#bath and body works raspberry

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Bath and Body Works Sun Ripened Raspberry Smoothing Shower Scrub

mid-late 1990s

Found on Ebay, seller sjtx54

[stingrayextraordinaire]

Bath and Body Works Moodboards // Raspberries and Whipped Vanilla

Take the matchless bite of a lightly tart and perfectly creamy treat, with notes of pink raspberries, strawberry vanilla bean, and sugared lemon drops.

(requested by @inky-da-dinky)

[my90smemories]

This lotion smells soo much like a ‘98/‘99 scent from Bath & Body Works. I found it at Goodwill & had to have it because it brought back good memories.

[riverphoenixsgothwife]

guys from bands if they were bath and body works fragrances. btw. if you even care. /ref PART 3: SHE MADE ANOTHER ONE

marilyn manson: dark kiss (described on bath and body works dot com as “a sweet, seductive night in, with notes or black raspberry, burgundy rose, bergamot incense, dark vanilla bean and plum musk”)

james iha: blackberries and basil (“fresh blackberry, pink pomelo, sweet basil and jasmine petals”)

joey jordison: sun-ripened raspberry (“the sweet and fruity scent of raspberries with the comforting aroma of warm sugar”)

spencer smith: blueberry sugar pancakes (“sugared blueberries, fresh pancakes, and caramel cream drizzle”)

patrick stump: apple blossom and lavender (“a pretty fragrance of sweet apple blossoms, lilacs and lavender petals”)

[allthingsscented]

another haul, 'twas the night before christmas is like one of the best wallflower scents of all time

[fancyemmabovary]

she smells like a raspberry jam donut 🍩

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: daddy kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm.

“I don’t… I don’t know. This is stressing me out.” 

The box in front of you is labeled ‘kitchen’ and you’re staring at it like there’s a bomb inside. 

“Good job with your rule baby. What don’t you know?” 

“This… the appliances, and the bowls, and everything… where do I put it? I don’t want to move your stuff and I don’t want to take up too much space I…” His hands cover yours, thumbs moving in methodical circles across your skin. You’re overwhelmed. You’ve been on the brink all day, dialed down after he took over packing up your apartment, now ramping back up as you try to unpack it and put it away. It’s been a lot, all day, and you’ve taken it on the chin. He’s proud of you.

“Would it help if I did it?” Your lower lip trembles, and you nod. 

“Yes. Please.” 

“Okay.” He kisses your forehead, wiping away one of the fat tears falling down your cheek. “It’s alright. Go upstairs, get in the bath, and relax. I’ll take care of everything that’s left.” You already did your clothes and personal items, things brought over from your bedroom and closets, but the rest of it is too much. You’ve deliberated everything, and he’s happy you’re making his house your home, but you’re getting tired, and anxious. “It’s okay, go on baby.” You sniffle, turning in his arms to rest your cheek on his chest with a sigh. 

“Thank you daddy.” 

“You did a good job today.” You shake your head. 

“I didn’t finish.” You press closer to his side, leg hitched up across his thighs. 

“But you told me when you were stressed and trusted me to take care of the rest. It’s okay if you need my help, you just have to tell me, which you did. I’m very proud of you.” He rubs your back, your hip, kneading as he goes, slowly moving down between your legs, feather light touch ghosting over your panties. He’s been doing it for twenty minutes, teasing you, working you up, and when he finally presses his thumb over your cloth covered clit and you gasp.

“Daddy…” 

“Are you wet for me?” He turns you on your back, peeling your underwear down and off so he can spread your knees open. You’re fully exposed like this, little clit swollen and hard, pussy soaked and glistening, squirming as he studies you. “Oh baby. Look at you.” You throw your arm over your face, trying to hide in your elbow and he chuckles. “Why are you embarrassed?” 

“You’re looking at my… at me.” 

“At your what, sweetheart. Tell me what I’m looking at.” You drop your arm and stare at him with wide eyes. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

“Yes daddy. P-please.” You shake a little, hesitant, nervous, and he rubs your leg encouragingly. 

“You have to say where.” It’s a coaching game. He pushes you step by step, always there, always urging you forward, proud again and again when you rise to whatever challenge he’s posing.

“My… my pussy.” 

“Good girl.” He presses down on your clit, sliding two fingers inside you at the same time, drinking in your gasps and moans. He’s thoroughly enjoying taking things slow, working you up to your first time, soaking up every single moment, every single orgasm along the way. 

But tonight, he’s going to push some boundaries. 

“Your little pussy is so greedy, baby girl. Should daddy make you come?” You lick your lips and nod quickly.  “What do you say?” 

Please daddy, make me unf-  make me c-come, please,” you clench, naturally trying to squeeze him, your body instinctively knowing what to do. Already so close. 

“What a good girl, asking so nicely.” He gives it to you, harder, faster, and your back arches, thighs locking around his arm, the sheets twisting in your grip. Your pussy tries to milk his fingers for something that’s not there, fluttering as you come for him.  

“Oh- Oh my god,” you’re still riding his hand as it ebbs, but when you come down, he doesn’t stop, even as you try to run up the bed and close your legs. 

“You’re going to have one more.” You shake your head frantically. 

“N-no, it’s… ow- ah- it hurts,” He pins you by your hip, preventing your escape, and you shriek. “D-daddy, please-” 

“I know it’s a lot, sweet girl I know. One more, you can do it.” One more orgasm, and one more finger. It’s an overload, and your foot kicks when he pulls back, just to push back inside you with three fingers, groaning at the sight of your tears. “Look at you,” he coos, pumping his cock, “daddy’s girl stretched around his fingers. Are you nice and full?” You groan, the overstimulation bringing tears to your eyes. 

“It’s t-too much,” you cry, but even as you protest, your rhythm changes from tense to chase. 

“You can take it,” he fucks you harder, flicking back and forth across your clit, and your knees fall open, wails turning to moans. “That’s it, good girl. Such a good girl, listening to her daddy.” He tugs his cock free, letting it settle at the top of your slit, ready to explode, and just before you’re falling over the edge, he pulls away to settle his length between your lips, rutting forward to grind his cock against you.

“Oh god-” You fuck yourself against him mindlessly, screaming into your orgasm, crying for your daddy as you rub your clit on the head of his cock, sliding up and down his length, soaking it. It’s enough friction to draw his balls up, more than enough heat to bring his own barreling down, and he shoots cum up your belly and his at the same time. 

He covers your body with his immediately. Both of you sticky and sated, his lips dragging over the skin of your neck, your cheek, your mouth as he calms you down. “My precious girl,” you turn into his voice instinctively, searching for him with closed eyes, limp and exhausted. “Did so well.” You nod your agreement, grip still iron on his t shirt, fully out of it. You’ve already been in the bath once today, but he knows you won’t protest a second. “I’m gonna get you some water and then we’ll take a bath, how does that sound?” You pull him close, hands on his shoulders, and press your nose to his neck. 

“Sounds good daddy.” 

“I have a surprise for you.” You blink at him. 

“For me?” 

“Turn around.” The front door is half closed behind his back, and he can tell you want to peek around it or ask more questions, but you choose to listen. Good girl.

“I’m ready.” You announce, bouncing on your toes with a little squeak, and he laughs, pushing the door wide to let the floppy, giant, Great Pyrenees puppy inside.

“Okay, turn around.” Making you happy will never get old, and he knows these memories, the ones where your face lights up and your joy explodes, will stay with him for the rest of his life. 

“Oh my god!” Your excitement floods out of you as a high pitched squeal, and you immediately go to your knees in front of the white fluff at his feet, the puppy’s big pink bow flopping on her neck. “Oh my god, oh my god. Is she… is she ours?”

“Yeah sweet girl, she’s ours. She’s for you, actually.” You scratch under her chin, cooing at the huge white puppy that could easily pass for a baby polar bear, even at five months. 

“Does she have a name?” 

“Duchess.” You clap your hands together. 

“Duchess. Aren’t you just the cutest girl? Yeah,” the dog licks your face appreciatively, and you giggle, “you are. You’re the cutest.” 

“She’s not cute.” She’s not supposed to be cute, anyway.

“Yes she is.” You give her another pat. He has a feeling you’re going to turn Duchess into a lap dog. A one hundred pound lap dog. He pulls you over to the couch, settles you in beside him as the dog paws at your feet and you giggle.  

“She’s a Great Pyrenees. She’s not a pet so much as she’s a guardian dog.” You frown, pout already forming your lips. It was a tough decision. He almost bought a Mal, but the idea of you having to take care of a real life velociraptor when he’s not here didn’t sit well with him. “She’s going to grow up with you as her best friend, so she’s going to see you as her flock, which means she’s going to make guarding you her main job.” Not outright aggressive or high strung, but protective and territorial, and big enough to intimidate just about anyone once she’s full grown, a Pyr is perfect.

“But she’s still a pet.” He sighs. 

“Yes. She’s still a pet. We’ll take care of her together when I’m home, but when I’m away, you’ll have to do it by yourself. Do you want that?” 

“Definitely.” Good. It’s a dual solution. He needs to feel more at ease with you being home alone, and you need some gentle encouragement. Taking care of a puppy is a lot like taking care of a human. They need food, water, enrichment. Naps. Walks, exercise. When he’s gone, you’ll be the primary caretaker, for both Duchess and yourself, and he thinks, he hopes, having her will help you take care of yourself. 

You also need food, water, enrichment. Naps. Walks. Exercise. 

“And she can sleep in the bed with me while you’re away!” 

“Well, we really need to teach her to sleep in her own bed…” 

“Sure daddy.” You ruffle the top of her head. “We’re going to be best friends, aren’t we girl?” She paws at you and you smush her face, dotting a kiss right between her brows. He sighs.

That dog is definitely going to be sleeping on his side of the bed. 

[lynleaf]

tips for regressors with periods!

keep your socks on, little one!

our feet are our temperature regulators! if your feet are warm, your body will be much warmer <3 being warm relaxes our muscles and promotes blood flow to lessen any pain!

try to sleep in a better position!

clutch a stuffie to your chest and sleep in the fetal position to reduce pressure on your back! or you can try to loaf like a kitty cat with a pillow under your chest and stomach!

drink warm beverages!

warm water is always a go-to, but there are yummier options too!

you can try ginger/chamomile/raspberry leaf tea (add honey to sweeten) if you like, or some warm angel milk <3 you can add a little bit of tumeric to your angel milk with a dash of cinnamon and the tiniest bit of black pepper to activate it (no, you can't taste the pepper! trust me!)

oh, and this is the perfect time to drink some hot chocolate as well! (try out dark chocolate if it isn't too bitter for you!)

please eat your fruits and veggies!

carrots, oranges, apples, mangoes, broccoli, spinach, sweet potatoes, beans, peas, and lentils are some good options to incorporate into your diet! try making a yummy smoothie or adding a new veggie to your dinners <3

use a heating pad (be careful)!

you can use an electric one if you have one, but here are some more afforadable options:

- use a hot water bottle or thermos

- make a small pouch out of fabric and make sure the ends are fully glued/sewn shut! fill it with uncooked rice and secure the last opening. warm it up in the microwave for about a minute and boom! a reusuable heating pad <3

- dampen a washcloth and put it in a plastic bag. warm it in the microwave for thirty seconds and use it on top of a blanket or your shirt if it's thick enough!

- (last resort option) my laptop gets really hot when i play the sims because i have sooo many mods hehe, but i just make sure there's a barrier between my skin and the laptop and it works as a heating pad! plus, i get to play my games comfortably

overnight pads and period diapers!

i know many people dislike overnight pads because of how bulky they are, but they are a good alternative if you don't have access to or dislike diapers! they are mostly mess free and you don't have to get up often in the middle of the night! they are also really comforting if you like a little bit of padding when regressed.

period diapers are always a good option! they can be worn under flowy skirts and dresses and aren't as noticeable as other types of diapers! they are really comfy too!

warm baths!

bring in your favorite toys, your bubbliest soaps, and your favorite tunes! just make sure your bathwater isn't too hot, okay? i recommend adding a little bit of coconut oil into the water to make your skin super soft!

if you are experiencing dry skin or have eczema, try an oat bath! you can use a food processor to ground up oats so they dissolve in the water, or you can pack some oats into a clean sock/tights, tie off the end, and let it soak in the water!

[childofaphrodite555]

aphrodite 🐚 offerings / devotional acts

offerings

◇ shells ◇ ocean imagery ◇ swan/dove/sparrow/goose imagery ◇ angel/cherub imagery ◇ heart imagery ◇ valentine's day gifts ◇ imagery/paintings of her ◇ roses/rose imagery ◇ rosehips/rose thorns ◇ rose quartz, amethyst, blue lace agate, ruby, moonstone ◇ skincare/hair care/body care ◇ perfume/cologne ◇ hair brush ◇ mirrors ◇ makeup ◇ water (moon/salt/sea water) ◇ honey ◇ wine ◇ hot chocolate/any chocolates ◇ apples ◇ strawberries/raspberries

devotional acts

◇ give compliments to strangers ◇ dedicate a glass of water to her ◇ collect all types of pretty things ◇ plan your outfits, wear things that make you feel like you ◇ wear jewelry that reminds you of her ◇ create a skincare and body care routine ◇ watch romantic movies or read romantic books ◇ listen to music that makes you feel good, dance to it if you are able ◇ give yourself love, forgive yourself for any mistakes ◇ wear perfume/cologne dedicated to her ◇ fall asleep to sounds of ocean waves or birdsong ◇ take a bath devoted to her ◇ spend time with your loved ones ◇ pour your heart out to someone, or pour your heart out in a journal ◇ donate to women's shelters ◇ create a Pinterest board ◇ eat foods that she likes (strawberries, chocolates, apples, & raspberries) ◇ write poetry about her ◇ talk to her ◇ create a playlist dedicated to her ◇ have a chapstick/lip gloss dedicated to her ◇ paint or draw something that reminds you of her

these are just a compilation of a lot of things i have read, as well as some things that work for me :)

[starmocha]

How polite of Zayne to always think about his wife’s wellbeing, especially since she is so heavily pregnant right now with his child. Of course, he realizes how much more difficult it is now for her to move around and do once basic tasks. She doesn’t even need to ask him to help her, since he is always one step ahead.

So, with that knowledge, she knows it doesn’t take much to lure her helpful husband into the bathroom to join her. She doesn’t even need to say anything before his quick working hands help her slip out of her maternity dress, noting how his eyes do a quick, appreciative sweep down her changed body, seeing the way his sight linger on how round her belly is now with their child, knowing each day she is nearing her due date. She, herself, could tell from that faint smirk on his handsome face, how he is secretly relishing in the knowledge that he is the reason she is in this current state now.

The thought allures her, too. She delights in this shared secret with him, having this baby that they had both desired for so long.

He fills the bathtub with warm water, adding in her favorite foaming bubble bath with the jasmine fragrance that boasts of its calming effect. When he turns around, he smirks again when she gestures to how inconsiderate he is being by still being dressed while she is nude in his presence. He agrees it is so rude of him to not dress—or rather, undress—accordingly, so he begins discarding each article of clothing, starting with his dress shirt. He takes his time unbuttoning, laughing when she calls him a tease, her playful smile matching his.

He hurries with the rest of his clothing, knowing full well you shouldn’t upset a pregnant woman, especially when she is in her third trimester, both uncomfortable by her current state and also from the summer heat beginning to creep in.

Now fully nude, he helps her into the bathtub, joining her in the warm water, his large frame situated perfectly behind her. He smiles when she leans back against him, his long legs propped up on either side of her. He admires her blissful state, her vulnerability always exposed to him willingly. He hums low as she rests against him, eyes closed, and her hands moving instinctively over her large round belly.

Silently, his own hand rests on her belly and she immediately opens her eyes, looking up to meet his kind gaze. He leans down, his kiss a little clumsy from the odd angle, but she smiles against his mouth, giggling when they both startle from a strong kick in her belly.

He playfully shushes their unborn son, his eyes twinkling with joy, knowing it won’t be long before their bundle of joy will arrive. As he wonders aloud about their son’s future appearance, he lavishes her neck with sweet kisses as they both relax in the water together, enjoying this brief remaining time as just the two of them before they become a family of three.

When the water cools, he drains it and seizes the handheld showerhead with a mischievous glint in his eye. He rinses them both off, but he takes his time with his pretty little wife, wanting to pamper her a while longer. He scoops some raspberry-scented sugar scrub into his hand and begins to rub the coarse sugar all over her body, smiling when she gasps in surprise. He is meticulous by nature, so he makes sure he gets every inch of her skin, rubbing along her arms, down her back, and then her legs, but giving extra, special and gentle attention to her belly and breasts. He strokes her belly, feeling his child moving restlessly in her womb, a sense of pride stirring inside him knowing his wife has carried their child so lovingly these past months, sacrificing so much of herself for their future.

He gropes her breast as he murmurs praises into her ear, her answered moans received instantly upon hearing his soft words and feeling his familiar ministrations. He maneuvers the showerhead, letting the warm water wash away all of the sugar scrubs from her body and his hand, but he continues to caress her all over, feeling her newly smoothed skin against his own calloused hand.

He hears her calling his name, feels her hand gripping his thigh with a sense of neediness that matches her voice. He lines her neck with fresh featherlight kisses as he guides the showerhead to her slightly parted legs, letting the warm jets of water shoot into her core, her body buckling back against him at the sudden stimulation. At her urging, he continues, stimulating her from inside and out, and when she draws closer to her release, he replaces the showerhead with his own fingers, his practiced thrusts drawing out more of her desperate moans before he hears her euphoric cry of his name.

He smiles when she collapses back against him satisfied, but almost immediately, her eyes open wider to meet his smirk.

She feels his erection against her ass, and as she pants quietly, she gives him a dazed smile when he turns the water off and scoops her into his arms. He carries her away, back to their bedroom and lays her down on the plush mattress.

Zayne is a very considerate man. He wants his wife to feel loved and cherished for all she has done for him, carrying his baby, sharing her life with his.

Satisfying her one time is not enough in his mind.

Not even two, or three times either.

Zayne is considerate. Meticulous. Devoted.

He has every intention on pampering her the way she deserves, lavish her with so much of his affections and more, and worshipping her beautiful body over and over again until she is cumming on his cock. He is going to make sure by the end of the night, his pretty and perfect and lovely wife gets everything she deserves from him—her beloved Zaynie.

[ from osmanthus to snowdrop ★ Masterlist ★ Snowdrop Masterlist ]

[4theitgirls]

hot girl gift & christmas list ideas

beauty

hair gloss/hair oil

lanolips

fino hair mask

cosrx serum

rhode lip tint

- RECOMMENDED SHADES:

raspberry jelly

ribbon

cinnamon roll

philosophy 3-in-1

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

fresh cream

raspberry sorbet

pink frosted animal cracker

blush

gisou lip oil

rhode glazing milk

foundation

gel nail polishes/nail sets

victoria’s secret lip gloss

- RECOMMENDED FLAVORS:

candy baby

sugar high

strawberry fizz

kiwi blush

juicy melon

perfume/body care set

makeup brushes

gua sha/jade roller

cute skincare from the crème shop

false lashes/lash extensions

led face mask

electric toothbrush

under eye masks

laser hair removal/wax kit

heatless curl kit

pimple patches

body lotion

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

warm and cozy by victoria’s secret

the righteous butter by soap and glory

heavenly dream angel by victoria’s secret

body scrub

- RECOMMENDED BRANDS:

tree hut

victoria’s secret

bath and body works

fashion & clothing

cute pj set

workout sets

fuzzy socks

mary janes

uggs/fuzzy slippers

knee-high/thigh-high socks

basic tees/tanks/sweatshirts

health

cute water bottle

walking pad

resistance bands

eye mask for sleep

foam roller

liquid iv

light therapy lamp

hot water bottle/heating pad

hand sanitizer

yoga mat

wrist/ankle weights

miscellaneous

cute coloring book

books

palm stone

noise cancelling headphones

sofia coppola archive

throw blanket

chocolate

kindle

airpod case

phone case

speaker

candles

claw clips

perfume/body mist

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

warm and cozy by victoria’s secret

champagne toast by bath and body works

cupcake by body fantasies

autumn drive by bath and body works

champagne apple and honey by bath and body works

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Bath and Body Works Sun Ripened Raspberry and Special Edition Sugar Plum Soaps

Left picture found on Ebay, user beetledriver42

Right picture found on tumblr, user From the Heartland: Vintage Bath and Body Works

1990s

[bratreligion]

LOOK WHAT YOU DID FEATURING CONNIE SPRINGER | CHAPTER ONE

“and i’m feeling something new, i can’t explain it, heart racin’. and it only beats for you, i can’t resist. oh, look what you did.”

SYNOPSIS after three or so years of living the single life, you run into famous music producer, connie springer who would later change your life forever.

CHAPTER ONE wc 3k smth ngl im lazy, no content warnings needed i think, haven’t been here in a minute i hope yall like it because i’ve never done a series before! :D

it was a quiet saturday, the soft, consistent chatter of season two of the vampire diaries mindlessly sounded from your tv, its purpose being background noise for the evening. as you wiggled your left toes under the led lights of your gel dryer, you finished cleaning up the edges of the polish on your right toes. it was the last thing you had planned to do for the day after running yourself a hot bubble bath, enveloping yourself in the soothing embrace of lavender infused body oils, and gently massaging the silky blend down your thighs and calves. as the week ended, it didn't take much to indulge yourself and feel truly pampered. working full time as a makeup artist could be exhausting, but the money made it all worthwhile. Some nights, all it took was a bottle of wine to unwind.

a little ‘beep’ chirped from the machine, signaling the polish was dry. you smiled as you stretched your legs out, proudly admiring the design you managed to draw on your toes. going for something simple, an hour prior, you had drawn french tips on your toes, painting little pastel hearts every other toe, nothing too special, but certainly on brand for you. fingers tapping the polish a few times, you ensured the last coat was completely dry before slipping your legs off the bed, sinking your manicured feet into the soft, warm cushion of your baby blue care bear slippers, the cotton soothing the soles of your feet. ss the clock approached 5 pm, a gentle rumble in your stomach hinted that dinner was still a ways off. yet, the craving for a snack tugged at you. you started making your way toward your bedroom door, eager to rummage through the kitchen until the erratic buzzing of your phone vibrated through the floor.

you sighed dramatically, not the slightest bit surprised by reading the contact name attempting to reach you. you grasped the device, feigning annoyance as you answered the phone. your brows furrowed slightly, anticipating the exchange, knowing you loved it when ymir called. “man, what do you want?”

“yo, shut up, you’re not even doing anything.” ymir huffed, scowling. she was seated in her jeep wrangler, the blacked out interior and tinted windows all too familiar because she was constantly on the go. her dark brown curls framed her freckled face, diamonds dancing on the chain her girlfriend had bought her, sporting a new white designer hoodie from a brand you didn’t even know the name of. you had to admit, the girl could clean up nicely. “so, look, my cousin is co-hosting a block party on the north, and before you say you aren’t coming, i never said you had a choice. get dressed.”

you strolled over to your bed, falling back into the plushness of your mattress, rolling your eyes as you blew a raspberry. nine times out of ten, you only left the house because of ymir, her extroverted nature heavily differing from your meek self. while most friends in relationships abandoned you, ymir and her girlfriend were frequently coercing you into coming out of your condo, even snatching you out of your room from time to time. you knew what the deal was when she called. “‘mir, i told you last night that i don’t want to come out this weekend. besides, a block party sounds like too much, especially if eren’s hosting.”

ymir sucked her teeth, laughing in annoyance. “girl, i don’t wanna hear that. get up, it’ll be fun. you act like an old ass lady.” if anyone else had been on the phone, you would have hung up minutes ago. it had been some time since you had seen ymir, as your busy schedule had prevented you from taking too many personal days. the two of you had gone from seeing each other four times a week to once every other weekend. you chuckled as you shook your head, knowing your arguments fell on deaf ears when it came to her. besides, you did miss her.

you sat up, making your way over to your vanity, propping the phone against the mirror as you sat on the furry stool. “whatever, lil’ girl, are we matching today or what?”

she grinned, displaying her teal braces as she bounced in her seat, gripping the steering wheel. “hell yeah, i know you’ve got something orange and white. i’ll be there in thirty.”

time slipped away as you stood before the mirror, a radiant smile spreading across your face after your conversation with ymir. you couldn't help but admire yourself, feeling a rush of confidence as you took in your reflection. “pretty” wasn’t even the word to describe how you looked. you stood comfortably in your orange and white dunks, adjusting the light wash denim mini skirt you paired with a white, long sleeve bodysuit and an orange puffer. your braids dangled down your back, the curls in each braid making the style fuller. by the time you’d finished accessorizing with jewelry, ymir was outside, blasting the usual rap music you had grown used to. 

you were familiar with the area the block party was in, having been on the north side for outings several times before. the street thrummed with life, a vibrant array of people coming and going, their laughter and conversations blending harmoniously with the pulse of music that flowed through the air. as you stepped out of the car, the smell of weed traveling with the cool september air engulfed your senses, and it didn’t smell like anything ymir had smoked on the ride there. as ymir led you around, she was greeted by at least ten people who asked who you were and why they had never seen you before. ymir ignored their questions. like her infamous cousin, she was well known. sometimes you thought that if you hadn’t met her in the eighth grade, you would’ve never crossed paths. 

“yo, cuzzo!” ymir screeched, jogging towards eren, who pulled her into a hug as he dapped her up. you had known eren almost as long as ymir, and saying they were two peas in a pod would be an understatement. if they were not meant to be cousins, they would have been twins. not only did they share the same goofy, playful personalities, but they also looked alike. as much as it pained you to admit it, due to his player nature, eren always looked good. a gold chain rested on his black wife beater that appeared too tight for his muscled chest and his long, brown locks in his usual low bun. his smile was something of its own, sensual and overly sexy. eren was fine, no doubt about it, but you knew that regardless of all his flirting over the years, he was worse than ymir before she met her girlfriend. he was sex on legs–a walking red flag.

“what’s up, ‘mir!,” eren cheekily grinned, geeked to be around his cousin. his eyes shifted to you, doing his usual shameless eyeing at your figure and face, his smile turning devious. “oh, you brought, miss hollywood. come here, girl, where my hug at?”

giggling, you smacked your lips, striding towards eren and hugging him, squealing as he held you close. “hi, eren, nice to see you too.” 

eren grinned at you. “i haven’t seen you in hellas, where you been?”

shifting in your shoes, you tilted your head to the side, playing coy. “working, man. you know i don’t get a break. these celebrities work the hell out of me.”

he threw his arm around you, biting down on his lower lip. “you work too hard, i’ve been telling you about that. forget them. call me when you wanna do a full beat.” his joke got a small laugh from your lips, but it was interrupted when a voice across the lot called his name, diverting his attention. you brushed off the interruption, leaning casually against eren’s car while sharing a laugh with ymir as she blew guava mango scented smoke from her geek bar into the atmosphere. 

“man, he’s gonna feel like he won the election the day you let him giggle you out them victoria’s secret panties, i swear to god,” ymir mumbled, laughing harder as you swatted her leg. she leaned over, watching eren as he talked, and you, being just as nosy as she was, watched alongside her. next to him stood a man a few inches shorter, maybe standing at 5'9, modeling an overgrown silver toned blonde buzzcut. he wore a pair of black chrome hearts sunglasses on his lower nose bridge, but it did little work at hiding who he was underneath, his facial features all too familiar. you squinted as you scanned his outfit, which was a white jersey with pink and yellow lettering on his torso, paired with oversized jean shorts with ragged edges. the sight of his exclusive black and yellow louis vuitton sneakers left you speechless, recalling how you had seen the shoes before, but in person and not online.

you thought about the last time you’d done someone’s makeup for a big event around two weeks ago. you always wore a mask when you worked, regardless of how comfortable you were because most of the time, your client wasn't the only person in the room. that day, you’d done at least four looks, and the final one was for mikasa ackerman, a singer who had become a well known name in the alternative pop genre. it wasn’t the first time you’d done her makeup, however, things were different due to the presence of a certain music producer, constance ‘connie’ springer. it had been a long day, and as much as you wanted to fangirl in your head, you were too tired. you were used to being around people of all different statuses, so you didn’t pay him much mind as he and mikasa discussed the production details for her upcoming album. the last thing you remembered from that day was watching the shoes strut out the dressing room door, wishing you had a pair.

you gasped, your hand instantly finding ymir’s forearm, unintentionally digging your nails into the skin. she winced, slapping your hand, looking at you as if you were a mad woman. “girl, what the hell?”

“ymir, you didn’t tell me eren knew connie fucking springer?” you raised an eyebrow, ymir’s eyes nearly bursting out of their sockets as she looked closer at the figure by eren. connie springer, the producer behind most of the albums released in the past four years, each of which had spent a considerable amount of time on the charts, was standing next to eren, who wasn't famous for much besides his parties and his performance in bed. they were casually chatting as if their conversation were completely ordinary.

“no fuckin’ way.” she whispered. while ymir was in full fangirl mode, completely captivated by the realization that connie's producer tag graced almost all of her favorite tracks, each one now infused with an extra layer of excitement seeing the talent behind them, connie and eren were looking in the direction where you and ymir stood. eren looked back and forth between you and connie, but connie’s eyes set on you. you felt small under his gaze even though he was at least twelve feet away from you, and the pool of interest settling into his golden orbs wasn’t visible, but you could feel it. he removed his sunglasses, tucking them into his back pocket, and now, you were sure his attention was on you. he wore a smirk like no other as he took in each one of your unique features to the best of his ability, distance aside. you swallowed.

“yo, [♡], come here for a second!” eren shouted, his fingers making a motion, signaling for you. you froze, gripping that same spot on ymir’s arm. she stood by you in shock, yet a shit eating grin spread across her lips. she laughed, placing her hands on your shoulders, and pushing you in their direction. you wanted to move, not phased by the fact a famous person was in your vicinity, speaking with someone you had known for years, but more so in awe at the fact that they were likely–no, were, talking about you. it made you nervous and you never got nervous around people like him.

“go see what they want, scary ass!” she giggled, shoving you, earning a nasty scowl from you as you looked back.

you gave her the middle finger, the french tip acrylics on your nails making the gesture seem even more impactful. “you suck.”

a pit of nerves bubbled in your stomach as you made your way over to the pair, shoulders suddenly tense and your skirt riding higher with each step. attempting to look nonchalant, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket, ignoring how sweaty they grew as connie’s gaze became more apparent with every inch you moved. you tried to relax, only focusing on eren as connie’s eyes drilled holes into your head, as if he was daring you to look at him, to give him that attention he was so used to receiving. if anything, your refusal, unfamiliar to him, was intriguing. eren struggled to suppress a grin, his vibrant green eyes flickering playfully between you and connie, a glint of mischief twinkling in his gaze. “[♡], this is my boy, connie. you know him, right?”

you looked everywhere but connie’s eyes, settling on his lips but not before giving eren a stern look, nowhere near amused by his antics. “yeah, of course. i’ve seen him while working a few times too.” voice soft and sweet.

the man spoke, sending chills down your back as if it was the first time you’d heard his raspy, colorful tone. you’d heard him talk before, but it was nothing compared to how attractive he sounded now, speaking with deep intention and curiosity with a few simple words. five words melted off his tongue like honey. “but i don’t know you.”

you giggled, concealing that it was more of a nervous laugh. you weren’t the tallest, standing at five feet and four inches, but his lean figure was suddenly taller than it was two weeks ago, towering over you. he was confident as always, just on the brink of cockiness but in a way that made him so, so fine. and his thick accent was a whole other thing. “oh, i wouldn't expect you to, i'm just a makeup artist. i usually wear my mask with my clients, anyway.” you said, clearing your throat.

he closed the distance between you, the air thickening as the space between you vanished. by now, eren had walked off, somewhere with ymir watching the scene unfold, the pair giggling like school girls. the way he was moving gave you no choice but to look up into his eyes. he was finer in person, but up close and personal he was just as handsome as everyone said he was. his lips were somewhat full, a tiny freckle underneath the minty layer of chapstick on his lips. it was as if he didn’t blink, those long brown lashes making his golden eyes more appealing. he was tan, but a faint blush had crept onto his cheeks, natural or due to the lack of space between you two.

“you’re real pretty, you know that, ma?” the sudden nickname and compliment made you smile, and if your skin wasn’t that lovely shade of brown, he would’ve noticed blood rushing to your cheeks. people constantly flirted with you. you were the epitome of beauty. still, you'd be lying if you said hearing the praise come from connie didn't make you feel some type of way. “i definitely would have noticed you earlier. what's your name? eren already told me but i think i'd rather hear you say it.”

you crossed your arms as you laughed, your eyes raking up and down connie’s handsome exterior. “It's [♡]. and, thank you, mr. springer.”

he sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “why you callin’ me that? you don’t gotta be formal wit’ me.”

you shrugged, giggling as you kicked the rocks on the ground. “excuse me for being polite, constance.”

he cringed at the mention of his birth given name, sliding his hands into his front pockets as he relaxed his posture. he looked at you as if you were a dream come true, still awestruck at how beautiful you were, his inner thoughts more telling. in the back of his mind, he made mental notes of little details about you, storing them in the file cabinet of his head. your edges were neat and intact under the hot sun, still swooped as if you had just done them. when you talked, your lips sparkled, the glitter in the lip gloss sparkling with every movement you made. he didn’t intend for his gaze to wander lower than your chin, but he noticed how your thighs wobbled when you walked towards him earlier. you were so damn pretty. “yeah, aight. so what’s up with you? i saw you over there lookin’ all fine, i had to ask ej about you.”

“what did you wanna know?”

“all about you, but only you can tell me all that.” connie sat against his car, a black ferrari with bright orange rims, legs spread. 

“look, connie,” you started as you crossed your arms, shaking your head. he looked at you attentively, resisting how badly he wanted to pull you in by your hips and between his legs, “i don’t get involved with a lot of people. you’re cute and all, but you’re famous. i work with your crowd, but i know better than to get romantically involved with anyone. besides, thousands of girls around here would be begging to have you in the backseat of their cars if they knew you were here.”

it pained you to have to reject a man this fine, but it was no secret men in the industry were bad to fool around with. they were always unfaithful, liars, and ungrateful for whatever godsent woman they had in their lives, and you had always told yourself you’d never be one of those women getting dogged out and embarrassed. connie was about one of the finest men you’d ever met, but you had set limits for yourself. connie had never been in a relationship the entire time he was a star, avoiding paparazzi or nosy fans whenever he had a little fling. he was also raised better than his peers in the industry who thought of women as accessories, unbeknownst to you. that being said, the frown on his lips was unpleasant as you spoke. he didn’t want you to assume he was like the men who let their status get to their heads. he wanted you to know the connie he stayed faithful to his entire time in the spotlight. 

“i understand, hermosa, i do, but that isn’t me. i’m not some entitled cabron that gets around. believe me, i have nothing but pure intentions with a lady like you.” while it sounded sweeter than a sugar code coming off of his tongue, it was the standard talk a guy gave you when he wanted to convince you he was different and not like the rest. you had heard all of the lines before. you betted your lashes slowly as you observed connie as he spoke, attempting to find sincerity underneath his words. truthfully, if he wasn’t so cute, you would’ve walked away after saying your peace, but something about the pout on his lips kept you right where you were. “let me know you, girl.”

you took a step closer, now in between his legs, a smile on your lips. you thought you’d be a fool to believe anything he was saying. he was connie springer, a millionaire, and you were supposed to trust he was interested in you, a mere makeup artist from a block party he happened to think was pretty? still, you couldn’t deny how alluring the whole ordeal was. “i wish i could tell you yes, i really do.”

connie smiled sadly, the diamonds that decorated his canines waving at you. you were just about the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he would’ve taken the rejection a bit harder if you hadn’t given him the time of day. “so what, i’m supposed to just forget about your fine ass?.” he licked his lips slowly, his voice almost seductive. 

you paused to consider his question, suspecting that by the time he met another girl at the event, he would forget the encounter, and both of you would return to your separate lives. “that’s up to you.”

that same pink shade of blush from earlier crept back up to the apple of his cheeks. “fasho, then.”

“don't trip, you'll see me around." you began walking off, looking back at him one last time with those pretty eyes as if you’d never see him again before making your way back to ymir, not missing the way he eyed your behind in the denim skirt. "bye, connie.”

“bye, mami."

[froggibus]

hiiiiiii i just wanna say i love ur work so much. i was wondering if i could request a jason todd hurt/comfort fic. i recently had a really scary experience outside of a bar, and it has been taking a toll on me. maybe something like reader and jason fight over something silly, and then something like that happens to reader and he comforts them after and feels bad about the fight before? with a lot of fluff and reassurance. maybe he gives them a bath or something:) THANK YOUUUU

Never Let Me Go - Jason Todd

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn! reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst -> fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: after an argument with Jason, you're left to fend for yourself outside of a bar

CW: attempted assault, attempted SA, chasing, slight violence, dissociation/shock (reader), arguing, alcohol, hurt/comfort, pet names (Jason calls reader baby/hun), bathing together, jason is snarky at first

sorry this took so long! really hope you're feeling better, but if you (or anyone else reading this) ever need to talk, my inbox is always open <3 i talk about my own struggles with ptsd on this blog, and i want everyone to be able to feel safe enough to talk about theirs, too

i tried to keep the assault scene short and brief, but i've also added cuts before and after in case anyone would like to skip it.

(title slightly based on this song)

“You know that stuff is pure sugar and no alcohol, right?” 

You roll your eyes when Jason gestures to your drink with a look of distaste, hiding his snark behind the rim of his glass. You’re tempted to remind him that the foamy beer he’s pounding back has even less alcohol than your Cosmo, but think the better of it. He’s in a bitchy mood, and there’s no point making it worse.

He’d gotten into a fight with Bruce the night before, and had practically gone on a rampage through Gotham’s underground. The anger radiated off of him still when he’d showed up at your apartment an hour earlier, even after he’d flashed you a tense smile and planted a tentative kiss to your lips.

You’d told him at least three times since then that he didn’t have to come with you—given the bar was around the corner from your home, and you could stumble home from it drunk, backwards and in your sleep—but Jason had insisted. As if you ever thought Jason would be able to relax knowing you’re out at a bar in the heart of Gotham, despite your assertions that you would only be having a couple drinks and maybe some chili fries.

You swish your glass around, watching the raspberry coloured booze slosh on the sides. “We can go home if you’re not feeling up to this,” you say gently. “I don’t mind.”

He gives his broad shoulders an irritating shrug. “You wanted to get out of the house, we’re out of the house.” 

Though he doesn’t say it, you can hear the unspoken words crackling through the air. What more do you want from me?

“But do you want to leave?”

Jason’s eyes narrow, black pupils forcing out imperial blue. “I go where you go.”

It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to resist tugging at your hair. Though it’s been years since he lived in Wayne Manor, and even longer since he studied under Bruce, the lessons he learned have never left him. Including this form of aggravating, diplomatic speech where his answers gave no answers at all.

“Whatever,” you sigh under your breath, crossing your legs and tilting your body back to your drink.

Jason scoffs, “whatever? Really?”

“Yes, really!” You’re grateful that the mix of conversations and the drone of 90s rock are loud enough to cover up your rising voice. “I just wanted to get out of the house for once and you’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean?” There’s a cruel smirk on his lips. “The only reason I’m here is because of you, so that you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

“I never asked for that.”

Your heart races painfully in your chest. You’ve never liked arguing, especially not in public when the both of you have been drinking and especially not when Jason is already chafing under the expectations of others. It’s a nightmarish combination that leaves electricity sizzling in the air and everyone in the room on edge.

He chugs the rest of his beer, not even bothering to wipe away the tiny bit of white foam that catches on the shadow above his upper lip. “Fine then,” he grumbles, and tosses a fifty onto the counter. “I’ll see you.”

He leaves no room for protest, already barreling his way through the tables. By the time you’ve even processed what just happened, he’s already at the door, back muscles tensing beneath brown leather as he yanks it open hard enough to shake the hinges.

You wait until you hear the familiar rev of his motorcycle before ordering another round.

It’s late by the time you decide to pay your tab and head home. Your phone has long since been dead weight in your pocket, but even if it weren’t, you wouldn’t have bothered to check it. There was a part of you that hoped Jason would come back, that he would apologize, but that part is about as dead as your phone is.

It’s brisk outside now, and cold rain sprinkles from above. The dark rain clouds block out the moon, dim flickering street lights the only light you can see. You take a long, deep breath that clouds the air as you release it, rubbing your freezing forearms. Home is just around the corner, but that’s still an eight minute walk. Minimum.

A groan slips past your lips as you lean against the outside of the building, peering into the dark streets for any sign of a cab. A rock skids across the ground to your left and you snap your head in the direction it came from.

A man saunters towards you, his body encased in shadows. “Need a ride?”

A shiver rises up your spine. You shuffle further to your right, trying to put more distance between you and the stranger. 

He doesn’t take the hint. He moves closer, purposefully slamming his boots harder into the ground to get your attention. “I said,” he repeats, “do you need a ride?”

“No,” you swallow hard, adding a quick, “thank you.”

You don’t know this man, but you despise him. You despise his imposition, the southern twang of his voice, the fact you’re instinctually polite to him so that you don’t risk pissing him off.

Despite your plea, he keeps coming towards you. “I reckon you do.”

The alarm bells in your head start to shriek. You shove off of the wall, stumbling only slightly before you regain your balance and take off down the sidewalk. It’s dark and though you can no longer see him when you glance over your shoulder, you can hear the pounding of his boots on the pavement behind you.

And then his cold, clammy hands lock around your wrist and tug you hard. You strain against his grasp, using your entire body weight to get away, to go anywhere but here.

He’s so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the warmth of his body. Not warm the way Jason is, but warm the way a fire you shouldn’t go near is. You cry out desperately. The bar is still within sight, someone has to come out, someone has to see.

“Why not just let me show you a good time?” He says, “I’m a really nice guy if you give me a chance.”

You drive your elbow into his arm and his grip loosens enough for you to tug away. You rip your wrist from his grasp, but as you do, you lose your balance and crash onto the dirty, wet Gotham pavement. With how cold you are and the adrenaline your heart is furiously pumping through your body, you barely feel the impact.

You can’t see the expression on his face as you drag yourself across the pavement, but you hear a low chuckle. You imagine it’s similar to that of a wolf zeroing in on its prey.

And then, a booming voice cuts through the darkness. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jason sounds pissed, but it's maybe the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. The most beautiful string of words in the English language.

The man spins on his heels away from you just in time to catch a harsh uppercut to the face. A loud crack reverberates through the buildings, and he goes down like a sack of potatoes on the concrete next to you.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking up at Jason through your lashes. “You’re—how?”

“Oh, baby. Baby, baby,” he sighs, dropping to his knees on the pavement next to you. His new jeans are probably ruined from touching the ground—as are yours—but that seems to be the least of his concerns right now.

He cradles your head in his lap, his hands trailing up your damp, aching skin for any sign of injury. You shiver, closing your eyes and letting Jason hold you. The adrenaline flooding your veins has not yet diluted, and the calloused warmth from Jason’s hands is the only thing keeping you from floating away.

“I didn’t leave, baby, would never leave you. I was waiting around back when I heard you and,” he sighs, “I’m so sorry.”

His words are faint, so faint, and more gentle than you’ve ever heard him speak. Though he clutches you tightly to him, the feeling registers as barely a whisper. And then you’re on your feet, propped up against his side as he helps you back to where he propped his bike.

Your mind is somewhere else now. You’d have completely forgotten about your own body if it weren’t for the frantic, rhythmic shove of Jason’s heart against his ribcage with every step you take.

You’re not sure how you got back to your apartment, but you’re sure it was through no small effort on Jason’s part. Your waist is warm from where his hand rests—he’s refused to let you go for even a moment since he saw you on that pavement. 

You shiver violently even after you return to the warmth of your home. Jason had wrapped you in his jacket but even that did little to stop the shaking. 

He cups your face, a soft intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

You barely react to his touch, or to his words. It doesn’t take a genius to know you’re in shock—Jason’s seen it more than enough times in his lifetime to recognize it at a glance. 

The shivering, that faraway and glassy look in your eyes, the way your lips move as if they’ll form words but no sound comes out. Your pupils themselves have almost doubled in size from the adrenaline coursing through your system. 

He’d take the crowbar a thousand damn times if it meant he would never have to see you like this. He would give away all that he has, and all that he is, to never subject you to this kind of pain.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and starts towards the dark hallway leading to your bedroom and bathroom.

You let out a choked gasp—the most sound you’ve managed since earlier—and Jason whips around. Blue eyes snap to yours, looking more like broken glass through the tears catching on your own lashes. 

Don’t leave, you want to say. Not even for a minute, not even for a second. But your words fail you, and all you have to fall back on is a gasp of air and the tears in your eyes.

Jason understands, though. “Let’s go together, then.”

He grabs one of your hands in his, and holds your waist with the other. You walk like that down the hall, Jason holding you tight and guiding you to your bathroom. He helps you settle down on the toilet seat while he runs a hot bath.

Jason has you sit on the side of the bathtub, only your bare feet resting in the warm water. He sits with you, his legs on either side of your own and his arms around your waist. Already, the shaking has subsided and your eyes have started to clear. Relief floods his system, wiping away the guilt that’s been bubbling in his stomach.

He waits a few minutes, before saying, “let’s get you out of those clothes and into the bath.”

It’s posed more like a question, his fingers tracing inquisitive circles on your hip. He’s asking, you realize, if it would be okay for him to help you undress. If you’re comfortable being naked in front of him right now. The kindness of the gesture has your shoulders dropping from your ears.

“Y-yeah,” you manage.

Jason keeps his touch firm, steady, while he peels your dirty shirt over your head. He has you raise your feet above the water so he can help you with your pants and underwear, discarding your clothes in a pile on the tiled floor. 

He squeezes your shoulders reassuringly when he sees you hesitate at the side of the bathtub before finally stepping in and letting your aching body settle in the warm water. 

It’s an immediate relief. The chill your skin has taken on, the ice running through your blood, starts to defrost. 

Jason watches you relax into the warm porcelain, your impossibly tense muscles finally loosening. “Feeling any better?” He asks quietly.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble quietly.

He grabs a washcloth from the drawer beneath the counter. “Hey, none of that.”

“I just,” you take a deep, shaking breath, “if we had never gone out tonight, none of this would have happened and you wouldn’t have had to help me and—”

Jason splashes warm water over your head. “None of that,” he repeats. “I don’t want to hear any of that.”

“But—”

“Nothing that happened tonight was any fault of yours.” He brushes the wet washcloth across your face, wiping away stray tears. “You did nothing wrong. I should never have left you, plain and simple.”

“It’s not your fault either, Jay.”

He strokes the washcloth over your forehead. “I’m supposed to protect you, hun. I didn’t do a very good job of it tonight.”

“Get in here with me?” You clutch his forearm.

He chuckles. It’s been a very, very long time since Jason Todd could comfortably fit in a normal sized bathtub, but for you, he’d do anything. He’s  gentle climbing in the bath behind you, propping his legs around the outside of yours so you can comfortably lay back on him.

It’s a cramped fit, it couldn’t possibly be comfortable for anyone—but Jason sucks it up for your sake. Despite the ways his knees ache from the angle he keeps his legs, it all feels worth it when you lay your head on his chest.

“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly.

He plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “For you? Anything.”

And you know he means it.

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

Masterlist | DC Masterlist

[fushitoru]

can you please give us hcs of how protective and loving bridgertone gojo would be with pregnant reader

cw mentions of pregnancy :3, suggestive, lots of fluff

in the regency era, doctors did not let fathers into the room where chlidbirth was happening, termed then the "lying-in room." in fact, i'm pretty sure it's only after the 1980s that men attending the birth became commonplace. aashi dont cry abt women's rights rn don't cry about women's righ--- gojo would kill any doctor for even insinuating that he couldn't join you during the birth.

when it's confirmed that you are with child, gojo is hit with a lot of feelings. (and no, it is not surprise --- your marital bed is far too active for that to be a surprise.) at first, fear and responsiblity whack at his chest, threatening to bury him with the ever-constant anxiety of duty that he has faced his entire life. but, soon, it is overpowered with love. love that he's gained with you, and he almost tears up at the fact that your body is so potent---that it can create life. and that life is created from the love you and him share.

unfortunately, that time period had a lot of...controversial beliefs regarding pregnancy and what pregnant women should do. so im going to throw them out the window for sake of fiction!

satoru parades you at every party, revelling in your glow as you're swollen with his child.

at night, he talks to your belly, blowing raspberries on it (much to your chagrin) and talking to your baby about his day. he almost tears up whenever he feels a kick.

anytime he's up late working on ledgers, he takes a break and goes to your shared room, where he gently touches your belly while laying down to relax before going back to work.

he does not let you travel much and urges you to rest. in the mornings, he is willing to humor your every mood swing. sometimes he even gets a cocky remark in there --- but thens soon learns not to do that when you start throwing pillows at him and chasing him down with your huge belly weighing you down :( even if he does get attacked, you're kind of adorable

he really tries not to pounce on you. it's really hard with your breasts and tummy swollen, stirring something deep inside of him. to release stress, he trains and works on archery more. so he's basically adonis every time you get even a glimpse of his bare torso.

he's only a few days into his self-imposed sex ban when he hears you calling out for help while in the bath. it's nothing urgent, but gojo rushes to get there regardless. he sees you struggling to clean parts of your body---which he helps you out with, of course---but he kind of loses control when he sees your soapy tits :(

[allthingsscented]

some different combinations with christmas cookies from this winter 🎅🏻🍪