#i baked something the other day and it was a disaster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blooming-violets · 5 months

Note

private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?

[location based smut prompts]

The To-Do List

[tasm peter x fem!reader]

(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)

His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven.

She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up.

Peter, of course, had other ideas.

He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms.

“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised.

Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome.

His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent.

She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body.

“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed.

“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.”

Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off.

“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb.

“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff.

Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.

“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.”

She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.”

Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?”

“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?”

“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.”

She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.”

“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal.

She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.”

Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…”

She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”

She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.

“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!”

He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.

“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.”

“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”

He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second.

“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.”

“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.”

“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”

She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone.

Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”

He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips.

She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him.

“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?”

She whimpered.

“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply.

All for her.

It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her.

Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass.

“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”

She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.

“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap.

“Peter, please,” she gasped.

He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.

“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence.

She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”

“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?”

She whined and nodded.

“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”

Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”

He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”

She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him.

That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.”

“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”

He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body.

“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried.

“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?”

“No, baby, never. I could never-”

He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap.

She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over.

Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”

Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path.

He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried.

“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm.

The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands.

She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears.

That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel.

His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready.

“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.”

Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing.

“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

The universe exploded into blinding light.

She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman.

Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine.

Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn.

He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat.

“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”

All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing.

“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”

She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries.

He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.”

He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down.

“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?”

She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased.

His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow.

Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him.

With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down.

He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily.

Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.”

She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.

His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling.

Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…

For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.

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hairmetal666 · 9 months

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Steve who goes on a Bake Off type show after Robin, Dustin, and Max set him up as a contestant. He doesn't want to, doesn't think baking or cooking should be stressful, but he's been wallowing since his knee surgery took him out of work and basketball, since his divorce.

His first day on set, he's totally gobsmacked by the sexy host with all the tattoos and long, curly hair. Just, cannot take his eyes off the guy, blushing and stammering whenever he comes around to do interviews, obviously can't stop starring.

After the first day, where he manages to stay comfortably in the middle of the pack, he calls Robin to complain about what a mess he becomes around this gorgeous dude.

Her response is to cackle and say, "Steve! How do you not know who Eddie Munson is? Oh my god, you're a disaster."

Turns out, Eddie Munson is the lead singer of Dustin's favorite band, Corroded Coffin, and also pretty well-known for his dnd YouTube channel. He's been a host on the show for years, only Steve doesn't really pay attention when the others watch it and didn't know.

Eddie, for his part, is losing his mind. He'd known about the beautiful contestant for this season, former college basketball superstar turned coach, having a hell of a shitty year after dislocating his kneecap in a charity game. Eddie--foolishly, it turns out--thought he wouldn't be as attractive in person. He also expected Steve to be terrible and egotistical, a jock through and through.

So, when Steve Harrington walks into the tent in a short-sleeved polo and obviously ironed jeans and is still drop-dead gorgeous, he's fucking flabbergasted. And then Steve has the audacity to be nice? Kind and thoughtful and running to help other bakers when he still has work to do himself? He also blushes so pretty, high across his nose and cheeks, and god does hewant to be the reason Steve blushes like that.

Eddie is beside himself.

Leading up to the second week, Steve schools himself into being calm around Eddie. He can't afford to lose his cool like that every time the host is around. Except, this week Eddie flirts with him shamelessly. Winks at him, leans into space, calls him "m'lord" with this deeply resonant voice that makes Steve want to drop to his knees. Steve doesn't mean to, not really, but he flirts right back, feeding Eddie tidbits of his bakes and looking for any excuse to touch him.

Steve does well for the first half of episodes. He never wins the technical or star baker, but he's regularly within the top contestants. On episode five, though, something is off. He's distracted, forgetful, doesn't leave enough time for his custard to set in the signature. Eddie asks if he's okay, but Steve shrugs and smiles, says "off my game today."

But then, in the technical, he curdles his buttercream more than once, and his genoise sponge burns. Eddie watches as Steve folds his arms above his head and disappears from view. He doesn't hesitate, he sprints from his interview, falling to his knees in front of the contestant.

"Stevie, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I get migraines," Steve whispers. Trails of wet streak down his cheeks. "I've felt one coming all morning, been trying to stave it off but--"

"Okay, okay," Eddie shakes out his hands. "You can sit out this challenge, yeah? Or take this weekend off. It happens. You'll come back next week--"

"I don't want to stop." More tears fall from his eyes.

"What do you need?"

Steve shakes his head, wry little smile pulling at his lips. "Time to breathe."

Eddie glances up, eyes catching on the camera crew hovering in front of them. He throws both middle fingers up and says, in the most reasonable and even tone, "fuck!" Everyone in the tent looks at him, but he doesn't stop. "Shit!" "Bitch!" Motherfucker!" He goes on and on, saying the filthiest series of things he can think of. The camera crew steps away, another contestant brings Steve a glass of water, and Eddie sits with him.

The other host announces that there are thirty minutes remaining in the challenge.

"Well. That's that, then," Steve says. He stands, patting the naked skin of Eddie's knee where it shows through the rip in his jeans as he goes.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Out of time, no cake, no buttercream."

Eddie hops to his feet. "You're going to let that stop you?"

"Well." Steve laughs. "Can't serve this." He gestures to his discarded bowls of frosting, his burnt cake.

"You have time to make another buttercream."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Sure, but not the cake."

"Cut the burnt off. Cover it in the buttercream. Easy peasy."

"Okay..." Steve stares at his station. "Okay, that could work. It won't be pretty, but--"

Eddie, knowing he's no longer needed, steps away, and Steve gets to work.

Steve tells Robin all about it and, as soon as he gets home from the taping and she's immediately like, "Eddie Munson, huh?"

He shoots her a look. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, him leaping over a table to check on you is surely nothing."

"Robin," he warns.

"What?"

"Eddie would never want a guy like me."

She laughs but quickly grows sober. "Steve. Of course he would. He likes you."

"It's nothing, really." He walks towards the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"

Eddie experiences the same harassment from his band members and their manager.

"You're gonna ask Harrington out, right?" Gareth asks.

"That would be a little bit of a professional conflict of interest," he deadpans. He doesn't look up from his guitar.

A puffed Cheeto smacks him square in the forehead. "Hey!" He shrieks.

"He means once the season is done, Edward," Chrissy says.

He wipes the cheese dust from his forehead. "Not a good enough reason to call me Edward. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he's straight."

Jeff guffaws. "C'mon, dude. No way. He's so into you he might as well have a neon sign."

"He divorced a woman."

"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it," Chrissy says.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I may be considering asking him out. Maybe."

Everyone cheers. More Cheetos hit him in the face.

---

To Steve's great surprise, he makes it to the finals. Not just makes it, he gets a star baker, gets first in the semi-final technical. He's baking in the final and might have a fucking chance.

It's with great surprise, once it's all said and done, that he hears his name announced as the winner. He doesn't have much time to process it, because Eddie is striding towards him. He's not carrying the cake stand trophy or flowers, it's just Eddie.

Eddie who stops in front of him, eyes shining. Eddie who leans in and whispers, "I knew you could do it, baby, I'm so proud of you." Eddie who twines his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss.

The internet explodes as the season airs. Everyone is obsessed with Steve and Eddie. They have fics on ao3, a dedicated tumblr community, edits, playlists, gif sets, a ship name all dedicated to them. The fandom grows after episode 5 airs. Not all the footage makes it, thanks to Eddie, but they still witness him tenderly taking care of Steve and directing the cameras away. Fans start scouring their social medias, looking for any hint of their relationship status; even beg them in comments and DMs to reveal if it was just a showmance.

Eddie and Steve, however, are happy in the quiet little world the carved out for themselves after filming. They aren't ready to reveal anything, even hints, whether or not the show would let them.

Then, the final airs and the kiss is revealed to the world. The ending title cards show a picture of Steve with the rest of the season's bakers and the caption, "Steve threw a party for the other bakers..."

The picture then changes to one of he and Eddie, arms wrapped around each other. This caption says: "...at the home he shares with his boyfriend Eddie."

That night, in bed, Steve says, "I'm really glad Robin and the kids made me go on the show. But do you think it's bad that the thing I'm happiest about, way more than winning, is that I met you?"

Eddie places a slow circle of kisses in the dip of Steve's lower back. "Sweetheart, I'd be disappointed if you said anything else. Now, hush, I have a baking champion to congratulate."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #mutual pining #bake off au #tv host eddie munson #bake off contestant steve harrington #i just finished the latest season and had to make it steddie #mel and sue used to do the thing where they cussed and flipped off the cameras so upset bakers couldn't be filmed

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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Baking with Bill Cipher head canons or prompt please? Only if you want! Have a good night/day!

Baking with bill sounds like a show I’d watch ngl-

Anyway! You’d think that Baking would bore Bill and hope that the little triangle dream demon would leave you alone to do something so boring and human.

Nope! The little shit puts on a frilly little apron (something so evil shouldn’t look so fucking cute) and floats over to you to look over at the cook book you had splayed out across the counter.

You: can I help you?

Bill: I’m baking with you! Seeing as how destroying everything in known existence and torturing people to the brink of insanity and back is wrong according to you humans. Anyway we don’t need this *throws book out the window*

You: I fucking needed that you triangular twat!

Bill: improvisation is a thing babe, consider this your lesson on it.

Needless to say baking with bill is a disaster just waiting to happen because no actual baking gets done because Bill is too entertained by changing everything you held into something weird or disturbing.

Bowl? Nope massive tarantula

Spoon? Nope two headed snake with the most poisonous venom known to man.

The eggs hatch into fire breathing chickens with dragon legs and wings.

The batter becomes a goo like monster who attracts its pray with its sweet smell. Amongst many other things.

To bill it was hilarious but to you it was nothing short of annoying as all you wanted to do was bake chocolate chip cookies as a rewards for dealing with bill and his entirety.

You: are you finished? *you said as you shut the door behind the massive tarantula and locking it after sweeping it out with a broom*

Bill: why the sour-dough face cupcake. Hehe sourdough.

You: can you let me actually bake something without using your powers to interfere!?

Bill: boo sounds boring.

You: you’ll get the first taste.

Bill: deal!

So bill left you to actually do some baking for once but his uncharacteristic silence made you think he was about to do something and you were right, but it wasn’t until after the cookies came out did you realise what he had done the moment bill insists that you taste the cookies first instead.

You: you put maggots or worms or even black bugs in the cookies didn’t you? *unimpressed*

Bill: noooooo. *you raise a brow at him* Okay yes I did. *he kicks the air in defeat* you’re not fun.

Needless to say you start baking when Bill is away so that you can enjoy what you made but sometimes would come home to him in the frilly apron making something you were sure wouldn’t sit right with you after. You hope it wasn’t rat poison or anything like that but you highly doubt it cuz it was Bill you were talking about.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls x you #bill cipher x you #bill cipher imagine #bill cipher imagines #bill cipher x reader #bill cipher head canons #bill cipher headcanons #the book of bill

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hells-wasabii · 6 months

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How would each of the Hell characters(Hotel group, Lucifer, Overlords, Vees) do while cooking entirely on their own? Can be platonic or romantic, whichever you want

A/N: So I know I said 2, but the other one isn’t ready yet I’m still writing it. It’s gonna be pretty big too since it’s that velvette part 2. But I had to get my cat spayed today so I’ve been super busy all day keeping her out of trouble and from hurting herself :/ but anywho, enjoy!

Characters: All that I write for

Type: Hesdcanons (hazbin cast cooking headcanons)

Charlie

With Charlie, I’m a little torn. On the one hand, she’s a princess, so cooking would likely be more of a novelty considering she likely had staff to do it for her. But this is Charlie we’re talking about. She would go out of her way to learn how to cook. Wouldn’t give up either, not until she could do it on her own. I would imagine that she started learning from Vaggie and reading cookbooks.

Vaggie

When it comes to Vaggie, she can cook some, but she’s definitely super humble about it, brushing off any compliments because it’s ‘just food’. If the issue is pressed I can see her getting a little embarrassed about it. It’s mostly dishes that she had been taught while she was growing up, along with basic dishes that don’t necessarily require a honed skill to make.

Angel

Angel can cook, though he doesn’t exactly put much effort into it. I can definitely see him just throwing something together so he can eat and move on with whatever else he has going. Baking is a different story. I can really imagine while he was growing up he would sneak his way into the kitchen while his mother and Molly were baking. He picked it up pretty easily. And as someone who enjoys baking let me just say that his extra set of arms would be so helpful.

Husk

Husk was an entertainer in life, growing up in a casino, learning the trades in the house. That also includes the kitchens. Sure he likely didn’t spend a whole lot of time there but he still picked up a thing or two. So he’d be able to hold his own fairly well when it comes to making a homecooked meal.

Alastor

While it’s canon that the radio demon can cook, I feel like he specifically likes to cook recipes his mother left behind. Cooking recipes from his youth reminds him of joining his mother in the kitchen whipping something up for lunch and helping her prep for dinner. He’s not all that adventurous in the kitchen, though. He likes to stick with what he knows and what he grew up with.

Niffty

Having died in the 50s as a young housewife, I genuinely believe that she at least knows some fad recipes, like those salads and casserole recipes. Jello molds too. But that’s not to say that she wouldn’t know some basic stuff. I can definitely see Niffty being the type to try to create whole new recipes with varying, mostly horrifying results.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious is a genius, there’s no doubt about that, but the man can’t cook. At all. He’d burn water honestly. But baking? Oh yeah, he can bake with out a doubt(but not necessarily the decorating part), it’s basically science, but not cook. He’d quite honestly have the Egg Bois help, but let’s be honest here, that’d be a disaster too.

Cherri Bomb

I’ll admit, I wasn’t to sure about Cherri. She just doesn’t seem like the type to cook. Nah. Cherri is the queen of takeout. She can boil water but that’s really about it. Honestly, she’s only really a couple of steps above Sir Pentious, but she can’t bake either. Sometimes though, before Angel went off to the hotel, she would go out and buy ingredients and stuff and go to his apartment and they (he) would make something.

Vox

This man absolutely can cook, and he’s pretty damn good at it too. Considering he’s the television demon, he’s going to have several cooking shows. Hell, he even stars in a couple of them. That being said, he’s not one to do things half-assed. Sure, a lot of cooking shows have stuff that was prepared beforehand, but with Vox’s he goes out of his way to actually make the dishes in real time.

Valentino

I stand by my headcanons from my Valentino posts. He can cook, but it’s honestly a solid 50-50 on whether or not it’s burnt or edible. He’s pretty easily distracted, whether it’s a phone call or something else entirely, so if it's a dish that you have to pay close attention to, it’s likely to not turn out right.

Velvette

Velvette can do some light cooking, but nothing too extravagant. She’s got more important things to do, such as keeping Vox and Valentino on track. With a schedule as busy as hers, I don’t think she would cook often, preferring either Vox’s cooking or takeout. Oh but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t take a picture and post it, because it’s Velvette, of course she does. Oh! But She’s probably been on Vox’s show as some sort of celeb guest type deal, the dish they made definitely stuck with her, so she might make it from time to time.

Zestial

Considering how long Zestial has been around, I would be more surprised if he couldn’t cook. You can’t convince me that after a while he at one point went through hobbies like a revolving door. Cooking absolutely would have been one of them. This man would absolutely try making the craziest things. He’d be up to date on all of the cooking fads, know recipes and cooking methods from several time periods and cultures. With him, there’s no telling what he might cook up next.

Carmilla

While I don’t think that she would really set aside time to cook often, she’s pretty skilled in the kitchen. Carmilla would likely have a couple of nights out of the month set aside to cook a meal with/for her and the girls, a tradition that carried on from their life before hell. She’d even take the opportunity to try new things while cooking.

Rosie

Oh, Rosie can absolutely cook, it’s canon that its a hobby of hers. She’s very well versed in a multitude of cooking methods, and while she may not entirely like a whole lot of new-age gadgets in the kitchen, she can’t really deny the fact that they can be quite useful. I’m willing to bet that she would have an Instapot (they’re great I have two and one of them has an air fryer attachment)

Adam

Adam would never openly admit it, but he knows how to cook. He was the first man, he would have had to learn eventually, even if it was something as simple as preparing meats. That being said, he can grill. I’d be willing to bet that he’d host a little barbeque after the annual exterminations for the exorcists, maybe even enter into grilling competitions.

Lute

Lute’s honestly a bit of a wildcard when it comes to cooking. She might have been able to cook while she had been alive, but nowadays not so much. It had been a long time since she actively made anything, so she’d be pretty rusty. But other than the basics, I don’t really see her being able to be too creative in terms of cooking either. She’d honestly probably stick to what she knows and wouldn’t stray too far away from that.

Emily

I don’t necessarily think that seraphim would really need to eat, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t or don’t. In Emily’s case, I would imagine it as a scenario where she wanted to do something to get closer to humanity. They were her charge after all, or rather their state of happiness. But all humans eat and many find joy in doing so and even in the act of cooking, so she absolutely would be thrilled to learn! She’s getting better at it by the day.

Sera

Sera had likely done the same as Emily when she was a young angel, though I don’t see her sticking with it. I definitely think that she taught Emily to start her on her little culinary journey. She can cook, she just… doesn’t. I’d even go as far as to say it’s been centuries since she’s actually cooked a meal of any kind. That being said, if she were to jump into the kitchen nowadays, she probably wouldn’t have a very easy time finding her way around.

Lucifer

Lucifer is a man of many talents. He can absolutely cook, possibly even Michelin level, he just chooses not to. He likely just considers it a novelty of sorts, considering he has the power to simply poof food right in front of him. Honestly, it’s pretty helpful whenever he’s depressed and doesn’t feel like making anything. But, when it comes to his family and friends, he’s more than happy to whip something up.

Lilith

Another one who would likely consider cooking to be a novelty. Considering how she’s the second most powerful being in hell, and fiercely independent with more important things to worry about. Lilith wouldn’t concern herself with cooking unless it was with her family, and even then it likely didn’t happen that often after Charlie grew up.

Bonus:

Alastor Cat

Would wind up burning what ever building its in down. Was it intentional? Was it an accident? The world may never know

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seungbinbin · 1 year

Text

meet ugly - hyung line ver.

not every couple has a fairytale start !!

a/n: first headcanons ! idk if i like this format but i thought i could try <3 lmk what u think ! i was also sleep deprived and delirious writing this but i think it’s a little funny heh

warnings: curse words, very ridiculous writing, mentions of food, gn reader ! (lmk if i missed anything!!)

bang chan

you found out there was a new neighbor on your floor

and you were just so excited to make a new friend

plus you heard the lady from the leasing office saying he was really cute 🫣

so you decided to be nice and bake him some muffins for breakfast <33333

what you didn’t know was that your neighbor stayed up until 4am producing a new song

so when you knocked on his door at 8am, bright and early, interrupting his much needed sleep…yeah, he wasn’t very happy

“what do you want? 😒”

oh 😟

you just hand him the muffins, mumble a quick sorry and RUN

he only realizes how rude he was after he wakes up a second time, hours later, seeing the HOMEMADE muffins sitting on his counter with a little note

“welcome neighbor !!!! :)))”

oh my fucking god 😭 he just HAS to apologize

when he finds you (literally knocks on every door on your floor) he says he’s so very sorry and he’s speaking so fast it makes you giggle

“it’s okay, breathe!”

and he decides right then and there that he’ll make it up to you by taking you out for coffee 😋

lee know

studying at a coffee shop was the best thing ever for you

it made it easier to concentrate on your work, it smelled delicious, and the baristas knew you so they always gave you a little cake pop for free <3

you had been hard at work for hours :( poor baby, midterm season is ROUGH

deciding to take a break to rest your eyes from looking at your screen, and your hands from writing, you took a look around and spotted the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your entire life: lee minho !

his hands were full and he looked very annoyed and you thought "woah that's so much coffee!"

what you didn't know is that he had lost the rock, paper, scissors game for coffee duty <///3

and now he was a little (very) irritated carrying 8 cups of coffee

trying to balance 8 large iced americanos was kind of hard, especially in a crowded coffee shop in the middle of lunch rush

but he had everything under control !

until someone bumped into him while he walked past your table

suddenly there was coffee everywhere; on his shirt, on his face and hair, on your face and hair...and all over your table

thankfully, you had managed to pull your laptop away from the disaster before any coffee got on it

however...your review was all wet and messed up

your 6 page, hand-written review you had been working on for the past 4 hours

"holy shit, i'm so sorry-"

and then you were crying 🧍🏻‍♀️ he didn't know what to do

when you explained everything, he offered to rewrite the review for you 🥹

he took the soggy papers with him, then asked for your number (just to ask what he should write and give you the review, totally not because you were the cutest ever! )

changbin

changbin was having an off-day at the gym

he had been trying to beat his last pr but something felt…off

maybe he pulled a muscle while practicing choreography, or his new pre-workout never kicked in

whatever it was, his mind-muscle connection was off and it was beginning to frustrate him

he was so stiff and crampy and ready to go home after his barely-successful arm day >:(

he was angrily typing on his phone with one hand, complaining about his day to chan and holding a 40 pound dumbbell on the other

definitely not watching where he was going !

he walked right into a bench and hit his shin very hard ! ouchie !

which made him lose his grip on the dumbbell and he dropped it

…right on your foot 🥴

“OW, FUCK!”

“oh NO, ARE YOU HURT!?”

“OF COURSE I AM, YOU ASSHOLE, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”

please don’t yell at him he didn’t mean to ! he tears up when he sees you start to cry in pain :(

so he apologizes (and keeps doing so as he carries you to his car so he can drive you to the hospital)

when you told him your roommates were out of town and you weren’t from the area, he offered to stay with you :(

and also offered to pay for any medical expenses

oh he just felt so bad 😞

but it’s okay! the doctor said it was a minor fracture that should heal up in no time !

and like…changbin made you laugh the entire time and he’s so kind and nice and pretty and buff…

perhaps you could forgive him for shattering your big toe! but just this once !

hyunjin

you just wanted a nice, peaceful day at the park

the weather was perfect for a picnic and a book and you just had to take the opportunity

a lot of other people had the same idea to visit the local park

hyunjin included! he wanted kkami to get some fresh air and to stretch his legs from being holed up in his art studio all day

everything was going perfectly fine

and then kkami managed to get out of his leash

chaos ensued; everyone could hear his dramatic ass screaming and chasing his little dog 😭

surprise! kkami ended up at your picnic bc he wanted to eat your snacks

“hello, sweet boy!”

he was so friendly, everything was going so well! you even offered him a strawberry

and then he peed on your book

and bit your finger 🧍🏻‍♀️

hyunjin gets there 30 seconds too late and now he has to apologize for kkami and his chihuahua-ness

“oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry, i don’t know why he would do that! are you okay!?”

yes you are…there’s a beautiful man right in front of you holding your hand and checking on you ‼️

there’s still dog pee on your book tho

“there’s a bookstore near by, can i buy you another copy?”

so cute <3 thank u kkami

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cvlutos · 2 years

Text

“No Nut November” Pt.3

| Repost: 01.09.23 | 1.4K | Mature |

NRC 3rd Years X GN!Reader

Earl’s Notes: A special thanks, to those who have reposted and shared as such with me<3

♡ TREY CLOVER ♡

LOSER #ONE

Let me preface all this with those who lost, lost most definitely on purpose, except for Cater and Idia. Trey’s losing. That’s his first thought when Ace and Deuce ramble about it to him and knows he’ll lose if you’re anywhere near him. If you just don’t ever acknowledge his existence, he’s automatically winning. But you don’t, 'cause he’s got baked goods that you like and they're free. Ain’t no way you're avoiding him. Trey also doesn’t take NNN super seriously, so it’s okay if he loses. I also have this slight thing that Trey already loves when people eat his deserts, but with you, it turns him alil on, not in a creepy way, but ya know. He’s turning the other way if you get any sorta food stuck on your lips, or face.

Ngl, he probably daydreamed about this exact scenario, as much as he hates to admit. He just learned a new recipe for your favorite dessert, deciding to add a Lil whipped cream. He was so proud of himself, as he texted you about it, and you, being a loyal friend without hesitation, pull up. You and whip cream, we know what this leads to. You, silly Lil, you end up with whipped cream on your face. Trey, without skipping a beat, imagines it as his cu—he has to excuse himself. Moving to his room to jack one-off. He’s extremely guilty after.

“I’m glad you like the dessert. I made it with you in mind.”

♡ CATER DIAMOND ♡

LOSER #TWO

Stood not a chance. Wasn’t even gonna try. He’s such a horn dog. It’s almost embarrassing at this point. 90% of the time, you're responsible for his third boner of the day. Because Cater is such a social phone person, he has multiple pictures and most definitely trades with Ruggie. He just has the most innocent to the most scandalous (as in you sleeping at Heartslabyul, don’t be weird) Like he has access to you, or your pictures 24/7, a recipe for disaster.

So, as always, it’s a nightly ritual at this point. Laying on his back, his roommates are far into dreamland. It’s late as his eyes gradually run along the phone screen, slowly pumping his dick. Your name is a silent cry on his lips. He’s shamelessly losing and doesn’t give a damn.

“[Nickname]! You are simply the cutest, letting me take a pic!”

♡ LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ♡

LOSER #THREE

Not only is it a chore to participate, but also a chore to actually do the deed. As well as Ruggie sending photo after photo of you, being you. Which has the lion beastman slightly interested, but far too damn lazy. Leona is lasting till the end of the month, simply because he doesn’t get horny, like could go weeks without masturbation. So it really is a ‘if he feels like it’ situation. Like if he needs to cum, he’s going to. Not some imaginary competition is stopping him. Though Leona attempts the competition for about 5 minutes before he’s bored with it.

He definitely forgets for the later weeks of November, till one compromising moment. Not even something inherently sexual, you had massages his ears, something that only lovers would do. Most definitely tried to ignore the boner that tightened his boxers as he tried to sleep, tossing in turning. He finally settles with a growl, nearly shoving his hands into his underwear. (Though I’m personally a firm believer Leona would never wear clothes to bed, you and Ruggie probably begged him to at least wear underwear so that when you had to wake the lion prince, he didn’t whack you in the face with that horse of his. Ruggie’s actually been slapped, which is hilarious)

“Leave me be, Herbivore. I’m not doing something so dumb.”

♡ VIL SCHOENHEIT ♡

WINNER #ONE

Short and sweet, if he’s going to cum to you, it’s going to be within your presence. He’s not going to fantasize about you, he’s going to have you. So he’ll wait till he has you. Period.

“I have no desire, Spudling. Why is it you care? Do you desire to bed me?”

♡ ROOK HUNT ♡

LOSER #FOUR

We saw how he is with Neige and this man damn near nearly cums with anything he sees as beautiful. Like he’s weird. Rook Hunt is mad weird. Though I love him for it. #RookHuntforPresident. Similarly to Cater, he has photos of you, physical and digital, and honest access to you at any point, though he’d never masturbate to you in a tree outside of ramshackle, he has thought about it. He honestly is similar to Vil. He wants to be able to fully experience you and revel in the moment with you, but he ends up thinking about it far too much which leads him being hot and bothered.

So that’s why he loses and isn’t that so beautiful, that he can put competition aside for love and beauty. His breath comes out as short huffs, legs unusually shaking, his hat discarded to the side. His face flush and eyes that seemed to glow, a low moan of your name, cum sputtering from his dick head.

“Mon très cher Trickster, permettez-moi de prendre soin de vous de toutes les manières!”

♡ IDIA SHROUD ♡

INDEFINITE LOSER

Idia is a hentai-watching, cum-drinking slut for you. Like I don’t make the rules. He hypes himself up for NNN, bragging, chatting, confident with all his lil e-friends, til the actual day NNN begins. His goal was to simply ignore you, like as if you didn’t exist, like you wouldn’t just show up uninvited. How hadn't he included that in his calculations? Most definitely has a school uniform kink, like have you met this man? You could be dressed for a day at the church and he’s cumming at the thought of you sucking him off while the choir sings of the lord. He’s shameless.

His hair wildly burning pink, voice stuttering as his tongue runs across his lips, trying to stop himself from drooling and cumming as he fucked his hand, leaning back in his gaming chair. Your voice is just so nice. His eyes roll into the back of his skull, a shuddered breath as he realizes he’s close. He damn near breaking his phone to hang up as he cums, painting his computer screen. Leaving you on the other line, completely confused.

“I-I-I wasn’t avoiding you! Just—Just working…. Yes! This game counts as work! Get Out!”

♡ MALLEUS DRACONIA ♡

WINNER #TWO

Now, why would you tell this man about NNN? Cause he’s genuinely distraught. Like should he win in your honor, or should he simply indulge in his desires to bed you? Literally asking Lilia, the worst person to ask, cause Lilia is having a field day. Best day of Lilia’s life. He’s telling Malleus to simply have fun and try. It’s better that way if you wait. The problem is Malleus doesn’t want to wait. Spoiled royal rich boy. I swear. Why must he suffer in simply doing what he pleases with his soon-to-be darling? Half of Diasomnia recognizes you as Malleus’ spouse, which is a little problematic once you actually go to the dorm and half the people are referring to you as if you're royalty. Malleus is absolutely pleased that Diasomnia accepts you, even though you aren’t together yet.

Malleus is the only one on this list who will directly go to you. Without a doubt, just appearing with little fairy lights in your bedroom, a large unhidden bulge. Like who let a horse in the house. Literally scares you out of your skin. Grim, luckily, isn’t home. He’s sorry but swears it’s urgent. Thinks you jacking him off is a loophole to NNN, he’s a darling. So when you send him away, embarrassed as hell, he’s sulking in his bedroom. Refusing to masturbate unless you're there. (Deadass sitting with arms crossed, glaring at the wall with a pout, boner still very prominent. He’s a spoiled, royal rich kid.)

“Then I will simply make them mine. That way I can indulge happily.”

♡ LILIA VANROUGE ♡

LOSER #SIX

Menace. Loses, cause it’s funny. You being scared by him turns him on. Like it’s hot to see your body flinch, and your eyes widen. Loves it. He’s lived so, so long, so the oddest of things turn him on. This is probably a cycle through all of November, him scaring you, but purposely not cumming till the very last day.

Teeth digging into his lower lip, hand slowly teasing, dragging along his cock, imagining it's you. Rolling his head to the side with a hot chuckle. Your name is hot and playful on his tongue. You’re so worth the wait, so worth the pain. Though this isn’t a victimless crime, you feel what he felt one day. (Bout to become a Lilia Supremacist)

“Fufufu~ [Name], you teasing little thing~”

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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months

Text

A different story┃RAB

Summary: where regulus and james’ sister raise harry together

Regulus Black and Y/N Potter had survived the war. The years since Voldemort's defeat had been filled with joy and sadness. Joy, because they had each other and the opportunity to build a new life together despite what everyone thought about them. Grief over the loss of James and Lily, Sirius' imprisonment in Azkaban, Peter's death and Remus' disappearance, leaving Harry in their care. They had promised to raise him as their own, determined to give him the love and family he deserved.

From the moment Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place, the once dark Black manor was transformed into a warm home. Regulus, no longer the young man who had once followed Voldemort’s ideas, had found a new path in his new role as a father. Y/N, with her strong and characteristic Potter kindness, made sure to brought light to every corner of her new life.

Harry's childhood with Regulus and Y/N was full of moments of love that he would remember throughout his life.

On Harry's first birthday after coming to live with them, Y/N and Regulus were determined to make it special. They decided to bake a cake without magic. The kitchen quickly became a disaster, flour covering every surface and Y/N with frosting in her hair.

"Reg, are you sure you read the recipe correctly?" Y/N asked, laughing as she tried to save a crooked layer of cake.

Regulus, with chocolate on his cheek, smiled shyly. "I'm pretty sure it said four cups of flour. Or maybe it was one…"

Despite the chaos, the cake turned out perfectly imperfect. When they show it to Harry, his eyes lit up with joy. "Happy birthday, Harry," Y/N said, kissing the top of her head.

"Happy Birthday, kid," Regulus added

When Harry received his Hogwarts letter, the house was filled with joy and a touch of bittersweet nostalgia. Regulus sat Harry down, with the letter spread out on the kitchen table. "This is where your parents went, Harry," he said softly, his eyes shining with pride and a hint of sadness.

Y/N, who was busy in the kitchen, stopped to ruffle Harry's hair. "You'll love it there, bunny. Just like your mom and dad did and so does Reggie and I."

The day he was dropped off at platform 9¾, Regulus and Y/N stood side by side, watching Harry board the train. Y/N had tears in her eyes and Regulus, although he tried to be calm, couldn't hide his emotion from him. "Be good, Harry," Regulus shouted. "And remember, we're only an owl away."

As the train pulled away, Y/N squeezed Regulus's hand. "Our little boy is growing up so fast," she whispered.

Years passed and Harry often found himself receiving Howlers from his aunt and uncle. Whether he was fighting with a troll or sneaking out of his common room after bed time, Harry's adventures with Hermione and Ron often left Regulus and Y/N worried.

One morning in the Great Hall, a Howler exploded in front of Harry, Regulus' voice echoing throughout the room. "Harry James Potter-Black! What were you thinking? The Triwizard Tournament? And a dragon? Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you have any common sense!" while hours later he received another one but this time from Y/N ''Harry, forgive Reg, he is very stressed and worried about you, we both are, we want you to know that we support you in everything and we know that you didn’t put your name on the cup, we will be there to see you at the tasks, in the meantime take care of yourself darling, we love you'' leaving Harry with a smile on his face.

As Harry grew older, he began to talk more about his friends and the special people in his life. One afternoon in the summer after their fifth year, Harry and Y/N were sitting in the garden, enjoying the warm sunlight. Harry hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear," Y/N replied, looking up from her book.

"It's about Ginny," Harry began, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "I think… I think I like her. A lot."

"Ah, young love, so beautiful" he said with a soft smile. "She's a lovely girl, Harry. Be yourself and everything will fall into place with her, after all traditions are never broken."

''tradition?'' Harry asked

“Yeah, some people called it a curse but that sounded awful”

“Potter curse?”

''Every male Potter has his redhead,'' Y/N recited with a closed smile

Later that evening, Regulus joined the conversation. "So, Ginny Weasley, huh?" he teased, nudging Harry with his elbow. "Just remember to treat her right buddy, or you'll have more than just her brothers to answer to."

Harry laughed, feeling a warmth spread through him with his cheeks burning red

Oh I loved how this turned out, I have so many ideas about this I hope u like it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

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strangererotica · 6 months

Text

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

husband!Steve Harrington x housewife!reader

| When you fumble the home-cooked meal you attempted to bake for Steve, he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, the meal he really wanted was already waiting at home for him, all along… |

| And yes, I know the pic is from Marmalade and not Stranger Things, but it’s how Steve looked in my brain when I wrote this, so bite me 😊 |

The rain coming down over Hawkins was relentless. Heavy gray clouds obscured any chance of sunlight breaking through and warming the chilly April evening. A blanket of fog crept along the streets of downtown, slipping between houses and through windows left partially open.

One of those windows belonged to the house you shared with Steve. The chicken casserole you’d attempted to bake had ended in disaster, having literally ‘gone up in smoke.’ You wanted to surprise Steve with a home-cooked meal when he got home from work, because you felt a little guilty always ordering take out. You wanted to take care of Steve, to be the wife you knew he ‘deserved.’ Naturally, Steve already thought you were perfect just as you were, and told you as much, frequently. Still, doubt nagged at the back of your brain, and you wanted to make sure that Steve understood how proud you were to be his, that you wanted to be his perfect little housewife…

In spite of the chilly air that evening, you were forced to open the kitchen window. The rain smelled so sweet in contrast with the acrid scent of smoke filling the kitchen. The sound of Steve’s car pulling into the driveway caught your attention. You made your way to the front door, waving a dish towel as you walked, fanning away the last of the smoke. Steve’s keys made a jingling sound in the door; your heart skipped knowing he was right on the other side of it…

As soon as you saw Steve’s face, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when he noticed the smell of smoke in the house. “Did you uh-.” Steve chose his next words carefully. “-Light a candle, baby?”

You bit your bottom lip, an apologetic look on your face. “I wish that was the reason it smells so bad in here,” you replied. “But actually, I-.” You sighed. “I tried to make dinner, for a change. And it kind of exploded in the oven…”

Steve nodded, glancing behind you at the kitchen. He silently observed the aftermath of your work. Every utensil and baking dish you owned had seemingly been taken from the cabinets, considered, and then rejected to the counter. “It’s okay, baby,” Steve assured you, putting his arms around you. “We can order take out; it’s not a problem.”

You tried to let your anxieties fade, melting into the familiar comfort of Steve’s embrace. Holding your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, soothed by its steady rhythm, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“What sounds good?” Steve asked, placing a kiss in your hair. “Anything you want, and-.”

“I’m actually not really hungry anymore,” you said, your eyes cast downward. “I kind of lost my appetite, with all the smoke.” You chuckled a little, in spite of your disappointment. The bitter smell of smoke and burnt casserole still lingered in the air, but only a little. Not enough that it distracted Steve from how pretty you looked, your forehead lightly dotted with sweat, your hair disheveled and some stains on your pajama shirt from the mess you’d made while baking.

Steve’s eyes swept over you, a combined feeling of love and lust washing over him. That combination of feelings was exactly the reason Steve had fallen so hard for you, why he’d loved you more every day since, and why he’d eventually asked you to marry him.

He knew you were frustrated about the dinner mishap. Steve was a very intuitive husband, and always seemed to know what you needed even before you did yourself.

“Just order something for you this time, okay?” You gave Steve a quick kiss on the end of his nose.

“Well actually,” he replied. “There is something that I’ve really been craving.” He smiled. “Been thinking about it all day, actually…”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Okay,” you giggled. “Well then you absolutely need to eat it.”

Steve nodded, his tongue sweeping lightly over his lips. “Oh, I’m going to eat it,” he replied, his tone a shade darker. “But I don’t have to order out for it. What I want is already here.” A corner of Steve’s mouth curved upward in a suggestive grin. “At home...”

Oblivious to Steve’s meaning, you peered behind him at the burnt abomination casserole sitting on the kitchen counter. “Well I hope it’s not chicken casserole you’re craving,” you replied. “Because that thing I made is definitely not fit for human cons-.”

Steve cut your sentence short by tugging you closer, so your faces were less than an inch from one another. He softly pressed his lips to yours in a closed kiss. It was chaste, romantic, sweet; but laced with darker implications that had your pulse racing.

“I want you, baby,” Steve murmured, easing his body against yours. “You’re the sweetest meal a man could ever ask to come home to…”

You felt a little dizzy, and it certainly wasn’t because you’d missed dinner. Everything about Steve made you weak…but the way he could have your pussy dripping using words alone made you fall the hardest…

“Let me eat you,” Steve said tenderly, respectfully, as if he didn’t already have your absolute permission. “Please?”

You swallowed, steadying yourself, suddenly feeling very light on your feet, as if you could be swept away by the slightest breeze. “Mm-hmm,” you replied through closed lips, then spoke out loud “yes. Yes, please, Steve…”

His smile was exchanged for a look of something carnal, and it would probably have seemed predatory in any other context. But once Steve had your permission, he was completely absorbed in his pursuit of having you.

Your ass was on the couch within seconds, Steve kneeling at the floor between your legs. He kissed your knees, your thighs, working upward till he was nibbling at the waistband of your pajamas. Steve let his right hand drape lazily against his crotch, occasionally palming his erection through his pants.

His lips pressed soft and warm against your belly. Steve spread a trail of gentle kisses down your stomach, lingering above the waistband of your pajama pants. His pretty hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly before he hooked a fingertip beneath the pajamas, and lightly tugged them down.

You shivered at the feeling of air on your newly-exposed skin, but Steve’s tongue warmed you up immediately. He licked soft, wispy stripes beside your clit, intentionally neglecting it, letting the pressure at your center build…sucking one of your lips between his, then releasing it with a wet pop. Your fingers went to Steve’s hair, threading his caramel strands. He dipped his nose between your labia, bumping his bridge against your clit, penetrating you gently with his tongue. Your back arched, pressing your cunt forward, burying Steve’s face even deeper between your thighs.

He groaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his mouth stimulating the inside and outside of your cunt, plumping your lips even fuller. The sound of Steve’s tongue pumping inside you squelched beautifully, combined with the delicate, breathy sounds you were making. He nuzzled even deeper between your thighs, the tip of his nose gliding between your pouty lips.

Steve seamlessly replaced his tongue inside you with two of his fingers, making you gasp at the new, firmer penetration. His tongue washed over your clit, bathing your cunt in a mix of his saliva and your cum. You could feel yourself getting close, but what you really wanted was to finish together with Steve inside you. Your hand left his hair for his shoulder, patting to get his attention as you breathlessly told him “Steve, Steve, need you, in-.” And before you could finish your request, Steve had already lifted your ass off the couch, pulling you down to meet the bulge straining at the front of his pants.

He fumbled slightly at getting his belt and pants undone, because he was in such a hurry. You reached for his cock and rubbed the outline of it, feeling it pulse under your touch. As soon as Steve’s dick was in reach of your mouth, you tugged him between your lips. With a hard suck, you took him all the way to the back of your throat in one gulp. Steve’s knees went shaky, his breath punched out of his lungs at the shock of hitting the back of your throat so unexpectedly, so quickly. Your gag reflex activated and you popped off Steve’s cock, a raw trail burning all the way up your throat. You laid back on the couch and spread your legs, eyes trained on Steve’s, a seductive grin turning your lips.

He shook his head, your slick dripping from his chin. “No,” Steve said, reaching for your hair and gently guiding your mouth back onto his cock. “Need more of that tight little throat-can’t suck me like that n’just take it back-.” Steve eased himself down the length of your throat, nudging the back with his tip. A low growl of pleasure rumbled from Steve’s chest, his fingers threading your hair. “God, just like that…keep sucking…FUCK-!”

Steve hurriedly pulled your lips off his cock and pushed your back against the sofa, mounting and entering you as quickly as he could. Your hands clutched Steve’s shoulders, holding on tight as he humped you like a desperate animal, punching his cock so deep inside you that his shaft was rubbing your cervix. When Steve came, he choked back a dry sob, his breath heating the skin at the base of your neck as he panted through his release. Sweat dripped from the ends of Steve’s hair and onto your chest as he carefully lifted himself off of you. He fell back onto the couch beside you, pulling a hand over his disheveled hair, his pants around his muscular thighs. You laid your head on Steve’s shoulder, tilting your face to gaze at him.

He noticed you staring, and smiled. “Now that was a home-cooked meal,” Steve said, attempting to catch his breath. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. You fell asleep on the couch, drifting away while listening to the sound of rain thrumming against the roof, and the muffled rhythm of Steve’s heartbeat…

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deanssluvr · 3 months

Text

thought you were made for me pt. 3

part 1 | part 2

pairing: brothers bsf!Joost Klein x fem!reader

summary: A week has passed since the night you spent together and now you’re going on your first date with him. (this is a continuation of “thought you were made for me” but can be read as standalone)

warnings: fluff and smut. 18+. fingering. oral (fem receiving). p in v.

word count: 3k

a/n: sorry getting this part out so late. I went on vacation and couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do for this part. I honestly fought with myself when deciding if i wanted this to have smut or not. anyways hope y’all like it .

The days leading to your date were agonizingly long. And it was all because of your brother. You and Joost couldn’t get a moment alone with him around. He was always asking Joost to go somewhere or to go do something. As much as it pissed you off, you couldn’t be mad at him. He has no idea what is going on between you both. Every time you two were around him you both pretended as if you couldn’t be bothered with each other. That was the part that hurt. Not being able to hold him or touch him. Though Joost on the other hand loved being risky. Whether it was sneaking touches under the blanket while you watched a movie or sneaking away from your brother just to join you in the shower. He always made sure to be unpredictable and that made you even more attracted to him. You knew that if you got caught, it would be a disaster. But you still couldn't get enough of him.

The day finally came when your date was supposed to happen. Joost hadn’t told you anything, claiming that it was a “secret”. You didn’t dig any deeper than that, anticipating where he was going to take you. He had told you that the date was gonna be casual, so you opted for a more comfortable outfit. You had a few options lying on your bed and were having trouble choosing, so you texted your friends for help. It took 20 minutes just for them to agree on an outfit, but you were grateful for their help, now you were behind on time to do your makeup, so you quickly walked to your bathroom and started on your makeup. You choose to do something minimal due to time. Your brother walked into the bathroom looking as though he just woke up from a nap and grabbed his toothbrush. He looked over at you doing your makeup.

“Where are you going?” You were quick to come up with an excuse.

“Me and some friends are going out.”

“Oh okay. Hope you have fun.” He gave you a small smile before brushing his teeth. You utter a thanks and leave the bathroom once you are finished. You head to your bedroom to finish getting ready. You search through your jewelry box for some accessories. It took you longer than you want to admit to choose. You did end up settling on a necklace and a few rings. Looking in your mirror, you scanned yourself to ensure you were happy with your outfit. You were satisfied and laid back on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Your mind wandered back to the last few days. Maybe it was a stretch, but it was perfect. Sure sneaking around wasn’t always the best, but you enjoyed the thrill. And most importantly you enjoyed the time you were spending with Joost.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a notification on your phone. You sat up and grabbed your phone, looking at the text.

Hey I’m outside

You were quick to text him back.

okay. I’ll be out in a minute

You spray yourself with perfume, the one Joost loves. It was vanilla perfume a friend bought you for your birthday. You don’t wear it often, but when you did in his own words he thought you smelled like a baked good. You quickly look at yourself in the mirror again, and when you deem yourself ready you head downstairs. Stopping by your brother’s room, you said a quick goodbye to your brother before heading out the door. It was pretty dark out since the sunset: nothing but the lampposts outside illuminating the street. In front of your driveway, you saw Joost leaning on his car smoking a cigarette. He watched as you walked up to his car and smiled. He let the cigarette fall from his lips onto the ground and stomped it out. Once you made it to him he embraced you in a tight, heartfelt hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne tinged with a faint hint of cigarette smoke. You both stood there for a long moment, in the dimly lit street, embracing each other. Joost pulled away and looked into your eyes, his voice soft and tender.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You smiled. Those three words made your heart flutter. Joost leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead. He pulled away, a small smile still lingering on his lips. He moved to open the car door for you and closed the door once you were inside. The drive to this mystery location was smooth. You both chatted and laughed along the way. One of his hands was gripping the steering wheel tightly as he navigated the car through the city streets. The other hand rested on your thigh, his thumb gently caressing your skin. There was a comfortable silence between you both. Only the music on the radio could be heard. It sounded like some sort of soft jazz music that he had on semi-low volume. It was about 15 minutes before he turned into the parking lot of the place. You felt a sense of anticipation as he parked the car and shut it off.

“We’re here.” He was grinning and you were now a tad bit more suspicious. You both unbuckled your seatbelts and stepped out of the car. You walked around the car to get a look at the place. Above you can read the bright green neon sign. “Game Galaxy”. It was an arcade that just opened up that you wanted to visit, but could never find the time.

“Suprise!” Joost grabbed your hand and led the way into the arcade. You followed him, your heart pounding. You both stopped in front of the door, Joost opened it and the two of you stepped inside. The neon lights of the arcade flickered overhead as you both stepped inside. A cacophony of sounds greeted you. Arcade machines beeping, music blaring, and the faint hum of air conditioning. At the desk at the front, he buys you both cards to use at the machines and turns to you, a big grin on his face. He handed you the card. You smiled back and thanked him. You both began to browse the machines, deciding which ones to play. Excitement buzzed between you both as you surveyed rows of games. You both decided on a simple game of air hockey first. Which quickly turned into 4 games all of which you won.

“Again.” He was about to swipe his card again.

“What? So you could lose again?” you teased him.

“Oh. You wanna bet?” You both ended up playing a 5th game, in which he lost again, but only by one point this time. He hung his head in shame as he walked over to you.

“So what’s my prize for winning?” You wrap your arms around his neck. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I can give you your prize when we get home.” He pulled back and smirked. Then he looked behind you at the claw machine. It had Hello Kitty stuffed animals inside. He took your hand and led you to the machine.

“I’m gonna win you one.” He was quick to swipe his card, starting the claw.

“You know these things are rigged, right?” He scoffed.

“Maybe, but I’m feeling lucky today.” He began guiding the claw with precise movements. It grasped one of the stuffed animals and lifted it, only to drop it just before reaching the chute.

“Ugh, so close!” you pouted. But he wasn’t a quitter. He played a good 7 seven times, each time getting closer, but losing it near the end.

“Babe, It’s okay to accept defeat. I told you these things are rigged.” You chuckled then realized he wasn’t going to give up. “Here.” You placed a kiss on his cheek before he started to play. “For good luck.” He smiled sweetly before moving the claw. He was concentrating hard as he moved the claw. It picked up one of the stuffed animals. You were preparing for it to drop it again, but it didn’t. It continued to drop it in the chute for you to grab. You were incredibly shocked as Joost picked it up and handed it to you with an excited smile on his face. You were impressed and the two of you laughed and chatted while you played other games. You both wandered around and played games such as Dance Dance Revolution, Skee Ball, Galaga, and various other games, you always came out on top. He blamed it on the fact that he was going easy on you, but it was obvious he was lying.

You both decided to take a break and get some food. Your arms were interlocked with his as you both walked up to the food stand and skimmed the menu for a few minutes. He ordered a pizza for you both to share as well as two sodas. Once your order was finished, you both took a seat at a nearby booth. As you ate you both took the time to catch up with each other. He told you funny stories about his time on tour, and you responded by telling him a few of your college stories. You both hadn't realized how long you’d been talking until you checked your phone. It was getting quite late and you told him this, so you both agreed on one more game before leaving. You both walked around the wide variety of games before settling on a racing game.

“Ready to lose again?” you teased.

“We’ll see about that.” he retorted back, his hands gripping the steering wheel. You both raced through virtual streets, intensely focused. You were doing fairly well in second place and Joost in seventh. But on the final lap, he managed to pass up every car, including yours. His car crossed the finish line first, and he threw his arms up in triumph.

“Congrats on your first win.” It was meant to be a tease but he didn’t care, he simply thanked you with a huge grin on his face. You both laugh as you walk away from the game. As you both walked toward the exit, you spotted a photo booth.

“Wait. One last thing before we go,” you said, dragging Joost inside.

You both squeezed into the booth, making a few funny faces for the camera. An idea popped into your head for the last photo. You gently grabbed his chin and pulled him into a quick kiss. You giggled when you pulled away. The photos were printed out in a strip, capturing their silly expressions. You tore it in half, giving one piece to him.

“A souvenir,” you said, smiling. Joost looked at the strip of photos, then at you, and grinned. He slipped his hand into yours as you both walked out into the parking lot. You both made your way back to the car, hand in hand. Outside, the cool evening air was a stark contrast to the vibrant, chaotic energy of the arcade.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," you said softly, a genuine smile on your face.

"Me too," he replied, his voice equally sincere.

You both walked to Joost’s car, the parking lot illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid in with a grateful smile. He got in on the driver's side and started the engine, the car humming to life. As he drove through the quiet streets, the conversations between you flowed easily. A mix of lighthearted banter and deeper, more meaningful exchanges. The car ride was filled with laughter and moments of comfortable silence, the kind that only happens when two people are truly at ease with each other. You watched the city lights blur past, feeling a contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time. When you both reached your house, he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. He walked you to the door, both of you reluctant to say goodnight.

“So about my prize?” you cocked your head to the side.

“Oh, you want that now?” He smirked and you nodded. You took him by the hand and led him inside. You stopped before going upstairs.

“Shit, I forgot that Ethan’s home.” You were sure he would be asleep at this point,

“As if that’s stopped us before.” You rolled your eyes at him and led him upstairs, quietly, to your room. You were barely through the doorway before he pulled into a heated kiss. You were able to close and lock the door before your hands found their way around his neck. His hands were resting on your hips but quickly latched on the hem of your shirt and then gently pulled it over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. He did the same with your bra as his hands reached up your back, sending goosebumps over your skin. You both never faltered from the kiss and you both became hungrier. His fingers were quick to unclasp your bra and you both pulled away to let it fall to the floor.

He softly pushed you back on the bed. At the edge of the bed, you watched him remove his shirt and unbutton his pants letting them drop to the floor. You stared at him, letting your eyes explore his body. Your glance traveled down following his happy trail to the clear bulge growing in his boxers. When you met his gaze, he was smirking at you causing you to become flustered. He leaned down and crawled between your legs. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants and he pulled them down, tossing them somewhere on the floor. One of his hands began rubbing your clit through your panties. This caused you to squirm and a gasp left your lips. His other hand was on your cheek and he leaned down to capture you in another kiss, this time it was messy as you were pathetically moaning into his lips. His hands dipped into your panties where his fingers continued rubbing your clit before dipping between your folds and inside of you. You brought your hand over your mouth, stifling the loud noises that threatened to leave your lips. His fingers were quick and your wetness was covering his hands. You leaned your head back further into the pillow, giving him more room to kiss and nip at your neck.

He soon stopped and you let your hand fall from your mouth. His hands carefully removed your panties, throwing them to the side. He leaned down and softly kissed your inner thigh, each kiss getting dangerously closer to your pussy. Then he hovered over it. You could feel his warm breath on your clit. You whined a little.

“Baby, please…” You begged. It came out way more desperate than you wanted. He chuckled before lowering his head and ran the tip of his tongue down your slit. His hands moved to wrap under your thighs and around your hips pulling you closer to his face.

“Oh fuck.” You bit your lip and one of your hands found its way into his hair, entangling themselves. You pulled gently as he hummed into your clit, sending vibrations through your body. His hand came up and he started fingering you. This caused you to pull a little harder on his hair. You desperately wanted to cry out his name, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult for you to stay quiet. He added a third finger, curving to press against your sweet spot. The way he’s lapping over your clit has you nearly going over the edge and seeing stars. You started grinding yourself on his tongue as he kept fucking you with his fingers. You were so close and he knew, so he stopped what he was doing. Earning a pathetic whimper from you.

“Don’t worry. I’m about to give you the rest of your ‘prize’ schat (baby).” He breathed as he lowered his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free. His hands gently pulled you closer to him, your legs resting on either side of his waist. He looked down at your wet cunt as he pushed his tip into you. You lean your head further back into the pillow, quiet moans leaving your lips as you try to hold yourself back. As he sinks himself further into you, he leans down and pulls you into another messy kiss. Your tongues fighting to explore each other. Once he was fully inside, he pulled out slightly before slowly thrusting into you. Your hands were digging into his shoulders with each thrust. Then his hand dipped between your legs to rub your clit.

“Fuck, just like that, oh god.” is all you could get out as his hips slammed into yours. You were dangerously close and he could tell. “So close.” was all you could get out. You were scared that anything else would come out in incoherent sentences.

“Look at me schat (baby). I wanna watch you cum all over my cock.” he rasped. These words were enough to bring you over the edge, and you looked at him as you came. Your walls clenched around him and it felt as though electricity had run through you. He watched as your orgasm hit you and the way you said his name as you came brought him over the edge. His hips stutter to a stop as he quickly pulls out and comes on your stomach, a curse spills from his lips. You both stay like that for a moment, panting.

“I’m gonna go get something to clean you up with.” He puts his pants back on and leaves your room. After about 5 minutes he comes back in with a damp cloth and cleans you up. When he’s finished he cups your cheek and kisses you softly. When he pulls away you both look at each other lovingly. Then you gesture for him to lay down with you, which he does gladly. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him.

“Goodnight Joost.” You spoke quietly.

“Goodnight liefde (love).”

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x fem!reader #joost

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zoropookie · 3 months

Text

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter five — tricky plans & schemes (🎂)

"I'm not going to make it out of here alive if I see him."

The simple, yet harrowing sentence repeated constantly in your mind. It held you like an anchor while you were preparing the multiple long tables with sweets you baked last night purely with anxiety running through your body. It was a surprise that you haven't succumbed to a heart attack yet.

It was wide in the air with your freshly baked pastries, a soft mix of vanilla, cinnamon, and chocolate wafting through the air conditioned room. Each of the tables you filled was adorned with lacey and delicate cloths, each sweet arranged with your care. Rows of colorful tiny cakes and intricately designed cookies.

Your hands trembled placing the final touches on the tiny treats, exhaling once it was finally all done. You stepped back to admire your work, but you didn't know what it was about it that made you feel slightly bitter.

Behind your weaker smile, your eyes betrayed you with how much resentment was behind your eyes. Which turned into a small sadness for the fact; you didn't want to do this. It was a blessing that Ei could see how uncomfortable you were being in her wedding as an 'addition to the family', because you definitely weren't par to Kunikuzushi by any means.

Nor did you deserve to be beside anyone other than Kazuha. And even at the thought that something harrowing happened to him, you cracked under pressure to keep your mind from overthinking. That would mean that you'd forget about him entirely. You couldn't be happier about anything, extreme emotions would betray your memories of him.

Or...lack thereof?

Your jaw clenched, tears brimming your eyes which you quickly wiped away. There was nothing behind your eyes except the worry that all of this baking you were doing was for nothing. You didn't feel particularly excited to bake anymore, nor show anyone. It was like the spark that Kazuha gave you was missing, along with him.

A small sound broke through your thoughts, your eyes half-lidded as you slowly turned to see the only person you wish you didn't, following by a few other male voices fading and their tricky plans and schemes. His piercing eyes met yours, and for a moment, his unreadable expression almost made it seem like he was taking a moment to think before he speaks.

But your own expectations failed you once he scoffed, expression hardening. "Fucking hell, you're a disaster." He couldn't help but laugh, but purely from the misery he felt as he turned his back towards you to walk out.

But as soon as he was about to head out again, another visitor came through the door. This time in a stunning white dress, and in a frazzled state according to her expression. It was Yae Miko herself, presence a relief from the harrowing tension.

"Wow. Reunion, or what?" Yae asked, tilting her head, before giving a wave to you. "Hi, darling~"

You hesitantly waved back. "Hi! H..ow are you?"

The pink haired woman examined the room before she said anything else, and even the most braindead person in the world could see that there was nothing here except aversion. You awkwardly shimmied behind the table filled with sweets to keep your distance.

As Kuni was about to reply, Yae held her hand up. "Nope. Don't want to know. This is my day, I'll be back in business in four weeks."

His eyes dulled, patience clearly wearing thin. "You shouldn't even be here."

"Yeah, I shouldn't, right?" Yae crossed her arms over her chest. "But it'd be too much to ask for one peaceful day. Listen," She leaned in, closing the door behind her. "The cake is still at the shop. Our extremely useless deliverer quit before the wedding."

Your eyes perked up. "What?" You blurted out.

"It's my fault for relying on people outside of my own family to pick up a cake. Mind you, the cake isn't even ten minutes away." Yae's eyes rolled. "Typical for this country, full of dimwits. Can you two go get it?"

"Don't really feel like hearing your little political tirades right now. I'll get it, but they're for fucking sure not coming with me." Kuni pointed towards you, which made you flinch. "I'd rather die."

Yae could only sigh dramatically at his incessant whining. "You are both adults now; you can handle a simple task without killing someone."

"Easy for you to say on your wedding day, I don't ever plan on being pleasant to a rat," He snarled. "Fine. But don't expect it to be brought back in one piece with them in the car."

"Sorry. I'll... try my best." You said in a low tone, avoiding eye contact with either of the very confident figure.

Yae looked in between you and Kuni again before lifting her lips up to give a small look of bewilderment. "I guess it's too much to ask for some chivalry from you, Kuzu," She sighed before handing you the details. "Here's the address and a copy of the order. Just tell them I sent you, I'll be getting everything ready still."

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vaxmpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @vxcmx @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu @simonisferal @justpeachyteastea

@liuaneee @skyoverkill1 @mellowberrie @lalalaloveallmydays @mostlymoth

@mtndewbajablasted @vernith @lovekeychains @danhenglovebot @elizshade

@balladeersflower @kazumiku @bananasquash @neversore @yevurin

@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

@feikyuu @tamikahoshiko @kissingkzuha

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character: Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point.

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some.

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day.

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din.

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display.

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.”

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.”

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?”

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.”

She chuckles, “can be.”

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.”

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.”

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.”

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?”

“Well, he’s... called in.”

“Again?” You whine as you face her.

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs.

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?”

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.”

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?”

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking.

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time.

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful.

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best.

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill.

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting.

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte.

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask.

“Who?” She furrows her brow.

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.”

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?”

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?”

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.”

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.”

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.”

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.”

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth.

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.”

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not.

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him.

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him.

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone.

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch.

“How are you today?” You ask.

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.”

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.”

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit.

“Of course, I always do,” you smile.

“And last time?”

“Last time...”

“Twice.”

You’re confused. What is he talking about?

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--”

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely.

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around.

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.”

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #dark!raymond smith #drabble #series #to a tea #sweet and spicy #the gentlemen #au

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yourantag · 6 months

Text

Do NOT Let Him Cook (Morningstar!Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Happy White Day! I'm probably not posting more than this and the other fic I was supposed to post Valentine's Day (which, as you can see, I failed in doing) for March. I will, however, be posting a little more in April cause that is my birthday month! Expect a few indulgent fics. This fic is honestly just crack, so if you need something silly and sweet, here we are! Genuinely, do not let this man cook. Word count: 2.2k words Summary: It's White Day, a day of reciprocated love. Of course, Helel has to give you something in return for your wonderful Valentine's gift. Now, if only he could figure out how he turned a tart into a fruity croissant...

There were very few things Helel feared. The first, of course, was you. He held your heart in his hands as you did too, yes, but no one could get him to obey them quite like you could. It was loyalty, it was devotion, one reciprocated through blood and love. To possess such power over him is somewhat of a marvel, something to fear, even just a little.

The second was your death, the thought of you leaving his side forever. He'd tear apart the world, commit sacrilege in the holiest places, and declare war upon the gods before he'd let someone take you from him. Still, he cannot control plagues, time, or the hostility within the hearts of humans. Life is delicate, even Helel cannot deny that.

The third thing he feared, Helel learned, was baking.

It seems simple enough, really. Chuck a few ingredients in, mix it, then toss it in an oven. Easy, right? Looking around him now, with smoke billowing off the charred tray (and wow, he didn't know metal could burn like that), Helel was completely at a loss.

"Ah, these don't seem quite right." He muttered, scratching his cheek. All Helel wanted was to give you something in return for your Valentine's gift, something special. He had consulted many people, even asking some of the prisoners, as odd as that sounded.

Most didn't give any good responses, only saying "please let me go" or "you're going to pay for this." Terrible advice, really. Not even on topic, either, but it could be worse, he supposed. So, he went to ask his favorite person to bother.

"For the love of- just make them cookies or something!" Nebuchadnezzar had exclaimed, absolutely done with Helel's ramblings. He looked about ready to chew his tongue off so he could finally know peace again. At least death wouldn't ramble about their lover for 15 hours straight.

It had been a decent suggestion, so Helel had taken it. Perhaps he shouldn't have, considering the disaster that was most of his creations.

The counters were covered in flour, the fine powder dusting the area like snow. Splatters of batter, egg, and butter painted some places like abstract art. The worst place of all, funnily enough, was the table. It was completely clean, presenting only a few delectable looking treats.

Sadly, they were not exactly what they were made to be. Somehow, Helel had managed to make bread instead of cake, a croissant instead of a tart, and now small bricks instead of cookies. He carefully tapped one against the counter, wincing as the wood chipped under the force. The cookie, however, was fine.

'I... can't give them this.'

Helel smiled awkwardly, wanting nothing but to slam his face against a wall. He had thought "it couldn't be that hard!" and look at him now. It was pathetic, to the point he genuinely considered just asking a servant to make something instead. However, that's literally something he could do any other day. It didn't carry the significance he'd want it to.

You had given him the head of the rebellion's leader, which most would find horrifying but he found terribly romantic. The best Valentine's gift, truly. Sure, he couldn't give you something of equal value, but he could try and match the sentiment. Helel knew you loved effort and thought, so he would do his best to give you something of that in equal measure.

So, he couldn't give up. Helel once again turned to a different page in the cook book, praying to himself that he didn't fuck up this time. He couldn't possibly mess up sugar cookies, right? They were simple, so surely no matter what they'd be fine.

He was cursing himself wasn't he?

He poured the ingredients, carefully measuring them as he went through the motions. It went smoother this time since he just made cookies (if he could really call them that). With practice under his belt, Helel managed to make a tray of cookies.

"Now I roll them in sugar before baking... where's the sugar?" He looked around, grabbing at the jars in front of him.

"That's flour... that's baking powder... or is it baking soda?... that's powdered milk... wait why do we have powdered milk? Oh!" Helel smiled as he finally found what he was looking for. He didn't know how the chefs managed to get anything done with nothing labeled, but that was the beauty of not being a chef. He didn't have to know, and perhaps he never would.

So, he popped open the glass jar, pouring in the crystalline fragments into a bowl. They glimmered innocently in the light, small gems that melted upon one's tongue.

Helel quickly tossed each cookie ball into the bowl, placing them back onto the tray afterward. Making sure they weren't too close together, he arranged them one last time. Finally, he placed them in the oven. The timer would let him know when they were ready.

The man sighed, moving quickly to wash the dirty dishes. He knew he could leave it to the servants, but at this point, he just wanted to get rid of the evidence of his failures. Sure, most of his baked treats looked... fine, but the first few looked as though it had gone through someone's digestive system already.

After all was said and done, Helel felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. If this was what the chefs dealt with on the daily, he was going to have to give them a raise. All this for some desserts? Really? They deserved to be paid more for this misery.

Checking the timer, he nodded to himself. 10 minutes was enough time to snack on something. Helel let himself drop into a seat, groaning as his weary legs finally got to rest. He grabbed the cake-turned-bread, cutting off a small slice. The cookies were a definite no, and he had his suspicions about the croissant, but the bread seemed fine.

'If I get poisoned from this, they're never going to let me live it down.'

You would absolutely make fun of him. Morningstar, the King of Babel, dying from his own creation. It sounded like a story Shakespeare wrote, really. Helel hoped more for his pride rather than his life that he wasn't that bad at baking.

Taking a few bites, he found that he wasn't dying yet. Which was relieving, of course, but to his surprise, the bread also tasted not bad. Sweeter than most breads, but nothing unbearable. It was probably going to be one of the few things he could actually share with you.

At the chime of the timer, Helel took the cookies out of the oven, letting them cool. That would give him another few minutes to start packing things up. Should he use red ribbon or white? It's a White Day gift, yes, but you told him red reminded you of him.

Humming, the young king started slicing the bread, gently placing the slices in a nice container. Perhaps he should pack some jam in the basket too- it would go well with it.

Helel glanced at the first batch of cookies, opting to dump them in the trash after a brief moment of contemplation. Could they be used as projectiles? Honestly, yes. Was he going to let anyone know he failed that badly? Never.

Finally, he took a bite of one of the croissants. It was fine as well, just odd. The fruit fillings and cream were distributed well throughout the pastry. If it weren't for the fact that it was supposed to be a tart, Helel might have been proud.

Packing those up as well, he placed the 2 containers in a basket, grabbing a few jars of jam and a butter knife. By then, the cookies were sufficiently cooled. Though, after taking another look at them, Helel wondered what he had done wrong this time.

Unlike the first batch, these cookies were puffy. They weren't like cream puffs, but they were certainly not cookies. Had he mixed up which of the powders he was using? He really wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

The other pastries he had packed weren't made to be what they ended up as, but tasted fine anyway. Maybe, these would be the same.

So, shrugging his shoulders, Helel tossed one of the "cookies" in his mouth.

And instantly he regretted it.

It was salty. Not salty in the pleasantly seasoned way, but salty as in if he had drank salt water it would taste better than this.

Spitting out the abomination, Helel glared at one of the jars. Of course he mixed up the sugar and salt, of course. Still, he at least had something other than this. He'd just have to dispose of these.

If you didn't find him.

The door clicks open, and Helel can't decide whether he wants to scream or jump right out the window. In the doorway, as he expects, is you. You're always welcome in his eyes, his wonderful, perfect significant other. However, at this particular moment, he really wishes you weren't here.

"Helel? What are you doing here?"

Though you ask, you already seem to at least know he was baking. Not a very hard assumption to make, all things considered, but that just makes things harder for him.

"I was... baking." He says, giving a strained smile as he slowly grabs the tray of cookies. Hopefully, if he's quick enough, you won't even notice him toss the entire thing in the trash.

'Please do not ask about these, please don't notice-'

"Is that a scone dusted in salt???"

Helel was going to throw himself off a cliff.

"...I was trying to make sugar cookies."

The look you give him simply reaffirms his decision.

"I... see. What's the occasion?" You draw closer to him, staring curiously at the basket. He's thankful he managed to add a blanket on top beforehand, though it would've been nice if he had tied a ribbon around the handle, too.

"It's White Day, so I wanted to give you something special." Helel responded, dropping the tray with a sigh. It was too late to hide it, so why bother?

You hum softly, lips curling into a smile. You grab one of the scones, taking a bite before he can warn you. Yet, instead of spitting it out like he expected, you chewed as though nothing were wrong with it.

"Are- are you okay?" He can't help but ask. He had tried one right before you came- he knew they didn't taste good. So, how was it that you ate the entire scone without even cringing in the slightest?

"Yep, I'm fine. I'm sure you already know, but these are salty." You laugh, quickly grabbing a glass of water and chugging it. Despite the concern he feels, Helel can't help the way his chest warms.

"Well, yeah, I was going to warn you about that. Can't believe you ate it all- I spat it out immediately. Why did you eat it anyway?" He can't help but ask. You weren't one to shy away from being honest. The fact you looked him in the eye and told him it was salty was proof enough. You weren't scared of him, so why would you put yourself through that?

You give him a smile, tilting your head towards the window. The sun is high in the sky, letting all know that it was sometime in the afternoon.

"You've been here for... I'm guessing at least 5 hours. I don't know how you haven't collapsed yet, but that's not the point right now. The point is," You take his hands into yours, kissing each of his knuckles. "I see your effort, and I don't want to let it go to waste."

Helel, for all his cruelty, his hatred, his grief- cannot be anything but in love for you. To love is to be seen, to be known, and it seems that for all his life, that's exactly what you've done. Seen him, known him, but most of all, loved him.

So, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses from your palm down to your wrist. He lingers there, letting you cradle his face as he closes his eyes.

It wasn't perfect by all means, but he thinks that this small moment is worth more than anything he could've ever orchestrated. Helel doesn't need endless praise, gifts, or overwhelming acts. All he needed was a bit of acknowledgement, a bit of love.

"Happy White Day, my sun.”

ALTERNATE STORY:

Helel did not realize he was that bad at baking. He completely blames Nebuchadnezzar for everything.

"HELEL, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE A MONSTER!?"

"HIS NAME IS FREDERICK KREIBURG AND HE'S SORRY TO SAY THAT HE'S FRENCH!"

"WE AREN'T EVEN IN FRANCE! WHAT DID YOU ADD TO THOSE COOKIES? THE CREMATED REMAINS OF YOUR DAD!?"

"...that explains why the sugar was so dusty."

"...Helel Morningstar Babel-"

"Ahaha... ha..."

Yeah, Helel was going to kill his brother if you didn't end up killing him first.

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic

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lila-lou · 5 days

Text

✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 2✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 5393

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The next morning, you woke up early, still feeling the lingering awkwardness of the night before but determined to smooth things over. After a quick shower, you threw on some comfortable clothes and decided to head down the road to a small bakery you’d spotted the day before. The morning was crisp, and the walk helped clear your head. You picked up a few croissants and donuts, figuring it was a simple, easy way to say thank you to Jack for helping with the bookshelf—even if he had been grumpy about it.

On the walk back, you debated how to leave the bag for him without making it awkward. Maybe just set it by his door and knock? That way, you wouldn’t have to face any more of his sarcastic remarks. Yeah, that seemed like a safe plan.

When you reached your building, you quietly made your way up the stairs, the warm bag of baked goods in hand. Standing in front of Jack’s door, you crouched down, just about to place the bag on the floor, when his door suddenly swung open.

You froze, your eyes darting up, and there was Jack, standing in front of you in nothing but sweatpants. His upper half was completely bare, his muscles still slightly glistening as though he’d just woken up, his hair tousled in a way that somehow made him look even more rugged. His annoyed expression only deepened as he saw you crouched there, the bag in hand, clearly surprised by the sudden confrontation.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other. Jack’s eyes flickered down to the bag in your hands, then back up to your face, his brow furrowed. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there in front of him again.

“Seriously?”, he muttered, his voice still thick with sleep. “What are you doing?”.

You stood up quickly, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. “I… I was just, uh…”. You held up the bag awkwardly, your words stumbling. “I got some croissants and donuts, you know, as a thank you. For last night. With the bookshelf”.

Jack raised an eyebrow, still looking unimpressed, but there was a glint of something else behind the annoyance—maybe confusion, or just the fact that he wasn’t expecting to see you standing there first thing in the morning.

He looked from the bag of pastries to your face again, and after a long pause, he finally let out a grunt, running a hand through his messy hair. “You didn’t have to do that”.

“I know”, you said quickly, still holding the bag out toward him. “But I wanted to. Just as a small thank you”.

Jack hesitated for a moment longer before finally reaching out to take the bag from you, his movements slow and deliberate. His fingers brushed against yours for a brief second, and you felt a weird jolt at the unexpected contact. He held the bag like he didn’t quite know what to do with it, as if the gesture was somehow foreign to him.

“Thanks”, he muttered, though his tone was still rough. He shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to this kind of exchange.

You smiled awkwardly, hoping this would break the ice between the two of you. “No problem. I just… didn’t want you to think I was a total disaster”.

Jack looked at you, one corner of his mouth twitching slightly as if he was trying not to smirk. “Too late for that”, he said dryly, though his voice had softened. “But thanks. I’ll eat these”.

You nodded, trying not to laugh at his bluntness. “Glad to hear”.

Jack stared at you for a few moments, his expression shifting as his brows furrowed even more, as if something had just clicked in his head. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, his muscles tensing slightly, and then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Are you even legal age yet?”. His chin pointed lazily in the direction of your apartment door, a skeptical look on his face.

You blinked, completely caught off guard by the question. Seriously? After everything, now he was questioning your age?

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “I’m twenty-two, thank you very much”. You crossed your arms, mimicking his stance, though you were half-exasperated at his remark.

Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting your quick reply, and gave a small grunt. “Huh”, was all he said, as if still sizing you up. He seemed to be trying to reconcile the fact that someone as young as you were living alone, fixing up shelves, and—most importantly—dropping off croissants as a thank you.

You could feel the heat rising in your face again, but this time, it wasn’t embarrassment. His constant skepticism was getting under your skin, but at the same time, there was something about the way he talked, the dry humor mixed with genuine curiosity, that made it hard to be fully annoyed.

“Yeah”, you added, letting a smirk slip onto your face despite yourself. “Legal, independent, and perfectly capable of buying my own donuts".

Jack just stood there for a second, as if processing your sarcasm, and then, to your surprise, he let out a small chuckle. It was low and short, but it was there. “Alright, twenty-two”, he said, shaking his head slightly. “Still looks like you could’ve just graduated high school”.

“You really know how to flatter someone”, you replied, your voice thick with sarcasm.

Jack just shrugged, the early morning grogginess fading as he started to wake up more. His gaze lingered on you a little longer this time, his eyes narrowing slightly, but not in annoyance anymore. Now, he was just observing. You were pretty—really pretty, if he was being honest with himself.

But the realization hit him hard. Twenty-two. He was about to turn forty-four. You were literally half his age. The thought settled uncomfortably in his mind, though he tried to shake it off.

"Alright, kid", he said, his voice gruff again, retreating back into the casual distance he preferred. “See ya”.

With that, he stepped inside, closing the door right in front of you without waiting for a response.

You stood there for a moment, blinking at the door that had just shut in your face. Kid? That word echoed in your mind, and you felt a strange mix of annoyance and confusion. He wasn’t wrong about the age gap, but calling you “kid” after everything felt dismissive, almost like he was putting up a barrier between you two. You shook your head and exhaled, trying to brush it off.

It was clear Jack had some walls up. Maybe he wasn’t used to people, especially people younger than him, making any kind of gesture of kindness toward him. And maybe the whole interaction with him shirtless in the morning had thrown him off just as much as it had thrown you off.

You turned and headed back to your apartment, thinking about the strange dynamic between you and Jack. Grumpy, yes. But there was something else there. Something guarded.

As you closed your own door behind you, you couldn’t help but wonder what Jack was like beyond the tough exterior.

A week had passed, and it had been even worse for Jack than the last one. His days were long, the heat relentless, and his body ached from the grueling physical labor. He was counting down the days to his time off—just two more weeks. Two weeks until he could finally take a break, sleep in, and forget about the stress of his job for a while. But for now, he just had to survive the grind.

Oddly enough, he hadn’t seen you since that morning when you’d left him the croissants and donuts. You’d been quiet, which he appreciated. No more hammering, no more disasters coming from across the hall. But there was a tiny part of him that had occasionally wondered what you were up to.

Right now, though, there wasn’t much time to think about anything other than the job. The afternoon sun beat down on Jack and his crew as they worked on the roof of a building they were constructing. He and Anthony were just placing the last few beams on the roof’s framework. Jack’s muscles strained as he lifted another beam into place, sweat rolling down his back, his shirt sticking to him.

Anthony grunted as he helped steady the beam. “Man, I’m ready for a beer after this”, he muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, no kidding”, Jack replied, his voice rough from the heat and exhaustion. “Two more weeks of this shit, and then I’m off for a while”.

Anthony let out a low whistle. “Lucky bastard. I’ve got another month before I get any real time off”.

Jack just grunted in response, focusing on securing the beam. His mind drifted as they worked, thinking about the small, simple things that were keeping him going: cold beer, quiet nights, and maybe catching a game or two. He wasn’t a complicated man; he didn’t need much. Just peace.

As they secured the final beam, Anthony gave it a satisfied pat. “There we go. Done for the day”.

Jack wiped his hands on his jeans and glanced around, feeling the familiar sense of relief that came with finishing a hard day’s work. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the construction site.

“You heading out after this?”, Anthony asked, stretching his back.

“Yeah”, Jack replied. “Just gonna grab a shower and maybe head to the bar later”.

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “You ever bring a date to the bar, or is it just you and a couple beers, like usual?”.

Jack shot him a sideways glance. “Not in the mood for company lately”.

Anthony smirked. “Still? Man, you’ve been single too long”.

Jack shrugged. “I like it that way”.

Anthony chuckled but didn’t push the subject any further. As they packed up their tools, Jack found his thoughts drifting back to you, just for a moment. He wondered why you had been so quiet lately, and then quickly brushed the thought aside. None of his business, he reminded himself. You were probably just living your life, and he had his own to deal with.

Later that evening, Jack, Anthony, and a few other colleagues met at their usual bar, a dimly lit dive with a worn-out charm. They sat at their usual spot, a round table tucked into the corner where they could relax after a long week. Beers in hand, the group laughed and traded stories, trying to shake off the stress of the day.

An hour in, Jack was halfway through his second beer, quietly listening as Ben told a story about some mishap on the job site. Just as Jack was about to take another swig, Anthony nudged him sharply in the ribs.

“Eh, look over there”, Anthony said, smirking mischievously. “A younger version of Samantha”.

Jack’s brow furrowed as he followed Anthony’s gaze. Samantha had been out of his life for a while now, and he wasn’t exactly eager for any reminders. But when his eyes landed on the group near the bar, he froze.

There you were.

Standing with two other women, slightly dressed up but not over the top. Your outfit hugged your figure just right, your hair styled in a way that made you look effortlessly put together, and the confidence with which you carried yourself drew his attention. Jack blinked, a bit taken aback. You were laughing with your friends, completely unaware of his presence, and it hit him.

Jack’s jaw tightened as he continued to stare at you, the resemblance to his ex-wife, Samantha, undeniable—but also maddeningly different. You were younger, sure, but there was something else that set you apart. You weren’t just a mirror image of Samantha from years ago—you were prettier, more effortlessly captivating. The way you carried yourself, relaxed and laughing with your friends, was light years away from the strained, complicated relationship he’d had with his ex. Samantha always had a tension about her, like she was waiting for something to go wrong. But you… you looked carefree.

It was unsettling, and Jack hated that he even noticed.

Anthony, still watching Jack’s reaction, chuckled and leaned in. “Man, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were having a flashback to better days. But she’s got that young energy, huh? Way different from Samantha”.

Jack clenched his beer tighter, trying to keep his face neutral. He didn’t want to give Anthony the satisfaction of knowing how much the resemblance rattled him. “Drop it, Anthony”, he muttered, taking another long swig from his beer and feeling the tension creeping up his spine.

He could still feel Anthony’s gaze on him, the teasing grin plastered across his face, waiting for Jack to break. Finally, Jack muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Anthony to hear, “She’s my new neighbor”.

Anthony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a slow grin spreading across his face. “No shit?”, he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this new piece of information. “Your new neighbor, huh? Well, that just got interesting”.

Jack shot him a warning look. “Don’t even start”.

But Anthony, of course, wasn’t one to let things go so easily. “I mean, come on, man. She’s hot. And right across the hall? That’s convenient”.

Jack shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading, especially with how complicated his thoughts about you had become since seeing you tonight. “She’s too young”, Jack grumbled, trying to shut down the conversation. “Way too young”.

Anthony snorted, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, she’s young, but legal if she’s here".

Anthony grinned, leaning in closer to Jack, clearly relishing the chance to stir the pot. “Look, man, I’m not saying you should marry her, but you seriously need to get laid. You’ve been walking around like a grumpy old man for months now. Maybe a little ‘neighborly connection’ is exactly what you need”.

Jack shot him another glare, but it lacked the bite it usually did. He was already worn out from the long week, and Anthony’s relentless teasing was only adding to his frustration. “I’m not getting into any of that”, Jack grumbled. “Especially not with someone that young”.

Anthony laughed again, clearly enjoying himself. “Come on, man, it’s not like you’re a hundred years old. You’re in good shape, and hell, you’re just across the hall. Perfect setup for something casual. And trust me, she looks like she could use a good time, too. She’s been in there quietly, right? Bet she’s bored out of her mind”.

“She’s just a kid, practically”, he muttered, though even as the words left his mouth, he knew they sounded weak. You weren’t a kid—you were twenty-two, an adult. But the age gap, the differences in life experience… it all felt like a bad idea to him.

Anthony shook his head, grinning like the devil on Jack’s shoulder. “Dude, you’re talking like a grandpa. You’re forty-four, not dead. If she’s hot, she’s interested, and you’re both adults… What’s the harm?“.

Jack shook his head, muttering under his breath, “She probably has a boyfriend anyway. And even if she didn’t, there’s no way I’m getting involved. I’m not that guy”.

Anthony rolled his eyes, clearly not swayed by Jack’s reasoning. “Boyfriend? You sure about that? I don’t see a guy around her tonight, do you?”. He gestured toward you with a casual wave of his beer.

Jack rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with the conversation, and mumbled, “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to take a piss”. He stood up from the table, pushing his chair back a little harder than necessary as he made his way toward the restroom, trying to escape Anthony’s relentless teasing.

As he walked away, he could feel Anthony’s grin burning into his back. The whole conversation was irritating, but what was bothering him more was the fact that Anthony wasn’t completely wrong. Jack hated that his mind kept wandering back to you. It was the last thing he needed—to be thinking about his neighbor in a way that would only complicate things.

Reaching the restroom, Jack splashed cold water on his face after handling his business, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Forty-four. The lines on his face were deeper than they used to be, but he was still in good shape, and he knew it. But that didn’t change the fact that you were too young, too different. He wasn’t about to get involved in something that could end badly.

“Get it together, Jack”, he muttered to himself before drying his hands and heading back out.

Just as Jack stepped out of the restroom, still mentally shaking off the conversation with Anthony, he collided with someone. His hands instinctively went up to steady himself—and you.

It was you.

You had been walking by, not paying much attention as you laughed about something one of your friends had said. The sudden impact caught both of you off guard, and you stumbled slightly before Jack’s firm grip steadied you.

“Whoa, sorry”, you said quickly, blinking up at him. It took a split second for the recognition to set in, and then your eyes widened. “Jack?”.

For a moment, Jack froze, his brain not quite catching up with the fact that you were standing right in front of him. It was one thing seeing you across the bar, but this? This was too close, too personal. The scent of your perfume mixed with the warmth of your skin made his pulse quicken in a way that unsettled him.

“Yeah… it’s me”, he muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended as he let go of your arms, stepping back a little. He cleared his throat, his usual composure slipping.

You smiled, completely unaware of the storm brewing in his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here”.

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to act nonchalant. “Same goes for you”.

You smiled again, your expression easy and carefree, while Jack fought to keep his usual gruff exterior intact. The bar felt smaller now, more suffocating, with you standing there so casually in front of him. Jack was suddenly hyper-aware of every detail—how the soft light from the bar highlighted your features, how the scent of your perfume lingered in the air between you two, and how unprepared he was to be dealing with this moment.

"Yeah", you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's my first time here, actually. Just wanted a chill night with the girls".

Jack nodded, still trying to figure out what to say that wouldn’t sound awkward. “It’s a good spot. Been coming here with the guys for years”.

You glanced back toward your friends for a moment, then turned to face Jack again, your smile softening a bit. "Well, it’s nice running into you. You’re usually so… quiet in the building".

Jack huffed a small laugh, though it was more to cover his discomfort than anything. "Yeah, I keep to myself mostly".

There was another brief pause, and Jack couldn’t help but notice how easily you seemed to talk to him—like there was no tension, no awkwardness on your end. For you, it was just a casual run-in with a neighbor. For him, it felt like the ground was shifting beneath him.

“So, what are you doing here? Out with friends?”, you asked, tilting your head slightly, genuinely curious.

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, just with some of the guys from work”.

You nodded, looking over toward the direction of his table, and when you spotted Anthony watching the two of you with that ever-present smirk, you chuckled. “Looks like your friend is enjoying this”.

Jack followed your gaze, and sure enough, Anthony was still grinning like an idiot. Jack let out an exasperated sigh. “Ignore him. He’s been running his mouth all night”.

You laughed softly, a sound that made something twist inside Jack. “Well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say hi”. You gave him a small wave, a little flicker of warmth in your smile as you stepped towards the toilet.

Jack nodded, still standing there awkwardly. “Yeah. See you around”.

As you walked away, Jack stood there for a moment longer, watching you go, trying to process the strange mix of emotions that had taken root.

Finally, he turned and walked back to his table, where Anthony was grinning wider than ever.

“So”, Anthony began, clearly eager to tease, “did you ask for her number, or are you still pretending you’re not interested?”.

Jack groaned, sitting down and taking a long sip of his beer. “Anthony, I swear, if you don’t shut up—”.

But Anthony just laughed, clapping Jack on the back. “Relax, man. I’m just saying, you could do a lot worse than your hot new neighbor”.

Jack scowled, though his heart was still racing from the brief encounter. He hated to admit it, but Anthony had a point.

As the evening dragged on, despite Jack’s best efforts, he couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction. Every time you laughed, there was a brightness in your eyes that tugged at something deep inside him, something he’d long buried. It was a carefree, youthful spark that he hadn’t felt in his own life in years, and he found himself drawn to it, even as he tried to keep his distance. A couple of times, your eyes met his, and each time, Jack quickly looked away, hoping you hadn’t noticed the stolen glances.

By the time the night had worn on to 1 a.m., much later than Jack had planned to stay out, he decided it was time to call it. His body was tired, and the thoughts swirling in his head weren’t helping. Grabbing his phone and car keys from the table, he knocked lightly on the surface, signaling his goodbye to Anthony and the rest of the crew.

“Alright, I’m heading out”, Jack mumbled, half-expecting some teasing comment from Anthony, but the guy just gave him a lazy wave.

“Take it easy, man”, Anthony replied, clearly deep into his drinks.

Jack nodded and made his way toward the exit, the cold night air hitting him as soon as he stepped outside. As he adjusted his jacket, he spotted you almost immediately.

There you were, standing just off to the side, arms crossed over your chest as you looked to the right and left, your eyes slightly glassy from the booze. You were shivering slightly, your short dress doing little to keep the chill off, and it didn’t take much for Jack to realize you were alone, waiting on a cab.

He hesitated for a moment, watching you from a distance. Part of him wanted to walk straight to his truck, drive home, and forget about the whole night. But the sight of you standing there, vulnerable and cold, stirred something in him. He wasn’t the type to just leave someone like that, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

With a sigh, he walked over to where you stood, his footsteps quiet against the pavement. As he got closer, you noticed him, your expression flickering from surprise to recognition.

“Hey”, Jack said, his voice low but steady. “You alright? You waiting on a ride?”.

You nodded, your arms tightening around yourself as you tried to ward off the cold. “Yeah, I’ve been waiting for a cab, but… it’s taking forever”.

Jack glanced around the empty street. The night was quiet, save for the occasional car passing by in the distance, and it was obvious that the wait for a cab could stretch on for a while.

“You want a lift?”, Jack asked, trying to sound casual, though his voice came out a little more gruff than he intended. “I’m heading home anyway”.

You blinked, a little surprised by the offer. “Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…”.

“It’s no trouble”, Jack cut in, shifting his weight. “Better than standing out here in the cold”.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes searching his face as if weighing whether or not to take him up on it. Finally, you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Okay, thanks. I appreciate it”.

Jack gestured toward his truck, parked a little ways down the street, and you followed him, still hugging your arms for warmth. The air between you two was quiet, the sounds of the bar fading as you both walked to his vehicle. Jack unlocked the door, opening the passenger side for you, and you slipped in gratefully, rubbing your arms as the warmth from the car’s heater started to kick in.

As Jack settled into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at you, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. He didn’t know why, but something about this moment—about you sitting next to him—felt heavier than he expected. Like there was more to this ride than just a simple favor.

Jack quietly turned on the seat heater for you, not saying much as the truck rumbled to life. The warmth slowly began to fill the cab, cutting through the cold that had settled over both of you outside. For a few minutes, the silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable—more like two people processing the unexpected moment they found themselves in. Jack kept his eyes on the road, his hands steady on the wheel, but his mind was anything but calm. Having you there, so close, stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in a long time.

After a while, you cleared your throat softly, as if testing the waters for conversation. “So… are you married? Got kids?”, you asked, your voice casual but curious, clearly trying to fill the quiet.

Jack’s grip on the steering wheel tightened for a split second, his mind flashing back to a time when those words didn’t sting so much. He let out a slow breath, his voice low and a little rougher than before. “Nah, no wife, no kids. Not anymore, at least”.

You tilted your head, sensing something behind his tone. “Not anymore?”, you echoed softly, not pushing too hard but leaving the question hanging there.

Jack hesitated, wondering how much he should say. It wasn’t exactly a light topic to get into, especially on a late-night ride home. But something about the darkness, the quiet hum of the truck, and maybe even the fact that you were his neighbor, made him feel like he could let his guard down just a little.

“I was married”, Jack admitted, keeping his eyes on the road. “For a while. No kids, though. Didn’t work out”.

You glanced at him, your curiosity evident, but there was no judgment in your eyes. “I’m sorry”, you said softly, your voice sincere.

Jack shrugged, but the weight of his past was still there in his voice. “It’s been a long time. Just… didn’t expect it to go the way it did”.

He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t press, sensing that the subject was a tender one. Instead, you nodded quietly, letting the moment sit between you for a while longer. The truck rolled smoothly along the quiet streets, the heater doing its job as the warmth began to spread through the seat, easing the chill in your body.

Trying to shift the mood, you offered a small smile. “Do you ever plan to settle down again?”.

Jack let out a quiet, dry chuckle, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Not sure that’s in the cards for me anymore. I’m not exactly great at relationships”.

You laughed softly in response, the mood lightening a bit. “I think a lot of people feel that way these days. It’s not easy”.

Jack glanced over at you, appreciating the fact that you weren’t prying, that you seemed to understand without pushing him too far.

“What about you?”, Jack asked, surprising even himself with the sudden question. He hesitated for a second before adding, “The guy from that picture in your apartment? Is that the one?”.

You blinked, taken aback by the directness of his question, but you understood what he meant. The picture of you with your ex, the one Jack had noticed the first night he helped with the bookshelf. You let out a small sigh and shook your head, a mix of sadness and relief in your voice.

“Yeah… that… was him”, you admitted, your tone soft but resolute. “We were together for a while, but it didn’t work out either. Turns out he wasn’t exactly… loyal”.

Jack’s grip on the steering wheel tightened again, the familiar sting of betrayal hitting a nerve. He understood that feeling all too well. “That’s rough”, he muttered, glancing at you for a brief second before turning back to the road. “Sorry you had to go through that”.

You shrugged, though there was a hint of bitterness beneath your calm exterior. “Yeah, well… it happens, I guess. That’s why I moved here. Needed to start over somewhere new”.

Jack nodded in understanding, the weight of shared experiences creating an unspoken bond between the two of you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the truck filling the silence again.

After a beat, Jack spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “It gets easier… eventually”.

You glanced over at him, sensing that he was speaking from his own pain. “Yeah”, you replied softly. “I hope so”.

Jack gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Just takes time”.

As the truck rolled on, you found yourself feeling a strange sense of comfort being around Jack. Despite his gruff exterior, there was something genuine about him—something steady that you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The conversation shifted something between the two of you, a small crack in the walls each of you had built to protect yourselves from the world.

The rest of the drive passed by in quiet, comfortable companionship.

Eventually, Jack pulled into his usual parking spot outside your shared building. The truck came to a slow stop, the hum of the engine fading into the quiet night. You both sat there for a moment, neither of you in a rush to break the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Jack glanced at you as you began to unbuckle your seatbelt, the warmth from the conversation still lingering in the air. He wasn’t sure why, but something about the evening felt different, like a line had been crossed without either of you realizing it. Not in a bad way, but in a way that shifted the dynamic between you, making things a little less distant, a little more real.

You turned to him with a soft smile, your eyes still carrying that spark of gratitude. “Thanks again, Jack. For the ride and… well, for the talk”.

Jack gave a brief nod, his usual gruffness slipping just a little.

As you reached for the door handle, Jack hesitated for a moment, then spoke before he could stop himself. “Hey”.

You paused, glancing back at him. “Yeah?”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 3

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#jensen ackles #jack durfy x y/n #jack durfy x reader #jack durfy x you #jack durfy #buddy games

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kaiijo · 1 year

Text

CERTAINTIES — SHIDOU RYUSEI

pairing: shidou ryusei x gn! reader content: pro soccer player! shidou, pr manager! reader, shidou and kaiser’s behavior is a warning and of itself, shidou calls reader “sweetheart” and “sweets,” one suggestive joke notes: i <3 unhinged men

You’ve learned that there are very few certainties in this world. The trains are not always on time, your hair is not always how you want it to look, your coffee order is not always what you want it to be.

But if you can be certain of one thing, it’s that Shidou Ryusei is a walking PR nightmare.

Your colleagues all warned you about taking him on as a client. His reputation precedes him: he’s loud, generally pretty rude, and absolutely unpredictable; he had cycled through no less than five PR agents in just a month. One of his previous agents, who sits in the office besides yours, came back in tears one day, huffing and sniffling that she “can’t work with him anymore!” because “he’s an absolute maniac! A total psycho!”

But if the various first place trophies and medals that were displayed in your childhood home for spelling bees and baking contests and even a few sport competitions mean anything, it’s that you never back down from a challenge. And, not to be too self-congratulatory, but you’ve been in the job for three months now — the longest of any PR agent — and you’re fairly sure you’re not anywhere close to being fired or run off by Shidou.

You sit on the sidelines of the field, watching the practice match between PXG and Bastard München with heavy eyelids. You got very little sleep the past few days after having to mitigate a “Shidou Ryusei Disaster,” as your team has taken to calling whatever scandal Shidou stirred up. Your eyes slid shut for a few seconds before the shrill of the whistle indicating halftime break made you jump, pitching forward. You would have definitely eaten grass if the man sitting beside you, Harada Kaito, hadn’t grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back.

You and Kaito work at the same agency with Kaito representing the actual PR angel, Yukimiya Kenyu. You can’t say you’re close friends but you get along well and enjoy chatting with him when PXG played against Bastard. “You okay there?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern.

You sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms. “Yeah, I’m fine. Had to put out some fires in the last few days so it’s been kind of hectic.”

“Right,” he says with a nod. “You spun it well. Saying that Shidou’s outbursts are products of overwhelming passion for soccer that’s just a little misplaced sometimes is honestly genius. Might have to steal that from you one day.”

You snort, “Yeah, right, Yukimiya’s a saint. I’m sure you’ll never have to put out a statement like that.”

He chuckles, leaning back. “Probably.”

“You wanna go, Rat Tail?” Both you and Kaito whip your heads over to see Shidou toe to toe with Michael Kaiser of all people. Of all people, he has to choose Michael Kaiser to fuck with today. Kaito gives you a pitying look as you run a hand down your face, standing up and heading over to douse this blaze before it can turn into another Shidou Ryusei Disaster.

“I’ll squish you like the insect you are,” Kaiser bites back, mouth pulling into a vicious smile.

“How about I exterminate you like the rat you are?” And you already see the way Shidou shifts his weight, the way his eyes grow sharper and his gaze more wild, and you know you’re a millisecond away from pandemonium, broken bones, and a potential lawsuit.

“Shidou Ryusei, if you even think about it, I’m never making you yukhoe ever again!”

Kaiser and the small crowd of soccer players that had formed around him and Shidou look a little surprised to see you a few feet away, clearly unaware that you had been practically sprinting across the field to get to them. Shidou, on the other hand, looks like he expected it and there is something smug about his expression that makes your eyes narrow. “Ah!” he croons, only needing two strides of his long legs to reach you. “So you were paying attention to me!”

“What are you on about?” you huff, crossing your arms.

“Well, you were falling asleep on the job. And then you seemed a little preoccupied with your little boytoy over there.” His eyes slide over to Kaito, who’s checking something on his phone.

You roll your eyes. “We’re colleagues, Shidou, you’ve met Kaito before.”

“First name basis? Are you sure you’re just colleagues?” He throws a nasty grin at you but there’s a look in his eyes that doesn’t quite match the simper.

“Yes.”

“You don’t sneak into the conference room together for a little rendezvous?”

“No.”

Shidou tilts his head and rocks on his feet, balancing on his toes and leaning in close. His nose almost brushed yours and your face heats up to an unhealthy temperature. Then, he smirks and pokes your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You swat his hand away. “Shut up.”

“Aww, that’s not a very nice way to talk to your client.”

“It’s not very nice to go around physically assaulting people.”

“I beg to differ, sweetheart,” Shidou says with a wink. Your face burns more.

You massage your temples and instead turn to Michael Kaiser, suddenly acutely aware that the first strings of PXG and Bastard München are all witnessing your interaction. “I’m sorry about his behavior.”

Kaiser raises an eyebrow and you think he’s going to give you a hard time but he only walks over to you, brushing past Shidou, and offers you a charming smile. “I don’t blame you,” he says, placing a placating hand on your shoulder and glancing at Shidou derisively over his shoulder. He looks back at you. “Feral animals are hard to train. My suggestion is to get them a leash and muzzle.”

You frown at Kaiser and peer over his shoulder to look at Shidou, but his eyes are glued to the hand on your shoulder. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Shidou chuckles but there’s something flat and unsettling about his tone. It shifts into something colder. “And get your hand off them.”

“Oh?” Kaiser smirks. “I don’t see them asking me to.”

“They’re too nice to say it. I, on the other hand, have no qualms ripping it off.”

“‘Qualms,’ that’s a big word for a little insect.”

“That’s enough,” you say, finally stepping out of Kaiser’s grip. You check your watch; there’s still a little time in the halftime break. Your eyes zero in on Shidou and you give him a stern glare. “We’re going to have a talk. Come with me.”

You turn on your heel and you don’t need to look back to know that Shidou’s following. Kaiser calls after the two of you, “Aww, finally decide to obey like a good dog!”

And much to your chagrin and great embarrassment, Shidou fucking barks back.

You lead him into the hallway that lead from the locker room and you say, “You can’t just go around kicking your teammates, you’re going to get into real trouble one day!”

“Aww, you care that much about me?”

“It’s literally my job to care about your public image.”

“Don’t got breaking my heart like that.”

You roll your eyes and scowl. “I literally just cleaned up one of your messes, Shidou. I need you to take it down.”

Shidou studies you for a few moments, eyes roaming your face. You squirm a little under his scrutiny and then Shidou takes a step towards you. You instinctively move back a step. One step forward, one back. Forward, back.

You grunt a little when you hit the opposite wall, Shidou crowding you against the wall. He leans in close, mouth right next to your ear. “I’ll tone it down on one condition.”

Your heart is about to beat out of its chest. “What is it?”

He smiles slyly and purrs, “Let me take you out.”

You dare to meet his gaze, shocked by its intensity. Your reply is so quiet, like it’s meant just for Shidou to hear. “Okay.”

His eyebrows raise and he asks, “Really?”

Your traitorous mouth lifts into a soft smile. “Yeah.” And Shidou beams.

You’ve learned that there are very few certainties in this world. But if there’s one thing you’re very certain of, it’s that (for better or worse) Shidou Ryusei can make your heart race.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock imagines #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes

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