#routine housework

[queer-omens-in-the-archives]

Can we have a second Tuesday this week because we spent most of this one basically unable to talk or text (barely capable of making any words) or do any hobbies (combination of: information/processing overload & wording incapability) and I want a refund.

[phoebespenglers]

worst thing about being pinned as the "gifted kid" growing up is when you start to realize you probably have some Brain Issues and tell people about it, they don't believe you because you're quote unquote "too smart to have those" and "it's because you're so intelligent that you feel like that!" like alright cool! amazing! that doesn't make me feel any better though!

[disturbnot]

mega kick — is your muse a good dancer? what kind of dances are they particularly good at or enjoy?

pokémon TM questions — tentatively accepting!

is ash much of a dancer? why yes. is he a good dancer? hm ... *shakes magic eight ball* ... reply hazy. jokes aside, though, like most fellas with a touch too much energy itching at their bones and a certain silly streak, ash enjoys dancing! (just try not to remind him of all the wild partying he did in his 20s). most of the time it's just for fun, and despite the fact his memories of childhood are now threadbare—mothbitten by trauma—he remembers the dances to many cheesy 80s and 90s pop hits by heart. shame he wasn't born in the tiktok generation, maybe he could have made a buck or two hitting the griddy rather than stepping up to the gods' executioner blocks on the reg! in another lifetime, right? maybe that's why he has enough pent up rage to let loose in a mosh pit as well. god knows our boy contains multitudes. i'm sure that if a punch from him didn't equal certain CTE for the average shmuck, he'd be guilty of the occasional crowdkill. aren't we lucky to be in the world we're in? as well as all this, though, ash has an interesting and vibrant family heritage, replete with the dances and celebrations of his ancestors and the cultures they came from. sometimes he's the first in line at the pallet house bon dance, but also he's all too easy to lose when he's hiding from his grandmother's conchero classes. a mixed bag all round, i'm sure. from feather dancing with his aunt, to the macarena in the middle of the pit, to lazy grooves around the kitchen in the dead of night. is he a good dancer? all down to the beholder, i suppose, but it's a question that means little to man who has always known how to dance like no one is watching.

[beyondtsh]

Faith in Action: What to Do When You Still Gotta Do Chores

Let’s talk about faith in action when it comes to daily household chores, like folding laundry while praising Jesus. No, really. Because sometimes the spiritual life isn’t mountaintop moments or deep Bible study sessions with lo-fi worship music playing in the background. Sometimes, it’s laundry or dishes. It’s crumbs under the table. It’s folding your fifth load of towels while muttering, “Thank…

[notjustjavierpena]

Sundays

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Season 2 of The Last of Us ruined my life, so here is my attempt at fixing my eternal wounds. Lord knows that everyone deserves better. I spent four weeks trying to perfect this. It might be the best thing I’ve ever done. Please be kind and patient with me ❤️

Summary: Joel’s Sundays are for early morning patrol and making babies with you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic fluff, soft but haunted Joel, banter, teasing, Star Wars reference, kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, pussy eating, fingering, breeding kink, one use of daddy, emotional and filthy sex, creampie, aftercare, cuddling 

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65911807

Sundays

On Sundays, Joel does the morning patrols while the rest of the town sleeps. When someone asks why he has volunteered to do them, he lies and grumbles something about nobody else wanting to get out of bed during the weekend so he has to. Yet he always wakes up at the crack of dawn without complaint, showers in the miracle of hot water, fixes himself a cup of coffee, and reads his book - they have recently emptied a library on an extensive supply run and they found The Shining on dry shelves - with his glasses perched on his nose. He likes it; the quiet time for himself while feeling your presence in the house as you sleep under warm blankets upstairs. His morning routine always ends with taking off his glasses to put them on their designated spot on his nightstand and kissing your beautiful hair, watching your body curl up contentedly underneath the covers or if he is really lucky, you turning onto your back and sleepily muttering a demand for a proper kiss. 

He goes back down, ties his well-worn leather boots on a dining chair, holsters his handgun, throws his rifle over his shoulder, and then leaves with a quiet click of the door. 

The Spring air bites slightly in the morning but he doesn’t mind, appreciates the way it wakes him up a bit more and sharpens his focus. He misses you the second he steps out the door, thinks about your warm and soft skin while he checks the front of Ellie’s house, and then walks towards the stables, the gravel crunching underneath his boots. He listens for anything out of the ordinary - can’t be too careful - and even checks the fences surrounding the horses, the weak spots he keeps meaning to patch up himself because he doesn’t trust anyone else to do it right.

Patrol is as usual. He doesn’t expect any danger and thankfully doesn’t find any either, but he is a man of habits and old habits die hard. His free hand rests near the strap of his rifle in case of anything out of the ordinary, but the only time he needs to be on his guard is when Callus, his horse, gets frightened by a rabbit in the bushes along the trail. He calms the animal with a broad, soothing hand and kind words. He thinks about Sarah, about how she would have loved the nature here, and rarely anymore about how her blood felt on his skin.

He is gone for a few hours, three maybe but no more than four. He does all of his usual inner checklists and rides past each checkpoint, all the while thinking about your hair still messy from sleep, your bare foot sticking out from under the blanket.

On his way back, his thoughts continue circling around you. It’s almost dangerous how much he lets his mind drift; how easy it is to get lost in wondering what you’re up to on his way home. He pictures you in the sun coming in through the windows of the house he built for you with hands that have killed but now get to cradle your face too. He loves you most bathed in morning light that makes your skin glow. With a half-laugh, you said you’d be doing housework today, dragging your fingers through his hair last night whilst tangled up in his body. 

He wonders if you’re humming to yourself while mopping the floors or fighting extra stubborn dust bunnies underneath the couch. What are you wearing? What are you thinking about? Is it him? Are your souls really so entwined that your thoughts are full of him whenever his are so full of you? Joel doesn’t even know if he believes in that sort of thing - hearts beating in sync like that - but you don’t give him a choice sometimes, a feeling that not even Ellie has ever teased out of him.

When he arrives home, he smiles with his eyes closed at the twinkling sound of the wind chimes hanging on the porch ceiling. There is dust on his boots and his bad knee has started to ache from the slow change in temperature over the last few hours but he feels content. He removes the rifle from his shoulder to leave it by the door and then toes the boots off carefully. 

He inhales the smell of home deeply in through his nose before holding his breath to listen for any sound of you. His brown jacket comes off right after he has noticed the quiet movements upstairs that make the house creak just a little. However, it’s not the noisy floorboards but your soft curse that makes him climb the staircase.

A younger version of him - a version that was newer to you - would have first thought that you were up to something sinful and private but Joel now knows that the near-silent swear is one of quiet frustration. You don’t hear him at first, too busy muttering to yourself about the fitted sheet that keeps slipping from your fingers as you try to tug it down over the corner of your shared bed. 

“Shit,” you curse again quietly, bent across the bed in a kneeling position with one knee on the mattress and the other stretched out behind you. 

He knows he should announce his presence like the gentleman he is but he is too busy trying to catch his hitching breath from the sight of your gorgeous body. The swell of your hips and the dip of your back have his old ticker beating in his chest like a kick drum but it is, more specifically, the choice of your underwear that has him feeling downright lightheaded. Hugging your hips are a pair of lace panties and they’re see-through and barely there but most importantly cute. You probably picked them up from the trading center without much ceremony, drawn by their aesthetic rather than their practicality, and then forgot they existed until laundry day arrived. He can understand why; they are so impractical that they almost piss him off but it doesn’t outweigh the near-laughable way he is already hardening in his jeans.

“Hey baby,” he finally says from the doorway, his hands shaking slightly with how hard it is to not just walk up and grab at your hips as a greeting. 

“Joel,” you jump a little in your spot and look at him over your shoulder, the sheet still hanging between your fingers in a secure grip, “You scared the shit outta me!”

“What are you wearing?” He asks simply instead of apologizing, trying to act nonchalant as he walks to the side of the bed but you pick up on the strain in his voice. 

You glance down at yourself with a sigh but it just makes your ass jiggle, “Oh, these? They’re my last clean pair right now since I’m doing an epic pile of laundry today. Sun’s coming out. Perfect day for hanging it outside.” 

“They’re–” he replies, gaze fixed on your ass. His voice continues in the same strained tone but he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence. 

“They’re awful,” you help him and start struggling with the corner of the sheet again, “Feels like my ass is being flossed by lace.”

Joel snorts at that, “Should take ‘em off then.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You snort yourself, finally managing to pull the sheet over the edge. You flatten it with your palm, caressing it almost as if you’re apologizing for the roughness you’ve caused it and so it looks like it hasn’t been a battle to secure. Then you flop onto your back, stretching your arms out behind you to hold yourself up. The grin on your face is mischievous and sexy yet subtle, the position you’ve put your body in pushing your chest out so he can see your breasts through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. He thought he wanted you badly during his patrol but looking at you now, he thinks he might lose it if he doesn’t touch you soon. 

“You’ve got me. Take them off,” he murmurs with a smirk but when you playfully don’t follow orders, he starts leaning down over you slowly with his sore knee dipping into the mattress. You try to crawl back, squealing but he has taken on bigger things than you.

“Joel,“ you stop him by planting your bare foot on his chest but the way your leg bends at the knee just exposes that soft, intimate skin between your legs. He wants to dive into you but he’ll humor you for a moment.

He grabs your ankle to make you laugh but his mind betrays him by reminding him of how fragile his existence here with you is. Jackson remaining completely untouched by reality is a fantasy. He doesn’t tell you, never would tell you how easily it could all go wrong again, because you deserve the fantasy more than he does.

“Joel,” you repeat his name and he comes back to you if only briefly, watching your loving grin with a deep ache in his chest. He hasn’t felt this kind of ache since Sarah’s mother, a tell-tale sign that you are the real thing for him, that he built this house so you can fill it up with love and life. 

Life. It seems almost bordering on insanity to be thinking about children at his age in a world so broken but your eyes sparkle in the town square where mothers carry their babies in wraps while trading cartons of strawberries. You deserve to nurture someone other than him because your soul has so much to give. 

“If you’re not going to do anything but overthink,” you hum teasingly when time has passed and Joel feels embarrassed for having been lost to his own inner world. His thumb presses into the curve of your Achilles heel, tugging your body closer to himself by wrapping your leg around his waist instead.

“You’re the only person who talks to me like that,” he chuckles softly while his cheeks are slightly crimson. 

“It’s good for you,” you shoot back him and it is the truth.

“Was just thinking ‘bout how you do so much that I don’t deserve,” he says with his eyes roaming over your face and chest for a place to kiss. He chooses the column of your throat, “Cooking, cleaning… Lovin’ a man like me.”

“It’s not about deserving,” you muse and sigh at his stubble on your skin, “Do you want me?”

What kind of question is that? He wants you so much that it sometimes feels like it would be easier to live in your veins, to replace his tired and aching bones with yours if it meant never being without you. He sounds psychotic, sounds like something that he read in the string of horror novels he has gathered by now because they feel oddly comforting when there’s something worse on the other side of the gates. 

“Forever,” he replies simply. He would rather die than not have you.

“Not too much to ask for if you ask me,” you reach to cup his face, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones until he closes his eyes at the feel, and then pull him to your lips. You kiss him gently for a moment but with how much Joel wants you, he quickly lets it drift into something else, something more. He kisses you with all that want in his body, needs it to stop prickling underneath his skin. 

“Have you had breakfast?” He murmurs against your mouth, checking in, the question heavy with care for you. 

“No,” you whisper back into another kiss, fingers threading through the hair at the back of his neck, “I was waiting for you.”

“What if, after this, I take you down to the market?” Joel starts descending his lips on your body. He mouths over the mound of your breast, nipping at your sensitive nipple as it strains against the fabric of your top in its arousal, “Could get you fresh strawberries. Or blueberries we could throw in pancakes.”

You let out a soft moan that’s mixed with a breathy laugh, “I’m ovulating.”

“What?” Joel’s voice has gone scratchy. He stills his touch, moving to look up at your face to see what emotion is playing on your features. He didn’t even know you were keeping track. At first, he doesn’t understand your point but you’re quick to let him in.

“There’ll be babies all over the town square,” you grin down at him, cheeks warm with playfulness as you glow, “Just saying.”

“Maybe one of ours one day?” Joel tests the waters.

“Yeah?” Your grin turns into one of unabashed glee.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind it if we made a baby,” he answers quietly and moves his palm up under your top to lay it flat against your belly, “We could try. I mean, we’ve been dancing around it for months now, haven’t we?”

“Then don’t pull out,” the way you say those words, like honey dripping from your tongue, makes Joel swear under his breath and his cock jump. He watches the dizzying sight of you shimmying out of the lace underwear before spreading your legs to give room for him. Looking between your legs is like he’s been offered something holy by the devil himself, your slit already glistening and ready for him.

“Wasn’t gonna,” he smooths his hand down your belly to grab the hem of your top again, easing it up your body. You lift your arms over your head to help him get it off, the movement of your body making your tits shake. He moves backward on the bed, kissing his way down your sternum while squeezing your right breast. You arch slightly into the touch, taking it with a soft release of your breath.

Joel revels in you, revels in the fact that you have allowed him something that he hasn’t thought about in decades because the world did not allow it. He wonders if he’ll be a good father again after all these years of never letting himself think of being something to someone so tiny and fragile, dependent. Ellie had already been a mouthy teenager when he got her, and while she had relied on him, she had had one hell of a survival instinct and hadn’t needed any cradling. A newborn will be different; they will need parts of his being that he hasn’t touched since Sarah was handed to him in the hospital. He doesn’t know if he can trust himself to cradle his newborn with hands that now only know how to pull a trigger. He doesn’t know if it is like riding a bike, that it will happen naturally the second he sees them, but he knows that he wants it. God, he wants it. 

“What are you doing?” You question when he is suddenly between your legs, his feet out over the edge of the bed, and it makes him stop dead. Maybe he should stop having these thoughts when he makes love to you. 

“What do you mean?” He asks as he is halfway down on the floor to get in position. He furrows his brows in confusion. 

“You do realize that this is not how babies are made, right?” You giggle in response, sweetly enough to make his cock twitch. Oh, that’s what you’re playing at.

“Ain’t it?” He smirks.

“No!” You snicker. 

“Then I guess I’m just doing this for fun,” he replies and swings your legs onto his shoulders. He yanks at your hips to pull you towards his mouth, “C’mere, you.”

You squeak with giggles and Joel’s heart dances to the sound. However, your laughter switches to a moan the second his mouth touches you and covers nearly the whole of you. He doesn’t need to think about it anymore, has learned what you like by now from the countless times he has eaten your pussy like it was his last meal on this godforsaken earth. 

“Shit,” you gasp towards the ceiling and cross your ankles on the broadness of his back. He swears that he can hear it in your voice how your eyes roll back when his tongue caresses you in soft strokes. You taste so good that he moans into you, lapping up every drop of sticky sweetness with his tongue. 

“I know, baby. I got you,” he pauses briefly to suck on two of his fingers to wet them, following it up by turning his hand toward the ceiling and then sinking the digits inside of you. He expertly presses them upward, curling them into the spot that immediately has your hips jolting. 

“There,” you tell him with a whine, twisting your hands in the freshly-made bed sheets with a curse that he doesn’t know if is directed at him or the stupid fitted sheets slipping from the corners again, “Joel— ah, don’t stop!”

You gasp as he rubs into that spot over and over again, pairing it with his mouth circling in on the place you need it the most. Your clit is hard and sensitive, perfect for wrapping his mouth around and sucking until his cheeks hollow. 

“Oh God… Oh God,” your pitch rises as he works you open on his hand. At some point, you lose yourself enough in it to start tightening your legs around his back and shoulders. It makes your pelvis lift off the mattress until your back is beautifully arched, makes your cunt press firmly into his mouth for any friction. He grabs your thigh with his free hand for leverage and groans softly into you, taking the reward of sinful pleasure shooting straight to his cock from the way you fuck yourself on his fingers and mouth. 

Outside, the heat can’t compete with the warmth coming off of your body. He can hear another gust of wind blowing through the wind chimes around the porch, mixing with the sound of the city waking up and coming to life. He could die right here, he thinks, between your beautiful thighs with skin that smells just faintly of your homemade lavender oil but right now mostly of sex. It wouldn’t be bad, hell, the whole town would say that he died doing what he loved. 

A hand tangles in his hair now. You have relented on the sheets in case you’ll rip them, and Joel takes each painful sting of his follicles with pride as you balance on the edge. He sinks his fingers deeper, works his mouth faster to get you to tip the scales and come so hard that the world fades away from the both of you. 

It happens a moment later. You hold your breath for just a few seconds, completely quiet as you concentrate while the anticipation within your body crackles like electricity he swears, he can feel. 

Then you cry out in relief, throwing your head back and squeezing your thighs around his head so the sound in his good ear blurs as well. He can feel your muscles clamp down on his fingers, near-arrogant pride swelling in his chest from how skilled he is in making you feel good. 

He keeps his mouth on you as long as you allow him, the tip of his tongue flicking over your sensitive and goddamn pretty clit until you protest with a whimper. When he draws back, he keeps fucking you through the aftershocks with his fingers and dares look up at you, heart beating out of his chest and his dick hard enough that it is aching. His fingers are wet with your come, making your cunt squelch in the otherwise quiet room. 

“Attagirl,” he breaks the silence with a praise in his easy southern drawl, letting his fingers slip out finally, “You liked that, huh?”

You hum approvingly in your afterglow and he can’t get close to you fast enough. He crawls up from the floor, grunting at the way his knees remind him of his age, and moves up on the bed. He slots between your legs again like he was made to fit there, kneeling between your thighs. You look soft and dazed, chest still heaving from your high. 

“I love you. Every damn inch of you,” he murmurs softly. He looks at your face, how you smile with your eyes closed and your nose is slightly scrunched up as the sun dances over your features through the window. You’re glowing. Simple as that, no other word for it, like you will when carrying his kid, and he should tell you that you’re the only peace he has ever found. He should say it to you but he cowers each time. It feels more weighted than telling you that he loves you. 

“I know,” you whisper back eventually, eyes blinking open and your hands reaching for his belt. The metal clinks as you undo the buckle, a smug little grin on your face. 

“Alright, Han Solo,” he rolls his eyes for show and then moves over you, the devil in his eyes. He wipes his slick chin and lips on your face, making you laugh in the way that is enhanced by dopamine. He bumps his nose into yours, “Think you’re funny, huh?”

“Little bit,” you smile and get the fly open. You reach inside and wrap your fist around him, the playful air in the room settling immediately when you stroke him lazily, “But I’m just trying to get you to take your clothes off.”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans while you run your thumb over the slit of his dick, “You’re killing me. Gimme a sec of this.”

You give in and let him have this for a moment, stroking him with practiced flicks of your wrist until his hips start to rut so he can fuck your hand. He moans as he stares down between you, the muscles of his neck and shoulders wound so tight from trying not to come that it is a miracle his old bones haven’t snapped in half.

When you feel him near the edge, you squeeze around the base to halt his orgasm. You’ve started to breathe hard alongside him, clearly worked up by the sounds he is making for you. 

“Fuck me,” you beg him, your voice stutters as you frantically try using your free hand to yank his jeans down over his hips, “Please, Joel, I need you inside me.”

He thinks about how worked up you must be between your legs after holding out for so long. Knowing how wet you get from touching him like this, you must be soaked for him and ready to be taken care of like you deserve. It means that Joel doesn’t need to be told twice, already tugging his jeans and underwear just far down enough for what matters. 

However, despite the rush of getting undressed, he still takes the time to reach for one of the newly-fluffed pillows resting against the bed’s headboard. 

“Up,” he says without further explanation but you know what he wants to do, would probably trust him with your life even if he just gave you a look. When you lift your pelvis in the air without question, he slides the pillow underneath you so your hips are tilted just right for him to reach deep. 

Your legs are spread, your cunt practically served on a platter for him with how it is raised slightly in the air, squeezing around nothing as if begging for him. He looks down at your face as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, coating the very tip in a mix of precome and your shiny slick. 

You aren’t watching him though, too busy chewing on your bottom lip with your eyes glued to how the head of his cock sinks into your wet heat. When he starts stretching you with his thick girth, your mouth falls open in a soft moan. 

He places a hand just above your mound, holds you there while he bottoms out with a growl. Then he rocks his hips once then twice, setting up a pace that gives the both of you time to indulge in each other. You are snug around his dick as he fucks you, slick heat that makes his skin tingle and his breath stutter. The remnants of a southern gentleman in him know that he shouldn’t compare, but no other woman has ever made him unravel so much during sex, has ever made him feel so powerful and powerless in bed. 

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he demands to regain some form of control, staring down at your face contorted with pleasure. 

“You,” you gasp feebly, “It’s yours.”

When he fucks you like this, you are his. He doesn’t need to second guess this fact, knows it just from the way your bodies are connected like they know it too. 

He reaches for your thighs, his knuckles going white as he lifts them onto his hips. You lock around him by instinct and force him forward, so he has to brace himself with a hand beside your head. The angle makes him go deeper, the thick head of his cock kissing at your cervix and your greedy cunt flutters like it wants to do the impossible and pull him further in. 

“Look at me,” he says in a voice that reveals just how good you feel to him, watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust, “Say it like you mean it.”

You stare up into his eyes, your brows furrowed as the tip of his cock drags along the front of your walls. He is in there deep, focused on coming just where it matters. Meanwhile, you have to concentrate on forming words, needing to start over several times with how close you are to babbling.

“It’s– ah, fuck. It’s your pussy, Joel. I’m yours,” you cry for him, your pitch close to, but not quite, the one of a wounded animal. The difference is the lack of hesitation; you are both so sure of each other that it makes him ache all over and ignore the sweaty strain on his old back. 

Your hands scramble to touch him but you make a noise of complaint when his chest is covered by his shirt, the barrier a nuisance when you want all of him. He shed the flannel earlier along with his jacket, but right now, it is the soft fabric of his t-shirt that you’re pulling at to get to his skin. 

He dips down to let you pull it over his head, it slipping down his arm unceremoniously until he can grab it with his fist and toss it over his back. Your trembling hands find his skin immediately and it makes you sigh with relief. Your nails drag through the hairs on his chest, leaving red streaks in their wake until you grab the flesh of his sides. 

He sees how your eyes roam over his torso, where scars tell stories of a life much more complicated than this. You have loved each one of them so many times that he doesn’t feel insecure about them anymore, have traced them with your fingers and kissed them enough to get him to believe that he is more than the events that brought them. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you say softly and settle a hand at the back of his neck, drawing him into your arms. He braces himself on his forearms, kisses you like he isn’t inside of you, and has missed you for a weeklong patrol, still taken aback when you say things like that. 

“Sweet girl,” he whispers against your lips and you whimper as his cock pulses inside of your body. You look at him with fiery love and lust, the stare so intense he knows that this will be over soon because he can’t hold back anymore. 

His next thrusts are slower but rougher, harder and insistent in touching the parts inside you that make you barrel towards the edge. He can feel the difference between all the other times he’s been buried in your cunt to the hilt and this time. While the air is still thick with labored breaths and whispered cries for a higher power he doesn’t know if he believes, this is not just sex; this is about taking the very best parts of you and mixing them with the leftover parts of him that he has found aren’t fatally broken because of you. 

The sound of his name pulls him back to you. His pelvis has aligned with yours with each rock of his hips, the spot just above the base of his cock grinding into your twitching clit. 

“I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna come,“ you choke on air, “Please, Joel. Don’t stop, baby.”

“I know, honey,” he moans at the way you flutter around his length, voice cracking at how you feel better than a Texan summer. You’re so wet it sounds filthy when he fucks you, barely pulling out anymore and letting you soak his dick while he switches to simply grinding. For a moment, he is even scared that it’ll set him off before you’ve had your second fill, “Jesus, yeah, I can feel it.” 

Your orgasm hits like a runaway train. The hand resting on the back of his neck slides down to squeeze his shoulder, fingers denting his skin as you seek something to cling onto in your state of ecstasy. You come so hard that air is knocked out of him from how tightly your cunt grips him, his whole body shuddering like he’s the one losing it.

He presses a lingering kiss to your gorgeous neck while your head is thrown back, feeling the rapid beats of your heart under his lips. Your free hand cradles him like you’re meant to be a mother already, making it irresistible for him not to inhale your scent of lavender from the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.  

“You feel too good, baby, ’m not gonna last,” he grits out against your sweat-slicked skin, his cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat. 

“Don’t want you to last, want you to put a baby in me. Gimme a baby, Joel,” you beg him and bury your nose in his temple. You squeeze him tighter in your arms, whining from oversensitivity as his thrusts start to intensify toward the end, “Wanna make you a daddy, baby, please, I’m ready.”

Daddy. The word coming from your mouth makes Joel snap. He pushes his hips against yours and comes with a groan, the head of his cock flush against the very back of your cunt. In his life, he has witnessed wildfires and his climax spreads through his lower belly just as fast. His breath is stuck in his lungs as he fills you to the brim, his tongue wanting to say filth but only your name comes out. It’s good enough to make a grown man tremble without remorse in the embrace of his woman. 

After a beat, his body sags from exhaustion. When you let go of his shoulder to run your hand over your hair, your nails have created little crescent marks on his body. He grunts as he rolls off of you in fear of crushing you underneath his weight. You whimper at the loss, a few heavy drops of his seed landing on the pillow still beneath your hips. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs as a haze settles over the both of you, the sweat on his skin turning slightly chilly. He holds his arm out to invite you into the space that always holds you perfectly and you oblige without a word. He’d lay here forever with you if he had to, would embrace being trapped here with you until they had to send out a search party. 

He is still breathing hard when you lay your head on his chest, draping your arm across his body whose stamina isn’t what it used to be. You don’t comment on it though, simply hold him while the sheets get dirty again from the mess between your thighs. While the world fades away around you, Joel decides that he’ll help you do the extra load of laundry. 

Without thinking, his fingers absentmindedly start tracing up and down your forearm in a soothing motion. You swing a tired leg over his body in response, attempting to get impossibly closer despite already practically melting together with him in the post-orgasmic heat you share. 

Outside, a young child shrieks with excited laughter and Joel nearly tears up from how new the sound seems even though it is a daily occurrence in the little town. He must know if you feel the same. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks and breaks the quiet, still caressing your arm gently. 

“Just thinking,” you reply and splay your hand on his chest, brushing your thumb over his nipple without thinking. You kiss him where you can reach. 

“About?” He pushes, looking down at the top of your head as if he can read your emotions like that. You probably could with him. 

You crane your neck to stare at him with a little tired smile, “Babies. You. How much I love you. I love you.”

“I know,” he answers smugly, arching an eyebrow with a smile. He thinks another confession of his devotion might set his chest alight and right now, you don’t deserve to have his guilt winning.

“You asshole,” you dissolve into a burst of laughter while his smile turns wolfish, your body curling in on itself on top of his chest. He loves your laugh, the way you nearly snort and feel embarrassed by it. It makes him settle a hand on the base of your skull and drag you into the sort of kiss from a person who’s learning to trust joy again.

.

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[missadangel]

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 1: Blind Date

series masterlist next chapter

Summary: You work as a housekeeper in a rich family's mansion and often have to deal with their spoiled daughter. One day, she asks you to pretend to be her on a blind date with a guy her dad picked out for her. Your mission is to make him not like you so he won't want to marry her. But here's the twist: will Harry end up hating you, or could he actually fall for you? That's the real question. Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Word Count: 4.8k for now, There will be a part two if you guys like it, but I'm not sure about the rest. Sorry for the poor writing; that was quick. authors note: I am not sure about his name. If there's any update, I will edit. English is not my native, so please be nice; this is my third fanfiction. Thank you for the reblogs, comments, and likes. Love you all!

"Ugh, this dress is so last season! Are you serious? Everything here is out of style—get rid of them! Call Elliot and have them send me another dress, or I'm going to be really pissed!"

As if tossed at you like a used handkerchief, another dress worth thousands of dollars—perhaps only worn once—landed in your hands. You sighed as you looked at the elegant dress you were now holding, the Gucci label glinting under the light.

"Story of my life," you mumbled.

Working as a housekeeper in a millionaire's house was hard enough, but dealing with his spoiled and ill-tempered daughter was exhausting. Yet you were determined that it would soon be over. You could no longer endure this physical and psychological torture. With the money you had saved, you planned to open your own restaurant—fulfilling your dream. You just needed to save a little more and hang in there a bit longer.

Your boss was a decent, kind man, but his daughter was so unbearable that every housekeeper assigned left the next day.

How do you even tolerate her? 

Because you didn’t have the luxury of quitting and waiting for a new job. You were still young and trying to establish yourself in the business. The extra pay you received was simply to endure her antics. Your kind millionaire boss had even promised you all the support you needed, suggesting you could quit your day job and focus solely on managing his daughter’s affairs. But how could you have known it would be so challenging? Still, you managed to get through each day and believed you could endure this for just a little while longer. After all, you had survived three challenging years already, right?

The mansion was enormous, and everything inside was meticulously organized. Everyone—housekeepers, gardeners, cooks, and even the owners—followed a disciplined daily routine. 

Except for the young lady of the house.

You never knew when she would wake up or come downstairs to join her family at the dinner table. She was stubborn, mean, and unpredictable, and you had to manage her behavior just as you managed her dresses, her dates, and her friends. Because you were responsible for her, there were times when you wished you could handle all the housework yourself and let someone else take care of her demands. Despite being just an ordinary housekeeper, your name was the one that echoed the most throughout this vast mansion.

Why? 

Because the young lady constantly called on you to fulfill her never-ending requests. And it was one of those moments again. Since it was evening, you guessed she was probably getting ready for a night out at the club, and you felt a surge of annoyance as you rushed to her room.

"I can't believe I was a size 8 before starting this job; now I'm down to a size 6," you mumbled to yourself, quickly making your way up the stairs.

One of the cleaners dusting the vases in the hallway shot you a wink and let out a sigh. Man, you’d do just about anything to be in her shoes, just taking care of that vase!

As soon as you knocked on the door, the young lady Melanie opened it, pulled you inside by the arm, and slammed the door shut behind you. You were taken aback—had you made a mistake? It had only been two hours since you last saw her; you had picked up her clothes off the floor and taken them to the laundry room. She had seemed content, busy texting on her phone. What could have possibly happened in such a short time?

“Is something wrong?” you asked, your eyes wide. For some reason, she looked super tense and nervous.  

“You’ve gotta help me,” she said almost desperately, which caught you off guard; it was pretty rare for her to ask for help like this, very rare.  

“Of course, if I know what’s going on…” 

“Remember that thing we did with the senator's son? I need you to do something like that again.”

You froze for a moment. She was referring to something you had helped her with before—something you weren't very proud of.

“Oh, but—” you frowned. “You said I’d never have to do anything like that again.”

Years ago, you had done your best to disguise yourself as Melanie to turn off the senator's son and prevent him from marrying her. It had worked, but lying to someone was a real headache. Thankfully, Melanie's father hadn’t suspected a thing, but the thought of risking it again felt scarier than anything else.

“I know, I know, but I’m in a tough spot. My dad has been speaking with a matchmaker again to arrange a match for me. After the scandal at the club last time, he's determined to marry me off for sure. Please, I need your help.”

How could she still act so childish in her late twenties? As she looked at you with those pleading eyes, memories of all the times she’d yelled at you and scolded you flashed in your mind. It was fine when you were more like her special assistant instead of just a housekeeper, but now it feels like you’re just a toy to her. When she wants to have fun, she plays with you—almost like you’re her little slave or something.

“I’m not here for that,” you said firmly. “That is not my job.” Your patience was running thin, and this was just too much.  

“But you’re supposed to help me,” she shot back, stubborn as ever. “And it’ll be easier this time, I promise.” 

You narrowed your eyes and said, “We got caught last time when the guy found out and cursed both of us. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? And if your father discovers what we’re up to this time…”

She replied with a grin, “We won’t get caught this time because I already sent them your photo instead of mine. Besides, you know how my father is strict about always having my picture removed from newspapers and magazines.”

“You did what?” you wailed.

“Chill, it’s all figured out. I’ve been working on this since last week. You’ll have dinner with the guy, pretend to be me, scare him off, and boom! He won’t want to hear my name again. Easy peasy!”  

You rolled your eyes. “But he’s surely seen your photo somewhere; he can’t be that clueless.”  

“No, he’s a very busy businessman. He has lived abroad for years and has just returned from France. He’s looking to set up his business here in New York,” she said as she opened her laptop and pulled up a webpage with information about the man. “It seems he’s also looking for a suitable match,” she continued, glancing at his photo and pursing her lips.

You froze when you looked at the photo; he wasn’t at all what you expected. He appeared to be a mature, charismatic, and intelligent man. But how could you sit opposite this man and pretend to be someone else? The thought made you shudder, raising the tiny hairs on the back of your neck.  

“As you can see, he’s much older than me. I don’t think he’ll tolerate disrespect. If you’re disrespectful to him, he might get annoyed and just leave the table,” she said with a chuckle.

You laughed too, but for a different reason. You were sure that if she went to the meeting herself, he would get up and leave when he saw her personality.  

“I think you should go; maybe he won’t like you,” you suggested.  

She narrowed her eyes at you like she'd just caught you saying something crazy. “He won’t like me? Seriously?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a cocky grin. “Anyway, I can’t risk it. I don’t want to marry him or anyone else, and I definitely don’t want to be stuck in the same room with that old man.” 

As if I want it so much, you thought.  

“Come on, please do this for me! I promise I’ll be good; I won’t make you work too hard. I’ll ask Dad to give you a nice raise,” she said, clasping her hands together and trying to look cute.  

Well, good raise would mean you could quit your job and bail out of here earlier, right? You crossed your arms and glanced back at the laptop screen, staring at the photo of that guy—Harry Castillo. You made a decision that you had no idea would change everything in both his life and yours.

“Fine. When’s dinner?” you said, feeling a bit anxious.  

“Oh, you’re the best! I knew you couldn’t say no!” she said excitedly. “This Saturday.”  

“But that’s only two days away,” you pointed out, feeling even more nervous.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you all set. Just make sure you displease him,” she grinned.  

You sighed deeply, already sure you’d regret this choice.

“Don’t you think this dress is a bit… exaggerated?” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror.  

It was an elegant burgundy dress—strappy, satin, and adorned with pearl details—the kind of designer item you could never afford, even if you worked your entire life.  

“Am I trying to make him hate me or make him fall for me?” you asked, frowning.  

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry; he’ll never fall in love with you,” she said arrogantly. This was typical behavior for her, so you chose to ignore it. “As much as you want to annoy him, remember that you represent me. I don’t want anyone gossiping that Melanie Johanson is wearing a lame dress,” she continued while picking out a matching purse.  

“But everyone knows I’m not you, except that poor guy.”  

“I don’t suppose you were planning to wear one of your own skimpy outfits,” she remarked. “Do you want our game to be exposed?”  

That was too much—being scolded and being forced to do something so ridiculous for this spoiled girl.  

“Fine, go to that dinner yourself then,” you said, slipping off your heels.  

She grabbed your arms. “No, no, no, please. Okay, I’m sorry I was rude. But I need you; no one else would do something like this for me.”  

“It’s good that you realize that,” you muttered.  

“Here, take this; it’s time,” she said, giving you a smile.  

Honestly, putting up with Melanie’s constant demands, cleaning up after her, and covering for her felt like child’s play compared to what you were facing tonight. 

A nice raise, you keep telling yourself trying to soothe yourself. I’m doing this for my restaurant; I’ll get it started someday.

The restaurant was one of the most famous, expensive, and luxurious places in New York—somewhere you would never normally set foot in. But tonight, thanks to Melanie’s name, you could easily get in. You were overwhelmed by the incredibly polite behavior of the restaurant staff.  

Melanie may have been extravagant and reckless, but she had thought of almost everything for tonight—from the driver who brought you here to the all restaurant staff. 

All this effort was for one purpose: to rid herself of the matchmaker’s match.  

When they took your fur coat at the entrance and told you that Mr. Castillo was waiting for you, you took a deep breath. After one step inside, when you saw him, you nearly backed away. Harry was busy on his phone, scribbling notes in his small notebook. He looked really sharp and stylish—way more handsome and appealing than in the photo.

Damn.  

You wanted to escape; you wished to put an end to this nonsense before it even began. Without realizing it, your feet started to move backward. Just then, you turned around and accidentally bumped into the waiter behind you, causing him to drop the champagne glasses he was carrying on his tray. The glasses shattered, and champagne spilled all over his outfit. You cursed yourself for the mishap.

Before you could even respond, the waiter apologized. “No, it was my fault; I’m sorry,” you said nervously, trying to wipe off the champagne from his clothes.

The other waiter and the staff stared at you in shock. 

Yes, you were a wealthy lady now, but what harm was there in being polite?

"No, ma'am, I should have been more careful," he said before turning and walking away.

"Miss Johnson?" said a soft, deep voice. 

You turned around to meet him and felt almost breathless. There he was, few inches taller than you, with broad shoulders, curly hair, deep-set brown eyes, a sharp nose, and an attractive appearance. 

"Melanie, right?" 

"Y-yes," you stammered, batting your eyelashes. 

And that smile! For a moment, the world seemed to stop; all the sounds in the restaurant faded, and you almost forgot why you were there. 

"I'm Harry," he said, holding out his hand. It took you so long to look at his face that you nearly forgot to acknowledge his hand. He laughed again, that wonderful smile lighting up his face. "My hand has been waiting for a while," he said teasingly. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you realized what he meant. "I'm sorry," you replied, quickly reaching out to shake his waiting hand. His hand was big and warm. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. You knew you needed to work up the courage. 

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “Shall we head to our table? Or do you want to stay here all night?” 

“S-sure,” you said sheepishly. 

Well, there wasn't much you could do about it. This wasn't just about him being wealthy or handsome. Even if it was a fake date, it had been years since you'd been on a date, and you didn’t know many men in your life. 

Dinner was harder than you expected. Even though you and Melanie had practiced what you should and shouldn't say, your fears came to light. Harry seemed kind and understanding, and it was difficult to lie to him, which made you hate every minute of it. It got worse when he started grilling you with questions, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep up with this silly game.

When you excused yourself to go to the restroom, you called Melanie. 

"What do you mean he hasn't left the restaurant yet?" 

"I don't know; the conversation got a little long, and he kept asking questions about me, I mean you." 

"Do something to make him hate you already!" 

“But how? Throw wine at him? This is all ridiculous. I think we should just tell the truth.”

"Don't you dare!" she barked.

Her voice was so loud that you had to smile apologetically when the other women in the ladies room looked at you strangely, hearing your end of the conversation. 

"What am I supposed to do? Our plan isn't working." 

“What's up with this guy? He should’ve bailed by now.” Melanie grunted.

“He seems nice—I doubt he’d be rude like that.” 

“Rude! That’s the ticket; just be rude enough that he can’t stand it.” 

“What? Seriously?” 

“Yep, you heard me. Just be as rude as you can.” 

You let out a sigh, really wishing you could just bang your head against the wall right now.

“I said do it, or you'll ruin everything. Call me when you’re done.” 

“But what am I gonna— Hello? Darn it!” 

Beep… Beep… Beep… 

She hung up. 

You’ll have to be rude, how wonderful! But she was right; you needed to get rid of this man for the night to end and for you to return to your normal life. Why did he have to be so nice and kind? If he could ever act like a jerk, you would have done it by now, but he was just too sweet. As you looked in the mirror, you thought of all the rude things a lady wouldn’t normally do. Ah, that sounds familiar; it reminds you of Melanie herself. The very thought of her actions made you smile nervously. You took a deep breath and left the restroom.

Encouraging yourself, you gazed at Harry's handsome face from afar.

You can do it, you can do it...

Your first move: act indifferent.

You changed your facial expression as you approached the table and deliberately looked away from his face. He was smiling warmly at you. No, you couldn't look at him; it would only complicate everything. You were about to apologize for being late, but no, you can’t. Instead, you pulled your chair noisily on purpose, scraping its legs on the floor to create an annoying sound. You sat down and crossed your legs, positioning your body so it wasn't fully facing him. Harry seemed surprised by this sudden shift in your mood, but he didn’t comment.

A little later, as your desserts were served, he looked at you, “I like chocolate cake too, especially with pistachio sauce. We have similar tastes,” grinning at you.

You looked at him and then at the waiter. “I don’t want this,” you said angrily.

“But ma'am, you ordered it,” the poor man replied sheepishly.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you said. “I’ll go with the tiramisu,” you added after a quick look at the menu, making sure to glance away casually.

“Sure, I’ll change it right away,” he said, taking your plate and walking back.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, concern creeping into his voice.

“I’m great,” you lied, forcing a fake grin.

He didn’t ask any further questions, but he seemed to suspect something had changed. When the waiter brought your dessert, you decided to eat it rudely. You were sure Harry would be disgusted as you devoured your dessert quickly and rather rudely as if you were starving. You didn’t look at him again until you finished your plate. When you finally glanced up, your stomach feeling a bit nauseous, the look on his face was not what you had expected. He was smiling at you admiringly.

What the hell was that? 

Shouldn’t he have shown disgust or displeasure, just like the people at the next table who were staring at you with disdain?

But not Harry, not him. Why, God, why? 

As if teasing you, he laughed and reached for a napkin on the table, wiping the remnants of dessert from the corner of your lips. “You’ve got quite the sweet tooth, don’t you, sweet girl?”

How could he be so nice, even after everything? 

“Want to eat mine too?” he joked again. Clearly, you were amusing him instead of grossing him out. Ugh, just what you needed. Why was this so hard? 

“It’s the cream in it,” you said, a bit defensive. If you were going to get into a battle of words, you might as well dive in. 

When he looked at you, confused, you thought you saw a glimmer of hope. Maybe you could annoy him with your gourmet knowledge. 

“The Marsala wine is in the cream; it’s a secret recipe,” you said, trying to sound smart. 

Harry paused eating his dessert, rested his elbow on the table, and gave you an admiring look. “Interesting. I didn’t know you were into cooking. That wasn’t in the info.” That familiar warm smile was back.

Crap. Another mess-up. 

“I get it—you’re keeping it under wraps from your dad. I want you to feel comfortable talking about your hobbies when you’re with me.” 

When you’re with him? Damn, that was supposed to be the first and last time you saw him. You started playing with your fingers in your hair out of nervousness. 

Think, think, think. All you had left was to use the only card you had.

“Look, Harry, I’ll be frank. I don’t plan to see you again.”

Suddenly, he stopped. “Didn’t you like me?” he asked softly.

Was it possible not to like this man? But damn it, you had to lie. You looked away; it was hard to read his expression.

“You’ve probably heard about me from the tabloids. I’m not the type of woman to get attached to just one man. My father put me up to this matchmaker thing; I didn’t intend to.” You admitted this indirectly. He deserved a little honesty, didn’t he? “I’ve had and will have many men in my life. I don’t plan to get married. I mean, you’re not special. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” 

When you looked at his face timidly, you realized you got the reaction you had been waiting for since the beginning of the night. His smile vanished; his expression hardened, and the color of his eyes darkened. 

But why did your heart squeeze when you should have felt relieved?

When they brought your coat, you thanked them and turned to Harry for the last time. You would probably never see him again. You felt fortunate to have had the chance to meet and get to know this man, even briefly. He would probably forget you anyway; why would he remember you? 

“Can I give you a ride home so we can end things on a good note?” he asked, sounding a bit unsure.

You definitely didn’t see that coming. You paused, trying to figure out what to say. It would’ve been easier to just say no, but his eyes were so mesmerizing that if he’d asked you to spill all your secrets right then, you might have done it without even thinking.

“Sure,” you replied, feeling shy.

When the valet brought Harry's car around, your jaw dropped. This black, late-model Mercedes Benz S was probably worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Your interest in cars stemmed from your childhood; your mother always complained that you didn't like dresses and jewelry like other girls—rather, you liked cars. It was clear you were different, and you had always been that way.

Just like the situation you found yourself in now. Maybe there was something wrong with you.

The two of you were silent the entire ride. You didn’t look directly at him, but you could feel his gaze on you out of the corner of your eye. However, you were more captivated by the interior of the car. When would you ever get to ride in such a luxury vehicle again? It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look. As you glanced towards his side to check out the control panel and see how much horsepower the car had, he caught your eye, causing you to quickly turn your head away. You had to suppress your curiosity.

"We’ll turn right here," you said as you approached the junction. Down the street, the giant mansion loomed, so close to your destination. You stole a quick glance at him, realizing this might be the only time you would see this man in person. You wanted to remember his handsome face. 

Suddenly, Harry slammed on the brakes, and the car screeched to a halt. Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked at him, startled that he had stopped so abruptly near the mansion. What had caused him to suddenly halt? He didn’t say a word, just stared at you, and his eyes seemed to communicate something intense. Was he angry and no longer wanting your company? 

You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, only to find it locked.

“Stay still,” he said as he unlocked the car doors. 

What was he implying? He walked around the front of the car, reached your side, and opened your door. 

Was this chivalry? If so, why did he stay away from the mansion?

“Aren’t you getting out?” His voice was kinda cold.

You didn’t know how to respond. You stepped out of the car without saying a word.

“Thanks for the ride—” 

Suddenly, he grabbed your arm—not roughly, but with a firm, questioning grip. His gaze was intense, but why did he look that way? Had he figured it all out? Maybe he was about to confront you for making a fool of yourself. After all, you had been willing to be open, and now you felt you deserved it. But you didn’t have the courage to meet his eyes, so you lowered your head. 

“You were lying, weren’t you?”

Shit. 

You swallowed hard; this was the moment you had dreaded.

“I-I…”

What were you going to say? How would you even say it?

You were fucked.

Suddenly, Harry pinched your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him while his other hand rested on your waist. He tilted his head toward you, his hot breath brushing against your face, making your heart race. His lips were dangerously close to yours, and you could feel your throat going dry. What the hell was he going to do? Kissing you or scolding you? After what felt like an eternity, he pulled you closer by the arm around your waist and kissed you.

It had been a long time since you kissed someone, so you were almost shocked by his sudden kiss. No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, you finally closed your eyes and surrendered to him completely. Your surrendering gave him courage and he deepened the kiss, his hot tongue licking your lips and forcing them apart. While his expert hand lingered on the swell of your breasts teasingly, you moaned and opened your mouth for him and when his tongue touched yours, you could still taste the chocolate from the dessert he had just eaten. 

But suddenly, Harry pulled his head back, breaking the kiss and all contact. Instinctively mesmerized, you leaned forward, eyes closed and mouth agape. When you finally opened your eyes, you caught him snickering, and as the embarrassment of the situation hit you, you wished you could disappear. You instinctively pressed your hand to your burning lips and pressed hem together. Harry licked his lips and grinned. "Just as I predicted. You lied to me. There's no way another man has touched you recently."

For a second, your mind went blank, and you just stared at him, blinking in confusion. What the heck did he mean by that? "Y-you... w-what..." Great, now you couldn't even put together a simple sentence.

What next?

Just then, your phone started ringing. When you opened your purse to get it, Harry reached for it before you could. Fortunately, you had saved Melanie in your phone under a special nickname, not her real name. Harry laughed, raising his eyebrows in surprise and amusement. "Trouble?"

Yes, you had saved her as trouble.

"Can you hand my phone back, please?" you said, holding out your hands, but he caught them with one hand and gently pushed them away. 

“Your trouble can wait,” he said, rejecting Melanie’s call. He dialed a number on your phone, but realized what he was doing when his own phone started ringing.

“There, now you have my number,” he said, handing your phone back to you.

You frowned and grabbed your phone angrily, "What makes you think I’d actually call you?" 

Harry shrugged, pursing his lips. “Shouldn't I call you before I come to pick you up for our next date? I guess I could just come by your house and honk the horn instead.” 

“What?” you exclaimed.

He grinned.

You took a deep breath to release some of your tension. “Harry, why are you doing this? There won’t be a next date; I told you that.”

“One chance,” he said firmly.

“A chance of what?” 

"I want you to give me a chance. A real date. If, at the end of the night, you still feel the same way, I promise you’ll never see me again."

You shook your head. "But why? You’re a man who can have any woman you want. You’re rich, handsome, and kind—why waste your time on someone who doesn’t want you?"

You saw something in his brown eyes, something you couldn’t quite identify, but it was intense. “Because you're different from others,” he said sharply. “True, women are not unattainable for me; they are always around. But what I want is someone special, and I feel that you are the one. There’s something about you that has ignited something in me I haven't felt in a long time. I must admit, I'm surprised; I never thought I’d be attracted to you after reading the news about you, but it seems I was wrong. Can you give me a chance? Please?”

Oh, Harry, there’s so much you don’t know, you thought. Your heart was fluttering at the thought of saying yes, but how could you? How dare you? You weren’t Melanie, the daughter of a wealthy businessman; you were just an ordinary girl.

“You know I won’t leave without hearing your answer, right?” He grunted.

Just then, you heard a car approaching, and you freaked out. That was Melanie’s dad’s car. Your heart nearly stopped.

“You have to go, like, now!” you yelled in a panic.

“First, say yes,” he replied, frowning.

"Si, yes, okay, alright! But please, go now!" you urged, pushing him toward the back of his car. He chuckled in response.

You crouched down to hide your face as the other car drove toward the mansion and pulled him down with you.

“I want you to know I’ve never done anything like this in my life,” he admitted, snickering.

“Is that so funny?” you snapped.

"Okay, I get that you don’t want your dad to see us like this, and I’m curious why, but since you said yes, I’ll be a good guy and leave."

“Yes you do that,” you said with a sigh.

Harry took his phone out of his pocket and waved it before getting into his car. “You’d better answer it when I call,” he said, getting inside. He winked at your puzzled expression and started the engine. His car quickly disappeared from sight along the road. You turned toward the mansion, exhaled deeply, and murmured to yourself.

“I'm so fucked.”

thanks for reading, likes, comments, reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[starsworldd]

Solar Return Sun in Houses

I know that this is a post that many creators on here have made, I thought i could add in some new ideas and such! ☀️

my readings are open :) ⭐️

sun in 1st house: there is a ton of opportunity given to you this year, even if natally your sun is in detriment (libra/aquarius). you may become more independent this year, you may become more noticeable or praised by others. even if you may be scared, this is your time to take life into your own hands. be sure to reach out to others regularly even if life forces you to focus on your personal endeavors the majority of the time. you may also learn to overcome some long-held fears this year.

sun in 2nd house: life may slow down a little bit (unless if there’s other indicators) with this placement in the chart. similar to the 1st house, there’s a good chance that people will give you praise even gifts/money for the skills and talents you possess. this is a good time to reorganize your life, to journal, to do some self care too. if you’re looking for a job that keep you stable, you may find that job this year and it could go quite smoothly with bosses. you will start to realize the importance of standing up for yourself.

sun in 3rd house: busy year, similar to that of the 1st house but it’s more externally-focused than you-focused. games, video games, long-convos could be happening much more frequently and be quite enjoyable for you this year. you could be receiving a lot of news around you, which includes being more exposed to gossip. you could get more attention for your charisma, humor, and/or charm. this year may force you to get more involved with your community/town, extracurriculars could be more expansive too.

sun in 4th house: you could be preparing for something this year. a lot of your family members could be proud of you for a particular achievement you made, you could also find some new coping mechanisms if you’ve been struggling with that too this year. this is a time where you could feel more connected with nature/universe itself. history, death, and the concept of nature’s cycles could be highlighted this year. this is a very transformational time in your life where you feel in-between worlds

sun in 5th house: recognition of some kind is likely for this year since the 5h is a house of honor/adoration, especially for those of you who have side hustles or passions you really want to express to the world. this year could be particularly memorable if paired with other prominent aspects in the solar or natal x solar chart. even if you may be an introvert you will be engaging in a variety of activities and probably going out more anyways (think late night drives, carnivals, doing art, etc…). overall, a very fun year ahead!

sun in 6th house: yes, schedules this routines that, but this year is one that will really build your fortitude and tenacity for whatever life may throw at you. the 6th house is a busy house, but not the same type of busy like 3rd house is. 6th house’s type of busy is about running more errands or doing more tasks to prepare for the bigger goals and visions you have for your life. you could be doing a lot more housework or drafting new plans for career as potential examples. you would come out this year stronger and more prepared for life

sun in 7th house: you could feel more inclined to follow people’s lead, depending on the sign this could be a year where you are exposed to a lot of new endeavors through others. the 7th house could also signify something to do with business so you may grow your business through partnerships or gaining praise from other people on your business or achievements. this is a year that can bring a lot of opportunity and where you will learn a lot of new things in general. you may start to become more aware of your impact on others.

sun in 8th house: i’m not going to sugarcoat it, this can prove to be a difficult year. while you may be able to get help from others easily and at the same time others would take you more seriously, there can be this feeling of never-ending burden as well. this is a year that tests how far your willing to go for your goals. is this your true calling? what bridges are you willing to burn down? what bad habits do you need to become more aware of? on the reverse, what life conditions imposed onto you are holding you back?

sun in 9th house: this is typically a joyous year because sun naturally rejoices in this house. you may feel much more free to do as you please this year but still supported nonetheless. you may see a lot of regiments or routines come to fruition or at least significantly progress this year. your view on life will definitely change for the better. even though you could still be surrounded by others, there’s definitely an internal pull to really focus on the changes made to yourself internally and/or externally this year.

sun in 10th house: as cliche as it is, yes recognition for your work(s) is to be expected of this year. this is a good indicator of big projects finally being released out into the world and finally reaping some rewards (but this also depends on the 11h + it’s ruling planet). very busy year, there’s likely a leveling up in your societal status (ex: marrying, new job, becoming a parent, etc…), you would be much happier and fulfilled in the work/projects you contribute to society overall this year. definitely an increase in popularity.

sun in 11th house: popularity is a crucial theme this year, you’re most likely involved with some new friend groups or extracurricular activities/clubs than you were beforehand, this is a great year to experiment socially and to find your “clique”. since this is the house of jupiter, you could have a lot of lucky moments this year not just socially but also in the opportunities you garner this year in advancing your status/career or money as well. a key word for this year is “opportunity”. you could be dealing with larger audiences/crowds too.

sun in 12th house: this is a very chaotic and externally a fast-paced year. but internally you could feel so confused about how to achieve your goals or that you often get side-tracked by a lot of other things. this is not to say that this confusion or side quests are necessarily bad, but this year could also be a very life-changing year and you will most likely not come out the same as before. on the flip-side, this could also be an indication that you are taking more vacations and breaks from work to focus more on other projects or self-healing.

hope you enjoyed!

[09layne]

Doing the notes game bc ive been really unmotivated lately but I have so much shit I need to get done. (Update holy fuck I didn’t expect that many so fast lol. Currently working on my assignments!)

20- Do at least 2 assignments I need to do

50- Do my full skin care routine

70-Do 2 more assignments

100- Clean my room and do housework

120- Do something that makes me happy like a hobby that ive been not doing

150- tell my therapist im non-human

10,000- come out to my mom as trans (this is mostly a joke I don’t expect this much but if I do get this many I guess im doing it😭)

[seoups]

ghost of you- k. nanami

kento struggles to live with your death and the ghost of your memories that remain in your apartment. cw: angst, mentions of death, the best piece of fiction i've ever written before, and nanami grieving song: ghost of you by 5sos

"THERE'S YOUR COFFEE CUP- THE LIPSTICK STAIN FADES WITH TIME."

The words fell like stones. Nanami didn’t react at first. He only stood there; his gaze fixed somewhat over Yuji’s shoulder. The only sound to be heard was the faint clench of his jaw. The boy’s voice cracked, spilling apologies and fragments of how it happened but Nanami couldn’t hear any of it. The meaning of the words- she’s gone- had already carved themselves into silence. Nanami left the school without saying another word, heading back towards your shared apartment.

The apartment was exactly as you’d left it. His coat hung beside yours on the rack, the sleeves limp and lifeless. Your new shoes that you hadn’t had a chance to wear out yet sat neatly by the door, the laces slightly undone, just as you’d always left them. The book you were reading lay open on the coffee table, it’s spine soft with wear. It was your favorite. You’d spent years trying to get your husband to read it. Nanami had always told you that he would read it when he had more down time. He never did.

Nanami stopped in the hallway, his eyes falling on the scarf you always wore in colder weather. It lay draped over the arm of the couch, forgotten in your rush to leave.

He remembered the day you bought it. You had dragged him to a night market on a whim, despite him protesting, saying he needed to prepare for an upcoming mission.  You spotted the crimson scarf at a stall, wrapping it around your neck in a clumsy attempt to barter with the vendor, the deep red fabric standing out against your dark coat.

Now, it lay there, untouched and lifeless, the vibrant red dulled by the fading light from the window.

The scarf was the first thing he allowed himself to touch. It’s fabric was still soft but frayed at the edges, torn from the way you’d twist it between your fingers when you were nervous. He’s watched you do it hundreds of times- before battles, during arguments, and before you told him you wanted to live with him.

He ran his thumb over the worn threads, his breath unsteady. The scarf still smelled of your perfume. But he knew that would fade too, given time.

He avoided bed that night, sitting at the kitchen table until he was too exhausted to bear the thought of sitting up.

The faint smell of jasmine still lingered from the tea you’d made before you left the apartment that morning. The mug remained untouched, your reddish lipstick staining the rim.

Nanami remembered how you’d always insisted on using that specific mug, despite it’s chipped rim, cradling it in your hands like it was a prized possession. You refused to buy a different mug even when Nanami teased you for still using it.

He stared at it now, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. He had meant to replace it. He should have.

His hand hovered over the mug, but he didn’t pick it up. Instead, he stepped back, his movements stiff and deliberate, as if afraid to disturb your daily routine.

Sometimes Nanami felt like he was seeing a ghost. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or his wish for you to come back but every now and then, he’d round the corner and see you sitting on the couch and he’d think it was the end of his bad dream.

He smelled you too. Walking down the city streets, he’d often smell the recognizable light jasmine scene of your perfume.

All he wished for was to see you once more.

Dust gathered in the apartment. Nanami noticed it one evening as the sunlight filtered through the curtains, highlighting the dust layer that had settled over the shelves. Your job was dusting. He was still used to letting you do that aspect of the housework.

Atop a shelf sat the photograph of you that Nanami had taken on your honeymoon in paris. He stood there for a long moment, admiring the candid shot of you laughing, your head tilted toward him, your eyes bright with something he couldn’t place. You’d never liked that photo, confused why Nanami insisted on framing it. It was Nanami’s favorite photo of you. He kept a copy of it in his wallet.

His hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach for the frame. Instead, he reached into his pocket and took his handkerchief, wiping the dust from the photo before turning away, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound as he moved through the apartment.

Nights were the hardest for him. The bed was too large for just him and much too empty now, offering no comfort. He slept in hours at a time, his dreams plagued with fragments of you- your smile, the sound of your voice, the way you’d call his  nickname.

“Ken,” you smiled.

He would wake up reaching for you, only to be met with the cold sheets and a hollow ache of reality as he didn’t feel your frame wrapped around his.

Nanami avoided your things, letting them gather dust like arifacts in a museum. Your notebook, filled with scribbles of journal entries remained untouched on your bedside table.

Once, he caught himself reaching for the notebook, his fingers hovering above the cover as though it were something sacred. He ached to hear your thoughts, the stupid and the good ones. But the thought of seeing your handwriting was too much. He left it where it was, retreating back to the kitchen to try to busy himself with boring everyday tasks.

Nanami reached for your notebook one night, unable to stop himself. Both the cover and pages were worn, littered with your handwriting- small, slanted letters that trailed off into half-finished thoughts.

He flipped through it carefully, his breath catching when he found a pressed flower tucked between the pages. He remembered the day you’d put it there. It was from the park, one you had plucked during a quiet moment during your picnic date with him.

You had smiled then, tucking the flower into your notebook without a word. Now, the fragile petals crumbled at his touch, their edges browning with time.

Food tasted different now. Nanami, who had once savored the art of cooking no longer felt the warmth he once felt when he cooked for you, letting you be the first to try his new dish. Being the first one to taste his food felt wrong. He’d always let the sink have the first spoon now.

More often than not, he would set out two plates by instinct, only to stop midway, staring at the empty space at the dining table. The second plate was always returned to the cupboard after he’d finished his mechanical and tasteless meal.

Nanami refused to speak of you, not even when prompted. Not even when Gojo made an offhanded comment about how quiet his apartment was. He simply nodded, deflecting the conversation with a remark about needing to get back to work.

But the silence stretched on, growing heavier each day. He’d become just as quiet as the apartment. His colleagues noticed how he presented himself differently. He had always been quiet and reserved at work but now it felt like he was missing his soul. There was no meaning to his work any longer. He did everything mundanely. Afterall, the only reason he rushed to finish his work before was wanting to come home to you. And now, the thought of coming home was daunting.

His new routine had swallowed him whole. Missions came and went, each one lacking more and more meaning as he continued. Nanami fought like a man with nothing to lose- precise, unflinching, yet with extreme recklessness. He’d already lost everything when he lost you, the fire he once felt for sorcery being extinguished when the very thing is what had led to your demise.

Nanami stood in the doorway of the apartment, looking at your methodical mess as he did every day when he got home. The air was still, undisturbed by your absence. Yet the apartment was full of everything you’d left behind. He hadn’t dared to move anything.

He closed his eyes, the scarf clutched in his hands, drawing in a shaky breath. The crimson scarf smelled like nothing now. The smell of your perfume had faded just like the last traces of you.

a/n: this was so depressing to write but i loved every second of it

© 2024 SEOUPS do not plagiarize, steal, translate or repost my works on any platforms!

[letmeeaseyourburden]

Your husband sat you down at the table and took out some papers. "Since we started dating, I have been slowly reshaping you to be the women I want you to be. So, let's go over what I accomplished."

He takes out the first page called appearance. And he starts going down the list.

1. All of your pants and shorts are gone. Only dresses and skirts. More and more of them vintage outfits.

2. No more ugly underwear. All you have is pretty lingerie. And far more of it.

3. Your makeup is always done. And you are better at it.

4. Your hair is styled the way he likes it.

5. Using corsets he has been encouraging waist training for you. And it shows.

6. Your workout routine has been improving your ass and legs. Along with your flexibility.

7. Posture training has improved your posture.

8. The dance classes have made your movements more fluid.

"We still have a little more to do, but this is coming along nicely." He puts a gold star on your progress report. And takes a pretty princess one and puts it on your forehead.

The next sheet says Behaviors.

1. Speaking softly. Your loudness and brashness has gone away.

2. Language. You have stopped swearing. And you are using smaller words.

3. Being submissive. You obey so much better than our first date. You are an eager little good girl now.

4. Being demure in public. Now you refer all questions to me. You understand that at a party you are to be pretty, quiet, and only discuss silly things with your girlfriends.

5. Being an excellent hostess. The cooking classes did wonders. As did the etiquette classes.

He gives you another gold star on your chart. Then, he puts a good girl sticker on your cheek.

The last sheet says Fuck Toy.

1. You have accepted and learned you enjoy being free use to me.

2. Training you to get aroused just by doing housework has been working. Bending you over, and fucking you while vacuuming, I found you to be very wet.

3. Understanding that my pleasure comes first. You have made huge strides here. And clearly learned you are happier pleasing than being pleased.

4. Being pretty for me. You dress for my approval now and are so much happier.

5. You cocksucking skills are better. You still need to deep throat better.

6. You are now always prepared for anal. A major improvement.

A silver star joins the gold star. "I would ask if you have any thoughts, but we both know they would be silly."

[scvrgrl]

don’t worry darling | vinsmoke sanji x fem!reader

sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second...

word count: 2.6k

cw/tags: afab/fem!reader, housewife!sanji, established relationship, high school sweethearts, mature language, modern!au, fluff, porn with a lil plot, cunnilingus, slight suffocation (it's okay he likes it), use of pet names ("darling", "sweetheart", etc.), and other crazy shit i probably forgot to mention, MDNI pls!!!

if you're unfamiliar with frankie avalon's 'venus', you can find the song here!

frustration throbbed beneath the soft skin of your temples, vessels threatening to pop under the weight of your irritation. countless hours spent at your stuffy office job called for silent drives home with the windows down, the cool summer breeze drowning out the musty scent that stuck to your clothes.

the warm kitchen light illuminated the red brick of the windowsill as you pulled into the driveway. the hum of a soulful tune spills from the window, Etta James' voice synchronizing with the longing beat of your heart. polished glass slightly ajar graced you with a glimpse into your own loving home, the home you shared with you husband. your eyes landed on the sight of your husband's well-dressed back, cigarette in hand as he swayed along to the tune. you instantly recognized the maroon dress shirt that clung to his sculpted frame, a piece of his expansive wardrobe he knew was one of your favorites. his gaze was focused on the sizzling pan before him, tossing its contents gently as he took a long drag. it was small acts of service like these that made your heart swell, traces of harsh footsteps washed away from the shore of your mind.

slipping off your work shoes, Sanji's firm hands snake around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss. your head swims as he dives into you, teeth brushing together as you smile. the smell of spice and nicotine floods your senses, a familiar warmth pooling deep in your stomach.

"hello, my love," Sanji greets tenderly, palm rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. "how was work today?"

"long," you sighed, shrugging off your coat. "how was your day? i smell something cooking."

Sanji chuckles at the sight of your nose switching upwards, inhaling the savory aroma of meat and starches. "mine was just fine, dear. i've been prepping dinner all day — it's your favorite! grilled chicken with garlic potatoes and veggies, just the way you like it."

the thought of the delicious meal made your stomach grumble, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Sanji's raspy laughter filled the silence as he brought you close to his chest, his thrumming heart filling your ears. the beat synchronized with the introduction to Frankie Avalon's 'Venus,' your coupled bodies swaying to the soft melody. a thick, sultry hum vibrates against your temple as Sanji begins to sing along:

"Venus, goddess of love that you areee," he drawled, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "surely the things i ask, can't be too great a task.."

overwhelming gratitude filled your chest as you whisked away in the foyer of your home, the home you shared with Sanji. he was the man of your dreams, often staying home to tend to housework while you provided for your growing family. when you first started dating, he offered to work for the rest of your life if it meant that you would never have to worry ever again. your high school sweetheart was always overly ambitious, constantly feeling the need to reassure him that wouldn't be necessary. despite always complaining about your nosey coworkers, you enjoyed working as it gave you a stable routine amidst the chaos of your life. Sanji was another grounding force that kept you afloat, a factor in your life that you knew would remain constant. his place in your heart was set in stone, an immovable force that no disaster could shake.

you crane your neck upwards to meet his soothing gaze, using the palm of your hand to gently cup his cheek. scratchy stubble of a clean shaven face grazed your soft skin, the pads of your thumb tracing the wear of his under eyes. Sanji sacrifices his time at the restaurant for you, cutting down his hours so that you can come home to a clean house with a fresh meal decorating the dining table. sheltered in the haze of cigarette smoke and you are Sanji's favorite evenings. but it would be a lie to say that you don't worry about your husband's wellbeing. worried that he prioritizes your needs over his own.

"you know you don't have to do this, sweetheart. i'm perfectly fine with coming home to take-out and a movie date on the couch. i'm worried you're stretching yourself thin for my sake," you said shyly, sympathetic.

Sanji took your hand in his, bringing the back of it to his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss, "I'm fine, [y/n]. i promise you that everything i do, i do out of free will. now let me take care of you by feeding you—"

overcome with emotion and desire for your husband, you crash your lips into his, cutting his sentence short. your firm grasp on the nape of his warm neck guided him into you, Sanji matching your pace with practiced ease. the kiss began tenderly, spoke a language no words in the English language could proclaim. but with the kind of day you've had, you craved more and more of his delicate touch. you wanted to make up for all the lost time you spent wasting away in that dusty office while your husband worked, busying himself as he patiently awaited your arrival.

small nibbles and desperate pulls of velvety skin intensified your need, a fervid heat beginning to pool between your thighs. Sanji's strong hands worked at your waist, tugging your hips into his, now painfully aware of the clothing that separated the two of you. "off" was the word tattooed to the forefront of your mind, the power it held in what it meant drove you to a euphoric high as you pressed yourself further into him. as if you couldn't feel more alive, Sanji hoisted you up into the air, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved with purpose. you gasped in shocked pleasure at the height, staring into his deep blue eyes before colliding once again. you had no idea where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. all you knew was that you needed him. and you needed him now. hell, he could take you right here on the floor if he really wanted to, ruining the pristine condition he worked to maintain throughout the day.

to your surprise, a firm surface clashes with the soft plush of your ass, Sanji using it as an instrument to aid your pleasure. his gentle hand is now rested under your knee, spreading your thighs ever-so-slightly to claim his spot between them. the thick hard-on beneath his dark slacks grazes your aching core with every dip and thrust. your hips buck mindlessly, chasing that sensation as you grow increasingly more wet under his touch. the taut material of your work pants begin to prickle your legs, your arousal bleeding into a feverish sweat. off.

"off, Sanji," you whimpered, eyes half lidded as you tugged at your waistband. "take these off."

Sanji, never one to deny your request, began to fiddle with the metallic loops and buckles of your pants. his hot mouth lowered down to your neck as he peeled the pants clean off. the snap of the loud fabric pulled your mouth into a naughty smirk, planting your feet on the tabletop as you raised your knees to your chest. the sight of your sopping panties now on full display to the rest of your house, the ghosts of warm memories swimming around you as you drink in the sight of the blond man under you. a raspy moan escaped from your lips as Sanji tugged the supple skin of your neck with his teeth, hungrily satisfying your flesh as his hands wandered down to your hips.

his slender fingers hooked under the thin elastic of your panties, the pastel pink fabric darkened with your arousal. you lifted your hips into him once more, inviting him to pull them off and take you. Sanji has always been fluent in your body's language, taking your wordless request into consideration as he obeyed your command. the room's stuffy draft drifted cooly over the heat rising from your core, the sensation urging your craving to be touched. you craned your neck back, raking your fingers through messy blonde waves as you gave Sanji full access to the expansive plane of skin. his lips surged into yours as his fingers trailed softly between your folds, your slick painting his fingertips. his teasing touch caused you to moan against his ear, the absence of necessary friction driving you crazy.

"touch me harder," you pleaded, writhing your hips into his touch.

Sanji pulled his fingers away instantly, earning an irritated groan from you. his hands caressed the supple skin around your pulsing cunt, gently massaging circles to ease your tensing muscles below.

"shhh, it's okay sweetheart. we have time," Sanji hushed gently, one of his palms cupping your cheek.

leaning into his touch, you huffed and shuddered under his intense gaze. your cheeks flushed a fierce pink as your bottom half lay open and exposed, his own growing erection dangerously close to your cunt. his thumb brushed your bottom lip lightly, the slick of your saliva gliding it effortlessly into your mouth. your tongue hollowed as you tasted his finger, twisting and sucking it further down your throat. the smell of smoke and ash intoxicating as you tasted his fingertips, growing envious of the addiction he spends so much time satisfying. you never broke eye contact as you did so, watching his resolve crumble with every swipe and stroke. completely mesmerized by the way your head bobbed around his finger, Sanji dove further, earning a sweet gag out of you.

"will you fuck me now?" you asked around his finger, tone thick and full with arousal. your fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt, undoing them agonizingly slow to reveal your breasts.

Sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second.

his slick thumb trailed down your exposed middle, each pass igniting a flame as he inched closer and closer to your needy pussy. you watched breathlessly as he met your core, his finger tracing lazy circles over your swollen clit. every rub sent jolts of electricity deep into your stomach, muscles beginning to constrict as your orgasm builds. Sanji's hand found its way into your bra, kneading the plush skin of your breast as he stimulated you below. the attention drove you wild, your breath hitching in your throat as it grew unbearable. you needed him inside you, needed him to brutally attack that gummy spot that sent you reeling.

Sanji lowered himself between your thighs, his warm breath ghosting over your drooling cunt. he exhaled a satisfied groan as he slid a finger inside, twisting and hooking to tease your g-spot.

"so needy," he purred, placing a tender kiss on your puffy clit. you flinched from the contact, rocking your hips into his rhythm as he eased in a second finger. "its hard to believe you could work in these conditions, my love. you're so tense! use me, baby. use me to let go and relief yourself."

a whiny, pitchy moan dragged out from your lips, throwing your head back as he pumped ferociously inside of you. Sanji's tongue teased and suckled at your flesh simultaneously, lapping up your sweet nectar as you slowly released around his hold. just as your thighs began to tremble and twitch, Sanji removed his fingers, your cunt pulsing frantically in their absence. it wasn't long before he dove back in, replacing his hands with his wild tongue. you writhed as he pried your thighs apart, his firm grasp trying its best to keep you in place. your back hit the thin linen sheet that draped over the dining table, fisting the fabric as you rode your high.

lewd sounds of your slick lapping against his tongue mingled with the clang of rattling silverware, a melody of desperate moans joining the symphony. your hands found their way into his honey-blonde hair once again, Sanji's scalp stinging as you tugged.

"fuck Sanji! right there! don't stop i'm close.." you cried out, eyes watering as you shut them tightly. the moans escaping you were deafening, the old wood beneath you vibrating. you could feel Sanji smiling into you, his lips curling into a smirk as he continued to ravage you.

your neck snapped upwards, chin pressed against your chest as you watched your husband eat you out. the sight alone was enough to make you come — his dark lashes resting softly against his rosy cheeks, the slick of your arousal soaking his face and shirt. you made a mental note to handle his laundry for the next few days, tending to the stain before it could ruin the delicate fabric.

with every buck and roll of your hips, Sanji began to whine into your core, his erection growing painful under the confines of his pants. but he was determined to make you finish right into his mouth. the taste of you was intoxicating, a flavor Sanji never wished to forget. he could devour you for every meal for the rest of his life and not once would he go hungry. you satisfied him, in sex, in love, in life. you were the one, tinkered to perfection just for him.

"come for me, sweetheart" Sanji begged, his fingers sliding into you once more, beckoning for your sweet release. the rhythmic pump and curl of his fingers sending you right over the edge.

your grip on his hair tightened as you brought him into you, his lips suctioning around your aching cunt as he drank you in. in the heat of your orgasm, you cleared the table entirely as you grabbed at anything to stabilize your convulsing body. a cacophony of clattering silverware and shattering ceramic filled the room, then world around you crumbling along with your resolve.

"yes! yes! yes! oh my god—" you exclaimed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clamped your thighs around Sanji's head. the force of your skin into his temples was enough to make his ears ring, a dull pain lingering under your touch. but none of that mattered. the temporary pain Sanji felt in this moment could never amount to the irritation you endured every day away from home. he would do anything to relieve you of that burden, and if suffocating him between your thighs was the way to go, he would do it a thousand times over.

the crippling realization of your actions snapped you out of your euphoria, rising to sit up as you took in the sight around you. shards of white ceramic dishes scattered across the floor, your now-dirty silverware accompanying the mess. you brought your hands to your face, hiding it out of shame.

"i'm so sorry, love. i'll clean it up," you apologized, scooting off the table. a soft hand on your shoulder stops you, Sanji's gaze a mixture of gratitude and sincerity.

"don't even worry about it," he began, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "go wash up and i'll have this all cleaned up by the time you're back!"

you sighed, relieved that after all the work he's been through today, Sanji was still willing to help you. "what did i do to deserve such a loving husband?"

Sanji smiled softly, using his free hand to push the wild strands of hair out of your face. "i've been hooked on you since the day i met you, [y/n]. all you had to do was be yourself."

sanji has worked his way into my heart and i cannot shake this beautiful man i adore him with my entire being

and yes, this inspired by that one scene from ‘don’t worry darling’. it was a calling and who am i to turn down divine intervention?

[nicka-nell]

hq toxic traits? 👀👀

Hi! Lets do some short toxic traits then :))

Their toxic traits

Pairing: Osamu x, Atsumu x, Suna x, Kita x, Kuroo x, Ushijima x, Semi x, Shirabu x, Sakusa x, Oikawa x, Iwaizumi x, Bokuto x, Akaashi x, Sawamura x, Sugawara x, Azumane x, Kageyama x, Hinata x, Tsukishima x, Yamaguchi x reader

Warning: toxic traits obviously

MIYA OSAMU

Osamu is stubborn as hell.

He would rather sulk in the corner and give you the silent treatment than give in. 

He holds onto his grudge for a long time and would never apologize on his own initiative. 

In the end, you’re always the one who gives in and approaches him. But what’s the saying again? The wiser gives in…

MIYA ATSUMU

Atsumu often lies. Whether he does it willingly or subconsciously, he probably doesn’t even know. 

He forgot to hang the laundry outside? He couldn’t do it because it was raining so hard. Obviously a lie. 

If you confront him with his lies, he quickly slips into the victim's role and acts as if he is the poor victim and is always misunderstood by others. 

SUNA RINTAROU

Suna is good at manipulation. Especially when it comes to getting around things he doesn’t like. 

Whether it’s cleaning the apartment or meeting your friend that he doesn’t like, Suna always finds a way to wrap up his words so that you end up doing the housework or doing something alone with your, for him annoying, friend. 

Sometimes he wraps things up so well that he almost lets you fall into a guilt trap and makes you feel bad for a second.

KITA SHINSUKE

Kita is a bit of a perfectionist and absolutist. 

You’re organizing a housewarming party at your home and invite your friends? Of course, but not before Kita has checked twenty times whether everything is really clean, whether the food is prepared properly and whether there are enough slippers for everyone. 

Is one rose in your bouquet already hanging its head and wilted? If so, he removes it from the vase first so that everything is perfect. 

Discussions are sometimes very difficult. Depending on what the two of you are discussing, he closes himself off at a certain point and no longer allows other arguments or opinions. 

KUROO TETSUROU

He’s an absolute workaholic.

Kuroo enjoys his work. It also involves a lot of responsibility. That’s why he often works overtime. 

You’re on vacation and just want to relax on the beach together? But not without Kuroo’s business phone. 

Would he cancel his vacation if things were stressful at work and his team couldn’t manage without him? Yes. 

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

Ushijima is not empathetic at all.

You feel bad because your colleague is mean to you and you want to vent to Ushijima? Just want to be hugged? No. “Talk to your boss” is the answer you get with a nod, immediately followed by the question of whether you’ve already finished the grocery list.  

Ushijima is also not flexible. You want to go to the cinema spontaneously? Then you’d better book it a week in advance so that you can fit it into your weekly schedule. Because Ushijima is a routine guy. Get up in the morning, get ready, go jogging, have breakfast, take a shower, say goodbye to you, go to training, come home, have lunch, go to his agency or attend appointments made by his agency, come home in the evening, greet you, have dinner and then spend time with you before getting ready for bed. 

SEMI EITA

Semi is a natural flirt, even if he does it subconsciously. 

Through his band, he often has gigs and when his fans talk to him, he quickly slips into light flirting. 

Nice compliments like “Oh you are really very pretty”, “With such pretty fans I have to be careful that I don’t start stuttering on stage” are a standard or light touches like touching the shoulders of his fans, patting them on the head and so on. 

However, he would never hook up with a fan ever. He would always remain loyal to you. 

SHIRABU KENJIROU

Shirabu is really stingy. 

You want to go out for dinner with him? Then only if you split the bill and each pay for what you have eaten and drunk. Tipping? No, he wouldn’t tip the waiter but always gives the money correctly.

Shirabu also tends to come across as arrogant and overbearing in some situations. 

Probably one reason why your friends didn’t like him at first. 

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Sakusa is incredibly bad at replying. If you write him a message, he either replies days later or not at all. Not because he doesn’t want to answer you, but because he simply forgets and you’re usually together in the evenings anyway, unless he’s abroad. 

But if you don’t get back to him after three hours, he gets restless and sometimes even angry because he’s worried. 

Besides, Sakusa is someone who likes to use silent-treatment when you’ve had a fight. You had an argument about a party you were at with friends? Be prepared for Sakusa to ignore you until you apologize to him, even though you haven’t done anything wrong. 

OIKAWA TOORU

Like Semi, Oikawa is also a natural flirt. He really enjoys it when girls crowd around him and give him compliments and gifts. 

Does he compliment them? Definitely. He loves the way the girls blush, giggle and look up at him in embarrassment. Would he try to get into their pants? Absolutely not. He also remains loyal. 

But Oikawa is an absolute attention slut. He loves to be the center of everything. When he’s not, he gets whiny and does everything he can to get back in the spotlight. 

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

Iwaizumi’s heart rate quickly rises as he sometimes has anger issues. 

Would he get violent with you? No, absolutely not. 

But sometimes he raises his voice from one moment to the next and you shrink back so fearfully that you are afraid his hand will slip out. 

However, Iwaizumi usually notices this immediately and apologizes straight away, then lowers his voice again very quickly and gives you a gentle hug. 

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

Bokuto is always too quick to take everything to heart. Even normal things like, “Koutarou, I’m not in the mood to go out to dinner with you today. I have a headache.” He often takes this to imply that you don’t want to spend time with him and don’t love him as much as you used to. 

Sometimes it’s really exhausting to keep up his good mood. 

Bokuto is also lazy when it comes to housework. Is the toilet paper is empty? Never mind, the roll won’t be refilled. If he then sits down on the toilet again and realizes that the roll is still empty, he would rather take a towel, dab himself dry and throw the towel in the laundry basket than refill the toilet roll. 

AKAASHI KEIJI

Akaashi tries to avoid conflicts as much as possible. 

If you have an argument with friends, then you can assume that Akaashi is not joining you to find a solution to your disagreements, but has probably just remembered that it is important to dust the houseplants right now, at this very moment. Leaf by leaf. 

An argument between you two? It doesn’t actually happen very often, as Akaashi would rather give in directly than let a discussion arise. 

SAWAMURA DAICHI

Oh, he’s a little people pleaser. 

He often seems strict, and everyone actually has respect for him. But Sawamura often can’t say no. 

You wanted to spend an evening together, just the two of you again after a long time? Yes... well, no, that’s not happening. Azumane asked if he could spend the night with you because he had a quarrel with his girlfriend. 

Sugawara asks if Sawamura can come to school and give a lecture about crime, since he has some trouble students, even though you actually have a day off today, just like Sawamura? Well, now you’re probably the only one who still has a day off and is waiting outside the elementary school for Sawamura to come out again. 

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

Sugawara doesn’t admit it, but he is very jealous. Sometimes even of his friends if they get a little too close to you. 

He often questions whether he is really good enough for you and always talks himself down instead of just talking to you. 

Sugawara is also often stuck in the past. He thinks about all the good times from the past and often forgets to live in the present or think about the future. 

AZUMANE ASAHI

Azumane is often negative and has fears and worries about the future.

Even if a moment is beautiful, such as a friend’s wedding, Azumane is sad. His only question is whether you will reach this point at some point or whether the future has other plans for you. 

In general, you can listen to his worries about the future at least once a month. Most of the time, however, his worries are completely unjustified. 

KAGEYAMA TOBIO 

Kageyama is selfish. 

He always thinks of himself first and then of others. Not that it’s bad to think, but with Kageyama it’s sometimes very extreme. 

For example, he makes sure he always has enough protein and enough to eat, so anything left over you can have. He never thinks badly of it, but he needs a well-trained body for his job. 

HINATA SHOUYOU

Hinata is always very competitive. Sometimes a little too much. 

Which of you is first at the front door? Mostly Hinata, and he’s usually happy. And that’s really not a bad thing. 

But once, after a very intimate moment of affection, he was lying next to you, both of you out of breath, and instead of saying something like “I love you”, he just said “ha, if you were pregnant, that would be another victory for me and a defeat for Kageyama, because we’d be the first to become parents”. You wish you could have kicked him off the bed. 

TSUKISHIMA KEI

Tsukishima is often pessimistic. He always sees the negative first before reality convinces him otherwise. Because often things aren’t as bad as he always claims at first. 

Besides, Tsukishima is a tease! He loves to bother you. For him, it’s all playful and never really serious. 

It’s probably his way of showing you that he loves you, but he often crosses the line and doesn’t realize that he’s hurting you sometimes. 

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI

Yamaguchi always talks himself down. He can never understand why other people like him for his character. 

That’s why you often have to talk to Yamaguchi when you come back from events. 

The couple next to you at the table in the restaurant had a much more expensive meal, much more expensive drinks, and Yamaguchi could only invite you to a simple menu. Again, he talks himself down, that he doesn’t deserve you, that you would have a better life with another man by your side. Only when you talk to him for several minutes, kissing and smiling at him, does he regain some self-confidence. 

[gothghostiie]

babysitter!reader chronicles continue because I babysat the whole weekend and obviously cannot catch a break

cw: comfort, reader has a strong reaction to things breaking, gn!reader

thinking about price being gone overnight, having you sleep over so he doesn't stress about coming home. he knows you don't mind sleeping on his couch and he knows his little munchkin is safe with you. you get to spend the morning with the baby who decided to wake up extra early, making some easy breakfast for both of you, hanging out the whole day, it's routine by now. in the afternoon you make a snack and decide to make some tea for both of you - the little one definitely got it's love for tea from John.

It's all good and well, until you have to put the infant down for a second to fill the electric kettle with water. you put it right next to the sink and put the little one down, telling them that they'll be right back in your arms, just let you boil the water. the baby coos as you stand up and turn around: just to be met with the sounds of crashing and clattering, and with the sight of glass shards. you immediately pick up the baby and stumble back, eyes wide as you try to process what the fuck just happened, your heart racing and your hands shaking. you have to do everything in your power to not let out a string of courses as you look at the broken kettle, trying to figure out what to do.

you decide the best course is put the baby to the safety of it's high chair while you pick up the big shards, it goes just fine until you grab the vacuum cleaner to get the small shards. the baby starts fussing, making grabby hands at you, your heart clenches. so now you're vacuuming, baby on your hip, holding on tightly. its all fine until you put the vacuum cleaner away and have a moment to gather your thoughts, the waterworks start flowing big time.

you try your hardest to hold back as you make the tea and the food, sniffling while the occasional sob falls from your lips. the baby keeps looking at you confused, touching your face and tilting their head, babbling softly as if trying to ask why you're crying. you just keep a hold of them and try to smile at them, sitting down to eat with them as you try to figure out how to tell John you broke his electric kettle.

tears are still flowing as you type out a text, not brave enough to tell him face to face. you almost wanna throw your phone out after the text is sent, but you just put it into your pocket. you distract yourself with housework, with the baby, still occasionally tearing up, when your phone vibrates.

its a simple message from John; 'be home soon.'

you can feel the nausea rise in your belly, hands trembling again as your mind goes a mile a minute. he didn't even say anything to you telling him the kettle broke, just that he's home soon. your head goes from anything to you're being fired to you'll end up never being allowed around any child ever. you try your hardest to distract yourself, cleaning up a last time before putting on a kids' movie and sitting on the couch with the baby. you're fidgeting with your fingers, you're nervous, anxious, almost near tears - your heart stops when you hear the keys jingle in the door. you freeze up, glancing at him from your place on the couch as he walks in, boots thudding heavy on the floor. he stretches with a groan, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket before making his way over to the two of you. he stops right in front of you, arms crossed as he bends down - just to coo at his baby.

"there's my little angel, missed me?" he smiles softly, but quickly frowns as he seed the expression on your face. he knits his brows, staying leaned down to the two of you. "hey, whats the matter? you look like a kicked puppy, love." he chuckles gently, trying to coax a smile out of you, but it doesn't work. you look down at the yawning baby, grabbing at John's arms, wanting to be held.

you mumble another apology, causing him to huff in confusion before it dawns on him. "love, this isn't about the broken kettle, is it?" he asks, sighing softly as you keep quiet. he finally picks up the cooing baby, it immediately nuzzles into him. "wait here." he mutters softly, putting the sleepy baby down for a nap in the nursery before coming back to you. his arms are crossed, hes frowning, you barely even look at him; not even when he sits down next to you. "c'mere, bird." he murmurs, patting the side of his thigh, lifting his arm.

your eyes widen a bit, you hesitate before scooting closer. a strong arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "there there. you're okay love, it's alright." he says softly, quietly, as if talking to his little one. "there's no need to be scared, yea? I'm not angry." you glance up at him, still unsure. he kisses your head gently. "it's just a kettle. I'll get a new one tomorrow." his strong hand keeps a hold of your arm, caging you against his side, the other resting on your knee with the thumb rubbing gentle circles.

you mutter another apology as tears threaten to spill again, he shushes you gently. "no, no. none of that. and no tears either, bird. its okay. these things happen." he holds you tighter, soothing you gently as you nod. he holds you like this until he feels the tension in your body lessen, finally accepting his words and that he's not mad. he presses another kiss onto your head.

"just do me a favour next time.." he hums, his tone teasing as he bites back a chuckle. "if you don't like my kettle, tell me. no need to break it.

[northopalshore]

🎐6th House Synastry

: Acts of service

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୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

Opener:

🍃 Someone's stellium in your 6th house & vice versa is honestly one of my favourite things to see in a romantic synastry chart. The amount of times I've seen this just written down as one person being enslaved to the other person is crazy.

🍃Of course it could be the case if other aspects line up or if this is a synastry chart between an employee and their boss but it's not going to be like that for every person reading. Especially not in a romantic/close relationship.

🍃Depending on the rest of your charts of course, this could also mean that both parties will make an excellent team i.e doing housework, handling chores, groceries and children if they have any.

🍃There is a theme of acts of service as a means to show how much they care for each other. At first, the stellium person/planet person will feel a natural pull to help the house person be it with the smallest things in their life. It sort of develops into a habit. As time progresses, this habit will also latch onto the house person as they see it is a natural way to reciprocate the appreciation towards the stellium/planet person.

🍃This is common in synastry charts of people who have been married for a very long amount of time.

🍃This is because the 6th house represents daily life. Having someone's personal planets in your 6th house means that part of their lives ( depending on the planet ) fits naturally into your daily routine. Common in couples who are mature & devoted to each other, not the fling type honestly.

Planets in the 6th house

🧤 Having their Sun in your 6th house:

means that their identity, their ego, and self expression align with your daily life. They could enjoy being around you every day even when all you're doing together is laying around watching a streaming service. It's important for them to feel needed & appreciated by the 6th house person.

🧤 Their Moon in your 6th house:

You'll love having each other around to cope with the stress of your daily lives. The moon person uses acts of service as a way to show their closeness or appreciation to you. Feeling loved by being cared for.

🧤 Their Saturn in your 6th house:

You'll feel like they bring stability into your life. If you're the type to lose track of your medication, they will be the ones to remind you or even buy you one of those weekly pill capsules. How cute!

🧤 Their Mars in your 6th house:

The mars person will be a motivator & protector to the 6th house person. They may encourage you to be more physically active, taking care of your physical needs. Going on walks together, going to the gym together. They may also be quite possessive of your time i.e prefer not to share one on one time with other people.

🧤 Their Mercury in your 6th house:

They love giving you advice on how to improve your health, work ethics, and routine. They could unconsciously be thinking about your wellbeing when you are apart.

🧤 Their Venus in your 6th house:

They could love to have dates at home, spa nights, their perfect date plan would include a long deep soak in the bath with rose petals & bubbles in the water after a long hard day at work. Both will be on similar wavelength in terms of love languages. Bringing home flowers, building furniture to help you organise your stuff.

🧤 Their Uranus in your 6th house:

They might shake up your routine in a way. (i.e before you met you just stayed home all day and now you're going out with them more often)

🧤 Their Pluto in your 6th house:

They'll change the way you live, or you work. They could either make it easier i.e taking all the responsibility away from you by providing so you don't have to work, or add an extra person to your routine i.e them lol.

🧤 Their Jupiter in your 6th house:

They could bring luck into your work life, & may expand your to-do list i.e adding events into your life. You'll find that they are very supportive of you & may spoil you with material things. They may add emphasis into this aspect of your life i.e overindulgence in healthcare, over exercising depending on other aspects. They will act as a friend & guide to you when it comes to work, chores & health.

🧤 Their Chiron in your 6th house:

Their presence is very healing to the 6th house person. They may teach you whatever has plagued your mind about chores will not harm you anymore i.e growing up in a misogynistic household where you had to do all the chores. They could experience some fatigue in this area however. Perhaps they may be feeling overworked too if there is no reciprocation in terms of helping the other with housework.

🧤 Their Neptune in your 6th house:

Playing music could be a theme when doing housework together or when on dates together. There could be an emphasis on religion or spirituality between the both of you. Their presence may be very healing or vice versa in your routine.

The difference i.e how this overlay plays out between the couple depends on the sign the 6th house is under.

6th house in the signs

🌬️ Aries:

They might be quite fussy when it comes to chores. Wanting everything to be done quickly & not necessarily tidy. They will be the first to do anything for the 6th house person however, even if they complain about disliking it.

🌬️ Taurus :

Very romantic. The planet person may love cooking for the 6th house person. They may prefer to do chores when they are together instead of doing it alone.

🌬️ Gemini:

The planet person may give a lof of advice to the 6th house person helping them find better ways to do their routine i.e teaching them better folding methods to save their time. They'll add more entertainment & enthusiasm to the 6th house person's routine.

🌬️ Cancer:

Very soft, caring & gentle. Both parties want to provide eachother with as much affection and comfort into their routine/daily life as possible.

🌬️ Leo:

The planet person takes a very romantic & flamboyant approach into caring for the 6th house person. Both parties will enjoy adding fun & romance into their daily routine.

🌬️ Virgo:

Similar to Aries in which they can act tsundere about doing chores, however, there is this natural affinity to wanting to do things for the 6th house person. Making sure everything is done perfectly. They want to be seen as valuable to their partner.

🌬️ Libra:

Similar to Taurus. Both parties make sure that nobody feels underappreciated. Meaning the 6th house person will do just as much as the planet person does for them.

🌬️ Scorpio:

When the planet person starts doing things for you, you better acknowledge that they consider you as someone to love in the long-term. They may prefer to do things that nobody else would do for the 6th house person.

🌬️ Sagittarius:

They may enjoy taking you out on spontaneous dates often. Getting you out of the house or out of a rut. When doing chores, they'll try to make it as entertaining as possible.

🌬️ Capricorn:

Sugar daddy/mommy vibes lol. The planet person will likely enjoy doing most of the traditional responsibilities in a partnership i.e paying for dates, taking care of the house.

🌬️ Aquarius:

Adding spontaneity into the 6th house person's life i.e unplanned dates. Being more rebellious & innovative in terms of work . Preferring to dress up strangely (costumes) at home while doing the dishes lol.

🌬️ Pisces:

They may romanticise their chores, daily life & routine. Adding more spiritual or religious aspects into the house person's life. They may prefer to indulge eachother in holistic healing over modern healthcare.

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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*** entertainment purposes only: reader discretion is advised***

Thank you for reading ⁠♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore synastry astrology 2024 all rights reserved. Disclaimer

[emotionally-cuckolded]

It's a routine that always makes you feel a deep sense of inferiority and shame -- especially when she teases you about having to live pussy free and having to do all the housework -- but you also know the whole nature of your marital relationship is one that -- however painful it is for you at times -- really pleases her.

[mint-8]

Platonic Yandere Grandparent x GN! Reader

- Yandere Grandparent whose life was monochrome and seamlessly endless. Waking up every day for the same routine, work, eat and sleep. Some socializing here and there and spending time with their family, but not feeling any sort of true happiness or enjoyment from it.

- Yandere Grandparent who simply followed what school, their parents and peers told them. Study, get a good job, marry and have a child or two.

- Yandere Grandparent who might not have been the best parental figure to their own kids, perhaps abusive? Negligent? Absent? What about their spouse? Perhaps leaving them all the housework, childcare or money making?

- They weren’t even that interested when their children married. Not really caring at that point of their lives either, just waiting for the inevitable death to come to them and, perhaps then, it would be more entertaining.

- Yandere Grandparent whose life was finally given color and light the moment their eyes landed on you, their first grandchild. They weren’t excited when they got the news, just curious. What a pay off it was to endure the nagging of their spouse and the annoying traffic to find little, chubby adorable you in their offspring’s arms.

- Yandere Grandparent who truly smiles for the first time when your eyes open and you smile at them! Their eyes watering a bit when they get to hold you for the first time, and refusing to let go when you hold one of their fingers in your soft baby hand.

- Yandere Grandparent who felt love for the first time ever and who promised that they’ll look after you, in this life and the many new ones to come.

- Yandere Grandparent who visits practically every day to visit their little niece and spoil them with affections. From treats to toys to cute clothes, they would happily spent all their savings to give you a smile.

- Yandere Grandparent who insists to their children to continue to go out for some dates with their partner! You two are so young after all! And don’t you worry about their little niece, for Yandere Grandparent will happily look after them! It doesn’t matter what their own spouse says, their opinion is irrelevant to them and they will have no problem ignoring them if necessary.

- Yandere Grandparent who secretly wishes their kids turn out to be abusive so they can be your legal guardian and keep you all for themselves! Oh, and their spouse too, of course. As long as they aren’t too much of a pain.

- Yandere Grandparent who is so, so, so happy that whatever higher deity out there gifted them a living proof that happiness is real and that they can actually love like a normal person. Well, their definition of normal, of course.

- Yandere Grandparent who is overbearing and it’s pretty much involved in every single thing you do. They attend every recital, show, competition and event that you might be involved in! Always bringing their special camera for their special album of memories of you and with your favorite drinks and snacks on their bag as a little treat.

- Yandere Grandparent who offers a heavy amount of financial support to your parents so that you can go to the best schools or have the best tutors available. They don’t want you to suffer in this horrible world like they did! So let Gran-Gran decide the best and easiest path of success for you! They know what they are doing.

- Yandere Grandparent who tells you so many stories about their lives and gives you the best advice they can offer, as well as 100% support in whatever thing you want to do or are interested in! That includes siding with you in every possible argument between you and your parents.

- Yandere Grandparent who knows that they will definitely die before you, but are willing to prolong that due date the most they can. And who will leave their entire inheritance to you, so you’ll have a happier life.

- Yandere Grandparent who, at their last moments, smiles at you while holding your hand and muttering a final “I love you, sweetie…” before peacefully dying.

- Yandere Grandparent whose soul will continue to protect you even in the afterlife, for even death itself will never be able to break the bond of love they always had for their adorable niece.