#the aroma of strawberries in the air

[ramonathinks]

ALL HE WANTS — EREN x BLK!READER

tags: 18+ (no minors/no blank blogs — you will be blocked), shotgunning, sex, kinda friends to lovers, established relationship (towards the end), oral (f!), making out, sexual tension, eren has a tongue piercing and dimples, fingering, dirty talk, reader is black, mutual pining, dry humping, unprotected sex, dubcon (both a little buzzed on weed),

notes: this is a repost ofc but... i wasn't about to miss daddy's birthday lolll. (1)(2) “continue reading” divider by @/anitalenia 4.1k words ! + repost!

“When you gonna stop playing and let me be your man, baby?” Eren had his hands in his pockets and lent up against the wall, staring you down. The way he talked always made your body shiver, the way he looked deep into your eyes made you want to moan.

“Just gimme the weed, please.” You rolled your eyes at him. He was always like this — teasing you whenever he saw you all dolled up; tonight you wore a short peach colored dress that made your chest look even bigger, and his eyes kept glancing down constantly from your lips to your chest.

He probably kept looking at your lips because of how plump and bright they were decorated with the clear sticky fruity smelling lipgloss you always wore. Your hair was done in a wavy black hair done in a 32inch half up-half down that framed your face pretty well; and Eren tried to act like he didn’t realize it wasn’t the hairstyle he picked for you a while back.

Unintentionally he licked his lips before digging through his pockets for what he came over to deliver. Normally he didn’t hand deliver anything, he made people come to him, but this was you.

Sweet smelling you who always looked as good as you smelt and right now there was an aroma around you that smelled of nothing but strawberries and some other fruity smell that he couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t even just the fact that you smelled so good but rather the way you looked so good too, always with your hair done even your nails — long coffin shaped, pink and white acrylic with little designs on them — and your face, bare or not your skin was always glistening rich brown.

He was always losing his focus when you were in the room. He handed you your weed and turned to leave. “Wait, here—”

He scoffed, “On the house.” He waved you off, he did this all the time, no matter how many times you begged him to just take the money.

“Eren!” Using his long legs to stroll out of the hallway and towards the apartment complex’s door. He almost made it out before he felt you tug at his arm, a deep pout on your face.

“You’ll get wrinkles. Don’t…” He caressed the area between your eyebrows and trailed down to your jaw — taking it in his hands and squeezing it, making your pout deeper before he let it go.

“Just here, okay? I’m grateful you don’t make me pay since we’re friends,” That definitely wasn’t the reason, but he didn’t say anything. “But just take it. I can pay, you know I can.” Your eyelids fluttered innocently.

He sniffled, “Fine. Fine. Just this once.” He flicked your nose. Then Eren looked at you, truly looked at you and smiled a bit. You were really too cute. “Are you coming to Connie’s party in a few?”

“Yeah, I was actually just getting ready before you came.” You tell him, finally letting go of his arm.

“And that’s what you’re wearing?” He swallowed, biting his tongue. He sounded so judgmental that your eyes widened before you looked down at yourself.

It was cold yes but you always chose being cute over being cold, plus you were always being driven around so you weren’t even outside enough to feel the freezing cold air and it was only a small bit of occasional snow, nothing too bad.

“What’s wrong with it?” You craned your neck a bit to see your backside. Everything was in tact and in place.

Jealousy was already deep in his chest and tugging at his heart, making everything feel so tight around him. He just shook his head, “Nothing, just thinkin’ bout how cold it is, that’s all. But I know you already have a ride lined up, right?”

Playfully rolling your eyes you smirk, “Actually…” Twiddling with your fingers, he watches you already knowing where this was going. “I was hoping, you’d take me if you had a chance? Maybe?”

“Do I ever say no to you?” He asked, walking back down the hall with you towards your apartment again.

This wasn’t his first time inside of your apartment. But for some reason he couldn’t help but to be in awe. You lived in luxury — marble countertops, a wide double door silver fridge, a patio… he knew he couldn’t compare to the lifestyle your father already had you in.

He wish he could... but he couldn’t. He made enough on selling whatever he could but it was only enough for him, not a lifestyle like yours. He wouldn’t be able to provide for you like you needed. Even if he got a real good job, nothing could truly live up to your norm and he would hate for you to settle.

It was the reason that he never truly could actively pursue you like he wanted with a good conscience. How could he pursue you when you had everything you wanted and then some?

Even the fuzzy pink rug on your floor looked like it was worth a couple thousand. A glossy painting of you hung in the center of your living room and it caught his eye, the last time he was inside it wasn’t there.

“Isn’t it nice? Looks almost as cute as the real thing, Hm?” You teasing, putting a finger to your cheek.

He gave you a side eye with a smile so deep enough that you could see his dimple and it made your heart flutter.

You always thought he was cute just not boyfriend material. You weren’t even being judgmental but you heard about Eren long before you had met him. Just a boy who always wanted to get his dick wet and especially when he had pretty clients, you couldn’t take him serious. Even if you wanted to.

When he wasn’t being a flirt, he was a good friend, always came when you needed him, even if it was just for a ride. He was always so sweet and treated you better than any of your boyfriends.

“You think I should just settle for some pants instead of this then, huh?” You did a slight twirl. You could tell he really liked what you had on but just not today. Not where y’all was headed.

He clicked his teeth with his tongue, “Uhh…” He looked you over, his gaze lingering on all assets.

His knee was bouncing and he was getting up before he realized. He never been inside of your room, let alone your closet. So this was all new territory to him, yet he felt like he knew where everything was.

He don’t know why he loved seeing you in your pink moon boots but he knew he wanted to see them on you tonight. He peaked over his shoulder, looking at you briefly before looking over your closet again. “Hm,” He held out two different shirts, you chuckled.

“Maybe this one with the hearts to match the boots and then a nice mini skirt… not too short.” He knew how you liked to dress and you gave him a coy smile.

“Ya know what, Yeager? You’re cute.” You kissed his cheek before pushing him out the room to get dressed. You hate to admit you were feeling hot all over, most guys didn’t come into your room for anything but sex and even though you weren’t expecting him to come in and help you decide on something else he did. It was little. But more than you were used to.

Eren on the other hand, was trying not to palm his dick. Touching the soft fabric of your clothes and imagining them on your skin, had him gulping. He paced the living room before he heard small paws running up to him and yelping. A small bundle of golden tan fur ran up to him, scratching and sniffing the area around him.

“Princess!” You yelled, running out to get your little dog. “Sorry Eren, she loves new people. I thought she would stay sleep, but...” You coo and tap the floor so that she comes running. “I’ll put her up and then we can go.” You scoop her up.

He stops you, “Let me meet my baby’s baby.” He ushers her out of your hand and into his own, a deep smile on his face as she licks his fingers.

You ignore what he says and how it makes your stomach flutter, you just cross your arms and watch. “She’s the cutest.” He tells you, staring you down with a hooded gaze. “Let’s get going, ‘kay?”

You nod, heading to put her into a crate so she can sleep until you get back.

He waits for you, even when you lock up your apartment, he opens the car door for you. You don’t know why but you feel like everything’s going to change tonight.

And Eren can feel it too.

------

It isn’t until you’re already there that you realize his hand was on your thigh the entire car ride. His touch leaving a trail of hotness and when he finally parked, your eyes wouldn’t leave your thigh. Was it weird that you were already missing his touch against your skin?

You heard a few people greeting him as he caught up towards the house behind you, he nodded to a few and did a half wave to some others.

“Birthday boy Yeager, finally! Being late to your own party, really man?” Connie greeted him and your body froze.

Eren didn’t mention it was his birthday. Connie didn’t even mention it when he invited you. You frowned and moved closer before squeezing Eren’s side.

A slight yelp, “The fuck was that for?” He asked, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“It’s your birthday and you didn’t tell me? You were selling me weed on your birthday, driving me to your birthday party and didn’t bother to mention it?”

“It…skipped my mind.” He muttered, scratching the back of his head.

“You didn’t tell your girl your birthday?” Connie snickered. “You didn’t want any birthday sex? Mannn—“

Eren lightly jabbed Connie’s arm, “You know we’re just friends.”

But really, who could tell? Whenever you both were together, you both always stood so close together, sometimes even with his hand on your waist. Deep long stares and only focusing on each other.

“Rightttttt.” Connie laughs and waves you and Eren down to the basement. “So while the party’s upstairs… our real party will be right here, just the gang you know…” He explained while you looked over the place.

A comfy basement with a long couch and two loveseats, a few white garden chairs. A bong on the table that sat in the middle and a few bottles of alcohol. “Sooo, where is everyone?” You raised your eyebrows, arms folded against your chest.

Connie thinks for a moment before raising a finger, pulling out his phone and calling someone. “Yeahhh, hello?” You and Eren shared a glance before looking back at Connie. “Fuck, you gotta be kidding me… no, no, it’s fine,” Connie does an awkward smile to you both. “Alright. Yeah. See you soon.” He sighs.

“Fuck, I gotta go. Sasha said she needs me to get her. Then Jean too and… yeah… basically I think all those fuckers need a ride.” He explains. “Please make yourselves comfortable down here or upstairs, whatever. I’ll just be right back.” He jogs up the stairs and closes the door.

You feel awkward just standing so you smooth out a place on the loveseat and sit down.

But of course you weren’t planning on Eren sitting next to you. Cramped up and all in your space, his legs spread wide with almost little room for your legs. You stare at him, “Seriously?”

He does a sly smile, “I can’t sit next to you? You gonna deny me all tonight huh?”

Remembering it was his birthday, you just let him. His arm over your shoulder and pulling you in. “Fine… fine.” You mutter, pulling out some of the weed you brought from him earlier.

“Hey…lemme roll that for you.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, he just does it. The shiny piercing on his tongue showing itself as he licked up the paper.

You squeezed your thighs, just watching him. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and with a few clicks, he lit your blunt and took one long drag from it, finally handing it to you.

“Thanks…” You brought it to your lips and his eyes burned into yours. You inhaled, smiling as you felt it come over you. You hummed to yourself, your hooded eyes watching him as he watched you.

“How you feelin’?” You heard him ask, your body humming and you leaned closer into his touch. Your head laying on his shoulder.

“Good.” You responded shortly. “Just really good.”

“I’m glad to hear that baby.” His voice sounded closer but you ignored it. You smoked the blunt again and when you went to exhale, he pressed his lips to yours, just a small peck.

Briefly, you would’ve missed it if your eyes weren’t open.

“Been wanting to do that all day.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay…” You swallowed. “You can do it again.”

It was all he needed. His hands grabbed your face gently and he pressed a small peck on your lips. Then again. His hands touch the skin of your thigh when he goes in a bit deeper. No more little kisses, he’s fully kissing you on the lips. “Must be the weed, hm? You’d never let me kiss you…fuck,” He sounds pissed but mainly at himself.

“I took like two puffs, I’m barely…buzzed. I just… I mean why not?” You ask aloud, looking at him. Maybe you were just tired of pretending that you didn’t want him. That you didn’t want this. You were horny and maybe a quick fuck to get him out of your system would be good for the both of you.

“You like playing with my heart huh? You know how I feel and…” He trails off. “You know I like you—“

“You don’t like me, you just wanna fuck me like everyone else.” You had a hard time believing that he had feelings for you, that he wasn’t like any of the others before him. You wave him off but he grabs your wrist.

He clicks his teeth before laughing, “No, no, no…Baby. You’re special to me. Just want you all to myself, always.”

You snort, “Yeah right…” But your body felt so hot and like you’re wearing too many clothes.

“Come sit on my lap pretty girl. Let me show you something.” He pats his lap and grabs your waist, tightly.

“Show me what?” You were curious but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to come back to being just friends if you did what he asked.

“How much I like you.” He lifted you with ease and in an instant, you were on him. You could feel just how big and hard he was under you. You swallowed, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“Well? Show me.” You smile, hotness rolling off the both of you in waves. He smiles before he brings you in and kisses you.

Moaning when he pulls you closer, jerking his hips up to yours. His hands exploring your body and his tongue enters your mouth, swirling around. Slipping his tongue in and out your mouth, sucking on yours. His hands traveling down your back until he gripped your butt, spreading and massaging them in his large palms before sliding them up and down your back.

He kisses the sides of your neck and you take another drag of the blunt, feeling your lungs expand and the sensation of his mouth and hands making you shiver. He grabs your hips and rolls his more into yours, the fabric of his denim jeans hitting your clit.

Breathing heavily you inhale and with shaky hands you pull him forward. Kissing him with the smoke still in your lungs, his cock throbbing in his pants, he’s trying not to be greedy but he wants you. Tracing up and down your shirt, slipping his fingers underneath.

He feels a bit giggly afterwards. With a dopey big grin on his face, “You’re so pretty. Like an angel.” You’re smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt but your pussy is pulsing and you need him.

“Eren… thank you. But I just… need… I need you to…Please just touch me. Please.” His hands roam again. His cock half hard in his pants and his hands on your hips, he makes you roll them against his again. You gape and gasp a bit, feeling how hard he is against your damp dainty panties.

His hands are under your skirt and he massages the bit of your butt and thighs, spreading and patting you. He kisses you full on the lip and sucks more on your tongue before pulling back, “You’re just so pretty.” His forehead is on yours and his eyes are eating you up.

Your clit pulses and throbs the more he rolls your hips against his and the way he’s digging his fingers into the skin of your butt and thighs, you’re groaning and sighing, “This feels so…” you wrap an arm around his neck. “Good.” You whisper in his ear and feel him shiver, you press small kisses up and down his neck. “You’re so hard…” You lick him, small and to the point. “Eren…I—“

“Shhh,” He stops your hips, that were now moving on their own. “Just keep doing what feels natural… what feels right. We can talk about all of this later. But now? Let me make you feel good, yeah? Wouldn’t you like that?”

And it’s the way that he says it, honestly, that makes your heart speed up and your panties even more wet before he slips them to the side.

“Holy shit, already? This wet, baby? Damn…” His fingers sticky just from a quick slip inside, your mouth open and your legs shaking. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” You hear the sweet sounds of him fingering you, the wet noises echoing in the dark room.

“Fuck,” He mutters, flexing his fingers and twisting them inside. You clamp down on him and he bits his lip before kissing you, trying to keep you both quiet.

You lifted his shirt a little, looking at his stomach as he breathes in and out, his stomach muscles flexing. You smile to yourself, helping him out of his shirt before you trail your hand up and down his muscular chest and stomach. A semi thick patch of hair from his stomach and disappears down into his pants catches your attention and with a deep gulp your fingers dance lightly on his stomach until they disappear into his pants.

His breath hitches, “Your hands are so…whew,” His eyes are closed when you touch him, stroking him. “So damn soft. Too damn soft.” His hips jerk up at the contact of your hand against him.

“Has anyone ever—?” He doesn’t say it but licks his lips and sucks at his teeth.

“No, never…” Boys were too interested in sex never foreplay or oral. Some never even looked at your pussy.

He huffed, “Idiots. Want you to sit on my face, okay?” He could feel you twitching and your body freeze up.

“You’re so weird you know that?” You squeeze at his tip and he whined a bit, taking your wrist and taking it out of his pants.

“Hey, been thinking about it forever.” He have, he liked being your friend but he always thought about what’s between your legs. He always felt so guilty for it, this ulterior motive of his.

With your skirt still on, you move to hover over him. He breathes you in and groans out a deep “Fuck.” His tongue soaked in spit but he grabs at your thighs and slurps at your swollen clit. The heavy scent of your aroma wafting around his face.

Your thighs shaking as you rock your hips against him, but he wants to take things slow. Your juices all over his mouth and even a bit on his nose. You hated how greedy you were being. His tongue flicking at your stick clit and sucking on your lips.

“Eren! Faster…faster, please.” The cold metal piercing brushed against your clit and had you seeing stars so clearly that you tugged at his dark hair.

He liked the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue, even the way your mouth looked when you said it. Your lips: a work of art and your voice a song. So to be the one who’s listening and the one giving you this pleasure? He couldn’t help but smile to himself. To revel in it.

He chuckles listening to the soft moans of your pleads and begging, “No need to beg, don’t you know you own me? I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you say.”

His voice made you clench and he pressed small kisses up your slit before stretching you apart, “Think I can see you getting all wet for me…” His tongue dives in and your toes curl as he licks around the insides of you. Sucking at your folds and diving inside of your wetness, he moved one of his hands from your thighs and rubbed with two fingers on your achy clit. You shuddered, biting your lips.

He smiles looking at your pussy, so wet and pretty before he dives back in. Really just wanting to be covered in your scent. He gives a few more sucks, your hips raising and thrashing against his face.

“Baby,” The breath of his deep chuckle hitting your pussy and you shiver. “I’m leaking in my pants. I need you. Badly.”

He took his time but he laid you out on the couch, looking at the amount of your arousal that ran down your legs. He watched your pussy twitch, using his fingers he spread you open, clenching around the cool empty air. “Fuck,” you already looked fucked out and he haven’t even been inside of you yet.

Sliding his thick cock between your wet folds he felt you tremble. Tapping the head against your clit, he felt you jolt and he slowly slid inside of you. Your walls sucking him in and squeezing him tightly.

He groans, almost collapsing on top of you and you dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Wanted you for so long.” He kisses you quick and laced your fingers together, squeezing your hand. “It’s so wet inside of you, feels so fucking good.” Stretching and carving your insides to only fit his shape. Everything sounded underwater as he continued to pound inside of you. “You’re so perfect. So pretty. Fuck.” He angled his hips before thrusting faster inside of you. “So tight, so pretty, so mine.” He purred, licking up your throat and sucking; leaving a trail of hickies in his wake.

“Eren, oh god.” You breathe, worked up. He brings your legs from his waist and bring them closer to your head, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you.

“Think I’m in love withchu…” His thrusts are strong and now your feet dangling over your head, you couldn’t think straight. “But I think you already know that, hm? Think you love having me wrapped about your fingers.” Meeting every thrust he made, you felt a small bit of squirt splash and soak up his cock as he pulled it out before plunging back inside of you.

Your stomach is twisting and your toes curl heavenly as his dick continues, you push at his chest. “Wait! Eren…I…” You feel even more pressure in your gut and clench around him. “Please… no more.”

Your eyes are watery but Eren doesn’t care, instead he uses the pads of all his fingers and do deep aching rubs on your clit. Writing his name in your clit with your fingers, your thighs shake and then you’re finally cumming all over him and with a few more hard thrusts, he follows with a deep groan of your name.

He lays on top of you for a second to catch his breath before kissing you again. “I like you. Always have.” He huffed.

You bite back a smile. “I like you too…” You tell him shyly.

He gets up and hands you your pretty panties with a smug look. “So will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckle, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend Eren.”

All Eren could think of was that this was his best birthday in a long while. He peppering kisses over your face.

“Alright… birthday boy, put some pants on.” You snicker, looking at his lower half, he was already getting back hard.

“Oh right.” He kissed you again.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt skips Tara Yummy's 1M party to have quality time with his girlfriend.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦�� 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt's car glided through the moonlit streets of Los Angeles as he headed toward Y/N's apartment after dropping off his brothers at Tara Yummy's 1 million celebration party. The radio played the playlist created by him and Y/N, which they constantly fed with new songs that reminded themselves of each other.

Matt smiled as he looked to the little surprise he had prepared for his girlfriend. He made a brief stop at a flower shop on the way, where he bought a simple bouquet of pink tulips - Y/N's favorite. His eyes momentarily found the bouquet carefully wrapped and placed on the passenger seat before returning his gaze to the road.

Upon arriving at the building where Y/N lived, his access to the parking lot was quickly granted, the doorman already knowing him very well. The boy didn't take long to take the bouquet in hand, locking the doors and taking the elevator to the corresponding floor.

The sound of the keys against the front door lock sounded faintly through the living room, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing seconds later, Matt quickly taking off his shoes and resting them against the wall.

"Baby?" His voice echoed through the walls, expanding to the nearest rooms, while his eyes quickly surrounded the space, searching for the girl.

"Kitchen!" Y/N shouted back, an involuntary smile growing on her face almost automatically, her body reacting to Matt's presence.

Matt made his way to the kitchen and found Y/N with her back to him, focused on the counter as she moved her arms over the ceramics. With a smile on his face, he approached her silently and hugged her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her stomach covered by her hoodie and little green apron.

"Hi, pretty boy." Y/N murmured softly, rubbing her hands together to shake off the flour before wrapping her arms around his, caressing the hoodie-covered skin. "I thought you were going to Tara's party."

"Without my girl? Never." He responded in a low tone against her neck, laying his head on her right shoulder so that his face was facing her neck and sealing her jaw gently. "I brought you something." Matt pulled away slightly and retrieved the bouquet he had rested on the table.

Y/N turned to him with eyes full of curiosity and confusion, which soon turned into pure ecstasy, her heart overflowing with love.

"Oh my... Matt, they're beautiful!" The girl beamed, accepting the bouquet and cradling it in her arms as if it was a newborn.

"I always bring you flowers, I don't know how you still react so surprised." Matt murmured jokingly, smiling as he watched her enjoy the little gift.

As Y/N carefully arranged the tulips in a new ceramic vase, Matt approached the oven to peek at what she was preparing. The delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air, making his stomach growl with anticipation.

"Did you make cookies?" The boy asked excitedly.

"Yes! I was baking it to take it to you tomorrow." Y/N nodded quickly, returning to her starting position. "Do you want some, hon?"

"Yes, please."

Matt watched in awe as Y/N bent slightly, opening the stove door and carefully taking out the baking tray with her hand covered in the soft yellow fabric glove, resting it on the counter.

He knew he was lucky to have someone so incredible in his life, someone who cared about making every moment special.

The girl rose to her tiptoes after closing the oven, opening the cabinet above the stove and retrieving two dessert plates designed with little strawberries. She placed them side by side next to the tray before taking a small spatula and moving two cookies to each plate carefully, afraid of breaking or dropping them.

Matt walked over, taking one of the cookies from the tray with the tip of his fingertips, ignoring the slight burn from the high temperature. He lifted his own hand, blowing on the sweet before biting off a piece, closing his eyes automatically and letting out a sigh of pleasure through his nose. The way the cookie was still warm made it melt in his mouth, the chocolate exploding against his tongue, multiplying the variety of flavors.

"Is it good?" Y/N giggled, watching him with a smile gracing her face, receiving a quick nod with wide blue eyes. "Come on, baby."

She took the plates in her hands delicately, leaving her kitchen and walking to the balcony with Matt following close behind as he licked his fingers, removing all the chocolate residue.

The night was cool and clear, with the sky dotted with twinkling stars. The couple snuggled into the cushioned chairs that decorated the small space, Matt quickly reaching for the pink blanket that was folded on the small table on the right corner, opening it and throwing it over his and his girlfriend's legs, protecting them against the light breeze.

"Oh! Matt, remember the dog constellation I was telling you about the other day?" Y/N's excited voice cut through the comfortable silence, her eyes lighting up just like the stars above them.

"Sirios? No, wait, Sirius... Right?" Matt frowned, a cute look of confusion spreading across his face as his eyes darted from Y/N to the sky and back again.

"Exactly! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Right there." The girl raised her arm that wasn't holding her plate, pointing her index finger upwards.

Matt looked in the indicated direction, navigating through the stars for a few seconds until he found it.

"Wait, it's actually beautiful. What else do you know about it?"

Y/N smiled truthful, her heart warming at being able to talk more about something she loved so much, without having restrictions or feeling ashamed for her excitement.

"Well, Sirius is a binary star, which means it is actually two stars orbiting around each other. It is part of the constellation Canis Major, the Greater Dog, and is known as 'The Dog Stars'. Oh, oh! Do you remember Sirius Black? My favorite Harry Potter character? So, this star..."

Matt listened intently, slowly chewing the small cookie pieces while keeping his eyes fixed on Y/N. Her passion for astronomy and the universe always fascinated him, and there wasn't a time when she brought up the subject that he wasn't willing to give her his full attention.

As the night progressed, Matt and Y/N continued to stargaze, lost in conversations about the cosmos and its mysteries.

As the last cookie crumbs disappeared from the plates and the sky began to brighten with the sun that appeared over the horizon, Y/N felt a wave of comfort and contentment envelop her body, resting the ceramics on the corner table and moving gently towards Matt, settling on his lap.

The boy opened a big, involuntary smile, automatically wrapping her with his arms and the pink blanket, protecting them from the slight cold of dawn, while she laid her head on his chest, feeling the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat and serene breathing.

Together, they kept their eyes fixed on the sky that was beginning to take on color, the sound of the first cars on the street, and the laughter of children going to school filling their ears.

Little by little, Y/N began to feel the effects of exhaustion after staying up all night, her body relaxing against Matt's comforting warmth. Sleep came like a gentle wave, enveloping her senses in an embrace.

Her breathing became slow and regular, while her body became limp and light. Her brain shutting down and giving in to deep sleep, to the point where she didn't hear the little whisper of "good night, petal" from her boyfriend, let alone his arms carrying her to her bed, where they finally slept in each other's arms.

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[pastryfication]

Can you please do Oscar x reader, who's birthday is coming up but she doesn't want to celebrate or acknowledge it?

I'm that way. My birthday is on the 30th. 🥺

happy birthday!!! i hope you have an amazing day, love xx

this is my gift to you ❤️🥳

birthday celebrations | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

content warnings: oscar being the perfect boyfriend.

you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the warmth of your blanket cocooning you against the world outside.

you snuggle deeper into the bed, just wanting to hide. today is your birthday, a day you’ve dreaded for as long as you can remember. birthdays have never been your thing—too much fuss, too many expectations. you’d rather it pass like any other day, quiet and unremarkable. but your boyfriend has other plans.

you hear the faint clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. curiosity piques, and you pull yourself out of bed, padding softly to the source of the noise.

and there he is, oscar, standing by the stove, a look of concentration on his face as he prepares your favorite breakfast—fluffy pancakes with strawberries and jam. he turns, catching sight of you, and his face lights up with a smile that melts your reluctance just a little.

“happy birthday, love,” he says, coming over to kiss your forehead. you try to protest, to remind him that you don’t want a big deal made out of today, but he hushes you gently.

“just a simple breakfast,” he insists, guiding you to the table.

breakfast is a cozy affair, the two of you sitting close together at the small kitchen table. the pancakes are perfect, made exactly like you love them, and the berries are sweet and fresh. oscar keeps the conversation light, steering clear of any mention of birthdays or celebrations. he knows you too well, and it makes your heart swell with gratitude.

after breakfast, oscar insists on a lazy morning. he pulls you back to bed, rewrapping you in a cocoon of blankets and his arms. the two of you spend hours cuddling, watching your favorite shows, and simply enjoying each other's company. his constant attention and gentle touches make you feel cherished, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren't so bad when spent like this.

the day slowly unfolds in a series of small, thoughtful gestures. oscar dotes on you, bringing you tea while you read and stealing kisses when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. he suggests a walk in the park, knowing how much you love the feel of the sun on your face and the rustle of leaves underfoot, and you walk hand in hand through your favourite park.

as the evening approaches, you start to worry about what he might have planned. you’ve made it clear you don’t want a party, and oscar has always respected your wishes, but birthdays make you wary. he sees the tension in your shoulders and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“i know you don’t want a big celebration,” he murmurs into your ear, “but i thought a quiet dinner with a few of your closest friends might be nice. just us, no fuss.”

you turn to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. all you see is his genuine desire to make you happy, and it softens your resolve. you nod, agreeing to the dinner, trusting that he’ll keep it simple.

when your friends arrive, the atmosphere is warm and intimate, just as oscar promised. there’s no grand entrance nor any loud singing, just the comfort of familiar faces and easy conversation. you find yourself relaxing, enjoying the evening more than you expected. the dinner is delicious, the laughter infectious. you catch oscar’s eye across the table, and he gives you a wink that makes your heart flutter.

as the night winds down, and your friends start to leave, you realize that today hasn’t been so bad. in fact, it’s been kind of wonderful. oscar walks you to bed, his hand in yours, and you snuggle into his side, feeling a contentment you hadn’t anticipated.

“thank you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“for what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“for making today special,” you reply, “without making it too much.”

he smiles, pulling you closer. “anything for you, my love.”

and as you drift off to sleep, you think that maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren’t so terrible after all.

[thewidowsledger]

Look Out For That Rage

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Tags | Warnings: +18, pregnant reader, pregnancy rage, emotional wreck r, sleepy r, jealousy, puking, weird food cravings, weird pregnancy cravings in general not just with food👀 r being obsessed in watching Natasha eat🥴 watching you eat��is so exciting ‘cause nobody else does- S.J.

Author's Note: This part can be boring, just highlights the weird pregnancy cravings that were actually referenced by my cousin's weird cravings and needs when she was pregnant. And I also watched and researched some pregnancy experiences on TikTok so if you find them weird, just scroll away. If I would have a weird food craving it will definitely be vanilla ice-cream and I will dip nuggies and fries to it, what's yours? xD

MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

⧗

“Aunt Y/N wants Uncle Thor in her bedroom.” Morgan mumbled innocently and everyone's attention honed in on her.

Natasha immediately tensed, her eyes widening with disbelief and possessiveness.

“Why on earth does she want Uncle Thor in our bedroom?”

⧗

You abruptly woke up, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you. Your stomach churned uncomfortably, and the overwhelming sensation of being sick forced you to scramble out of bed and rush to the bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet in time, hunching over and vomiting repeatedly.

The absence of Natasha only heightened your emotions, and tears welled up in your eyes. You clutched the edge of the toilet, the solitude only adding to your already distressed state.

You looked back in the bedroom in desperation, searching for any sign of your girlfriend, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Natty?” you called out for her, weak and nauseous, your voice growing more desperate with each hoarse call. “Nat?”

“Lybov?” Wanda called on the door. She heard you call for Natasha with a hoarse voice, panic instantly shot through her and she flung open the door to the bathroom, only to find you hunched over the toilet retching and weeping.

Kneeling beside you, she gathered your hair away from your face and held it in a ponytail, gently rubbing soothing circles to soothe your upset stomach.

After what felt like an eternity, the last wave of nausea finally subsided, and you collapsed against Wanda, your body weak and shaky. She held you close, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she murmured soothing words into your ear.

“It's alright, I’m here.”

Wanda gently took a tissue from the nearby countertop and carefully wiped your mouth, gently removing any remaining vomit. The overwhelming smell of your own vomit caused your stomach to churn once more. She looked down at you as you looked up at her. For a brief moment, you suddenly broke down, a sob escaping your lips, raw and uncontrollable. Your tears spilled from your eyes, and you huddled against your best friend, your body shaking with the force of your crying. Your sobbing grew more intense, Wanda's panic rose, her heart aching at the sight of your distress. She held you tighter, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she tried to soothe your anguish.

“Shh, shh, it's alright,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I've got you, lyubov. I've got you.”

Wanda eased you back onto the bed, her gentle touch guiding you carefully. Just as you leaned against the pillows, the door creaked open, and Natasha appeared, a tray in her hands. She carried a plate of freshly cooked pancakes, topped with a generous dollop of strawberry jam, the aroma of sweetness filling the room. It was your favorite that she always made but right now you fought hard not to want to eat it.

“I want to sleep.”

Natasha, despite the tension in the air, gently insisted, “Detka, you need to eat.”

Wanda remained standing awkwardly in the room, caught in the middle of the tense exchange between you and Natasha. Her eyes darted between the two of you, unsure of what to do or say to ease the mounting tension. But one thing for sure is that she likes how you’re being stubborn and hard with your girlfriend, as you should, she said in her mind.

Natasha picked up the plate of pancakes, but you only huffed in response trying to fight the sweet aroma wafting through the air as she held it out towards you.

“No!” you tucked yourself back in the bed covering your whole body so you wouldn't get the smell of the freshly cooked pancakes.

“Give it to me.” Natasha's grip on the plate of pancakes tightened at Wanda's words. She despised the idea of you listening to Wanda instead of her, she’s your girlfriend for god’s sake. But knowing that this is the only way to ensure you'll eat, she reluctantly handed over the plate to Wanda, her expression betraying her frustration and jealousy.

“I think Y/N would appreciate it if you go out that door right now,” she tried to soften the blow with a gentle smile, but Natasha knew that the witch was really trying to get into her. It took all her self-control to suppress her initial reaction of anger. Instead, she simply nodded tight lipped, biting back any biting retorts that threatened to spill from her lips.

Natasha looked at the comforter you're hiding from, “Detka, please eat. I’ll be right back.” You only huffed, rolling your eyes beneath the thick blanket.

As soon as your girlfriend was out of the door. Wanda sat on your bed, she made sure that she's not sitting on your leg. “Lyubov, I know you're hungry.”

“No, I’m sleepy. I don't want to eat.” You groggily respond, trying your best to keep yourself awake.

“I know you're sleepy, I know you're tired, but that's all the more reason to eat something. You need to keep your strength up, especially now that you're pregnant. Think of the baby. The baby needs you to eat and be healthy.”

“Lyubov?” Wanda called again, as she waited for a response. But when she heard nothing, she carefully peeked over the blankets. There she saw you, fast asleep, your face relaxed and peaceful in slumber. She let out a sigh and carefully, she tucked the comforter around you, making sure to leave your head free from its cozy confines.

Wanda gently set the plate back down on the tray beside your bed and covered it. She looked at you for a moment, her heart filled with affection as she watched you sleep. Without a sound, she then quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

“Did she eat?” Natasha inquired as soon as she saw Wanda, she was actually waiting for her but Wanda remained silent, her expression betraying nothing. Natasha took that as a sign and a smug look at her face, confirming her suspicion that you also didn't listen even to your best friend. Wanda saw the look on Natasha's face and immediately felt the need to defend herself.

“She fell asleep immediately,” Wanda finally spoke up, annoyed by Natasha's reaction.

A heavy silence fell over the two of them after Wanda's words. Natasha fidgeted nervously, her eyes darting around the room while Wanda was preparing herself some orange juice. The weight of the silence became unbearable and finally, Natasha broke it.

“Wanda, I know I messed up with Y/N and I know you're upset about it. I want to fix things and make it up to her, but I can't do that if you're constantly standing in my way.”

Natasha continued, her voice growing more earnest and frustrated. “Please, Wanda. I apologize for hurting your friend, let me fix my mistake. I care about your best friend deeply, and I don't want to lose her love because I was a stupid. I know I screwed up, but I promise I'll do better. Just give me a chance.”

Wanda's gaze softened just a bit as she saw the sincerity in Natasha's eyes, but she still wasn't fully convinced. As your friend or best friend, she needed to look out for you and make sure you weren't hurt again.

“Do you remember what I said to you through comms?” the witch asked.

“I do,” Natasha replied, “you'd kill me if anything happened to Y/N and the baby.”

Wanda hummed, “Good, you remember. I want you to keep that in mind,” she firmly reiterated before exiting the kitchen leaving your girlfriend alone.

⧗

After an hour of peaceful sleep, you finally stirred, slowly opening your eyes. This time, there was no lingering dizziness or nausea, but a nagging hunger pang made itself known in your stomach. You sat up in bed, groggily rubbing your eyes, your thoughts immediately turning to the need to satisfy your appetite.

You remembered the pancakes your girlfriend made for you. There, you noticed the tray that Natasha had brought earlier, adorned with the pancakes still waiting for you.

Hungry and eager, you picked up the plate of pancakes and began devouring the.. The taste of sweetness and warmth filled your mouth with each bite, each mouthful satisfying the ache in your stomach. You could feel the texture of the pancakes, the sticky sweetness of the fresh strawberry with the syrup mingling with the fluffy softness as you hurriedly finished each bite. Within a matter of minutes, you had nearly cleaned the whole plate, no crumbs and syrup marks remaining.

Natasha slowly eased open the door, peeking her head into the room. You glanced up at her briefly, your expression flat as you remained in bed. Your bad mood was evident, and you made no attempt to acknowledge her presence. She entered the room quietly, sensing your mood but still approaching you anyway.

Natasha tried to engage you in conversation, her voice gentle and careful.

“Hey, detka. Did you have a good sleep?”

You don't know why you are being like this, but you cannot actually stand the presence of your girlfriend. Is it because of the other night? Maybe. Is it because earlier that she was nowhere to be found when she literally said that she'll be here for you? Maybe.

Your cold attitude was evident as you placed the plate back on the tray with a loud thud, the sound so forceful and sharp that one might worry it had been broken.

Natasha flinched at the noise, her eyes widening slightly as she watched you set the plate down. Your irritation was palpable, and even the harsh sound you made didn't seem to bring you any satisfaction.

“You finished the pancake, I see,” she winced. You met her gaze with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, your expression unamused and aloof.

“Can you not talk?” you demanded.

Natasha tried to soothe you, but she was quickly cut off by your next outburst.

“Det—”

“Can you not breathe?” you continued, your voice getting louder to Natasha's liking. Your girlfriend was taken aback by your demand but held her breath instinctively.

“Can you just…just leave?!” you finally shouted as you flail your hands, your demand and mood only worsening.

And with that your girlfriend hurriedly made her way out of the room. Natasha gasped for air, her breaths coming out shaky and fast. The redhead was terrified to do anything that might only fan the flames of your mood.

“Hey Auntie Nat.”

“Fuck!” Natasha hissed in surprise as she heard a small voice call her name. She looked down to see Morgan standing in front of her, startled by the unexpected presence of the child. Her heart was still racing from your mood swings and the sight of Morgan only made her gasp for air once more.

Natasha took a deep breath to calm herself, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she looked down at her goddaughter. “Hey, kid whatchu here for?”

Morgan's small voice piped up, “I wan’ see Aunt Y/N.”

Natasha quickly shifted gears, determined not to let the kid witness your moodiness. So the redhead found herself awkwardly explaining to Morgan that you are not in a good mood right now, trying to skirt around the truth in a way that the kid would understand. But Morgan, being a curious and innocent kid, kept firing off questions.

“Aunt Y/N is resting now.” Natasha started.

“Is she sick?” the kid asked, her voice full of innocent confusion. “I really wan’ see her.” she pouts.

“No, no, she's not sick,” Natasha replied immediately, “Well, she was.”

“She was sick?” Morgan repeated Natasha's words, still puzzled and now worried for you.

Natasha bit her lip, mentally sighing at the kid's persistence. She’s trying to remain patient despite the barrage of questions.

“Okay…” Natasha sighed kneeling in front of the kid, “You see, your Aunt Y/N is sick, but she's getting better,” Natasha said, she pushed some hair on the kid’s face using her slender fingers, “but she's very sensitive right now, and seeing people might stress her out. So it's best if we don't disturb her…for now.”

Natasha paused, Morgan always wanted to go to the compound’s gym but her father didn't want her to see the team training and sparring there. The redhead was quick to ask the little Morgan, “What about we go to the gym?”

The kid thought about it for a brief moment, her enthusiasm momentarily diminished as she thought of you. She had brought lots of hair ties, ribbons and hair brushes to play with you, and she’s really excited to see you. So when the kid hesitantly nodded Natasha smiled at her, and she reached out to pinch her cheek affectionately before she took Morgan's hand in hers, her small fingers intertwining the redhead’s.

As the two were making their way to the gym, they happened to bump into Maria.

“Nat!” Maria called. “How are you? How's Y/N and the little bean?”

“We’re all okay, how's your shoulder?” Natasha asked her partner, inquiring about her injury that she had during the last mission.

The two fell into a deep conversation, neither of them noticed Morgan carefully slipping away from Natasha’s grasp. She quietly tiptoed down the hallway, her small feet barely making a sound as she moved towards your room.

You were lying on your bed, your mind in a storm of mixed emotions, when you heard the distinct sound of the door handle turning. At first, you only saw the door opening with no one at the entrance. But then, your gaze shifted downward and your eyes landed on the small figure of Morgan, standing at the doorway.

Immediately, a warm smile spread across your face as you saw Morgan standing at the door. You sat up in bed, your expression softening.

“Hi little girl,” you said in a gentle voice as if you didn't sound like a dragon shouting at your girlfriend earlier. You patted the spot on the bed next to you. “What are you doing here?”

Morgan, who's very excited to see you eagerly trotted into the room, her small feet pattering against the floor. She climbed up onto the bed and sat next to you. The kid looked up at you, her small frame barely taking up any space on the bed. “I wanted to see you,” she said, her voice filled with eagerness.

Morgan's simple but heartfelt confession touched your heart, melting away some of the storm emotions you're feeling a while ago. You smiled at her, your eyes softening as you looked down at the sweet little kid sitting beside you.

“Aww, that's really sweet of you. I'm glad you came to see me. Whatchu got there, Morgan?” You reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately.

Morgan's eyes lit up as she showed you the set of cute ties, a variety of ribbons, glittered hairpins and mini scrunchies and hair brushes she had brought with her.

“I brought it so we can play salon,” she said, her tone filled with innocent eagerness.

“Want me to tie your hair?” You asked and the kid’s small head nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

With a gentle smile, you patted your lap, she quickly moved to settle onto your lap comfortably. You began to sift through the hair ties and brushes that she had laid out before you, asking her which one to use first and the ones she likes.

You started to tie Morgan's hair, she couldn't help but giggle with excitement. Every now and then, she would let out a small gasp or a squeal as you pulled a lock of hair into place. She occasionally turned her head to look up at you with a big smile on her face, expressing her joy at the play time you were having together.

After completing the hairstyle, you reached over to your bedside table and pulled out a small compact mirror. You handed the mirror to the little girl sitting on your lap, a smile on your lips.

“Look at that!” You beamed, “You look so beautiful, little miss Potts!”

Morgan took the mirror and looked at her reflection, her eyes widening with delight. She admired the hairstyle you had just done for her, her hand touching the butterfly clips curiously.

“Thanks aunt Y/N!”

“You're welcome,” you squeak, poking Morgan’s cheek that made her giggle, “Can you call uncle Thor for me? Love?”

The kid eagerly nodded and immediately sprinted towards the door.

“Careful love!” You yelled out to her.

⧗

“So? What's up with Y/N?”

“She doesn't want me to breathe,” Natasha sighed plopping herself to the sofa and that made the team burst into laughter.

Natasha's face scrunched up slightly as she spoke, “I didn't know that being angry when your partner is breathing was included in the package deal of pregnancy.”

Clint held his hands up, trying to contain his laughter, “Ah, pregnancy rage. It's a thing alright.”

“Laura, you know,” he started, laughing between his words, “One minute, she would be laughing uncontrollably at my joke, and the next, she would be yelling at me for forgetting to put the toilet seat down. I swear, I slept on the couch more during those nine months than I ever did!”

Thor clapped a hand on Natasha's shoulder, his voice filled with booming Asguardian laugh. “That’s not pregnancy rage, it's the joys of pregnancy!”

Maria smiled warmly at her partner, “Just be patient with her,” she suggested gently.

“I won't get tired, I don't have the reason to,” she asserted. A slight smile tugged at her lips as she continued, “In fact, I find it cute and scary. I can handle it.”

“Oh wait until she makes you sleep on the floor or couch, I’m here when you have back pains already.”

As the conversation continued, the group's attention was abruptly interrupted and it was none other than Morgan, who came charging into the room with a big smile on her face.

“Uncle Thor, Uncle Thor!”

Thor chuckled as Morgan practically threw herself at him, his strong arms effortlessly catching the little girl.

“Morgan, you ditched Auntie Nat, where did you go?” she asked, pouting at the girl. Then, noticing the girl's hair, she added, “And your hair looks so beautiful!”

“Auntie Y/N did my hair!” the little girl announced proudly, her face lit up with a bright smile.

Clint suddenly spoke up, a puzzled look on his face. “Wait, Nat,” he began. “I thought Y/N is in a bad mood and doesn't wanna see people. How come she did Morgan's hair?”

“Oh no, I think Y/N only doesn't wanna see Nat…” she whispered, her teeth grazing her lower lip as she looked at her partner.

“Aunt Y/N want Uncle Thor in her bedroom.” Morgan mumbled innocently and everyone's attention honed in on her.

Natasha immediately tensed, her eyes widening with disbelief and possessiveness.

“Why on earth does she want Uncle Thor in our bedroom?” She leaned forward, her voice sharp as she repeated the question, emphasizing the word “our.”

The little girl shrugged innocently. She then promptly hopped off Thor's lap, her small hand gripping his fingers with surprising strength. Her voice carried a tone of innocent excitement as she tugged gently on his hand.

“C'mon, Uncle Thor,” she urged, her small figure already setting off in the direction of your shared bedroom.

Thor's eyes shifted nervously to Natasha, seeking her approval before proceeding. After all, she was your girlfriend, and he wasn't sure why you had specifically requested his presence in your room, and your girlfriend has no idea too which is making her crazy.

Natasha released an exasperated sigh, she crossed her arms before Clint spoke up, breaking the palpable tension in the room with his words.

“Guys, you really think Y/N would do something immoral?” Clint asked in disbelief. After a brief pause he told Thor to go.

Thor nodded slowly, his expression contemplative as his eyes darted towards Natasha who was looking at the ceiling, her frustration evident in the way she chewed on her lower lip and crossing her arms together tightly. Before anyone could say anything else, Morgan impatiently tugged on Thor's hand, her young energy fueling her impatience.

As the little girl pushed open the door to your room, Thor followed closely behind her. The door closed quietly behind them as Morgan led Thor further inside, her small hand still wrapped around his calloused fingers.

“What's up, Asguardian?” you greeted, your arms crossed, cocking your brows at him playfully.

“I’m good and delighted to be here, how about you? How are you feeling Y/N?” Thor replied with his usual charm.

His voice seemed to have a profound effect on you, causing your cheeks to flush lightly, and you responded softly, “I'm doing good, Thor. Well, thank you for accepting my invite.”

Morgan quickly ran towards your bed and in a moment, she plopped down in your lap, a giggle escaping her. The little girl snuggled against you, her small frame feeling warm and soft against your own.

You gestured gently and patted the edge of the bed, silently inviting Thor to take a seat.

“Y/N…” he called out your name very carefully, “I don't think Natasha will like—” but you cut him off mid-sentence. Without giving him a chance to finish, you retorted, “She's not here, is she?”

The Asguardian froze in place, he knew better than to deny you. He has heard your girlfriend rant about your mood swings and he has no intention of provoking or triggering your pregnancy rage which he calls joys of pregnancy and he’s now taking it back.

“I think you can sit on the floor while I sit at the edge of the bed,” you smiled innocently pointing at the floor between your legs.

Thor slowly settled himself between your legs, the metal components of his armor clinking against each other. His broad back was facing you and his heart was beating fast calling all the gods he knew, to his surprise you began to run your fingers through his hair, gently fixing the locks and neatening his usually unruly mane. Then, you requested Morgan to hand you the biggest brush with glitter and ribbon resins on it.

And that to set Thor at ease. He breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that you were just simply intending to do his hair.

As you continued to brush through Thor's hair, you found yourself admiring its beauty and thickness. The golden locks felt soft and smooth under your touch, and you couldn't help but marvel at the healthy and radiant appearance of his hair.

“I hope my baby will have your hair.” You whispered and Thor just nervously chuckled. “Can you ask the goddesses you know if they can make my baby's hair like this?” you peeked at his side.

Thor took a deep breath, choosing his words with extreme caution, “I know some of the goddesses of my realm,” he repeated, his voice laced with nervousness. He knew he was treading on thin ice, both literally and figuratively, as he tried to find the right words to explain.

“But I cannot guarantee that they can grant such a boon,” he continued, his voice softer. “You understand, right? These things are…not completely within my control.”

“Blah, blah, blah…”

Thor's heart thumped loudly in his chest, he cannot believe that a human is making him feel dangerously scared and nervous!

“You could have said no, Thor,” You handed him a mirror, “Okay your hair is all done and pretty.” Thor held the mirror, taking a moment to regard his freshly braided locks with a lot of pink ribbons and sparkly pins in there, he then saw you at the mirror behind him with a small grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“The payment is my baby having your hair, if that really is not possible I guess I’ll just have to settle with another redhead,” you said as the Asguardian stood. Right now you only have two choices, making Thor ask for a goddess that can grant your wish or just accept the fact that your baby will have the same hair as your girlfriend, your hair is not even on the choices.

As Thor stepped towards the door, a thought crossed your mind and you called out to him, “Oh, and Thor,” to which he turned back to face you. You added cheerfully, “Tell Jane I said hi!”

Thor nodded with a smile on his face and waved at you before disappearing in your room. You now turned your focus on Morgan behind you who’s too focused on placing the hair ties on the bed, “So, who's our next client?”

Natasha has been staring at Thor, Yelena and Wanda who’s in a kitchen laughing and admiring each other’s hair. You also called Yelena and Wanda for you to have their hair done with glittery ribbons and hairpins.

“I want my hair done like that too!” Natasha whined as she was unable to contain her jealousy, she actually doesn't know if she wants her hair done like that or she was more interested in getting your attention than the actual hairstyle itself.

Clint couldn't help but chuckle as he looked at Natasha's pouty expression. He reached over and gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Maybe you can ask Morgan if they accept walk-ins.”

⧗

It had been three weeks since the initial pregnancy was revealed, and now you found yourself in the fifteenth week of your pregnancy. Over time, your baby bump has grown more prominent, a visible evidence of the life growing inside you. The symptoms such as morning sickness and cravings had lessened slightly, but a new set of discomforts had taken their place. Your body felt heavier, your feet were swollen, and there were times when you felt exhausted and sluggish.

As for Natasha, Clint had been true to his warnings, and you had banished Natasha to the couch. Your irritation and mood swings were becoming more and more intense as your pregnancy progressed, and you found it increasingly difficult to tolerate even the smallest actions from your girlfriend. Although Natasha was being nothing but loving and supportive, your pregnancy hormones had rendered you quite irritable, causing you to snap at her often…and grew distant to her.

There are also specifically weird things that grew into you like you being not able to go a day without touching Thor’s silky golden locks, which made your girlfriend extremely jealous whenever you ask for Thor and whenever she had to watch you get to play with his hair.

And the food cravings had taken a strange and unexpected turn. There was this one time, you had a hankering for a mango, but it couldn't just be any mango; it had to be from India and you want Natasha to get it, not anyone. Tony, always eager to appease you, even if it meant borrowing one of his jets he arranged for Natasha to go to India to get you those specific mangos you wanted. And the moment Natasha returned, you just placed the mangos in the refrigerator and simply stared at them. Every time you opened the fridge, you made sure the mangos were there, almost as if they were a security blanket.

Sam, who just came back from a mission, was unaware of your mango situation and he accidentally ate one. When you checked the fridge and noticed that one mango was missing, you lost your temper and stormed through the compound, determined to find the culprit who had dared to touch your sacred mangos. Thanks to Natasha for saving Sam from your raging wrath, she immediately replaced it and told you that it just fell god knows where in the fridge but you immediately bought it though.

Today, your pregnancy cravings had struck again, like always and this time, you found yourself craving Wanda's famous paprikash. The thought of the rich, spicy dish made your stomach growl. Wanda, upon hearing of your desire, was absolutely delighted. She was thrilled to cook her speciality for you.

Your eyes lit up as Wanda approached, she carried a steaming plate of paprikash, the rich red sauce clinging to the edges and the golden, tender vegetables visible within. You could almost taste the dish already, your mouth watering in anticipation. Wanda reached the table, placing the plate in front of you with a radiant smile on her face.

You smiled up at your bestfriend, thanking her for the meal before taking a spoonful of the dish. The spicy, fragrant flavors exploded on your taste buds, the warmth of the food coating your tongue. After a moment of pure satisfaction, you placed the spoon back down, once again just staring at the food. Wanda, who had resumed her cleaning at the kitchen counter noticed you not touching your food, furrowing her brow in confusion at your lack of enthusiasm for the food. She knew how much you had been craving it, so why weren't you eating more?

“Lyubov? Is there something wrong?” Wanda asked, worried that you didn't like her cooking. But she always cooks her paprikash the same way so nothing could go wrong.

You quickly reassured her, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “No, Wanda, it's perfect, but I think it's not that spicy for me.”

Wanda chuckled at your comment. “Y/N, I actually reduced the spice because I know you're quite sensitive to spicy foods,” she explained.

“Well it's not that spicy to me.” You said flatly which made Wanda freeze in place, your attitude shifting from being ecstatic about the food and being cold about it.

Your actions seemed almost frenzied as you suddenly stood up, rummaging through the cabinets to find a hot sauce. With a splash, you poured almost half an amount of hot sauce onto the plate of paprikash, the vibrant red sauce mixing with the redder colors of the dish.

Wanda watched all of this in stunned silence, her mind racing to make sense of your behavior. Weird pregnancy cravings, she thought to herself.

You took a spoonful of the food again, now satisfied at the level of spiciness of the food.

“I’m full,” You announced as you pushed the plate away.

“Y/N, you've only had two spoons.” Wanda scolded, placing her hands at her waist. She glanced at the barely touched food on the plate, confusion etched on her face. How could you possibly be full after eating such a small amount, especially when you had just drenched it with hot sauce? It seemed like your pregnancy cravings were reaching new heights.

Food cravings, check. Weird food cravings, check.

“Where’s Natnat?” you asked as you tap the table impatiently, when you were about to stand you saw your girlfriend entering the kitchen.

“Hey, I was looking for you. I’m gonna go to the grocery do you want some—”

“Eat,” you cut her off not minding a word coming out of her mouth.

Natasha didn't hesitate and approached you immediately. She enveloped you in a tight hug, planting a tender kiss on the side of your forehead like she always does whenever she sees you. You clung to her for a brief moment before abruptly pulling away, creating a physical and emotional distance. It's no new to Natasha actually, since the incident you grew distant to her but she couldn't pinpoint if it was due to the hormones associated with your pregnancy or if you haven't forgiven her yet.

You haven't been affectionate to her and you haven't been actually intimate to each other and it's been so hard for Natasha…literally.

Natasha took a seat across from you at the table, you pushed the bowl of paprikash to her, “Here, eat.”

“Oh, okay.”

When Natasha took a bite she immediately felt the burning sensation on her tongue. Her eyes water as she tries to suppress the urge to cough. She didn't want to let on that the food was too spicy, not wanting to dampen your efforts in making her eat.

Wanda, however, simply tightened her lips, saying nothing as she watched Natasha try to maintain her composure.

You watched Natasha struggling with the food, completely oblivious to the fact that it was too spicy for her. You asked, “Good?”

Natasha, just responded with a tight smile, her eyes watering from the spiciness. “Y-yeah, it is,” she forced herself to say, hoping to avoid further questions. She looked back to Wanda who just gave her an awkward smile.

“Wanda cooked it. But I contributed by adding some generous amount of hot sauce.” You said plainly as you watch her like a hawk watching its prey eat.

“Thanks, Wanda,” your girlfriend managed to say between coughs, “Generous amount of hot sauce, huh,” she added, as she wiped her forehead that began to gleam with sweat as she took another bite.

Yelena entered the kitchen and saw Wanda watching you and your girlfriend, “So what are we watching?” the blonde asked.

“Let's just say that Y/N craved my paprikash, had two bites and she made her girlfriend eat it and now she's having some fun watching her girlfriend finish the food.”

“Did you notice that she has been watching Natasha eat for like a week now?” Yelena whispered to the redhead.

“Yeah, we bring in her favorite foods or Natasha gets them herself, only for her to end up consuming almost all of it while Y/N watches her, because if she won't, it's the end for your sister.”

The blonde's voice dropped to a murmur, when an intriguing theory just came up in her mind, “Is it like a... kink thing or something? Y'know watching your partner eat brings you pleasure...” she then stopped when she saw Wanda staring at her in disbelief.

“Seriously, Yelena?” she snapped as she crossed her arms, “I doubt it's that. Y/N is pregnant, hormones and cravings do weird things.”

Yelena, never one to back down, pointed another idea she had in mind, “And horny things.” Wanda could only let out an exasperated sigh.

“Why in the hell Natasha is all red?” Yelena whispered as she looked at her sister who looked like a tomato, she then let out a gasp as she spotted a familiar hot sauce bottle at the table.

“Is that my hot sauce?!”

Next

[chheolie]

"i should buy that diner just to fire that unprofessional attendant."

jealous seungcheol

on that sunny afternoon, you were at your favorite diner, ready to place your order. the delicious aroma of coffee and pastries filled the air, mingling with the soft sound of laughter and conversations in the background. you had been coming to this place for so long that the waiter, minho, was practically a friend.

"hi, minho! how are you today?" you asked, smiling.

minho, a friendly guy with a welcoming smile, replied cheerfully, "hi, y/n! i'm great, and you? what will it be today?"

you thought for a moment, looking at the familiar menu, before deciding, "i'll have that special sandwich, please."

"great choice, as always," minho said, jotting down the order and skillfully starting to prepare it.

it wasn't long before the door of the diner opened, and there was seungcheol, with car keys in one hand and his phone in the other. he had a warm smile on his lips when he saw you, and his eyes sparkled with affection.

as seungcheol approached and stood by your side, minho finished your order and handed it to you with a special smile. "for my favorite customer, we have a surprise today. a complimentary ice cream, your favorite flavor: strawberry."

you widened your eyes in delight. "really? thanks, minho! you're the best!"

seungcheol, beside you, showed a slight look of discomfort but maintained his smile.

with your sandwiches and ice cream in hand, you and seungcheol left the diner, walking side by side. while you were still savoring the ice cream, seungcheol muttered quietly, "favorite customer, huh?"

you smiled at him, happy to have received the strawberry ice cream.

arriving at the car, you noticed that seungcheol didn't open the door as usual. with your hands full holding the to-go packaging with the sandwiches and ice cream, you tried to balance everything and open the car door at the same time. it was a small struggle, but you managed.

seungcheol, watching your struggle "sorry, i forgot," he said, a bit embarrassed.

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but laugh. inside the car, you offered the ice cream to him. "want some? it's delicious."

seungcheol looked at you and then at the ice cream, still with a grumpy expression. "no, thanks."

you realized he was upset. "what's wrong, seungcheol?"

he mumbled, "nothing."

you insisted, "it's not nothing, seungcheol. i know you. what's going on?"

seungcheol finally let out a sigh. "you were all happy because of that attendant."

you laughed softly, surprised. "oh, is that it? i was happy because i got free ice cream!"

he muttered again, "he even knows your favorite flavor."

you sighed, trying not to laugh more. "it's because i go there almost every day after work. minho is just being nice, seungcheol. nothing more."

"jealous," you said, pinching his cheek teasingly.

he immediately brushed your hand away and denied it, crossing his arms. "i'm not jealous. i just found it suspicious."

you sighed, trying not to laugh more. "seungcheol, there's nothing. minho is just nice, he does that with regular customers."

seungcheol looked at you, his expression still hard. "i saw the way the he looked at you."

you couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head. "you're overreacting."

he grumbled, even more grumpily. "i'm not overreacting."

you laughed again, the whole situation seemed so absurd. seungcheol, still with a serious face, mumbled quietly, almost inaudibly, "i should buy that diner just to fire that unprofessional attendant."

this made you laugh even more. "really, seungcheol? buy the diner just to fire minho?"

he kept his eyes on the road ahead, not cracking a smile. "yes. he's a very unprofessional."

you sighed, still smiling. "you're unbelievable. minho isn't a threat. and besides, i only have eyes for you."

the light-hearted argument continued the whole ride. when your boyfriend parked the car, you said, "you really don't need to be jealous because of an ice cream," holding the bag with the sandwiches and ice cream, trying to lighten the mood.

"it's not just the ice cream," he grumbled, closing the car door more forcefully than necessary. "it's the way he looks at you." he took the bag from your hand and strode ahead.

"he doesn't look at me in any way," you laughed, following seungcheol through the parking lot. "you're imagining things."

"i'm not," he grumbled again, looking straight ahead, avoiding your gaze.

arriving at the apartment, as he opened the door, you hugged him from behind, resting your head on his back. "seungcheol, i can't stand being avoided by you," you said softly, feeling the tension in his body.

he stayed quiet for a moment, resisting your touch, but then sighed, slowly turning to face you. "y/n, you're only mine," he finally said, looking into your eyes. "i could give you all the ice cream you wanted. you don't need another man for that."

you smiled, touching his face tenderly. "i know that, silly. and i only want you. no matter how much ice cream i get, you're the only one who matters to me."

seungcheol finally relaxed, pulling you into a tight hug. "i just hate seeing other guys make you smile," he murmured against your hair.

"it's okay," you whispered back, feeling safe in his arms. "i love you."

"and i love you more," he replied, holding you tight, as if he'd never let go.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐀 𝐂𝐮𝐩 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐏𝐭.𝟕 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Waking up to a soft bed, a sweet aroma, and your love cooking with only an apron on. What more could you ask for?

『Word count』 :  1.67k

-> Genre: Smut. Dilf au. DBF au

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Dirty talk. Oral (d receiving). Kitchen sex. Ass slapping. Man handling. Multiple orgasms. Fingering. Getting caught. Swearing. Listen, this is a hot mess. Hehe.

Networks: @newworldnet @blossomnet

Credit for Hongjoong pic in banner @nateezfics ♡ thank you, baby, for letting me use your amazing edit, hehe ♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Part 6 | Buy Me A Ko-Fi ♡

The crinkles of warm fluffy bed sheets, cut through the quiet air. Your body tingled, while your eyes stung from the sun. Everything was completely heightened, including the slight pain between your legs. The pain made you stir in your sleep. The pain that made your hand reach out beside you to the one who created it. But when your hand met with cold linen, your fuzzy eyes opened to see the man that had been lying beside you was nowhere to be found.

You sat up slowly with a groan, rubbing the sleep off your face while stretching your sore limbs. Your vision began to focus as you finally could take in the room around you. You remembered parts you noticed from the night prior but you now took in some of the plushies on the shelf beside a messy desk. You could tell Hongjoong lived in this room. And he certainly loved living in it. It was homey. Sweet. Comforting. you sighed, taking in a big breath to catch some of the fresh air that was spilling from the opened window but that’s when your nose caught a scent sweeter than honey… Actually, it smelt exactly like honey, whipped cream, and strawberries….breakfast.

Hongjoong was cook breakfast?

You jumped out of bed with a smile, trying to ignore the pain. But your aching feet hit the cold floor and it made you second guess whether or not to get back into the nice warm cocoon of blankets. Your gaze found Hongjoong’s dresser as a thought popped into your head, taking another deep breath before hopping out of the comfort of the bed.

-

Hongjoong was so focused on the pancakes in front of him that he almost didn’t sense you entering the room. But the little pitter-patter of your feet made his heart jump enough he turned to give you a bright smile. “Morning Angel….” His breath caught in his throat when he saw you. Nothing but his dress shirt and some of his white slacked work socks. You looked like you were straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t know where one of your hoodies were. So I put your long shirt and some socks on…” In truth, you found his hoodies first. But you wanted to wear the dress shirt more. But he didn’t need to know what. You could see his adams apple bob up and down as he took a large gulp. Were you even real right now?!

“Holy shit…” He mumbled covering his mouth with his palm before scratching his chin. “no... I don’t mind at all baby. In fact…” He turned around and turned off the heat to the stove before he walked over to you. He was wearing a kiss-the-cook apron and no shirt. His sleep shorts hanging so low you could see his perfect waist. Who's the slut now? He grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him. Your arms found their place around his neck, bringing him closer until his head was inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, the smell of honey and whiskey entering your nose. Was this man drinking while cooking you breakfast? “…You look so fucking good in my clothes.”

“Hmm, and you look better with them off.” You replied cheekily, your lips curling into a wide toothy grin. Your words were playful, daring him to edge further. His smile matched yours as he sealed his lips against your own. A loud growling sigh blew from his nose letting him relax his body against yours. His hands began to wander from your hips, snaking under your—his—shirt finding your bare thighs.

“Fuck me, baby, if you weren’t sore I’d bend you over this counter right now and fuck you until you see stars.” He growled biting the bottom of your lip before pulling away.

“I’m not that sore…” You whimpered wanting him to follow through with his sinful suggestion. He pecked your cheek before releasing your hips and straightening his apron.

“Yes you are… and besides you need to eat.” He gave you one of his charming smiles, the ones ladies and gentlemen alike would swoon at. But you just rolled your eyes, slowly walking past him, trying your best not to limp from the aching feeling in your thighs. You placed both hands on the ice-cold counter, your whole body shivering at the sensation. Looking over your shoulder you see Hongjoong standing with his hands on his hips, eyeing you like a predator. He was visibly horny and you were going to get him to break.

“Oh well then. Don’t you need to eat too, Joongie?” You giggled, bending down so your top half could lay on the marble surface with your hips flush against the edge. This made your shirt ride up, exposing your bare ass to him.

“You dirty little girl,” he grunts, quickly moving behind you. He eyed your ass rubbing the soft plump skin before drawing back his hand and landing a nice harsh smack. The gasp that spilled off your lips was music to his ears. You grabbed the edge of the table, preparing yourself for another blow. But only this time you a greeted with a sudden sharpness of pleasure as he drove a finger into your pussy. “You’re already so wet. Did I not fuck you enough last night.”

In truth, when you woke up this morning, you were hoping to have Hongjoong still in bed. All your mind could think about was how this man fucked you last night. And how he promised to eat you out until you were awake…You wanted more. Needed more. It wasn’t a craving but an obsession. “I could use a little reminder… and besides.” You shook your ass, feeling his bulge twitch in his boxers. “What happened to waking me up by eating me huh?”

That earned you a hard slap. But he soothed it quickly with his palm. “Is that what you want, angel? Are you disappointed I didn’t eat this cunt until you were screaming?” He growled, leaning over until he was squishing your body between the counter and his large chest. His cock was aching against the slit of your ass, just begging to be let out of its confinements. But Hongjoong needed to contain himself. He wasn’t about to give in so easily this time.

“Please Joong. I want to know what your tongue feels like.”

“Fuck…” Okay, maybe he was going to give in that easily. “Anything my angel wants gets.” he kissed your covered shoulder before sitting up, pulling you up with him. You couldn’t focus on what was happening until he had spun you around and grabbed your thighs to hoist you up onto the counter. The marble was chilling on your sore, red-hot cheeks. But you didn’t have time to whine as the male in front of you pushed you down until you were laying fully on the counter and your head was nearly handing off the edge. Hongjoong was quick to spread your legs, being greeted with your bare-soaked pussy. Fuck, he needs you to walk around in nothing but his shirts more often. He grabbed your ankles, draping your legs over his shoulders before reaching for your hands and placing them on his head. “You better hold on tight angel.”

He flattened his tongue, licking a long strip through your wet folds. His mouth latching onto your clit, sucking hard on your sensitive bud. Your fingers tangled in his fluffy hair, tugging him closer to you, if that was even possible, was grinding your hips against his face. His wet appendage snaked back down to your pulsating hole, fucking it while his nose rubbed against your nub. He inhaled your scent, growling against you. Everything about you was perfect and he knew you would taste amazing but now that he’s finally gotten a taste, he has no intention to stop now. He was going to eat you whenever he could. On the counter for breakfast. On the dining table for dinner. In the hallway counter for a little snack. Or on the couch for dessert. You were officially his favourite meal. “Fuck, Joongie please f-f-fuuuuckk…”

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, looking around the room with your upside-down view. Your jaw was slacked with it being opened too long. And your voice cracking with every moan and whimper. Your skin felt like it was on fire and as he pushed two fingers inside you, you knew you were right at the edge. “Come on angel. Come on my tongue. Can you squirt for me? Come on, I need it, please. Please.” Hongjoong begging tipped you over, tightening around his fingers while you saw white dots in your vision as you came hard all over the older man's face. But Hongjoong didn't stop his movements, in fact, he got faster. Thrusting his fingers in you at such a pace all you could hear was the squelching wet noises from your abused hole. Your body thrashed against the counter as you let out a silent scream from the overstimulation on your sensitive clit.

"Fuck fuck Daddy please!!!" You cried, feeling tears swell in your eyes. you shook your head, trying to get the tears out of your vision and it made you bring your attention towards the hallway that leads to the front door. A click rang in your fuzzy ears and it made you realise... was the front door opening!?

“Hongjoong!!”

You sat up so fast, that you almost gave yourself whiplash. Pushing Hongjoong up while grabbing him to cover your face with his chest. the poor man, still in a pussy drunk phase shook his head focusing his vision on where the noise came from suddenly feeling his body run cold. His hands protectively cage you, preparing for the worst.

“What the actual fuck is going on here?”….It was Yunho. Your father's other friend…

Shit.

[creamflix]

various jujutsu kaisen men x reader; suggestive content. no reader gender specified, except in sukuna's part (use of "woman"). use of different smoking techniques and devices, vapes, weed, hookah, cigars, cigarettes, bongs. making out. established relationship. includes gojo satoru, geto suguru, ryomen sukuna, nanami kento, shiu kong, toji fushiguro, ino takuma. — masterlist here ☆

you never thought you'd see GOJO with a vape. he always seemed above that kind of thing, the type to make fun of anyone who’d whip one out in public. yet here he was, casually lounging on the couch, blowing out a cloud of sweet-scented smoke with the ease of someone who’d been doing it for a while.

you raise an eyebrow, staring at him, trying to process the image in front of you. “vaping? seriously?”

gojo looks over at you with that signature smirk of his, the one that always manages to get under your skin. “what?” he says, taking another hit, lips closing around the tip before he exhales slowly, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “it’s just a hobby.”

“yeah, a weird one,” you mutter, eyeing the slim device in his hand. “kinda thought you'd be above it.”

“what can i say, i’m full of surprises.” he leans in closer, his icy blue eyes flickering with amusement. “wanna try?”

you hesitate. vaping always struck you as... juvenile, but the fruity smell of whatever flavor he was using lingers between you, filling the air with a sweet, almost tempting aroma. strawberry, raspberry, maybe even a hint of cherry. your curiosity gets the better of you, and you give him a slight nod. "fine, just a taste."

gojo’s smirk deepens as he takes another long drag, his eyes never leaving yours. you expect him to hand you the vape, but instead, he leans forward, grabbing your chin between his fingers. before you can process what’s happening, he tilts your head up, bringing his lips close, and blows the warm, sweet vapor directly into your mouth.

your eyes widen, shock freezing you in place as the sensation hits — warm, soft, and strangely intimate. the flavor floods your senses, sweet and slightly tangy, making your tongue tingle as you instinctively breathe in. there’s a brief pause where your mind blanks, the closeness of gojo’s face, the taste of the vapor, the feel of his breath mixing with yours, and then it hits you.

you’re hooked.

he pulls back, watching you with a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers still lightly gripping your chin. “how’s that?”

you swallow, still tasting the fruity sweetness in your mouth, a little lightheaded from the unexpected intensity of it all. "that... that was —"

“good?” he interrupts, chuckling as he leans back again, clearly amused by your reaction. “told ya, you’d like it.”

“you could’ve just handed me the damn thing,” you huff, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“where’s the fun in that?” he shoots back, his smile widening as he takes another drag. “besides, this way’s more... personal.”

you roll your eyes, but your heart is still racing. there’s something addicting about the way he did it, the closeness, the way his fingers felt on your skin, the taste of him lingering in the vapor he shared with you. you know it's not the vape you're craving —it’s him.

you never expected NANAMI to be the type to use nicotine pouches, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. his job was stressful, and he had that quiet, restrained intensity about him — like he needed something to keep himself in check. still, finding out about it during a heated makeout session wasn’t how you imagined the discovery would go.

you were pressed up against him, hands fisted in his shirt as your tongues tangled together, his lips warm and firm against yours. everything was electric, your body humming with the connection, when you felt something odd in his mouth —something that definitely wasn’t his tongue. you froze, pulling back abruptly, eyes wide as you tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

nanami, ever calm and collected, looked a little flustered as he caught your confused expression. he didn’t say a word, just parted his lips and pulled his gum back slightly, revealing the small, white pouch tucked between his lip and gums. his face was flushed, a faint pink creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, and the sight of him like that — lips parted, a little breathless, and his mouth slightly open — had your heart skipping a beat.

“nicotine pouch,” he explained simply, his voice a low rumble, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. but there was something about the way he had his mouth open like that, the pouch still in place, his expression serious yet slightly embarrassed, that sent a wave of heat rushing through you. he looked... hot. unexpectedly so.

“oh...” was all you managed to say, your heart still pounding. there was a beat of silence, the tension between you both thick and heady, and then without thinking, you surged forward, kissing him again, harder this time.

his lips met yours eagerly, and as your tongues clashed again, you could taste it — the faint bitterness of the nicotine pouch, the strange, numbing sensation spreading across your mouth. it was disorienting at first, the bitter tang making your head spin, but it only seemed to heighten everything. each kiss felt more intense, more urgent, and the slight numbness in your mouth had your nerves firing in overdrive, making every touch of his tongue and lips feel electrifying.

nanami groaned softly against your mouth, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his usually calm demeanor fraying at the edges. the nicotine pouch made his kiss feel different, rougher, and you found yourself addicted to the sensation, the bitter taste mixing with the warmth of his mouth, making your head swim. it was intoxicating, the strange mix of flavors and sensations, the way his lips moved against yours with more fervor than before.

you couldn’t get enough.

you had long grown accustomed to SHIU’s habit of smoking, but that didn’t mean it didn’t annoy you. the smell clung to everything — his clothes, the cushions, even the air felt thick with it sometimes. and the ash? you’d complain about it constantly, even though, in truth, he was pretty mindful about where he flicked it. but still, you’d nag him about it whenever you caught a stray bit of ash on the sofa or the faint smell of tobacco in the living room.

"you’re stinking up the whole damn place," you grumbled one day, narrowing your eyes at him as he took a slow drag, blowing the smoke out lazily as if you hadn’t just been ranting at him.

shiu, ever calm, just rolled his eyes, not even bothering with a response. instead, he grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you into him with more force than necessary. before you could utter another complaint, his lips crashed against yours, silencing any protest.

the taste of the cigarette clung to his breath, bitter and smoky, and it hit you immediately, flooding your senses. his kiss was rough, no room for softness or hesitation, and the faint burn of tobacco on his lips made it all the more intense. his hand gripped the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair as he pressed you against his broad chest, trapping you in the scent of him, the smoke, the heat.

you felt like you were drowning in it — his scent, the taste of the cigarette, the force of his body against yours. your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, finding purchase against the solid muscle of his torso. his lips moved against yours with fierce determination, almost as if he was trying to overwhelm you with the very thing you had been complaining about.

and it was working.

his other hand slid down your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you, and you found yourself melting into the kiss despite the lingering bitterness of the cigarette smoke. the more you tried to resist, the more intense he became, his hold on you almost possessive.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, a smug, knowing smirk tugging at his lips as you stood there breathless, still caught in the haze of it all. "still complaining?" he asked, voice low and teasing, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers.

you didn’t have an answer, your heart racing too fast for words. the taste of him lingered, the smoky scent still wrapped around you like a second skin.

"it's the last vape, i promise!" CHOSO whined, eyes wide as you scolded him for the umpteenth time that week. but you weren’t buying it. he’d said the same thing last time, and the time before that. now, he was constantly smelling and tasting like a mix of artificial flavors — cotton candy one day, mango peach the next, and sometimes even mint chocolate chip. it was hard to keep up.

"you smell like a candy shop," you muttered, shaking your head, though there was a slight smile tugging at your lips. "and taste like one too."

choso, looking both guilty and a little pleased with himself, fiddled with the vape in his hand, giving you a hopeful glance. "but look, i learned something cool," he said, a spark of excitement in his voice that was hard to ignore.

you sighed, but when he lifted the vape to his lips, taking a deep puff and blowing out a thick cloud of smoke, you couldn’t help but watch. he exhaled in slow, calculated bursts, forming rings and shapes in the air, the vapor swirling and dancing in the soft light. he showed off, blowing the rings one by one, and even adding a little flourish, making them loop together in a mesmerizing pattern.

you tried to stay annoyed, but it was hard when he was so damn proud of himself, his concentration so serious as he perfected each trick. "see?" he said, glancing over at you with a hint of a smile, clearly pleased with himself.

you giggled despite yourself, watching the way his eyes lit up every time he blew a new shape. it was... addicting to watch, the way the smoke moved, the way his lips curled around the vape so effortlessly. and somehow, the more you watched him, the harder it was to focus on being mad. he made it look so cool, his dark eyes focused, his body relaxed but in control, and it was hard not to be drawn in by his excitement.

“okay, okay, show me how to do that,” you finally said, giving in, though you weren’t sure whether it was curiosity or something else entirely that had you asking.

he smirked, clearly enjoying your change of heart. “here, lemme show you,” he said, stepping closer as he took another drag. this time, instead of showing off, he cupped your chin in his hand, pulling you closer as he leaned in. his thumb brushed over your lower lip, his grip firm but gentle as he held you in place.

“just take a deep breath,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, as he slowly blew the vapor into your mouth, guiding you through the motions. the taste of the vape, some sort of tropical blend, flooded your senses, sweet and almost overwhelming. but it wasn’t just the vape — it was the way he was holding you, the way his eyes stayed locked on yours, the rough press of his fingers on your skin.

you could feel your heart racing, and as the smoky sweetness coated your tongue, the intensity of his presence left you dizzy. you watched as he pulled back, his lips curling into a small, satisfied smile, and you swore you had never been more turned on.

his grip tightened on your chin, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "now blow it out slowly," he whispered, his voice almost teasing, his gaze heavy as he watched your lips part.

it wasn’t the vape that was getting to you — it was him. and the heat pooling low in your stomach told you he knew it too.

“don’t be ridiculous, woman. kings smoke hookah all the time,” SUKUNA scoffs, leaning back in his seat, the hookah pipe resting casually between his lips. his body sprawled in all its intimidating, masculine glory, he looks utterly unbothered by your complaints.

you cross your arms, glaring up at him. “doesn’t mean you need to clutter your whole chamber with that thing,” you huff, gesturing toward the ornate hookah. “it takes up way too much space. i just want to lie next to you without knocking into it every time.”

he exhales a thick cloud of smoke, the rich scent of double apple filling the air around you, making it impossible to escape. his gaze shifts to you, eyes narrowing slightly as if your complaints are nothing but background noise. “always whining,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “you sound like a child.”

before you can protest, one of his four arms snakes around your waist, pulling you onto his lap in one smooth, effortless motion. you gasp, your body tensing as he cages you in with his other two arms, his grip firm, possessive. “maybe if you weren’t so annoying, you’d get what you wanted,” he murmurs, the hookah pipe still dangling from his lips as he takes another long drag.

the sweet, intoxicating smell of double apple lingers thick in the air, clinging to his skin, his breath. you squirm slightly in his lap, trying to make yourself comfortable, but his grip tightens, leaving no room for movement. “sukuna, come on,” you start, your voice slightly breathless. “that thing smells so strong... and you smell like it too.”

he chuckles darkly, ignoring your complaint. instead, he takes another deep inhale from the hookah, his eyes watching you with a dangerous glint. without warning, he leans in, capturing your lips in a heated, overwhelming kiss. the taste of the hookah smoke floods your mouth immediately — thick, sweet, and strong.

you gasp into the kiss, the sharpness of the double apple flavor coating your tongue. it’s so intense, it’s like you’re tasting the smoke itself, your senses overrun by the sweetness and the warmth that lingers in his breath. your head spins slightly from the sensation, the smoky flavor mixing with the heat of his kiss, and it makes you dizzy.

he pulls back only slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, “pathetic.” his tongue flicks out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe across your lips, making you shiver. “getting all worked up over just a kiss.”

you groan, trying to regain control, but the lingering taste of the double apple still clings to your tongue, overwhelming your senses. “it’s not just the kiss, sukuna,” you manage to say, breathless. “you’re practically drowning me in this stuff.”

he laughs, low and mocking. “then maybe you should learn to enjoy it,” he says, his voice dark, teasing. his grip on you tightens, pulling you even closer as he takes another drag from the hookah, exhaling the smoke slowly, deliberately, right in your face. the sweet, thick scent curls around you, and your body reacts involuntarily, your heart racing as you breathe in the intoxicating smell.

“sukuna…” you whisper, your voice faltering as the warmth of the smoke and the heat of his body press in on you from all sides.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, voice laced with amusement. “can’t handle a little smoke?” his lips curl into a smirk as he leans in again, this time pressing a rough, possessive kiss against your lips, tasting the sweetness of the hookah all over again.

you knew when TOJI bought himself a cigar, it meant one of two things: either he was in an unusually good mood, or there was some extra cash to burn. and you weren’t about to deny him his little vice, even if you didn’t love the smell of it. it wasn’t like he smoked cigars every day, after all.

he lounged on the couch, the thick, earthy smell of the cigar curling in the air around him. “gimme a kiss,” he mumbled through the cigar, his voice low and lazy, the words barely audible over the haze of smoke.

you frowned, glancing at the cigar still hanging between his lips. “toji, can’t you at least finish that first?” you complained, waving your hand in front of your face to clear some of the smoke.

he rolled his eyes, taking the cigar out of his mouth for a moment. “stop fussin’. c’mon, get over here.”

before you could argue, his hand was on you, fingers gripping your waist and pulling you in close. you barely had time to protest before his lips crashed against yours. the taste was immediate and overpowering — strong, bitter, earthy. the flavor clung to his mouth, rich and smoky, and it filled yours as his tongue invaded your mouth without hesitation.

“toji —” you tried to pull back, but he only deepened the kiss, his tongue pushing further, rough lips moving against yours with a messy urgency. his breath was thick with smoke, and the cigar’s pungent scent was almost suffocating. it clung to him, to his clothes, to every inch of space around you.

“tastes good, doesn’t it?” he murmured against your lips, his smirk evident even through the kiss. his lips moved to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. each kiss was sloppy, wet, the taste of smoke and bitter tobacco lingering on your skin as he dragged his tongue along your throat. “didn’t hear ya complainin’ now.”

you squirmed slightly in his grip, your head spinning from the intensity of the taste and the sensation of his lips on your skin. “toji, it’s — ugh, it’s too strong,” you protested, pushing at his chest lightly. but he didn’t budge. instead, his arm tightened around your waist, keeping you firmly in place on his lap.

“you’ll get used to it,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the cigar before blowing the smoke out slowly, deliberately, right in front of your face. “now stop whining, yeah? just kiss me.”

you groaned softly, torn between wanting to pull away and giving in to the dizzying combination of his rough kisses and the strong, smoky aftertaste that lingered in your mouth. the smoke was so thick it felt like it was inside you, clinging to your tongue and lips even as he kissed you again, sloppily, his lips moving against yours in an almost overwhelming rhythm.

“see? not so bad, huh?” he teased, pulling back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “still think i should finish the cigar first?”

you shook your head, dazed from the taste and the way his lips had practically devoured you. “you’re impossible,” you muttered, but the way his hands roamed your body, keeping you pinned against him, had you too flustered to argue further.

he chuckled lowly, leaning in to press another open-mouthed kiss to your neck, the smoky scent now permanently etched into your senses. “nah, you love it,” he murmured, his voice smug as ever, his lips trailing back up to claim yours once more.

GETO’s idea of a perfect date night wasn’t fancy dinners or movie nights. no, for him, it was simpler — just a bottle, a bowl, and some weed. the process itself was almost meditative for him, and it filled him with pride when he saw the way your eyes lit up with curiosity as he sat cross-legged, calmly constructing the bong. his hands moved with practiced ease, carefully assembling each piece — filling the bottle with just enough water, making sure the bowl was secure, and showing you how to pack the weed tightly. “you plug it here,” he explained, guiding your hands with his, “and then inhale slowly.” his voice was always so steady, but tonight, there was a hint of anticipation as he showed you the ropes.

it didn’t take long before the two of you felt the effects creeping in, your bodies growing heavier as you both lay back on the soft mat spread out in your bedroom floor. the earthy, herbal smell of the weed lingered in the air, a little pungent, but somehow comforting in the dim light of the room. the soft glow of the led lights cast a calming atmosphere, making the entire scene feel surreal as you both stared up at the ceiling, giggling at nothing in particular.

“you’re really pretty,” geto mumbled, his voice slower, softer than usual. his words dragged a little, the high hitting him just enough to make his movements feel sluggish. he lifted his body up slowly, moving to cage you beneath him, his long hair falling over his shoulders as his dark eyes met yours, glazed with a soft haze.

you giggled in return, your body relaxed and pliant beneath him, making no effort to push him off. the way he looked at you with that sleepy, soft expression made your heart skip a beat. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you teased lightly, reaching up to brush some of his hair back from his face.

he didn’t respond with words. instead, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, but not quite kissing you yet. his tongue was the first to make contact, a slow, lazy swipe against yours, and for a moment, you were just staring at each other with half-lidded eyes, the two of you sharing that quiet, intimate moment. his mouth felt slightly more hydrated from the water-filtered smoke of the bong, but the familiar smoky taste still clung to his breath, mixing with the sweetness of the weed.

finally, his lips crashed into yours, the kiss slow and sensual, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he groaned softly against you. the warmth of his body pressed against yours, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. the pressure made him grunt, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you with more intent, his movements lazy but filled with desire.

the taste of smoke lingered on his breath as he kissed you deeply, the earthy flavor filling your mouth and making your head spin just a little more. his body was heavy, but you didn’t mind — it felt like you were sinking into him, the two of you melting into the haze of the moment, surrounded by the smell of weed and the warmth of his skin.

“you’re everything,” he murmured against your lips, his words slightly slurred as his hand traced slow, lazy circles along your side, pulling you impossibly closer.

“your mouth’s kinda dry, taku,” you tease, straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair. you knew exactly why — cottonmouth from smoking weed. he’d lit up before coming over to your place, and now his lips and mouth felt dry, making each kiss feel rougher than usual.

TAKUMA smirks, his eyes heavy-lidded and lazy, his entire body relaxed against the couch. “spit in it then,” he says with a grin, voice low and teasing.

“you serious?” you ask, raising a brow, slightly taken aback by the request. but there’s something about the way he says it, his tone dripping with lazy confidence, that makes you consider it.

“dead serious,” he mutters, punctuating his words with a firm squeeze to your ass, his hand gripping you hard enough to make you squeal. his smirk only widens, his gaze burning into yours, daring you to do it.

you bite your lip, trying to hold back a giggle, but the way he’s looking at you, all hazy and laid back, makes you want to give in. “fine,” you mutter playfully, gripping his chin between your fingers as his mouth falls open obediently, his tongue outstretched. you let a thick glob of spit fall onto his tongue, watching it pool there before he swallows, his lips curling into a satisfied grin.

before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you back into another kiss. this time, it’s slower but wetter, the spit helping ease the dryness from the weed. his lips still carry that earthy, herbal flavor, mixed with the tobacco wrap of the blunt he’d smoked earlier. the taste is strong — pungent and skunky from the weed, mixed with the sweet, smoky flavor of the cigarillo wrap. it clings to his breath, lingering on your tongue as you kiss him deeply.

the smell of the weed is overwhelming, clinging to his clothes and his hair, a strong, almost musky scent that fills the air around you both. it’s thick in the air, almost as if you can taste it just from breathing. you can feel how relaxed and mellow he is from the weed, his movements slow and lazy as his hands roam over your body, gripping you firmly but without any rush. it’s clear he’s in no hurry to end this moment.

you break the kiss for just a second to catch your breath, but takuma’s lips follow yours instantly, whining softly in protest as you pull away. “no, don’t stop,” he mumbles against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pulls you closer, keeping you locked in place on his lap. “feels too good.”

you smile against his lips, the taste of smoke still lingering between you both. “you’re such a brat,” you tease, but you don’t stop kissing him. his breath is still warm, still heavy with the pungent mix of weed and tobacco, and his lips are just a little softer now, but the kiss is no less intense.

thank you all for 5OO followers, here is a little treat. i had this idea lying around for a while and finally got to work to it on seeing @/sugoroo's loserboy, plug sukuna fic `(*>﹏<*)′ make sure to check out her work too!

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[trueebeauty]

- the kings + their problems

𝖩𝖨𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦 𝖪𝖶𝖠𝖪 - ᴘᴀʀᴀɴᴏɪᴀ

The dimly lit apartment casted an eerie shadow over Jichang's tense features as he paced back and forth, his fingers twitching. 

Gitae Kim was definitely something… and it had left him on edge, his mind plagued with thoughts of potential danger lurking around every corner, worsened by the fresh bandage on his neck – a reminder of what he had barely escaped.

A soft knock at the door made Jichang freeze, his eyes widening ever so slightly as his gaze darted toward the sound. With a slight tremble in his hands, he approached the door cautiously, peering through the peephole with bated breath.

Relief washed over him when he spotted your familiar face on the other side. Quickly, he unlocked the door, ushering you inside with a forced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey," you greeted, concern etched on your features as you took in his tense demeanor and the bandage peeking out from beneath his collar. "How are you holding up?"

Jichang forced a nonchalant shrug, but his eyes betrayed him, "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "Just been a long day, you know?"

You stepped closer, gently brushing your fingers against the bandage on his neck. Jichang flinched at the sudden contact, his muscles taut, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he seemed to melt into your touch, craving the comfort and security you provided.

"Jichang," you murmured, your thumb rubbing soothing circles on the tense muscles of his neck. "You don't have to put up a brave front with me. Talk to me."

A tremor ran through Jichang's body as he exhaled a shaky breath, his walls slowly crumbling under your tender gaze. "I can't shake this feeling that something bad is going to happen," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ever since the run-in, I've been constantly on edge, waiting for something else to happen."

You pulled him into a warm embrace, your fingers combing through his hair in a calming motion while your other hand continued to soothe the tension in his neck. "I'm here now," you whispered, your lips brushing against his cheek. "You're safe here, Jichang. We won't let anything happen to you."

Jichang leaned into your embrace, his rigid posture gradually relaxing as he allowed himself to bask in your presence. His trembling subsided, and his racing heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm, lulled by your gentle voice and the caress of your touch.

𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖩𝖨 𝖸𝖴𝖪 - ᴜɴᴡᴏʀᴛʜɪɴᴇꜱꜱ 

The sweet aroma of simmering sugar filled the air as Seongji and you worked side by side, carefully threading sugar on top of the strawberries.

A playful grin tugged at your lips as you nudged Seongji's shoulder, earning you a mock-offended gasp from him.

"Hey, watch it! You're going to make me mess up," Seongji chided.

"Oh, please, like yours could ever be anything less than perfect," you teased.

Seongji rolled his eyes, but the faint blush dusting his cheeks betrayed his pleasure at your compliment. As you reached for another skewer, your movements slowed, his gaze fixating on your hand – your perfectly normal, five-fingered hand.

A pang of insecurity flickered in his chest, and he quickly averted his eyes, turning his attention back to the simmering pot of sugar. But as he stirred, his mind wandered, dwelling on the differences between the two of you.

You were the complete opposite of him.

You were kind, loving, compassionate, open, and definitely more social.

He was cold, distrusting, introverted, he hated people (minus the children that you call **your nickname for them**).

"Who could ever love someone like me?" he thought, his brow furrowing as self-doubt crept in.

So lost in his troubled musings, Seongji failed to notice the splattering of hot sugar until a droplet landed on your hand, eliciting a hiss of pain from you.

"Ouch! Seongji, the pot!" you exclaimed, quickly grabbing a towel and wiping the sugar from your hand.

Seongji's head snapped up, his eyes widening as he realized the sugar had begun to burn and without thinking, he reached for the pot.

"Seongji, wait!" you cried out, but it was too late. He grasped the handle of the hot pot, and a pained hiss escaped his lips as the searing heat made contact with his hand.

Quickly, you grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your hand before carefully removing the pot from the heat and setting it aside. Your heart raced with concern as you rushed back to Seongji's side, gently cradling his injured hand in yours.

"Oh, Seongji," you murmured, your voice laced with worry as you examined the angry red burn marring his skin.

Seongji remained silent, his body tense as he watched you tenderly care for his wound. He couldn't comprehend why you were fussing over him, why you weren't repulsed.

"How can you stand to look at me, let alone touch me?" he whispered, his voice thick with self-loathing.

Your heart ached at the pain lacing his words, and you gently took his hand in yours, cradling it with the utmost tenderness. "Seongji, you are not a monster," you said firmly, your thumb caressing the extra digits with awe. "This is a part of you, and it's beautiful."

Seongji's eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief flickering across his features. "But—"

You shook your head vehemently, not letting him finish his sentence, leaning forward to press a featherlight kiss to each of his fingertips, cherishing every inch of his being. "You are perfect, just as you are."

Tears welled up in Seongji's eyes, but for the first time in a long while, they weren't born of anguish. Instead, they were tears of relief and acceptance.

"How did I get so lucky?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he gazed at you with adoration.

You smiled warmly, intertwining your fingers with his uninjured hand. "I'm the lucky one. And I'll spend every day reminding you of how truly special and loved you are if that's what it takes."

Seongji's lips curved into a genuine smile, gently, he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the exact spot where the sugar had burned you earlier.

"Thank you," he murmured, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "For seeing me, for loving me, for everything."

𝖳𝖠𝖤𝖲𝖮𝖮 𝖬𝖠 - ᴠɪɴᴅɪᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ 

Taesoo Ma's muscles ached with fatigue as he unleashed a flurry of punches against the sturdy trunk of a pine tree. His knuckles stung with each impact, but the physical pain was a mere distraction from the burning rage that consumed him.

"That bastard," he growled through gritted teeth, his voice dripping with venom as he punched away at the stubborn tree. "I'll make you pay for everything you've done."

Taesoo had bought this secluded mountain property for hunting purposes, but it just turned into a place to train and hone his skills until he was ready for his rematch.

But as the days turned into weeks, his thirst for vengeance had morphed into an all-consuming obsession, driving him to push himself to the brink of exhaustion.

The sound of a tent flap unzipping behind him barely registered in Taesoo's mind, consumed as he was by his relentless assault on the tree. It wasn't until a familiar voice called out to him that he finally paused, chest heaving with exertion.

"Taesoo? Have you been out here all night?" you asked, concern lacing your tone as you took in his disheveled appearance.

Taesoo wiped the sweat from his brow, offering you a tired smile. "I lost track of time."

You frowned, crossing the clearing to stand closer to him. "You're going to run yourself into the ground at this rate," you chided gently, reaching out to cradle his bruised knuckles in your hands, your gaze lingering on the eye patch covering his missing eye.

Taesoo tensed, his good eye narrowing as he turned his head away, shielding himself from your view. He braced himself for the inevitable look of pity or disgust, but it never came.

Instead, you gently cupped his cheek, turning his face back towards you with a tender touch. "Hey," you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to hide from me."

Before Taesoo could protest, you pulled him into a warm embrace, your arms wrapping around him as you rested your cheek against his chest. "I'm here, Taesoo. All of you. The scars, the pain, the anger – I'll carry it all with you."

"I have to get stronger," he murmured, his voice laced with determination. "I can't let him get away with what he did to me, to the others."

Your heart ached at the pain etched into his features, and you gently guided him towards a nearby fallen log, coaxing him to sit down beside you.

"Taesoo, you're already one of the strongest people I know," you said earnestly, your thumb tracing soothing circles over his calloused knuckles. "But strength alone won't be enough to defeat someone like James Lee."

Taesoo's brow furrowed, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. "Then what else is there?"

You offered him a soft smile, "You need to take care of yourself, too," you murmured. "Pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion won't do you any good in the long run."

Taesoo let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world rested upon them. "I just... I can't let him win. Not after what he's taken from me."

"And he won't," you assured him, your fingers gently carding through his hair. "But you need to trust that you'll be ready when the time comes. For now, focus on your own well-being. Let me take care of you."

A flicker of vulnerability flickered across Taesoo's face, but he didn't shy away from your tender touch. Instead, he leaned into your embrace, "I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You pressed a featherlight kiss to his temple, your arms wrapping around him in a comforting embrace. "You deserve the world, Taesoo. And I'll be right here, every step of the way, reminding you of that."

𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖦𝖸𝖤𝖮𝖭 𝖭𝖠 -  ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ

The roar of a powerful engine echoed through the bustling streets as Jaegyeon Na pulled up in yet another sleek, high-end sports car. His face was alight with childlike glee as he stepped out of the driver's seat, running his hands along the pristine exterior with joy.

"Isn't she a beauty?" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with uncontrolled enthusiasm.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you approached him, a small frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Jaegyeon, didn't you just buy a new car last month?"

Jaegyeon's grin faltered slightly at your scolding tone, but he quickly recovered, waving a dismissive hand. "Ah, that old thing? It was starting to feel a bit dated, you know how it is."

You arched an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "No, Jaegyeon, I don't know how it is. You can't keep going through cars like this. It's a colossal waste of money."

Jaegyeon's pout deepened, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of grumpiness. "But, I take good care of my cars! It's not my fault that they get... a little scratched up now and then."

You fixed him with a pointed look, recalling the numerous instances of Jaegyeon's "minor scratches" turning into full-blown dents and shattered windshields. "Jaegyeon, you need to stop damaging your cars. This habit of yours is getting out of hand."

Jaegyeon's shoulders slumped, and he kicked at an imaginary pebble on the ground, his expression almost comically dejected. "It's not like I mean to wreck them," he mumbled, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Your heart softened at the genuine sadness in his tone, and you stepped closer, gently cupping his cheek in your hand. "I know, Jaegyeon. But you have to drive carefully, especially ones as expensive as these cars."

Jaegyeon leaned into your touch, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "I do, I just get so caught up in the thrill of driving, you know? And besides half the time, someone else breaks it."

You couldn't help but smile, even as you shook your head in exasperated fondness. "I know, but that's no excuse for recklessness. Promise me you'll take better care of this one?"

A slow grin spread across Jaegyeon's face, and he nodded eagerly. "I promise. No more scratches, dents, or shattered windshields. Scout's honor!"

You chuckled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Somehow, I doubt you were ever a scout, but I'll take your word for it."

Jaegyeon beamed, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "You know, you're the best."

You rolled your eyes playfully but returned his embrace with equal warmth anyways.

𝖦𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖡 𝖩𝖨 - ɪᴍᴘᴜʟꜱɪᴠᴇ

Gongseob Ji let out a triumphant whoop as his opponent crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold. He puffed out his chest, reveling in his victory, when a sudden urge struck him – an impulsive desire to assert his dominance even further.

Hands immediately unzipping his zipper, just as he was about to act on that ill-advised impulse, a familiar voice cut through the haze of adrenaline.

"Gongseob Ji, don't you dare!" you exclaimed, rushing towards him with a look of sheer disgust engraved on your face.

Gongseob froze, his eyes widening as you grabbed him by the ear, tugging him away from the unconscious figure on the ground.

"Ow, ow, ow! [Your Name], what gives?" he protested, wincing at the firm grip you had on his ear.

You fixed him with a stern look, your free hand reaching to his zipper, pulling it up. "You know exactly what gives, Gongseob. Don't even try to play innocent with me."

Gongseob pouted, his bravado deflating under your disapproving gaze. "But I won fair and square! I was just going to celebrate a little."

You arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his justification. "By peeing on your opponent? Yeah, that's not happening."

Gongseob's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he averted his gaze, mumbling under his breath. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Your expression softened, and you released his ear, opting instead to gently cup his face in your hands. "Gongseob, you're an amazing fighter, but you can't just do that. It's disrespectful and frankly, a bit gross."

Gongseob's shoulders slumped, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes full of remorse. "You're right, I got carried away again, didn't I?"

You smiled softly, brushing his braid to the back. "It's okay, Just remember, true strength isn't about showing off or humiliating others. It's about having the discipline and self-control to use your abilities responsibly."

Gongseob nodded, his lips quirking into a lopsided grin. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

You chuckled, linking your arm through his as you guided him away from the scene. "Someone has to keep that impulsive streak of yours in check, Mr. Hotshot Fighter."

[saturnicos]

— 𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙊𝘿 | [riddle, kalim, idia, azul, sebek]

summary: you cook them favorite food.

[a/n]: gender neutral!reader. some a little bigger than others /cry. also, english isn't my native language, feel free to let me know any spelling mistakes I made.

He would stop his study session when he saw you entering the room, watching you bring a cake pan in hands.

Sniffing the air, he realized it was a strawberry tart newly made.

His face would rise into different shades of crimson red while suggesting a tea to accompany the dessert you had made, like afternoon tea, leaving the handouts, books and notes aside.

Spoiler: he probably burned his hands with the kettle still hot because he kept feeling flattered and embarrassed.

Kalim's face lit up when he saw you enter the main room of Scarabia, promptly coming to give you a hug until you intervened, pointing at the coconut that was in your hands for him.

His eyes lit up when he saw your gift, quickly taking it and thanking several times with shining eyes.

When he noticed your bruised hands from the probable force applied to pierce the coconut, he quickly wrapped them up and promised he would take care of them (he had no idea how to help and asked Jamil for help).

Idia nodded at the sound of him bedroom door opening, realizing that it was you arriving to another afternoon of playing dubious games that were in promotion.

He didn't look as you walked over and squatted next to him, being very focused on the game's home screen.

You simply poked his arm, showing the bags that you had brought. When you saw his expression of confusion, you simply replied that you have brought his favorite sweets from Sam's store, and you wanted to know where to put them.

He pointed vaguely to a table in the corner, and as you turned around his flaming hair took on a strong pinkish color that matches his cheeks, with him clumsily trying hide with the hood.

You beamed into his office with a little smile on your face, seeing Azul look up from the paperwork he was working. A tired look, but with an inviting smile.

You hurried to promptly go to his table, putting the paperwork aside and placing the plate of fried chicken in front of him.

While you began an external monologue about how it wasn't healthy ignore the body's basic needs to focus solely on the job, Azul looked at you with a sleepy and loving look, unconsciousness of ear tips turning red, glad you care about his health and for bringing something that you knew would make him happy.

You once heard from Lilia about Sebek's favorite food, and when he invited you to debate and give your opinion on some books in the botanical garden, you thought it would be a good idea to cook.

While his eyes slightly widened, he sniffed the air and felt the aroma of the food; it reminded him of home in Briar Valley, when he fished with his siblings.

He gets really, really loud about it, speaking in his typically high tone as this brought memories of home, until he stops in the middle of a sentence and say how impressive it is that a mere human like you has made an acceptable carpaccio, while trying to hide the blush that marked his cheeks.

[dandelions-143]

Food Play - Felix

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Collaboration with @valkyriexo

Word Count: 2048k

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, sexual content, nudity, strong language

Authors note: With the hurricane hitting my area of the US hard I still don’t have proper WiFi and things like that so this was kind of rushed and not at all what I wanted it to be hopefully future ones will be better. Enjoy!

No summary just smut under the cut

You stepped into your shared apartment, the aroma of spices immediately enveloping you. Your long-time boyfriend Felix stood at the stove, his attention wholly focused on the sizzling pan before him. The tantalizing smell made your stomach growl in anticipation, a reminder of how long your workday had been.

Quietly slipping off your shoes, you padded across the living room towards the kitchen. Felix, engrossed in his cooking, hadn't noticed your arrival. You approached him from behind, gently wrapping your arms around his torso. "Mmm," you murmured, inhaling deeply, "what culinary masterpiece are you creating? It smells divine."

Felix turned slightly, a warm smile lighting up his face as he felt your embrace. "Ah, you're home," he said, his voice rich with affection. "I'm whipping up your favorite dish, with all the special touches you love. Why don't you take a moment to unwind? Dinner will be ready before you know it."

You couldn't resist planting a soft kiss on the nape of his neck, the faint scent of his vanilla shampoo tickling your nose pleasantly. Reluctantly, you disentangled yourself from him and headed to your shared bedroom to change. After slipping into your coziest outfit, you returned to find Felix putting the finishing touches on the table setting.

The sight before you took your breath away. The dishes were arranged with meticulous care, and Felix had even lit a few candles, casting a warm, intimate glow over the scene. "Felix, this is... incredible," you breathed, your heart swelling with love and appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

Felix's eyes sparkled with joy as he pulled out a chair for you. "I wanted tonight to be extra special," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "After the long day you've had, you deserve nothing but the best." As you settled into your seat, you couldn't help but plant a tender kiss on his cheek, overwhelmed by his gesture.

As Felix took his place opposite you, a comfortable conversation flowed between you, punctuated by appreciative comments about the delicious meal. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of candlelight and Felix's loving presence, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. This - coming home to such care and affection - was something truly special, a daily blessing you'd never take for granted.

Once you two had finished dinner, you began to get up. "I'll help you with cleaning up," you offered. Felix shook his head, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room, "No, my love. I have dessert for us." You settled back into your chair, curiosity piqued, as you watched your handsome boyfriend walk over to the fridge and pull out a decadent ice cream cake.

The cake was a vision of sweetness, adorned with plump, vibrant red strawberries nestled in swirls of creamy chocolate. "You made this?!" you asked, your voice filled with surprise and delight. Felix's laughter filled the air as he carefully placed the cake in front of you. "No," he admitted with a grin, "I picked it up not too long ago. But I know it's your favorite, and I wanted to treat you tonight." His thoughtfulness warmed your heart.

Felix paused for a moment, his expression shifting from playful to something more intense. He knelt on the ground before you, his hands sliding up your thighs with deliberate slowness. His fingertips came to rest just under the hem of your shorts, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through you.

"You can have your dessert while I have mine too," he murmured, his voice low and husky. You couldn't help but blush at his words, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your body. Felix's eyes locked onto yours, filled with a heady mixture of affection and playful intent. "Let's make tonight unforgettable," he whispered, his fingers tracing gentle, tantalizing patterns on your skin.

You took a moment to drink in the sight of him. He was so handsome, his long blond hair falling slightly into his eyes, giving him a roguish charm. The dusting of freckles across his cheeks only added to his endearing allure. You bit down on your bottom lip, your heart racing with anticipation. "What exactly did you have in mind?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and desire. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, gently brushing back his silky hair.

Felix's lips curved into a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well," he began, his voice thick with promise, "I thought we could start with this delicious cake." He reached over, plucking a plump strawberry from atop the cake. A dollop of rich chocolate ice cream clung to its surface. With deliberate slowness, he brought the fruit to your lips. The cold of the ice cream contrasted sharply with the warmth of his fingers as he gently smeared the remainder across your lips, leaving a trail of sweetness in its wake.

"Open," his deep voice commanded gently. You parted your lips obediently, anticipation coursing through you. Felix placed the strawberry in your mouth, his intense gaze never leaving yours as you savored its sweetness. The juicy fruit burst with flavor, mingling with the rich chocolate ice cream still lingering on your tongue.

"Good," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in closer. His warm breath tickled your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "Now it's my turn to taste." The intensity in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat, your body suddenly feeling feverish with desire.

Felix closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. The lingering sweetness of the strawberry and ice cream melded with his unique taste, creating an intoxicating blend. His tongue danced with yours, slow and deliberate, exploring every crevice of your mouth. The kiss was a perfect balance of tenderness and passion, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you entirely.

As he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, dark with desire but still asking silent permission. You answered him by gripping the front of his shirt tightly, pulling him back in for another searing kiss. This time, there was an urgency to it, a hunger that needed to be satiated.

When you both finally came up for air, Felix had somehow maneuvered himself between your parted thighs, fitting there as if he belonged. His hands pressed against the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You could see the remnants of chocolate ice cream on his lips from yours, a tempting sight that made you want to lean in and lick it off.

"I want to undress you." he stated, his voice still deep but incredibly gentle and sweet. The contrast between his passionate actions and his considerate words made your heart swell with affection.

You nodded, your breath hitching in anticipation. Felix's hands moved with tender precision as he began to undress you. His fingers grazed your skin with each piece of clothing he removed, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The cool air of the room kissed your newly exposed skin, heightening your sensitivity to his touch.

As each garment fell away, the intimacy between you deepened. Felix took his time, his eyes roaming over every inch of skin he uncovered, as if he were seeing you for the first time. His gaze was filled with a mixture of reverence and desire that made you feel both cherished and irresistibly sexy.

The moment felt incredibly special, a perfect blend of sensuality and emotional connection. As the last piece of clothing was discarded, you sat before him, completely bare and vulnerable. Yet, under Felix's loving gaze, you felt nothing but beautiful and desired.

His dark chocolate eyes roamed your body with a mixture of admiration and love, lingering on every curve and contour. He took his time, savoring every moment as if committing each detail to memory. The intensity of his gaze made your skin tingle, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "You're absolutely stunning," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine awe and affection. His fingertips ghosted along your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Felix then dipped his fingers into the cold cake, making sure to coat them well with the rich, creamy chocolate. With deliberate slowness, he placed his fingers between your exposed breasts, the sudden chill causing you to gasp softly. Your already hardened nipples tightened even more as he slid his cold, wet fingers over each one, leaving behind a trail of sweet chocolate. The contrast between the cold dessert and your heated skin sent a shiver down your spine.

Bringing his chocolate-coated fingers to your lips, Felix's eyes locked with yours, silently asking permission. You parted your lips obediently, allowing him to slowly press his fingers into your mouth. The rich taste of chocolate exploded on your tongue as you began to suck, your eyes never leaving his. He watched you intently, his lips parting slightly, his breathing becoming more labored. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, charged with an electric tension that made your heart race.

"My good girl," he mumbled, his Australian accent seeming even stronger now, his voice husky with desire. The praise sent a warm flutter through your stomach, heightening your arousal. Felix's eyes, dark with passion, never left yours as he leaned down, his warm breath fanning across your chest. The anticipation built as he hovered just above your skin, the heat of his proximity a stark contrast to the cool chocolate.

Finally, his tongue darted out, licking a long, slow stripe up your sternum. The sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your chilled skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Felix's touch was both tender and passionate, his movements deliberate as he cleaned every bit of chocolate from your skin. He took his time, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and gentle nibbles, ensuring not a drop of sweetness was left behind.

As he reached your breasts, Felix's movements grew more focused. He sucked tenderly at your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his lips and flicking them with his tongue. He paid both equal attention, his actions meticulous and thorough. Your back arched involuntarily in the chair, pressing your chest further into his mouth as your hands found purchase in his hair. You tugged gently at the silky strands, eliciting a low groan from Felix that vibrated against your skin.

His actions grew more intense, his tongue and lips working in tandem to draw soft moans from your throat. The mix of cold dessert and his warm mouth created a tantalizing contrast that left you breathless and wanting more. Each swipe of his tongue, each gentle suck sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, building a delicious tension low in your belly.

"You're so beautiful," Felix whispered against your skin, his voice filled with adoration. He punctuated his words with gentle kisses, trailing them along the slope of your breast and up to your collarbone. His hands continued to explore your body, mapping out every curve and contour as if it were the first time. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as his fingers traced patterns on your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The room felt charged with electricity, the air thick with desire and the sweet scent of chocolate. Every touch, every kiss from Felix sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, building a fire within you that threatened to consume you entirely. As he continued his loving exploration of your body, you knew that this night was far from over - it was just the beginning of what promised to be an unforgettable experience.

Taglist: the blogs in blue wouldn’t allow me to tag you

@rylea08 @syedazarintasnim @cashtonsbetch @pasaatimonarkin @tzeweiii05 @sincerely-sun @moonchild9350 @athforskz @babigriin @seunmong-in @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @bangchans-angel @salemluvsmusic @seungmincenteric @kpflyn @iovecb97 @juskz @sadrosessing @fawnpeaks @galaxy4489 @chuuyaobsessed @tirena1 @tsunderelino @kissesmellow21 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nightmarenyxx @simpforleeknaur @ririwhiskers @satosugu4l @mihoonz @hpnsfwaddict @redlightsrachaaa @mintymintmint251 @velvetmoonlght @minniesverse @everythingboutkpop @yaorzu-blog

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 17: A Man Possessed

GIF credit: @maikswen

Bearblr Promptober Day 17: Dumbification (Sub: Clueless)

Summary: Carmy has girlfriend (who he calls Darling) brainworms again, and he's even more of a disaster this time. (Or: the time Carmy had to leave work to go rail his girl)

Warnings: Smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (she has an IUD but Carmy's not writing that in his journal), Dom/Sub dynamic, calling Carmy "sir", hair pulling, obsessed thoughts, mild spiraling, fem reader/rando lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

If you want to keep following this set of works, you can follow the #cb journal tag.

Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

This is is a two-parter. The first part is here.

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

17 Oct 2024

I handled the second incident of Darling invading my brain much worse than the first.

I couldn’t fucking focus for five fucking minutes on anything. I was pissed off at life two minutes after opening, worse so when the place looked a fucking mess from the night before. Assholes couldn’t even clean up after themselves. I don’t even know how many times I lost track of what I was doing or why because my mind went to Darling instead of staying at The Bear. Here she was, burying her face in my t-shirt again, letting out that delicious sigh, the curve of her hip still visible under the blankets, and I wanted so badly to just grab her. To squeeze her flesh in my hands, dig my fingers into the round of her ass, to drown in her soft skin and her wet kisses to my throat. I wanted to bite her. I didn’t even know what to do with that—I just wanted to sink my teeth into the inside of her thigh before soothing her by putting my mouth to use elsewhere. Why? For what purpose? How does that make sense?

Syd must’ve noticed that I was off because she started helping with cleaning—didn’t even try to talk to me. I hate that, by the way; hate when I’m so far away that people don’t even find words worth giving me. I might not talk much, but if people don’t talk to me, I start feeling like a bug on the window; tiny, inconvenient, gross, unwanted, easily forgotten until I make an irritating sound.

I had to step out in the middle of cleaning—I hadn’t even gotten to prep yet, that’s how bad it was—and I found myself dragging my hand over the side of my neck and my throat. My heart throbbed with such violence that I wanted it to escape so I’d stop being harassed by it. My hands trembled, breaths got erratic. I heard her voice again, telling me to breathe, to find sounds around me, but it came through as static. The apple leaf adagio, the skittering of dried maple leaves, her body fits so perfectly in my hands, strawberry lip balm, what’s not to love? Fuck, that feels good, Carmy. More of that, pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Please call me pretty boy again, I’m begging you.

I struggled to make it through the rest of prep. I’m fairly sure Sydney figured out I was that same sort of fucked up again because she didn’t wait for me to fuck up a count or fail to give directions before taking over the reigns of the kitchen. I turned into a line cook, just mindlessly doing what was asked of me because it’s what I knew I could do without making a worse mess, and she had the rest under control.

Syd always had it under control; I was the one out of control.

Once again, near dinner service, just when I thought I’d be fine, I cracked under the pressure. I had stepped out to get a break from the relentless heat of the kitchen, try to get some air that wasn’t saturated with the aromas of food (it sounds nice, but trust me, when you’re hour 10 into inhaling sautéed onions, confit garlic, vinegar, cumin, black pepper, olive oil, it gets so deep into your lungs that you feel like you might cough up a prime rib steak). The snap of cold air on my face shattered the dam keeping any assertion of reality in check, and I was inundated with this… how do I even describe it? It wasn’t quite rage, but it wasn’t far from it. Like I needed Darling. I needed her so badly that if I didn’t have her, I was going to break something.

Possessed? Was I a man possessed?

I had this crawling sensation, yeah? Not quite like ants on my skin; the feeling was bigger, coarser. It started in my back, spread to my shoulders, blazed down my arms, into my hands. I clenched and relaxed my fists, trying to ward it off, but when that did nothing—and it did precisely nothing—I rubbed hard over my arms, dug my short fingernails into my skin in some faint approximation of what Darling’s nails felt like. When I thought about doing it again, even harder, hard enough to draw blood if I had to, I knew I was fucked.

I bailed on the kitchen staff again, but something tells me they would’ve hated me being there anyway.

“Sweetheart? You’re home early, what’s going on?”

She’s on the couch fiddling with yarn—I think it’s crochet? Or is it knitting? I don’t know the difference—and has the 2005 Pride and Prejudice on in the background at a low volume. I don’t even know if she can hear it with how quiet it is. I throw off my jacket, and that’s enough for her to figure out something is wrong. She puts the yarn thing on the arm of the couch and unfolds her legs to get up, but I can’t, okay, I cannot.

“No, you stay there.” I’m sorry, did I just tell her what to do? Who the fuck am I?

She froze and leveled a look at me that I can only describe as a deer in headlights. Entirely confused. Clueless. Maybe even scared.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” It’s tiny. High in her throat.

She follows my face with those big eyes as I approach. It’s weird that it didn’t bother me then. It bothers me now, thinking about it, that she was probably confused as all hell and I should’ve stopped to talk to her, but clearly, I was on one. Or something. That crawling sensation was worse, and overwhelmed by the need, the sheer fucking need to taste her. Taste that strawberry lip balm, lap at her tongue, to occupy my mouth with soft, warm wetness. Fuck me, she was wearing my t-shirt, too.

She squeaked in surprise when I crashed our lips together. Immediately shot her hand to my forearm when one of mine blanketed over her throat. The other seized a fistful of her hair, and she grabbed at my wrist. Probably startled. It bothers me that I didn’t care at the time.

“Open,” I growled.

She obeyed immediately, relented control to let me explore her mouth, and wove her hands into my hair. Fucking hell, I needed that. I was starved of her, plagued with memories of her taste for 10 entire fucking hours—fuck I needed her, all of her, I needed her hands under my skin, goddammit. I pushed her down onto the couch, wrenched her knees apart, and settled between them. She tugged my hair in surprise and then coiled her legs around me.

“Pull harder.”

“Harder? Carmy—”

I used my grip on her hair to tip her head back and aim a glare at her. “I said pull. Fucking. Harder.”

She whimpered and did what I asked. My eyes drifted shut against my will at the tension on my hair—not painful, a sort of raw pleasurable that only pain could seem to bring in that moment. It was too fucking warm. It was boiling again. Why is it always so fucking warm? It was almost as if she could hear my thoughts because she yanked my shirt up and off. I went right back to attacking her with kisses. She hooked a leg high up on my waist and tightened it—have I mentioned how fucking strong she is? College soccer player. She’s really fucking strong.—and it was enough to trigger the ache in my back and force me to pause for a moment with my lips at her neck.

“Carmy,” she gasped, “tell me where your head is, sweetheart.”

Her sounding breathless shouldn’t’ve made me feel powerful.

I yanked off her shirt. May have torn a hook off her bra when I wrested it off her. Whatever, I’d buy her a new one.

“Carmy, I need you to talk—” I cut her off with more fervent kisses. She patted my chest, squeezed her legs again. “Hey, pretty boy.”

That got me to freeze and meet her gaze. She rubbed small circles over my chest.

“Hi… hi, sweetheart.”

“Couldn’t—” Fuck me, I could barely think. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Her confusion was replaced with a wide-eyed expression.

I ducked down to continue that hickey on her neck. I needed to leave some kind of mark on her. What the hell was going on with me? She trailed a hand down my abdomen and rested it on the bulge in my pants. Took her about two heartbeats to start fumbling with my fly. This wave of cool relief washed over me—don’t know what or why it was about—but it was brief, just a momentary breather in the flames of arousal consuming me. She got me free of my pants and underwear, kissed my temple.

“That better, hm?” Was she really trying to soothe me right now?

Did she not see the animal trying not to devour her?

It occurs to me now that I might’ve genuinely scarred her when I stared her down in response. She froze, searched my face, darted her gaze between my mouth and my eyes repeatedly. Had shaky, jerky movements when trying to shove off her sweatpants. It was odd that she wasn’t speaking. She tends to talk. Her voice is pretty soothing, honestly. At first, something of a regular check in and reassurance for me to know that I wasn’t fucking up, but now a familiar, comfortable, soothing riff in the soundtrack of our lives together. Of course, at the time, I didn’t register any of this because I just needed to be inside her already.

She tensed up when I hiked her leg up my side. Babbled frantically into my mouth, “C-Carmy? Carmy, be gentle. Please be gentle—oh fuck!”

How gentle do you think a wild animal can be, baby girl?

She was unimaginably tight but also impossibly wet. My head spun and it took every last frayed fiber of wherewithal to not immediately sink into her cunt as deep as I could. Forget thinking straight, forget thinking about anything other than the tight, wet heat enveloping my dick. I was pussy drunk already, and I just barely got started.

She dug her nails into my back, had one hand on my abdomen digging into my muscle. “Baby! Baby, please, slow down… fuck, that’s so good, but please—”

“You can take it,” I snarled into her ear.

She took a second, but then withdrew the hand pushing on me and busied it with my hair instead. Mumbled a small, “Y-yes, sir.”

Sir?

She moaned something of a pitiful sound when I got to work. Whatever that version of me was, it wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t seem to care. She hiked her leg up higher when I hit her deep, begged for more, clung to me tighter when I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and did just that, mumbled praises in my ear as I relentlessly fucked her through her orgasm. Good boy; that’s it, you’re making me feel so good; fuck, baby, I’m so full; I can take more, keep going. It crossed the rat’s nest of busted wires in my brain further. All I can remember is this raw, unfiltered, white-hot pleasure burning a chasm into my core, this tension winding so tight I couldn’t get enough air in. Braided steel cable creaking under a construction load? How do I describe this? Tightening rubber band? No.

Sinew tensioning as a dull knife dug into it. That’s an apt descriptor. Like with the ice cubes in the kitchen that first time. Only all-consuming, raw, visceral, centered on her—her scent, her heat, her strained breaths, her wetness, her taste. 

I hid my face in the crook of her neck when I was right on the edge.

Her lips brushed my ear. Her voice was strained but still the same kind of soothing to my soul. “Come on, sweetheart. Let go… Cum, pretty boy…”

I clutched her like a drowning man when my orgasm finally hit me. It knocked the air out of my lungs, killed a scream in my throat, set off a thrumming sound in my ears, first bathed me in flames and then abruptly flooded ice water through my veins. My abdomen screamed from how violently it spasmed, the muscles in my back seized up. Everything stopped. Everything—never in my life had my entire existence been so blank, so empty, so quiet, so at peace. I might even have blacked out for a bit (or my memory is just as shit as it’s always been) because the next thing I remember is slow, gentle caresses over my face, neck, chest, shoulder, then back up to my face to repeat the circuit. Her lips pressed to my hairline at intervals. My eyelashes brushed her neck while I tried to blink the cobwebs away.

“You with me, sweetheart?”

Nope. Not even close. I don’t even know what planet I’m on right now.

She smoothed my sweaty hair back off my face. Planted another kiss to my temple. “That’s okay. You’re safe. Take your time.”

This is going too well, right? She’s too perfect. God’s a sadist; that other shoe is going to return from orbit, and because I am willing to give my whole being to this woman, it will kill me. This love will kill me.

[wonyowonyo]

Flavors of Love (M. Sana X M! Reader)

My first 3rd Gen Girlgroup oneshots, and it's none other than my lovely bias Sana! Nothing much to say here, and as always hope you all enjoy this one!

The bustling urban neighborhood was alive with the clamor of a thousand voices and the mouth-watering aromas of street food. Amid the chaos stood two food trucks, locked in a fierce battle for culinary supremacy. On one side was Sana's 'Sweet Eats,' a vibrant truck adorned with pastel colors and whimsical designs, offering the most delectable desserts. On the other side was Y/N's 'Savory Bites,' a sleek and modern truck serving up irresistible snacks that could make anyone's mouth water.

Sana and Y/N were the talk of the town. Their rivalry had become legendary, with each trying to outdo the other in flavor, presentation, and customer service. Sana's desserts were a symphony of sweetness, with intricate decorations and bold flavors that left customers in awe. Y/N's snacks were a carnival of savory delights, with perfectly balanced spices and innovative combinations that kept people coming back for more.

Despite their differences, the two had one thing in common: their unwavering passion for food.

It was early morning, and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Sana was already hard at work, preparing her famous macarons. Her assistant, Momo, a bubbly young woman with a passion for baking, was by her side.

"Morning, Sana! Ready to take on Y/N today?" Momo asked with a grin.

Sana smirked. "Always. We have to make sure our desserts are perfect. The customers expect nothing less."

Just across the street, Y/N was busy prepping his ingredients for the day. His best friend and sous-chef, Eunwoo, was helping him chop vegetables for their signature sliders.

"Think we can beat Sana today, Y/N?" Eunwoo asked, glancing over at the pastel-colored truck.

Y/N chuckled. "We don't need to beat her, Eunwoo. We just need to be the best at what we do. Our food will speak for itself."

As the day progressed, the lunch crowd began to gather. People lined up at both trucks, eager to taste the delicious offerings.

"Two chocolate lava cakes and a strawberry tart, please," a customer ordered at Sana's truck.

"Coming right up!" Sana replied with a smile, her hands moving deftly to prepare the order.

Over at Y/N's truck, a group of friends was debating which snacks to try.

"Those sliders look amazing," one of them said.

"Yeah, and I've heard the spicy wings are to die for," another added.

Y/N overheard and grinned. "Why not try both? I promise you won't be disappointed."

The friends laughed and placed their order, excited to taste Y/N's creations.

By mid-afternoon, the competition between Sana and Y/N was in full swing. The aroma of sweet and savory delights filled the air, drawing even more customers.

Sana glanced over at Y/N's truck and noticed the long line of people waiting. She frowned and turned to Momo.

"We need to step it up, Momo. Let's bring out the new recipe for the salted caramel cupcakes."

Momo nodded and quickly got to work, her hands flying as she mixed the ingredients.

Meanwhile, Eunwoo was helping Y/N plate their famous nachos when he noticed Sana's truck bustling with activity.

"Looks like Sana's got something new," Eunwoo said, nodding towards 'Sweet Eats.'

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Let's see if we can surprise her with our new truffle fries."

As the evening approached, the rivalry between the two food trucks became more evident. Sana and Y/N exchanged glances and smirks, each determined to outdo the other.

During a brief lull, Y/N decided to approach Sana's truck. He leaned against the counter, a playful grin on his face.

"Hey, Sana. Heard you got something new today. Trying to keep up with me?" he teased.

Sana rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. "In your dreams, Y/N. My salted caramel cupcakes are going to be the talk of the town."

Y/N chuckled. "We'll see about that. Just wait until you try my truffle fries."

Momo watched the exchange with amusement. "You two are like an old married couple," she said, laughing.

Sana and Y/N both blushed and quickly looked away, their competitive facade momentarily cracking.

Among their regular customers were Mr. and Mrs. Kim, an elderly couple who had lived in the neighborhood for decades. They were well-known for their friendly demeanor and love for good food.

"Good evening, Sana dear," Mrs. Kim greeted as she approached 'Sweet Eats.' "We'll have our usual, please."

"Of course, Mrs. Kim. Two lemon meringue pies coming right up," Sana replied warmly.

Over at 'Savory Bites,' Mr. Kim was chatting with Y/N.

"You know, young man, I think your sliders are the best in the city," he said with a wink.

"Thanks, Mr. Kim. That means a lot," Y/N replied, genuinely touched.

The Kims were just two of the many regulars who frequented both trucks, enjoying the delicious food and the friendly rivalry between Sana and Y/N.

As the day came to a close, both food trucks began to wind down. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood. Sana and Y/N were exhausted but satisfied with their day's work.

Momo and Eunwoo were chatting nearby, discussing the day's events.

"Do you think they'll ever admit they like each other?" Momo asked, glancing at Sana and Y/N.

Eunwoo laughed. "Not a chance. They're both too stubborn. But it's fun to watch them dance around it."

Sana and Y/N exchanged a look, both aware of the unspoken connection between them. Despite their rivalry, there was a mutual respect and understanding that went beyond their competitive banter.

As they packed up for the night, Sana approached Y/N's truck one last time.

"Good job today, Y/N. Your truffle fries were amazing," she said sincerely.

Y/N smiled. "Thanks, Sana. Your salted caramel cupcakes were pretty incredible too."

They stood there for a moment, the tension between them easing. For now, the rivalry was set aside, replaced by a shared appreciation for each other's talent.

As they parted ways, both Sana and Y/N couldn't help but wonder what the future held for their food trucks—and for their unexpected connection.

————————————————————

The annual food festival was the highlight of the year for the neighborhood. Food trucks from all over the city gathered to showcase their best dishes, and the competition for the 'Best Food Truck' title was fierce. Sana and Y/N had been preparing for weeks, each determined to claim the coveted prize.

The festival was in full swing, with music playing, people laughing, and the smell of delicious food filling the air. Sana's 'Sweet Eats' was a hit, with people lining up for her famous macarons and decadent chocolate cakes. Y/N's 'Savory Bites' was no less popular, with his signature sliders and spicy wings drawing crowds.

The rivalry between Sana and Y/N was on full display. They exchanged glares and snarky comments, each trying to outshine the other. But beneath the surface, there was a grudging respect for each other's talent and dedication.

The morning of the food festival was a flurry of activity. Sana and Momo were setting up their display, making sure every dessert was perfectly arranged.

"Make sure those macarons are front and center, Momo. They need to catch people's eyes," Sana instructed.

Momo nodded, adjusting the trays. "You got it, boss. We're going to knock their socks off."

Across the festival grounds, Y/N and Eunwoo were busy grilling sliders and arranging their signature spicy wings.

"Think we're ready, Eunwoo?" Y/N asked, wiping his brow.

Eunwoo grinned. "Ready as we'll ever be. Let's show them what 'Savory Bites' is all about."

As the festival progressed, the judges began making their rounds. This year, the panel included renowned food critic, Elena Martinez, local celebrity chef, Marcus Lee, and the beloved neighborhood mayor, Mrs. Robinson.

Elena was the first to visit 'Sweet Eats.' She sampled a macaron, her eyes closing in appreciation. "Exquisite. The texture is perfect, and the flavors are bold yet balanced."

Sana beamed. "Thank you, Ms. Martinez. We strive for perfection."

Next, the judges moved to 'Savory Bites.' Marcus took a bite of a slider, his expression thoughtful. "Impressive. The spices are perfectly balanced, and the meat is tender and juicy."

Y/N nodded. "We use a special blend of spices to enhance the flavor."

As the evening wore on, Sana noticed the judges heading towards Y/N's truck again. She frowned, feeling a pang of anxiety. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she approached Y/N's truck.

"Hey, Y/N. How about a friendly wager?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "What kind of wager?"

"Whoever wins the 'Best Food Truck' title has to treat the other to dinner," Sana suggested, a challenge in her voice.

Y/N smirked. "You're on, Sana. Get ready to lose."

Just as the festival was reaching its peak, disaster struck. The entire area was plunged into darkness due to a sudden power outage. Panic spread through the crowd, but the food trucks had backup generators that kicked in, providing some relief.

However, the storage tent where all the supplies were kept was not so lucky. Sana and Y/N found themselves trapped inside, surrounded by boxes of ingredients and supplies.

"Great, just what I needed," Sana muttered, folding her arms and leaning against a stack of flour bags.

"Yeah, because being stuck with you is my idea of a good time," Y/N shot back, rolling his eyes.

Sana shot him a glare. "You could lighten up a bit, you know."

"Me? Lighten up? That’s rich coming from you," he quipped, crossing his arms defiantly.

They stood in silence for a while, the only sound the distant murmur of people outside and the occasional creak of the tent.

After what felt like an eternity, Sana broke the silence. "So, why food trucks? Why not a restaurant or something?"

Y/N glanced at her, surprised by the question. "I like the freedom. No fixed location, no overhead costs. Plus, I get to meet new people every day. What about you?"

Sana shrugged. "Same here, I guess. I love the creativity and the challenge. Every day is different, and I get to make people happy with my desserts."

"Even when it means competing against me?" he teased.

"Especially when it means competing against you!" she shot back with a laugh.

They both chuckled, the initial hostility giving way to a tentative truce.

As the night wore on, they began to talk more freely. They shared stories of their early days in the business, the challenges they had faced, and their dreams for the future.

Sana leaned back against a crate, her eyes sparkling. "I dream of opening a bakery one day, a cozy spot where people can come and enjoy my desserts. Something special."

"That sounds amazing, Sana. You’d make it a warm, inviting place," Y/N said, genuinely impressed.

Y/N spoke of his desire to start a culinary school, where he could teach others the art of cooking and inspire the next generation of chefs.

"Teaching is a big responsibility," Sana mused. "You really think you could handle it?"

"I could if I had a great assistant," he winked, causing her to laugh again.

To their surprise, they found that they had a lot in common. They both came from humble beginnings, had worked hard to get where they were, and were driven by a deep love for food.

As they talked, the atmosphere in the tent began to change. The rivalry that had defined their relationship started to fade, replaced by a growing connection. They laughed and joked, shared their hopes and fears, and found comfort in each other's company.

At one point, Sana reached for a box of supplies and accidentally brushed against Y/N's hand. They both froze, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through them.

"Sorry," Sana said, pulling back quickly, her cheeks flushing.

"It's okay," Y/N replied, his voice softer than usual. He could feel his heart racing.

Sana’s gaze fell to the ground for a moment before she looked back up at him. "You know, you’re not as unbearable as I thought."

Y/N smirked. "And you’re not as sweet as your desserts."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world outside the tent seemed to disappear. There was something there, something that neither of them had expected but could no longer ignore.

Just as quickly as it had gone out, the power came back on, flooding the tent with light. Sana and Y/N blinked in the sudden brightness, the spell broken.

"Well, there goes our moment," Sana said, her voice laced with disappointment.

"Yeah, back to reality," Y/N sighed, forcing a grin. They quickly gathered their supplies, the mood shifting again as they realized what had just happened.

As they stepped out of the tent, the festival atmosphere buzzed with life once more. But the tension between them had transformed; the fierce competition was now mixed with an undeniable chemistry.

————————————————————

The days following the festival were filled with hilarious and heartwarming encounters as Sana and Y/N tried to navigate their new dynamic. They still competed fiercely, each trying to outdo the other, but there was a new layer to their interactions.

One afternoon, while setting up for lunch, Sana caught Y/N glancing at her. She smiled and waved. "Enjoying the view?"

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. "You wish! I was just... checking on my competition."

"Right, keep telling yourself that," she teased back.

They found themselves thinking about each other more often, wondering what the other was doing, and looking for excuses to talk. Their banter became more playful, their glances lingered a little longer, and their rivalry took on a new, more personal dimension.

However, confusion and mixed signals abounded. One day, Sana might seem distant, focusing solely on her work, while the next, she’d be laughing at Y/N’s jokes and leaning in a little too close.

One day, as they both waited in line for coffee, Y/N caught her eye. "What’s it gonna be today, Sana? Another one of those fancy frappes?"

Sana smirked, crossing her arms. "Actually, I was thinking of getting a plain black coffee. You know, to fuel my superior baking skills."

"Plain coffee for plain competition?" Y/N shot back playfully.

Sana leaned closer, a mock-serious expression on her face. "Don’t underestimate the power of simplicity."

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the familiar spark ignite again. But as they bantered, an undercurrent of tension lingered, complicating their every interaction.

However, confusion and mixed signals abounded. One day, Sana might seem distant, focusing solely on her work, while the next, she’d be laughing at Y/N’s jokes and leaning in a little too close. Y/N, too, found himself caught between wanting to keep things professional and feeling an undeniable pull towards Sana.

————————————————————

Enter Mina, a charismatic food blogger with a massive following. Mina had heard about the legendary rivalry between 'Sweet Eats' and 'Savory Bites' and decided to feature them both on their blog.

"Hey, Sana! Hey, Y/N! I'm Mina, and I run 'Foodie Frenzy.' I'd love to do a feature on both of your trucks. How about a joint interview?" Mina suggested, a camera in hand.

Sana and Y/N exchanged a look, the idea of working together both exciting and nerve-wracking.

"Sure, Mina. We'd love to," Sana said, her competitive spirit shining through.

"Let's do it," Y/N agreed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

The joint interview turned out to be a huge success. Mina's questions were insightful, and their followers loved the dynamic between Sana and Y/N. The interview ended with a challenge: Mina asked them to create a fusion dish together, combining their strengths.

"Why not?" Sana said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It could be fun."

Y/N nodded. "Let's show them what we can do."

They spent the next few weeks working together, experimenting with different flavors and techniques. They argued and laughed, challenged each other and supported each other, and in the process, grew closer than ever.

But the closer they got, the more complicated their feelings became. Sana found herself getting jealous when Y/N talked to other women, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation when Sana seemed overly friendly with male customers. Their confusion and mixed signals reached a peak one evening after a particularly heated argument over a recipe.

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?" Sana exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Me? You're the one who insists on doing everything your way!" Y/N shot back, his eyes blazing.

They stood there, breathing heavily, the tension between them almost tangible. Suddenly, Y/N stepped closer, his voice softer. "Sana, why do we keep fighting like this? There's something here, something more than just competition."

Sana's eyes widened, her heart pounding. She opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, the words stuck in her throat. "I... I don't know, Y/N. Maybe we're just too different."

Y/N looked at her, his expression pained. "Maybe. Or maybe we're just scared to admit how we really feel."

The following days were filled with awkward silences and longing glances. Both Sana and Y/N found themselves replaying their argument, questioning their feelings and what it meant for their future.

One night, Sana couldn't sleep. She decided to take a walk and found herself outside Y/N's food truck. To her surprise, the lights were on. She hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door.

Y/N opened the door, looking surprised but pleased to see her. "Sana, what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about what you said," Sana confessed, her voice trembling. "You're right. There's something here, something I've been too scared to admit."

Y/N stepped aside, letting her in. "I've been thinking about it too. Sana, I... I think I'm falling for you."

Sana looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. "I think I am too, Y/N. But what if it doesn't work out? What if we ruin everything?"

Y/N took her hands in his, his gaze steady. "We'll never know unless we try. I don't want to spend another day wondering what could have been."

With that, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a gentle, tender kiss that sealed their newfound connection.

As their relationship blossomed, Sana and Y/N began to dream of a future together. One night, as they sat in a cozy café, Y/N brought up an idea.

"Sana, what if we combined our talents and opened a place together? A bakery and snack shop where we can create amazing fusion dishes and share our passion with the world."

Sana's eyes lit up with excitement. "Y/N, that sounds incredible! 'Sweet & Savory Bites'... a place where we can be partners in every sense."

The next few months were a whirlwind of activity as Sana and Y/N poured their hearts and souls into establishing 'Sweet & Savory Bites.' They found the perfect location in a bustling neighborhood, renovated the space to reflect their combined styles, and crafted a menu that showcased their unique blend of flavors.

They worked tirelessly, supporting each other through the challenges and celebrating each milestone together. Their friends and family rallied around them, offering help and encouragement every step of the way.

————————————————————

A year later, Sana and Y/N stood outside their brand new establishment: 'Sweet & Savory Bites,' a combination bakery and snack shop that had quickly become the go-to spot in the neighborhood. Their dreams had merged into one, and the community had embraced their unique blend of flavors and their inspiring story.

As they cut the ribbon, surrounded by friends, family, and loyal customers, Sana and Y/N exchanged a look that spoke volumes. Their journey had been filled with competition, collaboration, and connection, and it was only just beginning.

"Here's to sweet and savory," Y/N said, raising a glass.

"To sweet and savory," Sana echoed, clinking her glass against his.

And with that, they stepped into their future, together.

[meazalykov]

acts of service

sydney lohmann x bayern!reader

summary: you and your girlfriend's love languages revolve around words of affirmation and acts of service

opening your eyes, you took a few moments to move your head up. seeing that the orange retro clock on your bedside table says “6:45 AM”, you smacked your head back onto the soft pillow and closed your eyes. you didn’t need to wake up for another hour. training for the pre-season starts at ten o’clock so you wanted all of the sleep that you could get. 

it wasn’t five minutes until you closed your eyes that you flipped your body to its side. usually, your leg would come into contact with your girlfriend's leg while doing this in the morning. so, when your leg landed onto the soft mattress instead, your eyes shot open-- seeing an open space. 

sydney isn’t the girlfriend that will wake up first in the mornings, its always you. this wasn’t normal, so you moved your tired body to sit up.

your hands moved to rub your eyes before you heard the front door in the apartment close shut from the living room. 

your eyebrows knitted together, knowing that sydney must’ve left to go somewhere or she is coming back from somewhere. she didn’t leave too long ago, as you woke up to use the bathroom at 5:00am and saw sydney sleeping.

as you take the pink comforter off of your body, you hear footsteps approaching the room along with the aroma of your favorite breakfast wafting through the air. 

your legs were on the edge of the bed as sydney stops in the doorway with a surprised look--- she is surprised to see you awake. 

you looked at the brown paper bag in her right hand with suspicion as syd had a grin on her face. in her left hand, sydney held a 2-drink cup carrier with two drinks placed inside of them. 

“baby, did you really just-?” you cut yourself off as you stood up in front of her, surprised at the gesture. you took the drink carrier out of her left hand as she moved to the other side of the large bedroom to grab the two bed trays you guys keep in the closets. 

“yes i did!!” sydney said excitedly, which surprised you because the clock turned to 7am and usually sydney isn’t too energized this early. 

you look down at the two drinks to see two iced lattes. one was a bit darker than the lighter one with strawberry cold foam on top of it. that one is yours, considering that sydney knows your order for the cafe on the corner of the same street you both live on. 

sydney pulls out the food in the bag and you notice both of your favorite orders being sat on the bed trays. 

the german girl usually orders an avocado toast topped with hard-boiled egg and a plain croissant. you get a plain croissant too, along with a plain bagel with light cream cheese. 

the golden morning light filters through the ivory colored curtains, casting a warm glow over both of your features as you start to eat.

"i forgot to tell you good morning, sleepyhead," she starts to speak, her voice a melodic whisper. 

“good morning, early bird,” you joked. this is a joke that started between the both of you even before you guys started a relationship two years ago. 

everytime you woke up before her, which was everyday until this morning, she called you an early-bird because you were fully awake by the time she would wake up. most times, you’d have to force her to wake up with you so you aren’t late to training or games with bayern. 

it looks like the roles switched this morning.

"I thought I'd surprise you when I saw that you were still asleep." sydney blushed as she looked at you sipping on the strawberry latte. it was made perfectly. 

"this tastes amazing, but you’re even more amazing for this," you murmur, placing the iced drink down and stretching your tired arms before smiling at your girlfriend with tons of love in your eyes. "I don't know how you always know exactly what I need."

sydney laughs softly. "it's a gift. now, eat. we've gotta go training soon."

you spend the morning together, savoring each bite and sip. the intimacy of the moment is a reminder of why you love her so deeply. this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, it's almost a weekly thing. most of the time its you going down to the cafe and picking up sydney’s iced hazelnut latte though. 

a week later, shortly after the first game of the season, sydney fell ill. her usual happy energy was diminished by a fever and sore throat. you both share an apartment, so you’re more than prepared and determined to take care of her.

sydney can be a little stubborn. at first, she said she was fine but you made her rest after taking medicine (given by the doctors at bayern) so she will feel better.

its been an hour since she fell asleep in a nap--- you start chores in the kitchen by tackling the dishes piled high in the sink, the clinking of plates and running water calms your mind as your tv in the living room serves as a nice background noise. next, you move on to do the laundry. 

usually, sydney has a huge preference of doing the laundry while you tackle the dishes. both of you share the same clothes in the huge closet in the bedroom– so you chose to do all of the laundry this time to make her life easier. 

in the laundry room– you threw most of the clothes in the washer and looked in the cabinets where you keep the detergents and other things. sydney likes to use the vanilla scented fabric beads for the washer– while you like the fresh clean scented ones– so you chose to use the vanilla beads with the regular laundry detergent. 

you have to come back and do another two loads, considering how much clothes you and sydney own, so you sort out all of the jerseys and training gear, placing them in a pile so you’re prepared to wash those too after the first load is finished.

when you go to check on sydney in the bedroom, you find her awake. she has the tv on and is watching one of her favorite netflix movies. you felt terrible, sydney is shivering and you hated to see your sunshine so miserable while being sick. 

“hey sweetheart.” you sat on the edge of the bed and ran your hands through sydney’s soft, yet tangled, hair. you felt terrible and knew you had to get sydney cleaned up. 

"i know you might not like this but let’s get you cleaned up, sunshine. it might help you feel better." you say softly. due to her sore throat, she can’t speak much without irritation. you understand as you pull the pink comforter off of her body, helping the taller girl stand up as you led her into the bathroom ten steps away. 

you undress the woman who was just settled into a sports bra and shorts before. you take your hands and help her into the shower, supporting her weight as the warm water cascades down her body. 

first, you let her sit down as you started to wash her hair first. this step takes about 20 minutes, since you mainly gave her head massages while cleaning her scalp. after saturating one of your hydrating hair masks into her hair, you helped her stand up in the warm (not hot) shower.

next, you take the antibacterial soap as you started to wash away the sweat and sickness from her body. 

as you take the silicone scrub and clean her body, you rub her back and murmur comforting words, feeling her sick body relax under your touch.

after double cleansing her body with her favorite citrus scented soap, you washed the hair mask out of her hair and helped her sit back down. you plugged the tub and allowed the water to run, adding a few of her favorite essential oils and bubble bath soap that will calm her body and mind. 

you didn’t notice– or care– that your entire front side is soaked. you didn’t get into the shower and bath with her, but you allowed her wet body to hold onto your clothed body. your blue shirt sticks to your front due to how soaked it is, along with your white pajama shorts, but you didn’t care. 

sydney stayed close to the edge of the tub as she held onto you. you sat on your knees outside of the tub and cuddled with your arms wrapped around her body. 

this might’ve been dumb, considering that you can catch her sickness next and miss out on the next game against slavia praha– you couldn’t care less knowing that your sweetheart is sick. 

"you're too good to me," you hear sydney whisper, her voice weak but filled with gratitude as she felt your small kisses on the back of her shoulder.

"you're everything to me syd," you reply, moving your body over so you could kiss her cheek. "i’d do anything for you."

two weeks later– it was the evening on a day off from soccer-related stuff. sydney started to get over her sickness a week prior, so she is back to normal. 

as you both sit in the living room, with you on the floor in-between sydney’s legs on the couch— sydney’s fingers weave through your hair with practiced ease. 

"hold still," she instructed as your head looked up at the TV playing mean girls. the german is concentrating on forming perfect french braids in your hair. you feel her breath against the top of your head, her presence is calming. the gentle tugging and twisting of your hair is almost meditative, each braid giving a symbol of her love and care.

when anybody plays with your hair, your body goes into relaxation. since it's sydney playing with your hair, you could’ve fallen asleep right here. your eyes continue to close and shut as sydney continues to move her fingers in your hair.

"why do you always braid my hair?" you ask softly, smiling at the thought with your eyes closed in relaxation. 

during games for bayern, you’re an attacking midfielder– or a forward if someone is injured– who is considered to be one of the best. 

many pictures taken of you during games capture you with nice french braids in your hair– or with a low ponytail that's braided. sydney is the hairstylist behind those braids which made her so happy seeing you on the pitch with them nicely finished.

"because i love your hair– it's so soft, and i know it makes you relax." she replies simply as she ties together the first braid. 

a month later-- after a particularly harsh game at bayern, with sydney getting into a fight with a ref that gave her a yellow card– you both return home. 

her shoulders are slumped and her eyes are filled with frustration as her mind replayed the moment when she got a yellow card. 

you got a yellow card too earlier in that game, after failing to side tackle a ball– and hitting the wolfsburg forwards ankles instead– but you brushed it off as a mistake. however, you can see the weight of her bad moment pressing down on her. 

in the car and in the locker room you gave her space– now you’re back home. without a word, you wrap your arms around her on the couch, pulling her into a tight embrace. sydney melts into you, her facade cracking as she lets out a shuddering breath.

you held her hand and caressed her face with your fingers. "talk to me," you urge gently. sydney used to have a thing for holding her thoughts inside of her mind until they exploded. now, she is aware that she can talk to you about anything. 

“i’m so mad! the ref saw that she pushed me first, so why did i get the yellow card while she was able to walk away with no consequences.” sydney begins to unload, her words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. 

by “she”, sydney is referring to a wolfsburg defender who pushed her from behind as she tried to pass a ball to you. you listen intently, knowing that sydney is telling the truth. as you watched sydney fall to the ground, all of your teammates ran over to the ref and demanded a foul and yellow card for the player’s action. 

you on the other hand, you ran over to help sydney up from the ground. she acknowledged your support but jogged over to the ref. the conversation was short but got heated quickly. your eyes widened when you saw the ref pull out the yellow card looking at sydney.

as sydney continued to talk, you offered words of reassurance and understanding. sometimes, refs make the calls you don’t like– and all you can do is move on. 

after getting her to calm down by cuddling on the couch and watching the women’s el clasico match on live television, sydney spoke out randomly as the game paused for halftime. 

"y/n, i feel a lot better after talking about what happened. thank you– you're always here for me," she murmurs, her head resting on your shoulder as she gives you a kiss on your neck. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"you don’t have to thank me baby, it's what i love to do– and you'll never have to find out what it's like without me," you promise, stroking her hair. "we're in this together, forever and always."

<3

[hynzsn]

★ CHAPTER ONE: BERRY BEST BEGINNING ★

chapter one of ₊˚ ꒰ 𖦹﹕STRAWBERRY KISSES ꒱ ˚₊

☆ choi soobin x male reader

-> sunshine baker!soobin x grumpy (secretly soft) farmer!reader

꩜ .ᐟ fluff

contents: loosely inspired by strawberry shortcake (tv show), opposites attract, m/m, strawberries, romance, slice of life, slight enemies to lovers (at least grumpy x sunshine potential), humor, bakery, farm, forced proximity, small town setting, mutual pining (brewing already!), summer, summer vibes, lighthearted & sweet, slow burn, feel good, height difference, summer berry festival, awkward encounters, did someone say strawberries?

wc: 2.3k

summary: meet soobin, the sunshine baker known for his award-winning pastries and infectious laugh. his bakery, "crumbs & co.," is the heart of shortcake springs, especially during the annual summer berry festival. but disaster strikes – he's out of strawberries, his star ingredient! enter you, the gruff but handsome owner of "sun-kissed berries," known for your organic, mouthwatering produce. soobin, desperate and flustered, begs you for help. you, initially hesitant due to the last-minute request and your own demanding schedule, is charmed by soobin’s passion and agrees to help, setting the stage for a week of unexpected collaboration.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

welcome to shortcake springs, a place where life was as sweet and satisfying as a perfectly crafted strawberry shortcake. nestled amidst rolling hills and fields bursting with color, the town was a patchwork of charm and rustic elegance. the air, always tinted with the sweetness of ripening berries, carried the laughter of children playing in the town square, a space as inviting and comforting as a fluffy biscuit base. quaint brick buildings, their faces adorned with overflowing flower boxes, lined main street, each shop a treasure trove of local delights, much like the hidden pockets of juicy strawberries within a well-made shortcake.

and just like the crowning dollop of whipped cream, the annual summer berry festival was the pinnacle of the town's year, a celebration of all things fruity and joyful. it was a time for neighbors to come together, for traditions to be shared, and for the air to be filled with the irresistible aroma of freshly baked dreams.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the aroma of baking bread and simmering fruit usually heralded the dawn in this quaint corner of the world. but today, a different kind of energy crackled through the air - a blend of rising panic and the sweet, sharp scent of desperation. it clung to choi soobin like a fine dusting of flour as he frantically rummaged through his walk-in refrigerator.

"no, no, no!" the word escaped him, a low groan that echoed off the stainless steel shelves, starkly contrasting with his usually disposition. his bakery, "crumbs & co," was a symphony of warmth and light, the kind of place where worries melted away with the first bite of a blueberry muffin. but right now, the only thing melting was soobin's composure.

he was out of strawberries. completely, utterly, devastatingly out. and not just any strawberries - these were the plump, ruby-red jewels destined for his legendary strawberry shortcake, the crown jewel of the annual summer berry festival, just a week away.

"okay, soobin, think," he muttered, pushing a hand through his already-tousled hair. he looked like a classic storybook baker, flour-dusted apron slightly askew, a smudge of strawberry jam on his cheek, and eyes wide with a mixture of distress and determination. "who has the best damn strawberries within a fifty-mile radius?"

the answer, as clear and bright as the summer sky outside, slammed into him like a runaway pie cart. it was a name whispered with reverence by townsfolk and pastry enthusiasts alike: y/n, the enigmatic owner of "sun-kissed berries."

y/n. even your name sounded like something out of a folk song, rough around the edges yet undeniably alluring. soobin had only caught glimpses of you at the local farmer's market, and there was always one thing that stood out to him the most - your eyes. your eyes which could probably melt glaciers with a single glance. you had a reputation for being a bit gruff, a man of few words and even fewer smiles. but damn, could you grow some strawberries.

soobin glanced at the calendar on the wall, each day marked with a reminder of the rapidly approaching festival. it was a long shot, a desperate plea. but desperation, as they say, was the mother of all questionable life choices. and right now, soobin was ready to adopt that questionable life choice and call it his own.

"alright y/n," soobin muttered, grabbing his keys and mentally preparing himself for potential rejection. "time to see if those rumours about your heart being as soft as your strawberries are actually true."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the drive to "sun-kissed berries," was a blur of verdant fields and soobin's increasingly frantic internal monologue. he'd rehearsed his plea at least a dozen times, each iteration more desperate than the last. he just had to convince you to part with your precious strawberries. his reputation, his sanity, and possibly the entire happiness index of the town depended on it.

he pulled up to the farm, a charmingly rustic spread with a weathered wooden sign that read "sun-kissed berries - taste the difference." soobin's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that rivaled the beat of a hummingbird's wings. he took a deep breath, the air thick with the scent of freshly turned earth, and, yes, the unmistakable sweetness of ripe strawberries. it was like walking into a goddamn fruit-themed fairytale.

he spotted you immediately. you were bent over a row of strawberry plants, a straw hat shading your eyes as you inspected the fruit with a focus that bordered on reverence. even from a distance, soobin could see the way the sun glinted off your hair, the way your shoulders moved with an easy strength that made his stomach do a weird little flip.

"okay, soobin," he whispered to himself, "play it cool. be charming. channel your inner pastry god."

he strode towards you, each step a symphony of squeaking sneakers and mounting anxiety. as he got closer, he could hear you humming a low tune, a melody as warm and comforting as a summer breeze. you still hadn't noticed him, too engrossed in the world of your berries.

"um, hello?" soobin called out, his voice a little higher-pitched than intended.

you straightened up, turning to face him with a slow deliberateness that sent a shiver down soobin's spine. your eyes, sharp and startingly intense, met his, and for a moment, soobin forgot how to breathe.

"can i help you?" you asked, your voice a low rumble that resonated deep within soobin's chest. it was the kind of voice that could narrate audiobooks and make grocery lists sound like poetry.

"i, uh..." soobin stammered, his carefully rehearsed speech dissolving like sugar in rainwater. he felt like an idiot, standing there with his mouth flapping like a landed fish.

you raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes. "cat got your tongue?"

"more like strawberry stole my vocabulary," soobin blurted out, mentally kicking himself for the lame joke.

to his surprise, a low chuckle rumbled from your chest. "that's a new one." you leaned back against a weathered fence post, crossing your arms over your chest. "so, what brings the town baker to my humble berry patch?"

soobin took a deep breath, willing his heart rate to slow down to something resembling a normal rhythm. "right, well, you see, y/n," he began, trying to inject his voice with a confidence he definitely didn't feel, "i'm in a bit of a predicament."

"predicament?" you echoed, tilting your head slightly. the sunlight caught the side of your face, highlighting the sharp line of your jaw and the faintest hint of stubble. soobin briefly wandered what it would be like to trace those lines with his fingertips, then mentally scolded himself for having inappropriate thoughts about a guy who could probably bench-press a tractor.

"yes, a predicament of epic, pastry-related proportions," soobin said, wincing internally at his own rambling. "you see, the summer berry festival is in a week..."

"i'm aware," you interrupted, a hint of amusement in your voice. "it's kind of hard to miss all the posters plastered around town with that giant strawberry mascot on them."

soobin blushed, realizing he was stating the obvious. "right, of course," he mumbled. "well, the thing is, my strawberry shortcakes are, like, a huge thing at the festival. people line up for hours. there are even rumours of a black market for the last few boxes."

you chuckled, a deep throaty sound that sent a pleasant shiver down soobin's spine. "sounds serious."

"it is!" soobin exclaimed, his desperation finally breaking through. "and the thing is, i, uh, i may have...miscalculated...the amount of strawberries i needed."

"miscalculated?' you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

soobin cringed. "okay, fine, i completely forgot to order more and now i'm completely out and the festival is in a week and..." he trailed off, realizing that he was starting to hyperventilate.

you studied him for a moment, your gaze intense and unnervingly perceptive. soobin felt like you could see right through his flour-dusted apron, into the depths of his slightly panicked soul.

"so," you said slowly, "you're asking me..."

"for your strawberries?" soobin blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. "please. y/n, you're my only hope! your strawberries are legendary! they're like little drops of sunshine kissed by angels!"

okay maybe he went a tad overboard with the description, but he was desperate!

you didn't reply right away. you just stood there, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on your face as you surveyed soobin with those intense eyes. soobin resisted the urge to fidget, reminding himself that he was a pastry god, a master of dough and sugar, and he could handle a little bit of awkward silence.

"you know," you finally said, your voice deceptively casual, "most people place orders in advance."

soobin winced. "yes, i’m aware of how business transactions usually work," he said, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "but this is... a unique situation. a perfect storm of baking enthusiasm and forgetfulness."

you let out a low chuckle, the sound unexpectedly pleasant. "let me guess, you were up all night perfecting a new glaze, lost track of time, and by the time you remembered the strawberries, it was too late?"

soobin stared at you, his mouth slightly agape. "how...how did you know that?"

you shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips. "lucky guess. plus, you've got a bit of flour in your hair."

soobin's hand flew to his head, self-consciously brushing away the stray but of baking evidence. he was mortified. he prided himself on his usually impeccable appearance, but clearly, his strawberry-induced meltdown had taken it's toll.

"look," you said, your voice softening slightly, "i appreciate the...enthusiasm. and your shortcakes do sound legendary."

"they are!" soobin interjected. clutching at the compliment like a lifeline.

you held up a hand, silencing him. "but," you continued, "my strawberries are spoken for. i've got contracts with half the restaurants in town, not to mention the farmer's market this weekend."

soobin's heart plummeted. he knew it was a long shot, but hearing you confirm it felt like a punch to the gut. his festival dreams, his reputation, his very existence as a baker flashed before his eyes.

"but..." you added, and soobin dared to hope again.

you pushed away from the fence post, tilting your head back slightly to meet soobin's eyes. even with the height difference, your gaze held steady, those same intense eyes studying him with an unnerving perceptiveness. soobin was really fighting the urge to fidget under your scrutiny, but he also couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the way you had to look up at him.

"i might," you said slowly, your voice low and a touch of conspiratorial, "have a small surplus."

soobin's head tilted in response, hope surging through him like a shot of espresso. "you do?"

"maybe," you said, a playful glint in your eyes, "but it'll cost you."

soobin would have empties his bakery fund, his savings account, and possibly sold his prized collection of vintage rolling pins at that moment. "anything," he blurted out. "name your price."

you let out a deep an rich chuckle, taking a step closer, closing the distance between you. "relax, baker boy. i'm not going to bankrupt you. at least, not today." you paused, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully. "tell you what. you help me around the farm this week, leading up to the festival - i’m harvesting the last of the season's - and those surplus berries are all yours."

soobin blinked, momentarily distracted by how close you were now. he could practically smell the fresh earth and sunshine clinging to your clothes. "help you...on the farm?"he echoed, trying to focus on the conversation ad not the way your presence seemed to fill his senses. he couldn't help but picture himself, covered in dirt and probably a few insects, fumbling his way through a field of strawberries. it wasn't exactly the image he usually projected.

you seemed to find his hesitation amusing. "don't worry, i won't put you to work on any heavy machinery," you said, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "unless you're secretly a tractor enthusiast in disguise."

soobin laughed, a wave of relief washing over him. "i think i'll stick to my ovens for now," he said. "but a deal's a deal. you've got yourself a farmhand, y/n."

you extended your hand, your grip firm and surprisingly warm against soobin's. "welcome aboard, soobin," you said, a genuine smile finally spreading across your face. it transformed younfrom gruff owner to someone....well, someone soobin could definitely see himself spending a lot lf time with, both in the strawberry fields and maybe, just maybe, somewhere a little more...private. he quickly shoved that thought aside. focus, soobin. strawberries. festival. right.

"so," you continued, your voice snapping soobin out of his daydreams, "be here bright and early tomorrow, and wear clothes you don't mind getting dirty. and soobin?"

"yeah?"

"leave the fancy pastries at home. we'll have our work cut out for us, and i prefer my sugar rush in the form of freshly picked strawberries."

soobin grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. "deal." he gave you a little wave, unable to contain his happy energy. "i should probably let you get back to it. i’ll be here bright and early tomorrow, ready to work...and maybe sample a few strawberries." he added the last part with a playful wink, earning himself another chuckle from you.

turning to leave, soobin felt a lightness in his step that hadn't bee there before. as he walked back to his vespa, the setting sun casting long shadows across the farm, he couldn't shake the feeling that this unexpected turn of events might just be the sweetest thing. he'd stumbled upon all year.

he slid onto his vespa, the scent of strawberries clinging to his clothes, his apron, and pulled away from "sun-kissed berries," his heart full of anticipation for the week ahead. he had a feeling that it was going to be a berry good one.

[kinascum]

SCOOP OF US - C. STURNIOLO

SYNOPSIS: In a charming ice cream parlor, Chris and Y/N navigate the delightful challenge of choosing the perfect flavor.

WARNINGS: none!

WORD COUNT: 416

"So, what's your flavor?" Chris' eyes twinkled with curiosity as he scanned the colorful array of ice cream tubs behind the glass counter. His question hung in the air, unanswered. The sweet aroma of waffle cones and freshly churned goodness filled the quaint little parlor.

Y/N, caught in a whirlwind of indecision, stared at the menu with a furrowed brow. There were just too many options—each one sounded more tantalizing than the last. "I don't know," she murmured, feeling a little overwhelmed. "They all look so good."

Chris leaned in, his grin widening. "If you're looking for the real star of the show, it's gotta be their chocolate fudge brownie," he said, his voice low and earnest. "It's like a party in your mouth, and everyone's invited." He tapped the glass gently, his finger lingering over the dark, rich scoop nestled between the mint chocolate chip and the strawberry cheesecake. His enthusiasm was contagious, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the thought of tasting something so heavenly.

After a brief internal debate, she pointed at the chocolate fudge brownie. "That one," she said decisively. "But only if you promise not to judge me for copying you."

Chris chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. "Your taste is anything but predictable," he joked, sarcasm lacing his tone, he placed their orders with the attentive server. He leaned against the counter, watching as the scoops of velvety ice cream were piled onto their cones. The clinking of spoons against metal and the soft whir of the ice cream machine provided a comforting backdrop to their conversation. "But, I have to admit, I'm going for something a bit more... classic," he said, his gaze drifting to the cookie dough flavor.

The server handed them their cones with a smile. "One chocolate fudge brownie and one cookie dough," she announced, placing the treats in their outstretched hands. Chris stepped aside, allowing Y/N to take her first lick. The cold sweetness hit her taste buds, and she couldn't help but let out a little moan of pleasure. His eyes lit up at the sight, and he couldn't resist teasing her a bit. "See? I told you it was a good choice."

They found a cozy spot outside the parlor, sitting on a wooden bench that had seen better days but had been painted a cheerful shade of blue. The warm summer evening wrapped around them like a gentle embrace, and the sound of distant laughter and chirping crickets filled the air. The reader took a moment to appreciate the moment—the soft glow of the streetlights, the gentle hum of the ice cream truck in the background, and the comforting presence of Chris beside her. It was a simple, yet perfect date.

hope you guys liked this!! made it short and sweet for yall <33