#Raspberry Honey Spread

[vashishtisuperfoods]

Vashishti's Raspberry Honey Spread is a guilt-free delight made with real raspberries and natural honey, free from added sugar and preservatives. Order online now

[bluepoodle7]

#KrogerJumboBiscuitsButtermilk #BonneMaman #BonneMamanStrawberryPreserves #StrawberryPreserves #BonneMamanRaspberryPreserves #RaspberryPreserves #FruitPreserves##Meijer #MeijerCreamyWithHoneyPeanutButterSpread#KrogerHoneyCrunchyRoastedPeanutButter#SpamBaconSpamTocinoMeijerCreamyWithHoneyPeanutButterAndKrogerHoneyCrunchyRoastedPeanutButterMixedFruitPreservesBiscuitReview

I tried these Kroger jumbo buttermilk biscuits with Bonne Maman strawberry & raspberry preserves, Meijer Creamy With Honey Peanut Butter Spread & Kroger honey crunchy roasted peanut butter, Spam bacon, and Spam Tocino.

The Kroger Jumbo Buttermilk Biscuits sandwiches was pretty good.

The biscuit and both spams were both firm yet soft and the creamy Meijer Creamy With Honey Peanut Butter Spread the Kroger honey crunchy was both smooth and crunchy, the tocino spam added a light sweetness and the bacon spam added a light saltiness with the pork.

This biscuit sandwich was lightly salty and sweet to the biscuits.

The strawberry and raspberry preserves gave the biscuit sandwiches a light sweetness that this sandwich needed and the creamy with crunchy honey peanut butters added a light sweet/salty to these buttermilk biscuit.

This was a a little messy to eat when holding this biscuit sandwich but was still tasty.

This was sweet and salty tasting but not overly of both.

I would eat this again.

[hongjoongspoetry]

Just Another Night, Until You | Choi San

❤️‍🔥 Summary: Hectic nights at work is nothing out of the ordinary for you, but when a man is wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit with second degree burns all over his body and in the need of immediate medical attention, your life takes a turn as his body heals on his own by the mere presence of you. Shocked by the discovery, you stay by his side as he recovers and together you come to terms with your unexpected connection.

❤️‍🔥 Pairing(s): Firefighter!San x Emergency physician!Reader

❤️‍🔥 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, best friend's brother, oldest daughter and youngest son, slice of life, fluff

❤️‍🔥 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), brief description of burn injuries, medical setting, san is living up to his romance-cat title, pet names (darling, my love, love, honey), MC is a Jeong, a lot of physical intimacy, kisses gallore, san is down bad for the MC, brief description of motorcycle accident and fractured bones (not explicit), the fear of losing loved ones, emotional exhaustion, a few swear words, not beta read!

❤️‍🔥 Wordcount: 7.5K

❤️‍🔥 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). Wihooo! And there goes the second to last instalment of the March Event ;-; im lowkey sad it's ending soon although it gives me more time to work on other stuff!! anyhow, this one was really fun to write and I hope you'll enjoy it, be prepared for a lot of love sick sannie 🥹 Btw I'm not a nurse/doctor or have any "proper" knowledge regarding how things go down in the E.R or hospital for that matter either, so this is all based on excessive research. Thank you for your understanding!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains mature scenes such as descriptions of serious injuries, medical procedures as well as adult language. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist

It was an exceptionally calm hour in Seoul National University Hospital. Most nights were bustling with life, whether it’d be residential patients abusing the call button, relatives refusing to leave after visiting hours were over or an incoming emergency putting the whole hospital in a fit. But not tonight. The clock hanging on the wall opposite of the nurse’s station in the emergency department recently struck midnight. You slumped down by your desk as Haneul, your roommate, best friend and fellow colleague, dragged her legs behind her and nearly toppled over her seat. You finished off the last rounds of checking in on the inpatients on your floor, yet your social batteries were already drained and the nightshift had just started. 

Haneul blew a raspberry before her head dropped onto the desk with a soft thud. She groaned and threw herself back on the chair, her arms extended and legs elevated. Her slip-on shoes barely hung onto her feet and she wasn’t faring any better.

“I’m so tired,” she complained and went limp in her seat. “I can’t wait to clock out and return to my boyfriend.”

You let out an amused huff, the pencil twirling in your fingers coming to a stop as you caught it mid air. “You mean your bed?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Ha-ha, really funny Haneul.”

“It’s a bit funny, admit it!”

You rolled your eyes at her, but couldn’t fight off the smile that spread across your face. It was never a dull moment when in Haneul’s company. You were certain that even if death were around the corner, she’d still find a way to make the situation feel light. That was probably why you two had hit it off at university. She was mostly, if not always, in a cheerful mood, while you walked around with a dark cloud over your head. Had it not been for Haneul approaching you solely because your shirt was similar to one of her favorite character’s outfits in a drama, you probably would never have become friends. A decade later and you were tighter than two peas in a pod, and even decided — after your first semester — to move into a flat together which was still your current home.

“Whatever… I can’t complain as it’s at least a quiet night.”

The unspoken rule of never mentioning the obvious flashed before your eyes and you cowered from the blazing look Haneul shot your way. The air was caught in your throats and neither dared to move an inch from your places. You slowly turned your head sideways, waiting for a patient to peek their head out or scream that their pillow needed puffing up. As the empty hallway continued staying silent and the motion sensor lights didn’t turn on, you exhaled in relief.

“You got lucky there,” she said and logged into her computer. 

As you parted your mouth to answer, a voice broke through from the radio placed on the wall-mounted brackets. A report concerning a handful of people who were hurt in a fire set loose in an apartment came through and everyone ditched their tasks to get ready for the newcomers. You and Haneul, along with other nurses, ran to the trauma bay and occupied a room each where you, hopefully not, would get a patient each. The sound of multiple sirens grew louder the faster the ambulances sped toward the hospital and didn’t stop until the flashes of red and blue colored the building. Despite being employed for two years and counting, you never got accustomed to the ear piercing noise or blinding lights.

“Nurse Kim, could you prepare the wound care kit? Nurse Hwang, bring the respiratory support system. We don’t know what we’re dealing with so we need to expect the worst!”

The commotion from the triage area reached your room as the patients were being rolled into the hospital and underwent the initial assessment of their conditions. The code red patients would fall into your hands and you, together with your team, would do your utmost to lessen their injuries. You put the other glove on and waited by the door of your room. The sight before you was jarring to say the least. The victims of the fire were all in different conditions. Some crying and wincing from the burnmarks while others lay completely still as if the burned skin wasn’t a painful inconvenience. The wonders of falling unconscious. An elderly nurse with a couple of years beneath her belt pushed a stretcher toward you and you hastily moved out of the way. 

Nurse Yeon quickly spewed the little information she knew of the unconscious patient, but you couldn’t focus on her words. Your entire attention was given to the man before you. He looked peaceful despite the soot smudged across his face and several burn marks littering the majority of his body. He was also handsome — very handsome. That, you couldn’t deny. His black strands fell over his closed eyes and brows. Most of his features were sharp and defined, red heart-shaped lips in a slight pout, a long nose with a prominent bridge, high cheekbones and a few beauty marks peeking out from beneath the smeared ash. But you knew that, out of everything, his most alluring feature was his eyes — even when closed. You could see the feline-like shape that reminded you of a panther in the wild and you found yourself wondering what color they were. A tingle erupted along the pads of your fingers, almost begging you to move his hair out of the way. 

“...He was found unconscious in the building after being caught in the fire. Red category. He has second-degree burns on twenty percent of his body, severe smoke inhalation and is currently in respiratory distress. We’ve initiated oxygen therapy. BP is low and bolus fluids were administered to stabilize circulation. He is unresponsive, likely due to hypoxia.”

Nurse Yeon brought you back to the present and you ignored the highly unprofessional thought. With the help of Nurse Kim, you connected him to a monitoring machine and proceeded with the remaining steps of the protocol drilled into your spine. You administered high-flow oxygen via a non-rebreather mask to address the smoke inhalation and to prevent breathing issues later on.

Facing away from the patient to grab a scalpel in order to cut his already torn shirt, you just about turned your head and called out, “Nurse Kim, give him an IV fluid with saline to prevent shock and maintain blood pressure as well as a light dose of morphine to relieve him of pain. Nurse Hwang, hand me the scalpel, please.”

The nurses wasted no time following your orders. While Nurse Kim stabilized the patient’s blood pressure, you drove the sharp end of the scalpel through the center of his shirt to expose the injured area and assess what else you had to work with. As expected, there were blotches of irritated, red skin all over his upper body. It didn’t look too bad but would scar if left untreated. Your main concern was the smoke inhalation, but the high-flow oxygen proved effective, as the pulse oximeter showed that the oxygen saturation in his blood was slowly improving and you could swiftly move on to treat his wounds.

“Nurse Hwang, hand me the antiseptic soluti–”

A horrified gasp cut you off mid sentence and your head flung to the doorway where a nurse — a trainee at that — stood with her wide eyes and mouth hanging open behind her health mask. The interruption crawled beneath your skin like electricity. You glanced down at her nametag.

“Trainee Park?”

The student didn’t budge nor make a noise of acknowledgement and you had half a mind to terminate the established contract between the hospital and nursing school. You understood the weight of students gaining hands-on experience in a hospital setting, but it was beyond the agreement for a student to interrupt a life alternating moment for the patient.

“Trainee Park I won’t ask you a second time, what is it?!” 

Antiseptic solution in hand, you faced the student again, though her focus wasn’t on you but on something behind you. A line formed between your brows as you followed her gaze, leading to what she was staring at. Your patient still lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling in rhythmic motion, but you weren’t caught off guard by his regulated breathing. The patches of glaring red skin that previously looked painful to the eye were replaced with a lighter hue as if his body was recovering on its own. It was inhumane and in all your years as both a student and a licensed doctor, you had never seen anything like it. However, everyone in the room knew exactly what it meant.

“Fuck…”

One of the male nurses found the patient’s ID-card in the cardholder neatly tucked in the pocket of his pants while changing him into a hospital gown, but it was the teary look on Haneul after seeing the man’s face that everything clicked in place. Choi San, the little brother of your best friend, was your soulmate. 

The realization didn’t hit you while standing in the center of the trauma room or when his injuries healed more quickly beneath the touch of your finger. The fact that you had found your soulmate dawned on you early one morning, as you were making rounds between the remaining victims of the apartment fire and came across his room — the last patient to be checked on. The thought of finding your soulmate hadn’t crossed your mind in years. It was locked away in your old high school classroom, along with your youth, when you used to fret over who your soulmate might be. Would they be a foreigner? A celebrity? A boy or a girl? Rich, kind, or rude? The possibilities seemed endless, and you often spent more time daydreaming about the different outcomes than focusing on your studies. It was a miracle you didn’t fail most of your classes.

It was only when you set a goal that you lost interest in who your soulmate was and dedicated more of your time to studying. Little by little, as assignments piled up, you pushed the thought of your other half to the back of your mind and forgot about it. Of course, there were instances when the topic would come up every now and then — meeting distant relatives for the first time in forever and having them ask about your partner, or going out to dinner with Haneul and watching her get so drunk she forgets her own name, but still manages to make bets. Looks like you’d be treating her to that BBQ after all.

You entered the room and stopped at the end of the patient bed staring at San’s sleeping form. The harmless jealousy seeped into your bones as he lay there oblivious to the turmoil wrecking havoc inside of you and you wondered if, despite his unconscious state, he could feel even a glimpse of your emotions. Because you could feel him throughout your entire shift. The change in breathing, eyes fluttering, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as if he was right there with you.

The joke you once cracked to Haneul when you first started working there, something along the lines of finding your soulmate while tending to their wounds, wasn’t funny anymore and left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You sighed and glanced down at the patient chart hanging off the bedside. His vitals were good. More than good considering he was being driven straight from a burning building. Doctor Jung ran some tests on him during the night and they confirmed that San suffered greatly until he arrived at the hospital, until he reached you.

The doors of the room were violently pushed open and the eldest Choi entered as if her brother wasn’t lying there unconscious. Her unexpected arrival stopped your thoughts from spiraling further and your heart from racing into palpitations. It was weird to see her lips pressed into a thin line and eyes void of light, replacing her usual dimpled smile that would brighten your day. 

“How is he?” She eventually asked and buried her hands in the pockets of her white coat.

You cleared your throat and mimicked her stance, both of you focused on the resting man. “He’s healthier than a newborn baby.”

Five hours of constantly being on your feet, moving around and not having the chance to take a five minute toilet break put you in a hazy mist. It wasn’t until now that you felt the weight of the situation sink in. Who would’ve thought your best friend’s brother was your soulmate?

“You know,” Haneul started and broke you out of your thoughts. “I’m happy it’s you. Someone I know and trust as much as I trust myself.”

The words were oddly warm and spread a branch of hope through you. While you were too caught up with your work and then your own feelings, you didn’t stop to think what Haneul thought of everything. Her two worlds were colliding and it could either be good or bad.

“Is it weird?”

“Not at all… It’s the best thing I could ask for. That my best friend and brother get along… Just…” Haneul gnawed on the side of her bottom lip and turned to you, “Just don’t hurt him, Jeong. San is a tough cookie, but he has a fragile heart and I really don’t want to ever choose between you. You are both very dear to me.”

“You won’t have to. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t hurt him even if I tried.”

Haneul chuckled despite the tears making their escape down her cheeks. “Is it really like how they say? Are you already… affected by him?”

You breathed out a laugh at that. The countless nights spent talking and making fun of other couples who had already found their happily ever after were sure biting you in the ass, because it was, in fact, exactly how they said it would be. The unexplainable pull drawing you toward him, the yearning to be by his side and feeling him everywhere. Every skip of his heart, harsh intake of air and twitch of his fingers were all transferred to you

“Yeah, it’s exactly how they say it is.”

Haneul eventually left to do her last rounds and finish writing reports until the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the end of your second night shift that week. San didn’t wake up until a few hours later and despite being hooked to a monitor regulating his state and showing nothing out of the ordinary, you didn’t leave his side for even a second. The dread of another emergency report coming through squeezed your abdomen until you were on the verge of puking. Just the thought of parting from him almost sent you hurling your insides in the guest bathroom. You were lucky to have wonderful colleagues who understood the circumstances and reassured you multiple times not to worry about finishing your reports or doing rounds. Nurse Hwang and Kim even passed by with snacks and water before returning to work.

The clock struck early morning when your chin slid off your knuckles and you were unpleasantly awoken from your slumber. The fear of falling to your death had you jumping out of your seat and taking in your surroundings. The sun gently shone through the windows occupying the entire left side of the room and filled the space with auburn streaks kissing your face. The warm rays seeped through the cherry blossom trees planted along the outskirts of the hospital. You found the view to be exceptionally beautiful during the early mornings when the pink petals detached from the branches, swirling in the air like snowflakes and covering the boring cement pavement..

A laser like heat bored into the side of your head and you scanned the room to find the source, only to get lost in the eyes of your soulmate. A wide smile stretched across his face and you realized the dimple gene ran deep in the Choi family as an identical pair to Haneul’s popped on San’s cheeks. You couldn’t shake away the image of a content and well fed cat at the sight of him. 

San immediately shifted the blanket to the side and had one bare foot planted on the floor, ready to leap out of bed and wrap you in his arms. The man just about managed to stand on both legs when you rushed from your seat and gently pushed him back down.

“No, no, please, sit!”

San fell back on the mattress without much of a fight. The moment your hand made contact with his shoulder, an explosion of tingles erupted along your palm, spreading like wildfire through your arm and out to the rest of your limbs, reaching the tips of your toes and fingers. The air caught in your throat and, like magnets forced together, your eyes found his again. Neither of you had to vocalize the question balancing on the tip of your tongues, asking if the other felt that crackling fire. San sensed the twinge of worry squeezing at your heart and hummed in content, he reached out and grabbed one of your hands in his to ease the burden atop your shoulders. He smiled so hard his eyes turned into crescent moons and hadn’t you known better, you’d think he’d start purring like a cat receiving ear scratches. 

“I’m fine. I don’t need rest because you are here.”

You ignored the heat pooling beneath your cheeks at his rather flamboyant response and steered the conversation elsewhere. “What were you thinking running into a burning building?”

The words came out effortlessly, as if you had known him since your youth.

“I didn’t do it on purpose…” He began and jutted out his bottom lip. “My feet just moved on their own, call it an instinct. Besides, I couldn’t just leave everyone inside. I’d put shame on the entire fire department!”

“Curse you for being reckless and kind hearted, San.”

“Yet thanks to my recklessness, I landed in the hospital and found you.”

The cheeky reply nearly made you pop a blood vessel. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm after facing death less than eight hours ago. The monitor attached to him shouldn’t have been stable. Based on your past experience with burn victims, San should’ve been startled and shaken up, and in some uncomfortable pain. Instead, he remained unnervingly composed, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you question your own knowledge. His calmness felt unnatural, given the circumstances. The heart rate monitor, which should’ve shown elevated readings due to stress, stayed oddly steady and only spiked up when you spoke, moved or looked at him for too long.

“San… we are soulmates. We would’ve met eventually,” you hissed, trying to mask the look of realization on your face. The soulmate bond explained his calm demeanor. As he said, he was fine now that you were there, while you just wanted to cover him in bubble wrap and not let him out of your sight.

“Yes, but not soon enough.”

You abandoned the conversation for now as it wouldn’t lead anywhere. San was deadset on his decision being correct even though it was a foolish one and you still had a job to do. Ignoring the way he followed your every movement, a polite smile and creased eyes never leaving your form, you adjusted his pillows and checked the IV attached to his forearm. 

“Do you need anything else?”

“Hmmm, just you.”

Had you met under different circumstances, perhaps in a grocery store where you'd bump carts together or on a packed bus where he’d give up his seat for you and stand by your side to shield you from the other commuters, his charms would’ve worked. But you didn’t. Instead San decided to search the burning building for others with no gear, just his strong will and hope clinging onto his back, and all his attempts at flirting were futile as you couldn’t get the image of his unconscious body out of your head.

“Too bad,” you settle on saying. “You can’t have me before twelve PM.”

The pout intensified and he even crossed his arms in retaliation. Seeing a man in his late twenties throw a silent tantrum wasn’t something you thought you’d ever find endearing, but there you were, suppressing a laugh and yearning to smooth out the wrinkles on his forehead. 

“Do you have to go?” He whispered and looked up at you through his lashes.

“Yes, unless you want me to be fired?”

“Fine! But the second that clock hits twelve, you and I are both getting out of here.”

“You can’t just leave, San, they have to run tests and–”

“I’ve never felt better and I think every doctor in the building can agree with me. What I will be if I don’t get to spend time with you is sick, and sad, and heartbroken and–”

“I get it, I get it!”

San lived up to his promise of spending time with you. In fact, he wasted no time running down the hallway the moment the minute hand switched to twelve, asking everyone dressed in white cloaks where Doctor Jeong was. The question left his mouth for the tenth time that minute just as you rounded the corner, ready to check out. San gave you all of three seconds to bid your colleagues goodbye before whisking you away. His plan of getting to know you consisted of lying tangled up on his sofa with a meaningless movie playing in the background, while his fingers caressed your back and his eyes shifted back to you every other second, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. 

You weren’t faring any better. Your head was neatly tucked beneath his chin, and your hand was splayed over his right pectoral, the tips of your fingers gently rubbing soothing motions beneath the curve of his collarbone. Had you known your soulmate would be a kitten with separation anxiety, you’d have stalled on meeting him for a little while longer. Although, deep down, you knew that was a lie. San was everything you needed him to be and more: attentive, gentle, sweet, kind, caring — the list was truly endless. 

The days spent cocooned together — San on sick leave to recover from the accident and you having the next two days off from work — made up for the thirty-something years you hadn’t been in each other’s lives. In just forty-eight hours, you created a bond that most lifelong best friends would envy. He shared embarrassing stories from his and Haneul’s childhood days — sweet memories of how his mother dressed him in Haneul’s hand-me-downs, despite her closet mainly consisting of flower dresses and cute skirts. In return, you told him about that one time you accidentally locked your parents out on the balcony and then hurled your breakfast back out from the anxiety and fear of never seeing them again. If only little you could have understood the wonders of spare keys and that your grandmother was already on her way to solve the issue. 

The first night was spent staying up late, talking about heartfelt stories and niche interests to the point where you both passed out and didn’t wake up until late afternoon the next day. Who knew your hunk of a fireman liked collecting sweet plushies and was adamant on learning how to crochet?

That wasn’t everything though. A week into your freshly established relationship and San hadn’t missed to stop by your workplace once to give you lunch, coffee, midnight snacks or a quick peck on the cheek. It was easy in the beginning when San didn’t return to work for an entire week. The soulmate bond proved that he wasn’t in need of resting as much as his company thought and he eventually had to return earlier than expected. It was weird to be glued to each other for hours on end to then not be able to see each other because of your hectic schedules that never seemed to align. When you’d return home from a long night shift, he was dressed and ready to leave. 

You voiced your worries to Haneul during a lunch break, saying how you were afraid of moving too fast, but now that you barely got to spend time together, it felt like you were moving at a snail’s pace. She mildly reassured you that it craved more than some social distance for your soulmate bond to break and that it would take some time for you to find your footing in the relationship.

However, working multiple shifts a week while running on little to no sleep left you too exhausted to plan an outing whenever an opportunity for the two of you to spend time together appeared. Date-night looked different in the Choi-and-Jeong books. Instead of glamming up and booking a reservation at a fancy restaurant, you decided to stay in and watch a movie that would sooner or later be forgotten as you’d be too enamoured with each other. Haneul walked in on one too many make-out sessions, and thus, you came to the decision to host movie nights strictly at San’s apartment.

Like many times before, you lay atop San, his legs parted, giving you the option to cage his left one between yours. One of his arms was bent and propped behind his head to act as a cushion, while the other was curled around you, his hand pressing against the small of your back in a comforting embrace. Your cheek was mushed against his chest and your hand limply rested on his bicep. A movie played on the big screen and a plethora of snacks were strewn out on the coffee table but left untouched. You joked about how, ever since San entered your life, your sugar cravings had dramatically decreased because he was bringing too much sweetness into it.

“Honey?” San broke the comfortable silence and spoke over the characters on the TV. You hummed in reply and he continued. “I want to ask you something.”

As you shifted to get a better look at him, he pulled you in a tight embrace and you immediately stopped moving. “Don't look at me, just… listen? Please?”

“Okay, Sannie, what is it?”

“How do you feel about… moving in… with me? Or me with you!” You could hear the blush attacking his cheeks and embarrassment clinging onto his voice as it grew higher in the end and the words came out in a rush.

Joy tugged at your lips and you couldn’t stop the light hearted chuckle from slipping out in the room. You broke out of his gentle hold and grabbed his hand in yours, and planted a chaste kiss on it.

“I think I’d love that.”

Without warning, he squeezed your cheeks between his palms and captured your lips in a tender kiss, leaving your insides warm and mushy. Despite having muscles the size of a watermelon and broad shoulders that could carry the entirety of Noah’s ark, San was a real softie. He had the habit of holding you as if you were the most valuable possession on the earth, a feather which could crumble at contact or a cube of sugar that would melt beneath the rain. The shared kisses were brief but left a tingle on your lips that you couldn't get enough of and nearly whined in retaliation as San withdrew to catch his breath. 

“I adore you, like really, really much,” he confessed and kissed you again, and again, and again. The peppered kisses were planted all over your face — nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, eyes, forehead. The endearing act of love pulled a string of giggles straight out of your tummy, cursing you with an ache that your grandmother would call remedy for the soul.

One moment he was on you and the next, he turned you over to lay against the couch while he  scrambled to his bedroom on the other side of the apartment. You pushed yourself up on your forearms with only your upper body lifted as you curiously watched San runoff as if his rear caught on fire.

“Sannie?” 

“Just a second, honey!” 

Rough shuffling reached the living room, but it was the loud crash of objects clattering on the ground that you almost headed to see the commotion yourself. San’s reassuring voice telling you everything was okay didn’t help you relax, but you trusted his judgement and remained seated. The eager wait was short lived as San returned with something tightly clutched in his right hand and stopped by the end of the couch, back uncomfortably straight and face pinched into a serious expression. Hadn’t you known him for a little shorter than a month, you’d assume he was about to get down on one knee and ask you to live the rest of your life by his side. 

San cleared his throat and extended his arm low enough for you to see his well manicured fingernails. You shuffled over closer to the end of the sofa and sat up on your knees. His fingers unfolded and exposed the trinket laying in the center of his palm. An apartment key. The spare key to his apartment to be precise.

“I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I’ve never been sure of anything more than this and I really want to take this next step with you.”

“Are you asking me to marry you or move in with you?”

Red dusted his cheeks and he had to look away. Your own lips curved up as his eyes creased into crescent moons, a telltale of his dimpled smile making an appearance. San covered his mouth as if it would make his smile disappear. Testing the waters, he asked, “Would you say yes?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” 

San was sure he could pass out right then and there. His cheeks hurt from smiling too much, but it was the only pain he would ever welcome with open arms. You climbed onto the couch and jumped into San's arms and he effortlessly caught you, his hands finding their designated place on your hips and thighs while your arms slid around his neck like a koala. Your fronts were pressed against each other, but you continued pulling him toward you, as if the chance of becoming one entity was higher than inventing flying cars. San dipped you down princess-style and stole a long kiss, one that you were more than eager to reciprocate. Your fingers tangled in his black hair, nails soothingly scratching his scalp, and your heart swelled with so much love and happiness it felt like it could explode and fill the living room with colorful confetti.

It was a shame the human needed air every few minutes because all you wanted to do in that moment was feel him everywhere. Breaking apart, you rested your forehead against his, hot breaths fanning across each other’s lower faces, chests rising with fervor as your bodies desperately tried to reclaim the lost oxygen."

“I’d say yes a hundred times over,” you breathed out, “but let’s save that for after we meet the in-laws.”

“My parents have already scheduled a day for when we can go to Namhae,” he eagerly replied to which you hastily leaned back, nearly sending you both tumbling over.

“San! I swear you’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably in love with you.”

Lips swollen, eyes welling with joy and hearts beating erratically, the world paused as you looked at each other. The diploma neatly placed on your desk and the knowledge you had collected over the years seemed insignificant when the love you harbored for San could regrow burned forests, mend broken bridges and heal even the most shattered of hearts.

Living with San was nothing out of the ordinary, except that you saw each other more now that you lived under the same roof. Considering your shared apartment with Haneul was bigger than San’s, it only made sense for the Choi siblings to switch places. That way you kept your room and San took Haneul’s. You quickly realized you could’ve just moved into San’s apartment instead as neither ever went to sleep alone. More often than not, San would crawl into your bed, claiming it was cozier than his, but you knew even the ground would be a great sleeping place as long as you were in his arms. That was precisely what you wanted — to be in San’s arms. Instead you were working another night shift, the most hectic one since the fire incident a couple of weeks ago. 

A young man, no older than twenty, had been in a motorcycle crash, leaving him with severe pain and swelling in his right leg, which was pushed into an unnatural position. The skin was entirely torn off, exposing blood and muscle tissue. You had a suspicion about how severe the situation was, but it still called for an X-ray examination. As expected, the results confirmed multiple fractures of the femur and tibia, requiring surgery the next day at the latest. Changmin, as his driver’s license indicated, was in immense pain and even struggled with breathing difficulties into the night. This left you and your co-workers with no choice but to monitor him closely throughout the remainder of your shift. To say it was tiring would be an understatement. Your feet were so sore it felt like walking on a rug of medical needles and your back ached, begging you to lie in bed and not get up until the birds returned from Southeast Asia.

The only thing pushing you through the long day was the fact that you knew San was waiting on you at home. It didn’t matter if he was awake or not. Your tense muscles relaxed by the thought of burying your face in his chest and forget the world until your batteries were restored again. It became a routine for the both of you. When one had a more physically draining day at work, the other was ready to pamper them and make them feel completely taken care of. 

After a few failed attempts to insert the key into the door, you finally managed to unlock it. A stream of blue light illuminated the otherwise dark apartment and was accompanied by muffled voices coming from the living room. You haphazardly threw your shoes off, not bothering to neatly place them next to one of San’s hundred pairs of sneakers, and instinctively followed the animated sounds that belonged in a cartoon. 

The scene you were met with nearly brought you to tears. San was seated in the middle of the sofa, a fuzzy blanket thrown over his head and shoulders, with two mugs of hot cocoa steaming on the table in front of him. The bag slung over your shoulder slipped off and fell to the floor with a gentle thud. Your jacket — a gift from San’s closet — was at least two sizes too big, making you look like a bear ready to hibernate. The colorful scarf you had been wearing since your teenage years reached up to your nose. San whipped his head in your direction and his stoic expression softened into one of understanding at the sight of fresh tears coating your waterline. His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile that spoke more of compassion than words ever could. 

He quickly lifted one side of the blanket and beckoned you over with a gentle command. “C’mere honey.”

That was the last straw for your tears to start rolling. You wasted no time shedding your outer layers of clothing and curling into San’s side. A sob that you had been holding in throughout the entire car ride home vibrated against his chest. San ran his hand up and down your back while whispered praises tickled your ear. He planted a kiss on your crown and pulled you over him as he fell back against the couch. You adjusted yourself more comfortably, both legs falling on either side of his hips so as not to fall, and he swiftly maneuvered the blanket to shield you from the chilly atmosphere. The minutes ticked by and you had no perception of how long you stayed in that position, but your sobs eventually subdued to soft sniffling. 

“How did you know?”  You whispered, a tremble hanging onto your vocal chords, and sat up. 

San’s hands travelled to rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing circular motions into your flesh. “I just… felt you.”

“Felt me?”

He hummed, “I still do. Happiness, sadness, fear, anger — everything, right here.” His hand hovered over your heart and you understood. You really did. 

There was no scientific explanation for the emotional connection that kept you in tune with each other’s feelings. The unexpected pressure weighing down on your lungs at even the slightest discomfort or worry he experienced, like when he stumbled upon a video of a duckling being separated from its mother. It was uncanny how your heart soared hours before he came home with good news about a promotion, or the unexplainable sense of pride you had been carrying all day — only to discover it was coming from San, who had helped a kitten down from a tree. You’d never forget the day the bitter taste of dandelion greens spread across your tongue, only to find San lying in bed, caving under the weight of his blue emotions. The best part of the connection, though, would be the buckets of love pouring into your bucket as he hugged, kissed and worshipped you. However, there was one emotion you hadn’t received any signs of.

Your fingers found purchase on the hem of his shirt that rode up his stomach and revealed a sliver of the toned skin beneath. “I don’t feel… your anger.”

San flashed you a blinding smile and spurts of daffodils curved around your heart. “That’s because nothing makes me angry, love.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

A beat passed and you sighed, “I’m always angry.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re angry, just… frustrated.”

“It’s practically the same thing,” you argued and continued fiddling with his shirt. He captured your hands in his and halted your anxious picking.

“It isn’t, not by definition. We feel frustrated when we are unable to progress, while anger is the response to something we perceive as wrong or harmful… You’re not angry, my love, you’re frustrated and probably overworked too.”

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you mulled over his words. It made sense, and you didn’t need to voice the comfort it brought you; he felt it. The unruly waves quieted to a steady push-and-pull, letting you breathe as the knot of emotions slowly untangled to nothing.

“You know, I’m supposed to be the older one out of the two of us.”

A hearty laugh filled the previously gloomy room, immediately illuminating the four cold walls, and San caught your waist again as he shifted, the echoes of his laughter filling the space.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. It'd be my honor to make you feel like a teenage girl again.”

That he did. It was almost embarrassing how his sweet gestures had you leaping face first into your pillows and rapidly firing your feet against the comforter. One would believe you were closer to being fifteen than thirty, and while you had a mild crisis, you were still grateful San brought that youthfulness out of you again. 

“Was it a rough day?”

The sentimental moment burst like a fragile soap bubble at the slightest of touches. You took a breath of air and San slid his hand further up your wrists, placing his thumbs in the center of your palms while the remainder of his fingers wrapped around the back of your hand. It was grounding and kept you from re-visiting the gut wrenching thoughts that plagued your mind while tending to the young patient.

“A young guy was rushed to the ER… He got into a motorcycle accident and flew maybe a good ten meters from the crash place, and totally fucked up his leg. It was by sheer luck he didn’t suffer head injuries, let alone injuries to the rest of his body.” 

You still saw the image of his bloodied body and torn clothes, a sight that would leave you with nightmares for days.

“He was in really critical condition, San. We couldn’t leave him alone for even one second. I’m talking about twenty four-hour care… He’s going into surgery tomorrow. He’ll survive, but it’s just... He reminded me of you. How you’re literally in danger every time you go to work and– and how easily I could lose– lose– lose–”

The words caught in your throat as your voice grew higher in pitch. San gave your hands another squeeze and pulled you back down onto him. You wasted no time burying your face in his neck and his arms automatically wrapped around you — one finding purchase at the back of your head while the other securely encircled your back.

“I don’t want to lose you, San.”

“You won’t lose me, love.”

“You don’t know that!”

“What I know is that I always do my best to come back to you in one piece. To my home, no?” The hand that had been placed against your head wrapped around the back of your neck and gently massaged it.

Like a flower opening up to catch the first few sun rays of the day, you put your heart out and allowed San a glimpse of what was inside. 

“It just scared me,” you said between shuddering breaths. “Anything could happen, San, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you–”

“Honey.” His voice wasn’t stern, but it held a certain finality to it. As gentle as a newborn kitten, he carefully eased you back, pulling you away from where your face had been pressed against his neck. With a soft motion, he tilted your head slightly, getting a better look at your face.“Thinking of the what ifs isn’t good for anyone.”

You wanted to reply with an ‘I know’, but you knew better than to lie to him. 

He wiped a stray tear off your cheek and you nuzzled against his palm. “Look, I love that you think you need me, but it’s not true. We managed more than fine on our own and just because we’ve found each other doesn’t mean we can’t function alone anymore… I love that you feel comfortable enough to lean on me, darling, but at the end of the day, you’re strong because of who you are and not because I’m here.

“And if, but just if, anything were to happen to me, I need you to know that you aren’t alone. You’d still have Haneul there. My parents. Your parents. Nurse Kim and Nurse Hwang too. That’s eight more people than me.”

Your hand enveloped his cradling your cheek. “I don’t want to think of a life without you in it.”

“Good because you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever and ever!”

A wet giggle sounded through the living room and San’s rough chuckle blended perfectly with your sweet hiccups. Overwhelmed by the affection filling your humble abode, successfully warming every corner of the apartment, you intertwined your fingers behind San’s neck and determinedly pulled him into a heart-searing kiss. Your mouths molded together in a perfect fit, much like the famous art piece by Auguste Rodin. The sculpture representing a pair of lovers destined to remain together forever, until parted by death.

San breathed life into you with simple gestures that could restore chivalry. His eyes finding yours in a crowded room, silently checking up on you as you were both tugged in opposite directions by your mutual friends. Walking the empty streets after a successful date night, the gentle brush of his fingers skimming over yours before slipping between the gaps and pulling your hand into the pocket of his coat with the excuse of keeping you warm. Slothing his front to your back in the solitude of your home as you’d be too busy for a long cuddle session on the couch. Not to mention the kisses spread throughout the day—morning, noon, and night. He’d see you off with a peck and welcome you with the same sentiment, wishing you a good night or day before taking off.

The memories you collected during your still-new relationship pushed you forward, giving you hope and belief that you were going to get through this. San’s promise of never leaving — intentionally or unintentionally — comforted you and the dreadful thoughts hadn't returned, and hopefully, they wouldn’t ever. But if they ever did reoccur, you knew San would be there to chase them away.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2025. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[destinedfordiapers]

Lavender Haze

“Are you ready, baby?”

You shifted nervously, twiddling your thumbs. You wanted this for as long as you could remember.

All you have to do is say yes.

“It’s okay to be nervous, little one. Mommy knows it’s the biggest little decision you’ll ever make.”

She wasn’t wrong. The post is written. If you hit send your life will never be the same. Everyone will know the truth.

You spit out your paci, letting it dangle from the clip. Your mouth is far too dry for it, anyway.

“S-scared, Mommy.”

“I know, honey. It takes a lot of courage to take a leap of faith, doesn’t it? But aren’t you ready to let go and embrace who you are?”

You nod meekly.

“Baby, look at me. Mommy will never, ever let anything happen to her special boy. You know that, right? Who cares what anyone thinks? You have Mommy! You’re safe with Mommy, wrapped in her love.”

“P-promise?”

“Pinky promise, hun. You belong to Mommy. You’re mine, forever and always. Mommy will take care of your every need and fix every problem. I’ll protect your sweet innocence from the big bad world, I promise. You’ll never have to pretend to be a big boy ever again.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, though you can’t tell if it’s from excitement—or fear.

One simple yes—just one—and you’ll never have to make another decision ever again.

You’ll get everything you ever wanted.

So why won’t your brain let your mouth say the word?

“All you need to do is surrender to Mommy, baby. Let the world know you are Mommy’s. Wholly and irrevocably mine. Mommy will take care of the rest. Your utter dependence on me is the greatest gift you can ever give me.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is! I love you, baby. More than you could ever understand. Do you know how proud I am to be your Mommy? How hard it is to hide the best part of you from everyone? I am the luckiest woman in the world!”

She’s proud of you?

You feel yourself stand a bit taller.

“Aren’t you tired of living a lie? Babies shouldn’t be going to work! Or paying bills. You’re too small for any responsibility. This isn’t the life you deserve! Let Mommy give you the life you always wanted. As Mommy’s forever baby.”

“Mommy will be your whole world. You’ll be free, baby. No more cell phones, no more social media, no adult TV, no more doomscrolling. Nothing but the joyful innocence of your nursery. Nothing but cuddles, bubble baths, and cartoons.”

“Mommy will take care of everything. Everything. You’ll be Mommy’s baby—and only Mommy’s baby. Mommy will keep your diapie clean, your belly full of nummies, and swaddle you in your crib every evening. Just like the baby you are.”

A smile spreads across your face, only to falter soon after.

“But Mommy…it’s not fair! You have to do everything and I…I...”

She walks over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug. The seat of your diaper crinkles as she rubs it.

“Sweetie, I want this. Nothing in this world makes me happier than caring for you. All I need is to hear your laughter as I blow raspberries on your tummy. To smell the baby powder wherever you waddle. To see the pure joy in your eyes as you live your authentic life!”

Tears trickle down your face. You instinctively hide your face.

“No, baby. Don’t hide your tears from Mommy. You’re my baby. Babies cry. You don’t need to be ashamed of your feelings anymore.”

You sniffle, eyes full of tears. “S-sorry, Mommy…”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Just remember you’re not a big boy anymore. That means no more big-boy expectations. Mommy expects you to behave like the baby you are, silly!”

“Hehe, okay Mommy!”

“Good boy. Now, are those happy tears or sad tears, honey?”

“Happy!”

“Awww, just what Mommy wanted to hear! Now, baby. Can you be a big boy for just a little longer? I need you to understand that I want this as much as you. I will never abandon you. That I will always be there for you. Can you say, ‘Yes, Mommy’ if you understand?”

You smile at her, cheeks glistening with tears and a small snot bubble forming.

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Good boy! And you understand that once we hit send, you’ll never be a big boy again? You’ll listen to everything Mommy says and trust her to do what’s best for you?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“You’re okay with giving up every adult privilege you’ve ever had—no exceptions? No more car, no more bars, no more sports, no more sex? Giving your privacy and independence to Mommy? And saying bye-bye to the potty, forever?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Okay, baby. As long as you understand there’s no turning back! You want that, right?”

“I want that, Mommy! I love you!”

Mommy's eyes fill with tears as she hugs you again.

“I’m the luckiest Mommy in the world! I have my baby boy!”

“YAYAYAYA!”

“You’re so cute, little one! Ready to push send?”

“YEAH! PUSH IT! PUSH IT!”

“Okay, honey, here we go! You’re new life starts…now!”

Mommy never let you see what people commented on the post—but you couldn’t care less.

You didn’t have to hide anymore. You didn’t have to pretend. You were Mommy’s baby. Now and forever.

Mommy knows best, after all!

[whispersinthewaters]

Lil List Of Offerings <3

Offerings for Aphrodite

🩷🕊️🪞🐚

Honey, Wine, Cacao (upg), Hot chocolate (upg), Chocolate, Strawberries, Apples (especially golden ones), Roses, Anemones, Swan imagery, Dove imagery, Rose quartz, Mirrors, Jewelry, Amethyst, Blue lace agate (upg), Ruby (raw or gem, doesn't matter but one is DEFINITELY cheaper), Hair brush, Un used makeup (she does not like it if you keep used makeup on her altar in my experience, upg) Heart imagery, Valentines day gifts (upg), Pomegranate, SHELLS SHELLS SHELLS (she loves em!), Perfume, Water (preferably ocean, salt, or moon water), Paintings of her or the ocean(esp if you made it), Love letters, Rose hips, Raspberries, sweet pastries, Rose thorns, Oysters, Cherubs (upg), Moonstone (upg), rosewater, rosehip oil, hair/skincare stuff, angel depictions (upg), sparrow imagery, goose imagery, ect.

Devotional acts

🩷🕊️🪞🐚

Taking a bath devoted to her, Spending time with a loved one, Visiting the ocean (if your inland a big Lake maybe??), Blowing a kiss to yourself, Pour your heart out to someone, Self care, Spread love, Donate to women's shelters, making a Pinterest board, ect.

Note: this is just from my personal experience, take with a grain of salt!

[bumblesimagines]

maybe i have a crush on you. so what?

what? me? jealous? never.

- Jinx

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Mild/Implied possessive behavior

The air smelled heavily of perfumes and incense, hiding the stench of liquor and sweat that clung to the brothel walls. While he much preferred the smell of alcohol and cigar smoke over the sickly sweet scent wafting through the halls and rooms, (Y/N) put up with it for the sake of destressing from his long, tiresome weeks of work. The pay was decent and his bosses were fair, but Gods, he wanted a day off without having to deal with one idiot or another. At least he could put a bullet in them from time to time.

Swaying her hips as she walked over, Blossom carefully settled down on his lap without spilling any wine from the cup in hand. She offered one of her carefully curated smiles and brushed her knuckles over his cheek, her brows knitting together with feigned sympathy. "You look rough, honey." She murmured, lifting the cup toward his lips. "Must be tough working for a man like Silco."

"Silco isn't the problem." He sighed heavily and wrapped his fingers around the cup, tilting it to fill his mouth with the sweet-tasting wine. 

While Silco was a stern man who ruled the Lanes with an iron fist and intolerance to disrespect, he was an accommodating boss who paid his most trusted subordinates well. (Y/N) never ran into any problems with the Chem-Baron or Sevika; he considered them people he'd take a bullet for. The only nuisance (apart from the other Chem-Barons and braindead Zaunites) who seemingly enjoyed making his life difficult was none other than an old childhood friend. Jinx.

Gods, just thinking about her gave him a headache.

His fingers danced along the sheer silk covering Blossom's thigh, a more delicate sigh escaping him when the warmth of the wine spread through his chest. Blossom clicked her tongue disapprovingly at his exhaustion and moved her hands to his shoulders, her lithe body twisting around to fully straddle his lap as she began kneading her fingers into his muscles. She grinned when he practically melted into the chair and chuckled softly, inching her face closer and closer-

The door to the room abruptly slammed open, causing the small chandelier above them to swing from the force. Instinctively, (Y/N) reached for his gun and curled his arm around Blossom's waist as he stood up from the chair to aim at whichever asshole had interrupted his precious downtime. 

"Thought I'd find you here." 

"Ugh." (Y/N) glared at the blue-haired girl standing in the doorway with a far from impressed look on her pale face. Her blue eyes flickered rapidly between them, creases slowly forming between her brows and lips tugging into a deep frown. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for another one of your stupid ideas. Sevika already gave me shit for not babysitting you better."

Silently, Jinx strolled into the room, her long braids swaying with her movements and just barely brushing over the floor. She gave a quiet huff and blew her bangs out of her face, her narrowed eyes zeroing in on Blossom with the kind of malice (Y/N) only saw on occasion before she pushed her body against Blossom. The hooker stumbled backward and plopped onto the chair with a soft 'oof!', a brief scowl forming on her lips before she thought better of it. 

"Silco needs ya," Jinx answered simply, her head tilting to look at him. "Sevika's busy."

(Y/N) scoffed. He'd walked into the brothel with Sevika. "Oh, bullshit. You just like ruining my day with your damn jealousy." He rolled his eyes, the sucked-in breath from Blossom falling on deaf ears as he made his way to the door with the intent to ruin Sevika's night as well. He'd be damned if he were the only one getting cockblocked.

"What? Me? Jealous?" Jinx blew a raspberry, her boots stomping on the floorboards and following him out into the hallway. Whatever irritation she'd held toward Blossom promptly vanished, a more light-hearted tone lacing her voice. "Never."

Spinning around and backing her into the nearest wall, (Y/N) loomed over her with a scowl, itching to yank her braids clean off her scalp. "Ever since Finn opened his damn mouth about me coming here, you've been showing up to ruin my damn night again and again."

Her lips pressed into a line, her bony shoulders rising and falling with a lazy shrug. It only fueled the bubbling anger in his veins. "Maybe I have a crush on you. So what?" She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest, the slightest hint of color rising onto her cheeks. 

(Y/N) swore his eye twitched. "Maybe I would be into it if you weren't such a pain in the ass." He hissed lowly and leaned away from the girl he once called friend, his eyes automatically rolling when her features predictably lit up. "I don't want to hear it, Jinx. Just tell me what Silco wants and get out of my sight."

[orcboxer]

I'm a huge fan of little woodland creatures that are also monks. They are in the abbey eating raspberry tarts and candied chestnuts and honey-and-blackberry pie and toasted cheese on oatcakes and loaves of almond bread warm and fresh from the ovens spread with clover butter and drinking october ale and strawberry cordial and elderberry wine

[drysdalesworld]

the orange peel theory

series masterlist

pairing: mom!reader x dad!william eklund (featuring son!oc)

genre: fluff

warning(s): unless you count tooth rotting fluff, then watch out!

note(s): i’m literally obsessed with dad!william eklund it’s a problem atp (i’m making a series trust)

You had seen the trend on TikTok first.

A woman had asked her boyfriend to peel her orange for her. He did so with little compliant and peeled it for her, giving it back to her with a kiss. It was cute. A couple more videos doing the same trend had followed after. You felt compelled to try it out, buying a bag of oranges from the market a day prior.

“William?” You asked, grabbing an orange from the opened bag of oranges. “Could you peel the orange for me? I don’t like the sticky feeling on my hands”.

William had peeked his head over the couch, watching some hockey highlights on his phone. He eyed the fruit in your hand, a gentle smile spreading on his lips as he quickly hopped from his position on the couch, abandoning his phone.

“Of course, älskling (darling)!”.

He gently took the orange from your hand and began to meticulously peel it, making sure not to rip the orange peel too roughly so the juice wouldn’t splatter on you.

The sound of little feet running caught your attention, Oskar pattering up to you as he tugged on the bottom of your shirt.

“Can I peel an orange for you too, mama?” He asked, eyes darting from his Father peeling an orange to you with a pleading look.

“But why, honey? Papa is already peeling one for me,” you asked, hand coming down to pat down his unruly hair.

“Because Papa is doing it for you! And I want to do it for you too,” he answered, a small pout on his lips as he wrapped his arms around your leg.

Your heart soared at his reasoning, handing him an orange of his own to peel.

“C’mere bud, I’ll show you how to peel it to mama’s liking,” William stated, picking up his son with one arm to gently place him on the marble counter.

Oskar giggled in delight as he sat on the edge of the counter, holding his orange in both hands as he kicked his legs back and forth.

You smiled at the sight. William was patient in his instructions, showing your son how to properly peel an orange without damaging the fruit inside. Oskar had stuck his tongue out in focus, deliberately copying his Fathers movements as he peeled back the orange covering.

You knew that the trend had something to do with proving the kind of love you had between you and your partner as peeling an orange is a small task that many wouldn’t think twice about. So it was beautiful to watch two of the people you loved most in the world peel oranges for you without a second thought.

You placed a soft kiss to the crown of your son’s head as he held up his freshly peeled orange, thanking him as you took it. Oskar only giggled and kissed the hand that took the orange.

William had presented his orange, free of any peel and from any of the stringy bits. He put it on a napkin before handing it to you, kissing your lips as he did so.

“Eww,” Oskar giggled, tiny hands over his mouth as he laughed from the affection his parents displayed.

William only smirked and gathered his son into his arms, blowing raspberries into his neck as Oskar shrieked and giggled. “Someday, you’ll have to peel oranges for your partner, Os. And it’ll be the best thing in the world,” William spoke, shooting you a glance and a smirk.

You could only smile and watch as your son continued to giggle and squirm in your husband’s arms as he ran around the kitchen making airplane noises, allowing you to eat your two perfectly peeled oranges in peace.

In the end, you had double the oranges you wanted, but still ate nonetheless, and double the love and affection from the two people who mattered the most.

[quintinh43]

Stressed Spelled Backward Is Desserts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn comes home to his girlfriend stress baking.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Warnings: Food, Flirting, Fluff, use of terms like baby, honey, love.

Notes: Hi guys!! Holy moly, I did not expect my last post to have so many interactions!! I'm glad yall liked it. Anyways, here's another one! If there's anything else yall think should go in warnings, please let me know! Also, I'm thinking of making a part 2 to this one, so if yall are interested, please let me know! I hope yall enjoyyy. Love Soph.

---

Usually, the sound of the apartment door opening would be enough to draw your attention away from what you were doing and greet Quinn with a kiss at the door. Although with the music in the background, the consistent buzz of the stand mixer and the kitchen fan going, you didn't register it.

The first thing Quinn noticed was the smell. It smelt like sweet heaven. Cookies, maybe..? The second thing he noticed was all the different noises. The kitchen fan, the music, a weird buzzing, and what sounded like you mixing something in a metal bowl.

Quinn toed off his shoes, hung up his keys, and peaked into the kitchen cautiously. You were indeed mixing something in a metal bowl. That's when Quinn noticed the absolute massive amount of cookies spread out on the kitchen island. There must've been at least five different kinds.

He turned off the music, and as soon as he did, you whipped around and crashed into his chest, not expecting him to be so close. He grabbed your arms to stop you from stumbling backward.

"Hi," he smiles fondly, pecking you on the forehead.

"Hello," you grin, bumping your head against his chest in greeting.

"Whats all this?" He asks as you wriggle out of his arms to go back to mixing what Quinn assumes is icing or filling of some kind.

"I was stressed," you shrug, as if that explained it.

Quinn looks at you with a raised brow. He sits on the bar stool, shrugging off his suit jacket, loosening his tie and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt "That doesn't explain why it looks like a bakery threw up in our kitchen." He says, plucking a cookie off the plate.

He bites into it and resists the urge to moan out loud. It was still warm from the oven, and the chocolate was warm and melty. On the second bite, he actually moaned out loud because holy shit, there was caramel in the middle.

"You like it?" You giggle

"Mhmm," Quinn mumbles around a mouthful of cookie. You watch him lick chocolate off his thumb, and he gives you a wink that has you blushing.

"You still never answered my question, Love," Quinn says, eyes roaming to the next cookie he wanted to try.

"You've never heard of stress baking?" You ask, holding out a spoon of what looks like raspberry mush for him to try. He leans over the counter and lets you feed him. He smacks his lips together, making a sour face, and you laugh.

"Never in my life, but I think I like the concept." He says, snatching what looks like a white macadamia nut cookie off a cooling rack. "But still, what are we gonna do with all of these? There's no way we can eat this much cookies between the two of us. There must be at least five dozen!"

"Probably closer to eight dozen," you say sheepishly. As if on cue, the oven timer beeps. You don the oven mitts and pull another tray of cookies out of the oven.

Quinns eyes widen, "That's like...ninety-six cookies"

"One hundred and four actually"

"What? No? Eight by twelve -"

"Thirteen," you interrupt

"Love, a dozen is twelve." Quinn says, watching as you mix the raspberry lemon jam thing into cookie, another batch of cookie dough.

"A bakers dozen is thirteen." Quinn's eyes go wide.

"Damn. I don't know if I should be concerned about what's causing you so much stress or if I should start stressing you out once in a while for the sake of some dessert." He jokes.

"Oh honey, you don't have to stress me out, to bake for you. I will bake you whatever you want whenever you want. All you gotta do is ask." You pause in thought for a moment "and maybe fuck me" you add with a mischievous grin.

Quinn grins leaning over the counter "baby i'll fuck you whenever you want, wherever you want, however you want, all you gotta do is ask."

You roll your eyes at him, unable to keep the smile off your face. "You wanna lick the spoon?" You ask, holding the jam spoon out to him.

"I wanna lick you," he grins, closing his lips over the spoon. A blush instantly rises to your cheeks, and you flick the end of the spoon that hangs out of his mouth. He groans as it clangs against his teeth, dropping it onto the counter as you laugh at him.

"Go change and come help me," you say, leaning over the counter to kiss him. He kisses you back happily "yes chef" he murmers against your lips.

He kisses you one more time before disappearing into the bedroom to change. He comes back out dressed in a black henly and grey sweats, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

If you hadn't just made over one hundred cookies, you'd be having Quinn as your snack because holy shit did he look fine. Damn you were lucky to have him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Quinn asks a little self conscious, as he dons the apron you hand him.

"I'm just thinking about how I'm so lucky to have you." You smile, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss to his lips. He wraps an arm around you, not letting you pull away. He tastes like raspberry. 

"I love you Y/n" he murmers against your lips with a grin.

"I love you too," you say, bumping your hip against his, "come on, these cookies aren't gonna shape themselves"

"So bossy." he chuckles, getting to work beside you. He stands close enough so that your hips and arms are brushing against each other as you work.

After a few hours, a flour fight, a couple dozen more cookies, a thorough scrubbing of the kitchen and a shower, you and Quinn lay on the couch with a half eaten plate of cookies infront of you.

"Y/n love, what are we gonna do with a hundred cookies?"

You sigh. That was a problem you'd been trying to solve for the past while. You couldn't very well throw them out. "Could we give them to the team?"

Quinn taps his chin in thought, "I don't want them to know how good of a baker my girl is, or they might try to steal you from me"

"Don't worry, they couldn't take me from you if they tried." You smile, pressing a kiss to chin,"but seriously, can we give them to the team?"

Quinn sighs dramatically. "Yes, I suppose we can. They are gonna have to do extra laps for them, though"

"Yay!" You jump up from the couch, dragging Quinn with you, to help box up all the cookies for him to take to practice later. After boxing up all the cookies and helping Quinn take them to his car, you kiss him goodbye and reluctantly go back to your studying.

As soon as you open your laptop, you sigh, remembering why you decided to bake a hundred cookies instead of work on this stupid shit. You text Quinn to have a good practice, and with that, you get back to work.

---

Wc: 1.2k

[cinhomi]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lee Minho x fem reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: use of sexual toys, fingering, unprotected sex!

thinking about how Minho makes you sit on his lap, both of you completely naked after a long day. he's inhaling the scent of your shampoo, the same one he uses too, as the hand that isn't busy caressing your side pats the bed near him searching for the right toy between the vast collection he displayed on top of your royal purple sheets.

"let me make it better kitty, just trust me," his fingers lingering on the crystal-clear silicone mint tinted dildo he bought for you recently, "now, be a good girl and let me do my thing, hmm?"

you feel the smooth and cold plastic pat your clit few times, Minho's smirk against your shoulder and his breath fanning on your neck as he looks at you from the big mirror in front of you two. the phallic shape isn't that different from the one of his cock, and now that you see it better, you know why he spent half an hour riling you up and still poured a generous amount of lube on your puffy, excited cunt. the room smells like raspberries now.

"you're a good kitty right? gonna take it all for me..." he whispers, nodding in delight as he starts to thrust the dildo up your entrance, slow but steady, and it being crystal-like lets him see your little hole make a big stretch. Minho doesn't even know if he's doing this for you or for him at this point, he just knows that his cock is rock hard against the curve of your ass.

thinking about his hand tightly wrapped around the base where the fake not-so-well-made balls are, and he takes his time to direct your face to the mirror's direction, your cheeks being squished by his still lubed hand.

Minho starts to pick up speed. his arm blocks your whole chest, it presses you down and you can't help but spread your legs wider. the fake veins are prominent, you can feel them well, but they don't pulse like the ones of your boyfriend. the thing intrudes inside you and hits various delicate spots, yes, but it's a shame that your lover's precum is being wasted on the smaller of your back, on his thighs. what Minho's cock can't do though, is having this kind of speed. despite resembling a pornstar when he dances, his hips could never allow him such rhythm... his pumped bicep instead, is well trained and can endure a speed that makes your head spin.

thinking about the sweet words he tells you as you melt against him, pliant, a whimpering mess as you let him abuse your cunt with the toy. he goes progressively futher, the whole lenght disappearing inside you and the tips of his fingers are brushing your folds. the grip of your hand on his thighs is addicting, scratching, leaving red prints on his honey skin. "is my kitty cat feelin' good?"

you can't even speak, nodding against the cunjucture between his neck and shoulder. when his free hand catches your soft breasts he purrs in delight and starts to massage them, closing his fingers between your nipples and delicately rolling them to have you spasm over him. he loves it so much, when he makes you feel so much pleasure you become a brainless little thing, when you start to sniffle and sweet fat tears adorn your eyes.

his heavy breaths accompany your mewls and the squelching sound. his eyes are fixed on your pussy, avidly taking in the reflected images in front of him. your juices drip down your thighs until they reach his, and they squirt when he pushes the toy in and out. you're floating, your coscience isn't anywhere near reach at the moment, it's just silicone inside you and sweet degrading words, teeth biting your tender flesh.

Minho suddenly stops moving, the toy deep inside you, his hands roaming and groping everywhere. your whines and protests do nothing to him. "I know what is better for you kitty cat, be quiet 'n let me work, mh?" stern tone and serious eyes as you interrupt his playtime. he slowly takes his fingers on your neglected clit, peaking all cute and engorged from your folds for him to circle like an ancient torture.

you're full and stimulated, so it's only natural that your orgasm is so hard the dildo slips out of your cute little pussy and Minho has to replace it with three of his fingers, adding pressure upwards on that spot that makes your eyes cross </3 it's cruel the way he laughs.

"feelin' better?"

"you think you can take Minnie's cock now, kitty cat?"

"atta girl, now turn around 'n lay on my chest f'me hm? okay?"

as he effortlessly sinks into you, hissing, closing his eyes, breathing in your scent and kissing your collarbone, you know that cold sylicone will never ever compare.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

There's tons of fruit leather recipes online but this is the jist of all of them:

Put your fruit into a blender or food processor, blend till smooth with sweetener to taste (like maple syrup or honey). (I had to add water. Probably bc I froze the raspberries)

Spread onto a baking sheet lined with baking paper about ⅛ inch thick.

Bake at the lowest temp your oven can go for about 6-8 hours.

wait that's so easy this is game changing

[bluepoodle7]

#KrogerJumboBiscuitsButtermilk #BonneMaman #BonneMamanStrawberryPreserves #StrawberryPreserves #BonneMamanRaspberryPreserves #RaspberryPreserves #FruitPreserves##Meijer #MeijerCreamyWithHoneyPeanutButterSpread#KrogerHoneyCrunchyRoastedPeanutButter#SpamBaconSpamTocinoMeijerCreamyWithHoneyPeanutButterAndKrogerHoneyCrunchyRoastedPeanutButterMixedFruitPreservesBiscuitReview

I tried these Kroger jumbo buttermilk biscuits with Bonne Maman strawberry & raspberry preserves, Meijer Creamy With Honey Peanut Butter Spread & Kroger honey crunchy roasted peanut butter, Spam bacon, and Spam Tocino.

This is part 2.

Part 1

A blog about obscurity stuff, plushies and food. on Tumblr

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Well well well.

As ever will offer a bit of everything, be it for at-home chefs, budding hosts, or those simply looking to add sparks of joy to the everyday. The inaugural collection showcases eight products that Meghan has personally developed over the past year, drawing on her years of home cooking and entertaining (which included her previous lifestyle blog, The Tig). Each piece is thoughtfully and intentionally chosen, and As ever will introduce new items seasonally.

The first collection of products will include:

Raspberry Spread in Specialty Canister

Herbal Lemon Ginger Tea

Herbal Peppermint Tea

Herbal Hibiscus Tea

Flower Sprinkles

Crêpe Mix

Shortbread Cookie Mix with Flower Sprinkles

Limited-Edition Wildflower Honey with Honeycomb

Launching in spring 2025 on AsEver.com, the collection will be available for purchase nationwide, in all 50 states.

[mraprilfools]

Title: A Snowy Day Off

Pairing: Old!Vox x Wife!Reader

Contents/Warnings: Domestic Fluff, LIKE so much Domestic Fluff, Kissing, Tickling, Brief Suggestive themes

Length: 2.8k

Summary: A long awaited day off has come and you spend it by going shopping together in town! The two of you end up enjoying a nice quiet day together in the snow, dinner, and even watching television together.

A/N: I don't have an excuse. That box headed dork is too cute.

It didn’t snow every year in hell. It was a rarity that you had come to appreciate, banishing the otherwise oppressive heat of the underworld. Dressed in a heavy winter coat, neck wrapped with a new scar, mufflers, gloves, and fur boots. Your husband didn’t leave much to chance to make sure you stayed warm when you went out. But a streak of mischievousness inspired you to break away from his side. A punishment for his audacity for letting go of your hand! You stepped down Cannibal Town to fall against a pile of untouched powdered snow. Crystals flew into the air, sparkling as they caught the light.

The crimson expanse above felt almost light thanks to the warm tickling of your chest. The snow crunched beneath your body, and with liberated joy from your overprotective husband, you raised your arms and spread your legs creating a snow demon in the snow. The several layers you wore couldn’t protect you from the direct impact of the snow, sending you a familiar chill that reminded you of the touch of your beloved.

The snow clung to your clothes, weighing you down. But, you didn’t mind it one bit. The rapid sound of footsteps crunching snow in the distance inspired a guilty grin on your face, teeth on full display. A shadow swallowed the light, with the faint glow of your husband's screen being the only reason you can see his face underneath the parasol protecting his very vulnerable water head.

“There you are, dear...” Vox sighed, exasperated. The monochrome face smiled at the sight of you, hunching down beside you. “I turned around and you were nowhere to be found!”

“Yep. I decided I wanted to make a snow angel, but I knew you’d stop me.”

Vox narrowed his eyes, spinning the parasol in his hand. The shadow it cast danced across your view, feeling as if days and nights were passing over you if you simply closed your eyes. “And why would I stop you?”

“You’ll catch a cold dear! Let me put at least five more scarves on you!” You taunted him, trying to imitate his voice. A bit of a trial with the thick TV filter it had.

“Ah.” Vox scoffed. “Well excuse me for worrying about my wife’s well-being. It’s not like I have first-hand experience with how miserable you get in public.”

You sucked in a breath, shifting your gaze away. “Never happened! I’m a FIERCE independent woman when I’m sick! I don’t need no man.”

“Voooox, I’m cold. Can you turn on the head blanket? Make me chicken noodle soup! I’m so bored of sleeping, read me a story.” It was Vox’s turn to impersonate you. You puffed out your cheeks in response. A claw affectionately poked at the right one until you blew out a raspberry at him.

“I can’t feel the cold, honey. Besides the clothes make sure we don’t get stuck together.” Vox flexed his hands, drawing attention to his own body.

“It’s not like I’m blowing you in public. Also-- I don’t think it’d… stick?”

Vox’s face immediately turned white, the flush on his face masking the speckles of white on his screen. Nervous laughter bubbled forth. “Let’s not test that out. That would be too embarrassing to have to go to the clinic for.” You broke out into laughter with him, throwing your arm over your eyes. The mental image of sitting in the waiting room was enough to make you lurch forward and hug yourself.

Vox caught your back, holding your back before you could fall back down. The handle of the umbrella was pushed into your hands, which you grasped onto with a question obvious in the way you knit your brows. Vox needed the parasol to protect himself from having snow and water get into his head. You were far more resistant.

“Hold still honey, you’ve got snow in your hair.” His hands reached for the top of your head, brushing away the accumulated snow that was quickly becoming chilly when it melted and ran down the back of your neck.

Silently you obliged, focusing on watching his face when his brows knit in concentration. Vox had this habit of always revealing a single tooth on the right side of his mouth when he was truly absorbed in something. The habit revealing itself inspired a smile, one that pulled Vox from his task to match his dark gray eyes with yours. That familiar blush returned, more intense than ever.

“What are you staring at?”

“You.”

A garbled noise like static erupted from his speakers, the hand on the back of your head pulling you forward so your face was pushed into the cushion of his chest. You naturally wrapped your arms around him, navigating the parasol to keep his safe safe from the snow above.

“Stay here for a moment dear… I just want to hold you.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. The feel of his hands tracing down your hair, brushing the snow off your back, and the static of his screen against the top of your head were all familiar sensations that made you think of home. You shifted in his arms, a motion that signaled him to ease back. Settling your hand on his shoulder, you tugged him forward. Vox took the hint, weaving his claws between the locks of your hair to act as a natural barrier so he could cradle your face.

Safe from the bitter cold, the glass screen came closer until your nose and forehead bumped against it. The head is one of the places that would always be safe thanks to the head it always exerted. You loved touching it during the winter months just to warm up your hands. He always complained, but you knew he secretly loved the attention.

Vox’s hands found their familiar place beneath your skull as he guided your lips to lay on top of his. You tugged the parasol down, using it as a natural barrier from the rest of the world while you shared an innocent kiss with your husband. It was a simple mingling of lips brushing against one another through breathy giggles.

“Let’s get you home. I’ll draw you a bath so you can warm back up. Aaand how about some chicken noodle soup for lunch?” Vox asked while the area between his eyes remained pressed against your forehead.

You wrinkled your nose. “I’m cold, not sick! Any warm meal will do. If YOU’RE cooking though…” With a cocky grin, you fussed with the scarf wrapped around his neck. A dark blue scarf that matched your own monogrammed with both of your initials. “How about my favorite?”

“I could be convinced.” Vox began, a dark gray sharkish smile stretching across his screen. “If you’ll… give me a back massage tonight.”

“Hmm… I get a home-cooked meal from my husband. AND I get a free excuse to touch his sexy body after. Too late to change your mind though, deal!”

That same blush returned, with Vox clicking his tongue as his claws continued to thread through your hair. Knocking away the remnants of the show. “Not as beautiful as yours.”

What should have been a fifteen-minute walk to pick up some eggs had become an adventure of gluttony. The two of you ended up getting muffins and fresh bread from the baker too. Then when a confectioner caught your eye, Vox couldn’t help but tempt you to give in and spoil yourself. The bags in your hands were far heavier than any of you expected, or so you suspected. You had left Vox to carry it all while he trusted his life in your hands with the parasol.

Vox ended up having the right idea in the end. The bath right after turning from the cold ended up being heavenly. Feeling the dreadful chill that made you feel numb and tingled with the heat of the water. You had to palm handfuls of water to first acclimate your face that was the worst. Your nose felt like it was about to fall off! The hot water unfortunately didn’t last long, but it encouraged you to get washed up and out of the bath.

A bathrobe had been left out on the counter for you to slip into once you dried off with the towel. It was warm to the touch. Vox must have run it through the dryer for a few minutes for you. The warmth of the gesture warmed you to the very heart as you wrapped it around your shoulders. Dinner was ready by the time you left the bathroom, giving you a fantastic chance to see Vox wrapped up in that pink and white frilly apron he originally got because he wanted to see you wearing it.

Vox sighed dramatically, bending over like he was picking something up. “Can’t even cook a meal for my beautiful wife without her trying to sexualize me because I’m so cute in an apron. Well, go ahead and spank me if you have to.”

“Pfft! I just thought you looked very cute. I wasn’t thinking you were sexy at all.”

“N-not even a little?” He asked the frown on his face was even worse with how large those digital eyes grew. You covered your mouth to suppress the snickering.

“Ok, a little sexy. I could see myself bending you over the counter and fucking you.” You came up behind Vox, grabbing hold of his hips to send his rear smack against your hips.

“Oooh!” Vox squealed as girlishly as he could fake it, holding his claws up to his mouth like he were genuinely in shock. “Ruffian!”

It was a peaceful everyday life with the two of you even settling in together to watch your favorite show ‘I Love Luci’, the hit show based on the Morningstars! A show that Vox had directed personally, getting inspiration from your own boring domestic life. It was strangely entertaining!

Was a little narcissistic? Yes. But, you enjoyed watching a glorified version of your own married life on the television. It had far more drama, and some of the conflicts were exaggerated in a way that now that it was over the two of you could both laugh at it. A warm bath, a hot meal, and snuggling with Vox on the couch was exactly all you needed to end up drifting to sleep snuggled under a blanket.

You hadn’t even intended on it. While watching a re-run you mentally said to yourself, ‘I’ll close my eyes for five minutes’. You didn’t even last five seconds. When you next opened your eyes you were already being carried to the bedroom. With half-open eyes, you sleepily smiled at him.

“Good morning Princess.”

“Mmn… it better still be evening. If you left me to sleep on the couch all night I’ll uh...” You faltered, your sluggish mind still not fully awake yet. Vox flashed that toothy smile.

“Very threatening dear. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so cute I want to cuddle with you all night! But-- you got lucky. The show only ended five minutes ago.”

He laid you out on the bed, a type of spoiling you happily too even accepting his help to remove your robe and slip into some silken pajamas. His lips lingered on yours as he pulled in your top, pushing you back into the bed with his weight crashing upon you. The springs creaked with the protest of two bodies in one place, your arms locked around his body feeling the most safe with his weight on top of yours.

“Too sleepy to give me that backrub you promised?” Vox asked.

“Kiiinda.” You admitted. You bent your head into the crook of his neck, pulling down the turtleneck to kiss the exposed thick tangle of wires that ran into his head. It was a type of intimacy that made Vox lock up for a second, then relax when your kisses would tickle the base of his throat.

“You’re too sleepy for that too then, honey.”

“Tch...” You clucked your tongue, falling back against the sheets. With half-opened eyes you stretched out your hands to grasp the side of the box, staring into his digital face. “Why are you so cute?!”

A furious flush covered his screen. His eyes shifted away as his lips down-turned in a petulant pout. “I’m not cute. I’m cool.”

“You’re not cool. You’re a dork and cute as well.”

“Wh--!” Vox scoffed, shooting you a glare. “Shouldn’t you think your husband is the coolest?”

“Nah- I married the biggest dork. He has this dorky smile whenever I tell him I love him, he has the silliest freckles, and he stutters when I bully him.” You proudly proclaimed, watching the utter betrayal in his widened eyes.

“N-I! You know what!” Vox hiked up your top until it only covered your chest and tickled your sides with the back of his claws. Immediately the ticklish sensation had you squirming beneath him, clamping down on his shoulder with one hand, and the other trying to pin down the hand tickling your side.

“N-NO! STOP! PFFHAHAHA! STOP! NOO! VOX!”

An evil maniacal laugh rang out. “Not until you say I’m cool!”

Stuck between your pride and Vox’s, you tried to hold back as long as possible. Twisting your body, trying to roll over, anything to avoid the ticklish sensation. But as it became hard to breathe, you beat the bed and begged him. “OK! OK! STOP STOP!”

With panted breath, he did as you asked. Leaving his hand to wander by your side with full intent to continue if you didn’t give him what he wanted. There were two dark strips trailing down his evil smirk knowing he had you in a checkmate.

“You’re… the coolest man I know! O.K!”

“NOW I know you’re lying.” Vox scoffed, rolling his eyes. But that familiar lack of color on his face was a tell-tale sign of otherwise. Not to mention he was making that same dorky smile you just made fun of him for.

“Now I’m not even sleepy anymore. You tickled it out of me!” You whined, “I was so comfy and happy too. Ruined it.”

Realizing his mistake, Vox’s smile soured. He reached onto his side to pull down the zipper for his turtleneck and pulled it off. The trousers came off and stripped down to his boxers he laid down in the bed beside you and opened up the blankets in an open offer for a cuddle.

An offer you gave a stink eye initially. But who were you to deny cuddles? Like a wounded dog, you wandered in and allowed him to wrap an arm around your waist and hug you flush against his body. A small throw pillow was pulled over, settled over his arm to act as a cushion for your head. One you gratefully took.

“This help?” Vox asked.

“A little...” You confessed. Laid onto your side, her palms slid over the smooth skin of the man beside you. The firm muscles flexed under your touch. The texture wasn’t the same throughout. On his ribs, there were these indents of glass where a faint blue light glowed. It was smooth like glass. While you explored his body, his claws brushed over your back, running his claws up and down your back with the cover of the silk pajamas protecting your skin.

With his screen tucked in close, Vox whispered, “Can I get that back massage in the morning?”

“I… think that can be arranged. But you and I both know it won’t just be a backrub.”

“When is it ever?” Vox guiltily admitted, with a hint of laughter in his voice. The faint buzz of his static was a prelude to the kiss pressed against your temple. It always took a few minutes for the sheets to get warm enough that you could comfortably sleep. But the warm heat of the box pressed against your head helped.

“Good night dear. I love you, Vox.”

“I love you too, good night.”

When you shut your eyes, you focus listening to the white noise of the fans in his head and inside of his body lulling you into a renewed sense of security. You were far too excited from the tickling, so you let your hands continue to wander across his side. Tracing the dips and curves of his body, occasionally shifting when you tickled him somewhere. Glass pressed against your cheek as his face snuggled closer to yours.

A sensation that you first found odd, but found familiar now. If you never knew what it was like to nuzzle faces with somebody with a real face? You’d be happy. With that thought lingering in the back of your mind, you were once again pulled under for real to sleep.

[captain-mj]

Wrote this at a laundromat so I hope you guys like it

Ghost had just moved to Scotland to get away from everything. His family's murders stayed a constant thought in his mind, but more than that, he didn't want anyone still loyal to Roba to find him. After wiping them off the map, he decided to do something he never thought possible.

Chose himself.

So he made his way to Scotland where no one would know Simon Riley and he bought a house and lived next to a small town so he could go over and get whatever supplies he needed before coming to hide again.

That's where he met him.

A local man who apparently was involved in the church and was in general a great person.. Most people referred to him as Soap, which Ghost thought was a very strange name, but he had also heard MacTavish which seemed more realistic.

The man saw Ghost, probably decided he was emotionally vulnerable, and decided to skulk around him. He asked, begged, pleading for Ghost to join his congregation.

Ghost turned him down each time, though he did love to see a pretty man beg. Once, he lifted lifted his mask, let him see the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks. He hoped that Soap would assume gang member or miscreant and leave him alone, but it seemed to spur him on.

Soap MacTavish, savior of big buff men. Patron saint of being annoying.

Ghost started... watching him. The way he moved. His smile, just a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp.

He was... handsome. Seemingly kind. But Ghost was like a stray. He didn't trust affection and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how honeyed Soap made his words or how kind the scraps he offered. Something about the man was unsettling.

Soap simply knocked on his door one day at dusk. Ghost only answered when he had his mask on. He had some kind of food in containers. "Hey! Several people I know made me these and gifted them to me, but I don't think I'll be able to eat all they gave me. Thought you might appreciate them. I know I'd be homesick, in such a new area."

Ghost stared at him, hands itching. "How did you know where I lived?"

"i knew the people who lived here before. Laid them to rest myself. Saw their last rites and all that. No other empty house around for miles."

"Other people know...?"

"Doubt it. Most don't think of you too much." Soap sniffed, looking around. "I assumed that's what you'd prefer."

"It is. Thanks."

Soap smiled. "I'll keep it between us." He kept standing there. Just waiting.

"I'm not going to invite you inside."

Immediately, those soft lips turned into a pouty frown. "At least take the desserts. I really do have no use for them."

Ghost didn't want to disappoint him for some reason, so he awkwardly took the food. "Okay. Address between us right?"

"Of course. With God as my witness." Soap grinned and left.

If Ghost would've thought about it, he'd made him promise to never come back as well. But he did not do that.

He went into his kitchen and opened the container.

Cranachan. Ghost had heard of it. The King of Scottish Desserts.

He grabbed a spoon and brought a bite to his mouth slowly. There was a thick cream with oats and raspberries. When he put a bite in his mouth, he could taste the honey and whiskey.

It was so good.

Ghost dug in on his couch. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be something he'd eat off for a few days, but he devoured all of it in one sitting. There was more of the raspberries sauce and Ghost found himself licking it from his fingers. A warmth settled in his chest from it.

Maybe Soap wasn't terrible.

Ghost got ready to start his routine of checking all of the windows and doors, but his couch suddenly felt so comfy. He felt his eyes start to close, the warmth spreading more.

For the first time since being a kid, Ghost slept all the way through the night with no nightmares.

Ghost cleaned up from the night before, feeling comfy. He noticed one of his windows was unlocked and chided himself for being so forgetful. After two sweeps of the house, he was sure no one was in his house and nothing was missing.

The dishes sat on the counter, suddenly suspicious. The idea of there being something in it was preposterous.

Ghost cleaned the dishes. "He's a fucking poster boy for good. You're being paranoid."

As time went on, he noticed things. Always on his porch or right outside. Tapping or animal noises or sometimes visions of someone right outside. The wonderful night of sleep was the last time he slept for a while.

Soap showed up again. A cross necklace Ghost couldn't remember seeing was around his neck. He looked apologetic as he had more of the delicious treat. "Sorry. It's raspberry season so everyone is making it and... well... I don't really have much of a sweet tooth."

Ghost looked at him coldly. "And you're bringing it to me? No orphans to give it to? Children to target?"

It was the first time Soap had looked upset at him. Ghost was a military man. He dealt with that constantly back in his troop. But for some reason, Soap's unhappiness got under his skin.

"No, Ghost. I just... thought you might be feeling lonely. Ya probably think I'm naive. Small town guy, always trying to talk to you..." He looked embarrassed. "Never met someone from Manchester. And before you ask, I figured it out by your accent."

Ghost looked at him for a few minutes before looking away to pretend he wasn't affected by him. "I don't."

"Gotcha... I can just... take the food."

"No. I'll still take that." Ghost quickly grabbed the home made food, noticing Soap's flash of a smile. He bit his lip as he cradled the food. "Look, I'm not a good guy. Definitely not someone you need around you."

Soap looked at him sadly. "Even outside of my faith, I still think all people deserve someone. I just... want to try to make you feel less lonely."

Ghost sighed. "Alright. Come in."

Soap got so excited. He carefully walked inside and glanced around, moving his weight back and forth between each foot.

Ghost sat on the chair he had. "Haven't exactly bought much furniture. But you're allowed to get comfy."

Soap grabbed the couch and smiled brightly. There was something about him. He looked at him and his eyes... had a shimmer to it.

Ghost paused, holding the bowl.

"Are you going to put it away? Or eat it right now?" Soap asked conversationally. He batted his eyelashes.

Ghost gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Gonna put it away for now."

"I see. Have you been sleeping well? This place seems... so isolated. I don't think I could ever quite get a good sleep."

Ghost couldn't think of a good answer besides the truth. "Sleep has never came easy to me."

Soap frowned, batting his eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier for you." He seemed so genuine. So sweet.

Ghost shrugged. "Thank you..."

They started to slip into rather easy banter, but he found his eyes getting heavier.

Soap got up and picked his way over. For a moment, Ghost was afraid. He almost lashed out, afraid. But he didn't touch him. He leaned in, eyes glowing against the backdrop of everything around them. "Sleep well, Ghost."

Ghost fell asleep on his chair. Soap locked the door on the way out but he didn't lock the windows.

Ghost found Tommy's photo album and went through them. He looked at the various photos of him and his family and he found himself missing them again. They looked so cute. So perfect. He left them on his coffee table, messy and covering every inch.

Joseph looked up at him, bright smiling face.

Simon was holding him. Blond curls that he spent too much time keeping bleached. No scarring.

He felt like he was going crazy as things... moved around his house. Things moved right out of the corner of his eyes. So he started preparing.

Guns were tucked into every hiding place he could. Knives even more so. He started to work out again for the first time in a few weeks. Luckily he hadn't lost too much of his physique.

Ghost eventually found himself eating the cranachan. He slept well. It was unsettling.

Right before dawn, Soap arrived at his house. The clouds were churning together but there was still some sunlight streaming through. "I brought coffee. Are you a coffee person?"

Ghost wasn't usually, but rather than deal with Soap's sad look again, he took the drink. He sipped it and found himself pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Soap smiled. "Have any plans?"

"Gonna make breakfast... wanna join?" Why did he say that??

Soap smiled and quickly walked in. "I'd love to."

Ghost started to cook. He had been trying to learn more cooking lately so hopefully it wasn't too bad.

Soap looked thankful when he set it down and started to eat. They did so in basically silence. The cross necklace kept catching the light so he kept staring at it. When he lifted his gaze to look at his eyes, they made direct eye contact.

Soap's eyes. They were so dark. Like a shark.

Ghost felt for the gun under his side table. He tried to keep up conversation.

"Don't grab that gun, Simon."

Ghost paused what he was doing, watching the cross necklace sway where it sat. "What?"

Soap sighed. "Don't be like that. The gun your hand is on. Don't grab it." His nails clicked against the table. Too long. Too alarming. "Be a good boy, Simon."

Ghost stared at him, debating what could be done here.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you?"

"Not a danger to you." Soap answers a little pedantically. "I promise." His canines. They were long and curved.

Ghost glanced at the coffee. "You were drugging me."

Soap hummed. "No. More of a... side effect of my presence. You feeling anything right now?"

Ghost could feel something tugging at the edge of his consciousness but nothing too severe. "What do you want?"

Soap swallowed. "I'm hungry. Starving."

"You saw me up here. Being vulnerable. And decided you could fuc-"

"No. Not quite. I... I know you could keep a secret."

Ghost blinked, realizing the situation. "You're... asking."

Soap looked pained. "I am. A... deal. I keep everyone away. Tell them whatever I need so they leave you alone and I get to..." His eyes trailed to Ghost's throat.

"How bad is the feeding?"

"Not bad! I take about as much blood as a blood donation. Easy peasy. I'll even bring you food for recovery just please..."

Ghost undid the top button of his shirt and Soap looked ready to wiggle out of his seat. The poor man was salivating.

Why was he doing this?

it was stupid.

Idiotic.

Self-sacrificing.

The mask hit the table.

"Go for it."

Soap leapt over the table and sat in his lap. Teeth sank into his throat as he held him, holding him tight. They pressed together and Ghost could feel the unsettling chill that came from Soap.

He grabbed the table, almost white knuckling it.

Pain radiated from where he was being stabbed into and he felt himself go lightheaded. Soap's ass was pressed firmly to his lap though and it felt...

pleasurable.

Slowly he sank into it, feeling Soap take his fill.

His pretty boy thanked him, lips bright red from blood. "Thank you. Thank you. You're perfect. My angel from heaven."

Their lips touched and Ghost groaned softly.

Soap panted in his ear. "I'll be good. Promise. Take care of you." His claws sank into Ghost who was wondering how bad the situation he landed himself was.

[szarina]

❝ LOVEFOOL. ❞

ꙮ FEATURING. BACHIRA MEGURU

CONTENT WARNINGS. fluff + smut + exhibitionism + cunnilingus + fellatio + tit-sucking + masturbation + perv bachira.

NOTES. a indulgent fluff and smut to my mootie-patotie @blooming-aster , spending the night thirsting over this cutie we call bachira meguru.

SYNOPSIS. everyone's a fool and bachira's no exception.

bestfriend! bachira who's been your friend your whole childhood. always playing in the fields or just goofing around and messing with him. hide and seek in his mother's studio.

bestfriend! bachira who always squish your chubby cheeks. fascinated by the plumpness and the bounciness of it. considers it as one of world's mysteries on why is it so soft and squishy.

bestfriend! bachira who loves to blow raspberries to you. squishes your cheeks and blows. laying on your stomach, his mouth on your soft belly. nibbles the skin there before blowing raspberries. you're always covered in his saliva he's not sorry.

bestfriend! bachira who stares at you with his big, round, golden honey eyes. you can't help but to shy away from his gaze and it's so intense. you'll melt in the spot if you stare longer but bachira continues so, he just loves seeing you flustered and from the way you bit your lip. his brain overrides.

bestfriend! bachira who's obsessed by your plump body. he forgets to speak at times when he presses his lean body to yours and he's like a cat when he gets a hold of you. massaging and kneading your body like dough. watch the supple flesh spills in his hands and pops a boner out of the blue. can you blame him though? he's that down bad to you.

bestfriend! bachira isn't ashamed to be naked in front of you. you know you two hanging out in his room and he just pops out with nothing. he just laughs when he saw the horror in your face when you've seen him naked. can't miss your gaze going back and forth to him and he only winks at you. it's fine to stare but it's wrong but....

bestfriend! bachira who always make you feel good about yourself that being fat isn't wrong and it's one of the reasons why he loves you. makes you feel loved and suffocates you with his hugs. traps you with his body and tickles you until you're crying and begging to stop cause you're going to pee but still... he loves hearing you laugh. it sounds music to his hears and your smile it's so stunning that it'll blind him but who cares. he's getting that smile from you.

bestfriend! bachira who jumps you everytime he had the chance. after his games, you would be looking for him and wonders where he went but it's too late before you realize you're on the ground with him above you. he stares at you and pinches your cheeks. he go this predatory gaze though like he's going to eat you alive and he will, if given the chance.

bestfriend! bachira who can't stop daydreaming about you. he thinks about you all the time from the way you smile, laugh, breathe, existing.

bestfriend! bachira who loves you. you really did stick like him all this time and never ever doubt him and accepted him for what he is. you didn't scold him for the way how he acts and you always tell him that you love that side of him. your bestfriend who have nothing but love and adoration for you.

bestfriend! bachira who jerks at the thought of you. he's insatiable and he can't hide his perviness when you're around sometimes. he's leaning on the wall. biting the hem of his shirt, pants lowered and his hand on his aching cock. chants your name while he fisting his cock up and down. it only gets difficult for him and moans. he also done it when your back turned against him and he's shameless about it. he's huffing and puffing after he cums, watch his shame drips out of his fingers and the splatter on his abdomen. hoping he could spread it to you, some day.

bestfriend! bachira who kisses you breathless when you tell him, you love him too. head in cloud nine while he sucks your tongue in his. exploring every inch of your mouth and swirls at them. loves your eyes getting teary from his kisses. you both be panting and when you get back each other's breath he's back at you again. won't budge if you push him.

bestfriend! bachira sucks at your tits slowly. bites your nipples between his teeth and nibbles on them. he could be such a tease when sucking your teeth. tugs at them just enough for you and him to be pleasurable. doesn't matter if they're small or big. he'll putting that in his mouth. bonus if you run your fingers through his hair, he'll melt while he sucks in your tits. occasionally falling asleep when he's sucking your tits. his drool dripping at the corners of his mouth, surrounding your breasts with it.

bestfriend! bachira who eats you out like there's no tomorrow. you in his room, legs spread, your face in his pillow. muffling the moans when his tongue make wonders in your fat pussy. holding your thighs in his grip that it's impossible to escape him. tongue deep in your hole while he wiggles his tongue inside. leaving your thighs trembling from it. toes curling. catches every drop of your cum leaving in your hole. he just loves the taste of it while his nose nudges your clit. drowned in your taste and slick. squirt in his face if you can, he loves it.

bestfriend! bachira who gets whiny when you suck his cock. his cheeks heavy with red while you suck him. your cheeks hollowing out, tongue swirling on his tip and licking on his slit. holds your cheeks with both of his palm and praises you for being so good to him. jerking what's left of his length and he's a goner. loves to cum in your face. turns him on when you lick it off him.

bestfriend! bachira takes his time slow and nice when he's fucking you. he's a fucking tease. you need to beg and cry just for him to fuck you for real. watches as your tummy jiggles and thighs ripple from the impact. sinks his fingers in the plushness of your hips and just pounds into you. kisses you to make it better.

bestfriend! bachira loves fucking you in public. his fingers fucks into your hole slowly while he hugs you from behind, be it in the schoolyard, in the park while you date. kissing your cheeks while he tells you're being a good girl for him. he also loves getting sucked off. behind in the soccer field, in public restrooms or anywhere. loves it with the risk of being caught. folded in half in some empty classroom. your back in the teacher's table while he's grinning like a madman. the slap of skin echoing throughout the room.

bestfriend! bachira loves you so so much. he will give you the world if he had to just to prove just much how mean to him. whispers sweet things in your ear and hugs you everytime. he couldn't wish for more but just you his side.

he's a big baby and he knows it very much who want and needed you to be by his side always. just loves you very much and you love him. two opposites that attract each other to the end. smitten with each other and just can't live without the other. bachira meguru who loves his chubby s/o very much that he'll do everything to make you happy.