#[and pancakes are a comfort food for him]

[aithrige]

for the immortals… | Accepting @vibraea asked: dining: are there any particular meals / foods my muse misses, that are no longer made? ( for luci. Does he even need to eat? )

Given we have seen Ozzie eat, I would assume that Lucifer is the same and does it. Does he need to? Probably not. Is it a mundane task that brings him pleasure anyway? I would say so. Until official information, if it is ever mentioned, comes out on it then I would just assume he's like a vampire who can consume food other than blood. He enjoys doing it because he likes the taste not because he needs it to survive.

That being said, I don't think there is any particular food he misses. He is the king of hell, if he wanted something then it's bound to be easy enough for him to get. Even if it's only in the human world. His favorite food, surprising no one, is anything that involves apples.

[gildedoak]

After Lucifer’s multiple requests for pancakes, Alastor finally made chicken and waffles as an attempt at a truce.

SOUTHERN COMFORT FOOD SERIES Sweet Tea Peach Cobbler Hushpuppies Crab/Crawfish Boil Gumbo (plus character notes!) Beignets (part 2) Shrimp and Grits Cornbread Biscuits and Gravy Pecan Pie/Sugar Pie Fried Catfish ??? - Season 1 Finale

Image description below the cut!

[Image description: Lucifer flings himself into Alastor with a giddy hug, nearly knocking him over. Alastor is starting to transform, as he holds a slotted spoon in one hand and a plate of hot chicken and waffles in the other.

Alastor: If you make me drop this, I WILL THROW YOU INTO THE DEEP FRYER!!

End image description]

[st4rbwrry]

   𝐾𝐼𝑆𝑆 𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝐼’𝑀 𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸.

꒰ armin takes his pretty girlfriend on a picnic in an enchanted forest.꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 1.4k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, established relationship, sub / dom, profanity, pet names, unprotected penetrative sex, we’re in luvvv, outside indecency, love bites, praise, kinda shy reader, smoking, kreampie, minors aren’t welcomed ! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . this been in the drafts since 2022 y’all. a lil sum.

a pastel baby blue dress clings tight to your smooth skin, looking like the prettiest cottage core girl. frills on the shoulders and bust sitting low to accentuate your perky chest. love handles and tummy pudge swallowed by the soft material. armin couldn't keep his eyes, or hands, to himself. rubbing all up on you throughout your entire picnic date. fresh air blows through the trees and the bright views of sunlight beam across the blue lake where pure white doves swam in silence. armin had found this mythical location by driving around one day. it's quiet and reserved, deep into an enchanted forest.

the two of you sat on a blanket sprawled out on the grass, enjoying the food armin neatly packed. lots of fruits because you loved them. strawberries, raspberries, pomegranates, green grapes, apricots, and peaches . . . you name it. overdoing it just a bit, but he knows it’ll be eaten by this week. this was breakfast, the time now around eleven in the morning, so while you got ready he prepped the food. heart shaped pancakes, waffles, turkey bacon, pork sausage, scrambled cheese eggs and of course never forgetting your orange juice.

to make it cuter he brought a glass vase and filled it with water and multicolor roses he bought from the flower shop. you ate so much food your stomach bloated, unable to eat anymore. armin lays on his back with you to stare up at the sky and watch the trees blow, the weather perfect for the occasion. the sun hitting your skin serenely. you rest your head on armin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he massages your back in gentle circles, nearly falling asleep because you’re so at peace.

“i’m so glad we did this,” a yawn escapes as you smile sweetly at him, rubbing his stomach over his white tee.

armin presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering it before mumbling, “me too.” soon, digging into his jean pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. tapping the plastic box to release a stick. your body moves with the forearm he brings together to light his cig, flicking the lighter twice and satiating his need.

“i needed a break from life. so, thank you, love.” the softness in your voice makes the man's heart beat twice as fast. he smiles at you after turning his head the opposite way to blow out smoke, knowing you hated it in your face. being at close proximity right now was less irritating since you're elated at the moment. you could care less because he's comfortable, and it makes you feel the same. you could never get him to quit no matter how hard you tried. never argued with him about it. minor debates but he gave valid points so you laid off it.

“i figured it'd be nice to escape for the day. it's upsetting we have to return to reality tomorrow. but when i'm with you, it always feels . . . free.”

armin brushes a curved knuckle over your cheekbone, your eyes glued to his own.

“i feel the same way.”

“i say i love you all the time. but do you really understand it? how deep it is?”

you curl your lips inward, pondering on his question. more like a statement.

“i know you love me. you show it more ways than one. i think that's meaningful overall.”

fluffy blond hair with gold hues covers his angelic baby blue eyes, reaching up to tuck some of the wavy ringlets behind his ear.

“tell me you love me, then gimme a kiss.”

your face grows hot from his demand, growing nervous. you sit up briefly to grab a peach to bite into and distract yourself, more like hide your face because you were smiling so hard. this happens to be the second time since he's first told you he loved you. it makes you shy even still, the rush of heat coming to your cheeks from the intense glare he gives you, waiting for you to say it. you don't know why it felt so hard to utter. it's clear you love him, but maybe it was the large commitment of the word . . . the vulnerability, the devotion, the forever tie that scared you.

"tell me you love me, or i'll make you say it, ꒰♡꒱ ."

and make you he does.

his breath is warm on your neck, tongue following to lick a bold stripe over your skin with his fingers indented into the flesh of your cheeks and jaw. your face is upturned, head resting on his shoulder, back to his chest as you rely on his body for your balance. your thighs are spread wide, holding yourself open with your unoccupied hand, gripping under the bend of your knees, whimpering in the breezy air as his hips interact with the round of your ass, fucking you from the side fervidly. his moans are light, dancing in your ear while you claw into the picnic blanket beneath you two, clutching the grass and dirt in the wake. tuning into the lewd interaction of his heavy dick pounding into you, tits bouncing out of the enclosure of your dress.

“i can’t hear you, ꒰♡꒱,” armin grits his teeth, his lips on your jaw now, kissing away and grunting as he raises his hips to fuck you deeper, thrusts steady but rough. you’re feeling dizzy, whining from the baritone of his voice. “i didn’t make myself clear enough?”

“n-no. . . ar—min. mmph,” while denying, there’s a crack in your voice as you try your best to speak, moans rumbling in your throat, your tummy jiggling from his harsh pace.

“then tell me, tell me,” armin’s voice is a whispered plead, his jeans to his knees and his shirt pulled up to his midsection, skin scorching against your own.

you’re soft, and small. his big hand with veins protruding goes from your face to your chest, tweaking your nipples that spilled out of it’s cups alluringly, before spanking them with the pads of his fingers. tweak, spank, tweak, spank. it’s a notion that has you drooling, and sobbing pathetically. he’s trying to upkeep his composure, trying not to bottom out and lose his sanity. you’re too cute.

“i love youuu,” you finally cry out, ragged moans falling out in shorts gasps, tears coaxing and the pressure in your tummy building.

“fuck, there you go, sweetie,” his excitement shows through the way his dick slips out of you, both of you gasping from the loss until he slaps your clit with his dick, your juices sputtering out of you with each wet pat pat pat. armin draws his hips back slightly before sliding back inside easily, digging his fingers into the back of your thigh you held up and rolled his waist to fuck you harder.

each pound is harder than the previous, his jaw widening as he chokes on his moans and catches your throat with his mouth, tongue lolling out occasionally and his teeth following suit. your head is tossed back entirely, his arm going around your shoulder to cradle you, falling back on the ground. your thighs press tightly together, and you hold onto his arm while his middle and ring fingers thrum intricately over your puffy clit to watch her squirt.

armin hisses with skaken moan. “say it again, ꒰♡꒱.”

“i love you, armin.”

“again,” he’s biting at your neck again, your mouth agape from the combination of that and the head of his dick kissing your sweet spot.

“b-baby, g-god. i love you.”

“ooh, shit,” armin then pushes your left thigh flat to the ground, your body twisted as he goes to level himself above you in push up form, dropping his dick into you with steady, hard pounds. his voice grows weak, moans whiny as he cums deep inside of you, and you follow not long after, squeaking and clutching onto his wrist planted by your head. the softness of your ass bouncing back onto his hips is entrancing. his ass flexing when he grinds into your pussy.

“oh my god,” those pretty strands of blond sway in front of his face, giggling and lowering his body to rest his chest on your side. repeatedly leaving kisses to your flushed cheeks, neck, even your forehead. unable to move at all.

“i really love you, i swear,” the pads of your fingers brush over his pink lips, overly sensitive at the moment so you definitely felt like crying. a high pitched hiccup interrupts the moment, and that only makes armin roll his lips inward before bursting out a laugh.

“you’re so cute,” he gives you an eskimo kiss before smooching your lips. “i know you do.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life. 🫧🍓

[satorkive]

ROOMMATE 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ SATORU

roommate!satoru who constantly stares at you when you first met. you are probably the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

roommate!satoru who takes advantage of his height and makes everything in your apartment higher than what’s supposed to be. he wants you to beg for him with your doe eyes and pouty lips.

roommate!satoru who becomes clingy after living with each other for a long time. he has to be cuddling you or he will sulk for the rest of the day.

roommate!satoru who cooks for you. you want pancakes and hot chocolate? just sit down and wait for him. you have your frustrating monthly period? don’t worry, he got your comfort food ready. he’s attentive like that.

roommate!satoru who gets jealous when you bring boy friends in your room. he has to be in the same room as both of you because he’s just being protective!

roommate!satoru who is obliviously catching feelings for you. he doesn’t know what to do, but he doesn’t want to do anything. so it is what it is, he belongs to you now.

[kissitbttr]

mafia!toji and his sweet sweet baby girl who he rescued from that dingy stripper club because he just can’t stand seeing her pretty face and body being exposed to sleazy old men. because she belongs to him. ever since he he laid his eyes on her, he’s locked in. no going back.

he spoils her. everyday. she wants custom swarovski crystals dress? he’s already making calls with the designer as they speak. she wants blueberry pancakes for breakfast? he ordered his private chef to make a luxurious brekkie in bed with five different dishes. she wants to taste the best italian food in town? he’ll do her one better. booked two tickets to rome, letting his right hand man to take over the job while he’s going vacation with his baby.

she asks for one, he gives her ten,

“oh come on, ji-ji! you have the other three looking stoic already! just smile one for meeee”

the two of them went out for an anniversary dinner. toji had booked reservations at one of the most expensive fine dining restaurant in the city. despite telling him to keep the money for something much more important, he feels like there’s no need to. he’s loaded with it.

she feeds him the delicious food, wipe stains off the corner of his lips with her tongue a napkin. while he sits back against the chair, hand around the whiskey glass as the other roams freely against her bare thigh.

seeing her happy, makes him happy. there is nothing in the world he wouldn’t give her.

…except smiling

what he thought that it would be a simple dinner and a long night of him fucking her, she had another idea,

he hears her plead, all while she sits cross legged on top of his thigh.lips forming into a pout as her manicured fingers cradling his handsome face,

“baby” toji grumbles, eyes lulling to the back. “i don’t smile”

“you smile whenever i play with your hair”

“that’s different!” he argues, looking at her as his cheeks turn crimson pink. “i only do that in the comfort of my own home. with you.”

she rolls her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. “you’re so dramatic. it’s just a photobooth! i’ll tuck it nicely in my drawer so no one will have to see. pleaseeee?”

she’s doing that thing with her eyes. puppy dog look. bottom lip jutting forward. one look that got him hooked in the first place.

damn him for folding so easily,

he groans yet faces the camera once again, pulling her close by the hips. “fine” his reply makes her squeal, giving a big fat kiss on the cheek, leaving a bright red stain on the skin. “just this once, ma”

[deadghosy]

AND NOW….WHAT WE ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR…. PENGUIN! READER IN COURT.

HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER pt.4

Prompt: after lute’s acting out and hell’s celebration. A court was ordered for the custody for you.

“We are here in court today to discuss the home and place that reader should be in” says sera as she eyes Lucifer and his daughter that’s beside him.

Charlie smiles at the thought of winning this time as she smiles at her father who seemed to be a nervous wreck. He is hair was messy but almost kept as he kept fidgeting with his hands.

“Okay let’s start,” she says as she pulls up some cards. “Please no definitions this time.” Sera says strictly. Charlie gulps as she pulls out another bunch of cards. “Okayyy..no defining..but I have kept record on how comfortable they are with the hotel and the residents” she says with a small smile as Lucifer glances at his daughter hoping she could change the seraphim’s mind.

“Do you have any proof of this suppose claim?” Sera says with a raised brow. “Why yes! I do and my dad also has some. Right dad?” Charlie says looking at Lucifer who jumped at the sudden spot light. “Uh- yeah, yeah. I have some proof and rebuttals.” Lucifer says sitting up correctly.

Sera and Emily look at each other as a ball rises into the room. The angels seem to look each other and watch the ball carefully. Charlie smiles ready to show them how you belong in hell with them, for family of course.

“Oh oh oh, I would love to watch this shit show.” Adam says pulling up popcorn out of nowhere as the ball in the court starts to play. Lute grabs two movie glasses to wear with him and herself.

*flashback*

You were sleeping peacefully in Lucifer’s bed as he made you another duck toy as you woke up to smell pancakes beside you. You grabbed the pancake and ate them with a cute smile and squeak/quack. Angel busted in the ring leader’s door to grab you up and take you shopping as you got dressed.

Charlie and vaggie were talking downstairs as Lucifer was after Angel trying to pack up reader’s small little bag just incase there is trouble, like a small phone, small juice box, a rubber duck that turns into a monster to protect the penguin. And while type of stuff. Of course Angel rolled his eyes and took it for you as you two exit the hotel with vaggie and Charlie saying bad. You looked visibly happy as Lucifer gave one more goodbye kiss to your forehead.

*end of flashback*

The court chatters seeing such wholesome moments like that in hell. Adam rolls his eyes as lute basically breaks a mug beside her in anger seeing the angels nod and smile.

“How do we not know that you forced them to basically like that shit show of your hotel? You bride them with something?” Adam says rolling his eyes “Probably threaten them like the bastards you are.” Lute says as she glares longer at the two Morningstars.

The angels whisper gossiping about this. Charlie looks nervous as Lucifer looked as if he got sent to a death sentence. But Charlie then stood up with a nice compute looking around. “Don’t you ever think about what they want?! They’re our friend, heck even our family at most. PLEASEE…we just want them to be here with people they feel comfortable and loved around.”

“BLAH BLAH BLAH!” Someone says, ruining the soft moment as the court looks at Adam and lute who are scowling at the demon princess. “Why keep spitting these bullshit out your mouth and just admit that heaven is their rightful place? I mean, HAHA- they love me and plus they love the food here even better.” Adam says with a snarky smirk and lute smiling evilly.

Charlie’s demon form was slightly slipping from anger at adam’s words before lucifer had put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Adam, that is no way to talk to my daughter” Lucifer says with a scowl at Adam. Adam just smirks as lute was beside the first man throwing her middle up at him. “Ah please, you’re gods most hated thing to ever exist. Why let an ANGEL, who is supposed to be here, go live with you?”

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, “it was a rhetorical question.” Lute says with blunt venom. Charlie closed her mouth embarrassed. The court whispered and gossiped with a few nods as they did agree you were one of them that accidentally got sent to hell instead of heaven itself. 

Sera felt a heated stare from the devil himself, he kept his deranged look from the stress of this. The last time he had to be in court was when he got sent to his own kingdom.

“DONT you care Sera! They are just a person who can’t control who loves them! They love us…and maybe..you guys as well.” Charlie says as she hesitated on saying how you loved heaven as well. She stared around sera as well as sera closed her eyes not wanting to hear it. Emily glanced at the older seraphim uncomfortably.

Her first sentence made it feel like Deja vu in front of the whole court as Adam exclaimed, “HOLD ON HOW BITCH! You don’t get to sing in court ever! Plus.” He says smirking. “Of course they love us, we’re fucking heaven for crying out loud.” Sera sighs, “Adam, please no interrupting in court.” Adam scoffs sitting back down with lute who glares at Lucifer with full of hate. “Fuckin' bitch.” Adam grumbles under his breath.

Charlie growls under her breath to Adam as she pointed to Adam, “well, what do you have for claiming they even love heaven at all! What and where is your proof.” Adam smirks as lute flies, getting a presentation. “I’m glad you asked bitch, LUTE HIT IT!” “GREAT PLEASURE SIR!” Lute yells back smiling as she starts up the slideshow.

*flashback*

You were cuddled by Adam as he was hand feeding you some of your favorite chips flavor. You made a nice purr sound as you snuggled against Adam, adam’s tough facade faded as his eyes soften. “You like me right? You won’t leave me?” You nodded to Adam as you nuzzled your face in his pudgy body. Adam smiled and looked forward at the tv.

The next day was you and lute having a flying race. With your cute chubby penguin body, you couldn’t fly well. But lute just smiled and picked you up to her chest and starts to fly around heaven. You smiled as you quacked out how beautiful and exciting this felt to fly with someone you deem who you liked. You clearly liked the fresh and heaven air as lute put you to the ground to go get ice cream with you.

*end of flashback*

Adam smiles with a laugh as lute and fist bump at the presentation they made of you basically feeling cozy as heaven here. The angels awe and coo at adam’s part of the flashback as some clapped at the nice friendly encounter you had with lute in the second part.

The court whispers again as Emily and sera look at each other. Emily grabs onto sera’s hand as sera glances at Emily and her hand. And finally at the Morningstars who have a pleading smile as you are beside them playing with a train you. Sera lets out a deep breath and opened her mouth for the whole court to hear.

“The court has spoken. The rightful place the reader belongs in, is……”

CLIFF HANGERRRR💗

taglist: @caffieneaddictt18 @galaxywing-has-adhd @aria-tempest @chefysawesomeideas @zamadness @libraryraccoon @ilovelyneysm07 @speckle-meow-meow @timeageusveryquickly @skymac712 @loyx2 @nicoblob @badatpunz @listenerchan

[wolvietxt]

★ cozy mornings with logan

you woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside, sunlight gently streaming through the curtains. stretching out, you turned over, half-expecting logan to still be asleep, but the other side of the bed was empty. that wasn’t unusual. he was always up early, starting his day before the sun even fully rose.

what was unusual was the smell coming from the kitchen. a mix of coffee, something sweet, and something cooking. sitting up, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and smiled softly. logan wasn’t much of a breakfast person—usually, it was coffee and maybe a quick snack before he headed out—but the smell of whatever was in the kitchen was unmistakably homemade. curious, you slipped out of bed and padded quietly down the hall.

when you reached the kitchen, you found him there, standing by the stove with his back to you. the sight made your heart warm a little. he was wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, but his hair was still a bit mussed, like he hadn’t even bothered to fix it after getting up. his movements were careful as he flipped something in the pan, and you couldn’t help but smile at how focused he looked.

“morning,” you called softly, leaning against the doorway.

logan turned, eyebrows raising slightly. “you’re up.” his voice was low, that familiar gravelly tone still soft from the early hour. “i was gonna bring this to you.”

“bring it to me?” you teased, stepping closer. “since when do you make breakfast?”

he huffed, turning back to the stove. “since now, apparently.” there was a small stack of pancakes already sitting on the counter, along with a pot of coffee and some fresh fruit.

“smells amazing,” you said, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. he didn’t stop what he was doing, but you felt him lean back into you a little. “what’s the occasion?”

“no occasion,” he muttered, flipping the last pancake before turning off the stove. “just… figured i’d do something nice.”

the simplicity of his answer made you smile even more. it wasn’t like logan to go out of his way for things like this. he showed affection in different ways, quieter ways—like checking to make sure you were safe or silently offering you his jacket when you were cold. but cooking breakfast? that was new.

“you’re sweet, you know that?” you said softly, your cheek pressing against his back as you hugged him a little tighter.

he scoffed. “yeah, well… don’t get used to it.”

but you knew he didn’t mean it. you could feel the warmth radiating from him, could tell by the way his muscles relaxed under your touch that he liked this, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“come on,” he said, brushing your arms off him gently as he moved to plate the pancakes. “sit down. i made coffee too.”

you laughed quietly, taking a seat at the small kitchen table as he brought everything over. the pancakes were stacked high, golden brown and fluffy, and the coffee was already poured in your favorite mug. “you really went all out,” you said, still a little surprised by the effort he’d put in.

“figured you’d like it,” he shrugged, sitting down across from you with his own plate. “you deserve a good breakfast.”

the sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat. you reached across the table, your hand covering his for a moment, and he gave it a small squeeze before pulling away, already cutting into his food.

the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the kind of quiet that only comes from being completely at ease with each other. every now and then, logan would glance up at you, making sure you were enjoying what he’d made, but he didn’t need to ask. you were more than happy.

“these are incredible,” you said around a mouthful of pancake. “who knew you could cook?”

he smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. “don’t expect this every morning.”

“oh, i know. this is a rare treat.” you grinned, kicking his foot lightly under the table. “but i appreciate it.”

he didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod, his smirk softening into something almost like a smile. after a few minutes, he finished eating and leaned back in his chair, watching you polish off the last bite.

“you always do this,” he said suddenly.

you raised an eyebrow. “do what?”

“eat like you haven’t had a decent meal in days.” there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but also something else—something soft and affectionate.

you laughed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “well, it was really good. what can i say?”

he huffed again, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he stood and grabbed both your plates, setting them in the sink. “you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, shaking his head. “c’mon. let’s go sit outside for a bit.”

you followed him out to the porch, where the early morning sun was just starting to warm the air. you sat beside him, leaning into his shoulder, and he let out a quiet sigh, wrapping an arm around you.

“don’t get used to this either,” he grumbled softly, but you could feel how content he was, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held you close.

“don’t worry,” you teased, snuggling into him. “i’ll take what i can get.”

and there you stayed, wrapped up in each other as the morning unfolded quietly around you.

general taglist : @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @k1t-k4ts, @icurushasfallen, @eddxemxnson, @nickiinator

@chamomile-tea420, @rooroen, @spitfy, @cannon-writes, @platinumblondeedition

@cloudcandyala, @v3lv3tf0x, @california-boys-and-sun, @harleyyquinnsgf, @lemoanaid

@notacleangirl, @jabberwokee, @aetherthetrashpanda, @schrodingersjigsaw, @sylaswrites

@t0mmy-th3-gh0st, @correnz, @fvhs-things, @kallmeweirdhprroe, @dugiioh

@thugbiscuits, @rosiahills22, @cassehtwah, @whxtewolf, @mystcrium,

@bluevclvet, @angellreads, @babey-fruit-bat

[auroralwriting]

coffee

spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer always feels better when you make him coffee to cheer him up. auroral writing's fallidays masterlist

word count: 1k

warnings: season 2 spencer, no use of y/n, show-accurate spencer aka he’s a little, sweet nerd, comfort but no angst

Sometimes, having your boyfriend at home was worse than missing him while he was on a case. Spencer would be exhausted from time to time, varying on the case they worked on. It wasn’t easy to see your love so beat down so often. He promised it was just jet lag, but deep down, you knew some of the cases bothered him, too.

Late last night, Spencer arrived back home. Whenever he was gone, you’d stay at his apartment to water his plants and make sure the place was top notch by the time he came home. He had slipped into bed with you while you slept, not wanting to disturb your peace.

When you woke up, your heart fluttered seeing your genius lying next to you. The dark circles around his eyes were more prominent than they usually were. He didn’t even change out of his clothes.

It was clear that his thoughts were heavy, even deep in sleep. You wondered how bad this case was. What always cheered Spencer up was a nice, warm cup of coffee in the morning. So, you decided that's what you'd do; make him a nice, warm cup to make him feel better.

You got up slowly, making sure to take soft steps in order to not wake Spencer up. You opened his dresser drawers and laid him out a tee shirt and some plaid pajama pants so he could get comfortable when he woke up.

Once that was done, you went into his kitchen and turned on his record player, some soft classical music filling the empty room. The tunes help occupy the space as you worked on breakfast.

The coffee pot beeped off when you heard soft creaks from Spencer’s bedroom.

You grabbed his mug, one catered to the way he made his coffee, and carefully walked into the bedroom once more. Spencer’s eyes softened when he looked at you. He rubbed his eyes, giving his iconic soft, goofy smile.

“G’morning, love.” Spencer muttered, softly stretching as he sat up.

Cheeks tinted with red, you sat on the side of the bed with the mug in hand. “Morning, Spence. I made you some coffee, fresh out of the pot.”

Spencer took a sip, a low hum coming from his throat. “Perfect,” he mused.

“Long case?” You asked, brushing a piece of his hair back from his forehead.

“Very much so,” Spencer nodded. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. “Statistically, ninth percent of victims gone within the first day or two are found safely. Ours had been gone a full week.”

Your heart lurched in your chest, you knew what he meant. “You all tried your best, honey.” You tried to comfort. “Did you catch him?”

“Yeah,” Spencer nodded, a sigh of relief following his next sip of coffee. “This is really good.”

“I made it just the same,” you chuckled.

Spencer gave a small shrug with a hint of a smile on hips lips. “It tasted better when I know it’s to make me feel better.”

“If it helps, I also made blueberry pancakes.” Spencer’s smile grew at your words. “Now, get comfy and come have breakfast with me. I’m starving.”

After a few minutes, Spencer walked out of the room. “You put on Beethoven,” he smiled. You knew that was his favorite composer. Spencer sat down, eagerly taking a bite of the food you prepared for him. “Baby, it’s so good,”

You smiled at his compliment, “I’m glad, Spence.”

“Let me make dinner tonight as a thank you,” Spencer said, swallowing the food in his mouth. “Please?”

No matter how many times you did nice things for him, Spencer always wanted to repay you. That’s one of the many reasons you loved him so much. He was always fair, kind, and truly the most loving man you’d ever met in your life. Your relationship was built off of love, trust, and balance. It was perfection.

“How could I ever say no to that face?” You giggled at the dopey smile he wore.

"How about more breakfast for dinner," Spencer offered, taking a sip from his mug. "I can make us cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate, and maybe today we can go out and get an apple pie, too."

Your face lit up at the thought, "You really do love me, don't you?"

Spencer laughed, "With every bone in my body."

"That coffee really helped your mood, huh?" You put your head on your hand as you stared lovingly at your boyfriend. What a perfect man he was.

"It did," Spencer admitted, "but the fact that you made it and did all of this for me is what really helped."

Once you were both finished eating, you and Spencer snuggled on the couch, a large blanket laying over top of both of your laps. You were both cuddled in the middle, laughing at the tv as you watched Halloweentown. It was the perfect fall day outside, and you both were on your second mugs of coffee.

"Don't we still need to go to the store?" Spencer asked as he played with a strand of your hair.

You softly hummed in reply, "It's noon, we still have time."

"Well, there's still several more Halloweentown movies to watch," Spencer replied with a smile. "At this rate, we'll never go to the store."

"A late midnight snack, then." You decided. "This is too nice to just give up."

Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I agree. I could go for a big midnight snack."

Even when you went to go to the store, more around seven, you stopped off at the local coffee place to grab a cup from them. They were just about to close, but it was worth it to see the look on Spencer's face.

The last cup of coffee was served at just a little past midnight as the two of you sat on the couch, criss crossed, eating cinnamon rolls and apple pie. Your mugs were still smoking from the heat of the coffee.

Spencer gently grabbed your chin, giving you a warm kiss. You tasted the icing on his lips from the cinnamon rolls.

"Thank you," Spencer said softly. "For today and the coffee."

"I'd do anything for you, Spencer." You replied with a small smile settling on your lips.

[rafecameronssl4t]

How would Sarah and Wheezie react to baby Leo

Cameron’s meet Leo || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: before I wrote this. I realised that Sarah is older than reader, even though it's just a year older 🤯

Warnings: allusion to ppd, slight angst

Word count: 618

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You were no stranger to the scrutiny that came with your public life, but today felt different. Strolling through the bustling café with Leo in his pram, you felt a new layer of attention. The quiet coos and whispers that followed you as you approached your table were unmistakable. “Mrs. Cameron, this way, please,” the waitress said with a warm smile, leading you to where Wheezie and Sarah were waiting.

As you neared the table, Wheezie's eyes widened, her excitement palpable. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on Leo, who blinked up at her with wide, curious eyes. Sarah, catching Wheezie’s reaction, turned with a grin. “Wheezie, calm down. Let her sit,” Sarah said, her tone both amused and gently reprimanding. She rose to greet you, enveloping you in a hug and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Congratulations,” she beamed, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “Thank you, Sarah,” you replied, smiling as you removed your sunglasses and rested them on top of your head. You rocked Leo's pram with soft pushes, glancing at his tiny face that was a spiting image of Rafe. As you settled into your seat, you noticed a pair of young women walking by, their heads turned as they whispered to each other.

Their stares were unmistakable, their curiosity veiled but obvious. Sarah’s gaze followed yours, her concern evident. “We could move to a more private area if you’d prefer,” she suggested, her voice laced with empathy. You offered a polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No, it’s fine, really,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease stirring within. You cleared your throat, trying to push aside the discomfort.

You focused on Leo, seeking solace in the serene, innocent presence of your son as the chatter around you continued. "So, how's being a mother treating you?" Sarah innocently says with a smile as her and Wheezie focus on you. You take a moment to answer, your eyes flickering to Leo. "Uh- It's been okay. I've been getting help, especially since you know, Rafe has been travelling lately."

You honestly answer as Sarah nods. "When does he get back, do you know?" "This Friday. He was supposed to get back today actually from London, but a last minute meeting stopped him." You answer as Sarah hums in understanding. "You know you can always call us if you need help right?" Sarah says and you smile, grateful for her offer. Breakfast arrived and you all chatted away until Wheezie speaks up.

“Isn’t it kinda crazy that you’re older than Y/n—” Wheezie glanced at Sarah, who was about to interject, “—only by a year—” Sarah began to protest, but Wheezie pressed on, “—and Y/n already has a baby?” You felt a slight jolt at Wheezie’s observation, taking a sip of your water to mask your reaction. Her question, though innocent, stung more than you expected. You knew there was no malice behind it, but it highlighted a disparity that you weren’t entirely comfortable with.

“Crazy, right?” you said with a chuckle, trying to keep your voice light. Sarah’s eyes softened with sympathy, her gaze lingering on you as she sensed the subtle shift in your mood. You glanced down at the plate of pancakes before you, barely touched and now cold. The sight of the untouched food seemed to amplify the unease simmering beneath the surface.

You forced a smile, determined to stay engaged with the conversation and push aside the disquiet Wheezie’s innocent remark had stirred within you. The effort to remain present felt like a balancing act, your focus shifting between the cheerful chatter around you and the uncomfortable thoughts you tried to suppress.

[ravcnism]

I know we all love the idea of Kenji being absolutely shit at cooking, ( he's a rich boy with no time and a fancy AI assistant who can do all the cooking for him, ) but I keep thinking back to the opening scene. Kenji's dad asks him what he thinks about their curry and he, despite being 6 years old, responds with: "ten more minutes." And he's right. It does indeed, need ten more minutes. He's also very clearly a foodie, being particular with his noodles, knowing specific steak names, remembering the tonkatsu from his childhood. So, I raise you this: He is good at cooking, and he's an absolute natural at it. Complicated recipes? No problem. Knife skills? He doesn't even have to look. Omu Rice? Hell yeah, he gets it perfect every time. Cooking was his and mom's favorite pass time. No matter how old he got, he was always there, helping her in the kitchen. ( He definitely has a cookbook that he inherited from his grandma or something. )

Bad day? Miso soup. Lost a game? That's fine. He'd make oyakudon with some ramune. Dad cancelled out on graduation again? He'd feel better after a bowl of zosui. Nothing comforted him better than food. And mom. She made everything taste like magic.

But now he's older, and busier, and of course mom isn't there anymore. So he loses his spark. Cooking isn't as fun, his meals don't taste as good. It becomes a chore - he's always too tired. Always missing her. So now it's junk food, and takeout, and whatever lifeless healthy meal Mina forces him to eat.

But maybe, one day, Emi catches a whiff of the breakfast he's making. It's nothing complicated. Pancakes, eggs, bacon. He decides to give her a plate, and to say that she loves it is an absolute understatement. Emi chirps like it's the best thing she's ever eaten. So he makes some more. And he makes it again. And eventually, he digs out a dusty cookbook from under his bed and wonders what she might like to try next.

A Tuna Tataki sounds right up her alley.

[cordeliawhohung]

In Limbo [Chapter 15]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

strings attached

cw: hurt, a little bit of comfort, lots of dialogue

wc: 3.7k

Breakfast is ready.

Simon’s message stares at you through your phone screen, and you can do nothing but stare back. Blank eyes, slow blinks. You could smell its arrival before it even buzzed. Sausage links, almost burnt toast, pancakes — or, maybe that’s waffles you smell? He’s been cooking for a while. Slaving over the stove with quiet strings of curses as various utensils clatter onto the floor. It’s similar to the events of last night, when you’re pretty sure you heard him burn himself on the stovetop. The kitchen sink didn’t run for too long before he texted you dinner was ready, but despite all his effort, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat. 

The screen turns black and you drop your phone onto the mattress. Pristine white paint coats the ceiling above you as you stare, eyes bleary with less than restful sleep. You attempt to recall the events of yesterday in a way that doesn’t upset your stomach too mercilessly, but it’s an impossible task. Uncovered secrets, acrimonious betrayal; Simon’s eyes. While he was assisting you in setting up his room for you to rest in, every time he looked at you all you saw was pain. As if, for once, he was the one hiding the wounds. Every time he looked at you, it was like rubbing salt in the gash. 

He hasn’t slept. You’re certain of it. All night long you could hear the droning of the television from the other side of the door where he rested in the living room. Every half hour he would rise and march off through the front door. When he returned, the strong scent of tobacco would waft into the room through some unseen cracks. Seeping through the space beneath the door as if it was a love note and not ash. After a handful of times, he stopped leaving. Instead, he stayed bound to the living room where you could hear the tiniest metal tinkering and quiet muttering. Fingers too twitchy to stay still. 

Guilt absumes you. Patiently and gradually. You think of Simon having to shove himself on some couch in his own home — how you had once fought against the idea only a few days ago — and your self hatred grows. It swells in your chest, expanding to the point where you’ll burst. It forces you to bury your face into the pillows beneath your head, but hiding from a man in his own bed only unravels you further. 

Every scrap of cloth that makes up this bed smells like him. Like Simon. Earthy and warm — if you would have known the very scent that comforted you in Manchester would only rip you apart once you returned to London, you don’t think you would have ever allowed yourself to become so attached. But it’s too late. You are swathed in it. It permeates the clothes you wear and the hair on your head, and you can’t escape it. You’ve never been good at running from the things you fear, let alone the things you love. 

Heavy footsteps drown out your sniffling as they approach the door. It’s sudden. Sneaky. Heart stopping, you hold your breath as you await something. You think Simon will burst through the door. Shake some sense into you. Spit out that you’ve had enough time to think through your feelings. Instead, there’s nothing but the gentle knock of china against the wood floor just beyond the door, followed by fading thumps. 

Your phone buzzes again. 

Food is at the door for when you’re ready, sweetheart.

Simon sets his phone on the coffee table and then stares at his food. He tells himself it’s nothing special, but it is. More effort was put into this meal than ones he normally makes for himself, and his heart aches as he stares at it. He wants to hear your fork scrape against the plate and your teeth grind the food. He wants to hear every time you swallow a sip of water; wants to feel your weight next to him. Instead, all he gets is the quiet sound of running water spewing through the showerhead in the master bathroom. 

Once it’s evident that you — once again — will not be joining him for the meal, he eats. Each bite is hesitant. Simon isn’t exactly a cook, but he knows he’s not terrible and nothing tastes how it’s supposed to. It’s not as vibrant or as welcoming. Some pale imitation of what food is supposed to be. Each bite slithers down his throat as he contemplates his options; the things he needs to do to keep you safe. His mind is frozen on the images of you from last night. Curling away from his touch with wide eyes — that betrayal scrawled over your face. 

Despite the churning in his stomach, Simon finishes every bite of breakfast. Heavy weights pull at his shoulders as he cleans up the mess he made in the kitchen. His ears stay perked for the sound of creaking wood. He yearns for it. The sound of you exiting the bedroom. The quiet rumble of your voice as you say his name. He gets nothing but silence, and that terrible void persists even as he goes to check the plate of food he left for you. Everything is just as he left it. Not a single crumb out of place. It goes into the trash. When you eat, he’ll make you something fresh; he wouldn’t make you scarf down something cold. 

Things are still quiet by the time lunch rolls around. Simon’s thumbs tap away at his phone as he texts you another pathetic message over another ready meal. When he hits send, he scrolls back through his previous messages. How he informed you that breakfast was ready this morning and dinner the night before. How you ignored both of them. How it’s been nearly twenty four hours since you last ate. He’s been counting the hours. The minutes. The seconds. 

When ten minutes pass and you’re still locked away in the confines of his bedroom, Simon rises to his feet. Plate in hand, he approaches the door with attentive ears. For a moment he stands and listens for any sign of life: a sniffle, a shuffle, anything. Some proof that you’re there.

There is nothing. 

“Sweetheart?” He knocks on the door with a single knuckle and it still feels too loud. Too harsh. Like the sound alone will shatter you. “Baby?” 

He waits with bated breath for anything from you. Eyes wandering to the sandwich in his hands, he sighs before knocking on the door once more. 

“Chip… you don’t have to talk to me, but I’m not gonna let you starve yourself. You gotta eat something.” 

Silence stretches so long that his hand nearly shoots to the knob, fearing the worst. That you’ve vanished. That you’re gone; or worse. Before his fingertips even graze against the metal, the door opens with a small gust of wind from the force. The faint scent of your body soap washes over him and for a moment, all the frayed nerves sizzling in his body settle. He holds out the plate for you to take, and you stare up at him and his bobbing throat for a moment before you relieve him of the object. 

“Let’s eat.” Your voice is hoarse. Rough like the chords in your throat are too tight, but he doesn’t mention it. Surprised that you don’t just take the plate and run back into hiding, he nods, stepping to the side to lead you into the living room. 

Neither of you speak while you sit together, though Simon tries. His weight shifts on the couch as he pushes a glass of water your way, muttering something about you being dehydrated. He’s not wrong. Your tongue feels like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth and you can feel the way your skin shrinks around your body, pulling everything taut to the point of snapping. So you sip. Enough to wet your tongue and get your throat to stop sticking to itself. Enough that Simon’s shoulders slouch, no longer plagued by tension. 

Each bite is agonizing. Bland and tasteless — though you know it’s not because of Simon. Your sandwich is well prepared with meats, cheeses, and the works. It’s difficult to enjoy them when a raging nervosity ravages your stomach. Angers the bile until it’s jumping up your throat. You’re only able to eat half of it before your body begins to protest. Contracting muscles, breath hitching in your throat; you feel as if you’re going to be sick. 

“I have work tonight,” you blurt out. Might as well let the words spew from your mouth before the vomit growling in your stomach does. “Here in a few hours, actually.” 

Simon swallows the last bite of his sandwich before dusting his hands clean. “You should call out. Would be better if you weren’t workin’ for now.” 

You scoff. The words that leave his mouth sound utterly insane. You attempt to recall the last time you called out of work willingly. A time that wasn’t Bruce fathering you and forcing you to go home for your own wellbeing. There are bills to pay — debts you owe — and the thought of skipping out on work makes your stomach sink. 

“I can’t just stop working,” you retort. You speak to him like he’s a stranger. As if he’s overstepping further than he should. “I don’t exactly have an exorbitant amount of cash in my savings. I’ve still got rent and-” 

“I’ll take care of that,” Simon interjects. “Anythin’ you need. Money, clothes, food. I’ll take care of it.” 

If the previous words Simon spoke were insane, then this is barbaric. Hands gripping your plate, you look at him with narrowed eyes. “I can’t let you do that.” 

“It’s safer this way,” he attempts to assure. 

“So I’m just supposed to stay here? Under lock and key and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist? That’s not realistic and you know it.” 

“Andrei had pictures of you.” 

Everything goes quiet. So much so you swear you can hear your heart rattling in your chest. It echoes up your spine, along your neck, and reverberates in your skull like a wailing drum in the distance. You think of what he means by that: pictures of you. Then your mind wanders. Someplace dark and macabre. It wanders far enough that — for a fleeting moment — you swear you smell mint. Once more your throat goes dry and your fingers itch for the glass of water in front of you, but you aren’t brave enough to reach for it. 

“What do you mean?” you choke out. 

“That night in the alley? Andrei met up with someone who works at the club,” Simon explains, voice careful and even. “Some poor kid just tryin’ to make his way through uni. Someone Andrei probably cornered tryin’ to go into his shift. I talked to ‘im wantin’ to figure out what he wanted with you. Kid said Andrei was askin’ questions ‘bout why you were at the club, things of that sort. Even had pictures of you so the kid would know who he was talkin’ about.” 

“Pictures?” you repeat. 

Simon nods. “Didn’t see ‘em myself, but the kid said the pictures were taken through a window of what looked like a restaurant. Means they probably follow you ‘round more often than you think. Don’t feel comfortable with you bein’ there if they’re lurking. Harder to protect you that way. Best if you stayed well away from the club, too. Bastard’s have eyes everywhere.” 

He sounds so… nonchalant. Like these words have been rehearsed and thought again and again until every detail is ironed and neat. Twitchy fingers rise to his chin as he scratches at the stubble growing there, eyes finally finding you. The alarum raging in your stomach rolls off of your body in visible swirls. He sees the way it churns in your eyes; the gravity of the situation crashing down upon you. Its weight crushes you, and you choke on your own spit in an attempt to wet your tongue. 

“Okay. Fine, so I stay here then,” you give in. Your attempt at sounding strong and sure of yourself fails the moment your breath shakes. “But I’ve still got my apartment to worry about. All those bills, paying Marco back…” 

“I’ll take care of it,” Simon reiterates. “All of it. Any damages left at your apartment, the debt Marco forced on you, all of it.” 

You scoff, but your bottom lip is trembling. “I know better than to get tangled up in shit like that. There’s not a single bit of coin in the world that doesn’t come without strings attached.”

“You wouldn’t owe me anything. I don’t work like that.” 

“Yeah, but Marco does. Look, I get it. I know Row asked you to look after me, and I’m sure John’s little mafia, or whatever, has more resources than I can fucking imagine but… I don’t think you understand. You keep saying that you’ll get me out of this mess or that we’ll work through it together but I know better than that. I don’t just get to go on living knowing the things that I do, Simon. There’s not a chance in hell that he’d let me go that easily.” 

“I got Tommy out of his mess with Marco, I’ll get you out of yours.” 

There’s a brief moment where Simon’s words refuse to properly string themselves together in your mind. Tommy. Mess. Out. Marco. Disconnected and disjointed. Raddled, you shake your head like you can’t understand a single word that left his mouth. 

“He went after your brother?” you ask in disbelief. 

For the first time since you met him, Simon looks away from you. Leaning back, weight settling into the couch, he stares at the television with empty eyes as if the images flashing before him are not the ones he’s truly witnessing. Your fingers interlace with one another, as if you don’t know what to do with your hands if you cannot hold or be held. 

“I used to box back home in Manchester. Illegally,” he begins. “Underground sorta shit where people would place bets. Every time I won, I got a cut of the pot which I’d give to my mum. Tommy was into drugs at the time. He would beg her for money and she’d give it to him because she loves him. She didn’t wanna see ‘im out on the street, but I didn’t wanna see her wastin’ away, so I did what I could. 

“Price approached me one night after a match. Said he liked my skills. Wanted to hire me, and I knew exactly what he was talkin’ about. Didn’t want any part of whatever the hell he was doin’ so I told ‘im to fuck off. Bastard gave me his card anyway. Dunno why I held onto it. Came in handy though ‘cause Tommy ended up getting into the shit with Marco’s boys. Was workin’ as a butcher at the time and he came stormin’ into the shop beggin’ for money like some goddamn vagabond. Turns out he was actively on the run from Marco’s men, and they followed him to the shop. Pulled a knife out, ready to gut him.”

Simon stares at his hands. Wide palms roughened from old work and new work. Still stained with viscera and blood like a noisome odor that he can’t wash away. 

“What… happened?” you question cautiously. Pulling your legs up onto the couch, you turn to fully face him. He’s never spoken to you like this before. As if he’s in the past. Telling you some story. Sharing the parts of him that haven’t seen the light of day in eons. 

“I fought. Hard as I could. Tommy might be older, but I’ve always been bigger. Too strong for my own good. It all happened so fast, things like that always do, but I ended up killing one of them. He was gonna pull a gun on us and I… I don’t regret it. I’d do whatever it took to save him. Cops came, determined everything was done in self defense, let us off the hook, but Tommy wasn’t safe. I knew he wasn’t. They’d just keep comin’ and comin’ so I called Price. Took his offer. Hardly started workin’ for him and he gave me the money Tommy owed like it was nothing. Seventy five thousand quid like it was fuckin’ pocket change.” 

Eyes widening, something flickers inside of you. A sputtering sanguinity that sparks and wavers, trying so hard to tear tinder from your bones and ignite into a blaze. It buzzes and vibrates until you can hardly sit still.

“And they let him go? Once everything was paid they just…?” You try to choke the question out, but the idea of freedom is so foreign to you that it refuses to dance on your tongue. 

Simon’s lips press together as he shakes his head. “Course not. They always want more. But I did it. Settled his debt, and got Makarov’s men to fuck off outta Manchester. Been over six years and they haven’t so much as looked his way.” 

Nodding, you swallow. “What… What more did they make you do? To fully forgive the debt?” 

A commercial blares over the television. Advertisements always seem twice as loud than the program they play between, and you nearly flinch at the upbeat music and overly joyous narrator. Simon doesn’t. Steady as a rock, he continues to stare at his hands. Stiff fingers clench and unclench, joints aching with abuse. 

“Nothin’ good,” he answers truthfully. “Doesn’t matter. I’d do it again. I’d do all of it again. No one messes with my family. No one messes with—” my girl “—you and gets away with it.” 

For a moment, you believe him. That you can get out of this mess. You think of how he fought Andrei and won. How those hands broke a man’s nose and then turned to gently lead you to safety. You think about how those hands held you in Manchester close to a warm chest, how those scarred lips pressed against the crown of your head, and you think — for the first time in a long time — that you might be okay. That you can finally exist without strings attached. 

“Thank you.” 

Those words finally pull Simon’s attention away from his hands. He looks at you tenderly as you curl into the couch; some feral stray finally settling into the warmth he brings. 

“I’ve got work tonight. I’ll talk to Price, assumin’ he’s back from his trip. See ‘bout getting gettin’ the money and we can take it from there,” he says with a curt nod. 

“What?” you breathe. “No. No, no you can’t tell John about this. Or Row. Anyone. Please, promise me you’ll keep this between us.” 

Brows furrowing together, Simon shifts on the couch. “They’re not gonna hold this against you, sweetheart.”

“I got Row’s dad killed,” you retort, voice fracturing. The words shatter in your throat. Bleed all over your tongue. The taste makes you sick. “She can’t… I couldn’t face her if she ever found out. If she ever put two and two together knowing about Marco’s involvement. If you tell them I’m in the shit with Makarov- fuck, she’s too smart. Simon, it’d fucking kill me. I couldn’t… I couldn’t ever face her with the truth.” 

“You said it yourself. You were just a kid,” he attempts to rationalize. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Your words are sharp. Honed enough to slice the molecules in the air. Surprised the very air itself hasn’t ignited, you stare at him with wide eyes as you try to suck in the breath to continue. “It doesn’t matter. All of this, it stays between us. Please. Tell me you’ll keep this secret.” 

All rationality leaves Simon the moment your voice begins to warble. Eyes glistening with fat tears lurking in the corners of your eyes, his fingers twitch. His thumbs crave the moisture. To wipe at them until they’re nothing but a memory. Then he remembers yesterday — how you flinched at his touch — and he keeps his hands to himself. 

“Okay. Just you and me, then,” he confirms. “It’ll take me some time to get the money then, but we’ll sort this out, yeah?” 

It feels like forever since he’s last seen a smile flicker along your lips. It’s puny. Hardly noticeable, but it’s there. 

“Thank you,” you choke out. 

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.” 

Simon rises after that. Towers to his feet where he bends to grab the dirty plates sitting before you on the coffee table. He makes no comment about your half finished sandwich, but he does motion toward the unfinished glass of water. 

“Should drink up. Last thing you need is to be dehydrated,” he fusses. 

His footsteps grow quiet as he leaves the living room and you are left alone with nothing but the company of the television still droning in front of you. Water gushes through the faucet in the sink, and you hear the gentle clinking of china as he washes up. The domesticity of it all isn’t lost on you, and for once it isn’t agonizing to experience. You can sit there on that couch and reach for the glass before you and not feel the hot breath of obligation down the back of your neck. All Simon has ever done is give and give, and never once has he taken a single thing. 

When you raise the glass to your lips, you realize things feel lighter. Not enough to keep from crushing you — not enough to cleanse you — but enough for you to notice. It’s contradicting. Subtle, yet glaring. For the first time since you got in this mess, you realize you finally have another shoulder to bear this burden. Hands to dust you off when you fall to the ground; to pull the glass from your palms and bandage them. A heart to listen to when yours refuses to quell. 

Finally, you are not alone, and what a terrifying thought that is.

[hotluncheddie]

denny’s line cook eddie who always works the weekend night shifts. they start late enough to still let him still play gigs, awake and wired and needing something to fill his hands. every week though, he falls more and more in love with a boy that comes in late every saturday night. so late it’s almost morning.

he’s usually giggly and tipsy and flush, always sitting in the same booth with the same girl (maybe the coolest girl eddie’s ever seen). he always orders the same plate of pancakes and bacon and always closes his eyes so sweetly around his first bite. like he’d been thinking about it all night, like he couldn’t wait, like he’s starving.

eddie watches him, from his little window at the pass, watches him enjoy the food eddie made him. always in whatever club outfit he’d decided on that week, sometimes mesh shirts that show of the bit of softness at his middle. or with a hanky around his neck like a cowboy. or with glitter on his cheeks and shorts cut so high eddie’s left breathless over being able to see the squish of his thighs, the curve of his ass. sometimes though, it’s just a polo and jeans, and thats one of eddie’s favourites, it’s when he looked most comfortable.

every saturday eddie watches him have his fill, sit back in the booth and sigh. lay a hand on his stomach lightly, with delicate fingers and a wide palm. and eddie falls more in love.

he always watches the two leave, now quiet and sleepy after winding down for the night, and eddie sighs sadly every time, when he hears the bell tinkle and signal their exit.

he doesn’t even know his name.

steve 🥞

final <3

(this was gonna be a little thing for @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx 5+1 but then i decided it should just go here <;3 @pearynice & @scoops-aboy86 think u might like it too <3)

[htchnr]

♰ too late to turn back now ༻ L. HOWLETT.*ೃ˚

✮ꜜ masterlist. ✮ꜜ buy me a ko-fi!

content warning tooth rotting fluff ⋆ like fr it's disgusting how cute these two are ⋆ unmentioned age gap ⋆ r in her 20s ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

pairing neighbor!old man Logan.

summary sweet moments the morning after your first time together. written with 'Too Late To Turn Back Now' by Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose! give it a listen for those sweet, sappy romantic vibes ;3 wordcount 0,9k.

authors note if y'all want, i can turn this into a small series, with little things that happen over time between these two 🤭 (please, PLEASE send requests for this, i'd love nothing more than more ideas and your thoughts) neighbor!Logan's got a cute cat in this series, (not mentioned yet in this fic) :3

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

soft tunes flow through your apartment as you stand at the stove, deftly flipping bacon pancakes in the pan. the windows are open, fresh air mixing with the thick smell of the pancakes.

Logan grunts as he shifts in your bed, face nuzzling against your pillows as he breathes in the comforting smell of your perfume and your scent.

he misses being wrapped in your scent when he gets up and out of bed, making his way to the doorway leading to the kitchen. he leans against the frame, watching you sway your hips as you quietly sing along to the music coming from your record player. he smiles as he watches your figure move, his shirt from last night covering you.

— SINCE I MET THIS LITTLE WOMAN, I BELIEVE IT'S HAPPENED TO ME.

his heart throbs at the lyrics, he knows it's one of the records he gave you a few weeks ago as a 'thank you' for watching his cat— he claimed he had them 'just laying around', but both of you knew better.

— IT'S TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE I'M FALLING IN LOVE.

you turn around, moving to grab the large plate you were stacking the pancakes on when you spot him. your eyes widen and you jump a little as you lay your eyes on him— oh he looks too fine. boxers hugging his hips, that broad, hairy and scarred chest on full display.

" hey! hope i didn't wake you with the music. " you sheepishly smile, " m'sorry, it's a routine of mine. " you laugh as you turn back to scooping pancakes onto the plate.

he knows it's a routine, he eagerly listens for the sweet sound of your music each morning from the other side of the large wall separating your apartments. but you don't have to know that.

" don't worry 'bout it, doll. there'r worse ways to wake up. " he smiles. god, his smile.

you smile to yourself, turning away from him to hide your blush as you focus on the last batch of pancakes. you gasp as his big hands smooth over your hips, gently swaying with you to the music.

— AND THERE'S NOTHING THAT I CAN DO, IT'S TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW.

he smiles against your hair, it is too late, he thinks to himself. with the way his heart clenches each time he hears you play one of the records he gave you, or when he smells your perfume waft over through his window as you water your plants— he knows he's caught it hard.

— TELL YOU, I CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT, FOR WANTING TO HOLD HER TIGHT.

but with the way you're laughing against him as you two sway to the music, trying to focus on not burning the pancakes— he lets his feelings wash over him in pleasant waves. it is indeed, 'too late to turn back now'.

" so, d'you want syrup with 'em? " your syrupy sweet voice pulls him out of his train of thoughts.

he blinks, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. " you're going to mix syrup with bacon pancakes? " he pokes, moving to take both plates of food from you with ease as he sets them on the table.

you laugh, a sound so sweet to him, he won't ever need extra sugar on anything as long as you're around. " oh, honey, " you grin teasingly, setting down a big jug of syrup on the table as you sit next to him. " i promise you'll love it. " you wink, pouring a generous amount over your stack of pancakes.

he hums, savoring the way you call him 'honey'. he watches you cut off a large bite with your fork, holding your hand beneath the dripping pieces, " c'mon, try it. " you grin.

he sighs with a smile, leaning forward to bite off the pieces from your fork. you giggle as some syrup drips onto his beard, leaning over to swipe it away with your thumb and suck off the sweetness.

Logan watches the action with darkening eyes, as you lick off the remainder of the syrup that dripped from the bite you offered him.

— IT'S TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE I'M FALLING IN LOVE.

it's safe to say, he's taken a strong liking to bacon pancakes drenched in syrup.

[fuctacles]

Forgotten

@steddiemicrofic 'stuff' | T | 483 | no cw | friends with benefits (mentioned), college | Ao3

"Is that all of your stuff?" Steve asks after depositing the last cardboard box in the back of Eddie's van. He sits on the bumper, breathing heavily. 

Eddie jumps down from the inside, and sits down next to him. 

"Think so," he heaves. "Man, this is so weird. Just yesterday I was dumping it all in the dorm and now I'm leaving."

Something twists in Steve's stomach. Well, he knows what, he just refuses to aknowledge it.

"It's just for the summer." Steve reminds him. And himself. 

"Well, yeah, and it's gonna be over so soon. And then I'll be back here again." He turns to Steve, his eyes sparkling, like he's not feeling the same loss he is. "You won't even miss me."

"I don't know." Steve cocks his head. "I'm already missing the constant second-hand high from your weed."

"Is that all I am to you? Free weed?" Eddie asks, appaled.

"No of course not. You have... Other perks." He wiggles eyebrows so the context isn't missed by his roommate.

"Oookay, you bastard. I'm feeling very objectified right now." Eddie scoffs through a smile, pushing Steve with his shoulder. "I thought we were friends!"

Steve laughs, lets the touch on his arm linger. Eddie doesn't move away anyway.

"We are. And I am gonna miss you. You better get the same dorm next term."

After this year in college got halved, it didn't feel like a dorm anymore. It was a home, where he could go back to someone he felt safe with, who would make him laugh, and had the most gorgeous smile on the campus. 

A smile he could kiss and feel all over his body whenever they felt like it. An arrangement they fell into enthusiastically after complaining to each other about disastrous dates. They've found each other attractive, felt comfortable together, and saved time. It was mutually beneficial.

Steve wished more about it was mutual. But he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to ruin a good thing. 

"I'm gonna miss you too Stevie. I'm so glad you're my roommate." Eddie softens, a rare occurance for him, and rakes his fingers through Steve's hair. "Now get your keys, we are having a parting brunch."

"Oh, are we?" Steve raises his eyebrows, but his chest floods with warmth.

"Yeah! You didn't think I'd just leave like that, did you?"

They have pancakes and coffee and when Steve's finally inside the half-empty dorm his stomach twists at the wrongness of it. How much it felt like a date after months of greasy take out and cafeteria food. He sighs, his heart deflating. 

The door opens after a characteristic knock and he looks back.

"Forgot something?"

Eddie nods.

"Yeah, one thing."

Steve expects him to dive under the bed or even mattress, but instead he's suddenly lifting him up.

"Eddie?!"

"I'm taking you with me." He grins. "Wayne already agreed."

[thehighladywrites]

That's your mother, but she's my wife first…

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...

Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.

Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…

Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.

In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 

They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.

This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.

“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.

 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 

You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 

“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.

 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 

Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 

Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 

His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”

Your husband, ever the general.

With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”

You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”

A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”

Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.

Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 

As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.

Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 

Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”

A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”

Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.

“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 

But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 

“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”

 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 

 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.

That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 

You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 

He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.

 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 

He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 

Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 

Huh. 

No wonder you had four kids…

You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.

  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 

You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.

 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.

You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.

“ Don’t cum yet.”

He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.

 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 

You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 

“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”

You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”

Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 

You and your mate, together for all eternity...

[obeythebutler]

Hi! I'm new to your blog so I apologize if I mess anything up.

Could I request MC surprising the brothers with a feast they accidentally cooked up because they were worried that there worried that their wouldn't be enough food for the brothers?

It's 7:30am and his brother still aren't ready for RAD.

Hell, they haven't even stepped down for breakfast. Even Beel, never the one to miss it is missing.

Did all his brothers decide to skip today's classes? Were they orchestrating some other useless prank?

Lucifer stares at his watch, waiting. If they don't come down in the next five minutes he's going to leave them at home and give them detention. Maybe he'll have to pull Mammon out of his bed again, or carry Belphegor down the stairs.

The thought of dragging his brothers like sacks of potatoes down the stairs makes his head ache. It’s always been like this, him caving in so easily to his brothers demands, being so lax on them.

The saving grace is the human exchange student.

MC.

They're on breakfast duty today, and Lucifer can smell the pleasant hint of roasted hellfire mushrooms. Cinnamon too. They've always been a diligent person when it comes to their work.

Unlike his brothers.

Sigh.

"If you all don't hurry up, the food is going to get cold!" Their voice rings from the kitchen, and Lucifer opens his mouth to give one last reprimand to his brothers, to hurry up and come down before he drags them.

There's a blur besides him then, a flurry of moment that messes up his perfectly styled hair.

"Food cooked by the human! I call dibs on it, I'm the great Mammon after all!"

The eldest gawks at his brother, perhaps in disbelief or surprise, and then fixes his hair in resignation. Whatever makes him be on time, his scoldings or MC's voice.

Lucifer rolls his shoulders, steps forward to get into the dining hall instead of the hallway, but then he senses footsteps on the stairs. Five pairs of shoes, each distinguishable from the other.

His brothers are a blur as they surpass him to get to the dining hall.

What the—

At this point, all the man can do is to slap his palm on his forehead.

They won't listen to him, but they'll willingly rush to the dining hall when MC calls, huh? For the sake of hell and everything that is corrupted, they're such simps that its intolerable to watch.

As soon as he steps in though, Lucifer is rendered speechless by the sight in front of him. So are the brothers.

There's just.....so many plates of food. Creamed Bonnacon, Devil Zebra Bacon Sandwich, Hell Pancakes, and that doesn't even cover it. Blood Strawberries, Caramel Shadow Tart, Ghost Watermelon....It's a feast fit for a banquet, and it must have taken so much time to cook all that...

"T-That's......that's just like that anime! Where the main character cooks up a feast for their roommates because they didn't want them to go hungry so they woke up at the crack of—"

"Shut yer mouth Levi." Mammon says, although there is no irritation in his tone as he gapes at the dining table. He can spot some of his favorite foods, given that there are plates and plates of them. He mentioned some of his favorite things to eat to MC long time back, but he didn't think that they would remember.

The fourth-born has a smile on his face now, as he stares at the cat drawn on his pancake with blueberry syrup. It's so cute.

He remembers MC placing some pots and utensils on the table the night before, stating that it would be less time-consuming in mornings given the rush.

His cheeks feel hot.

"Now, darling, that is quite a feast you have cooked up for us!" Asmodeus hangs behind MC's shoulder as he compliments them. There is still flour on their cheeks, and so he wipes it away from them using his thumb, earning squawks of protest from both Levi and Mammon. "Thank you so much! This is soo going on Devilgram!"

"I thought the usual wouldn't be enough," They mumble, nervously shifting their gaze from the brothers to the table. Asmo's weight on their shoulders is a comfortable one, yet the intense scrutiny they are subjected to makes them want to hide away. "Next thing I knew was that I kept adding and adding ingredients until I realised what I did. So you better finish it all."

Belphegor giggles. "That won't be a problem." He can sense his twin's growing hunger at the sight of the feast before him, and food does taste better when cooked by your loved ones. The demon is glad that he chose to be on time today.

Wait, Beel was right besides him, he isn't here....

"Woah—" MC can only stumble out the words as they are caught off guard when pulled into a hug by the sixth born. He's tall, and so warm. "Easy there!"

"Thank you MC!" Beel's voice is full of happiness, and he can't help but hug them for it. He knows his gluttony is a lot to handle, and it causes a lot of trouble for others, but them going out of their way to make extra efforts and ensuring that he and his brothers won't go hungry makes him feel loved.

He'll wait this time, to eat with MC.

"At what time did you wake up to cook all of this?"

You turn your head towards Satan, who is now besides you. Gazing at you ever so softly. "I woke up around three, couldn't sleep since I had drunk a lot of coffee the night before."

"Your sleep schedule will be messed up if you continue," He reprimands you, but his tone is light.

"Thank you for ensuring that we all don't go hungry though." Lucifer smiles as he says that.

Maybe this is what home is.

You and the brothers, cooking too much and enjoying it nevertheless. Casual conversation drifting across the table, with Hell coffee as bitter as ever, packing some for Purgatory Hall residents and leaving together for RAD as the gates to the house close behind you all in remembrance.