#with a smidgen of spice

[jhalya]

👼🍛🪟 Celebrían shares her food with Baba! (WCH)

🔗Read on AO3.

[cottonlemonade]

Accidental Confession

word count: 1562 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: rival!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with smidgen of spice, enemies to lovers

warnings: mdni

request: fluffy-spicy, accidental confession with rival Kuroo, as manager

When you moved to Tokyo, you had your pick of schools. You could have gone to Fukurodani or even Itachiyama, the entrance exams to either was a joke, but after you visited a local volleyball tournament with your parents you decided on Nekoma. Their persistence, strategy and determined gameplay was hypnotizing and your fascination for the club was born. You wanted to be a part of the team, design tactics against individual opponents and fantasized about giving the decisive hint to lead them to victory. So imagine your disappointment, when you met the team in your first year and some bed-headed, cocky boy went at it with the libero. From what you gathered, the libero, Yaku, had badly defeated the other one, Kuroo, during a game in middle school and Kuroo had been salty ever since. Instead of trying to mediate you agreed with Yaku‘s arguments and took his side, turning Kuroo from a mildly annoying nuisance into the enemy.

On the other side, it took Kuroo two summers to realize that all his proverbial pigtail-pulling meant he was in love. The feeling hit him one afternoon as he lounged upside down on Kenma‘s bed, watching his friend defeat the latest boss in a video game. Kuroo’s mind began to wander to the previous week when Kenma had pointed out that he had mentioned you six times in as many minutes and the realization was so earth-shattering that he nearly slid to the floor.

When you met him again in the hallway on your first day back of third year, you were prepared for whatever lame comment would come your way. What you didn’t expect was him avoiding your eyes and hurrying around the corner. You squinted, a skeptical frown plastered on your face. As you walked past he was casually conversing with the water fountain. What was he playing at?

“Hey, demon spawn, do you have a minute?”

Yaku looked up from the cup ramen he was slurping in the convenience store and although a little miffed that his quality after school time was interrupted, he nodded to the empty seat next to him.

Kuroo plopped down and Yaku began twirling a new ball of noodles around his chopsticks, thinking nothing more than this would probably concern homework or volleyball.

There was no use to dance around the subject.

“Does y/n ever talk about me?“

The libero almost choked and Kuroo waited until he calmed down, not moving a muscle to help.

“With deepest hatred, yeah.“, Yaku eventually pressed out and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

“You sure?“

“Very sure.“

“Maybe it’s just a front for her real feelings because obviously she wouldn’t wanna tell you that she is madly in love with me and-“

“No no. She really really hates you.“

“But I’m so lovable...“, Kuroo pouted, earning a scoff from his fellow teammate.

“Why are you asking, anyway? You better not try pulling some dumb prank on her.” Yaku scowled.

“Me? Never. - I just… I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“That’s a really weird thing to wonder about.”

“Do you never have a self-absorbed day? Hahaha…” Kuroo laughed nervously and grabbed the still wrapped melon bread next to Yaku, opening the package and taking a large bite to muffle his still ongoing awkwardness.

“Hey!”

“Just doing you a favor. These aren’t good for you.”, Kuroo said wisely through a mouthful of pillowy bread and, swallowing laboriously, added, “Sorry, gotta go. Thanks for this.”

Unfortunately, the uselessly tall jerk was nimble in his movements and jumped up to rush out of the glass doors. Yaku was about to pounce but the convenience store clerk asked him for quiet and, apologizing over and over with deep bows, he went back to his ramen, groaning inwardly because the noodles had gotten soggy.

Alright. He had three options. Pine for the rest of his days, wear you down over time with his infinite charm or confess and run away before you could insult him. None of them really tickled his fancy and with his disadvantageous starting point of “deepest hatred” - as per Yaku - his chances were slim but there was nothing else for it.

“So…” Kuroo ignored your rolling eyes when you turned to him. It was after practice on a Friday and he figured if he confessed now he had all weekend to hide in case it would go south.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Why?”

You eyed him suspiciously, standing there all tall and handsome in the utility room. He had just wheeled in the basket of volleyballs, subconsciously placing his hand on one of them for support. Hoping no one would bear witness to his almost certain failure he closed the door behind him. He did it gently so you didn’t think he was trapping you, but the gesture made you raise a brow nonetheless.

When he didn’t answer right away you snapped, “What’s it to you?”

You ducked your head a bit at your tone. The hostility was of course just a front for your real feelings because obviously you wouldn’t want to tell Yaku that you were madly in love with Kuroo and -

“I thought maybe you wanna grab a drink at the convenience store on the way home.”

He increased the pressure on the ball, tension running through his body and his heart throbbed loudly in his ears.

To his surprise you didn’t shoot him down immediately but just asked, “Who else is coming?”

“No one?”

“Why?”

“Be…cause I want to be alone with you?”

“Why?”

Abort, abort, abort!

“Because I like you?”, he offered and gave you a smile that may have been an attempt at “winning volleyball captain” but only reached “uncomfortable idiot” at best. He flinched when you started laughing, then, in his desperation to save face joined in, although robotically.

“That was a good one.”, you admitted.

“Yeah… definitely. Got you good…”, he said lamely, “Well it’s been great talking to you as always. Remember this was a joke. Not serious. At all! Definitely didn’t confess to you just now, okay? - Okay, cool. See ya bye!”

He spun on his heel, internally rolling his shoulders, ready for a sprint to get far away, and a moment later inspected the useless door handle in his hand. A loud clunk kindly let him know that the other side of the handle had broken off as well. Oh no.

“Kuroo, that’s not funny.”

“I agree.”, he said, much calmer than he felt, and raised his hand to knock on the metal door, “Hello?! Anyone?! Can someone open the door, please?! There are people stuck in here!”

You took out your phone and dialed Yaku’s number. But after ringing through to voicemail twice, you sent him a text. “They’re all probably already in the shower.”, you said, “Mori will get the text eventually and come to help.”

“Did you tell him you’re in here with me? Cause that might delay his response time.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well he wouldn’t really rush to help me, wouldn’t he?”

You crossed your arms and, adding an exasperated sigh, said, “You know, you guys are so childish. Why can’t you just get along?”

“We’re childish?”, he asked with mocking disbelief, “We are not the ones who hate on the incredibly charming, suave, level-headed captain for no reason.”

Being met with silence he added quietly, “Too much?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t hate you so much if you weren’t so damn kissable. It’s annoying.”, you muttered.

“What?”

“I said, you’re annoying!”

“And the part before that?”

“Didn’t say anything before that. You’re hearing things, grandpa.”

“Nooo, I definitely heard the word kissable.”

“Aww, going senile?”

“Hey, listen! You’re no different, okay?! If you weren’t so god damn cute all the time I wouldn’t have to ask for notes on lessons so often! You’re freaking distracting!”

You squared your shoulders, your body turning warm from embarrassment and, because you didn’t know what else to feel, completely unfounded offense.

“Oh, you think it’s easy for me?! With that stupidly great hair you’re always sporting?! And don’t even get me started on your voice! Makes me wanna drag you into an empty classroom!”

“What about your fruity lipgloss, huh?! You’re just asking me to stare!”

“And your biceps?!”

“And your hips?!”

“Your dumb weirdly hot smile?!”

“Why are we yelling nice stuff?!”

“Because I like you, too, you idiot!”

A moment’s pause draped itself between you, only disturbed by the breathless panting on either side.

“Yeah?”, he said finally, “Prove it.”

You unceremoniously closed the distance between you and pushed him back against the metal door, standing on tiptoes and grabbing the front of his jersey for good measure. The coward eventually unfroze and gripped your pudgy waist to pull you closer. His hands were everywhere and you gasped when he squeezed your ass, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. When you needed to come up for air he instead opted for dipping his head lower, kissing your neck, obviously determined to leave a hickey if he continued as he did. And you were very much about to let him when the door opened and both of you tumbled out. Kuroo made sure to cushion your fall, holding you safely in his arms when you landed on top of him and looked up to meet the utterly disgusted grimace of Yaku.

a/n: I got three accidental confession requests for Kuroo in slightly different variations xD so I decided to kind of mash them all together. For a purely fluffy non-manager option I have A Chaotic Confession if you’d like to check it out ^^ thank you so much to the three anons who requested this prompt. I hope you enjoyed it 🌟 (special thanks to @haikyu-mp4 for helping me out of a corner with this one!)

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Hihi!

I just read your rules, so I hope this request follows them:

Could I request an leviathan!merman x fem reader? I'm not super picky about the details of his appearance, so you can have fun with that.

I'm thinking, maybe, reader is prisoner on a pirate ship and leviathan!merman attacks and sinks the ship because it constantly disturbs the water of his territory. He finds reader, realizes he almost killed an innocent captive, and shenanigans ensue from there. He takes her home with him to take care of her while she recovers from the imprisionment/his attack since it's too far to safely take her back to shore, much less a shore she knows. His underwater cave has an airpocket/above-sea level entrance as well as the main entrance; how lucky and convenient, amirite?😅

Maybe he's slightly awkward and it makes him seem detached and scary...

I'm hoping for fluffy with a smidgen of spice or smut at the end?

Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!🫶

holy shit this was insane i love you

merman x fem! reader fluff and smut

warnings/tags- short smut peice at the end, fem reader, monster x human, mentions of imprisonment, i gave him a name at the end

word count- 3727 words (im tired)

The salt-laden air was suffocating. The relentless waves rocked the creaking pirate ship as it cut through the waters, a prison you couldn't escape. Days had passed since your capture, and you were bruised, sore, and tired from the confinement. The crew barely acknowledged your existence beyond the scraps of food they tossed your way. They were focused on something else, something beyond the horizon that kept them nervous and on edge.

One of the older pirates muttered about a sea demon—a creature that hunted ships around these waters. You thought it was nothing more than sailors’ superstition, but as the air turned heavy and the sea became unnaturally still, an eerie sensation crawled down your spine. The crew became frantic. Eyes darted toward the water, watching for something. You couldn’t tell what.

It happened fast. The once-still water erupted into chaos, and the ship shuddered violently as if something enormous had collided with it. Men screamed weapons were drawn, but none of it mattered. The sea itself had risen against them. Waves higher than any you'd ever seen crashed down, tearing the ship apart. You were thrown across the deck, striking the mast hard, the air rushing out of your lungs as darkness claimed you.

---

When you awoke, the world felt different. The coldness of the water had soaked through every part of you, the sensation both numbing and alarming. You blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, but nothing made sense. The sea still roared, but you weren’t drowning.

You were… floating? Treading?

Something—or someone—had you in its grasp. Panic surged through you, and you tried to twist away, only for the grip around you to tighten, keeping you still. Then you felt it—scales. The slick, cool texture brushed against your skin as a powerful tail swam you through the water with ease. You struggled, coughing up saltwater, your limbs heavy and useless.

A voice, deep and foreign, hummed in the water. “Don’t… fight.” The words were broken but clearer than you expected. You tried to crane your neck, to see what held you, but before you could make sense of the situation, you were lifted above the water.

The night sky greeted you once more, stars shimmering against the black ocean. But it wasn’t the stars that took your breath away. As your vision focused, you were pulled into the shallow confines of a cavern. Rock formations loomed above, sharp and jagged, and the faint glow of bioluminescent algae clung to the cave walls, casting an ethereal light across the scene.

Then you saw him.

The creature holding you was enormous. His upper body was humanoid but covered in dewy scales, glistening under the faint light. His skin was a mix, inky gunmetal grey and Cerulean blue, blending with the shadows and the sea. The  scales grew rougher around his neck and joints, trailing down to the massive tail that curved behind him. His eyes, glowing with an eerie gold hue, met yours, unblinking and intense.

A sea-creature.

The pirate tales weren’t lies.

He moved carefully, setting you down on a small ledge that jutted out of the water inside the cave. You coughed again, your body shaking as the cold air hit your wet skin. For a moment, the creature just stared at you, his eyes scanning over your form with something you couldn’t place. Was it curiosity? Guilt? You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t the mindless aggression you'd expected from the stories.

"Pretty… girl," he whispered, the words hesitant as his voice echoed in the cavern.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear mixing with confusion. Why had he saved you? Had he been the one to destroy the ship? The silence between you stretched on, uncomfortable and thick. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated, unsure if you wanted to know the answer to your questions.

He shifted awkwardly, his long tail curling into itself as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. The leviathan’s hands, large and clawed, flexed as he tried to mimic human gestures. He brought one to his chest as if trying to calm you. His voice was gruff and halting. “Hurt..?”

You swallowed, trying to find your voice. "I... I was a prisoner."

The leviathan frowned, his expression twisting as if he was processing your words. He pointed to himself. "I… destroy..Save you." he spoke blankly

Your mind reeled. He had attacked the ship. He had killed everyone on board—pirates, yes, but also human beings. And yet here he was, trying to help you. There was no malice in his expression, only an awkward uncertainty, like he wasn't used to interacting with anyone, let alone a human.

“I…” You stammered, feeling small under his gaze. “Why?”

His head tilted, brow furrowing. He seemed to struggle with the question, trying to find the words. "Innocent," he finally murmured. "No kill… innocent."

You wanted to believe him. But trust didn’t come easily when you’d just been ripped from one terrifying situation and thrown into another. “You killed them all,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

The leviathan’s eyes darkened, his tail thrashing slightly in the water, sending ripples across the surface. “They… disturbed…” His hand clenched into a fist before he loosened it again, trying to maintain his composure. “This… my home. They hurt… water. Hurt… sea.”

You blinked, processing his words. He was a protector of these waters, not a mindless monster. He had been defending his territory. The pirates had angered him and threatened his home. And in his attempt to drive them away, he had nearly taken you with them.

“I didn’t mean to be there,” you said, your voice softer now. “They captured me.”

He nodded slowly, his golden eyes never leaving yours. There was a strange kind of innocence to him despite his monstrous appearance, like he was trying to understand, trying to make sense of the situation as much as you were. “I… care for you. You are safe… here.”

You looked around the cave, the glow from the algae creating an otherworldly atmosphere. The air pocket allowed you to breathe, and while the water was cold, the rock beneath you was dry. For now, you were safe.

But how long would you be here? How far from the land were you? Your thoughts spiralled, and before you could stop yourself, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were stranded in an underwater cave with a creature who had just destroyed an entire ship, and you had no idea what would happen next.

Seeing your distress, the leviathan made a low sound, a soft chirping noise that seemed almost out of place for something his size. He inched closer, his movements slow and deliberate as if trying not to scare you. “Safe… now,” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper.

Your body trembled, a mix of cold and exhaustion taking over, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. You were too weak to respond, and as your vision blurred, you caught a final glimpse of the leviathan’s concerned gaze.

“Rest,” he murmured, his deep voice the last thing you heard before the darkness took you once more.

---

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke again. The cave was still, the water lapping gently at the edges of the rocks. Your body ached, but the sharp pains from earlier had dulled to a manageable throb. As you stirred, you noticed the leviathan watching you from the water, his upper body resting on the edge of the ledge.

“You… awake,” he said, a hint of relief in his tone.

You pushed yourself up slowly, wincing as your muscles protested. “Yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your forehead. “I’m awake.”

The leviathan studied you for a moment before shifting his weight and submerging partway into the water again. “No go… back to land,” he said, his voice low but clearer than before. “Too far. Too… dangerous.”

You frowned. “Then what do I do? Just… stay here?”

He looked almost embarrassed, his golden eyes darting away from yours. “For now. I… help. You stay safe.”

It wasn’t an ideal solution, but what choice did you have? You were miles from land, and even if you could swim back, there was no guarantee you’d survive the journey.

As the days passed, the initial fear that had consumed you began to ebb away, replaced by something you couldn’t quite define. The leviathan, whom you had come to think of simply as "him," seemed to be doing everything in his power to make you feel safe. Every day, he brought you food from the sea—fish, clams, seaweed—arranging it in neat little piles on the dry ledge of the cave where you rested. It wasn’t long before you stopped seeing him as a monster. He had saved you, after all. And there was a gentleness in his awkwardness, an effort to communicate that made you feel like you weren’t just some stranded victim in a strange land. 

He never wandered too far, always returning with something new—a small collection of smooth stones, intricately shaped shells, and occasionally, bones that had been bleached by the ocean. He would lay them down carefully in front of you, watching for your reaction with bright, expectant eyes. At first, you didn’t think much of it. He was probably just offering you things he thought might interest a human, but you noticed that he always seemed delighted when you picked them up, inspecting each one closely. 

You had begun making a habit of it—admiring the shells, thanking him for the smooth, polished stones. His face would light up in a way you’d never seen before, his golden eyes flashing with that strange, bioluminescent glow that was becoming more familiar to you. 

And it wasn’t just his gifts. His body language had started to shift in subtle ways. When he emerged from the water, the faint freckles along his face and shoulders glowed softly, but when you spoke to him or even smiled in his direction, they would brighten, casting more light into the dim cave. At first, you assumed it was a natural response to his emotions—perhaps a way for his kind to communicate. But then came the sounds. He chirped. He hummed. He made these low, rumbling noises deep in his chest that reverberated through the cave walls. 

It was strange—almost endearing. 

One day, after he had brought you a particularly beautiful shell—spiralled and iridescent—you smiled at him, running your fingers over its smooth surface. “It’s beautiful,” you said softly. “Thank you.”

The leviathan’s face lit up, his freckles flaring into an almost blinding brightness as he chirped happily. You chuckled, placing the shell in the small pile of treasures you had started keeping at your side. 

“Do you have a name?” you asked him, curious if he could understand more complex language. “I mean… what should I call you?”

He blinked, his head tilting slightly. “Name…?” His voice was still halting, but he was getting better, and more confident with his words. “No… name.”

“Hmm.” You bit your lip, thinking. “Maybe I’ll give you one, then.”

His eyes widened slightly, glowing with interest.

You tapped a finger against your chin, trying to come up with something that suited him. Something powerful, but also kind. “How about... Kai? It means sea in a few languages.”

“Kai…” he repeated as if testing the word. Then, his face broke into a small smile, the glowing freckles on his cheeks pulsing rhythmically. “Kai… like.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Good. Kai it is.”

The days continued like this, with him bringing you more gifts and making those strange chirping noises whenever you accepted them. Sometimes he would linger nearby, watching you with a strange intensity that should have been unnerving but wasn’t. It was almost… sweet. 

One evening, after he had brought you a particularly smooth stone—a dark, deep blue colour—you held it up to the faint light. “You have quite the eye for pretty things,” you said teasingly, glancing at him. His golden eyes glinted, and he made that low, rumbling hum again, the sound resonating in your chest.

You didn’t know when it started to happen, but somewhere along the way, you had stopped seeing him as just a creature of the deep. There was a tenderness in him, a genuine care for your well-being that warmed you in ways you hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just keeping you alive. He was trying to make you happy. And it was working. 

You caught yourself watching him more often—how his muscles shifted beneath his dark, glistening skin, how his tail curled and flicked in the water when he was excited, how his glowing freckles pulsed in response to your laughter. And when he brought you something new, when he chirped at you or hummed softly, it made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear. 

---

Kai didn’t fully understand it at first, but something had changed between the two of you. He could feel it. Every time you smiled at him or touched the gifts he brought you, something warm and bright filled his chest. It was more than happiness. It was... connection.

He had been practising the small rituals of his kind for days now, bringing you things he knew you would like—rocks, shells, even bones from deep within the sea. He had hoped you would understand what he was doing, even if it wasn’t something humans were used to. And when you accepted his gifts, when you smiled at him and thanked him, he felt like he was glowing from within. You were accepting him.

The colours in his bioluminescent freckles had grown brighter each day, especially when you were near. He could feel his body reacting to you—flashing brighter, chirping louder, humming more frequently. He had started making these sounds almost unconsciously, his excitement and affection bubbling up every time he was near you.

And then there was the moment when you said his name. Kai. A human name, but it fits. You had given him something special, something to define himself beyond just a creature of the deep. He had felt it then—an overwhelming urge to be closer to you, to protect you, to make you his.

---

You hadn’t realised it until later, but you had unknowingly been accepting his courting rituals. The smooth rocks, the shells, the soft chirping sounds—all of it had been Kai’s way of showing affection, of trying to bond with you. And you had accepted it with open arms, without even realising the significance of what you were doing.

One night, as you sat by the water’s edge, Kai was closer than usual, his large body half-submerged in the water. His golden eyes were fixed on you, his freckles glowing softly. You noticed how close he was, and how his massive form took up most of the space in the cave. But instead of feeling intimidated, you felt… comforted.

He chirped softly, his tail flicking in the water. "You… like?” he asked, his English much clearer now.

You glanced down at the latest gift he had given you—a perfectly polished piece of coral—and smiled. “I do. Thank you, Kai.”

His glowing freckles flared again, and the rumbling sound in his chest grew louder, more persistent. He was... happy. You could feel it radiating from him.

Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm where the scales were smoothest. His body tensed momentarily, his eyes widening as he looked at where your hand rested. But then, he relaxed, a soft, pleased chirp escaping him.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you stopped seeing him as just a sea creature somewhere along the way. It was Kai. He was awkward and endearing, and despite your vast differences, he made you feel safe. 

And as you looked into his glowing eyes, your heart beat faster in your chest. You had grown fond of him—maybe even more than fond. 

Kai’s tail flicked in the water, and he shifted closer, his face just inches from yours. His freckles glowed brighter, casting the cave in a warm, ethereal light. “Pretty… girl,” he murmured, the words filled with a strange kind of awe.

You smiled, your hand still resting against his arm. "And you're not so bad yourself."

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the sound of the ocean filling the space between you. But something had changed. There was a new understanding, a new bond. You weren’t just surviving together. You were connected.

And from the way Kai’s eyes shone, you could tell he felt it too.

As the soft light from Kai’s freckles pulsed gently around you, you felt his large form shift beside you. Before you could react, he lowered his head, nuzzling it under your chin with surprising tenderness. His skin was cool and smooth, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, though not from fear. You hesitated, then let your hand drift to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the strange but silky strands of his dark hair.

A low, content hum rumbled from him, vibrating against your chest. He was close—closer than he’d ever been before. The warmth of his presence, the gentle weight of his nuzzle, made your heart race, and yet... it felt right. 

“Have… pups,” Kai murmured, his voice halting but filled with sincerity. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as his words slowly registered. “My… pups.”

It was then that everything clicked into place. The gifts, the soft chirping, the glowing freckles, his constant presence. This wasn’t just him being kind. This was more. **He loved you.**

Your heart pounded in your chest as you pulled back slightly, looking down at him in stunned realization. His eyes, glowing softly, blinked up at you with that same innocence and intensity. He wasn’t just a protector—he saw you as his mate. 

And somewhere deep inside, you realized that you didn’t mind the thought.

You stared down at Kai, your fingers still resting gently on his head as he gazed up at you, unaware of the weight of his words. His eyes were wide and expectant, as if waiting for your reaction. The warmth that had been building in your chest bloomed fully, but it was accompanied by a nervous flutter in your stomach.

"Pups," you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. The idea, once foreign and unthinkable, now seemed… less strange. It wasn’t just the word—it was the meaning behind it. The way Kai had said it, with such sincerity and hope, like he couldn’t imagine anything more important. The realization that this ancient, powerful being cared for you in ways you hadn’t even understood until now.

Kai’s tail flicked in the water, splashing lightly as he nuzzled you again, this time more insistently. “Yes… pups,” he repeated softly, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through you. He shifted even closer, his large frame curling around yours protectively. “You… mine.”

Your breath hitched at his declaration. The weight of what he was saying—what he felt—was starting to sink in. Kai wasn’t just offering you protection or companionship. He wanted more. He wanted to build a life with you, in whatever form that took. To him, it seemed so simple. But to you, the complexity of the situation was dizzying.

Could you feel the same way about him? Could you be with someone so vastly different, someone from a world so far removed from your own?

But as you looked into his eyes, glowing softly with that bioluminescent warmth, you realized that you already had. The time spent together in the cave, the strange courtship rituals, the quiet moments of connection—they had already won you over. You had grown attached to him, maybe even fallen in love without realizing it. And now, faced with his earnest desire, it was impossible to ignore.

“Kai,” you murmured, brushing your thumb gently over the side of his face. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

His head tilted, eyes blinking as though he didn’t quite understand why you would question it. “Mean… yes. You mine. We… together. Have… pups.”

You think for a few seconds “how…how would we..?”

His hand pushes against your thigh, twitching hard, which has your eyebrows pulling tight. You go pale when you look down. What you assumed to be his hand was something else completely, moving around against your thigh with a sticky sheen being rubbed on the skin of you hip like he’s grinding his double dicks against you. His tail is heavy enough to keep you in place under him, and his crawled hand is slid along your side while he purrs pathetically, looking up at you with sweet begging eyes “Oh, fuck,” you mouth, “oh fuck.” Trying to slip out from under him makes him let out a soft growl, mouth corners lifting to show his canines.

“I-i dont think i can take them..both” you gulp.

He doesn't seem to notice, all he desires is your affection, Kai brings his fingers up interlacing around your chin. Under the night sky, his body lights up, the shimmering blue lights on his skin and tail accentuating your own vulnerability. He offers you a smile, his deep brown eyes sparkling with longing in the soft glow of the moon. Your lips meet. You trace your fingers along his chest and stomach. A glimpse of his form emerges from his opening, and you can't help but smile as you circle his protruding tip. He sighs your name into your mouth, the sensation akin to the gentle ebb and flow of the sea against the rocks. Gradually, he slips his entire cock into your hands grasp, and you caress his length with gentle strokes. He recoils slightly, his head resting back, his scales reflecting the moon's light. Firmly holding you, he rolls you onto your stomach. You grin up at him, extending your hand to gently sweep away a few droplets from his face. He returns the smile. Leaning back, you spread your legs and clasp onto his hips, taking a deep breath as he positions himself for an intimate moment. Your moans fill the night as he fucks you with a rhythm reminiscent of the ocean's waves.

[daycourtofficial]

Hazelnut Latte pweaseies 🥺 need me some cute baby princess hestia 🥺 (mayhaps a smidgen of pumpkin spice will weave its way through in the most girl dad of girl dad flavours)

Furthering the horse girl Eris agenda ��� it’s canon to me that Hestia enjoys horseback riding the most and goes out with Eris riding frequently

Order a coffee for Gingerfucker week here

Also shoutout to @lady-of-tearshed for her horse knowledge 🫡

“I can’t do it - she hates me.” Her red hair glistened in the sun as she turned away from Eris, his daughter unhappy with being forced to do anything.

Hestia was a sweet girl, a mischievous glint in her eye that was damn near permanent. As sweet as she was, she was also both hardheaded and stubborn, traits she was now using to get out of horseback riding lessons.

“The horse does not hate you, Hestia. You haven’t even touched her.”

“I see it in her eyes. I can feel her hatred. She wants to eat me.”

His youngest sized up the mare, a fell pony with a coat so black it would blend in with the hair of Hestia’s twin.

Hestia was about to turn nine, a fact Eris detested every day they inched closer to her birthday. He missed having tiny toddlers running around, but he found endless purpose being able to watch them grow up and away from him, into their own lives. He enjoyed watching them become less of an extension of himself and more of their own person.

It was a part of parenting he didn’t expect to enjoy nearly as much as he did. As they grew older, he prioritized nurturing their own interests with a healthy mix of other knowledge he deemed necessary. For instance, Aster was much more inclined to tolerate math lessons if allowed to spend time pouring over history lessons.

The only person around Hestia who could say no to her was her own mother.

Hestia was the last of his children to learn how to mount a horse, something she had refused to do for the past two years. Eris had finally put his foot down, insistent she learn before she turned nine. Her brothers had already been riding for several years, but Hestia had been too afraid to try. It was a topic of endless argument between Eris and the two females he lived with - one determined not to partake in lessons, the other determined to for Eris’s hand.

He had planned it for no room for discussion, the end of breakfast seeing him practically dragging Hestia out to the back stables to grab the pony.

The pair had to bypass Eris’s own favored steed, Cameron, to find the pony, a fact not forgotten by him as Cameron was dramatically whinnying from the other side of the field. He had brought out Emma, a sweet pony who loved when his sons rode her around the field. After grooming her, Eris had checked her hooves, content at not finding any rocks stuck.

Hestia’s violet eyes looked up at him, the twinkle of fear in them tugging on his heart strings.

“Hestia, we’re not leaving until you get on the horse. You won’t be hurt, I promise.”

“Promise?”

Eris sighed. “I promise if this pony tries to hurt you, she’ll become dinner.”

“Daddy! You can’t kill the pony.”

“I certainly can if the pony hurts you.”

“Can I kill things that hurt you?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hestia was a physical illusion, a trick of the eye. She looked just like Eris until she wanted something, her pouty lips turning her into her mother.

“How about we wait until you’re older before we begin discussing murder, hm? For now, get on the pony.” She looked at him, Eris quickly rushing to add, “please.”

Somehow his words worked, Hestia moving beside the horse until Eris held his hands out, helping her get her footing to reach the stirrup.

“One hand on the reins.” Hestia followed his instruction, her hand clutched tight to the reins, waiting for more. “Other on the pommel.” She listened, her hands holding the leather tight.

“Now, relax your legs. You want them firm, but you don’t want to confuse her.” She gave him a confused face, causing him to take a breath and simplify.

“Look forward. Keep your heels down.”

“You’re telling me too much.” Her voice came out like a whine, like she was much younger.

“Okay.” Eris held his hands up, taking his place in front of the pony. “Just look at me, Tia. Daddy’s got you.”

Hestia nodded, still unsure, but Eris grabbed the reins and the horse moved forward slowly, her steps mirroring Eris’s as he moved backward. Hestia kept her eyes on Eris, not looking away from him for one second.

Eris guided Emma in a full circle following the fence, her walk slow but comforting to Hestia.

“You’re doing it.”

Hestia kept repeating what she was told to do: eyes forward, heels down, relaxed legs. Over and over the words tossed and turned in her mind.

“I’m doing it, daddy.”

The two beamed at each other, pride pouring from every inch of their matching faces.

[reds-writings]

turned tables

(rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: lil jj (sorta) blurb based off the scene of the double date rust has with marty and maggie. reader gets to be a little jelly now! a smidgen of spice up ahead! minors get out of here!

It was a dumb idea to entertain this whole double-...well more so triple date idea Marty and Maggie had initiated out of the blue. The haze of alcohol and slight sting of jealousy that had blanketed themselves over you for the night was proof of the fact. You hadn’t planned on being the awkward fifth wheel but with a friend of a friend cancelling on you last minute you had no choice but to fly solo. Marty had been quite tickled to find a girl for Rust whom he could maybe blow some steam with but you knew better that his efforts would likely be less than fruitful. 

She was rather gorgeous though and it was no secret she found Rust plenty enticing. You felt selfish hoping the same couldn’t be said for him. This whole outing had reduced you down to feeling like that of an insecure adolescent girl. Comparing every little detail and trait between the two of you in some imaginary competition of who was likely to come out on top for Rust’s token of interest or affection. It wasn’t like you to be like this at all!

Sighing, you lifted the beer you had snuck outside to your lips as you leaned against the side of the bar’s building. There were maybe a few others scattered around who were out here to escape the liveliness going on inside but other than that it was just you playing the part of the lonesome wallflower who needed to have herself a good old fashioned pout over a certain Texan. 

If this is what he had felt like nights ago then it was no wonder why he was so moody and embarrassed at the time. 

The familiar scratching flick of a lighter going off caught your attention but you remained in place as to remain casual and unaware. 

“You gonna stand out here all night like somebody just shit in your lap or come back inside?” Rust’s deep twang rang out around his freshly lit cigarette. He could read just about anybody like a damn book and you sure were no exception in this given moment. You’d hate to think he was perhaps getting a kick out of the parallels between the way you were behaving and recent scenarios that had occurred. 

“Naw, just bored s’ all. Was probably gonna head out soon. Don’t feel like playin’ the sad sack much longer in front of y’all.” When Rust and his date were out on that floor dancing you knew you had probably never looked more pathetic in your life than you had then. Sitting there staring out like some pathetic yearning lover. How weak. You just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep away the ugliness of envy that grappled at your being.

In a more rational mindset, you’d be more willing to accept that none of this had to necessarily mean anything. Rust was just entertaining Marty and Maggie so that there’d be no suspicion curling around what was going on between you two. There was no need for the heat of speculation like that on your backs. Especially not now. 

“Sad sack’s a name for it.” He ambled on closer, the amalgamation of cigarettes, beer, and a cologne you’d have to figure out the name of was all encompassing, making you weaker in the knees by the minute. Knowing him through that brief moment of intimacy you’d had was enough to have you hooked for just about forever. The way in which his mere presence had you secretly falling apart increasingly more as time went on was going to be a problem no doubt. You were wrapped around each other’s fingers in your own unique ways but it didn’t mean you particularly had to like it.

Before you could take a swig from your bottle once more, his calloused hand came up to your jaw to direct your bleary eyes towards his. His expression was one of growing mirth and you almost wanted to scoff.

“This ain’t all that funny.” You rolled your eyes, mouth twisted in a small scowl. 

“Says you, maybe.” 

“Quit lookin’ at me like that, smartass.” 

“Which would be?”

“Like you wanna rib me some more or eat me alive. Can’t be both.”

“Who says, hm?”

“Says me. Can see it plain as day on that stupid mug of yours. You think it’s funny that I’m jealous but let me make it clear that I am nothin’ of the sort-” Your slightly slurred tangent was interrupted by those damned lips of his. Your whole body could’ve blinded the whole parking lot with how much his touch set you alight. It was hot, maybe a little sloppy, as the embrace became all the more heated with every swipe of his mouth and tongue. There was an undeniable thrill to being out here where anybody could see. It was like you were on borrowed time before somebody ought to come searching for you both. 

A low moan tore from your throat as one hand nearly covered the entire surface area of the back of your head to bring you closer as if it were any more possible and the other glided down to palm at the curve of your ass. His responding hum at the contact vibrated throughout your body as your chests stayed closely pressed together, making the growing heat spreading to your thighs kick up a notch or two. How couldn’t you get jealous over someone having a shot at this? 

The sound of the bar’s entrance swinging open had the two of you jumping apart in a flash, eyes glossed over and lips scandalously swollen. Luckily, whoever had just exited was no one you knew. Chests heaving, you gave each other a mutually prolonged once-over before you finally managed to pull yourself from his grip. 

“Next time…give Marty a big fat no.” Was all you said before starting to back away toward your car. Despite the man’s raw, hungry gaze he huffed something resembling a dry laugh. The comedown of the moment had his heart aching for a reason he couldn’t yet decipher. With that love-bit smile stretched wide on your lips and the way you looked at him in that certain way you do had him pushing back any impending thoughts that he could torture himself with later.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Sex Bot Au Mixup

Requested: Yes! [Sex bot au but the person who purchased the bot bought it as a companion, unaware it was actually sex robot and gets extremely flustered?]

Warnings: ✨Spice✨

A simple mistake. You were already nervous enough spending so much money on something, not to mention the overwhelming embarrassment of resorting to buying a friend when making them seemed to fail. It was only natural that you didn’t read through everything properly, that you skipped over some parts as you rushed to make your purchase before you could second guess yourself.

But then the delivery truck came and you saw the right red stamps all over, the words “sex bot” making you extremely confused and flustered as the truck driver insisted on you signing, despite you attempting to reason with him.

Gaz

Gaz is….disappointed that you seem to avoid him, always growing flustered at how he touches you. His hands on your thighs, your waist, your lower back. He likes to touch you but you always grow tense, embarrassed by his easy and not so platonic affections. He’s almost pouty everytime it happens, and he wants to chase after you, continue to touch you, but he knows that would just drive you further away. So he steps back, and patiently waits for you to come to him, overjoyed at even the tiniest of attention, such as linking pinkies or a brush of hands. He hopes one day he can help you conquer your shyness because he….he’s going just a little bit insane with the low contact.

Ghost

Ghost is confused by your reluctance to be around him, the way you fluster and seem to shy away from him everytime he so much as tries to touch your cheek. Part of him is grateful that you don’t seem to want to just fuck, but he’s also a little….saddened by the fact. He finds he likes you, perhaps more than he should. He wants to hold you, keep you close, delve inside you and see just how shy you get when you’re speared open on his cock. It’s frustrating to say the least, especially for someone who didn’t think he was capable of feeling like this. He wasn’t programmed for desire but he felt it anyways, for you and you alone. And it was driving him insane.

König

König is all kinds of relieved that you appear to be just as anxious and easily flustered as him. He’s more than happy to be slow with you, take his time learning about you and have the both of you warm up to each other. That being said, even König has his limits. And if you, somehow, manage to continue being just as easily flustered then there might be a smidgen of a problem. Because König is going absolutely insane over you, practically foaming at the mouth every time you let him hold your hand or just basically any type of affectionate touch. And he feels so guilty about how he pumps his cock to the thought of your embarrassed expression, the same one you made when he kissed your cheek one day. That face, the feel of your skin under his lips, the way you clearly thought about it all day just from how you curled in on yourself just at the sight of him.

Alejandro

This is gonna be hell for you. I’m saying it now. Alejandro is all kinds of smooth with the addition of being flirty enough to make the Devil blush. He’s constantly on you, your flustered and shy demeanor only driving him further, whispering the most suggestive things in your ear as he rubs his hands along your sides. The worst part? He’s holding back. He never tells you the filthiest parts of his imagination or lets his touch wander too far, constantly leaving you on edge. He’s teasing you and somehow also teasing himself. Holding back doesn’t come easy to him and he struggles to not push you too far, slowly losing his grip on himself everytime you accidentally whimper or softly moan. Whether it be from his touch or anything else. He’s constantly like 🤏 this close to just hauling you up onto the nearest surface and having his way with you.

[earthry]

hello glad you are back :3 could I request hcs for going to a fancy ball w papa? ty ilysm 💓

Thank you so much! I had lots of fun with this, please enjoy! I imagine this to be somewhat of a Regency Era AU <3

sfw but a smidgen of spice at secondo's part, fluff, regency era-ish

Primo

Balls aren't usually his thing-- not anymore, at least. Maybe when he was younger but now in age, he's been and seen hundreds to the point that a fancy ball is just another fancy ball to him.

For you however, they are novelty and a wonder. Something sparkly, something new, something to be excited about and look forwards to. And fuck if that's not cute and incredibly endearing to see. Once you enter his life, he'll never ever voice boredom or disinterest for balls ever again.

Actually, you make him interested in balls again-- if not only to see you at the center of attention, beaming his way.

He's the type to sip at his wine while he watches you have the time of your life across the room-- he doesn't see any point in socializing himself, but if you urge him to, he'll mingle for a little while.

After the ball, he'll escort you home and ask if you had a good time-- the answer is always yes. He'll kiss you goodnight, sweet and gentle under the crescent moon that leaves the both of you breathless, before bidding you a farewell until the morning.

"I'll see you in the morning, tesoro. I'll dream sweetly of you tonight."

Secondo

Spares no expenses on you-- whether it be accessories, makeup, outfits, you name it-- he'll get it for you. What's the use of money if he can't frivolously spend it on the people he loves?

Whether it be a ball gown or a suit, everything you wear is perfectly tailored to your form. If you get a dress or skirt, it has pockets!

An expert at the social game at balls, always knows what to say and exactly how to say it. His presence is most coveted and he'll almost always have an invitation to even the most exclusive of balls.

You'll always be his plus one-- there's never a doubt. Unless you have no interest in attending, you can practically consider an invitation to him as an invitation to you. However, you needn't worry because plenty of invitations of your own will come your way because others know that if you attend, he surely will as well. Never one without the other.

Protective; if he has business or other things to attend to at a ball, one or more of his ghouls will always be nearby to make sure nothing happens to you. This is with your consent of course. If you don't feel comfortable with it, he'll at the very least make sure you're equipped and armed with your own personal dagger concealed in your sleeve or somewhere on your person.

As is proper, he'll always make sure to personally escort you home. The kiss you share before you depart is deep and meaningful-- but no less dirty or charged. Pulling you into his lap and claiming your lips with his, he'll roll his hips up to meet yours just to hear the little hitch in your breath. It's usually a game between the two of you; who can get the other more worked up by the time it's time to say goodbye. Most of the time he wins, smirking as you let out a soft little whimper when the carriage finally stops in front of your estate. He'll give you one last kiss before huskily bidding you adeiu.

"Time to leave, amore mio. Think of me tonight, si?"

Terzo

This man definitely 'pre-games' before the ball-- manicures and facials and any type of beauty self-care under the sun. It's a whole spa day the day of the ball, he shows up at your doorstep and kisses the back of your hand before whisking you off to get absolutely pampered.

The two of you have matching outfits probably, the same theme or color or style. You're both the center of attention at balls, charming the ladies and men. Terzo usually keeps a possessive arm around your waist, leaning in close to gossip or whisper some kind of comment that only you have the luxury of being privy to.

Terzo is ever so attentive to you and your needs during balls-- always checking in for your comfort, asking if you need a drink or snack, making sure you know that the two of you can leave at any time you want.

Despite what a flirt this man is, he'll only ever have eyes for you and anyone with eyes can see that. He's a little bit of a prima donna and likes having your attention on him-- but he'll give you your space if you request it.

Whenever there's dancing involved, the two of you always captivate onlookers. The way he twirls you (or vice versa if you prefer leading), the looks the two of you exchange as your bodies move in tandem to the music. When the two of you take to the dance floor, usually it becomes just the two of you, as others will stop just to watch.

Dropping you back home after the party is Terzo's least favorite part-- because he has to say goodbye to his most beloved. You'll spend at least twenty more minutes down the block from your estate just to make out in the carriage until one of the coachmen impatiently interrupts and asks if you're ready to go. With one last parting kiss, Terzo will see you off with a promise to call on you again in the morning.

"Till tomorrow, beloved. Don't miss me too much, bene?"

Copia

The two of you are anxious beans that find comfort and company in each other at social functions and especially balls. You'll always have an eye out for him and him, you. Eventually, you'll just start attending balls and other events together.

The first time you meet, he's hiding in host's library-- the very same place you had decided to hide in as well. You bump into each other what starts as profuse apologies from each side blooms into a long lasting friendship and companionship.

The day he asks you to come with him as his official plus one, his date, you can't stop smiling which flusters him and makes him bashfully but oh so insanely happy.

After a while, balls become a favorite to the two of you because it would always be full of shenanigans and fun. The two of you together and loitering by the refreshments table and stuffing yourselves full of snacks, giggling to yourselves as you chat and peek into his pocket to see that he's smuggled a rat friend in, touring the gardens outside where it's less crowded and hold hands until you inevitably share a kiss under the gazebo by the lake.

When the night comes to a close, he'll see you home with you cuddled at his side on the carriage ride back. Hushed and sweet tones as you decompress together and he'll tell you that he enjoyed every moment he had with you. He'll crack a few jokes that leave the two of you giggling and by the time it's time to leave, you're left with a warm and fuzzy feeling from head to toe. His kiss goodnight promises more in the future; it's soft and resolute. He holds you in his arms afterwards and you sigh contently and bask in the moment before he rests his forehead against yours to say goodbye.

"First thing tomorrow, i'll be outside your window throwing little stones, si? Like uh-- who was that fellow? Row-me-o? Wha- cuore mio, why are you laughing?"

[petermorwood]

Steldene Curd Tart

@dduane's "Food and Cooking of the Middle Kingdoms" is a bit light on sweet dishes, so when we encountered a bag of Lithuanian "tvorog" - cheese curds - in the local supermarket, minds turned to a common historical version of cheesecake, and this is the result.

The basic recipe is a Yorkshire curd tart, of which there are plenty. Foods Of England (website parked, check Archive) has just one example, along with numerous other curd-based dishes.

This has the characteristic Steldene tweak of being a bit spicy, hence the crystallised ginger and a touch of ground chilli. In this case it was Habanero powder, added with great caution. A scant half-smidgen was enough for a pleasing tingle; next time (half the bag of curds remains) I'll add a little more to find out what happens.

What is a smidgen? This is... :->

As always, this chilli addition is meant to enhance the taste, not be some daft macho challenge that ends up in the bin, so start small.

Ingredients

225 g ready-made or home-made shortcrust pastry

50 g butter

50 g caster sugar

1 medium egg, beaten

1/2 tsp mixed spice (include a little ground chilli of your preferred hotness, if desired)

grated zest and juice of 1 lemon

225 g curd cheese, or drained full fat cottage cheese

75 g crystallised ginger, chopped

3 Tbsp milk or cream

Method

Preheat oven to 180°C/160°C fan/350°F. Line a 9 inch/18 cm pie dish with baking paper or grease with butter.

Roll out the pastry on a floured board, and then line the prepared pie dish with the pastry.

Beat the butter and sugar together in a large bowl until it is light and fluffy.

Add the beaten egg, mixed spice, and lemon zest and juice, then mix well.

Add the remaining ingredients, and then spoon the filling into the pastry lined pie dish.

Bake in the middle of the preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the filling has set and is turning golden brown.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool in the pie dish. Serve cut into slices at room temperature.

Note: even when cool the freshly made pie is crumbly; left overnight it gets firmer but will never be as solid as a cream-cheese cheesecake.

If fresh cheese curds, curd cheese or tvorog (look in shops selling Central European groceries) are hard to find, you can use drained full fat cottage cheese instead.

The original "Yorkshire curd tart" recipe called for standard dried fruit such as sultanas, raisins or currants. Chopped crystallised ginger was our adaptation. You can see the bits here, and the rather crumbly nature of the filling.

Crystallised ginger is more sugary than dried fruit, so watch out during baking: you can see where "just nice" was heading for "too much".

It was, however, still "just nice", and there's a lot less curd tart now than when these photos were taken.

It's very good, quite easy, even easier with store-bought pastry, and we're definitely going to make it again.

[vagabond-umlaut]

pumpkin spiced metal

You like your men like you like your coffee. Dark. Robust. Steamy. Not the best for your health. The very worst for your heart, for sure.

▸ wrestler!Toji x baker!Reader; Historical AU; Pre-Relationship; Tons of Fluff; Teasing Banter; It's Toji so obviously there'll be mentions of attacks, fights, injuries [Reader is 100% unharmed, dw!! :))]; Reader's fearless nature is something I can do anything to have; Toji & Reader Are Into Each Other And Both of Them Low-Key Know This [they are not idiots but smart, for once, your honor]; Reader Has She/Her Pronouns; There is one tiny [or four tiny] mention(s) of Gojo here HEHE

▸ This belongs to the same Historical JJK AU as the knight Nanami x lady-in-waiting Reader fic parterre but you don't need to read that to read this!! This is a stand-alone!! 😊😊

▸ based on the ask sent by @ancient-vivarium for my milestone event. TYYY SMMM FRELLIE!! 🥰🥰🤗😘 i don't own the characters, image or divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"Coffee wakes one up better than fights, y'know?"

A dagger grazing the shell of your ear before flying into the wall is the very last thing you could have expected your off-handed comment to ever receive; yet, now, on seeing the receiver of your query, you deem you're lucky enough your beloved ear wasn't cut off your beloved face by that wretched dagger.

Fingers gripping your mug more firmly, you heave a heavy sigh— only to click your tongue in the very next instant. Flipping the sign on your bakery's door back to 'closed', you sit down on the steps and make an awkward gesture for this sudden visitor to take the seat beside yours.

A moment passes. And just when you think this person will simply be standing with half of his hulky persona in light and the remaining in a darkness, he shuffles forwards to plop down onto the seat proffered.

You shove the glee curving your lips behind the ceramic of your mug.

Toji throws you a horribly incensed glare from where he's slouched on the stair. "Ya find this shit funny, eh? I can still kill ya if I wanna. These injuries don't mean anything— 'm tellin' ya."

"Mmhm," you nod your agreement quickly, biting your cheek once to keep them blasted giggles within yourself. "I know you can– wrestler and rumored assassin Toji. I'm very well aware you can; but don't you think it's a bit funny— someone as strong and scary as you sharing a cup of coffee with someone akin me? If you aren't you, won't you find this slightly funny, hm? I bet you will, you know."

Your confident remark earns a furrowed glance from your companion before he sighs, dragging a palm down his so weary face then curling it into a fist to rest his cheek on. You shoot him a quizzical look— only for it to bounce right off him, as he closes his eyes, and gives another exhausted sigh.

The sight twists your heart in a way, pretty weird but not unpleasant, you decide.

A hazy yet sharp eye blinking open to watch you, Toji grumbles, "Was attacked by several men some time back on my way to the grounds... of course, I beat them up to a pulp so much, not even their family can tell them apart now; but everything happened so out of the blue—"

"You don't need to explain anything anymore. I understand where the sudden knife attack came from," you cut him off gently, keeping your cup on the ground beside and moving to rub a soothing thumb on an awfully deep scar on the underside of his palm. The muscles beneath your ministrations tense a little, before relaxing a smidgen— you hear a quiet huff of a laugh from the man next to you.

You drag your eyes away from the scars on his hands to that on his lip before lifting them to meet his deep, dark gaze. A smirking glint stays there to greet your inquiring gaze.

Toji asks, "Aren't ya scared of being alone with someone rumoured to have killed half of the Zenin clan, eh, girl? People say the man in front of you once attempted to finish off that blue-eyed brat too once... Did ya not know that?"

You do. The thing is, you do.

You do know each and every one of those rumors. Silly or not. Weird or not. Being the most popular baker in the royal kingdom has made you the unwilling listener to these rumours and so many, many more.

[Just the other day, you heard one lady screech to the other, how she spotted the princess winking— yes, winking— at Lord Gojo. The next day, you saw Her Highness in your bakery, kicking the same Lord and calling him names– no sane lady would ever dream of calling the man they fancy.]

[The princess is not very sane, you know this too. But you choose not to dwell on it too much.] [You value your neck very much, thank you!!]

You shrug after two seconds worth consideration.

"Those Zenin's deserve to be killed, if I'm being very honest here. And as for the matter pertaining to Lord Gojo..." you trail off, before giving your second shrug of the minute and resuming, "I noticed you and he conversing in the marketplace the other day, so I suppose– whatever happened, if anything at all, is all in the past. Also, it's for the best if I don't interfere in others' business, y'know? I've a not-very-tiny one of my own to manage, which is no easy feat, if I must admit— but, yeah. No matter what your reputation is, I don't really mind you here. You've the signs of being a nice company."

An oddly piercing gaze is the only respone your lengthy reply receives— or so you think before Toji cracks a barely-there smile at you, rising from his seat and extending a hand towards you.

It's not the etiquette, some part of your mind tsks. You shut it down in less than an instant. Etiquettes are shit stuff meant for those of noble blood. You and Toji aren't so— at least, not this very second in the soft light of the day, breaking through the cloak of the yesternight— those etiquettes can be easily forgotten by you two. For now.

Forever as well. Perhaps.

You too rise, placing your palm in his outstretched one. And shoot a wide smile when he squeezes your hand and queries, "Ya sure won't mind making an extra cup of coffee for every morning from now on, yeah?"

Enjoying the pitter-patter in the middle of your chest, you shake your head, chuckling. "Heavens, no. If anything, I'll be the happiest to drag another person into my coffee-worshipping cult."

Especially if that someone is as alluring as the one before you— with a crooked grin, a tad bloody and very much feral– but you decide not to mention it– choosing to keep it close to your heart till the time Toji too grows nearer to your heart.

[Which, you reckon, will happen soon, if the pinkish hue of his ears and the moisture on his palm are what you hope suppose they are.]

▸ masterlist

[sailtomarina]

They think we're in love

The incident started with whispers.

Whispers of curiosity, whispers of jealousy, whispers of hope.

“Do you think they’re together?”

“There’s no way they aren’t shagging.”

“Hate is just the flip side of love.”

Hermione slid her eyes towards her coworker, barely stifling the upward curl of her lips as the stares and murmurs continued. He flicked an amused glance back, the soft weight of his palm coming to a rest at the small of her back, ushering her forward in line.

“How much longer do you want to keep this up?”

She could barely hear his question over the noise in the atrium where they waited to order their afternoon pick-me-up. The heat of his touch permeated the back of her sweater in pleasurable waves.

“I don’t mind having fun for just a bit longer.” She didn’t want their charade to stop. 

“I’m pretty sure they think we’re in love.”

‘They’ in this instance didn’t refer to the gossip surrounding them, but to their would-be partners, family members, and friends.

“Then we make sure they know it and give up on us.” The words had barely left her mouth before she twisted around to face him, winding one hand into his platinum locks, the other pressed firmly against his chest, fingers twisting at the buttons.

Draco’s eyes widened at her proximity even as his face naturally lowered towards hers. They hadn’t kissed in all their weeks of pretending, sticking to suggestive touches and joint appearances. The dark spice of her perfume grabbed at him now, usually only a hint at an appropriate distance.

She hesitated a hair’s breadth away, eyes seeking permission.

He gave it to her, closing the sliver of space between them and drinking her in for the first time. This kiss, or this pretend kiss, whatever it was, had none of the awkwardness of so many other kisses, first or otherwise. Heads tilted just so, lips parted, tastes were taken in languid ease, every part as real as the arms winding around her back or the nails scraping the back of his head. 

Draco was drowning in a sea of Hermione, inhaling deeply in need of air but finding only more silken heat and pressure he now desperately craved. The ambrosia surrounded and filled him, buoying him to heights from which he never wanted to fall.

“Sir? Miss?”

The timid call of attention dragged them out of the vortex, and they turned as a unit to stare at the barista twisting nervously at the towel tucked into his apron. Draco turned back to the lips he wished he had never left, expecting her face to be flush with embarrassment. Instead, her swollen lips had turned up into a glittering smile that did not meet her eyes.

“Taylor?”

“Yes, miss?”

“If you plan to continue working here for the foreseeable future, it would be in your best interest to know when and when not to interrupt your customers. Seeing us preoccupied, you could have called forward the customer behind us. Instead, you chose to pull me out of the best snog of my life and I am half tempted to vanish your entire cart and go find my beverage from someone with even a smidgen more awareness.”

Draco agreed with her, but also took pity on the trembling man. “Love, you know Taylor makes your drinks exactly the way you crave. We shouldn’t have gotten in line if we were going to hold everyone up the way we are.”

Salazar, even the way her brow furrowed and eyes sparked was adorable. She’d light him on fire for such thoughts. He tightened his hold on her when she tried to pull away, never removing his eyes from hers as he continued speaking, “We’ll have our usual along with our apologies. You can charge them both to my account.”

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. And I am sorry, Miss Granger. One small flat white and one large dirty chai coming right up.”

“Malfoy—”

Draco cut her off with a swift tug to the side to allow the next person in line to move forward. He kept his voice low in her ear, continuing to hug her close. “This isn’t really the place for it, but I’m honestly tired of playing.”

She blanched at the confession. Hermione had thought their kiss was the sign of something more, something worth pursuing. She sure as hell knew she’d never felt that way before and instinct told her such discoveries were rare. His confession meant her feelings were one-sided, and the realization was unbearable.

“I…I…” For all she had ripped poor Taylor apart, now her words failed her like they almost never did.

“I want the real thing.”

It was as if they were under water again, the five simple words echoing through her mind distorted and in slow motion. I want the real thing. The real thing. Real.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Hermione shuddered at the heat of his breath ghosting her neck. She repeated his question to herself. What did she want?

“I..want…”

What happened next was both unsurprising given earlier threats and completely shocking.

“Malfoy! Granger!” Taylor called out their names sharply as he slid their drinks onto the takeout counter.

Seeing the look on her face, Draco tried to stop the impossible. “Wait, Granger, the drinks—” His arms dropped and he reached for the cups in vain.

One moment, the cart was there. The next, it was gone, leaving only a bewildered barista and an atrium of caffeine-deprived Ministry employees. Hermione breathed heavily with her wand brandished in a stance that would picture beautifully in the report to follow. Her curls waved uncontrollably around her shoulders in clear agitation. The image also perfectly captured Draco at her side, frozen mid-reach towards emptiness.

Nobody doubted their love anymore, even if their impulsive kiss was overshadowed by what became known as the Granger Coffee Incident. Future drinks from the atrium were purchased solely by Draco, who earned himself back into Taylor’s good graces with a complete upgrade of the previous cart, complete with updated tables and seating. The older man, however, did not lift the two-year order ban placed on Hermione Granger.

WC 1038 I wrote this over the course of two days, losing steam at the end of each session. I’m still not quite happy with the ending, but it’s time to move on!

[ooffmlsorry]

100 Followers Thank You: Holiday/Winter Prompt Event!

I've had this blog for a little over a month and I've already reached 100 followers!? I didn't think that would happen so fast, if at all. I'm shocked!! And grateful!!

I've had a lot of fun here so far, I mean like...not to out myself as having "no life" but reblogging stuff and writing my own posts have been such a life saver!! Having stuff to read and work on has done wonders for my mental health and if I can give that back a little I'd love to! Plus my December is a lot quieter than I expected, I'm not working nearly as many days this month as I usually am so I thought why not offer to write prompts?

Rules:

I will only be writing sfw with a smidgen of spice (e.g. suggestive thoughts, kissing).

Ask me a prompt followed by the OP character and I'll do my best!!

I'll take prompts until Friday, December 8, 11:59 p.m. (EST) just so if I do get a bunch I won't get terribly overwhelmed. (Haha listen to my fucking ego lol).

Characters I will right for: Law, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Koby

Prompts

"what do you mean you've never decorated a Christmas tree..."

"you think you have it bad? i got [name] for secret santa. [name]!!

"hurry, 'x' is on!!"

"mistletoe? how corny..."

"the lights are so pretty..."

"be careful up there!! i think your life is more important than some christmas lights..."

"how about a real tree this year..." "isn't that way more work?"

"mmm smells good, what're you making?"

"stop laughing! i want to see you do better."

"do you really still believe in santa?"

"this was always my favorite song..."

"dear GOD just tell me what you want! please!"

"you don't like the gift, do you?"

"i made us hot cocoa!"

"babe, it's snowing!!"

"you're going to make christmas dinner? i'll have 'x' on speed dial."

"that has to be the ugliest sweater i've ever seen"

"it's our first Christmas together.."

"i love this time of year..."

"i hate building gingerbread houses, i can never make them stand!"

"come onn don't be a scrooge!" "what the hell is that?"

"step away from the tree and put the present down."

"oh my god, you didn't..."

"merry christmas, love"

The prompts are taken from this post by @novelbear! These were literally perfect!!

[leebrontide]

Ok, so the problem I keep finding in my perfuming is that I can get oil out of things, but I can't then separate that oil from the water.

So, since I insist on having at least a little perfume for myself, I am gonna do a shortcut method to make me something fast, and figure the rest out later.

Years ago, I put the contents of like 4 bags of Good Earth original blend spiced tea into a small (but not tiny) bottle of triple distilled vodka, and left it alone for a few months before straining it.

The result smelled exactly like my favorite tea, and not really like vodka at all, and had good lasting power. I'd wear it all the time but it is a bit strong and one of my besties is violently allergic to cinnamon, which this has a lot of in it. I still wear it on dates some times.

But I want to make something even more custom, right?

So I think I'm gonna do up a quick and dirty trial of combined elements from my kitchen.

Firstly and mainly cardamom, because why wouldn't I want to smell like high quality cardamom? But also some orange peels, black tea, maybe a pinch of coffee grounds. Might fuck around and add a smidgen of my Demeter "paperback" scent, some ground caraway seeds, and a chip of cedar mulch, just for kicks.

I wanna smell like a fucking elf.

[dr-ultimatum]

Spicing things up just a smidgen, I’m Pigeon!

Howdy hey fangan enjoyers and likewise interesting individuals! You may have noticed some changes on the blog today as the project starts gearing up. I’d like to introduce myself as one of the newest updates.

I’m Pigeon, or Pidge; a project assistant for DR Ultimatum! I’ve mostly done character work so far, but I’m here to help out with everything from background design to team management.

I’ve got a massive Drive file to return to, but as a thanks for welcoming me, Suzu has a little gift for you. Ciao!

-Pidge

[yearningaces]

Ah yes, the typical Yearning character. A dash of powerful creature, a pinch of asexual, a smidgen of wholesome and a fucking pot full of devotion and loyalty(sometimes spiced with blood!)

Look, I've got a favorite meal and the recipe is working wonders for me

[clatterbane]

Oh my. I may be working on my own very literal r/ididnthaveeggs moment here, though I'm not about to start blaming anybody else if the results absolutely suck.

My phone calendar just reminded me again that Mr. C's birthday is, indeed, tomorrow. And I do want to surprise him with a cake again.

Of course, this time I did not plan for that, so it's not going to be even a lazy version of a Swedish berries-and-whipped cream concoction like last year. The best we could do in that department would involve slightly freezerburnt frozen strawberries, and possibly some pudding mix that's been lurking in the cupboard since we moved into this place. I could probably invent something edible with those components, but nah. We kinda need a grocery run or order anyway right now.

Anyway, I thought of this fortuitously timed option, with a rum glaze. Sounds pretty good, and like something he should enjoy well enough.

Only baked as a single small cake, because we don't have cute mini Bundt pans. Also using kefir instead of the smidgen of yogurt, and Scandinavian dark syrup standing in for molasses as usual these days. Both of which should work fine.

Oh yeah, we are also fresh out of eggs. 🤣

I do have some experience with vegan baking. What I do not have much experience with is gluten free eggless baking, and what egg substitutes might work best with the flours I'll be using. Because it does tend to matter.

So yeah, I guess it's some applesauce (which we do have, and should normally work well in a moist spice cake), a little extra butter and baking powder, and some secular version of a prayer. One reason for going for this type of cake is that it should be pretty flexible. At least denser wheaty cakes like this do take well to the applesauce solution, and the added apple flavor could only be good.

Will the texture turn out bizarre? We just don't know! Should taste decent, regardless. At least it shows some effort.

[mishasminion360]

Young Joel Miller x bakerOFC please, do whatever you want with it….

Where’s that Diego Luna dabble btw?? 👀😶‍🌫️

The Sweetest Thing

Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x Baker fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff sweeter than buttercream frosting; one swear word; possibly a smidgen of angst at the end, if you reeeeally think about it.

Summary: All the cakes and pastries aren’t the sweetest thing you encounters in your bakery that day.

A/N: Oh, my sweet anon (and I totally know who you are 😝), thank you for this lovely request. I hope you enjoy the sweet result. P.S. Sorry about that Diego drabble. As you know, life got away from me. Way away.

Men always look so damned sheepish when the step into a bakery. It’s as if unless they have a gal on their arm with a sizable sweet tooth, there’s no good reason for them to be setting foot into such a place. Bakeries are too feminine; sugar and sweets are too girly, pastries are too dainty. Butcher shops? Now, that’s a man’s domain. Blood and guts and meat are manly things.

It’s an outdated belief you thought pop culture phenomena such as “The Great British Bake Off” would have put an end to. Boys wear pants, girls wear dresses. Men go to butchers, women go to bakers.

This guy is dismantling an age old stereotype, but sure looks nervous as hell doing it.

“‘Scuse me,” he drawls, approaching your counter with hands in his pockets. “I’m lookin’ to get a cake.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, partner.”

His brown eyes scan the assortment beneath the glass to the right of the counter. Cakes in all shapes, sizes, and designs.

“Looking for any kind of cake in particular? A certain flavor, I mean.”

“Well, what all have you got?” he asks, turning those eyes—a shade of brown as rich as chocolate ganache—on you.

“Pick your poison. I have the usual suspects—chocolate, vanilla, and marble—or some more adventurous flavors, such as lemon, raspberry, red velvet, banana, orange cream, cinnamon and spice. Et cetera, et cetera, and so on and so forth.”

He purses his lips in an impressed whistle.

“Well, I certainly hope they aren’t poisonous,” he chuckles. “But I’m not picky. What do you recommend?”

“That depends. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s, uh, a birthday,” he mumbles. “Could be the last if I fail to bring a cake home for my daughter. She’ll have my head.”

“Ah, so it’s the little lady’s special day, huh?”

“Actually, it’s mine,” he admits as a pretty pink hue fills his cheeks, as if it mortifies him to confess to turning another year older. “But the cake is mostly for my kid’s sake. I’m on a diet myself.”

“Life is much too short for diets,” you chuckle. “Now tell me, what does your girl like?”

“Well,” he shrugs. “This kid loves her peanut butter.”

“Noted. And what does her dad like?”

“Oh, I don’t….it’s like I said, about that diet and all—“

“And I said life’s too short for such a thing,” you reiterate. “Especially on birthdays. So, what does he like?”

He’s momentarily caught off guard by your abruptness, but it earns you a smile. And boy, it’s a smile you won’t forget anytime soon.

“The old man is partial to chocolate.”

“A gentleman with a taste for the classics. Nothing wrong with being a little old fashioned in the modern age.”

“Just plain old, I think you mean.”

“Not at all, but how old are we talking?”

“36.”

“Not old at all.”

He laughs at that, and you like his laugh just as much as his grin. “Tell that to my bones.”

“I think they heard me,” you say proudly. “I have a very commanding voice.”

“Certainly commanded my attention.”

“Now, I think it was more those flavors I listed that got your attention. Speaking of which.” You withdraw your notepad from your apron and jot down his order. “One peanut butter fudge cake should suit you both nicely.”

“Well, who doesn’t love Reece’s, right?”

You shoot him a look of feigned insult. If you were wearing pearls you’d clutch them for dramatic effect.

“With all due respect, sir, Reece’s is a peddler of cheap, manufactured candy-like substances. I am an artist.”

He clutches his chest in mock dismay. “I do beg your forgiveness, Picasso. I did not mean to offend, and I am humbled to be in the presence of such culinary greatness.”

“Let my cake do the humbling, won’t you?”

“I’d be honored to put ol’ Atkins on the back burner for your masterpiece.”

“That’s quite the compliment.” Now you’re the one blushing. “So, when do you need the Sistine Chapel by?”

“Well, I’m on site until 6. I can probably get here by 6:30. Is that okay?”

Hm. “On site”. Construction, maybe? Hardworking man. Manly man, but not. Man who loves cake. Man who loves his daughter. Ring finger sans ring, you can’t help but notice.

“I typically close at 5, but one of the perks of being the boss is that I can make my own hours. I don’t mind hanging around a bit longer. Especially to fill such an important order.”

“You’re sure?”

“Your kid will kill you if you don’t return with cake, right? I’d hate to hear about that grisly murder on the morning news. And as good as my desserts are they’re nothing to die for.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” he smirks. “I’m expecting to get humbled, remember.”

You agree that the bill will be settled upon his return. He jots his number down on a slip of paper, just in case you have any questions. You only have one and you ask it before he can step through the door.

“If this is a birthday cake then I’m going to give it the birthday flare. So, to whom shall I be wishing a happy 36th?”

He gives you that smile again. “It’s Joel.”

“Happy birthday, Joel.”

“It’s starting to feel like it, yeah.”

“So, 6:30?”

“On the dot. You got my number, so just call if you’ve got any questions.”

“I do this for a living. I think I’ve got it handled.”

“Right. Then….call if you’d like to talk about anything else.”

“Don’t forget about—“ Me, you want to say, but luckily you manage to shut that shit down before you live to regret it. “You’re cake.”

“As if I could,” he assures you, heading out the door. “Nothing short of the end of the world would keep me from coming back.”

And nothing short of the end of the world would prevent you from baking the best cake he’s had in all his 36 years.

And his daughter, too, of course. You hope a little peanut butter fudge will help make this a birthday neither of them would ever forget.

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii @energeticspookyshark @thevoiceinyourheadx @pedr0swh0r3 @anamiad00msday