#the rest all go in the freezer
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biwachan · 1 year ago
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2024.02.24
no I did not wake up early on Saturday morning to make taiyaki for breakfast..
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naomiknight-17 · 4 months ago
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I told the doctor about some negative Ozempic side effects I've been experiencing and she recommended an OTC medication to help, and also said I needed to drink more water
I drink SO much water
I don't know how to tell you how much water I drink
I go through at LEAST 10 cups of water a day, not counting my daily coffee or ginger ale, not counting milk or the occasional Premium Special Treat Beverage™
I drink so so so much water
If I drink more water I will die of desalination. Please stop telling me to drink more water
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athenasdragon · 1 year ago
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The strange feeling of togetherness among a group of people all in their separate homes waiting for news
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robinsnest2111 · 7 months ago
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laundry, magnesium supplements, then off to bed and then another day of work
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chilope · 8 months ago
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Ask meme for people in their 30s
What was the first piece of furniture you bought?
What proportion of your meals do you cook?
Foaming hand soap or normal hand soap?
Favorite chore?
Least favorite chore?
Most precious thing one of your pets has destroyed?
Any groceries you've been getting into lately?
What cleaning product do you swear by?
What's your emotional support craft?
Youtube, cable TV, or streaming?
What's something you saved up for and then regretted buying?
How many cups can you see from where you're sitting?
Which filter are you most likely to go "eh, it's probably fine" when you find out you need to change it?
How often do you take baths?
Do you go down each aisle when you grocery shop, or only the ones you know you need stuff from?
Where do you go when you need to get out of the house but it's raining?
What's a movie you saw recently that you liked?
Pro or anti tchotchkes?
What's your go-to tape?
What's in your freezer right now?
Last concert you attended?
Favorite grocery store?
Paper bags, plastic bags, or reusable bags?
Do you get your government mandated 8 hours every night?
Favorite old person activity?
Would you rather sit on the porch drinking sweet tea or sit by the lake drinking beers?
Do you prefer Boardgame Night, Build-Your-Own-Pizza Night, or Movie Night with your friends?
Be honest, do you like all of the pictures of their babies that your friends send you?
Go-to holiday card format?
How many pairs of scissors do you own?
Do you still own your first car?
How do you take your morning coffee/tea?
What's something you collect?
What's your commute like?
Aisle at the grocery store you never bother walking down?
Do you keep a daily journal or agenda?
Do you still listen to the same music you listened to in high school?
What's the last filter you changed?
What little treat do you always get when you run errands?
Grocery list or no grocery list?
What's the oldest thing you own?
What's an unjustifiably expensive appliance that you really want?
Favorite book you've read recently?
Honest feelings on Settlers of Catan?
What's something you wish you had more time for?
What kind of stuff do you keep on the door of your refrigerator?
Lamps or overhead lighting?
If you could build your home from scratch, what outrageous feature would you want to build into it?
Do you bring a bag with you everywhere you go?
Pro or anti throw pillows?
How many blankets do you keep in your living room?
Did your relationship with your parents get better when you stopped living with them?
What's worse, the DMV or the Social Security Office?
Do you decorate your house for holidays? Which ones?
Favorite high-effort meal that you make?
Favorite low-effort meal that you make?
Do you tend to bring an appetizer, entree, dessert, or drinks to a potluck?
What kind of bag do you use for your bag full of bags?
If you died and your ghost was stuck in the outfit you're wearing right now for the rest of time, would you be happy with it?
Do you have an opinion on your local weather reporter?
Do you have a favorite brunch spot?
Where are you on the minimalism-maximalism kinsey scale?
Opinion on Bath and Body Works?
Last time you visited a farmer's market?
Anything you're procrastinating on right now?
Do you get your taxes in as soon as possible, at the last minute, or late?
Do you keep any stuffed animals on your bed?
Are your garbage bags scented or unscented?
What are you looking forward to next week?
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em-ontv · 2 months ago
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Need some space — d.w.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader
Summary: Dean could never keep his hands off of you, latching onto you whenever he could
Content: fluff, established relationship, clingy/touch-starved Dean, not proofread, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!
Word count: 912
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Dean was a lot of things—sharp-tongued, reckless at times, stupidly brave—but you hadn't expected "clingy boyfriend" to be added to the list.
Yet somehow, here you were, flipping through dusty books with his head in your lap, eyes half-closed like an oversized housecat. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch, clearly uninterested in the research you were trying to get through.
"Dean," you sighed, nudging the book away from where it almost brushed against his face. "How am I supposed to read with your giant head in the way?"
"Don't mind me, sweetheart." he mumbled, eyes closing and voice bordering a purr. "You're doing great. Keep it up."
You gave his forehead a flick, earning a dramatic groan. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand but refused to move an inch. Instead, he stretched his legs out further, making himself even more comfortable.
"Seriously? You're not even gonna pretend to help?" you glared at him. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you started flipping through some books too."
"Helping," he said lazily, cracking one eye open and giving you a smirk. "Emotional support."
Without waiting any further, he reached up, took your hand, and pressed it to his head. Your fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, and he melted under your touch like butter on a hot pan.
When you stopped and started to pull your hand back so you could flip a page of the book, he let out a pathetic whine, pushing your hand back against his head, like he’d die before letting you go.
"You're such a baby. I have to get this done before Sam comes back." you muttered, squishing his face between your fingers, making him pout.
"Cut it out," he grumbled, frowning up at you, though the way his frown dissolved when you laughed said otherwise.
"If you're not gonna help, you're not gonna complain either." you said, and he retaliated by kissing your wrist, peppering soft, warm kisses all the way up your arm.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. Dean's touchy-feely tendencies had only escalated since you started dating. Take the case last week, for example.
You'd been interviewing a witness at a diner, trying to keep your questions subtle and professional. Dean, however, had other ideas.
"So, you're saying the lights flickered just before you heard the noise?" you asked the frazzled waitress.
"Uh-huh," she nodded, glancing nervously between you and Dean.
Before you could respond, his hand found its way to the small of your back. Not a casual graze either—nope—it was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers curling just enough to make his presence known. You froze, shooting him a warning glance, trying to shrug him off, but he was already leaning in closer, the picture of shamelessness.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "You're doing amazing. Keep it up."
"Dean," you hissed through a forced smile. "Go sit down."
"What? I'm just keeping an eye on you," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The poor waitress looked like she wanted to crawl into the freezer.
And then there was that time in the library when you'd been deep into research, scanning page after page. Dean had sauntered in, plopped down next to you, and proceeded to rest his chin on your shoulder while humming AC/DC under his breath.
"Keep reading, sweetheart. I’m comfy." he murmured when you tried to shoo him off, knowing he'd just distract you. His arm snaked around your waist, and before you could protest, he was already pressing slow, feather-light kisses along your jaw.
Or the night you snuck into the kitchen for some quiet time with a PB&J. Five minutes later, Dean appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked half-asleep, his brows pinched in sleepy frustration.
"What are you doing?" you asked, mid-bite of a PB&J.
"Couldn't sleep," he said, padding over to you with a frown. "Why'd you leave?"
"Dean, I was gone for five minutes."
He made a noise of dissatisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling lazily into the crook of your neck. "Come back to bed with me." he muttered, his voice soft and heavy with sleep.
It was ridiculous. The same tough-as-nails hunter who'd taken on demons, monsters, and literal death couldn't go five minutes without missing you. But as much as you teased him for it, it brought a certain warmth to your heart.
Because for all his bravado, Dean was just a guy who'd spent most of his life terrified of losing the people he cared about, loved. His over-the-top clinginess? It was his way of making up for lost time.
"Alright, fine," you said, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich and dusting your hands off.
He grinned—smug at first, but it quickly melted into something far softer. He let out a content hum, nuzzling closer.
"Right now, please." he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.
"Alright, just don't fall asleep on me in the middle of the kitchen." you said, rubbing his arm, leading him back to the comfort of your shared bed.
Under the covers, Dean curled up against you, his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried in your neck. His breath was gentle and even, warm against your skin. Just before sleep took him, he murmured faintly, "Love you, sweetheart."
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phlyaros · 2 years ago
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Okay, but raw chicken is so absolutely disgusting. I have this irrational fear that I will get salmonella from it and even just looking at it makes me gag. I have to wash everything that touches raw chicken and then wash my hands like five times. I didn't know that anyone else had this specific problem...
the point of the poll was just that my roommate said that most people probably don't care about touching raw chicken and I wanted to know how right he was so going to the autism website to ask was probably a bad idea but I didn't want to go to reddit. anyway no seems like a fairly common issue!
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yikesmary · 3 months ago
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options — choi seungcheol x reader
summary: where cheol tries his best to make sure your pregnancy cravings are satisfied—by buying what seems to be the whole convenience store
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notes: this can be seen as a pt. 2 to this one shot I wrote back in June of last year (I did not know it's been that long since that has been posted wtf), but it can also be seen as a standalone. I got a burst of inspiration suddenly, so enjoy the one shot! <3
disclaimer: I am not pregnant, so whatever I write about pregnancy is through pure guessing, and also, if I decide to google it! so yeah :)
masterlist
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"Did you leave any food for the other customers who might want to eat tonight?" you asked in amusement, watching Seungcheol put what seemed like the fifth plastic bag filled with food from the convenience store onto the table.
"Well, you kept on texting me things the baby might want, so I decided to get everything you've been craving and maybe some things that might work," Seungcheol explained, a bit out of breath from how many times he had to go back and forth.
"Baby, don't you think this is a bit too much? I don't even think baby girl will want a fourth of these," you said, rubbing your pregnant belly.
Ever since you and Seungcheol found out you were pregnant, he had become an even more attentive husband, if possible. He had insisted that you were not allowed to lift a single finger throughout your pregnancy, saying that you shouldn't get tired.
You had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? He would wake up the second you called his name, helping you from the bed and waiting outside the bathroom to make sure you didn't fall in or something (it had happened once, and Seungcheol was both worried and amused at the time). You were hungry? Seungcheol was already ordering something from a food delivery app or cooking one of the doctor-approved dishes that he taught himself to make.
He also made sure all of your pregnancy cravings were satisfied, which was why you've found yourself with what must've been the entire convenience store stock in your home. "So where do we start?" you asked, watching as he brought out a ton of different food out of the bags—chips, samgak (and regular) kimbap, ramen packs, and even ice cream from the bags.
"We should probably see if baby wants the already made food, and the ice cream can be a dessert?" He suggested, but you were already eyeing up your favorite ice cream from even before you got pregnant.
Seungcheol saw that you were looking at the ice cream and without fail, gave it to you before going to the freezer in order to put the rest in so they don't melt. "Thank you," you grinned, a mouthful of ice cream, which made him shake his head in endearment.
"Here, smell this," he said, giving you an open bag of chips.
You looked at him weirdly, yet smelled it. "It smells... like chips?" you said and smelt it one more time just to be sure.
"Does the baby want this?" He asked.
"Oh, not really," you shook your head, and he closed up the chip bag and proceeded to grab another bag, presumably to do the same.
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"This one?" Seungcheol asked, giving you what looked like the last item, which was a cup tteokbokki.
"Oh, yeah!" You excitedly said.
"Really?!"
"No, I just wanted to make you happy, but the baby's really not liking it," you sighed.
Seungcheol sighed, which made you feel guiltier, as he had bought all of this food, and it was nothing you were currently craving. "I'm so sorry, Cheol. Maybe I can eat something—" you were saying as you were picking up a package of sweet bread, but quickly dropped it once the smell hit your nose.
"No, you shouldn't have to force yourself to eat if you don't like it. It's not your fault our daughter might just be the pickiest eater ever. I'll just bring all of this to practice tomorrow and the guys can eat all of it," Seunghceol shrugged.
You still felt guilty, which he must've seen by the look on your face, which prompted him to grab you gently so he could give you a hug. "Maybe there's something in the fridge?" He suggested, holding your hand and using his thumb to caress the back of your hand.
You thought about it for a moment before releasing Seungcheol's hand, to which he pouted when you did and walked towards the refrigerator. You looked through the fridge, but nothing caught your eye.
Until a bright orange Tupperware lid caught your attention and you grabbed it. Once you opened it, you looked at Seungcheol sheepishly. "I found something to eat.." you said.
Seungcheol stood up walked over to you and looked at the Tupperware. "Isn't this the japchae Mingyu and Jun made?" he asked, and you nodded.
"I guess I'm gonna have to ask them to make you japchae every time you crave it. Or learn it myself,"
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taglist: taglist: @belladaises @winterpaos @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @withloveyjh @lockburn-castle @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @violetvoo @maevadobreva @soonyoungblr @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @dunixxd @minhwa @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @icyminghao @cookiehaos @duskunt1ldawn
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steddieprompts · 6 days ago
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part 2 of this thing
The rest of the night the two sat on the couch, ate icecream and watched shitty comedy movies. Steve finally got Eddie to watch Major League and Eddie had to admit it was his favorite sports movie so far.
Eddie fell asleep on the couch as usual and Steve covered him with a blanket before heading to his room for the night.
They didn't talk about the situation with Tommy after that night. In all honestly Steve was happy to see the back of it as well as Tommy himself. Seeing him again was such a violent flashback to the person he was before... he didn't like thinking about it. He hoped Tommy loved New York so much he never stepped foot in Indiana again.
Of course Steve could never be that lucky.
It was a Monday night and the apartment was sweltering.
"I thought Daryl said he fixed the AC?" Steve said, fiddling with the knobs on the unit.
"Daryl says alot of things" Eddie's voice echoed from where his head was stuck in the freezer.
"Let's just go to the movies. At least their AC works," Steve grumbled.
Eddie pulled his head out of the freezer. "I'm in." He agreed and grabbed his wallet off the counter as he followed Steve out of the apartment... before shoving the handful of icecubes he snuck out of the freezer down the back or Steve's tucked in polo. His screech was so loud old lady Laski stuck her head out of her apartment to yell at them.
"Sorry, Muriel!" Eddie said through his cackling before they shoved their way out of the building.
Inside the theater the air was crisp and cool.
"Genius, Stevie," Eddie said, flipping his hair over the back of the seat and sliding down until his ass was almost off the seat. "I gotta pee," he announced and immediately stood back up. Jesus Christ he heard Steve mutter. "You want popcorn?"
"Nah. I'm good." Steve hummed as he closed his eyes.
After the bathroom, Eddie went to the concession stand and got himself a popcorn (large, because he knew Steve would steal some) and Steve a Sprite with extra ice.
When he turned away from the counter he nearly dropped it though. Across the room, just coming in the door, was Hagan.
Why was he still here? Shouldn't he be back in New York by now?
Eddie decided to ignore him... and the other guy he was with, some jock type Eddie faintly recognized from high school. He headed back towards the theater doors, but he wasn't as inconspicuous as he hoped.
Before he could get into the theater, Tommy sidled in front of the door.
"Well look who it is," Tommy smirked at him. "Out without your little body guard?"
"Body guard? Who, Steve?"
"I know he was lying to protect you. I can't figure out why." Tommy said, taking a threatening step toward Eddie.
He had about enough of this.
Eddie mirrored Tommy, taking a step forward and getting obnoxiously close to his face.
"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," Eddie said his name like he felt so so bad for him, "Steve, the love of my life, is right in there." He tilted his head towards the door, "And believe me, he wasn't protecting me the other night, he was protecting you."
Eddie stared him down for a second before suddenly sticking out his tongue and making a guttural hiss. Tommy startled and jerked back into his jock friend. "Enjoy your film... and try not to think about what's in the dark." Eddie said sweetly before slipping into the theater, but not without hearing Tommy mutter "Freak" as the door closed.
Eddie hustled back to their seats, nearly spilling half the popcorn on the way.
"Steve!" He whisper yelled as he came down the row. He didn't really need to whisper, though, as the only other people in the theater were a couple teenagers in the back. "Steve!" He said again as he plopped down in his seat.
"What? Is that for me?"
"Yeah, yeah, I got you a Sprite, Tommy is here." Eddie said all in one breath. Steve nearly choked on the sip he took. "And I might have talked to him."
"Eddie..."
"And I might have lead him to believe that I cursed him or something. Hissed in his face."
"Wha... why?"
"He called you my body guard. Oh, and you're the love of my life now."
"Body gu... wait. awww you love me??" Steve said, sickly sweet and batting his eyelashes.
"Madly, darling," Eddie replied in his worst trans-atlantic accent. Steve chuckled.
"He seriously said I was your body guard?"
"Yeah he thinks we're pretending."
"Well fuck him."
"That's what I say," Eddie grumbled. He didn't like being called a liar even when he was one.
At the back of the theater the door opened and Steve peaked behind him through the seats and low and behold... Tommy Hagan.
"It's him," Steve grumbled.
"Huh?" Eddie asked, distracted by the movie previews.
"Tommy." He turned to Eddie. "You haven't suddenly developed boundaries in the last five minutes have you?"
"No, why?"
Steve surged forward, pressing his lips to Eddie's and cupping his jaw. Eddie made a surprised noise before pressing back, his hand finding Steve's waist, fisting his shirt.
After a few seconds Steve pulled back, meaning to look over at Tommy to cement the deal, but he got... distracted, watching Eddie's eyes flutter open, seeing how they danced over Steve's face as he processed.
"I see what the big deal is now," He finally said. Steve let out a soft chuckle, still enraptured by Eddie... and wasn't that a thought.
Eddie looked over Steve's shoulder, picking Tommy out in the dark, the light of the screen highlighting him. Slowly Eddie wiggled his fingers at him in a little wave.
Steve finally looked back at him, just in time for Tommy to storm out of the theater, his new cronie following behind.
"Wow," Eddie mused, "That worked surprisingly well." Eddie looked back at Steve, "You think he's jealous?"
"Dude!" Steve whined before sliding down in his seat.
"Think Tommy wants a little King action?"
"If you don't stop, I'm leaving you here and you can walk home."
Eddie cackled, settling down as the movie started.
But Steve couldn't concentrate. Kissing Eddie was... nice. To be fair, Steve hadn't been with anyone in a while but... that wasn't entirely the reason. He felt something he hadn't felt in a while. As cliche as it sounded... he felt a spark.
Maybe Eddie had felt it too.
The movie went by too fast but when they stepped back outside the sun had set and the heat had dissipated. Tommy was no where to be found.
As they drove home, Eddie was strangely reserved. They talked about the movie, about going to work in the morning, but the conversation didn't take any wild turns like they usually did. Steve didn't even have to scold Eddie for sitting sideways in the seat.
When they got back into the apartment Eddie didn't flop down on the couch or root around in the fridge, just said he was gonna head to bed before going into his room. Steve looked at the clock. It was only 8:30.
He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. He brushed his teeth, changed his clothes, sat down and turned on the TV, but he couldn't ignore how strange it was. And it wasn't hard to guess why.
He shook out his shoulders before he knocked on Eddie's door.
"Yeah?" Eddie called from inside, Steve could here him quietly picking at his guitar.
"Can we talk? Please?"
The guitar stopped and Eddie opened the door, already in the ratty black Sabath shirt he usually slept in.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry... but I'm not."
"About what?"
"Kissing you like that. I should have... given you more warning."
"It's alright, Steve, I'm not mad."
"Maybe not, but something is wrong."
"It's fine, Steve, don't worry about it."
"No," Steve's hand shot out as Eddie tried to close his door. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I just... Please just talk to me, okay?" His hand dropped from the door, but caught Eddie's fingers on the way. He tangled them together before asking softly, "please?"
Eddie looked at their hands before saying "What is this?" He looked up at Steve taking a steadying breath, but it barely got rid of the tightness, the wobble. "What...?"
"Eddie, I know how this started but I can help but feel maybe... I dont know. I think there's something. Maybe we've been ignoring it."
"Are you fucking with me, Steve? Because I can't..." Eddie hated how his throat was closing up with fear, with hope.
"I'm not, I promise you," Steve stepped forward, tightening his grip on Eddie's hand, "I've never felt so at home with someone, so happy, and kissing you... Eddie. I can't let this go unless you tell me to."
Eddie swallowed, swallowed again, until he got enough courage to lean forward, softly, gently, and pressed his lips to Steve's for the second time that night.
The kiss was soft and gentle until he felt Steve smile against his lips and he couldn't hold back. He felt himself laugh as he pressed forward, Steve pulling him back until they hit the wall across the hall, laughing when it took Steve by surprise. They broke apart, Steve peppering kisses up Eddie's cheek to his temple.
"You uh," Steve said through a smile, "You want to go out sometime?"
Eddie threw his head back as his happiness and relief burst out of him in a laugh. "Yeah, sweetheart," Eddie smiled at him. "Let's go out."
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katsukistofu · 7 months ago
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peaches (you're the cream of the crop)
contents ౨ৎ ⋆ touya todoroki x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. cursing. ⭑ a series of grocery trips after touya is discharged from the hospital gives you both a sense of normalcy you never thought you’d be able to have again.
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monday
“put it back.” he wrinkles his nose as you continue to pick out tomatoes from the neat stack in front of you. “i said put it back.”
you stick your tongue out and tie up the bag after you put the last tomato in, dropping it in the cart he was pushing.
“ew.”
you giggle, he was acting like a little kid.
“touyaaa, you have to eat your veggies to grow big and strong.”
“bullshit. all the brat eats is soba and he’s almost taller than me now.” he grumbles. “and tomatoes are fruits.”
“tastes like a veggie.” your hip gently bumps into his after you walk back to him from the vegetables. “and maybe shoto’s taller than you ‘cause he actually listens to me.”
he rolls his eyes at that, and hesitantly reaches for your hand.
he’s still not used to being with you like this, alone, despite knowing you stayed by his side through countless hospital visits he wished he was conscious for.
but it’s okay because you’re here now, soft skin soothing against his rough, charred flesh. you don’t seem to mind though, not even the fact that he tends to holds you a little more tightly than he used to.
touya doesn’t let go of your hand. not once. not when you went to get a napa cabbage, or when you inspected the peaches on sale for any mushy spots.
or even when he lets you drag him to a stand in the freezer aisle where a nice store employee offers you two samples of gyoza, which was surprisingly good considering it was from a brand you’ve never heard of.
you feed touya his share, his eyes wide as he waits for you to finish blowing on it for him before holding it in front of his lips to eat.
not until you ask “can you go get more bags for me touya?” in that soft voice of yours that turns his knees to jelly, does he even consider the idea of releasing you from his grasp. you ran out when you were getting green onions.
turquoise eyes flicker to you, a hint of disappointment in them. he really doesn’t want to let go.
with a quick glance around, it’s obvious the supermarket was practically empty. which made sense, the two of you purposely chose to come on a monday morning.
perfect.
you use the handle of the cart to push yourself on your tippy toes, taking the opportunity to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.
“please?”
he blinks rapidly, ducking his head down as he barely bites back a smile. you had him wrapped around your little finger and you didn’t even know it sometimes.
he’s always been weak for you.
“‘kay. be right back.” and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your throat, knowing he means it this time.
from now on, he’ll always come back to you. to home.
he quickly returns from his trip to the dispenser roll of plastic bags near the checkout line and promptly dumps them in the cart.
“i changed my mind.” he says as he swiftly slips behind you to hug your waist, catching you in the middle of putting a packet of tofu skin in the nearly full cart. a soft weight can be felt on your hair as his chin rests on your head.
you smile, squeezing his forearms. “about what?”
“….i guess i’ll eat tomatoes.”
“awww, for me?”
“only for you.”
friday
— wild geraniums are rich in flower symbolism. they are associated with love, peace, joy, health, fertility, and spirituality.
it was a warm friday afternoon the next time you and touya go shopping.
the shizuoka prefecture had reached a new high today for the month, a sweltering thirty four degrees, and by the time you two get there you’re sweating bullets.
the cold air conditioning blasts you in the face, cooling your sweat as you’re met with the sight of mothers and elderly women bustling around, carts laden with fresh produce to last the next few weeks by cooking warm meals for their families.
he sighs next to you as the both of you stand in silence, enjoying the breeze for just moment longer.
touya grabs a basket for you, since you’re only planning to grab a few things for shoto anyway. a light pink sticky note rests on the palm of your hand, and he watches as you peer at the youngest’s neat handwriting.
a packet of soba noodles, a new pocky flavor, mousse matcha, that he wanted to try with his friends, and a bottle of green tea.
the two of you are in the snack aisle when he texts, touya too busy examining the ingredients of a box of choco-pie to notice you taking your phone out.
shoto [08:51]
Sorry for the late notice, can you please pick up a potted flower?
It’s for mom.
But don’t let Touya-nii pick.
It’s your choice that I trust.
you giggle at his remark, while your fingers fumble for the pen you know is somewhere.
thankfully, touya saves you by magically pulling it out from the depths of your bag, and places it in the palm of your hand.
you whisper a quick thanks and kiss his cheek. his face goes hot the moment you pull away to scribble on the list in your hand.
‘stop by the plant nursery’ is added to your sticky. it was only a block away on the way back to the todoroki house, so touya and you could just swing by really quick after getting shoto’s stuff. due to lack of a hard surface to write on, your writing was kind of messy.
maybe you should’ve asked touya if you could use his chest, but you doubt the grandmas in the aisle over would approve.
a new notification pops up on your screen.
natsuo [09:03]
helloo my favorite future sister-in-law
can u pick up some fish for sashimi pls
pls pls i got an A on my presentation today
touya leans over your shoulder to read the text and fakes a gag. he never liked fish, and eating it raw? no way in hell.
between the four of them inheriting most of their mother’s likeness (fuck whatever his dad’s weak ass excuse for genes was), you’d think they’d also gain her love of warm dishes like oden and niku-jaga.
as the eldest, of course it was his duty to set things straight and comment on his sibling’s questionable tastes.
you [09:04]
ew
you [09:04]
hot soba is better
mission accomplished, touya proudly hands your phone back to you. you bite back a laugh as you read his texts.
how eloquent of him.
natsuo [09:05]
????????
natsuo [09:05]
BITCH
I KNOW THATS YOU TOUYA
you roll your eyes at the two’s antics and grab your boyfriends hand, leading him to the seafood section.
a wide array of fish was displayed before you, and you take a picture of the ones labeled for sashimi.
you [09:10]
which one? :)
natsuo [09:11]
the salmon !!!!!
you [09:12]
ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆
natsuo [09:13]
THANK USOMHCH
I LOV YOU
MORE THANTOUYA
another notification appears as you quickly swipe out of natsuo’s texts before your boyfriend can throw your phone across the supermarket.
fuyumi [09:26]
are you guys at the mart right now?
you [09:27]
we are lol :9
did natsu brag about getting sashimi the moment he got home from his lecture?
fuyumi [09:28]
yeah.
giggling a little, you can almost hear her slightly exasperated tone.
you take a picture of an unsuspecting dabi looking at the frozen steamed buns and he side eyes you after you turn away, already having a sneaking suspicion who you were sending it to.
you [09:28]
touyamakinghearteyesatredbeanbuns.png
fuyumi [09:30]
fatass
you muffle your laughter as touya stalks over to you, swiping the phone out of your hands just as fuyumi texts again.
fuyumi [09:31]
anyways i was going to ask
can you add panko bread crumbs to your cart please?
i wanted make katsudon for you all tonight :>
touya’s types furiously as you hide your face in his chest in a silent fit of laughter.
you [09:32]
only if you take back calling me a fatass, fatass
fuyumi [09:33]
please i’ve hear worse threats from my kindergarteners in the sandbox
you’re almost to the checkout line, before touya stops you.
you don’t even have to take a glance in the direction he’s looking in.
“touya, no.”
“touya, yes.”
he wants to grin so bad but his new staples are still fresh from last week’s surgery.
his mouth settles for a safe pout to win your pity.
unfortunately for him you had an iron will in concerns to his health.
“the nurse said ‘no processed foods for the next thirteen days.’ that includes shrimp chips, dummy.”
your hand around his bicep is firm as you drag him away, and he stares longingly back at the snack aisle.
“where are we going?” he murmurs, the grocery bags that he had insisted carrying in one hand while letting you drag him along in the other.
he makes sure he’s walking on the side of the curb.
you slow your pace to walk beside him and he can hear the teasing smile in your voice.
“to bring a baby home to your mom.”
“okay… wait what?!”
he stares at the potted geraniums in your hands as you exit the plant nursery, eyes flicking up to meet your cheeky grin.
“our baby.”
so that’s what you meant.
you looked a little too pleased with yourself and had somehow gotten a smudge of dirt on your forehead in the process of choosing the perfect flowers for his mother.
he wipes it off with his thumb, and pretends to lick it to see your reaction. your squeals of protest and the way your eyes smile when you laugh make his stomach do a flip.
just like when he met you for the first time.
touya decides anything is worth it as long as he gets to see you make that face. especially pretending eating dirt. fuck the shrimp chips, the only snack he needed was you.
except you weren’t just a snack.
you were a goddamn meal.
he raises an eyebrow and smirks, eyes dancing with mischief as he looks down at you. a firm hand pressed against your belly as he places a painstakingly soft kiss on the spot where the dirt smudge used to be.
“don’t worry.” he breathes. you can feel him smile into the crook of your neck, his fingers caressing your stomach as you squirm ticklishly against him.
“i’ll get you a real one someday.”
you nearly drop the geraniums on his foot.
sunday
today is sunday.
meaning it’s weekly movie night in the todoroki household.
shoto was the one who made it a tradition, after liking it so much when he did it with his classmates. everyone agreed it was the perfect low-effort family bonding activity after a long week.
natsuo just finished taking his finals. you’re relieved not to see him pull anymore all-nighters.
fuyumi’s on summer break. letters from her students written in crayon and covered in silly doodles of her are litter the front of the fridge.
you smile as you pass by it when you’re on on the way to shoto’s room to help him do that little braid he liked on the side of his hair. he was starting to grow it out now.
rei makes sure to volunteer at the local gardening center in the mornings, ensuring her afternoons and evenings are free to spend time with her kids.
enji calls off from work the moment it hits six. his sidekicks at the agency can take care of whatever happens while he’s gone.
touya and you are in charge of buying snacks, and you get everyone’s favorite. after checking out, the two of you head home hand in hand.
you’re snuggled under a blanket with touya. it was shoto’s turn to choose a movie, and the sounds of shrek played as you grew sleepier and sleepier. touya’s warm arms, which had you trapped in his lap, were not helping.
you point at the plate of tuna mayo onigiri on the coffee table. rei and fuyumi had made them earlier while you and him were out at the supermarket.
“remember when you ate so many of those because natsuo dared you to and you got a tummy ache?” he lets out a noise akin to a giggle, and your mouth splits into a grin at the familiar sound.
memories of hot summers sleeping on the floor with the fan on full blast and staying up to see fireflies come flooding back to you.
lying on the roof, you remember him resting his head on your chest while pointing out constellations to you, echoes of shared laughter filling the night air as he’d get them wrong every single time.
the stolen glances at each other between bites of juicy watermelon and soba. his ears turning redder than the slice of fruit in his hands when you catch him staring, the smug look on your face quickly turning into one of concern as he choked on his food and you rushed to pat his back.
in the present, you cuddle up impossibly closer to him, and he shivers as your warm breath hits his neck.
you had really missed this. he did too.
he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the summer with you.
the rest of his life, too. he wasn’t planning on leaving you alone again, not now, not ever.
with you in his arms, he focuses on the movie, laughing along with shoto as fiona attempts to yank out the arrow in shrek’s butt. he turns to you, a smile tugging at his lips. his hair looks even softer against the glow of the projector.
“would you love me if i turned into shrek?”
you grin, poking his cheek. “i’d miss this pretty face of yours too much.”
"scars and all?"
"scars and all."
he frowns playfully at that despite the butterflies coming to life in his stomach, and leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder. you smirk, catching a whiff of your conditioner. “i knew you only liked me for my looks.”
“shush.” you point at something on the coffee table.
he spots the bag of shrimp chips, not so subtly lighting up.
you must have snuck them onto the conveyor belt while you two were standing in the checkout line when he wasn’t looking.
“i love you so much holy shit.” he whispers, nuzzling into your shoulder.
“i know.”
cue the side eye from him.
you roll your eyes at his dramatics and turn around to straddle his strong thighs, raising your hands to gently hold his face in them.
touya shivers as your thumb brushes against his cheek, your touch sweet like the peaches he shared with you after breakfast that morning.
“i love you too.” you whisper back, just in time before he lifts the blanket up to cover the both of you in the dark as he hungrily leans forward to close the gap between you.
rei’s the first one to notice you two asleep on the couch as the ending credits roll.
she gets another fluffy blanket from the closet to layer on top of the one already on your sleeping forms, making sure you’re both properly covered.
she places a kiss on touya’s forehead, then yours, before hugging the rest of her children goodnight and giving them kisses as well.
enji follows suit, muttering a gruff goodnight to everyone. a chorus of quiet good nights trail after him as he lumbers off.
fuyumi, natsuo, and shoto are the last ones left in the living room.
they smirk knowingly at each other as they see touya squeeze you tighter in his sleep, mumbling something about how lucky he is that you’re his.
something about getting you a ring too.
as the three siblings exit the room, they wordlessly shared one last excited glance before heading separate ways to their respective beds. shoto was especially pleased.
when you started living with them, he could ask you to help braid his hair everyday.
he wants you to teach him when you have the time, too. touya could never get it right like you did when you weren’t here.
at least touya had enough of a grasp on his sense of style to help him pick outfits.
you, obviously, were already a todoroki in all of their hearts.
but they still couldn’t wait for their big brother to grow a pair and tie the knot with you.
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2K notes · View notes
baekuras · 2 years ago
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shoutout to past me for having current me who just got a food craving for apples covered by having brought some earlier&put them in the freezer so they won’t just fuck off asap
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lechrts · 2 months ago
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Dinner’s Ready. ✷ Lando Norris
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Pairing: Lando Norris x Bestfriend!reader
Summary: Helping your bestfriend learn how to cook because his out of date freezer meals were a bit concerning.
Word Count: 2.1k
Disclaimer/s: Fluff fluff fluffff!! :3
Vera’s Voice! i liked this one tbh :3 wrote it during my lunch break today!!! hope u enjoy!!!
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“Lando, you cannot be serious.”
“I am serious,” He replied, leaning casually against the counter as you stared at the horror show that was his freezer. “What’s the big deal?”
You turned slowly, holding up a frostbitten container of… something? You squinted at the label. Lasagna? Or… meatloaf? The date scribbled on top was from months ago. Possibly before summer.
“The big deal, you idiot, is that I’m pretty sure this thing is one microwave cycle away from mutating.” You held the container of mystery meat in your hand as you felt a gag creeping forward but you choked it down.
Lando scoffed with a grin, the dimpled, infuriating kind, like this was all a joke to him. “Survival of the fittest.” He shrugged.
“This is not funny!” You groaned, dramatically shoving the container into his arms like you’d caught him red-handed.
“You’re going to give yourself food poisoning one day. Like I’m honestly surprised you haven’t died already.”
“I’m built different.” He argued.
“You’re built stupid.”
He laughed loudly, unbothered by your scolding. “Okay, Mum, what do you want me to do?”
“You’re lucky I'm even here,” You shot back, spinning around to grab your grocery bag like some kind of control freak. “You’re about to learn how to cook a proper meal for once in your life!” A pause.
“God, this is what the rich does to people.” You muttered to yourself.
Lando groaned like you’d told him he had to run ten miles uphill. “Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?”
“Because you’re terrible at following instructions,” You teased, already digging out the flour, eggs, and the rest of your supplies.
He leaned over the counter to peek. “Wait. Are we making pasta?”
“Of course.”
“Why would we do that when the box version is right there? In the cupboard, I might add.”
You turned to him, jaw practically on the floor because he even suggested such a thing. “I’m gonna pretend you didn't just say that.”
“What's wrong with it?!” He scoffed.
“Because it won’t be made with love! And you, Lando Norris, need more love in your diet.”
Lando blinked, then snorted. “That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Very appropriate since you’re the corniest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” You quickly shot back.
His jaw fell. A hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
“Good.”
And soon enough, the two of you got to work and, somewhere along the way, the line between “teaching” and “flirting” blurred, though neither of you dared to point it out.
Standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter, the space between you shrank with every quiet moment. You guided his hands as he clumsily kneaded the dough, your fingers brushing his more often than necessary.
The air grew heavy with something unspoken, the sound of flour dusting the counter and soft laughter filling the silence. When you looked up to correct him, his gaze lingered longer than it should have, and suddenly the lesson felt like an excuse to stay close, to touch without reason, and to hide the butterflies neither of you could ignore.
“Like this,” You said softly, placing your fingers over his to press into the floury mixture.
“I am doing it like that,” He complained.
“No, you’re manhandling it.”
“It’s dough!” He laughed, twisting to look at you, his face unfairly close.
“Yeah, and it’s not going to trust you if you’re aggressive.”
Lando tilted his head, the grin creeping back. “Not going to trust me?”
You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “I don’t make the rules.”
“Clearly you do,” He teased, though he didn’t pull his hands away from yours. You suddenly became very aware of the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, the way his shoulder brushed against yours as you leaned closer.
Your gaze flickered up, and that’s when you realized he was already watching you.
“What?” You asked softly.
“Nothing.” Lando’s voice dipped, quieter than before. His eyes were still on yours, unreadable but warm—too warm.
You swallowed hard, pulling back just a little too quickly. “You’re hopeless,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you turned back to the dough.
Lando didn’t argue. He just smiled, like he knew something you didn’t.
Moving onto the sauce now at the stove, the pasta dough had been cut sloppily into fettuccine, now boiling on another burner. The kitchen looked like the scene of a food fight. Flour dusted the counters, your shirt, his hair—though Lando swore you’d put it there on purpose.
You were focused on stirring the sauce when he came up beside you, far too close for comfort. You could feel him there before you saw him: the shift of the air, the way the space seemed to shrink around him.
“Need something?” You asked suspiciously, refusing to look at him.
“I’m just watching,” He said, voice light but laced with something unreadable.
“You’re hovering.”
“I’m learning.”
“You’re distracting,” You muttered, stirring the sauce a little harder than necessary.
You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Distracting, hm?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” You shot back, rolling your eyes.
When you finally glanced up at him, Lando was leaning against the counter with that insufferably lazy grin of his, arms folded, hair still tousled from where you’d flicked flour at him earlier. He looked at ease—too at ease.
“What?” you asked again, narrowing your eyes.
“You’ve got…” He gestured vaguely toward your face. “Something there.”
“Where?”
“Your cheek.”
You frowned, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.
Lando didn’t move, but the smile tugging at his lips grew. “Missed it.”
“Are you messing with me?”
“Would I ever?”
“Always.” You said flatly, but before you could react, he leaned in—just enough to make your heart catch. His thumb brushed across your cheek, slow and deliberate, the contact feather-light but enough to make your skin tingle where he touched.
It wasn’t fair how something so small could make your breath falter. Your brain felt like it short-circuited, stuck on the warmth of his hand and how close his face was to yours now.
“There,” he murmured softly.
You swallowed hard, eyes locked on his as his hand lingered—his thumb now gently tracing the line of your jaw.
Your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.
“Stop looking at me like that,” You said, barely above a whisper. “You've been doing it all evening.”
“Like what?” Lando’s voice dropped to match yours, quiet but steady. His eyes never left you, his gaze softer now, something unspoken lingering in the space between you.
“Like you’re about to kiss me.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but you saw the shift in his expression. His smile faded—just slightly—as his thumb paused at the curve of your jaw.
“…Would that be such a bad thing?”
Your stomach flipped violently, and you felt rooted to the spot.
Every thought in your head went quiet except for the sound of your pulse thudding in your ears. Lando’s eyes searched yours, still giving you time to say no—to pull away—but you didn’t.
You couldn’t.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he leaned in.
Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank to nothing. He hesitated for just a second, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Close enough to memorize the exact color of his eyes and count the faint freckles across his nose.
And then his lips met yours.
Softly. Gently.
The kiss was tentative, like he was testing the waters, waiting for you to pull back—but you didn’t. The butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your heart a mess of frantic flutters as you leaned into him, your hands lifting to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt like you needed to hold on to something solid.
Lando’s other hand found your waist, warm and steady, anchoring you as he kissed you again—deeper this time, but still careful. His lips moved against yours with the kind of softness that made your chest ache, like he was memorizing the moment, like he didn’t want to rush it.
You could’ve stayed there forever, standing in his flour-dusted kitchen with the sauce bubbling behind you and the rest of the world falling away.
The kitchen was still for a moment—too still. Your lips tingled from the kiss, the air between you and Lando thick with something unspoken but undeniable.
You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe properly. Your heart was still racing in a way that had nothing to do with the pasta you were supposed to be making.
Lando’s forehead rested gently against yours, but his presence, his warmth, was too close, making everything feel so very real in a way you weren’t sure how to process.
Then, slowly, with the faintest chuckle in his voice, he pulled away—just enough to look at you, but not enough to break the contact completely.
He was standing behind you now, just a hair’s breath away, his hands slowly finding their way around your waist again, pulling you against him in a soft but secure hug. You froze as his arms wrapped around your body, his chest pressed lightly against your back.
You could feel the steady beat of his heart, feel the warmth radiating from his body into yours. His chin nestled just above your shoulder, his breath warm against the side of your neck.
“Lando…” You mumbled, the words almost slipping from you without thought, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Mmm?” He didn’t move. His voice was low, soft—a stark contrast to the playful teasing from earlier. “You okay?”
You swallowed hard, your face growing warm from the closeness. “Think I’m having trouble breathing, if I’m honest.”
His lips brushed the back of your neck, a soft, teasing kiss that sent an electric shiver down your spine. “Not surprising,” He murmured, his tone now laced with a playful cocky edge. “I do have that effect on people.”
“Oh, do you now?” You replied, trying to sound sarcastic, but your voice betrayed you—weak and breathless.
“Definitely,” He said with a chuckle, squeezing you tighter, and you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “I mean, I’m not just a great driver, you know. I’m also pretty good at making hearts race.”
You let out a soft groan, hands gripping the counter for balance as you felt your heart actually race. “You are so cringe, it hurts.”
He grinned against your shoulder, his voice lowering. “Am I? I was starting to think you liked me.”
You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “I don’t,” you muttered, though you weren’t entirely sure if you believed it.
Lando leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing lightly against the side of your neck. “Really?”
You couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Think you and I already know the answer.”
The air between you both hung heavy with the playful tension, but just as you thought it was about to become too much, Lando pulled back slightly, his arms still around you as the sauce seemed to be finished.
“Come on, dinner’s ready.”
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like, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated ^_^ !!
tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox
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eatommo · 8 months ago
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Father Figure [j.m.]
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Summary: A shower and DBF Joel "pussy drunk" miller, no plot here. No outbreak/preoutbreak
A/N: Can be read as a stand alone but is a true sequel to Kisses of Fire. Heavily inspired by @absurdthirst and @wardenparker 's Marcus Moreno soulmates fic that I devoured in an all-nighter. Not beta'd all mistakes are my own
c.w: age gap, dub-con due to alcohol, showering together, pet names, oral sex (both recieving), pinv, creampie, food play (he drinks champagne off her pussy), overstimulation, service dom vibes, daddy kink and attached daddy issues, probably missed some lmk!
It wasn't fair. Joel had magic hands when it came to woodworking and tiling, hell you've even seen him work magic at a claw machine, but how was he better at washing your hair?  Every ounce of tension fell out of your muscles, and the cool water washes away the sweat and sticky traces from your thighs.  You keen into his fingertips, leaning back into the warmth of his body and letting yours rest against the plain of his chest.
He hums, and you feel the vibration of it echo in your own content noises, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy,  “Sweet little thing.” You blush, feeling a little shy, which should be ridiculous, but you feel as if he's doting on you, every bit of his attention is working out every knot of tension in your body that you didn't even know existed.  
He steps forward, urging your head back under the water as he washes the soap away with tender touches.  The smell of his soap in your hair is almost overwhelming, and you still feel the ache of being filled by him, by all accounts your brain should be returning to its rightful place right now but all you can think about is how skillfully and hungrily he consumed you.  
You felt dizzy, and the lingering traces of the alcohol were burning off. “I think I could go for another glass.”  You look at his eyes in earnest, hoping to see some sort of reflection of how your heart is swelling in your chest.  
“Already ahead of you baby, I put it and two glasses in the freezer for when you're finished.”  His words are warm, and comforting, as if sensing what you're craving from him.  
You crack a smile, standing on your toes to kiss the hollow of his throat and to your surprise, there's a strangled sound that comes from beneath your fingertips.  It's a groan.  Halting your movements, you stay there, hovering, and watch as he swallows harshly.  
Tauntingly you let the tip of your tongue trace up the column of his throat and he turns to iron in your grasp, “Mr. Miller.” you tsk, the shift in power bolstering each small syllable, “A weakness.” You run the flat of your teeth against his skin, and you feel a shutter rumble through his body in a subtle confirmation.
He tries to play it off, a small rumble of laughter as he runs conditioner through your hair with his fingertips, combing it through the ends of your hair. His cock is half hard just from feeling your mouth on his throat as it rests against your belly, water passing between the two of you as you finish up the dance of sharing his modest shower space. 
Your body should be tired, and admittedly your legs are weaker with each step but you couldn't be more aware of each passing lingering touch as his hands soothingly run up your back coaxing your body to follow and obey. 
By far the most beautiful thing in the room is Joel.  His chest is flush and glistening with droplets of water that fall from his clean, tousled hair and runs down his work-sculpted chest.  
He catches you staring and tilts your chin up to look into his deep brown eyes, “Like what you see baby?” he's being smart with you, and yet you can't find the words to form a retort.  His hand grips your jaw firmly, and he leans down for a kiss. 
His mouth is warm, his tongue languidly swiping across your teeth bringing an embarrassingly loud moan out of you as you enjoy the taste of him and the skimming brush of his thumb on your pulse that all but turns your bones to jelly.  You forget that he even asked you a question until he breaks the kiss with a laugh that sends a shiver down your spine.  “And to think I’m not even done with you yet.”  
He lets his hand move to the back of your head and buries his fingers in your hair and gives a gentle testing tug, you do your best to hold his gaze as he peers into your eyes, you let out a confirmational hum.  With a single glance, he communicates what you’ve wanted since he took his pants off, and he holds your head steady as you sink to your knees.  The tile is warm from the wash of the water, and he shields you from the shower head as you admire his massive semi-hard cock.
You rest your hands on your thighs, resisting the urge to start touching yourself as you kitten lick over a vein that catches your attention, you see the steady throb build as he gets harder beneath your tongue.  You suck the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking lightly as it pulsates against your tongue and his hand tightens in your hair.  You suck more of him into your mouth, swirling around the head and swallowing around him, eager to please and be good for him.  
“That's my girl.” he coos, bringing his other hand to your cheek, caressing it gently but urging you to take more of him all the same.  God, you’re half convinced the man could talk you to an orgasm, his praise wraps around your body like a vise, luring you into a headspace you’ve only experienced tonight.
He jerks his hips, pitching them forward and deeper until he’s nudging the back of your throat.  Tears prick at your eyes, as your jaw begins to ache with the stretch, you find your hands drifting closer to the insistent twinge of your clit begging for his attention again.  The hair at the base of his cock is sparse but it tickles your nose as you reach your breaking point, coughing and sputtering around him.  You use the flat of your tongue to massage the underside of him while he fucks into your mouth.
He grunts as he keeps thrusting a few more times, you taste the salt of his precome on your tongue and he slides out and you gasp for air and swallow the excessive amount of drool pooled in your mouth.  The strings of spit connecting the two of you might just be one of the hottest things you've ever seen. He gives you a lopsided grin, swiping a thumb over your chin, “Messy, messy little girl.”  His voice is deep, hoarse with need and debauchery.  
The shower is off and he pulls you to your feet, wrapping you in a plush towel that's warmed from the steam-filled room.  He places a soft kiss on your forehead and you hum contentedly, recovering from the lack of oxygen and the dizzying weight of his cock in your mouth.  You lean against the cool counter of the sink, running his brush through your hair in an attempt to keep from staring at him, but he settles behind you and slides his cock against your ass as he pins you to the counter.
You can vaguely make out the shape of his body behind yours in the fogged surface of the mirror, mixing together with the beauty of a mosaic painting. He is standing tall as his dark hair falls to tickle your ear as he kisses along the curve of your shoulder.  His mouth is delicate, but the edge of the counter digs into your flesh, you're finding yourself hoping it bruises, as he continues to press his skin to yours.  
He lets a rough palm run from your belly between your breasts and uses it to tilt your head back, kissing the sensitive skin on your throat with a gravelly contemplative hum at your back.  “Go sit, I'll bring up something to drink, hungry?” 
His hand is heavy and calloused, sitting on your throat, the gesture is dominant, and you feel so small and so pliant under his grasp. But the warmth and tenderness between your legs doesn't argue, and your lips are still swollen from the stretch of him in your mouth. You feel a deep satisfaction, heavy like the possessive yet caring touch of his hand guiding your mouth along his shaft.  
“No,” You try and sound confident, but your voice is hoarse and you're beaming at him with a fucked stupid grin on your face, and it comes out a simple squeak.  
Joel smiles down at you softly, running his thumb along your jaw.  The adoration is plain on your face, unmistakable.  You’ve seen him with this look hundreds of times but there’s something about the moment and the intimacy of this, the low-revving engine of your lust that’s almost as palpable as the steam on the mirror.  
He never fails to make you feel special.  His mouth finds your forehead for a lingering but gentle kiss, a promise to return.  He leaves the room tying a towel around his waist, and you let your eyes linger on the flexing cords of muscles in his back as he shuts the door behind him.  
Doing your best to collect yourself, you run your hands through your hair and take a deep breath, using his surprisingly plush towel to tousle your hair as dry as you can manage, before draping it around yourself and securing it above your breast.  
His room is much cooler, but the heat beneath your skin is unstoppable and your body is still as alive as it was with his cock down your throat.  The bed is disheveled, you find a place among the scattered pillows and prop yourself upright, pulling a book off of his nightstand to skim over the description on the back.  
Soon you hear his footsteps on the stairs, he knocks gently on the door before nudging it open carrying two champagne flutes. He settles in next to you, and you saddle up next to him, pressing your hip to his, the urge to be close to him almost overwhelming.  
You take a sip, letting the sweet bubbly liquid settle in your mouth for a moment, washing away the salt of his skin.  You nuzzle your head on his shoulder in affection, feeling both spent and keen on finding out what's next. 
 His hair slicked back makes his deep brown puppy dog eyes even more dreamy as he beams down at you before taking a sip from the glass.  You stare at his hands and the delicate way the veins and tendons flex to hold onto the stem of the glass, swallowing around the lump in your throat.  
“Something I can give ya?” He notices, because of course he does.  You shift, throwing your legs over his lap, and taking another swig from your glass, determined to finish before you give in to your incessant need to be filled by him again.  
You hum, faking being contemplative, “I’m not sure, what else might you offer?”  Playing coy has worked before, but something in his eyes seems hungry, and it stirs something like fear in your belly.  
He holds your gaze, taking a long tauntingly slow sip even letting his tongue sneak out to tease the rim of the glass, “You have no idea baby.”
Instantly you're flooded with flashes of what he could possibly be alluding to, you imagine yourself pinned beneath him, straddling his face, even on your knees for him again.  You've never felt so incredibly giddy over a teasing phrase.  Hoping that there is a promise in his words, and that every little passing ache of potential is just a preview of what's to come. 
He sees it plain as day on your face, eyes glazing over and the curves of an insidious smile twisting your mouth into a lopsided grin.  He wishes he could read your mind, but he settles for running his hand across your abdomen, trailing over the sensitive and admittedly ticklish flesh just to feel you squirm beneath him.  
You take a sip from you glass in an attempt to still your voice before you speak, shifting your hips below his warm touch.  You know what you want, and he is just as privy to your needs, “Use your words, darling.” Another sip, and he presses his lips to the shell of your ear,  “Be sweet for me baby tell Daddy what you want.” 
“Your mouth, please Joel.”  you rush, too aware of your body’s reaction to his touch.  He pulls the towel free of your chest, and takes a nipple between two fingers and tugs until it's tight and you feel a hint of pained arousal. You whine correcting yourself, “Please, daddy.” 
He lets out a small groan, the sound enough to make your clit throb for his attention.  “Good girl.”  He moves between your legs fluidly, the final sip of alcohol stirring in the bottom of the glass as he settles, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed and settling on his knees.  He takes the towel you were wearing, gesturing for you to lift your hips as he arranges the towel beneath you.  
You let your head fall back against the sheets, expecting the warmth of his mouth.  Instead, you feel the ice-cold bubbles of his last champagne sip dribbling gently over your pussy, jumping at the cool sensation and the juxtaposition of his flat tongue swiping up the length of your sex.  He moans against you as the taste envelops his thoughts and he loses himself in the sweet taste of you.  He drags his tongue over your entrance, and swirls over your clit in long, practiced movements.  Every second that passed your body was tensing, building to yet another climax in such a short amount of time your legs start to shake.  
You almost miss the chuckle that escapes him, as he sucks harshly on your clit and your vision starts to ebb white, but he stops just a second short. “Did I make your little legs quiver?” You can’t find it in you to pick up your head off the bed.  
He laughs.
The sound is deep, and throaty, and you can feel it reverberate in your bones as he crawls over you, his face wet from his efforts. He wipes his chin on the back of his hand, his eyes bright and playful.
The slide of his thick cock is tantalizing, your brain is telling you to stop but the throb of him against you and the warmth of his breath against your neck is encouraging you to take him. To be his good little girl. 
His hips stutter as he buries himself inside you, your body giving a small jump when he bottoms out without warning. He groans loudly, pressing his forehead into the crook of your neck.
"Such a good little thing.." His words are slurred slightly, his mind drunk on lust and alcohol. He's so hard and thick and you can barely breathe. Your nails claw into the flesh of his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel the weight of him on top of you both overwhelming and comforting at the same time. 
Your eyes flutter shut, his praise and his cock lulling your brain into a blissful fog. Your cunt grips his shaft and he lets out a low hiss.
Joel moans, burying his face into your hair, his breath coming in short pants.  His thrusts are slow and deliberate, dragging the thick head of his cock across every inch of your walls.  He stays like that, pushing and pulling in and out of you. He fucks you with abandon, his pace quickening as he chases his own pleasure.
Your mind is fuzzy and your eyes are unfocused. You don't know if it's the alcohol, or the fact that Joel's cock is currently splitting you open, or maybe it's the fact that you just don't give a fuck anymore, but everything just seems so right.
It's as if he knows exactly what you're thinking.  "You feel so fucking good."  His fingers grip the sheets and the muscles in his forearms ripple as he fucks you.  
“Make yourself cum,” His thrusts are frantic, and his pace is practically begging you to comply.  Scrunching your face in concentration, a few little overstimulated whimpers earn you more words of encouragement.  “Cum all over me darlin.” 
It's the most you can do to hold on as the coil inside of you tightens impossibly. The friction of him sliding inside of you is too much and not enough all at the same time.  
He finds your chin and pinches it roughly, directing you to look into his eyes as he orders you to touch yourself. You do as you're told fingers snaking in between your bodies to find your swollen and abused clit.  He grins as he sees your eyes roll back in your head and you come with a shout, his name on your lips.
Joel’s body starts to shake as his words evolve into primal grunts and groans.  Your pussy is spent and the sweet smell of your release hangs in the air as he uses your limp body for his pleasure.  
He calls to you as he cums, praising your body and plunging as deep as he possibly can as his cock pulses and empties inside of you. The room spinning and your ears ringing, his body sags on top of yours, his forehead pressed to yours as you place an exhausted kiss to the small patch of skin in his beard you’ve always been fascinated with. 
You lay together catching your breath, your body slowly starting to feel the soreness between your legs and the dull throb of multiple orgasms that leaves your body feeling weightless and heavy at the same time. 
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boypied · 1 month ago
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Bed Chem
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[meet-cute] logan howlett x male reader
summary: while you're out for groceries, you accidentally bump into a majorly sensual dilf and after many failed dates where you've been mistreated or stood up you decide to give the dilf a chance and it's the best decision you could've ever made.
wc: 2.4k
notes: MDNI, FDNI, smut, age gap, dominant logan, submissive reader, riding, praise kink, unprotected anal sex, oral sex (r!giving), nipple sucking, spit kink, light body/facial slapping.
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You hear the ding of the bell as the electric doors open up as you push your trolley into the supermarket. It's been a while since you've gone for a food shop, so you thought that it's probably best to go now and stop procrastinating before you die from starvation from the lack of food in your house. You grip the handle of the trolley as you begin walking down the first aisle of the supermarket as the sound of the wheels spinning fills your ears as well as the loud noise of people clattering past you. You pick up a bar of your favourite chocolate, gently placing it down in the trolley just to make sure it doesn't break or crack, and you can actually enjoy the bar instead of shavings of it. You begin pushing the trolley out of the chocolate aisle and into the freezer section. You opened up the freezer and felt the cold air hit your body immediately, giving you goosebumps as you pulled out the bag of frozen vegetables, placing it down in your trolley. You begin pushing your trolley forward as you hear your phone ping, bringing your eyes down to look at your phone as you tried to read the message you've just been sent from your friend as you feel a collision as you crash your trolley into someone else's one. Your eyes widen as your stomach crashes into the handle of the trolley as your phone flies forward and you fall on the floor in the most dramatic way possible, "what the fuck" you mumble out under your breath as you slowly flutter your eyes open to be met with a scruffy beard older man looking down at you, "are you okay?" He says in a gruff tone as he looks at you over his small glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose.
You stay lying on the floor for a moment until you take his hand and feel the force of your body flying up as he pulls you up towards his body, "Sorry about that" he says in a soft tone as he gently squeezes your hand before pulling away. He brings his hand up to delicately caress the bump on your forehead that occurred when you hit the floor, "Ooh, that's a nasty bump," he says in a concerned manner "Better get some ice on that before it gets so bad" he gives you advice with a warm smile on his face, deepening his smile lines as he looks at you. He leans down into the freezer beside you both and grips a bag of peas, gently placing them against your forehead. "Sorry, this was all my fault. I wasn't looking at where I was going." You begin rambling on about how sorry you are until Logan just starts laughing as he places his other hand on your shoulder, "I wasn't looking at where I was going either, I was cleaning my bathroom." He says to you in a low tone so that no one else hears that he was partially to blame for the collision. You let out a chuckle, and your cheeks redden, feeling his hand scrunch against your shoulder as he removes the iced peas away from your forehead. "So..are you seeing anyone?" Logan says straight up as he smiles at you with an innocent look on his face. Your eyes widen, and you choke on your spit. "woah! That's a bit forward, " you say while chuckling, and Logan joins in on your laughs. Shrugging his shoulder and he steps closer to you, closing the distance between the two of you. Logan brings his hand up to caress your cheek. "I know, but it's not every day an old man like me comes across a guy that is so... smoking hot." He says to you as he bends down to come face to face with you as he stares into your eyes, making your face go from pink to a deep shade of red "do I make you nervous...sexy" he whispers in your ear causing you to let out a quiet whimper at him words. Your asshole is practically opening up for him already, opening up for that sexy old man. You both stare at each other for a moment before a small smirk begins to grow on your face as you finally make eye contact with him.
twenty minutes later
Logan manages to slide his key into his locked door, giving it a couple of rattles, and then he twists the key, hearing the sound of the lock unlocking itself. His breath hitches as he feels you cover his neck in kisses latching your lips on his neck, giving him a fresh hickey next to the previous one you gave him just moments before. Your legs wrapped around his waist while his veiny hand gripped against one cheek to hold you steady while Logan pushes the door open, he watches it swing open in a swift motion as you run your hands through the back of his hair as you whimper tasting his neck. He kicks his door shut, listening to it slam shut. He lays you down against his couch as he stares down at you as you begin undressing for him, revealing more and more of your body to him. Logan doesn't take his eyes off you as he tears his shirt off his body, revealing his hairy chest and perfectly chiselled body. You gasp as your eyes focus on his body. He unbuckles his belt, throwing it onto the couch chair next to him, saving it for something he might do with you later on. He pulls down his jeans revealing his thick bulge in his underwear as you pull off your underwear exposing your cock to him. "fuck" he grumbles out underneath his breath as he watches you expose yourself for him. Logan sits down on the couch as you get down on your knees on the cold wooden floor, you run your hands over his thighs as he caresses his thumb against your lower lip. You gently place a kiss on his thumb causing him to bite his own lower lip. You gently lean down to place a kiss on his thigh as your eyes never leave his until he pulls down his briefs to release his monster of a cock causing you to let out a gasp, "it's big, right?" Logan says in a slight cocky tone causing you to nod your head.
You lean forward slightly wrapping your hands around the base of his cock, gently placing a kiss against his pre-cum soaked tip. Logan lays his head back, and his eyes flutter shut, feeling your touch against his sensitive member. Your eyes flutter slightly until they look up to study his face as you notice the pure bliss as you turn your head to the side to run your tongue all the way down to his base, placing a little kiss on his balls causing Logan's body to shudder. "Baby." he coos out in a low tone as he reaches out to stroke the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. You swirl your tongue around his tip, making sure to savour the flavour of his pre-cum soaked tip. Logan leans his head forward to watch as his cock slowly disappears into the warmth of your wet mouth, your tongue sliding all over his cock as it gets further and further into your throat. You press your face right against his bushy pubes making sure to breathe in his manly scent, a scent that you're already growing to love. "Mhm," you moan out as your tongue slides down the back of his cock making Logan let out sharp but manly whines, "f-fuck" he grunts out as he places his hands either side of your head "Can I?" He says in a gentle tone as you loom up at him and nod your head while his cock is buried in your throat. He takes the consent you've given him and he slowly takes control of your head, using it as a fleshlight for his cock. "M-Mhm!" You whimper out as he speeds up, his hands holding your head as you slide up and down on his length your tongue savouring the taste of the pre-cum that is currently pouring out of the tip of his cock and coating your tongue. He pulls your head off his cock and begins to breathe heavily as you watch his spit coated cock glisten and twitch "S-Sorry...if we carried on with that I would've nutted" he says slightly embarrassed but you get up and straddle his lap placing your hand either side of his face causing him to look up at you, "don't be embarrassed, I'd of taken it as a compliment" you say softly causing him to let out a chuckle.
You place your thumb against his lip, "o-open," you mumble out shyly to him as you caress his lower lip. Logan happily obliged to you slightly out of the blue request but opened wide and sticks his tongue out. You let a string of spit drop out of your mouth and onto Logan's tongue. He makes sure to lap it up and swallow it all. Logan's hands caress your back as he makes his way down to grip your asscheeks very firmly, "so juicy," he mumbles out under his breath as he gives it a gently tap just to see your reaction "h-harder" you mumble out in a soft innocent seeming tone but he makes sure to obey your command and he spanks your ass harder causing it to send a ripple across your thigh, his rock hard cock pressed against your tight asshole that is pulsating and begging for more. "f-fuck me." You lean closer to him, whispering seductively into his ear, causing his body to shudder with excitement. "Ever been fucked by someone much older?" He whispers back to you while leaning forward to gently take your nipple into his mouth as he slowly runs his tongue back and forth over the nub, you shake your head "n-no" you say in a soft tongue as your breath hitches feeling his tongue against your nipple. Logan's hand grip onto your hips whilst the other graps his own cock and he lines up his cock with your hole that is so desperately begging for a good pounding. Once his cock is finally lined up he grips both sides of your hips firmly and he gently begins to push you down feeling his cock push past the tight muscle ring and deep into your velvet walls, inch by inch you take his thick cock, your asshole widening to accommodate his girthy size.
Once you're finally at the base, Logan bucks his hips up slightly to adjust his body. Your eyes flutter back as you feel his cock twitch inside of you and with each twitch of his sensitive cock your g-spot gets touched, "mhm" you mumble out practically too cock dumb to even think or create a sentence. You gently place your hands down against his hairy chest as you slowly begin to pick up your body and slam down against his thighs with a loud slap noise. Logan places his hands behind his head as he watches as you pick yourself up just to slam yourself down against his body. He watches the pure bliss that is plastered across your face. Logan wraps one of his hands around your cock and he begins to slowly pull back and forth as he jerks you off, he tries to match the rhythm of which you're bouncing on his cock aswell as curving his hand up with each jerk that sends shivers up your spine from how good it feels. You speed up your bounces as your hands caress his pecs, Logan's hands speed up as he jerks you off. You throw your head back in pure bliss as you feel Logan's cock twitch inside you indicating that he is close and with the way he is jerking you off, you're aswell. "L-Logan!" You whimper out as your cock twitches, your eyes flutter back as he speeds up his hand movements causing you to shoot your load all over his hand, you slow down your bounces as you breathe heavily and with your release Logan's cock twitches and he shoots his load deep inside of you. Your eyes flutter back as you feel his load painting your velvet walls white. You breathe heavily as your body collapses against Logan's exposed one.
Logan brings his cum soaked hand to his mouth as he licks your cum off it, "mhm...d-did it taste nice?" You mumble out tiredly as your body rests against his. Logan smirks and nods his head as he grips the base of his cock and pulls his semi-hard cock out of your asshole, "do you wanna stay over?" He whispers in your ear in a soft tone as he gently places a kiss on your cheek, "y-yeah I'd love too" you say softly as Logan picks you up and carries you into his bathroom and he places you down in the bath as he climbs in behind you. You rest your body against his as the tub fills up with warm water as you watch it coat both your bodies. You both relax in the bath for a while, cleaning each other up but while you're laying there you feel his cum drip out of your asshole and into the bath water. After a long warm bath, you and Logan both climb out and dry off. Logan hands you a large fluffy robe as you tie it around your waist, and you watch as he slips on plaid pyjama bottoms and a white vest. He leans down as you place his glasses on his face, pushing it up the bridge of his nose, and you gently bite your lip, Logan walks over to his armchair, and he picks up a book as he opens it up and begins reading as you walk over to him and you climb up to sit on his lap and you rest your legs over the arm rest as you lay you head against Logan's, this is what you've longed for a sexy man who knows how to please you but also is a cutie patootie, you think to yourself as you read the words with him as he flicks through the book pages.
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taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband
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satori-runa · 4 months ago
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—Sweet as you
Summary: You and Captain Curly share a meal, despite your irritation regards the device that bakes your food.
Tags: Established Relationship, fluff, before the crash
Words: 0,8k
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
No matter how many times you stand in the kitchen, Curly would always be amused by the sheer expression of despair on your face. He couldn't lie, it was extremely cute for him to see your brows furrow in irritation and your nose scuffing up slightly.
“You can't tell me that is cooking.” You mumbles, glancing at the device on the counter and the two packs of different ingredients in your hand. “This is more like…dark forbidden witchcraft.”
Being stuck in space, between all these stars, means that there is no fresh food, shops, or delivery services. The crew was certainly stuck with the device that mixes packs to make dishes. And as a former self-claimed chef, you hated it. This wasn’t cooking, and it never would be.
“Food is food.” The Captain chuckled quietly, bringing some tone into his usually exhausted voice. “As long as it works and we don't starve.” He took the packs gently out of your hands and placed them onto their respective spots in the cooking device, watching it close and make some bread.
“Told you, evil witchcraft.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the machine whirr to life, producing something that only barely resembled real food. “I miss actual cooking.” You muttered, leaning against the counter. “You know, where you chop vegetables, sauté things, maybe burn a little garlic by accident.”
Curly smiled, stepping closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I know,” he said softly, his voice less teasing now. “And I miss seeing you in your element, making something real. But hey, when we get out of here, I might see what I can do to improve this experience for you. Who knows, maybe we can get an actual freezer to store products and a stove.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the exhaustion of space life momentarily lifting.
You looked up at him, your frustration melting a little under his gentle gaze. “You promise?”
He chuckled, a hand resting lightly on your waist. “Of course. You’re going to make us a feast as soon as we’re planet-side again.”
You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I’ll hold you to that.” The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you moved your hands to hold him closer.
Curly pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing through your hair. “In the meantime, we’ve got witchcraft bread.” He grinned, reaching for the freshly made loaf. “And the company isn’t so bad either.”
You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I guess I can live with that.”
You settled at the small table with Curly, the freshly made bread, and some packets of synthetic jam between you. Despite your earlier complaints, the warmth of the meal and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel… different. Better. Curly tore off a piece of bread and handed it to you, his eyes soft as he watched you.
You hesitated at first, taking a small bite, expecting the usual bland taste. But somehow, with Curly sitting across from you, smiling like that, it didn’t seem so bad. The bread was warm, and the sweetness of the jam clung to your tongue in a way that felt almost comforting.
“You’re enjoying it.” Curly said, his lips shifting into a grin as he watched your expression soften.
“Maybe just a little.” You admitted, taking another bite. “But it’s definitely not because of the bread.” You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around you like a blanket.
Curly chuckled, taking a bite himself. But when you noticed a few crumbs clinging to his lips, you reached out instinctively. “You’ve got something…” You murmured, brushing the crumbs off the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips quirked at your touch, eyes twinkling.
Before you could pull your hand back, Curly gently caught your wrist, holding it in place. His gaze locked with yours for a moment, soft and teasing, before he slowly leaned forward. His lips pressed against your fingers, and he licked a bit of jam that had smeared onto your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.
A warm flush spread across your cheeks as his lips lingered, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Tastes better this way.” He murmured with a playful smile.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you, so full of affection. “You’re impossible.” You whispered, feeling the closeness between you like a steady heartbeat.
“Maybe.” He said, still holding your hand gently in his, “But I make the jam taste sweeter, don’t I?”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded as you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, you do.” You whispered, feeling the warmth of him giving you comfort.
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marsdql · 1 month ago
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Its okay, baby — p.sh
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[ paring: soft!park sunghoon x sensitive!fem!reader ] — synopsis: your boyfriend coming home to you being sulky because of the bad day you just experienced and comforting you | genre: teeth rotting fluff, babying | wc: 1.1k
————
Sunghoon unlocked the door, balancing a bag of takeout in one hand as he stepped into the quiet apartment. He kicked off his shoes, the familiar scent of home settling over him. “Y/n, I’m back!” he called out, expecting to hear your cheerful reply from somewhere in the apartment.
Instead, he was greeted by silence.
His brows furrowed as he set the bag on the counter, scanning the space. Then he spotted you on the couch, curled up with your knees tucked to your chest, your face buried in your hands. The soft sound of sniffles reached his ears, and his heart dropped.
“Y/n?” Sunghoon’s voice softened, worry evident as he crossed the room in a few long strides. He crouched beside the couch, his hand gently brushing your shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You looked up at him, your cheeks stained with tears, and held out your trembling hand. “I fell…” Your voice was a broken whisper, thick with tears. “It hurts, hoon…”
His eyes darted to your outstretched hand, and his breath hitched when he saw the angry red bruise blooming on your palm. He carefully took your hand, cradling it as if it might shatter under the slightest pressure. “Oh, baby…” he murmured, his voice laced with concern.
“It’s stupid,” you sniffled, wiping your face with your sleeve. “I went ice skating, and I thought I could practice a little. But it was crowded, and everyone was playing hockey. I barely had any space, and… and I slipped.”
Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing his face—not at you, but at the situation. He knew how much you wanted to improve your figure skating skills, and the thought of you being pushed aside by careless skaters made his chest ache.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked gently, his thumb tracing the edge of the bruise as if his touch could soothe the pain.
“I didn’t want to bother you…” You trailed off, fresh tears welling in your eyes. “I just wanted to be good at skating, like you.”
At that, Sunghoon’s expression softened completely, his heart breaking at your words. He reached up to cup your cheek, his touch warm and steady. “Angel, you don’t have to push yourself like that. You’re already amazing, okay? And you never bother me—I want to be there for you, always.”
You sniffled, leaning into his hand as you whispered, “It just hurts so much…”
“I know, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Sunghoon gently scooped you into his arms, carrying you as if you weighed nothing. He settled you back onto the couch, propping up some pillows behind you before grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.
He returned quickly, kneeling in front of you as he pressed the cold pack to your injured hand. “This’ll help with the swelling,” he murmured, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. “Tell me if it’s too cold, alright?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to hold back another wave of tears. Sunghoon noticed immediately and leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “Hey, it’s okay to cry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”
And that was all it took for the dam to break. You clung to him, your uninjured hand gripping his hoodie as you sobbed into his shoulder. Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tightly as he dared without hurting your injured hand.
“You’re so strong, y/n,” he said softly, rubbing slow circles on your back. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time. I’m here, okay? Always.”
Eventually, your sobs subsided into quiet sniffles, and you pulled back slightly to look at him. “Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse.
Sunghoon smiled, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “What are boyfriends for?”
He carefully bandaged your hand, his movements precise and gentle, before pulling you into his lap. “Now, no more skating without me, got it?” he teased lightly, though his tone was still full of concern.
You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “Got it.”
“Good,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Now, let’s get some food in you, and then I’ll help you feel better, alright?”
“Alright,” you whispered, feeling safe and loved in his arms.
“Come on, baby,” Sunghoon murmured, leaning down to scoop you up from the couch. His strong arms slipped under your legs and back, lifting you with so much ease it made you feel even smaller against him.
You let out a small, tired whimper as your head found its place against his chest, your uninjured hand clutching at his shirt.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice soft like the lull of a warm breeze. “You shouldn’t be sleeping out here. Let me tuck you into bed, okay?”
You nodded slightly, the motion lazy as you relaxed in his hold. Your aching hand throbbed faintly, but the warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his breathing started to make everything else blur.
Pushing open the bedroom door with his foot, Sunghoon carried you over to the bed. He gently laid you down, careful not to jostle your bruised hand. The mattress dipped under your weight, and you sighed, already starting to sink into the comfort of it.
Sunghoon didn’t leave, though. He lingered at the edge of the bed, pulling the covers up and over you, tucking them in around your shoulders with so much care it made your chest ache in a different way.
“There we go,” he murmured, his voice soft and laced with affection. “All nice and warm.”
You blinked up at him sleepily, your lips parting as if to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, your hand reached up—your good one—grasping at the sleeve of his shirt.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, crouching down to your level.
“Stay,” you whispered faintly, your voice almost inaudible.
His smile softened even more as he nodded. “Of course, I’ll stay. You don’t even have to ask.”
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling up a chair next to the bed. His hand found yours beneath the blanket, his thumb stroking gently over your knuckles.
“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “I’m right here. Sleep well, baby.”
And as you drifted off, the last thing you felt was the safety of his touch and the quiet promise of his presence.
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