#it kinda just adds flavor though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waddingham · 6 months

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oH Ted as the 'someone coming every week to cook and stock her fridge with meals'!! your brain does so much good work and I am so thankful we get to reap the benefits <33

yeah!!!!!! and i couldn't think straight until I got rid of it!!! here take this it's killing me!!

She begs Phillip to keep her on. She begs him, tries to double his fee even, to keep him from total retirement, but he's steadfast in his decision.

The thought of hunting down another chef is horrific. But he gives her no choice.

She blows through them like tissues for three months, suffering over-complicated meals, over-powering flavors, chefs clearly trying to impress as if she wants a Michelin star meal every night. She doesn't – if that was what she wanted she knows exactly where to get it.

When she's at home she just wants good food, that's easy to reheat and easy to eat. Which is how she ends up finally succumbing to Leslie's repeated insistence that she give his man a chance.

“He comes over once a month,” he tells her, more than once. “Puts together some things we can freeze and just pop in the oven. Simple enough for the boys to do it, so Julie and I can have at least a couple evenings where they can feed themselves.”

He brightens when she gives and asks for his info, and when she gives him a call, she's struck dumb hearing his American accent.

She's running out of options, so she takes a chance on him.

She taps her fingers on the counter, waiting for the doorbell, checking her watch when she finally hears it. He's perfectly on time, but she feels like she's already searching for a reason to be disappointed with him.

He has a pleasant smile for her, though, and a friendly demeanor and a firm handshake and a handsome face – none of which she can immediately find fault in as they introduce themselves.

“I'm sure you're busy,” he says as she leads him to the kitchen. “So I appreciate you taking the time to let me peek at the kitchen and ask you a couple questions.”

“Of course,” she says, used to the procedure by now. Most of them have some kind of sheet they have her fill out, usually via email, but she doesn't mind taking a moment to meet the person who's going to be cooking her food.

“Oh, this is nice,” he compliments, looking around the kitchen, as he sets down the backpack hooked on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she says, gesturing for him to claim a stool. “Though you can probably infer from your presence that it gets little use.”

“That's okay, I'll go easy on it,” he chuckles, pulling a binder from his bag and opening it up on the counter. “First, though, I wanna make sure I know what I'm cooking.”

He doesn't have a questionnaire or the like, it seems. The lined paper in front of him is blank before he scrawls her name at the top.

“How many people am I cooking for, first of all?” he says without looking up.

She licks her lips, her gaze shifting.

“Just me.” She keeps her tone matter-of-fact. She hopes.

The way he glances up makes her doubt whether she managed it.

“Makin’ it easy on me already,” he says with a soft smile, adding a 1 to the corner of his sheet. “You have any allergies or dietary restrictions?”

“No,” she says, then adds, “Though, I do have the tendency to drop meat for a while every so often.”

“A part-time vegetarian?”

She cracks half a smile. “Sure.”

“Okay,” he chuckles. “What kinda meals are you after? Breakfast, lunch, dinner?”

“Dinner, mostly, though I won't say no to the occasional breakfast. Mostly out of curiosity.”

She doesn't think any of the chefs she's hired have offered to make breakfasts.

“I make a mean frittata,” he grins. “What do you like, then? What are some of your favorites, so I can get a feel for what you want?”

“When I eat at home, I want quick and easy,” she says. “The less steps for me, the better. I don't want extravagant, elaborate meals. Shepherd's pie, any kind of pasta, soups, salads. Fish, chicken, red meat on occasion, not every week preferably. Anything veg heavy will probably be a hit with me.”

He nods, taking rapid notes in what must be a very familiar format to him. He fires off a few more questions for her, elaborating a bit further on what she likes before switching gears.

“Anything you absolutely don't want?”

“Not especially,” she says. “I don't like to limit a new chef too soon. I'd rather you make me your best and I'll let you know.”

“Uh oh,” he smiles.

He does that a lot.

“Am I on trial?”

She opens her hands up, giving him a small smile and he chuckles.

“I've had six chefs in ten weeks,” she tells him. “So yes, maybe a little bit.”

“Why didn't they fit the bill?” he asks curiously. “So I can avoid a similar fate.”

“I don't think they quite believed me when I told them how simple I wanted things,” she says. “Too many sauces and sides and heat this up separately and put this on this. If I want a five course meal, I know where to get one. When I get home from work, I want to throw something in the oven or dump it on a plate and microwave it, not anything glamorous.”

He looks pleased to hear it – he seems to actually relax slightly, as if he'd been uncertain he could deliver on what she wanted.

“Well, I can guarantee you that going too fancy will not be a problem with me,” he says, writing a few more things down. “I'm used to basic.”

“Good.”

“I've got Tuesday afternoons free, if we're doing every week.”

She nods.

“Between noon and four, if that works for you.”

“I'll be at work, so you'll have free reign,” she says, opening a drawer on the island and pulling a house key from it. “Make yourself at home.”

“Alrighty,” he says, taking it from her. She watches him pull a roll of masking tape and a ring of maybe half a dozen keys from his bag. He rips off a piece of tape and labels it with an RW before adding it to the keyring.

“If you ever have any requests, that number you have is my cell. Shoot me a text before Tuesday if you want it that week, or you can leave me a note.”

“Okay.”

“And let me know if you think of anything else you want me to know,” he says, starting to pack everything away again. “If you hate olives or can't stand Bleu cheese.”

“I love olives,” she says emphatically. “And there's no kind of cheese I will refuse.”

“Cheese is the best, right?” he remarks. “They're all good. Yellow, white, hard, soft. Even stinky, moldy…still good.”

She snorts a bit, but fully agrees.

“I'm pretty much always stocked with fresh mozzarella to nibble on so feel free to help yourself.”

“Oh, don't tell me that,” he says, shaking his head. “I'll clean you out every week.”

She chuckles as he throws his backpack over his shoulder.

She sees him out, intrigued now to see what he cooks up for her.

When she gets home on Tuesday, there's a delicate cacophony of smells hanging in the air and she remembers for the first time today – after a long, trying weekend – that Ted was meant to come.

And apparently did.

The kitchen is spotless (thank God – chef number two had a tendency to slack on the cleaning up bit) and she eagerly makes her way to the fridge.

Each covered pan has a strip or two of tape on top – 35 minutes @ 175° the small square one requests. Thank God. One singular step.

If it tastes like shit, she's going to cry.

It reveals itself to be a lasagna and she flips the oven on, lets it get hot while she peeks at the rest of what he's made, then pops it in the oven while she goes upstairs and gets comfortable.

She notices the extra pan by the kettle when she comes back down, this one without a lid, left on a trivet.

Three neat rows of shortbread lie within it, a note flat on the counter in front of it.

A little extra treat – maybe a bribe so I don't end up being Disappointing Chef Number 7 – and a thanks for giving me a shot. I'm told these are a winner with a cup of tea.

He's signed it with a mustached smiley face that makes her chuckle.

They smell divine. She can't resist prying one up and taking a bite.

“Oh, fuck me,” she mutters to herself, looking at the biscuit with a bit of wonder as it melts on her tongue, perfectly sweet and salty.

Oh, wow. She glances at the oven, then the pan in front of her.

She might have struck gold.

Everything is delicious. He's clearly not a professional five star chef, but every bite has her in disbelief.

It's just so good. She was skeptical, but he even nails a shepherd's pie for her, dumping cheese on top without her even requesting it. Nothing is unpleasant or poorly made, nothing has her thinking to text him and tell him she didn't love it. His portions are more than enough for her and she frequently takes what's left to the office with her. She has never taken lunch with her to work. Ever.

His cooking tastes like dining at a friend's house, like family made it, like he loves cooking for people and puts it in every bite.

And the biscuits. She finished the pan before the week was even out, unable to help herself.

She's a little bit devastated when there are none on the following Tuesday.

She leaves a note the next time she expects him.

Any chance for biscuits again?

She's ecstatic to find a fresh pan when she gets home.

She's nursing her last three by the weekend, determined to make them last long enough to request more.

I hope no notes is a good thing?

She's been meaning to text him, tell him how pleased she is with everything he's made, but it continued to slip her mind.

How am I doing?

No notes is a very good thing, she sends back. Everything has been absolutely delicious.

Oh good :)

I love to hear it

The biscuits have become a problem though

No biscuits next week then?

God no

I'm hooked on them

Don't do that to me

You got it boss

She almost laughs at herself when she gets home.

She's turning down dinner dates and good-looking men in favor of a date with the container labeled prosciutto stuffed chicken breast in her fridge that she's been thinking about all day.

He'd probably get a kick out of the fact that his food is so good it's ruining her dating prospects, but that's most definitely not something she'll be telling him.

She gets herself a little bit of this week's salad while she waits on the oven – romaine with candied walnuts, dried cranberries, gorgonzola, sliced green apple with a deliciously sharp vinaigrette. She peruses the fridge in her typical Wednesday fashion – on Tuesday evenings she's made a habit of grabbing the first thing she sees and letting him surprise her – looking for the small container of sauce that the lid of the chicken makes mention of.

She chuckles when she sees it. Some of his notes on things have gotten more elaborate, sometimes teasing, sometimes with a wine pairing suggestion, sometimes just with a little smiley face. The lid for the sauce only says creamy pesto, but there's masking tape wrapped in a spiral over its sides, covered with writing.

I know, I'm gonna get in trouble for making a separate sauce for something but all you gotta do is dump it on when it's done! It's worth the extra step I promise!

She snickers around her salad, setting it on the counter.

It's well, well worth the extra step.

When she gets home on Tuesday, she's unexpectedly greeted by a strong, delicious smell and noise from the kitchen. She leaves her heels and her coat before turning into the kitchen.

Ted's at the stove, looking almost mortified as he immediately starts apologizing.

“I'm sorry, Rebecca, I'm so behind today, but this is my last one and then I'll clean up and get out of here–” he rambles, but she's taking him in more than listening. Namely, she's taking in his tired bloodshot eyes and his disheveled hair and the way his hands shake as he gestures to the mess of the kitchen.

“I'm sorry–”

“No, Ted, it's alright,” she insists. “It's not a problem.”

“I'm almost done.”

“Are you okay?” she asks gently.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I just need to finish this…”

She frowns and rounds the island, unconvinced and unsettled – he's almost frantic with energy.

“Come here.”

He frowns as she pulls him away from the stove.

“No, it'll burn–”

“In which case I'll survive with one less meal,” she says firmly, pushing him to the dining table. “Sit.”

He does – reluctantly – and she gets him a glass of water.

“Take a deep breath. Relax,” she insists before stepping to the stove. The pan there has a sauce in the making, a plate of meatballs next to it, as well as a pot of water getting hot.

“What needs done here?” she asks.

“I can–”

“Stop,” she commands, lifting a brow at him before he can rise. “Sit. Just tell me.”

“The, the cream needs to go in,” he says. “Give it a second, then the other two little bowls there, the Dijon and the Worcestershire and then the spices.”

“Okay,” she says, keeping her voice steady, hoping it'll relax him, show him she's far from upset that he's still here.

She follows his instructions, pouring the measuring cup of cream in and mixing it with the little whisk that's already there. She lets it get hot, then adds the rest, stirring it in.

“What am I making?” she asks with a small smile.

“Swedish meatballs,” he supplies, sounding distracted. “One of my favorites.”

“Swedish, hmm?”

“Well, I can't speak to them being authentic,” he says. “Recipe was my mom's. And she's definitely not Swedish.”

It smells delicious – whatever spices she just added were warm and aromatic and it makes her mouth water.

“What next?”

“Uh, turn the heat down and let it simmer,” he says. “Needs to thicken.”

She dutifully turns the stove down and then joins him, taking a seat next to him.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he deflects, “I'm fine. Just…didn't sleep so good and then this morning was…I'm fine.”

She doesn't push, seeing how much effort he's putting into forcing a smile and changes course.

“Do you have anywhere else to be today?” she asks.

“No, no, you're my last client on Tuesdays.”

“Then stay,” she insists, gesturing to the stove. “Looks like enough for two.”

“I shouldn't,” he tries, shaking his head. “I should get out of your hair.”

“You're not in my hair,” she asserts. “I would enjoy the company and I'm most certainly not complaining about getting a meal fresh off the stove.”

He looks her over for a moment, presumably looking for any hint of falsehood before he nods a bit haltingly.

She smiles.

“Should, uh, should put the meatballs back in to finish ‘em,” he murmurs. “And get the noodles on.”

“Yes, chef,” she says, giving him a wink when he finally smiles.

“I'll do it,” he says, and she lets him this time for how much calmer he seems. She occupies herself by offering him a drink and pouring herself a glass of wine. He accepts a couple fingers of a scotch he's apparently had his eye on for the last few weeks and she watches with interest as he takes a sip.

“Oh, that's nice,” he mutters.

“The only one I buy anymore.”

“You have excellent taste, I have to say,” he remarks. “Thank you.”

She helps him get the rest of the dinner together and is glad to see him relax more and more, until he's smiling easy as they both sit at the island with bowls of noodles and meatballs.

“Well, it smells fantastic,” she says, eagerly stabbing a forkful of noodles and half a meatball.

It's delicious. Creamy and warm and truly everything about it screams comfort food.

“Oh, Christ,” she mumbles around it.

“Yeah? That one a winner?”

She nods emphatically, eyeing him as she chews.

“Nothing you make is bad,” she mumbles, watching him take his own bite.

“That's ‘cause I only make what I know I can make good for you,” he chuckles.

“Why's that?” she asks. He can take a chance on her – he's built up plenty of faith in him already. One bad meal isn't going to have her canning him.

“Oh, to impress of course,” he says with a crooked smile that she returns.

“You've already done so,” she says. “I haven't had a single thing I didn't like.”

“I'm very happy to hear it,” he says, sounding very genuine about it.

They eat slowly because conversation comes very easily. Whether it's the drink or the distraction of her company, he's light-years away from the frazzled ball of anxiety she was met with.

“Safe to assume you don't enjoy cooking much, huh?” he asks her as they both scrape their bowls.

“I don't think I would mind it if I had ever learned,” she muses. “But I've had a cook for most of my life and learning how now just to feed myself seems more trouble than it's worth.”

“You've had a cook most of your life?”

“My parents kept one when I was a kid, and then when I was married, my ex-husband insisted on a cook,” she says, half rolling her eyes. “Thank you, by the way, for not inundating me with pork pies and sausage rolls and roasts and dousing everything in gravy.”

“I enjoy a good gravy, but, oof, that's heavy eatin’ right there.”

“Too heavy,” she agrees. “Though my tastes were rarely taken into account.”

He hums as he wipes his mouth and she finds understanding in his eyes.

“How long were you married?” he inquires.

“Twelve years,” she says slowly.

“That's a lot of gravy,” he says more seriously than the words might call for. She hears his meaning plain enough.

“Yes. It was.”

“Well,” his tone brightens a bit, “now you got me to make whatever you please.”

“Too right,” she chuckles, sipping her wine. “And it's always spectacular. I don't know how you do it, what you're lacing everything with…”

“Oh, I just make sure I put a little love in everything, that's all,” he grins.

She takes in the sight of him, smiling and content, his creased eyes warm, and she likes this. She's enjoying this. She likes him.

It's so hard to know though, even as his eyes move over her face, the quiet stretching long, if she likes him or if she's simply missed enjoying a comfortable meal at home without having to do it alone.

Her eyes drop, aware of how intensely she’s looking at him. She's not sure when it happened but they're both turned completely towards each other on their stools, leaning on the counter, and his fingertips are right there at the edge of hers – the mere straightening of her fingers would bring them into contact.

“I appreciate you letting me stay and have some of your dinner,” he says softly.

“You made it,” she offers with a grin.

“You paid for it,” he returns.

“It's not a problem at all,” she says, meaning it wholeheartedly. “It's nice to have some company.”

“I'm gonna be honest with you, Rebecca, you don't seem like a woman who would have any problem finding company.”

Her brows lift alongside the corners of her mouth, a little internally delighted by his boldness.

“I think I'll take that as a compliment,” she grins.

“As it was meant,” he assures.

“In which case…I'll amend to say it's nice to have such comfortable and easy company.”

His cheeks round, his gaze dropping in something akin to bashfulness and she thinks it really might just be him that's growing on her.

“I’m glad you stayed,” she says, her smile slanting crookedly. “Even if I pretty much made you.”

“I didn't wanna impose. You were very kind to give me a second to…calm down.”

She's not sure if it's embarrassment, exactly, or shame that has him toying with his glass instead of looking at her.

“Felt like I was trying to catch up to myself all day,” he admits.

“I know the feeling,” she sympathizes.

He's quiet for a moment before he responds.

“My ex-wife was supposed to come out with our son in the next couple weeks here, but she called and they pushed it back until the summer.”

His frown is back and his gaze is faraway, but she doesn't speak.

“Been here for almost a year now and they still seem to be getting on just fine without me.” He sounds like he wishes he could say it with detachment, but it comes out rather devastated.

“They're in the States?” she asks gently, pulling him back to here and now as he shakes himself a bit.

“Yes.”

“Why don't you go see them?” she tries, though she's very aware she's got the bare minimum of facts.

“‘Cause I'm still stinging from her snapping that she just needs some goddamn space,” he says, giving her a twisted, wry little grin.

She frowns but he shrugs, lifting his drink to his lips.

“S’pose it's about time to just get over it,” he mumbles.

“That's not easy to get over,” she says kindly. “Especially from someone you love.”

“No, it's not,” he agrees. “Ain't much love to lose these days, though. You're probably right, should just take matters into my own hands, hop over the pond.”

“Don't go too long,” she says, only half teasing. “I shouldn't be left to feed myself for a prolonged period of time.”

He smiles again and the sight has warm satisfaction melting in her.

“Oh, if I go anywhere I'll set you up, don't you worry,” he assures her.

“Thank goodness.”

It's odd how difficult she finds it when she rises and steps away. A part of her wants her to stay put, keep the space between them minimal, but she writes it off as a result of just how long it's been since she had sex.

“Now, I don't see any biscuits,” she says. “But I suppose I'll give you a pass this week.”

He rises with a soft chuckle, following her with his own dish to the sink.

“No, no, I'll do it,” he says as he starts to clean up from dinner. “Unless you need your kitchen back.”

She starts gathering dishes – he must clean as he goes, because it's not nearly the mess she'd imagine would come from cooking four whole dinners.

“Oh, for what? You think I have a chef on the side coming over tonight?”

He turns, expression scandalized, a hand landing on his chest as if he's been shot.

“Tell me you'd never.”

She chuckles, joining him at the sink, hands full.

They clean up together and then she pours them both another drink before she claims a stool, content to watch as he puts together a batch of biscuits. She watches him move comfortably around the kitchen, chatting easily with her, and it's making an impression, one she's blatantly ignoring.

She half expects him to try to leave her once they're in the oven and has her excuses for him to stay at the ready, but he sits again, waiting the half hour they need to bake at the island with her. He asks her about her job, how she came to own the club, and conversation wanders to and fro.

“I'm intrigued to see what you've cooked up for me this week, chef,” she remarks at one point.

“You know I ain't really a professional chef, right?” he chuckles. “I dropped out of culinary school actually.”

“Really? Why?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I wasn't having fun. I love cooking, I love making food and feeding people, but I didn't wanna do it the way they train you to, you know, cooking in a restaurant or joining the race to be the next big something. I like doing it this way. Getting to know people and cooking what they like. Feels like I'm paying the bills by cooking for friends and that's…” He clicks his tongue with a nod. “That's just perfect for me.”

“Well,” she says, smiling at how clearly he loves what he does. “You're still a chef. Definitely to me at least.”

He rises when the oven chimes, giving her a smile.

“That's enough for me.”

The biscuits have filled the kitchen with the warm scent of vanilla – the same scent that's usually still barely lingering when she gets home.

He stays long enough to let them cool slightly and cut them and she watches as he arranges them on the trivet by the kettle, just as he always does. He packs his things up then and she sees him out, exchanging smiles and goodbyes.

She's still smiling when she finally goes upstairs to change for the evening and it takes her a while to identify the feeling.

She feels like she just got home from a really, really good date.

It wasn't a date, so she doesn't know why she's disappointed when she doesn't hear from him again over the week. She doesn't contact him either, trying to recategorize the evening in her mind.

She's very pleasantly surprised, in that case, when she comes home the following Tuesday and he's still there. She knows by the smell of something sweet and nutty filling the air before she even gets to the kitchen.

It's spotless this time. He's not all anxious energy this time either – he smiles when she peeks in, looking rather uncertain about his welcome, but it still makes something deep in her chest ache.

It's rather nice. To come home to a smile from someone.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hello.” She lets her smile ease his uncertainty and her tone ask her questions for her.

“I, uh, wanted to say thank you,” he explains. “For last week, when I was…when I wasn't feeling so great, for being so kind, letting me hang out for a while.”

She starts to wave it off again, but he continues.

“I made a little something special for ya. Something I can't really leave for you to reheat later,” he says, gesturing to the ovens. “If you want a little snack?”

She nods eagerly, kicking her heels off toward the stairs before she joins him.

He pulls a dish from the oven and sets it on the counter. He fiddles with something there, but she doesn't see what until her turns, sliding a round plate to the center of the island between them.

Whatever it is is perfectly golden brown, looks delicious and smells heavenly.

“Honey baked brie,” he informs her. “With some walnuts and some fig jam, tiny bit of rosemary.”

“Oh my god,” she almost moans. “And it's what, wrapped in pastry?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he smiles. “Thought it might be something you like.”

“I can tell you already you're correct,” she says, rounding the island to find them some forks. “I can't wait to taste it.”

“Let me know how you like it.” She frowns, but he's got a small smile when she looks up. “I'll let you…”

“You think I'm going to eat that entire thing myself?” she asks, lifting her brows as she pulls two forks from the drawer.

“Well, I know how much you like cheese,” he chuckles.

“I'll share,” she says, handing him a fork. “With you.”

She doesn't even have the patience to sit down – she slices her fork through the pastry and creamy brie begins to ooze out. She scoops it up with some pastry, catching a nut and a bit of fig and shoves it in her mouth.

“Careful, it's hot–”

“Fuck me,” she mutters without thought.

It's delicious. Creamy and sweet and savory, the pastry flaky and buttery. It's rich and indulgent but not sickeningly so and she’s in love.

She's bringing another bite to her mouth when she realizes he's just smiling at her, pleased as punch.

“Please eat some,” she begs around her bite. “Because I can not eat all of this and I will if you leave me alone with it.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, cutting off a bite for himself.

He hums, pleased with his handiwork. “Mm. Not to toot my own horn, but that's good.”

“Mm!” she hums, getting an idea. She steps away to the wine cooler, squatting down to look for one of her less frequent whites. She comes back with a pair of glasses and an off-dry Riesling.

“This was a bit too bright and citrus-y for me, but it might be gorgeous with this.”

“Okay. You’re the sommelier here, not me,” he says as she pours, then slides a glass to him.

“Oh, please, your pairings are always spot on.”

It does go nicely, complimenting every bite.

“God, this is lovely,” she tells him.

“I'm glad you like it,” he mumbles around his own bite.

“Did you make the pastry?”

He shakes his head. “No. Normally I would, but I didn't decide on this until I was shopping today and that takes some time.”

“How long did this take?”

She listens with interest as he explains how he made it, amazed at how straightforward it sounds.

“Christ, it sounds like I could make it.”

“Uh oh,” he says, eyes widening. “Am I talking myself out of a job?”

“Oh, hardly. Even if I figured out how to make everything you cook for me, I'd still keep you around,” she admits. “You’re good company.”

“Well, that's nice to know,” he smiles, eyes soft.

“Also, knowing how to definitely doesn't mean I actually have any desire to cook any of it myself,” she chuckles. “So you still have plenty of use.”

She winks with her teasing as his warm laugh has him tucking his chin, his crows feet deepening.

“I see how it is.”

She can't help but take him in, delighted by how carefree he is today. God help her, she really does like him – she wants to know him better. He's so genuine, so unselfish and generous, and she wants to keep him smiling.

“Thank you,” she says when she finally really can't eat any more, maybe a quarter of the round of brie left on the plate. “That was very kind of you.”

“No, thank you,” he echoes. “It was nice last week, to sit and eat with someone and I needed it.”

She nods get agreement, leaning her hip against the counter.

“I won't, uh, make a habit of just hanging out here, though,” he says, presumably to reassure her.

Her brows tip, eyes on his as she lets out a disappointed, “No?”

His lips part, but he doesn't manage to form a response. It hardly matters – they're communicating plenty in their gazes, trading glances at each other's lips. The moment stretches, and stretches, her breath changing to suit the surplus beats of her heart at the intensity in his warm eyes.

He leans closer, tipping his head, and something jolts through the center of her when he kisses her. She returns the gentle pressure, daring to part her lips to close them against his. Her fingers curl into her hand at her hip with restraint, fighting the urge to sink into his hair or pull him closer.

It's too delicate, this lovely feeling, and draws a tenderness up through her she hasn't been able to find for months.

He eases back slowly and she catches the breath he stole. Her eyes open, finding his still closed and she watches his parted lips begin to tighten as he fights a smile. The sight inspires one of her own, pulling at her cheeks as he opens his eyes, the smile winning and straightening his mustache out.

“I, um…”

She rolls her lips into her mouth, not even trying for words. She has none.

He can't find any either.

She drives forward again, prepared this time with a little extra breath in her lungs, a little more confidence. He kisses her back with a little more something too and she can't restrain her hands anymore from rising to hold his face. She tries to imbue the motion of her lips with plenty of invitation, but it's not until she pulls back and he follows, wavering toward her, that he steadies himself with a hand on her hip. Her attention goes straight to the heat of it through her dress as it slides to a more respectable height on her waist.

“You are very welcome to linger here as much as you like actually,” she exhales.

“Oh, I feel welcome,” he says, voice low.

She grins, pulling him in again. “Do you?”

“I sure do.”

He barely gets the words out before they're kissing again. She opens to him, tastes the brie and honey and the dry sweetness of the wine and finds it appropriate that he should be so indulgent. His hands finally make their way around her, narrowing the space between them even more. She's not sure when her arms found their way around his neck but they tighten there in response.

He doesn't let her go far when they part again, dropping a kiss on the corner of her mouth, her cheek. Her eyes close with the sensation, the scratch of his mustache and his warm lips.

“I really like cooking for you,” he murmurs.

The way he says it makes it sound like a deep confession and she feels silly for how fluttery it makes her to hear. She smiles against his lips and discovers this isn't new information to her. It's in every bite.

“I know you do,” she says low in his ear. “I can taste it.”

“Can you?” He sounds surprised and pleased.

“Yes.” She guides him back to her lips. “I can.”

#i don't know how you accidentally write five thousand words of fanfiction but it happened to me...#a gift for you anon. just cause 💌#also sorry the formatting sucks here but i don't feel like titling and tagging and summarizing and posting on ao3 rn #anon #tl drabbles

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luza-wayne · 4 months

Text

an important question.

miya osamu x reader

1.8k words

osamu bby! hope you enjoy this!

the sliding door opened and you quickly turned around and smiled at the person who just went in.

“welcome!” you and your workmates said, everybody's reflex making everyone speak in chorus.

when the customer settled for a seat, you quickly walked to them and pulled out your notebook and pen.

“good afternoon, what would you like to have today?”

“yes. i’ll have today’s special.” they answered, smiling.

“roger.” you said as you wrote it down. you turned around and looked at the kitchen’s door where the cook patiently waited for orders.

“today’s special for one!” you shouted and he gave you a thumbs up to say he's got it.

as you were about to clean out one of the tables, you heard the door open again.

“welcome!”

i think we're going to have a busy day today.

…

“phew…” you exhaled.

“(y/n),” the owner who also manages the counter calls. “please do the honor.” he joked.

you chuckled as you made your way to the entrance.

you turned the signage around and showed the ‘closed’ side.

finally, you sighed.

you walked back in after you picked up the board outside.

“one customer said that there was a graduation ceremony nearby.” your colleague informed everyone.

“so that's why…” you replied.

“let's clean up fast so we can go home already.” the owner ordered and you all headed to your designated cleaning areas and started the work.

as you were arranging the plates, your workmates called you.

“(y/n), hey.” she said,

you turned around to look at her, but suddenly you're being pushed to the back door.

“eh? why? i'm not done with the plates yet.” you said.

“i’ll do it. i’ll do it. he’s waiting for you. i still owe you a favor for covering for me last time.” she said, giggling while she went back inside.

you knew who she was talking about, so you just thanked her and went to your locker and changed.

you tried your best to be as fast as possible, your feet probably moving faster than shinkansen.

you looked at the clock and noted that he's already waiting for fifteen minutes. fortunately, you're already done packing your things and retouching your makeup.

you went to say goodbye to your workmates and to the owner.

you opened the backdoor and saw him sitting on the railing wearing earphones and scrolling through his phone, most likely, he's on tiktok.

since he didn't notice you were out already, you walked behind him and covered his eyes with your hands.

“guess who?” you uttered with a slightly different voice.

“damn. hmm… i wonder who… i can't think of anyone… oh my god… who is this?” he replied with the most monotonous voice you've ever heard in your life.

“haha, you're so funny.” you said as you removed your hand off of his eyes.

“why? i played along though?” he asked as he opened to you the plastic bag he was holding.

“whatever.” you said as you scan for a certain flavor of onigiri in the bag.

he noticed you searching for your usual pick of onigiri.

“ah, shit. sorry, it was sold out today. i told one of my workers to leave some, but he was a newcomer, so he forgot it. pick a different flavor for now. i'll be sure to bring some next time.” he explained as he scuffled through the bunch of onigiri, looking for a certain one.

“here, try this. it's a new flavor. i'm still working on it. if you think it's good enough, then i'll add it to the menu.” he muttered and handed you the food.

“come on, don't say that. you’re pressuring me.” you whined, but still accepted it.

“well, your favorite flavor was also made because you kept inventing and mixing up ingredients, ingredients that are kinda suspicious actually, but who would've thought it'll become a massive hit to the customer.” he muttered as he stood up.

“first of all, i didn't know you put it on the menu and second, that just means that my taste buds are for the masses.” you said and took a bite off of the onigiri. “it's delicious, but it's kinda bland.” you commented.

“of course, i'll put it in. you said you liked it and that i should put it for sale. also, noted. thanks for the review.” he replied. he held you on your waist to silently tell you two to start walking.

“i was obviously just kidding about putting it for sale! why would you take it seriously?” you told him, looking up at him. all while still continuing to eat.

he just chuckled at your complaints and then went to grab one onigiri for himself too.

“at least, many people liked it.” he countered.

“well… of course, i'm glad about that.” you replied.

you squeezed closer to him and rested your head on his side of his chest. he held your body a bit tighter, so that he could guide your body on the way home.

“anyways, how was your work?” you asked, starting a new topic.

“well, it was quite hectic today.” he started and you hummed as a reply for him to continue his story.

“the newbie i was talking about earlier made a lot of mistakes, but he's getting the hang of it.” he added.

when there is a crossroad, the traffic light is still red. he stopped and looked at the remaining time. there's still a lot left.

you automatically stopped walking too when he did, but didn't bother to look at the lights. you know he'll tell you when it's green already.

while waiting he rested his chin on your head, before planting kisses on your hair. he likes smelling your hair. even after work hours, he said it still smells good and would smell it regardless.

“let's go.” he softly informs you when the lights say go.

responding to his voice, your body just moved on its own and followed the guidance of his hold on your waist.

“how about yours? did your work go well?” he queried next.

“it was so busy today.” you immediately replied, your voice unintentionally made a whining sound, not that you mind him hearing it. “there was a graduation ceremony near our work and a lot of families were celebrating there.” you complained as you wrapped your hands around his body and buried your face on his shirt.

the smell of his perfume is still present. the fragrance that you like the most.

he straight away comforted you by rubbing your back up and down.

“good work.” he chuckled.

you looked up at him, glaring.

“what? why did you laugh?” you asked.

“you're so cute.” he said, without missing a beat.

you immediately hide your face by burying your face once again on his shirt as soon as you feel your face heating up.

“stop it, idiot.” you said.

“yeah, yeah.” he replied while ruffling your hair.

as you turned a corner, osamu remembered one thing they were talking about earlier.

“that's right. are you free this weekend?” he asked.

you glanced up at him and tilted your head.

“why?” you told him.

“we're having a vacation with the whole family. wanna come with me?” he nonchalantly asked.

you let go of him and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“are you serious?” you questioned him.

“that was a genuine question.” he answered.

with his family?!

“i-i'll give it a thought.” you replied.

“you don't have to come if you don't want to.” he reminded you as he pulled you closer again and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“i'll understand, don't worry. 'tsumu's also there so i definitely understand.” he snickered.

“it's not about atsumu! i actually get along with him pretty well. ah— that's right, i saw him the other day. he treated me to a drink, haha.” you said, thinking back about that day.

“what?” he halted and of course, because he was holding you close, you stopped too.

“why didn't you tell me about that?” he asked with a serious voice.

you were not an idiot. of course, you know why he's acting like that.

you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“don't worry. he didn't do anything funny. he was quite respectful to be honest. he knows his boundaries.” you smiled at him to calm him down.

he was unsure at first, but he did calm down from his obvious intent to land a punch on his very lovely twin. all thanks to you, though.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust atsumu, it’s just with the current situation, he might blurt out something unnecessary.

“here's my house. thanks for walking me home.” you said as you stood in front of him and tip toed.

“you're welcome, madame.” he replied to you.

noticing that you were tip toeing, he smiled and leaned down.

“thank you.” you said as you kissed his cheek. you smiled at him and he didn't even try to hide his blushing face.

“hey,” he hesitated for a moment.

“hm?” you hummed.

“i just wanna ask… are we—” he looked at you.

he sighed and shook his head sideways.

“nothing. good night.” he uttered, smiling.

“be careful on your way home, okay? bye-bye.” you said as you turned around and walked inside.

“i will.” he smiled watching you go inside your house.

as soon as he made sure you got inside safely, he started walking towards his house. since he's alone now, he can now walk faster.

when he arrived home, he saw atsumu arriving too.

“why are ya' here?” he asked.

“what? can't i visit my twin's place?” he answered, already sounding offended by his twin's question.

osamu just rolled his eyes and opened the front door.

“did ya' just arrive home too? ya’ sure are late.” atsumu said, looking at his wristwatch. “ah. ya' walk (y/n) home, didn't ya'?” he guessed— right.

“hm… being so clingy with each other and even kissing, on the cheeks, picking her up from her work and even walking her home. are ya' sure ya' two ain't in a relationship?” atsumu smirked.

osamu looked back at him and glared.

“shutting yer' mouth will get ya' dinner, just so ya' know.” he threatened.

atsumu knows it better than anyone else. he really won't give him his home-cooked dinner if he won't shut up.

osamu walked to the kitchen and started preparing dinner.

“stupid 'tsumu. i also wanted to ask her that.”

meanwhile, you turned the lever of the shower and closed your eyes.

i thought he was gonna ask me about our current relationship earlier. you thought as the water hit your skin.

i chickened out earlier. osamu thought as he turned on the stove.

both sighed in defeat.

next time, i’m really going to ask it! they both said for a million times, only to not bring it up tomorrow.

hope you enjoyed that one, because i did. reblogs would be much appreciated!

if you'd like to support me and my broke ass, you can tip me at my ko-fi acc! thank you very much!

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu x yn #osamu x you #haikyuu x you #luza-wayne #luza-wayne works

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tsuy4n · 8 months

Text

Finally onto the last one! After this I'm gonna go back to lurking (I don't trust my own words).

Cutie patootie x Unstable/Unhinged, (add more and name the dynamic urself!)

[Leo] [Donnie] [Raph] >Mikey<

*sneaking in the snack bar*

[Y/n]: Okay, let's go.

Mikey: Wait! *points finger* It says no trespassing.

[Y/n]: Bro there's only dos of us, not tres.

Mikey: ...Bro

—

Mikey: Did you know that when breaking a bone, it typically will heal back stronger than before?

[Y/n]: So what you're saying is I should break every bone in my body until I become invincible?

Mikey: Please don't.

—

Raph: You lied?

Mikey: We may have.

Raph: You may have or you did?

[Y/n]: We may have did.

—

Mikey: Tell me the scariest horror story you know.

[Y/n]: Life without you bro.

Mikey: Bro.

[Y/n]: Bro.

—

[Y/n]: *after tracking down, beating up a couple of villains and setting their hideouts on fire*

[Y/n]: As long as I strike fear and terror into the hearts of my enemies what does it matter what my 'gender' is.

[Y/n]: I don't identify as a 'male' or 'female' I identify as a fucking threat.

Leo: *nods* Don't mess with Miguel, noted.

Raph and Donnie: *nervously agrees*

—

[Y/n]: It costs $400 to go see a therapist, it cost $0 to tell myself it be like that sometimes.

Mikey: *softly* no.

—

[Y/n]: Here's a fun idea. We hang a mistletoe but instead of kissing the person underneath, we have to fight them.

Donnie: That's kinda dumb.

Raph: Exactly, so we are not doing that–

Donnie: Though at the same time interesting and kinda fun! Winner gets to obviously ask the loser whatever they want!

Leo and Mikey: *nodding* Mistlefoe.

Raph: Stop encouraging them!

Raph: I'm in.

—

[Y/n]: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case?

Mikey: What?

[Y/n]: I want to be on Buzzfeed unsolved.

Mikey: Can we go back to the part when you said "When I get murdered"?

—

[Y/n]: *trying to flirt* I really like your name.

Mikey: *smiles brightly* Thanks! Splint's the one who gave it to me.

Leo: *whispering into [Y/n]'s ear* Are you sure you want that one?

—

Mikey: I think I'm in love with [Y/n].

Raph: You think you are?

Donnie: You just ranted about how perfect their smile is for over half an hour.

Leo: *pats Mikey's head* We know you do, lil' bro.

—

Mikey: How do you feel about art?

[Y/n]: I mean, you're pretty cool.

—

[Y/n]: Without you, 60 minutes feels like an hour.

Mikey: Aww, how cute!

Donnie: *From the distance* The fuck?

—

Leo: I accidentally ate Mikey's sandwich. How long do you think I'll have to live?

[Y/n]: *calmly* 5.

Leo: five what?

[Y/n]: 4.

—

[Y/n]: You seriously need to calm down.

Mikey: But how can ice cream be birthday cake flavor if birthday cake can be ANY flavor???

[Y/n]: Huh...you actually do have a point there.

—

Villain of day: I'm going to kill you!

Mikey: Hold on, let me ask [Y/n].

Villain of the day: It's not a choice-

Mikey: They said no. *smiles* And they're on their way here!

Mikey: *realizes* I think you should start running.

Donnie, Leo, and Raph: *nods in agreement*

—

Mikey: I love you!

[Y/n]: I trust you.

Mikey: *confused*

[Y/n]: That's bigger to me than "I love you".

—

[Y/n]: *Dramatically watches rain fall through the window* We're born alone and gonna die alone.

Donnie: *Done* Mikey literally just left to get pizza.

—

[Y/n]: I am clearly not cut out to help make people life choices.

Mikey: Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. You helped me choose you!

[Y/n]: Okay, that time I was a genius.

#rottmnt #rise mikey x reader #rottmnt incorrect quotes #reader insert #rise donnie #rise leo #rise mikey #rise raph #rottmnt x reader

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awoogahonkhonk · 9 months

Text

There’s actually a lot of TWST characters who I think would (or wouldn’t) partake in the devils lettuce sooo here are some TWST weed Headcanons.

~~~

Also, Ik they teens. Teens, don’t do drugs. But I did as a teen and am still not of age, high while writing this soooo yeah. Please remember that this is fiction and these are fictional characters.

Note: not all characters are in this list. If I didn’t add a character it’s either cause I had nothing of substance to say about them or I don’t know the character enough to make a proper headcanon. Also if I say something wrong I’m sorry I’m not a connoisseur I just do what I get.

Warning(s): General talk about weed, Yuu is a stoner(maybe idk) in this, cursing, unedited and written by someone under the influence

~~~

Riddle Rosehearts: As much as I want him to, and I think he would actually benefit from it, he wouldn’t. Especially pre overblot but also post. And it’s more than it’s against the rules. All he knows about marijuana is what he’s learned from the anti drug PSA’s his moms had him watch. And he hates the smell. And his fragile lungs can’t take smoke. And he doesn’t trust edibles or like the taste. So, as much as I want him to just give it a chance and chill tf out, it’s a firm no.

Trey Clover: He’s impartial. Doesn’t like smoking, or getting high in general but he doesn’t have anything against others doing it. May smoke in group settings but rarely. He will 100% make some fire weed brownies if you ask. Also, number one guy to be with if you get the munchies.

Cater Diamond: I think he’s tried it, had a bad high, and never touched the stuff again. Might be convinced to try again with some close friends but only if they know what they’re doing. Also, acts like he knows what he’s doing but ends up hacking up a lung.

Ace Trappola: Yeah why not. He’s down to try anything once. Actually likes being high with people, like him and Deuce and Yuu have reg smoke sessions and he loves it. Just likes the feeling idk. I don’t think he smokes alone tho. Likes flavored pens.

Deuce Spade: Will attend every smoke session and get a second hand high but will rarely actually participate. He thinks he has to be the responsible one while Yuu and Ace get high off their asses. But he’s not against smoking a little every once in awhile.

Leona Kingscholar: For sure dude. Someone is almost always on something in Savanaclaw so he’s been around his fair share and tried a couple things. Doesn’t like the smell from joints cause yk beast man heightened everything. So he prefers edibles or pens. Pens still stink to him but not as bad. Casual stoner. It helps him sleep when everyone in his dorm is all riled up over nothing. Gave Ruggie his first edible but was not happy when he had to take care of him after he greened out. (I have so many nsfw thoughts about Leona and smoking with Yuu omg don’t)

Ruggie Bucchi: Like I said, first time he had an edible he greened out. In his defense, the dosage was way too much. Leona kinda forgot he wasn’t as tolerant as him. He didn’t really want to do it again after that but he figured out smoking was easier cause he could gage where he was better. So now he’s a lil stoner. High Ruggie = ravenous Ruggie. Like Fr you’d think this kid was starving the way he was shoveling shredded cheese into his mouth, straight out the bag.

Azul Ashengrotto: Just gonna make a blanket statement now, none of the mer students smoke. They aren’t technically supposed to have lungs and filling those lungs with smoke is just painful. So he doesn’t smoke. He’ll do an edible every so often, usually to help him sleep, but that’s it. IS the campus dealer tho. He knows a guy. He knows quite a few guys actually. Hooks everyone up, for a price.

Jade Leech: Never has, never will. Has absolutely no interest in it. Doesn’t like not being in control of himself. Will be around when others get high though, he thinks it’s hilarious. Especially when people do too much and get sick.

Floyd Leech: Complete opposite of his brother. Will get high anytime, anywhere, with anyone. It hurts to smoke, like I said previously, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying. It’s actually getting better. He also thinks smoking looks cooler than edibles. High Floyd is a very cuddly monster. Will squeeze anyone who gets close enough. Just be thankful that he’s too out of it to use his full strength.

Vil Schoenheit: Will loudly advocate against it and ban his dorm from doing it but probably has a secret stash somewhere. Only Rook knows about it. He’s stressed ok?! You try being a famous actor/model/fairest in the land.

Epel Felmier: My boy wants to. He really does. He thinks it looks so cool, and if Yuu can do it so can he! But the smoke burns his lungs and edibles taste bad. But that doesn’t stop him from trying!

Idia Shroud: OKAY so there are two ways I could write this. Cannon how he probably is, or headcannon how I want him to be and see him as. Cannon, he probably talks a big game but actually knows jack shit about drugs of any kind. And is kinda scared to try. But he will, to seem cool. Ends up coughing up his heart but he tried and that’s what counts. And now he can officially say he’s ‘done weed’. Headcannon, Idia as a little loner stoner. It calms his nerves and makes it easier to talk to people. Usually if he’s out of his dorm, he’s high. He’s also high when he’s in his dorm. It helps him sleep and he thinks better with a lil weed in his system. May have developed a small codependency but that’s okay(no it’s not seek help). Mr wake and bake.

Malleus Draconia: Weed? Like, dandelions? What? He’s so confused when someone offers. Why would you smoke weeds? Lilia has to explain it to him three different ways before he gets it. He’ll try, but please give him an edible. It’s for your own safety. His lungs could probably take the smoke but if he ends up taking a hit too big he will cough up flames and not little ones. Very spacey once he’s high. Will stair at the ceiling for hours and say absolutely nothing.

Lilia Vanrouge: Has, will, wants to rn actually. Lilia lived through the 70s, he’s done almost every drug known to man, and probably some not yet known, at least once. Why not? He can take it. Doesn’t smoke often but also does? Idk how to explain it. Likes flavored cartridges more than anything else. The weirdo who fucks with cotton candy. He gets bad cotton mouth tho so… I mean, if you believe in the vampire theory like I do…👀

Silver: The first time he smoked was with his dad. He walked in on Lilia and a bong when he was like 15 and Lilia was like cmon m’boy. Now, he’s concerned that Lilia wasn’t more careful and exposed him so young but that also means he has an okay relationship with weed. Like, he’s able to make his decision firmly due to plenty of experimentation. He hates smoking and edibles generally but will absolutely body some weed brownies.

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lit3rallyll0yd · 1 year

Text

๋࣭ ⭑ taking care of you when your sick. request. bsd x reader

@perfectlyjollyland

gender: gender neutral

type: scenario/short imagine

characters: dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa, kunikida, and ranpo

warnings: lowercase writing

๋࣭ ⭑ dazai gives you all the love and attention you could ask for! you don't even need to ask, this man is all over you. doesn't give a shit if he's at the risk of getting sick! when your sick, this is his moment to be michivious. "you look like rudolph.." he teased, feeding you another spoonful of chicken soup. you glared at him, your body covered in a fuzzy blanket and tissue boxes all over the bed. he had his trench coat off, resting against the handle of your door, meaning...he is not leaving until you feel better. work? since when did he ever go? "shut up.." you growled, taking one last bute before finishing the bowl. dazai chuckles, putting the bowl on the ground beside your bed. he moved closer to you, cuddling in on you. "dazai..no..i'll get you sick-" "that sounds like a future me, problem~" you sighed, playing with his hair as he rests his head on your chest. "can you get me take-out?" he smiled playfully, "don't push it, 'donna.."

๋࣭ ⭑ chuuya does what he can here and there to help you feel better. no matter what you say, "chuuya, it was a tiny cough-" "that's how it starts! next thing we know you're in a hospital bed!" tells the boss to give you day offs and when you come back to work, he says to take things slow. "come on, babe! drink the medicine!" chuuya begged, holding a spoonful for (any flavor) medicine. you turn your head, "no! taste like ass!" your boyfriend sighed, "it will make you feel better. i can't stand seeing you in pain." if you said either yes or no, you opened your mouth and took a drink of the medicine. chuuya chuckled at your resistance to barfing it up, "there we go.." he would do this every couple of hours, having to usual chase you, but you always end up taking it. i wanna add this real quick, he holds your hair back (if it's long enough) when your throwing up.

๋࣭ ⭑ atsushi sat on your lap, a spoonful of medicine in his hand, hovering it in front of your mouth. "here comes the airplane~" he sang, making a propeller noise with his lips. you laughed, taking the spoonful of medicine and scrunched your nose, "bleh.." your boyfriend smiled, stepping off you to put the medicine away. when your sick, he's full-on MOM he is going to whatever he can to help. cuddles? 100% dinner? what do you want? sleep? he'll leave you be if you want him to. finds it cute how the littlest of things make you tired. carries you around the apartment and he has no problem doing so. he also forms his arms into his uhhh weretiger form and you rest your head on his fur- ITS SO CUTE<3 he was 99% in the risk of getting sick, so days after you recovered...he got sick :( now it's your turn to return the love he gave you<3

๋࣭ ⭑ akutagawa is asking every 5 minutes how your feeling and if he can do anything? dude, you just want to sleep. you don't get mad with him though, you just call him over to you and hug him, pulling him into the bed with you and cuddled into his side. he lays there, unsure what to do. however, he moves his arms around your waist and hugs you. if you sneeze, you have to kind of sneeze into his coat- which...is kinda gross but he doesn't mind...your sick! attempts to cook for you, but ended up burning the pot..making burnt chicken soup....he ended up just ordering your dinner and you both share it. he's pretty good and bribing you into eating the medicine, it kinda scares you. he gets kinda scared when your sick because he has no idea how long it will take for you to get better :(

๋࣭ ⭑ kunikida shouts, "Y/N! WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT WORK! YOU HAVE A FEVER!" everyone looks at you, causing you to blush. your nose was runny(just a little) and your undereyes were a light black. "but..donuts.." you pout, pointing to the box on the table. kunikida sighed, taking a donut out from the box and walked toward you, pushing you out of the door and down the hall. he handed you the donut, watching you take a bite out of it. "i told you to stay in bed..." he rubbed your nose with a tissue, throwing it out as you both walked out of the agency. "but it got boring without you.." you rested your head on his shoulder as you both waited for a taxi to drop you off home. kunikida literally doesn't want you to move a muscule...he has to trouble doing things for you. doing your paperwork, making your foods, carrying you around your home, or running hot baths and showers for you<3 makes sure you eating healthy and keeping your body healthy when you get better.

๋࣭ ⭑ ranpo boops your nose, "i know your sick, y/n~" you sighed, moving your computer away from your lap. "congrats insepcter gadget, you cracked the code!" he giggled, "i always do!" last night you went to bed not feeling well. you just thought it was dinner, but when you woke up this morning barfing on your toilet. to your surprise, or not, ranpo came over to take care of you. don't even bother arguing with him,he is going to be taking care of you and babying you. he doesn't let you do anything. "ranpo, i can feed myself. my arms are fine-" "shshshsh- less talking, more chewing..now, open wide~" rolling your eyes, you gave in to your boyfriend babying you. when do you end up feeling better, he will be accpeting thank you's<3 aaaaand maybe even a kiss or more on the lips😚

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thisapplepielife · 9 months

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Taking Over the Neighborhood

Prompt Day 21: Snow | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Fluff, Neighbor Meet-Cute, Snow, Platonic Stobin, Cat People, Eddie POV

Eddie hates winter.

It's cold. It's miserable.

And the snow.

The goddamn, motherfucking snow.

He looks out the window, and he's not sure he's even gonna be able to get home by closing time. That's the shitty thing about working nights in the winter. Sometimes, when you're really unlucky, you get stuck at work.

They get a few more inches of snow, but he's determined to make it home, come hell or frozen water. His van can just suck it up.

He has to drive about ten miles per hour, but he does make it home. Then he gets to wade through his snow-covered sidewalk. Fantastic.

His jeans are wet from the knees down, and he's freezing, so he jumps in the warm shower. Even if he'd really rather just crash.

The next day, he wakes up just after lunch, and while he's drinking his first cup of coffee, he notices that his walk has been shoveled. That's weird. He definitely doesn't know any of his neighbors that well. He hasn't lived here long, and his schedule isn't exactly ideal for meeting neighbors. Maybe it's some of the kids in the neighborhood, and he owes them money now. Which, he wouldn't mind paying, he definitely appreciates it.

Maybe he'll see 'em out working.

So, Eddie sits by the window and waits. Soon enough, a guy is walking across the street with a snow shovel. Eddie's never seen him before in his life. Doesn't know if he has a wife, a boyfriend, six kids or a dozen cats. No clue. Maybe all of the above, for all Eddie knows.

But, Eddie pours another mug of coffee, slides on his boots, zips up his coat and goes out to thank him.

The guy's just walking up the driveway when Eddie opens the door, and he freezes in his tracks.

"Hey, thank you, your handiwork is greatly appreciated!" Eddie hollers, offering him a big smile. "I'm Eddie."

"I'm Steve," Steve says, and Eddie smiles at him. "I kinda figured that either you worked nights, or were a vampire," Steve teases, "But look at you! Out in the daytime."

Eddie laughs, "Not a vampire. Bar owner, though, so lots of late nights," Eddie says.

"I hope you don't mind, I was doing mine, and just thought I'd help."

"I really appreciate that help, Steve," Eddie says, handing him the cup of coffee. Steve accepts it with thanks, and Eddie takes the shovel from his hands, and shovels up the small amount of new snow that fell overnight.

"So, a bar, huh? Which one?" Steve asks, and Eddie pauses for a second.

"Hellfire Club," Eddie finally says.

"Oh, that's cool! Small world. My best friend and I have been there a few times. It's great. We liked it a lot. There's not a lot of queer-friendly bars in the area, and a new one is always appreciated," Steve says, and Eddie relaxes.

"I'm glad you guys liked it," Eddie says, smiling, "it's taking up all my time. Hence, the rumors of me being a vampire, apparently."

Steve laughs, and Eddie leans on the shovel, just looking at him. He's very pretty, and maybe, some flavor of queer.

It's Eddie's lucky day.

"You hungry? I can make breakfast? As a thank you for all your manual labor," Eddie offers, and Steve actually nods, which sends a thrill through Eddie. He hadn't expected that, not really.

But he ushers Steve into his house, and they both take off their snow boots at the front door, and then Eddie leads him into his kitchen. "There's more coffee in the pot," Eddie says, and he watches as Steve refills his mug. "Milk or cream in the fridge if you want some, and sugar in the container right there," Eddie adds, pointing.

And Steve doctors up his coffee.

"I should have asked earlier, I forget not everyone drinks it black," Eddie says.

"Oh, I like it both ways," Steve says, stirring his coffee with a spoon he got out of the dish drainer.

Eddie would be so lucky, if Steve likes it both ways.

Steve scoots onto the bar stool, and drinks his coffee while Eddie makes breakfast.

"How do you like your eggs?" Eddie asks.

"The runnier the better," Steve says, and Eddie pulls his hands to his heart, dramatically.

Steve laughs.

"A guy after my heart," Eddie declares, and starts frying some bacon, and puts bread in the toaster.

"How long have you lived across the street?" Eddie asks, glancing over his shoulder at Steve.

"Four, no, five years. My best friend, Robin and I, moved from a small town in Indiana," Steve says.

"I didn't know who lived over there. Single person? Family with six kids? A dozen cats? It could have been any combination," Eddie teases.

"Well, it's one bisexual, one lesbian, no kids, and 2 cats."

Eddie smiles, teasing, "We're taking over the neighborhood."

"The gays?" Steve asks, grinning.

"No, the cat people," Eddie teases, clicking his tongue and a big, black cat comes racing into the kitchen.

"That's Midnight."

Steve reaches down and scratches him behind the ears, and it makes Eddie smile.

Once the food is ready, they sit side-by-side and eat at the counter. Midnight eating his lunch in the corner, on the floor. They talk, and Eddie is happy he's making a friend in town.

Then there's knocking on the front door, and Eddie gets up to go answer it. That's weird. Gareth would just walk in, so he doesn't know who it'd be.

He opens the door to a woman with a bob haircut, "Did you kidnap my best friend?"

"Yes, and I'm force feeding him breakfast," Eddie answers. "You must be Robin."

Steve laughs from the kitchen, then hollers, "How did you even know I was over here?"

"I followed your footprints. And I saw your shovel, dingus," she says, and pushes her way inside.

Eddie steps aside to let her enter.

Maybe he'll make two new friends today.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #snow #meet cute #neighbors #bar owner eddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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solusminds · 3 months

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Younger PJ and Palette (+ some of my HCs)

A few headcanons of mine below

Parts of Palette's bones are a pale yellow color, sometimes pale lime green

Palette's favorite yogurt flavor is "Key Lime Pie," and his favorite Capri-Sun flavor is "Strawberry Kiwi" (this is unrelated, but I wanted to add them because they're personally my favorites)

PJ is an elective mute. They can talk, they have talked, and they kinda stopped after they hit 5 yrs old because they didn't wanna talk anymore. Ink was very concerned at first, but he eventually got used to it and learned ASL for him.

Whenever PJ has a younger sibling, he acts like he hates them, this never lasts long, though, as they end up sitting next to the cradle, just waiting for them to wake up.

PJ ends up teaching their siblings sign language with the help of Ink.

PJ knows some spanish thanks to Error and Undernovela.

PJ likes to bake with Ink, though they both keep getting yelled at by Blue because they eat the batter whenever they make cookies.

The paint on PJ's face moves, kinda like a lava lamp or something.

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ameliora-j · 10 months

Text

— fame f❊cker 𐐪𐑂 michael clifford

𐐪𐑂 summary -> the four times you fucked a different member of the same band, and the one time they all found out 𐐪𐑂 A 5 PART SERIES

𐐪𐑂 content -> part one!, alcohol, bar meetcute, reader not rlly having boundaries, tipsy sex, non australian implied reader, tons of pet names (kitten, pretty girl, my love, etc.), unprotected piv, soft dom!mikey, stranger sex, degradation, praise, humiliation, slight feelings of insecurity (mikey), daddy kink, choking, oral (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), slight size kink, creampie, THIS BLOG IS 18+ MDNI

𐐪𐑂 words -> 4.01k

Michael sits inside the dingy city bar, beer bottle in hand. The rest of the band are all strewn about the bar, having their go at girls, dancing and chatting them up—but he sits alone. Michael always was the least approached of the band members. Though, he didn’t mind—he liked being alone. He sits at the corner of the bar, his leather jacket hanging off the chair beside him so no one would attempt to sit with him.

That’s why, when you walk up to the bar and sneak right in between his legs, Michael is shocked. “‘Scuse me” you murmur to the man quietly, setting a hand on his thigh as you fit yourself between him and the bar. “Peach margarita please” you smile at the bartender.

By this point, he senses you’re already nearing drunk, the hand on his thigh being used to stabilize yourself rather than invade his personal bubble. He sets a hand on your hip to aid in your stabilization. His hand is large, warm and igniting a fire in your belly as he squeezes lightly at your hip.

“Sorry hun we’re out of peach flavor. I can do raspberry, strawberry, mango, or watermelon” the bartender smiles apologetically at you. You pout a bit, your shoulders sinking slightly in disappointment.

“Well… Can I get the most non-alcohol tasting drink with alcohol in it?” You ask, causing the girl to laugh a bit.

Michael’s interest is piqued further now, he thinks you’re just about the prettiest thing that’s ever come and forced itself upon his lap—and he’s thanking all his lucky stars you had. “She’ll take a tequila sunrise” he speaks up, smiling at the bartender, then you. “Put it on my tab” he adds.

At this, you turn to the mystery man who’s buying you alcohol—and whose lap you’re practically sat atop of. “If you think this means you’re getting your dick wet tonight, you’re insane… I hope you know” you hum softly.

Michael smirks a bit as he eyes you up and down. “Let me get this straight… You invade my personal space… practically sit on my lap… and then I’m insane for wanting to get my dick wet?” He lets out a genuine belly laugh at this, gazing at you.

Your face heats with embarrassment, finally realizing the position you’re in as you pull back and sit in the seat beside him. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t… Uh…” You stammer, shaking your head nervously.

He smiles at this, gently tipping your chin up. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it” he mutters lowly, kissing the corner of your lips. “To answer your question,” he sips his beer, “no hun, don’t wanna get my dick wet” he shakes his head. “I’d like to chat a bit if that’s alright?” He tries. “If not, you can just take the drink and be on your way.” He nods.

You smile softly as you finally get a good look at him. He’s cute… Sweet. He kinda reminds you of a kitten. “Well… I suppose you did just buy me a drink” you smile softly. “And I could never in good conscience sit on a strange bar man’s lap and not offer him something in return” you joke softly as you make yourself comfortable.

The bartender brings your drink over quickly and you smile, thanking her as she sets it in front of you. “So… What brings you to this skimpy little dive bar?” You ask Michael.

“A beer” he smirks, holding up said drink. “And you?” He reciprocates.

“Apparently a tequila sunrise, Mr. Mystery Man” you giggle softly.

“Mr. Mystery Man?” He raises a brow—questioning, curious. In truth, he’s a bit shocked you don’t know who he is—but simultaneously thankful that he can just be himself. “I like that, Tequila Girl.” He jokes back.

“Tequila Girl is a new one” you hum softly, sipping your drink. “WOW! That is really good” you emphasize as you look over at him.

“Well I’m glad you like it, Tequila Girl” he smiles—soft but prideful as he lifts his glass bottle and tips it towards you. You clink your glass against his botte and smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Mystery Man” you say genuinely.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ°

Mr. Mystery Man—Michael, you had learned to be his name—was an excellent conversationalist. Not only that, he was easy to talk to. Charming, funny, smart—and extremely good looking.

The two of you fell into an easy conversation—about video games, cars, hobbies, music, your dreams, his dreams, you even delved a bit into each other’s backgrounds. The two of you became so absorbed in talking to each other that your drinks were long forgotten—until the bartender was telling you it was last call.

“Would you like to come hang out at my hotel?” Michael asks as you lift your purse onto your shoulder. “It’s been amazing talking to you, and I… Don’t want the night to end yet” he smiles—shy for the first time that evening.

That seals the deal for you—this guy could absolutely not get any cuter. You hum, pretending to think for a second before offering him a cute smile. “Only if you let me borrow more comfortable clothes” you nod, looking down at your short, sparkly sequined black dress and high heels.

“It’s a deal” he smiles back, nodding as he takes your hand. If you weren’t so infatuated with the man’s scent and eyes, you’d have noticed him hiding your face as he leads you out of the parking lot and up to a big black Range Rover. You’d been swooning over Michael all night, but when he opens your door and holds your hand to help you step into the truck, you downright fall in love on the spot.

The drive to his hotel is short, only about 15 minutes from the bar. When he opens your door for you and helps you out, you finally realize that for some reason or other he’s still hiding you in his jacket. You let out tipsy little giggles as you stumble a bit over your stilettos, walking so close to him. “Why am I hiding in here?” You whisper.

“I’ll tell you in the morning… Deal?” He hums softly, rubbing your back as you get into the elevator. “Just keep your head down, pretty girl” he hums, kissing the back of your head as you two step into the elevator.

For the moment you’re thankful your head is down because if you think your face was warming up as he calls you ‘pretty girl,’ then it’s damn near on fire as his lips press to your head. “Okay…” You whisper in a slight daze, your head swimming with lust and attraction. The two of you stand in the elevator for what feels like eternities, and when you step off, you see that you’re on the 60th floor.

“Room 60-304, love. Here we are” he smiles as he unlocks the door with his key card. You hold in a gasp as you step into the room, stilettos clicking against the marble floor.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, spinning around slowly as you glance at everything. He smiles softly, watching you twirl around the room. “Oo, Krispies!” You exclaim in excitement, rushing over to the mini bar. You reach forward, but pull your hand back a bit, remembering hotels charge for practically everything you touch.

“Go for anything you want, beautiful” he smiles softly, nodding in reassurance. You squeal in excitement, reaching forward once more and grabbing the Rice Krispies Treat. If he had to, Michael would pinpoint this moment in time as the first time he truly fell in love. “I’ll be right back hun, I’m gonna get ya some comfortable clothes.”

You smile softly around the treat in your mouth, nodding as you look at him. He then retreats to the bedroom, and you walk to the couch, making yourself comfortable. Michael was back within ten minutes, now shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants. He held a pair of basketball shorts and a large t-shirt in his hands for you, neatly folded as he held the stack out to you. “Thanks Mikey” you smile softly, wiping your Krispies crumbs on your dress as you take the clothes and go change in the bathroom.

He sits on the couch, flipping through for a movie as he waits for you to come back. Michael begins to worry when you take longer than ten minutes, and just as he’s about to go and check on you, you come out—hair wet, face cleaned and refreshed, and body swimming in his clothes. Michael never in his life would have imagined that the sight of a woman wearing comfortable clothes would turn him on this much.

He’s unsure if it’s because it’s his clothes, or if it’s because it’s you in his clothes… Or maybe it’s just you. But no matter, he’s fighting for nearly his life to hide the large boner straining against his sweatpants as he watches you walk over and sit on the couch. “Sorry… I felt sticky and wanted a shower” you explain shyly.

“Don’t apologize” he smiles softly. “Feel better?” He asks, smiling again as you nod. “Here, love” he hums, passing you a water bottle.

“Thanks, Mikey” you smile, taking a sip of your water. “So the accent tells me you’re clearly not from here… What brings you to town?” You ask curiously as you sit criss-cross applesauce and turn to face him.

“Would you believe me if I said vacation?” He asks, humming as he turns to face you.

“Honestly, not really. But mainly cus I live here so it’s so boring to me” you giggle. “How’s your vacation so far?” You smile.

“It’s only day one but I’d say it’s going really good so far” he smiles. “Have you lived here your entire life?” He asks you, causing you two to delve into your backgrounds and a bit of family history. It’s then when you realize you could listen to Michael speak for hours, even if he just spoke in circles.

You don’t even realize you’re not paying attention to him until a smirk begins to play on his lips. “What?” You whisper, blushing as you finally make eye contact with him.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl” he hums softly. “Or… Were you not paying attention?” He taunts.

“I… No I was paying attention” you pout softly. “I was just… thinking” you mumble lamely, biting your lip and racking your brain for what question Michael possibly could have asked you. Going with the safest probability you hum and look up at him. “Yes” you nod.

Michael’s smirk widens, and he snorts a bit over an attempt to bite back a laugh. “Yes?” He asked softly, raising a brow.

“Don’t laugh!” You insist, crossing your arms with a frown. “What’s so wrong about it?” You huff.

“My love…” your face burns in embarrassment at the nickname, forcing back a smile. “I asked you what you like to do for fun,” he hums softly. Your face burns hotter now, realizing you’d been caught not paying attention. Maybe he doesn’t know why you’re not focusing on his words. This thought saves you from your embarrassment untill he proceeds to ask: “What’s got you so distracted, kitten?”

You whine softly at the petname, your hips shifting. “Mikey…” You whisper softly, looking up at him with wide, dazed eyes.

“Oh baby… You want it, don’t you?” He mocks, moving closer to you as he pushes your hair behind your ear. You nod, pouting at him as you reach to touch him. He tuts softly, shaking your head as he holds your wrists. “No my love… tell me what you want” he smirks.

You whine again, frowning at him. “Mikey…” You insist, trying to wriggle free. Michael, however, is having none of it. He raises a brow, doubling down as he stares at you with a fiery gaze. You get lost in the green of his pretty eyes, tugging your lip between your teeth as you whine a bit. “Want you, please…” you whisper.

“Awh honey… Just a few hours ago you were calling me insane for wanting to get my dick wet and now you’re practically begging for it” he mocks, pinching your cheek tauntingly. “You’re so cute” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing up your jaw.

“But you need to be louder” he orders. A gentle one, but assuring you knew that he was in charge, and you’d follow his orders for the night. Not that you had any qualms about that… This beautiful man that you’d met no more than four hours ago could throw you around like a ragdoll and you’d sing praises to his name without him having to ask.

“I want you… Mikey, I need you. Know you can make me feel really really good… Want it pretty please” you look up at him with a cute pout. The innocent look in your eyes has Michael’s cock twitching in his pants, biting his lip and groaning at your pathetically cute whiny voice.

Michael would be lying if he said watching you beg for him didn’t inflate his ego just a bit. There was a ton of guys in that bar tonight, hell the rest of his band was in that bar… but you chose him. You went home with him. He was the man you were about to spread yourself out for, give your body to. The man that you were begging to touch you and make you feel good.

The knowledge of the power he currently holds over you makes his cock even harder in his pants. He groans, giving up on his attempt at keeping composure as he pushes you back against the couch cushions, enveloping your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. You moan against his mouth, arching your back as his hands run over your body. “Pretty little thing” he mumbles as he pulls your shirt off, immediately kissing across your chest.

Michael’s hands are quick, but skillful as well. His fingers calloused due to the years of guitar playing, and you moan as the rough pads pinch at your already hardening nipples. You whine again, your hips bucking, causing your pulsing pussy to grind against his thigh as he fits himself between your legs. “Michael…” You breathe, moaning quietly.

“You make the prettiest noises baby” he murmurs softly, nipping down your neck. “‘Specially when you’re moaning my name” he mumbles, trailing kisses and hickies down your neck, to your chest. “Do it again” he growls quietly.

You gasp softly, arching your back a bit as you follow his orders, moaning his name once more. This time when you do, you lean up directly into his ear, breathing his name quietly as you tug at his hair. Michael groans at the sound of your voice, wrapping his hand around your neck. “Are you a virgin, pretty girl?” He teases.

“No, Daddy” you breathe softly, flushing in complete embarrassment as the honorific easily slips from your lips, your mind slipping quickly into a submissive haze. “I-I’m sorr-“ Michael stops your sentence almost as soon as it starts, squeezing a bit harder at your neck.

“Don’t apologize… Just keep saying it, Kitten” he smirks, leaning down and swallowing the moan that slips past your lips as he kisses you. He runs his hands down your sides, squeezing at your hips before sneaking a hand beneath your basketball shorts. “Did you leave your panties off?” He smirks, rubbing his thumb over the bare slit of your pussy. “Naughty, naughty girl” he tuts softly, shaking his head.

You whine as the pad of his thumb circles your swollen clit, unable to help the jerk of your hips as you grind against his hand. He sucks in air through his teeth as his middle finger pushes into your slippery hole, grunting as he presses down on your tummy a bit. “That’s a tight little hole, baby… Dunno if my cock’s gonna fit in it.” He mocks.

“No… No can make it fit” you moan louder as he pushes another finger into your cunt. “You can make it fit I need it” you whine loudly, arching your back.

“You’re so adorably pathetic” he laughs, crooking his fingers up to hit your gspot. “Keep making those pretty noises for Daddy ‘n maybe I’ll get you nice ‘n wet with my mouth before I split you open on this big cock.” He chuckles.

“Yes” you moan, nodding. “Yes, please,” you whine, fucking yourself on his fingers. “Oh fuck Daddy, please” you moan, circling your hips on his fingers. “Y’make me feel so good… Stretching me so good” you moan. By this point, your moans have become practically incoherent, stringing any word you could think of together in an attempt to form a sentence as you fuck youreelf on his hand.

Michael can’t take it anymore. Your whines and begs nearly have him busting out of his pants before he’s tearing off your’s. He groans at the sight of your bare cunt, pushing your legs up to your chest before diving in. He moans, spitting on your cunt before licking a bold stripe from your weeping hole up to your pulsing clit. You whine, your hands flying to his hair and pushing his face impossibly closer to your cunt.

His beard drags against your sensitive pussy lips as his mouth envelops your cunt. You’re whining out his name, leaking into his mouth as tears of pleasure leak from the corner of your eyes. You’re nearly sent over the edge as his lips wrap around your fat clit, puckering as he roughly sucks at the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling circles around it.

You whine loudly as you feel his fingers push into your entrance once more, a moan from him sending a shockwave to your cunt and igniting each nerve in your body causing your toes to curl and a loud moan to spill over your kiss-swollen lips. When you look down, you see Michael’s left hand wrapped around his thick cock. The head red and angry, dripping precum down onto the cushions of the couch as his hand strokes over it in quick motions. He’s grunting and groaning into your pussy, getting off on the taste of your and the sound of your moans alone.

Both of your heads are swimming in lust, Michael lost in his head as his ego inflates like a balloon hearing the amount of pleasure he’s causing you. The sound of him eating your cunt is filthy, making you impossibly wetter as you hear Michael’s slurps and grunts as he drinks from your cunt as if it’s a fountain of eternal youth. You tug at his long pink locks, the whiny little ‘Daddy’s spilling from your lips spurring him on as he moves faster. “Oh Daddy… Daddy please ‘m gonna cum” you whine, arching your back as you push his face even closer.

Michael chuckles as he pulls back, causing a perturbed whine to spill from your lips as you pout at him. “Oh baby… As much as I'd love to lick this little pussy until you cum… I wanna feel you squeezing my cock while you cum for me” he growls in your ear as he runs his cock through your slit.

Your hips buck as the head of his leaking cock nudges against your clit. Mikey pulls his lip between his teeth, taking a breath to calm himself as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight cunt. You whine at the stretch, pouting at him with wide eyes as your legs spread. “Please, Daddy…” you gasp.

“Fuck, Kitten” he groans as he slowly pushes his dick into you. “This tight cunt is gonna make me burst…” he grunts. “Gonna fuck this little pussy raw… Fill you up with my cum, pretty girl. Would you like that?” He taunts, moaning as he bottoms out, pressing down on your tummy.

“Yeah” you whimper. “Yeah, I like it a lot. Please” you breathe. Mikey’s awestruck at how quick he’s reduced you to nothing but moans and whines—soft cries of his name spilling from your lips as he fucks you slowly.

“You feel so good baby” he mumbles, his thumb coming to stroke against your clit. “Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had” he groans, pushing your leg up over his shoulder. You whine loudly as he pulls out and thrusts in once more, his cock kissing your gspot as your hips twitch.

“Big” you moan back, arching your back into him as he pulls your nipple between his lips. “Big-biggest… Big” you whine dumbly as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Michael chuckles at how pathetic you sound, squeezing at your throat as his hips pick up the pace, chasing his impending orgasm as he licks, sucks, and bites at your nipples. “Whose pussy is this baby?” He teases, smoothing your hair back as he holds you close to him. “Tell Daddy who you belong to ‘n I’ll let you cum.”

You whine, clenching tightly around him as more arousal spills from your cunt, making your opening more slippery and allowing Michael easier access to fuck you as he pleased. “I know you want to, baby… I feel your little cunt squeezing me… Tryin’ to milk me dry” he groans, his forehead falling to your shoulder as sweat drips off of him. “All you gotta do is tell me who you belong to, Kitten, Daddy’ll let you cum” he cooes mockingly, gently stroking over your clit.

Your voice is stuck in your throat, your jaw dropped in pleasure as you practically fight to breathe. You choke over a loud moan, your nails clawing down his back as you look into his pretty green eyes. Then and only then do you finally find a voice as his cock presses to your gspot. “You” you finally choke out loudly. “It’s yours… Your pussy I… It belongs to you!” You whine. “Oh fuck please let me cum, please!” You beg, your legs shaking as you try to hold off for him.

“Only because you beg so so pretty, Kitten” he smiles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as you moan. He holds your hip with his hand, keeping you pressed against his chest as he strokes over your clit. “Come on baby… Cum for Daddy ‘n I’ll fill you up” he whispered softly. “Keep your eyes on me baby, don’t close them” he hums, his hips stuttering as you squeeze around him.

You nod dumbly, your forehead pressed against his as you blink slowly. You swallow hard, your jaw dropping as your eyes roll back. “I’m… I’m… Cumming, ‘m cumming” you gasp around whines, your body shaking as you cum around Michael’s cock.

He groans as he feels the way you squeeze him, your cunt becoming impossibly tighter as he ruts into you. A cacophony of whines, moans, cries, and whines spill from your lips—your eyes never once breaking contact with Mikey’s as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Th-thank…” you gasp, your eyes rolling as you feel Mikey’s hips stuttering, his cock twitching against your gspot a few times before he presses his hips to your’s. His pelvis kisses your clit as the head of his cock kisses your cervix, spraying his cum deep into your awaiting womb as he lets out a symphony of moans.

He holds you to his chest as he cums, leaning in to press a passionate kiss to your lips. You let out soft whimpers and whines against his lips as your body twitches against his. He pulls back slowly, smiling lovingly as he smoothes your hair back. “Such a good girl, baby” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your head.

You hum softly as you smile lazily at him. “Thank you, Daddy…” you whisper quietly, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“You’re so welcome, pretty girl” he smiles, kissing your nose gently as he pulls out slowly. “Now, let’s get you a bath.”

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ

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#nsfw.nani #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford x you #michael clifford x yn #michael clifford x y/n #michael clifford smut #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford angst #michael clifford x reader smut #michael clifford fic #michael clifford fanfic #michael clifford fanfiction #michael clifford blurb #michael clifford dialogue #michael clifford headcanon #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford drabble #michael clifford #fem!reader

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epiphainie · 3 months

Note

Hey, I know you said you don't wanna get into fandom discourse so feel free to ignore this but I wanted to add something to you metioning yesterday how people talk about Bucktommy always bringing in bvddie/eddie somehow. I feel like a lot of people also expect this from canon including Bucktommy fans? like all the posts about which one will feel like the third wheel or which one's gonna get jealous over the other two spending time together and I find that kind of weird. I don't know if I got my point across but you know what I mean?

Hi anon,

Yeah, I think I get what you mean. Gotta say what I saw in my little corner of the BuckTommy fandom, people are usually having fun with those situations/headcanons than actually expecting something out of canon. But I can guess how a certain part of the fandom really thinks how Buck's relationship with Eddie in the context of BuckTommy must be addressed by the show. And I agree with you in that I find this expectation odd because why must they?

Is it because Buck is into men now that his significant other must address how he is/isn't okay with his friendship with another man? This was never an issue or even a topic of conversation in the narrative for Taylor so I cannot think of any other reason for why it would be for Tommy. Or on the flip side, is it because Buck is dating a man now that Eddie will feel like his time with Buck is being limited? Buck has been in a relationship for the most part of their friendship, why would this one be different that the narrative would need to address it?

I think in general in the fandom, regardless of whether people ship them or not, there's this sentiment that Bvddie has such a special relationship that needs to be addressed by their romantic partners / lampshaded by the narrative which strikes me as odd. Not because they don't have a special relationship - they have a very special relationship - but because the perception and related expectations over how the canon should treat this relationship is very different from something like say Hen and Chim. For every very intense Buck and Eddie story beat in this show, you have an equally insane Hen and Chim one. But you don't see anyone reading that relationship as something that needs to be acknowledged (as a threat or something they're okay with) by their spouses. It's an emotionally codependent friendship between a straight man and a lesbian. Not that sexual compatibility matters but they are not interested in each other that way and their partners don't even think about that.

So why would this be any different for Buck (a bi man) and Eddie (a straight man)? Like, even the idea that it must be acknowledged differently by the narrative kinda brings me back to negative stereotypes about queer men and their straight friends even though I know most people don't mean it that way.

Honestly, I kinda think it just comes back to fandoms' urge to read the intensity of relationships as romantic when it comes to two attractive men in a way we don't do with other characters. I say we because I've had my share of fandoms and almost exclusively shipped the two guys who were not canon; we just read more into these relationships regardless of whether we actively ship it or not. Like I said, Hen and Chim have some of the insanest relationship moments in this show. Like, can you imagine if something like Jonah happened to Buck and he thinks he's gonna hurt Tommy to get to him but he actually has Eddie and tortures him in front of Buck? Or if Eddie opposes Buck and Tommy getting married like Hen did with Maddie, for example. They would most certainly be read as romantic even if we had the same textual explanation as we did with Hen and Chim.

But the truth is, there is no relationship hierarchy. Platonic relationships can be as deep as romantic ones, what sets them apart is not the degree to how intense they can be, it's the flavor. And as it stands, I don't think the show treats Buck and Eddie's relationship with any different flavor than it does Hen and Chim despite how we treat it in the fandom. And sure, this does not mean realistically no love interest would be weirded out by their friendship (and negative stereotypes about bi people exist in the lgbtq community as well so that could happen too) but I don't see why the narrative would need to go there with Tommy. Like, what would be the purpose of it in-story? The acknowledgment of it would just further perpetuate the queer man in love with his bff thing that we know they said they don't wanna do. They should (and imo will) treat it as they do treat the other platonic relationships on the show.

I'm sorry, this got derailed at one point but whatever, send.

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ninapi · 6 months

Text

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Better Half ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Nobara forced Yuuji to stop by a food stand every time they came back from a mission. The girl working there always entranced the youngster, causing his teammates to tease him more than usual. An odd encounter brings her a little too close to Sukuna who ends up just as smitten as his counterpart with the young beauty. Which half will get her heart? Only time will tell.

Word Count: 2381

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Old sweet Nobara…

She might be a good friend, sweet, loving teammate, yeah all that and more…but Yuuji had reasons to hate her, as much as he had reasons to love her.

Nobara loved the colorful streets of Tokyo more than anything in her life, she lived for the very little time she had to indulge in the magic of the alleys, though, every time they came out of a particularly tough mission, she would beg her loving teammates to stop by her favorite crepe stand.

“Oh c’mon! Like you don’t like going there as much as I do…More even…”

“I beg to differ…” Megumi plopped on a near by bench hoping that would stop her from walking any further.

“Ok, maybe you don’t. Cuz you’re a grandpa. But Itadori is a different story, isn’t it mate…?” her suggestive smirk made Yuuji uncomfortable to say the least.

“I mean…their crepes are really nice…so fluffy…and…flavorful…” his voice was low, so much more than his usual boisterous one, it was comical.

“Oh yeah, fluffy…definitely…” this made his cheeks turn crimson, his fidgeting getting in Megumi’s nerves.

“Gotta pee or something?”

“NO!”

“He’s just eager to see his lovely crush.”

“So he does like her, huh? I guessed as much to be honest...” heaving a defeated sigh, he got up from the bench being the one leading the team now on their way to the delicious smelling food stand.

“W-where are you going Fushigoro?!” Yuuji trailed after his friends that were currently sharing a mischievous grin like a lost little baby duck.

“Kinda hungry, man…”

“You should try the chicken one, it blew my mind…”

“GUYS! Can you stop for a second?”

“Of course not.”

The sigh that left the pink haired male made them burst into a flush of evil laughter, his sad puppy eyes and frown making him look adorable which just made it all worse for him.

“Aw, baby Itadori needs a hug. Shall we communicate his needs to the cute lady crepe chef?”

“Her name is (Y/N).”

“What? How do you know that Fushigoro? Do you like her too?”

“Too, huh? She has a name tag you moron…”

“Oh….really? I mean…”

“You mean to say you haven’t even glanced at her boobies? Wow, this is worst than I thought, I think he’s in love~” Nobara skipped her way over to the stand, dramatically moving her hands as she was a maiden in distress.

“I hate her…” his puppy eyes turned watery as he shared a look with Megumi.

“Nah…you don’t. Let’s catch up before she really tells her to hug you-“ he hadn’t even finished his sentence when Yuuji was already behind Nobara, a desperate look on his face.

“Ugh, HI!” a high pitch little scream left him, making him even more flustered, your cute giggles making him feel ridiculously happy for some reason.

“Hi~ You want the usual?” He had a usual? He realized he’s never really ordered anything, he just stares at your face from the moment he arrives until he leaves.

“Sure! It’s the best flavor ever!”

Nobara looked up with a raised eyebrow as she adds his order on the screen, “Strawberry cheesecake?”

Is that what he always ate? It was certainly good, girly as hell, but good. “Yeah, I mean is so fluffy, you should try it too, Kugisaki.”

“If you say so, I’ll get one of those then. How about you, Fushigoro? Chicken?” he just nodded, staying silent in the background assessing the situation from afar. He noticed how you’d smile at Itadori a tiny bit brighter than you did to Kugisaki, your pretty eyes sparkled so much that it made him blush, and that, was weird.

Your hands brushed Yuuji’s when you handed him his crepe, then placed the other two in a carrier and gave it over to Nobara. It was very unnecessary, yet you seemed to know how he’s always so hungry and eager, like you knew he wouldn’t wait until he arrived at a place to eat it peacefully, as if he was dying to bite onto it as soon as possible.

And right you were, his first bite was something else… his nose ended up full of wiped cream and that dorky smile of his full of crumbles.

You didn’t have to do anything about it, but you did. You leaned over the counter window and got it off his face with a wet tissue, the adoring smile you had on your face not easily missed by both of his friends.

“Sorry to break the lovey-dovey moment, but Gojo-sensei is waiting for us. We must eat them before he finds out we’ve been eating sweets without him.” she grabbed onto Yuuji’s elbow, dragging him with her like a dog on a leash.

“Ugh…(Y/N)! Thanks! It’s as good as always and I’m so clean now! Feels great! You're the best, your boss should give you a rise or something!”

“Oh for fuck sakes…shut up Itadori…you're embarrassing...”

He was now being dragged away from you by both of his embarrassed friends. His smile though, never leaving his face, just like yours didn’t for the rest of the day.

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“You went where??” Gojo was pacing back and forth in the classroom, lack of sugar being pretty evident in his current behavior making them feel even guiltier.

“We just made a little pit stop on the way, gotta eat too, you know?"

“You didn’t just make a ‘pit stop’…you went to my favorite crepe stand…and didn’t bring me anything….you’re such a soulless bunch of brats…it’s unbelievable…I’m so good with you all and you just…” his sulking increased even further, making Nobara giggle.

“You’re such a drama queen, sensei…”

“King, you mean. King of the world~”

“Ugh, I’m out of here…”

“So what’s wrong with Itadori?” stealing the last bit of his defenseless student’s crepe, Gojo sat on his chair, feet resting on his teacher desk.

“He’s in love…with an older woman…”

“She’s not an older woman!” the little snarl he gave Nobara was one that would rival a feisty tiny chihuahua, but it gave Gojo a pretty good idea of how serious this whole thing was.

“So, who’s this older woman?”

“The crepe stand girl.”

“Oh, ok Itadori’s right, she’s not an older woman…maybe a couple of years older than you at most. She’s a part-timer I believe.” the look in Yuuji’s eyes changed immediately, turning into a soft dreamy one.

“Though, you might want to keep yourself at bay, Itadori. Must I remind you the king of curses lives within you? Just thinking of sweet little (Y/N) being in danger makes me feel sick…” his words were harsh and made Yuuji recoil, he knows this, all too well, but there was no need to worry as much, is not like he was planning on confessing or something.

Without giving as much as a reply to his superior, Yuuji just left the classroom and hid himself in his own room for the rest of the day.

It was so frustrating to him how he couldn’t even have a crush, how much this curse has affected his life and how much he sometimes wished he would get to be a normal teenager once more.

To make things worse, Sukuna has been listening all this time…

Falling in love made Yuuji weak, his defenses were slowly disappearing and his mind was just somewhere else, the perfect timing to go for a little ride.

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Another mission came along the next day, it was an easy reckoning one, over after an hour or so, there was no excuse to go for crepes and for that Yuuji was grateful.

However, Sukuna himself had other plans.

Yuuji’s depressed aura as they walked past the street you worked at was the final push necessary for him to take full control of his host’s body.

“Itadori, how about we get some ice crea-

Itadori?

Fushigoro…Itadori’s gone-“ looking around desperately there was no sign at all of their teammate.

“What? What do you mean gone?” turning around just as desperate, all he could see was a dust cloud, proof he had been there not long ago, but not just of that, but also of the fact that he had left at an incredible speed.

The amount of cursed energy coming from down the road overwhelmed the young sorcerer, his face paling instantly. “Kugisaki….Sukuna…he’s…he’s here…”

“Tch, of course, he loves coming out when Gojo-sensei isn’t here…What do we do now?”

Megumi’s face was worrying her, he’s not someone to show fear easily, it also meant he had no clue of what to do next and she wasn’t great at this sort of impromptu life saving plans.

“What’s wrong, Fushigoro? Is he going too far this time?”

He just nodded, swallowing his anxiety down, “The crepe stand…”

Now that was playing dirty…he would for sure harm you if that meant getting full control of Itadori’s body, the perfect token for blackmail.

With a frown and unshared words, both ran towards the direction emanating the ridiculous amounts of cursed energy.

Though, what they found at the scene was beyond their expectations.

You were leaning on the window, like you usually do to get closer to Yuuji, like if nothing was out of the ordinary, like he didn’t have a completely different appearance and voice, making Megumi frown with distaste.

While he was fully concentrated on your safety, Nobara had her eyes on Sukuna. Saying his demeanor was odd, would be an understatement.

His smirk was wide, his eyes mischievous, his elbows were leaning on the same windowsill as you were, his face inches from yours. “My lovely angel, would you be willing to go to the depths of hell with me? I mean, hypothetically of course…” his words made you giggle and blush.

In all honesty, you did notice the change, though you didn’t question it much, is not like you had knowledge of curses, therefore the idea of your crush being possessed by an evil curse never crossed your mind.

“Is hell a nice place?”

“It isn’t. But I would make it comfortable for you if you do agree to come with me…”

Megumi’s blood ran cold and without thinking much he grabbed Sukuna by his elbow pulling him away from you, “Itadori…you’re scaring (Y/N)…”

Truth is, he wasn’t though.

You had a delighted face while talking to him and the flirting has been mutual the entire time.

While Yuuji’s real and sweet persona made your heart skip a beat with his cute shyness, Sukuna’s assertive and even commanding self made your knees weak.

You didn’t really understand his change in demeanor and you even considered him having double personality, but the truth was simple, you liked both sides equally, and didn’t mind one bit if he indeed had it, he at least seemed to remember you in both states.

But you went along with Megumi’s act, as he looked quite disturbed and worried, he did know him better than you after all.

Megumi’s words seemed to stir something inside Itadori, his eyes switching from a harsh scowl to a soft worrying misty look. He was struggling to gain control back since he really didn’t want to harm the woman he loved and he knew very well what Sukuna was capable of.

“What are you talking about, brat? You like this side of me much better, don’t you gorgeous?” his playful wink made you swoon, causing Itadori’s stomach to sink just a bit.

“I like every side of you. Though, why the face painting? Are you guys performing art students?”

“Something like that…now If you excuse us, we won’t be getting any crepes today, we need to take him home, he needs a bit of…ugh…rest.”

“Think about it babe, alright? If you so wish to, I’ll make you my queen.”

After his last statement, Yuuji finally managed to wake up and gather his bearings, he felt like crap and had no energy left within his body. With an arm around each of his friends, he was able to get back to the academy in one piece, though, his heart had taken a harsh blow.

You liked Sukuna…but you also liked him?

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Masterlist

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teardrop-scales · 11 months

Note

Heyo saw your LMK sun wukong post and I love your writing!

Can you make general dating headcanons?

I love him sm he’s so silly :3.

Sun Wukong dating/relationship headcannons 🍑

A.N: Thank you for your kind words! And same, he's so goofy and I love him for it <3

Also, these turned out quite long (and I probably could've made them even longer, given how much I love this character), but I think/hope that you won't mind lol.

Also, not proofread, so sorry about any mistakes! Headcannons are below the cut.

First of all, he definitely calls you 'Peaches' or 'Peach' like, all the time. He will only call you by your name if he wants to show you that he's serious. Also he will occasionally use other nicknames, such as 'babe', 'honey', 'sweetheart'. But that's rare, 'Peaches' is still his favorite.

You are probably the only person he's willing to share his peach flavored chips with.

Also, he's kinda clingy and touch starved as hell. Can you really blame him though? This monkey was pretty much all alone for a few centuries.

So Wukong is almost always touching you in some kind of way when you are near him, even when you're somewhere public or not hugging or cuddling. Either hand holding, or he will curl his tail around your ankle or some more subtle things like that.

He will often groom your hair in search for bugs the way monkeys do if you sit next to each other. He knows you take good care of your hair and there's absolutely no way any bugs or insects could be in it. But it's an instinct, he can't help it. You don't mind however, he's so gentle when he does that that it's actually very relaxing.

He's touch starved to the point when if you have to get up while cuddling, he will whine quietly. But if you ask/tease him about it, Wukong will huff and deny it while claiming that you're just hearing things.

I have a headcannon that while he is very strong and all, his body isn't actually that muscular. In fact, he is a bit chubby. He's quite soft and squishy in a good way- I mean just look at him in the beach scene in season 4, he totally has a 'dad bod'- and you love it. Wukong's body is perfect for hugging.

I imagine his hugs being just the right amount of tight 👌 He's always warm and soft and actually smells really good- he smells of peaches and leaves.

Wukong loves hugging and being hugged, so you can hug him almost whenever you feel like it and he absolutely won't mind.

Call him Sunshine or Sunny or anything Sun related. Please do, he will literally melt.

Overall, Wukong's main love languages are: words of affirmation, quality time and touch.

We already know from the show that Wukong has no problem with words of affirmation, seeing how he constantly encourages MK and it is visible that he means every word. So this monkey will always and often tell you that he loves you and that you mean so much to him. You can count on him if you want some kind words to make you feel better. He may not be the best in terms of logical advice, but somehow you believe him every time he says it's going to be okay. Wukong also makes sure to tell you each day how good you look and say "I love you" at least once a day.

As for quality time, Sun really loves to spend time with you, it doesn't matter what activity. Although he prefers activities either at home or away from big crowds. He doesn't like to show himself in public spaces, the most he'll do is go with you to the cinema or maybe some not very well known restaurant or something. But he really loves to watch movies on his TV or laptop with you snuggled up to him on the couch. Wukong also loves taking you on walks around Flower Fruit Mountain or taking you for flights on his cloud. Honestly, as I said, to him it doesn't really matter what you do as long as he gets to spend time with you.

I already said some things about touch, but I can add that for some reason Wukong loves when you scratch him behind the ears, boop/gently pet his nose with your finger or pet his tail. These parts of him are quite sensitive, and he loves how gentle you are. He will literally turn into a puddle in your hands lol.

This monkey loves kissing you on the cheeks. Or poking you on them.

Generally when he's in the right mood he likes to teasingly poke you in various places on your body. And if you do it right back at him, it turns into either a poking or tickling battle, ending up with both of you laughing your butts off and snuggling with each other.

Sun sometimes likes to rub his cheek against yours.

Okay enough touch for now, I could go on and on about Wukong and physical affection lmao

You sometimes watch your boyfriend train MK when you have the time. You roll your eyes often at Wukong's smugness but at the same time you can't help but think how cool and badass he can be.

The Monkey King loves it when you watch them train, MK not so much, due to the fact that Wukong shows off a lot more when you are around and thus he is a bit harsher in training and more distracted, making it difficult for poor MK (that doesn't change the fact that MK really likes you and appreciates how happy you make his mentor).

This man is such a tease and a flirt sometimes honestly. He uses the most basic and overrated pick up lines just to annoy you. Be careful not to get flustered by any, because he won't ever let you forget it and will be proud as a peacock. Although it is slightly adorable that he's so proud that he got you flustered.

But sometimes you engage in his pick up lines shenanigans and tease him back or make fun of those lines.

"Did it hurt when you fell from the Celestial Realm Peaches?"

"Yeah, it hurt like hell, I landed on my butt."

Causing you both to laugh your butts off for a few solid minutes lmao.

Peaches or peach chips are the main things he eats, so prepare for always having a peach taste in your mouth after kissing him. Not that you complain, you actually like that fruit (although not as much as Wukong does).

By the way, he will absolutely swoon if you kiss him in front of other people out of nowhere (especially if you pull him by his shirt in order to do that); lovesick smile, dreamy eyes and tail shaped like a heart, the whole package lol.

Sometimes Sun likes to visit you at work or randomly pop in while you're somewhere public in the form of a bird or other small animal and just hang out with you, whispering comments about everyone and everything into your ear in this funny high pitched voice (I actually have a headcannon that while transforming his voice is higher the smaller the animal and the other way around)

If you're up for it, Wukong would love to teach you a few fighting or defense techniques. It would also make him much more relaxed and calm knowing that you have at least some basic knowledge on how to protect yourself, just in case. He'll always try to be there to protect you, but he can't promise that he will always make it on time or at all. He may be retired but still has some duties and other things to do.

A bit of a sad thing is, you both often think to yourselves; am I good enough for him/her? How in the world did I deserve such an amazing person as him/her in my life?

Wukong always tries to be happy, and hides his problems, fears or negative emotions behind his jokes and goofy attitude. I'm not saying that his personality is fake, he is a happy and goofy person most of the time, but there are some random days when he has trouble keeping it all in and fails to put on the facade that everything is okay.

If you want to help him in these times, basically all you have to do is sit there with him and be by his side. Give him a tight hug and sit with him in silence or maybe hum/sing something quietly if you want. Honestly your presence alone brings him a huge comfort; knowing that there is someone who loves him even with all his flaws, accepts him with everything he hides inside and with his past mistakes.

Overall, Sun Wukong has his problems and flaws, but he really tries to be the kind of boyfriend he thinks you deserve. And honestly you think he's doing a very good job; he is a very good boyfriend, maybe even the best in all the realms as you like to say <3

#the monkey king #lmk x reader #lmk #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong #monkey king x reader #lmk monkey king x reader #lmk monkey king

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