#zero energy ready home

[mjmayhem]

Roofing Cleveland A gray mixed siding exterior arts and crafts home design example with a shingle roof

[silvabrylee]

Porch in Seattle Ideas for remodeling a sizable coastal side porch with a fireplace and an awning

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

butterfly Howdy... he must be the prettiest girl at the party.... also so so tired

[happyroleplaying]

Deck - Contemporary Deck Deck: A small, modern backyard deck design without a cover

[pyeparr]

Deck - Contemporary Deck Deck: A small, modern backyard deck design without a cover

[ruhele]

Uncovered Deck

Deck: A small, modern backyard deck design without a cover

[forpoetry]

Deck - Contemporary Deck Deck: A small, modern backyard deck design without a cover

[safequeersex]

Modern Dining Room - Kitchen Dining Ideas for a mid-sized, contemporary, light-wood floor kitchen/dining room remodel without a fireplace and with white walls

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

PART ONE

After accidentally causing Reader’s very first orgasm, Anthony does what any gentleman would do: he teaches her how to make it happen again, anytime she likes��� ♥️

In keeping with Bridgerton’s vibe, Reader is a young woman with zero sexual knowledge or experience. I imagine she’s around nineteen or twenty years old and while she has had suitors, none of them have inspired in her the feelings Lord Bridgerton evokes…

Lord Anthony Bridgerton. Six days have passed since your carriage ride together, and instead of making peace with yourself over your embarrassing display in front of him, you now have even more questions than answers.

Firstly, what was that overwhelming rush of feelings you experienced in his carriage? And secondly, why had Lord Bridgerton reacted so calmly while watching you carry on as you did? And thirdly, had he never really intended to call on you, even though he said he would?

In truth, Anthony Bridgerton had been preoccupied with thoughts of you since delivering you home last week. He’d originally intended to call on you, but felt that approaching the subject of what he could obviously tell was your very first orgasm would be impossible while in the company of others. So, he’d conceived an admittedly unconventional plan to discuss the matter with you, in private…

Anthony knew you had questions, and as a gentleman, he didn’t want to leave you confused or even worse, feeling as if you’d somehow done something wrong. Anthony was well aware of the fact that for young ladies, sexual education was limited to none. With all the privileges of a male upbringing, Anthony had acquired plenty of sexual knowledge and experience without the attached shame and social stigma a woman would receive if expressing herself in such a manner…

The sun had gone down over Mayfair, a crisp Autumn evening settling in as its residents did the same. You’d retired to your room for the night, ready to sleep and hopefully dream of carriage rides with Anthony Bridgerton, and without embarrassment. Being so close to Anthony had felt exhilarating, at first, until that terrible-wonderful-beautiful-terrifying surge of energy had taken hold of you. If only you could repeat the events of that afternoon, the ones that involved Anthony’s recusing you, his chivalry, his act of kindness…his touching you…without the resulting fit that had seized hold of your body. A realization washed over you. Could what you experienced have somehow been caused by Lord Bridgerton? He had observed the extent of your outrageous display with complete ease. It was a bit irritating, in fact, that he seemed to understand exactly what was happening to you, while you remained completely overwhelmed and in the dark.

You gazed at the ceiling, frustrated tears burning your eyes. What would happen if Anthony told anyone of your frightful episode? You could only assume he had not spoken word of it to anyone, because surely Lady Whistledown would have mentioned it in her latest scandal sheet. Clearly, Anthony Bridgerton was an honorable man. You chided yourself for thinking anything less than a gentleman of him moments ago.

Suddenly, a shadow at your window caught your eye. Usually, birds didn’t perch on your windowsill this late in the day…and what else could have caused the shadow, besides a bird? You closed your eyes, preparing for sleep. A dull thudding sound came from the direction of your window, lurching your body forward in bed and forcing your eyes open wide.

Anthony Bridgerton was crouched outside your window. Surely, you must be dreaming. And what a scandalous dream to be having, you thought to yourself with a giggle. It was only when Anthony tapped his knuckles against the glass that you realized, much to your horror, that you were most definitely not dreaming.

He smiled and pointed to the latch on your side of the glass, making a turning motion with his hand. You left your bed for the window, quickly grabbing a robe to cover your nightgown, which did little to conceal the shape of your breasts.

You unlatched the window and lifted it only so far as to hear each other speak. “Lord Bridgerton!” you whispered harshly. “Are you mad??”

Anthony’s smile faded only slightly, his head tilted in thought. “Possibly,” he conceded. “But nevertheless, I had to speak with you.”

“And why now?” you asked. “At the most inappropriate time? In the most inappropriate way-??”

“-Because,” Anthony interrupted. “The nature of my intended conversation with you demands privacy.” He sighed, glancing down at the latch again. “Now, are you going to allow me inside?” Anthony asked. “Or would you prefer I catch my death of cold? Or perhaps-.” He peered over his shoulder at the ground below. “-Falling to my death would better suit your-.”

“-Oh for heaven’s sake!” you snapped, throwing open the window, to Anthony’s delight. “Hurry in before someone sees you…”

He swung his legs over the windowsill, nodding a polite “thank you,” while keeping his steps as quiet as possible. Your eyes swept over the yard, trying to make out the face of anyone who might have witnessed the Viscount Bridgerton of all men climbing through your bedroom window. Thankfully, the grounds looked bare; you sighed gratefully, content with remaining free of scandal. For now, at least.

You turned to find Anthony seated on your bed, a sight that nearly gave you a heart attack. He saw the horrified look on your face, and immediately stood up- “Forgive me,” he said. “I did not wish to offend you. I find it…” He paused. “…Difficult, to know where you and I stand…to judge the nature of our relationship, after-.” Anthony swallowed, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“-After my frightful display in the carriage?” you offered, and he nodded.

“Yes,” Anthony replied. “Which, to be completely transparent, is exactly the reason I called on you tonight-privately,” he emphasized. “Because the nature of such a conversation is surely too sensitive as to be eavesdropped by others, do you not agree?”

Your eyebrows lifted, confusion written all over your face along with a blush of shame spreading over your cheeks. “People fall ill regularly, Lord Bridgerton,” you said, trying to calm the embarrassment making your voice tremble. “I fail to see how my…spell, though humiliating, as you seem eager to remind me, should warrant such a clandestine meeting as this...”

Anthony took a step closer; you flinched backward. “I do not wish to harm you,” he insisted. “Nor do I mean to imply wrongdoing of any kind on your part. If anything, it is I who acted thoughtlessly in not calling on you sooner, for not explaining that your-.” He smiled softly. “-Spell, or, falling ill as you call it, was not humiliating at all…”

You realized, for the first time in six days, that the feeling had returned. It stirred between your thighs like a dangerous, delicious secret. And while you couldn’t understand how, you were somehow sure that Anthony knew of your secret, too.

He took another step closer, and this time, you didn’t move backward. “Are you familiar with…” Anthony chose his words carefully. “…With the ways a woman’s body experiences pleasure?”

Your eyes widened; Anthony realized he may need to proceed with even more caution than he’d anticipated.

“When you…feel good,” he tried, watching your eyes for any sign of understanding. “That warmth you experience…inside your body…”

Anthony took another small step closer; you swallowed, feeling as if all the air had suddenly left the room. “…When you…touch yourself…”

He saw the lack of understanding in your eyes, and asked “you do touch yourself…don’t you?”

You shook your head, bewildered by Anthony’s lack of actual explaining. “Of course I touch myself, Lord Bridgerton,” you replied matter-of-factly; he seemed surprised by your blunt response. “I touch myself every day.”

“I’m glad to hear-.”

“-Everyone touches themselves every day-.”

He tipped his head in thought. “Well, it’s doubtful everyone-.”

“-In fact, I fail to see how that explains anything about my behavior last week, Lord Bridgerton,” you finished. Anthony looked slightly confused, and asked “when you touch yourself…do you not feel the way you felt in the carriage?”

You shook your head, embarrassment washing over you again. “No,” you replied. “I’ve never felt anything comparable to that while touching myself.”

Anthony considered his next question, and his reasons for asking it, carefully. “How do you touch yourself?” he asked, worrying immediately that he’d gone a step too far. Everything about this conversation was becoming more inappropriate by the second, but at least you seemed to have some experience in pleasuring yourself. It was a good start, Anthony reasoned.

You didn’t seem offended by his question in the slightest. “I touch myself each time I pull on my gloves, for example,” you explained, still not at all sure how this was relevant. “I brush my hair, which means I must touch myself to do so…” You continued to describe absolutely innocent everyday examples of ways in which you touched yourself, none of them pertaining to masturbation, as Anthony soon became aware.

He held up a hand to stop you, a gentle yet frustrated smile on his face. “While all of the examples you’ve given do indeed describe touching oneself,” Anthony replied, his smile fading. “They do not describe the manner of touching that would arouse feelings like the ones you experienced during your…spell, in my carriage.”

You stared at him blankly, completely confused. “How else would one touch themselves, my lord?” you asked. Anthony’s chest dipped as he exhaled, deeply. He hadn’t stopped thinking of the sounds you made in his carriage the week prior…of how you looked seized with pleasure, your pretty features contorted in ecstasy…the way your scent had remained in his carriage, how he’d used it to get himself off on the way back from your home…

Anthony knew he was treading on very dangerous ground. But despite his better judgement, he found the words he should not say passing through his lips, and his fingers drawing closer to touch your cheek: “Perhaps I might teach you, then?”

Your skin warmed beneath Anthony’s touch, his fingertip tracing your cheek and resting on your lips. It was all too much, the racing of your heart, the intensity of his gaze holding yours like no man had before. The beautiful ache between your legs was now pulsing, throbbing in time with your heartbeat.

“May I teach you?” Anthony asked again, softly. His thumb stroked the curve of your chin; your legs felt weak, unable to hold you. “Yes…yes,” you replied, every inch of you trembling. “Please…”

Anthony’s lips curved in a slight grin, but his behavior retained the calm sensibility of an instructor preparing to teach. He guided you toward your bed, gently imploring you to “lie back.” You followed Anthony’s direction, taking his hand as it was offered. His lips parted when your robe slipped off your shoulders, revealing the curve of your breasts, your peaked nipples lifting the fabric. You moved to cover yourself, but Anthony stopped you. “Do not be embarrassed,” he murmured, his voice low, sincere. “Your body is beautiful, (Y/N). It should not be a source of shame…not here. Not now.”

Anthony brought your hand to his lips, pressing your index finger to them in a pretend ‘shh.’ “No secrets,” he whispered. You whimpered softly, unconsciously pressing your thighs together, attempting to soothe the tension between them. Anthony noticed your discomfort…every part of him noticed. His cock twitched at the sound of your arousal, at the way your scent lifted through the thin fabric of your gown and straight to his nose. He watched your body tense as you tried to fend off the inevitable; you were going to come. And Anthony was going to watch it happen, again.

He loosened the cravat at his neck, the heat in the room increasing by the minute. He led your hand over your breasts, watching you gasp as your nipples perked to meet your palm. “That’s a good girl,” Anthony praised, his voice slightly strained. “Do you see the way your body responds?” He exhaled slowly, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the restraint of his trousers. “Now,” Anthony continued. “Bring your hand lower, like so…”

He guided your touch downward, dusting along your belly. You watched with widening eyes as your fingers moved closer to the space that throbbed more intensely with every breath you took. Anthony swallowed, feeling his resolve weaken. He had to keep himself under control; you were fragile, completely unaware of just how vulnerable a position you truly were in. A less honorable man than he would likely take advantage of an innocent young woman in such a state, having given him her full trust, legs spread and waiting for his command. Anthony clenched his jaw and resolved to continue your lesson, his desires forced into check.

He paused your hand just above the tender space you’d never touched, that no one had touched before. A space that in some ways belonged to Anthony already, as only he seemed able to arouse these desires in you from the start. How fitting, then, that he should be the one to guide your hand in exploring yourself, to the place that swelled and wept only for him…

Anthony’s erection was becoming distracting. He wondered if you’d notice, and ask about it. Thankfully, you seemed too consumed by the sensations affecting your own body to notice anything around you, for which Anthony was grateful. If you did ask to see it…looking all wide-eyed and innocent at his cock…asking why it stood like that, why he looked so intense-did it hurt…? What is it for…? Can you show me, my lord…? Anthony knew he’d crumble like a pastry and end up doing god only knows what…

He pressed his wrist against it, a subtle attempt at soothing away some of the pain denying himself was causing. Instinctively, you’d pulled your hand (and Anthony’s covering it) further between your legs, till your touch was hovering just above your clit. Anthony’s eyes were hooded, his lips parted and dry as he watched you. “Touch yourself, (Y/N),” he murmured, his voice husky, wavering. “Allow your body to tell you what she needs…”

Anthony gently lowered both his hand and yours, his fingertips fanning over your clit. You drew in a sharp breath, your hips bucking, the muscles in your stomach tensing as you lurched forward. “Shh…shh,” Anthony comforted you. “It almost hurts, does it not? A feeling so intense, it frightens you…like bringing your fingers too close to a flame…”

He lightly circled his fingertips over your clit again, pulling a helpless whine from your throat. Anthony’s cock twitched against his wrist, begging for relief. Sweat beaded along his hairline, his brow tense with concentration as he forced himself to maintain control.

“Focus,” he said, both to himself and you. “Lean into the feeling, frightening though it is…” Anthony used your hand to massage yourself. Your heels dug into the bed in response. “Let go of all the tension you carry,” Anthony whispered, his hand working over you. “Give in to the feeling….give in to...”

Anthony’s words failed as all his senses were consumed by the image, the scent, the sound, of you coming undone beneath his hand. You whimpered and wept, soft sobs of pleasure that spilled from your lips as your body convulsed. Your feet kicked wildly, making a mess of the bedding, sheets tossed this way and that as you flailed. In your beautiful struggle, your nightgown was thrown above your knees, putting your pretty, pouty lips on full display for Anthony. The scent of you was abundant, no longer inhibited by the cover of your gown. Anthony abandoned his pretense of modesty, aggressively rubbing the outline of his cock through his trousers while his other hand continued clutching yours.

He pulled away suddenly, a labored groan roaring up from his chest. You were just beginning to come down, your mind awash with the fuzzy, delirious bliss of orgasm. Anthony climaxed beside you, grunting through his release, filling the front of his trousers with semen. He turned to find you lying with your arms outstretched, your chest rising and falling and glistening with sweat. Your legs were still spread wide, your embarrassment long-abandoned, a big, satisfied smile lighting your eyes. Your smile faded just slightly when you noticed the look of exhaustion on Anthony’s face.

“My lord?” you said, concerned. “Are you alright?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding his assurance that he was well. “I assure you,” he replied, kneeling to sit at your bedside. “I am more than alright…”

He took your hand in his once again, feeling the slickness of your arousal on your fingertips.

“Did you…” you began, unsure how to ask. “…Did you do what I did, just now?”

Anthony’s brow lifted, his smile widening. “In fact, I did,” he said, to which you replied, in happy surprise, “I did not know that men could do it, also!”

Anthony threw his head back laughing, before quickly admonishing himself for making too much noise. He leaned closer and gave your forehead a chaste kiss, before making his way to your window.

“My lord?” you whispered. Anthony paused at the windowsill.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“If there’s anything else you might wish to teach me,” you said. “You’ll find my window open, from now on.” A mischievous grin turned the corners of your lips. “Remember that, will you?”

Anthony smiled, his mind already teeming with a thousand filthy things he wanted to show you. “I will remember,” he said, and exited through your window. ♥️

[kakiastro]

Astrology Observations and notes of all things Cancer related

This how cancers act when they’re home alone😅, just vibes and music😅

In honor of Cancer season, If you have Cancer, 4h, dominate Moon aspects placements, this post is for you !

-besides Crabs, other animals such as Elephants, Wolves and Bears are also ruled by the moon

-cancers are known as the nurturing sign and they most definitely can be, however, they struggle with being feeling vulnerable. Due to their sweet aura, they attract all kinds of people but it takes a lot for them to come out their shell.

-Cancer energy can also be very cold when they get angry. I know they are known as being “cry babies” but from what I’ve researched and seen, they can turn cold like sub zero, they turn into their sister sign capricorns(dark side of cap) 😭🤚🏽 they have the memory of an elephant, they’ll remember what you did to them forever in this lifetime and the next 50😭

- people who have Mars Cancer do NOT play when it comes to protecting their family members. Their anger is down right terrifying because how sweet and naive they appear. Oh no, they turn full on gangsta if you hurt anyone they love. 🤺

- I noticed you all are named after someone in your family or you get told that you act like a certain family member. You may be named after a women in your family or get told you act like her in someway

-motherhood may be a big theme in your life. This can include your own mother, friends who are mothers, working with mothers. Even if you don’t want or have kids, motherhood is still apart of your life somehow. Maybe being a mother to your own mother, the mom friend, the cool auntie that gives off mom vibes, mom to your siblings.

-Moon/Neptune aspects may struggle with fog memory. They can remember the big things in their life but have trouble with the small events. Taking pictures or journaling can help with this. I also notice they have these random moments where they remember the most random things at random times😅

-Moon/Sun aspects have such a powerful energy about them. You really light the room

-Cancer rising either have a face shaped like 🌝 or like🌛

- speaking of Cancer risings, them dimples! They deep like the moon craters

- acne problems, it’s even worse during adolescence but it does get better as you get older but you may occasionally break out. I also notice you guys have oily skin.

- Venus Cancer loves them a home cooked meal. They’re the type to go home to their mom or grandma for dinner. They may have a family recipe that’s passed down to them or they create one and pass it down to there kids

-they have a hard time with letting material things go especially if it’s sentimental to them. To the outside world it’s junk but to them it’s treasure. I get it tall I do lol

- Moon 11h attract a lot women as friend groups. Strangers may feel too comfortable with telling their personal business unprovoked

- leader of the family, it doesn’t matter what your role is, you are the one that holds the family together, people may be heavily dependent on you especially emotionally. You may be the first person in your family to accomplish something big.

-Cancer Suns may be the firstborn or firstborn daughter or son(not always). They are born during a time when their parents were especially father was ready to settle down and start a family. They could be born during a time where the family was going through some sort of emotional event and you were the fresh start. Will either feel more emotionally connected or feel disconnected due to trying to live up to his efforts and family ideals.

-Cancer moon feel a deep connection to their mothers theses are the type of children that will live with their mom into adulthood. Even if they move out, they calling they momma lol. Maybe very dependent emotionally on mom. If they don’t have a good relationship with mom, they will get will partners who can feel that void. It’s a lot harder for men with this placement.

-Moon/Jupiter comes from families with such strong belief systems and ideals. They carry these ideals into adulthood, it may be hard to break away from them. They may have a belief that they family viewpoint is everyone’s. They have to leave there nest and see the world for themselves and realize their family viewpoint may be short sighted. This can be triggering because you wonder what else were you not accurately taught.

-if you have 28°, that’s matriarch energy

-have you noticed Cancer starts in June which is the 6th month. 6 in astrology is ruled by Virgo. Summer months are chaotic because your starting a new routine for the season lol

-it’s also interesting that Cancer is the start of Summer season. All the kids is out of school and at home. This is one of the rare times of the year where families are vacationing and spending time together. Visiting other cities and countries. Cancer literally rules home countries and cities y’all lol

I’ll stop here but happy Cancer season and birthday Cancers

[ncityprincess]

Forever Home 🏠

Smut | MDNI

WC: 2.7K+

Plot: Long-term couple Johnny and Y/N share a delicious dinner and reminisce about all the good times they’ve shared in their soon-to-be old apartment.

*This couple is from the same universe as Nighttime Routine, the Big three-oh, and the Dad Johnny series so feel free to read those too, but they’re not required reading 🙂‍↔️*

Mentions: dirty talk, oral fixation, breeding kink, strength kink, size kink (come on it’s Johnny)

“Woah!”

Your fiancé did a little happy dance as he tasted the chicken he’d been working on for the past 20 minutes. Tonight, you two were trying a new chicken thigh recipe, and judging by the tall man’s enthusiasm, it was a hit.

“It’s good huh,” You teased, glancing up from your salad prep.

“Here, come try.” Johnny speared a piece of chicken on his fork, blowing away the steam. You paused, eager for a taste test, and bounced over, always up for sampling his cooking.

You savored the perfectly seasoned bite. “Mmm…” you hummed, delighted. The chicken was juicy, and tender, with just the right kick of spice. “Oh my God, this Harissa seasoning? Definitely staying in the rotation.”

Johnny grinned, nodding in agreement as he turned off the stove and started plating the food. Meanwhile, you resumed tossing the salad, whisking together a quick homemade dressing.

Peaceful moments like these made you appreciate the relationship you and Johnny had cultivated. It was the mundane, casual moments that truly warmed your heart the most. Not needing to fill silence with fluff and noise—just enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

“Red or white tonight, my love,” Johnny asked, interrupting your quiet thoughts.

“Mm, let’s do red tonight.”

After the table was set and you both had everything you needed, you finally sat down to dig in. The two of you engaged in some light conversation, gushing over how good the meal turned out, as well as what types of things you both got up to at work.

“I only had one client call today, so luckily I was finally able to finish cleaning out the hall closet. Thank God for remote work, one less thing we have to do this month.”

“Wooo, you rock babe thank you. That project took way longer than it needed to. How can two people rack up so much junk,” Johnny laughed before taking a bite of salad.

“Well, we had our suitcases, old college junk, your skateboard, my yoga mat, your endless supply of nerdy tech stuff, my totally not out of control shoe collection…We had our whole lives in that closet babe. That, and we’ve already lived in this building for six years. That’s a lot of time to collect a bunch of junk.”

“Well, I for one very much enjoyed accumulating all that junk with you, m’lady. And I can’t wait to collect even more junk with you in our new place.” Johnny punctuated his statement with a heaping bite of chicken.

You shook your head at his silliness. “Wow, how romantic honey. But I’m honestly so ready for our forever home. This market is so volatile,” you pouted. Johnny looked at you with warm eyes, wanting to kiss the pout right off your face…

You both had been house hunting for a lot longer than you had anticipated. Turns out, buying a house wasn’t as simple as they made it seem on HGTV. It wasn’t a straightforward choice between three gorgeous homes, it was sifting through piles of renovation nightmares and out-of-budget fantasies.

Each house was either too small, too outdated, didn’t have enough character, or had too many zeros attached to the price tag. Each viewing left you more disappointed than the last. Johnny, ever the optimist, always assured you that the right one would come along eventually. “What’s meant for us can’t skip us, baby.”

After dinner, you continued your normal routine of washing the dishes and putting the leftovers away. The faint smell of chicken and spices lightly lingered in the air. The calming energy of the kitchen filled you with a sense of peace.

“Oh, by the way, I picked up a little something from your favorite bakery on the way home. Check the fridge.” Johnny nodded toward the refrigerator before sitting back down. Even though your tummy was stuffed, your ears perked up at the thought of your favorite treat patiently waiting for you.

Johnny smiled fondly at the way you skipped toward the fridge and all but broke the door off its hinges to retrieve the dessert. You grabbed two spoons and plopped down onto Johnny’s empty lap. His strong hands moved to massage your hips and upper thighs while you opened the pink dessert box, eager to dig in.

But to your surprise and mild disappointment, it wasn't your delicious strawberry cheesecake, but instead, a silver key that you had never seen before. The key sparkled beautifully under the overhead light.

You stared at the box dumbfounded, turning to look at Johnny. His eyes held lighthearted mischief and he chuckled yet again, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked gently against your ear.

“…not my favorite strawberry cheesecake in the whole wide world?”

“Remember the place we looked at a few weeks back? The one we had our hearts set on, but another family placed a higher bid? Turns out their offer fell through. The house is ours, baby. We move in at the end of the month.”

The realization finally hit and you squealed, wrapping your arms around your lover’s neck. “You mean the one with the gorgeous sunroom and the little koi fish pond!?”

Johnny squeezed your hip. “Uh-huh, that’s the one. The one with just enough space to get started on that family we’ve always wanted. It all worked out perfectly baby.”

“Oh honey, I love you so much. Thank you! I can’t believe we’re gonna be homeowners!” You peppered a million smooches all over Johnny’s face, overcome with the joy of what the next chapter will bring.

“I love you. I’m so lucky to be able to experience this moment with you.”

You nuzzled yourself deeper into Johnny, suddenly feeling sentimental. “We’ve shared so many memories in this little apartment. It’s kind of bittersweet to be leaving”

“Yeah, we sure have…remember the time you flooded the bathroom. Maintenance was pisssssed,” Johnny teased.

You gasped and lightly pressed your pointer finger into his chest. “Well, do you remember the time you burned our Thanksgiving turkey?! We had to leave our windows open in the dead of winter to air out the smoke,” you teased right back.

“How could I forget, my mom never lets me live that one down.” You laughed and ran your hands through his silky strands absentmindedly.

“Remember when we got that terrible snowstorm that knocked the power out of the whole city? We were snowed in for days, and had to snuggle for warmth.”

“Goodness, I swore my fingers and toes were going to fall off,” you reminisced with a light laugh. “The electric bill was cheaper that month, but at what cost?”

You both chuckled at the memory, the glow of shared experience warming the space between you. The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft hum of the dishwasher.

Johnny’s gaze lingered on you, a quiet contentment settling over him. The longer he sat there, the more he became aware of how warm your body felt pressed against his. The memory of huddling for warmth now had a different meaning — not out of necessity, but out of comfort. He liked the way you instinctively nuzzled into him every so often, your soft curves fitting perfectly against his body.

His fingers traced idle patterns along your side, as though savoring the present moment. You felt the subtle shift in his energy, his touch growing more intentional, lingering.

“What kind of memories do you wanna make in the new house baby?”

Something about the way the tone of his voice hit your most sensitive parts lets you know that the energy of the moment was about to shift.

“Hm,” you pondered, letting the statement linger in the air.

Johnny wasted no time letting you know where his mind was at. “Because I think I wanna make some really dirty memories in our new bedroom. What do you think?” His hand slid up the front of your soft stomach, making you squirm.

“I guess we could make that happen. But who says we have to wait till we get to the new house?”

Johnny looked down at you pleasantly stunned, while your eyes held sensual mischief.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh Missy? You gonna be my bold girl tonight?”

You answered his question with a kiss on his pillowy lips, letting out a gentle moan when he pressed his tongue against yours. Johnny deepened the kiss and placed a strong hand on the back of your neck. You fought the urge to get on your knees right under the dinner table and get to work.

“Baby. Take me. To bed,” you breathed out in between kisses. Those were the magic words Johnny needed to hear.

“Say less.”

Johnny pushed the chair back and gathered you into his arms, making a beeline for the bedroom. You squealed as he tossed you back onto the bed, taking your breath away in the best way possible.

You gathered your bearings and flipped onto your hands and knees, crawling to where Johnny stood at the foot of the bed. You pawed at his sweatpants, silently gesturing him to pull them down and reveal himself to you. He smirked down at you and gladly fulfilled your request.

“You gonna suck me off real good baby? Huh?” You nodded and took his half-erect member into your hands. You began to stroke him slowly, closing your eyes in pleasure when he let out a guttural groan. Johnny gently rocked his hips against your hand a few times, throwing his head back in relief.

Your hand roamed along the length of his cock, and you admired how warm and muscular it felt against your hand. Your mouth watered at the thought of feeling the heaviness of him against your tongue.

You couldn’t wait any longer and bent forward to take Johnny into your mouth. “F-uck baby that’s it,” he stuttered out. His affirming words encouraged you to give him the best head you could muster at the moment.

You let your tongue swirl around his tip for a few more moments before taking a deep breath through your nose. You took his length deeper into your throat, the action making you gag and produce little messy slivers of saliva. Johnny bit down on his bottom lip and gently pet the top of your head as if to say, good girl.

It brought you so much pleasure to satisfy your man like this. He always poured so much love and attention into you, and this was one of your favorite ways to pour it back into him. Each of his grunts and groans filled you up with exhilarating pride.

You wrapped your fist around the bottom of his shaft while you let your mouth do the rest of the work, suctioning and brushing your lips against him. Your back was fully arched, and you swore you were getting more wet by the minute…

Johnny took one last look into your wide, lust-filled eyes that were silently begging for more praise. His hips stuttered insatiably, then he pulled out of your mouth completely. Entranced and reeling, you sat back onto your heels and pouted up at him. Already fucked out and needy.

“Don’t look at me like that. You were gonna make me blow, woman.”

“Yeah well that was kinda the point, buddy.” You wiped the residual saliva and salty precum from your lips breathlessly, proud of your literal handiwork.

“Calling me buddy while my dick is out is crazy.”

“Ok John, just fuck me already please, and thank you,” you whined, growing uncomfortable at the way your panties stuck to your dripping pussy.

Johnny grinned, stepping out of his sweatpants completely and tossing his shirt over his head. “That can be arranged.”

Johnny grabbed your ankle and yanked you closer to him, peeling your tiny pajama set and panties off. You lay underneath his looming figure, feeling submissive and completely at home all at the same time.

This was the man you were going to spend the rest of forever with.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, pretty girl?” Johnny slowly parted your thighs, bringing you back into the moment.

“How much I love doing life with you,” you answered sincerely.

Johnny’s heart swelled, and he pressed an affectionate kiss against the arch of your foot. He took his throbbing length in his hand and slid it against your slippery folds. You let out a soft sigh, bucking your hips greedily. Your body was more than ready to take him in.

He finally slipped into you, letting his jaw drop in sweet relief. “Agh, fuckin’ love you so much, babe. You don’t even know.”

“I do,” you quipped, wrapping your legs around his midsection. You arched your pelvis up against his, letting him get as deep inside you as possible.

“Do you though,” Johnny teased, building up a nice steady rhythm. He loved the way your needy hands traveled up the front of your body to grab onto your bouncing boobs.

“Mmm, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you moaned with a twinkle in your eye, enjoying the way his tip kissed your walls. Johnny shoved your hot body down onto his dick with each harsh thrust.

You always loved how athletic and strong Johnny was. He never made a big deal about it, but his natural athleticism always came out in the bedroom. He was so sweet and gentle with you normally, but you loved being tossed into whatever position and going along for the ride.

Johnny gently caressed your cheek, admiring your gorgeous, flushed face and the way it displayed a look of pleasure. The small, but romantic gesture juxtaposed the way his hips crashed into yours.

Something indescribable washed over you as Johnny brushed his thumb against your soft lips. You were overcome with erotic feelings and eagerly took the thick digit into your mouth, closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

You held onto his wrist with both hands as you moaned around his thumb, letting your tongue swirl around it like you did with his cock earlier.

Johnny thought you looked picturesque like this. He didn’t know how he got blessed with someone as gorgeous as you, but he thanked every single higher power known to man.

He silently wished he could capture this beautiful moment with his film camera, but nothing could ever truly capture how stunning you were like his own two eyes. You looked up at him with a half-lidded gaze, the seductive look making him slightly falter inside of you.

“My pretty baby, always such a good girl. Isn’t that right?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you moaned out in agreement. He made it so easy to be a good girl for him. He gave you everything you wanted and always spoke to you so gently…

“That’s the first thing I wanna do when we move to the new house you know? Wanna fuck you nice and deep. Just like this. Do you want that too?”

Your grip on his hand tightened as your jaw went slack, moaning out a whiny “yes.”

“Wouldn’t it be kind of crazy if I got you pregnant the first night we moved in? Fuck—“ Johnny groaned before taking a strong hold on your hips, picking up the pace to send you both over the edge.

Your breathy moans picked up in time with each harsh snap of Johnny’s hips. “Fuck baby I’m right there,” you moaned desperately, digging your heels into his toned back.

“What do you think will come first: the wedding or the baby? Guess we’ll find out won’t we?”

You were still very much on the pill, both of you agreeing to stay semi-safe until the wedding day. But the sexiness of the fantasy and the way Johnny was talking had you ready to go to the courthouse tomorrow morning.

Johnny slipped his hand in between your bodies to play with your clit, making you finally tip over the edge. You let out the prettiest sounds as you let go, and moments later you heard Johnny let out some deep sounds of his own.

Johnny pulled out and grunted as he tugged his dick a few more times, sprinkling milky droplets of cum onto your lower tummy. You both caught your breath and came back down to earth. The hot, steamy atmosphere of the room felt like warm satisfaction on your skin.

You looked down at the residual product of your love on your stomach and scooped some of the liquid onto your pointer finger and into your mouth. Johnny caught the dirty action and groaned, exhausted but still so turned on by you.

“Jeez, babe what’s with all this finger stuff today? You’re killing me.”

You giggled and shrugged, showing off the finger you just licked clean. “You deprived me of my strawberry cheesecake, I needed something sweet. What’s a girl to do?”

A look of remembrance flashed over Johnny’s face and he suddenly sprang out of bed, naked as the day he was born.

“What are you doing, weirdo,” you exclaimed and plopped back against the pillows. You heard faint movements coming from the kitchen, followed by quick footsteps coming back to the bedroom. Johnny emerged from the kitchen with one of your Tupperware containers and two spoons. He jumped in bed next to you and opened the container.

Your beautiful strawberry cheesecake was staring back at you in all of its deliciousness.

The end 💋

[corroded-hellfire]

Hii I love your work I was wondering I have a request for a AYW blurb/side story. I'm inspired by the hockey game I just went to

So let's say luke is in college or in high-school and he has hid first game and reader gets mildly anxious that he gets hurt and eddie reassures her everything going to be okay and he wins and they all go out to dinner.

Idk just something fluffy.

Thank you

Hockey?! Now you're speaking my language. I can't believe I never thought of Luke playing hockey before. Thank you for putting this in my brain!

Words: 2.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Magenta painted toes curl inside your thick, fluffy socks. The little girl who applied the shiny polish the other day stands on the metal bleacher, between you and your husband. Her little knees bend and straighten as she bounces up and down, two curly pigtails bobbing along with the motion below the soft pink beanie on her head. 

“Let’s go, Luke!” Eliza cheers. Small brown boots stamp on the metal surface below her as she claps her mitten-clad hands.

Eddie chuckles from the other side of her, one arm hovering around her small frame in case she loses her balance. The hockey game hasn’t even started yet and Eliza is ready to hand her big brother the MVP award. 

The chill from the ice rink soaks into your skin even through the layers of your long-sleeved tee and jacket. Your gloves seem to do nothing to keep your fingers from turning into icicles, so you tuck your hands between your thighs, hoping the body warmth can thaw them out. 

“You okay, babe?” Eddie asks, leaning back to look at you around your four-year-old. 

The nod you give isn’t convincing, even to yourself. You couldn’t be prouder of Luke for making the Hawkins High School hockey team as a freshman, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t worried about him getting hurt. The fresh batch of pregnancy hormones coursing through your system isn’t helping matters either. 

An obnoxious buzzer blares from the speakers on the wall as the scoreboard sets itself down to all zeroes. The crowd full of families and friends starts cheering as the two teams pour out onto the ice. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eliza become airborne and you look to see Eddie lifting her over his lap so she’s standing in between him and Ryan instead of him and you. A steady arm wraps around you, and you gladly lean into your husband’s embrace.

“He’s going to be fine,” Eddie tells you.

“I know.”

“Yeah? Because you look like you’re about to storm onto the ice and drag Luke home by the collar of his jersey.”

You release a deep sigh and try to get your tense shoulders to relax. 

“He’s played sports before,” you say, sounding more like you’re convincing yourself than the man next to you. “Baseball, basketball. But this is different.”

“Why’s that?” Eddie knows exactly what’s different–it’s your usual protective Mama Bear energy enhanced tenfold due to your fluctuating hormone levels. But he isn’t dumb enough to come out and say that—again.

“Because,” you huff. “Now there are blades and sticks and boards he could be slammed into or ice he can fall down on.”

Eddie rubs his hand up and down your shoulder. It helps both comfort you and warm you up. 

“There are sticks in baseball,” he points out. “They’re just called ‘bats.’ And he’s fallen and skinned his knees both running the bases and on the basketball court. As for being slammed into the boards?” Eddie lets out a breathy chuckle. “That would be nothing compared to having little She-Hulk over here as a sister.”

You let out a small giggle, peeking around your husband to see Eliza enthusiastically shaking Ryan’s shoulder, pointing to where number 86 is out on the ice, warming up.

“I guess that goes for any hockey fights, too,” you say.

“See? Now you’re getting it.” Eddie smiles fondly at you and places a kiss against your temple.

A referee blows a whistle and both you and Eddie watch as the two teams take their places for the first face-off of the game. 

Luke’s best friend Sean skates up to the blue line, right in the center and ready to battle for the puck. Next to his number 19 jersey is Luke to his side as the right winger. The referee drops the puck and the game begins. 

Both your and Eddie’s eyes are glued to your son as play moves around the ice. Your gazes follow him up the ice and back down before he hops onto the bench for a shift change. Without her brother now to focus on, Eliza comes up with a new way to entertain herself: a cheer.

“Let’s go, Tigers!” Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

It only takes two turns of her cheering before the home crowd joins in, leaving the little girl beaming, proud to have started the trend. She’s no stranger to different cheers for the team; whenever Luke plays basketball, Eliza only cares to focus on the cheerleaders doing their routines on the sidelines. Ryan tends to pay a lot of attention to them too, but for different reasons. By now, Eliza could probably mimic most of Hawkins High’s cheerleading repertoire. 

A few minutes later, Luke hops back on the ice and you feel the nerves flutter in your stomach. It’s a very different, and distinctly more unpleasant, feeling than the fluttering of having a baby in there. 

“He’s okay,” Eddie murmurs to you, just loud enough to be heard over the din of the rink. 

You nod, but slip your hand into his for reassurance, nonetheless. 

“Mama?” Eliza crawls over her father’s lap, clearly not paying attention to where her bony little limbs are jabbing him, and reaches out to you. “I gotta go potty.”

A battle of emotions collide in your head as you nod and offer your hand to her. One part of you is thankful to get a small distraction from the game, your eyes able to relax instead of seeking out Luke’s constant presence. The other part of you is worried that something will happen while you’re not there, though. As if him getting a hard cross check from an opposing player wouldn’t have occurred if you were still in your seat. 

The ladies’ room is mildly warmer than the rest of the rink, and you lean on the outside of the stall door that Eliza goes into.

“You okay by yourself in there?” you ask.

“Mhmm! Wait. Can you hold my mittens?”

Once the stall door is relocked, you slip the pink mittens into your jacket pocket and listen as Eliza begins to hum a tune to herself. It’s difficult to tell at first, but you’re able to identify the song as I’ll Make a Man Out of You from Mulan. 

After Eliza finishes up, washes her hands, and slips her mittens back on, the two of you step out of the restroom. Before you’re able to take two steps in the direction of your seats, a horn blares, signaling a goal.

Eliza gasps and quickly tugs on the hem of your jacket because she’s too small to see what’s going on over the wall. You scoop her up and the two of you stand at the glass, near the net that was just scored upon. Both of you cheer when you see that it was the Tigers who got the first goal. Luke is sitting on the bench on the other side of the ice though, so you know he wasn’t the one who scored it. 

When the two of you get back to your seats, the first period is coming to an end. Eliza settles comfortably in her father’s lap and tilts her head to look up at him.

“What we miss?”

“Uh, Luke knocked a guy down against the wall over there.”

“Luke hit a guy into the boards,” Ryan translates into proper hockey terminology, smirking at his dad as he does so. 

“That’s what I said,” Eddie says. “And, uh, there was a penalty called on Sean for sticking a guy, so he went to sit out.”

Ryan snorts. “Sean’s stick got caught in another guy’s skates, so he got a penalty for tripping and was in the penalty box.”

“Time out!” Eliza declares. 

“Am I speaking Japanese?” Eddie asks, making Eliza giggle and curl into his lap.

“Of course not,” you assure your husband with a pat to his chest. “Just not speaking hockey either.” You giggle when he shoots a playful glare your way. But you manage to make it better by pressing a few kisses along his stubbled cheek. 

During both the first and second intermissions, Eliza entertains herself by looking for friends of Ryan’s or Luke’s in the stands and begging her oldest brother to take her to them. At one point, Eliza spots Ryan’s more-than-friend-not-quite-girlfriend-yet, Hannah, a few rows back and quickly makes her way up to her. Ryan’s face blooms scarlet as he follows behind his little sister, who has made herself comfortable in Hannah’s lap.

“Did you see Lukey?” Eliza asks the teenage girl. 

“I did!” Hannah says, smiling at Ryan as he takes a seat next to her.

Eddie leans in, his breath tickling your ear. “Do you think Eliza will ask Hannah to go out with Ryan before he gets around to it?”

You agree with a soft giggle and nod. 

“Oh, absolutely. Ryan’s so nervous and Eliza doesn’t have the patience for that,” you say. “God help any boy who is slow to ask her out in high school.”

Strong hands grab your sides, thick fingers digging into your ribs as your husband tickles you. A small yelp escapes your lips before you turn and burrow your head into Eddie’s neck.

“Hush your mouth,” Eddie murmurs. “Eliza isn’t going to date until she’s thirty.”

“Good luck with that.” You laugh and playfully shove his hands away from you.

Just as the third period is about to begin, Eliza and Ryan make their way back towards the two of you on the bleachers. Ryan has a lovesick smile on his face and the sight makes you smile in return.

“Have fun with the big kids?” Eddie asks as Eliza plops down next to him.

“Mhmm,” she nods, brown eyes scanning the ice for where Luke is. “Hannah say she likes my hat. And Juan said Mama is really cute.”

“What?” Eddie asks, arm immediately encircling you. “Who?”

“Ryan’s friend.” Eliza waves a dismissive hand in the boy’s direction, her focus still on the ice.

Eddie goes to look over his shoulder but you quickly grip his chin between your thumb and forefinger and bring his gaze back to meet yours.

“Really?” you ask him quietly. It’s impossible to suppress the amused smile on your lips. “Are you going to stare down a sixteen-year-old boy?”

“I don’t need a younger man hitting on my wife,” he says.

You laugh, shaking your head at his ever-present jealousy. 

“I don’t know if you noticed,” you say, “but I like older men. And no one is hitting on me.”

“Yet,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Shoot it, Luke!”

Ryan’s shout refocuses your and Eddie’s attention back on the game in front of you. Luke stick handles the puck past a defenseman and skates closer to the opposing team’s net. You hold your breath as you watch Luke wind back his stick and slap the puck to the five-hole, between the goalie’s pads. Time moves in slow motion as you watch the black rubber disc travel over the goal line.

The siren blares and you stand up, raising your arms in the air as you cheer for your son.

“That’s my boy!” Eddie shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“That’s my brotherrrrrr!” Eliza mimics.

Ryan hoots and hollers as you clap enthusiastically, a huge smile on your face. 

The other Tigers hockey players on the ice skate over to Luke, either tapping him on the leg or ass with their stick or knocking their helmet against his. 

The PA system overhead crackles to life before a student announcer says, “Goal scored by number eighty-six, Luke Munson!”

The crowd cheers, punctuated by a certain little girl’s shrill “Yay!” 

“Assisted by number nineteen, Sean Lowery, and number four, Alex Duffy!”

“Yay, Sean!” Eliza yells.

Luke’s goal ends up being the game-winning goal, which causes his team to pile on top of him once the game is over. 

“They’re going to hurt him,” you mumble as you stand up from the bleachers.

Eddie rolls his eyes, not unkindly, from his seat—he knows you won’t be able to see him since you’re standing. Your husband rises to his feet and presses a kiss to your temple.

“He’s fine, princess.”

He is, of course, and you’re glad to see it for yourself when he comes out of the locker room. A beaming smile adorns his face as he bounds towards the four of you, his curls soaked with sweat and his heavy gear bag thrown over his shoulder. 

“Did you see it?” he asks excitedly.

“See it?” Eddie repeats, eyebrows raising. “Didn’t you hear us?”

“I heard someone,” Luke teases, tugging Eliza’s pink beanie down over her eyes.

She huffs and quickly pushes it back up, giving her big brother one of her signature unamused glares. 

“I’m so proud of you!” You take Luke’s face, flushed from all the exertion, between your hands and press kisses over his sticky-with-dried-sweat face.

“Gross,” Ryan mumbles.

Misinterpreting why Ryan thinks the display of emotion is gross, Eliza turns to her oldest brother with her hands on her hips.

“Kisses not gross!” She hops up and down, making fish lips, like she’s trying to jump up to his level to give him kisses.

“Um, some kisses are gross,” Luke says once you’ve finished. When Eliza looks over at him, Luke’s eyes dart back and forth between you and Eddie. 

“Prepare to be disgusted then,” Eddie says, slipping one arm around your back and pulling your front flush up against his. He grins at you before lowering his head to slot his lips over yours.

“Ugh!” “Ew!” “Stooooop!”

You laugh against Eddie’s mouth, and the two of you break apart, sharing an amused look.

“Alright, goblins,” Eddie says, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get going.”

The five of you start moving toward the exit when you tap Luke on the shoulder.

“Where do you want to go to dinner?” you ask him.

“Why does he get to pick?” Eliza whines.

“You can pick when you get a game-winning goal,” Ryan tells her, tugging on a single curly pigtail. Eliza pouts, looking suspiciously identical to her father, and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“Uhh…” Luke muses as your family steps out into the chilly October night. “I want Chinese food. Let’s get Eliza a pu pu platter.”

“Blech!” Your daughter sticks her tongue out and shakes her head. 

“Oh God, she’s going to steal everyone’s noodles again,” Ryan sighs. 

Eliza lets out the evilest giggle you’ve ever heard come from her as you reach the car. 

“I want all the noo-noos!” she declares as she yanks the back door open. 

“I’m ordering rice then,” Luke says as he climbs in behind her.

“Boo!” Eliza calls. 

“These kids are crazy,” Ryan says with a shake of his head.

Eddie laughs and musses up Ryan’s hair. It’s harder now that Ryan is almost as tall as him. 

“Okay, let’s get this hockey celebration on the road,” Eddie says, tapping the roof of the car as he walks around to the driver’s side. 

“Burn rubber, Gretsky,” you say as you slip into the passenger’s seat.

Eddie glances at you before turning the key in the ignition.

“Who?”

“Jesus, Dad,” Ryan sighs.

[simplyraeblue]

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ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP !femreader x !virginshoto you've had a crush on your friend shoto for a long time, and unbeknownst to you he's been crushing as well. not only that, he wants you to be his first time; for everything WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing, fluff, suggestive, shoto is kind of a simp word count: 2,707 A/N: oopsy daisy real quick short post because I couldn't help myself and the idea of sweet shoto wouldn't leave my brain... little cutesy filler part before they hit home base (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ also I was listening to The Archer x Not Strong Enough while writing this... linked here if you want to listen while you read!

part one | part two | part three |

part four | part five

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you were desperate to ignore the incessant barrage of notifications from Mina. just moments ago, you had dragged yourself off your feet, finally collapsing onto the couch after a grueling day. the minute you sank into the cushions, your phone erupted with a flood of calls and text messages. exhaustion weighed on you heavily, and each buzz and ping felt like an assault on your already depleted energy. it wasn’t until the hundredth call that you finally gave in and answered.

“what do you want, Mina? I’m absolutely wiped out,” you groaned, trying to inject a note of humor into your voice despite how drained you felt.

Mina’s voice came through the receiver with an overly enthusiastic tone, almost too cheerful for your weary brain to handle. “get dressed up; we’re going to a fancy restaurant!”

you sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes in frustration. “did you not just hear me say I’m exhausted? I have zero energy left, and honestly, I’d rather not spend any more money right now.”

Mina’s response was an impatient tsk, filled with exasperation. “I don’t care how tired you are or what you want. put on something fancy and forget about the cost. be ready by seven-thirty, or I’m coming over there to drag you out myself.”

you wanted to argue more, but the stubborn resolve in Mina's voice told you this was a battle you wouldn’t win. plus, deep down, you knew she was right. maybe a change of scenery and some good company was exactly what you needed to recharge. with a resigned sigh, you checked the time on your phone—it was already past six.

“fine, fine. I’ll be ready,” you grumbled, hoping your tone conveyed the minimal enthusiasm you felt.

“great!” Mina replied with an exaggerated cheerfulness. “see you soon!”

you hung up and stared at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone. despite your fatigue, you found a sliver of motivation. you stood up, stretched, and began to rummage through your closet. picking out a sleek dress and a pair of heels that hadn’t seen the light of day in months, you couldn’t help but feel a small spark of excitement. maybe this would be a good distraction after all.

as you prepared yourself, you tried to push aside the lingering thoughts of your long day. you opted for minimal makeup and a quick hairstyle, focusing on just enough to look presentable without draining what little energy you had left. by the time you checked the clock again, it was nearly seven-thirty.

just as you were about to head out the door, you heard an unexpected knock. you’d assumed Mina would just text you the address and meet you there. curious and a bit puzzled, you opened the door and started to say, “Mina, I promise I’m ready—”

but it wasn’t Mina standing there. instead, Shoto was at your doorstep, impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit. he held a bouquet of flowers, the rich colors and delicate petals contrasting with his formal attire.

“apologies for letting mina trick you,” Shoto said, his voice gentle and warm as he offered you a reassuring smile. “I wanted this to be a surprise.”

“Shoto, what’s going on?” you asked, your confusion mingling with a touch of excitement as you accepted the flowers, your cheeks flushing at the unexpected and thoughtful gesture.

“I’m taking you on a proper date,” Shoto replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. he extended his arm toward you, a subtle invitation. “I figured it was about time, especially considering the… less conventional things we’ve been up to.”

you stared at Shoto for a moment, your mind racing to process what was happening. the bouquet in your hands felt surprisingly heavy, its fragrance filling the air with a sweetness that contrasted with the formal setting.

“a proper date?” you echoed, trying to reconcile this unexpected turn of events with the casual plans you had made with mina.

“yes,” Shoto affirmed, his tone steady and sincere. “I wanted to do something special, something more meaningful. and mina kindly agreed to help with the surprise.”

you took a deep breath, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling up inside you. “this is… really unexpected. but also, kind of amazing.”

Shoto’s smile widened, and he gently took your hand, guiding you out the door. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve been looking forward to this. let’s make it a night to remember.”

as you walked down the stairs and into the cool evening air, you glanced back at your apartment, feeling a mix of disbelief and anticipation. Shoto’s presence was reassuring, his calm demeanor helping to ease your lingering fatigue. he led you to a sleek, black car parked by the curb, its polished surface reflecting the city lights.

“where are we going?” you asked as he opened the car door for you, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“it’s a surprise,” he said with a playful glint in his eye. “but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

you settled into the plush leather seat, watching as Shoto got in beside you and started the engine. the car glided smoothly through the city streets, and you found yourself enjoying the rare luxury of simply being present in the moment.

Shoto made small talk as he drove, his voice soothing and easy to listen to. he talked about the restaurant he had chosen, the dishes they were famous for, and the ambiance he hoped you would appreciate. the conversation flowed effortlessly, and you could feel the genuine interest and care behind his words.

when you finally arrived at the restaurant, it was even more beautiful than you had imagined. the elegant exterior was bathed in soft, warm light, and the interior exuded an atmosphere of refined sophistication. Shoto guided you inside, where you were greeted by a host and shown to a private table with a stunning view of the city skyline.

“Shoto, this is insane,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed out the window. the city below sparkled like a sea of stars, the lights stretching out as far as the eye could see. the extent of it all hit you suddenly, making you acutely aware of just how much effort and expense this must have entailed. “you didn’t have to go all out like this. I would’ve been perfectly happy with something more… quaint.”

Shoto extended his hand across the table, his touch gentle yet reassuring as he clasped yours. his smile was soft and genuine, a look of quiet pride in his eyes. “I wanted to do this. for you.”

throughout the evening, Shoto’s attentiveness and thoughtfulness made you feel cherished and valued. the meal was exquisite, each course a culinary delight, and the conversation never faltered. as the night progressed, you realized that Shoto’s surprise was not just about the setting or the food but about the effort he had put into making this night special for you.

by the end of the evening, as you sat back and savored the last of your dessert, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Shoto reached across the table, taking your hand in his once more.

“there’s actually another reason I planned this night with you, y/n,” Shoto said, his voice a bit hesitant. he lifted your hand gently, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. as he pulled away, you noticed a faint pink hue spreading across his cheeks, a blush that made him even more endearing.

“okay, now you’re gonna make me worry,” you joked lightly, trying to ease the tension with a playful laugh. but his nervous gulp made your own anxiety spike, and a flutter of unease began to settle in your stomach.

“I… shit, I don’t know how to put this,” Shoto murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find the right words. he turned his eyes to the sprawling cityscape outside, and you felt a pang of anxiety, your heart racing in your chest. “I care about you, quite a lot.”

“I care a lot about you too, Sho,” you responded softly, hoping to reassure him. his eyes met yours again, filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

“I’m sure this might feel very sudden, and maybe a tad rushed,” Shoto continued, his voice trembling slightly. he squeezed your hand with a tenderness that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “but, after all these years of having a crush on you, and the past few weeks of growing closer, I think… no, I know I’m falling in love with you, y/n.”

the room seemed to hold its breath as Shoto’s words hung in the air. you could feel the weight of his confession pressing gently against your heart, and the enormity of the moment made your mind swirl with a mix of emotions.

for a moment, you were silent, processing the depth of what he had just shared. Shoto’s fingers still rested lightly around yours, his gaze searching yours with a blend of hope and trepidation.

“I… wow,” you finally said, your voice soft and trembling with emotion. “I had no idea you felt this way.”

Shoto’s cheeks reddened further, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t want to rush things or make you feel pressured. I just needed you to know how I really feel.”

you took a deep breath, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for him. the realization that he had been holding these feelings for so long, and that he had chosen this special evening to reveal them, made your heart swell.

“I’ve been feeling the same way,” you confessed, your voice gaining strength. “I didn’t know how to say it either, but I’ve been falling for you too, Shoto.”

a look of pure relief and joy spread across his face, and he squeezed your hand once more, his eyes sparkling. “really? you mean that?”

“yes,” you nodded, smiling through the tears that had formed in your eyes. “I mean it. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, but I didn’t want to rush things either.”

Shoto’s expression softened into a tender smile, and he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page,” he murmured. “I want to take things at a pace that feels right for both of us. I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”

you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness and the sincerity of the moment. “I want that too,” you whispered, your heart full of hope and happiness. “let’s see where this takes us.”

as you both leaned across the table, your lips yearning to mold against his, Shoto suddenly smirked and broke the moment. “hopefully to home base,” he joked, the playful glint in his eyes causing you to snort with laughter. his smirk widened as he heard your reaction, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a hearty laugh that was both infectious and endearing.

as Shoto continued laughing, you felt a wave of boldness and excitement. standing up from your chair, you made your way around the table, feeling a sense of exhilaration that made you disregard the curious glances from other diners. with a determined stride, you leaned in close to his ear, your breath warm and tickling his skin. “let’s take this special evening home, shall we?” you whispered, and you could almost sense the shiver of anticipation that ran through his body.

Shoto’s reaction was immediate—his face flushed with a deep, embarrassed pink. this wasn’t the end goal for him tonight, not by any measure. he wanted you to understand that his confession was heartfelt and sincere, and he hoped you knew that it wasn’t just a pretext to move things forward physically.

“I—seriously?” Shoto asked, his voice dropping to a low, almost incredulous murmur. you could see the nervousness flickering in his eyes, and it only made you more determined. reaching out, you offered him your hand with a reassuring smile, trying to convey your genuine affection and support.

“unless you don’t want to make a home run?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. Shoto’s reaction was immediate and comical—he stood up from his chair with such urgency that he almost knocked it over. “wow there, eager are we?” you laughed, watching as he fumbled slightly, trying to regain his composure.

“if you keep teasing me, we’re not making it back to your apartment,” Shoto groaned, his voice tinged with frustration and amusement. he pulled you gently towards him, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. as he lingered there for a moment, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, making your heart race. “I’d hate to have to take you in my car,” he added with a playful edge, clearly struggling to keep his own excitement in check.

his warning tease almost came true, because when you two made it to the car he nudged you against the side of the vehicle, letting his hands roam a little too much for the public as he kissed you fervently.

you would’ve let him take you in the car, white hot desire burning inside of you so quickly that you felt like you’d die if you didn’t have him on top of you.

even when you made it back to your apartment, you both barely made it in the door as he started pawing at your dress. Shoto had to restrain himself from ripping the tight fabric that fit so well around your ass, thinking he needed to try and remain as gentlemanly as possible.

you became a tangle of limbs as his lips met yours, hungry and needy, the two of you stumbling your bedroom. you guided him to sit on the edge of the bed before you started to work on the buttons of his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and discarding it on the floor.

Shoto could only watch in awe as you stepped back, slowly working on the zipper of your dress (thank god you chose one with a side zipper), before letting it drop to the ground.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” Shoto whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. his gaze remained locked on yours, though he clearly wanted to let his eyes wander over your now exposed skin. he had seen you like this before, sure, but it never failed to take his breath away, each time more intense than the last.

you settled yourself on his lap, your body fitting comfortably against his. a soft, tender smile played on your lips as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his mouth. “you make me breathless, Sho,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “absolutely, and utterly, starstruck.”

Shoto’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the kiss before pulling away slightly. his gaze was dreamy, half-lidded with a wide, affectionate grin spreading across his face. “will you be mine?” he asked, his voice filled with earnest desire. “call me your boyfriend, and I’ll call you my girlfriend. we’ll make our friends sick with pda, go on dates all the time, and I promise I’ll treat you like a princess. we can cook together, sleep together, do everything you want to do. I’ll follow you, I’d follow you anywhere.”

your heart swelled with emotion at his heartfelt words. overwhelmed by the depth of his promise, you kissed him deeply, pouring all your passion into the embrace. the kiss was intense, a shared declaration of the love and commitment you both felt. “that sounds perfect to me, boyfriend,” you whispered, the term feeling both exhilarating and right as it fell from your lips.

the moment you said the words, shoto’s arms wrapped around you tightly and flipped the two of you so that you laid bare underneath him.

“can I make love to you, girlfriend?” Shoto���s face was pink with lust and emotions, and his gaze was filled with a deep desire that made you feel like the only girl in the world.

“yes, Shoto.”

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Link to Bakugo x reader here

(word count: 2,328)

Link to Kirishima x reader here

(word count: 902)

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[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: implied domestic abuse (zero detail is given)

Eddie was late for school at least once a week. It wasn’t a problem of getting up and getting ready on time, his mom made sure he was moving.

He could hear the way the new neighbors fought sometimes, saw the way the older boy would rush into his vehicle and practically fly out of the park. He’d watch as the younger girl, Red, would follow soon after, backpack slung over her shoulder and feet kicking rocks as she walked to the main road to catch the bus.

He didn’t stop her the first time it happened. To be honest, she looked furious and he didn’t exactly want to be torn to pieces by a girl at least 5 years younger than him.

But the second time, he swore he saw a few tears on her face and he couldn’t not at least try.

When she didn’t immediately murder him, he decided it was probably safe to offer a ride to school. Surprisingly, she agreed.

And this continued for months.

Annie Munson would get a call from the school every couple of times and try to explain, but any Munson excuse was not an excuse they cared to hear.

She didn’t say anything to Eddie about it; didn’t want him to feel like he was doing anything wrong by being kind to someone who needed all the kindness they could get. She saw the way Mrs. Mayfield seemed to stay curled into herself even when he wasn’t around. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

But eventually, the school threatened to call child protective services, and Annie couldn’t let Eddie deal with that. He’d already had enough of that before they moved in with Wayne.

So she pulled him aside the night of that call and hugged him hard, told him she loved him for his big heart, his caring soul, but he had to figure out how to not be late to school.

He could read between the lines easily enough.

Max started showing up at their door 15 minutes earlier every morning, not quite smiling, but not looking quite as angry. Annie welcomed her in as she finished packing her lunch for work, didn’t really try to talk to her much. She left that to Eddie, who always came down the short hallway with a beaming smile and a “Hey Red! Long time no see!” or a “You’re looking slightly less murderous this morning, did you already sacrifice something to Satan? Without me?”

Max always tried to hide a smile, but Annie caught it.

Eddie had that energy that made everyone feel just a hint of sun on a cloudy day.

It continued well into Max’s freshman year. Especially after her step brother died in a tragic mall fire and her step dad booked it out of town, she needed someone.

At school, they pretended not to know each other. Eddie explained it was easier on Max that way, and she had other friends, or so she said. He never really saw her hanging out with them, but he just assumed they had different schedules.

Annie saw through it. She was pretty sure Eddie saw through it. Neither of them risked her running for the hills, though.

- - - -

After the earthquake, Annie spent as much time with Eddie and Max as she could. Max’s mom seemed distant, like she couldn’t process any of what happened. Max deserved better than that, so Annie did her best.

It was easy to forget how young she was when she spoke. The boy who sat by her side nearly 24/7, Lucas, explained that she had to fend for herself since she was pretty young, as if she still wasn’t pretty young.

As soon as Eddie was able to leave his bed, he asked to be wheeled over to Max’s room.

“Gotta make sure she didn’t perform any satanic rituals without me,” he joked, though it fell flat when it hit him that most people still thought he actually performed satanic rituals.

Annie had to get home and make dinner for her and Wayne, so the Harrington boy volunteered to take him.

Annie was perceptive enough to see why the Harrington boy, Steve, was around nearly every day. She was also perceptive enough to see the way Eddie blushed when Steve wrapped his arm around his waist to help him into the wheelchair. She’d ask him about it later.

She did at least walk with them to the elevator, listened to their quiet conversation about Max being half blind and her arms being in casts.

The next day, she visited Eddie as usual before work, brought him a hot coffee. He was still asleep, his hand stretched out towards a sleeping Steve. Steve’s fingers were just barely touching Eddie’s, like they’d maybe been holding hands at some point until someone shifted in their sleep.

She set the coffee down on the table by his bed and scratched a note on the pad he’d been using for campaign notes.

Maybe they could bring Steve a cot if he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in your room. Love, mama

She folded it in half and set the coffee cup on top of it so hopefully only Eddie would see.

But if Steve saw it, maybe that would be okay.

- - - -

When Max got out of the hospital, Eddie was waiting for her in his van, only just released from police custody a few days before.

She shook her head.

“I may actually have to do a satanic ritual to get into that thing. I thought Steve was getting me in his car?”

The nurses scoffed at her words, but Eddie ignored her.

“Steve had to take Robin to the school for volunteering. And I brought Lucas to help,” he gestured behind him to where Lucas was hesitantly standing by the passenger door. “Between the two of us, we can get you in and out. No satanic ritual required. This time.”

He winked at the nurse, just to be a shit.

“Annie said she’d bring me cake when I got home,” Max said as they maneuvered her into the passenger seat and waved the nurse away.

“She’s at home baking it as we speak, Red.”

“Oh.” She said it like she actually didn’t believe it would happen. Maybe she didn’t. “Cool. I guess.”

Eddie smirked. “When my mama says she’ll do something, she does it. And if she can’t, she’ll do the next best thing. Never doubt her.”

“Yeah, but I’m not her kid.”

“Neither is Lucas, but she packed him lunches everyday for the last two weeks when she realized he wasn’t leaving your room to get something. Neither is Steve, but she makes his favorite for dinner once a week. Neither is Dustin, but she held him until his mom could get to the hospital when they were trying to set his ankle. If she cares about you, she does it.”

Max nodded. “I guess that’s a nice thing to have.”

“Yeah. And you have it now. So don’t push her away. Or any of us. Got it?”

Max snorted. “I haven’t had a moment alone in over a month. It’s not like I can get rid of any of you.”

“Exactly. Glad we’re on the same page!”

She turned to Lucas the best she could and glared. “You’re taking me to the movies as soon as these casts are off.”

“Yeah! Okay, yep!” He agreed quickly.

Eddie snorted. “Jesus Christ. You two are ridiculous.”

“Whatever,” they said in unison.

- - - -

When everyone was able to go back to school, Eddie drove them all.

He had a diploma, so he didn’t have to worry about being late, but he still woke up early enough to pick them all up and drop them off.

Max was always the last one out of the van.

“No satanic rituals without me,” Eddie would tell her.

“Not until Saturday!” Max would answer him.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I don’t live my life thinking a lot about money, trying to ‘get’ more money, or not having enough money yet I am not motivated by money either. The act of receiving more money does not make me rush to hurry up and finalize my books or open up my school. I can’t remember the last time I worried about money because having money is an intimate frequency and energy of FREEDOM. You have to break the frequencies of constantly penny-pinching, being stingy, allowing how much money you have in the bank to dictate your mood or living afraid to buy the very things that you need that will expand or evolve you, which is not the same thing as shopping all the time as a coping mechanism for being human, incurring consumer debt or being irresponsible and reckless with your money. And your life force will never thrive when you are a slave or prisoner to money.

The Practical and Spiritual Journey to Making More Money —You Must Enlist Your Warrior and Your Energy

You have to look at earning money like a game and enjoy growing your money and playing the game or else you never win. Not just saving or hoarding it away in your bra but allowing your money to work for you while you sleep like putting it in stocks. I have a degree in Accounting and have always believed that women were born to be skilled in financials but we are socialized to perceive ourselves not. But when you were born with a womb, you are naturally gifted at multiplying a seed into something much larger and intelligent like a whole baby. You are a natural amplifier, nourishing and growing what has been received. Be willing to look into investments and not be afraid of accumulating “healthy debt” and learn to move your money around in order to grow it. Look to investing part of your earnings into different funds, even if it is just cutting back on buying coffee and putting that money you would have paid for a daily coffee into a savings that will accrue and be used to invest in the future. If you already have cash flow, getting rental property to airbnb or sell (everyone I know that is quietly wealth-oriented owns at least 2-3 homes) which can be overwhelming to think about when living pay check-to-pay check but just beginning to think about how you can earn more money from your own money passively gets the ball rolling in your consciousness like what would it be like to open up a laundry mat, build it up and sell it in a few years for huge profit? Laundry mat ownership is such a fast lucrative business, just like what you see in the hood in movies. Or buy a raggedy house, build it up and sell it for a higher cost and incredible profit. Some of you straight and bi women entrepreneurs who are ready for good lovers must find love and attraction with lovers who are builders and handymen and can help to upscale and modernize your home that you can then resale for great profit and stop messing with dusties who have zero skill sets and create more stress on your life. 🙏🏿 Because when you live a highly stressful, parasympathetic, flight or fight life, the first thing you lose is your sexual desire or libido i.e. your umlimited creative power. No thank you!

If you have a spiritual business like me, you can do deals underneath the table but also work towards a LLC to legitimize your company which gives you tax breaks and allows you to earn more money. Something about going through the channels to make something official moves it from just being a hobby to a legit business. As magical spiritual woman, your power move is to attract someone willing to invest in your work as a start-up. If you do, you must cherish this person, love this person with all your heart, hips and soul (if the relationship is romantic but of course it can also be platonic or familial, either way, love this person), adore them deep and true. The person, this angelic being, this God, is saving you massive stress and headache. Their presence in your life serves a larger purpose —you must help them to understand this because our world teaches us to be so fearful and suspicious of being helped or helping someone rather than gracious and honored. Too many people are missing out on great blessings of interdependence because they live afraid and suspicious of the big heart of another human. So sad that many amazing beautiful people are stuck in their little corners hoarding away and missing out on healing, thriving, and experiencing the gifts and/or talents of another human because of how we have been wired to perceive the desire to meet one another’s needs and desires by status quo culture. To be a woman who can love someone in ways that relax their body so deeply that they can finally get out of their head and rest well and regenerate their tissues at night is incredibly priceless.

**This is not the same thing as looking for a handout, walking around broken like the world owes you something or hoping someone will help because you tell a victimization story. It is about being mature and resourceful and consciously manifesting what is needed and not simply what would be cool or cute potentially through love and loving.

But not every woman is ready or qualified for the aforementioned experience because you do have to develop skills that will be greatly useful, nourishing, nurturing, decompressing, relaxing or expansive or beneficial in other ways to another person. You can’t just be attractive or whatever. You have to be a woman who has developed a certain ease and peace in her body and life first and and that is what joining my school and online temple will help you master. And I personally believe you must also really love someone if the harmony is right because 1. love is incredible and healthy for the body to experience for however long it lasts 2. love is essential for the brightest sustained outcome. I’m not talking about the “sprinkle, sprinkle“ foolishness being promoted online. I am advocating for more love between people and all that comes with truly loving someone.

Be so skillful in your mature womanhood that you don't run from challenges, but face and engage them head on, and refine, recalibrate, and evolve beyond them. Never lose the boundaries that you are running a business albeit a spiritual one but still a business. Stay devoted and disciplined, both are essential. Work towards hiring people who can help you scale and grow eventually.

The Spiritual Journey to Making More Money—You Must Invoke Your Lover

The key to having more money is to learn to surrender and trust and truly allow the universe to be your provider, which is not an intellectual idea but a frequency of feminine energy. This is less about gender and more about the willingness to live a little bit beyond the egoic surface layer of reality of urgency that tells you to hurry and produce, to hoard or take or trigger you to constantly need to check off a to-do list, always needing to plan or to cross your t’s and dot your i’s which will allow you to buy that nice house and cute car eventually, but could greatly inhibit your energy from flowing where you never really can feel the joy of a simple moment pulse up your spine because you live in stress and overwork for external things that never make you fully truly happy.

No matter what stage of life you are, the undercurrent of your reality must feel like more relaxation and freedom if you want to have more money but not exhaust yourself in rigorous pursuit and constant labor for it.

I had to learn to draw in the frequency of freedom—to laugh at myself, to play, to rest, to relax, to do silly shit like twirling throughout my day —when life was very stressful, drama was high, and money was low. Neighbors would see me twirling. I would sometimes twirl for customers whose shopping totals were over 200 dollars. Because changing frequencies or weaving new realities is most potent when life is hard. You have to discover strategic ways to do the things you really want to do in life but was told you couldn’t afford. You must also have this hunger and desire to play the game of life to win while laughing at yourself along the way as you refine more and more and develop intimacy with the currencies of relaxation, love and freedom, which naturally include having more money.

But do not just copy and paste and take from others. Give. —India Ame’ye

Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.

Kahlil Gibran, Mirrors of the Soul

Chapter: The Money Drop (unedited)

[ruhele]

New York Dining Room Kitchen Dining Ideas for a mid-sized, contemporary, light-wood floor kitchen/dining room remodel without a fireplace and with white walls