#all the times he played 'sous chef' in the kitchen

[merryfortune]

i wanna make a list of all my favourite buster memories but i keep crying

[whorekneecentral]

Sous Chef

Yuki Tsunoda x Chef!Fem!Reader

Warnings: yuki's got a crush, daniel plays match maker, cooking lessons, sexual tension, sex in the kitchen, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), cum play, finger sucking.

Word Count: 2,323

Author's Note: this is a random one, I won't lie to you. it's not very holiday based but it fit yuki so here we are :)) - also a very happy birthday to the queen of audios @2-fast-2-curious thanks for always being unhinged with me <33

merry smutmas series

--

Yuki finds himself more fascinated by the woman cooking than the food on his plate for once. 

The holiday season was underway and Alpha Tauri was hosting their end of season holiday party for all of their staff.

Anyone that knows Yuki, knows his love and appreciation for food. If there wasn't any room in the budget, they got rid of some things to make sure they could fit in a chef. They didn't cater, everything was made to order - something Yuki greatly appreciated.

The younger driver could see into the kitchen from the little cut out they had, the same spot that the waiters would pick up their dishes. She was young, she moved quickly around the kitchen and it seemed as if she was in there alone. He never fully saw the woman behind the doors, just a glimpse of her here and there.

Dinner had wrapped up and thankfully for the woman behind the closed doors, dessert would be a spread, something she could take her time and work on.

Everyone was mingling and Yuki left his seat, making his way to his teammate, Daniel. "Hey man," Daniel smiled at him.

"Hi Danny," Yuki returns the smile, "do you know who the chef was tonight?" He asks, straight to the point.

Daniel nods, "that's y/n, she's a friend of mine. Why?"

"She's fantastic, the food was really good." Yuki tells him, a smile on his face. Daniel glances over at the opened window before looking back to his teammate. "Yeah it was, wasn't it? You know you can go back and tell her that yourself."

"No," Yuki shook his head, "I don't want to disturb her."

"Oh please, y/n cooks at my place with my niece and nephew running circles around her," Daniel slings his arm over his teammate, "I promise you won't be disturbing her, c'mon."

The Aussie walks his teammate towards the kitchen, bumping the door open with his hip as they walk in. You were in the middle of pipping the custard into the tart tins, not bothering to look up and see who was there.

"Don't even think about it," you say, not looking but you do see Daniel's fingers reaching for the Christmas cookies you had set out to cool.

He tsks, making a face at you when you finally look up. "You're no fun," he says, pulling you into a hug. You squished into your friend's side, the man kissing your forehead. "Dinner was great," Daniel says, letting you go.

"Thank you, Danny."

"I've bought a new admirer for you," he raises his brows, looking over at Yuki, the younger driver waving shyly to you. "I'll leave you two to chat," Daniel says, snatching a cookie off the tray before running out the kitchen.

You shook your head at your friend's theatrics, looking at Yuki now. "Please, help yourself," you tell him, nodding towards the cookies on the counter.

He smiles, picking one up and taking a bite. You had gone back to filling the custard tarts when you hear a soft moan. "Everything okay?" You looked up, brows furrowed.

Yuki blushes, "this is so.. wow. I don't have the words."

You chuckled, "thank you."

"I'm Yuki, by the way." He says, sitting on the bench as he eats his cookie.

You smile, "I know, Daniel talks about you all the time." You set the tarts in the fridge, turning around to face him again. "I'm y/n."

"I know, Daniel also talks about you."

The two of you share a laugh, the man watches as you move about the kitchen and set up the last pieces of dessert. "I just wanted to give you my compliments, the food was amazing."

"Yuki, thank you." You smiled, your hand pressed to your chest. "That's a massive compliment coming from you."

"I can't really cook but I do appreciate a good chef when I meet one."

"Well, I'd be more than happy to teach you a few things if you'd like. I'm in London until Wednesday, then we're closed for the holidays so why don't you come by on Tuesday ?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to disturb you if you've got things to do."

You shake your head, "I'm inviting you, it won't be a disturbance. Please say you'll come by. I have a new recipe I want to test out, so I could use the feedback."

"If you insist," Yuki smiles. You nod, "I do, otherwise I will have to fatten up Daniel again and I won't hear the end of it."

"Okay," he nods, "just send me the address and the time."

"I will," you smile.

--

It's late, the restaurant's lights have already been dimmed and the chairs were stacked up on the tables when he walks in. The hostess was on her way out but she let him in, knowing you were expecting him.

"Y/n?" Yuki calls for you, making his way to the back of the restaurant. "Kitchen!" You shout back, you back turned to the door as you stirred something in the pot.

"Hey," he smiles, walking in.

"Hi," you waved, not turning around just yet. "Can you pass by that jar, the one with the gold lid?" Yuki picks up the jar, opening it and passing it to you. the contents were red, and liquid, he read the label; chilli oil.

"What are you making?"

"It's a new recipe, I told you I needed a taste taster," you smile, setting the jar down as you let the sauce boil on the stove. "How was the drive over?"

"Fine." He smiles.

"Good," you wiped your hands on the towel, "I have a few things to finish up and we can eat. Do you mind helping?"

"That's what I'm here for," he gives you a smile, walking over to the sink to wash his hands before returning. In the meantime, you had set up a few things to cut. "Just the peppers and celery." You tell him, cutting a piece of the celery to show him how big you wanted it and you cut a bell pepper, showing him how to do it.

Yuki starts cutting the celery while you turn the stove off, stirring what was in the pot. You watched as he moved onto the peppers, struggling to get them to the same size you had shown him.

"Like this," you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around him as you held his own hand, showing him. Holding the pepper with one hand, you helped him move the knife slowly, up and down as he cut the peppers.

Yuki can't focus on the peppers, he should - to avoid chopping off a finger but he can't help it. All he can feel is your body pressed to his.

Your cheek pressed to his to watch as he cuts them, finally finishing. "Good job, Yuki."

The simple phrase shook him. "Thanks," he whispers as you let go of him, picking up the chopping board as you add the chopped veggies into the sauce.

Yuki sits, asking if there's anything else he can help with but you assure him that you've got the rest. It takes you a few minutes but you finish up, sliding a plate over the counter to him.

"What do we think?" You asked, handing him a fork. Yuki nods, looking down at the food on his plate. "Smells good."

You stand across from the driver quietly, elbow propped up on the counter with his chin in the palm of your hand, watching as he cuts the piece of chicken sitting on top of the pasta. Yuki takes a careful bite, his face going through 6 different emotions, you aren't able to gauge what he was feeling. 

Brows raised as you wait for the final decision. "Well?" You asked, eager to hear what he thought.

Yuki wipes his mouth on the napkin, a smile on his face when he moves his hand, nodding. "Holy fuck.. that is.. wow."

"Yeah?" You smiled, and he nodded. "So good."

"Okay good, I wanted to make sure. It's a new recipe and I wasn't sure."

"It's perfect.. more than perfect." He says, mouth half full as he takes another bite.

You let Yuki finish eating as you tidy up. The man asks if you'll sit down to eat and you let him know that you already ate; you had a bad habit of eating bits and pieces there, never actually sitting down for a full meal.

Despite not helping to make the mess, Yuki offered to help you clean up. You two cleared up the trash and the leftovers, taking them into the fridge and making a bag for Yuki to take home. You decide to wash the few dishes left over from dinner and Yuki decides to hang around for a bit.

Yuki standing behind you, leaning on the counter as he watches you wash the dishes. Your hips bouncing from side to side along to the beat of the music you had playing

There's a tension in the kitchen, you wouldn't be able to cut it with your sharpest knife.

You ignored it, hoping it would go away but it doesn't. You know where it's come from but you aren't sure how to go about it.

Turning to face the man, he reacts before you could.

The man pins you against the counter, his lips find yours as his hand cups your jaw. Yuki's hands wandering across your body, tugging on the shirt you had on. 

Pulling and pushing, little by little the clothes end up on the floor. 

He lifts you onto the counter, your legs on either side of him as he steps between them. Rubbing up your thigh with one hand, the other pulls you by your chin to look at him.

Your eyes find his, watching as he sinks to his knees in front of you. 

Your hands are flat on the cold counter as you feel his tongue against you. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. Your hips jut forward when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his black hair. 

He glances up at you and you’re like an angel on earth to him right now; head tossed back, skin glistening under the white light of the kitchen, his head buried between your legs. 

Yuki mimicked his actions again until he can feel your legs shake, your grip on his hair tighter than before, his name strung along with the explicits leaving your mouth. 

He gives you a minute to catch your breath as he kisses his way back up to your face. He smiles as he stands, kissing you and you're even more ready than you were before. 

“This is wrong,” you whisper to him, eyes fixed on his hand that was wandering across your chest at the moment. 

His lips follow his fingers, kissing and leaving little marks as he goes along his way. His tongue brushes over your nipple, your back arches involuntarily; your body betrays you. 

“We can stop,” he says, a hand slipping between your legs.

You stop talking and pull him closer, kissing him once more; your way of telling him yes. He pulls you toward the edge of the counter a little more before he pushes into you. One ankle is over his shoulder and the other hooked around his hip. 

And once again, you were a sight to see; back arched off the counter, eyes closed and your head tilted back, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the millionth time.

Yuki has never seen a prettiest sight.

He feels you clench around him, the hand on his shoulder digs in, your nails leaving behind their own set of marks. His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. 

“Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.  

“Yuki,” you groaned, eyes pleading with him, “please.” You beg, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Hold on baby, patience.” He tells you, hooking your leg on his hip instead of resting it on the edge of the counter. His lips met yours, a hand resting on your hip to keep you up as he fucked you. The further he pushes, your body just keeps welcoming him like he belonged there.

He can feel you squeezing his cock, your eyes fluttering closed. Yuki smacks your jaw lightly, “look at me,” he tells you. “If you want to cum, open your eyes.”

You give in, your eyes opening a little and Yuki's thrusts are sloppy, you know he’s just as close as you are. A few more thrusts and you’re over the edge, calling his name as you do.

“Where?” He asks, his head on your shoulder and you know it’s not gonna last. 

Your chest is heaving, barely able to hold yourself up, "anywhere."

It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Yuki cums too. The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy. He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Yuki pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

You take a minute to catch your breath, falling back against the counter. Yuki smiles, kissing you once more.

"I should cook you dinner more often." You whispered in the quietness of the kitchen.

Yuki laughs, "I'll thank you like that every time."

--

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[almondx1ao]

Sanji hcs

___________

Words: 1248 (?) some changes have been made

Cw: nothing just hcs

Doing Sanji hcs as a person who just started one piece and just met Sanji.

____________

• The type to push your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek to kiss you.

• gets your attention by lifting your chin until you meet his gaze.

• He's the type to keep track of the things you don't like and do like. Whether that is food or anything else

• Sanji would keep an eye on your portions that you normally eat, and make sure you get that portion everytime. Since he wants you to be full, but not overeat, but also not waste food

• Would absolutely get up and make you more if you were still hungry

• Acts of service and pda/physical touch are his love languages

• Literally would panic because you're upset

• The type of you were to notice his gestures he would accept it but also the type to be in his room giggling and kicking his feet later when he thinks about it.

• Would like it if you played with his hair

• Jealous, and will have more pda because you're his and he wants your attention.

• He would gently pull your gaze to his when he's jealous and lean in and whisper into your ear things like "eyes on me." "Look at me my love."

• Soft spot for pets and kids

• Would be the type to teach you to cook, would internally cry if you got the steps wrong, but not let it show because it's you. Because he's a sous chef he's used to not only making sure the other chefs are doing things right, but doing things in a very quick yet flawless way. He would still be gentle with you, but he is internally crying every time you make a mistake.

• I feel like he would hug you from behind and take your hands to guide them through each step.

• He's making sure that every utensil, pot, pan, ECT is sparkling clean. Would keep the kitchen spotless and organized. Would have one of those knife sharpness testers and an expensive sharpening kit. His tools are always pristine.

• Will get upset if things in the kitchen are out of order

• Loves making food for you because he likes seeing your eyes light up when you taste each dish

• Would have a laid out schedule for everyone to eat, making sure everyone is kept fed during the day, is staring down Luffy if he grabs one snack when it isn't a snack time

• Would make a special plate for you if you didn't like a certain ingredient. People liking the meal is so important to him. Sanji would want to lessen the waste, if he knew that you would pick out something he would not put it in again or at all to begin with.

• If you didn't like him smoking, I don't think he would quit necessarily, unless you found another stress reliever to replace it, but he wouldn't smoke around you

• Very attentive to you, you're his priority.

• during cuddles he would lay his head on your chest.

• I feel like Sanji would like being the big spoon, but also wouldn't mind being the little spoon. Anything is fine as long as he's touching you

• His favorite places to kiss are in the most obvious places

• He's kissing everywhere, but out in public he's making it extra obvious, if there's exposed skin, it's getting kissed.

• Stands tall and is super proud to have you at his side

• Will not hesitate to show you off, absolutely is showing you off

• Bringing you up in every conversation, he literally will not shut up about you.

• A flirt, but once it's you, he's done for. You are the apple of his eye. You would be one of his treasures

• If he's not there when you wake up, he's leaving you a letter on the side table. Making you breakfast in bed everyday, you're the only one that gets special treatment.

• Head over heels for you in everyway possible. Would act like he got shot by cupids arrow.

• I would feel like he would follow you everywhere. Would be moody if he's not near you. He's like a lost puppy.

• Is the type to write love letters, he's sappy.

• Would like to do your hair for you, anything to be close to you he's doing it.

• Has an interest in fashion

• Knows how to do makeup

• Example: you would be getting ready for a date and you were getting frustrated because you weren't liking anything that you were wearing, your hair, your makeup, and your accessories. But he would absolutely notice immediately,

"Sweetheart? What's wrong?"

And you're hysterical as you tell him, he would gently guide your eyes to his and gently smile and look at you,

"You're beautiful no matter what you do."

He would then help you with everything and making sure you like it as well

• If you're acoustic(I promise I'm joking I mean autistic) would have a journal to keep track of what makes you meltdown/shutdown

Favorite stim toys if any

Favorite textures

Comfort foods

Ect.

Would spray something with his cologne to give to you to calm down

• If you were to infodump about something you already have, he would pretend that he knew nothing because he loves hearing you talk.

• Would play it off like it was normal, but seeing you hugging the thing and burying your nose into it Sanji is mentally kicking his feet and giggling that his scent and just him in general brings you comfort

• He would absolutely love that he brings you the most comfort

• Oh and if you asked him to lay on you for compression, do you think he's gonna say no?

• He would call you every name in the book, but I feel like his favorites are sweetheart, darling, and my love

• My love specifically because it has that possessive part to it. Not in a bad way, but a reminder "they're mine" to himself and others.

• Still starstruck that he has you because he flirts all the time obviously but no one has reciprocated. So he feels like he's in a dream and it's unreal.

• A romantic and is the best date planner

• Has expensive tastes, suits aren't cheap.

• If you were the type to not get anything expensive things for yourself and turn down expensive gifts, he's spoiling you and not taking no for an answer. Wouldn't tell you prices either, no matter how much you asked.

• If sanji notices that you have a favorite piece of clothing whether that be pants, shorts, shirt, ECT. He would make sure that it was clean for the next time you wore it. Would match with you as well. He would love it. He would put his cologne on it before you wore anything.

• You're always getting special treatment

• He would memorize your favorite songs, possibly would hum them while he was cooking

• Would be the type to get you a necklace that says I love you in different languages

• Flowers, chocolates, jewelry, and a giant stuffed animal any day, but especially Valentine's.

[penkura]

Completely separate from my original OP men and their kids headcanons, but just imaging Sanji having three daughters, and one more baby is on the way that both of you are convinced is another girl to the point you don't have the ultrasound tech tell you the sex or anything. It's not weird when she asks if you're absolutely sure, you both say yes and don't think anything more about it. You have tons of girls clothes and toys still, your third daughter is only four, you just kept everything since no one else was having a baby at the time. Your youngest tells you she thinks the baby is a boy while your older two say it must be another girl, but you and Sanji don't worry about it, you're going to love this baby as much as your older three.

Then you finally give birth and it's a boy! You really did believe it would be a girl, both you and Sanji did, so when you're told you've had a son, you just about burst into tears while Sanji hugs you tight. He's so happy! You would've been glad with a fourth daughter, but now you have a little boy!

He's so small, but he fits perfectly in your arms, and you can't help kissing his forehead and chubby cheeks over and over again. Sanji almost doesn't let him go for anyone but you, not even for your daughters when they come to see him for the first time.

All three of your girls absolutely love their baby brother. Your youngest calls him her baby and wants nothing more than to hold him all the time, when she's not at school and he's not being fed. Your older two take turns passing him back and forth while he's small, even as he becomes able to lift his head and be played with more, all three of them give him constant attention.

You do love watching your daughters love on their baby brother, but you love even more watching Sanji with your son. He spends most of his free time with all of you, and always has your little boy in his arms when he's still small. He's still shy while he's young, normally hiding his face in Sanji's shirt or shoulder, your husband quietly speaking to him to keep your son calm and comfortable.

He gets old enough to sit up on the counter and watch Sanji cook for you all, wanting to help his dad if he can! Sanji won't let him touch the stove top or oven, but he lets your son mix ingredients or roll out dough until he's big enough to not hurt himself!

You sit in the kitchen and watch them, your son now four, learning to read off recipes with Sanji’s help. Your husband will hand him the simple ingredients to put in the bowl or mix up, and it just makes you smile to see Sanji has his own tiny sous chef now.

[insilanar]

Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!

Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!

Here you go, hope you enjoy <3

Lestappen fic rec

Short-ish fics 🩵

control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k

Summary:

Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k

Summary:

“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

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Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k

Summary:

‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k

Summary:

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Rating: General Audiences

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Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k

Summary:

Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.

Rating: Explicit

-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌

<3

oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k

Summary:

There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.

Rating: General Audiences

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you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k

Summary:

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics above 30 k ❤

Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k

Summary:

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

Rating: Mature

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To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k

Summary:

Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.

Rating: Explicit

<3

Favorite lestappen authors 💕

NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity

Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌

And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!

[ms0milk]

𝟏𝟒 | 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"He does not notice because you are a distraction, the tumult stirring in the castle behind you. He cannot understand his heart’s frustration at your warm fingers against his own."

no cw talking never works for the two of you, will a sparring match? bruises, grappling, unsubtle admiration (with a live studio audience). heartstopping smiles. the arrival of a new and dreadful ghost that reader tries to kill on instinct. 4.5k

PREV | M.LIST | TAGLIST | NEXT

The Queen of Takoba cracks open her bedroom door just as early as you suspected. Threats and growling stop in the face of her beauty, gulps and pulses start up when she yawns. You lower your head to the floor. You kneel beside her chamber door with three glaives pressed sharp to the back of your neck and three dull guards insistent on spoiling your apology.

“Go play,” she murmurs and turns back inside, disinterested.

“It was cute.”

“It was unnecessary,” Bakugou growls.

Princess Fuyumi hikes up her skirts in her floury fists and jogs to keep pace beside her sous chef, “You’re chronic Katsuki, this is ridiculous,” and smiles when he bares his teeth.

“She should be resting.”

“She is not your soldier.”

“She’s a soldier! She is ridiculous, not me!” The two twist in sync through frosty hallways towards Aizawa’s training pit. The castle is teeming with staff and lords this morning so they take back passageways. Morning meetings be dammed– party planning, flower arranging, appetizer testing, inseam measuring get fucked.

You have spent your morning hunting down queens and princesses and completely disregarding the one thing asked of you. You are not so dense as you pretend and as Bakugou storms to find you, he can’t help but be impressed by your dedication to being an uncontainable menace– finding all the places he might hide in Takoba not for his protection, but so you can avoid him when it serves you.

You should have been more careful, Bakugou sneers as he erupts onto the gallery, because where he underestimated you, you underestimated Half n’half and his propensity to be a fucking airhead.

“She looked well this morning.” Todoroki sat on a bench in the kitchen, eyes bleary and nursing a tankard of coffee. His sister and friend hunched over their latest attempt to recreate Alderan biscuits and both jolted when he spoke. Fuyumi sent every telepathic message she could to her brother who just kept talking. Bakugou’s stare melted holes in the table.

“She’s looking for you too Fumi,” the hotandcold prince yawned. Deku was wandering around somewhere with eye bags just like his and they both looked exactly like a stubborn guard had woken them up at dawn, “said she had an errand in the soldiers’ quarters so I gave her the address of your dressfitting in town tonight.”

Bakugou grips the gallery railing above the training pit and the metal in his fist starts to squeal as his magic slips out, because of course you’re there. Striking the training sword your opponent holds over their head desperately, over and over until it cracks and your weapon thunks their shoulder. Of course you’re smiling.

“Kirishima’’ll worry,” Fuyumi wheezes and plants a hand on Bakugou’s back to steady herself. Bakugou doesn’t take his eyes off the ring.

“Let him.”

You’ve overpowered two guisarmier by the time your prince winds through back passageways onto the floor of the pit because you are an Alderan halberdier and Takoba does not train much in polearms. You have also just cracked a middle-ranked sabreur over the head because you are a decorated fencer and your opponent didn’t prepare for melee combat before agreeing to duel.

Your cheeks are red with exertion and excitement. Half-armored soldiers lounge at the edges of the area laughing and hydrating. Some play cards. Uraraka is among them eating snacks and she nudges Shinsou forward with her foot, “You promised.”

“You promised,” you parrot and bounce a few paces into the center of the room because apparently you are well enough to fight Takoba’s future Armorer. Uraraka, the beast of melee and master-in-the-making, snorts and reclines on a pile of pads.

Bakugou steps forward before truly thinking and then Aizawa booms from the office above, “Halberds!” The doom spreading in your prince’s gut doesn’t know whether to multiply or dissipate. You still do not see him. You grin.

Two soldiers pass you the weapons their master ordered and you take your place eagerly while Shinsou finishes dusting himself off. The weapon twirls like a dancer between your hands.

As much as he berates him for it, Bakugou thinks just as much as Deku does.

Did Master Aizawa give you halberds for your advantage or Shinsou’s? Was it meant to embolden you– trick you? Did he predict how cocky you get when you think you have the advantage? Is Shinsou proficient? Is this to humble you?

He is thinking until the second the match bell rings and then gawks. Shinsou readies his weapon gracefully and crouches in position. You flourish the polearm once more in a figure-8 around your chest and shoulders and then abandon it entirely, spear thrust into the ground, to launch and tackle your opponent.

Aizawa wasn’t trying to embarrass you. It wasn't revenge for defeating his soldiers or discharging your weapon into a crowd of dinner guests. Shinsou grunts. He doesn’t drop his weapon but you are obviously too close to use it and his shoulders are already flat on the ground in defeat, “Shiny toys only help if you’re faster than me, weaponmaster.”

Shinsou erupts into laughter underneath you and nods in concession. Aizawa rumbles from his office, “You will learn creativity from Aldera or she will kill you,” clearly smiling as he speaks. Dread evaporates. It looks like they’re running a pin-drill, non-lethal, adaptive, against an unfamiliar fighting style. It’s just training. You’re not being held hostage by an army with a grudge. Takoba is not afraid to demean guests and it wouldn’t be the first time Bakugou picked a fight to defend the dignity of an Alderan. At home you are well respected and intimidating, but everywhere you are odd.

“s’not like we’re going to war,” Shinsou grumbles as you help him to his feet and dust off your knees.

The sabreur cackles under his bag of ice on the sideline, “Lucky us.”

“Royal contender!” Uraraka suddenly sings because she’s bored and has spotted entertainment from across the room, “An exotic prince wishes to challenge our victor.”

Your eyes shift from shared apprentice smiles to the place Uraraka gestures with her chin, the place where Bakugou has forgotten, momentarily, that he has a body.

He shakes his head without taking his eyes off of you.

“What? Does the prince not spar with his soldiers in Aldera?” Uraraka stops short of booing. He only knows she is mocking him because he has known her so long. Your face goes slack like his. “Todoroki trains with us all the time.”

“I’m not fighting an outpatient.”

“Right, of course. Worried three days of coma made her too strong?”

Bakugou scowls knives in her direction. When Master Aizawa descends from his office there is obviously no way out of his apprentice’s instigation.

“Would you consider showing my recruits an Alderan combat exercise?”

He knows you well enough, he has known you all your lives, and when Bakugou looks to you for a response he knows what you’re going to say before your lips part.

“Yes sir.”

“Weapon?”

“Unarmed sir.”

Aizawa nods, “Alderan hand-to-hand then. Takoba relies too much on magic anyway.”

Warmth drains first from Bakugou’s fingers and then his feet as the Master disables his magic and tips his head toward you, standing sure in the center of the arena under sunshine.

“Good morning, Highness” you murmur as your prince skulks into the light and takes his begrudging place in front of you.

“You’ve been fucking busy.”

He is skilled enough not to hurt you, and so this show will be simple. That’s all it is. A performance for the incompetence of Takoba. Aizawa takes a seat beside his apprentices to keep dust far away from his eyes, “Learn something, the lot of you.” His battalion falls silent.

Aldera excels in two things, combat and cultivation. Fruits richer than any on the planet. Warriors fiercer than you could find in hell. Bakugou is a culmination of his parents’ perfect magic and his mother’s aptitude for violence. He can speak the languages of the continent, he has trained under her men and has chosen his own Champion. What are you made of?

Right now it’s something like apprehension as he extends his fist towards you and your open palm to him. Jeanist’s defensive stance, a wide open hand ready to swing, grab, or close. You assume he’ll attack first. Your eyes are bright and focused, muscles warm, and usual braids tied back high with a length ribbon Fuyumi snuck into your dressers. Of course you would recover from a three-day coma overnight. Worry falls from him like a bucket with a hole.

He steps forward in a crouch. Your wrists cross.

“She’s not made of glass, Kats!”

There’s a grunt and he can only assume Aizawa thwacked his apprentice over the head but it’s enough for him to harden his stance because any warrior would dream of the opportunity to catch him in disorganized anger, even for a moment. You don’t flinch.

He wasn’t wasn’t wrong, apprehension fills you and now his worry drips higher. You are no blank unreadable foe and your own worry is written all across your eyes. Jeanist taught a terrible poker face.

“Any day,” Aizawa grumbles this time. You have spent the morning cracking the skulls of Takoba’s guards and now Bakugou is the one who appears apprehensive to a room full of strangers. He looks to you one more time and ducks forward to strike with his fist.

He meant to hit a rib, durable, flexible, and send you to the ground without the danger of a drawn out grapple but you step carefully out of his way. You’re fast, which he knew, but when he readies himself for retaliation you take the beat to solidify your footing and don’t make a single move towards him. It’s just your open palm and a crouch in his direction. The crowd hums.

Fine, one more. This time Bakugou skips forward with his arms drawn high at his side and dips in close to feign a strike to your chest. His kick to your ankles is well timed and serves to surprise onlookers but you only pounce with your feet together, then land beside him where you should have had every instinct to knock him prone. Instead you slip back two more steps out of range and ready yourself again. 

Oh, Bakugou rolls his eyes as he stands again on two feet. He’s overcomplicating the obvious, “You’re permitted to fight me.”

Your ears perk like hound.

“Wouldn’t you like a real opponent after a morning of,” he gestures to the lounging soldiers, “this?” They suck their teeth but do not clamor. Your eyebrows raise in thought because you really do have a terrible poker face. Was that it? Apprehension at hurting your prince? “Cmon then.”

You do not make him wait when, lightfooted, you prance back into striking range. He plants one foot and swings forward to leave an obvious opening, it’s simple and always has been. You will dive into his fake opening and he will pin both your elbows in one arm to drop you on your back with the other.

You do not take the bait or a strike against him. You jump and tuck your head close to your chest to roll across his shoulders when he is still stuck in the motion of his faux swing. Bakugou growls and reaches behind himself to catch you where you land, which you somehow do not, hooking one leg around his waist to sling yourself back where you started. His heart pumps a little faster.

Where he punches, you duck, where he knees, you dodge, where he reaches, you redirect until you have danced your way around the ring a full rotation and still not exchanged a blow.

Are you really this useless without a weapon? Only able to defend? Bakugou spits and dives for your stomach in a full body attack. His heart pumps faster. You fall to your knees and bend far enough to slip under him and back upright on the other side.

He’s seen you fight and knows you’re capable of more than just taunting. Why will you spar with these useless fucks in a foreign kingdom and not him? Prince Bakugou does train with his soldiers at home but never with Jeanist’s precious Second. Everything but gratuitous hardships, a waste of time. Beneath you.

“Does this coward serve my kingdom?!” He roars, heart snapping, and spins when he lands on his palms like a cat to charge. Still like a hound, your ears pull back with his words.

“Take note,” Aizawa mutters.

Now your poker face– a bronze mirror really, channeled through your heart– blazes white hot, perfect. Two more steps. Bakugou was trained by Jeanist too and so you cannot hide from him.

Not that you’re trying to. Not that anything Jeanist taught would help him anticipate your dropped shoulder and open palms coming for him in a head on collision. You’re just as hot-headed as he is if a little shit talk riled you up this much.

Before Bakugou can tackle, you have dove flat underneath of him and grabbed his bicep with those ever-ready fists Jeanist tried to teach him to use. He’s thrown through the air with his own momentum and over your head faster than his heart can beat again. With your fists you pull, with your knees you push, and with two feet planted firm you sling him over your shoulder and sprawled onto the ground a few paces away. You are at his throat before he can blink.

“I am not a coward,” you hiss and hold a hand across his neck in clear victory.

Your prince watches the shape your lips make when you’re biting your cheek like he’s never seen anyone do it before. And the forest fire behind dark lashes. “No,” he breathes.

Aizawa’s knees crack when he stands and normally a few men would giggle, but every eye is on the foreign prince and his secret weapon. “Most deaths on the battlefield happen through carelessness.” The Master is probably pointing and lecturing but all Bakugou hears is the pulse in your chest and the crackle sand makes when sweat drips from the soft parts of your body. You blink to the crowd for a second.

“You should all remember your lessons from Aldera today on the element of surprise.”

“Rematch,” your prince grins. His arms fly above his head and he brings them down faster than you can get away, trapping your limbs against you and flipping you onto your back, much to the entertainment of the audience who, along with startled Aizawa, have forgone the lesson.

He pins your wrists above your head to keep them from gouging his eyes out and pushes hard on your thighs with his hips. A full body hold.

“Cheater!” Uraraka boos.

You think so too because you send a knees straight between his legs. With your speed he can only dodge one strike at a time so when he shifts to block, you pull your arms back in tight. He’s lost fights before, spars against Kirishima and the rest, but he’s only lost to unmatched brute force or poor magic pairings.

When he falls forward, you bow away and wrap an arm around his neck to trap him flat against you with a grunt. Cradle his back with your hips. Lock your arms tight around his throat and taunt him with easy breath over the shell of his ear. It’s been an awfully long time since he’s had to think in a fight. If either of you could hear over the blood in your heads you’d be charmed by the excitement of Aizawa’s men.

“Three out of five,” your prince wheezes and before you can utter your huh, he leverages his weight to roll onto his knees and without any of the gentleness he cautioned before, jerks forward to throw you over his head.

Your grip does soften but not because he’s caught you by surprise. It’s so you can lock your legs around his neck instead of your arms and twist him, writhing, back onto the ground beneath you. His weight won’t help him here. Magic might not make a difference either.

Bakugou has tucked a hand beside his neck to keep you from knocking him out and grunts with two squeezed cheeks between your thighs. The tighter you squeeze, the slower he moves because you’re not the only one with tricks. Think about the body like armor. He snakes his hand through the sand to hide the noise and grabs at the crease where your thigh meets your hip with thick vicegrip fingers. You shudder around him instead of yelping and his heart swells, half at the sound, and half at the opening he’s made.

Slipping out of your hold and back onto his feet where you no longer have the advantage in flexibility or wrestling, he spits sand and gravel. “Ticklish?”

You’re already on your feet just two strikes’ distance away and Bakugou’s heart does something different than beat this time, because you wipe the blood from your split lip and grin. Big and cheesy. Your eyes crinkle like he always imagined they might.

“Four out of seven?”

“Count to ten,” his mother instructed fifteen years ago. “Katsuki, don’t let go of her.”

“Mm.”

She hoisted her beautiful cape over your shoulders beside one another and promised to be right back with clean clothes. The King and Jeanist had scattered in search of the doctor.

“What’s your name?”

You didn’t answer. A gash in your eyebrow had started to swell.

He squeezed your little hand tighter, “You’re at my house.”

“is my mother okay?”

He never could have guessed what the bloodsoaked puppy in his autumn carriage would turn into. That your eyes would go as big as the moon under his magic or that you would love his library and chat with the wind through open windows instead of eating with everyone in the Hall.

This time he is flat on chest and you have both his arms bent behind him tight at the elbow. Aldera doesn’t excel in shit, you excel, in everything. You protect his kingdom on a whim like a brooding dragon.

“I’m unarmed,” Bakugou winces, smiling.

You huff lightheartedly, “me too,” and thumb over the callouses magic made in his palms.

He does not notice because you are a distraction, the tumult stirring in the castle behind you. He cannot understand his heart’s frustration at your warm fingers against his own.

Others notice before he does. You certainly beat him to it.

“What was that?”

“What? Tired already?” He coos and snaps his biceps away from you like he probably could have done this whole time. Your prince is too distracted by everything that makes you– his odd little dragon– neatly trimmed nails and shiny scars like lace sprinkled across every part of your body. The thin line in your eyebrow. The cursed smell of the sea that still clings to your hair and the sweet sour of sparring all morning. He rolls back and bursts to his feet to coax you into another round.

You’re not quite paying attention. For the first time this morning you take your eyes off of him and pebbles drop in his chest because maybe not even a dragon can heal overnight, but you are not in the same daze as yesterday. Your fingers twitch like you’re remembering how to hold something as you rise to face him again– facing but glaring at something through him.

“Down Highness,”

Which is, all in all, a terrible omen because you only look the way you do now when you’re preparing to kill someone you are certainly not supposed to. 

Bakugou snaps around when the doors of the soldier’s quarters explode from their hinges in hellfire.

If the flames had been blue, they might not have been able to stop you. An intruder looms in the smoke of his destruction in the seconds before charging but you are already between Bakugou’s legs and out the other side before he can finish the syllables of your name, diving for a discarded handaxe from earlier duels and leaping– arms crossed over your face to shield from fire– as guard and executioner.

“Wait!”

“Majesty?!”

“Y/n!” With her half suit of armor and two biceps braced at her shoulder, Uraraka crashes into you and destroys your momentum before you can get one good step off the ground. Two guards collide. One is smashed flat across the training room floor.

The intruder does not stop and wouldn’t have flinched if you took his head; he is the most despicable man after all, undeterred by evil or the stench of death.

“Attention whore,” Bakugou spits as Enji Todoroki clears the floor in a wake of screaming flames his soldiers can barely escape. Magic from Aizawa doesn’t refill your prince’s veins fast enough to stop the immolating man from knocking him four good lengths and picking him up again by the front of his tunic in his giant stride. He’s huge. And he’s set himself on fire in his fury.

“Majesty, stand down!”

“Which Alderan rat set fire in the North Wing?” He roars as the prince shakes sand from his hair.

Bakugou bares his teeth so sharp the crowd worries he might bite. He’s close enough to. “Can’t even do absentee father right.”

You are struggling in a poor match between Aldera’s strongest soldier and Takoba’s lightest. No matter what hold or jerk you attempt, trying to escape from Uraraka is like screaming underwater. “I’m sorry!” She groans, mostly at the pin she uses to hold you but also at the fire that hops just out of reach of her greaves. No one remembers the might of the mellow apprentice until she stops smiling. Before you hit the ground your ax soared into the air with a life of its own– it’s still there now. It spins rapidly in its trapped momentum but still floats, harmless, up towards the glass ceiling.

“Highness!” You grunt and Uraraka apologizes again, and again after you try to break her nose with a weightless headbutt.

“I’ll put down your yapping dog and light up every rat infesting my castle,” the King is almost foaming. Bakugou itches at the prospect of a fight.

“Declaration of war, old man?”

“Enough!”

It’s not an accident that you escape– that Uraraka softens– as the princess appears in the arena. The intruder tosses your prince away before sparks can ignite his hellish beard and swings hard at the new voice. You barrel into her. You like a shield and poised in seconds to take his arrogant hand with a shortsword.

You couldn’t possibly know who this is. No one could have guessed he would return, today or at all. Bakugou could only pray that he died at sea long ago.

Mountains of soldiers ready at your back, archers trained on the new man’s neck, hesitant faces twisted with contradiction in every flow of movement– drawing weapons, dashing to the scene, racing to protect their princess and still somehow hesitating– before the giant hand freezes, and you with it, before your sword can cleave it off at the wrist. The flames disappear.

“She said, enough,” Aizawa barks. It’s not a shout, it’s something much more terrible, something like poison. It’s horrible enough to back away with the princess kept tight between your shoulders as the Master approaches. The intruder is not less intimidating without fire. They both glare. Four dozen soldiers watch.

Fuyumi hollers, “I gave the North Wing order!” over your arm when you won’t let her push forward and then your skin prickles at the grating of a voice you hoped was knocked unconscious, safe but out of the way, on the other side of the room.

“No she fucking didn’t,” Bakugou growls, and it’s everything you can manage to keep a hotheaded princess and a live grenade behind the cover of your back. Your prince presses forward, “I’ll burn down this whole fuckass seashell to keep my people warm.”

“Not helping!” Uraraka hisses with a group of her men racing to pat out pockets of flame before they catch on piles of padding. It wasn’t meant to.

The pit is an echo of heartbeats and rapid breathing. Half of the soldiers frozen in their attempt to stop you from killing their King and the other half frozen, now with fear, in their attempt to help. Fuyumi stares at her father through the adjoined shoulders of the Alderan prince and his Captain.

The King looms over the Master with his hands set in fists. No matter how intimidating he tries to be, he is still extinguished. “It was your job to protect my kingdom.”

Aizawa bristles at the insinuation.

“I have been rotting at sea for the sake of this kingdom and you can’t keep a single rat away from–” 

“We weren’t expecting you, Majesty.”

“Would you have done a better job if I penned you a letter? Like a yearning fucking maiden.”

“It’s been eleven years.”

Bakugou knows what he’s doing. Keeping the King from exploding again, but it’s everything he can do to stay beside you on the sidelines and listen without exploding himself. Enji Todoroki looks like shit now that the fire has died down. Expensive shit. A thousand yards of now-ruined silk wrapped and spooled around and over his open chest. Blue and silver as far as the eye can see. What has he been doing for a decade? The belt at his hips drools with obscene wealth. A decorative sword Bakugou would like to see buried in his guts.

What do you think of him? This King. He’s half-giant and half-sea mad already, a waste of muscle and trimmed always in fire. His hair and beard, the ridges of his fingertips that singed round shapes into the collar of his tunic. Bakugou makes a note to ask you about it later, if not just for an excuse to poison another Alderan against him. Not that it would take much push. When he looks down at you, the torchlight behind your eyes flickers furiously with thought.

The King takes one more look around the room when he decides he can’t win in a staring match with Aizawa. “Your Masters never taught you to kneel?” He seeths at his jumbled soldiers and the room immediately scrambles to the ground. You don’t flinch. Shinsou crosses his arms beside his master and Uraraka lays flat on her back in exhaustion some ways off. The King takes his satisfaction with a suck of his teeth and storms back across the room through the doors he destroyed. Fires still hop in the hallway beyond.

You don’t take your eyes off his shape even after it’s gone, “Was that..”

“My father,” Fuyumi answers quickly and equally as distant as you.

“Forgive me, princess.”

“Better luck next time.”

Bakugou watches you both somewhat frozen together, staring after fire, and moves before he’s thought out the action. Your knuckles are white on the sword you still raise.

“Stand down,” he murmurs as his hand wraps around yours. You are so strange. You both know too much. At his touch your weapon drops immediately through your fingers to the floor.

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[little-miss-dilf-lover]

miguel imagines - I can't stop myself from writing him

593 words

he doesn't cook often, but if and when he finally does, he loves to do it with you. he's not an awful cook but not amazing. he just doesn't have much time, patience, energy, or desire to perfect the skill. nor the temperament. but with you, all that goes out the window

you'd both make a date out of cooking together. spend the evening in the kitchen cooking slowly and maybe doing so over a few glasses of wine. there'd be latin music playing from a distant room and it would create a really homely, calm ambience

he'd teach you how to make a recipe he learned, guiding you as if you were his sous-chef. you'd slice and chop the ingredients while he stirred the pan on the heat/ did other bits to prep. he wouldn't want you too far from him, so you and the cutting board would be on the next available counter space

he'd be very touchy-feely, it would all just be so domestic and comforting, something so contrary to his work life. he'd crack a couple jokes here and there, and would softly hum along to the music (he wouldn't do that with anyone but you) every few minutes, he'd kiss your cheek, forehead, nose, shoulder, arm or hand, anything just to feel you

he'd notice you sniffle and the way your eyes would tear as you cut the onions, chuckling as he made his way over to you. "Cariño... sore eyes, hm?" he'd stand closely behind, wrapping his arms around your front, resting his hand on yours and around the knife with the other holding the produce to keep it steady. you'd close your eyes to stop the burning sensation, and miguel would guide your movements, cutting the onions for you, kissing your temple and shoulder in between. "good job," he'd say, kissing your cheek 

after dumping everything in the pan, he'd stand in front of you, mere inches apart, blotting your eyes with a paper towel, one hand would be around the back of your neck, holding as the other patted under your eyes, gently drying them. "better?" he'd chuckle, watching you nod. "Bueno,"

once everything was done he'd plate up while you'd set the table. it would all be pretty and cosy, there'd be candles, and the music would be a little quieter so you could hear one another. a very intimate, quaint atmosphere

he'd sit at the head of the table with you to his left, sitting very close to each other. there would also be some cheeky jokes exchanged due to the wine. he'd call you many spanish terms of endearment, would be so charismatic and charming. you'd both talk freely, without any judgement. maybe you'd gossip about some people at work or complain about your car, and he'd share stories about stupid things the other spiders had said recently

after you finished eating, you'd sit there for a little while, letting the food go down as you continued talking. eventually, you'd both get up, he'd wash up the dishes (saying that it was his job) and you'd clear the table, helping by scraping plates and pans, and cleaning surfaces. you'd finish much earlier than him, so you'd sit on the countertop next to him, sharing more stories and jokes

once everything was away in the kitchen, he'd stand between your legs, kissing you tenderly (possibly to stop you from talking, but you wouldn't mind) his eyes would soften and he'd smile. offering to share a bath before bed, in which you gladly accept

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[blithesharem]

Obey Me Thanksgiving Roles

Lucifer: Wine drunk by 11am hides it ALMOST impeccably.

Mammon: Helping in the kitchen because he wants to follow you around but keeps getting distracted by the Fangol game in the living room

Leviathan: Playing games in an armchair he will only leave twice over the next 6 hours

Satan: Sharing everything he knows about the REAL first thanksgiving and the brutal treatment of natives by the first North American colonizers.

Asmodeus: 4 outfit changes. Orchestrating beautiful table settings. The SECOND the table is he cleared he puts on the Christmas playlist Mariah Carey FIRST

Beelzebub: Was kicked out of the kitchen so he goes on a Turkey Run and then watches Fangol but is equally invested in the parade when Luke finally begs to put it on.

Belphegor: Food coma before the meal even begins. Food coma during the meal. Food coma after the meal. Just…move his legs aside it’s fine.

Diavolo: So fucking giddy. Splits his time between “helping” (getting in the way) in the kitchen, watching TV with Beel and Luke (and Mammon), and muttering things in Lucifer’s ear trying to get him to crack and laugh to prove how drunk he is.

Barbatos: Your loyal sous chef in the kitchen. Brought three different kinds of appetizers to sate everyone’s appetites.

Simeon: He and Luke took care of the desserts. He’s enjoying watching the tv and asking many questions, fascinated by all the strange human customs.

Solomon: Is designated bartender as a way to lure him away from the kitchen. Actually does a pretty decent job except for Belphie who wasn’t listening when Solomon offered “a surprise”.

Luke: Stars in his eyes. Absolutely aggressively committed to the whimsy. Threw his heart and sole into baking and then teared up when the singing float came on tv.

[ciaonicole85]

Part 1: What then?

Some seemingly innocent, but truly mind-altering information is shared in a staff meeting.

Short fan fic. Low-key Sydcarmy/The Bear fluff. Post-season 2. Canon-compliant.

Location: The Bear

Time: 10:05 a.m.

The restaurant had closed lunch service on a Tuesday for a "Development Day". The Bear had been open for 5 months and had a 2 month wait list! After Family and Friends when they had all banded together the Bear crew had gotten tighter than ever. Carmen had been a outsider in his own restaurant for a couple weeks, but soon the dust settled. Even Sydney came around after 3 weeks of his patient groveling. The duo was good and soon The Bear had become one of Chicago Tribune's "Best New Restaurants." However, with success The Bear was changing fast. They had hired more full-time front and kitchen staff, which was great. The downside was that "respectful communication" and "customer complaint management" was waning a little. Things were not terrible, but Richie for whom Ever set the bar in hospitality, The Bear should always be improving, not sliding backwards. Natalie, Carmen and Sydney agreed. They also wanted to discuss new menu changes and a to-go system they would be testing soon.

"Okay, people! Let's get started" Natalie said beckoning everyone to take a seat at the front of house.

Richie stood next her "casually dressed" in a button down blue dress shirt and dark grey slacks.

He began, "As you know The Bear is on track to paying off the loan and we're the freakin' toast of the town right now, but this is not the time to take a nap. We gotta keep our eyes on the prize. So first, up facial regulation as known as RBF awareness."

Natalie tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Richie, I love your enthusiasm, but I thought we might start with an ice breaker?"

He shrugged and continued, "But Nat, has a ice breaker. Take it away".

Natalie resumed.

"So, first we want to thank each of you for being part of this dream and making it fun, rewarding, and successful. As you know The Bear is a family business and since there's new faces here we'd like to get to know you better and vice versa. We'll start with a quick round of "Best and Worst". Just pick a question out of the cup and answer it. Please keep your answers to 2 minutes."

The first question went to Randall, a young man in his early 20's with dark curly hair and thick glasses that frequently fogged in the humid kitchen. He was the new assistant pastry chef.

"What was the best place I ever lived? Hm…Guam. My dad, Army, was stationed on the base and I lived there from age 9-11. I had like 12 friends just on my block and we were always playing soccer, swimming, or riding our bikes. It was awesome."

"Thanks Randall!" Natalie chirped.

The next went to Tina.

"Ok…what is worst advice I've ever been given? Keep your head down and do what you know. That's the advice I used to give myself. Thankfully I didn't listen because now I'm a sous chef!"

Sydney who was sitting near the front between Gary and Carmy, beamed at Tina who returned the smile with a little moisture in her eyes.

The next question went to Marcus.

"Best moment in the last year? It was training at Noma, in Copenhagen. It was my first international trip. I got to stay in a houseboat, explore the city, meet cool people, and figure out that I wanted to do this maybe forever."

The last several months had been really hard due to Marcus's mom's passing. He had returned to work after a week of mourning citing that he knew she wouldn't want him to sit at home now that she was no longer sick. Despite that he was getting better every day and had come up with several new popular dessert specials. Tina was seated next to him and patted his arm.

The next few questions went to new dishwasher, Chris, Fak, and then Gary.

Sydney drew the next question and winced upon reading it. It wouldn't be possible to lie because Marcus already knew the truth.

"What was my best meal ever? Well…it was this pork confit with onions and rhubarb. Then after I had this dish called Milk and Honey."

She kept her eyes plastered on the tiny strip of paper while she spoke. In her peripheral field she could see Carm turning slightly towards her, his cornflower blue eyes boring two holes into the side of her head.

"Sounds grand. Ok, Carmy pick a question" Richie ordered wanting to get down to business by 10:30am.

Carmy didn't seem to hear him. He was on another planet.

"Yo cuz, pick a question!"

He startled and drew a question.

"Uh ok. Best part of my day? Hmmm. Closing up."

It was now Sydney's soul's turn to exit her body. Every night, with few exceptions, she and Carmy ended the night in his office to debrief on the day, perform last checks, and close together.

After a moment she felt his eyes still glancing at her. Without turning she whispered, "Later." The last thing she needed was to look at him, and forget how much time was passing, giving Richie yet another reason to tease them. Not long ago he gave them matching copies of a workplace relationship etiquette tip sheet stapled to an OSHA industrial hygiene handout before leaving them to close.

She sighed, trying to compose herself. It was no big deal. So what that Carm knew he was responsible for the best thing she ever ate? Also, they're partner-friends so it's totally normal that his favorite time of day when is they are together…alone. Right?

UH OH.

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Arven Fluff Alphabet

finally more arven content! thanks to the anon who requested this (sorry for the wait homie)

mostly wholesome fluff, a little bit of angst regarding arven's backstory, sv spoilers and gn! reader

A = Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time?)

It goes without saying but he loves cooking with you and for you. Even if you just sit on his bed while and chat with him while he makes you lunch, it makes him so happy to be doing his favourite thing with his favourite person. If you do want to take part, he’ll gladly make you his little sous-chef, or teach you how to cook if you haven’t before. Things get a little chaotic in the kitchen when you’re taking part, but that’s the best part.

Although the two of you have already explored Paldea together, he still loves when you two head out on an adventure (that includes a picnic obviously) where you wander around, taking in the beauty scenery, battling Pokémon, gathering ingredients, holding hands and enjoying each other’s company.

While neither of you particularly consider studying as a ‘fun’ activity, it is much easier when you study together. The two of you hunker down in one of your dorms and spend the afternoon making notes, helping each other solve equations, understand concepts and badly practise languages. He may be a year ahead of you, but you have some overlap in classes, and you still do your best to help and encourage him with stuff that’s above your grade-level.

He likes gaming with you too! He’s not a big gamer or anything, but he likes when you bring your switch over and you two play Mario Kart or Smash Brothers together. It’s usually fun and silly, but both of you can be quite excitable and competitive!

B = Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Arven really admires your loyalty and kindness. When the two of you first met, he wasn’t the best, most considerate person, he wasn’t used to talking to people, and he was wrapped up in worry about Mabostiff at the time, but that doesn’t excuse his less than stellar behaviour. But still, you helped him, even before you knew why he needed your help.

In terms of your looks…. Arven thinks you’re so damn CUTE! Cuter than a freshly kneaded fidough (sweeter too). Your eyes, your smile, it just makes his heart melt every time. He can never me mad at that cute face.

C = Comfort (how do they help their s/o when they feel down? what makes them feel better?)

His immediate response is to wrap you up in a big, warm, tight hug. He’s not really sure how to verbally comfort someone (and he’s not going to talk to you like he talks to his dog) so he just hugs you close, gently holding your face to his chest and brushing your hair, letting you know you have someone there to protect and comfort you. He won’t say much at all, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say. But he’ll listen. And sometimes that’s all you need.

Plus, you can’t go wrong with a homecooked meal or a baked treat!

He’s not used to being comforted by people. The comfort he’s used to receiving is Mabostiff slumping against him, and he has to wipe away his own tears. Having you comfort him is jarring at first, it’s alien to him, but he settles into it. He likes when you play with his hair, that really relaxes him. Since you’re a person, you actually understand what he’s saying, so it makes him feel better to know you comprehend what’s troubling him.

He also really loves when you just talk to him. Just saying soft and sweet comforting things to him. It’s a small gesture but it means the world.

D = Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o and in general?)

Although it’s a recent decision, he is very set on the idea of being a chef, and he’s already taking steps to reach his goal. He’s not sure if he wants to work in a restaurant, or open his own, or run a little stall or food truck, or even in the school cafeteria. As long as he’s cooking though, he’ll be content.

In terms of getting married and having kids, he, he doesn’t want to think about that right now. You’re both still very young, and he has a lot of… complicated feelings around the subject (rightfully so). But what he does know, is that he wants you by his side, always.

He is not looking forward to graduating before you. He’s gonna miss you so much :( even though you’ll still be able to hang out.

E = Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they rather passive?)

While he does have his bursts of assertion, it’s typically you. You suggest dates, you initiate affection, you steer the ship so to speak. He likes it though, he’s never been in a relationship before so he doesn’t know what he’s doing... but he also likes how he can be the one in charge if he wants, and you have no issue.

F = Fight (how quick are they to forgive their s/o? what are they like in an argument? who says sorry first?)

Arven isn’t the most emotionally mature person. Sure, he had to grow up faster than most, but he doesn’t have the best approach to conflict thanks Sada and Turo. He’s still a teenage boy too.

So, when he argues, he has a habit of blaming the other party, even if he’s at fault. He shouts and flails his arms and pulls at his hair, it can actually be quite scary, considering his build (but of course, he would never lay a hand on you.)

As a result of his upbringing (or lack thereof), it can take him a while to forgive you, even longer to admit fault. He will simmer with his anger by himself, sulking, until his love for you slowly starts to creep back in and soften him up again. He loves you, he misses you… why is he making this harder for the both of you?

He is getting better though.

G = Gifts (what kind of things do they gift to their s/o? are they spontaneous or do they stick to special events like anniversaries?)

When Arven gives gifts, he doesn’t realise that’s what he’s doing. He just thinks he’s looking out for you. It’s typically some kind of homemade snack, or battle items, or school supplies, or even a cute plush or keyring. If he thinks you might need something, or it’ll make you smile, it’s worth every penny/ounce of effort.

For something like your birthday or anniversary, he puts a lot of thought into getting you something you’d like. Typically, instead of getting you one big present, he gets you lots of small ones, basically making you up a goodie bag of thoughtful items.

H = Heart Eyes (what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their love? do they brag about their s/o to others?)

Even before you were together, it was so obvious that he was in love with you Penny had a field day fr. All blushy and happy, constantly thinking and talking about you. He constantly wants to touch your hand and squeeze it. And when you do get together, it’s basically the same, but now he CAN hold your hand.

He’s not super great with words or affection, but those little hand squeezes and big hugs and that look full of adoration tells you all you need.

Arven is your biggest fan hands down, he thinks you’re the coolest thing since sliced bread. He doesn’t even realise he’s bragging, he just loves gushing about how awesome you are <3

I = Impression (what first attracted them to their s/o? how accurate was their first impression to how their s/o actually is?)

He didn’t realise it at first, so oblivious to his own feelings, but he thought you were so cute. Just so cute and pretty. His brain rationalised it into you being helpful and trustworthy (which to his credit, you are)

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?)

ARVEN IS SO JEALOUS! Jealous of literally anybody who interacts with you. And he was like that in your friendship too. You saw how he bickered with Nemona over which one of them was your best friend. It just extends into your relationship.

When he feels particularly threatened, he gets a little huffy and sulky, grabbing your hand, urging you away from the person, sometimes even standing between you and them. He’s not the kind of person who’ll blame you for his jealousy, nor will he stop you meeting up with people he’s jealous of.

His jealousy is born from insecurity and his abandonment issues. Both his parents, people who were supposed to love him unconditionally, left him at different points in his life, and he is so worried you’ll do the same.

K = Kiss (are they a good kisser? what was their first kiss like? where do they kiss the most?)

Arven gives two kinds of kisses; tender, brief, almost unsure kisses, and abrupt, passionate, nigh on suffocating kisses.

Your first kiss was the former. His heart was thumping in his chest as he held your hands in his own, blushing softly as he looked down at you before leaning in, and pressing a brief, but gentle kiss against your lips, smiling all the while. Afterwards, he turned ever redder and started apologising. Poor baby

He loves to kiss your all over your face and your hands. Especially your hands. He likes absentmindedly kissing your knuckles and fingertips.

L = Little Things (what are the little things they love about their s/o? are they attentive?)

He loves your smile, the twinkling in your eyes, how close you like to stand and sit next to him, when you brush his hair away from his face.

He especially loves all the small things you do to make his life easier, like organising his bag, or helping him with his notes or looking after Mabostiff.

M = Marriage (do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the wedding be like?)

Arven… Arven doesn’t know if he wants to get married, you can blame his parents’ failed relationship for that. And you’re both still so young.

He does think about it sometimes though, it’s not a definite no from him. He does like the idea of setting your love in stone, and having a very small wedding, even in a courthouse, could be nice.

If he were to propose, it would be at home. He’d make your favourite meal, you’d eat it by candlelight, and then he’d ask you. Though in reality, you’re more likely to propose.

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o? what do they get called?)

He still calls you ‘little buddy’ because that’s who you are! You’re his little buddy and his s/o and he LOVES you. Your partner should be your best friend, right?

Though, in private, he likes to call you ‘Honeybun’ because you’re just as sweet as one! Penny heard him call you ‘Honeybun’ once and she died.

You sometimes call him ‘Arv’ or ‘Arvy’, and even nicknames like ‘babe’ and ‘sweetie’. He gets very flustered when you call him the last two. In a good way

O = Open (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? is it easy for them to share?)

You probably know more about Arven than he does about himself. Being friends first, you were there for the whole journey saving Mabostiff, and your adventure to Area Zero, where you learned more about his parents, and their fates. So, Arven really doesn’t have much to hide from you anymore.

In saying that, he’s still not the best with his emotions, and he tends to keep them to himself. You are pretty adept at noticing when he’s brooding, and you are always happy to lend an ear, so you do find out what’s going on in the end.

P = Pancakes (are they a good cook? how often do they cook for their s/o? breakfast in bed or fancy dinner dates?)

We all know Arven has an exceptional cooking skill. And he loves to cook too, for you specifically. It makes him feel needed, like a provider, cooking for you. You rarely eat cafeteria food now, when Arven makes you a delicious breakfast, scrumptious lunch and mouth-watering dinner, all out of the kindness of his own heart and a few kisses <3

When you do go out for food, you tend to just go to a little café or a food stall, nothing fancy, but that’s not the point! The point is the two of you enjoying some good grub as you spend time together!

Q = Quirk (a random quality/ability that is beneficial to their relationship.)

Arven runs hot, and he dresses warmly too. So, if you’re ever cold, you basically have your own portable heater (that cooks (and cuddles!)). He can just wrap himself around you in a big hug to heat you up in no time!

R = Romance (how romantic are they? are they cliché or creative?)

Arven is trying his best to be romantic, because he thinks you deserve it, he’s just not 100% sure how to go about it. Cooking for you is romantic, but he doesn’t see it like that, ironically enough.

He just gets you little gifts and hopes it’ll be enough for you.

S = Sleep (who falls asleep first? do they need their s/o close to them? do they have any bad habits?)

You two don’t normally sleep next to each other, only when camping and occasionally a nap when you’re supposed to be studying. Usually, it’s you who falls asleep first, and you blame Arven for being so warm and squishy, however if you are playing with his hair, he will be out like a light.

When you do sleep next to each other, he loves to cuddle you the entire time, having you next to him makes him feel so content.

And of course, Mabostiff inevitably joins you two, by slumping on top of you both and crushing you a little but he’s still the best doggie

T = Thrill (do they need to spice up their relationship with new things or do they stick to a routine? how often do they do new things?)

Arven actually really likes the routine and mundanity of your relationship. After all, he’s not really used to such stability, so he finds comfort in it. Not to mention, being in a relationship is still so new to him, he doesn’t want to overwhelm himself by going too fast or trying new things.

However, if you want to try something, he will probably join you, after some convincing of course or just grabbing his hand and dragging him to it lol

U = Unity (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? what traits do they share?)

Your friendship, and now, relationship, showed him that he didn’t have to do it alone. That he could reach out and get support and companionship. That he deserved love and care and kindness. And he is endlessly grateful for that.

V = Value (how important is their relationship to them? what is it worth compared to other things in their life?)

With the amount of comfort and happiness you’ve brought him, you are probably the most important living thing to him, alongside Mabostiff. You really do fill every day with joy and light, even just a touch of your hands makes him grin like a schoolkid with a crush (which is partially true)

W = Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon.)

He has become your guineapig (would that be a dedenne in this context?) for hairstyling. He loves it, of course. He doesn’t care if he looks silly afterwards, he loves the feel of your hands on his hair.

X = XOXO (do they like to kiss and cuddle? are they upfront about their relationship or rather shy when in public?)

This boy is so incredibly touch starved… all he ever wants to do is hug you close to him, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent OR he wants to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you all over your cute face until your giggling and telling him to stop.

The feel of your softness and warmth against him just makes him all gooey inside, sometimes he just likes slumping himself against you, just to feel you.

So awkward and flustered, he doesn’t really engage in PDA, aside from holding your hand. Occasionally, he will give you a quick kiss in public to say goodbye, but he usually ushers you off to the side to do so.

Y = Yearning (how do they cope when they spend time away from their s/o? do they miss their s/o?)

He does not cope well with your absence. With the two of you being so young, your relationship so new, and basically spending all your time together, it’s inevitable that he gets attached. So, when you’re away on the Kitakami trip, he falls into a slump, missing his little buddy terribly. Every time his phone goes off and it’s not a text from you, his heart breaks a little.

He makes sure to call you every day, trying to hide how much he misses you even if it’s obvious. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for this awesome opportunity, but it’s hard for him without his honeybun!

He will smother you with hugs and kisses when you get back and he will cry

Z = Zoo (do they have pets? do they want some in the future?)

Of course, Mabostiff is your 3’7” 61kg 10+ year old baby. He’s definitely treated more like a pet than the rest of your Pokémon.

With the exception of you -aidon, who Arven has slowly learned to tolerate and love­ over the last few months.

[uhswag]

cupcakes

charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: you decide baking with charles would be a good idea...

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, literally. (i hope someone gets this pun)

a/n: ok first imagine ever hi! hope you all will like it :) it's p short (700 words), and this is like barely proof read bc i'm lazy LOL. anyway enjoy! xoxo bugs 💋

it was the first week of summer break and you were home, but bored, so what do you do when you're bored? you bake.

you walk into the kitchen and grab all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and set them out on the counter. just as you're getting ready to start, charles walks into the kitchen.

"oooh what are you baking today baby?" charles asks curiously, walking towards you while inspecting the array of ingredients across the counter.

"i think i wanna bake cupcakes. care to join me?" you flash smile, knowing what his answer will be.

charles smiles back and pulls you in for a hug "of course, it would be my pleasure."

"wait." he blurted, face going blank.

"what?" you question somewhat nervously, looking at him. confused as to why his face was full of concern.

"i'll be right back!" he shouts, running off into another room.

you stand at the counter confused, until he walks back into the kitchen wearing his red bandana to keep his hair out of his face.

"ok, now i'm ready" he breathed, slightly out of breath from sprinting across the flat to find his bandana.

you laugh in response as he comes over to you, ready to start baking.

"alright but before we start, no fooling around. i actually want these cupcakes to taste good" you say sternly, pointing a slight finger at him.

"don't point fingers at me," he says sassily, pointing his finger right back at you. "you're looking at world class baker right here, thank you very much."

"right…" you hum, raising your eyebrows and smirking as you start to measure out the ingredients.

to your surprise, charles was being an excellent sous-chef, and the cupcake batter was finished with ease.

as you get ready to portion the batter into the tray to bake, charles tries to taste the batter with his finger, but you swat his hand away giving him a glare.

"owww" charles whines sarcastically.

"be patiennnt. and stop being a baby, i know that didn't hurt." you say, rolling your eyes at his childish antics.

he tries to dip his finger in the batter again to taste it, but this time you toss some excess flour you had on the side towards his face. a risky move, but definitely worth it as you can't contain your laughter when you look over at him. the white powder was fully coating his face, hair, and colorful bandana, whilst also leaving a white trail all down his clothes. he looked like a walking powdered donut.

charles stood there with a blank, yet shocked, expression as he starts to move towards you. "two can play at this game, mon amour."

you realize what is about to happen as charles reaches for the jar of icing on the counter. your best attempt to run away led to no avail, as charles smears a fat glob of vanilla icing across your cheek. you try to protest, but charles held you tight as he continues to spread the icing all over your face.

once he is finally done, he pulls away with a cocky grin, looking like a satisfied artist staring at his painting. just as you are about to scold him, he cups your cheeks and compliments, "how are you still so beautiful with icing all over your face?"

grateful the icing was hiding the warm blush that formed on your cheeks, you laugh pushing away from him, "enough with your corny shit, this icing feels disgusting."

"why? it's just like a facial, and i know you love those." he chimes, shooting you a wink.

rolling your eyes, you walk away towards the bathroom to wash the sugary mess off your face, while charles attempts to fix up the kitchen.

both of you freshened up, and as you walk back into the kitchen, you notice the counter is covered in rainbow sprinkles. but as you get closer, you notice the sprinkles were aligned to spell: "i love u".

you look over to charles, who is standing next to you, smirking with pride at his sprinkle art.

"ok maybe i like your corny shit, i guess i love you too," you smile pulling him in for a kiss.

[planetpiastri]

14- kissing under the stars with rooster please🥹❤️

hi birch!! idk what it is, but writing rooster brings the sap outta me. so here's a super sappy, super romantic, super sugary blurb about camping w roo<3 | [wc - 0.9k]

When Bradley first invited you to a weekend getaway at his family cabin with all of his Navy buddies, you weren’t entirely sure you should come. You’d only met Natasha—and Jake, once, but you tried to block out that particular memory, since it involved too many tequila shots and a karaoke machine that only had Mariah Carey—and you and Bradley had only been dating for a few months. It was too soon, right?

But as Reuben and Mickey helped you push your kayak into the lake, and Bob tossed you a half-used can of sunscreen, and Bradley watched proudly from the treeline as he put on a pair of sunglasses, you found yourself immensely glad that he’d convinced you after all.

Bradley joined you in the backseat of the kayak, teasing as he did, “Are you sure you’re supposed to be in the front? Do you even have your pilot’s license?”

“Stand back, nonbeliever,” you shot back, pushing away from the shore before Bradley even had a chance to get comfy. He cried out and laughed, nearly toppling out of the kayak, but managed to right himself.

“Easy, killer,” he chuckled. “You didn’t tell me you were a kayaking machine.”

“Maybe I’m just trying to impress you,” you shot back. “Is it working?”

“Definitely.”

The afternoon passed in a comfortable haze as everybody paddled around the lake, sharing whiteclaws and waters. Jake had blown up an inflatable kiddie pool and stocked it with snacks, booze, and a bluetooth speaker. Classic rock oozed from his round little paradise, and periodically the other pilots would paddle over in their canoes or their inner tubes and nab a soda or a beer from his cooler.

You and Bradley traded your kayak for Bob’s inflatable raft and spent most of the day sprawled out, half-napping, your limbs tangled together and sticky from the sunscreen. When he wrapped his arms around you and tumbled the two of you into the cold water of the lake—subsequently losing his sunglasses—you decided maybe it was time to head back and get dinner.

Conversation flowed easily with everyone as you all paddled back to the cabin and dragged your various flotation devices up onto high ground. Reuben volunteered to start the campfire, and Javy got nominated to light up the grill and get the hot dogs cooking. You joined Natasha in the kitchen as she showed you how to make her famous ‘miscellaneous fruit tart,’ and the two of you banded together to banish Bradley from the kitchen when he kept trying to steal fresh strawberries. Mickey and Bob were put on music detail, filling the wood cabin with old John Denver and Fleetwood Mac tunes. Jake was a surprisingly adept sous chef, helping where Javy told him to and plating out piping-hot dogs built to everyone’s particular specifications.

As the sun set and the stars came out, everyone gathered around the fire pit. You and Bradley shared a two-seater plastic bench, one blanket thrown over both your laps, your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you whispered into the skin of his neck.

“Thanks for coming,” he replied just as quietly, pressing his lips to your hairline.

Under the blanket, his calluses traced the knuckles of your hand, sending shivers up your arm. You shut your eyes and pressed deeper into him.

Mickey, who—along with Jake and Javy—had started drinking around noon and hadn’t ever stopped, was the one to finally tip the night away from ‘sleepy and romantic’ and towards ‘rowdy getaway weekend’ when he stood up and began to conduct everyone in singing along to Dancing in the Dark, which still playing from the open living room windows.

“Do you want to step away for a breather?” Bradley asked you, his hand warm in yours.

You nodded, and the two of you eased out of the two-seater. No one else seemed to notice you leave as you snuck down to the shoreline, hand in hand. The blanket was thrown over Bradley’s shoulder. When you rounded the path and saw the stars glittering on the surface of water, your breath caught in your throat.

“Way better than movie night on your couch, right?” Bradley asked, shaking out the blanket and laying it down on the pine needles.

He sat down, and you curled up against him. You could hear your friends singing and laughing around the bend, and the smell of burnt marshmallows filled the air, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to want to go back. In this moment, in the arms of this wonderful, charming man, you felt perfectly content.

“I love you,” you said before you could think better of it.

When you looked up at Bradley, he was grinning down at you so hard it looked like it hurt. His hand came up to cup your cheek, and when he kissed you, it felt like—oh, of course. It felt right. It felt like your whole life had been leading up to this moment, at this lake, with this man.

He pulled away sooner than you expected, taking your breath with him, and blurted, “Oh—I love you, too. Obviously.”

Your smiles smashed together as you grabbed him by the collar and dragged his mouth back to yours, hardly able to keep the delighted giggle trapped in your chest from spilling out of you. His hand settled on your waist, and you wasted the night away on the shore of the lake, the stars sparkling overhead and your best friends drunkenly singing a short walk away.

[gyllenhaalstories]

CHERISH (PART 2) — CHOCOLATIER!JAKE 🍫

summary: he brings the cream, you bring the pie. together you’re making... cupcakes?

warnings: curse words, food, baking & eating, smut (food play, finger sucking, aphrodisiac, fingering, handjob, pussy spanking, masturbation, penetration, creampie, hyperspermia & cum play). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 3385

gifs credits: me (@/gyllenhaalstories) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i hope you’re ready, because it’s time for you to become a cream filled chocolate truffle! since this THE PART 2 OF THIS FIC, that means it’s still the season of pink, hearts and pink hearts so happy valentine’s day again! 💗 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

When Jake saw you grab the container of store bought frosting, his heart came close to stop beating. He snatched it out of your hand faster than the speed of your spoon diving into the sugary product.

You rolled your eyes at him, and at his genuinely shocked face before you started laughing with him — well no, it was directly at him. Right in his face too, because he remained stoic, holding the jar far out of your reach. “It’s just frosting.”

“It’s not just frosting! It’s the most important part of the cupcakes! It needs to be delicious and that?” His eyes widened while he waved the frosting in the air. “That’s unacceptable.” He put the container back where you found it, with the lid and all. “You can eat it behind my back, like when I’m in the shower —” but we shower together, you interrupted. You counter offered his other suggestions until he gave up and agreed to let you ruin another baked good, but not his cupcakes.

You found it funny how he turned into a busy, overwhelmed mom who was just reminded the night before by her forgetful children that they signed her up for some charity event at the school that would go down in flames without her box-mix cupcakes. He reacted dramatically to a lot of the things, you noticed. After several other dates since your first one at his chocolaterie, you discovered he was... Special. He liked things to be in order, clean and organized especially in the kitchen, while the rest of his life prevailed in a complete chaos. He was so different in and outside of the kitchen, you wondered if he allowed himself to have a bit of fun or if he was too scared that his Kitchen Aid stand mixer would judge him for eternity.

Jake resumed to measuring the rest of the ingredients, following the recipe he knew by heart for having baked it over and over again. He tweaked it to make it his own, he could not help it, but he recited the measurements out loud like a sing-song he learned. Your job as a sous-chef was reduced to putting paper liners in the muffin tin and sucking his finger clean whenever he would present you with a bit of the sweet preparation to taste. Premade frosting was out of the question, but raw eggs seemed to go by just fine.

At some point, you figured he just liked to have you suck on his fingers. Maybe it was the moans he let out when he felt your tongue swirl around his digits, or the fact he would tease your mouth with clean fingers even after the cupcakes were put in the oven. And you loved it too, how the deeper his fingers pushed in your mouth, the more you felt your mind going blank.

The alarm of the timer rang, snapping you back to reality at the poke of a toothpick coming out clean from the chocolate cupcakes. Jake did not stop cooking, and talking to himself about how he hoped Ina Garten would forgive him for his sins — which was to use his own chocolate wafers instead of the semisweet chocolate chips the well-known and even more well-loved chef recommended.

You watched him with an amused smile, while he was measuring the rest of the wafers while waiting for the bain-marie to get ready. He tried to be subtle, you knew it, but you caught him snacking on a couple of pieces of chocolate. So much so that he had just about enough for the last steps of the recipe and the replacement for your forbidden frosting.

Once the water started to simmer, he placed a glass bowl on the pot and poured the chocolate disks in it. He stirred the chocolate as it melted before yours and his eyes, smooth and satiny. He dipped his finger in the hot concoction — his fingers had been long desensitized to burning with all the years of baking he had underneath the cute apron he wore around his waist. It was your Valentine’s day gift to him, belated, but still a thought act.

“You know...” You spoke, Jake’s eyes left the glass bowl to meet with yours. “When I suggested we could bake cupcakes, I didn’t mean we should turn into a fancy bakery. We’ve been at it for a long time.”

He shook his head, in a strangely calm manner. “There’s nothing ironic about baking. I take it very seriously.” He sucked on his own chocolate dipped finger, releasing it with a pop, to further prove his point. “I’m almost done anyway. You’ve helped me plenty, time flew by!” When you rolled your eyes at his comment about your nonexistent help, he insisted. “You’re standing there and looking beautiful with flour hand prints on your butt. That’s more helpful than anything else.”

You earned a kiss that you tried to deepen and make last longer, but Jake pulled away to complete the chocolate ganache. The heavy cream and chocolate mixed together beautifully and you wrapped your arms around his torso while he expertly dipped the now cooled down cupcakes into the chocolate. You tried to sneak a peek of his work, but he was moving so much in your embrace that it made it hard to focus.

He ended your confusion by offering by sharing the rest of the ganache, using a spatula to scoop it from the bowl until the two of you acted giddy, giggling as he licked and kissed drops of sweet goodness that fell on your chin.

It took a little while — a few minutes, really — to notice the familiar sensations that were spreading through your body, starting at your tongue and sending electric waves all the way down between your thighs. Oh.

Oh, yeah, fucking finally, Jake murmured to himself. He smiled just as big and proud as the first time you tried his special chocolate at his boutique during your very first date. He pulled you closer to him, wanting to admire all the small changes that were starting to happen to you. He held your face delicately in his big hands, his eyes diving into yours while your pupils were growing larger and while your mouth dropped ajar. He mirrored everything — how his tongue could not stay still in his mouth like it was begging to touch yours, how your head wanted to loll to the side. “Let it go, sweetheart, let it go.”

The way he cooed at you helped your head get emptier and emptier until... Until you could not think of anything else except him. Except how badly you wanted him and needed to feel him. You wanted to scream at how much it hurt not to have his hands on your breasts or his mouth on your clit. You wanted to beg and beg until he would relieve some of that delicious pain.

His hands slid from your cheeks down to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck while he pulled you in for a kiss that was all tongues and teeth. The longer the kiss lasted, the more he felt like the world around you was vanishing into a thick fog.

It was the same way you felt, using whatever control on your body you had left to make your way to the bedroom. You let him grope your breasts over your clothes, rubbing his thumbs over the small bumps your hard nipples created until he heard you moan into his mouth.

Jake pulled away, only to lick some of the drool that fell down the corner of your mouth and kissed you hard again, making it as messy as he could while his hands kept exploring your body. He pulled moan after moan after you with touches as simple as the warmth of his palms pressing against the goosebumps on your skin.

In a blink of an eye, all of your clothes were piling up on the floor with nothing but your body heat and the burning desire to indulge in each other’s bodies. Unlike the first time you tasted the chocolate, you did not stand alone in this euphoric experience.

Jake looked just about as far gone as you were, with glossy eyes and quick breathing that resembled a needy panting. He was hard, his cock throbbing as you exchanged another series of feverish kisses. When you took him in your hand, he had to lean on you so his knees would not give in. Not that he ignored the effects of the aphrodisiac, but, even after he tested it on you, he realized just how powerful a few bites of that magic substance could be. It made precum leak out of his sensitive, pink tip. It made his abs clench at the strong sensation of your hand stroking him. It made him throw his head back when you cupped his balls into your left hand, using the other one to keep jerking him off.

You could tell he was holding back, with his clenched jaw and the tight grip he had on your soft hips, his short nails digging into your flesh. He wanted to fuck your hand hard and fast and catch his own release.

He did not give in, however. It would all be a waste if he did not get to feel you while being in this physical state, while having his mind and senses played with by a few bites of chocolate. Another kiss, another couple of strokes of his big cock and you were pushed on the bed. Jake barely let you find a comfortable spot to lay on that he was kneeling on the bed too and forcing your legs open to reveal what he wanted the most.

Your inner thighs were covered in your wetness, your folds were slightly puffy from the arousal alone and from this deep, uncontrollable need for Jake to touch you and bring back those fireworks you first experienced under the influence of the aphrodisiac.

“So fucking beautiful.” Jake mumbled, or moaned — both at the same time, actually. The aphrodisiac had him slurring his words and fighting to say a sentence with minimal coherence. He wrapped each arm around one of your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, making you gasp with surprise when you felt your skin slap against his.

You covered your face with your hands as he finally touched you. His flat hand rubbed over your pussy from side to side, fast and harsh. The more he touched you, and the more his fingers rubbed over your clit when your folds moved out of the way, the wetter you were getting. It was so much more intense than your first time, and it kept on getting better.

Jake slapped your puffy folds, although the blows were soft, they were stinging your sensitive skin. He messed with your brain that had trouble differentiating between the pain of the spanks and the bliss of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. He was mesmerized, jaw dropped and eyes wide as he spanked you a few more times and watched you flinch under him. Each spank was followed by a squeal and giggles, mixed with a moan that sounded like music to his ear. He wanted to hear more — he needed more.

You inhaled loudly, only for the oxygen to get stuck in your throat when you felt Jake’s cock pressing at your entrance and sliding inside your tight hole, eased by your wetness and the precum that covered the tip of his cock. You removed your hands from your face and placed them on your tits, trying to hold them in place while he started to fuck you. You only had a few slow and deep strokes to adjust to the delicious feeling of his cock inside your walls before he picked up the pace.

He gripped on your thighs again that he kept pressed against his body so that he could rock his hips back and forth. Curse words you had never heard from him were submerged by the sound of his deep grunts while he kept thrusting inside of you. Somehow, despite the mix of your juices, he could feel your walls tightening and clenching around his length every time he pushed his cock inside of you after pulling back. He was only chasing the maximum pleasure he could pull out of you — and give back to you.

Pretty moans turned into audible gasps and abrupt screaming when his cock hit the spongy spot inside of you. It seemed as though he calculated the number of times he hit your spot, trying to make you feel as good as possible while also stretching out the time he could enjoy your pussy. One look at him confirmed there was not a thought behind those lust-filled eyes, he was driven by his desire to bury his cock as deep inside of you as you would let him.

He clenched his jaw one moment only to press his lips together the next and hold himself back on moaning more so he could get lost in the obscene sounds your bodies created together. The slapping, the sticky wetness, the rushed and heavy breathing. When he could not hold in his own noises, he groaned and slowed down his thrusting.

He was fucking you hard and deep, so deep that you kept being pushed further away on the bed, dragging the bed sheets with you. “Please,” you spoke for what felt like the first time in forever. “Please, don’t stop!”

He did stop. He stopped to look down at where your bodies no longer met as the distance pulled you away from him, his cock bopping up and down, begging to be reunited with your pussy. Jake took a moment to catch his breath and admire the beautiful scene before his eyes. The veins of his arms, and cock, were bulging out from the sheer force with with he was fucking you. There was a layer of sweat covering both his body and yours, and visible wet spots on the bed sheets that created a trail from the edge of the bed to the middle where you now laid.

Impatient, your body burning into flames, you sat to reach up and pull Jake down with you. He was quick enough to climb on the bed, the tip of his cock brushing against the same wet spots you left behind on the fabric, and you held his cock in your hand briefly to guide it back where it belonged.

He pushed himself all the way back inside you, now kneeling between your thighs that he kept open for him — and for you. Withing even having to tell you, Jake loved to watch you rub the sensitive bundle of nerves that resided between your just as sensitive, soaking wet folds. He pulled away, just a little, and slammed himself back inside of you as he fucked you in this other position.

The aphrodisiac was nowhere near close to run out, you could tell. It still felt just as intense as it did while the effects began to work their magic over you. Your bodies, however, were running out of energy to last. You could tell that too by the fact you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm now that you rubbed your clit in a just as messy rhythm as the one Jake fucked you with.

He was getting so close too, his grunts became more succinct and his face tensed up with the powerful pleasure that ran through his veins. There was no need to speak, words were completely unnecessary as Jake and you let the aphrodisiac take complete control over you.

Your orgasm hit you by surprise, or well, sort of. As soon as you felt that familiar knot in your lower stomach, you knew you were about to explode in an orgasm that pushed the air out of your lungs and made you see stars even when you closed your eyes. It felt even stronger with your eyes closed than it did when you kept them open. It felt as though you could notice each vein on Jake’s cock, the swollen tip of his cock diving in and out of your slick walls. And then you felt it. All of it.

Jake fell down to his elbows, his face conveniently buried in the crook of your neck as he came inside of you, his pelvis flushed with you from how deep he was. Ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock while his hips jerked a few times uncontrollably, until he felt like something was pushing him out.

It was not you, not intentionally at least. You would have loved nothing more than to calm down from your high with the feeling of Jake’s cock softening inside of you. Although you could feel something still filling you up even if his cock was sliding out of you.

“Oh my,” Jake spoke when he finally pulled out of your pussy. “Oh my God.” It was still hitting him, he was still cumming with more of his seed just dripping out of his slit. There was even more trickling out of your hole. You looked as confused as Jake. This did not happen with him before... This had never happened to him before. His brows were raised in stupefaction one second and furrowed in confusion the next, he held his cock at the base in one hand while two fingers of his free hand dipped into your cum filled entrance.

It felt so good when he pushed his fingers barely past your entrance, as he felt even more cum inside of you. Quickly, he replaced his fingers with his cock and made you scream of pleasure as he finished inside you with a few more thrusts and pumps. You realized he fucked his cum back inside of you, not even minding that most of it was covering his cock and oozing out of you.

He fell back on you again, slowly and carefully this time so he did not hurt you. And, finally, you cherished the feeling of his softening cock inside of you while you both tried to catch your breath. Jake was mumbling to himself how it felt incredible, how it was so weird and so hot, and how he wanted to do it again — and he wanted it so fucking bad. He tried to move, arms and legs incredibly shaky, but you held him tighter and closer against your just as tired body.

“Where are you trying to go?” You whined, making room between your legs for him to lay down more comfortably.

Jake giggled in your ear, his laughter filled with excitement. The kisses he pressed all over your cheek, jawline and neck were filled with just as much lust as they were earlier. “Trying to get up to grab a snack.”

He squirmed on top of you, but all he managed to do was fall by your side and hug you tight against him. If he wanted to get up, he was failing rather adorably. “A snack? For what?” You turned your head to look at him, you were so close your noses almost touched.

He smiled at you, the same smile he had glued on his pretty face during your date at the boutique. You swore to yourself you would cherish this image forever. “So we can do that again. And again...” He leaned in closer to capture your lips with a kiss. “And again until there’s no more of that good stuff.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, that was the strongest reaction you could express with how exhausted you felt after this mind blowing orgasm. “It’s in the cupcakes?” Yup. “All of them?” Jake nodded in approval. “I can’t take it anymore. Not right now.” You tried to resonate with him, only the way your voice cracked betrayed your own desire to try it again and again...

“You’ll take it.” Jake answered, quite firmly. “Because this magic chocolate will definitely be in all the desserts we bake from now on.”

[here222lurk]

Toji Fushiguro Vs. The Plushies

Will Toji win the IDGAF war? 

Part 2

Warnings: 18+ only, fem!reader, fingering, tit worship, sex, breeding, and this is my first fic in a hot second (8 years)

3 months have passed since you put a label on your relationship. It's been 3 months since Toji started introducing you as his girlfriend, but you still feel giddy every time. You spend your weekends together sometimes in his apartment, but most times outside trying to see the city in a new lens that only you two share. It feels like the right thing to do after having endured the work week. 

But today, you decided to cook for him in your apartment. You saw this pasta recipe on TikTok that you think he’d like so you decided to make it for him today. 

The night before, he made sure to ask if you had all the ingredients you needed on hand, knowing damn well a minor inconvenience can send you spiraling. He made sure to pass by the weekend market to get fresh pasta and tomatoes on the way to your place.

Toji was eager to help and even volunteered to be your sous chef. You weren’t too excited about this. You never really liked when other people were in your way in the kitchen, but to your surprise, he was actually not bad in the kitchen. He knows how to hold a knife and clean as he goes. 

It was nice seeing him harvesting herbs by your kitchen window while you prepare the garlic bread. He’s focused and looking so pensive hunched over a pot of basil, the warm sun shining over his face. He just looked so… beautiful wearing the same skin tight black shirt that hugs his chest in a way that’ll never fail to make your heart beat harder than usual.

“Hey y/n eyes up here,” walking towards you.

You snapped out of the trance he put you in and blushed, “I’m sorry! It’s hard to concentrate when there’s a giant whore hunkered over my herb garden.”

You both laughed at how absurd your brain fart reply was. 

“What?! I’m not…” he paused, “Well maybe for you I am,” he replied while flashing the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen.  

“Yeah? Prove it.”

“Oh I will,” you feel him hugging you from behind with his hard dick pressed against you.

“After lunch maybe? I’m starving….”

“Yes, chef!” he says sardonically. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That was really good. Thank you,” Toji says while he trails to the kitchen holding used plates and utensils. 

“Don’t start bullshitting me” You stay seated at the dining table but your gaze follows him.

“I’m not! Oh how can I ever repay you, my culinary princess?”

“Simple. 25 bucks for the pasta plus 5 for the bread.”

“That’s too much for me, you brat… Will this do?” his voice gets more audible as he walks back to you.

You feel him guiding your shoulders to make you face him. Toji towers over you on your left side. The impression of his hard dick clearly visible underneath his pants. 

You feel your cheeks getting hotter, but try to play it cool looking displeased “Maaaybe…”

“Then let’s find out,” Toji holds your hand as you head towards your bed. 

Your room is a bit messy with your office clothes still on your mattress from all those nights you came home from work feeling too tired to grab a clean shirt to sleep in. You push them off the bed, careful not to send your plushies plummeting to their death along with your clothes. You managed to save them all except for a fluffy pink cow plushie.

The crystal ball you hanged on your window catches the bright afternoon sun and illuminates specks of color around your room. You sit on your bed watching the specks move slowly on Toji as he undresses. You’re unsure if you’ve seen a view prettier than this. He takes his shirt off first, revealing the familiar scars on his body. His pants follow, falling to the floor.

“What’s the matter? Hmm?” he whispers onto your neck. Feeling his warm breath sends a shiver down your spine. He kisses you softly behind your ear, his hand making its way inside your underwear. 

His fingers feel cold against your clit. You push your thighs together as a reflex. 

“If you’re not gonna talk to me can you at least keep this warm for me?” you feel his finger sliding further into your folds. You stifle a moan trying to come up with a reply to humble his smug ass but you lose to his gentle touch and his quickening pace. His movement is encouraged by your wetness. Two fingers begin to slide inside, stretching your entrance. He rests his fingers in the spot you like best and glides over it repeatedly. You feel yourself tightening around his fingers

Tojiiii

You like that, brat?

Mmmmh

He pulls you in for a kiss and you reach for his dick. Starting your grip from his base to his tip. You feel him already wet with pre-cum and it makes you smile.

“Already?” you tease.

He begins to undo your buttons and take off your bra. Exposing your chest he palms your hard nipples. “Already?” he teases back. He looks so smug the scar on his lip inches upward.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you in that apron” Toji is a boob guy degenerate who heads straight to lick around your nipples. You feel your nub get harder as he wraps his mouth around your left nipple to suck on it. He sucks harder and harder and the volume of your moans follow suit. 

His idle hand alternates between rubbing your right nipple and pawing on your boob. He groans as he buries his face into your flesh. You can feel his dick grinding on your bare thigh unsure when you took your bottoms off.

The two of you close the distance between each other. You make out like it’s your last and he opens your legs up for him to hold your knees in place. He moans while putting the tip of his penis in and stays there, waiting for you to settle. You grow impatient and scoot your hips to push him further inside. He meets your pace and pretty soon the room is filled with the sound of you and Toji.

His crotch lands on your clit with every grind, making you wetter than you already are. You're too occupied with pleasure that the only coherent thing you could say is “Please.”

You feel his square jaw touch your neck as he starts moaning in your ear. “You look so fucking hot when youre begging for my dick, my princess” he whispers in your ear. And you’re done for. You feel yourself cumming around his hard dick. Your pussy twitching, trying to milk his dick for everything he has. “‘M cumminggg,” as your nails dig into his shoulders. You let yourself loose grinding against him.

Your legs feel like mush but your core keeps its tight grip around him. Toji pumps into you at a faster, frenzied pace. He looks so desperate for relief it’s adorable. He stares at you wondering how you’re the same person who used to find him so insufferable before. Your usually uptight face is replaced with a lewd look that tears him up inside. You find yourself close to cumming again. But before you could share this with Toji, you hear him say “Be my cumslut, baby.” You feel him shooting warm squirts of his thick cum inside you as you pulsate around him. It feels unreal cumming at the same time. It makes you wish you weren’t wearing an implant so he can ruin your life plans and give Megumi a sibling. 

He gets his weight off of you and you start to notice the sun beaming across your bedroom, giving the space an orange tone. You didn’t realize how late in the afternoon it already is.

Your head rests on Toji’s chest as he wraps his arm around you. You watch him breathe heavily as he comes down from rearranging your guts. It’s getting a bit toasty in your pile of limbs, but it feels nice in the February chill. You stay like this, just quiet for a minute before you feel your eyelids get heavier and heavier. The last thing you remember is him kissing your forehead whispering “I love you, y/n” so quietly that you’re not sure if what you heard was a dream or not. You drift off to sleep.

You wake up suddenly feeling like you were falling from a cliff for a second, but you were caught by Toji’s big arms reminding you that you’re safe and he’s here. You wrap your arm around him, pulling him closer. His hand is placed on your back tracing soft random lines that comfort you for whatever reason. 

“Babe? Can I ask you something?” Toji asks you in a low voice. 

“Yeah sure. Always.” You prop yourself up to face him instinctively tilting your head ever so slightly to the side.

He cups your cheek and looks you in the eyes. “How many of these bed hogging plushies are from your dumbass ex?”

You laugh but this question took you aback a bit since you haven’t really decluttered recently. It’s not like the old stuff you received from past relationships still means anything. They just kind of faded in the background and you never really gave them a second thought.

You point to 4 out of 7 plushies on your bed and count simultaneously. “So, four. Oh and that cow on the floor.” Answering made you feel a little embarrassed not realizing how much of the plushies you own came from previous partners. You and Toji only started dating officially only a few months ago. Making him feel uncomfortable is not in the list of things you want to do. 

He follows your index finger and studies the plushies. “Are you into the super soft ones or fluffy ones?” he asks.

“Hm… I have no preference, really… Just anything that you think I’ll like is great.” 

So the next time you meet Toji in the train station, he’ll be picking you up from work and you’ll see a soft green unit big enough to be your pillow. It’s a lot to hold but it looks small when Toji carries it by his side.

“No way. Is this for me?” 

“It’s for my side chick actually.”

You give him a side eye. One pout and he back tracks in record time. 

“It’s for my favorite brat, obviously.” he hands the frog plushie to you and gives you a tender kiss. 

You bury your face in the soft plush and it instantly reminds you of the stuffed toy that never left your side when you were a kid. It smells just like Toji.

“Oh he’s so grumpy,” you can’t help but let out a high pitched adoration for the frog.

His brows furrow upwards, “You don’t like it?”

“He’s perfect. He looks just like you,” you reply, tears forming in your eyes. “I’ll never sleep without Jiji again,” you named the frog. 

“Oh you better.” he smirks.

The frog plushie in question

Part 2 soon????

[0alanasworld0]

Brownies and Macarons (Nayef Aguerd x reader)

Request: Hey luv , can we get a nayef fanfic when he's helping the reader in the kitchen? Thank you

Warnings: references to sex

“Why don’t you ever ask me to help you cook?” It’s a perfectly valid question, he thinks. And it should come with a simple answer yet the way you freeze… he’s confused.

You look up slowly from your laptop and at him; he’s on the floor, back leaned against the wall as he awaited your response.

“What?” you try to play dumb and buy yourself a little bit of time: you needed to construct a response. You weren’t sure of how to phrase it but Nayef was… excitable. Always full of the sweetest positive energy that made him so loveable. It was a big chunk of why you fell in love with him. It was a big reason why he was such an incredible defender.

There were so many positives to Nayef’s endless supply of energy but it also made other things a little difficult. Concentration was sometimes a struggle for him; his mind ran as fast as his legs did so that made time-intensive tasks an absolute nightmare. You were surprised that he didn’t see the glaring problem.

“You heard.” he narrows his eyes.

“Would you even be interested in that kind of thing?! I mean it's kind of time-consuming…” in all honesty, you just worried for the state of the kitchen in general. You didn’t have a good feeling about it.

“Of course! If you love it so much, I need to make an effort to take interest!” you smile at his explanation. He was always so incredibly thoughtful, kind, loving. When it came to aspects of your relationship, he always went all out for you. It made your heart flutter, you couldn’t ask for anything better yet he always found ways to outdo himself.

“That’s one of the cutest things you’ve ever said but you know… I don’t want you to give yourself a migraine trying to focus on cooking out flour!” Anything but directly telling him the problem but he seemed to understand and was rather offended by what you had insinuated.

“Hey! I focus when it matters!” he attempts to defend himself and you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Yeah maybe on your slide tackles…” you laugh and he gasps.

“And on the love of my life! I could probably become the best goalkeeper of all time if it meant making you happy!” you hide your face in your hands as it heats up, as if he didn’t have you flustered with every word uttered towards you.

“Come on! Pleeeeeease! I’ll try super hard to stay concentrated, I promise!” the sight in front of you is a funny one. Him begging on your knees, eyes squeezed shut and hands pressed together, he was really going all out to convince you and you knew he wouldn’t let things go.

“Okay, fine!” you concede with a sigh and he jumps up from his position at the speed of light to hug you. It knocks the breath out of you and it also nearly knocks you out of your chair. He quickly lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and spins you around. You squeak in surprise and he slowly lets you down and onto your feet. He can’t help but go for another hug and you can’t help but laugh at his excitement. You weren’t used to people taking this much interest in your hobbies and you perhaps deserved better but you had it now. He was right in front of you, literally buzzing with joy at the simple idea of being your sous-chef.

“Come on! No time to waste!” he’s already dragging you to the kitchen but you somehow manage to stop him.

“We literally only have the ingredients for brownies right now!”

“Then I’m going to help you make the best damn brownies the world has ever seen!” the shrugs nonchalantly. Oh this was going to be a fun few hours.

He decides that dragging you is fruitless and takes to carrying you in his arms to the kitchen instead so you’re in a fit of giggles by the time you reach.

Once he sets you down, you immediately get to grabbing all the ingredients with him trailing along almost helplessly. While most of the stuff is within reach, you notice that a couple of your favourite mixing bowls are placed perhaps a centimetre too far out of reach; in the very top compartment of your cupboard. You begin your normal routine of scaling the counter to reach it but Nayef isn’t particularly impressed. Before you even lift the first leg onto the counter, you feel his warmth behind you. Then his hand on your waist as he leans over and grabs it with ease.You’re sure he didn’t have to lean over like that and the feeling of his chest pressing against your back made you unreasonably flustered. And of course, he has to top it all off with a kiss to your temple.

“You’re a menace.” you shake your head as he gives you space to grab the milk from the fridge.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he shrugs coolly but the smirk on his face suggests that he knew EXACTLY what you were talking about. Oh you were going to put him to work today, that was for sure.

“Okay so I’ll-”

“No wait! We need music!” he gasps, grabbing the speaker and his phone from the living room. You had to admit, you were getting tired of this particular song choice because you had been hearing it on loop since the world cup but you decided that you were going to cope because anything to help him focus, right?

“May I continue, ambassador?” you joke, flicking his ear and he whines.

“Hey, you should be appreciating my efforts! We need an atmosphere!” you shake your head in response and continue.

“Okay, I’ll measure out the butter and sugar and you’re gonna cream them together, easy.” 

“What on earth is that supposed to mean?” he looks horrified at the word and you can’t help but laugh as you measure the stuff out. He had so much to learn.

“Just mix them together.” you hand him the bowl and spoon and he enthusiastically gets started, snatching the things from your hands.

“They should really come up with another word for that.” he notes and you hum in agreement, trying your best not to laugh again at him. While he’s preoccupied with the butter and sugar, you take the time to chop up the baking chocolate. You had to admit, it was nice having someone to accompany you as you went about your interests. To have someone genuinely invested in something you loved for the sheer sake of making you happy. Even the addition of the music was a nice touch. 

You snap out of your thoughts as he shows you his work and thank goodness for his arms because what would have taken you 7 minutes and arm cramps took him 3. 

“It looks perfect, my love!” his excitement bubbles through and hugs your side, slightly lifting you into the air. Maybe this was a good idea all along.

“Okay, 2 eggs and one teaspoon of vanilla in the bowl next!” you’re in the middle of passing the egg box to him when you hesitate.

“Maybe vanilla would be easier…” he once again takes offence, placing his hands around the box and tugging gently.

“Angel…” he whines. Sure, he got a little bit over excited sometimes but eggs? He would surely manage. You eventually relent, letting go of the box and he places it on his side of the counter, taking out two of the eggs as you pour the teaspoon of vanilla into the mix. He’s about to crack the first one but you see the look in his eyes and you already know his mind has wandered elsewhere.

“Have you seen the thing where they crack eggs with their biceps?” he asks and you sigh out.

“A couple times, maybe.”  

“I bet I could- no wait, brownies.” he shakes his head and you can’t help but smile. You had to applaud him for how hard he must have been trying.

He gets back on task, cracking the eggs while you measure out the flour and cocoa powder. He’s a little confused when you bring out his espresso powder, however.

“Coffee brownies?” he innocently inquires and you can’t hold back a laugh this time. He pouts at your response.

“It’s only a little bit! It helps the chocolate taste more like chocolate!” you can tell he’s still a little confused but he brushes it off, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before cracking the second egg.

“You’re the expert I gue- oh nooooooooo…” he whines and huffs and you look over at his station.

“What’s wrong?” you place a comforting hand on his back while he sulks.

“The egg shell! I was being careful, I swear!” He defends and you rub his back soothingly.

“Oh don’t worry about that, it’s an easy fix, see!” you grab the larger egg shell from the counter to scoop the broken piece from the batter. He sighs out in relief but he looks panicked again and you look over, awaiting his next question.

“Don’t impurities ruin the texture? I saw a video about that with those weird french cookie sandwich things! The entire batch is ruined!” he panics and you double over in laughter.

“I just ruined our brownies and you’re laughing?!” he genuinely is baffled by the way you’re continuing to giggle. 

“Love, macarons and brownies… not the same…” you try to take some deep breaths to recover from your laughing fit and he gives a quiet “oh” and it almost sets you off again but you manage to hold back, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes and you get back to measuring.

“Okay now mix all of that together, I’ll tell you when to stop.” He listens diligently, again putting those arms to work.

“This bit is important for the crackly top!” he gasps, eyes lit up from excitement.

“Oh the paper?”

“... sure, whatever you wanna call it.” his mind amazed you at times. He ups the intensity of his mixing while you take on the much easier job of mixing the flour and cocoa and melting the chocolate in the microwave. Once again, the job is done in no time as you take a look at the perfectly airy mixture.

“That's perfect, now add the espresso water and chocolate and start mixing again.” he nods.

“I’m basically a pro at this, we could so start a business together. Your brains and my greek statue muscles: we’d be unstoppable!” you smile at his enthusiasm. 

“Living the dream!” he nods excitedly.

“See! You’re warming up to my ideas now, right?” you shake your head at his silliness, no one made you laugh like he did. He really was special.

“Okay now just the flour and cocoa and your job is done!” he hums allowing you to dump the dry mixture in before getting to work again. There would be no arm cramps for you this time around. 

You get a second to look at him as he carefully mixes the batter. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have Nayef in your life. Someone so naturally optimistic and fun. Someone who never made you feel silly or irrational about your interests. Someone who was always introducing you to new things and finding ways to spend time with you. You had hit the jackpot. 

“Okay, I think that's done so just pour it into the tray and I’ll put it in the oven!” he nods excitedly, carefully pouring the mixture in and allowing you to handle the rest. He takes his well-earned reward of licking the spoon and bowl while you get everything in check and set the timer.

“You enjoying yourself there?” you laugh a little at his joyful state. He looked absolutely adorable and you couldn’t help but press a kiss to his cheek.

“Very much so, we’re literally the perfect team, see!” he points out, referring to your earlier doubts and you had to admit that he was right. It really was the perfect way to spend time together. A part of you felt healed by the way he was trying so hard to do everything perfectly. He didn’t see it as a joke, he genuinely was trying to appreciate one of your favourite past-times.

“I know one thing we could do to pass the time…” he raises his eyebrows suggestively, placing the bowl back on the counter and allowing his arms to find purchase around your waist. He goes for a kiss but you stop him, eyes narrowed.

“As if thirty minutes is ever enough for you! I’d rather not risk burning the house down over this”

“Hey, I can control myself!” he pleads but you’re having none of it. He may have proved you wrong with the baking but when it came to more intimate things, he was insatiable.

You insist that you get everything cleaned up before anything else and relents, although he is sulking the entire time. His mind seems to have drifted from his first idea when he hears the music coming up from the speaker.

“Hey I love this song, come on!” he moves on from the first topic pretty quickly, perking up almost immediately as the familiar melody plays. He pulls you with him, taking your hands in his. You can’t help but indulge in his goofy antics as you dance together to the music, albeit completely offbeat. You really didn’t get much alone time with him and you were so grateful you were spending it so wisely. And he was beyond relieved, getting to spend an afternoon doing one of your favourite things was the mind-boost he needed after such a gruelling season. It was undoubtedly an extremely successful one but he was exhausted nonetheless. And finally having the time to spend on you was worth every muscle cramp he had endured.

You don’t even realise that time has flown by so quickly and you’re both caught completely off guard when the timer goes off. You’re both pulled out of your little bubble and come back to reality. You somehow hadn’t picked up on it while you were ‘dancing’ but the kitchen smelt heavenly. You quickly put on your oven gloves and take the tray from the oven, placing it down on the counter and he’s already seated, eyes fixated on it.

“It’s gonna take like an hour to cool, my love.” you remind him and he sighs dramatically, head dropping onto the counter, eyes still focused on the brownies.

“You know there isn’t a risk of the house burning down anymore…” you trail off with a smirk, throwing off the oven gloves and sauntering over to the stairs. He’s up and off the counter immediately, hot on your heels as you walk up the stairs.

“Say no more!”

It may have been well over an hour by the time he was done with you. You weren’t entirely sure and the brownies were the last thing on your mind as you drifted in and out of sleep, the hand smoothing circles on your back only lulling you close your eyes.

It may have been the last thing on your mind but it was the first thing on his. You whine loudly as he lifts himself up and out of bed, gently removing your arms from around him and grabbing his boxers.

“Corners, sides or centre?”

“Hmmmph… corners…” you mumble, yawning and nuzzling into the sheets. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving to grab what you needed.

He’s back in almost no time but he can tell that you might as well have been fast asleep by that point although your eyes were fluttering.

“Sweetheart, you need to eat!” you hum in vague agreement although he has to help you sit up as you were still recovering from your previous antics. 

Both of you are blown away by the first bite. There was the ‘brownie paper’ that he loved so much and the gooey, fudge texture… perfection.

“You were so right about the coffee!” he leans his head on yours and you hum in agreement.

“Recipe never fails!” you shrug and he smiles.

“Thank you for letting me help” he wraps his arms around you to hug your side and you revel in the feeling of his skin against yours, the warmth radiating off his body.

“It was a pleasure, glad I could put those guns to use!” you joke and he laughs.

“Seriously though, I’m sorry I doubted you…” you had to feel a little guilty. You seriously were ready to shut down a chance at spending some time with the love of your life. At a chance to share something you really loved with him.

“Ah it’s nothing, I proved you wrong!” he pokes your arm and you nuzzle further into his warm hold.

He senses that you’re once again on the verge of falling asleep and with your stomachs full, he has no reason to wake you again. So he carefully manoeuvres you so that you’re laying on your side with him behind you, arms around your middle and his face in against your neck.  

“Good night, angel…” he yawns, smiling when he receives no response other than your hand barely squeezing his wrist and your attempts to back up even closer to him.

Soon enough, he’s fallen into a similar deep sleep, blissful with you in his arms.

Not exactly what the request was referring to but i just thought that it would be so on character for Nayef to bring up the idea in the first place. I hope u guys enjoy <3

[archivistofnerddom]

Bad Batch Headcanons — Soft Romance and Some Dating Stuff

I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. SFW and safe for all ages. Anyway, here you go:

Hunter

This man is the master of braiding hair. (Have you seen his hair? Of course he is.) Hunter is tactile person, a byproduct of his heightened senses. Braiding your hair (for events, before bed, or whenever) is a quiet thing between you and a little ritual.

Cuddles on a porch swing together in summer time (listening to the cicadas in the trees and watching the sun set) as you unwind from the day.

Enjoying a thunderstorm rolling through while counting the seconds between lightening flash and thunder clap to guess the distance. It’s always a game to see if you can guess the closer distance by counting the seconds versus Hunter using his advanced senses.

Dates at ice cream parlors and cafes are always entertaining. Hunter has opinions on the flavor combinations. (It’s adorable.)

Crosshair

Quietly sitting together in front of the fire in the evening. Maybe you talk, maybe you don’t. Just being together without any pressures is nice. If you wind up slowly snuggling together under a big soft blanket, he doesn’t mind. Crosshair likes having someone around who doesn’t have insane expectations of him.

Charcuterie boards and bottles of wine while you read together or listen to music. Snarking about and commentating on the other’s genre choices inevitably happens. (His humor is dry and very specific.)

Paintball target practice (some punk kids at the local range as “voluntary” targets are optional). You don’t need to be as good as he is with the paintball gun. Just record him gleefully (and mostly playfully) merc-ing his targets and laughing at the reactions.

Concerts and movies in the park are go-to date options. He likes not worrying about high pressure situations. Plus, you both get to people-watch while you’re at it.

Tech

Documentary marathons, book festivals, and museum tours are regular date events. Tech has a pathological need to learn things. He also takes into consideration things you might enjoy as well when planning these outings. (It’s sweet of him, really.)

Hanging out in the driveway while he works on your cars. Making sure your car is running at optimal levels is one of his love languages. You’re there to remind him to eat and/or take a water break on occasion, provide shade, and pass him tools as needed. He likes it when you put together an interesting music or podcast playlist for background noise.

Swing dance classes — a surprise, I know. He knows that dancing is a traditional romantic thing, so he leans into taking classes as a way to romance you. Somehow, swing and its numerous stylistic sub-groupings are right up both your alley. Turns out Tech has a decent sense of rhythm and enjoys using dance and movement as a way of silent communication with you.

Crafting is a team project now. Tech is good at planning the layouts for quilts apparently. He also agrees with you that knitting and crocheting is very meditative and relaxing.

Wrecker

When you bring up cooking and baking together, he is on board. Food and sharing it is one of his big love languages. Wrecker loves being in the kitchen with you, either as your sous chef, cookie decorator, or test taster. Eventually, he starts finding more recipes that you can try together. Building out a binder of recipes you like is a testament of your relationship.

Perfect date night — big picnic spread in an open field at dusk followed by sparklers and fireworks. He loves food and things that go boom. Combining them together makes Wrecker so happy. (That fact that you put them together in one date — that’s the best and biggest declaration of love anyone has anyone has ever given him.)

Hanging on the couch in comfy clothes while playing video games together. Wrecker is the reason the household has a wide selection of thematic oversized adult onesies. Those always get broken out during Mario Kart tournaments or when playing Pokémon or Legend of Zelda together.

Wrecker is a Dungeons and Dragons nerd and a surprisingly good DM. Acting out a story is right up his alley. He gets so happy when you want to learn about the game and join his group.

Echo

Projecting movies into a sheet in the backyard while chilling on cushions and blankets and eating popcorn — simple and low pressure. Sometimes, Echo needs that when his prosthetics are acting up. (He also likes that you always wind up curled up next to him on these nights. It feels nice, no matter whether or not he has his prosthetic limbs on.)

He’s a great pub crawl buddy. Seriously, Echo somehow knows people who work in every bar you walk into, and that is an impressive thing. You get free drinks and fun cocktails wherever you go.

Sunday mornings are for farmers markets. Walking through the stalls, buying fresh bread and produce, and buying assorted other wares is fun. Echo finds your enthusiasm endearing and engaging. (Guess who invested in one of those two-wheeled carts for your haul? This guy.)

Road trips to thermal hot spring baths and a nice little B&B are the go-to romantic weekend trips. Soaking in a hot spring bath does wonders for Echo, especially when he gets to have a hearty dinner with you afterwards.