs into his pocket, face falling as he swipes the screen. “Hey, what’s up?” There’s muffled words on the other end. “He did what? Jesus Christ. Yeah. Let me run by the bank, I’ll be there.” He hangs up, rubbing his face.

“What’s wrong?” I query.

“It’s my friend Eddie. Got himself into trouble, again. I gotta go. Call me later, yeah?” He says hurriedly, leaning forward to kiss the side of my head and hug me. Then he’s gone, just as swift as he’d arrived, and for a moment I question if he was ever here at all.

I scrunch my nose up, trying not to feel bitter. My fantasy of catching up with my brother just that, a fantasy, I relent and decide it’s time to face my creepy roommate.

It’s just one year, right?

Grabbing Daizy’s hand, I tug her out the doors and into the busy streets of Chicago.

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

The unfortunate part about August is that, while beautiful, it’s hot as fuck. Not quite as ‘I’m going to melt alive’ hot as July, but enough that the lack of air conditioning in the Dorms has me wanting to peel my skin off for a semblance of relief. I toss and turn in the night, sleep evading me. I’m sticky with sweat and my chest heaves against the stuffy air. Giving in, I lay on my back and stare up at the ceiling.

I sit there, in the darkness, questioning every choice that lead up to this point, when my legs begin to tickle and itch.

Fantastic, I’ve got heat rash. I lean down to scratch at my legs like a wild animal, but stop when my nails brush against something soft and smooth.

Something crawls up my leg.

I squint against the darkness, the faint glow from the streetlight outside reflecting through the blinds. A cylindrical bug, about the size a quarter, scurries against my sheet.

A cockroach. There’s a fucking cockroach in my bed.

I scream, kicking my blankets off and scrambling to turn on my bedside lamp. A face—shrouded by darkness before—meets mine at the edge of the bed, just inches away. Hailey grins down at me. I scream again, petrified, and tumble out of bed.

“JESUS CHRIST! THERE’S BUGS IN THE ROOM!” I cry, running my hands over myself to check for more.

“I know,” Hailey smiles.

I stop dead in my tracks. “Did you… did you put fucking roaches in my bed?!”

She tilts her head to the side.

I think I saw this in a movie once. She’s going to skin me alive and wear me as a hat.

“Psychopath. God!” I exasperate, snatching my phone off the nightstand. “I’ll see you on the 5’o clock news for murder.” I murmur but I don’t think she hears me. She watches me leave, that uncanny grin never leaving her lips. I shiver to shake the sickening feeling she leaves me with.

It doesn’t settle in just how screwed I am until my bare feet hit the pavement. A cascade of rain trickles down my face and soaks my hair. I roll my eyes and groan. Of course. This is just perfect. Murderer roommate, bugs, and now rain.

I clutch my phone tight in my hand. I contemplate calling Daizy, but I feel I’ve asked her for enough favors recently. Defeated, I sigh and click on my brother’s name.

The last thing in our text thread is his address, with the message: sorry to run out like that. Stop by sometime. I click on it, pleasantly surprised by the 8 minute walk icon. Peering up at the black, starless sky, raindrops getting in my eyes, I sigh heavily and begin my barefooted decent to my brother’s apartment.

It’s 1:04 AM when I reach the red brick building. I double check the address and triple check the apartment number before knocking on the bright blue door. Aggressively, unwavering. At some point knocks turn into open-palmed pounds as I’m desperate to awaken my big brother.

The door flies open. Ben stands in the doorway, beer in hand and eyes hooded.

“There’s cockroaches in my dorm, it’s the temperature of Hell and I’m pretty sure my roommate is the Jeffery Dahmer reincarnate,” I blurt out, tears stinging eyes.

He blinks. “Normal people start with ‘hi’.”

I frown and he shrugs, opening the door the rest of the way and gesturing for me to come inside. I oblige, turning back around to face him.

“Bugs, Ben. She put bugs in my bed. You know how I am about things with too many legs—“

“—Nothing should have more than four legs, it’s excessive and creepy,” he mimicks me. “Yes, yes. I know. The legs,” he shakes his hands and raises his voice, pretending to be a girl, which he’s terrible at. I make an annoyed sound.

“She was staring at me, while I was sleeping. Like she wanted to—“

Someone clears their throat.

I spin around, hair whipping me in the face. My heart drops into my ass as I lock eyes with two boys sitting on the weathered leather couch. One with long, unruly black curls; covered in tattoos and plucking at a guitar. And the other, all puppy dog eyes and sandy hair, sipping on a beer.

“Hello there,” the one with dark hair chuckles, grabbing his own beer to slyly take a swig of his PBR can.

“Eddie, don’t start. Your stupid ass is still grounded for getting yourself thrown in jail,” Ben groans, stepping between us.

I’m suddenly feeling very self conscious in my sleep shorts and t shirt, not much left to the imagination. I wrap my arms around myself, a useless gesture.

“That guy was asking for it,” Eddie defends.

The guy next to Eddie on the small couch is silent, arm stretched over the back and staring at me. I sweat, unable to peel my eyes away from his. He’s beautiful, to put it simply. Sun-kissed skin against dark eyes and brown hair that frames his sharp features.

“Hey, man. Didn’t your mom ever teach you that starin’s rude?” Eddie scolds jokingly, covering the other’s eyes. “How come you don’t ever look at me like that, huh Stevie boy?” he cackles, and I realize he may be drunk, as he grips Steve’s face and plants a loud kiss to his cheek.

Steve recoils, pushing his friend away. “Gross, get off me dude,” they take turns shoving each other.

“Alright, you delinquents. That’s enough,” Ben speaks to them like a disappointed parent, ripping the blanket off the back of the couch and handing it to me. I take it graciously, wrapping it around myself. “This is my baby sister Y/N. She’s off limits, that’s a line you don’t cross, ever. She’ll sleep in my room tonight though, since you two can’t be trusted,” he inserts himself into the space between me and the sofa, drawing a metaphorical ‘line in the sand’ mid-air.

“The line,” he appoints theatrically. “Do. Not. Cross it.”

Steve nods. Eddie salutes drunkenly, his eyes nowhere near focused on Ben. I suppress a laugh.

Ben wraps his arm around my shoulders, spinning me around to walk down the hallway. “Now, why don’t you calmly tell me what happened?”

[sampoorna-food-products]

Sampoorna Food Products With Indian Spices Pictures

[threepandas]

Bad End, Hidden Heir: Part 2

Prev <-

A pounding headache and cave air, that's what I woke up too. The air was being choked, though, by familiar scents. All trying desperately to make the cold, wet, and softly echoing quiet, hospitable. It was nauseating in my current state. Weak and... drugged? Had I been drugged? I certainly hadn't been drunk.

So why did my head hurt so much?

Why did every motion, make my stomach want to rebel?

My limbs felt so WEAK. Heavy and useless. Barely budging when I try to lift them. To rub my head? Adjust the blanket? Sit up? I can't tell. Thinking... thinking is so hard past... the pounding in my head. The fog. I struggle to concentrate. God, that SMELL.

Like a perfume store combined with... with... ugh. Everything!

I could pick out individual scents I knew I liked, on their own, added to the nauseating chaos. My favorite potpourri was there. But so was the one I like for winter? Fall? That one I liked as a kid until I found Mrs. Tianna's blend...

And perfumes! Colognes! The clean products and scents I preferred the maids used. God it... it blended together like a trash heap. As though someone drove a carriage through a perfume shop at speed. Cloying and musk and spice and fruity and-!

I sucked air through my teeth, trying not to smell it, hoping to god I wouldn't TASTE it.

Finally I managed to pry my eyes open. Either hunger or thirst giving my the strength to push past the nauseating pain. I NEEDED to move. Find out what was happening. Survive.

My gaze... met the most elaborate embroidery I had ever seen. Tapestries had less art. Almost to the point of gaudiness. Possibly past it. It was...

It was everything I had ever said I liked.

Too anyone.

Puppies and flowers, history and art, books scenes and more. It kept GOING! Hideous and magnificent. Chaos. Unhinged. Flowing down from above me, along the rest of the curtains, for the canopy bed upon which I rest. So I would be surrounded by it all. Even the blanket... it was a sea of my favorite flowers, made eternal through string.

This wasn't something people just DID. Could just FIND. I could feel my panic under the muting pain and exhaustion. This was the work of YEARS. Obsessive, continuous, YEARS. Some of these threads cost more then certain house hold make in WEEKS! And for what? A secret canopy bed?!

I struggled, body barely able to obey me but trying desperately to assist. The blankets were heavy. The curtain around the bed equally so, thanks to all the embroidery. I.. I manage to roll. Squirm. Wriggle my way, undignified, to the edge. Flop over it and out from under the blanket. Too freedom.

The air is cold.

The scents WORSE out here. Now, I can see why.

It is a museum to all that I am. Every like carefully gathered in one place, every preference. Stacked and shoved together, with no regard for if they fit. Hoarded like a collection.

I can not even tell... if I am sitting, flopped down, on my favorite winter bedside carpet or just an exact copy. My entire life is shoved together and suddenly... suddenly I do not like any of these things at all. They feel dirty. Dangerous. Like they have betrayed me. I want to cry.

But I am nauseous. Hurting. Tired and thirsty. So very hungry dispite it all. I just... I just need to know what's going ON! This isn't... this isn't how the Game goes! Not for Protag-chan. Not for me! I know I changed my "character's" behavior... but...

I... I don't understand...

Try not to cry. It's... it's really hard.

I was right. I'm pretty sure this is the Caves of Spring in the northwest of the Duchy. The offical Heir has an estate near them. The stone looks like the cliffs I'd seen in passing.

Crawling is hard. My legs keep getting tangled in my fucking nightgown. My... my f.. favorite.. nightgown! I'm not gonna cry. Damn it. I'm NOT GONNA CRY. How dare he? How DARE he ruin even that? What did he DO to me!? When I was... was...

No, don't think about it!

Move.

A decanter. Needlessly pretty. I probably loved it as a girl, fresh into this world. Everything was so FANCY and I wasn't used to having money yet. Hadn't developed any real class or taste. It looks so fucking gaudy to me now. But God, it has water. Please... PLEASE let that be water!

I drag myself up on badly shaking limbs. Nothing wants to hold. Wrists buckling, knees giving, legs shaking like a new born lamb. My arms are so weak. But thirst... oh thirst is a powerful motivator.

I force myself to move.

The water is not enough. It is everything. Cold and perfect, I force myself to go slow. To not spill a single drop, as I collapse against the dresser it was placed upon. Letting my eyes explore my cage in the way my poor abused body can not.

There are thick bars buried deep into the bedrock, separating the "room" I'm in from the hall that leads away from it. And it IS a "room". Made in cruel mockery to resemble the luxury of the dukes estate. Perhaps even more aggressively decadent in certain aspects, though that isn't a good thing. It makes it border on a storage room, for how crowded with luxury it has become.

It is the reflection of an unwell mind.

And staring up at the portraits of myself I KNOW I never sat for? The countless sketches pinned up beyond the bars? I am in trouble. I... I should have run. Not sent Creep away. I should have been the one to run. Before it was too late.

I think... I think it might be too late.

Footsteps.

I want to escape. But where can I run? I am caged. I feel close and far away. My head hurts. My body hurts. Everything stinks and I am cold. Why? Why did you do this? The foot steps are calm and commanding. Even. They do not break stride.

I do not bother to watch my hunter approach me. The monster I can not escape.

I close my eyes to spare myself the pounding in my head. Drink more water.

He makes a softly dismayed sound, as though he was not the one to drug me, to leave me here. The door to my cage opens. Closes. Ah... such a heavy lock. Should I be flattered?

Crisp steps, the rustle of fabric.

"My lady, the floor is so dirty! You shouldn't be out of bed yet. I was just about to make you tea."

The AUDACITY.

Tea? TEA! Ha ha! After DRUGGING my tea? He actually expects me to accept a cup from him again?! He truely IS insane, isn't he?

I am scooped up without my consent, unable to so much a truely struggle. Placed gently on a plush chair, a tea table moved in front of me. A familiar cup. My favorite blend. Pretty little snacks laid out deftly on lovely little plates. I grit my teeth. Slowly tip my head up to glare.

He pauses when our eye meet... then shudders, some terrible look of pleasure dancing across his face.

"That's right... look at me~" he whispers, leaning entirely too close. "I'm all that you have now. So you'll HAVE too now! No more others. No more distractions. No more sending me away! People trying to get between us. Trying to take you away. I'm all that you need, My Lady. All you'll EVER need."

"Just look at ME, your loyal dog. And I'll take such good care of you. I promise~♡"