#slowly cooking and simmering and all of that

[pyuart]

Im not even halfway thru 💀💀💀

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ May I have this dance? ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : It was a late stormy night at the hotel, you weren't able to sleep, but when you sneaked into the kitchen a certain red-haired demon was humming to a tune while cooking.

Pairing : Alastor x Reader

Word count : 1309 Words

Genre : Fluff

Warnings ➵ None

a/n : Dancing with Alastor? Sign me up (even tho I cannot dance and he would probably kill me for stepping on his feet..-)

Also I personally cannot dance, so I'm sorry if the description of the dancing seems a bit off!

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

For once it was storming in hell, it was a very rare occasion, but once it did storm, it was crazy. The whole city had a blackout, VoxTech was probably going crazy right now. Meanwhile, the hotel was cozy, Alastor used his magic and brought out some candles, so the hotel was clad in nice candlelight now.

Yet here you were laying in your bed, not able to fall asleep. Outside your window the rain was slamming against it, lightning and thunder could be heard every few seconds. Sighing you swing your legs back out of your bed, it is no use, you won't be able to fall asleep like this. Feet hitting the cold floor, a shudder running over your body. Slipping on some socks and a jacket, you take the candle holder from your nightstand and light the candle up again, before you make your way out of the room.

Slowly and quietly you make your way downstairs to the foyer and then to the kitchen, everyone else was probably asleep right now, so that's why you were almost going on your toes. Arriving at the kitchen, the door closed, you noticed soft light shining underneath the door gap, wondering who was in the kitchen this late at night. Opening the door a bit to slip a glance inside, you see Alastor at the stove, candles were lit all around the kitchen, indulging it in soft light. The stove was going with fire, probably thanks to Alastor's magic. He was stirring something in the pot, you couldn't see what it was, but the smell it gave off was enticing.

"How long do you intend to stand there and gawk at me, darling? Come on inside!" Alastor did not turn around at all, making you wonder how you were noticed, unknown to you, his shadow was watching you the entire time since you began to sneak a peak inside. Entering the kitchen now, you close the door behind you softly, pulling your jacket closer around you. Your feet carry you over to Alastor, glancing into the pot. He was making some stew, you couldn't really tell what every ingredient was, but it smelled good. "Open up dear~" Holding the wooden spoon up, he let you have a taste and it was incredible, he had a hand for cooking. It was a slight bit spicy, but not too much. "It's very nice!" Nodding now, as you slowly start to get the things out you actually came for, a cup of tea.

"Oh dear, let me make this for you, do take a seat." Grabbing the cup from your hands, you look at him a bit flabbergasted, yet do as he said and sit down. "Why are you even awake this late? And cooking on top of that?" Watching him, just now you notice how he was still wearing his normal attire, he hadn't changed into sleepwear yet. The only thing he took off was his coat and bow, the first button of his shit open, yet he still looked proper as always. "Oh I just felt like cooking something up, couldn't really rest." Was his answer to your question, afterwards it got quiet again.

Just now you notice how some jazz was playing from his staff, Alastor was tapping his foot along to the rhythm. It was a nice change for once here in hell, simply enjoying some music and calmness. "Do tell me, darling, do you dance?" Looking over his shoulder with a mischievous smirk, smiling and smirks were normal for him, yet this one looked daring and playful. "I'm not really skilled at it if I'm honest, I prefer watching others." Alastor's eyebrow quirked up a bit, the lid of the pot was placed on it now, letting the stew simmer for now. Your tea was almost ready too, as he strode over to you. His hand was extended out to you now, his playful smile a tad bit bigger now. "I beg to differ, my dear, I think you may be a skilled dancer, with the right person to lead you, so.. may I have this dance?" The jazz music getting a tad bit louder now, as he awaits for you to place your hand in his. For a second you were unsure, yet placed your trust in him, in other occasions this may be a bad idea, but right now it's simply a dance.

With a quick pull, you were on your feet, as Alastor slowly started to lead you, the music slowed down a bit, while he took the lead to guide you, probably taking it slow at the start right now. The dance was a swing to the jazz music playing, the more he guided you and twirled you around, the more you got the hang of it. Letting Alastor and the music guide you, the next song was slowly picking up the pace, he was obviously enjoying this, having fun with twirling you around to his heart's content.

"You see my dear, you were only missing the correct partner to make you a darling little dancer~" His words made you blush a slight bit, it wasn't unusual for Alastor to talk to you or Charlie with pet names like dear or darling, but somehow his words now had a different tune to it, they were soft, like he meant what he said with his whole heart. "I guess you're right.." Agreeing with him, as he now noticed how you were slowly getting out of breath, the music slowing down to a waltz, as he pulled you in closer to his body now, his hand now placed on your waist, as his other one holds yours in a soft grip, as on instinct your hand finds its place on his shoulder.

This felt different than before.. more intimate than the fun swing before, his face wore a soft smile, as he looked down at yours, your eyes avoiding his a bit now, too shy to face him. A chuckle makes you raise your head again though, noticing how close he was to you now, mere centimeters between you two.

"So mon amour, how did you like this?" The music was still going and so was Alastor, softly guiding you to the music, but not as concentrated anymore as before. "You definitely are a great guide, it was fun, though I was a tad bit nervous I must admit." Chuckling at your response, he nods. "Don't worry your pretty little head, you were fabulous, like a little dove." Letting your hand go now, he comes to a stop, takes a step away from you and back to the stove. Your breath was still the slightest bit harder from the dancing, you were just happy you didn't end up stepping on his feet or anything.

"Your tea darling, head on out to your room and sleep soon, it's late, can't have you missing sleep now can we?" The cup was placed in your hand, as he guided you to the kitchen door with a hand on your lower back. "Thanks, sleep well too Al!" Giving him a soft smile, as you turn to go back to your room. "Let's repeat this another time darling." His words bring a slight red hue to your face again, as you nod in agreement, before making your way back to your room. Alastor closed the door with a content smile, he didn't get to dance often, and dancing with you, his little darling? An amazing turn of events.

The next day the power was back and the storm gone, the cup on your nightstand empty and after exhausting yourself with dancing, you slept like a kitten this night.

And let's just say, Alastor pulled you into a dance here or there more often now than you thought he would.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Reunions Embrace ~ HYJ

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

GENRE: idol!AU, established relationships, SMUT MINORS DNI, blow job, unprotected sex, reader taking care of the prince as deserved,

PAIRING: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The moment Hyunjin stepped into the house, a sense of tranquillity washed over him, filling every corner of his being with a comforting embrace. The home had been completely transformed since he left as if his absence had somehow imbued it with an even greater sense of warmth and homeliness. 

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of evening light filtering through the blinds, it felt like peace compared to the bus he'd been cramped on for months. The coffee table had a vase of fresh cut flowers placed in them, so fresh he could smell them from the doorway and his body began to relax completely but the one thing putting him into a complete state of relaxation was the smell of cooking. Not just any cooking but Hyunjin's favourite meal that was greeting him, instantly warming his heart as he went toward the kitchen in the hunt for you.

In the kitchen, he found you standing by the stove, your sleeves rolled up as you tended to a pot simmering on the stove. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of his favourite meal, a comforting blend of spices and flavours that instantly transported him back to simpler times.

"Hey, you're home!" You exclaimed, rushing over toward him and instantly wrapping your arms around him, his arms snaking around your waist as his head rested on the top of your head. This was what peace was, this was everything he ever wanted in life. To come home to you and this hug. He held you close, feeling the warmth of your embrace chase away the lingering chill of his travels. 

"I've missed you so much," he whispered, his voice filled with longing and affection. It had been far too long since he'd gotten to hold you and he wasn't planning on letting go so easily. You smiled to yourself, letting out a happy sigh as you snuggled your head into his chest. 

The two of you spoke almost every day whenever you could but it was hard when his schedule kept him so busy on tour, but you understood the risks of dating someone in his career and you accepted them. As long as he continued to come home to you, that was all you cared about. 

Slowly pulling back you looked up at him with eyes that sparkled with joy and love, you were almost afraid if you looked away he would suddenly disappear. 

"I've missed you too," You replied softly, your hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, it had grown so much longer since the last time you saw him and you knew it was going to be irritating him sooner or later.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude for having you in his life. Despite the distance and the challenges you faced, you were always there for him, supporting him and loving him unconditionally. No matter the rumour going around you stood by him, waiting for him to tell you his side before ever passing judgement. Always there to care for him whenever he was sick or overworked, you were always there and he couldn't have been more grateful for you.

"I can't believe you cooked my favourite meal," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

"You really are the best." He kissed the top of your head as you grinned up at him, your eyes shining with happiness. 

"Well, I wanted to do something special for you," You said, your voice filled with warmth as you slowly went back over to the stove to make sure everything was cooking nicely. You had a whole night planned out for him and it wasn't going to end with just the meal,

"Welcome home, my love." You whispered as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder while he stood with you and you cooked. And at that moment, as you stood there together, surrounded by the aroma of his favourite meal and the love that filled the air, he knew that no matter where his travels took him, he would always find his way back to you.

After savouring every last bite of the meal you'd lovingly prepared, he felt a warmth spread through his body unlike any he had experienced before. It wasn't just the delicious flavours that filled him with contentment, but the knowledge that each bite was a tangible expression of your love and devotion. As he leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The worries and stresses of his time away seemed to melt away with each mouthful, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude for the love of his life sitting across from him.

"Wait right here," You whispered, your voice soft and soothing, you walked over to him, pressing a kiss to his temple and smirking to yourself.

"I have something special planned for you." Without giving him a chance to respond he watched as you disappeared from the room, anticipation fluttering in his chest like a butterfly's wings. 

Moments later, you returned, your arms cradling a stack of fluffy towels and a bottle of his favourite bath oil. 

"Come with me," You said, your voice a gentle melody that beckoned him to follow, almost like a siren's call and he was up in a flash, following after you in silence.

Together, you ascended the stairs, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. As you reached the landing, you led him into the bathroom, where the air was heavy with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus.

With tender care, you began to fill the tub with warm water, the sound of rushing water a soothing symphony that filled the room. Once the tub was filled to the brim, you poured in a generous amount of bath oil, the fragrant aroma enveloping you both in a cloud of tranquillity.

"You don't have to do all of this for me," He mumbled a little, guilt weighing on him as he thought about all of the efforts you were going through for him. He'd been away so long and yet you were still doing all of this for him and a small part of him felt as though he should be the one to do this for you. 

"I want to, I missed you and want to take good care of you," You told him as you glanced over your shoulder, reading the look on his face easily and sending him a reassuring smile.

"But-"

"No buts, I want to do this and I will," You said sternly, making him chuckle a little as you stood up and turned to face him. 

"Now, it's time to relax." You whispered as you kissed him softly, slowly peeling off his clothes and dropping them into the laundry basket inside the room. Continuing to strip him and kiss his naked shoulders as you did so, smiling happily as you watched him sink further into relaxation.

Hyunjin stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm embrace of the water with a contented sigh. You knelt beside him, dipping a soft sponge into the water and beginning to wash away the cares of the day with gentle strokes. As you washed him, your touch was tender and loving, each caress a silent promise of your devotion. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself fully to the sensation of her hands moving over his skin, washing away the tension and fatigue that had accumulated during his time away.

"This is nice," He whispered, his head leaning back against the tub as you continued to wash his body gently. It was the first time touching him in a long time but it wasn't sexual, it was relaxing. 

"Lean forward." You whisper in his head, once he does you begin to run the sponge down his back, smiling as your boyfriend fully relaxes for you. 

"Thank you," He whispered as he leaned back against the tub, his eyes finding yours and smiling in a completely relaxed state. There was no place he'd rather be right now than right here,

"Anytime baby," You giggled a little, kissing him softly as he slipped further into the water, his eyes fluttering shut as you smiled leaning back against the tub enjoying him back with you. 

Hyunjin sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your soft lips wrap around his hard length, he couldn't remember how you'd gotten to the bedroom but he didn't care, he was in complete bliss. Your eyes flirt with him as you sink lower onto his shaft and back up again, his moans filling the room as his eyes flutter shut,

"F-Fuck I missed this," He mumbles, his hands clutching onto the sheets as you run your tongue up and down his length, using your hand to stroke what your mouth can't reach as your head bobs up and down, tracing the veins in his skin as you suck. 

"Just like that," He moans, his gaze now on you as you looked up at him, humming around him as you continue to suck him deeper, his praises filling you with determination. You wanted this to be the perfect welcome home for him and you were going to do anything for that to happen.

"Ffuuck," He hisses, your pace quickening as you suck him and stroke him faster, pulling off him to spit on the tip before taking him back into your mouth and to the back of your throat again,

"S-Stop...S-Stop," He begs as you pull back, afraid you'd done something wrong but he brought you onto his lap, kissing you deeply and hungrily as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I want to come with you," He whispered as he lined himself up at your entrance, your hands making their way into his hair and you bit down on his lip softly. 

"I need you" You whimpered, as he slowly pushed into you, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch, it had been far too long since you'd been with one another but you needed this.

"Shit, Yn, you're so fucking tight," He groans, his head rolling back against the bed as you sank further onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his length as you breathed out a happy sigh,

"You're too big," You mumbled to him, rolling your hips slowly moving your hips in slow circles as his hands clutched onto your hips, there was no way he was going to last long, not when it had been too long since you were last together,

"Y-Yn," He stuttered out, he wanted this to be good for you too but he knew there was no chance he could make you come like this, not with how needy he was,

"This is all about you tonight," You breathed out, biting his ear softly as you slowly began to raise your hips only to let them fall again, rocking back and forth on him as he moaned your name out loudly. Your breathing went faster and shallower as you moved your hips faster on him, his hands digging into your hips as he groaned squeezing his eyes shut and trying to list off baseball players to distract him,

"Come for me baby, I missed you." You moaned out, looking down at him as he whimpered, his hips bucking wildly as he couldn't fight it anymore, the urge to come taking over him as he bucked into you, your pussy clenching around him as he thrusts harder and faster into you. Cumming suddenly as he whimpered your name out, sweat dripping down his forehead as you continued to ride him through his high.

"Maybe I should have made you bathe last," You teased, kissing his lips softly as he whimpered, unable to find words to speak at that moment.

"I'll run a fresh one and I'll join you this time," You told him, slowly getting up and smirking as you made your way to the bathroom, your boyfriend's eyes on you the whole time.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

[hellsitegenetics]

Chicken Pot Pie! :D

this is an actual recipe, but I have not tested it so have no idea if its good.

Ingredients

1 tbsp. olive oil

1 1/2 lb. bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1/2 yellow onion, chopped

2 carrots, chopped

2 stalks celery, chopped

1 tsp. fresh thyme

1/4 c. all-purpose flour

2 c. chicken stock

1/4 c. dry white wine

1 c. frozen peas

1/4 c. fresh flat-leaf parsley

1 (14-ounce) package all-butter puff pastry

1 large egg, beaten

Directions

Step 1Preheat oven to 425°F. Heat a large cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Add oil. Season chicken with salt and pepper. Cook, skin sides down, until golden brown and crisp, 6 to 8 minutes. Flip chicken and transfer skillet to the oven. Cook, until the internal temperature of the thickest thigh registers 165°F on an instant-read thermometer, 12 to 14 minutes. Transfer to a cutting board. Discard skins and bones, and chop chicken. 

Step 2Place skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, carrots, celery, and thyme. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, just until crisp-tender, 3 to 4 minutes. Add flour and cook, stirring, 30 seconds. Slowly stir in stock and wine. Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until thickened, 4 to 6 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in chicken, peas, and parsley. 

Step 3Cut puff pastry into a circle 1 inch larger than the outside rim of a cast-iron pie plate. (You may need to roll the dough on a lightly floured work surface to get it to size.) Place pie plate on a rimmed baking sheet. Transfer filling to pie plate and top with puff pastry; crimp edges. Brush puff pastry with egg. Bake, until golden brown, puffed, and cooked through, 20 to 25 minutes.

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Closest match: Neolamprologus multifasciatus genome assembly, chromosome: 18 Common name: Many Banded Shell-Dweller

(image source)

[wol-fica]

LET US FUCK TARA ON THE COUNTER

ask and you shall definitely receive

summary - tara has been over worked with studying and testing, so you decide to help her out a little bit

————————

“Tara, baby, why don’t you let me cook?” You asked from your seated position at the table, watching your girlfriend carefully.

It’s testing time for her in college, and it’s been kicking her butt. Almost every night she is up late studying some sort of film or useless assignment, which has been causing her to gain at most 3 hours of sleep.

You’ve tried your hardest to get her to take some sort of break, but Tara is one of the most stubborn people you know so your efforts make no dent.

“I’m basically done, don’t worry.” She reassured you, stirring the bubbling soup with the ladle before closing the lid on it, “Just needs to simmer.”

“If you say so…” You muttered, watching her pick up her phone and lean herself against the counter.

Her body bent over the counter, her ass sticking back out while her back arched slightly as she scrolled on her phone. Your eyes bore into her, a blush coating your cheeks from the lack of coverage her thin sleep shorts provided.

“Are you studying tonight?” You asked, slowly standing up as to stay undetected.

“Yeah, I have a slasher film final in a couple days.” Tara replied, not paying you any attention.

“You don’t even need to study for that.” You mumbled, sliding up behind her while undoing the tie on your sweats.

“Yes I do, if I don’t then i’ll most definitely NOT make a 100.” She quipped back, leaning her weight onto one leg.

You hummed, kicking your discarded pants behind you before taking her hips in your hands. She was warm under your touch, and even warmer when you pressed your hard bulge into her ass.

She froze at the feeling, her eyes locked in on a cup in front of her. Her phone long forgotten, she pushed herself up on her hands and let you invade her space. Your face immediately went for her neck, burying there and leaving little love bites everywhere you could reach.

Your hands roamed her body, squeezing her hips, rubbing her sides, ghosting over her breasts, slipping under her shirt to feel the soft skin of her stomach. You were soon humping against her, huffing and whining in her ear all while you did.

“Y/N.” Tara whispered, inhaling sharply when you cupped her breasts under her shirt, “T-the soup.”

“Fuck the soup.” You grumbled, squeezing her soft breasts while grinding your hips against her ass, “I want you for dinner.”

She whimpered at your words, blushing heavily from the noises you were producing. You were panting in her ear, whispering her name like it was the last thing you would ever say, and it was making her knees weak.

Wordlessly, you placed one hand on her back to bend her over the counter, keeping your other hand on her hip to guide her however you pleased. She seemed to vibrate in your hold, unsure of what you wanted her to do and choosing to carefully follow along instead.

“You’ve been overworking yourself.” You said breathlessly, pathetically humping into her, “You need a break.”

Your thumbs hooked into the waistband of her sleep shorts, pulling them off and letting them fall around her ankles. You then removed your boxers, kicking them behind you before kneeling on the ground.

You nudged her legs apart, giving her thigh a little nibble before leaning in to run your tongue through her folds. She jumped, letting out a vocal gasp at the feeling. You licked up her slick, moaning at the taste of her before finding her entrance and pushing your tongue inside.

“Shit, Y/N!” Tara cried out, letting her hips push back against your tongue, “Ah~!”

You hummed, making her moan pleasantly, and buried your face closer into her heat. Your teeth caught her clit each time your jaw opened wider, which caused her knees to begin to shake. Out of fear of her potentially collapsing, you removed your face from between her thighs while she whined in protest.

“Wha-.” Tara started to say, before stopping when she felt your cock run though her folds, “Y/N.”

“Hm.” You replied, smiling as you watched her arousal leak around the head of your penis.

“I swear to god,” She breathed, turning her head to the side to acknowledge you, “If you don’t stop teaSING!”

Her statement ended in a shrill scream when you swiftly pushed into her, your thick shaft stretching her far apart. Your hand went around to cup her mouth, leaning over her to whisper next to her ear.

“Stay quiet, or the neighbors will kill us.” You purred, before standing back up with her hips in your hands.

You didn’t give her a chance to protest, letting your hips pull back and slam back into hers in a rhythmic motion. You squeezed the fat of her ass, thrusting your cock deep inside of her. She whimpered from each trust, the painful feeling of you splitting her apart mixed with the awareness that you were hitting her g-spot each time, made her see stars in her eyes.

You kept your focus on your cock appearing and disappearing inside of her, biting your lips at her puffy and soaked folds. Her ass jiggled with each pound you gave her, bouncing back and forth from the force you produced. It was an attractive sight, a hot one.

“Damn babe, you’re so thicc.” You mumble to her, a moan tumbling from her mouth in response, “I could fuck this pussy all day.”

One of your hands slid up to her back, pressing down so her back would go into a pretty arch. Your other hand went down to find her clit, pressing and rolling it to the rhythm of your thrusts. She let out a cry, her head dropping onto the counter from the different stimulation.

You felt a sudden gush of wetness on your cock, and looked back down to see a new layer of cum on your abdomen. A smirk graced your face, and you turned your attention back to Tara’s moans and cries of your name. Your hips stilled, cock stuffed deep inside of her cunt.

“Did I say you could cum?” You asked her, reaching under to press on the large bulge in her stomach, “Or did you just decide to disobey me?”

“F-fuck.” She sobbed, reaching back to attempt to push your hand away from her, but you didn’t move, “Y/N please.”

“Please what? You have a mouth, you can use it.”

“I…I can’t…” She cut herself off with a cry when you added more pressure to the bulge, “Ah~!”

“If you wanna act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” You growled, rocking your palm into her stomach while your hips started to pick up pace.

Tara let out a wail of pleasure, her eyes squeezing shut when you gyrated your hips into hers. The head of your cock pressed against her g-spot with each thrust you produced, making her chant your name like a church prayer. You let your hand slid up from her clit and back to her hip, giving yourself leverage to search for her sweet spot while you fucked her.

You drilled your hips into her, still pressing on the bulge while pushing her hips left and right to find the sensitive spot that would make her cry for you to stop and beg for more at the same time. With a aggressive pound, you felt the spongy texture of her sweet spot and focused your attention there.

It was too much for Tara, with the pressure on her stomach and the repeated thrusts against her sensitive spot, she all but collapsed onto the counter with a weak mewl. Pitiful whimpers exited through her mouth each time you railed into that spongy spot, white spots appearing in her sight.

You leaned over her, your other hand coming up and threading into her hair. You pulled her head back, arching her back more for you while you fucked her dumb. Her knee’s threatened to buckle under your weight, but before she could she felt a soft ‘pop’ inside of her.

Suddenly, an abundant amount of pleasure shot through her, causing her to grip the counter and scream your name from the feeling. You nuzzled your face into her neck, using the last of your energy to push you both over the edge of your orgasms.

Tara went first, her body tensing and a pathetically broken cry of your name leaving her mouth before she went limp. You followed suit, pulling her hips tight against yours and letting the hot knot snap. Your cum pumped deep into her pussy, soothing her walls with the warm liquid.

“Jesus.” You mumbled, hips still humping, “I wish i could stay in your cunt forever.”

Tara whined, unable to form a sentence let alone words at all. You got the hint though, taking your hand away from her belly to place on her hips so you could pull out. She groaned when you did, the release of pressure making it feel like her stomach was dropping. You responded with kisses on her spine, slowly dragging your cock out of her.

As soon as you were out, she slipped down to her knees, letting her forehead rest against the cold wood of the cabinet door. She exhaled softly, letting out a quiet ‘mmmm’ when your hand ran up her back. You had already cleaned yourself up and put your clothes back on, now you just needed to help your girlfriend do the same.

“Baby.” You said to her, rubbing in between her shoulder blades, “Can I pick you up?”

Tara nodded weakly, groaning slightly when you hooked your arms under her to pick her up. Once she was settled in your arms, you left the kitchen and went to your bedroom, wordlessly heading towards the bathroom.

You set her on her feet, letting her lean her full weight into you while you got her out of her loose shirt. You then had her lean against the wall so you could start a bath for her. Once the tub was filled, you helped her into the warm water, her body shaking slightly from the lack of energy she had.

You pressed a kiss to her temple, telling her you would be back after you turned the stove off. She replied with a hum and a nod, weakly waving you away. Hurriedly, you went to the kitchen to turn the burner off and move the pot over before jogging back to your bathroom.

“The soup smells good.” You said, grabbing her shampoo and conditioner so you could wash her hair, “I bet it will taste even better.”

“If you’re still trying to distract me from studying, it ain’t happening.” Tara mumbled, sighing when you began to massage the shampoo into her wet hair, “I can’t fail this test.”

“You wouldn’t even if you didn’t study Tar.” You replied, tilting her head back to rinse the suds out with a cup of water, “You need to relax.”

“Is breaking my back considered relaxing?” She teased, reaching up to run her fingers along your bicep, “Cause that was just an energy drainer.”

“I thought it was quite good.” You retorted, massaging the conditioner into her scalp before adding quietly, “But i’m sorry if it wasn’t enjoyable for you.”

Tara snorted, slapping your hand away before reaching up and grabbing your face to pull your lips to hers. She kissed you lovingly, smiling into it while rubbing your cheeks with her thumbs.

“You were fantastic love.” She praised, kissing your nose a few times before letting you go, “It was very enjoyable for me.”

“Phew, I thought you didn’t like any of it and then I was gonna feel like a dick for the rest of my life.” You said, wiping imaginary sweat off of your forehead.

“Awww baby.” Tara cooed, poking your chin with a wet finger, “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t like it.”

You nodded, leaning your head into the palm of her hand. She giggled and leaned up to kiss you again, letting your hearts intertwine in the peaceful bathroom glow.

—————————

happy bday @tonyspank

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

You know, all I want is to spend some time with Nikto on his off-days and have him read Dostoyevski to me, if you don't want to make this like a single fic you can maybe incorporate it into "ravishing allure" some time later 🥹

"…and there can be no love otherwise."

PAIRINGS: Nikto x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: If anyone could make the bad days better, it was Nikto.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: Stress from work/life, lack of sleep, mostly fluff, comfort, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There were times you wondered if putting up with your job was really worth it. Sure, you needed the money to pay rent, food, and bills, among a laundry list of others that just seemed to never end, but was the cost of your sleep the metaphorical soul you had to hand over? 

Every day you came home tired to your little apartment—neighbors loud and the light in the bathroom flickering because the electrician had never shown up to fix it. Tired, but unable to fall asleep until everything else was done. So, you’d make dinner, clean, shower, sit down to mindlessly watch a show on TV for half an hour, and then stumble into bed. 

Only to stay awake and stare at the ceiling. 

You can’t say why you do it, thinking over the things you did wrong and the awkward conversations you have with coworkers; you shouldn’t care about it—really, you shouldn't. Yet you can’t stop your brain from slipping like a slide to every instance, every millisecond where you felt the air of the interaction change. Side-eyes and confused looks. 

And then at six o’clock, you’d drag yourself out of bed with bags on your face and a drained expression to do it all over again. 

“Hi, how can I help you today?” 

“Oh, of course, we have some in the back—I’ll go grab it for you.”

“Thank you! You have a good day now, Sir. Come back soon.”

It just felt fake. Greet, help, take money, wave and smile, repeat, repeat, repeat. But maybe today would be slightly different, by the second pair of shoes that were placed in your apartment entry as you slowly opened the front door. 

Boots—black and set an equal distance apart with a cleaned surface despite the places they’d been and what they’d probably stepped through. They were neatly situated under the small bench you had for convenience, and you blink at them as you softly shut the door and lock it. A large, and matching in color, jacket was folded and placed atop the flat surface—keys sitting in an indent. 

Nikto, ever the neat and tidy one. He must be back then. 

While the two of you didn’t live together, the bear of a man had made a habit of coming over when he returned from deployments with KorTac—you’d given him a key the second year you’d been together. 

Your ears faintly twitch to the sound of cooking, nose moving just a second later to the scent of something on the stove. Clinking pans and silent footsteps. He knew you were here, sure as anything. Weakly sighing, you shift out of your jacket and shoes; tossing them in the general direction of the bench as you rub at your eyes and drop your purse to the floor with a slap of canvas. 

How do you explain looking like shit? 

Shuffling into the kitchen, you undo some of the buttons on your blouse to let yourself breathe, dress pants running along the carpet as your feet pad like a hound’s slapping paws. Vision blurry and eyelids threatening to close on you, you find the tall man in front of the stove, moving something in a pan with sizzling oils with the wide flex of his shoulders.

On another burner, there’s a large pot of simmering water—the counter has already been cleaned up of flour and mess, a tidy pile of dirty items sitting in the sink to be washed. You stare for a second before you grumble a hello, forcing your body to sag into his back as you walk over and slap your forehead into his spine. 

Nikto grunts lowly in response and continues what he’s doing. 

While it wasn’t rare to find him in the kitchen—in fact, you prefer it when he cooks—but usually when he got back you opted to order supper. He always insisted, gruffly, that he wasn’t tired, but you just wanted him to relax.

It was fun to baby him. 

“Didn’t know you were going to be back today,” you whisper into him, arms hanging by your sides. 

“We were released early,” his voice is deep and harsh—a bark of his Russian accent and rasp. Every word is thought out and said with purpose. “Conflict in schedule.”

You hum lowly, and it’s immediately after that Nikto stiffens, back going straighter. It’s the fact that you don’t even notice that you’ve completely screwed up your own routine that tips him off; how your change in pace had made him initially suspicious as he’d heard you enter the apartment. 

You hadn't commented on his eyes. Hadn’t tried to get him to turn around to see them. 

There was a running gag that Nikto tolerated—you’d grab him carefully by the chin and tilt his blank eyes to you in all of their icy glory. Sparks of glass and chilled storms inlay near the pupils. You’d stare, smile, and then say, “Yup, he’s still in there.” 

Even if you couldn’t see it under his balaclava, Nikto’s lips would part and he’d study your face for a minute in silence, before lightly bonking his forehead to yours. A strange and unique kiss that only he could perfect in his intimidating way. 

You hadn’t even attempted that. 

Nikto puts down the fork he was using to push around the fried potatoes and mushrooms; Pelmeni still simmering in the pot for another five minutes. The cut-up dill and melted butter on the counter are pushed from his mind with a purpose in his veins.

“What is wrong with you?” Nikto turns and you stifle a fatigued snort as you look up at him. It wasn’t his fault, of course. English isn’t his first language, and you found his broken, or sometimes bare-bones blunt, sentences to be endearing.

“Such a way with words, hm?” You can’t help but tease, and you can see the annoyed furrow of his brown brows, nose huffing a breath. “Just tired, Nikto.” Your words make his gaze slide along the very visible bags and the red veins of your eyes. 

He mutters something in Russian under his breath, lids narrowing on you as he grasps your shoulders and moves you back so he can look you up and down slowly in a near clinical breakdown of atoms. As if he can peel back clothes and splay nerves to light. 

“You look horrible…Sickly.” You can see the brain working as your lips go into a line to stay off your loud laugh. “Like dead woman walking.”

He was so much better with actions than words, this beast of wide shoulders and shifting thighs that could crush your bones to dust in an instant. You liked that about him—you never had to guess when he was being genuine or not.

“Work’s been rough,” you chuckle lowly, sliding on a fake smile that doesn’t fool him for a second. “Nothing I can’t…figure out, okay? Thanks for making supper, I love when you cook.”

Nikto’s eyes soften just a smidge, his hands holding your flesh just the littlest bit tighter. His expansive chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh, the bulk of his stomach and pecs visible under the tucked black t-shirt and his spare cargo pants.

Without a word, you’re being lifted with little more than a huff of, “моя нежная девочка… keep awake.”

You squeak as you’re settled onto his shoulder, hanging off like a sack of grain as his arm wraps over the top of your tailbone—large other hand on your thigh and fingers firmly grasping your skin. 

“Nikto—!”

“Hush,” he grunts, a bark of a chuckle wafting out as your hand playfully hits his back with a pathetic slap. The man raises a brow, smirking under his face covering. “What do you expect to do with that, girl?” 

“To let you know,” you poke at his spine and he shifts your farther down his shoulder in retaliation as you scramble and grasp at his shirt; giggling as your head sways to his steps. “That I won't go quietly!” 

“Good to know,” he grumbles. “I would want nothing less, eh?” 

His hands make sure that you don’t fall, even if you were to start wiggling or slipping.

You go limp and let him carry you into the living room, face burning with appreciation as your limbs let themselves rest. Nikto slings you back over his shoulder and drops you to the couch as you laugh, head purposely hitting the pillow as your chest rises and falls with breaths. 

The man stares down at you as you chuckle in gasps, always one to stare at any chance he gets. His arms crossed at his chest, feet apart, and shadow slipping over you from the overhead light. You gaze up silently, a smile on your lips, and quizzically raise to your brow.

“Stay,” is what he says to you, icy vision sliding down your body with a hum of approval. He sends a teasing slap to your thigh before striding back into the kitchen, narrowly missing your leg kicking out at his arse. 

Nikto scoffs at your attempt and disappears.

Normally you’d run at him and jump on his back, hanging off like an animal, but being as fatigued as you are, you call a mumbled curse at his name and curl sideways. Your face nuzzles into the pillow, smiling lightly before you let your eyes momentarily close.

You must have taken a quick nap because it seemed not even a second later that you were being shaken awake by a hand on your arm; spreading up to run over your cheek as your lashes flutter. “Милая.” You sigh, vision blurry and your head pounding. A strong scent hits your nose and you perk—rubbing at your eyes and face. “Eat.”

A plate of fried potatoes with mushrooms and another bowl of Pelmeni are on the coffee table, and the former is shoved into your face by a strong hand, the small dumplings topped with melted butter and dill. 

“Pelmeni,” Nikto states in a monotone, blinking at you as if you don’t know his own culture’s food by now. He made them often enough, which was why you liked him so much—food was truly the way to your love.

You’d taken up baking some of Nikto’s favorite desserts once, had failed horribly, and left most of the kitchen work to him—but the funny thing was that whenever you did bake, the man still always cleaned his plate. You’d never seen him turn down your food, even when you could see his eyes scrunch with restrained aversion.

“Да,” he would grunt out, “good.” It was so strained you always laughed so hard your lungs hurt after. On the off-hand, Nikto’s skills in the kitchen were enough to get you to sell your car for just another bite. 

Sitting up, you carefully take the bowl and look up at him, smiling deeply. 

“Thank you, Nik.” The man hums and turns his head away, still unused to outright affection even two years in. “Nikto~” you draw out his name, tilting your head to the side and trying to catch his gaze again. 

“Silence, woman,” he growls with no real heat, huffing before carefully placing his forehead to yours again as you expected him to. You giggle and stare into his eyes smugly. 

You knew what he was waiting for. Your blood runs hot, face going into a picture of care. His blues blink at you as snowflakes mingle with mist; a mix of cold and desolate landscapes that offer no reprieve from harm besides the small glint of fire they gain when they lock with yours. 

“Yup,” you whisper, and Nikto’s shoulders loosen as he presses more deeply into your skin. “He’s still in there.” 

He stares intensely, and the faintest of twitches under his balaclava tell you all you need to know. 

Nikto makes sure you eat your fill and when you’re done he takes the dishes and washes them while you shower and get into pajamas. Sluggish, but warmed by a full stomach and your boyfriend’s care. You come out to find he’s already reclining on the couch, book in hand as the other bends behind his neck. Lights were low and the heat turned up. Nikto opens his side to you and your body snuggles next to him—it had taken a long time to earn his trust like this; to be near him and to freely give affection.

It would be longer still until you saw his face, but you can live with that. There was no rush, and you knew it was a large soft spot even if he’d never shared the details as to why.

You sigh deeply and Nikto grunts, moving his arm behind your back and keeping you to his chest as he reads. 

This is a common sight from him, and he begins reading to you in his mother tongue from the works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the grit and gravel of his voice sliding into words and sensations as you practically feel it coming from his chest and throat. Your head situates itself under his chin, feeling his free hand playing with your hair until you go brain-dead except to the way he feels and sounds. Harsh words had never been more gentle.

Halfway through he switches to English, his sentences now more slow and thought out and your lashes flutter; breath soft as you take in his scent of oakmoss and amber. His heart beats steady and true. 

“‘To love is to suffer,’” he reads, fingers rubbing circles into your clothes and letting you sleep as the day grows faster into a cold night. He glances down with easy eyes, gripping you just a bit closer as your body entirely goes limp in his embrace. “‘...And there can be no love otherwise.’” 

He silences himself and watches for a moment before he closes the book, dropping it silently to the coffee table and staring past you at the ceiling. The man feels your warmth bleed into his scarred and damaged skin and whispers something akin to vindication.

Nikto listens to your steady breathing and holds you. Steady. Noiseless. 

He grunts to himself and only presses you closer.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine arguing with Sanji in the kitchen and holding up service…

The kitchen at Baratie was heating up and it wasn’t from the flaming stovetops or pre-heated ovens.

There was a wicked, hot tension between yourself and Sanji and it was making the rest of the kitchen staff sweat. No one knew what had caused the new dynamic but they quickly learnt to stay a safe distance from the pair after Patty accidentally fanned the flame. Now they only interacted with the duo when required.

Sanji was chopping vegetables for his soup that was almost ready to simmer while you silently iced some cakes on the station beside him. Both regretting the request to cook next to one another.

The blonde-haired chef finished dicing the last of the carrots and picked up the board to hold over the pot. He gently swept the vegetables into the broth with the knife. Setting the utensils back down, Sanji inhaled the beautiful aroma that was starting to perfume the air. His hand reached out for his spoon but his fingers met empty air.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “I’d like my spoon back.”

Your eyes were fixed on the patterns being made on the soft pieces of sponge but your ears picked up that his tone was directed toward you.

“I don’t have it.” You offered simply without breaking focus.

Sanji turned to you, eyes squinting. “Really? Because I recall that you used it last to mix the cake batter.”

It was your turn to exhale. “I did and I washed it thoroughly before setting it back on the table.”

“Well, it’s not here.”

“Then pull out another one.” You snapped.

Sanji lowered the heat of his soup so it wouldn’t burn before returning to glare at you. “Why should I have to when you’re the one who-”

Splat! The cook’s eyes went wide as the cold vanilla cream dripped from his chin, lips tasting its sweetness.

You now stood upright holding the bag of frosting, brows knitted to match the frown on your face.

“I didn’t take your damn spoon.”

The doors to the kitchen opened with their familiar heaviness and a wooden footstep hit the tiles.

“Why is there no soup or cakes out on the floor?” Zeff asked as he entered.

The kitchen that had gone quiet during the public argument suddenly sprang to life and scrambled to resume duties. Zeff’s eyes floated to the two in charge of the slowed menu line and his eyes narrowed.

“Why on earth are you tasting the desserts, Little Eggplant?” He inquired, approaching the bench.

Sanji’s hands flew to gesture your entire being. “Y/n is literally holding the bag. I’m a victim here!”

Zeff held a hand up to silence the boy and set his gaze on you. “You know that we don’t waste food here. Explain yourself.”

You shrugged. “He accused me of losing his spoon so I did what had to be done. I’m not apologising.”

Zeff blinked, jaw dropping slightly.

“A spoon.” He repeated slowly before his voice, and temper, was unleashed. “You two held up service because of a damn spoon!”

You held up your hands in defence. “I told him to just use another one but he was stubborn about it.”

Sanji didn’t take kindly to being thrown under the bus, rounding on you while completely ignoring the steam blowing out of Zeff’s ears.

“Excuse me but that is my special soup spoon. You’re lucky that I even let you borrow it.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s a spoon, Sanji. It’s not the All Blue.”

“You know what-?”

“I’ve heard enough!” Zeff bellowed, his voice sending vibrations through the glassware. “Mix the soup with a rolling pin for all I care. Just get it out to the customers along with those cakes or you’re both on dish duty for two months. Am I clear?”

Receiving a grumbled reply, the owner of the Baratie marched off.

A few stations away, Patty stealthily pulled a towel to cover the wooden handle of the missing utensil. It was too late to reveal the small prank without being boiled alive or baked into a pie.

With the tension still rising, Patty decided to lock them in a cupboard after the shift.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: Heading back to the office tomorrow with a 5am wake up but here I lay at 12am dishing out some Baratie mania (with more to come). No regrets.

[theladyofmanyfandomsafterhours]

Better Served Warm.

Sanji x Reader

Explicit | NSFW | 18+ only

Warnings: Heavy smut under the cut. It’s purely self-indulgent.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Sanji, should we even be doing this here?” You asked through the kisses as the chef slowly pushed you further until your back was laying against the kitchen bench. The cool surface a wonderful welcome against your fiery skin.

You heard Sanji pant softly, his hands had finished discarding your clothes. His mouth abandoned yours and began their journey down your body, their destination being exactly where his fingers were toying with your sensitivity.

“This room - is for eating.” Sanji replied, lips now nearing your belly button. The ticklish nature of the spot made you squirm the lower he went - again and again until…

“Sanji…” you moaned when his mouth pressed the top of your folds. Humming, you threw your head back missing the way he smirked at the reaction.

“Relax, love. You taste exquisite when it’s warm and the juices are fresh.” He said.

Fuck. His phrasing was going to break the tightly wound coil on its own if he kept going like this.

Sanji’s fingers crept into the mix and you felt them touch the entrance - slowly parting them wider despite being so slippery.

“And when you’re opened up just enough,” you closed your eyes. He was going to be the death of you. “I can taste every flavour.”

Sanji’s tongue was hot and you felt it swirl on the inner surface before it pushed inside, curling around whatever wetness it could find and delivering it back for the cook to swallow.

The mental image was all that you clung on to. If you looked down and saw his blonde-hair between your legs - it would be over.

There was a sudden strange pressure like suction and you covered your mouth when you realised that Sanji had started sucking. His fingers stretching the folds a little more while his elbows tried to spread your legs wider.

It was like he had been starved.

The sounds he made were dizzying. When he finally pulled off, his pressed a light kiss against the skin and saw the way it clenched involuntarily.

“I need you to refill.” Sanji looked up, to where you were avoiding his face. He moved his fingers to allow your entrance to close but left two inside to stop anything from spilling and going to waste.

With his free hand, Sanji swirled a pattern under your navel. “I know it’s ready. Simmering right under here.” He said lustfully. “Come on, love. Don’t let me go hungry.”

You felt his fingers prod in your entrance and you gasped. How was he relentless and so sweet? Giving in, you lowered your head and saw how he was positioned. With one hand pumping itself into you while the other rest on top, it almost felt like you were being prepped.

Looking into his eyes, you noticed his lips slightly tinted from where he had licked them repeatedly after almost sucking you dry. That thought in itself was enough to release the pent up tension - and Sanji knew it.

He smirked. “That’s it.” He cooed as his fingers felt your body clamp down around him to prepare for the flood. Sanji glanced at where his hand had been tracing and pressed a little firmly. “Come on, let it spill.”

You cried out softly as you released everything you had to offer but you didn’t feel relieved - as if there was more to go but it was… blocked. That’s when you remembered that Sanji had you plugged up so your spend couldn’t properly escape.

“Sanji, I need - there’s too much - I can’t…” your pleading was incoherent but Sanji knew exactly what you were trying to say.

Smiling, he bent down to your entrance now able to hear the soft squelch of his fingers against the opening and readied himself.

After this was over, Sanji would refill your body with his hot ropes matching each drop but first, he’d devour everything you had made for him.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/n: Anyone else a little hot and bothered here?

[valkyriexo]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾Late night thoughts 001☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Chan, who one day steps in through the door, his usually vibrant and bubbly energy drained, replaced by a heavy weight on his shoulders. He offers a faint smile in greeting, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes, and you can sense something's off immediately.

Concerned, you abandon your cooking momentarily and approach him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Channie?" you ask softly, noting the tension in his posture. "Are you alright?"

He exhales heavily, his shoulders slumping as he leans into your touch. Tears shimmer in his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he remains quiet, his emotions simmering beneath the surface. 

The silence between you is heavy, with the tension building as the seconds go by.

Slowly, he meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing. You can see the thoughts raging within him, the struggle to keep his emotions in check, his body trembling. 

 "Baby," you whisper gently, your voice barely above a murmur, "Please, talk to me. Let me help you." You reach out to rub his hand soothingly, feeling the tension in his grip. Your fingers glide over his, tracing delicate patterns as you offer a comforting touch

"Please," he pleads quietly, so quietly you almost miss it. "Just... just hold me? I need you so much right now." His voice is raw with desperation, each word carrying the weight of his pain.

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, feeling the weight of his exhaustion and the burden of his responsibilities, pressing against you. Chan's shoulders shake as he finally succumbs to the torrent of emotions that have been building inside him. Tears stream down his cheeks in earnest now, his facade crumbling in the safety of your embrace. You hold him tighter, your own tears mingling with his as you whisper words of comfort into the quiet of the room. Your heart aches as Chan's tears soak into your shoulder, his anguish echoing in the hushed atmosphere.

"I-I can't," he stammers, his voice choked with tears, "I don't even know where to start. I feel like I'm drowning, and I can't... I can't breathe."

You stroke his back soothingly, trying to offer whatever comfort you can. 

"I try to be strong, to keep it together," he continues, his words barely audible amidst his sobs, "but some days, it feels like too much. Like I'm suffocating under the weight of it all."

Your heart aches at his words, the pain etched in every line of his face.

"I didn't want to tell you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper, "because I didn't want to burden you. I'm supposed to be strong. I'm supposed to be..... to be the one people rely on."

You cup Chan's face in your hands, drawing his gaze to meet yours. "But who's there for you, Chan?" you press, your eyes searching his. "You need someone to rely on, too."

"I... I never thought about it," he replies, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I didn't want to admit I needed help."

His words hang heavy in the air.

"I'm scared," Chan finally admits, his voice raw, "scared to show weakness, scared to let people see me struggle."

You hold him even tighter, enveloping him in the warmth of your embrace.

"Showing your struggles doesn't make you weak. It makes you human Chan," You say rubbing circles on his back.

"And I love every part of you, even the vulnerable ones. You don't have to hide from me, Chan."

In the quiet of the room, you hold him close, and you can feel his tension gradually going away, his body relaxing against yours. With each passing moment, his rigid posture softens, his breaths steadying against the rhythm of your own.

In the silent embrace, he realizes: all he ever needed was you.

*·˚ᑉ³ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like | © 2024 Valkyriexo  licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 

[yoonavii]

Never popped a request to anyone via tumblr before but ahhh I loved your most recent Sanji fic so much. You're so talented ❤️

If you ever feel inspired, what about something where Sanji joins the crew, and sees how close reader and Zoro are (whether or not Zoro actually does have feelings for reader, idk!), and he gets jealous, until some event or fight and the reader shows how she cares for him and it all comes out in the open

(love me a bit of angst!)

Thank you!!🥺 and Welp, I’m inspired!! I tried my best with this one cause I’ve been a little dusty with angst lately so I apologize in advance. Hope you still enjoy it though!

Jealous

OPLA! Sanji x Reader

After the tumultuous events at the Baratie, Sanji officially joined the Straw Hat Pirates as their skilled cook. Initially, he was thrilled to be part of the crew, living his dream of sailing the Grand Line with an extraordinary group of individuals. However, as the days turned into weeks, he couldn’t help but notice something that gnawed at his heart – your growing closeness to Zoro.

On the surface, it was an inseparable bond formed through countless adventures, battles, and shared moments. You and Zoro seemed like kindred spirits, and it was clear to everyone that you had each other’s backs. They trained together, sparred together, and sometimes, they even spent hours talking about their dreams late into the night.

For Sanji, it was painful to watch. He had harbored deep feelings for you but never found the courage to express them. Instead, he masked his emotions with jealousy, believing that you and Zoro shared a connection that he could never hope to replicate.

As the crew continued their journey, heading toward the tumultuous waters of the conomi islands to save Nami, the tension between Sanji and Zoro escalated. Their arguments, once subtle jabs, had evolved into full-blown conflicts, often ending in physical confrontations. The crew couldn’t ignore the rift growing between them, and their division was affecting their performance in battles.

One day, as the crew faced off against the Fish-Men on the foreboding Arlong Park, the simmering animosity between Sanji and Zoro reached its boiling point. The battlefield became a stage for their pent-up anger to explode. Swords clashed against kicks, and fists met with blades in a cacophony of violence. You, exhausted from fighting alongside your bickering crewmates, couldn’t take it any longer. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you stepped boldly between Sanji and Zoro, ignoring the danger of the ongoing battle. “Enough!” you roared, your voice cutting through the chaos. “We can’t afford to be divided like this, especially in a battle like this one!”

Sanji and Zoro froze, their faces flushed with anger, but they both turned their attention to you. Your presence had an immediate calming effect. You took a deep breath, then continued, “Sanji, Zoro, we’re a crew. We’re a family. And I can’t stand to see you two at odds like this.” Sanji’s expression softened as he listened intently to your words. You took a step closer to him, your voice quivering slightly with vulnerability. “Sanji, you should know that I care about you deeply. It’s not just about Zoro and me. I want us all to be close and support each other. If it’s causing you pain, then let’s find a way to work through it.”

Sanji’s heart raced as he absorbed your confession. He never expected to hear those words from you. Slowly, he nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I… I feel the same way y/n. I was just being stupidly jealous.” You reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, your touch gentle and reassuring. “Let’s put this behind us, Sanji. We can be together as a crew, as friends, and as something more, if you want.”

With the tension diffused, Sanji and Zoro exchanged a begrudging nod of understanding. The three of you returned to the battle, but this time, there was a newfound unity among the Straw Hat Pirates. While they hadn’t completely resolved their differences, they had taken the first steps toward mutual respect, recognizing that they each had their unique strengths and weaknesses. The bonds of the crew were stronger than ever, and as you fought side by side, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that you had mended a broken heart and solidified the crew’s unbreakable spirit.

As the sun set on Arlong Park, a feeling of hope and reconciliation washed over the crew. Sanji and Zoro had begun to understand that their differences could be complementary rather than divisive, and with your support, they would continue to grow and adapt as a unified crew. The journey continued, marked by a deeper sense of camaraderie, love, and acceptance, proving that even in the face of jealousy and conflict, the bonds of friendship could prevail and grow stronger.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

[cottonlemonade]

Making Up After A Fight

word count: 756 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst with happy ending

warnings: none, just Oikawa being hard on himself and insecure

____________________________________________

Oikawa hates fighting as much as you do.

But sometimes it was inevitable. His training schedule had been crazy, the coach had scolded him for putting too much pressure on his bad knee and he was frustrated with himself for delivering, as he thought, disappointing performances on the court lately.

And unfortunately, you were the best girlfriend through all of this. Something he should be happy about, but like many times before it just made him realize that he didn't deserve you.

He couldn't give you the time he wanted. He wished more than anything that you would just tell him how disappointed you were in the relationship and in him, for not being good enough, there enough, doting enough - he hated it. He hated every second, because he knew that when he got to his phone at the end of training, a sweet and loving message would wait for him, saying that you missed him. You would have maybe sent a picture of something cute that reminded you of him during your day or suggested something to do together on his next day off. It was infuriating that you never blamed him for not being the boyfriend he should be.

So it came as no surprise that one night after practice, when he was over at your place, he snapped. He just arrived, took off his shoes and smelled the lovely home cooked meal that was simmering on the stove. You came to greet him, smiling tiredly but genuinely happy to see him and he couldn't take it anymore. He started yelling and gesturing, asking you why you even bothered with him, told you how you weren't right for him, that you made him feel like garbage, turned on his heels, grabbed his shoes and left.

You stood in the doorway of your kitchen, not knowing, not understanding what had just happened but you also knew that he had never yelled at you before. Ever. Sure you'd seen him frustrated and stressed but even then his outbursts were never directed at you. Not like this.

Tears started to fill your eyes. You grabbed your phone, wanting to call him, had already one arm in your jacket to go after him, but decided against it.

The phone in your hand buzzed but it was only a text from your friend asking about your day. You typed a nondescript reply, not wanting them to worry and promised to call tomorrow.

Now only silence filled your apartment. Silence and the taunting smell of an untouched dinner.

You paced a while up and down your living room, throwing tentative glances through your window to see if you could maybe spot him on the dark street below. But nothing.

You started several messages to Tooru but deleted them before hitting send - none of them sounded right.

Not knowing what else to do, you put the now cold dinner into the fridge, took a shower and headed to bed, unable to stop more tears rolling onto the pillow.

You heard the front door unlock at around 1 am, but didn't know if you just imagined it in your half sleep state.

A soft knock came from your bedroom door. You weren’t exactly in the mood to talk, so you stayed quiet. Another soft knock and the door opened slowly. For the longest moment Oikawa just stood in the doorway, looking at your, he assumed, sleeping form.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and then shrugged off his jacket to sit on the bed. Slowly, carefully, he laid down behind you, moving closer to wrap his arm around your soft waist.

"Are you awake?", he murmured.

You shifted slightly to show him you were.

"I'm really sorry.", he whispered gingerly into the crook of your neck, "You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise. It's just with the training and my screw ups at the last match and you have been so great about it all and-"

You heard his throat closing up as he nuzzled closer to you, "I really don't know how you put up with it. I'm never around, I never have time to do normal couple stuff, I mess up your sleep schedule and you never complain. I feel horrible."

You finally turn around to face him. "Well, I am mad at you now, if that makes you feel better."

He had to chuckle through his tears and bit his lip, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. "I love you, darling."

You snuggled into his chest and entwined your fingers with his. "I love you, too."

____________________________________________

[ovaryacted]

Autumn Delight

Pairing: DI!Leon x fem!reader

Summary: As you cook to welcome the change in season, your daughter plays grocery shopping with her father.

WC: 2.1k

Notes: After reading @cinnarette write for girl dad!Leon, I wanted to add on to the hype and do some fluff because that man deserves it and I want him happy. Also I know I said Death Island Leon for this one, but I imagine him older. Anyways, enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing this one. Reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

The sun shined through the window as you hummed to yourself, the pot in front of you blowing off steam and filling the kitchen with the aroma of sweet tomatoes and fresh herbs. The scent felt nostalgic, like a soft weighted blanket that reminded you of what your mom would make for dinner after you came home from school.

The season was slowly transitioning into autumn now, a more prominent breeze shaking the leaves as they began to change color from their vibrant greens to shades of orange and dark red. Warm air now starting to cool down every passing day, tank tops and shorts exchanged for sweat pants and cotton crew necks. Soon enough, it’ll be time to go apple picking and welcome all things pumpkin, you mostly looked forward to having apple cider come back in stock at your local grocery store. 

A loaf of fresh sourdough bread rested in front of you, already knowing the cheese you needed for this meal was cooling in the fridge, ready to be melted to your heart’s delight. Grilled cheese and tomato soup were on the menu tonight, a nice hearty meal to welcome the first day of fall. You covered the pot of tomato soup, letting it simmer for a while longer. As you were ready to step to the side and tend to other tasks, you heard rambling on the upper floor of your townhouse, already knowing where the source of the noise was coming from.

Stepping out of the kitchen entirely, you went up the stairs, careful not to be too loud as your slippers moved over the hardwood steps. Walking down the hallway of the second floor, you continued until you were met with the white door to your left, wide open for you to take in the view inside.

Your husband was on his knees, surrounded by pastel green walls and soft carpet. Toys were all over the floor, a Barbie dollhouse in one corner of the room and a plastic play kitchen in the other. You leaned against the doorway and let out a snort, trying not to draw attention to the 3-year-old who walked around her bedroom with purpose. The man’s eyes were drawn to yours at the sound of your laughing, vibrant blues paired with soft wrinkles on the rounded corners of his gaze. A pearly white grin came your way, one that drew you to him all those years ago.

“You know, this place is quite small. Limited options”, Leon said, pushing a toy shopping cart that was comically small against him and skimming the shelf in front of him. He tilted his head to the side, finger on his chin as he thought heavily about what to grab next. Of course, he took this decision seriously, looking at the plastic toys resembling different foods from fake cereal boxes to ketchup bottles and eggs.

He reached forward and took a can of tuna, putting it in the cart and moving along. The cart was already full of a few things, plastic fruits and vegetables that were completely necessary. You watched him move around, going to the mini-kitchen that was set up on one side of the room.

“A drumstick in the sink? This is such a safety hazard for a grocery store”, Leon grumbled, knowing his daughter was right behind him, watching him diligently like a good sales associate. Her matching dirty blonde hair and blue eyes looked over him as he reached for the misplaced doll currently folded in the tiny microwave. He tried his hardest not to laugh, putting the doll back where he found it and gave you a glance.

Leon continued to shift around the room, finding plastic cookies on the floor and throwing them in the buggy with dramatic flare. He leaned down on the ground and found more toys littering around him. Grapes were underneath the toddler bed, toy crackers were in the hot tub in the dollhouse, and singular hot dog sausages were thrown in every nook and cranny imaginable.

Just looking at the room was stress-inducing, but the agent didn’t have the heart to be mad or irritated. If anything he was glad to have a mess like this to deal with in the first place. Had someone told him years ago he’d be happily married in a townhouse he bought with a three year old daughter that was his carbon copy, he’d laugh in their face. The image of having a loving family was a dream he had thrown away after the horrors he witnessed at 21. Being exposed to such monstrosities almost fully turned him away from ever thinking of having something more in his life besides fighting manmade monsters. He never thought he’d be able to have a life worth living outside of survival.

That was until miraculously, he bumped into you when he went to try a new cafe that opened in town. Years later having regained that dream he buried deep in his subconscious, he gets to be in a home full of love he never thought he’d get to experience. He has a reason to wake up every day, something and someone to fight for, and he wouldn’t take that for granted.

Leon shook his head and blinked at the sound of your voice, your eyes looking over him once or twice already knowing what happened. He zones out less as he gets older, but it still happens from time to time. Before, his memories used to haunt him, the traumas and burdens he carried would make his nervous system go haywire and put him in a constant state of paranoia. Now, he has moments where he’s reminiscing about his past and feels gratitude instead of self-hatred or fear. You didn’t mind, you accepted all parts of Leon with open arms, even the parts he couldn’t accept himself, and if it weren’t for your support lord knows where he’d be now.

“Hm?”, he hummed, giving you a look and silently admiring you like he often did, as if you were his guardian angel sent to ground him to this current reality.

“I asked if you could pick up some ice cream on your shopping trip”, you told him softly, your daughter now distracted and leaving her post at her fake cash register to collect all of the individual chip pieces she could find.

“Thanks for reminding me hun”, Leon said now returning to the present, shuffling to another part of the room to look for the ice cream pieces. He could only find the plastic waffle cone, not the strawberry ice cream scoop. With a shrug, he put it in the shopping cart as you held in your giggle with a bite of your lip.

Finally facing his daughter, he pushed the cart towards where she stood. Out of the kindness of his heart, he helped the toddler scan and swipe the toys, her small grabby hands reaching for whatever food item he gave her. It was moments like this you enjoyed the most, seeing just how much Leon loves the child you both created and how he treats her like the center of his universe. She’ll never fully understand just how much her dad cares for her, pure unconditional love if you ever saw it.

You couldn’t be more proud to see Leon become the father he never had, and the man he’s always wanted to be.

Leon now started to talk with his mini-twin, giving her sassy remarks as her tiny fingers threw the things she scanned back into his cart rather aimlessly.

“What? No bag? You’ve got to be kidding me”, he teased, playing the part of an angry customer all too well for your child to realize. She wagged a finger at him and pressed the button of the scanner towards his face, a beep sounding through the room as she did. She responded to him with an equal amount of sass, making you snicker under your breath and Leon had to bite his tongue so he didn’t follow you. Not only did your child inherit her father’s most noticeable features, she also got his corniness and attitude.

She continued to scan and beep all of the items until there was nothing left to pass, looking up at Leon with her hand out and demanding him to give the money for his groceries.

“Do you have change for a 20?”, Leon spoke, making you shake your head in disbelief at how dedicated he was in playing his role. He had a fake $20 bill he borrowed from the monopoly board sitting on the coffee table of your living room.

“Mine”, his daughter nodded with a bubbly giggle. She snatched the bill from Leon’s hand with enthusiasm, pressing some buttons on her cash register before the drawer opened with a ding. She pushed the bill inside and closed the drawer with no change in her hand. Leon only gave her a raised eyebrow.

“Wow. Is this how you treat your customers? You know what, I’m just going to go to Trader Joe’s down the block”, Leon playfully threw a hissy fit, making the 3-year-old laugh as she waved at her father and mumbled bye bye.

The blonde got up from his knees with a grunt, walking up towards you and pulling you in by the hips with a smile. Leaning down he kissed you on the cheek, then on the tip of your nose, and finally on your lips as you hummed against him, putting a hand on his chest and the other rubbing the back of his neck. It was an occurring routine of kissing he started years ago when you were still dating, all beginning the day he asked you to officially be his partner.

“You know our daughter is really starting to be more like you every time I see her. I’m getting scared, one of you is enough”, you taunted him, making him chuckle. You couldn’t help but stroke his stubbled cheek, loving the feel of the coarse hairs against your fingers.

“C’mon, you know you can’t get enough of me. I’m not that bad”, he grinned, offering you a corny wink that made you roll your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night”

“I sleep just fine knowing you’re right next to me sweetheart”, he openly flirted with you, a sneaky hand coming towards your rear and giving you a playful tap. “You’re cooking aren’t you?”

“Mhm, grilled cheese and tomato soup, all from scratch”, you told him, noticing how his ears perked up at the sound of cooked food. You learned early on in your relationship that Leon was a foodie and preferred home-cooked dishes above anything else. So you made sure to get your clutches on him by making him some Tuscan chicken pasta, aka marry me pasta, on your 7th dinner date together. Safe to say, he hasn’t left since.

“God I love you”, he declared so frankly and so often that you knew he meant it. You never questioned his devotion to you, and you can tell from the way he says it as if it’ll be the last time that it’s always sincere. 

“I know, you would go hungry without me. I love you too”, giving him another kiss on his lips and letting him savor it.

You heard a tiny voice coming towards you both, something yanking on Leon’s jeans by the shin and forcing him to pull away from you for a minute. He looked down at the smaller blonde, cerulean eyes matching his own like a reflection of himself.

“Yeah sweet pea, what’s up?”, he turned towards her, reaching down to pick her up in his strong arms like he usually did. “You want some of mommy’s food too?”

“Yes! Sammi!”, it slipped out of her mouth, clapping to herself as she got excited at the mere idea of eating whatever was being made. She was always eager to eat, finding joy in the way she gripped her small spork and made a mess of herself with crumbs on her soft cheeks.

A passionate food lover, just like him.

“Hell yeah. Grilled cheese sammi and tomato soup. Let’s go help mommy cook”, Leon said, carrying his baby girl in his arms and marching down the stairs, allowing you to hear her laugh intertwining with his own. You followed them down the steps, watching your husband tickle your daughter’s tummy, beaming from ear to ear.

A warmth fluttered in your chest, silently watching the way they’d talk and interact with one another that would have anyone think they were the same person. You smiled again, going to the stove to stir the pot of tomato soup before you started on the grilled cheese sandwiches. 

You don’t know how you got here to have all that you did in your life, but you wouldn’t change an absolute thing.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[uch3na]

𝙛𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

paring: farleigh x afabreader

a/n: im ngl im jus gonna ramble a bit so… (some nsfw some sfw)

OKKSOOOBASIKULLYYY

SFW:

has to have a hand somewhere on you at all times. whether it’s on your thigh or just touching the hem of your skirt. he needs to constantly know that you’re right there with him.

when you makeout, he likes to keep a hand gently wrapped around your throat. like i said before he just likes having his hands on you, so it’s not there to choke you. it’s just there for him to feel safer.

loves to just look at you — especially if you’re sitting on his lap. he doesn’t even do anything, he just sits and watches. admiring you. his thumb rubbing across your hips as he just holds you in place taking in your beauty.

loves doing cute lil things with you — even if its like tiny picnic dates or even face care in your bathroom. he enjoys spending time with you and its always the little things that matter.

doesn’t let ANYONE touch his hair. it like actually makes him sick. he barely even lets you (😭😭) really only lets you when you say something is wrong with it and he can’t fix it each time he tries to.

enjoys helping you pick outfits, or just fully picking them for you. if you’re really struggling to make an outfit i bet you farleigh could find something in your closet and you’d love it immediately.

cooks for you. i dunno, he just seems like the type to really love cooking for someone he loves. his love for cooking probably developed when he was a bit younger and had to make something for himself when no one else was around. and to his surprise he had fun doing it.

loves to just fall asleep in your arms. you’re his safe space and whenever he’s in a close distance from you he just instantly feels better. usually he has quite a hard time falling asleep but ever since he started dating you, that problem was no more.

most of the time you wake up in his arms, and when you try to move you can feel his grip on you get tighter. he lets out a soft whine in protest to you trying to leave him warmth. all while pulling you back against his chest.

NSFW:

i feel like farleigh would be vocal when he feels like it yk. like he isn’t always gonna be the loudest man in bed but he isnt always gonna be dead silent. sometimes he might feel a bit more vulnerable than usual and lets out the cutest little whines while you ride him. his hands instinctively resting on your hips while you skillfully grind on his sensitive cock. he isn’t really the type to beg but he might let out a few “please”’s when he really wants something from you.

def uses his size to his advantage. whether in the bed or not. if you’re disrespecting him in public, he will tower over you and just watch. watch if you would even continue just a little bit with the act you’re doing. if he sees your attitude simmer down, he does that dumb smirk and leans down to kiss your cheek. in bed it’s way more. he would use his large hands to keep you pinned down — or to pin your hands above your head as he worked his cock into your tight little cunt. whispering sweet little nothings in your ear and peppering kisses along your face as he thrusted in and out of you.

puts your pleasure before his 24/7. makes sure you’re pleased before he worries about himself. even if he’s the one to ask you to do stuff, he would immediately be the one on his knees ready to let you use him.

eats you like some chinese takeout!!! disagree if you want (i’m 100% correct.) like this man is so dedicated to please you that he gets so focused and it just feels so good. he gets realllyyyy messy when he gets really into it. he’s so obsessed with the way you taste and the little noises you make while he’s eating you out. he gets so into it that he doesn’t even realize the moans that slip from his lips as he starts to grind onto the bed.

he’s 6’5 so we know his fingers are huge… and he uses them a lot. when he slowly but surely slides them in and out of your cunt, he curls them just right and due to the size of them you swear you see stars.

huge fucking tease. likes to pretend he cant hear your begging and whispers things like ‘huh? speak up baby…’ and ‘i cant hear you — use your words’ just to get you to beg and plead more and more for him to make you feel good.

praise kink forrrrr sureeeee. he loves receiving it but he most definitely loves giving it. even if he doing the dirtiest things to you he just loves to see the way you react to his praise. ‘doing so good f’me sweetheart…’ and ‘you take me so well’ all while basically fucking destroying you as he thrusts his thick cock into you. your face is buried into the pillow and his hand is tangled in your hair.

୨୧ for my baby @ludicdoll

lmk if i should do more of these pls…

[marvelslut16]

The Flu

Prompt number: 22 "Who takes care of you?"

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: Age gap relationship. Dbf. Swearing. Boss and employee.

A/N: A few hours late for day 4, but I was a busy woman today. Aaron and Jack never go into the witness protection program, they catch Peter Lewis right away.

The job was just supposed to be temporary, one to help you get back on your feet after dropping out of school, and you got to help your long time infatuation Aaron Hotchner now that Jess was moving out of state. It was a win win in your eyes, and it got your dad off your back. But that was almost two years ago now, and there was no end in sight for your current arrangement as Jack’s live in nanny. 

The one flaw in your logic was how drop dead gorgeous your boss is. Not that that is new information, you’d been drooling over him since you were sixteen when you saw him shirtless at a backyard/pool party your dad threw. But now it’s so much worse, because he’s so sexy doing all of his mundane tasks. Making coffee at five in the morning with bedhead? Sexy. Making dinner in one of his tight white dress shirts when he gets home from a case early? Still sexy. Dressed down in casual clothes coaching Jack’s soccer team? The most sexy.

As you lament, yet again, to your best friend over text about how unfairly hot Aaron Hotchner is, the front door opens. As if he knew you were talking about him, he enters the house with a thud having dropped his go bag by the front door. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, where you are, and when he does you finally notice how miserable he looks. His dark hair is slicked to his forehead, his face pale- except for his cheeks which are bright red, and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh my god, Aaron! Are you okay?” your voice raising an octave, you rush over to him and guide him to one of the barstools in front of his large island.  

“I’m fine, the team overreacted and sent me home,” he almost sounds convincing, until he finishes the sentence with a loud sneeze. 

“Awww,” you rub your hand up and down his back comfortingly. “Did Jackers give you the flu?”

“No,” he argues, and tries to quietly sniffle. 

“That’s it, straight to bed young man,” your hands resting on your hips as you tell him the same thing you told Jack a week ago when he came home from school with the flu. “While you take a nap I’ll make you some homemade chicken noodle soup.”

“It’s fine (Y/N), you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of making my own lunch,” he looks like a petulant child, his hands balled in fists also resting on his hips. 

“When was the last time you let someone take care of you Aaron?” you ask, becoming annoyed that he keeps fighting you. “Six months ago when you were in the hospital, that’s when. And then you still fought it tooth and nail. Who takes care of you?”

“I can take care of myself,” he starts coughing as a result of lowering his voice in order to use his boss voice. A voice he only ever uses on you when you try to care for him too.

“You want to go back to work again soon right?” he nods. “So just listen to me. Take some Tylenol and go lay down. Please let me make you some soup.”

He finally relents and heads upstairs to bed, but not before you get him a large glass of water. Thankfully you were planning on making chicken for dinner, so you already have some thawing. You waste no time and start cooking the chicken in one pot, then you chop the vegetables. After the chicken has been shredded and the soup is simmering, making the whole house smell delicious, you sneak upstairs to check on your patient.

You’re happy to see that he’s laying in the middle of his bed bundled up in his sheets with little snores escaping him.Despite him being sick, he still looks far more at peace and relaxed in this moment then he has since you met him back when he was still a prosecutor. After a few minutes of taking him in, you head back to the kitchen and toast and butter bread to go with his soup. The soup is done ten minutes later, and you ladle a nice heaping bowl for him. 

You trek back up the stairs, walk into Aaron’s room and stand beside his bed. You’ve woken him up a bunch of times when he falls asleep watching movies with you and Jack or when he falls asleep at the island going over paperwork for work, but this feels different. You’re in his bedroom, you’re boss’ bedroom. Overcoming your nerves you reach forward and gently shake his shoulder, he wakes with a start whipping his hand to grasp your wrist in a bruising grip. 

“Aaron,” you startle, he doesn’t register that you aren’t a threat in his half asleep stupor. “It’s me, it’s (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he snaps out of it, face contorting into a frown when he sees his white knuckled grip around your wrist. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” you smile lightly, rubbing your wrist when he finally lets go. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

“It’s my fault,” he argues, sitting up and leaning against his mahogany headboard. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the case at work before I fell asleep, I must have dreamt about it.”

“It’s fine Aaron, I just wanted to let you know the soup is done, there’s a bowl cooling on the island for you,” you smile as you slowly back out of his room, suddenly feeling like you’re intruding. 

Aaron doesn’t say anything else, so you slip out of the room and head back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Aaron joins you a few minutes later, wrapped tightly in his blue robe Jack picked out for him for Christmas last year. Aaron lets out an involuntary moan after taking a spoonful of soup, and you clench your thighs together at the delicious sound.

“This is the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had,” Aaron says once he’s scarfed down half of his bowl. 

“You hate chicken noodle soup,” you giggle, remembering the cute way his nose crinkled in disgust when that was the only soup at some fancy restaurant the team and their families went to last year. 

“Not this one!” he shovels in another spoonful. 

You give Aaron another helping of the soup, glad that he’s eating and hydrating himself, before putting the rest into a container and into the fridge. You have just enough time to wash the pot and counters before heading to pick Jack up from school.

“I’m gonna head out and get Jackers in a few minutes,” you tell Aaron as he starts sneezing again. “Once you finish that, go lay back down and drink lots of water.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he murmurs thinking you won’t be able to hear him. But you do, and you glare at him for his childish antics. He finally relents, “okay.”

The drive to get Jack isn’t very long, but after the whole Peter Lewis fiasco, Aaron won’t let Jack walk home or ride the bus. And you don’t blame him. Your dad told you about Jack getting stalked during one of your weekly phone calls while you were away for school, you were rattled for the Hotchner’s. 

“(Y/N)!” Jack comes running at you when he sees you, you bend down and scoop him into your arms and carry him to the car. You’ll never get tired of how excited he gets to see you when you pick him up, it’s the same happy reaction every day. 

“How was school buddy? Get all the homework you missed last week when you were home sick?” you bombard him with questions as you unlock the car.

“It was great! We got to play soccer in gym today and I scored three times!” Jack wiggles in excitement before you set him back on the ground. 

“That's great buddy!” you smile at him as he slips into his seat. 

“Yes I got all of my make up work,” he pouts once you get into the driver's seat. “Lots of fractions, and you know how much I hate those.”

“I’ll tell ya what, you do one of your math worksheets and then we can make your dad a get well soon card,” over your time with the Hotchner’s you’ve learned that bargaining is how to incentivise the both of them. “He came home from work early with the flu.”

“Dad’s home?” Jack start’s to excitedly bounce in his seat, happy that he’ll get to spend more time with his favorite person.

“Yeah, but just remember that he’s not feeling his best so he won’t be able to do a lot,” a bittersweet smile crosses your face, it’s not fair that they don’t get to spend more time with one another. It’s not fair that Aaron has to sacrifice his personal life to make the world a better place for everyone else. 

When you walk in the door you're greeted with the sight of Aaron bundled up on the couch under three blankets, the news playing quietly on the TV. Jack gives his dad a big hug before scurrying off to the kitchen to grab a snack and start his homework. You walk up to the lump on the couch that was once Aaron and reach your forearm forward to feel his forehead, and sure enough he’s much warmer than he should be. 

“I don’t feel good,” Aaron whines, making the same pouty face Jack made all last week. “Everything aches.”

“I know sweetheart,” you let the term of endearment slip without thinking, too focused on trying to comfort Aaron. “You have a fever, you need to drink lots of water and get out from under those blankets.”

“No,” he huffs, clutching onto his blankets like he needs them to live. “I don’t have a fever, it’s just cold in here.”

“Aaron it's seventy two degrees in here, it’s not cold. You need to take the blankets off, it’ll only make it worse,” he shakes his head sinking further into the couch. “Fine, if I go grab the thermometer and it says you have a fever, I’m taking both of your blankets into the kitchen with me while I help Jack with his homework.”

You don’t give him time to respond before you head to the upstairs bathroom where you had checked Jack for a fever this morning before school. When you get back to him, Aaron has sunk further down into the couch and cocoon of blankets trying to hide from the thermometer in your hand. You eventually get it in his mouth and sure enough he has a one hundred one degree fever.

“Hand over those blankets,” you reach your hand out for them, and he reluctantly gives them to you. “Now drink some water and watch the news. And no more blankets!”

You help Jack with two math worksheets before he remembers your deal, and demands you make a card. He decorates the printer paper in every color marker and tops it off with those marker stamps you got him for his birthday. Jack even makes you sign your name on the card. 

“Is this for me?” Aaron coughs and sits up when Jack thrusts the card in his face. “Aww thanks buddy, I love it!” Jack sits on the couch with his dad for a few minutes, but after seeing the news is on he gets up and leaves. 

“You feeling up for dinner?” you ask Aaron, when Jack heads back to finish some more homework. “It’s too late for me to make something, is there any take out you want?”

“Happy Meal!” Jack yells from the kitchen

“You heard the little man, we’re having McDonalds tonight,” Aaron smiles at you as you grab your keys and call Jack to come ride with you.

The rest of the night is stress free, Jack actually listens to you when you tell him it’s time to shower and get ready for bed, all because his dad is sick and doesn’t want to make it worse. Well it’s stress free where Jack is concerned, you still have to deal with the full grown baby you call your boss. 

“Time for bed Aaron,” you tell him after you’ve dried Jack’s hair and read him to sleep. “I know you don’t want to but you need to get your rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he says, even though he grabs your hand when you hold it out to him, you pull him out of his chair and lead him up the stairs and to his room 

“Now take two more Tylenol and go to sleep,” he reluctantly takes the pills out of your hand and throws them back dry.

“There, are you happy?”

“I’m ecstatic,” you deadpan, moving to fluff his pillows for him.

“Thank you,” Aaron catches your gaze when he speaks, making sure to hold it.

“It's my job,” you dismiss his praise, not wanting to let yourself think about it too much and read too deep into it. 

“No it's not, you always go above and beyond for us, for me,” Aaron gently catches the wrist he squeezed earlier making a mental image of the faint bruise marring your skin, and vowing to never let the world hurt you. 

“Aaron,” your breath catches at the delicate ghosting of his fingertips on the inside of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, leaning forward and now it’s his lips ghosting over your wrist. You swear your heart stops when he pushes down harder, leaving a trail of kisses around your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, the last thing you want is for him to stop, but you also need to make sure he’s in his right mind when doing this. 

“Kissing you,” the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly, like they’re said all of the time. His mouth travels up your arm and he’s kissing the sensitive crook of your elbow. 

Aaron pulls you down next to him in bed, quickly scooping you up and cradling you in his arms. You're at a loss for words, your dream is coming true. Aaron Hotchner actually wants you as much as you want him, and it isn’t a dream. When you’re lost in thought his lips descend on yours, and soon you get lost in him instead. There’s no rush to your kiss, just a slow languid strokes of his tongue twining with yours. It’s the perfect first kiss, there’s a heat to it, but no sense of urgency to get it over with. 

“(Y/N), you have my heart,” Aaron admits breathlessly, arms wrapping around you tighter. “I know it’s wrong for many reasons, but you made my heart beat again. You love Jack and you’re wonderful with him. He loves you. I love you. You take care of me even though you don’t have to, you are the most amazing person. You’re perfect for Jack and me.”

“You have my heart too, I love you too,” you grip his chin and pull him in for another kiss. “You and Jack are everything to me, I finally feel like I belong somewhere, here with the two of you. I never want to lose this, lose you.”

“You won’t,” he kisses you one more time before pulling away completely. “But you should probably go to your own room now, wouldn’t want you to get sick from sleeping with me tonight.”

“I was home with Jack all last week, I’m fine. Plus it’s probably better I stay in here and keep an eye on you,” he smirks, kissing you one last time before resting his head on your chest.  

The rest of the week is wonderful, Aaron still argues with you when you try to take care of him, but when Jack’s at school you two let the facade down. You cuddle with him and kiss him whenever you walk past him, making out on the couch like you’re two horny teenagers. Before you know it, it’s Sunday and Aaron is feeling better so he has to go into work in the morning. As the two of you say goodnight to Jack you start sneezing and the sniffling you’ve had all day rears its ugly head. 

“I told you not to sleep with me,” Aaron teases you after you close Jack's door, pulling you with him and back into his room.

“I’m fine,” your arguing falls short as you start sneezing again.

“I think the team can do without me for another case,” Aaron smiles as you slip into bed with him. “I need to be here to take care of you now.” Who would have thought the flu would be what finally got you two together?

[the-whispers-of-death]

i NEED fallen angel ghost realizing his feelings for the man who let him on his house (reader)

Fallen God!Ghost realizing his feelings for you would be such a slow-burn. He doesn't understand you, doesn't understand how you're not cowering. How despite all of his snarling and growling, you're still taking care of him.

He finds himself slowly getting domesticated by you, his snarling and growling slowly deceasing until he just simply glares at you whenever you ask him to do chores. At that point, he does the chores silently, his rage simmered but still there. He knows now that you're not to mess with, even with your kindness seeming like a weakness.

And eventually, he does the chores without even being prompted. He finds himself gently shushing your protests when you try and help him wash the dishes after dinner, stating that you cooked the dinner so now he should clean up. If he's the taller one, he reaches up and helps you get whatever you want from high shelves, doing it so wordlessly.

As he grows used to you, he feels like the air has gotten lighter. Like the mortal realm is no longer clouded by his potent rage. He finds beauty in the mortal realm, in you. His eyes take in the crinkle around your eyes when you smile, how you move in such a way that makes his stomach feel like there's butterflies in it. He finds himself in awe of you, craving to be near you always.

Ghost watches you go to your bedroom for the night, wishing his feet would follow yours into the bedroom. He spends so many nights walking to your bedroom once you've closed the door, standing outside it as if contemplating going inside only for him to turn and go to the spare bedroom that has become his.

He tosses and turns in his bed, trying to dream that you're beside him. The bed feels cold without you, and he can't help but laugh at the thought.

He's a god and you're a mortal, you should be nothing but a speck of dirt to him. But somewhere along the way, he's cherished waking up in the mornings to help you make breakfast for the two of you. He's gotten a routine with you, one that has taken months to establish.

Fallen God!Ghost is so in love with you that he has forgotten his banishment almost entirely and he has forgotten his rage and need to get back to the paradise realm.

You've become his paradise realm.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

i read ur free use kink drabble (ah maaazing) and saw u want reqs SOOOO

i neeed need need a free use oneshotnof miguel.

you'll just be sitting in your apartment and he'll come over dick out knowing you'll obey him RAAAAH or when your cooking dinner and he'll slowly tease ur sensitive bud until you have to stop stirring your pot so he can take you right on the counter

Cooking was never exactly you’re speciality.

It wasn’t like you were specifically bad, a lot of your personal confidence coming from the inedible atrocities previewed on Worst Cooks in America, but it wasn’t like you had the culinary flair to perfectly season and cook a steak every other night.

Therefore, like many others, you could be described as a big fan of pasta, the whispers of a dish swimming around in the boiling pot of salted water as of right now.

At least you knew how to do that.

And while pasta was an easier course to make, the mindless stirring and testing of the texture required some form of strayed concentration.

All the reason why you completely neglected to notice the giant figure looming behind you.

Calloused hands snakes around you waist, a soft tickle of brown curls over your ear as Miguel bent down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

The position was sweet, something people could almost describe as domestic.

But then the hard outline of his cock pressing into your back had you straightening.

"Mig-"

The rest of his name fizzled into a broken gasp as his fingers slid past the hem of your shorts, gliding through your slit once before traveling up to stroke your clit.

"Yeah, baby? What's wrong?"

Feigned-confusion laced in voice, the undertone of that cocky teasing easily bleeding through.

“Right now?” You bit your lip, a feeble attempt to bury the moan threatening to fall past your lips. Regardless, the man behind you seemed to notice, the low chuckle that followed sending another shiver up your spine.

“Yes, pretty, right now.” The gentleness of the kiss he placed on your head greatly contrasted with the ardent speed at which he slid your bottoms down your hips, thumb still trained above your thighs. “You can take it.”

He aligned himself over you, watching your legs start to tremble with each torturous rotation, boiling water bubbling dangerously close to the rim of your pot.

With a click, the heat was reduced to a low simmer, his free hand lacing through yours as he pushed into you with a grunt.

"Fuck," he cursed, fingers squeezing yours as he started to fuck you over the counter. "That's it, sweetheart."

Warmth crept up your abdomen at his voice, raw, fervent need dripping through his tone.

“My pretty, little whore,” Miguel forced another whine from you. “Always so wet for me, so desperate to be fucked stupid.”

Each thrust had you closer and closer to the edge, the cord of ecstasy growing thinner until it threatened to snap. One finally push had you falling over the edge, voice suddenly lost as you felt him meet his own climax, stopping for a moment to soak in the pleasure before slowly rotating his hips into yours in hopes of gently taking you down from your own high.

That was definitely one of the oddest things about him; the contradiction of his sweet touches and words against his uncontrolled lust for you.

Just like the way he’d plant a tender kiss on top of your head, muttering something about how pretty you looked coming for him, before giving your ass a tender smack and leaning down to your shoulder once more.

"We're getting take-out.”