#back pack for his apple sauce

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #7

CH7. Spice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Eddie held the door open for you as you approached the trailer, hand waving you in as he smiled, shy. 

The trailer was tidier than you’d ever seen it before, a valiant effort made in anticipation for your arrival. The usual piles of washed laundry were moved from the dining booth bench, the ashtrays moved from the living room coffee tables. The trailer was unusually quiet, smelling like mountain cedar, if the can of air freshener on Wayne’s armchair was anything to go by. 

You did your usual, despite the way you felt like you were there for the first time. For a first date. But you toed off your shoes by the door and lingered in the kitchen, fingers twisting together as you wondered what came next. This? This part was new, this was different. 

Eddie smiled shyly as he followed behind, hands skimming your shoulders as he squeezed past you and the counter, opening the fridge. The white-yellow glow filled the room, clashing with the pink sunset that came in from the living room blinds. 

“Okay, what are you feelin’?” Eddie said into the refrigerator, his fingers tapping on the door. “We got stuff for omelettes, I could do pasta, oh, hey, I make a mean gnocchi.” Eddie emerged with a quart of pesto, wiggling one of the diners' plastic containers at you. 

You smiled, shrugging easily because you’d be happy with some toast if it meant Eddie kept looking at you like that. You leaned against the dining table edge, lips pressed together and trying your hardest to keep it together. Eddie looked too pretty in the sunlight, that peachy pink golden flow, the last rays turning his brown eyes the colour of caramel as he looked at you. 

“I don’t mind,” you told him softly, “anything you make will be good.”

Eddie grinned, bashful, cheeks pink and he held his hand out to you, coaxing you into holding onto his fingers so he could tug you forward. You were supposed to look in the fridge too, check out the mountains of fresh ingredients he liked to pack into it, the tubs of homemade sauces and pickled veg. But instead, you stumbled into the boy, socked feet touching his boots, knees bumping. 

It was awkward in an innocent way, your smile shy and matching Eddie’s, his faltering a little when he realised how close you were. His hand held yours a little tighter and when he realised you weren’t moving away, well shit, he didn’t bother to either. His fingers twisted in yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles and he swallowed hard as he looked down at you. 

“Uh, we could, uh, I could make some lasagna. Or, or a stir fry?” Eddie stumbled over his words, brows furrowed in concentration as he studied each part of your face. The line of your nose, the fan of your lashes, the curve of your lip. “If you want. I don’t, I don’t mind cookin’ whatever.”

You felt bolder than ever when you let your hand slip from Eddie’s and climb up his forearm, finger wrapping around the cords of muscle there, thumb rubbing at the sensitive skin on the inside crook of his elbow. It made the boy still, lips parting in surprise. It felt nice to be this close, chests almost touching, Eddie’s hand falling to hold your waist instead, fingertips pushed to the soft cotton of your sundress. 

“I’m not, I’m not really all that hungry, right now,” you told him softly. You were nervous, wondering if this was supposed to happen this way. If this was supposed to happen this soon. But you couldn’t bring yourself to step away. 

The refrigerator door was still open. 

Eddie nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, sure. No, same. We can eat later, if you want.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob, felt his fingers squeeze a little tighter at the plush of your hips. “How’s your head feelin’?”

You smiled at his concern and met his gaze. This much eye contact wasn’t all that surprising but the fact you hadn’t been interrupted yet by someone yelling about hot dog bugs or asking where the napkin refills were was. “It’s fine,” you promised him. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

A lie, it was a little tender. But definitely no concussion. You’d iced it when you’d gotten home but for a shorter time than you should’ve, too preoccupied with the idea of jumping into a warm shower and shaving every inch of your leg in preparation for your date. If anything, the idea of spending time alone with Eddie was what had your head spinning. 

“Good,” Eddie nodded and you could see him thinking, too much, before he sucked in a quiet breath and lifted a hand to cup the back of your neck. His hand was big enough that it curled all the way round, his thumb tucked into the space under your ear, right along your jaw. You wondered if he could feel your pulse - he probably could. You wondered if he could feel that way it was fucking racing. “Doesn’t hurt, if I do this?”

You were scared to move, worried if you shook your head it would break the spell, scared that Eddie would stop touching you. So you whispered instead, one word on a shaky breath that made Eddie’s eyes get a little wider. “No.”

Eddie pushed his thumb to your jaw a little firmer, suddenly not as worried about touching you, holding you now like you wouldn’t shatter underneath him. “So this is okay?” He whispered back and oh my god, it was more than okay, it was exactly what you wanted and you were still in the middle of his kitchen with the refrigerator light casting over your socks, your shins. 

You licked your lips and gave a small nod, eyes trained on his mouth and you heard the boy suck in a breath. “Yeah, it’s okay.” You swallowed, throat bobbing and Eddie felt it under his hand, the movement making him dizzy. “More than okay.”

His thumb moved up, skimming over the apple of your cheek, fingers fanning out over the side of your neck until they were pushing into your hairline and pulling goosebumps from your skin. You didn’t realise you were both walking you backwards until your hips hit the counter. It was a soft bump, everything Eddie did was gentle and his eyes were watching yours the entire time, searching for any hesitation. 

It’d been a while since he’d been in a situation like this, but he was pretty fucking positive there was none there. 

You confirmed his thoughts by clinging to the front of his shirt, fingertips tugging the material so he’d take the hint and move closer, meeting his chest with yours and it was as much of a first move as you could manage. Shyness still swallowed you, your heart beating embarrassingly fast and all you wanted to do was push up onto your toes and press your lips to Eddie’s but if he rejected you now - for whatever reason - you think you’d have to quit your job and move back to Chicago. 

Your back was against the worktop edge, softened only by the way Eddie let his other hand cup your hip and your chest was against his, chin tilted up to look at him, eyes half lidded and matching his own. You could see every freckle, the fan of his lashes, a tiny silver scar on the left corner of his bottom lip that you’d never noticed before. You wondered if he was close enough to feel the heat from your face, the way your bones must’ve been rattling from the thunder of your heartbeat. 

It was delicious, the way he crowded you, thumb pushing into your cheek so you’d tilt your head up for him, noses almost brushing now, just waiting for something to give. It had been two months of working alongside Eddie Munson, two months of being his friend, learning how he worked, what each of his smiles meant, how lucky you were to receive one. 

Two months of wondering how much longer it would take until he would kiss you. 

He licked his bottom lip, tongue peeking out just slightly, eyes studying every move you made, so hesitate, so unsure, as if the way you were pressing yourself against him wasn’t enough of a clue. “We could, uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, nervous. His hand was squeezing the dough of your hip over your dress, the soft material bunching in his palm. “We could watch a movie, if you wanted.”

He said it so distractedly that you were sure the boy didn’t actually know what he was asking. Eddie’s pupils were blown wide, eyes dark, a familiar sight except there wasn’t the haze of smoke between you both now. You smiled, nervous and shy and giddy and brave all at once. 

“I don’t wanna watch a movie, Eddie,” you breathed and out and the boy folded, the boy melted like butter under the hot sun and you saw his brows draw together, his tense shoulders fall in relief and then he was nodding, eyes on your mouth and moving closer and closer—

“Oh, thank fuck,” he sighed in return, pushing into you in a rush, his lips crashing to yours before he even finished talking. 

 It felt like kismet, that first kiss. It felt like it was supposed to happen, because after your heart soared and your stomach somersaulted, Eddie moved his head one way and tilted yours the other, drawing him closer still with your fingers hooked into the collar of his T-shirt. He made the softest noise, nose pushed to your cheek, his thumb dragging over the corner of your mouth and when you gasped for him, his tongue touched your bottom lip, a silent question. 

More?

You parted your lips for him, kiss deepening, Eddie’s hand on your waist gripping you tighter as your tongue licked over his and you couldn’t remember when kissing someone felt like this. It felt like a summer heatwave, like someone taking care of you, it felt like a bowl of the most perfect food pushed in front of you, like cracking your fucking head off a table and watching the world spin. 

There wasn’t any noise in the trailer except for the hum of the still open fridge door and the soft, breathy sounds from both of you. A sigh, a gasp, a muted groan. It was easy to get caught up in it, no one to interrupt, a whole evening, just for you two. It was a long time coming, a simmering pot, finally bubbling over and when you let out a little moan when Eddie’s hand trailed from your jaw down to your neck, fingers splayed over your throat, the boy pulled back to pant heavily and swear. 

Any shyness you’d ever felt was gone with the way he was looking at you, curls falling across flushed cheeks, lips swollen and probably a matching yours. You reached for him, desperate, your hands tangling into his hair as you tried not to pout. “Don’t stop. Please, Eddie,” you whispered and your voice cracked with need and god, it made Eddie’s eyes stutter shut, jaw dropping before tensing. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he was whispering, moving back to you with an eagerness that was almost overwhelming. 

You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he ducked just slightly and you squeaked when you felt his palms, warm and calloused and so fucking big, wrap around the backs of your thighs. He hauled you up, setting you on the edge of the kitchen counter so you were at his height and both of you ignored the angry squeal of the coffee container, the bread bin and mug stand as your body pushed them out of the way. A new pace was set now and Eddie’s mouth was back on yours before you could ask. 

A desperate, messy kind of kiss, deep and longing and all tongues and teeth. The boy nipped at your bottom lip, groaned when you whined and you didn’t even think twice about bringing your legs up to his hips, caging him in and pulling him against you until you felt the scratch of denim again the cotton of your underwear. 

It should’ve been too much too fast, it should’ve. 

But it wasn’t. 

“This okay?” Eddie asked you breathlessly, words gasped between kisses. He pulled back just slightly, hands cupping your hot cheeks, thumbs soothing over the apples of them. His forehead pressed against yours, a grounding touch. “We don’t have to— just tell me if you wanna stop, yeah?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut because you were already pulling him back to you and Eddie followed willingly, one hand dropping to your knee, coasting upupup until he was squeezing at the dough of your thigh and groaning into your open mouth. You felt like a couple of teenagers, making out somewhere you weren’t supposed to, getting felt up by your crush in his parents kitchen. It made you dizzy, it made you wet, embarrassingly so. A dirty, hot throb that wrecked your body and lit up, electric, every time Eddie touched you somewhere new. 

He didn’t go any higher, his hand stayed there, respectful as he could be when you were kissing him like you didn’t ever want to stop. A few inches below the hem of your dress, practically a gentleman, but his tongue was doing wonderful things against yours and when you rocked yourself a little, using your arms around his neck to press yourself against him, Eddie’s own hips canted forward and he moaned.  

It made it easier to drop his other hand from your neck, fingertips skimming just along the curve of your breast before he was dripping your waist and pulling you into him. It wasn’t the best place to be grinding against each other, not when the sofa and his bed were both so close by. But the height of the counter made for the perfect kind of friction and it was dizzying being so close, to be so wrapped up in Eddie. He smelled the same, like lemongrass and smoke and a little bit of cologne. 

And when you gripped his curls a little tighter than before and tugged, Eddie fucking whined into your open mouth, barely kissing, just panting into each other's lips and his gentlemanly touch on you wavered. His hand skirted up, fingers sliding under the hem of your red dress and when they skimmed over the elastic edge of your underwear, he was swearing, eyes squeezing shut tighter and raking his blunt nails back down your thigh.

You shuddered, ripping away from Eddie’s lips to suck in a breath but the boy only moved to your neck and you keened at the touch, opened mouth kisses along the line of your throat, his tongue peeking out to lick across your skin, teeth grazing and fiu let him, head thrown back until the already tender spot hir against the kitchen cabinets. 

It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. 

Not when Eddie was dragging his fingers across the neckline of your dress, pushing your sleeve out of the way to expose your shoulders, kissing and sucking at the crook of your neck, mouthing his way down your chest, no bra straps to get in his way. You sighed, the sound coming out with the letters of his name, a noise that made him groan aloud and fuse his lips back to yours, your fingers splayed out over his jaw so you could keep him there. 

You were on fire. It was hotter than being in the kitchen. The simmering pot was spilling over now, the flames were licking higher and the lid of it was crashing to the floor, jolting you back to reality. 

You pulled back, sucking in air, eyes unfocused and the world was spinning too fast and god you just needed to—   

“We should slow down,” Eddie gasped, sounding as wrecked as you felt. His hands were still on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, two hands smoothing up and down your thighs. “Fuck, you’re— that was—”

“Yeah,” you agreed and god you sounded drunk. “I know.”

You tried to diffuse the heat, tried to turn down the flame so everything went back down to a simmer, smiling softly as if the kitchen was on metaphorical fire and Eddie wasn’t harder than he’d ever been in his life. “Umm, do you, d’you wanna eat now?”

Eddie laughed into your neck, cheeks flushed rosy pink and he was hot all over, breathless and the happiest he’d been in a long time. He hummed, nodding before he pulled back, dotting a kiss to your lips, much more chaste than before. He couldn’t help himself, placed another on your cheek, your jaw, the slope of you nose too. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned. “How does a grilled cheese sound?”

You laughed too, nodding, because you didn’t think you’d be able to focus on chopping up ingredients or kneading out a dough right now either. “You gonna make it real fancy for me?” 

Eddie beamed, brows scrunched together in disbelief, like he was shocked you had to even ask. “What? Sweetheart, please,” he pushed one last kiss to your lips, grimaced at the open fridge door and kicked it shut witn his foot. “S’gonna be the fanciest grilled cheese you’ve ever had.”

—————

“You have a hickey,” Robin poked at your neck, stating the news very matter of factly as she leaned in between the drivers seat and yours. 

You batted at her hand, eyes wide, cheeks hot as you leaned back to glare at her. “What? No I don’t.”

Steve snorted and pulled into the diner parking lot, joining Eddie’s van and the other few cars that were waiting for a late breakfast. “Wow, that sounded so believable,” he deadpanned. “Enjoy your hot date with the chef last night?”

The day after your dinner with Eddie only egged on your good mood. A bright day, with blue skies and warm air, the kind of Sunday morning that was straight out of a photograph, big white clouds, sunflower fields in the distance, the smell of coffee and waffles coming from the diner doors. 

Eddie had dropped you back at your apartment late, later then he should’ve when he was starting work at six am the next day but you’d stayed to eat grilled cheeses on the sofa with him, pretending to watch some B-roll horror movie as you talked about everything and nothing, legs draped over his lap. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to say but your words got tangled in a grin and they came out too happy, making Steve’s eyes roll as he climbed out of the car. 

“You’re a fuckin’ awful liar,” he told you over the roof and Robin snorted in agreement, bending down to peer at her reflection in Steve’s window. She snapped her gum, baby pink against rose coloured lip balm and flipped Steve off when he popped her bubble. “And we’re all late, ‘cause someone couldn’t find their keys, c’mon.”

It felt like a proper friendship, the way you walked around the side of the diner with Steve and Robin, jostling each other and laughing when they took it too far, the girl shrieking when Steve pulled her into a headlock, encouraging you with a grin to give her a noogie. And the laughter bled into the kitchen when you all stumbled into the fire exit door reserved for staff, smoke breaks and crying sessions in the alleyway. But the laughter stopped when you caught sight of Eddie at his station, whisking a bowl of egg yolks and butter, exactly like you expected him to be at eleven am on a sunday. 

You didn’t expect the girl, though. Or recognise her.

Strawberry blonde and petite, her uniform shorter than yours, her elbows leaning on Eddie’s station as she beamed up at him. She was pretty. Really pretty.

She turned at the noise of the three of you coming into the kitchen, laughter still on Steve’s lips, a faux argument brewing between him and Robin as they tailed off towards the lockers. You stayed standing, a little shocked. You weren’t sure why, you knew there was staff you hadn’t met before, seasonal members of the diner who split their time between Jim’s and other jobs. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. 

She was just— standing too close to the boy you spent the night making out with. 

Eddie had put down the bowl and whisk, cleaned his hands on the front of his apron and smiled at you,  his face lighting up at the sight, a genuine slice of joy in what was about to be an awkward moment. He said your name, almost shy, looking like he didn’t know how to greet you. 

“This is, uh, this is—” he gestured to the girl, trailing off when she bounced over to you, hand extended. 

“I’m Chrissy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she gushed. “You’re new, right?”

“Uh, kinda,” you laughed a little weakly. You didn’t feel new anymore. You felt like you belonged. You told her your name, even though she’d already heard Eddie say it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

No one else really knew what to say then and your plans to greet Eddie with a kiss seemed ruined. The boy looked at you as if he were thinking the same, his smile lopsided and sweet. But he dished the eggs into a pot and started scrambling them, brushing away a stray curl with the back of his hand and he asked you, “have you had breakfast?”

You rolled your eyes, affection lingering there and you relaxed a little, knowing this routine, loving this routine. You grabbed your apron from the hook, tying it round your waist as you brushed past him, a hand skimming his lower back, the closest thing you could do to a greeting. 

Chrissy tracked the movement with curious eyes. 

“Not yet,” you told him softly and you ached to perch yourself on the stool by his station - your stool - but Chrissy had already walked back over and claimed it. “You gonna tell me off?”

You said it shyly, a hint of flirt there, cheeks warm and smile soft as you gazed up at the boy. Eddie responded in kind, the tips of his ears turning pink and he tried to scowl at you, brows pinching together but he grinned like he couldn’t help it. “I would, if I knew it would work,” he smiled down at you, head tilted to the side all lazy. “You want some eggs? Or I could make you some pancakes?”

And before you could tell him that eggs were perfectly fine, Chrissy’s voice interrupted, she was pushing herself onto the table, leaning on her hands, cheeks coloured with a pretty pink blush and squished together. “Don’t tell me I leave for the summer and you’ve got another favourite waitress already,” she pouted, lips shiny and glassy and pink. “I thought I was your number one, Ed.”

Her words made you feel too warm. That rolling heat that creeped across your chest, your neck, your face. An awfully uncomfortable sensation, anxious, unsettled. You tried to laugh when she did, but the sound came out weak, stilted. Chrissy was looking at Eddie, confident, playful, so sure of herself. 

She looked at him like she really knew him, like there was an inside joke that you didn’t know about. 

You backed away, ignoring how Eddie’s hand tried to catch yours. “Uh, I’m actually not that hungry,” you smiled but it wavered. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “Thanks though. I’ll, um, I’ll catch up with you later. It was nice meeting you, Chrissy,” you nodded at her, hoping she didn’t see your glassy eyes before you turned and left them in the kitchen. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #linecook!eddie

[belphies-cowgirl]

obey me headcanons pt. 4

word count: 5K+ (oops went a little overboard, hope this doesn't flop though)

Lucifer

he has his records organized alphabetically (Satan & Belphie rearrange them at least once a month) 

he once stood in the kitchen at 3 am cutting up fruits and veggies into pretty designs for his brothers to eat for breakfast (even princess's poison apples in the shape of cats for Satan) but they all assumed you made them and you just agreed while half asleep at the table.

Mammon 

keeps all the notes you take for him in class in a folder hidden in the back of his closet (he never bothered to study half of them) 

shoves hell-sauce-flavored ramen cups under his couch when he doesn't feel like throwing them away. you found them all one time and he was so embarrassed and stuttering so much you thought he was gonna pass out. 

Levi 

dusts his figurines twice a week and has to have his manga lined up neatly in numerical order by series (he WILL hover while you put back one of his mangas that you borrowed)

once fainted when you came into his room cosplaying as one of his favorite characters. poor baby needed a few days to recover after that. but you looked so perfect wearing it and it made his heart explode on sight.

he is crazy talented at digital art, it's a secret hobby of his. you just assume he orders digital prints of your favorite characters off akuzon for you. but he's too shy and embarrassed to tell you he's the one who made them. he thinks you'll reject them if you find out. but it's just another way he shows his love for you, even if you don't know about it. 

Satan 

has cat hair all over his room (obviously) and used-up lint rollers under his bed. he wears a sweater and acts like no one can see all that cat hair.

has specific bookmarks for each genre, but he'll replace some of them with any bookmarks you make/give him. his favorite is the cat bookmark with a bell tied at the end of the string you got him for his birthday (sometimes he shakes the book to hear it jingle)

Asmo 

signs his name in cursive with a little heart after the "o"

sometimes he rubs his nose against yours and then walks away. don't question why, he doesn't need a reason to show you his undying love and affection.

he once shrieked when he found out Beel had accidentally eaten one of his bath bombs. that must explain why Beel sneezed glitter in the common room later that night. 

Beel 

keeps the receipts from all of the places you've both eaten at together.

loves it when you bring home leftover jam/sauce packets for him (he loves the mini-apocalyptic apple ones) 

loves it when you pack extra snacks into his duffle before Fangol games. he'll sit on a bench in the locker room after a game and happily munch on them while blushing. you're so sweet for always doing that, he'll reward you with forehead kisses when he gets back to the HoL.

Belphie 

will surprisingly spend time reorganizing his bed in the attic because he stole more of your plushies and has to make room for them (he picks one to curl up with each week) he refuses to give them back but will pout and whine when you say you want them back. if you try to take one back while he's napping his tail will reach out for it and hide it under the covers.

is a little shit (a brat and a menace but anyways <3) he'll whine when you try to get up from under the covers or if you move too much in your sleep. he'll wrap his tail around your leg or waist to keep you from moving. you went to stand up one time and fell forward because his tail was wrapped tightly around your ankle. he glared at you, scoffed, then rolled over, mumbling about how you're always so noisy and clumsy. 

Diavolo 

used to feed the Little D's. Barbatos found out about it because they kept leaving crumbs behind, and later scolded Diavolo and the Little D's. 

keeps a little figurine you got him as a good luck charm on his desk while he does paperwork. sometimes it distracts him because he'll glance at it and start smiling like an idiot just thinking about you, he always shoots you a text afterward.

Barbatos

listens to metal/rock and I refuse to believe otherwise.

sometimes lets the Little D's listen to music while they attend to their daily duties. they'll end up singing and dancing, but one glance from him and they get back to work immediately. 

Simeon 

leaves cute little notes in your locker or slips them into your textbooks/notebooks for you to find later in class. "good luck on your exam today! :)" or if he's feeling romantic, "you look even more ethereal than usual today <3" he has so much romantic rizz and is completely oblivious about it most of the time. like yeah, you totally just swooned and blushed for no reason.

has really good memory. he'll remember almost anything you say or do, but won't remember anything when it comes to technology. he'll be sitting next to you and randomly bring up the most specific thing that you did two months ago on a Friday. yet he can't remember how to check his call log or change a contact picture (he tries to change yours a lot because he just can't decide which picture to use, they're all so perfect)

Solomon 

drinks tea and coffee out of flasks and beakers sometimes because he's too lazy to wash a few mugs. 

he’s basically “malewife” material, but he does NOT need to be in the kitchen. there's a reason why you carry a mini container of antacids with you. he'll lowkey pout when he notices you keep making excuses for not eating his food. come on, one bite won't hurt, he put so much love into that oozing sandwich that just moved a little bit on the plate.

lets you doodle on his notes during class (he teases you about it every time) he writes around the doodles and will cut them out once he no longer needs the notes. he uses them as bookmarks or keeps them in his little memento box. he's the type to keep movie tickets and polaroids with the date written on the back. he kept a polaroid of you making a surprised face when you realized he was taking a picture of you sitting on his bed wearing a facemask and snacking while scrolling on your D.D.D. 

Luke 

keeps a mini first-aid kit in his backpack. did you get a papercut? he's got a bandaid on standby.

he’ll sometimes leave a sweet treat in your locker for you to eat during lunch (in a tupperware container in case you wanna save it for later) he's so precious and puts so much love into his baking.

hides frosting tubes in his nightstand drawer. will throw them all away in a random trashcan at RAD when he's finished with them. can't have Simeon questioning the sudden pile of frosting tubes in the trashcan, which are coincidentally Luke's favorite flavors.

✄ ——————————————————————

feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3

please do not use my work as your own! 

m.list

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me x reader #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me fluff #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #levi x reader #asmo x reader #satan x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #barbatos x reader #diavolo x reader #beel x reader

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

untitled

I just had this vivid scene play out in my brain. Dropped to my knees in a local chain grocery store, had to pretend I was grabbin the bootleg brand chips from the bottom shelf. I'm definitely normal about this. Yea, I'm so abso-fucking-lutely normal about this.

So what if I'm ovulatin'? It ain't me sittin' here clenching my fuckin' thighs, no ma'am, nu-uh. Even my predictive text talks like Daryl now- okay, I may have a tiny little problem. I hope I never, never ever get the chance to look Norman Reedus in the eye.

4.5k words. VERY VERY NSFW. Just sweet and a little rough monkey lovin' where Daryl enjoys something for the simple sake of it feeling good. A little undercooked plot-wise but the smut has been grilled to a perfect medium-rare, slightly juicy, collard greens and mashed potatoes on the side with the mushroom sauce. Two packs of cigarettes later (he owes my lungs an apology),

Imagine you and Daryl going out on a - run, scouting mission, whatever - and hunkering down in a secure cabin for the night. It's summer, it's hot and stuffy inside, but luckily, the cabin has running water, even if it's ice-cold. So you wash up and apply some of the essential-oils-homemade-perfume-thing that someone at the community made for you.

You change into your PJs and come downstairs to amuse yourself til the sun sets completely.

He's smoking next to a crack in the boarded up windows and you, being on friendly terms, banter a bit and bum a cigarette off him. He doesn't mind when you use one of his knees to sit down. As you two joke, you ruffle his hair slightly, not missing the way his eyes narrow in pleasure.

That sparks a conversation about letting oneself to feel good things.

You say that it's different for women because they get judged for wanting to experience pleasure just for the sake of it and Daryl says he always thought it to be stupid. You say that he's not exactly the resident expert on that, which briefly makes his natural competitiveness overshadow his shyness and self-loathing.

Petulantly, he places your hand back in his hair and stresses the purring growl of pleasure as your scratch his scalp and let his moist tresses glide through tour fingers.

You laugh and say you're gonna braid his hair one day, in jest, and he growls back "yer pushin' yer luck, pretty girl," but his smile is hidden rather badly.

In revenge, you stomp out the cigarette and straddle his lap fully, attacking his head with a massage worthy of a spa parlour professional.

He grips your waist as his head hangs forward, a low rumble coming from his mouth as his nose comes that much closer to your neck.

Daryl takes a deep breath, and sensing you unbothered by it, says "ya smell good. like apple pie."

"Oh," he doesn't miss the slight hitch in your breath, "'member when I fixed up the 'lectric in number twelve? they paid me in some essential oil perfume they made. feels nice to... not smell death all day, every day. 's a nice change."

He nods, agreeing, remembering your strong feelings about doing some things just because they feel good. Not because it's useful or to survive, but just for a surge of happy hormones in your bloodstream.

Despite his best efforts to distract his body, one wiggle from you is all it takes for his excitement to be obvious. He freezes, but you adjust simply, politely, keeping your weight off his boner. Confused by your chill attitude, he lifts his head, forcing you to brush all of his hair out of his face.

Daryl feels vulnerable and exposed.

Your eyes slide down to his lips, once, twice, but you - just as stubborn as him - pick them back up. As he parts them to run the tip of his tongue over them in hopes of finding something to say, he notices it fully.

He notices the flush of your skin. His hands move on your waist, provoking another blink-and-youll-miss-it twitch of your fingertips and toes.

Gathering his ducks in a row, Daryl leans into you - your neck, not your lips, not yet - softly running the tip of his nose along your collarbone and up to your jaw.

"That feel good?" Voice gravelly low, it sends reverb through your chest.

"Yeah," you breathe quietly, your fingers in his hair shaking slightly. You lean more into him and that is all the encouragement he needs for the time being.

"Wanna make ya feel good," he admits, dry lips and scratchy stubble gliding along the length of your jaw. His breath is hot on the shell of your ear. "Can I do that, suga'-pie?"

"Mhm," you respond, his cheek now against yours - you rub into him gently, like a cat. The affectionate headbutt makes him chuckle quietly in his throat.

He continues nosing around your neck, feeling the muscles in your back and your thighs unclench one by one. You're practically on top of him, almost right there, over the throbbing erection in his pants, and he feels your control slip away bit by bit.

The flimsy wooden chair you two are sitting on creaks; Daryl doesn't place much trust in it. Planting his feet wide, securing his position, he inadvertently lands your cunt right over his cock. Both of you shudder and hiss at the contact.

The damn chair creaks again.

He curses under his breath, hands sliding down to your ass, hoisting you up and urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he stands up, sending the raggedy chair clattering to the floor.

Your breath catches in your throat, your hands grab at his shoulders, kneading into the meat there. A few steps later, both of you land on the couch heavily; it creaks, too, but your legs have room and your body can finally relax against Daryl as you stabilise yourself on the surface.

He's panting, open-mouthed, looking at you with those stormy blue eyes, searching for something in your earnest, open face.

The corners of your mouth tug up.

He runs his palm over your back, settling on your nape to pull you into him. Your mouths connect; the kiss is slow and unhurried as you take the time to explore each other's mouths. There is no need to rush, no risk of being caught or ambushed; it really feels good. Following someone's advice for once, Daryl lets himself become utterly lost in the sweet kiss.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging softly every now and then, tipping the cup of him ever-so-slightly for short groans to spill into the kiss. Sometimes, you let your hands traverse the hills of his shoulders, the plains of his chest, fingertips poking around the collar of it.

It's overstimulating but at the same time, it's not enough. To give you a hint, Daryl timidly strokes the single bare inch of skin between your shirt and your pants, feeling the goosebumps even through the thick, calloused skin of his working hands.

The way your hips respond: restless and fluid, pressing into him just that much closer, prompts him to slide his hands further under your shirt, mapping the bony ridges of your spine. The skin along it is sensitive on any mammal, that much he knows, so he expects the twitch, expects the breathy moan leaving your lips; he revels in it, the kiss growing humid and sloppy.

Your hands slip into his shirt, finally, your warm palms on his hot skin. He's burning up inside out and you're- you're diligently adding fuel and accelerant to the fire. Blunt nails scratching over his uneven skin, you snag his bottom lip on your teeth as moisture gathers in the corners of your mouths.

The need for oxygen is strong.

Daryl inhales deep as he rests his forehead against yours.

Both of you are panting. Necking like horny teenagers, not a care in the world, no worry for tomorrow; it's near impossible to focus on anything else but the pulsating need at the spots where your bodies are pressed together.

It's all too much but neither of you want it to stop.

"Holy shit," your awed mumble causes Daryl to smirk lightly; as you shift in place, he swears he can smell how wet you are. His jeans must've gotten ruined by now, if not by you then by the weeping of his own cock.

It feels almost regretful to proceed. This exact feeling, if someone could figure out how to bottle it, would have people sellin' their soul for it, Daryl is damn sure.

It's the moment before lightning spears open the stuffy air of a muggy, stormy day. The millisecond before a heavily pregnant cloud gives birth to a solid wall of ice-cold rain; the blink of skies as they generously cool the overheated earth, filling up its parched cracks with invigorating liquid.

"Fuck," Daryl groans, tossing his head back onto the backrest of the couch, watching you through lidded eyes, "whatchu doin' to me, girl?"

You offer him a shaky, sheepish grin before your lust takes over your senses, pushing you back up to him. Your mouth connects with his neck, suckling, licking, nipping at the caramel skin there.

Daryl tastes of cheap soap and clear sweat, that musky scent of gasoline and leather unfurling into notes of pinewood and smoke as you nose deeper; right next to his ear, tickled by his hair, he smells and tastes like the best dessert at the carnival inside the town fair.

A little greasy and drenched in spices. You can't get enough of him. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and lick.

Daryl groans. It's open-mouthed and loud. His hands grab your hips firmly, dragging you over the tent in his pants.

Both of you hiss at the friction.

Your knees wobble as your stance widens in an attempt to cover more surface are, to bring the feeling closer to your clit. There's at least four layers of fabric between your skin and his and it is something that is so sweetly, arduously annoying.

He pushes down again, harder this time, offering another delicious groan that you can't help but swirl in your mouth and recreate. The noise attracts his attention; Daryl watches you, watches your face, the flush on your chest, your heaving breasts. Like many men, he licks his lips utterly unintentionally when his eyes settle on your hard nipples.

Inwardly, you find enough clarity of mind to chuckle. Men and breasts nevel fail to amuse you when placed in close proximity. You push them outwards and his mouth is immediately right there, shirt and all, rolling a stiff nipple gently between his teeth.

The soft, damp cotton adds an edge to it; you feel your underwear slide over your cunt, the fabric absolutely saturated with your arousal.

Daryl's hands knead your ass as he takes in his fill of your breasts.

"That's, fuck," you pant, needing him to know, "that's really fuckin' good."

"Yeah?" He groans wetly before taking in as much of your breast as he can fit in your mouth; there's no finesse to it, just raw, unadulterated need.

"Uh-uh," you nod: his eagerness is what takes the cake.

Daryl tugs your shirt up; up and over your head and fuck knows where it flies, forgotten the moment his lips are back on one nipple, his fingers on the other. He rolls, he bites, he sucks.

Your breasts are wet with spit and sweat.

His breath ghosts over the damp areas, pebbling the tender bud to a state almost frigid.

You moan, loudly, wetly and openly. You gasp, you squirm, anything to quell the restlessness. It's like an army of fire ants trotting their primal, tribal dance under your skin, reducing you to a disoriented mess with a one-track mind. Your fingertips are pale where you hold onto Daryl in a feeble attempt to ground yourself.

He's smirking when he surfaces up. There's spit glistening on his chin, his lips are puffy, the deepest, most delicious shade of maroon. It's obvious the state of your undress and the intensity of your want is echoed by him.

"Feel good?" He has the audacity! to ask.

"Yeah," your response is lackluster in words but the tone and the pleading expression on your face conveys it all: your desire, your desperation.

With you on top of him, the only relief to your aching cunt so far has been provided by his bulge rubbing against your clothed slit. It's not enough, it's not even nearly enough.

Daryl's biceps bulge as he effortlessly lifts you up, "c'mere," placing you back-to-his-chest.

Your legs fall open on your own accord, hanging limply over his muscular thighs. The meat of his cock digs into the cheeks of your ass; you feel it twitch along with you when Daryl's thick palm cups the mound of your pussy in a gesture both tender and possessive.

"Fuckin' shit," his low mumble travels down the shell of your ear, "this all fr'me, sugar?"

"Yes," you breathe out as he slides his middle and ring fingers up and down your slit. There is no hiding it: your cunt had soaked right through your panties and the cotton of your pajama pants.

With some more maneouvering that comes unfairly easy to him (in your opinion), your pants join your t-shirt somewhere in the deepest pits of hell (a far corner of the room). The panties stay on and for that, you're grateful - a little - as the simplest, straightest of touches on the sensitive meat of your cunt feels like clear honey being poured over a-

Daryl taps two fingers at the top of your slit, right where you outer lips part to reveal your swollen clit.

"Fuck!" You yelp.

"So responsive," he mumbles. He sounds fascinated as he spreads his fingers, the rough tips gliding along the skin and the thick meat sliding over the soaked fabric. You quiver and he can't resist running his mouth, "that feel good?" His smirk is a little mocking, a little breathless.

Your resolve hops between strangling Daryl and begging him, the rabbit of your heart leaping in your chest, doing a binky when your lover shows you mercy by moving aside the sticky fabric covering your crotch. It immediately cools and you wince as it touches the hot flesh of your thigh.

Daryl's inhale is sharp, deep and loud as he dips the same two thick fingers inside your slit.

You're swollen and so wet, its practically dripping. Your clit twtiches under his fingers.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales his disbelief, "you like that, huh? This all for me?" The question proves to be rhetoric when the arm that holds you by your waist tightens on you and Daryl grinds his hips up into the small of your back.

The pitch of his voice drops impossibly low, "bet you taste sweet," as he scoops up some of the fluid, fingers snagging on the snug ring of your entrance, before bringing them up to his lips. He noisily sucks your cunt off his fingers, slurping, "fuck yes!"

Your eyes flutter shut as you cunt pitifully clenches around nothing, no doubt making an ever bigger mess between your legs and on his jeans. Your soft whine is an earnest compliment to the man doing his best to clean up your mess.

Daryl repeats the motion several times, scooping up the sticky droplets of your cunt juice, immediately sticking his fingers in his mouth.

You feel a little sad you can't see it, but your imagination supplements that which is lacking. You imagine his brow, furrowed; his eyes, closed; the tight 'o' of his lips around his fingers. Your cunt flexes again, spasming.

Daryl's reward for it is to circle your clit with a featherlight touch of a single finger. His breath is heavy as he reaches lower, same finger sliding to your entrance: not breaching it, just circling, like a predator circles its prey. He must have the patience of a saint.

You, however, do not. Your hips have a mind of their own as they arch into him, your cunt so empty, it practically hurts.

"Tell me whatcha need," Daryl orders, the low of his voice seasoned with a pinch of pride and a pinch of desperation, "tell me, sugar."

"Inside," you keen, out of your mind, "I want you. Inside." There's drool gathering in the corners of your mouth.

Daryl obliges, but not before lubricating the entirety of his thick finger by sliding it over the outside of your cunt, causing another loud keen to fall from your lips.

When he pushes in, you swear you could cry from the sheer relief of finally getting something for your hungry cunt to wrap around.

Experimentally, he drags his finger in and out, slowly, tense as he watches your reaction, before adding in another. To say they're big would be an understatement: long and thick and textured, it's everything your cunt has craved for the past some minutes. Daryl pumps them in and out as you pant through the new sensation, acutely aware of the loud squelches coming from your hole with every plunge.

Your swollen lips and throbbing walls attempt to keep him hostage with every pull.

Daryl curses, something completely unintelligible, his rough voice completely lost to lust. "Gonna cum for me, eh?" He breathes as the contractions of your cunt become quicker, more rhythmic.

Your neglected clit pulses, your nipples are stiff as rocks, your breathing is uneven and shallow. You couldn't find your voice even if you tried; you don't try at all, letting your body do the talking. You fuck back onto his fingers to the best of your limited ability to move as short, loud, primal noises choke their way up your throat.

The throb of his cock against the small of your back is what sends you over the edge.

Daryl's panting, whimpering himself at the unabashed state of your being; you don't think he realises it, even, his eyes set on your cunt gripping onto his fingers.

When it clenches for one last time, you arch, you paint the walls of the room with curses and whimpers that would make even a prostitute blush as more sweet slick drips out your spasming hole and onto his fingers. Your legs tremble as your entire body goes limp in Daryl's hold.

Soft lips rest on the crown of your head, hot, uneven puffs of air frizz your damp hair.

As your brain does a factory reset, you become hyperaware of the hard, thick flesh pressing into you; a stark realization comes over your being, washing your body in a new layer of shivers. Your cunt still tingles, still aches for more.

"Daryl," you mumble, feeling him go stiff and hot, his name like the sweetest honey on your lips, "I want you inside me."

He shudders, he pants, his cock twitches pitifully once again in his pants. The tight denim had provided some relief, enough to focus on you, enough to stretch the time a little bit more. But now, with your body warm and lax and fucked out of your skull, how could he resist?

He didn't want to resist. He wanted to feel good.

In your dazed state, it was easy for him to pick you up, bridal-style, and carry you towards the singular bedroom in the cabin. He grinned at the clumsy way you immediately reached out to him, tangling your fingers in his hair, placing sloppy kisses on the nearest inches of skin you could reach.

The whine you let out when dropped onto the cool comforter?

Daryl's cock twitched demandingly.

The man stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the view: you, blinking up at him, breasts moving with each shallow breath, feet on the comforer and legs bent at the knee, a hint of flushed, swollen pussy peeking out from the crooked gusset of your underwear.

This may not be heaven but it was as close to it as he'll ever get.

The buckle of his belt clinked, denim shuffled as it was left somewhere behind him- Daryl wasted no time dropping to his knees, using two strong hands to bring your cunt up and into his face. The force of his inhale made your sensitive pussy quiver, it was something that made him smile against the fabric of your panties as moved it aside once more - this time with his teeth.

"Oh, fuck!" You yelped as the broad, wide, flat expanse of Daryl's tongue licked messily up your cunt, hole-to-clit.

"Mmm," he groaned, "fuckin' candy apple pussy," taking another taste. And then another, and another until your skin was raw from the stubble of his beard and you were left in a shaking, whimpering, wet mess of a human. His face was drenched. "Messy girl," he chided in a soft mock as your cunt provided him with another gush of arousal, "ya like bein' messy for me, don't cha?"

"Uh-uh," you arched, your usually concise vernacular reduced to whimpers, groans and two-syllable words that barely made any sense to your own ears, much less anyone else's.

Daryl was like a wild animal, lapping up the liquid, uncaring of the mess he made of you and of his own face.

"Please," you fought with your tongue and finally, finally won, "I wanna- uhh," well, maybe not quite.

Momentarily, he withdrew, wiping the side of his face on the inside of your thigh, "you want what? Tell me."

In your state, he could have touched you anywhere and it would have reduced you to a mindless, blabbering mess. So you settled on the next best thing. Your hand, the one that was in his hair, tugged him up - or tried to.

Daryl's responding growl, the shift of his shoulders, the absence of a single hand on your thigh - you knew the tug had him palming himself through his boxers. Another, purposeful tug was given, another growl followed as he stood up.

You weakly pushed yourself up higher on the large bed.

In the dim twilight of the bedroom, Daryl stood, shirt soaked through and through with sweat; his chest heaved as damp strands of hair fell over his face. They were unable to conceal the glistening layer of you on his chin, neither they could hide the blown pupils of his stare. There was almost no blue visible in his eyes.

You licked your dry lips, forcing them to cooperate, "c'mere," your hands stretched out towards him.

Daryl crawled on the bed and over you, sitting between your spread legs. Obedient, he leaned into you, placing sloppy, damp kisses over your face as you wound your arms around his neck. The tent in his boxers hovered less than an inch away from your bare cunt.

"I need ya'," you breathed, tasting yourself as you licked into his mouth, hoping to convey with you body what you couldn't with your words.

"Ya sure, sugar?" Ever the gentleman, Daryl pressed his clothed cock over your bare cunt, ruining his underwear even further; his muscles flexed under your palms.

"Uh-uh," the heat, the feel of his thick cock backtracked any progress you'd made on getting your vocal cords and your brain cooperate. There was nothing but lust and saliva gathered in your mouth now, something that both of you shared during another slow, wet kiss. Your teeth clashed, your tongues ran over each other, all graceless and sloppy.

With one swift, ragged motion of his hand, Daryl shoved his boxers down and over his cock, freeing it from the tight confines; that action alone was enough for him to let out a grunt as the cool air hit his leaking, flushed tip.

The same tip that slapped against your clit, jerking your body and his.

"F-f-fuck," Daryl wheezed, fisting his cock at the base, running the tip slowly over your lips, your clit and down to your hole, "m'not gunna last for shit like this."

Just get inside me!!! You wanted to scream. Instead, you wiggled your hips, you squeezed his shoulders.

The fat head of his cock slipped in, slowly, steadily. More wet, sticky noises got lost in the growl coming from Daryl's gritted teeth.

Your cunt was sucking him in, all wet and hot and snug and constantly flexing, rippling as it adjusted to his size. The roll of your hips that followed was utterly unintentional, driven by the most primitive of instincts.

"Oh, sugar," Daryl grasped your hip tightly, holding it in place, "fuckin' shit. What're you doin' to me, woman?" His speech slurred.

All you could reply was a series of small breaths, 'ah-ah-ah's' with every inch of his cock sliding into you, until you felt his heavy balls pressed against your ass.

If your eyes weren't clenched shut, you would have seen the wild look in Daryl's eyes, the way they darted between the blissed-out look on your face and the root of his cock secured against the entrance of your cunt.

Slowly, he withdrew, hissing at the smooth pleasure of your wet pussy sliding over his cock, and then he slammed back in.

Your body curled, arched; a shriek left your lips at the sudden realization. You held onto him tightly, his shoulders, his arms; the sweet feel of his skin, slick with sweat, bombarded your senses, drowning you in that natural, masculine smell of him.

You babbled some nonsense, something about how good he felt, how he fit just right and so nicely, how he was so good to you-

"You're so good to me," Daryl objected, Daryl stated, "s'fuckin' sweet. My sweet, messy girl."

The words alone brought you closer to the edge as he hammered away inside your oversensitive cunt. In fairness, he could have flicked your clit just once, or even taken his mouth to one of your hard, throbbing nipples-

Daryl's need to feel you come, to clench and gush around his rock-hard cock was at the forefront of his mind, followed closely by awe at the way your body molded perfectly against his. The way your thighs quivered as they attempted to wrap themselves around his hips, the desperation in your grip on his shoulders.

"Fuck!" He cursed, teethering at the very edge of his orgasm, "come for me, pretty girl, c'mon," he urged, swallowing his own moans and gasps.

"I- uh," you, too were almost right there. The coil in your stomach at its most tense, it sent small tremors inside your cunt, shocks of pure, hot, liquid ecstasy-

That traveled down Daryl's cock. Like damn rings during a heated game of muckers, the spasms of your cunt collected at the root of his shaft, one on top of the other, until he could do nothing else but rut roughly, sloppily into the equally sloppy mess of your cunt.

He felt it. It began somewhere at the deepest part of you, squeezin' the head of his cock firmly and traveling all the way down his shaft, until each ring of pleasure popped, releasing his seed into you-

Throbbing, your cunt pushed and gushed, a flash of lightning zapping your clit as Daryl's pubic bone ground into it with force. A hoarse scream tore from your throat, your body curling inward with the force of your orgasm. Strong, heavy spasms of his cock shooting hot ropes into you lulled you into the aftershocks.

It made both of your bodies limp with exhaustion. The cord had snapped and tension finally leaked out, dissolving like smoke and fog into the open air.

Sweaty, sticky and hot, the two of you panted your relief onto each other's cheeks.

Your lips connected with the rough stubble on Daryl's. Hair hung over his face, obscuring your smile.

"Whatchu grinnin' at?"

Boy, did he sound fucked-out. All smoke and gravel and spice and everything nice.

"Feels good."

"Heh," he chuckled, the noise coming from somewhere deep within his chest, "sure does."

#WHEW I NEED TO BE NEUTERED Y'ALL #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #twd smut #fuckin' tiktok editors wirh their fuckin sexy edits #fuckin norman reedus with his stupid fuckin face #ALL OF YOU GET OUT #of my head #please.

[calypsocolada]

how they kissed you for the first time... ft. tecchou, kunikida, dazai, sigma

cw: none, mostly fluff :)

wc: 2.6k

He’d been watching your reactions as you ate. You stayed pleasant, a soft smile on your face as you tried the food he prepared for you. Vanilla ice cream mixed with mashed potatoes. It was disgusting to say the least. Tecchou had a thing about like colored foods. Apples with hot sauce, carrots and sherbert. It was a whole thing and frankly you found it kind of endearing. He was always excited for you to try new stuff he put together and not everything had been a complete disaster. You swallowed the mashed potatoes and ice cream and forced a smile. It was strange tasting. 

“Wow, you’ve outdone yourself this time.” You said, reaching for another bite but Tecchou stops your hand. 

“You don’t like it.” He said, gently pulling the bowl away from you. 

“What? No, I like it.” You say but Tecchou just smiles warmly, shaking his head. 

“I can tell, it’s okay, I'll try harder next time.” You bite your lip, feeling slightly guilty. Tecchou runs a hand through your hair, turning you to face him. Your stomach bottoms out at the touch. He was always very professional with you. You had a crush on him the moment you met him but didn’t think it would ever go anywhere. Tecchou leaned down and to your surprise pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You freeze, unsure this was really happening. When he pulls away you stare at him stunned. 

“Tecchou?” You ask as he smiles. 

“I’ll make you something else to eat.” He says, kissing you again.

You stamped another one of Kunikida’s reports, depositing it in the correct slot as you stretched. It’d been a long day. Dazai’s assistant had the week off so you were taking care of both boys and while Kunikida looks after you and keeps his reports spotless Dazai was the complete opposite. You had to fix nearly everyone that he wrote today. Which caused you to have to stay two hours later than usual. You pack up your things quietly, the only light in the office coming from the meeting room. You poke your head in there, Kunikida was sat near the white board working diligently. 

“Hey I’m heading out.” You say as he looks up, confused slightly. 

“I didn’t know you were still here.” He says, setting his pen down to give you his full attention. You sighed slightly. 

“Had to fix Dazai’s reports.” He nods his head in understanding before glancing out the window. It was dark out. 

“You’re not walking are you?” He asks as you nod your head. 

“Too late for the bus, I’ll be okay.” You say but he shakes his head. Closing the folder he was working on. 

“I’ll give you a ride.” He says as you shake your head. 

“You don’t have to do that sir, really I’ll be alright.” You say but he stands and pays no attention to your protests. 

“It’s fine dear, let’s go.” He says softly, grabbing his keys. 

“Are you sure?” You ask as he nods his head. 

The ride back to your house was comfortably quiet. It was softly raining outside, padding against the windshield as the wipers swiped back and forth. You shiver in your seat slightly as Kunikida noticed you move. 

“Cold?” He asks and before you can answer he’s pulling off his jacket to give to you. You thank him and drape the jacket over your body. “I’ll be sure to talk to Dazai tomorrow so that you’re not stuck working later than need be.” 

“I don’t mind.” You saw softly as Kunikida pushes his glasses up shaking his head. 

“I’ll mind for you.” He says, you look over at him. His endless seriousness. You smile. He was always looking out for you. He pulls into your apartment complex as you gather up your things. He parks and switches off the car. You look at him quizzically. “I’ll walk you up.” He says, grabbing some of your things to carry for you. Walking up to your apartment you shake the rain from your hair. 

“Thank you again, I promise next time if I work late I’ll have someone pick me up.”

“No need, it’s easier if I drive you.” He says as you shoot an amused look over your shoulder at him. 

“Easier for you? You love the opposite direction.”

“Easier on my mind. To know your home safe.” He says and your heart melts in your chest. You remember the time the agency had been raided, you hadn’t gone in that day for some reason and when Kunikida thought you’d been hurt he about lost his mind. You felt terribly about it but it also made you feel warm. To know he cared so much. You just wished it was more but he was so professional he’d probably never make a move on you. Once at your door you unlock it and Kunikida pushes it open for you. Inside you set your stuff on the table. 

“You want a coffee or something?” You ask. 

“May I kiss you?” He asks and to be honest you didn’t even comprehend his question before mindlessly answering. 

“Sure.” Because for some reason you thought he answered your question about coffee. A simple misunderstanding. Kunikida’s hand softly slides against your cheek as he pulls you into him and presses a kiss to your lips. You jolt, caught off guard as he pulls back. For a split second you two look at each other before you flushed violently. 

“You just kissed me.” You say dumbfoundedly. 

“I’m aware.” He says. “Was it okay?”

“Uhm, yea. Do you like me?” You ask, thoroughly confused. He looks at you like you were the crazy one. 

“Very much, it’s affecting my focus.” He says. You stare at him as your mind processes the moment. Him kissing you, him affirming his feelings for you. You needed a longer kiss. You gently grabbed the front of his shirt. 

“Kiss me like you mean it this time.” You say as though resting some hypothesis. Kunikida raises his brows. He reaches and takes off his glasses before turning back to you. He gently grasps your hip, pulling you into him, other hand sliding against your cheek. His lips meet yours and it seems your words awoke something in him because he kisses you hard this time.

Infuriating man. You were gone for a week on vacation and came back to your desk a mess. It seems Dazai took the liberty of making various origami animals out of your important documents. You practically growl in anger, pushing out of your chair. You stomp towards Kunikida’s assistant. 

“Where’s Dazai?” 

“He’s working a case but he should be back soon, is something the matter?” She asks as you grind your teeth together. 

“Aside from working under a child, no, nothings the matter.” You growl spinning around as the other assistant giggles behind you. 

You take care unraveling the documents and straightening them back out. Fifteen minutes pass before the front door opens and the man of the hour strolls inside. His eyes find yours and his entire face lights up. 

“Darling! You’re finally back!” He says excitedly. You pointedly turn away from him, back to your desk. You hear him walk over. “Something the matter?”

“Yes! You!” You snap in a hushed whisper. “These documents are important and you made stupid cranes out of them.”

“Oh dear, relax. Here,” he reaches for something on his desk and hands it to you. You snatch it from him. “I made copies.” He says as you look through the perfectly straight papers. You sigh heavily and crumple up the other papers, tossing it at him. 

“I had a great vacation and you’re ruining my first day back.” You say, turning away from him again. 

“Geez, I made all those for you and you toss them away, be still my heart.” He croons. 

“Be still your lips.” You retort. “I need quiet to go over your reports.” 

“Let’s go get some coffee.”

“Did you not hear what I said?” You ask sharply as Dazai leans against your desk. Clearly craving your attention, he always craved your attention. Like some touch starved animal with no self control. 

“I heard,” he says, cocking his head to look down at you. “But I want coffee and I need them to write the reports.”

“You haven’t even written them yet?” You jolt, turning to look at him. He pushes off your desk and dawdles towards the door. “Dazai? Please tell me you’re joking.” You call after him as he slips out into the hallway. You shove away from your desk and practically run after him.

He’s halfway down the hallway when you get to him. “You are going to be the death of me!” You call after him. 

“Isn’t that my line, darling?” He says over his shoulder as you sigh. 

“Kunikida is gonna yell at you for turning in your reports late.” 

“Kunikida is too busy making goo goo eyes at his assistant to notice, it’s been like that the whole week.” He says as you fall into step with him. Mouthing ‘goo goo eyes’ in confusion. 

“Too busy with her, how?” You ask as he looks down at you, raising a brow. 

“You girls don’t talk?” 

“She’s always leaving on time while you keep me here hours late, we don’t have much time to talk.” You sigh. 

“At least I give you free rides when I keep you late.”

“You’re a terrible driver. I’d probably be safer walking.” You sigh as Dazai laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his body. He’s warm and smells like he’s already had a cup of coffee or two. 

“I missed this.” He says as you let him hold you. You two had a very complicated relationship. It was like you were an old married couple. You spent most of your days together either gossiping or bickering there was no inbetween. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. 

“I’m serious about those reports, Dazai, I have something I’m doing after work.” 

“Oh? What’s that?”

“None of your business.” You snipe, pushing him off you. He chuckles, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“It’s a date isn’t it?” He asks as you snap your head towards him. 

“Who told you?” You ask, narrowing your eyes. 

“No one, dearest. You’re dressed up more than usual, not to mention your hair and make up are done differently which means you’re probably leaving from here to go to the date, am I right?” He asks with a shit eating grin. Of course he was right. He was always right. You swallow, sighing. 

“Yes, okay I have a date.” You say as Dazai turns to look at you, he looks at you for a long moment. You huff. “What? Got some jokes? Out with them so we can get your coffee and get these reports done.” 

“Do you like this guy?” 

“It’s a blind date.” 

“Ah.”

“Ah?”

“So you haven’t met him?“

“Not in person, we’ve texted.” You answer as Dazai stops walking. You turn to look at him as you stop walking as well. “What?”

“Do you like him?” He asks again. 

“I don’t know yet.” You answer, motioning him to walk. 

“Who set this up?”

“A friend.”

“A trusted friend?”

“Okay, why the twenty questions? Are you trying to be an ass?”

“Just curious.” He answers simply as you sigh heavily. 

“Can you be curious and also walk?” You ask as Dazai chuckles, walking forwards and before you can react he’s pushing you against the wall and pressing his lips to yours with an urgent need. You gasp and his mouth swallows the sound. You should push him off but something warm is building in your stomach and you realize a little too quickly how much you want this. And when that realization dawns you push him back. 

“What the hell?” You ask breathlessly. Dazai still has his hands on you, his mouth centimeters away from yours. 

“You’re gone for a week,” he starts, voice thick with want and desire. “You answer none of my calls, you come back and suddenly you’re going on a date? With someone you don’t know. Someone that doesn’t know you?”

“Dazai-” he’s kissing you again, plucking your words right from your lips. He pulls back only for air moments later. “What is going on?” 

“Don’t be mad but I have to tell you something.” He says as you pull back, able to see his face. “The reports are done already. I just wanted an excuse to get you out here so I could kiss you.” 

“I hate you.” You say but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story.

There was a man that sat in the corner of your cafe. He was very distinguished, sipped his tea quietly and read various books. It's been a few weeks since he’d been coming so one night you decided if he was going to be a regular you might as well introduce yourself. So grabbing some new pastries you cooked earlier in the day you walked over. The man slowly looked up at you and you gave him a kind smile. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt your reading, I just wanted to give you some free baked goods, I hope you like apple fritters.” You say, setting the plate down on his table. 

“Wow, uh, thank you that’s very kind.” He says, his voice soft as he sets his book down. “I’m Sigma, just moved here a month or so ago.” He says, reaching for the plate. You tell him your name and his cheeks pinken as you welcome him to the neighborhood. You two end up talking for a while, Sigma offering the set across from him for you to sit in. For the next few weeks Sigma stops by, you make him new pastries to try and you two end up talking for hours. One night you were closing up when you heard a soft knock on the front door, you turned and saw Sigma, drenched from the rain outside the front door. You gasped and ran over, unlocking the door and pulling him inside. 

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” Sigma asks as you shake your head. 

“Course not! Did you forget something?” You ask and watch him nervously fumble with his fingers. 

“Uh-  yeah.” He says, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Yeah?” You ask, turning to the table he was sitting at but there was nothing near it. “What was it?” You ask over your shoulder and when Sigma didn’t answer you turned around. He looked so nervous, his cheeks turning red you wondered if he was sick or something. “You okay?” You ask, stepping towards him. 

“Y-yeah, i’m fine.” He stutters nervously. 

“Here, take a seat, I’ll fix you up a hot cup of coffee.” You say and he just nods his head, taking a seat. You walk into the kitchen, worried that maybe he was sick, maybe from the rain. You finish the coffee and walk it over to him, sliding it to him as you sit next to him. 

“Thank you.” He says softly, blowing on the coffee before taking a small sip.

“Are you sure you're feeling okay?” You ask, crossing your legs. 

“Uh- yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.” He says, swallowing. He clears his throat, turning to face you. “I want to uh- to um to tell you that I- uh,” He chatters nervously as you listen, not interrupting him. “Uh- god this is-- hard.” He sighs, taking a big sip of his coffee. You give him an encouraging smile. He sets the cup down and seems sure of himself as he turns and just leans forwards kissing you quickly. You gasp, the kiss was mere milliseconds before he’s pulling back. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve wanted to do that for weeks but I don’t really know what or how to do it and-” You cut him off by kissing him, showing him how it’s done. You take his face and pull him closer to you, his cheeks were cold, his hair wet as you ran a ahdn through it. His hands cautiously reach for you, softly pressing against your hip. You smile into the kiss and grab his hand, pulling it around your back to let him pull you even closer. When you two break for air he looks redder than before, even the tops of his ears were red. It makes you laugh. "What?" He asks as you shake your head.

"You're just cute, you know?" You ask and he gasps slightly, smiling softly.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #fem reader #tecchou x reader #bsd tecchou #bungou stray dogs tecchou #suehiro tecchou #tetchou x reader #bsd tetchou #tetchou suehiro #tetchō suehiro #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #bungou stray dogs kunikida #kunikida x reader #kunikida bsd #bsd dazai #dazai bsd #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #osamudazai #sigma #bsd sigma #sigma bungou stray dogs #sigma bsd #sigma x reader #sigma x you

[mushroomates]

some boromir headcanons

he likes to eat spicy food. he cannot handle the spice, but keeps eating it anyways.

he stays up during merry and pippin’s watches during the night. half because he wants to keep them awake and give them company, half because he’s pretty sure they wont be paying attention.

best hugs. he will kind of pick u up while he hugs u.

would wear a fanny pack.

his favorite food is chicken. he likes any kind of chicken. also likes apples.

decent story teller. can recall gondor’s history easy. when he starts talking about it, he becomes very passionate and has been known to yell or cry while retelling events.

carries around a packet of dirt from gondor around with him for good luck.

tried to make his own brew. went blind for a little bit after trying it. gimli fuckin loves it tho, tried it at gondor and brought a batch with him.

has dogs. took in a stray while patrolling the city, named him Minas. Minas lived a long and happy life, and afterwards Faramir brought him a puppy who he named Ithil.

he is also allergic to dogs. insists otherwise.

his men call him “big brother boromir” behind his back. he pretends not to know.

once pippin called him dad and he coasted on that high for weeks

afraid of heights. will not admit it.

great with babies. would carry faramir around. his dad let him even though boromir was only five at the time, and faramir would try and wiggle out of his arms.

he whittles!!! or carves. works with wood. he made little trinkets for the hobbits in his spare time during the journey. he made pippin a little wooden dog and merry a rabbit because merrys kinda afraid of dogs. he made a bill the pony for sam after moria and was working on a cat for frodo before he passed away. it was in his pocket, half made. the didn’t spot it before he sailed away.

made faramir toys when they were younger- whole barnyard full of animals and some important gondor land marks. also a mini version of their family. faramir passed this down to pippin, who passed it down to his kids. it’s now a family heirloom.

dyslexic. faramir would read to him while he carved trinkets and such.

the fellowship goes out of their way to visit this shrine. he also has one in gondor, rivendell, and just outside of lorien.

boromir tried to teach merry and pippin wood carving once. pippins carving tools were quickly confiscated but merry learned how to make a boat.

merry officially took up wood carving after his death. he makes little boats for the hobbitlings and they have a race every summer down stream.

he also taught the hobbits how to make said boats, so when they’re older they hold the race themself. afterwards, they take the winning boat down to the graveyard.

boromir has a grave in the shire that the hobbits put gifts on, including said boats. it’s on the edge of the forest by the river. the fellowship all come to visit. some things left include: flowers, hot sauce, wooden toys, notes, homemade jam, pretty rocks, and some of farmer maggot’s produce. farmer maggot does not know of this.

#gondor #boromir son of denethor #boromir #faramir #faramir son of denethor #denethor #merry and pippin #peregrin took #meridoc brandybuck #the shire #lotr #lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #the fellowship #the two towers #minas ithil #boromir headcanons #lord of the rings headcanons #lotr headcanons #jrrt #jolkien rolkien rolkien tolkien #jrr tolkien #tolkien headcanons #tolkien #hobbits #boromir and faramir #boromir and his hobbits #boromir deserved better #gondor headcanons #middle earth

[depressoesssspresso]

“No way,” you said shaking your head while munching on some popcorn from the bowl. Your legs were over his as you both relaxed on the Common Room couch. James smiles while you both make eye contact.

“What do you mean no way? I definitely had a bigger crush on you than you on me,” he laughs as he adjusts his glasses. This “argument” of who had a bigger crush on who had been going on for the last fifteen minutes.

“Are you actually joking? Do you think I just happen to carry an extra water bottle every time you had a quidditch game?” You laugh and blush at the memory, “Thought I was such a samaritan the way I was like ‘No yeah I think I have an extra water if you’d like’ knowing damn well I packed it just to have an excuse to talk to you,” You and James’ faces turned red from how long you have been laughing. The two of you have been going out for over 3 1/2 years and would love to rehash this discussion from time to time.

“But that was so cute. Ok but actually how much tutoring did you think I needed? In our third year, I started asking you for help in classes because our schedules didn’t match up. You were like ‘Ugh this Ancient Runes assignment is so hard. Then the smooth boy I am would be like ‘I know right it’s so hard. Let’s do it together.’ I wasn’t even taking Ancient Runes. I was taking Divination,” he bashfully admitted. You giggle at his revelation and continue to eat your popcorn.

“No I knew,” you began, “ I obviously got the hint when you never showed up for class. But you were too sweet to turn down I couldn’t say no. I thought it was weird but that’s sort of your trade mark.” He playfully glared at you while you stuck out your tongue. “ No but seriously, the Quidditch match. I was total heart eyes for you. Even Peter noticed it. Peter!”

“ Well darling, what can I say,” he smirked at you lightly slap his shoulder. “ Y/N, Sirius almost threw a bludger at me in the middle of the game so I would pay attention because I kept looking back at you to see if you were looking at me.” You laugh so hard that you start to lightly choke on your popcorn which causes James to laugh even harder. Tears brimmed both your eyes as you remember the day Sirius and James got into a mini hissy fit in the middle of the game. Sirius slapped James’ shoulder and James almost pushed Sirius off the broom. Let’s just say Madame Hooch wasn’t happy in the end.

“Ok,Ok,Ok, but do you remember me telling Emily Scobell that you were gay so she doesn’t ask you to the Yule Ball. Told her that you and Sirius were mad for each other” You say sitting up straight and sitting cross cross Apple sauce facing your boyfriend. His eyes bulge out and dramatically whip his head towards you.

“THAT WAS YOU!” He yelled while laughing. “I gave Sirius hell for that. Thought he was telling girls we were together to get them to stop coming up to me as a prank.” [A/N Kyle in South Park What the hell are you telling people that we’re a gay couple😭] “ What about my family emergencies?” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion as he gives you the biggest smile while pulling you to his chest.

“What family emergencies?” You question.

“Whenever I wanted to have an intimate conversation with you and was too shy to start, I would come up to you saying there’s been a death in the family. You would then comfort me and give me all your attention,” he giggles as you playfully gasp and hit his chest again sitting up.

“YOU WANKER!” You say in between giggles, “ You told me your grandparents passed away.” This only caused him to die further of laughter.

“ I told you that excuse every week. How many grandparents do you think I have!” James says with an undying smile. Your stomach begins to hurt from how badly you’re laughing.

“YOU MET THEM ON CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY TOO” He continues which causes you to laugh so hard no sound comes out.

“ Oh yeah, I forgot,” you say wiping your tears. As both you laughed dies down, you snuggle back into James chest. “ Damn, we really had it bad for each other, did we?” He kisses the top of your forehead.

“ We still do,” he whispers and he hugs you tight.

#james potter #mauraders #James potterxreader #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #imagine #james sirius potter #potterhead #fanfic #fluff #jamepotterimagine #james potter imagine #young james potter #young sirius black #young James potter x reader #harry potter imagine #Maurader imagine

[willowser]

I love the idea of older bkg , 2nd most well known pro hero not knowing how to talk to ppl he’s attracted to and he doesn’t know how to initiate first moves (not until he gets more comfortable). He has some tension with you, someone who works @ his agency and he wants you so bad but it’s unbearable and that is what makes it so unbelievably hard for him

He’s sitting criss cross apple sauce on his bed, frowning and his hands running thru his hair bc he doesn’t know how to respond to you saying “ good morning!!”. He ends up leaving you on end for the 378293th time out of nervousness and than gets sad when you start to not text him at all , ignoring him in public because you think he’s not interested ☹️

You’re trying to move on already- and so you said yes to some guy who asked to get lunch with you. He’s sitting infront of and you think he’s cute and all, he has you blushing and kicking your feet a little.

Bakugou has his hands gripped around the lunch he packed you , his knuckles turning white. He’s standing there like “🧍‍♂️” . He doesn’t know what hurts more, how easily the guy is able to woo you, communicate clearly with you, touch you , how taken you look, or how fast you’re moving on

omg this is my favorite version of him !!! 🥺🩷✨️ he LITERALLY wants you to be his SO BAD that it makes his stomach hurt. he screenshots your snapchats and then curls up with his phone in bed, a hand over his face bc he's EMBARRASSED !!!! BLUSHING as he peeks through his fingers at your picture !!!! HE MAKES ME SICK !!!!

and the thing is that he's so hard to read 🥺 anyone that knows bakugou also knows — if he DIDN'T like you, then you would be made well aware of it LOL but as someone that's trying to get to know him 🥺 expressing interest in all the typical ways 🥺 he's not responding correctly !!! 😭 he leaves you on read SO many times, it's heartbreaking 😭 you send him a cute mirror selfie, telling him, "hope you have a good day ! ☺️✨️" and then he SCREENSHOTS IT, like a dork, and then sends back a terrible selfie with a terrible angle, face all 😠 with a doggie filter 45 MINUTES LATER, just saying "you too" BOY BYEEEEEE LMAOOO i would rip my hair out.

and — of course it's hard to try for him for a while and get very little back 🥺 and then another nice man, that's charming and handsome and funny, comes along 🥺 and makes you think...maybe you're putting effort into something that will never be ??? 🥺 UGH SAD. and when bakugou finds out he's !!! devastated 😭 bc he KNOWS he's slow at this, knows he's bad at it 🥺 that he needs to man up and do the damn thing !! 😤

i literally imagine him, after finding out you've eaten lunch with someone else and appeared to have a great time — he's just sitting in his office, slumped in the chair akfhsjak chin in hand, staring dead-eyed at his computer screen 🥺 and he gets some phone notification and he checks it and then goes to close all his tabs 🥺 but his 'screenshots' folder is still open 🥺 and he just frowns at it akfbejsjqjqk SAD SAD SAD

#he makes me sick #it makes him so upset 😭💀😭 #but how would you know ?? 🥺 #and he has little moments where he's like WHATEVER I DIDN'T CARE ANYWAYS — to very quickly returning to his soggy sad boy self LOL #POOR THIIIINGGGGG #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: pre relationship bakugou

[muertawrites]

eddie munson and food

this man lives on cup noodles and cereal. he doesn't know what a vegetable is and thinks black pepper is a fancy spice. the most complicated things he knows how to make are grilled cheese and kraft dinner (she says like she's not american), and those are rare. if you can cook or like to cook, though, he'll eat whatever you serve him - he's really not as picky as he seems.

grocery shopping with him is always an adventure. it's almost like shopping with a kid; if he had his way, your weekly meals would consist of doritos and pizza rolls. you're constantly having to tell him to put things back, keeping an eye on the cart to make sure he doesn't sneak in as much junk food as he can. he's also super chaotic in a grocery store - hanging off the end of the cart while you push it, drumming his knuckles on everything he passes, kicking random boxes off the shelves to see if he can catch them before they hit the floor.

"can you be chill for like five seconds?" you plead as a fifth box of instant mashed potatoes smacks down at his feet.

"no. absolutely not."

asking him to get things for you to keep him occupied is also a disaster.

"baby, we need lettuce."

"... yeah?"

"you brought me spinach."

"it's green and leafy. it's lettuce."

he thinks the fact that you can make things from scratch, no matter what it is or how simple the process, is magic. he'll lean over the counter and just watch you cook, never absorbing anything but always amazed by your ability. even if you can only make something as elaborate as spaghetti with canned sauce, it's like a gourmet meal to him.

if there are any comfort or ethnic foods you make often, he wants to hear all about them; they're also his favorites, purely because they're yours and he loves listening to you talk about them.

for the hispanic babes: he's mesmerized by tortillas. will hover in the kitchen just to watch you make them.

"so that's how you're so friggin strong. rolling those things out and making them your bitch."

"you flip those things with your hands? babe, that's so fuckin metal!"

(i love making tortillas from scratch store bought tortillas ain't shit)

he's a habitual stealer of your food - anything you have, he'll sneak a bite or a sip of it, no matter what he has to eat. once he finishes his fries, he'll take a couple of yours. he regularly leans over your shoulder to drink from your straw. if he comes home and you're already eating dinner, he'll grab a fork or a spoon and poke it into your dish instead of getting his own; chinese and indian food are common in your house because of this.

was surprised to find out there was more than one kind of cheese.

his favorite thing to cook for you is butter noodles. if you're feeling lazy or are a little short on cash, he'll pop open two packs of instant ramen and slather the plain noodles in butter and black pepper. bone apple teeth.

you help him make baked goods for his side business. he loves everything you bake (if you bake), and whether you like to partake in the ganja or not, he appreciates you taking the extra time to add it to his favorite recipes.

(this is just me projecting) it actually started because you don't smoke. you're sensitive to pot and get really bad paranoia and anxiety, even from a contact high. eddie, being the loving and protective man he is, refuses to smoke in the house / apartment / trailer / whatever because of this. you felt bad in winter when he had to suffer the cold, so you did a little research and figured out how to baste some of his stash in butter to add to cookies and brownies. he proposed to you after taking the first bite (and was actually kind of serious about it).

he started sharing your special baked goods with some of his more well-liked clients just because he was so proud of you and wanted to show off your skill, but they became super popular. now you make batches just for him to sell from time to time; they're regularly gone within a day.

hates fish; it makes him nauseous. big fan of red licorice.

likes to feed you. instead of offering you things to try, he'll hold his hand or fork / spoon up to your lips for you to bite from. gets a little turned on when his fingers "accidentally" slip into your mouth. loves it when you lick things off his fingers.

will sometimes belch in your face just to gross you out and annoy you. he thinks the way you scrunch your face up when he does it is cute. always kisses your nose immediately after. he's a little shit.

#muerta's works #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #can't believe this fictional man is my literal boyfriend at this point

[tetsuooooooooooo]

boy what the fuck are you doing with five entire belts. what are you holding

back👏pack👏for👏his👏apple👏snack

back🤜pack✊wherehekeepshis apple snack👏👏

HES👈GOT✊THAT👇 APPLE🍎SAUCE🥣 that YOU🫵CRAVE😩

#i never noticed his lil baggies before actually so cute #this doesnt even qualify as a joke i just started to get the song stuck in my head whenever i saw him yigdjggc #the arcana

[lqfiles]

— no limits , jaemin

— synopsis ; out of all the people in the world, you seem to have fallen for the one you swore was off limits.

pairing — jaemin x reader

genre — best friend’s brother, friends to lover-ish

warnings — mutual pining, reader is weak in the knees for jaemin lol

a.n ; hot sauce jaemin on my mind 24/7

wc — 1.8k

“are you even listening to me?” your friend, jiyoo asks as she waves her hand in front of your face. “huh? oh yeah, i was.” you say, slightly dazed while your gaze remained on the boy who had just entered the line to get ahold of today’s meal the college had to offer. “can you stop looking at jaemin and focus on me?” she snapped her fingers in front of you and this time you turned back to her.

“you know him?” you asked a bit too excited and she sighed. you cleared your throat and sat back properly, offering her an apologetic smile. “sorry” you muttered. “no, it’s alright. and yeah of course i know jaemin.” she said, a bit disappointed by the fact she did know him. you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “are you guys friends?” you asked, taking interest in the new found relationship between your friend and the hot guy in the queue.

"it's weird calling him my friend, even though my mother wants us to be." she took a bite out of the food in front of her as you waited for her to continue. "that's my brother, na jaemin." she answered. "no way." you responded back baffled. "what do you mean 'no way', i have told you about him!" jiyoon chuckled before rolling her eyes at you.

“yeah, but you didn’t mention the part where he is very good looking.” you said, gaze averting back to the guy that had just left the line. “why would i call my brother good looking.” she said as if it was common sense. “speaking of the devil.” she mumbled and before you could ask her what she meant, you felt warmth behind and slightly turned your head to be met with a tray of warm soup and a cake. your eyes slowly looked up at the guy you were just talking about and he quickly glanced down, sending you a tight smile.

“hey, tell mom i’m not coming home tonight, i’m gonna sleep over at jeno’s.” he told her. you continued to stare up at him, mouth slightly open. “sure, just make sure to call her and tell her when you arrived.” she said not even batting an eye at her brother who stood there. he told her a small thank you before his eyes looked down at you again. “you must be (—), jiyoo has told me some stuff about you. i’m jaemin.” he smiled, a hint of a smirk as he noticed how your mouth was still slightly open.

“i am (—)!” you responded back with a smile. “i know. i just said that.” he let out an airy chuckle and you didn’t know if you wanted the ground to swallow you, or squeal at how cute his laugh was. “yeah, uh, did she say g-good things or bad?” you awkwardly asked back, internally shaming yourself for stuttering in front of jiyoo’s brother. he chuckled. “both?” he smiled before walking off to a table on the other side of the canteen. you heard jiyoo try to hold in her laugh and you didn’t think twice before placing your head on the table. “that was embarrassing.” the both of you said in unison.

“please, (—) i’m begging you, don’t look at my brother like that.” jiyoo expressed, by the time you looked up her smile was gone and was overtaken by a look of disgust. “huh?” you asked, mind still thinking about what your best friend could’ve told her brother about you.

“there is a reason i didn’t tell you that my brother is, attractive- or whatever you guys seem to like about him. he’s off limits, (—).” she said as she drank from her carton pack that contained the remaining bits of apple juice she had. “i understand, but i don’t know if i’ll be able to not think he’s cute.” you chuckled. “i don’t care, as long as you don’t act on those feelings of yours. i don’t know how i’d feel knowing my best friend is dating my, brother. out of all people. ew.”

ever since the discovery of jiyoo’s extremely cute brother, you have been trying to spend more time at her house. sometimes she knows about your intentions, sometimes she doesn’t. but every time you can’t help but feel bad. deep down the both of you know that the only reason you’re at her house these days is so you can get a glimpse of jaemin making his coffee in the kitchen as he brushes his hair back, wears those grey sweatpants with that nice fitting white t-shirt of his. or to accidentally bump into him as you make your way to the bathroom to wash your hands.

it was one of those days where you excused yourself to go to the bathroom in hopes of bumping into jaemin. sometimes you wondered why you were this desperate, you’re sure that you won’t even be able to talk properly if he looks at you, let alone greet you. but trying didn’t hurt did it?

and just as you predicted, jaemin emerged from his room, presumably making his way to the bathroom. as he noticed you just leaving it he stopped to send you a short smile. “hello (—)” he greeted you with a grin. sometimes you wondered if he knew about your intentions. there were times, when the two of you would make eye contact, where he’d send you a smile that seemed to understand and see through your plan, and knew what you were trying to accomplish. grins, like the one he was giving you right now, made you wonder if he was just messing with you.

“you okay there?” he asked, moving his face in front of yours to see if you were okay. you snapped out of your thoughts as his face was just a few inches away and jolted back. “ah yeah, i’m… fine.” he chuckled before standing straight and walking ahead. ‘cute’ he said as he walked past you and placed his hand on the top of your head, slightly ruffling it.

“he called me cute.” was all you could think of for the the rest of the day and the up coming days too. you had a sickening grin on your face as the words replayed in your mind and jiyoo started to grow worried. “are you fantasising about my brother again?” she asked in a disapproving tone. you looked at her, grin still on your face. “no.”

it was a friday night when jiyoo asked you to have a sleepover at hers, and obviously, you couldn’t decline. not only did you miss spending time with her, you got to see jaemin the next morning, voice probably five times deeper than it usually was, for free. how were you going to miss out on that opportunity.

when dinner came by, the two of you decided to eat with jiyoo’s parents as they requested you to do so. as you waited for the food, you wondered where jaemin was. jiyoo must’ve caught on as she kicked you from under the table. “ow??” you yelped out, sending her an irritated stare. “sorry, your mind seemed to be thinking of stuff it shouldn’t.” she warned you with a grin. you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.

soon enough he joined the table, and as if your wishes were granted, he took a seat next to you. you studied his appearance for a moment. it seemed like he had just woken up from a nap. his hair was still messy and eyes weren’t fully open. he turned to his side and noticed you before sending you a smile.

as dinner began, you couldn’t help but feel the need to try and look as appealing as you could for the guy next to you. as everyone started to have conversations, you noticed how quiet jaemin was. you turned to your side to see that he was looking at you already. “is there something wrong jaemin?” you asked him.

instead of giving you an answer, he leaned in and you almost panicked. “what are you-” you were about to panic, until you felt his soft hand brush a strand of hair behind your ear, lingering there for a bit longer. “sorry, it was almost getting in your food and it kind of bothered me.” he gave you a smile before going back to his food. if only he knew how much that affected you.

you excused yourself to go the bathroom and splashed some water over your face and you felt it burn. “this is insane.” you muttered. how could a guy you barely knew have such an effect on you when you haven’t even had a proper conversation with him yet? it was strange.

“you alright?” you heard the deep voice you had grown used to behind you speak. still, you jolted your and turned around to see jaemin leaning next to the door, sending you a soft smile. “yeah, i’m okay.” you said, holding onto your cheeks to still feel them burning.

there was a silence that was rather awkward and unsettling. “i… should we go back?” you asked him in hopes of escaping this situation. instead he moved himself so that he was in front of the door, allowing no access in or out. “i know you like me, (—).” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “you… do?” you asked, slightly taken aback by the sudden mention of it. non the less, he nodded.

“i also know how jiyoo has told you how i’m off limits.” he said, and you slowly nodded along, wondering what he wanted out of you. “she told me the same thing when it came to you.” at this point you were trying to decipher if his words had any double meaning with the way he was speaking.

he took a step closer so that he was in the bathroom with you, and brought his face closer than you’re used to. “good thing i’m not one to follow stupid rules, and even better that i think you’re cute too.” he suddenly confessed. just like that he left the bathroom, not before he send you a teasing grin as you stood there with your mouth open in shock. he likes me too. was all you could think of at that moment.

having a best friend with a hot brother who is off limits is always going to be disappointed. but having a best friend with a hot brother who is willing to break those rules for you is different. and just like your best friend said, out of all the people in the world, you had fallen for her brother. the same brother who was currently laying with you in his bed as he spoke about his day to you. there truly were no limits when it came to na jaemin.

thank you for reading!

#nct dream x reader #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #jaemin imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct scenarios #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct fluff #nct jaemin #jaemin x you #nct dream jaemin

[jungle-angel]

farmer’s market prompt, my beloved!! lmao could we possibly get 2, 18 and 19 with the floyd bunch, please? 🧡

Ooooooooh my God yes!!! My mouth is watering at the thought honey!!! (lol).

The smells of apples, cinnamon and pumpkin made your mouth water as you, Bob and the rest of the Daggers all worked at the stall, selling whatever had grown on the Floyd land along with a ton of baked goods that Bob's mother and grandmother had made. You hadn't eaten anything all day and still had a baby and two older children to feed which would most likely be sooner than later based on the way four month old Deidre, stirred in her little wicker sleeping basket under the counter.

"Baby?" Bob asked when he noticed you rubbing your temple. "You ok?"

"I need something to eat really badly or I'm gonna pass out," you told him.

Bob held up a finger, signaling for you to wait while he ran to the next stall over where Mr. and Mrs. Alessi were busy selling hot lunches, big pots of pasta smothered in marinara sauce, bowls of steaming hot wedding soup, grilled fish and meatballs that were as big as a fist.

"Hey Vinny," Bob greeted.

"Bobby! Bobby my boy!" the husky New Jersey man greeted cheerfully, kissing Bob's cheek. "Mio figlio, how are you?"

"Couldn't be better," Bob chuckled. "I came to see what was on the menu for today, we're starving over at our end."

"Ah you're in luck kiddo," Vinny told him. "Remember when you were a kid and you'd stop by the restaurant after school?"

How could he forget? Vinny Alessi had taught Bob everything he knew about the kitchen, second only to his own grandparents.

"I put it on the menu especially for you and (y/n)," Vinny told him, handing Bob two small boxes. "Made the Pizza Napoletana fresh this morning."

"Oh Vinny you're a lifesaver, I owe you," Bob told him.

"You don't owe me nothin," Vinny insisted with a wave of his hand. "Although, now that I think about it, I'll take some of your gram's and your ma's fresh apple donuts when you get a chance."

"Will do Vinny," Bob answered. "How many?"

"Baker's dozen if you can swing it," Vinny answered. "We've got the grandkids for the day and they haven't eaten either."

"I'll take two dollars off," Bob said. "That ok by you?"

"Perfect!" Vinny declared proudly. "You get on back over there. You're wifey's probably lookin for her lunch."

Bob bid Mr. Alessi farewell and returned with the lunches, the pizza fresh and steaming out of the little oven. While you ate yours, Bob packed up a little brown box full of apple cider donuts for Vinny, taking two dollars off the order as payment for lunch.

"You doin better baby?" Bob asked.

"Now that I've eaten I am," you answered.

The whimpers that came from your waking daughter signaled that it was lunchtime for her as well. "You mind taking over so I can go to the truck and feed her really quick?"

"Don't mind at all baby."

You gave him a quick kiss and thanking Bob before gathering your daughter and heading off to the truck to feed her. By the time you came back, Bob had a little plate of apple cider donuts and a mug full of hot, fresh cider waiting for you.

"Oh baby thank you so much," you said, placing your daughter back in her little basket.

"No worries my sweet," Bob said, kissing your lips.

You and Bob went about your day, selling the goods and bartering for others in return. You couldn't have imagined a better day than this and getting to spend it with the ones you loved the most.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad #dagger squad fall prompts

[ladylooch]

i know mack is tough and independent but i can imagine her waiting up for her daddy to come home after they lost and then cuddling him and playing with his hair and being like “it’s okay daddy”

Usually it is Lucie who waits for Nico to come home.

But when he walks into the kitchen after returning home, it's Mackenzie he sees with her little legs swinging from a dining room chair. She has an apple sauce pack in her mouth, then grins and waves when Nico walks through the door.

"Hi sweets." He chuckles, kicking off his shoes. He yawns as he walks over to the table to see her. "What are you doing up?"

"You sad." She states simply.

"I am a lil sad, yeah." Nico confirms. "Tough one tonight." He squats down by her chair. Mack reaches out her little hand, patting the top of his head. He smiles widely.

" 'S okay." She says simply. "I love you!" She puckers her lips, covered in apple sauce. Nico chuckles, ignoring that and giving her his cheek.

"I love you too." Nico replies.

"I would love if you were both in bed." Lexi murmurs, sleepily from the stairs.

"Sorry, mama." Nico says over his shoulder, letting his eyes crawl over her body in her silky nightgown. She clearly has something in mind to make him feel better. He turns back to his daughter. "You ready to go back to bed?"

"Yeah! With you!"

"Not tonight." Nico says, walking over to Lexi with Mack in his arms. He dips their daughter so Lexi can smooch her forehead. "I'll wipe her face before she gets into bed." Nico assures, seeing Lexi's look. "Go to bed, mama. I'll be there soon."

#what my world spins around au

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Hi hello im a dirty American heres some friendsgiving headcannons for the sp character

Cartman:

That man aint bringing shit

Only there for the food

The type of mf to steal ingrediants while youre cooking something

Dives RIGHT for the pumpkin pie

Nobody is happy

He denies it but its do obvious hes stealing shit 🤬

Does not wait for a toast

Bro just dives in

Getting seconds, thirds, fourths

When hes done theres no left overs

If he were to bring something id be pie

His moms recipe

BUT THIS LITTLE FUCK EATS IT IN THE CAR

Kyle:

Sometimes hosts the friendsgiving at his house

Brings the sparkling grape juice/apple juice

And also the Kosher things

Only has one helping, tries to get leftovers for the family or for kenny

Helps his mom cook when hes hosting

Setting the table always

Tries to toast but ends up yelling at Cartman for eating before hes done

Helps Ike pack for those little kindergarten thanksgivings?

Yknow when you dressed as a pilgrim and ate food?

Was I the only one who did that??

Stan:

He panicks and brings what he can find

"Hey dude! What you bring?"

"Uhhh... leftover mash potatos?"

Hes TRYING

Downing the sparkling juices like no tomorrow

The eggnog too

Cartman encourages it

"CHUG CHUG CHUG"

Watching the football game

RESTRAINS himself when it comes to food

Like, he wants it but knows Kyles gonna be pissed

Plays catch with everyone else

Or pingpong

Doesnt give a fuck about the Macys parade

Kenny:

Brings canned stuff he got from the food drive

Like cranberry sauce

Sneaking leftovers for his family

Plays catch with the boys

Died from a football lodged in his eye

Oh and from the

"Macys parade"

Incident

You dont want to know

Butters:

Brings the sweet potatos

Suggest christmas music/movies be played

Cartman called him gay immediately

So that got shut down

Brings the extra pies and everything since Cartman eats his

Lover of cranberry sauce and other things most people hate on thanksgiving

"Oh that was good! Could I have more please?"

"Butters what the fuck who likes CRANBERRY SAUCE???"

"I do!"

Doer of the toast

Often gets hit in the face when they play catch and cries

Can't stay for long cuz his parents are strict but hes there on video call rest of the time

Craig:

The type of mf when you ask what he brought he says

"My presence"

MF-

No!!!

You need to bring FOOD

They have to kick him out

He comes back with bread rolls or crackers, cheese and olives

So hes aloud back in

Doesnt care abt the parades or catch or anything

Just kinda there for Tweek

If someone asks him to do sonething he'll do it though

Hes limited by meals thanks to his braces

He doesnt care

Thats future craigs problem

Flips someone off if they beat him in a sport

Or flips off the tv when someone does something stupid in football

Has restraint when it comes to food

Bro will just wait

Wait

Wait

Wait

And then devour his plate in seconds

Tweek:

Brings homemade cider or pumpkin spice

Panicked the whole time

Hiding upstairs half the time

At least until food

He looks like a sopping wet cat

Doesnt really eat that much

Convinced the food is poison

Dont try to reassure him either he doesnt trust you

Has to check a million times though

"Is this poison???"

"No???"

"GAHH!! I dont believe you!!"

Leaves after feasting

He can only handle so much

Arrives super late too which is ironic

Jimmy:

Brings the food over and makes a puns

Like puts devil horns on eggs

"Jimmy what is that?"

"D-d-d-deviled Eggs"

Bro is telling thanksgiving jokes every second

Does the toast some years

Its like a stand up comedy routine tho

He lets you eat during that

Sneaking food

Mischievous little bastard

Puts on family fued when he realizes the boys are too pissed at football

Also has brace limits

But does he follow them ever? Nope

Drinks sparkling juice from a wine glass

Able to keep the party going for a WHILE he has ENERGY

Card playing KING

Winning at Crazy 8s left and RRRRIGHTTTTTT

Clyde:

Brought mac and cheese

Either that or bread

Food sneaker

Thinks hes good at sports

Hes not

He gets hit in the face so often

And cries

Tried Tweeks coffee

Started coughing and gagging immediately

Hes a picky eater im calling it now

Like will not eat if he doesnt think he'll like it

Me too Clyde i get it

Likes the Macys parade

Fucking weirdass

Arrives a bit before Tweek but is still late

The mf to get seconds

Wont eat before the event either

Saving his stomach for yum yums

Tolkien:

Also hosts

Helps his parents with food

Makes the dinner table look like a whole buffet

When hes not hosting he brings stuffing or some expensive good food

Or like

Homemade dip?

Casserole?

Idk

Seems like itd change every year

Great at sports

Helps clean up too

Toasts sometimes

Very generic toast

Doesnt seem like someone who has much to say

#south park #southpark butters #southpark #sp butters #sp tweek #sp craig #sp headcannons #tolkien black #tolkien #south park tweek #craig x tweek #tweek tweak #craig tucker #kyle brovlofski #eric cartman #stan marsh #thanksgiving

[belovedspector]

Day 1: Rain

Fandom: Moon Knight (MCU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader

Word Count: ~200

Summary: A rainy day throws a wrench in your plans for the day.

Content: Fluff! Reader can sit cross-legged on the floor.

A/N: Part of @monthly-challenge's #SpringFling2024! Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

“But we’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay.” Marc’s soothing voice brings you back down to Earth a bit.

“I know,” you sniffle, “but I just wanted today to be perfect.”

You look out the window, where rain is coming down in buckets and the clouds are an angry, dark gray. It’s definitely not picnic weather, which is unfortunate, considering that’s what was on the agenda for today.

“We’ll still have a good day,” Marc assures you, crossing the living room to grab a blanket off the back of the couch. You watch as he shakes it out and spreads it across the floor.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Well, if we can’t go outside, we’ll just have our picnic in here,” he says, briefly walking into the kitchen to grab the already-packed picnic basket off the table. He returns to the living room, setting the basket down in the middle of the blanket, then sits down next to it. He pats the empty spot beside him. “C’mon.”

You can’t help but smile as you join him on the floor, mirroring his criss-cross-apple-sauce sitting position.

Maybe it’s not exactly how you pictured today would go, but, you have to admit, it’s still a pretty damn good afternoon. You have your favorite person to keep you company, after all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

#springfling2024 #moon knight #mcu #marc spector #marc spector x reader #x reader #jace writes #also i'm posting from mobile for the first time so lmk if the formatting is weird or anything

[glassofspoiledmilk]

Going Gold | Yuri P.

Chapter 8, Dinner | TW: Language

As we made our way to the restaurant, i walked beside Yuri, glancing at him occasionally. When we got to the restaurant, it was packed with people. We waited in a line for about 10 minutes before getting up to the hostess stand.

"We have a reservation under the name baranoskaya" Lilia said.

"Yes your table is ready, follow me" the hostess replied as she escorted us to our table.

It was a a circular table with a white cloth covering it. There were two chairs on each side, Yuri and I sat on the left side, Yakov and Lilia sat on the right.  I lifted up my menu and tried to read it but it was all in french, and I don't speak a lick of French.

"Yo Yuri what does this mean" I said as I pointed to a paragraph on the menu.

"Why are you reading the French side" he said, giving me a look.

"There's an English side?" I asked, slightly embarrassed.

He took the menu out of my hands, flipped it over, and gave it back to me.

"There" he replied.

"Oh" I said defeated as I read over the menu.

"Bonjour, my name is Vivianne and I will be your waiter this evening, can I get you guys anything to drink?" The waiter said with a thick French accent as she popped up infront of our table.

"I'll have a glass of Chateau Angelus red wine" Lilia says as she puts her menu down.

"Um I'll have a glass of Pinot Grigio" yakov says awkwardly.

"Can I have apple juice" Yuri says nonchalantly.

I kick his knee.

"What the fuck Yuri who orders fucking Apple Juice at a fancy French restaurant!" I whisper yell at him.

"What do you want me to order!?" He says back.

"I don't know but definitely not apple juice!" I say  as I roll my eyes.

"So apple juice or no?" The waiter says awkwardly.

"Uh yea sorry" he says, glaring at me.

"And what would you like ma'am?" The waiter asks me.

"Can I have cherry coke please?" I ask.

"Oh yea sodas so fancy Y/N that's what I should've ordered" Yuri says sarcastically.

"Shut up" I said as I kick him under the table.

"Oww" he whined as he reached down to grab his knee.

"Alright I'll be back with your drinks shortly" Vivianne says sounding slightly frightened.

I rolled my eyes as I looked back at the menu to look for something to order. I decided that I was going to get French onion soup because that was the only thing I was familiar with on the menu.

When the waiter came back with our drinks, she asked us if we were ready to order.

Lilia and yakov ordered some fancy French dish I had never heard of, Yuri got Alfredo pasta (which I hadn't seen on the menu), and I obviously got the French onion soup.

"So yuri, still confident your gonna win?" I tease.

"Yea why wouldn't I be" he says looking up at me from his phone.

"Just wondering, cuz you know I'm doing more quads than you are" I say as I take a sip of my drink.

He groans at my obvious attempts to annoy him.

"Also where did you find the Alfredo?" I add.

"In the pasta section?" He says with a snarky tone.

"Oh" I replied.

Around 20 minutes later the waiter comes back with our food.

"Does everything look ok?" She said after she placed down everyone food.

"It look great thank you" yakov says politely.

"Great I'll be back to check on your guys in a little" She adds as she walks away.

I ate some of my soup, and then looked over at Yuri.

"Yuri that smells really good, can I have some?" I say as I lean over towards him.

His face slightly reddens.

"ew no get your nasty face out of my food your gonna infect it" he said, pushing me away.

"Oh Yuri you suck" I say, annoyed.

I slightly gasp.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Oh my god Yuri look at that!" I say as I point to across the restaurant.

As he looks over I lean in and take some of his pasta, however he whips back and my face flies straight into his food.

I lift up my head, which is now covered in sauce, and wipe my eyes.

Yuri bursts out laughing.

"I hate you so much Yuri" i say, half joking.

I excuse myself to the bathroom, which is extremely fancy.

The lights are dimmed, and the walls look like they're straight out of Versailles.

I walk over to the mirror, and grab a crap ton of paper towels.

I wiped down my face first, then my hair.

The top of my head was completely slicked down with water so I pulled it back into a ponytail. I grabbed my handbag and pulled out my mascara, eyeliner, blush, and lipgloss. When I started doing my makeup, I heard someone open the door.

I look in the mirror and see Yuri standing in the bathroom with his eyes covered.

"Yuri it's just me in here, you don't have to cover your eyes" I said.

He removed his hand and looked at me.

"U-uhm I just wanted to say sorry for laughing, even though it was funny" Yuri said as he walked over towards me.

I face back to the mirror and re apply my mascara.

"It's fine I was being stupid, you don't need to apologize" I say with a  laugh.

He laughs.

As I reapply my makeup, I can feel his gaze upon me. My cheeks blush red as I try not to look at him.

When I finished I turned to look at him and he looked back at me.

I could tell he was trying to repress the blush on his cheeks.

"There's something in your hair" he says as he laughs hysterically.

My face goes completely red from embarrassment.

"Here I got it" he says as he reaches back and grabs a couple paper towels from the dispenser.

I looked deep into his eyes, almost in a trance as he gently cupped the side of my face with his left hand and carefully got some sauce out of my hair with his right.

I could feel my heart rate increase within seconds.

He turns around to throw away the paper towel and I'm still completely dazed.

"Are you ok?" Yuri says as his face flushes an even deeper shade of pink.

"Yeah I'm fine" I reply as I snap back to reality.

"You ready to go back?" He asks.

"Yea" i add as I make my way to the door.

We walked outside of the bathroom together, which earned many looks of disapproval from nearby older couples.

"Hey Yuri do you think those older couples would believe me if I told them you were a girl" I say through repressed laughter.

He rolls his eyes and pushes me forward.

"Owww" I say as I rub my back.

He lets out a smug huff in response.

"I got the dessert menu from the waiter if you would like to look at it" Lilia says and we sit down across from her.

I picked up the menu, and Yuri leaned over my shoulder so he could see it too. His face was incredibly close to mine and I could feel the warmth of his body on my own.

I struggled to keep my eyes on the menu.

I read through and everything looked really good. there were fresh croissants, macarons, hot chocolate, every sweet French delicacy.

But I wasn't hungry, I didn't even want to eat my soup that was now starting to get cold from the time I was in the bathroom.

My stomach felt queasy like I was gonna be sick, but I knew I wasn't. I couldn't get my heart to stop racing, and I could tell my face was red. I took a sip of my coke and went on my phone, praying it would distract me enough to the point where I can normally function again.

Yuri ended up not getting anything and eating his pasta, which I though was absolutely disgusting because my entire head was in it, but whatever.  Lilia asked the waiter for the check and we headed on our way back to the hotel.

When we arrived, I was exhausted. I threw off my  heels and grabbed a pair off pajamas from my suitcase.

"I'm going to shower" I said with a yawn.

I walked into the bathroom and started the shower.

I looked into the mirror and pulled out my hair tie. The top of my head was completely slicked down, and the bottom was sticking out.

I physically cringed at the sight.

When I stepped into the shower I immediately started washing my hair to try and get the cheese out of my hair. After that I washed my body and got out. I put my pajamas on and sat down on the toilet for my nightly routine. I did my skincare like usual, but it didn't feel usual.

Something was wrong.

I couldn't say what it was even if I wanted too, something just felt different.

It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, it was just different.

When I finished my skincare, I went back into the main area of the room and plopped down on my bed.

#yuri on ice #figure skating #fluff imagine #grand prix #oneshots #x reader #yuri plisetsky x reader #yurio plisetsky #victuuri #wattpad

[asinfullangel]

Could you do a story about Raihan eating Leon and streaming it?

What could I suggest or see when it comes to a streamer that wishes to show off his man on stream before he’s packed away in the true star of the stream. Yet, I can see how Raihan can spice up his streams whenever Leon is looking a little more tastier than usual.

One would be fine roleplaying, maybe the dangerous & devilishly handsome dragon king captured a juicy prince to claim as his meal. Leon being the primes of course, chained up with his clothing partly torn open & apart, shivering scared (& covering up the bugle in his jockstrap) as king Raihan step into the “royal chamber” with his own kingly & revealing outfit (and even working dragon wings, brought to you by cosplayCO). Both boys playing in character as Raihan moved closer to his captive prince, striking an intimidating look with a seductive monologue about his beauty, the sound of his voice, and (after getting a little taste) how his skin sparks flavors on his tongue. And expressing his need to have more before having all of him inside his body…

Another idea I can see is an entertaining one if Raihan wishes to do some nibbling before he eats the main course. Raihan presents with Raihan served on a sliver (bedsheet), his body used as a plate that had all sorts of sweet treats on him, slowly melting from his body heat as the pleased waiter (baa) set that drooling trainer to the side of his bed before leaving the room. Leon gagged with a chocolate covered apple and beside him was a grave bowl of melted chocolate. You can imagine that Raihan either takes his time in eating his manly plate clean, using his tongue and teeth to pick Leon clean or why bother picking him clean and simply eat him whole while using that chocolate sauce as lube as when he takes the trip down…

Or he gets kinky, presenting the viewers to Leon blindfolded and his limbs tied to each corner of the bed. Raihan showing off how wild he can be and Leon will be his example. Viewers watch with great interest as Leon receives bite marks along himself, Raihan voicing his enjoyment in seeing his champion bf in this state and just how much control he has over him. Maybe some worshiping from Leon with his lips, more bite and claw marks here & there, Leon & Raihan moaning from each others’ pleasures. Then in time Leon & the viewers will hear a soft growl from Raihan’s gut, indicating that it is time to chow down…

Just some ideas that’ll entertain Raihan fans and Leon fans that heard words of his appearance in the stream, watching as Leon enters Raihan’s watering mouth feet first. Tongue licking up all the flavors he got on his skin before moving onto the next and adding more of Leon inside. soles, calves, thighs licked & funnel into his throat. Leon’s bulging jockstrap ripped free and Raihan gladly helped in giving his man a long awaited climax, adding some extra flavor onto himself and a little on his face. The fans are eating this up just as he continues to enjoy his treat, more and more till his upper body was locked in his throat while Leon’s head was still out in the open air. One long lick around his head then another swallow, in go Leon and all the way into his stomach, Raihan panting and rubbing his gut (and possibly his own pulsing bugle still trapped in his underwear). And the rest of the stream is switch over to Raihan relaxing with the man eating gut resting in his lap, rubbing his gut or took up gaming since the fans could use some entertainment as they wait on Leon to become champion pudge & respawn back soon enough for some belly worship (off or on stream).

#male vore prompts