#the pan is in the sink i have to wash it first

[gruesomejack]

Easing himself back up, Vi smiled and almost reached out for his cheek, only to remember himself. Instead, he gave a quick glance back before gently pushing the three of them inside and closing the door behind them. Once they were alone without the chance of anyone being too nosy, Vi ducked in and left a soft kiss beneath Charlie's temple. "I'm kind of known for going overboard when I'm trying to impress someone." He said and let out a soft laugh, his cheeks warming. "But I also really like cooking for people. It runs in the family."

Taking the bags back from him, he moved towards the kitchen and started to set things out on the counter. Chicken, capers, white wine-- There were quite a few things, but he'd tried his very best to keep it simple. Neither the dish or the side would be much effort from him, but looking at it now made him wonder if he should've just gone with pasta. Oh well. "You're going to be my beautiful assistant." He said, glancing up to flash Charlie a smile. "Like a magic show, except I won't ask you to be scantily clad." He said, "--Unless you want to. I won't be upset about it."

Moving to the sink, he gave his hands a good wash and dry before glancing around. "I need a couple of pans and a big pot for the rice. Can you grab those for me?" He asked, "Oh! And maybe a small one. I brought an extra piece of chicken for Buster to boil off." Vi smiled again, turning his attention to the dog and giving him a soft coo. "Don't you worry, I didn't forget about you." His eyes shifted to Charlie, his smile spreading. "How have you been? I probably should've asked that first, but I'm a little excited, I guess." He said, his face pink. "You look really good."

Victory checked his phone again, opening the messaging app and confirming for the hundredth time this was the right spot. He'd pulled off some kind of miracle in the last month, not only getting in contact with one of his favorite artists, but managing to keep it going almost regularly. And now he was standing outside of an unfamiliar building on an unfamiliar street in the middle of Appalachian nowhere, getting ready to meet him in person.

He'd dressed down for the occasion, mostly for his own sake, but for Charlie's too. His own success was leading to more and more people clocking him while he was out, and he doubted dressing like Elton John would help him blend in in a place like this. The bleached hair he'd been sporting recently was tucked nicely under a baseball cap, his extensive ink work covered by a baggy sweatshirt. He'd even taken his earrings out in a rush, storing them in his pocket when he realized he'd forgotten to leave them in his hotel room. The last thing Charlie needed was to be bombarded because he agreed to meet him.

In the middle of using his phone screen as a mirror, his eyes widened as it lit up with a text. Vi quickly shoved it in his pocket and gave a quick sweep of the area. He frowned for a moment, but before he could pull out his phone again, his eyes landed on a familiar face, his own quickly brightening into a grin. Bouncing on his feet, he laughed as he waved his arms to usher his pen pal over.

Charlie Reimes. Cane Corso had been a staple on his playlists for years, and here was the frontman in the flesh. -- All because he'd gotten drunk and too bold, sending him what was an embarrassing DM expressing his admiration. It was a testament to maybe not all of his questionable choices led to questionable outcomes.

Beaming, he practically hopped the rest of the way over to him, his smile toothy, cheeks pink, and his eyes crinkled. "I can't believe it! I don't think you understand how massive this is to me." He said, babbling a little in his excitement. "I can't even begin to thank you. You've been such an inspiration to me forever and-" Oh! Oh, shit. Face flooding with color, he lifted his hands to wave off the starstruck gibberish, and instead offered him his palm. "I-I'm Vi." He managed, "It's nice to see you in person."

@purposefully-lost

[motherdanger]

me from 11 am to 2 am arguing with myself in bed if i should get up and just eat my damned canned tuna ive been fighting with myself for three hours

[supercantaloupe]

gonna strangle one of my roommates

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 2

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.8k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), explicit language, cheating, pregnancy, smut – PIV sex (doggy style)

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your summer babysitting job turned adulterous summer scandal.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the kind words and support on Part 1 of this! I hope you enjoy part 2, and who knows, maybe I'll write a part 3 one day lol. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Taglist: @scorpiosugar @diegojeanne @f4irygard3n @cvixmei @soniiyi - more tags in the comments

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, holding the pregnancy test, hoping that somehow, you’ll blink away the second line indicating that you are indeed pregnant.

“No way.” Chiyo waits for you outside the stall, the apprehension in her voice apparent.

“Yes. I’m…” There’s a lump in your throat you have to swallow before you finish your sentence. “Pregnant.”

Your best friend’s silence on the other side only makes you panic more, but you don’t blame her. What can she really say to make any of this better? To stop your world from turning upside down?

She whispers your name quietly, at a complete loss for words. Then, she clears her throat, sounding as if she’s fighting tears herself. “I’m going to buy you a melon pan. Just…wait for me here, okay?” It’s the only consolation she can offer you in this moment, huddled in a public restroom of a convenience store; you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You wait for her to leave, completely alone now. As soon as she’s gone, you sob into your hands.

It's not that you oppose being a mother. You’ve always imagined handing a positive pregnancy test to the love of your life with the biggest smile on your face, excited to raise a family together. Ideally, this would have happened sometime in the future, once you’ve established yourself as a full-fledged adult. Not like this: twenty-one years-old, less than a year until graduation without the slightest clue what you’re doing with your life. Worst of all, the father isn’t your husband, a boyfriend, even a friend. It’s Toji Fushiguro, the dad of the little boy you babysat over the summer, the husband of the kind woman who hired you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for your adultery, the guilt eating away at you since the start of that lecherous summer fling. And now, you have this pee-on-a-stick to remind you how incredibly reckless you were to get involved with him in the first place. How undeniably irresponsible you were to have unprotected sex with a married man. Sure, it was the best sex you’ll probably ever have in your life. But was it worth it?

You wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tossing it in the trash bin. Knowing that no good will come out of sulking in the 7-11 bathroom any longer, you finally exit the stall, washing your hands clean at the sink. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixated on your belly, wondering what it will look like round and full of life. It buzzes again, snapping you out of your trance. When you check to see who’s messaging, you almost drop your phone out of shock.

Somehow, someway, the universe has it out for you. Because in the most perfectly disastrous timing ever, Mrs. Fushiguro decides to contact you.

~~~

A week later, you’re sitting on the train, heading to the Fushiguro household. Your stomach is in knots, both from anxiety and from the morning sickness. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin sticky against your clothing in this hot weather. The closer you approach your destined stop, the more and more nervous you get, almost convinced to call the whole thing off.

Believe it or not, Mrs. Fushiguro did not contact you to confront you about the dirty deeds you did with her husband. Instead, she messaged you in dire need of a babysitter once again. She spares you the details, asking if you could meet her in person to better explain herself. And for whatever reason, you agree.

You haven’t come up with a solid plan yet on what you want to do about your little predicament. So far, the only people that know are Chiyo and your parents, who, after the initial shock of it all, have been surprisingly supportive. They advised you to take the rest of the term off, which you were able to get arranged quickly through your school. This gives you several weeks to decide what you need to do. With one issue resolved, it leaves you with the next, and the most pressing: whether or not you should tell the father. The last thing you want is to break apart the Fushiguro family. You’re fully prepared to raise this baby as a single mother, which, with the help of your parents and best friend, seems doable. Besides, you’re not even sure if you want Toji to be involved considering his complete lack of interest in his other child, Megumi. Despite that, you believe that as the father, he has the right to know. Can you gather the courage to actually tell him?

Still lost in your train of thought, you hop off to walk to the house. When you arrive, you spot Mrs. Fushiguro already outside, leaning against her car in the driveway with little Megumi in her arms. They both smile upon seeing you, warming your heart. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is to come. 

“Hello Mrs. Fushiguro,” you greet her, bowing politely, too shy to meet her gaze. “How are you?”

“Doing really well. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She lets her son down, who steps towards you until he’s hugging your knee, cooing. “I wanted to talk to you in person about my complicated situation.”

“Is everything alright?” you ask, unable to resist kneeling down to meet Megumi at eye level, making funny faces at him.

She giggles. “Oh, everything is great! The divorce finally went through and I’m living with my new boyfriend now, who’s been the absolute best, especially with Megumi.”

You make a shocked expression, mouth agape, exaggerated for the kid’s entertainment, though you’re pretty much stunned yourself. “Divorce…?”

“Yeah! Toji and I have been separated for a long time now. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that over the summer. You’re still so young after all, no need to rope you into adult things.”

You almost bust out laughing at the irony, but you hold your tongue, continuing to listen to her.

She sighs, flipping her long, beautiful hair behind her shoulders. “That being said, I still care about the guy. I mean, he is the father of my child. Without me or Megumi there on a regular basis, the whole house has gone to shit. It seems like he’s actually taking this divorce pretty hard. So, I want to hire you as a babysitter for my ex-husband. Just for a little while until he can get back up on his feet.”

Another shocked face, which makes Megumi laugh while dread sinks into your chest. “Babysitter…?”

“Babysitter, housekeeper, whatever you want to call it. You did such a wonderful job with him over the summer, even while you were taking care of Megumi! I don’t know what you were feeding him. Whatever it was, he was definitely a little bit nicer when you were around.”

Lewd flashbacks replay in your mind of Toji eating you out sloppily, slurping up all your pussy juices in every room of the house. You focus on the ground, too ashamed to look at her. “Mrs. Fushiguro, I don’t know if I can do this.”

She squats to your level, reaching for your hand, holding it gently in hers. “I know this is a lot of ask. You’re the only one I can rely on for this. Please.”

A sense of déjà vu hits you. There’s desperation in her tone and it tugs at your heartstrings the same way it did when you first met her a few months ago. It doesn’t help that Megumi is now squeezing the index finger of your other hand, eyes full of curious wonder, grip surprisingly strong for such a young child. Would she be pleading with you like this if she knew the truth about you, Toji, and the baby? Even though they were separated during this whole ordeal, it doesn’t make what you did any better; you still decided to do it regardless of their marital status.

Maybe you can use this opportunity as a way to atone.  

You finally look at her, giving the most convincing smile you can muster, trying your best to ignore the wave of nausea washing over you. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

~~~

Mrs. Fushiguro asks you to start at noon the following day, giving her enough time to notify her ex about your temporary employment. When you use the set of keys she gave you to open the front door, you step inside cautiously, not sure what to expect. You’ve been dreading this impromptu reunion all night, wondering if you could even face him.

It’s a mess inside, heaps of dirty laundry scattered all over the furniture, fast food wrappers and empty ramen bowls littered on the kitchen counter. There’s a stench lingering in the stale air in here and you almost think the worse, but Mrs. Fushiguro had warned you about this. Seeing it in person is more heartbreaking than disgusting. Toji really is taking this divorce hard. It wouldn’t be right to burden him with more life-changing news, right?

You begin by gathering all the trash into garbage bags, flattening any cardboard to recycle. By the looks of it, he’s been living off junk food and protein bars for the past month. The refrigerator is near empty, aside from a questionable take-out container in the very back, which you end up dumping along with everything else. You make it your next task to get groceries after you load the washing machine.

When you return from the store, Toji remains absent. Nerves prevent you from leaning against the bedroom door to listen for any signs of him in there. His ex-wife mentioned that he goes out to gamble at the horse races whenever he’s short on cash, so it’s likely he’s there. Still, you’re anticipating his return, mentally preparing yourself for how you’ll behave around him. Given your current circumstances, you are serious about turning over a new leaf. No more funny business with him. Absolutely not.

It’s near dinnertime now and you’ve miraculously accomplished tidying the house and doing his laundry all within a few hours. You even managed to cook soup for dinner, full of hearty beef and fresh vegetables, something to provide nutrients compared to the processed food he’s been consuming lately. You’re stirring the pot when you hear keys jingle from outside the front door. He comes in, clad in a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuates his muscles and grey sweatpants that don't leave much to the imagination. A plastic bag is slung behind his shoulder, clearly from a convenience store. Despite his concerning diet, his physique is still impressive as ever. Just one glance at him has you fluttering below your belly, replaying the erotic memories you share together. You turn to face him, standing up straight, feigning confidence while you fret internally. He looks at you, brow raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Hello sir,” you greet him, bowing politely. Acting as if he’s a total stranger and not the man who rocked your entire world over the summer, now with evidence to prove it.

He sets the bag on the counter, revealing a couple of ramen packets inside. “What’s with the formalities?” he asks, grinning. “If I remember correctly, you were screaming my name nonstop the last time you were here.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks instantly, not surprised by his vulgarity, though still embarrassed. You clear your throat, trying to stay strong. “I’m here to work. Nothing else.”

He walks towards you, his stature casting a daunting shadow as he steps closer and closer, towering over you. His voice is low, borderline threatening to a point that has you trembling. “So you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?”

You swallow hard, composure wavering. “That’s right.”  Even you don’t fully believe it when it comes out of your own mouth, how can you expect him to?

There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost like he’s disappointed by your response. He turns his back to you, mumbling something about taking a shower. You watch him enter his bedroom, hearing him clear as day before he shuts the door with a dull thud. “I guess you don’t want me either.”

~~~

A week into being Toji’s live-in housekeeper, the two of you figure out a routine together that involves minimal interaction. You wake up in the morning to cook breakfast, eating it quickly and leaving the rest for him while you go out. You use this time to go for a walk, meet with Chiyo or your parents, do some grocery shopping, or just sit at the nearby park, enjoying the sun with your baby, who grows little-by-little each day.

Toji is usually gone the whole afternoon, either working out or gambling, so you’re able to do chores back at the house, like cleaning his room. He doesn’t return until dinnertime when tension seems to be at its highest. A big reason for that is because he’s made it a habit to eat right after his shower, shirtless and with his legs crossed on the floor, displaying a perfectly visible outline of his manhood. It’s distracting, to say the least. Chiyo mentioned the other day how you can have an increased libido during the first trimester. That’s definitely proving itself now.

Aside from the half-nakedness, something else surprises you about him. The two of you mostly avoid conversation with each other, eating in silence at the dining table while sneaking furtive glances whenever you get a chance. But he never fails to mutter, “Thank you for the meal,” before washing the dishes at the sink, retreating back into his room when he’s done. It’s the tiniest act of consideration that makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.

Tonight you sit across from each other as usual. You just finished eating the chicken katsu you made for dinner, along with a couple of side dishes you prepped earlier in the week. His abs look especially spectacular today and you find it harder than usual to stop peeking at them.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through me with the way you’re staring,” he says, chewing his last bite.

Shit, caught red-handed. You quickly look down at your empty bowl, mumbling an apology. “Sorry. I just…I can tell your hard work is paying off.”

“Yours too. The house has never been cleaner. And the food has never been better.” He’s looking directly at you, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.”

It’s no good. Your hormones are raging, sexual desire courses through you, all from that stupidly handsome grin and a silly little compliment. How did you ever think you could resist him?

You stand up, grabbing everything from the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” you offer, walking them to the sink, trying to calm down.

It’s no use, though. He sees right through you.

He gives you only a minute alone before he follows you, caging you between his big arms, your back to him, his mouth hot on your ear. “Let me help you.”

You let out a frustrated huff, already unraveling from his proximity. The smallest jut of your hips and there it is, his erection pressed to your ass, throbbing and even more massive than you remember it. “Toji, we can’t,” you whine, not making any attempt to separate yourself from him.

He slides his hands around your hips, pulling you in closer, rubbing his rock-hard cock against you. “I know you want it. I know you want me.”

And he’s right. You do. You want him with you, around you, inside of you. In all the ways he’s had you before, in new ways he’s never had but you’ve fantasized about. There’s no denying it anymore. You want him. You want him so fucking bad.

He takes you right there at the kitchen sink, bent over with your grip tight on the edge of the counter, pounding away at your wet, needy cunt. Neither of you bother to remove your clothes completely, Toji’s sweatpants shrugged down his thighs just enough, yours pooled around your ankles, soaked panties at your knees. “Fuck, Toji!” you moan, sticking your ass out to meet his thrusts.

His fingers find your clit, rubbing slippery circles around it. “Say it,” he grunts, increasing the pace.

Drools leaks out from the sides of your lips, too fucked out to process what’s he’s asking you. “What?”

“Say you want me,” he demands, massaging your swollen bud so deep, you feel it all the way down to your fucking toes.

“I want you. I want you, Toji!” you respond breathlessly, squeezing him tight with your orgasm.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed my good girl.” He continues to fuck you, slowly now, relishing every second of being inside you. “Always so fucking creamy for me, fuck.” He pulls you up to embrace you from behind, fingers still pleasuring you, his other hand at your chin to face you towards him. The two of you kiss passionately, lips smacking, tongues swirling. So sloppy and wanton that it puts you on the verge of another orgasm, completely succumbed to pleasure.

You sleep with him in his bedroom after several more orgasms and a big one of his own, wrapped comfortably in his arms, with his cock and creampie inside you the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, you’re oddly at peace.

~~~

Your reckless decision making has led you into another troublesome scenario. Fortunately, you haven’t had any morning sickness the entire first week of your employment at the Fushiguro household. Unfortunately, it decides to come back today. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it to the bathroom near your room, so you have no choice but to hop out of Toji’s bed and run into his, clutching onto the porcelain bowl until it’s all out. You rinse your mouth off at the sink, hoping Toji didn’t hear any of it. But you know all too well by now that luck is never on your side.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, watching you come out of the bathroom. “Did you just puke in there?” There’s a hint of concern in his normally blunt tone.

You nod, bending down to retrieve your underwear and pants off the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“Are you sick?” he asks, the worry even more obvious now.

Shaking your head, you respond, “No, I just…I’m feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.” You walk towards the door, still not willing to look at him. “There should be leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself to breakfast. I’m going to lay down.”

He calls out your name. “Wait – ”

You ignore him, closing the door shut behind you, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you retreat into your own bedroom, muffling your sobs into a pillow. After your wild romp last night, this bout of morning sickness has swiftly brought you back to reality. You’re still harboring the secret growing in your womb from the man who gave it to you to begin with.

There’s a firm knock on your door, startling you. “Hey, it’s me.”

In this split-second, you decide to stop with the lies and finally tell the truth. You open the door, Toji standing in front of you fully clothed in his usual attire, a serious expression on his face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Eyes still puffy from crying, you take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”

His mouth parts the slightest bit, no words coming out of it. The silence seems to linger on forever. You fill it by rambling all the thoughts that have been swimming in your head the last couple of weeks. “Before you start freaking out or anything, I’m telling you so that you know. I don’t expect you to be involved. I’m perfectly willing to raise this child on my own. And besides, I won’t be completely alone. I have my family to help me, my friends too. I’ll be totally fine. This baby is going to be well taken care of, I’ll make sure of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how. But I feel better already because this has been stressing me out. It’s all going to work out okay? I think. I hope.”

After the long spiel, he stares down at the floor, jaw tight, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he says, “I have to go.”

When he leaves the house, you crawl into your bed, bawling until there are no tears left for you to cry.

~~~

You wake up in the late afternoon to an enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. It’s been hours since you’ve been in bed, moping about how poorly everything went with Toji. His reaction left you devastated. While you always expected to do this alone, hearing his negative response to it hurts more than you anticipated it to.

Curious, you make your way into the kitchen, shocked to find Toji standing over the stove, stirring a pot, the soothing scent of soup surrounding you. “What’s going on?” you ask, noticing a plethora of fresh vegetables laid out on the counter, along with a big bottle of prenatal vitamins and various snacks.

He turns the heat off, covering the pot with a lid. “I’m cooking,” he answers, facing you with a grin on his face. “Bone broth is a good source of calcium. And you need to keep eating lots of veggies so our baby is strong, like me. No more of this instant ramen shit.”

“I thought you were upset,” you say, stepping closer to him.  

“I know. I’m sorry I left like that. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit it. But I started to get excited." He takes your hands in his. "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but being a father isn’t one of them. Being a bad father is. I want to change. I need to change. For Megumi. For our new little one. For you.”

Strangely enough, you believe in his heartfelt declaration. You smile at him, letting him go to stand in front of the stove, taking a whiff of the comforting aroma of the hot soup he made for you, happy tears welling in your eyes. He hugs you gently from behind, nuzzling his nose to you. “I’m going to do it right this time, okay? I know I can do it with you.”

As Toji caresses your belly, kissing you softly along the neck, you feel the weight that’s been heavy on your shoulders ease up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

[starkwlkr]

Can I request some hung with old man Logan? Something domestic or soemthing like reader baking for him. I love reading fics of Logan and reader being an old married couple

just the two of us | old man logan

an: anon ily for this request old man Logan needs more love <3 credit to pinterest for the gif btw this doesn’t follow the logan storyline so i added laura hope that’s ok!! sorry if there’s an spelling mistakes!

reader and logan live in a nice little cozy home because i said so 😍

“Taste.” You held the wooden spoon up to your husband’s mouth. Logan sighed, he knew you weren’t going to let him walk away without tasting the brownie batter so he licked the spoon.

For a while you had been craving brownies. While Logan was out working, you and Laura drove to the city to pick up the ingredients to make brownies. It was a fun small girls trip until it was time to come back home. Laura had helped you mix everything together until she got tired, she then decided to go up to her room to watch cartoons. You continued working on the brownies by yourself, that’s when Logan had arrived from work and now here you were giving him a taste test.

“So?” You waited for an answer.

“Bub, you are the best baker in this whole town, city, state, planet.” Logan was going to dip his finger in the batter until you slapped it away.

“No! You’re going to wait like the rest of us, but I did tell Laura she could have the first brownie so just wait.” You told him.

Logan groaned and walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. “How was your day?”

Logan always asked about you day. It didn’t matter if you stayed home and read a book or did some gardening, he wanted to know.

“Good. Laura and I read a new book, we went to buy ingredients to make brownies and now my old man is home so I’d say it’s been a pretty good day.” You started to pour the brownie batter into a pan.

He didn’t mind you calling him old man, in fact, he loved it. Yeah, he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but you still loved him. You did admit to him many times that the grey hair was a turn on for you, which made him laugh.

Before you could react, Logan quickly dipped his finger in the batter and licked it clean.

“James! Don’t you dare do it again!” You scolded him. “These are for Laura too.”

“Come on, Laura’s not going to know that I ate some batter,” Logan leaned on the counter next to you. “I’ve been thinking. .”

“Oh no, that’s concerning.” You teased, finishing up with the brownies and putting them in the oven. You turned to face him then wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you.

Logan chuckled at your response. “I’ve been thinking about taking you and Laura to some place nice. We can do that family shit you always talk about.”

You laugh at his choice of words. “Family shit, yeah that’s what I said.”

“Tomorrow then, I’ll drive us to the nicest place you’ve ever seen, get some ice cream, watch a movie, whatever you want.” Logan leaned in closer, you doing the same.

Before your lips could touch, Laura interrupted you asking about the brownies.

“Not yet, my love, I just put them in. I’ll call you when they’re done,” You pulled away making Logan groan. Laura nodded then ran up to her room. You noticed the frown on his face so you quickly gave him his after work kiss. “Don’t be so sad, old man, the neighbor’s kid wants to have a sleepover with Laura this weekend so it’ll just be the two of us.” Logan definitely liked the sound of that.

Half an hour later, the brownies were ready. Laura took several with her to her room while you and Logan took a plate outside to the patio where your porch swing was. It was a beautiful evening, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, and now you were ending the night beside your husband eating some homemade brownies.

“I think Laura is going to ask you for a dog.” You mention, scooting closer to Logan and laying your head on his chest. You held a brownie up to him so he could take a bite.

“No, we are not getting a dog.” He said.

“It would be nice, you know . . .” You bit the brownie after Logan.

“Is this why you made brownies? You want me to get you and Laura a dog?” He looked down at you.

“No, but can you?”

He sighed defeatedly. “I’ll think about it.”

[peaches-creek]

When he walks through the door, you are cooking. Smells like something Italian but maybe not. He hears the bubbling of a pot and a searing of a pan. He crouches as he takes off his boots, caked in dirt and stinking of something foreign. He can’t greet you after a month like this, covered in grease and smelling of gunpowder and sweat. You heard him drop his duffle bag. He hears do drop the spoon you were using and the pitter-patter of your feet coming to greet him. Your smiling face turns the corner.

“You’re home.” You gently say as you walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into your arms with his face in your neck. You pull his mask off and give a kiss to his temple.

“I smell.” He says.

“Everyone smells,” she quips, “lemme hold you for a minute.” He lets her do exactly that.

After a minute or so he tells her she needs to finish cooking, and that he needs to shower. They can have a meal together and then take a well deserved nap together.

While he’s in the shower he takes his time decompressing. Trying to become Simon after a month of being Lt. Ghost. He thinks of what you might be cooking instead of the mistake he made that almost costed Price his life. He uses your conditioner and gingerbread body wash, knowing that you wouldn’t mind. You never do. It shocks him, every time, when he thinks of how much you Love him. You know what he does, and you still call him your “cutie-patootie.”

By the time he’s out of the shower, dinner is on the table, warm and on his favorite blue plates. You made him lemon breaded chicken and garlic parmesan pasta, his second favorite dish, first being his mother’s meatloaf.

“You smell familiar.” You laugh.

“This smells great,” he states, “not as good as me though.”

You place a kiss on his lips.

“Okay now that you have kissed the chef, you may eat your meal.” You move to the other side of the table, sitting across from him.

“Catch me up, what did I miss?” He says.

You spend the next half an hour talking his ear off as he shovels food into his face. He prefers that, not only does he like hearing your voice but it also helps him settle in. Hearing all the things that you did around the house, putting up new pictures, the ones that you took when you guys went to see the Eiffel Tower. You also got a few new plants, and told him that you waited for him to get home so you could name them together. You also said how you started watching some new documentary that he had to see.

He spent his whole life moving from one place to another, barely living. Now he has you. You move him and he moves you. Once he was finished with his plate, you took it to the sink and placed it on top of the others, you can do those later, it’s time to put your man to bed. He deserves it.

“Okay now, let’s get you to bed.” You pull him up and drag him to your shared bed. It’s quite a funny thing to see, such a large man getting dragged through the halls just to be tucked into bed.

You reach your destination. You let go of his hand and pull the covers back. You settle yourself in first, waving your hand to tell him to come in. You then maneuver him to put his head on your chest.

“All settled in?” You ask. He nods his head. No words needed. He was exactly where he needed to be. You begin to rub his back as he slowly finds himself falling into a sweet sleep, courtesy of you.

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x reader | fluff, a little bit domestic, a little bit intimate, a little bit suggestive? (not really) | cw: cursing, a very modest bath scene

-bakugou only knows how to give, you wish he'd let you do the same for him-

Thinking about the newly domestic give and take between you and Katsuki. It doesn't come naturally to him. He's hell bent on doing everything himself, at first. That's the way he's always lived after all—hyper self-sufficient, independent to a fault, and so goddamn stubborn about it all.

It makes you feel almost useless, his insistence on doing everything, not only for himself but for you as well. Honestly, you should have expected it; he was like that well before moving in together. Taking all the responsibilities on himself, wrangling you out of the way when you so much as try to help, because he "feels like it", or he's "better at it", or "just move, f'r I make ya".

But you were a guest in his house, then—so you let him have his way, bullheaded as it was. Now that you share a house—a home—you want nothing more than to take care of it, of him.

Though moving mountains would be easier than convincing him to accept it.

You try brute force, first. And it goes as well as you might expect, like throwing pebbles at a brick wall. Putting yourself between him and the dishes is just as futile; he cooked dinner, you should be the one to do this. It's only fair. Still, he takes it upon himself to pick you up and physically remove you from 'his' spot by the sink, ugly yellow gloves dripping dishwater all the way to the counter.

The floor is completely soaked by the time he plops you down on the countertop, as are your jeans, your flailing arms and exasperated "Katsuki!" having done little to deter him. Your mouth opens in protest but his hands, firm at your sides and eyes, red, and stern and definite leave no room for discussion.

So you try to 'talk about it', second. When his mood has cooled and he's feeling a little sweet. He usually is, when hero work has worn him down, chipped away at his fire until there's nothing left but his worn down bones and the aching desire to be enveloped in you—his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair.

He's nothing but mush in your arms by the time you bring it up, nearly two hundred pounds of limp muscle, eyes half lidded, and slow, warm breath. You think he doesn't hear you at first, more likely he pretends not to; but then you hear a half-hearted, "hmph". And you sigh.

"I'm serious, Kats." you rake your fingers across his scalp absently and he groans in appreciation, furling into you more. "You can't do everything, just look at you."

He peers up at you with one eye, an almost glare, more playful than anything; too tired for anything more. He huffs gently, warm breath across your chest when you don't back down. "We'll talk about it later."

'Later'; meaning never. Still, you don't press him. Not when he's so tired, not when this small moment of peace is all he allows you to offer him.

Ever predictable; there isn't a later, and he finds a way to avoid the conversation, in one way or another. Over and over and over again. You're at the end of your rope just trying to get him to listen.

So you try a last ditch effort at patience, at compromise (usually a losing battle, with him); working him over, little by little.

And it works, mostly.

You find that, most times, you can slip past him while he's cooking to steal the dirty mixing bowls and discarded pans; wash them while he's preoccupied trying not to burn the chicken or fretting over cutting the vegetables 'just right'. That him doing the cooking is non-negotiable, but he'll let you help as long as you stop trying to kiss him while he's "tryin' to make y'r dinner over here, god damnit".

(Don't let him fool you, he likes it).

That it takes you far too long to realize how much he craves being asked for 'help', instead of your usual insistence on helping him. That when he feels appreciated and useful, he's almost eager to share the housework with you, looking almost boyish standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, the tepid scowl twisting his pretty face betrayed by the blush creeping up the back of his neck when you hum a lilted, "Thank you, Katsuki".

Your strategy's not foolproof, of course; he's still quick to steal whatever you're working on once he's finished his, itching to make himself busy once more.

But it's progress.

Still, no matter how much you try, or how long you pester him, he puts his foot down at taking care of him while he's sick, while he's training or on patrol. Anything that could end with you hurt, or put you in harms way is a hard 'no'—always, always, always.

That's not to say he doesn't let you take care of him ever. Though it was more hassle than it should have been, getting him to just sit comfortable instead of disappearing into the bath for hours, or taking his frustrations out on his poor, battered training equipment.

These days, when he's had an especially tiring evening, he'll sink down into the sofa without you having to say a thing, let you press your fingers into his shoulders and down his spine until the knots unwind. That occasionally he'll let you take him by the hand even, coax him gently into warm water and vanilla scented bubble bath.

That he becomes particularly docile when you're massaging your flowery conditioner into his wily blonde hair. The scent of you—over his waist, around his shoulders, in his hair—it's almost intoxicating, and he wraps his arms around you, like he's desperate for more, burying his face in your chest; sighs like he's at ease for the first time in his life.

It isn't easy, teaching Katsuki to take—but when he lays down with you at night, his eyes are a little brighter, hands hold you a little tighter, a little longer than when all he knew was how to give, give, give. And when his lips find yours, and you can feel his smile against them, you figure all the trouble is worth it.

And when he rolls the both of you over til you're pinned beneath heavy thighs, impish grin on his lips and calloused fingers beneath your shirt, trouble and promise brewing behind his newly fired eyes, well that's just a bonus.

[darlingshane]

sticky

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Michael fucks you over the kitchen sink. That's it.

CW: 18+, explicit, smut, fluff, fingering, vaginal sex, established relationship, pwp.

Word Count: 857

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

Lost in your thoughts, focused on your busy hands washing dishes in the sink under the soothing sound of the faucet running, you miss Mikey's stealthy entrance into the kitchen until his arms lock around your waist from behind.

His warm breath touches the back of your neck, making your skin stick out when he plants a sweet kiss on that spot.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he purrs along your skin as he noses his way into the crook of your neck, pressing his shirtless torso on your back. “I missed you.”

It puts a smile into your face to find how sickly sweet he is sometimes.

This is what being with Michael is. There's no room for personal space for more than two minutes. Some people might call that clingy, but you don't mind it at all. He has little self-control with anything in his life, but specially when it comes to you – he's always craving more. It's something that you absolutely love about him. He makes you feel adored and wanted; those two things you've never felt before with anyone before him. At least not as strongly. He would never let you go touch-starved as other people have. Michael has plenty to offer and not enough time alone with you to give you all he wants. So he takes any opportunity to indulge both you and him as much as he can, hoping you’d never grow sick of him.

His wandering fingers travel down your waist to slip under the hem of your shirt that barely touches the tops of your bare thighs. They gently land between your legs and trace your slit over your panties, tucking the fabric between your outer lips.

“Mikey… I'm almost done with here. Can you wait a minute?”

“Uh-uh,” he grins against the shell of your ear. “I wanna make you come here, over the sink.”

He's been really adamant on having sex in every nook of the apartment, the kitchen is yet one you have to break in.

You turn off the faucet, put down the sponge on the corner of the sink to brace your hands on the counter, but he tells you to keep, that you don't get to stop until he says so.

He's crazy, but you're crazier for following along to his request.

It's hard to focus on what you're doing when you can feel him harden against your ass while his hand slides under the elastic of your panties to meet your folds. With his mouth attached to your neck, he massages your pussy thoroughly. First with his whole palm cups your sex, squeezing lightly before using his fingers to run up and down your folds until you're soaked.

Your breath hitches and you stop for a moment when his thumb starts rubbing directly on your clit.

“Sh, sh, sh, keep going sweetheart.”

You bring your focus back to your hands as the buzzing touch of his finger pad makes your knees tremble.

“Look at you, you're doing so fucking good,” he praises.

You struggle to keep yourself steady and sharp on your task when you feel two thick fingers probing your opening.

You close your eyes and absentmindedly keep lathering the same pan while he slowly finger-fucks your pussy.

“Please, Michael,” you moan, bucking your hips to get more friction.

“I got you, sweetheart.”

It's then that he gradually ups the rhythm and pressure. His thumb becomes rougher on your swollen bud, stimulating every damn nerve on that area. His other two fingers find the right spot to press over and over within your walls, coaxing your juices to drip down his hand.

The tenderness of your opening enclosing around his knuckles, the way you moan every syllable when you plead his name tells him you're reaching that sweet edge.

Right where he wanted you, it's then that he bends you forward, putting a stop to your chore that you couldn't keep doing any longer.

He tugs the elastic of your panties down to your knees, and there they fall on their own to your ankles.

Quickly wiping your hands on a dish towel, you glance over your shoulder as he pushes his sweatpants and boxers just below his cock so he can stick it inside you in one swift motion.

The pressure of his cock filling you up to the hilt almost makes you come at first contact, thanks to his handy work. You're juiced up and ready for him to pound you like a madman. He slips in and you so fast, your breathing turns quickly into desperate moans that melt with the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours. You brace yourself to the edge of the sink, while his fingers tips dig at the curves of your hips, keeping you in place while he enters the final stretch. It's loud and hot and soppy when he gives you that last heavenly push that unties that knot in your core that blossoms into one of the wildest orgasms you've ever felt. As your walls contract around him, his seed is spilled to paint your tender walls hot white and sticky.

[obsidianbaby]

I DONT SHARE

this is pt 2 of " FUCKING BROWNIES"

read pt 1 here :

synopsis - you've been best friends with the triplets for a few years and you're currently visiting them in LA. After your hot sneaky hook up with chris, matt cannot keep his attention off of you.

warnings/notes - angst, matt! x reader, fingering, spit kink, voyeurism, choking, slight praise kink, themes of possession

a/n - this is the sequel of my first ever sturniolo smut so i hope y'all like where the plot is goingggggg (she thick) okok enjoy mwah

_____________________________________________

It's after 11pm and the brownies finished baking an hour ago, the boys and I are currently enjoying them on the couch while watching a movie.

I sit squished between chris and nick, leaning on nick's shoulder with his arm around me and my legs extended across chris's lap, his hands mindlessly rubbing my legs. Matt sits uninterested and incredibly quiet on the furthest part of the couch from us, face buried in his phone.

"Matt you good?" Chris asks looking over at Matt from his spot on the couch beside me. Matt ignores him and continues to stare blankly at his phone.

"Mattttttt are you going to try our brownies or what??" I ask staring at him wondering what's crawled up his ass in the past hour.

At the sound of my voice he looks up from his phone at me for a mere second before returning his attention to his phone.

"If you don't have some now these fuckers are going to end up finishing the pan" Nick says looking towards Matt. Matt heavy sighs and puts his phone down before turning to us.

"Nah im good, not hungry." he says cooly.

"what? bro I thought you wanted some brownies..?" Chris asks smirking in confusion looking from Matt to me, I shrug my shoulders at him.

"yeah not anymore, lost my appetite for brownies. I think i'll just go clean up the kitchen." He replies, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

"sounds good to me" Nick adds jokingly.

"wait let me help you" I say, sitting up getting ready to stand up. Chris tightens his grip on my legs and looks at me intensely. I bite my lip at the feeling of his grip on my legs and I raise my eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and pouts at me, not wanting me to leave my place from the couch. I just roll my eyes at him and continue to get off the couch following Matt into the kitchen.

"what can I do to help?" I ask matt politely while standing beside him at the counter.

without looking over at me he scoffs, "you're grown do you really need me to assign you a task?"

baffled but not wanting to poke the bear I step away from him and start to gather the utensils and mixing bowls to wash in the sink.

I start to mindlessly hum while washing the dishes in the sink and matt walks up closely behind me softly saying, "I was going to wash the dishes" i feel his hot breath on my neck.

"don't worry i've got it how about you just go watch the movie matt, i know you're not feeling well" I say keeping my body turned towards the sink.

"excuse me? What makes you think i'm not feeling good?" he asks with an tone.

"probably because of your sudden attitude?" I say bluntly as i continue to focus on washing the dishes. He lets out an unamused chuckle before wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind.

"I'm fine, really" he says, nuzzling his head into my neck.

"are you sure? you can tell me what's bugging you ya know?" i say lowly so only he can hear. He shifts behind me and sighs, his arms lazily hugging me still.

"i know but i'm fine" he whispers against my neck, shivers erupt down my spine.

"okayyyy whatever you say matthew" I say as i finish putting the clean dishes on the drying rack. I turn around in his arms and let him hug me tightly, putting my face in his chest.

"hey are you coming back to watch the movie?" chris calls suddenly from the couch and i swing my head towards him, his jaw clenching.

"uh yeah I just want to wipe down the table and counters first." Chris gives me a thumbs up and goes back to watching the movie. "Matt are you gonna join us after i finish cleaning?" I ask breaking apart the hug to look up at him. He smiles at me and nods.

"only if i can have my turn with you as my blanket." He says smiling cheekily. I laugh and shake my head at him.

"of course matt I know how to share" I say with a wink before turning away from his hold to wipe down the counters and table. Matt just leans against the sink and watches me contently. "hey i thought you came in here to clean?" I say teasingly to matt, my back to him as i bend over the table to reach the other side with the cloth. I can feel matts stare on me and I turn around the face him, his eyes already locked on mine and he blushes.

"yeah but you gave me the day off so" he says crossing his arms across his chest smiling at me.

"whatever. I'm done now anyways lets go" I say, tugging his arms and he gives up his hold and allows me to tug him to the couch with me.

He takes a seat beside chris leaving an obvious spot in the middle of him and chris for me to take. I sit in between them deciding to keep to myself.

Chris immediately leans his head on my shoulder and i can feel matt staring at us. I look over to matt and he smiles before grabbing my legs and pulling me closer to him so my legs lay horizontally across his lap, my ass half on his lap. Chris shifts his position and pulls my shoulders gently so that my head rests on his lap and he begins to run his fingers through my hair.

"well you three look incredibly comfortable, I'm gonna head up to bed now" Nick says standing up before turning to me, "and thanks for cleaning up the kitchen" he smiles, continuing to the stairs up to his room.

"hey i helped" matt adds jokingly.

"wrong" I say looking at matt.

"you did not" nick adds before disappearing up the stairs.

"not my fault you didnt let me" matt says raising his hands up and i roll my eyes.

While chris continues to run his fingers through my hair, matt places his hands firmly on my thighs, his fingers resting in between. Matt starts to softly trace his fingers along the inside of my thighs and my core begins to tighten.

I look at Matt with a questioning look and he just winks cheekily at me continuing to rub my inner thighs, causing my panties to grow wetter by the second. My breathing starts to pick up and its as if chris can hear my raising heartbeat, he looks down at me from where my head rests on his lap.

"you good?" he asks quietly, gently caressing my cheek with his hand to tilt my face towards him. I nod not being able to get any words out worried that a moan might escape my lips instead. He smirks at me and turns his attention back to the tv.

When i notice chris's attention is no longer on me apart from his hands buried in my hair, i look back at matt, his gaze still on me, making my cheeks flush.

I look down at his hands that keep inching further and further up my inner thighs towards my heat thats now pulsing so hard he can probably feel it.

"hey chris, pass me that blanket will ya?" matt nods to the blanket beside chris. Chris reaches beside him and hands the blanket over my head to matt. Matt lays the blanket over our laps now shielding his hands that are currently tracing lines around my bikini line.

I bite my lip holding matt's intense gaze and he smirks at me before he finally breaks the stare and turns to watch the movie. He then leans over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote and turns the tv up to a ridiculous volume.

Chris looks over at matt, "dude are you deaf?"

"i just turned it up a little relax" matt says while he watches the movie intently and i watch him. He then looks over at me sensing my stare, "be a good girl and watch the movie" he says quietly, before turning back to the tv. I gulp hard and do what he says, licking my lips with anticipation.

Matt's hands suddenly graze under my shorts and start playing with the hem of my panties causing my to involuntarily buck my hips. Chris snaps his attention to me and then to matt and then back to me with a questioning look.

"sorry im fine" I say instantly looking over at Matt who has a cocky smile on his face as he continues to watch the tv.

"hey i just gotta move you for a sec," chris suddenly says, gently moving my jaw to look up at him, "i'll be right back okay?"

"mhm" i respond as chris smoothly scooches his lap from under my head and walks away down the hall towards the bathroom.

Matt whips his head towards where chris just walked off to and then down at me and he smiles, "how long do you think he'll be?" his eyes looking black with hunger.

"why? you tryna get handsy with me while chris is in the bathroom down the hall?" i say jokingly trying to act like what matt is doing to me isn't driving me fucking insane.

"hmm i dunno..." he says as he lets his fingers slip under my panties and he quickly runs his fingers through my slick once.

"matt!" i gasp, "what the fuck are you doing...?" i say trying hard to hide the smirk growing on my face.

"what? you said you know how to share, dont you? and I want to take my turn now." he says daringly as he intently holds my stare while he slips his fingers through my slick once more. "do you not want to share with me anymore?" he asks, bringing his thumb to my sensitive bud and pressing down firmly on it, my hips bucking up against his touch.

"fuck matt please" i say my head rolling back and my legs relaxing into his touch.

"i'll take that as a yes" he says as he moves his fingers through my slick a few times before he plunges two into my heat as deep as he can. my hips jolt and i moan his name.

"atta girl" he says as he continues to pump his fingers hard against my spongy walls, curling them up perfectly to hit my sweet spot with every thrust.

the knot in my stomach building as he works his finger inside of me and he brings his other hand to grab my throat grabbing firmly. I gasp at his movement and look up at his blown out pupils.

"matt" i whine through suppressed breaths and he smiles devilishly at me, his thumb pressing firm tight circles on my clit.

"i know you may enjoy sharing, but i don't" he says biting his lip as he watches my face scrunch with pleasure. I look at him with a raised brow.

"wha what do you mean?' i mumble

"i mean you're mine and i dont share." he says nodding towards the bathroom where chris walked off to minutes ago. I begin to open my lips again but my word are taken from me as he adds a third finger inside me, slamming them against my sweet spot and i moan out his name.

"open your mouth" he says, his hand still firmly gripping my neck and i part my lips staring up at him. He spits in my mouth, "swallow" he says cooly and i do. "good girl".

"matt m'gonna cum" i mumble, my head getting dizzy from his grip around my neck and the knot in my stomach hanging on the edge.

"uh uh uh not until you agree with me" his hungry eyes looking intensely into mine, his three digits slowing their pace inside of me causing me to clench my thighs around his hand.

"agree with what matt?" i say through labored breaths.

"that you're mine" he says, leaning his face towards mine as he moves his hand from around my neck to my jaw and grips it firmly, lifting my face to meet his. I bite my lip at his words, knowing what he is implying at.

"matt please" i beg, pain starting to take over from my high not being reached.

"say it"

"im yours matt only yours"

and with my words he plunges his fingers knuckle deep into my heat as he aggressively pushes his lips onto mine. The kiss is hungry and needy and he forces my lips apart with his tongue to explore.

my walls clench around his fingers and i moan into his mouth, and he continues to twirl his tongue around mine, fingers deep inside of me as i ride out my high.

once the waves of my arousal stop pouring out around his fingers he removes them and sticks them into his mouth, watching me intently as he sucks and licks my juices from them.

"you taste better than i thought you would." he says casually and i laugh at his words trying to process my second orgasm of the night.

"what the fuck matt" i say slumping into the couch, bringing my hands up to my neck where i can still feel the pressure of where his grip was.

chris comes strolling into the kitchen from the hallway and matt grins at me, his fingers still in his mouth.

"hey matt did you finally get a taste?" he asks as he makes his way to the couch sitting next to where my head rests.

we both look over to him in shock at his words.

"the brownies..?" he asks curiously, pointing to the tray still sitting on the coffee table.

"oh yeah i got a taste." matt responds, removing his fingers from his mouth.

"and..? what do ya think?" chris asks.

"fucking perfect." matt states, smiling at me.

_____________________________________________

CHRIS POV

The way matt's not even hiding it, rubbing her thighs right beside me for me to see.. I can feel her breathing heavily in my lap, watching her licking her lips and staring at him.

As soon as matt asked for the blanket i knew he was going to try something and fuck me i couldn't stay to watch it, I had to leave the room, seeing her body react like that from matt's touch and not mine?

Once I got to the bathroom i splashed some cold water on my face and sat down on the floor.

Minutes pass and I could hear her fucking gasping and moaning his name. Which I hate to admit got me hard. so hard that it ached, not having jerked off my previous boner from earlier tonight with her in the kitchen.

I sit, leaned against the door and close my eyes, listening to her moans and imagining im the one thats pulling them from her instead as i slip my hand around my hard cock and pump until i finish with her.

___________________________________________

a/n - i had the roughest plan for this when i first started cooking so the ending is just as surprising to us both. Hope yall enjoyed ittttttttttt. part 3 anyone? <3

dts - @adg-h16 @stasiesturn @thatssocancelled @aurizp @maryx2xx @sturnthepot @nickgetsmewetter @schlutt4matty @fratbrochrisgf @lovingregulusblack @annasturn0lo @thepubeburgler @6ix9inewiturmom @ribread03 @gabrielle-brun1 @trevor-777 @mattslolita @mattsgf68903 @aliceloveschris @starsturns234

[whomeidontknowthem]

Punishments

Content warning: discussion of past child abuse (physical and emotional), mentions of scars, starvation, punishments.

Caretaker saw the exact moment Whumpee's scarred hands relaxed, releasing the plate to its short attempt at flight. The shatter didn't even sound that loud with all the TV noise and running water in the background, but Caretaker felt his attention sharpen, focusing on the teen's face. Whumpee's expression was carefully neutral; only their eyes shined with something wild. Caretaker put the knife by the cutting board, turned the fire under the pan down and faced the kid.

"Okay," he said, keeping his voice level. "Why did you do that?"

Whumpee met his eyes with something like a challenge. "You have to punish me now," they stated, tone forcefully brave. Caretaker saw the way they shifted, moving their hands behind their back, hiding the way they had to shake.

He hummed, taking a moment to think the situation through. "I told you last time that I won't be punishing you."

"You said you wouldn't punish an accident," Whumpee corrected. "This isn't an accident. I did it on purpose. You saw it. You have to punish me now."

"I won't," Caretaker repeated. The kid stared at him, wide-eyed. He sighed, "I really did mean when I said it. There are no punishments here. I won't hurt you. We'll just clean up the glass together, and—"

"What if I refuse to clean," Whumpee demanded. Caretaker raised his brows before wrangling his expression back under control. It was nearly the first time Whumpee dared to interrupt — rude, definitely. It made them feel more like an actual teen. Teenagers just had to be bratty from time to time. It was healthy for them. Caretaker hadn't got to be a father to one, but he was sure of that.

"Well, then I'll have to clean it up by myself," He shrugged. He made sure to sound unbothered. "I'll have to do it before cooking, of course, so the dinner's gonna have to wait."

The kid seemed to freeze at that, their body going unnaturally still in a way that screamed Caretaker did something wrong. But before he could ask, Whumpee wondered, voice tight, "No dinner?"

Ah. "Of course not," Caretaker hurried to assure. Whumpee was still too thin, they'd been starved before. "There will be dinner, just slightly later without your help. You'll get to eat either way."

Caretaker smiled, hoping it would get the kid to relax. It didn't: their face only seemed to grow tenser. They stared at Caretaker, thinking about something. Then: "What if I break another plate?"

"Ah," Caretaker replied, lightly. "I would really rather you didn't? It would be rather inconvenient."

"What if I break two more?" The teen continued. "Three? All of them?" It sounded like a challenge. They moved their hand to where the clean plates stood in a nice careful stack, freshly washed and settled by the sink.

Caretaker took a deep breath. "I would really rather you didn't," he repeated. "Those cost money. We'll have to eat from the salad bowl and it won't be convenient, and then go to a shop to buy more."

"You'll have to punish me," Whumpee insisted.

"I won't hurt you, kid. No matter what you do—"

"What if I hurt you," they replied instantly and flinched, as if scared by their own forcefulness. Even then, they didn't back down. "What if I— if I punched you. You can't just let it go. What if I kick you or- or take the knife," they said and gestured to the counter, barely missing the cheerful cup with childish scribbles for a pattern perched at its edge.

Caretaker took a deep, deep breath and answered, weighing each word carefully, "if you attack me, I would have to stop you," he stated, as calmly as he could. The idea of having to fight the terrified kid with a knife was not an appealing one. He silently prayed it would not get to it. "I'd try to restrain you so you don't hurt me. I'd wait for you to calm down, and then we'd sit down to talk some more. I won't hurt you."

You're angry," Whumpee pointed.

Caretaker huffed, "I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm… Frustrated," he relented and sighed. He felt extremely unprepared for the conversation. "Look, kid. I know you expect me to be like that asshole. But I won't be. I'll try my damn hardest to make sure of that."

"You don't like this conversation," Whumpee stated, again.

Caretaker shook his head, "no."

"What if I make it continue? What if I anger you?"

"If you do anger me, I will leave the room until I calm down. I won't hurt you just because I don't like a conversation," Caretaker promised.

Whumpee stared at him, lips pressed tightly. They reached out and took the stack of plates.

Caretaker watched them closely. "Look, Whumpee…"

"You can't just let me act like this!" They yelled. Caretaker couldn't help their brows rising at the sudden shift in tone. As if the scream broke the dam, the other reactions poured out of them: the trembling fingers, the suddenly wet, shaky breaths, the need to blink and look up to hold back the tears. Caretaker shifted his weight, unsure if he should step closer or remain where he was. Even after months of living together, knowing whether the teen needed comfort or space at any given moment was beyond him.

He settled on continuing with the words, "Whumpee. Even if I disapprove of your actions, I will not hurt you for them. I'll talk to you, I'll ask you to help clean up afterwards, I'll try to help you find out what's wrong and how to make it better so you don't have to throw dishes around. I will not hurt you."

"But what if it doesn't make me learn? What if I don't follow the rules, and- and act like a brat and I don't listen to you and I never- I never stop? You'll have to punish me, you'll have to get rid of me, you can't just- you can't just let me do whatever! You can't just! How can I learn if there's no punishment!"

"You've learned how to wash dishes well enough," Caretaker pointed out.

"It's different!"

"How so?"

Whumpee stared at him, and seemed to come up with no answer. Their fingers slackened around the stack, and Caretaker mentally prepared to not react when all of the dishes inevitably touched the floor. Whumpee sucked in a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob and settled the plates back onto the counter. "I don't understand," they slumped above the dishes.

"It's okay," Caretaker assured them. "You don't have to understand for it to be true." He let out a tentative breath and stepped closer, carefully choosing empty spots between the broken glass, but didn't reach out to touch. By now, he knew well enough not to — he'd been witness to how even the most innocuous of actions could throw them off and straight into panic, especially when they were already agitated.

"It isn't," they didn't look at him. "It's not how it works. You can't possibly expect to raise a— you had a daughter, hadn't you?" Caretaker froze, glad that the teen couldn't see his face. She was not a topic either of them breached; Whumpee knew she'd died; they knew the thought was still upsetting for Caretaker and were careful to never bring it up despite how obvious the ghost of her existence was still around the house in every bright colored piece of wallpaper and childish drawing kept on the wall. They continued on, either ignorant to his reaction or choosing to ignore it. "Surely you didn't just allow her to do whatever! There need to be rules, need to be limitations and consequences!"

"Whatever was given to you as 'rules and consequences' wasn't that, kid," Caretaker leaned on the counter and studied the ceiling. "Discipline isn't an excuse for cruelty."

"You have to have punished her."

"I have," he admitted and turned to the teen only for his gaze to settle on the cheerful little cup. "I wasn't as good of a father as I hoped I'd be. Children are frustrating — they are meant to be. If I knew how little time we had — how precious she was even at her worst, — maybe I'd have acted differently. God knows I wish I have. Whether she'd lived for longer or, well..." he swallowed. Shook his head. "You deserve better, anyway, and so — I'm trying."

"...Whumper said he loved me. This was why he had to make sure I had motivation to learn to be better. To not be a brat. He wanted me to be good."

Caretaker studied the face of the teen — the lines around their eyes and mouth despite the calm voice. The way they gripped the edge of the countertop and didn't seem to see anything before them. He sighed, deeply, and stated, "He was a fool and an asshole."

Whumpee didn't answer that, only tightened the grip. Caretaker had never heard them say a single bad word about Whumper. Despite the scars and the panic attacks, they seemed determined to never acknowledge the harm they had suffered; whether the kid genuinely didn't blame him or just kept their thoughts to themself, Caretaker couldn't know.

He hoped the latter was the case. Whumpee deserved to know that the way they were treated was not right.

"He wanted a perfect child that would never misbehave or bother him, and it's not possible. Hell, even an adult can't just never bother anyone else. We are all nuisances to each other. He demanded you weren't and punished you for not achieving the impossible all the time. It's on him, not on you."

The teen listened, Caretaker could tell, thought about it, seriously considered the idea for a while.

"Nobody would want a child who doesn't behave," they stated finally.

Caretaker huffed, frustrated. "If someone only wants a perfect child, they shouldn't be a parent to begin with."

"You wanted your daughter to—"

"I did not!"

They froze after that, both of them.

Caretaker slowly breathed out and unclenched his fists. He shouldn't be angry, he reminded himself. He shouldn't — the kid needed him to be calm and comforting. The memories of his daughter, taken from him so young, too young, by an illness he noticed too late, clung to his mind, too close and too real and too painful. He rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry, kid, I didn't mean to yell," he turned to Whumpee. They were still unmoving, still tense, as if waiting for a strike. Caretaker felt a wave of guilt wash over him. This child needed him to be much, much better. At moments as such he wondered how anyone could think that he could do this. How anyone could trust him with a kid at all, after he'd already failed once. There had to be someone better, he thought. There had to be.

"Let's just finish dinner together and go watch some movie, what do you think?" he proposed, keeping the tone light. If Whumpee heard how forced it sounded, they didn't show it.

The teen turned, slowly, avoiding looking at Caretaker. He kept the smile on his lips, hands relaxed where Whumpee could see them. That was it. They would go watch a movie and spend time together and talk later, when both have calmed down somewhat.

Whumpee put their hand atop the counter. Before Caretaker could react, they jerked it. Before Caretaker could react, his favorite cup, the one his daughter took such pleasure decorating, was already flying towards the floor. It shatter sounded like thunder in his ears.

Caretaker breathed in. Counted to ten. Breathed out. Repeated, over and over, eyes focused on the colorful shards, until he was certain he could keep his tone calm.

"This," he didn't raise his head but heard the teen step away, "was a jerk move."

"I'm so—" they stopped themself before the apology was out and gritted their teeth. Caretaker breathed, and then breathed some more, and even longer still, pushing down every bit of irritation and anger. Teens were meant to be bratty. Children were meant to be a bothersome nuisance that tested the patience of every adult stuck to be responsible for them.

Whumpee needed him to be calm. Needed to learn they were safe even if they misbehaved.

"Will you help me pick up the glass?" He finally raised his gaze. Whumpee was pale, eyes wide and lips tightly pressed in a scared line. They held his gaze and shook their head even as they stepped backwards, determination mixed with panic.

"It's okay," Caretaker kept his voice calm. "If you don't want to help, go watch some TV, will you? I'll call you when dinner is ready."

Whumpee stepped backwards again, flickering their gaze towards the living room before settling on watching his movements again. He raised his hands slowly and didn't move any closer.

"I'm still not going to hurt you." They didn't look like they believed, so he added, "I'm mad. You knew it was important to me and you knew it'd... hurt me." He relaxed his face as it contorted into a grimace. "I hope you don't do anything like this again. You're not getting punished. The dinner will be ready in an hour. I would appreciate some space until then. But if you need something, you can still come to me."

They watched him for long moments before slowly backing out of the kitchen. They didn't look away until they were behind the corner, and only they did Caretaker release a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Teenagers. Dealing with a teenager, especially such a traumatized one, was definitely far beyond what he was ever prepared to do.

He picked up the glass — both the plate and the cup combined — one little piece after the other, careful of the sharp edges. The cup had shattered into six bigger pieces, the silly snake with google eyes around the handle left unharmed while Caretaker had to try to put together the stick figures holding hands under a tree. There were still parts missing, the pieces so small he had little hope of finding them.

He sighed. Threw all of the glass in the trash bin. Vacuumed the spot quickly. Continued chopping the vegetables.

When he called Whumpee for dinner, they didn't respond. Caretaker could hear the TV still speaking in the living room but no sound from the teenager. It was normal, though, they were often awfully quiet.

He found them, huddled in a blanket and staring at the screen with unseeing eyes, when he brought two plates to the couch. They jerked when the cushion shifted under his weight and eyed Caretaker warily.

"You should eat," he pushed a plate across the coffee table, and they picked it up after a few bits of hesitation.

The dinner passed in silence, as did the rest of the evening. Caretaker put the plates away himself, ignoring the way the kid tensed when he moved closer to them, then returned to the couch, settling at the far corner. When he noticed Whumpee glance towards him, he patted the cushion at his side and put an arm over the sofa's back, but didn't insist when the kid quickly looked away.

They watched the TV in silence. It took the teen half an hour to move slightly closer, and even longer before they were sitting truly by his side. Caretaker kept his eyes on the screen as he dropped his arm over their shoulders in a semblance of a hug. They tensed immediately, breath hitching like an animal caught in a trap, and the man wondered if it was a mistake. If he'd overstepped and the kid needed something else from him. He debated pulling away and apologizing, but Whumpee beat him to it. He let them go the moment they moved away.

They returned a few minutes later, and only moved closer when he hugged them this time. They were choosing to come and were allowed to be as close or as distant as they needed, Caretaker tried to convey, keeping their arms loose. They were welcomed anyway, he tried to say through the gentle long strokes down their back as Whumpee pressed close to him.

They fought very hard to keep their sobs silent despite the shaking shoulders. Caretaker didn't comment on the growing wet patch on his chest, only kept them close and safe in his arms as the precious, bothersome and loved despite that kid they were.

When three days later he came from work to the sight of a cheerful cup at the table, he didn't recognize it for what it was the first few minutes. It was too familiar, had been a constant of his life for years, and as much as he'd missed it before it wasn't until he reached out to pour hot coffee in it that his brain caught up with it being back.

He stared at the snake's googly eyes and the uneven glue lines keeping the glass together.

It was hideous, truly. The scribbles had never been the pinnacle of artistry to begin with, and it was obvious the teen had never had to glue anything together in their whole life, and they definitely didn't think about polishing it or even just flattening the glue chunks. And it certainly wasn't usable anymore. Caretaker would not risk neither poisoning nor it falling apart in his hands from the boiling water.

It was absolutely perfect.

A work of his two kids, coming together despite the time and never having met.

He grinned as he put it as a centerpiece on a shelf where everyone could see it.

Maybe he was doing something right, after all.

[a-write-for-soreeyes]

Yes, Chef [OPLA Sanji x Afab!Reader SMUT]

Pairing : OPLA Sanji x Chef (AFAB) Reader

Summary : Sanji is the only one you call 'Chef'. One night when you're the only ones working the late shift he finally confronts you about why.

Warnings : 18+ !!!!!!, NSFW/SMUT, Semi-public sex (kitchen), Oral (fem receiving), some slight dirty talk?, the apron stays ON during foreplay, Use of the term 'Chef' in a sexual way, Top!Sanji, Bottom!Reader

Word Count : 3685 (good lord)

A/N : I have never written smut before but I think this went really well! I had one quote (that quote from Fleabag the hot priest says) and a dream (sanji brain rot and my sexy playlist), so please feel free to leave your thoughts! <3

“y/n I think we’ve known each other long enough you can stop calling me ‘Chef’.”

“Yes, Chef I know” You said, carefully placing the garnish on the plate of steak and seared vegetables at your station. It was the last call of the night and of course a group had walked in right as you and Sanji had finished clearing your stations for the night.

Placing the final plate on the counter you hit the bell, one of the servers came through the doors to the kitchen grabbing the plate and turning on their heel pushing through back to the rowdy group of pirates in the dining room. Turning back to your station and beginning to stack your pots and pans, placing the used utensils inside the pot and carrying them over to the sink, ready to re-wash them.

A comfortable quiet had washed over the kitchen, only broken by the boisterous chatter from the last table of the night. “You can head out if you’d like. I’m going to put together a new dessert I’ve been practicing for these gentlemen, hopefully get them to tip better after coming in right before closing.” Sanji had called from across the kitchen while grabbing ingredients from the pantry.

“Chef, if you don’t like my company you can just say and I’ll get out of your hair.” You joked,

“Ay don’t you ever say that gorgeous, you know I love your company,” Sanji flirted pausing next to you, “Someone with good looks and good conversation, how could I not want you around?” He winked, continuing his stride back to his station.

“I think I’ll stick around once I’m done with these if it’s all the same to you, Chef. You know how much I love to taste whatever new recipes you put together.” You replied with a smile. You really did enjoy being able to be the first person to taste all of Sanji’s cooking, and you suppose being the only person in the kitchen late at night, with your criminally good looking coworker wasn’t so bad either. Rolling up your sleeves and plunging your hands into the warm water of the sink you began to scrub at your dishes.

You scrubbed in silence for a few moments, washing the grime and the stress of the day away. “Really y/n, you can go home I really don’t mind,” Sanji walked next to you leaning his side against the counter stacked high with plates and cups that would need to be washed during tomorrows slow hours, “You’ve already stayed late enough, just finish up your dishes and turn in for the night.” Out of the corner of your eye you could see him looking over your face,

“It’s fine, Chef you know I would probably be awake anyw-” Your sentence and scrubbing stopped as Sanji reached forwards wiping a smear of some ingredient from your cheek, letting his thumb linger on your cheek for just a moment, your face heating at the intimacy of the moment.

“Sorry love,” He said, pulling his hand away from your face and placing it back on the counter next to you, “Couldn’t focus on your beautiful face with something covering it.” 

This has always been the game between the two of you. When you had joined the Baratie’ crew almost 3 years ago, Sanji had started working his charm on you from day one, flustering you everytime causing you to always avoid his flirtatious gaze. Although it had taken you about two months to get comfortable with the pleasure he takes in flirting with you, (leaving you mildly excited each time he had thrown a nickname your way) the day that you did start flirting back was possibly the best day of Sanji’ life, (although he wouldn’t be admitting that to anyone anytime soon) and possibly the worst of yours. The embarrassment you felt every time you gave a flirtatious response, effectively causing you to never have the guts to look him in the eyes.

And although his flirting was nothing new, something about being the only people in the quiet kitchen after a busy Friday night, had the soft way Sanji was speaking to you to have a new feeling behind it.

“Sanji, I’m fine really. I’ll finish these up and then I want to taste whatever you’re supposed to be cooking over there, for our lovely guests.” You softly broke the tension, not looking up at him from the murky water. Sanji chuckled and pushed off the counter, making his way back to his abandoned pastry mix. Resuming your washing the both of you working contently in each other's presence.

—-

Placing the last of your now clean dishes back at your station and wiping your hands on the towel you always had draped over the string of your apron. Slugging your way over to Sanji's station, you hiked yourself up onto the counter next to him, huffing out a quiet “Whatever you’ve got baking smells amazing Chef. I can’t wait to taste whatever it is.”

Sanji chuckled, continuing to whisk whatever he was whipping up for a “quick dessert”.

“They’re strawberry macarons, with an easy butterscotch drizzle on top.”

“Ah yes Chef, a very simple dessert, definitely not a complicated pastry that can take years to master.” Laughing, Sanji put down the bowl and grabbed his dish towel, turning towards the oven behind him, taking hold of the hot baking sheet in his covered hand. Turning back to you he gently swatted your side, placing the hot tray down where you had been sitting.

“For your information the pastry is not the hard part for me. It’s the filling that always gets me.”, Using his one hand to pull the macaron shells up from the pan, Sanji stuck his finger in the bowl on his right swiping up some of the filling he had been whipping up on his finger, and held it out to you, “Here give this a try, I know it’s missing something I just can’t quite place it.”

Seeing Sanji hold his finger out, covered in the pink buttercream filling, you made the conscious decision that this was going to be your winning move in this game of cat and mouse you and him had been playing for the past years. You leaned forwards and wrapped your mouth around his finger, the taste of the sweet icing flowing over your tongue. Swirling your tongue around his finger to get the last of the filling off of his digit.

“It’s good. Could maybe use a little more powdered sugar, get it to thicken up a bit more.” You shrugged.

 Sanji was silent. Not even a flirtatious remark about how ‘you’re all the sugar I need sugar’ just silence. Looking at Sanji directly (for possibly the first time in months) you were shocked at the way he was looking at you. So gently, so full of love and something else you couldn’t quite place. Surprise? Uncomfortability? You weren’t sure, only assuming the worst, regret flooded your body immediately. Sanji opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, hanging your head,

“I-I’m so sorry Chef, I-I don’t know what I was thinking, I guess I just thought it would be funny considering how much we fake flirt with each other, but I’m now realizing that that was WILDLY inappropriate especially to someone who is a much better chef than I am- I’m so so sorry Chef-”

“Ah, fuck you calling me “Chef” like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it.” Your head snapped up to look him directly in the eyes.

“Wha-what?”

“You heard what I said.” He smirked at you, blond hair falling in front of his left eye, “The way you say it any moment you possibly can, ‘yes Chef’, ‘I’m sorry Chef’, ‘Of course I can Chef’. You think I haven’t noticed how I’m the only one you call that?” Sanji stalking around the counter, placed one hand on the counter at either side of you.

He leaned into you, his hot breath fanning over your neck, “Everytime you say that stupid fucking title,you know what it does to me. What it makes me think of.”

Shivering at the feeling of his breath you turned your face towards him, “And what does it make you think of, Chef?” A low rumble reverberated from Sanji’ chest, now pressing up close to you.

Sanji tilted his head, lips just barely ghosting over yours, “Would you like me to show you?” You gave an embarrassed nod.

His lips were soft against yours, tasting of cigarettes and the mint he used to try and cover the previous. Pushing himself up against you, you could feel your underwear beginning to slick. Teeth clashing together you ran your hand up Sanji’ back, neck and up into his blonde hair. One of his own hands wrapping around your waist, the other sliding up the front of your apron and giving your breast a soft squeeze. You gasped, and fast as lightning Sanji slipped his tongue into your mouth exploring it with a small groan at the feeling.

Using the heated kiss as a distraction Sanji began to unbutton your uniform, pausing every few buttons to bring his hands up to your face, deepening your make out before going back to his main mission of releasing you from your shirt.

Finally undoing the final button of your uniform Sanji reached into your shirt with one hand swiping over your tit, causing it to harden under his calloused hand, even with the fabric of your bra separating them. Although Sanji made quick work of that issue, easily reaching around you and unclasping the irritating bra pulling it down under your breasts, allowing them to bounce slightly with the force of your making out. Removing his other hand from your waist Sanji roughly cupped your breasts in his hands bringing them out from behind your apron. Squeezing them with his large hands, your apron roughly scraping against the soft flesh, you moaned into the unstopping kisses. Hiking you up onto the edge of the counter Sanji gave himself better access to your chest, leaning down to your right tit and taking it into his mouth, tongue swirling around the nipple, leaving kisses, nips and hickies all around. His left hand grasping at your other tit Sanji pinches at the bud for a few moments before switching. Moans leaving your mouth, you bit your lip nearly drawing blood, as you used one hand to pull his head closer into your chest, the other pulling off his ascot, apron and starting on the snap buttons of his uniform.

“Please, Chef please.” You whimpered, beginning to roll your hips on him, the feeling of his warm mouth on your chest with no friction on your lower parts starting to take its toll on you. Feeling Sanji groan and roll against the counter he pulled back looking at you, hair a mess, eyes glazed over in arousal he ripped the apron and top from off your body, bra following immediately after. During the moment of separation you ripped his now crumpled shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the kitchen out of your vision, which was now focused solely on taking in Sanji’ gorgeous figure.

Grabbing his face and pulling him towards you hungerly you continued to make out. Sanji began to press his body against yours reaching behind your figure to swipe the forgotten baking sheet off the counter creating room for him to be able to push you back into a lying position, the heat of the counter where the hot pans of pastries had just been only seconds earlier caused you to let out a gasp, arching your back to get away from the heat pressing your breasts right into Sanji’s hard chest, his hand going behind you to pull your torso as close to him as possible.

Pulling back from the kiss, Sanji gently laid you down fully on the counter. Running his hands down your sides he began to kiss his way down your body stopping to leave small nips around your chest and hips. Pulling away Sanji started work on your belt, unbuckling it and immediately going for your buttons. You begin to fuss at the feeling of his hands being so close to where you need him but he has yet to touch you.

“I know love, don't worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” he whispered out, pressing a kiss to your thigh as he finally slid your pants off, leaving you in just your panties. Groaning at the sight of you trying to hump the air to get any friction to quell the desire you feel, Sanji brought a finger up to your covered mound, gently ghosting it along causing you to let a loud whimper escape from your lips. “Darling you’re soaked. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you want me to make you feel good?”

Gripping the edges of the counter whimpered “Yes. Yes yes please Chef, please make me feel good.”

Sanji smirked up at you, already fidgeting and he hasn’t even started yet. “Well, when you put it like that. I guess I have no choice.” He pulled your panties down grabbing them in one hand and used the other to grasp your hip bringing your soaked pussy right to him, immediately beginning his assault, licking up your folds and once he reached the top starting to suck on your clit, swirling his tongue around the small bud. Your hand shot down for Sanji’ bleach blond hair, fisting it and using it to pull him right into you, wrapping your legs around his head when he stuck his tongue right into your pussy.

“Oh fuck! Yes, god please!” You moaned, at the sound of your moans and whimpers Sanji could feel the tent in his pants straining, he beginning to slightly hump at the air, getting pleasure from just the motions he made.

Feeling the knot begin to form in your stomach you started to pant and hump his face faster. Sanji getting the message stopped tongue fucking you to resume sucking on your clit bringing his right hand down to your entrance sticking 2 fingers in you easily between the slick and spit that had been pooling there. The pleasure assaulting your senses caused you to lurch forwards, nails scraping against Sanji's scalp causing him to moan against you.

Between the feeling of Sanji sucking on your clit, his fingers rapidly pushing in and out of you and the vibrations of the moans he was letting out you felt the knot in your stomach snap, shaking your felt yourself release all over his face, practically screaming out into the echoes of the kitchen,

“Yes, yes fuck, yes Chef! Fuck!” When the feeling of your first orgasm of the night finished and your clit started to become overstimulated you leant back against your arm, releasing your hold on Sanji's hair to run one hand through it and tried to pull yourself away from his mouth still licking up your wetness and kissing around your nub.

“Uhh, Chef- Chef please too- too much” Pulling himself off of you Sanji leant back on his heels, a string of spit and cum connecting him to you. You took a moment to admire him as he caught his breath. He looked beautiful, face covered in your cum with strings of it and drool connecting the two of you, hair sticking in all directions from your harsh pulling and his eyes, god his eyes he had a look in them you’d only ever hoped to see, he was so drunk on your pussy you’re not even sure he knew where the two of you were right now.

Grabbing his right wrist from where his fingers were still brushing against your pussy lips you pulled him up to you, locking your lips in another kiss, this one much more gentle and soft than the previous rough make out you had. Pushing your tongue into his mouth you could taste yourself on his tongue, occasionally kissing around his mouth and along his jawline to collect more of your slick from his face. Sanji let out a gasp as you kissed up his jaw and to his ear, giving it a slight nip before whispering to him, “You made me feel so good Chef. I wanna do the same for you.”

Standing to his full height Sanji started to work on his belt, hands shaking in anticipation at finally being able to feel you around him. You started work on the button on his bottoms, purposely brushing your hand against his erection feeling it twitch at every touch you gave him. Reaching your hands up to his waistband Sanji pulled down his pants and underwear in one swoop as he stepped out of the pool of fabric now at his feet. Cradling your face in his large hands Sanji ran his thumb down your cheekbone and swiped it over your lips.

"I wanna make you feel good, let me make you feel good.”, You looked up at him with half lidded eyes, your hand lazily wrapping around his hard-on, stroking him and running your thumb over his head using the precum that had begun to bead there as lube for your lazy motions. “Please Chef.” You felt his cock twitch at the title and his breathing hitch.

“We can feel good together love. Just let me take care of you this time.” At that Sanji guided you back to your lying position against the now cold countertop of his work station. Taking a moment to admire you splayed out before him Sanji ran his hands down the backs of your thighs pushing them up to give himself access to your wet cunt.

Rubbing the head of his cock against your folds he collected some of your slick before he watched his cock disappear into you. A growl coming from him as he felt you tighten around his shaft.

Keening at the feeling of yourself stretching around him, your eyes rolling back as he pushed further finally bottoming out. Sanji paused allowing you a chance to adjust to his size he could feel you tighten around him.

Slowly, he began to pull almost all the way out of you before rocking back in, the both of you groaning at the feeling. Sanji looked up at your face, eyes almost completely closed and mouth open gasping in pleasure. He reached forwards grasping your soft hand in his own rough one giving something for you to ground yourself on through the pleasure.

“Chef please-!” you whimpered at the feeling of his thrusts starting to pick up speed.

“Fuck love, you feel so good squeezing around me.” Sanji groaned into your ear, leaving sloppy kisses around your jaw and down your neck, his cock burying into you at a rapid pace.

Your moans and huffs at the overwhelming feelings you were experiencing getting louder with each thrust, to the point you were almost crying out in pleasure. Sanji captured your lips again roughly making out with you in an attempt to quiet you, although between your moans and the squelch of his cock pistoning in and out of you it was nearly impossible to do so.

Sanji could feel his high approaching with each thrust, “I-I’m close, fuck darling you feel so good-” he sighed pressing your foreheads together.

“I-I’m so close, please Chef. Please let me cum please!” You blubbered against his lips, tears beginning to form and run down your cheeks, you could feel every inch of him in you, stretching you, pressing against every part of you, his head kissing your cervix.

“Just a little more baby, just give me a little more.” Pounding into your cunt, slick running down both of you, you wrapped your legs around his back pulling him impossibly closer, the hand that was resting coming down to rub furiously at your clit, “come for me love, come all over my cock.” Your mouth opened in a silent scream as you felt yourself release all over his cock, your pussy clamping down, you cried out,

“Fuck! Chef!”

At the feeling of you cumming around him Sanji knew he just needed a few more before he to came undone, or- “Fuck Sanji!” your eyes rolling back, and that was his breaking point. At the sound of you crying out his name, his real name for the first time since you’ve met, not some title he’d heard a thousand times before, Sanji came. Ropes of his cum painting your insides with his release he shuttered, his vision blanking at the overwhelming bliss he was experiencing from cumming inside you for the first time.

The air between you two hot and heavy as you both stayed still just enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Sanji gave a few final sluggish thrusts to help you both ride the end of your pleasures before the feeling became too much. He pulled out gently being sure not to overwhelm you, the sound of your mixed cum quietly dripping from you both onto the tiled floor beneath him.

Basking in the afterglow of the scene, foreheads pressed together you tilted your head up locking your lips in a tender kiss. Bringing your hand that was not clasped in Sanji's up to caress his face, taking in the way the soft light reflected off his glistening forehead and the beads of sweat that dripped from his disheveled hair down the curves and lines of his face.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed to say that to you, Love.” He chuckled, allowing the seriousness of the moment to fade away into comfortable giggles. “I love you.” He breathed out, gazing at you, trying to memorize everything about you in this moment, from how your messy hair splayed out behind you to the dried tear tracks down your face. Looking back into his blue eyes,

“I love you Sanji.”

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

[puffcap-factory]

Shared Dreams, Blossoming Hearts (Wriothesley x reader)

Wriothesley x fem!reader; fluff, pure fluff, heartwarming.

You were not satisfied with the results of the recent case you had been investigating, but Wriothesley seemed to have his own way to cheer you up. (Basically, it was how the two fall for each other)

Words: 3.3k

Notes:

Another Wriothesley fic because he hot >:-)

Okay, I did say I plan for a series but I don’t think I have the patience… Anyways, you can assume that this is the prequel to the other fic I made (the spicy one here) since I used the same setting for the reader. As always, enjoy!

((Update: a sequel of the story here))

•~•~•~•

You crouched, cradling one of the injured children in your arms, his small form trembling against you. 

How old was he? Five? Seven?

You couldn’t fathom how someone could use these innocent children as unknowing pawns in a smuggling ring for the geode, the case you had been investigating on these past few days.

Before you lay four treasure hoarders, all unconscious, subdued by the elemental power you channeled through your vision. A recon log mek was completely broken, no longer a threat.

Though you could intercept the last escaping group, a sense of incompetence washed over you as you realized you couldn't save the children unscathed. You had feared the worst.

"Y/n!" Wriothesley called out as he dashed towards you, Clorinde and her subordinates following closely behind.

He took a moment to glance at the unconscious bodies of the hoarders, understanding the fact that you had been the one defeating them. However, his attention quickly shifted back to you, observing for any injuries.

"Don't worry," he said in a low, soothing voice, his gaze filled with reassurance. "The healers are ready. You should head back first."

You let a moment sink in as you gently petted the boy's head, a soft, reassuring smile on your face. "Don't worry, these people will take care of you," you said soothingly, trying to comfort the hurting child.

Wriothesley watched you closely, a flicker of warmth crossing his features as he observed this caring side of you. It was a moment that revealed another layer of your character, one that he hadn't seen before.

You let the children got lifted by the healers as you stood up, ready to go back to the fortress. Wriothesley talked to Clorinde in the background before escorting you back.

•~•~•~•

As the direct delegate representing the Palais of Mermoria, you were tasked with reporting directly to Neuvillette for cases concerning the fortress. Over the past few months, you had worked closely with the Duke, primarily focusing on investigations related to the Fortress of Meropide.

Your professional relationship with him was marked by your efficiency, something that Wriothesley greatly appreciated. Calm and composed - as others in the fortress described.

However, the recent particular case you had been working on had proven to be quite tricky. It had been unfolding for several days, involving a group of smugglers with ties to the prison. Your investigation had led you going back and forth between the prison and the upper grounds, tirelessly pursuing leads. 

Sadly, your suspicions about the use of children as decoys had been true all along, adding a disturbing layer to the case. Upon learning that the other party had Wriothesley occupied, you rushed to the site. Time was ticking away as they planned to destroy the evidence for escape, which meant endangering the lives of the children involved.

Fortunately, the children were safe now, but the weight of the case bore heavily on your shoulders. One misstep and everything would have ended much, much worse… Anger and frustration simmered within you, directed towards the people responsible, the unfolding situation, and yourself, for not realizing the danger sooner or saving the children unscathed.

Children— they were innocent childrens. Why...

With a burst of elemental energy, you unleashed your vision against the dummy in the Pankration Ring. The crackling power of your magic lashed out, a physical manifestation of your frustration.

“Wow, that dummy won’t last long if you keep doing it like that.”

Turning your head, you saw Wriothesley casually walking towards you. You fell silent, observing him as he approached, his gaze softening as he scanned your features.

"Don't beat yourself up too much about it," he sighed, sensing your state of emotions. "In fact, I should be the one thanking you. If it weren't for you rescuing the children..." his voice trailed off, the unspoken gratitude hanging in the air.

You looked up at him, changing the topic as you did not want to imagine the worst. "How are the children doing?"

"They're doing well, thanks to Sigewinne's trustworthy potions," he chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "We can check on them later."

A smile tugged at your lips. "Good… that's great. I would love to."

Wriothesley's gaze softened further, a silent acknowledgment of your care for the children.

"…Hey, if there's someone to blame, it would be me. If I wasn't involved in the other group, this may not have happened, true?" he asked flatly.

You paused, considering his words. He had a point, but you never held him responsible.

"Huh, but..." you started, but Wriothesley continued. 

"C'mon, if you want to release some stress, spar with me instead," he said, his lips tugging into a playful smile.

"A spar with the Duke himself? That's... quite the challenge," you chuckled, reluctance in your voice.

You were keenly aware of Wriothesley's physical prowess, not to mention his mastery over his vision. You would never match him in a fight.

"Nonsense," Wriothesley replied with a wave of his hand. "I saw what you did to those treasure hoarders. Use your vision, it's alright. As the ring's rules say, anything goes."

He smiled at you, a hint of challenge in his expression. The prospect of sparring against the Duke of Meropide himself, the champion of the ring, was both daunting and intriguing.

After a moment of consideration, you decided it was indeed a chance to both cool down your mood and train yourself. "Alright, let's do it," you said with a determined nod.

"That's the spirit," Wriothesley's smile grew wider as he made his way to the ring, and you followed him from behind.

Wriothesley tossed his jacket to the side, revealing the well-toned muscles beneath his shirt. The sight of his physique was impressive, a testament to his strength and skill. Even without gauntlets, the icy aura of his vision emanated from him, a reminder of his formidable power.

"No need to hold yourself back, give it your all," he added, his voice firm but encouraging.

With a nod, you mentally prepared yourself for the spar. Without your preferred weapon, you knew controlling your vision fully would be challenging. It felt harder to control without channeling it into a medium—a skill some could master, but it required extensive practice. From what you could tell, Wriothesley was adept at it.

Despite this, you refused to back down. A silent determination fueled your resolve as you admitted to yourself that you did actually want to see Wriothesley in combat—though not necessarily directly against you.

You focused on conjuring your vision into an energy ball, hurling it towards Wriothesley. With a swift sidestep, he dodged the attack and closed the distance between you. Knowing physical combat wasn't your forte, you attempted to keep your attacks ranged.

A slight smirk crossed Wriothesley's face as he started charging at you, clearly understanding your fighting style by now. Despite the challenges of channeling your vision power without a medium, you managed to throw some decent attacks, although most were either dodged or shielded by him.

Your thoughts on strategy were abruptly interrupted as Wriothesley closed the gap, launching into a series of quick and seasoned strikes. Blocking and parrying his blows as best you could, you could feel the icy blasts accompanying his movements. It was clear he wasn't showing his full skill, but even so, his speed and precision were impressive.

Realizing that solely shielding his attacks wouldn't take you anywhere, you focused your vision on creating a small dagger made from your vision elemental energy. With this newfound weapon, you lunged towards him, catching him off guard. Wriothesley dodged backwards, a bit taken aback by your sudden change in tactics.

"Smart move, as expected from you," he complimented. You remained focused and determined, taking measured breaths as the spar continued.

The exchange went rather fiercely, each of you landing blows and dodging strikes in a display of skill and determination. Despite the odds, you managed to hold your ground.

The spar reached its end when the small blade of elemental energy was poised against Wriothesley's neck. He froze, a small smile playing on his lips, admitting defeat in the face of your skill and determination.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, raising his hands in surrender. "You win this one."

You were clearly on edge, your breathing rough and labored in contrast to Wriothesley, who seemed rather unfazed by the recent spar. "You were clearly holding back against me, I can see that," you remarked, a playful glint in your eyes as you breathed in. Despite the intensity of the match and the fact that he was not giving his all, you still felt a sense of confidence building within you.

Wriothesley sighed defeatedly, acknowledging your observation. "C'mon, you think I could bring myself to beat a pretty lady like yourself?" he responded casually, a playful smile on his face. "Unless you really, really, reallywant me to," he added with a chuckle. 

His sweet talk caught you off guard for a moment, but you couldn't help but laugh at his offer. "No thanks," you replied playfully, shaking your head, knowing that you might end up weeks in recovery if he actually did.

Wriothesley grinned at your response. “But, seriously, you’re strong. And clever. With some training I bet you would match the strongest fighter in Fontaine.”

You honestly felt a bit flattered by his words, knowing he was regarding you too highly, but a small mischievous smile appeared on your lips.

"You... or Clorinde?" you teasingly asked him, knowing full well the rivalry between the Duke and the Captain of the Guard. 

Wriothesley chuckled, a hint of mock offense in his tone. "Hey now, I'd like to think I could give Clorinde a run for her money," he replied with a smirk. "But who knows? Maybe we'll have to settle this in a friendly match someday."

You laughed at the idea, genuinely intrigued with the prospect.

Wriothesley smiled contently at your laughter, his eyes warm as he asked after a while, "Feeling better?"

For a second, you forgot that you were here to take out your anger as he asked that. The spar had indeed shifted your mind and mood away from your thoughts. It was a fun experience indeed.

"Yeah, surprisingly, I am," you admitted with a smile, feeling a sense of lightness after the intense spar. "Thanks for the spar, Wriothesley. It was unexpected, but I needed that."

"Of course, anytime," Wriothesley replied, his tone light. "Let's go to the infirmary for a second to make sure everything's good, okay?"

You nodded in agreement as you followed by his side to head to the infirmary, reflecting on his actions towards you. After a moment of silence, you felt compelled to speak up.

"You're a great leader, Wriothesley, no wonder people chose you," you complimented him sincerely. How he had somehow sensed your troubles, and tended to it.

He looked at you for a moment, a bit caught off guard at the sudden serious comment. He thought for a second, before he said with a low tone, “…A lot of people had supported me along the way, I wouldn’t be at this place if not for them.”

You smiled at him, knowing full well that he was trying to be humble. It was true that he had the support of others to become the Duke of Meropide, but it was also true that his own actions had brought him to this position. His proactivity to help others, his ability to gather trust, and his innate instinct to protect those in need were all qualities that made him the natural and respected leader he was today. 

“To be honest, I did feel some disappointment towards myself… But luckily, I got you on my back.” he added, as he managed a smile at you. 

Right. The disappointment did not wear him down. Instead, Wriothesley maintained himself to be the pillar of strength, like any leader would. You truly admired him for this. And how he had tended to you, setting aside his own thoughts… you felt like you were drawn to him. Wanting to support him fully. 

You were about to respond to Wriothesley when you two arrived at the infirmary, greeted by Sigewinne. She seemed to know what you two had been up to, and proceeded to check on you first, then Wriothesley.

"You're all fine! But you might experience some soreness tomorrow, y/n," Sigewinne exclaimed cheerfully.

"That's... for tomorrow's problem," you replied with a sheepish smile. "By the way, when are we going to visit the children?" you turned your head towards Wriothesley, who was casually leaning back against the metal wall.

"Anytime. Now, tomorrow…. There's no urgent task for today, so, I can accompany you if you want to go after this," Wriothesley said, his tone warm and reassuring.

"Oh, the children! They would love a visit from you, y/n. They have been asking a lot about that yesterday," Sigewinne added, giggling softly.

You smiled warmly at the thought of visiting the children. Despite what had happened two days prior, knowing that they were safe and on the path to recovery now brought a sense of relief to your heart. “Then… can we go now?” you said, turning your head towards Wriothesley as you felt a renewed sense of energy filling in. Wriothesley couldn’t help but smile fondly at you. 

•~•~•~•

Wriothesley and you arrived at a place near the Quarter Lyonnais, where the children had been attended to. He observed you closely, walking a bit behind since he knew he wouldn't be recognized by the children, and he knew his appearance could be rather… intimidating. A gentle smile played on his lips as some of the children caught sight of you and ran over, their faces lighting up with joy.

You knelt down to their level, your heart swelling with warmth as you greeted each child with a smile and a gentle pat on the head. One of the older kids, a shy girl, timidly approached and handed you a piece of paper. "Um... this is for you, lady. Thank you… for saving us," her words stumbled as she offered you a drawing. You thanked her warmly, receiving the unexpected present when another boy, whom you had cradled in your arms during the rescue, approached you from the side. He stared at you innocently with his big eyes and asked, his voice soft, "Lady, who is that scary-looking man over there?"

You followed the boy's gaze and looked up to where Wriothesley stood, his imposing figure softened by the warm smile on his face as he noticed your gaze. You couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's innocent question.

“Oh, this man… despite his looks,” you smiled at the boy as you held him gently, pausing for a second, “is one of the kindest and most admirable people I’ve ever met.” You explained as you turned to face Wriothesley, a tender smile on your lips. “Try talking to him, and you’ll see what I mean.”

Wriothesley felt a flutter in his chest as you referred to him, witnessing your interactions with the children. It was as if a delicate bud within him had suddenly bloomed into a flower, its petals unfurling to reveal feelings he had kept carefully tucked away. How long had he been keeping these sentiments? He didn’t know. But in that moment, none of it mattered to him anymore.

As warmth spread through him, he quickly composed himself, maintaining his cool exterior, and hiding any signs of his sudden flush as the boy approached him cautiously. Kneeling down to the boy’s level, Wriothesley smiled warmly.

“Hello there,” he greeted the boy with genuine kindness in his voice. “I’m Wriothesley. I’m glad to see you and your friends are doing well.”

“Mister… Rye-uhh…sslee…?” the boy tried to repeat his name. 

Wriothesley chuckled at the boy's attempt to pronounce his name correctly, patting his head gently. "That's right, you got it!" 

As Wriothesley engaged with the first child, another female child who had been nearby suddenly ran up to him, asking rather loudly, "Mister, is this lady your girlfriend?"

Wriothesley's eyes widened slightly in surprise at the unexpected question, and he glanced over at you with a faint blush coloring his cheeks, though he didn’t shy away from your gaze. You couldn't help but laugh at the innocence of the child's question, but you also found yourself curious about Wriothesley's reaction.

“Hmm, good question. Do you think I make a good couple with her?” Wriothesley asked playfully, turning the question back to the curious young girl.

“Umm, I don’t know! But she is very nice! And pretty!” the girl answered honestly and innocently, just like any children would. 

“Mhm, indeed. She is lovely, I’d rather say,” Wriothesley replied, still facing the girl, his voice low and tender. The young girl giggled in response and ran off to join the other children, just like that. He let a small laugh at the girl’s reaction before turning his head back to face you, smiling.

The unexpected compliment – and his sheer confidence – sent a blush creeping up your cheeks, catching you off guard. Around you, the children giggled and continued playing, unaware of the subtle shift in the air between you and Wriothesley. You managed to give Wriothesley a warm smile in reply, attempting to mask your own shyness. 

You finally spent the evening together with the children playing, also with Wriothesley, who they had instantly warmed up to. As you made your way to the aquabus station to head back with Wriothesley by your side, the atmosphere was filled with a comfortable silence, the echoes of children's laughter still lingering in your ears.

You both traveled casually, the gentle hum of the aquabus filling the air as it glided through the water. The evening sun cast a warm glow over the scenery passing by, creating a serene atmosphere around you.

“I haven’t had the chance to see this side of you until recently,” Wriothesley spoke softly, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “You truly have a way with the children, and it's really heartwarming to see how fond they are of you.”

A soft blush tinted your cheeks at his words, and you met his gaze with a shy smile. “Well,” you replied, “I suppose our duties have kept us occupied, so it's understandable if you hadn’t noticed this side of me before.”

Wriothesley nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “True,” he agreed, “but it’s a pleasant surprise. It's clear that you genuinely care for their well-being, and it's truly admirable.”

“I guess – that makes the two of us,” you replied with a warm smile, feeling a flutter in your chest at his sincerity. You had also witnessed Wriothesley interacting with the children, and it was evident that he was a complete natural, despite his intimidating appearance at first look.

Wriothesley pondered for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Finally, after a moment, he asked you, his body a bit tense, “Say, are you interested in working a bit longer at the fortress?”

You paused, considering the offer. You knew your position at handling the cases in Fortress of Meropide was not going to last forever. But, your time at the Fortress of Meropide had been rewarding, and the thought of working alongside Wriothesley a bit longer was rather appealing. Perhaps… something was also blossoming within your heart.

 “Hmm... I can't see why not,” you replied with a warm smile.

A sense of relief washed over Wriothesley's features at your answer. He let out a sigh as he stretched his back. “Great. Then please remind me to send the letter of request to Neuvillette,” he said, grinning as his voice tinged with anticipation.

Curious, you asked, “And why would you go that far?”

“Because,” he began, his voice low but sure, “I would like to spend more time with you.”

[luvfy0dor]

“I Can't Help But Pamper You ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

warnings; kisses, sassy Fyodor,

description; pampering BSD boys at home? I dunno how else to describe it jdskskkek

A/n; Happy birthday to Dazai and happy Juneteenth!!! I've been swamped with state testing and finals and studying for them, I got three more to go, 3/6 completed. I'm kinda excited for summer but I'll feel like I have nothin' to do. idea cred to @yaeeko and Nikolai scenario inspiration from @ilovechuuy4

Dazai Osamu ★

Dazai is almost never the first one up. Every morning, you take on the responsibilities of an alarm clock by shaking your boyfriend awake from his fifth 'just five more minutes' every morning. You were blessed with weekends off, though, and one Saturday morning when you inevitably woke up before Osamu, you decided to embrace your inner chef. Maybe you're not the best cook, but anyone is better than Dazai, so you did most of the food preparation. You never really made breakfast, though. Dazai usually just took an apple or two and you never had time to power up the stove and make pancake batter or anything of the sort, so this morning, you figured you would. You whipped out a couple pans, and some boxed pancake mix and eggs and got to work. You made sure Dazais eggs were cooked just right before playing them, a long with the less-than-perfect pancakes. Sure they were a little crispy, but Dazai wouldn't mind too much. All that was left to do was grab a fork and syrup and bring the meal back to him in your room. Pushing the door open with your foot, you walked in and set the plate on the nightstand, gently shaking him awake. His brows furrow and his nose scrunched up. "'Samu, wake up, I brought you breakfast." You say, running your fingers through his messy brown hair. He stretches his limbs before peeking open his eyes and smiling. "Did you now? How romantic of you!" He sits up and lets you hand him the plate. "This is so thoughtful of you! Come sit down." He pats the empty spot next to him. You crawl over him to get there and lean onto his shoulder once your fully situated. His nimble fingers grip the fork loosely as he cuts off a sliver of the pancake and holds it up to your lips. "Go on, try it." He encourages and you bite it off of the fork, humming at the taste. "Wow, I did pretty good, huh." You say, satisfied. He nods with a grin, continuing to munch on his breakfast. "Better than that time you burnt gravy." You roll your eyes but nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

Chuuya Nakahara ★

The second you offered a hot shower with Chuuya to unwind one evening, he was happily accepting. He wasted no time heading to the closet to grab a towel, slinging one over his shoulder for you along with his. He let you pull him in by his waist for a kiss while you leaned against the sink, and even though the shower wasn't turned on yet, the mirrors were already fogging up. Your hand creeps up to cup his face, running your thumb over his pronounced cheekbones as he sighs into your kisses. He pulls away, his face flustered and red. "C'mon, let's get into the shower before we end up distracted." He says playfully. He starts to undo his vest and meets you halfway in the middle without having realized that your fingers were fumbling with the buttons too. He chuckles quietly and lets you help him finish undressing before the both of you step into the steamy shower. He hums in contentment at the feeling of the hot water against his overworked muscles, his body immediately relaxing. Your instinct tells you to hug him from behind while the water cascades over the two of you, but you reason that it would be uncomfortably hot, so you opt to wash his body for him instead. He'd let a quiet but pleased sound out at the favor, mumbling thanks and closing his eyes, letting the relaxing water nearly consume him. Chuuya had never loved showers more than he did when he took one with you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Every night before you went to bed, you had a really quick skincare routine. All it really was was washing your face, putting on moisturizer, and using a lip scrub, but you enjoyed it and felt that it did what it was supposed to. Occasionally, Fyodor would stand by and watch, his interest piqued. Sometimes he'd ask questions or make comments on your routine, such as "that must be why your lips are so soft." Or "What exactly does it do for your face? I don't think it can really fix it." I'm a firm believer that Fyodor is actually kinda playful and teases his partner from time to time. "Its not supposed to 'fix it', dumdum. It makes the skin softer 'nd stuff." You'd reply with an eye roll. He'd fall silent for a second, watching as you apply the scrub to your lips. "Can I try it?" You put you finger on your chin and hummed pensively, turning to him and nodding. "I guess." You rummaged through the drawer in the sink for your recently discarded headband with floppy, worn out bunny ears on the top. He leaned against the sink and let you put it on him, pulling it over his head and then pushing it up again to keep his long bangs out of his face. He looked over his shoulder at himself in the mirror while you grabbed your moisturizer and scrub and grimaced. "I look much better with my bangs. This certainly isn't ideal." He'd tell you, turning back to face you, only to be spinned around once again.

"Just splash some water on your face." You say, turning the sink on for him. "Is that really necessary? My shirt is going to get all soaked-" "You can always change, go on, Fedya.' You say, your hand on his lower back as he reluctantly leans over the sink and gently uses his cupped hands to bring the water to his face a couple times. When he stood back up again, water dripped down his skin and from his eyelashes and his cheeks were very slightly flushed. "What now? I'm all cold and wet." He murmurs, standing stiffly as the droplets continue to roll down his face. You grab a small towel and pat his face dry for him, getting to his lips and stealing a quick peck. You then pump some of the moisturizer onto your hand and start rubbing it into his pale skin. The cream leaves a glossy effect afterwards and he runs his fingers over his cheek to feel the smooth texture. He watches you take out the lip scrub and gather some on your finger. "Open up." You say. He raises an eyebrow but parts his lips, slightly grimacing as you aggressively apply the product. "Okay, now rub your lips together." He does as directed and can't help but lick his lower one. "It tastes good, like artificial blueberry." He says and you nod in agreement. "My lips do feel softer, though." He says, continuously feeling them and taking in the softer texture. "Let me feel." You say, gently guiding his hand away from his mouth in order to lean in and kiss him, intertwining your fingers with his as you do so. "Yeah, I think it definetly worked." You mumble as you pull away. Maybe you should rope him into your routine more often.

Nikolai Gogol ★

"Dove, you ever see those people who put on face masks and then they do the whole 'cucumber over the eyes' thing? We should try that!" Your boyfriend calls out to you from the kitchen, searching for the cucumber you bought last week. He finally found it in one of the drawers and quickly grabbed a cutting board and knife. "Where'd that come from?" You ask with a raised eyebrow as you walk into the kitchen, standing at the counter next to him. "I dunno, it just came to mind. Seems fun though, doesnt it?" He chopped six slices off of the cucumber and wrapped it back up to be put back in the fridge. "Yeah, sure." You grab one of the slices and take a bite. "Let me go grab the face masks real quick. Do you want your robe? To enhance the experience?" He grins as he heads down the hallway to the bathroom. "Kolya it's like, a million degrees in here, it's summer and we have no ac, I'm surprised you're not already walking around naked and you wanna wear a robe? You're out your mind." You say, following the white haired man to find him in the bathroom closet, grabbing two charcoal masks. "I'll do as I please, and if that's wearing a fuzzy robe in the summer, then so be it. The cucumbers will cool me down."

You roll your eyes and pull the hair tie you keep on your wrist off to bunch up and hold Nikolais bangs out of his face. "Mm, much better! Let's go, I want to lay down." He says with an excited smile, dragging out along back to the couch. He plops down and sprawls out, half of one leg hanging off the edge. You follow suit but remain sitting up and rip the mask open by the tear strip. "Oops, we forgot the cucumbers in the kitchen." He says, opening his portal and sticking his arm through, pulling it out a couple seconds later with the cucumbers in hand. "Thank you." You say appreciatively. "Now close your eyes." You say, placing two of them on his eyes. "I feel much cooler already." He says, making you roll your eyes with a smile. You squeeze out the mask and spread it onto his face with your pointer finger until it covered most of the surface area except for his lips. "This is so relaxing! I'll have to do yours for you after I'm done with mine." He says, clearly having a great time. You gently massage his scalp while you let him marinate and can't help but be surprised that he hasn't eaten the cucumbers yet. Just as you the thought floats through your head, he reaches over and grabs one of the extra cucumbers on the plate, bringing it to his mouth and practically swallowing it whole. You laugh at him quietly. "I thought those were for me?" He hums to indicate that they weren't as he chews. "Not anymore." You smiled and lean down to peck his lips quickly, feeling your heart flutter with affection for him, just like it did the day you first met. "Alright, Kolya, whatever you say."

Sigma ★

Sigma was very fond of done-up nails, always admiring his customers when they had them painted with colors and sparkles, glossy or matte. One evening, he turned in from his manager job for the night and called out your name, just to find you sitting in bed, cross-legged, painting your nails. His eyes literally up and he walked closer, sitting down next to you. "That's a pretty color. Can you do mine too?" You looked up at him and smiled, shaking your hand to get the polish to dry faster. "Yeah, just give me a second.." you say, blowing your nails and continuously shaking them. It didn't take long for them to dry and you held out your hand for Sigmas. "Alright, let me see." He quickly put his hand in yours. You unscrewed the cap and scraped off the excess nail polish and started painting his left nails. His gaze was fixated on the brush as his nails went from a pale white to a glossy red. You made it to his ring finger before stopping. "Do you want an accent nail?" You ask him. His brows slightly furrowed before a look of realization appeared on his face. "That's when one of them is different, right?" You nod. "Yeah, what other colors are there?"

You reach over to a small, plastic bag on the nightstand and pull out three other polishes, one a shade of purple, a white one, and a black one. "Can I have purple?" You smiled and nodded, unscrewing the cap. "It almost matches your hair." You say, painting his ring finger and then alternating to the red one again for the pinky. "Wave your hand so it dries faster." He does as told. "I'm so happy, I see all these people with nails like this and I've wanted to do mine for a while. Did you know?" You shrugged with a smile, starting on his right hand. "Well, I always see you admire other people's nails, so I figured I'd do mine so you'd give me that attention too, but no, I didn't." You finish up his left hand and instruct him to wave it. "Ohhh...well that's even better because now we can match." He says. His cheeks are a little pinker than before and he takes your hand in his, examining your near perfect nails. "They're so pretty." He mumbles, looking back up at you with his big eyes. "Thank you." You appreciatively say, leaning in to peck his lips. He kisses you back happily and squeezes your hand. He felt so much joy every time he looked at his colored nails, and even more when he saw yours and his together.

A/n; I wasn't gonna put a 2nd a/n but it feels weird not being here, but I don't got nothing to say 🤷

[soldat-buck]

i had a vision while making coffee this morning

bg3 culinary headcanons: Companion Edition

- Shadowheart: absolute zero regard for contamination while cooking. kitchen habits of a permanent bachelor. licks the tasting spoon clean and keeps using it to cook. eats hot cocoa straight out of the container with a spoon. thinks pouring ranch over an entire head of lettuce and eating it like feral animal while holding it over the kitchen sink counts as "salad". if you can get past the contamination thing, the food she makes actually tastes pretty good, even if it's sometimes odd (she cooks like a stoner, despite being perfectly sober. she is just Like That).

- Astarion: perfectly capable of cooking, and actually can cook quite well. food may not taste the same after becoming a vampire, but his enhanced sense of smell tells him nearly everything he needs to know about how to season and cook food properly. he doesn't cook because he doesn't like to (washing dishes? by hand? no fucking thank you, being undead is harsh enough on the nails and skin. finding a good lotion for normal undead dryness is already impossible)

- Lae'zel: in the modern world, if her life took her in a chef direction, she'd be in a Michelin star restaurant as the world's best and most terrifying sous chef. she absolutely would throw a knife at you for fucking up her plating (she'd intentionally miss. the first time). no nonsense is ever tolerated in her kitchen, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's got temper issues (her coldness and lack of tantrums is what makes her terrifying). she'd put Gordon Ramsay in his place for his rage theatrics and then make him weep with joy after serving him the most competent omelet he's ever had in his life. if she likes you, you may address her as "Yes, Chef!" outside of the kitchen.

- Karlach: uses 4 pots to make ramen. not because she's doing anything fancy or elaborate with it, the first pot was too small and started boiling over (whoops). the second one was, oh hold on, that's a cast iron pan, maybe you're not supposed to use that for boiling liquids, huh? wait shit, can't use this one either, i'm not supposed to use metal spoons on nonstick, don't want to scratch it. There we go! this one is the right size! and if i scratch this one, it's fine! wait, where the fuck did the flavor packet go (you should definitely be concerned about leaving her alone for the weekend)

- Wyll: very resourceful cook due to his Blade of the Frontier days. can improvise a meal out of damn near anything. can identify every edible plant and mushroom and tell you how to use it in a dish. would carry an herb garden in his adventure pack if he could. would absolutely thrive on the show Chopped (he's actually banned from auditioning again because it's not fair to the other competitors to have him on). he could make you a dessert featuring rattlesnake and fresh picked clover, and you don't know how or why, but you actually like it

- Gale: approaches the kitchen the same way he approaches most things in his life - academically. knows the proper safe temperature to cook meats/etc to, knows how to brown an onion, knows what seasonings are typically used together for certain flavor profiles and how to match seasonings to proteins. knife work sucks because he uses mage hand for mise en place and his mage hand has shitty DEX, but he's scared of his chef knife from the one time he sliced his thumb open (he was cutting an onion with improper hand placement and the knife slipped)

- Minsc: would exclusively eat by dumpster diving if it weren't for Boo's disapproval. eats like a human garbage disposal. he will eat a n y t h i n g that fits in his mouth, he is the least picky eater you will ever meet. does not understand how food challenges in the show Fear Factor are supposed to be challenges

- Halsin: world class forager. very competent hunter. prefers to eat everything as raw as possible. understands but doesn't believe in strict food safety because obviously stomach acid kills germs (and anyway, a little dirt here and there never killed anyone; exposure to germs is good for your immune system). open-mouthed kissing him is gambling with your health. makes the best vegetarian salads but do not trust any chicken he has "cooked". people with weak CON might want to consider avoiding his food

- Jaheira: uses Talk to Animals to Cinderella/Ratatouille rodents in the kitchen. she commands them like she's in perilous battle and the entire world is at stake (also rodents are worse to direct than cats, they do not know the difference between left and right. there's a lot of "No! Not that cupboard, the other one! NO, the OTHER other one! Flank him, he's off balance!"). making a cup of tea is a convoluted, stressful process that takes 10 times longer than just boiling the damn water yourself

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Absolute Edition

[cas-writes-stuff-ig]

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

f!/nb! reader x regina george

CONTENT:

Word Count: 3094

Reader is working on performing for the Winter Talent Show

singing for Regina

secret relationship

Jealous Regina

Jealous Reader

smut (shower sex) (drunk sex) (jealousy)

kinda will get angsty after this

(those band geeks/people who play music in the background in the new Mean Girls movie? yeah that's who the reader is friends with)

Part 1 of Cheering Her Up

Part 3 of Cheering Her Up

a/n:

this was supposed to be a one-shot but idk I had an idea because i get inspired by songs and then make up scenarios in my head. its gonna get a little sadder soon so sorry DW they'll end up together <3

Soona is a person who was apologized to, who plays music in the background for the songs (plays guitar and drums)

("Soona, I'm sorry I said you were dragging during 'Revenge Party' There was just like, so much pressure on us to move the story forward through the montage. Like you know how it is" (1:22:24 in the movie))

I made Soona date the girl in the beanie (plays bass and drums)

I heavily based this off the 2024 version, but I switched around some of the events back to 2004

(2004: October Party/Aaron and Regina get back together -> Talent Show -> Aaron and Regina break up -> "You can't sit with us" -> Burn Book scene)

(2024: October Party/Aaron and Regina get back together -> Aaron and Regina break up -> Talent Show -> "You can't sit with us" -> Burn Book scene)

Regina finished her brownie and you scarfed yours down unceremoniously. You covered your mouth and spoke while you chewed “Shit sorry, I’ve been smelling brownies for an hour and I was starving” she just rolled her eyes at you. “Want another?”

Regina paused a pained expression painted her face for a moment, then she put her wall back up “I’m fine thanks”

You decided to let it go and then the front door opened, “Regina?” her mom walked in “You having a party in here?” you grabbed your phone and turned down the music.

Regina's little sister Kylie ran inside after her mom and waved at you excitedly. Kylie liked it when you were around because you'd scold Regina if she was being mean to her. Kylie just ran up to her room to change.

“Hey mom” Regina greeted but she was dismissive as most kids are with their parents

“Hi Mrs. George,” her mom liked you, but she was naive to the true nature of your relationship with her daughter. You grinned “I made brownies, sorry it’s a mess. I’ll clean it up”

“Oh! That’s so nice of you. Thank you, hun, don’t worry about the dishes, darling” She put her bag down walked toward the sink, and started washing them. “I’ve got it, I know you guys have homework. Regina be nice yeah?”

Her mom said that every time you were over because the first time you were at her house, you worked with Regina at the kitchen table, and she heard her daughter call you “…a fucking nerd”

“Yeah, whatever Mom,” she stood up and started walking toward the stairs. You thanked her mom, rushed to take off the apron, hung it up, and dashed up the stairs. She walked into her room, and you soon followed inside and shut the door.

She just slipped back into her bed and went on her phone. You sat on the bed and kicked off your shoes, and were worried “Hey ‘Gina?”

“Mm?” She looked up at you briefly, and then back down at her phone.

You paused and didn’t say anything for a moment “…Gina, do you wanna talk about what happened earlier?” That same pained expression panned over her face. You just touched her knee and rubbed soothing circles into it. "It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it."

She sighed, "It's just me, don't worry about it, kay?" you gave her a look.

She then pulled you to lay next to her and lifted your arm to lay on your shoulder, head resting at the crook of your neck. "I won't push it" you added after she got comfortable.

She pulled out her phone and rested it on your stomach scrolling through her apps. You took your own phone out and checked your grades on there. Regina opened her camera roll, the most recent item was a short video of you, you immediately recognized your own voice and she had this shit-eating grin on her face.

It was you just fifteen minutes ago, you watched yourself wearing the rather girly apron, singing, and pulling brownies out of the oven. "Regina! Oh my God, delete that, please. That's actually so embarrassing" you face palmed.

She laughed and said "Absolutely not," and sat up "Don't worry, it's for my eyes only" She told the truth because she couldn't show the video to anyone else or else they'd ask what you're doing in her house baking brownies for.

"You're so mean to me," you said with no real bite in your voice. "Your mom said to be nice to me Regina" You didn't ask her again to delete it, because once she made a decision she usually stuck by it, she always got her way with you.

She scoffed and said "I am being nice" and leaned back toward you, kissing your collarbone. It made you stop breathing for a moment, your body got stiff as she kept kissing your neck.

"God Regina, I have homework" you mustered out, she left a dark red hickey that peaked out just a little bit from your shirt, then she licked your neck "Shit" she was getting you worked up.

"It's fucking Friday tomorrow loser, chill out, it can wait an hour" She whispered seductively in your ear. Regina was right though so you submitted to her whims

——————————————————————————————

"Duck, stay the night" She leaned against the bed sheets.

"Okay princess," you rolled your eyes "Anything for you," you said sarcastically, but you meant it. Regina pointed towards her closet and you found some of her more comfortable loose shirts to wear to bed. "Can I grab my guitar to practice for maybe thirty minutes though? Me and my group are practicing some songs for the Winter Talent show"

"Are you singing?" Regina asked smiling.

"If you make fun of me, I'll sleep in my fucking car, Regina" You made an empty threat. "I'm playing guitar, and doing background vocals. I'm the main singer for the last song only. I just wanna practice with the music in the back"

Your band for the Talent Show consisted of people from the Band Geeks (though you weren't part of the school band yourself). The four of you were versatile in your music skills, also being able to sing lead and backup interchangeably.

You only practiced one of your songs and opted to play ones you knew well for Regina. "I thought it was only one song?" Regina asked you.

"Thought I'd show off a little bit" you looked down at the fret board, she watched your fingers move.

"You serenading me Duck?"

——————————————————————————————

You cozied into her arms too easily, over the summer, spending nights with her had conditioned you to never get up before 10AM. So you couldn't rely on your body clock to wake you up.

You set an alarm for 7AM so she could do her makeup and choose an outfit. You had left a small amount of clothes in her wardrobe that was neatly hidden away, for the nights you slept over.

In the morning you brushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her forehead "Gina babe, you gotta get up" I brought you the brownies I made.

She sat up and smiled at you "Thanks Ducky" Shit, that smile could send you to the stars.

"Of course Gina"

——————————————————————————————

That day, at the cafeteria. You slipped off your backpack and sat down across the table from Janis, and Damian. It was the third week of your Junior year.

You never stayed for the entire duration of lunch, just to eat and run to a study room where you could get some actual silence or hang out with the Soona and band you were friends with. And you never knew that Janis and Damian were using Cady to take Regina down.

Damian gasped dramatically, it surprised you. "What's that on your neck!?" Shit, your backpack moved your shirt down revealing part of the hickey Regina gave you. Some heads turned toward your table.

Janis looked "Who you hook up with?" They both leaned in.

You were bright red "No one" You and Regina actually hid your secret pretty well, which you both greatly appreciated. But you hung out with a few people, which is why they pushed harder for an answer.

Damian leaned forward "Who?"

"No one, leave it," You said, it came out a little mean since you were stressed. "Sorry" you decided to tell part of the truth and you softened up "They're not out yet, I can't say" they yielded and switched gears.

"Is that why you've been all glow-y this semester? Your face has gay painted all fucking over it." Damian gestured with his hands pointing at you.

"Please stop talking" You pressed your temples

"Fine" They changed the topic.

"Oh Cady told us of a party happening tonight," Janis said, but you didn't really pay attention

You said "Okay" and then just looked down at your phone and texted Regina. Her contact on your phone was discreet enough, it was just her initials backward. The only thing that hinted that it could be Regina was the picture of a Jeep from the internet.

You knew your contact name, but of course, you had a rubber ducky as a profile picture on her phone.

Duck: "G, they saw the mark you left yesterday"

GR: "so what? you didn't say anything right?"

Duck: "no of course not"

GR: "then we're fine"

You could see Regina looking down at her phone too where she sat with the Plastics and Cady.

You kept observing Regina, Gretchen was next to her and leaned over. "Who's 'Duck'? New guy?"

"Jesus Gretchen, haven't you heard of privacy?" Regina scolded her.

——————————————————————————————

After school, you drove home and Facetimed Regina "Party tonight right?" you asked.

"Mmhm, you gonna go?" Regina was also rummaging through her clothes

"Yeah," you said and put on just a black T-shirt, jeans, and a brown jacket. "How do I look?" You propped your phone up to show her.

"Lame, but fine" Regina responded

"That was mean Gina" It stung a little but you were fine. "Oh remind me to send you the set list we're practicing," You asked her.

"Shit, gotta go Duck. Karen, Gretchen, and Cady are coming to my house to get ready" She looked at the messages on her phone "I'll see you later" she quickly hung up. You changed your shirt to a loose tank top, which revealed your toned arms and the hickey, you wanted to exact a little revenge on Regina and make her a little jealous.

——————————————————————————————

Soona and the gang brought you to the party. You've been at this guy's house party three times over the summer. You grabbed a red solo cup and took it to the dance floor, and your friends joined you.

You normally didn't get this drunk unless you were with only a few people, because you lost your inhibitions a little too much. The only thing on your mind was Regina. Regina. Regina. Regina.

Your head buzzed and you looked for the familiar blonde, she was in the middle of the dance floor grinding up against some jock, which happened to be Shane Oman.

You got jealous, and when you were drunk you didn't think thoroughly. Regina didn't fuck anyone else besides you for a while, you understood 'friends with benefits' implied you were not obligated to monogamy.

You had decided to mess with Regina a little more, you joined a girl who was known for queer baiting, you didn't kiss her, but you definitely got touchy, she was lifting your shirt a little. You felt Regina staring daggers at you.

After a while, you excused yourself to the upstairs bathroom where there were far fewer people here. You wondered if that was enough to get a rise out of Regina. Then a knock at the door. "Occupied" you yelled out.

"Let me in, bitch" It was Regina's voice.

'Oh shit' You thought. You wanted to anger her enough that she texted you to come over to her house, but she broke your unspoken rule to not approach each other at parties or school. You opened the door "Shit Regina. No one saw you come in here ri-"

She slammed the door shut and shoved you against the wall, her left hand snaked around your neck, not enough to restrict air, but enough to show you how mad she was. "You're stupid," she said angrily. You looked up at her, your head still buzzed.

"Gina I-" You tried speak, but her hand squeezed a little tighter for a moment, before loosening her grip to grab your jaw.

"I'm gonna leave this party, and you're gonna meet me down this fucking block. We're going home" Regina's voice was full of venom. "Do you understand?" you could smell the alcohol on her breath, and the smell of her perfume.

You let out a faint "Yes"

——————————————————————————————

She called an Uber and you stood behind her like a kicked puppy. You were in deep shit. It was already 2AM when you left the party so everyone in Regina's house was asleep.

When you got to her house she practically dragged you up the stairs and pushed you onto the bed roughly "The fuck you think you were doing at that party?" She's never been so angry at you before.

"Regina, I'm sorry I-" you stuttered, she was mad at you and it scared you. But the alcohol in your blood and the way she towered over you, making you feel helpless, made your core ache with need.

She stripped off her shirt and straddled your hips, Regina took your arms and held them above your head. "You're a fucking tease" You were both still incredibly drunk.

"Regina, I'm sorry let me make it up to you" You pleaded with her.

She wore a mean smile "And how do you plan on doing that baby" You tried to wriggle yourself out of her grip, but she used her entire body to keep you down.

The more you tried to escape, the more pathetic you looked. Face flushed, pinned under the prettiest girl you've ever seen. "Shit, I'll do whatever you ask Gina, just say the word"

"Yeah baby?" she smiled "Whatever I ask?"

"Yes," you said breathily, though it was hot, you were scared of losing her favor. You wanted to be in her life as much as possible, you were obsessed. Anything to please her.

"Strip, get in the shower" She let go of your arms, climbed off you, and rid herself of the rest of her clothes. She turned her back towards you and walked toward the bathroom, then without turning, she crooked her finger, telling you to come follow her.

She didn't need to turn around to know you were watching her every movement. She turned the shower on and walked inside "Kneel" You did, she looked at your mouth and then down between her legs. Water beat down your back. "You know what to do baby" You nodded and started to gently kiss her clit, "Don't tease, just get on with it" Your slow kisses to her pussy turned into you sucking on it hard.

You looked up at her, and you made eye contact. She moaned then said "Keep that up baby, and I might forgive you" she gripped the back of your hair and it made you whine into her pussy. "Fuck- use your fingers too babe" Coating your fingers in her slick before slipping two fingers inside of her.

"God you feel so good," she said as you started rhythmically curling your fingers inside her cunt, you took your free hand and held her up. "Oh fuck" she arched her back and pushed her hips hard into your face. You kept your pace while she rode out her orgasm. She pulled your head away, and when she let go you just kissed her thighs.

"You satisfied, Gina?" you still were on your knees she brought you up and kissed you

"No, nerd. I wanna break you" Regina knelt now and saw her there you ached for her to just get on with it. Eating her out pulled obscene sounds out of her and made you wet, and she swiped a finger through your slit. "You're so wet," Then she slid two fingers inside. "If I let you finish, you gonna promise to be good for me, baby?"

Her thumb started to circle your clit "Sh-shit, yes Gina"

"Look at me" you looked down and she pressed your clit hard.

"Fuck Regina, I'll be good" you swore.

"Promise me?"

"Promise" You gasped out as she increased her pace.

Heat gathered in your stomach and your skin felt hot. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, moaning Regina's name like a prayer. "Gina- fuck, I-"

"Words baby" Regina cooed.

You panted trying to speak, you finally gasped out "Gina, can I finish, please? please?"

She smirked "Only because you're so cute when you beg" She sped up "Come for me, come for your owner baby"

You covered your mouth in fear of waking up everyone in the house. Your body felt like a firework, and Regina knew how to play you like a violin.

She stood and kissed you, and her anger had dissolved. Just as you regained your breath, there she was to steal it away from you again.

You knew Regina was a bitch, but you couldn't help but melt into her touch when she washed your hair or kissed your shoulder. Her attention was intoxicating.

——————————————————————————————

You lay in bed with Regina and brushed her hair behind her ear. "Gina, about you kissing Shane tonight." you paused to really think about your words. "I know we aren't together like that, but you know me, if you start dating someone else, whatever we have has to stop"

She hesitated for a second "Of course Duck" she paused again "I only did it to keep up my reputation" Regina said. It was partially true if you wanted to keep up the secret. Regina had to play her part, she had to conform, it was comphet but you didn't bring up your thoughts to her.

"Gina, I'm sorry I was acting like that at the party" You apologized for making her jealous. You knew why you were jealous, but not why she was. Did she like you? Did she just want to fuck you? You never would expect anything beyond sex and friendship from her even if it broke you inside.

But she read you easily "Hey babe, did you get jealous?" she was smug about it, and you crossed your arms. "You did huh?" She provoked you but she held your face so gently and rubbed your cheek with her thumb, that you felt your attraction to her fall far deeper than you could control.

She gave you butterflies whenever she was around. You just responded with "I'm sorry"

"It's cute, Duck, you're fine. But don't do that again yeah?" She kept holding your face "At least not with that bitch you were dancing with, she’s such a loser babe"

"Yeah, fine fine. But anyone who isn’t you or your gang is a loser to you” you teased.

"Whatever. Now come here and hold me, baby" She had you wrapped around her little finger, more so than anyone else. You felt your feelings for Regina grow, but you didn't dare to confess. You didn't want to lose what you had.

You lay on your back and Regina laid her head on your chest, then you were stroking her back and held her close to you. You kissed her forehead sweetly and lovingly, earning an adorable 'Mm', and you were getting slowly coaxed into sleep by her gentle steady breathing.

Part 3 of Cheering Her Up

[koinotame]

your (househusband) roommate, ajax

word count: 1.5K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, childe gets called your house husband but you’re not actually married, generally gross stuff (he sniffs your used shirt), it's implied of childe scares away someone else

a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! i lost the original post w/ the basic idea but essentially this is a side au of sagau/self aware genshin where the characters (in this case childe) find their way into your world, but in the process you lose all memories about genshin. i'll be reposting all of the series, but it's also on ao3! part two is here!

when you first learned who your roommate would be, you were exasperated. you’d heard about him before, and you were well aware that he's amassed a reputation of being a trouble maker. you had no interest in getting into trouble, especially not during your first year.

...so you were pretty pleasantly surprised when he turned out to be a total sweetheart.

you’re reminded of that when you enter the kitchen, rubbing at your eyes and yawning. the smell of pancakes wafts through the air, and you can’t even get out a small 'good morning' before ajax is grinning at you and sliding you some pancakes. "don’t wait for me and eat up, okay? I put plenty of love into them, so they should taste great."

you ignore his banter (insisting on waiting for him is a lost battle, you’ve learned) and take a bite. you don’t finish chewing before you sleepily nod.

he laughs good-naturedly. "I’m glad, I’m glad. do you want more?" another drowsy nod has him piling most of the remaining pancakes onto your plate.

he continues chatting with you while you eat and he finishes the batch, though he does most of the talking. as usual, he doesn’t seem to mind your silence too much. once he’s done, he turns the fire off and props his elbow on the counter to stare at you. you don't pay him any mind.

he slides the platter to you the second you peek at it. after having eaten well over two servings you’re not really interested in more though, so you shake your head. "I'm full. aren’t you going to eat any?"

he beams. "aww, were you thinking about me? don’t worry, I already ate." you’re almost certain he didn’t. avoiding the judgemental look that crosses your eyes at his response, he laughs in a way that’d be awkward if it was anyone else. "I’ll put the rest in a tupper then, okay? have them whenever."

he’s taking your plate and putting it in the sink before you can even stand to move it to the dishwasher. you sigh and stick out your tongue at him when he turns to you. "you know you really don’t have to go out of your way do all of this."

he smiles at you. "why not? I enjoy cooking, and you can be my taste-tester." the amounts he feeds you go well beyond that, and he's avoiding the rest of your question, but okay. you should've gotten the message—that it's futile to ask him this kind of question—by now.

while you you face plant into the couch to avoid thinking about anything else, ajax stays in the kitchen, cleaning up and humming some lullaby as he washes the pan and plates. it’s too early to think on this saturday morning. the cushion feels nice and soft against your cheek and you can’t help but burrow yourself further into the pillows.

wait.

you lift your head up, peeking your head out behind the back of the couch.

"the apron is cute."

he nearly drops the pan.

it’s not often that you bring over friends, so ajax insists on cleaning beforehand and serving your group snacks much like a mother hen would throughout their stay.

their two, maybe three if you're pushing it, hour stay. all you’re going to is chat, it’s not like they’re going to be staying overnight or anything.

you sigh but let him do what he wants.

some cookies are laid out by the time they arrive, and he’s hovering around pretty much indefinitely to serve tea or juice.

it’s cute, in a way, but your friends’ teasing is not.

"you know, he’s kind of like your house husband, isn’t he?" your friend comments, leaning over and biting into a powdery cookie.

you try to ignore the way ajax beams. you try to ignore the way he cheers to himself even harder.

"not really..." your weak attempts at rebutting their words make your friends laugh.

the rest of the session goes by normally; you talk about the kinds of things you’d regularly talk about with friends. someone in your group recently received a promotion, and somebody else got fired. somebody gained a boyfriend, another realised she didn’t have the time or energy for relationships not too long ago.

the longer the conversation goes on, the more the chatter becomes background noise as the you retreat to your own world. the drink in your hands gets lukewarm long before you finish it despite your frequent sipping.

when they finally leave, you feel more relieved than you should.

you see them off with a smile, but your head is pounding by the time you sit back down and your ears can finally rest. now that you’re (mostly, ajax is always just kind of there) alone, you can finally have some peace and quiet and relax.

or that’s what you think until ajax leans over the couch, head hovering above yours. "now that they’re gone… would you prefer dinner, a bath, or me?"

you stare at him. he doesn’t move, clearly eager for your answer. eventually, you sigh and gently push his face away. "dinner would be nice."

he laughs, something warm and domestic dancing in his cold eyes. "of course! it’ll be ready soon."

he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving.

you whine, but the space he touched feels tingly even against your own hand.

"ajax."

he drops your wallet, not even attempting to take back the couple hundred bills peeking out. his response is nonchalant, even at his supposed surprise at having been caught by you. "ahh, I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon. look at what I found!"

you stare. at him. at what he’s holding. at your wallet on the floor.

you’re certain you did not have that many hundred bills. you’re going to cry if you find him trying to stuff his money into your wallet again.

"you mentioned liking this, right? I was out earlier and I thought I could get it for you. you know, as a sign of goodwill and all, for being such a great roommate."

a couple months ago, you would have been perplexed. he insists on doing all of the chores and most of the cooking, and he pays most of the bills. is the 'great roommate' status because you’re quiet and don’t host loud parties, or…? you don’t question it anymore at this point.

"ajax."

a couple months ago, he might’ve gotten unnerved by your silence. instead, he pushes it into your hands, a wide grin on face, ruffles your hair and saunters out.

you have yet to find his wallet. despite that, all the cash (and then some) that you’d left on his bedside table or bed has always managed to find a way back to your wallet, so there would probably be little point anyway.

"ah, that reminds me!" he peeks back into your room a couple minutes later. "what would you like for dinner?" the nerve of him to ask this right after he calls you a great roommate…

"maybe some soup?" you say instead.

he smiles, bows, and takes his leave. the apron you called cute a few weeks ago is already fixed onto him.

you sigh, sliding the bills in properly.

wait a second. is that a credit card…?

you were expecting many things when you finally caught him, but him sniffing only your shirt—out of all your available laundry—wasn’t one of them.

"…what are you doing?"

you have never seen him jerk his head as quickly, nor have you ever seen him so red. or speechless.

you both stand there in silence for a few seconds before he blinks rapidly and his breathing becomes ragged. "it’s not—I—it’s not what you think, I swear—"

"okay, whatever." you wave him off. somehow, this doesn’t alarm you as much as it should. "I don’t care what you were doing, don’t do it again."

he nods quickly, considerably less composed than he usually is, and shoves your shirt back into the basket briskly. "also… can you stop leaving your stuff in my wardrobe. I know you know the difference."

"ah, that was…" he’s clearly at a loss for words, not sure how to justify himself after having been caught committing not only one transgression, but two.

you set the clothes of his you were bringing to him down, tempted to just throw them at him.

you swallow your nerves, almost nervously meeting his eyes. "look, I don’t really care, but can you at least leave me stuff like your jacket or sweater? your shirts aren’t really my style."

his breathing hitches again but he gives no response otherwise, so you shake your head and turn to leave. the laundromat room is thankfully empty save for the two of you, something you’re glad for.

as you pass through the door, it occurs to you that the guy who’d been smoking in here hasn’t shown up in a while. now that you think about it, that was the reason ajax had offered to take over laundry duty too...

oh well, it’s of no concern to you, you think to yourself as you make the journey back to your room.