#wooden spice box

[buy-desi]

[persicipen]

ꕤ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . jiaoqiu . gn reader — 0.5k ノ flirting . bantering . teasing ノ either early in the relationship or dating phase ノ lighthearted fluff with little annoyances :3

He’s so mean when flirting with you. You’re sure of it — that it must be flirting. Because what else for would he cling to your shadow, following step after step like a lost puppy, not an adult foxian with great responsibilities?

Pulling by your hair a mere inch whilst he could’ve simply tapped your shoulder or call your name. Fanning you on a hot day, but suddenly the air gets even hotter as he lets the red feathers blaze little sparks of fire into your face. He giggles at your complaints and curses thrown at him as you wipe the sweat off your forehead. Him giving you a special dish, your favourite, but as soon as the familiar taste melts on your tongue, you’re struck with a pang of spiciness beyond what you could endure.

But these mischievous games are far from how it would look if he were but an annoying little boy picking on you at the playground. Never crossing that invisible boundary where you would get frustrated beyond repair with saccharine compliments and kisses blown in the air, and, sometimes, a glass of milk to soothe the burn on your palate. You don’t think about cutting off that complicated relationship. In that, you must agree, however hesitantly, he’s respectful.

To a degree. You just think he needs a gentle reminder every now and then. A firm talk, with careful words.

So, when you find him slacking off, alone, in the shadows of a bamboo grove by the alchemical quarters, you waste no time dragging him by the sleeve to a more private place. A storage room, which isn’t empty of wooden boxes, but is certainly unused by other people who do not want to be forced to clean the space once found near the doors. The foxian seems completely unbothered by the change of location, only smirking at you and wondering if you’re that eager to dally with someone who’s supposedly making your blood boil.

You can always convince him with a real kiss, the one that later will sizzle on your lips because he had that damned chili sauce for lunch earlier that day.

“You’re insufferable…” You sigh after a defeated whine of feeling the glints of spice dancing on the tip of your tongue.

“Hah, but you wouldn’t want it if I was any different, or am I wrong?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, unable to answer. That doesn’t mean you dislike how he behaves, though, as exasperating as it might be. But that’s simply how he is expressing what he can’t do openly. Yet. You really hope it’s only ‘yet’ and not his definite way of displaying affection.

Another kiss forced upon his lips, so that the brat in him wouldn’t laugh at your flustered expression. He is only slightly taken aback by this gesture.

“Be honest with me…” You run your hands down his back and the pleasant purr rising in his throat reassures you to continue. “Will this teasing ever end?”

“Hmm… I’m afraid not.” He pouts, his ears flopping gently in an act. “Not when the outcome is getting to hold you like that in secret because you’re too embarrassed to admit that me pulling on your nerves is working.”

Your heart skips a beat and it takes all your willpower to avoid smiling like an idiot in love. In fact, you pretend to be angry. Angry at the heat rising to your cheeks. “Shameless…”

[lovelytsunoda]

sleigh ride // lance stroll

summary: christmas has never been his holiday. but she adores it, and he wants to make this christmas one that she won't forget.

pairing: lance stroll x fiancee!reader

warnings: marriage proposals, fluffy lance, it's super duper cheesy, lance quotes emily henry's "beach read", where can i get a lance

the snow fell down on niagara falls in scattered flurries, the waterfalls the town used as their namesake almost frozen solid in motion as they spilled into lake ontario. the sun was setting, with niagara-on-the-lake doused in an orange-pink glow as the couple ran out of the b'n'b, giggling hand in hand.

"lance, where are we going?" she giggled, mitten-clad hand clutched in her boyfriend's as he pulled her along the snowy sidewalk.

"just trust me, but you'll need to close your eyes." lance stroll insisted, turning to face her, pressing his warm lips to her rapidly cooling forehead. "we're almost there."

"if you say so." she chortled, closing her eyes and following lance as he guided her, gentle flakes falling against her knitted hat.

the breeze was cold, cutting through the many layers that they both wore as lance urged her forwards. her mind was swimming with all the possibilities lance could have come up with, but she couldn't settle on any.

christmas had never been his thing. he was raised jewish, and she had celebrated hannukah with his family before, so why would he celebrate christmas anyways? the answer was simple: because she enjoyed it. he could convince himself to embrace a little more of the christmas spirit than normal when she was around, when she insisted on putting that stunning tree in their living room, or buying elf ears for their dog.

"okay, you can open your eyes now."

she opened her eyes, instantly covering her mouth to stop the delighted scream from coming out and scaring the horses. sitting in front of her were two stunning black mares, towing a snow-white sleigh, decorated with white glitter and snowflakes, a plush throw blanket thrown over the bench in the back.

"lance, this is incredible!"

lance beamed, glowing under the streetlamps as he pulled open the metal gate door. "milady." he giggled, reaching for her gloved hand to help her into the sleigh.

she curled into him on the bench, lance fluffing the blanket out behind and over their bodies before the well-dressed man sat in the driver's seat of the sleigh flashed them a smile, and the horses began their slow trot down the cobblestones.

she slipped her gloves off, taking lance's cold hand in hers as she played with his fingers, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. her breath crystallized in the air, snowflakes falling into the sleigh and promptly melting on the winter mats on the ground.

lance himself was fidgety, the tiffany and co. box burning a hole in the pocket of his parka. he was so anxious about asking that he'd almost done it that morning, over coffee and croissants at breakfast.

but she deserved more than that. she deserved something meaningful, something special (not that there was anything wrong with a little bit of privacy and keeping it lowkey, he just wanted to have a great proposal story to pass down to their kids. after y/n told him that her father proposed to her mother by saying 'we need to talk', he vowed that his proposal would be special).

she turned her head, pressing a frosty kiss to his warm skin. "i love you, lance."

he smiled, burying his nose in the top of her knitted hat. " i love you more, pretty girl. i've got another surprise for you, if you're up for it."

she looked up at him, hair falling in front of her face, skin pink from the cold as she smiled back at him. "what kind of surprise?"

"you'll see. it's just around this corner, love."

the sleigh pulled up to a small gazebo, cords of string lights wrapped around the weathered wooden beams to light up the small space, now that the sun was behind the clouds, the last dregs of daylight hovering in the space between night and day.

lance got to his feet, opening the sleigh gate before the driver could even get down from his perch. with her long fleece scarf hanging down to her knees, she daintily descended from the sleigh, hand in hand with her boyfriend as he led her towards the gazebo.

the snow beneath their feet was dusted with deep purple rose petals, some small tea light candles on the steps. as they got closer to the gazebo, she could see the small lightbox letters, lit up in a warm, soft yellow as they got closer, spelling out two words.

marry me.

"oh, lance." she breathed, at a loss for words as she anxiously wringed her hands.

she could hear the wooden boards creaking behind her as lance sunk down to one knee, reaching into his pocket for the turquoise box. he rested the box on his knee, frozen hands shaking as he pulled it open.

"i really should have thought this through a little better. i'm cold as shit." he giggled nervously. "but i know christmas means a lot to you, and i wanted to make this as special as i could."

she gasped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as she saw the ring: a single princess-cut diamond resting on a silver band, two small pink gemstones holding the center gem in place.

"y/n, i'm head over heels for you, and i always have been. every morning i wake up next to you, and i think, this could all go away. the racing, the money, the fame, all of it. but as long as i had you by my side, i wouldn't care. as long as i had you, i'd be happy. because you make me so happy, y/n. you remind me of all the good in the world, all the reasons to keep going. in the words of emily henry, yes, i've read your romance books, 'when i watch you sleep, i feel overwhelmed that you exist'. man, she got that right. i feel overwhelmed with love, and with care. and some days, i wonder why you chose me when you could have had any man you wanted. y/n y/'l/n. pretty girl. love of my life." lance sniffled, wiping at the tear that was threatening to fall into his stubble. "will you marry me?"

"yes!" she shouted, her voice echoing across the clearing as she started to giggle. "yes, of course i'll marry you." her eyes started to sting, tears pricking the corners of her vision, so overcome with love for man on his knees in front of her.

she sunk to her knees as well, the frost on the gazebo cold against the knees on her jeans. she clasped lance's hands in her own, pulling him in for a gentle kiss before he slipped the ring onto her finger, foreheads resting against each other.

"thank you so much for saying yes. i can't think of a day in the foreseeable future that i don't want to spend with you by my side."

"oh, lance." she laughed through her tears of joy. "don't make me cry."

"i'm not trying to, my love." he laughed, tears pricking at his eyes. "god, i just love you so much."

"i love you more." she laughed, tucking her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before glancing down at the sterling silver on her finger.

lance kissed her hairline, holding her close and breathing in her scent.

if this was every day for the rest of his life, then he was wondering why he'd waited so long to ask.

TAGS:

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @lorarri @httpiastri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @oconso @thatsdemko @silversainz

[dancingwithfoxes]

10 little subtle ways and things you could be doing that are witchy!

(esp if you're still in the broom closet) ❤️🦊

1. virtual and online altars

pinterest boards dedicated to your gods/goddesses; quotes and aesthetics.

tumblr dedication blogs.

social media page with your witchy alias.

discord server, a private place to organise channels and create categories for what you want, i.e., spellwork, candle magick, crystal associations, etc.

music playlists, for both manifesting and connecting with your deities, they love coming through music.

2. journal/book altars

similar to the idea of a book of shadows, this will be personal writings and thoughts for specific deities.

you can customise it and decorate it much like a physical altar! i.e., stickers, washi tapes, markers, sparkles.

custom spreads for whomever you work with, you can put prayers you've written for them, words you want to convey, and express.

3. the wooden box altar, also known as a travelling altar

a place to put all your trinkets and necessities.

if you're unable to have a physical space, having one that's portable will help you take your altar wherever you go.

you can carve/paint the box to be more personal for you, or to be ultra discreet about it you can just customise the inner part so it doesn't stick out to people you don't want knowing yet.

4. origami shapes

for manifesting, write out what you would like and fold it into a star to carry out the manifestation.

use the idea of symbolism to embed your intentions, for luck, a four leaf clover. for allowing new opportunities to find you and let go, a butterfly, to succeed in something you could make a bird; "soaring to new heights."

you could also use this time to connect with your deities, just being with them in the moment.

5. financial abundance

if you can't blow cinnamon on the first day of the new month, put a dash of it in your morning coffee or tea first thing.

use of coins in the soil of your plants welcomes in prosperity.

likewise with coins, frogs are symbolic of wealth.

a bay leaf where you keep your wallet/purse, the exchange of the money you give out you will receive back with a little extra.

6. kitchen magick/green witchery

add spices/herbs to help achieve something you want i.e.,

pancakes with vanilla and honey to bring in loving and warm energy.

adding pepper/salt/basil/rosemary to encourage protection.

for clarity and insight, chamomile tea.

to have peaceful and calm resolve, lemonade with fresh mint leaves.

7. clothing and jewellery

wearing items of clothing or jewellery in honour of your deities, i.e.

rings, bracelets, and necklaces that symbolise something of them for you.

shirts with quotes you feel resemble them; colour associations work plenty.

if you crochet or make your own items of clothing, knot magick or sewing in a symbol that means something for you can help you feel confident when wearing it.

8. self-care can be devotional

doing things that make you happy whilst doing it in honour of your deities allows them to be present in your simple joys.

writing, poetry, reading; feeling called to read something because it holds a message for you.

indulging a show or something you watched in your childhood years, deities take pleasure in watching something that means alot to you and will be grateful to share that moment.

treats and specific cravings, i.e., little upg, but loki loves sweet pastries.

taking a walk about in nature gives your deities more room to show you the beauty of the world. take them to your favourite bench, to your favourite coffee shop.

knot magick, if you crochet, make something in honour of your gods/goddesses. they will ensure it brings you comfort when you hold it.

painting your nails, you can charge your nail polish beneath the moon or mix in a little moon water to be energised and intuitively connected.

9. cleansing and clearing of old energy

water

will help the bad flow out and let the good flow in.

showers/baths are good for self-cleansing.

holding a glass of water before drinking it and wish your intentions.

crying, allowing yourself to feel what it is you're trying to process in order for it to be released. can't release something you haven't finished going through yet.

moon water, I recommend this during a new moon as that's more symbolic to starting anew, planting seeds and encouragement toward growth.

sun water, can help with energising you and bringing in positive energy, also a confidence boost.

earth

holding onto a crystal for a few moments, just breathing in and out.

crystals can be used for cleansing, smoky quartz, clear quartz. there is a crystal for all your needs.

plants! plants are great for protection and for taking in bad energy. they will listen to what you have to say, and will love you as much as you love them.

food, especially grown from the earth can help you feel refreshed and buzzing with energy.

fire

burning, writing out your hardships, struggles, anger and burning them (safely please).

lighting a candle while you work on something, very therapeutic, and you can visualise the bad energy being burnt out and released.

incense, the smoke is a natural cleanser and will do wonders. you aren't restricted to using sage to cleanse; others you could use are myrrh, sandalwood, lavender, or cedar. it's completely up to what your preferences are.

air

breathing in and out during meditation, as you take in some air and release it, upon release visualise what you're letting go of.

bells, the frequency of dinging bells helps to disperse bad energy.

sound cleansing through soft music, and intentional frequencies. you'll find alot of these up on youtube.

10. divination methods (aside from tarot/pendulums that i know of)

clouds, observing what you see and the shapes you recognise, what you need to know will be reflected in nature.

ceromancy, candle wax, burning a candle after asking for some clarity or an answer and having the wax form a shape for you to interpret.

numerology, angel numbers, and the significance of the numbers.

automatic writing, done in your personal journal, it's unconscious writing that can help channel messages you may need.

bibliomancy, randomly selecting a passage or words from a book.

capnomancy, the use of smoke from candles or incense, and reading the shapes and forms casted by the smoke

conchomancy, divination through seashells, shapes, and the type of shell.

casting a set of charms on a cloth and divinating the meaning of where they landed.

[the-faceless-bride]

The woods, a witch, and a wolf pack. Punchline?

Summary: (paranormal Au and takes place 1874) Kyle was out later than normal. Away from his pack wasn't a good idea he knew he shouldn't have gone out late; but Johnny had set his heart on a pie tonight, and he wanted Johnny to get his wish. Staying out looking for berries revealed itself to be an awful idea as a group of hunters we in the woods. And he... wasn't fast enough. Good thing he found a house.

Warnings: Not many. blood, inaccurate monster lore, Gaz being adorable but untrusting, 141 members being worried and upset.

This is pretty short compared to what I would normally write, but I'm trying to get in the groove. I've been writing all of my fics on my phone, I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing.

Kyle cursed himself for being careless, not telling the others of his pack where he was going before sneaking off; he wanted to surprise Johnny, but had he known there were a group of hunters playing Van Helsing nearby he would've been more careful.

Now he was trying to limp away and hide with an arrow sticking from his side, it was much more painful than anything he'd felt before; and he had been roughed up bad before, but not like this. This was agony; a seething, burning pain. It traveled from his side through his ribs to his chest, from his stomach to his weakening knees.

Fuck. He didn't want to die here. In the woods, alone and in agony. That's when he smelled it. A welcoming smell, one that made him feel safe.

A house. A house that he'd never seen before, behind a hidden Rocky arch that was covered by a waterfall of vines and leaves. When did this get here? He always knew this hidden archway, but last he and his pack checked, it led to a dead end. Didn't it? Fuck. He can't remember, not when all he can hear is the pounding of his heart trying to escape his ribcage.

The door slightly ajar, he stumbled clumsily through the old wooden door; a cozy interior. A war fire, candles light all on the walls and interesting clocks, trinkets, and spices hung from the walls. The house was warm, very warm compared to the cold, sharp air outside; a soft velvet couch, a dark green covered in a flower pattern.

Kyle tossed himself down on it with a sigh and a groan. He wanted to pull the enflamed arrow from his side but didn't dare; not wanting to bleed out. 'Merow' Kyle jumped, a skinny black cat with the largest, brighest yellow eyes he'd ever seen sat on the arm of the sofa saring at him.

Kyle gave it an awkward wave, "hello," he said, just above a whisper. "Well, isn't this delightful. A pup bleeding all over my nice sofa." a voice jokes, Kyle whips his head to the voice with a growl, he didn't know who this was but he wasn't going to give them the idea he wouldn't harm them if they tried anything.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," Kyle stops his growls but still sits stiff ready for anything, "now before we start, would you like a warm drink? Coffee, tea, whiskey?" - Kyle shakes his head, "I made pancakes earlier? Fancy one? Best you'll ever taste," - he again shakes his head. "Well then, let me take a look."

Kyle slowly and hesitantly leans to you, letting you see his wound. He was confused. Most people who knew who or what he was normally would shoo him away or try to kill him.

"Don't worry, this should be a quick and easy fix."- you move to a corner, wall filled top to bottom with shelves pulling a trinket box out before taking a small flower.

"hear, eat this." - Kyle look from the flower to you then back - "I know, strange. But it will help; Wolvesbain is a pretty flower. It's probably what led you to me. The sent is pretty irresistible to pups like you," - Kyle rolled his eyes at being called a pup, but you were right; that sweet smell that lead him to this house was coming from the pretty little flower clipping that you held between your thumb and forefinger.- "wolvesbain is a helpful little flower, it can be rather helpful to you, when not mixed with poison... In fact, looking to plant this flower was the whole reason for coming here,"

Kyle hesitantly ate the flower. It wasn't as earthy and awful as he expected, though it made his mouth water, not in the good way. More of the he shoved a handful of pepper mint down his throat way.

"I'm terribly sorry for the hunters," -Kyle raise a brow at you-

"The hunters are particularly my fault. You see, when I came looking for these flowers, my reputation of a witch followed me, and they trailed behind. Wolvesbane normally only grows near the paranormal creature themselves, much like Monotropa uniflora or black roses. I needed them for my garden. However, I tried to say clear of you and your pack. Usually, the lesser the flower, the further away the pack is. However, you seemed to be nearby," - This was true, Kyle and his pack were nearby. Not very close, but close enough that he was able to run here in his time of need, not wanting to bring the hunters to his lovers - "so either you and your pack just got here, are hidden or you're a long way from home,"

Kyle sat, thinking of what this meant. You'd unintentionally brought danger to him and the ones he loved. What does this mean? Were you going to stay in these woods? If you left, would the hunters go too? Where did this house come from? You say you just got here, yet you have a garden filled with magic plants and a house that wasn't exactly small. It wasn't a small cozy cottage like his packs. It wasn't a tent you'd just set up. It looked as if it had always been here.

"Well, it should be about that time," you say as you look as an old pocket watch from your dress pocket, " I'm happy you ate that flower, I'd hate for this to have been painful for you," - Kyle tilts his head, confused - "that arrow is a hunters arrow, it's been crafted specifically to hurt you. A normal needle and thread wouldn't be able to close that wound. And this type of threat can be... painful to the paranormal creatures of the night. But with that Wolvesbane, you won't feel a thing!" You say as you stick his side with a needle.

He felt nothing.

"There. You should be good now, I'm no doctor, but I'd say I did a rather good job." You smile as you begin to clean up, putting the needle and tread away before storing the arrow away with the rest of your gunter weapons you've collected over the years. "Thank you." You jump, the first words he's said since he's been here. "Well, thank you as well," - "for what?" - "not ripping me to shreds as I walked through the door," you tease.

"Where's the mutt?"

"I'm not sure,we lost track of him"

"He probably bled out somewhere,"

"Well find him, he'd make a nice furr rug! Haha!"

They were still looking for him. While due to the flower he ate, he may not feel the pain, but that doesn't mean his body isn't affected by it. He wouldn't be able to outrun them, not a chance.

"You can stay here. You won't be able to run if they see you. Tomorrow, I'll travel halfway with you, I'll throw off your trail. Then you'll be gone before those hunters realize your long gone." As you say this, the house seems to dim. The candles along the walls begin to dim their glow.

"Come now." You say, nodding your head up the stairs. He follows right behind you, Kyle can't thank you enough. Now, the only thing he'll have to worry about is the earful he'll get from John and some whining from Johnny. He's never been so happy to hear those than right now.

"I live alone and don't get much company, so if you don't mind, you can sleep with me. I'd prefer you have something soft to rest on, especially with that bad side."

"I have no problem," he smiles at you. You certainly are strange. You climb onto your bed after taking off your over dress and shape wear sighing as you get warm under the covers. Kyle shortly following after.

He can't sleep. He's worried sick. What if his boys came out looking for him and got hurt? He hated making them worry, and he's sure they were worried sick. He felt guilty. He's pulled from his thoughts as he felt a soft touch, "they'll be ok." A soft and low whine crawls from his chest, he knows. But that fact doesn't settle his mind.

When morning comes, Kyle finds himself wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair arms and legs tangled. You smell nice. "Good morning, Pup," -you say with a sigh as you struggle to get up sleepily putting on your dress,- "morning,"

"Fancy breakfast? Or should we hurry on our way? I'm sure your pack is worried sick," - "As much as I'd love some pancakes, I think I've caused enough trouble," - "next time then?" - Kylr smiled, "next time."

Leaving the house and back into the woods was nerve-wracking for Kyle, constantly peaking over his shoulder, worried he'd find a man with a crossbow pointed at him. But you didn't seem worried at all. You seemed to know exactly where you were going; like you'd lived in this wood your whole life.

Just as you approach the babbling brook, you stop; "This is where my path ends, Kyle." You smile up at him, "it's time for you to go." - "Well, would you maybe like to stay? It's almost time for lunch, won't you stay?"- You smile, bit before you can answer, You both hear voices that have Kyle's head whipping around to see them.

"I FOUND HIM!"

Kyle smiles excitedly, "JOHNNY!" Kyle breaks into a sprint, colliding into the smaller yet muscular Scott, a pair of footsets coming quickly behind. "What the hell were you thinking?!" - "it's good to see you too, John."

"Where have you been?"

"Why didn't you say you were leaving?"

"What happened to your side?! Your shirt is drenched in blood!"

John, Simon, and Johnny all firing questions one after the other, "it's alright, I got help." - "help? From who?" - "Well, she -" while Kyle turned around to point you out, you were gone. Where did you go? "Well, whoever she was, I'm glad she helped you." - "yeah, I'll have to introduce you..." he says, his voice trailing off as he wonders where you went, and what exactly was your name? He'd forgotten to ask... infact, you had said his name just now... when had he told you his name?...

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

just me and you [s.h.]

an: hiii just a little blurb based off what i think about when i listen to grapejuice by harry styles (very important to my lore) hope you enjoy!!

warnings: just kissing and fluff

wc: 1.8k

masterlist here!!!

You're perched on a bar stool in his kitchen, elbows pressed into the cool granite countertop and your feet dangle a foot from the ground, legs swinging lightly while you watch as he stirs a sauce that smells of garlic and spice, hip cocked to the side while he nods in time with the record you’ve put on. 

To your right you smile at the vase of flowers Steve had brought home for you, a bouquet of purples and blues that bring to mind days in bed with the windows open, curtains flowing and crisp fresh air swirling around you while you come in and out of sleep. 

Glasses of candy red wine, the best Italian according to Steve, sit in front of you, a light pink lip print from this morning's makeup that stains the side. Banfi Rosa Regale Brachetto, a mouthful for sure but Steve says the full name every time, butchering an Italian accent as he does. 

When he turns to you—wooden spoon in one hand and half full glass in the other, you take in his pink cheeks and wine marked lips. He looks like a Sunday afternoon, hair tousled from running his hands through the thick honey strands over and over, striped apron looped over his neck and tied in a bow around his waist. Bare Feet on the hardwood floors and a navy blue and white striped button down that’s half undone, light wash jeans snug on his hips and cuffed at his ankles. 

Sitting there with your hands cradling your cheeks, chin in your palm, you watch him float around the kitchen with an ease that lulls you into a sense of calmness you can only truly experience around him. The sun beams in through the kitchen window, curtains pulled back enough that it warms your skin and puts a gentle glow on his, tan and soft. 

He’s chopping vegetables in front of you now, head turning back like clockwork to make sure the sauce doesn’t burn but he always makes time to smile gently at you while you watch him work. You’re faintly aware of the song that’s drifting in from the living room but you’d much rather focus on the way it sounds coming from him, a gentle hum that vibrates from his chest and mixes with the wine to make you warm and fuzzy. 

You admire his forearms flexing just so with the knife in his hand, grip tight and eyes focused so it doesn’t slip from his grasp. He pops a piece of carrot into his mouth, the crunch breaking you from the spell he had you under. He meets your eyes with a wink, fingers moving closer to your mouth with a look of expectation in his eyes. 

“Open up, sweetness.” You do, mouth falling open and his thumb grazing your tongue when he slides the bite of carrot between your lips. You bite down, his hand patting your cheek in a silent praise before he goes back to cooking and you go back to admiring. 

Even though you’re not really sure what he’s doing and couldn’t prepare more than a box of mac and cheese to save your life, you never grow tired of watching him like this. It’s one of your favorite things, whether it be with a full house of friends and family or just the two of you like it is now. 

When the song changes a gasp pops from his lips and he’s rushing to turn down the stove before he glides over and sweeps you from your chair. One second you’re sitting there and the next you're in his arms while he pulls a flower from the vase behind you and snaps the bottom half off. He slips the stem behind your ear, grinning wide at the blush on your cheeks before tapping your nose with the tip of his finger and taking your hand in his. 

“Dance with me, yeah?” And you’d never say no to him, you don’t think you’re capable. One hand in yours and the other softly on your hip, he guided your head to rest against his chest, the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat felt on your cheek. You sway back and forth, his lips pressed against your forehead in a long, sweet kiss that has you melting into him. 

The petals of the blue poppy tickle at your skin but you don’t move to touch it. The two of you stand there gently moving past the end of the song and well into the next. Only when he remembers what he’d been doing before your dance does he pull away, going to stir the sauce and coming back to you just as fast. 

His hands go to your hips, pushing into you until your back digs into the counter. And then he’s lifting you up, sitting you on top and pushing everything to the side. He’s a few inches below you now, lip pulled between his teeth as he studies your face. Both of you have had a few glasses of wine, just affected enough that you’re extra smiley and can’t stop giggling. 

Pulling the flower from your hair you move to slip it behind his ear, his smile shy as he laces his fingers with yours and places quick pecks against the column of your throat. Undoing your hands so you can run your fingers through his hair, you smile at the smell of your shampoo, notes of coconut and citrus left on your fingertips. His hands fist at the sweater you’re wearing when you tug on his hair just hard enough to get his attention. 

When he brings his head from your chest you pull him up to you, pressing your lips to his in a slow kiss that leaves you breathless. Hints of raspberry and chocolate from the wine dance along your tongue when you swipe it across his bottom lip and you feel him smile against your mouth. He pulls back just to go in for another quick kiss, and then another, smirking at the way your mouth moves each time as if to chase his. 

“Tastes so sweet.”

“I think it’s the wine, Steve.” 

“No, baby, it's all you.” You shake your head at him, shoving him back just slightly so you can slip off the counter, moving back to your stool and rolling your eyes at the adorable pout on his cherry red lips that are now a little swollen from your kiss. 

“Get back to it, chef. I’m starved!” He salutes you, running his hands through his hair and going back to tending to the food while you admire the way the denim curves over his ass, hugging his thighs and making him look like a dream. One you think you’ve had many times before.

———-

Steve had insisted that the two of you eat outside, refusing to let you help with bringing out all the food. There’s a little table on the patio barely big enough for the two of you, two metal chairs warmed by the sun that Steve has pulled so they the legs are touching. 

An array of food in front of you, pasta and a meat sauce that smells divine, buttery garlic bread and cooked vegetables and an assortment of fruits all piled on top of each other. He’s coming through the back door now, the almost empty bottle of wine tucked under his arms and your now empty glasses balanced between his fingers. 

The apron he was wearing is thrown over the counter, dishes piled in the sink that you’ll wash later, his hip knocking playfully against yours while he dries them. He promised you chocolate covered strawberries for dessert and though they’re cooling in the fridge you can see a drop of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. 

When he finally sits down you swipe at it with your thumb, pulling it between your lips and humming in content at the sweetness. He’s looking at you sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders with a twinge of guilt but you just laugh, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his palm, then his wrist. 

It feels perfect out here, in more ways than one. The sun is warming your skin despite the breeze that wisps around you. It’s that time of day where it’s starting to get dark but it’s almost hazy out, the light fighting to stay. Steve’s switched the music and it filters through the house and out into the backyard, so low you’re not sure if you can really even hear it. 

And you’ve got Steve beside you, legs tangled together under the table and hands brushing against each other lazily while you eat the dinner he prepared for you. He’s grinning from ear to ear, smiling around a bite of garlic bread at the bit of sauce that’s somehow ended up on the tip of your nose. 

As much as you cherish being around your loved ones, having a house full of laughter and electricity and banter, you savor these moments of just the two of you. When it’s so quiet you can hear the softness of his breathing or the little noises his mouth makes when he’s focused on something. You love to listen to the sound of his laughter when you tell a bad joke or something happens in a show he’s watching. 

You wish you could bottle up the way it feels when he looks at you like nothing else exists, like you’re all he knows and that’s enough for him. He watches you sometimes, lip between his teeth and a look in his eye like you’ve hung the moon. 

Love doesn’t seem to do it justice. It’s all consuming and overbearing in the best way possible. Sometimes he can just glance at you and that’s all it takes. You could be at the grocery store or the farmers market or a family dinner and when he looks at you from across the room and smiles it takes your breath away and it’s like you can feel the adoration for him running through your veins. 

You’ve never felt it before him and you know you’d never feel it after him—not that you plan on ever knowing what that’s like. 

It’s just you and him. 

And when your plates are cleared and the dishes are put away, the bottle of wine finished and the both of you are more than tipsy, you feel happy. It’s how you find yourself sitting across from each other on the kitchen floor, all the lights off and only the glow of the open refrigerator surrounding you. He’s fed you enough chocolate covered strawberries to make your teeth ache and your belly is sore from laughing at the melted chocolate you’ve swiped across his chin and his nose. 

He tries to pretend like he’s annoyed but fails, gripping your face in his hands and bumping his nose with yours so both of you are covered in chocolate, loud laughs turning into quiet giggles until you’re slumped against each other, sticky with strawberry juice and melted chocolate, hands looped together the whole time. 

[cottonlemonade]

Hi there! could i get a medium to large mango with boba for tsukishima! i really love your work

Just A Dream

word count: 806 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: this has it all - for some reason, fluff, a pinch of angst and a dash of spice

warnings: mdni, nsfw

request: fluffy-spicy, clingy husband Tsukishima

Kei woke with a start. Fumbling fingers reached for the glasses on his nightstand. It was absurd, of course you‘d lay next to him when he turned around. Right? He swallowed and looked over to the other side of the bed. Sure enough, in the dark he could just make out your soft curves under the blanket, gently rising and falling in a deep peaceful sleep. He let out a sigh. It was just a dream. You hadn‘t really fought, he hadn‘t made you cry, you hadn‘t been disappointed in him. You hadn‘t left. But nevertheless, the panic in his chest felt real. He should make sure to prevent his nightmare from ever becoming reality. What an absurd thought. Or was it?

He leaned over and, his eyes now accustomed to the night, admired your features. The cute chubby cheeks all smooshed together, making you look impossibly adorable. How he ever got you to fall in love with him he‘d never know. He felt like going down that road of thought was not exactly safe for him. Your husband brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and with a touch light as a feather kissed your temple before getting out of bed.

First things first.

He headed to the kitchen to grab some water, emptying the cup in deep gulps, feeling his pulse settling down.

Quietly, he reached into the cupboards to set the table for breakfast the next morning and once he was satisfied with his work, grabbed his phone. He had used this service many times before but it had probably been months since the last time he even got you flowers. He bit his lips, scolding himself, as he selected a bouquet of your favorites to be sent to your office some time next week as a surprise. Then he stood in the dimly lit living room, looking around for inspiration. What else could he do? What would Tadashi or Akiteru do?

Didn‘t his friend just tell him last weekend that he always included a little love note in his wife‘s lunch box?

Now, Kei, as gifted of a man as he was, didn‘t cook that well. He was decent with ramen and could fry a mean egg but his skills were definitely not enough for a bento. Plus, technically it was Sunday tomorrow and it wouldn‘t make sense for the lunch box to sit around a whole day. But… he could do the love note. How cheesy. Would you even like it if he did? He sighed again. Only one way to find out. He rummaged around in his desk and found a little note pad you had gifted him as a joke last Valentine‘s day - two brachiosauruses forming a heart with their long necks. He cringed when he reached for a pen. But it had to be done. No stone should remain unturned in his endeavor to prove his love for you. With gritted teeth he wrote one note after another, but they all sounded too out there, too much, insincere.

So in the end after several crumpled dino post-its he wrote I love you, x K and, before he could change his mind, quickly stuck it into your day planner for you to find on Monday.

After another thorough check on the kitchen table to make sure he didn‘t forget any dishes, he made his way back to the bedroom. His feet, cold from the wooden floor, slipped underneath the blanket and he pulled you close to wipe away the very last remnants of panic clinging to his heart. You were right here in his arms, still asleep, still unbearably gorgeous. Kei buried his face in your hair and took a deep calming breath.

He supposed there was one more way he could show you his love tonight…

Kisses pressed to your shoulder and neck made you stir against him.

“Kei?“

You turned around, sleepily rubbing your eyes. He brought his hand from your hips up to your breasts and squeezed them gently, just the way you liked, ghosting his fingertips over your hardening nipples.

“Mmh… Kei… what?“

“I need you, sweetheart.“, he muttered. You couldn‘t know that he meant it in more ways than one.

You let out a tiny sleepy giggle. “Is that so? Well, no complaints here.“

He kissed you, elated when you immediately opened your mouth for him to deepen his affection.

“Can I … ah, y/n… can I be inside you?“

“As if I could ever say no to you…“

He raised your nightgown above your head, relishing in the sight before him - his beautiful naked wife smiling up at him.

When he entered you slowly a few moments later he felt beyond relieved. It had all just been a dream and yet, he still couldn‘t believe his luck.

a/n: this one got away from me - I’m so sorry for the added angst! I hope it’s still fine. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words and I love your writing, too!! 🌱

for requests see here

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of MHA: Day 2

UA Academy, Education

In honor of UA/education day, I'mma learn you all some practical skills, à la the summer training camp arc.

How to make Japanese-style curry from scratch!

Yes, from scratch. Plus ultra. No pre-made curry roux box necessary for those of you who may not have access to such products where you live or who want to make modifications for food intolerance (this can be made gluten free! in fact that's usually how I make it). I will include two recipes: one for curry roux, and one for curry the complete dish. This is going to be my personal recipe for making curry, curry roux included, with some notes on other twists you can add to this dish.

Recipes below the cut. Let's get cooking!

Recipe: Curry roux

You need blocks of curry roux to make Japanese-style curry. If you'd like to go the easy route, buy a box of S&B curry blocks (the most widespread brand I believe) or from any other brand. But if you'd like to make this from scratch, here's how you do it.

Required Ingredients:

Note: This recipe makes about 3.5 oz of curry blocks or the equivalent of one small container of store-bought pre-made curry blocks. You would dissolve it in 2.5-3 cups of liquid to make curry. I double this recipe to make larger batches.

3 tbsp butter (or a neutral oil like canola)

3 tbsp flour (all-purpose gluten free flour works just as well)

3 tbsp curry powder (I use S&B curry powder)

1 tbsp tomato paste

Salt

Seasoning (see below)

Pika's Special Seasoning:

Garlic powder or garlic salt

Chinese chicken bouillon powder (or just MSG) (Lee Kum Kee has a gluten free option)

Ground mustard

Celery salt

Sugar

Black and/or white pepper

Chili pepper (I use shichimi togarashi), optional for spicy

These are the ingredients I typically use to flavor my roux. You may ask how much, and well, sorry, my measurements here are in my heart. I throw in dashes based on aroma and experience. I also like my curry strong and spicy.

Any ingredient can be omitted as all each does is add a new layer of flavor. No ingredients depend on any others (though sugar with tomato paste seems like a given to me). You CAN omit the tomato paste if you're sensitive to tomatoes.

Other Optional Seasoning:

Cayenne, optional for spicy

Ground ginger (fresh ginger would probably work too)

Onion powder (especially if you don't have MSG or chicken bouillon powder)

Garam masala (around 1 tbsp adds a sweeter flavor and a cinnamon-cardamom aroma)

Honey (I personally put honey in the curry after it's made, not at this stage)

These are ingredients others use that you may consider adding for different depths of flavor. I do not typically use them in this recipe, but I have been known to experiment with them on occasion. I've listed them in the order of how likely I am to throw them in on a whim.

Instructions:

Make one batch of roux for a small, mild curry. Make two batches of roux (i.e. double the ingredients) for a stronger and/or larger batch of curry.

Heat a skillet on the stove over medium-low heat. Optionally toast dry spices if desired, though not necessary, then remove spices and set aside. Melt butter (or heat oil, if using) in pan.

Add flour and combine. I personally use a nonstick pan-safe whisk to make sure it combines well, but a wooden spoon or silicone paddle would work too.

Reduce heat to low (medium-low if you're ready to watch that thing like a hawk). Cook 5-15 minutes stirring constantly to keep the roux from sticking to the pan and burning. You're looking for the roux mixture to turn light brown like peanut butter. It will develop a nutty aroma as it cooks.

Add curry powder, tomato paste, salt, and all desired seasoning ingredients. Stir to combine. The mixture should become dry and pasty.

Cook for 30 seconds to 1 minute or until all ingredients are well-combined and then turn off burner.

If using roux soon, set aside. If not using roux soon, put all the roux in a container lined with parchment paper. Score the paste with a knife to make it easy to break and remove. In an air-tight container, the roux will keep in the fridge for up to 1 month* or in the freezer for up to 4 months. *Caveat: If you use chicken bouillon powder or any ingredient that includes meat, I do not know if it will store in the fridge for longer than a few days. In this case, I would suggest freezing the roux to be safe.

Recipe: Japanese-style curry

Ingredients:

Note: My portions are determined by what fits in my pot.

2 tbsp neutral oil (canola)

1-2 lb protein (you can use any protein i.e. beef, pork, chicken, seafood, tofu, tonkatsu, etc., but I usually just stick with mushrooms for ease; if I do meat, I usually pick ground beef or cubed beef chuck)

1 batch of curry roux for mild curry (or 4 blocks packaged curry roux), 2 batches for strong (see above recipe) (or 8 blocks of packaged curry roux)

1 sweet onion (can substitute with yellow or white onion), sliced into half moons

1-2 carrots, peeled and sliced rangiri style

5-6 Yukon gold potatoes, cut into large chunks

8 oz button mushrooms (16 oz if mushrooms are the primary protein), cut into bite-sized chunks

2-3 stalks of celery, cut into bite-sized chunks

4-6 cloves or equivalent of minced garlic

1 quart chicken stock (dashi or vegetable stock or other stock or even water can also be used)

Meiji milk chocolate, 4-5 pieces (you can use any chocolate you like)

1-2 tbsp honey (add to taste)

1 grated apple, optional (I don't usually do this but it's a thing some people like to do)

Cheddar cheese, shredded

Cooked starch of choice i.e. rice or noodles

Pickled ginger, optional garnish

Fukujinzuke pickles, optional garnish

Instructions:

If your protein is raw and requires cooking or browning, prepare it first. Heat oil in a pot over medium heat and sear all the sides brown or cook ground meat until browned. For seared meat, do not worry about cooking it completely; it will finish cooking in the curry. Remove protein from pot. You can leave the drippings in the pot if you'd like to add their flavor to the curry. Ground meat might produce an excess amount of fat though, which you may want to clean out first.

Heat more oil in the pot and add the vegetables. Cook on medium heat for 5 or so minutes or until the vegetables start to develop color and the onions turn translucent.

Add back the protein and any accumulated juices to the pot.

Add chicken stock (or broth/liquid of choice) and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and cover. Simmer until ingredients are tender and potatoes can be pierced with a fork, approximately 15 minutes.

Remove lid and reduce heat to low.

Add curry roux (or packaged curry blocks), chocolate pieces, honey, and grated apple if using. (If you'd like, you can break the blocks and chocolate up or shave them into small pieces with a knife.) Stir constantly, making sure to scrape the bottom of the pan often, until curry and chocolate are completely melted and incorporated in the liquid.

Simmer 5 minutes while stirring constantly. Cook longer if you want it to thicken more.

Serve over rice or noodles. Top with shredded cheddar cheese (in my opinion there is no such thing as too much cheese). Optionally garnish with pickled ginger and/or fukujinzuke pickles.

Store leftover curry in the fridge for 3 days. The curry and liquid may separate, but they'll combine again when you heat it up and mix it together. I'm not sure about freezing leftovers as it usually doesn't last long enough for me to get to that stage, but it's worth a try.

Now eat up, you damn nerds!

[tsukimefuku]

THE FOODIES & GOODIES EVENT MASTERLIST — JUJUTSU KAISEN

Bento Box Blunder (by @pmpmyread) Pairing/Characters: Kento Nanami x f!Reader Tags/cw: None, barring the gratuitous mentions of food. Summary: You’d always admired Kento Nanami from a distance, even harbouring a small crush on him, sentiments you’d only allowed yourself to indulge within the safe sanctuary of your discretion. Then one day, you stole his lunch.

-

Tuna Mayo (by @redlikerozez) Pairing/characters: Inumaki Toge x gn!Reader Tags/cw: Canon typical descriptions of violence, dealing with loss of limb, probably inaccurate description of making rice balls. Summary: Inumaki Toge tries to make rice balls in the aftermath of Shibuya. Reader helps him out. Or an Inumaki Toge-centric fic about dealing with the events of Shibuya while also being absolutely whipped for GN!Reader.

-

Get that bread, Sir (by @rahuratna) Characters: Nanami Kento. Ijichi Kiyotaka. Tags/cw: fluff, comedy. Summary: One assistant. One sandwich. One ruthless adversary in the quest for quality bread.

-

Love you a latte (by @kentocalls) Pairing/characters: Fushiguro Toji x f!Reader Tags/cw: Fluff. Summary: Lazy mornings with Toji and a passion for coffee.

-

Lollipop kiss (by @tsukimefuku) Pairing/characters: Kusakabe Atsuya x gn!Reader Tags/cw: comedy, fluff, this man is completely clueless but reader isn’t making things any easier. making out and happy ending. there is a bartender very invested in the drama. a little suggestive if you squint. Summary: your workplace crush, kusakabe, is pretty dense when it comes to romance, so you try to ease things out with a bag of lollipops.

-

My Cinnamon Girl (by @actuallysaiyan) Pairing/characters: Nanami Kento x f!Reader Tags/cw: smoking, general fluff Summary: Kento is your regular customer and one night when he really needs you, he ends up finding you outside smoking and you offer him some pastries.

-

Love you a waffle lot, you know? (by @senseifupa) Pairing/characters: Higuruma Hiromi x f!Reader Tags/cw: sfw with smoochin, fluff, established relationship, soft Hiromi. Summary: Hiromi and you share warm moments over waffles.

-

My "Batter" Half (by @seireiteihellbutterfly) Pairing/characters: Nanami x f!Reader Tags/cw: saw, fluff, cuteness. Summary: You decide to make one of your favorite South Indian recipes while accompanied by Nanami.

-

Good Enough to Eat (by @fattybattysblog) Pairing/characters: Mahito x Female Original Character Tags/cw: Smut, inappropriate use of food and cursed techniques, temperature play, Mahito is his own content warning. Summary: "Can't I just visit a friend?" he asked slyly. "We'd have to be friends first," she grumbled. Mahito's laughter echoed through the room, a sound that made Hairi's skin prickle. He sat upright and rested his arm on his knee. "Touché," he said, licking another drip of ice cream. "But, you know, we're not so different. We could be friends." Hairi raised an eyebrow. "Friends don't usually show up unannounced and uninvited." "Isn't spontaneity the spice of life?" he leaned forward, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Besides, I think we both know there's more between us than just animosity." She scoffed, taking a defiant bite of her own cone. "In your dreams." "Actually... in yours," he purred, his gaze lingering on her lips.

-

Egg Fried Rice (by @tiny-wooden-robot-fics) Pairing/characters: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Tags/cw: Fluff, Mentions of food and alcohol, Flirting, Pre-established friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, There is some suggestiveness near the end, This is part of a series Summary: “I was,” she admits, “but I realized I didn’t feel like working out tonight and decided to make greasy food instead.” She raises an eyebrow, taking his spoon from him and helping herself to his bowl of fried rice. “And anyway, I’m allowed to eat and drink whatever I want, Suguru.” “The point of cooking enough for both of us is so we can each have our own… is it not?” He looks pointedly at the spoon in her hand.  “It tastes better when I take it from you,” she laughs. She holds a spoonful of rice up to his mouth. He hesitates only for a moment before letting her feed him.  “You’re definitely different,” he chuckles once he’s done chewing. He doesn’t realize he’s said the words aloud until she goes quiet, her brown eyes wide and staring. 

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Icing Is The Spice Of Life

Lucien Vanserra x Elain Archeron

Word Count - 1.9k

Author's Note - pure sweet (haha) fluff of my Elucien babies.

Warnings - implied smut at the end, some fun little sexual tension throughout.

“Elain, sweetheart?” Lucien called from the hall as he made his way to the kitchen. “Did you order something to be delivered? There’s a delivery cart that's been sitting outside the back gate for the last hour.”

The answer was evident before her reply could even be uttered. Walking through the kitchen door, Lucien took in the chaos that was occurring. Crates were stacked along the wall. The table was overflowing with sacks of flour and sugar and various nuts. Elain stood in the middle of the room holding a crate of butter as she nodded to the delivery driver.

“Um, just set that over there I suppose,” she muttered. Her worried look grew deeper as she calculated the mess around her. 

“What is all this?,” Lucien breathed out as he spun in a circle in the middle of the now cramped kitchen. 

“Well…,” Elain began sheepishly. “I may have slightly over-committed on promising holiday cookies to our friends and family.”

Lucien quirked his brow as a sly smile spread across his face. “Over-committed might be an understatement.”

“I know,” Elain wailed pathetically. “Its just that -”

With a quick hand in the air, Lucien stopped her protest. “It’s fine, my sweet. Not to worry.” Turning again on the spot he stood, he gathered his surroundings once more. “We just need a plan.”

“We?” Elain squeaked as the crate of butter sagged against her legs. “You’re going to help me?”

“Of course I am,” he stated matter of factly. “They are my friends and family too aren’t they?”

Before she could utter another word he swept over and grabbed the crate from her hands, planting a tender kiss to her forehead as he did. “I’ll take this down to cold storage for now. Tell him to leave the rest just outside the door and I’ll handle it from there.”

A few minutes later, his steps echoed up the cellar stairs. Elain had donned her well worn apron and was struggling to drag a heavy sack of sugar from the kitchen door. 

“Leave it,” Lucien said as he slipped his hands over her hips. The soft command of his voice caused her to shiver as she stood. Slipping past her, he made his way over to the small wooden table below the kitchen window. He paused for just a moment as he rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow. In one quick movement he bent at the waist and swung two large sacks of flour and sugar over his shoulders. Depositing them along the wall with the others, he spun to face his mate, hands already gathering his long hair back from his face. 

“A pen and paper if you will, my sweet.” Hair tied back and out of the way, he began to pat at his shirt front pocket. “And my -”

Elain’s hand popped from her apron pocket before he could finish his request, handing over the folded reading glasses. He left them everywhere; laid upon books, on top of his desk, on side tables, yet hardly ever where he needed them at the moment. It was just one of those things she did, gathering them up through her day and sticking them in her pocket. A quick dig through the kitchen drawer and she then also handed over a pen and notepad. 

“Ah, thank you.” Lucien settled himself into the chair at the now empty table, sliding his glasses over his nose. “I’ll need the recipes of all the cookies you planned on making,” he said as he peered over his glasses at her. 

Turning toward the counter, Elain grabbed her recipe box and thumbed out all the cards she had already set to the front and handed them over. 

“And what should I do now?,” she giggled. The sight of him peering over his glasses never failed to send her heart into a flutter.

“Have a seat. Relax for a bit,” he smiled at her. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day on your feet.”

One hour and two cups of tea later, a plan was formed. Lucien tossed his glasses onto the table as he handed Elain a surprisingly thorough checklist. She sighed out a laugh, slipping the glasses into her pocket as she surveyed the list. 

“These three all start with the same basic dough. So you start there while I tackle the inventory,” he said pointing to the top of the list. 

“Inventory, hmm? Very official,” she giggled as she pulled her face into mock seriousness. 

Lucien smiled a bright smile as he pulled her into his chest. “Someone’s gotta be the muscle around here.” He landed a peck of a kiss to her forehead before quickly lifting his mate in the air, arms gripping tightly under her perfect backside. 

“Lucien!,” she squealed with a kick of her feet.

He promptly turned and set her gently on the counter of the kitchen island, sliding his hands from their hold and up her sides before cradling her laughing face. 

“Get to work, muscles,” she teased with a nudge from her knee and a squeeze of his bicep. 

“Yes ma’am,” he drawled seductively as he leaned in for a burning kiss. As he pulled away, Elain couldn’t help but notice the flames rising in his eye. 

“We have a lot of work to do,” she smiled at him, almost regretting the amount of work she had landed in their laps.

Clearing his throat and pulling his hands from her face, Lucien jolted into a perfectly straight posture. “At your service,” he intoned deeply before giving a crisp salute followed by a sneaky wink. 

With another giggle, Elain dropped herself back down to the floor and moved over to the other counter to begin her dough, but not before peeking over her shoulder to catch the sight of his well fitted shirt rippling across his back as he lifted more of the sacks from the floor. 

Several hours later, the system was working like a well oiled machine. Several of the items on Lucien’s thorough checklist were ticked off and the mates were working in companionable silence.

Lucien swiped an arm across his forehead depositing even more flour to his already streaked face just as a tinkling bell rang. 

“Pardon me, sweetheart,” he said as he slid behind Elain, hands drifting to her hips as he did. Pulling open the oven door, he leaned down and pulled out the two trays of cookies. “This is the last batch of sugar cookies, what’s next on the list?”

Elain leaned over to where the list was taped to the cabinet door. “Next is icing the sugar cookies and starting the oatmeal walnuts.” She dusted her hands on her apron and then reached for a piping bag. “I have the icing all ready for you. I’ll start on the other batch of cookies.”

A ringing laugh rang through the kitchen. “You really trust my artistry that much, my sweet?” Lucien finished placing the last of the cookies on the cooling rack as he turned to take the now full piping bag.

“I’m sure they will be perfect,” she laughed.

Lucien set himself to work, pulling his face into exaggerated concentration. Lips twisted to one side and the tip of his tongue poking out, his mechanical eye squinting. “If you say so, sweetheart.” 

The time passed quickly, Lucien completing two dozen nearly perfect cookies before a yelp broke the silence. 

“Oh!,” Elain gasped loudly. “I forgot to soften the butter first!”

The tip of Lucien's icing bag slipped from his nearly perfect cookie and smeared along the table at her gasp. “Bring it here,” he commanded before popping the now ruined cookie in his mouth. 

Elain walked over with the sticks of butter and handed them over, but instead of taking them from her, Lucien just wrapped his large hands over her own. With a flicker in his eye and a smirk on his face, he smiled at his mate standing before him as he slowly heated the fire in his veins, concentrating its heat into his palms. 

“You’re not supposed to eat them, Lu,” Elain sighed as she watched him chew. He only winked his golden eye in response before making an exaggerated swallow. 

“Consider it a taste test,” he laughed as he lifted his hand from hers and kissed her knuckles. “There, softened perfectly. Just like you.”

A heat of its own crept over Elain’s cheeks as she leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Thank you,” she said as she returned to her work. Lucien once again picked up the piping bag to finish his decorating, but not before taking a moment to watch the sway of her hips as she stood at the counter humming softly to herself. 

As the light outside the kitchen window faded past the low light of dusk, Lucien twirled his wrist absentmindedly, lighting the faelights along the wall. His hand dropped back to his cup, swirling the last dregs of his tea before taking the final swallow, his other hand in his lap kneading along the arches of Elain’s feet. Her chair was pushed close to his, feet propped in his lap as she lounged back and sipped her from her own cup. 

“More tea?,” she questioned as she moved to sit up. 

“No, no. I’ve got it,” he waved his hand at her as he reached for the teapot between them. Pouring another cup of tea, he snagged a cookie from the stack beside him. The kitchen was full of the remains of their work. Tins lined the counters, filled to the brim with delicious delights. Cookie sheets and mixing bowls were stacked in the sink, flour dusting nearly every surface. 

“Lu!,” Elain admonished with a giggle. “At least eat the broken ones. I was going to fill extra tins just in case.” She reached to the counter behind her and brought the plate of discarded sweets to the table. Grabbing one half of a broken iced gingersnap she held it out to her mate. 

Instead of taking it from her, Lucien leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the entire half with a gleam in his eye. 

“You nearly took my finger with it!,” she squealed as she snapped her arm back and pulled it to her chest. 

But he was just as quick. In a flash, his hand encircled her wrist and brought it back to his lips. He flashed a lopsided smile just before he stuck out his tongue and with a slow caress, he licked the icing that was left along the side of her finger. 

“And it would have been just as sweet,” he smirked, voice soft and low. 

Elain froze, eyeing his tongue as it swiped the last of the icing from his own lips. “It’s – It’s been a long day. I think we should call it a night,” she said hardly above a whisper.

“You read my mind, my sweet,” he responded in an equally low tone. 

Her feet dropped from his lap with a quickness and she reached to untie her apron. Slipping the garment from her neck, she tossed it over her chair. Lucien mimicked her movements and his apron soon joined hers, their footsteps soon thudding along the hallway floor.

“Lucien?,” Elain called from the foot of the stairs.

With a sliding skid, Lucien reappeared in the kitchen and snagged the half full piping bag laying on the kitchen island. “Coming!,” he called back before scurrying down the hall once more. 

[yourstrqly]

hi i saw your request are open and i wanted to know if you could write where clement novalak (f2 driver) gives his partner a necklace?

★ . . . 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐍𝟐𝟏

pairing: clement novalak x reader (no pronouns used)

in which he gifts you a dainty silver necklace with his initials when he comes over to your place

the early hour of the evening settled upon you as the wind outside grew colder and the sun didn't show an arm anymore, leaving the sky darker and dull behind your closed curtains of your small living room.

On your lap rested a bowl of a day old rice mixed with tofu and some vegetables you had found in your freezer, that you decided to spice up with a splash of a sauce you've got in the pantry — it was a quick meal, everything thrown in the pan and boom, your food was ready to eat after only a five minute expenditure. It also hit the spot, and the half-full box of cookies your french boyfriend sent to your house yesterday after you had ranted on the phone how the day in the office had been utter shit and you really craved something sweet, paired rather well with the tea as a desert on this boring night.

some friends of yours went out in a club but that wasn't for you, when you knew, you had to show up the next day at work — you didn't want to wake up with a massive headache, too, if you were being honest, so a chill night at home it was.

sitting on the sofa between lots of pillows and a plush blanket thrown over your lap, you pushed the ceramic bowl back on the table and grabbed the remote to change the series; you decided, you weren't in the mood for the british bake off and searched for the percy jackson series to rewatch.

watching annabeth, percy and grover ensembling the given task by the oracle, you re-visited the time where you still were the same age, dreaming of fighting the furies and other strange greek myths monsters alongside the trio, falling in love with the handsome apollo kid luke and forming a friendship with clarisse, a child of the god of war. now you were years older than them, sitting in your shoe box sized apartment, mentally drained because of work and half asleep as you took a bit of the slightly stale cookie.

the door rang, breaking your tales of being a halfgod up. a sign escaped your throat as your eyes flitted to the clock on your wall; it was nine pm and you wondered who wanted to grace his or her presence at your door at that time of the day. you weren't in the mood for a visitor and prayed for a lost delivery man.

feet tapped against the wooden floor, reaching the door. you pulled the doorknob open, eyes roaming the body of the man who kneeled down and fumbled with his bag.

"can i help you?", you grumbled, irritation laced your voice.

the man's head turned upwards, a grin widely presented on his lips as his dreamy brown eyes looked into yours; you mirrored his smile, happy to see clem.

"hey treasure, rough day, eh?", he asked, standing up to pull you in a much needed hug. clem's body radiated warmth and his woody vanilla scent brought you immense comfort. he felt you nod on his shoulder, face mushed in the crook between his left shoulder and strong neck.

the french didn't let you go as you went back inside, foot pushing the door close behind you and you went deeper in your apartment till he turned you both around and he fell backwards first on the sofa. "Want to talk about it?"

"no", you mumbled, a purr rumbling in your throat while clem's fingers messaged your scalp. "'m happy you're here, clemy."

you laid there, relaxing against him, only hearing the soft noises of the tv diddling in the background as your boyfriends hand cradled your head, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. soft butterfly kisses followed, none filled with nothing but romance and peace; your right hand found its place at the nape of his neck, tugging his hair to hear a sweet moan of his, one you loved to hear whenever you slowly made out — the pair of you knew that tonight's kissing and touching wouldn't result in sex but nonetheless you enjoyed to dance to the edge.

abruptly, clement stopped the kiss, caressing your warm cheek with his thumb. then he dipped his finger between your lips, feeling the wetness of your mouth and a groan left his throat. his eyes were hyperfocused on your tongue, which glided along his thick thumb, sucking and nibbling playfully on it.

with his free hand, he pulled something out a pocket of his trousers, fiddling with it as his brown doe eyes watched yours; a blush coated his cheeks at the lustfilled gaze of yours and he felt his trousers tightened.

gently, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "i love you."

you hummed, repeating his words, basking in the moment of being loved and in love. then, you felt coldness running around your throat and clem's palm laying on top of it — it was dainty, another necklace he got you.

"open your eyes, treasure," the french man whispered, resulting you to do so.

fiddling with the dainty silver band of the necklace, your fingertips stop at the pendant, two small curved letters 'cn' as well as the number 21, clems racing number. it was beautiful and unpretentious, going along prettily with the rest of your jewellery, mostly your boyfriend brought for you.

"Oh clemy, i love it", you mumbled, kissing the cold pendant before looking up at your bearded boyfriend, giving him a big smooch. "merci beaucoup."

"Tout pour toi. Si je te donnais les étoiles, tu les aurais entre tes mains, treasure."

= everything for you. if I could give you the stars, you'd have them in your hands.

CLEMY IS THE LOML GUYS !!!

[firstdivisiongirl]

Hi hope you’re doing well could you write scenarios for S/O who keeps on stealing Sanji clothes without him noticing it when she does this behind his back to keep it for herself when she is cold at night time

Hi. I’m a little stressed out with personal stuff, but I’m working to relax. You’re request is super cute. I kept it kind of short and sweet, so I hope you like it!

Sanji x Reader: To Steal a Shirt

It could get really cold sometimes on the Going Merry, which is terrible at night when you wanna be all warm in bed.  That’s why you always took your boyfriend Sanji’s shirts.  They kept you nice and warm plus the scent of seafood and spices were really comforting to you and helped you sleep better.

It was hard trying to get these pieces though.  But you knew exactly how to do it!  Sanji got up early at 5AM every morning to start breakfast.  Everyone else in the boy’s cabin was fast asleep.  You would look for the wooden box labeled Sanji and open it.  The clothes were of course perfectly folded and you’d pick what you’d want.

Then you’d go back to your room without making a sound and save it for the night.  And that is how to steal a shirt!

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀𝐧 𝐎𝐥’ 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐎𝐟 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲

Bucky had been away for a long, long time, and your heart ached with missing him. Although, the time apart had allowed you to plan a surprise that would rock his world once he walked back through the door of your home, and into another era.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — CW!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — Tooth rotting fluff, alcohol consumption, Bucky has a housewife kink

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — I got so inspired by this idea that I ended up making a playlist for it.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — HERE

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 — @allcapsbingo 𝗢𝟰 — 1940s — Masterlist — @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗜𝟱 — Time Travel AU — Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

A dream come true was something you could only ever hope for – that one day you would have all of what your heart had yearned for. You wished the same for Bucky. 

While it may not have been possible for all of Bucky’s dreams to become a reality – that flying car was a little bit harder to achieve on your own – you, however, had a pretty good hunch that what you had in store for him as soon as he came home, would be pretty damn close to ticking a few boxes. 

Your apartment, once a dream of your own and entirely yours, had taken on a new life of a golden era. Warm tones from beige and brown, to cream and gold, filled the space in an assortment of features and nicknacks, from the upholstery to the very furniture that sat proudly in your living room and kitchen. 

The research behind such a bold move had paid off in many ways – not only were you standing amongst Bucky’s dream home of the forties, you were revelling in the feel of the swishing fabric of your dress. Simple in its design and comfortable in its proportions – thank you sewing machine, you thought happily. It embodied the very essence of a nineteen forties housewife; something Bucky had let slip as a fantasy, though, as progressive as the ages himself, he realised that was just that, a fantasy. 

One that you were going to bring to life, just for a day. 

Your peep-toe heels clicked over the tiled floor of your kitchen as you swayed your hips, a mixing bowl in hand while the radio you had found at an antique store played The Andrews Sisters. A plum pie, a delicacy that Bucky’s mother had made for his birthdays in his youth – a treat to spoil both him and Steve, much smaller but no less innocent – baked away in your oven, filling the room with the sweet scent of spiced fruit and pastry. 

Bucky had been away on a no contact mission for weeks now, and your heart ached from missing him – the loss of his smile and bright eyes, paired with the soft voice you had come to associate with comfort, with home, had been hard. Nonetheless, you kept yourself busy with the planning behind this surprise. 

The kitchen was completely transformed. Cupboards were filled to the brim with dishes that would have made his mother swoon. A wooden phonograph was placed on the coffee table in the living room as the centrepiece of your plan, perfectly in view from the kitchen. Low, quiet jazz, complementing the voices of the sisters, played from the aged horn and you hummed along.

Your dress flowed from your waist as you stepped around your kitchen, and you ignored the strange, new restriction of wearing stockings and a garter belt – you wanted to make this as authentic as possible, and if Bucky reacted well, it would make it all worth it. 

Strong, sugary smells filled the air as you opened the oven, your plum pie was baking away and turning golden brown, and you grinned as you watched the pastry bubble in the heat. “Almost there,” you sang happily, and you closed the oven. 

A trumpet solo played over the radio and you danced in place for a moment, letting the music carry you and take you back to the smell of the Barnes’ kitchen – the vision of Winnie working away with Bucky at her heels with Becca, and the sound of old cartoons on the television in the background. 

It was his home, and now, you had breathed life into it once more. 

Heavy footsteps suddenly sounded at the door, the jiggle of the doorknob followed soon after, and you gasped, hastily placing the mixing bowl down onto the counter. The door opened with a loud creak, and, “Baby! I’m home! Oh-”

Silence followed the shocked exclamation, and you couldn’t help but giggle quietly. You adjusted your hair and smoothed the skirt of your dress in your nerves. 

“Baby? What the hell?” A solid thump of a bag hitting the floor followed his question, and then he walked down the entryway, where he paused again – he must have seen the phonograph. “What- Where the hell did you get one of those–? Sweetheart, where are you?”

“In here–the kitchen,” you called back. You bent your knee slightly and tilted your head, battering your lashes; the effect instantaneous. Bucky rounded the corner, absolutely flabbergasted, but once his gaze landed on you, he froze in place. His mouth fell slack in shock and his eyes widened. “Welcome home, honey,” you cooed, smiling with blood red lips.

“Doll,” he breathed, looking you up and down; taking in the fabric and length of your dress, the tight nylon stockings that were held up by a garter belt, then, your heels. “Oh, fuck.”

“Now, James, that’s no way to speak in the presence of a lady,” you teased, waggling your finger. “Behave now, or you won’t be getting any of my pie.”

“I- What?” Bucky sputtered, blinking rapidly as though to clear his mind of the hallucination. “What? Are you–are you for real? This isn’t a dream?”

“Honey, if this was a dream,” you said, sauntering forward, making sure to watch his expression. “Could I do this?” You leaned in close and kissed him on the cheek – the stain of lipstick staying on his tanned, scruffed skin. His fingers brushed over the spot with a sharp exhale. “Would you like a drink–some whiskey?”

Bucky shook his head in disbelief and moved to step closer, but you placed a hand on his chest; blood red nails, matching your lipstick, were sharp in contrast against the black of his tac suit. “You’ve had a long day, love. It’s time for your wife to take care of you–would you like some scotch, or whiskey?”

“I’m dreamin’,” he breathed, awestruck and in a state of utter disbelief. “No way this is fuckin’ real.”

You grinned. That Brooklyn twang had come back full force in his voice, he had slipped and he hadn’t even realised. “Oh, it’s real, husband. You go on and sit down, let me take care a’you.”

“Husband,” Bucky murmured. You winked and pointed at the dining table that was set to cater for two, the decorations extravagant and homely. “Husband.”

The liquor cabinet, restocked just for this occasion, tinkered and clinked as you grabbed a set of glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “I have missed you so, honey,” you sighed, pouring the amber liquid into both tumblers. “It’s not the same ‘round here without my man to keep me warm.”

Bucky choked. “Oh, doll, ‘m back now, yeah?” 

“I made you your favourite for dinner,” you continued, smiling as you placed the glass full of whiskey in front of him. “Roast and all the fixings–can’t have my man starved now, not after he works so hard.”

“You spoil me, darlin’,” he praised, a boyish smirk on his lips. “My best girl takin’ such good care a’me.”

In lieu of an answer, you turned your back and strode into the kitchen, sashying your hips as you went. The timer by the oven went off just as you rounded the corner, and you paused to take a deep breath – Bucky loved it, you had surprised him in the best way possible. 

Plating the roast went smoothly and you were sure to give Bucky double the portion – even in a fantasy the man would be starved. “Honey, would you care to lower the lights?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, almost breathless, and the lights in the dining room dimmed. You heard him sit back down in his chair with a heavy sigh. “What the fuck,” he muttered, but you could hear the grin in his voice – he was happy. 

You rounded the corner with his plate. “Here you are.” The plate, brimming with food, seemed to light another fire inside of him, and he whistled as he looked at the steaming roast. “Just you wait, honey,” you rushed, booping him on the nose and making him blink in surprise. “A gal needs her own plate.”

Bucky chuckled as you turned tail back to the kitchen and returned with your plate. You sat opposite him and grabbed your glass of whiskey, raising it for a toast. “To having my husband home, ‘cos damn it all, I miss the oaf,” you said, a light laugh in your voice. 

“To comin’ home to my wife, the one I love with all a’me and who makes the best roast this side a’the Brooklyn bridge,” he cheered, clinking your glass with his own. 

Dinner passed without a hitch. Bucky had eaten through his plate like a starved man, as you expected, while you worked through your serving at a more sedate pace. You couldn’t help but smirk and giggle when he made noises of pure satisfaction and contentment at your cooking. 

Finally, Bucky slumped back in his seat with the biggest grin on his lips and you couldn’t help but stare. “What you lookin’ at, darlin’?”

“Just the love of my life,” you sighed happily, placing your chin in your hand. “Most handsome fella I ever did see, you know.” To your utter shock, Bucky blushed and ducked his head. “Oh, don’t you go telling me no one’s been sweet on you?”

“Stop,” he groaned. “This is jus’ so much–you’re even talkin’ like the dames back then.”

You winked. “Honey, what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t know what my husband liked? A’course I know I’m talking like those dames.” Rising from the table, you collected the plates and cutlery, much to his protest. “No, you just sit and relax. I’ll take care of this.”

The timer in the kitchen went off again and you hurried over, placing the dirty dishes in the sink to deal with later. You peered into the oven and felt another sense of pride swell in your chest – golden brown pastry was cooked to perfection with bubbles of plum juice and sugar bubbling in the gaps between the scored lattice. 

“What smells so good, darlin’?” Bucky asked from behind you, and you gasped in fright, spinning quickly enough to send the skirt of your dress whirling. “Whoa, easy, sweetheart. Jus’ me.”

“Don’t you do that again,” you scolded, narrowing your eyes at him. “Next time you’ll have your pie privileges taken away.” 

Bucky pouted and cocked his hip to lean against the counter, crossing his arms so his left arm clinked and whirred as the plates set. “You’re no fun, doll. C’mon, indulge your husband jus’ this once, yeah? I work so hard, after all.”

“You can wait for me to get the pie ready, you brute.” Bucky laughed and stepped out of your way, content to watch you organise the counter so the pie could rest and cool. “Will you fetch the icecream from the freezer, honey?”

“Sure.” The hum of the freezer was quiet and you waited, waited, then, “You made ice cream?”

“I did.” You beamed as Bucky placed the container on the counter, your homemade vanilla ice cream finally set and sweet enough to devour. “Thank you, honey.”

Bucky kissed your temple and leaned against the counter again. “You almost done with that pie, darlin’?”

You nodded once. It was a fiddly process, but finally, the pie sat on the cooling rack. “There we go,” you hummed, staring proudly at your baked plum pie. “I can’t wait for you to take a bite, my love. I followed an old recipe.”

“Now ain’t I a lucky fella,” Bucky said, that twang in his voice so strong you could have sworn you had rewound the decades. “Such an ol’ fashioned gal. C’mere.”

Flesh and metal hands found yours and pulled you into the middle of the kitchen, just as the radio played a familiar tune, “Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again; it's been a long, long time.”

You placed your hands on Bucky’s chest and smiled at him, and he placed his hands on your waist, swaying you in place as the music played a solo. The two of you danced slowly in the kitchen, in one another’s arms, happy and content to be back together. 

Bucky brought you closer and you linked your hands around his back as best you could, standing as close as possible to him. Kitty Kallen continued to sing, “Haven't felt like this, my dear, since I can't remember when; it's been a long, long time.” 

There was a low hum in your ear, and you blinked. Bucky was humming along to the song, holding you close and swaying slowly side to side – a romantic embrace of the ages. He hummed and lowly sang the words, “You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you, or just how empty they all seemed without you.”

Together, you both hummed the final lines of the song, holding each other tight. “So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, and kiss me once again; it's been a long, long time.”

You pulled back from Bucky and cupped his face in your hands. “Welcome home, baby,” you whispered, and you kissed him on the lips, pouring all your love for the man before you into it – the yearning for him to be close, and to be one with you. 

Bucky smiled into the kiss and held your hips in his hands. His grip was tight and you squeaked against his lips as he lifted and turned with you in his grip, placing you onto the kitchen counter away from the pie. “And ain’t I glad to be home, sweetheart.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[jay-m3]

Employee of the month

Male reader insert Dom reader x sub Vox Warning: NSFW, Language, Orgasm control, breath play, stomach play (idk what its called), dry humping

Imagine...

Being hired by Vox personally, no one knows why he did it nor questions it because, well because he's the boss man

But there will be times when other employees are edging closer to ask WHY

You are known to be very clumsy and chaotic minded where you just break expensive equipment

Its not your fault someone placed that cable that was connected to a projector

Nor was it your fault you dropped a box full of cameras

So Vox will have many, many emails about what you have done

At least 5 times a week you'll be in his office getting yelled at, why did Vox even hired you again?

This job isn't your expertise, you're not qualified nor do you have an idea of modern technology

So really, it's not your fault you get sent to Vox's office once again from spilling two gallons of lube that was getting shipped to Valentino’s floor.

You patiently wait in a seat, watching Vox yell at his poor assistant that was actually really nice to you. Now that you noticed, Vox did seem more irritated to those around him, you wonder why.

Once the assistant leaves, you were already in Vox's space, nose pressed to his neck, smelling his pheromones.

Smelt like medal with a hint of actual human spice that indicates his stress level.

Vox tries to push you away but you quickly hold his hands and start to make out with him.

At first it was a struggle but after a minute, Vox relaxes in your arms as you entrance him.

This, this is what your good at. Not holding a camera or making Vox's coffee.

You are a professional in the BDSM world. You're a great Dom and sub. It depends on what your partner needs and at this moment, Vox needed a reminder of your Dom side.

Bending Vox over his own desk after getting him bare chested with hickeys around his collarbone.

You're biting and sucking on his skin continues on his back. Wanting him to be covered in your marks.

Vox will get squirmy, skin getting more and more sensitive by your touch.

He will be more hyper aware of your touch, electic currents zapping up his antennas.

"You have been such a brat recently. Yelling and throwing things at everyone. Don't worry, I know that you're just a lost little prince who needs to be set straight, huh?"

You roam your hands down his sides before getting a firm grip of his hips. You guide them down against the desk which makes Vox glitch from the sudden friction.

You control his thrusts, slowing his hips before speeding the tempo, teasing him as he whines.

"Master, please-" "You don't deserve my hand on your pathetic cock. This is the only way you get to cum, got it? In fact for this session, you have 40 seconds to cum. If you don't I will leave you like this until tomorrow morning."

With that threat lingering in the air, Vox grips the edge of the table to ground himself from whining like a baby.

40...39...38...

Starting to count down, you start to speed up his hips tempo against the wooden frame, letting him rut against the object.

"Please, I can't- Master I need more!"

37...36...35...34...

You run a hand up to his throat, gripping it in a firm grasp as he closes his eyes, buffering slightly at the pressure.

33...32...31...30...

You huff as you press yourself against his ass, guiding his thrusts with your own.

Vox archs, gasping desperately as he quickly presses himself against you, slightly wiggling his hips to feel your cock, unintentionally making himself choke against your hand.

29...28...27...26...25...

Helping him out a bit, you reach your hand that was on his hips over to his stomach, rubbing it before pressing down. Moving your hand in circular motion

24...23...22...21..20...

Vox spasms, as the pressure of your hand makes his body curl itself in. The feeling of fullness, the tightness in his abdomen messing with his sensors as they confuse themselves that something is actually inside him.

19...18...17...16...15...

You tighten your hold on his neck, watching as the electric current keeps sizzling out.

Vox gasps, getting light headed as he let's you control his body, control his pleasure.

14...13...12...11...10...9...

"I can feel your drool, prince." You teased.

Vox blinks out of his haziness for second, swallowing his saliva as he feels it leak down his screen and on to your hand.

Embarrassment courses through him as he tries to hide his face against the desk only for you to keep his upper body lifted.

8...7...6...5...4...

"Let go prince."

3...2...

"Master!"

1...

Vox glitches, body slumping down as he release on the table, in his trousers.

You let him ride out his orgasm, taking your hand away from his throat and stomach as you hold him close.

Now this is why Vox hired you. Is why he's in a contract with you.

And it's already been three months in.

[futfemfantasies]

Not for long \\ giovana queiroz x reader

Prompt #30

Stirring the food in the pot, the aroma of the different herbs and spices hit your nostrils. Just as you put the wooden spoon down, you feel muscular arms envelope your waist and you lean back into Gio. You feel her pull you closer while her lips attach to your exposed neck. One hand goes under your shirt and while the other slightly underneath the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes flutter close but re-open sooner than you’d like, as you smell something burning. You quickly try to salvage the food but it was too late. You turn to Gio who has a mischievous look on her face and is laughing at your supposed ‘angry’ face.

“What are we going to eat now?” You ask, still made about the now burnt spaghetti sauce. Taking a step towards you, Gio scans her eyes up and down your frame and bites her lip slightly.

“I can think of something” Your eyes go wide at Gio’s suggestion and you lightly hit her on the arm.

“We can order in and have a lazy night okay?”

You agree with Gio’s proposal and suggest getting pizza from your favourite place around the corner. You announce you are having a shower and you’ve never heard Gio speak quicker on the phone than in that moment.

After some fun activities in the shower, you both retreat to the couch where you wait for the pizza. The doorbell rings through the apartment and you jump up with excitement, with Gio laughing and shaking her head. Oh how I’m going to miss her, Gio thinks to herself. She gets pulled out of her thoughts by a kiss on her cheek and a plate put in her lap. She quietly thanks you and busies herself by eating as many pieces of pizza her stomach allows her. You move the pizza box to the kitchen to come back to find Gio in that same position again, lost in her thoughts. You put yourself in her lap and cupped both cheeks.

“What’s going on baby?”

“I have some news and I don’t know how to tell you without crying”

“It’s okay baby, you’re allowed to cry”

One tear escapes Gio’s eyes then a waterfall appeared down her cheeks. You held her close and tight and she did the same to you. You moved to a more comfortable position where Gio was lying on top of you, her head on your stomach, saturating your tee shirt with tears but you didn’t care. You just wanted to know what has gotten your girl so upset, so you could think of some ways to help. You brush your fingers through her hair and her breathing evens out, she’s relaxed now. Gio looks up at you with her red, puffy eyes and sad smile decorating her face.

“Can you tell me what’s got you so upset now my love?” You question, tucking her loose hair behind her ear

“I’m leaving Barca at the end of the season. I’m going to Arsenal”

You take a few seconds to digest what Gio just said but then you break out in a big smile, hugging her tightly.

“This is so great for you baby”

“How do feel about it?” Gio asks you as she sits up slightly, pulling you into her lap.

“I think it’s going to be great for you babe. I just know Leah and Beth will look after you”

You talk about everything about London and Gio doesn’t appear to be upset about it now.

It’s been four long months without seeing your love and you’ve finally got time to surprise her. You picked up a little knock to your shoulder so the Barca medical team suggest 2 weeks to heal. After long discussions about recovery and the healing process with the head of medical, they let you have 2 weeks personal leave. You got back from training and dumped your kit bag at the door. You kick off your trainers and sprinted upstairs to immediately book a flight to London. You found a flight leaving in 5 hours, so you quickly text your teammates to tell them you won’t be in the country and race around to find your passport and pack your bag. In the middle of all the chaos, you almost forgot your daily call with Gio. You both talk about your day when you hear Gio sniffle, meaning she’s about to cry or has just cried.

“What’s wrong G?”

“I miss you” Gio pouted.

“It’s only temporary mi amor”

You two eventually hang up, with your lame lie of you having a team bonding lunch you need to get ready for. Gio reluctanty let’s you go and you promise to call her later. You check the time and you are set to leave in 30 minutes. You shove more random clothes, that consisted of both yours and Gio’s in a suitcase before having a quick shower and setting off.

You arrive in London and you feel like you can breath again. You whistle down a taxi and give them Gio’s address. The whole time you’re bouncing your leg and picking at the skin around your nails. You are nervous and you don’t know why. You’re about to spend 2 weeks with your girl and watch her play with her new team. A little while later, the taxi pulls up to the apartment complex and you thank the driver as he got you suitcase out of the trunk. You quickly scroll through yours and Gio’s texts to find the apartment number. As soon as you find it, you race to the elevator and put in the floor number. You practically run out of the elevator and run down the hall to apartment 347.

You take a moment to yourself before wiping the palms on your sweats and knocking on the door. You hear that accent you’ve missed so dearly yell out ‘I’ll be a minute!’. You cover the peep hole and the wooden door swings open to reveal your Brazilian beauty wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties. You both look at each other like it was the first time all over again until Gio hugs you tightly. You wince slightly due to your shoulder and Gio immediately apologises.

“What are you waiting for? Kiss me”

Gio rolled her eyes before kissing you passionately. Eventually, you both pulled away and Gio wheeled your suitcase inside. You both went straight into her bedroom and cuddled. A few hours later, you decided to tell Gio your news. You looked up at her and the golden light from the sunset shone perfectly on Gio’s features, making you fall in love with her all over again.

“I have some news” You say sitting up slightly.

“I’m all ears”

“I’m leaving Barca at the end of the season” This causes Gio to sit up too.

“Where are you going to play?”

“Arsenal”

“You’re kidding?” You shake your head and Gio leaps up from the bed and starts celebrating.

“I’m so happy for you beautiful” Gio jumps on the bed and kisses you, but both of you smiling so it’s short lived.

“I told you it was only temporary”

“I love you mi amor”

“I love you more baby"