#simmer clams

[trippin-bad]

Main Dishes Recipe

This easy linguine white clam sauce recipe is a snap: Simmer clams, clam juice, and parsley in an olive oil and garlic base, then toss with linguine. Dinner is served!

[landofpleasantliving]

Easy Linguine with White Clam Sauce It's simple to make this linguine with white clam sauce recipe: Linguine is added after simmering the clams, clam juice, and parsley in a base of olive oil and garlic. The meal is ready!

[noosayog]

002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!” 

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly. 

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile? 

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says. 

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble. 

“True. But he is an idiot.” 

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale. 

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.” 

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter. 

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?” 

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?” 

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Why not?” 

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it. 

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you. 

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl. 

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently. 

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in. 

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.” 

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps. 

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating. 

“So, found a guy to take you out?” 

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have. 

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.” 

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this: 

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases. 

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both. 

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?” 

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation. 

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim. 

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant. 

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child. 

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!” 

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently. 

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.” 

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice. 

“‘Samu…” 

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.” 

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you. 

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted. 

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight. 

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on. 

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular. 

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter. 

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.” 

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before. 

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.” 

“Dude, nice try,” you had said. 

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night. 

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break. 

“I’ll walk with ya.” 

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit. 

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time. 

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight. 

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway. 

“I’m onto ya,” he starts. 

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.” 

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you. 

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.  

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face. 

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself. 

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had. 

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway. 

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs. 

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?” 

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes. 

“Who?” you mumble. 

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air. 

“I don’t know… I just…” 

“Are ya still in love with my brother?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. 

Osamu raises his brows. 

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.” 

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?” 

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off. 

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin. 

“I wanna get him back,” you admit. 

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!” 

“Huh?” 

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-” 

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.” 

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation. 

“Osamu…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before. 

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used. 

His question goes unanswered. 

– 

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu. 

It doesn’t make you miss him any less. 

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around. 

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision. 

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock. 

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth. 

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?” 

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter. 

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-” 

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say. 

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-” 

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu. 

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system. 

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone. 

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.” 

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks. 

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act. 

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory. 

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do. 

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-” 

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out. 

“Hey, ‘Samu!” 

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face. 

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope. 

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy. 

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you. 

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly. 

“You just…?” he prompts. 

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself. 

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.” 

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?” 

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him. 

“Missed you,” you whisper. 

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you. 

“And I like you so much, Osamu.” 

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap. 

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?” 

He stops stroking your hair. 

“What, ya don’t like it?” 

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. 

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him. 

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time. 

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?” 

You nod shyly. 

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.” 

“I want it.” 

“Alright. C’mere then.” 

You oblige. 

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck. 

You nod. 

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?” 

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle. 

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.” 

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth. 

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs. 

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

[specshroom]

BLOOD IN THE WATER꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

"How much longer?"

Your current patron meekly asks from his seat behind you.

"Not much longer."

You curtly reassure him.

You should be used to these tourists and their consistent whines but it never seems to get less pathetic. You suppose you shouldn't blame them considering the position they've gotten themselves into, although a bigger part of you just couldn't muster up sympathy for people who are dumb enough to find themselves in the middle of a monster infested lake with a complete stranger at the oar.

That thought breaks you form your daydream and you take a moment to stare at the deceptively clam waters below. You stop your slow rows, bring the gondola to a steady halt and turn to your patron.

"This is your stop."

You fasten the large oar to the hull and step towards the man so that you can look down at him properly.

He looks around at the open water, the mist is so thick he can barely see a few feet Infront of his face much less any semblance of land. He looks back up at you and hesitates before speaking,

"I...payed for the full trip."

You shake your head solomly,

"I only said I could get you on the lake...which I did."

You gesture around to the lake that you both are very much on.

"If you want to get to the other side, that's a seperate trip."

You hold your hand out, clearly indicating what you want. The man's eyebrows scrunch, his eyes go from wide with fear to a heated glare and his hands grip the travel bag he's been cradling.

"You can't do that! We agreed!"

He yells and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand as ripples break in the water all around the gondola. As if he just remembered where he is, the man freezes and lets out a little whimper when he hears tiny splashes in the water right next to him. The small boat rocks side to side as the water vibrates, sounding out the life that dwells beneath it.

The water settles after a few moments of silence and you stand again and look down at the quivering man.

"What choice do you have?"

The tourist heaves out a defeated breathe and digs in his bag to retrieve a sack of coins for the rest of the trip. He hands it to you with an icy glare.

"Is that enough for you?"

He hisses, a little quiver remains in his voice.

You give him a look and continue to count your coins. If you're being honest, you expected more from him. The disappointment must show on your face because he looks just about ready to swing at you before you let out a loud whistle.

Just then several claws burst out of the water and grab him. He shrieks as wet scaly hands cling to his shirt. One by one three heads pop out of the water to leer at his now pale face, drained of any colour once his wide eyes meet the inky black orbs of the creatures holding him down. They bare their sharp teeth as talons sink into his skin making him unable to struggle lest they dig further.

His panicked eyes can only follow you as you start plucking valuables from his pockets and rummaging through his belongings.

From the corner of his eye he can see more of these creatures circling the gondola. Waiting.

You sit down with a huff, slightly rocking the boat as you count and inspect your new plunder.

After a few moments you hear low growls that simmer into whines, you peer up at the multiple black eyes staring at you, waiting for the go ahead. The man's blood is already seeping into their claws and they're practically drooling.

You take pity on the poor creatures and with no more than a final glance at the man you let out another whistle and he's instantly pulled from the boat into the water without time to scream. You huff as the water splashes you, as eager as they are it was a pretty good deal you struck with the creatures, you get the valuables and they get dinner.

As you watch the merfolk fight over their thrashing meal you feel a tug on your sleeve. One of the creatures looks up at you from the surface with intrigue. You give them a questioning look and in response they bring themselves higher over the hull to rather boldly nuzzle at your neck.

You huff in amusement and waste no time grabbing their jaw and kissing their cold but soft lips, caressing their wet cheek with your warm hand. They croon at the warm touch and lick into your mouth.

Another one surfaces the water to place kisses on your neck with a few cheeky nibbles as they cling to your clothes to try and bring your body closer.

You fully indulge in the benefits of your agreement with these creatures as the water around you turns crimson.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

Some more of this!

[hyuk4sbf]

im so glad you’re back!!! i asked this before but can you please write dry humping w/ beomgyu <3

hi!!!!! tysm sorry this took me so long writing is hard >< hope u like it i got a lil carried away w it so hopefully that makes it worth the wait im so sorry again LOL

>nsfw!!!! obvi ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

>word count: 1.6k

>sub!beomgyu x gn!reader

*wrote and edited on phone lmk if theres any mistakes idk T_T

“baby,” beomgyu breathes against your mouth, “baby, i think we should stop.”

you pull away, hands still on the nape of his neck as you eye him with concern. his chest heaves, pupils dilated as his eyes practically memorise every feature to your face.

you’re perched in his lap, lips kiss-swollen, eyes hazy and thighs soft in the palms of his hands. you tilt your head at him, and it makes his throat a little drier.

“sorry, are you okay?” you question, a simmering of guilt beginning to rise in your stomach. you might’ve pushed him too far? you hope not. he swallows, blinking heavily.

“it’s okay, m’okay,” beomgyu tells you, yet he still sounds like he’s had the breath punched out of him. you try to smile a little to reassure him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“we don’t have to keep going but can you tell me what happened?”

beomgyu sputters a little, his ears tinting a pretty red, and he leans his head further into your palm embarrassedly. you thumb over his cheek with a pretty little chuckle.

“i… i don’t know.” he tells you. he watches your expression change, disbelief clear as day. you prod his side a little just to see him jolt and squirm, pout now evident on your mouth.

“don’t lie, beoms,” you whine at him, “tell me what’s wrong so i can fix it.”

he scrunches his face a little, and that’s when you finally feel it. he knows you do, and he does anything to move his hips away from your own. he’s hard.

“oh,” you simply say, and watch as his hands come up to cover his face that flares an alarming red.

“m’sorry,” he babbles, “m’so sorry i didn’t mean to.”

you feel heat in the face, a warmth swirling your stomach as you watch him practically pant for forgiveness. you purse your lips at the shiver that threatens to take over your body. he got hard just from kissing you, your brain continues to alarm you as if hitting you with neon lights. your heart thumps a little louder in your chest, you wonder if beomgyu would be able to hear it if he listened close enough. however, the shy heat you feel radiating from your boyfriend makes you realise perhaps his heart is too loud in his ears to hear anything else.

your mind made up, you gently coax his hands away from his face, the little smile on your lips doing nothing to stop the swoop in beomgyu’s tummy. fuck, you’re so pretty. he feels the sweat that clams his hands, an inner voice chastising him for how pathetic he must look. you haven’t done anything but kiss him, how embarrassing.

but you just continue to shyly smile at him, much like he’s just put the stars in the sky for you rather than get an unwarranted boner for you in his lap. fuck, you’re still in his lap. your hands still hold his, keeping them away from his face. he feels hot all over again.

“it’s okay, baby,” you coo. “i can help.”

i can help. i can help. i can help.

he exhales shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows away how dry it feels. his eyes are caught with yours, flickering between your eyes and your mouth. he really needs to kiss you again, his thoughtful, beautiful lover. the urge falls off his tongue in a needy breath of, “please.”

you coo again, eyes sparkling as you cup his face and lean in to press your lips against his. you press yourself closer to him, shuffling your hips forward.

his reaction is immediate, a hand reaching for one of your thighs. the other curls around the small of your back as he openly whimpers into your mouth. he grasps at you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, pulls you as close as he physically can. you distantly think about what his fingerprints would look like as bruises on your skin.

“do you want it just like this? hm?” you question as you pull away just a tad, “can’t even get my clothes off me, you’re that desperate for anything?” it’s teasing, condescending and you know it, but the way his eyes flutter and he nods obediently gives you enough incentive to keep going. you giggle and pair it with the rough roll of your hips down against his.

at this, beomgyu jolts with a deep moan, so pretty as it catches on a breath, and he starts to chase the friction. his hips move of their own accord, rutting up against you in an desperate pace. you’re more than happy to meet him halfway.

“come on, baby. that’s it.” you lean to whisper against the shell of his ear, “such a good boy.”

he almost can’t breathe through the flame of arousal and pleasure that lick up his spine in thick, hot waves, mixing together in excruciating and intoxicating measures. you feel so good, your skin so soft under his palms, your hot breath wet against his ear, the weight of you on his clothed cock. he does his best to memorise every detail, but the foggy haze of lust proves it a challenge.

“feel so good under me like this,” you tell him, “so big, you’d feel so good inside me, hm? would you fuck me just right? make me feel good too?” the filth spills out of your mouth before you can really stop it. you want to be unsure of where the confidence came from that you could say such things, but nothing’s more reassuring of its origins than the way beomgyu eagerly nods along to every word.

“yes. yes. please, want you to feel good, too. please, baby. wanna make you cum so bad.” he pleads, practically begging as his hand on your back guides you to hump a little harder into him.

you hum, satisfied with his answer and a little gasp catches in your throat at the sudden eagerness he has to grind directly into your own sex. your hands fall to his tummy, and you take the opportunity to slip up his shirt, fingers exploring every sliver of skin that gets exposed to you the higher you hike upwards. you practically leave flames in your wake, his breaths so loud and shaky, skin so hot and slicking up with a sheen of sweat under your touch.

“so cute,” you giggle and you can’t help but to ask, “been thinking about this?”

the boy pants, “all the— ah!… time. think about you coming on my tongue all the time. ah fuck, fuck! you’re so pretty.”

you whimper against his ear, “maybe if you cum for me like this, i’ll let you taste me. think you can do it, beomie?” you reach his chest, and your fingers roll his nipples between them, and somehow he humps into you with a more desperate intent. and god fuck, he whines, louder than he had been, body trembling under yours and hands grasping at your shirt for dear life.

“yes, p…please. i think m’close. please…”

“what is it, honey? what do you need?”

“kiss me. fuck, please kiss me. m’gonna cum.”

your heart thrums in your ears, and you’re quick to oblige, lips smashing against his own in a mess of tongue and teeth.

beomgyu gasps into your mouth, his body seizing, thighs trembling underneath you, and you moan in response at the realisation of the mess he’s making in his pants. his eyes scrunching closed at the pleasure that takes hold of his body, and you keep your hips moving to guide him through it.

your hands push his hair out of his face, your ministrations falling to a complete halt as you start to coax him down from his high. he looks so dazed, but satiated.

your expression easily mirrors his own when his lips stretch into a big, dopey smile at you. “god, you are so hot.”

you playfully land a smack to his arm, and bury your head in his neck as the embarrassment of all you had said starts to set in. his skin is damp and sticky, but you try to hide regardless.

“i’m serious!” he exclaims, “i don’t think i’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

you mumble, “you are so bad at this aftercare stuff.”

you feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, hearty and so himself it makes it hard to believe you had him so pliant just minutes before. the thought hitting you, the close memory of it makes you a little squirmy. he clicks his tongue.

“it’s not aftercare if it’s not over, is it?”

you move from his neck, going to question what he means. the words hitch in your throat as he catches you off guard and uses little to no strength to flip your position. your back hits the mattress with an ‘oomph!’ and you stare up at him wide-eyed.

he grins, toothy and beaming as he leans down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth that hangs agape in surprise. he trails downwards, underneath your jawline and your hands abruptly grasp at his shoulders. your chest heaves a shaky breath.

then, he pulls away, and shifts himself down the bed.

“what are you doing?”

he nudges your shirt up with his hands, and pushes your legs until he can fit between them. there’s a kiss on your tummy, and then a fiddling at the waistband of your pants. beomgyu smiles up at you, eyes sparkling happily as he waits for your permission.

“you said i could taste you.”

[peachesofteal]

i am running around in CIRCLES for the baby trap au. how does darling treat them after she figures it out??? i’m SO IN LOVE WITH THIS

I am running in circles for YOU, Keri, because I love you so! 🩵🩵🩵

Quick note: Every ask is like a fresh AU unless there’s a link. I posted one recently that had Simon basically tranquilizing Darling, that doesn't happen here. It's fun to explore every avenue for the baby trap au, and that's what I'll be doing with these asks, unless the ask is specifically referencing something.

18+ Minors DNI. Mature themes. Pregnant reader.

Dinner looked absolutely foul.

You'd almost, almost, feel bad for thinking it, if you weren't too preoccupied with the tampered birth control that you found in the bathroom drawer earlier. You'd almost feel guilty for sneering at Johnny's cooking, a meal you usually love, but you can't stop thinking about that little foil packet, with it's little sad beige pills all lined in a row, sitting harmlessly in the bathroom drawer, untouched for three months now.

Three months. The number is startling to you, the realization that you are actually three months pregnant with a baby. A small human. That you're growing. That you thought, was total accident. That you thought, was just an innocent occasion, something that happens, sometimes.

Surprise! It's not. It's not at all, if that perfectly pressed piece of foil had anything to say about it, the way it was already lifted from it's edge screaming at you like you were stupid.

And maybe you were stupid. Stupid to think these boys actually loved you, stupid to think they actually cared about you at all. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You can't even rationalize it, this choice, this decision they made. Can't begin to understand it. How could do they do this? How could they decide this for you? Force this upon you?

Johnny clears his throat, expectantly. Like they're waiting on something, and you jerk your head up to glance at the two of them.

"Did ya hear me?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Sorry, uh I was thinking." Your fork pushes the potatoes around on the plate and he frowns.

"No appetite?" Bingo. You can play this off as morning sickness. It's not really lying, considering you feel sick to your stomach anyway.

"Not really."

"Can I make you something else?" He tries, and he looks so eager, so hopeful. So sweet. It confuses you. How could this man, this person that you love, do something so, so wrong to you?

"No, thank you." Simon cocks his head, and you try not to shake in the chair. Simon will know. He'll know something's up. He reads you too well.

"Something on your mind?" He asks, and you shake your head quickly. Too quickly.

"N-no. Just thinking about... baby stuff." Johnny brightens, so happily, like a fucking clam, and you can't help the scowl that crosses your face. They're so fucking happy. So happy, that they took your choice away. Took your autonomy. Like it didn't even matter.

The change in your attitude does not go unnoticed.

"Hey, what is it?" Simon presses, and your fingers tighten around the fork, edges digging into your skin until it bites.

"Nothing, for fucks sake." You hiss, unable to stop yourself, unable to put a damper on your emotions, or your mouth. "Can't I have my own thoughts every now and then? You don't have a right to everything I'm bloody thinking all the time, you know." Johnny freezes, like a deer in headlights, watching you warily while Simon visibly tenses, biceps flexing beneath his t shirt.

"Darling-" He tries, and his tone is truly remorseful. Like he's sorry for setting you off.

You let the fork clatter to the plate when he continues, cutting him off. He looks surprised, mouth slightly agape, while you stare at him from across the table. The air in the room is thick, stagnant with whatever is simmering under the current, whatever it is that's waiting to strike.

"I'm going to lay down." You announce, standing up from the table as fast as you can.

Too fast.

The room spins, and you lurch, before finding your balance, hand thunking against the table to steady yourself. Johnny's up out of his seat in a blink, his reflexes too fast, and he's got an arm around your waist to steady you.

"I've got ya." He moves to pull you into his side, to provide you support, but you blow out a breath and push away.

"I'm fine. Just tired." you don't snap, but the words are brusque, and he flinches. You've never refused his affections, or attentions, ever in the history of your relationship. You close your eyes to take a deep breath. "I want to lay down." He steps away, slowly, and you can feel their eyes on you as you walk into the bedroom.

You slam the door as hard as you can, and then lock it, for good measure. It won't keep them out, but it will give you some privacy for a little while, at least. Enough time for you to have another cry, before you have to face them, and what they've done.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

I Can Take the Upper Hand and Touch Your Body: Part Two

A/N: You thought Cassian was done with Nesta after their office tryst? You thought! He's in the midst of his rut after all! 😉 Anyways! Happy Day 3 of @acotar-omegaverse-week! Nessian may not be "All Tied Up" in the literal sense, but they are in the figurative sense! If tying down a relationship counts. Ba dum tasss. Anywho! Please enjoy!

Read on AO3 // Previous Part // Next Part

Heat pools high in Nesta’s cheeks, embarrassment clamming up her throat and settling like a lump against her windpipe. She straightens out her skirt, trying to smooth out the creases and lines. A finger hooks beneath her chin, raising her face until she meets a pair of hazel eyes, still simmering with a heat all their own. Cassian takes his time, his gaze dancing around her face, before he leans down, connecting their lips in a searing kiss.

Nesta allows it to go on for a moment, but then she pushes him away. They’re already in enough trouble as it is. She turns away fully from Cassian, determined to keep her focus as she re-buttons her blouse and tucks it back into her skirt. She glances around the office, trying to locate where her panties ended up, but they seem to be strangely missing.

“You don’t need those.”

Nesta whirls around with a scowl. “Cassian.”

The alpha doesn’t bother saying anything else. Instead, he grabs his leather jacket, draping it over Nesta’s shoulders. The fabric is surprisingly soft and worn, Cassian’s scent swallowing her as much as the jacket itself on her frame. She turns her head into the collar, breathing in the pine and snow kissed breeze, before she catches herself, returning her glare to Cassian.

“Now you want me to cover up?”

“I don’t want anyone getting any ideas,” Cassian explains, stepping fully into her space and curling his hand around her jaw. “I don’t want anyone scenting anything other than me all over you.” His thumb drags along her bottom lip, hand slipping down until his fingers wrap around her throat instead, Nesta’s breath catching at the gesture. “Want to make sure everyone knows your sweet omega cunt has already been claimed because you’re mine and only mine, Nes.”

Cassian kisses her again, wrapping his free arm around her waist. Nesta moans into his mouth, pressing her thighs together tightly against the slick drawn out from the way he kisses her, from his words. He licks into her mouth, and Nesta has to fist her hands into Cassian’s shirt to hold herself steady. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows that she should care about his possessive, claiming words, but it’s hard to form a single coherent thought when he keeps kissing her like this.

When Cassian finally pulls back, he doesn’t fully release her, instead keeping his arm firmly around her waist. He keeps her tucked to his side as he guides her out of the office and toward the elevators. His grip tightens and he turns to bury his nose amongst the golden brown strands of her hair as they walk through the front atrium of the building and the few lingering souls still there.

They take the second elevator down to the parking garage. With so many already starting their weekend early, the garage is nearly empty, and it’s not hard to spot the black, sleek Audi that Cassian calls his own. The sound of the car unlocking is especially loud in the garage, and before Nesta knows it, Cassian is opening the passenger door, gesturing toward the black and red striped leather seat expectantly.

“And what about my car?” Nesta dares to ask.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure it’s handled,” Cassian explains, dipping his head down and pressing his lips to Nesta’s pulse point until she’s shuddering in his arms. “Now be a good girl and get in the car.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but damn if those words don’t stoke the embers within her again, flames threatening to flare and lick down her veins again. She slips into the passenger seat, trying not to squirm too much at the fresh slick she can feel building between her thighs.

Cassian slides into the driver’s seat, and then they’re off. Nesta tries to keep her focus out the window, keep her focus on the street lamps and traffic lights as they pass, but it’s hard to do when Cassian’s large hand settles on her knee, the warmth of it seeping beneath her skin. His thumb traces tantalizing circles along the inside of her knee, Nesta’s heart skipping over itself with each pass across her skin.

That hand slowly starts to creep higher up her thigh, the drag of the calluses on his palm leaving a trail of goosebumps pebbling in their wake. He doesn’t even pause. Higher still that hand climbs until it’s slipping beneath the hem of her skirt, Nesta’s thighs falling open wider as if of their own accord. He drags two fingers lightly, teasingly, over her, through the slick quickly pooling there, and Nesta tosses her head back with a gasp.

“So responsive,” Cassian praises, repeating the same motion. “And still so wet for me.”

“Cassian,” Nesta moans softly when Cassian’s fingers press against her clit.

“Have I told you how sweet it sounds when you moan my name like that? It might be my new favorite sound.”

Cassian shifts his hand so that he can sink those two fingers into her, and Nesta lets out a cry at the intrusion, her hand shooting down to curl around Cassian’s wrist. If there’s any pain from the way her nails bite into the skin, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he starts to rock those fingers, the pace slow and steady but still enough for fire and pleasure to skitter up Nesta’s spine.

She doesn’t know how he’s able to concentrate, and when she dares to turn her head against the seat, to peer toward him, Cassian has his gaze still pinned on the road, his free hand keeping a firm grip of the steering wheel. Even if that grip is white knuckled.

“You’re meant to be focusing on driving,” Nesta finds her voice to comment. “We’re going to crash.”

“How can I focus on anything else when you’re sitting so deliciously in my front seat? Trust me, sweetheart. This is the only thing keeping me from pulling over and taking you right here.”

Nesta has a well placed retort about that on the tip of her tongue, but it’s lost when Cassian chooses that exact moment to curl his fingers.

“Besides,” Cassian continues. “Look at what a mess you’re making of my seat. I want this car to be covered in your sweet scent.”

Nesta whines high in the back of her throat. She tries to spread her legs wider still despite the confines of the passenger seat, tilting and rocking her hips against Cassian’s hand, against those long, thick fingers stroking her in the best way. In the closed space of Cassian’s car, her panting breaths seem too loud, the slide of Cassian’s fingers between her slick drenched thighs practically echoing in her ears.

But it only seems to add to the pleasure too. And that pleasure is all that Nesta cares about. That Cassian continues to stoke those flames coursing through her veins, continues to build that heat growing and tightening low in her gut, promising sweet release. She slides a hand down and beneath her skirt, intent on pressing against her clit and finally tumbling over that edge, but then Cassian’s fingers are pulling away.

“What the fuck?” Nesta seethes, whirling her attention back toward the man in question.

But as soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes that the car has stopped, that they’re now parked in another parking garage, one Nesta doesn’t recognize. It’s clear that Cassian clocks her realization, smirk tugging up his lips, and he makes a big show of bringing his hand to his mouth, licking and sucking his fingers clean.

“Fuck,” Nesta whispers, still remembering exactly how that tongue had felt between her thighs back in his office.

Cassian leans forward over the console, hand curling possessively around Nesta’s throat and pulling her into a bruising kiss. He presses his tongue into her mouth, and she moans softly, able to taste the remnants of her own slick. That moan turns into a whimper when Cassian’s teeth sink into her bottom lip, tugging as he pulls away.

Nesta still feels dazed and blissed out, her eyes only snapping back open again at the sound of the door opening to her right. Cassian holds his hand out expectantly, and Nesta slides her palm against his, allowing him to tug her out of the car. She doesn’t even catch a good look at the apartment building, it all passing in a blur as Cassian keeps a firm hold on her hand and leads her to the elevators and up to the ninth floor.

He unlocks and pushes open the door to what Nesta presumes is his apartment, but she doesn’t get a chance to get a good look at that either. All she catches is a wall of floor to ceiling windows that she’s sure promises a gorgeous view and a modern looking kitchen before Cassian cages her in against the front door.

Nesta expects him to kiss her again, but instead, his lips latch onto her neck, teeth scraping over her pulse point. She whimpers, tilting her head to give him better access and bucking her hips forward against the obvious line of his cock haphazardly tucked back into his pants at their earlier tryst. Her hands reach out desperately, dragging up under his shirt and over the warm, golden skin hiding beneath. Cassian growls against her throat, his fingers closing around Nesta’s wrists and spinning her around until Nesta’s palms are splayed against the wood of the door.

“I need to be inside you right now.”

Just his words have Nesta moaning in anticipation, especially when she feels Cassian lift the back of her skirt up, when she hears the buckle of his pants. She doesn’t even have to wait, doesn’t even have to beg, before Cassian drives his cock home, Nesta moaning again at the stretch of his girth, even with all the slick her body as produced paving the way.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Cassian sighs, his forehead dropping against her shoulder. “I thought I was going to go insane without you wrapped around me.”

His hands find her hips, gripping tight enough that Nesta is sure she’ll have bruises tomorrow in the shape of his fingerprints. He pulls his hips back just to slam them back forward. Again and again and again he pounds into her, Nesta a moaning mess with each drag of his cock, each teasing catch of his knot against her cunt.

“Look at how my good girl takes her alpha’s cock,” Cassian praises. “Do you want my knot, sweetheart?”

“Please. Cassian, please,” Nesta pleads, trying to press her hips back to meet Cassian’s brutal thrusts.

“So pretty when you beg, but I want to hear you scream.”

Cassian uses his grip on Nesta’s hips to pull her back at the same moment he bucks forward, his knot breaching and locking them together, and scream Nesta does. She screams Cassian’s name, her cunt clenching down hard around his knot. Cassian grinds his hips against her ass, pressing his cock deeper than Nesta thought possible as he floods her with his release.

“I’m not finished with you yet, Nes,” Cassian tells her while his hand slides around her hip, deft fingers finding her clit and tracing circles against it. “Now, be my good girl and come all over my knot.”

As Cassian’s fingers continue to rub tighter and tighter circles, Nesta can do nothing but obey. Her back bows with the force of it, clenching and convulsing around his cock and his knot as her orgasm rocks through her. And all the while, Cassian’s fingers don’t stop working her clit, elongating the pleasure until it gives way to pain, until it’s too much and still not enough at the same time.

Nesta slumps forward against the door, her panting breaths skittering across the wood as she tries to calm her still hammering heart. She whimpers when Cassian pulls his cock free, his knot having subsided. He spins her back around, but despite having just knotted her, the hazel of his eyes is still swallowed by his blown pupils, his cock still hard and heavy where it hangs against his thigh.

It’s clear whatever every edge might have been taken off with the repeated knottings, he’s truly and fully in the thralls of his rut now.

And the sight has Nesta gasping, has her cunt fluttering and desperate and oh, so empty.

“I told you that I wasn’t finished with you yet.” Cassian’s voice is low, the deep alpha timbre leaving Nesta shuddering. “Now get these damned clothes off.”

Before Nesta can even move, Cassian’s hands are reaching for her blouse, large fingers curling around either side of the top. He yanks, fabric tearing and buttons clattering against the hardwood floor beneath their feet. Nesta quickly reaches for the zipper of her skirt before Cassian can destroy that too. She lets it drop to the floor, shrugging out of what remains of her blouse until both are a pool of fabric at her feet.

Her bra is the last thing to be discarded, and then she’s left standing bare before him. Cassian steps closer still, his hands reaching for Nesta’s hair this time. Despite his heaving chest and dark gaze, his touch is surprisingly gentle as he tugs free each pin from Nesta’s hair, letting them drop with a quiet ping, until her hair tumbles down her shoulders and back.

“So fucking beautiful,” Cassian whispers.

“Cassian…”

Cassian groans at the sound of his name, drawing her lips to his. The kiss is searing, and Nesta pushes desperately at the waistband of Cassian’s pants and boxers where they hang halfway down his thighs. It doesn’t take much force for both to drop to the floor, Cassian getting the right idea and stepping out of them fully, quickly unbuttoning and shrugging out of his shirt without even breaking the kiss.

As soon as they’re free from the sleeves of his shirt, Cassian’s hands find home at her waist, pulling her flush against him. Nesta moans into his mouth at the feel of finally being skin on skin, at feeling every hard line of muscle pressed against her, at feeling the hair on his chest and thighs prickle against her skin. The heat that radiates off him is ablaze everywhere they touch, and Nesta presses up onto her toes, desperate to get closer still.

His hands slide down from her waist to her thighs, fingers digging into the flesh and hoisting Nesta into his arms. Her legs wrap instinctually around his hips, but it feels as though she’s barely in the air before her back is hitting soft blankets and pillows, her body bouncing lightly against the mattress where Cassian tossed her.

Nesta tries to glance around at the room, but Cassian floods her vision, the alpha kneeling up onto the bed and leaning over her. Those large hands of his circle her ankles, sliding up and up and up until he can pry her thighs apart, legs stretched wide across the bed. Nesta whimpers at being so exposed, at the way Cassian’s lust filled gaze has her pinned, the way he groans appreciatively.

“Look at this pretty cunt that’s all mine.”

“Please,” Nesta whines, trying to buck her hips up against Cassian’s hold.

“Such a good girl with her legs spread and ready for her alpha,” Cassian continues, fisting his cock and dragging the head along her cunt. “Don’t worry, Nes. I’ll give you what you need.”

Cassian presses his hips forward, his cock sinking into her cunt. She’s already so wet, a combination of slick, of having already taken his knot so many times already, that there’s no resistance. Cassian must feel it too with the way he groans again, the way he doesn’t even pause after he bottoms out. He settles his body over Nesta’s, pressing her into the mattress as he fucks into her with hard, brutal strokes.

“I’ll always give you what you need. Keep you right here stuffed full of my cock and dripping with my seed. Keep you stretched on my knot. My perfect omega.”

Nesta moans, her back bowing off the bed as she tries to rock her hips to meet the pace of Cassian’s thrusts. His arm slips under her lower back, lifting her hips higher. It changes the angle, allowing his cock to press deeper still, and Nesta cries out, her toes curling and cunt clenching down hard with the pleasure of it all.

“Do you like that, sweetheart? Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. So desperate to keep my cock right where it belongs.”

“Cass… Cassian. Fuck.”

Nesta buries a hand in Cassian’s hair, nails dragging down until she can dig them into his shoulders instead. She can feel his knot swelling again, feel the way it presses and teases against her, and she locks her legs around Cassian’s waist.

“Do you want my knot? Want me to fill you up again?”

Nesta can do nothing but nod at the question, Cassian having rendered her into nothing more than a moaning and whimpering mess.

“Then you know what to do. Be a good girl. Come on, Nes.”

Cassian’s hand reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding her swollen clit with practiced ease. It barely takes a single touch before Nesta is careening head first over the edge, the high cresting even more when Cassian buries his knot. She feels like she’s floating, like she’s drowning in the flames. Her head is abuzz, and she barely notices when Cassian’s knot subsides and he pulls his cock free. Not until Cassian grasps her hips again, flipping her over onto her stomach.

She lets out a choked moan into the blankets when Cassian raises her hips, sliding his cock right back into her cunt. Her thighs tremble, and her fingers grapple desperately as the sheets as Cassian builds to that same harsh pace, hips slamming against her ass. Her entire body feels alight, pins and needles all the way down to her toes, and her mind feels hazy with the pleasure of it all.

It’s all she can focus on. The pleasure. Cassian. Alpha.

One of Cassian’s hands moves away from her hip, circling her wrist instead and guiding her hand so it’s pressed against her lower stomach. Pressed against where his cock is spearing deep within her with every snap of his hips.

“Do you feel that? Feel how your sweet cunt takes her alpha?”

Nesta whines, arching her back more and pressing her hips back to meet Cassian’s every thrust. She wants more. Wants to be good for her alpha. The desire, the need, it claws up her throat fast enough to leave her head spinning.

“Please,” Nesta whispers against the blankets, the only word she seems to know anymore. “Alpha, please.”

Cassian groans, the movement of his hips becoming more erratic. “Already so full of me and you still need more, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“That’s a good girl. So good for me, Nes. My sweet omega.”

Cassian uses his hold on her to tug until her back is plastered to his chest, her head lulling to the side of its own accord. His nose slides along the skin of her neck, and then his teeth are there, scraping over her gland. His hand slips lower, fingers tracing tight circles over her clit, while his other hand finds her breast, kneading and plucking at her nipple. And all the while his hips continue to drive into her.

She can feel him everywhere.

Everything is him.

“Please,” Nesta begs, head dizzy with it all. “Please. I want it. I need…”

Spots pop behind Nesta’s eyes as pleasure explodes within her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she’s aware of a scream that might be coming from her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she’s aware of the flare of pain that gives way to warmth threading between her ribs.

~ * * * ~

Slowly, Nesta opens her eyes, the soft light of the sun filtering through airy curtains and spilling across the pillow and her cheeks. She stretches out beneath the blankets tucked around her, an ache still clinging to her muscles. With a soft, sleepy whine, she rolls over, burying her face in her pillow and intent on stealing a few more hours of sleep, but then she breathes in the scent of pine, of low burning embers and a snowy breeze, and Nesta’s eyes snap open again.

Cassian.

It all comes back to her in a rush, enough to have her stomach swooping, and Nesta sits up with a jolt. She finally takes in the room around her, the simple dark wood furnishings, the tall curtains that appear to cover a wide, floor to ceiling window, the dark sheets now crumpled around her.

She looks down, and Nesta can’t decide if it’s better or worse that she’s not naked. An oversized tee hangs slightly off her frame, the soft worn cotton sliding gently against her skin. Nesta tugs at the fabric, but that just draws out more of that scent, and Nesta has to squeeze her thighs together for a moment. She is surprised to find her thighs clean, despite the familiar soreness between them.

If she closes her eyes and thinks back, she can remember the warm water of a bath. But she can also remember the hard chest pressed to her back, the deft fingers working between her thighs and sloshing the water around. She can remember riding Cassian’s cock until the water had long gone cold.

Shaking her head of that memory, Nesta pushes the blankets from her legs, slipping off the bed. It takes a moment to get her feet back under her, but she’s able to pad into the en suite bathroom, fingers already trying to work through the mess that’s become of her hair. She turns toward the mirror and freezes, her entire body locking up as she takes in her reflection.

“No,” Nesta whispers, leaning forward to get a better look. “No no no.”

Nesta storms out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom and all the way to the kitchen where Cassian is standing in front of the stove in just a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cassian chuckles softly, flipping what appears to be pancakes. “Good morning to you too, sweetheart. I already brewed you coffee, don’t worry.”

“You fucking bit me?” Nesta continues to seethe.

“What?” The small smirk toying at Cassian’s lips falls away, and he sets down the spatula in his hand, turning to face Nesta properly.

“What were you thinking?” Nesta steps closer into Cassian’s space, glaring up at him. “Claiming me?”

“Did you forget how you begged me for it last night?”

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me.”

“You’re the one who helped me through my rut. What did you think that meant?”

“Well, I don’t want it.”

Nesta shoves hard at Cassian’s chest, and she hates the way he doesn’t even move an inch. She hates even more the way his jaw flickers, the way an emotion that looks suspiciously like hurt flashes amongst the golds and greens of his hazel eyes.

“Don’t want me, right?”

“I refuse to be some docile little omega that you lock away in this apartment to nest and fuck whenever you please.”

“When did I ever say that’s what I wanted? Nesta,” Cassian sighs, reaching his hands up to frame her face, his fingers surprisingly gentle where they glide across her skin. “I want you exactly as you are.”

Nesta is already shaking her head before Cassian even finishes speaking, but he holds her steady. His hands are warm where they press against her cheeks, that warmth echoed in the fire now blazing in his gaze.

“I’m serious. I like that you push me. I like our teasing back and forth. I like how you’re always the smartest, hottest woman in any room who doesn’t put up with anyone’s bullshit. That’s the Nesta I want. That’s the Nesta I love.”

“Cassian…”

“Whatever you want to do? Do it. You want to quit your job and stay here in the apartment all day reading all those smutty books you hide in your desk? You want to keep doing what you’re doing? You want to go and take Rhys’s job? Great. As long as I get to be there beside you while you do it.”

There’s no fighting the soft smile that spreads across Nesta’s face, even as tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. “I could do Rhysand’s job so much better than him.”

Cassian laughs, the sound reverberating in his chest beneath Nesta’s palms where they’re still settled against his skin. The warm sound of it wraps around her limbs, her smile growing even wider. It’s a beautiful sight, Cassian’s own answering grin and bright hazel eyes.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. He’s always worried you’re going to take it from him.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she presses up onto her toes, sealing their lips together. It’s certainly not the feverish kisses that marked their last eighteen hours, but Nesta still sighs into his mouth all the same. Cassian’s arm wraps securely around her waist, holding her to him, and it feels right being wrapped up with him. For once, those instincts Nesta has always fought tooth and nail seem to settle. For once, it’s as though her very soul settles, safe and warm and home.

“Now, who else knows about the books I keep in my desk?”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

[butchcarmy]

see on one hand i wanna take care of carmy but on the other hand i want him to take care of me. like idk i feel like a night of use ranting to each other and crying in each others arms would heal me, ya know?

YES. YES. Taking care of each other isn’t cute unless it’s a two way street! It’s give and take

Carmy comes home late. He thought he'd come home early today, but of course it didn't work out that way. He's pissed and grumpy and tired. You're already in bed, which makes sense. It's really late, after all. When he gets in by your side, he sees that your eyes are swollen.

He's stressed from work, sure. Always is. But when he sees you so upset, he just tucks away the frustration, the leftover anger that's still left simmering for later. You're more important.

You don't mean to start crying. you really don't. but carmy's right there in front of you, sweet and concerned, and you just start bawling. He holds you close, thumbs away your tears. it was one of those days where every single little thing goes wrong, all piling on top of one another. He listens to you talk, gently pries you open when you start clamming up, watches you intently. He cares so much.

After you calm down and ask Carmy about his day, he doesn't think it'll make him cry, but it does. The emotion feels more potent than just frustration from work. He doesn't recognize where it comes from, but maybe it's just grief at work as it always does, coming out of nowhere. He's crying and he hates it, hates crying in front of people, but you reassure him softly and hold him tight.

"Everytime I think I'm doin' okay, something fuckin' awful just comes out of nowhere and it--it just--it just beats the shit out of me." Carmy laughs, the sound a bit hollow. He's not sobbing his eyes out anymore, but he's still a little sniffly. "Y'know?"

"Fuck, all the time. I feel that all the time. I..." You take in a breath that feels just too sensitive, hits you somewhere a little too soft, and tears are spilling all over again. "It's--it's just like, g-gimme a break. Like, life shouldn't be this hard."

"Yeah," he whispers, thumbs chasing the tears on your cheek. "It shouldn't be." And then he starts crying again. It's just one of those nights where it's impossible to stop once it starts. He tells you later that it was something about seeing you cry that made him tear up again.

Yeah...I think there'd be something special about crying in each other's arms. It'd feel much better than crying alone.

[hajikelist]

Ice Golem Fish (and) Chawanmushi, Sweet Simmered Mandrake, and Barometz

Big one today! A lot of multitasking but I got it all out warm.

I did filet the fish myself (probably gonna put those in a reblog). Grabbed a milkfish and butterflied it, putting the head and bones into the pot to make broth which was then used for the chawanmushi and mandrake. Clam for nightmares in the chawanmushi along with some mushrooms I had around. The chawanmushi had a delicate flavor and the textures of the clam and mushroom were fun little surprises. Fish was simple and tasty.

The mandrake is celeriac again. I tried to use the same recipe as for taro, but I think it was underseasoned. Also I wouldn't recommend cooking with skin on even though it looks more like it. Has a bad texture and a little bitter. Otherwise it was a nice fresh flavor in contrast to the heavy lamb dish.

Now this was the star of the night. Garlic shoots stir fried for the shoots. I seared the lamb for a little bit on each side and then tossed em with crab paste for the crabby flavor and steamed with sake for a few more minutes and let rest while I cooked the rind. Squash for the rind, cooked in the same pan with the drippings from the lamb with garlic, sauteed until soft with a little salted egg as a treat and a nod to the balut. Goodness gracious. The lamb was perfectly cooked and tender and seasoned just right. And oghh man the squash. Slightly crispy on the outside and tender soft inside. The whole thing was a hearty umami blast with the fresh crunch of the greens when you need it. Would do again 💯

[foodshowxyz]

Classic Clam Chowder with Seasoned Shrimp Topping

Ingredients 🦐 For the Seasoned Shrimp:

200g (1/2 lb) shrimp, peeled and deveined

1 tsp paprika

1/2 tsp garlic powder

Salt and pepper, to taste

1 tbsp olive oil

🍲 For the Clam Chowder:

2 cans (6.5 oz each) chopped clams, juice reserved

3 cups fish or vegetable stock

200g (1/2 lb) potatoes, diced

1 onion, finely chopped

2 celery stalks, chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 cup heavy cream

3 tbsp all-purpose flour

4 tbsp butter

Salt and pepper, to taste

Fresh parsley, for garnish

Preparation Time & Cook time Prep Time: 20 minutes Cook Time: 35 minutes Total Time: 55 minutes

Estimated Calories and serving portion Calories: ~350 per serving (serves 4)

Instructions

Season the shrimp with paprika, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. In a skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat and cook shrimp until pink, about 2 minutes per side. Set aside.

In a large pot, melt butter over medium heat. Add onion, celery, and garlic. Cook until softened, about 5 minutes.

Stir in flour and cook for 1 minute. Gradually add the stock and clam juice, stirring constantly.

Add diced potatoes, bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes, or until potatoes are tender.

Add clams and cream. Cook for another 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Serve the chowder in bowls, topped with seasoned shrimp and garnished with fresh parsley.

[sreppub]

What I find amusing about things like selkie Jason is the sheer amount of potential shenanigans these aus could possess. Like, what if most of the members of the Batfamily were all able to shapeshift into an animal (let's go with seal Jason, otter Dick, beaver Tim, and polar bear Damian & Bruce) but have all gone to extreme lengths to hide it from one another for years (they were all too busy trying to hide their own secrets to notice what was literally right in front of them), until Damian waltzes in proclaiming how he's the rightful heir and he is the only one who's even actually a polar bear and everyone is silent for a hot moment before the room just explodes in an uproar of confusion. (In hindsight, this would explain why Dick has a weird fondness for that one specific rock and why Jason really likes that hoodie and why Tim has this weird habit of chewing pencils to nubs and why Bruce can't stand any temperature above 50 degrees.)

I also like the idea of all of them being selkies, but they're all different species of seal. Imagine if each species had different customs and ways of communicating, etc.! Their own favorite seafood meal based off of their preferred prey, their own takes when it comes to their coats, etc.! Like, one day Dick holds Jason's coat while the young boy is learning how to swim as a human and Jason freaks out when he realizes because nobody touches your coat in Jason's selkie culture, not even your parents unless it's a punishment, but in Dick's it's common for any of the older selkies to guard the coats of young children who are learning how to swim as humans. Tim absolutely loves grilled octopus while Bruce is more of a honey-glazed salmon type of guy. For Dick it's all about fried scallops with fries and homemade ranch, but Damian enjoys a good simmered squid (takes after his mother there). Clam chowder is Jason's ride-or-die, Cass = shrimp pasta it's a part of her now, and Stephanie practically inhales crab cakes of any kind (she and Jason also fight over which is better: clam chowder vs crab chowder, it's become a "thing" and they're constantly trying to recruit members of the family to their sides). And although Alfred doesn't talk much about his own background as a selkie (nobody's ever even seen his coat), once a year he makes a lobster dish for the whole family.

. . . sorry, now I'm stuck on a batfam made up entirely of selkies.

First, I didn't know asks could be this long, so cheers love lol

Second, ANOTHER layer of secret identity shenanigans???? FANTASTIC

Also, the more seals the merrier!! They're so squishy and cute and make funny noises. Bruce as either those massive scary elephant seals or the teeny tiny ones hehe

A fun fic rec if you haven't already: What the Water Gave Me (Selkie'verse)

[sukimas]

New England Clam Chowder for the Broke Tumblr User

@damnbluewires

What you'll need (cooking implements)

-A very, very large pot -Cutting board -Knife that can cut vegetables -A couple of bowls to store pre-chopped things in if you don't want to be chopping vegetables at light speed -A spoon to stir the chowder while it cooks -A bowl to serve yourself the soup out of

What you'll need (ingredients): -1 quart (32 oz) heavy cream (~$5 at walmart) -Red or russet potatoes (~3-4 lb, $3-4 at walmart) -Clam juice (8 oz) ($2.50 at walmart) -Canned clams (13 oz, 2 cans) ($4.50 at walmart) -Worcestershire sauce (to taste) (Preferably not Great Value, so ~$2 at walmart. If you go with Great Value, $1) -White onion (2) (about $2.50 at walmart) -Flour (a couple teaspoons for thickening) (2lb bag is ~1.50 at walmart) -Garlic (2 bulbs, or less if you don't like it that much) ($1.50 at walmart) -Black pepper (One container is $2 at walmart) -Water (Pennies on the dollar)

Optional, but goes over the $25 budget: Butter (a tablespoon or so, about $4 for 4 sticks.)

Recipe:

Mince the garlic. Put it in a bowl.

Chop the onions and potatoes to roughly cubic inch-sized pieces. Put those in separate bowls.

Put the pot on the stove, set to low heat.

Place EITHER: 1 TBSP butter OR 1.5 TBSP heavy cream into the pot. Stir to prevent burning. (You can eyeball this amount.)

Add an equal amount of flour to the pot. Continue stirring until it has completely mixed with the butter or heavy cream and has begun to brown a tiny bit.

Add the onions, the garlic, and the clam juice to the pot. Add heavy cream and water in equal parts until the onions are covered. Continue stirring until the onions soften such that they can be cut with a fork.

Add the potatoes to the pot. Add the rest of the heavy cream here, if any remains; add water until the potatoes are covered if none remains. Stir for about 5 minutes.

Rinse off the clams and add them to the pot. Simmer for about 10 minutes; add Worcestershire sauce and pepper to taste at this point. (I usually use around a tablespoon of the former and who knows how much of the latter). If you have any other spices on hand that you think would work, you can add them here.

Simmer until the potatoes are soft enough to cut with your cooking spoon.

Serve (with more pepper if you like.) This should make about 7-8 bowls that are filling enough to be an entire dinner if you eat around 2000 kcal/day. If you have some extra money, you can either serve with oyster crackers or toasted bread. Due to the overall richness of the dish, it's best served in the colder months; it is also best stored in the fridge (rather than the freezer). Ideally, the result should be a slightly tangy, creamy, and vaguely clam-flavored soup, with a hearty body.

Total time (prep+cooking) is usually around 1.5-2 hours. Potatoes are finicky, as is cream. If you'd like to add other things to your soup and have some extra cash, options include green onion, bacon, or diced carrots. None are really necessary for the dish, though.

I have not tried making this as a vegetarian dish, but mushrooms should have a fairly similar texture to clams; the clam juice can theoretically be replaced with water (or vinegar.) Worcestershire sauce can be replaced with balsamic vinegar in that case.

[kaylees-fandomworld]

Imagine being the only person in Rafe's life that can clam him down and make him feel loved.

Rafe was a wild card, you knew that. You knew that there was a side of him that most people were terrified of. However, you had known Rafe for years even before the cocaine took over his life. He had always been a bit wild, but in a way you liked that about him. Of course when his wild behavior became unhinged and erratic it was a bit unnerving.

You had gone to his house one day, a smile on your face, the one that he loved and found comfort in. However, your smile faded when you saw the tall boy pacing in the backyard smacking the side of his head with his strong hands and mumbling to himself.

Any rational person could see that Rafe was angry and wouldn't think twice about walking away. Yet you were still drawn to him. You stepped onto the back patio cautious not to startle him. You weren't scared of him, you knew in your heart he would never hurt you and in truth he never has. But when he was like this, his anger bubbling over the surface he could be unpredictable.

"Rafe." You spoke softly, watching his hands shake and his pacing steps faulter. He stared at the ground for a moment before slowly lifting his head to look at you. When your eyes captured his, your heart broke at the glassy tears that began to form. You caught sight of the red hand print on his right cheek as he brought his hand up to his mouth. He chewed slightly at the skin on his thumb as she looked away from you.

"W-what the hell are you doing here Y/n?" He grunted. You stepped towards him and the angry look in his eyes grew. You weren't sure what happened but you knew it had something to do with his dad.

"It happened again didn't it?" It was the only thing you said before he stormed toward you forcing your back to hit the glass door behind you. It wasn't hard enough to hurt you, but it did startle you. You stood your ground though refusing to let something that you've seen countless times before scare you now.

"You should leave, I...I don't... I don't want to hurt you." He whispered, his minty breath fanning your face. Without thinking your hand moved to his face and he quickly caught your wrist in his large hand.

"You won't hurt me." You whispered back continuing to move your hand closer to his face with little resistance from him now.

"Rafe if I thought that you would ever hurt me I wouldn't have come out here. I trust you Rafe." You could see the original anger simmer to nothing as it now turned to heart ache, the tears in his eyes finally falling down his cheeks.

"Rafe I trust you, and I love you. You could never never hurt me or fail me. Rafe I would do anything for you, and if that means having you snap at me a little when your angry or even push me against the sliding glass door then so be it, because I trust you and I'm not going anywhere." The words warmed him and it didn't take long for him to wrap his strong arms around your waist and bury his face in your neck. Only collapsing to the ground pulling you down into his lap as he cried.

[lynetianya]

Feast of Love [ Karina X Reader ]

Y/N had a plan to surprise Karina and the other members by preparing their favorite dishes at the AESPA dorm.

👨‍🍳 Warning! Maybe you will be hungry after reading this story. 👩‍🍳

[ I like cooking, so I made this story after finding out what the aespa members' favorite foods are ]

GENRE : Fluff

TYPE : One Shot

Karina, the leader of the famous girl group AESPA under SM Entertainment, had a secret. She had a loving relationship with Y/N, who was not an idol but her biggest supporter. Only the members of AESPA and a few trusted people at SM Entertainment knew about their relationship. Today was a rare day off for the group, and Y/N had a plan to surprise Karina and the other members by preparing their favorite dishes at the AESPA dorm.

Before heading to the dorm, Y/N had cooked some of the dishes at home to save time and ensure the surprise remained intact. First on the menu was lasagna, Winter's all-time favorite. Y/N gathered all the necessary ingredients: lasagna noodles, tomato sauce with minced meat, ricotta cheese, mozzarella cheese, and Parmesan cheese.

Y/N started by sautéing onions and garlic in a large pan, filling the kitchen with a delightful aroma. Next, Y/N added the minced meat and cooked it until it changed color. Then came the tomato sauce, salt, pepper, and her favorite spices, all going into the pot. Y/N let the sauce simmer while tasting it to ensure it had the perfect flavor.

While the tomato sauce was simmering, Y/N boiled the lasagna noodles and allowed them to cool. Then began assembling the lasagna. Y/N started by spreading a little tomato sauce on the bottom of a baking dish, followed by a layer of lasagna noodles. Then layered it with the smooth ricotta cheese mixture and a generous sprinkle of mozzarella cheese.

Y/N repeated this process several times until the dish was filled with tempting layers of lasagna, covered it with aluminum foil and placed it in the preheated oven. After 30-40 minutes, the mouthwatering aroma of lasagna filled the entire house.

The final process of lasagna will be carried out in the AESPA dorm.

Next on the list were salad and seaweed soup for Giselle. Y/N carefully washed fresh vegetables, including lettuce, spinach, and carrots. Then chopped the vegetables into small pieces and placed them in a large bowl. Y/N also prepared some cherry tomatoes, washed and halved them.

Y/N checked the dried seaweed Y/N had purchased earlier and soaked it in warm water for a few minutes until it became soft and expanded. Afterward, Y/N drained the seaweed and cut it into small, bite-sized pieces for the soup.

To start making the seaweed soup, Y/N brought vegetable broth into a large pot and heated it. Once the broth began to boil, y/n added the chopped seaweed and let it simmer for a few more minutes. Y/N also added finely chopped garlic, green onions, and a few drops of soy sauce to give the soup a savory flavor. The final touch is to add the baby clams to the soup After simmering for a while, the seaweed soup was ready to be served.

While the seaweed soup continued to simmer, Y/N returned to the salad. Added the chopped vegetables to the large bowl, then continued by adding the fresh cherry tomato halves. Y/N also added the prepared seaweed pieces to the salad, providing a unique texture and a fresh, oceanic taste.

For the dressing, Y/N created a simple mixture by combining olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, and a pinch of sugar in a small bowl. Mixed the ingredients until they were well combined and then poured the dressing over the salad. Y/N gently tossed the salad in the dressing, ensuring that every vegetable was coated with the refreshing flavors.

The next dish on Y/N's menu was Gamjatang, Ningning's absolute favorite. Y/N had purchased high-quality pork ribs and a variety of colorful vegetables, including potatoes, scallions, and kimchi. All the ingredients were fresh and vibrant on her kitchen table.

Y/N began by filling a pot with water and placing it on the stove. Once the water was boiling, she added the pork ribs, briefly blanching them to remove any unwanted blood and odor. Afterward, Y/N changed the water and added the sliced potatoes, scallions, and kimchi to the pot.

While everything simmered to perfection in the pot, Y/N prepared the Gamjatang seasoning. Y/N mixed gochugaru (Korean red pepper powder), soy sauce, finely minced garlic, ginger, and other spices in a small bowl. This mixture would give the Gamjatang its signature spicy and savory flavor.

When the ingredients in the pot had softened and released their fragrant aroma, Y/N added the prepared seasoning. carefully stirred everything, ensuring the seasoning was evenly distributed among the ingredients. After a few moments, the Gamjatang was ready to be served.

The final dish Y/N prepared was Karina's all-time favorite, Tonkatsu. Y/N visited local Asian store and bought thin slices of quality pork cutlets. Y/N also gathered breadcrumbs, eggs, and a few pieces of cabbage to accompany the Tonkatsu. All the ingredients were fresh and of high quality.

Back at home, Y/N began by soaking the pork cutlets in salted water for a few minutes to remove some of the odor and enhance their texture. While waiting, Y/N sliced the cabbage into thin layers and set up a bowl with breadcrumbs on one side and a bowl of beaten eggs on the other.

After patting the pork cutlets dry carefully, Y/N coated them in breadcrumbs, making sure every side was evenly covered, then dipped them into the beaten eggs before giving them a second coating of breadcrumbs. The Tonkatsu was now ready for frying. Y/N planned to fry the Tonkatsu in the AESPA dorm so that Karina could enjoy it while it was still hot and crispy.

With all the dishes prepared, Y/N placed them in food containers and loaded them into her car. Y/N was ready to head to the AESPA dorm.

Upon arriving at the dorm, Y/N quietly slipped inside with the dishes to avoid waking the members. Y/N had previously informed the AESPA manager and obtained permission and a key to the dorm.

Y/N placed all the dishes in the kitchen and prepared to reheat the food and fry the Tonkatsu, luckily, AESPA dorm had a spacious kitchen for her to work in. Y/N retrieved the lasagna, removed the aluminum foil, and let it bake for another 10-15 minutes in the oven.

Next, Y/N reheated the Gamjatang and seaweed soup that had prepared earlier.

While waiting for everything to be ready, Y/N readied herself to fry the Tonkatsu. Y/N heated the oil in a pan to the perfect temperature and carefully added the pieces of Tonkatsu. They sizzled as they met the hot oil. Y/N cooked them until they turned a beautiful golden color, ensuring the pork was cooked to perfection inside.

Once the Tonkatsu was done, Y/N lifted them from the pan and placed them on paper towels to remove excess oil. At the same time, Y/N thinly sliced the cabbage, which would accompany the dish.

Y/N finally arranged the cooked Tonkatsu on a plate, placing the cabbage slices around them as a garnish. Y/N also provided a delicious Tonkatsu sauce for dipping. The Tonkatsu looked perfect, with a crispy outer layer and tender pork inside.

The increasingly irresistible aroma wafted through the house and began to reach the bedrooms of the members. It was then that Karina woke up from her morning slumber.

Karina rubbed her sleepy eyes, but then her senses were suddenly overwhelmed by the enticing smell of food. She sat up in bed, her eyes widening, and her drowsy expression turning into one of excitement.

With swift steps, Karina rushed to the kitchen, where Y/N was busy preparing the feast. "Y/N, what are you cooking?" Karina asked in amazement, her face lighting up with a wide smile. She embraced Y/N's broad shoulders and planted affectionate kisses on Y/N's cheeks and lips. Karina was taken aback by Y/N's surprise visit.

Y/N smiled and replied, "I'm making your favorite dishes."

Karina could only shake her head in disbelief, asking, "You made all of this? Doesn't this take a long time? Aren't you tired?" Karina couldn't believe her eyes. There was so much food prepared by Y/N, and it must have taken a considerable amount of time and effort.

"Not at all, it's your day off, so I decided to surprise you all with my cooking," Y/N said affectionately.

Karina, hearing Y/N's words, was overjoyed and touched by Y/N's love for them. She kissed Y/N once more, deeply appreciating Y/N.

Y/N then instructed Karina to wake up the other members. Karina, with a smile on her face, kissed Y/N again and hurriedly went to wake the other members.

Y/N efficiently arranged all the dishes on the dining table. Y/N took the lasagna out of the oven, allowing it to rest for a moment before cutting it into slices and placing them on the table.

The same went for the Gamjatang, salad, and seaweed soup. Everything was neatly laid out.

All the members who had awakened were in for a surprise when they saw the spread. Winter, with joy, started to jump around as she spotted her favorite lasagna ready on the table. Giselle's eyes widened in astonishment as she saw the seaweed soup, and Ningning let out a joyful cheer at the sight of Gamjatang.

"Winter, this is your favorite lasagna," Y/N said with a warm smile.

Winter's face lit up, and she couldn't contain her excitement. "Y/N, you made lasagna for me? I love you!" Winter exclaimed, hugging Y/N tightly.

Giselle, with a gleam of appreciation in her eyes, looked at Y/N and said, "Wow, seaweed soup! You remembered! Thank you, Y/N!"

Ningning was practically dancing with joy as she stared at the Gamjatang. "I can't believe it! Gamjatang! You're amazing, Y/N!" she exclaimed.

Karina returned with the other members in tow, and they were equally surprised by the feast that awaited them. They all gathered around the table, and Y/N couldn't help but smile as watched their expressions of delight and gratitude.

With laughter and chatter filling the room, they all dug into the delicious meal Y/N had prepared. Each dish had been made with love, and it showed in the taste. They couldn't stop praising Y/N for Y/N culinary skills, and they knew that this morning's breakfast would be one of the most special meals they'd ever shared together.

As they ate, they shared stories, laughter, and tender moments. Karina couldn't have been happier to have Y/N as partner, someone who cared so deeply for her and her fellow members.

END

🤭Are you hungry yet?🤭

My Masterlist

[a-strange-inkling]

Could we have a oneshot about in OH universe Jealous!Chrissy X Paige X Eddie :D We've seen his reaction about Jason but we never see Chrissy's about Eddie's old hook up's or exes <3

Hi! I’d love to write something like that, but I probably won’t implement Paige or any Flight of Icarus to the Old Haunts universe until I’ve read the book. I want to get a feel of her character first before deciding. But, Eddie’s got enough flings pre 1986, so they definitely run into one or two of his exes and hookups over the years, so we’ll see her reaction to that.

For the most part, especially by 1995, they don’t really get too jealous, they never give one another a reason to be. It does happen, they’re human, but there’s this deep level of trust and loyalty to one another. Jason, of course, popping up at Laura’s funeral is a special case in more ways than one.

Kind of related (not really, sorry, but it’s something 😭) I have bits of a not fully conceptualized oneshot exploring their jealousy and how they’re both so different handling it. It’s during one of their biggest fights while living in Chicago, they’re both still young and Eddie’s career is picking up and Chrissy’s going through one of her low times. It roots up Eddie’s jealousy of watching Chrissy with Jason from afar for three years and Chrissy’s the more she learns about the girls he’s been with (some she even remembers/noticed him with in high school 🤭)

Eddie’s more outwardly jealous between the two, running hot and loud (as we’ve seen). He stews internally until he eventually erupts. Whereas, Chrissy gets quiet and depressed, she’ll go into her own head and clam up tight. Which honestly drives Eddie crazy, especially the silent treatment. He’d rather she stab him in the foot or something than not talk to him. With all her insecurities and self deprecation, it’s way too easy for her to think that he won’t want her anymore and leave her for someone more beautiful and exciting. It’s been locked in her whole life by her mother and it’s a hard thing to work past for her.

Here’s a bit of it:

1989

Chicago, Illinois

He’s slumped on the couch watching the moving shadows from the traffic lights outside faze over the ceiling, one leg hanging over the edge, swinging back and forth in slow simmering agitation.

It’s dumb. He’s not really waiting up for her, it’s like only four minutes after eight when he hears her unlock the front door. She said she’d be out till around eight thirty so she’s actually early. He hasn’t even put Livvy to bed yet. She’s on her tummy, chewing on her rubber panda in her playpen. She seems content, but she knows something is amiss, she keeps glancing up at him with her big chocolate eyes in a ‘You alright over there?´ sort of way. She’s already asked like six times for the last three hours her mother’s been away.

“Otay Daddy?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, bug.”

“You otay?”

“I’m okay.”

…

“Otay, Daddy?”

“I’m fine, baby.”

…

“Daddy sad?”

“No, I’m not sad, Livvy.”

“Otay.”

“Thanks for checking.”

…

“…Daddy otay?”

“Yes! Yes! Daddy is okay, Olivia!”

“Otay.”

He glances at Chrissy when she steps inside, hoping maybe her spirits are a little lifted with some time away to clear her head. Nancy’s in town, so Robin and Vickie picked her up so they all could go out for dinner and drinks. She keeps her back to him while she hangs her keys.

“Hi.” he greets.

“Hi.” she answers tonelessly, not meeting his gaze when she turns around.

Eddie wilts, if anything, she looks even more upset. God, did she tell them? Did they spend the whole night dissecting the situation? Why is Nancy always around when he fucks up?

“So uh how was it?”

“Fine.” she replies faintly.

God. Just fucking kill him now. He hates this.

She’s not even dressed all that wild, maybe a little more sexy than usual, with the strapless floral blue dress that shows off her legs with an oversize jean jacket and her heels. Jesus God! It doesn’t matter, Chrissy could be wearing an old potato bag and she’d still get attention. He can only imagine how many stupid fucking frat boys hit on her tonight and after the incident she probably let a few of them too.

Okay fine… she wouldn’t do that, no matter how angry she is with him… but they still would try and his red hot jealousy is still flaring at just the idea of it. It only makes it worse that she’s not vying for a reaction. Not trying to get back at him.

“How’s the girls?” he asks.

“Good.” She supplies, walking past him toward their daughter. Livvy climbs up quickly to her feet using the railing of her playpen, reaching for her to pick her up.

“Hi Mama! Mama!” she exclaims in delight, turning to Eddie. “Mama home!”

“I see her, bug.” His smile is a little tight as he tries to catch her eyes, tries to reach her.

“Hi, sweetie,” Chrissy sings gently with a little smile, lifting their toddler up in her arms and walking toward the bathroom, leaving him alone to pout after her in the small living space. “Were you a good girl?”

“Yea!”

“Good.”

“Missed you, Mama,” Livvy continues to babble, leaning her head against her shoulder. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” Chrissy replies, letting her sit on the counter of the sink to watch her take off her makeup.

Eddie rises to his feet with a long sigh and follows, scratching the back of his neck as he comes to stand in the entrance, leaning against the frame.

“Pwetty,” Livvy reaches up to touch her face in marvel, her dark eyes fixated on her. “Pwetty, pwetty, pwetty,” her little fingers pet her golden waves. Chrissy’s smile is melancholy as she kisses her forehead.

“Thank you, baby.”

She is pretty, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, he wants to tell her that. She still hasn’t looked at him, keeping her gaze on her reflection as she cleans off her eye shadow and mascara.

“Mama sad.” Livvy says, studying her. “Sad Mama?”

“I’m okay, Livvy,” she tells her, giving her a bigger smile, but it still doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Mama sad.” His little girl snaps her head at him sharply, eyes big and worried. What did you do? Fix it!

“I’m trying, bug,” he breathes out. “Mama’s not talking to me.”

Chrissy looks skyward in mild irritation, lashes fluttering closed. She leans down to rinse her face.

“Talk Mama?” Livvy turns back to Chrissy, tugging at her dress. “Talk?”

“…Not tonight, baby,” she sighs, picking her back up. “Too tired.”

“Tired?” she repeats in contemplation. “Bed time?”

Chrissy hums a little yeah as she turns, waiting expectantly for Eddie to move out of her way.

He doesn’t.

“Tired, Daddy.” Olivia informs him from where she sits on her hip. “Mama tired, bedtime”

He gives his little intercessor a sad half smile. “Thanks anyway, baby girl.” She tried her best for him. “Chrissy…”

“I’m going to put her down for the night.” she informs him, eyes on his shoulder.

“…Okay.” He touches the bend of her arm, looking for her again, but she’s always been much too good at hiding from him when she wants to. “I mean, I can, if you want to change or—”

“No, I want to.” she whispers, pushing gently past him.

Give her space.

She said she wanted space.

[bibblelevi]

So I just randomly logged into this account and read through my drafts. I always had something on my mind and this was something to do with a fantasy au fic that will never happen. But I wrote this like 10 months ago probably?

tw: talks of old scars, blood and gore, cleaning wounds, angst

Your gaze simmers on his body from the bathroom’s doorway, all of the harsh, jutting lines, the smooth peaks of his hipbones, and the curves of his arms. Without the leathers and clothing, Levi’s much lither than he appears. It doesn’t matter, either way. He’s utterly beautiful.

But the wounds on his back. The long gashes of red, now brown and crusted from never being treated. Your throat squeezes are your heart, uneasiness sweeping through your posture. His reflection moves in the mirror, pale and marred features squinted in concentration, and as he reaches behind himself to clean the wound, his chapped mouth wobbles. He winces. He hurts.

It’s fucking devastating. You had seen those scars on his back before, and seeing them open again, bleeding again. You don’t deserve to see inside him like this, but you’re drawn to it. You want to crawl into him through the gashes and seal yourself over every inch, a protective armor clad on his most intimate and vulnerable parts. It wouldn’t matter how much someone beat, struck, or hurt, because you would be there, inside, to take the brunt of every hit. A distant vibration of the heart.

He struggles to reach the places, and eventually gives him, shoulders heaving.

“Let me,” you say.

It’s apparent he hadn’t noticed your presence, because his head whips in your direction. The stiffness in his features tenderizes.

“All right,” he says back.

You approach and dip your hand into the bucket, retrieving the cloth and squeezes out the excess water. Levi turns so his back is facing you, the only hint of his face being the sharp curve of his jaw. You brace him and yourself by placing your other hand on his arm.

Carefully, you press the cloth to his back. He hisses through his teeth and clams up, shoulders raising, hand jilting forward on instant to remove the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ll try to be more gentle,” but you don’t know how you can be more gentle than this.

“It’s fine.”

Your fingers leave indents on his arm, which you like more than you can bear to admit. You clean the raw, blotchy skin with a slow, blotting method, and you clean until the cloth is soaked red with him.

Rinse and repeat.

When you wring out the cloth, the water turns pink, and you stare at it, and you don’t know why that’s what finally breaks you. Your eyes swell with tears that can’t possibly burn the same as his wounds—wounds that you couldn’t prevent. It’s not a matter of being useless, or being a burden. It’s a matter of resolving yourself to your inhibitions, knowing that there really was nothing you could do, and that this would have happened regardless. Most people would find that a comfort. That you couldn’t change the inevitable. It was always going to happen this way. Levi was always going to be abused. He was always going to bleed, and hurt. And you hate it. You hate it more than you hate Zeke.

Your hand trembles, so you squeeze his arm tighter, and you duck your head. The tears drip from your eyes, the salt landing on your lips. The rag once again turns red. Rinse and repeat, and the water is now brown instead of pink.

The third time you take the rag to his back, there’s snot rolling down your Cupid’s bow. It burns your upper lip, turns it puffy. But you don’t sniffle, because if you do, he will know, so you hold your breath and you don’t hiccup and you keep your head down.

His back is not better, but it’s cleaner. The blood is now a paint-like smear on a blank canvas, the lashes like pencil marks on the skin. You continue down his body, as far down as his waistband allows. You don’t dare risking opening your mouth, cowering like an animal afraid to reveal it’s been backed into a corner, so you hook your finger and glance up to see if he doesn’t want you to go any further. He doesn’t object. He remains still, head tipped low.

You go to rinse the rag and repeat the process for the fourth time.

And as the cloth touches his skin, your body wracks with the sob you’ve been holding in since the first rinse.

You heave, and shove your face into a patch of untouched skin, and you cry all over him, desperately holding onto his elbow. You can’t fucking take it, so you weep like a child, and he lets you like a mother.

He looks down where your hand gripping the filthy cloth hovers beside your flush bodies and guides it around him until you’re clinging to him. He feels like someone who finally belongs to someone, being held like this. Even as your tears drip down his back, flaying him, and your sobs drill through his flesh into his bones, he knows he has someone to come home to.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, gasping for air. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re so hurt.”

He closes his eyes. “No.” His hand slides over your forearm pressed to his stomach. “Don’t be sorry. Not for this.”

“If you didn’t know me, you’d be okay.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be doing fuck all with my life. You gave me something to fight for. So don’t ever say you’re sorry, because I’m not.”