#“good mitts” when he puts the icing on...
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What happens when you ask Easton Cowan and Fraser Minten to decorate a gingerbread house?
#MERRY CHRISTMAS LOOK AT THE BABIES#“good mitts” when he puts the icing on...#hockey boys you are so hockey boys#posting this here for archival purposes#i might gif a couple of the moments here too i havent decided yet#feeling a certain way about fraser being called “minty” or “mints” while he calls easton “easton”#fraser minten#easton cowan#team canada#wjc24#toronto maple leafs#*
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Kinktober: Day 7
Prompt: Medical Play
TFP Ratchet x GN afab reader
Warnings: consensual Doctor/Patient role play, very inappropriate use of medical devices, slight bdsm, lots of body fluids, masturbation, temperature play
Word count: 1058
(this is your warning, this gets very kinky. click away if you’re not comfortable!)
“I'll take it that the patient is comfortable?”
Comfortable is a strong word for Ratchet to use, in your opinion. Being strapped down with your wrists bound with leather on an ice-cold gurney isn’t what most people consider relaxing. The only mildly comfortable thing about your position is the soft padding under your thighs, elevating your legs, but at the cost of exposing your entire pelvic region to the mech.
You weren’t comfortable. No. You were turned the fuck on.
Nodding helplessly, you grind your hips on nothing in anticipation of what your lover had planned. Though, you weren’t totally in the dark. Ratchet had explained his darkest desires beforehand after your curiosity got the better of you. His detailed explanation of the obscure, downright dirty, and, god forbid, unethical things he wanted to experiment on you unexpectedly set your groin on fire at the mental image.
“Very well then,” Ratchets’ servo grazes over his tidy set-up of intimidating medical equipment before selecting the humble stethoscope, turning to you as he secures it to his helm, “We will proceed with a thorough check-up then, hm?”
All you can do is nod once again; the O-shaped gag fitted snuggly in your mouth hinders your ability to give your doctor a verbal answer. He hums, approaching the head of the gurney. He leans over and places the cold end of the stethoscope above your heart, causing a soft gasp to leave your throat.
Ratchet listens for a bit, humming in thought, “Your heart rate is elevated. I can only deduce that you’re excited, or for a better term, aroused.”
You let out another whine as he moved the stethoscope down your stomach, stopping at each quadrant to listen. The icy cold instrument makes your hair stand on end, and Ratchet can't help but let his other servo drag across your tummy to feel for himself, “Abdominal sounds are excellent, no abnormalities from what I can tell.”
Ratchet agonisingly drags the end of the stethoscope down past your belly button, “Though I do have one concern,” He drags it even further down before pressing it straight onto your pulsing clit, “And it’s how fraggin’ wet you are.”
Never once had you thought that having someone take a stethoscope to your clit just to hear it throbbing would be hot, but watching Ratchet listen, and watching his spike pressurise right in front of you, was enough to draw a loud restrained moan from you. And when you think it couldn’t get more erotic, Ratchet starts to circle and put pressure on your aching bud with it.
“Nnghn… fck…” You whine, grinding your hips upwards to gain more friction, but it’s in vain as Ratchet pulls away, groaning as he watches your slick leave a silvery thread in its trail.
“My, my…” Ratchet breathes out, observing the end piece with equal professionalism and restrained lust, “I was going to utilise some medical grade lubricant on you,” He flicks his optics back to your dripping cunt, “But by the looks of things, we won’t be needing it.”
You keenly watch as Ratchet reaches for another tool, a speculum. You’re not entirely sure yet how Ratchet got his mitts on one, but you’re more curious about how he will use it. But you have a fair idea when he starts to press it against the entrance of your weeping hole.
“Relax, Y/n,” He reassures, patting your inner thigh as he sees you tense up at the coldness of the speculum, pushing it past your folds, “You don’t want me to sedate you, hm? Or would you like that too?”
You shake your head before inhaling deeply through your nose as he pushes it the rest of the way in, shivering at the icy coldness against your fluttery walls, “Nmh… mhmm…”
“Ohh, very good, I knew you could do it,” Ratchet hitches his breath, lowering one servo to his heavy throbbing spike to lazily stroke at it while he starts to actually fuck you with the speculum, “Such a good patient for me…”
“Ngghn! Hoh phcuk…” The gag does nothing to stop your moans or your saliva from spilling from your mouth. You grind your hips as much as you can, eager to impale yourself further and further onto the girthy device.
“Y’know, I really shouldn’t indulge myself while assessing patients,” A low grown escapes him, optics trained on how the speculum disappears into your tight heat as he fists himself in tandem, “But Primus, you make it so… hhnnn… so fragging difficult…”
Your thighs are shaking from the strain of their position, hips arching as you desperately moan and cry out for your impending orgasm. You throw your head back as your doctor fucks you faster and deeper, stretching your walls in a way that makes you see stars.
“F-Frag…” Ratchet stutters, positioning his weeping spike before the speculum, “Time for… ngggh… your injection…”
You have no time to question him before your core tightens and your orgasm hits you like a train, crying out in euphoria as you clamp down on the speculum, your entire body shaking and trembling against the restraints. But what you never expected was for Ratchet to grip the handle to open it so he could press as much of his spike as he could into the opening of the speculum.
“O-Oh frag…” Ratchet lets out a half whine, half sexy as fuck growl as he strangles his spike and shoots his trans fluid down the opening, onto your pulsing wet walls and directly onto your fucking cervix.
A strangled moan leaves your throat as he fills you up completely, allowing some trans fluid to drip out of your wide-stretched cunt, watching with pure erotic fascination as he milks the rest of his hot fluid into you.
Ratchet exhales deeply, letting go of his spike, allowing the last remnants of his overload to throb against his thigh. His optics flicker down to your gaping hole, still clamped open by the speculum, and he hums in satisfaction, bending down to get a closer look, and you can’t help but whine at the sudden feeling of being observed so profoundly.
“The procedure is successful,” He huffs before dragging the speculum out, letting the rest of his transfluids dump out onto the gurney, chuckling at your shivers, “Shall we arrange a follow-up appointment?”
#transformers#transformers prime#transformers x reader#transformers prime x reader#tfp x reader#tfp ratchet#tfp ratchet x reader#valveplug#cyberrose kinktober 2023#kinktober 2023#cyberrosewrites
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
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You paused brushing your hair mid-stroke, head quirking to the side to look at the door. Faintly, the sound of the door opening and slamming shut could be heard. Dammit. You had really hoped your husband— Robert, a short round man with messy dirty blonde hair and dull brown eyes— would be working late, yet again. With a sigh of unease, you heaved yourself up from the stool in front of your vanity, gazing at your tired face in the clean mirror.
When had your appearance changed so much?
Of course, you were still stunning, your hair neat, and a nice colour. Despite all the years of a loveless marriage, your {E/C} eyes were still magnetic, and full of hope. Part of you really did hope your awful love-life with Robert could be fixed— even if deep down you knew it was far beyond repair. But it was a nice thought none the less.
"Where the hell is my food?" An irritated voice called from downstairs, snapping you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you made your way down the stairs with your hand gliding along the railing next to you.
For the most part, you loved your life, and home. Robert had a nice job, which meant you'd be able to live in this nice, large home, and not have to worry about getting a job you'd end up hating, though you didn't much like being a housewife either. You found it boring, and often fretted the common thing of husbands' cheating on their wives whilst out "working late."
Once you made it downstairs to the living room, you saw Robert pouring himself a glass of amber liquid, ice in the bottom of the glass. He brought the glass to his lips and quickly downed half of the whiskey. "Hello, honey," you offered lamely, brows upturned and a small smile plastered across your face— even if you didn't feel like smiling. He liked women who smiled, and Robert being happy meant less arguments in the long run.
He sharply turned his head to face you, glaring at you with contempt.
"..I'll get your supper dished out,"
Robert nodded, before turning his head back around and going back to his drinking. Fucking asshole. With meek steps you scurried to the kitchen. Once there, you opened the oven, a pan which was still — thankfully — warm sat inside of the interior, and it smelled wonderful too. Putting on oven mitts, you took out the pan and set it on the counter. Meatloaf.
.
Supper was silent, the only noise being the quiet sounds of eating, and forks scraping against the plates, a sound which made you cringe slightly. Robert acted like you weren't there. And maybe mentally you weren't.
Why on Earth did you want this life? To be a housewife? Growing up your mother was unmarried, nor was she dating anyone. She had always romanticized this life, her words laced with honey as she would pour out her dreams of finding some rich handsome man. Of course, she never did. But her raw adoration for such a simple, yet attractive lifestyle made you crave it just as much as she.
It was the worse mistake of your life. You loathed this, loathed Robert. His passion was long gone, with it your happiness, and sexual pleasure. Whilst "love"-making wasn't completely vanished, any of your pleasure being priority was. He was fast, rough, and awfully bad, too. Not a good combination.
Not to say at one time you didn't mind the roughness, or fast pace, but that was back when he loved you. Now, he treated foreplay like a chore, and all you'd receive was bad dirty talk, and mediocre fingering, and hardly much of the latter. It was just all that— a chore.
You didn't even have anyone to properly weep your woes to. Robert didn't like you shooting the breeze with other men, and all of your women friends were cherry-picked by him, the wives of his friends
They were all rude bitches. It was as if they saw just because they were a bit older that they were somehow better than you. Or maybe they felt that way because of your lack of children.
Not that you were infertile, no, you could have a child if you wanted it. But that was just it, wasn't it? You didn't want children. Occasionally you'd have to look after one of your "friends" ankle-bitters, and they seemed much more trouble than they were worth. If you wanted something to take care of; just get a cat, or dog.
Robert seemed a bit upset with your lack of child, too. It was often a sore subject which led to arguments, so you seldom brought it up. And he did the same, for which you were grateful.
You were a lonely housewife looking for some form of escapism. Cheating was never on your mind, but you craved excitement, and something far away from Robert.
.
.
.
Without wasting a single moment, the second Robert had finished eating he stood up and walked away, likely to the shared bedroom. With a grunt of irritation, you stood and collected up the freshly emptied plates, taking them to the sink to wash them.
Your hands slowly scrubbed the plates, wanting to prolong the time you stayed up into the night. Robert seldom cared if you laid with him at night, but the way he just.. ignored, turned away, or shoved you off stung, and often you'd have to blink away tears.
Half the time you couldn't even register your own feelings. Maybe isolated. Definitely lonely.
But, surely there was more out there for you, wasn't there? Maybe you could divorce Robert, move far, far away. You'd for sure be shunned if you got a divorce, nobody would want you— a woman who couldn't even be a right wife? Awful. But if you moved away, you could tell the new folks that you were.. a widow, or something.
That sounded nice.
Even if deep down,
you knew,
Robert would never allow you to divorce him. It'd hurt his ego far too much.
#francis mosses#francis x reader#thats not my neighbor francis#francis mosses tnmn#francis mosses thats not my neighbor#milk man#milk man x reader#fanfiction#x reader#prolouge
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Batter and Banter.
Summary: You and Jonah have a super domestic moment baking and light playful bantering.
Warnings: None, pure fluff.
A/N: I’ve never made cake from scratch so i just used the first recipe i saw online lol and i didn’t feel like reading all that so all the measurements are made up so if the math isnt mathing thats why.
“Babe where’s the cake mix?” You asked looking through the target bags.
“I thought we were making it from scratch,” he said looking at you nervously.
“I guess we have to now,” you chuckled pulling out your phone looking for a recipe. “Okay listen closely,” you told him and he listened attentively, “grab the flour, baking soda, eggs, buttermilk, vanilla extract, butter, vegetable oil, sugar, and salt,"
“Yes ma’am,” he saluted you playfully before scavenging for the ingredients.
“Okay, first it says to mix a whole stick of butter, a half cup of oil, and two tablespoons of sugar in a bowl,” you read from your phone before grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and placed it on the counter.
Jonah put the ingredients in the bowl and you handed him the electric mixer and he got to work on that while you started on mixing the dry ingredients.
“Okay now it says to add in two eggs, one at a time, and stir thoroughly after each one,” you recited the recipe and watched as Jonah did just that.
“Alright now we combine the wet and dry ingredients,” you told him while he slowly poured the mixture into your bowl and you mixed it as he went and you poured in a little buttermilk to make the batter less chunky. You added in the vanilla extract for the flavor.
“You’re not going to measure it?” Jonah asked as he watched you pour the extract straight from the bottle.
“I just pour until my senses tell me to stop,” you claimed as you continued to pour the vanilla extract and stopped after a few seconds.
“That’s a lot of vanilla extract,” Jonah said looking in the bowl but you put your finger over his mouth shutting him up.
“Trust me,” you told him, “I’m true to this not new to this,”
“Yes ma’am,” he said playfully putting his hands up in surrender as you mixed the vanilla extract into the cake batter. You dipped your finger into the bowl and just as you were about to try the batter Jonah took your hand and licked the batter off your finger.
“Seriously,” you asked and rolled your eyes at him.
“That’s really good,” he said attempting to dip his finger back in put you smacked his hand away and began to pour the the batter into the pan. “Can i at least lick the spoon,” he asked hopefully as you placed the pan into the oven and set a timer.
“Knock yourself out,” you deadpanned and he tilted his head at you.
“Why’d you say it like that,” he asked taking note of your overly serious tone.
“Say it like what?” you asked in the same tone trying to hold back your laughter.
“Like that,” he exclaimed. “Knock yourself out,” he said mocking your tone of voice.
“I do not sound like that,” you claimed and rolled your eyes at his attempt at your voice,
“I do not sound like that,” he repeated you but was quickly shut up when you threw flour at him. “Oh thats what we’re doing?” he asked before picking up a handful of flour.
“No,” you shouted before slowly backing away from him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apoligized multiple times.
“I forgive you,” he said before throwing the flour at you making sure to avoid your hair. Before you knew it your kitchen was covered in flour and so were you and Jonah.
“I hate you so much,” you told him looking down at your flour covered apron.
“I love you too, darling,” he said helping you wipe the flour off of your apron. You heard the timer go off and grabbed your oven mitts grabbing the cake out of the oven.
You stuck a toothpick inside of it to make sure it was ready and it was so you stuck the cake in the fridge for a little bit so it could cool off and you could put the icing on it.
Mini time skip
You and Jonah were sitting on the couch eating the cake and watching your favorite show.
“You have a little something right there,” Jonah told you falsely.
“Where?” you asked him and you began to feel around on your face searching for whatever was on there.
“Right there,” he said before wiping icing on your cheek.
“You make me sick,” you said rolling you eyes as he wiped the icing off with his thumb.
“I love you too Y/N,” he told you before kissing you and laying his head on your lap and you began playing with his hair before kissing his forehead.
PART TWO
#jonah hauer king x reader#prince eric x reader#prince eric#prince eric fanfic#prince eric x y/n#prince eric fanfiction#princeeric#prince eric x you#the little mermaid#the little mermaid 2023
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Don’t worry darling
Another year with Elvis has come and gone. Since you first started a serious relationship with him he’s given you everything you’ve ever wanted. Now that it’s your turn to return the favor everything has just gone wrong. Don’t you worry, he knows how to make it all better.
Elvis Presley x reader fluff.
Word count: 2k.
Warnings: making out, dirty talk, heavy touching, talk of insecurities, crying.
A/n: happy birthday to my beloved showman. Released early because I couldn’t help myself.
Getting Elvis a birthday gift was always difficult. Arguably one of the most troubling tasks given to a person. What didn’t Elvis already have? He had everything, so what could you give him that would be substantial? For some strange reason, you decided to bake him something.
The old wives tale is that the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so why not give it a shot? The thing was, you weren’t a baker and not that good of a cook to begin with. Sure, you tried to bake miscellaneous pastries and desserts, and Elvis would eat them along with everyone in Graceland, humming and oozing with admiration as they ate, telling you that it was amazing once their mouths were empty. You can’t help but feel like they lied to you; they were too scared of breaking your poor ole little heart if they told you the truth. Maybe it was Elvis telling them that if they said anything bad about your cooking, he’d tan their hides.
You’d hum a tune to one of his songs. Strumming the tips of your manicured nails on the tops of the marbled counters, you wait for the bread of your cake to rise. Nervously, you smile. An anxious flush turns your body warm. It’s not going to turn out the way you wanted; you just had a strange intuition about it. Knowing that you put in way too much sugar and flour. You wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t rise at all. You chewed down on your bottom lip, the nervous anticipation getting the best of you.
You could hear the mafia and Elvis yelling and playing football out front, with their wives and children cheering them on. That just filled you with more dread. What if he stumbles in on you when it’s not done? Or even worse, what if he saw your mistake, and you made him disappointed on his birthday?
Sighing, you stick one of your fingers into the icing you had laid out and stick the pad on your tongue. The sugar lifts your mood, but the ding of the oven going off sinks it.
Opening the top, you gasp and are instantly hit with emotion. It didn’t lift. It stayed flat, like a pancake. Reaching up on your tiptoes, you turn the dial off. Tears are pricking behind your eyes. You didn’t want to look at it; you didn’t want to admit your failure. Oh, how disappointed Elvis is going to be! You stood there, hands flat on the counter, as tears slipped down your painted cheeks. Mascara streaked down the apples of them.
What if you just decorated it pretty to hide the fact that it’s ugly? You sniffled with a swift nod, deciding that’s what you'd do. Opening the oven once more with a mitt over your hand, you take the side of the pan and take it out.
Staring at it with sorrow. It had so much potential, and now it's as flat as it can be. The tears began to fall again. A soft sob falls from your mouth. Taking the white frosting, you stream it over the round top, smoothing it over the sides with a spatula. Then make big white dollops over the sides. Follow it with a pink, then a red. Sticking a few cherries in the dollops too. Relieved to know that it wasn’t such an ugly duckling anymore, but now a little swan that’s beginning to understand its beauty. In a gold shimmery yellow, you write haphazardly “happy birthday, El” since Elvis didn’t fit. That was what truly broke you. Your chin wobbled, and with sticky frosting on your hands and fingers, you balled your hands up and rubbed the tears from your face. Truly just shattering in the kitchen.
His cologne filled the air, and before you could even turn around, he pressed himself up against your back. His large, wringed hands spread over your stomach. He kisses your shoulder lightly before placing his chin on your shoulder. You shook his entire head as you cried. His fingers swirled over the wrinkles in your dress.
“Why are you weeping on my birthday, Satnin?”
His acknowledgment of your sadness only made you feel worse. You knew that Elvis had a heightened sense of empathy, which is what prompted him to be so generous. He was like a dog; he could walk into a room and know immediately how everyone felt.
“Is it because I’m gettin’ older? Gon’ become a decrepit old man; is that what you’re cryin’ ‘bout?”
You giggled lightly, your eyes still cloudy with tears. He smiled at your laugh.
“Mourning my youth, is that it?”
You sniffled and moved around in his arms to where you were face to face. His hands fall onto the counter, caging you between his body and the stone. You don’t look into his prying blue eyes. Those of his made you weak.
“Not quite. w-why aren’t you playing football?”
His lips turned into a soft smile, warmth radiating off of him. His eyes filled with mirth. It might be his birthday, but he still looks as young as when you first met him.
"I noticed you weren’t out there, honey. I missed you, cherrin’ me on.”
He takes his hands off the bar and places them on the sides of your face. He sweeps the frosting and cake mix off of your face. He sticks the cream in his mouth and makes his cheeks hollow as he sucks it off. Humming at the sweetness. His eyes close as he truly soaks in the taste. As they open, your stomach is twisted in knots, and your thighs itch for his touch. His eyes linger on your lips, and his palm runs down the side of your face to your neck. He cranes his head down and presses his thick, plump lips over yours. It’s electric and warm. The way he kisses you feels like he’s starving.
He tastes like sugar and honey. A hint of a cigar he’s smoked earlier in the day on his lips. His tongue sweeps over the part between your lips. His hands travel south to your back. Smoothing over the silk. He squeezes the thickness of your hips, then the softness of your ass. He takes big handfuls and palms at your backside. You squeak as he lifts you up and places you on the counter. The marble is cold on the backs of your thighs, making you shiver and your skin prick with bumps.
His hands continue to knead at your thighs. Your dress bunching around your hips. Your heels dangling by his legs. His nose nudged against your cheek. He pulls back. Breathing raggedly.
“You never told me why you were cryin’.”
He mumbles on your lips. You can’t even think straight; your head is foggy with emotion. Eyes half lidded, you look up at him through your lashes.
“I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
He shakes his head. His hair moving on his head by the motion. His eyes flick down to your lips, staring longingly. His hand reaches up to the side of your neck, his thumb traces along your jaw. His other hand lays flat on your thigh.
“Darlin’ if you don’t tell me, I’ll bend you over right here and tear your ass to seven different shades of red.”
He mumbles when he says it so casually, like he does when he jokes, but this wasn’t a joke nor a threat. It was a promise. Your pussy flutters, cheeks warming at his statement. Your eyes look towards the floor, becoming shy. All too self conscious.
“T-tried to make you a cake."
“Mhm,”
His chest rumbles. It vibrates under your palms.
“And it turned out ugly.”
He snickers once you finish, at the idiocy. He loves you but sometimes you are too naive to understand simple things. That’s why he was here to be able to moderate your helpless self, he gets antsy thinking about the person you’d be without him.
“Nothin’ you do will ever be ugly.”
Your brows furrow, and you look up at him. Suddenly feeling insecure.
"Are you sure, El?”
“I know so.”
It’s quiet for a few minutes as you digest his words. Nothing you would ever do would be ugly to him, and that made you want to cry all over again.
“So, where is my birthday cake?”
He curled up his eyebrow as he asked. You pushed him softly away by his shoulders; he helped you down from the counter. Always being a gentleman. There, in all its chaotic glory, was your cake. He smiled, taking the pan and moving it to the edge of the counter.
“You made this?”
He doesn’t look over his shoulder when he talks, he’s too enamored by your creation. You nod quietly. Wringing your hands in your lap, head cast downwards.
He sticks his long index finger in it, up to his golden ring. Placing the white, red, pink coating in his mouth. He moans. This is the type of moan you hear when he finishes. It was just that good. His eyes roll back, and he goes for another swipe.
Your eyes bulge out of your head as he devours the cake in front of you. It started out with his finger, and now it’s in his palm as he eats his way through the small dessert you made him. You were shocked, to say the least. Amazed at how fast he ate it. You’d be sure to hear him whine about his stomach hurting later.
After he was done, he took one of the cherries in his mouth. You watched as his tongue poked at his cheeks. You were confused as to what he was doing. He took a kitchen rag and wiped off his damp fingers. He stared at you. Pretty little woman, his woman making him stuff. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to eat the other cake that was bought for him by the Mafia wives. He much preferred the one you made with love than the store bought one. Even if it was too sweet it was made by you, and you were always too sweet. That’s one of the reasons he loves you so much, but truthfully you give him toothaches.
“Did you like it?”
You whispered under your breath. He laughed heartily, loud and boisterous. It filled the entire house. He took a step over to you. Holding your arms. You looked up at him and he had frosting smeared over his cheeks and lips.
“Darlin’ I ate the whole damn thing.”
You blush, smiling sheepishly. He kisses you, he pushes the tied cherry stem between your lips into your mouth. He pulled back, kissing you on your lips with a quirky smile.
“Somethin’ I learned back in high school.”
You smiled softly imagining a young Elvis buying milkshakes with cherries on them just to practice tying the stem with his teeth.
“Happy birthday, Elvis.”
He smiles in return, one arm over the back of your shoulders as he walks you out of the kitchen and to the front door.
“You’re the best present I could’ve asked for little darlin’”
He adores the light that flickers in your eyes after he compliments you. He kisses your head again, leaving frosting on your skin. He opens the door for you. Waiting for you to walk out before giving your ass a little spank. Amused at your squeal and little jump. You bring your hands back to massage your aching cheek. He’s just happy to have his little cheerleader back.
#xreader#fanfic#fluff#elvis presley#elvis presley x reader#elvis#happy birthday Elvis#elvisaaronpresley#elvis my love#elvis my beloved#i love elvis#elvis x reader#obsessed with him
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Cookies and Cream: Iwaizumi Hajime X Female Reader
Description: While making cookies with your husband for Christmas, the cooking session soon becomes something more.
Contains: Kitchen sex, slight icing play, fingering, 18+ content, sexual content and Christmas themes.
Word Count: 873
Note: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it and Happy Holidays for those who don’t celebrate Christmas. This is a Christmas themed one-shot with Hajime Iwaizumi and has smut in it so I hope you enjoy.
It was early afternoon as you were in the kitchen with your husband, Hajime Iwaizumi, making cookies which was a tradition you guys have been doing for four years and it was your favourite thing to do with him during Christmas. As you put the cookies inside of the oven, Iwaizumi pulled you closer to him as he starts to kiss you on the lips and you kissed back before pulling away.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that right? I love you so much,” Iwaizumi said to you as you kissed him on the lips before pulling away and you smiled at him. You were picked up as Iwaizumi sets you down on the counter and the two of you started to kiss again for a couple of seconds before pulling away. He was about to remove your shirt before you stopped him as he looked at you in confusion and he hoped he hadn’t gone too far.
“Iwa let’s decorate the cookies once they’re done and then do what we want afterwards alright?” You told him as he nods in agreement and you got off the counter before the timer dinged signalling that the cookies were done baking so you put on the oven mitts before opening the oven to take out the cookies, setting them down on the counter where the icing along with other things were like sprinkles.
“These cookies will be delicious once we decorate them. Mind passing me the icing, Iwa?” You said to him as he takes the icing and he unscrews the cap before he squeeze some on his finger while you looked at him with a puzzled look until you realised what he was doing. He likes the icing teasingly as you watch him, your legs closed together and you could feel yourself getting wet even though you didn’t understand why this was turning you on.
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Am I turning you on? You wish the icing was something else right? Like your pussy juices after I’ve fingered you,” Iwaizumi said with a smirk as you blush at his comment and playfully smack his arm. You wished he wasn’t so horny right now but you knew it was going to end up with you two having sex or something and you ended up on top of the counter again as Iwaizumi unbuttoning your shirt before he takes your breasts out of your bra.
You moan softly as he grabs the icing again before squeezing some onto his fingers and rubbed the icing on your nipples while your eyes widened at how cold the icing was on your harden nipples. Once Iwaizumi was done, he began to lick the icing off your left nipple and then moving onto the right nipple as you moan. After the icing was licked off your nipples, Iwaizumi pulls down your leggings along with your panties as he notices that you were dripping wet and he inserts a finger inside of your hole before he begins to finger your pussy, adding another finger.
“Iwa! Iwa!” You moan out as Iwaizumi continues to finger your pussy for a few more minutes before he pulls his fingers out and he licks his fingers clean and you whine since you were close to cumming but he had stopped. Iwaizumi unbuckled his trousers as they fell down, pooling around his ankles and he pulls down his boxers to reveal his harden seven inch cock. You moan loudly when he thrust his cock inside of your pussy as he starts to pound you and he plays with your nipples, further stimulating you closer to your orgasm again.
“Don’t cum yet baby girl. Let me fuck this pussy good and we’ll cum together alright?” Iwaizumi said as you nod in response and he continues to pound your pussy while you’re a moaning mess. Iwaizumi grabs the icing pipe again as he squeezes some onto your lips and he sets the pipe down before he kisses you on the lips, licking the icing off your lips. You were so close as the coil was close to snapping and he pulls away from the kiss after licking off the icing from your lips.
“Iwa! I’m so close! I’m going to cum!” You moan out as you couldn’t hold back anymore and with a few more thrust from Iwaizumi, you came along with your husband. You wrap your arms around Iwaizumi’s waist pulling him closer as you pant and you sigh in pleasure while Iwaizumi continues to cum before he pulls out. You felt like passing out as you were tired and you had to finish decorating the cookies with Iwaizumi but you wanted to take a shower first.
“I’ll go and shower so why don’t you wash the dishes?” You said to him as you got off from the counter, pulling up your panties along with your leggings and head upstairs to shower. After twenty minutes, you came back down wearing one of Iwaizumi’s hoodies and another one of your leggings as you both finished decorating the cookies. Once the cookies were finished, you both headed to the living room to eat together while watching a movie together and this was one of the best Christmases ever.
Note: I hope you all enjoyed this Christmas theme smut one-shot as this was my first time writing one so I hope that it turned out well. If you have any ideas on a oneshot then please let me know down below and I’ll try my best to write it. Anyways please make sure to comment and like this post as I would really appreciate it.
This is @icyhottodo178 signing off until next time!! Peace out!!
#haikyuu#female reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu smut#18+ post#smut#x reader#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi smut#christmas smut
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4town Valentine's Day 💘
Jesse, Taeyoung, Aaron T, and Aaron Z walk through the hallway to their hotel room after taking a stroll around the neighborhood:
Taeyoung: There's nothing like bird watching on a calm afternoon.
Aaron T: I'm just glad there was an ice cream truck. That was one of the best chocolate cones I've ever had. Thanks for helping me chase it down Z.
Aaron Z: *walks behind him exhausted* Anything for you buddy 😊
Jesse: You good Z?
Aaron Z: *gasping * Yeah when I catch my breath next week I'll be able to function again 😮💨
Jesse: I wish Robaire came with us. It's good to get outside once in a while.
Taeyoung: I'm sure he has his reasons.
*Jesse opens the hotel room door*
Jesse: Yeah probab- sweet cheese and crackers! What's all this!?
*The room is decorated with heart, banners, balloons, pillows, roses, and LOTS of candles*
❤️🌹🕯️🕯️🕯️
Robaire: Welcome home my friends! I thought I would put up some decorations for Valentine's Day. *Sigh* Love is in the air.
Aaron Z: I didn't know love smelt like *sniffs* vanilla and *picks up a candle* … Late winter breeze. Whatever the heck that smells like.
Jesse: We were gone for like an hour? How?
Robaire: I'm very efficient when I'm passionate about something.
Taeyoung: So that's why Jess is always yelling at you to do your taxes.
Aaron Z: Were you not efficient enough to get any cookies or candy?
Robaire: That will be for the gift exchange.
Aaron T: Why can't we just buy cards?
Robaire: Because first of all the 4town best friend Valentine's super special gift yearly extravaganza exchange -
Aaron Z: I still say we should shorten the name.
Robaire: -is a time to appreciate each other's gifts and is a testament to how well we know each other. I love giving gifts and I put a lot of thought into them.
Jesse: And I very much still appreciate those custom ‘Art Dad’ oven mitts, but shouldn't we be focusing on our gig that day? The 4townies are so excited to see us perform One True Love live for the first time next week, and after the show I want to go to bed.
Robaire: Then go right to bed on another day of the year but you have to be there for the opening of gifts. Besides we've already drawn names for it so no going back now.
Jesse: Fiiiine if I must.
Robaire: That's the spirit.
Jesse: Uh I think a spirit is what we'll be if all of these candles stay lit. This is most definitely a fire hazard. I'm only agreeing if I get to put half of them out.
Robaire: Fiiiine. If I must.
Aaron T: We've known each other for a while shopping for each other should be easier. Right Z?
Aaron Z: Totally….
*Skip to the day before Valentine's Day at the mall*
Aaron Z: …Not.
Jesse: Come on Z it'll be fine.
Aaron Z: Not when I'm shopping for Robaire it won't. I don't know what to buy and he's definitely gonna try to one up us with his amazing gift.
Jesse: Does anything else in this world motivate you quite like your need to be better than Robaire?
Aaron Z: Absolutely, this is just a continuous priority of mine.
Jesse: So no then. Got it.
Aaron Z: I will search through every isle of this mall if it kills me. I will be victorious.
Jesse: Or you could breathe and let it go…and he's gone. Valentine's is gonna be fun.
*The next day*
Taeyoung: That must have been our best performance yet! Everybody was so excited, and despite my mild fear of heights trying to convince me otherwise, the rising heart platforms weren't so bad after all.
Robaire: Told you it would be incredible!
Jesse: Anyways now that that's over we can open gifts now.
Aaron T: Yeah guys the sooner we get this over with the sooner old man Jesse can take his nap.
Jesse: I'm not ol-
Aaron Z (whispering to Aaron T) You just want to get candy from your gift don't you?
Aaron T (whispering back): Shhhh I just care about Jesse's health…and my blood sugar.
Robaire: Anyways, who wants to go first?
Taeyoung: Me! I got T! Here you go! *Shoves present box into his hands*
Aaron T: YESSS! *Opens package* *gasp* It's a book of skateboard tricks! These are some of the most advanced out there and….a box of chocolate. Thankyou *hugs Taeyoung and whispers* This is why your my favorite.
Taeyoung: No problem at all.
Aaron T: So I guess it's my turn to give and I got Jesse *gives him a very messily wrapped package with 50 bows on it*
Jesse: Geez this looks interesting *opens the box* *gasp* ITS THE SUPER SMOOTH 3000! I've been trying to find this blender for months! My fruit smoothies will be so much better now! Thank you *lifts Aaron T off the ground in a hug*
Aaron T: Your *cough cough* welcome. Could you please put me down now?
Jesse: *Drops Aaron T* I'm next and I got Taeyoung. So here you go?
Taeyoung: *Carefully takes the box from his hand and opens it* Woah! Bird watching goggles! They even have little doves on them! Thanks Jess. I'm gonna have so much fun taking these to the park.
Jesse: I'm so glad you like them. They were some of the best I could find.
Aaron Z: I guess Robaire and I are last. You can go first Ro 😊
Robaire: No, I insist. You go first 😁
Aaron Z: Well this day means the most to you so you should go 😊
Robaire: And I like to share that joy with my friends so you should go 😁
Aaron Z: You.
Robaire: You.
Aaron Z: YOU.
Robaire: YOU!
*While these two keep going back and forth Taeyoung and Aaron T give each other a look and then open the presents themselves (whilst Jesse has too little sleep in him to deal with this)*
Taeyoung: Wow Robaire this is a really nice Destiny ‘s Child record.
Robaire: That's the exact one we listened to when we first met 🫢
Aaron T: Dang Z you got this cool basketball trophy. It even says ‘best basketball player I know ‘. Nice Sentiment.
Aaron Z: That was one of the first things I told you that I dreamed of receiving 😯
*They hold the gifts in their hands for a moment appreciating them*
Aaron Z: *clearly struggling* Th-th-th-
Robaire: Are you trying to say thank you?
Aaron Z: Nah I'm trying to say ‘That's all folks’. Yes I'm trying to say thankyou. Anyways thank you … for … this.
Robaire: Then I guess I want to say thank you too…I guess.
Jesse: Awww this is too sweet.
Aaron T: Maybe it wasn't about who got the best present after all?
Robaire: Mhm. Even though we all know it was me.
Aaron Z: Wh- if anything it was me!
Robaire: No you didn't!
Aaron Z: I got you the record that you sorry self was too BROKE for when we first met!
Robaire: I got you a CUSTOM TROPHY 🏆! Do you know how much that is in this economy?!
Aaron Z: But did I ask-
Robaire: But my-
Aaron Z: No but Robaire answer the question. Answer the question! Did I ask though? Did I?
Robaire: No but you can't just throw that in my face when I'm trying to be nice.
Aaron Z: Clearly not nice enough to admit I'm better…
*Senseless arguing continues in the background*
Jesse: T! They were this 🤏🏻 close to having a nice moment.
Aaron T: Sorry, I was just trying to bring some positivity.
Taeyoung: I'm positively sure they will be arguing for a while so I'm just gonna go now.
Jesse: Agreed. *yawn* 🥱 I'm going to sleep.
Aaron T: And I shall consume all this chocolate within the hour. I love Valentine's Day!
*Later that night Aaron Z and Robaire go to bed setting their gifts down on their night stands smiling at them and then turning the lights out to sleep*
❤️
#Happy Valentine's Day 4townies#Hope this is a nice and remember to love yourselves#(Seriously Robaire has a problem he lit like 48 separate candles)#I guess this could also serve as a Christmas special if you change the holiday a bit#Sorry if it feels rushed (which could just be a flaw in my writing) I made this literally the day before Valentine's Day#Anyways I'm gonna go eat candy now#4town#4townie#4town aaron t#4town aaron z#4town jesse#4town robaire#4town taeyoung
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You may have seen me obsess over this before, but... Luke tries to teach Jess how to play baseball, because "every boy likes baseball, right?" And it doesn't go very well. 😆
The Diner Dudes and the Bad Hop
Part I
Lorelai is bussing a table when Luke clatters down into the diner, and as she looks up and takes him in, it's clear she's trying not to laugh.
"What?" Luke demands. "What?!"
"Nothing, I just didn't know you realized you could wear those things with the brim to the front." She reaches up and gently flicks the brim of his ancient Mets cap.
"Knock it off." What does it say about him that even that miniscule degree of contact with her sends his stomach into somersaults?
"Sorry, sorry." She looks him over once more, from the hat down to the scuffed up Slugger hanging at his side. "So, you're really going to go through with it?"
"'Course," he says. "He's excited."
Her face is soft. "Of course he is. He loves to take the trash out if it means you're with him."
"It's going to be fun," Luke insists. "All boys love baseball."
"Right right." She snaps and points at him, cheeky. "Hey, do you think he'll put whatever he's reading down long enough to hit the ball, or are you thinking the reading material will be thick enough to be a stand-in for the bat?"
Luke rolls his eyes. "Are you in overtime yet?"
"Maybe."
"Go home."
Part II
"All right, bud, remember what I told you?"
Six-year-old Jess is vibrating with excitement. "Yep!" He ticks the items off on his grubby fingers. "Keep my eye on the ball. Don’t swing at anything below your shoulders or anything higher than your knees."
"Er, close. It's actually - "
"And quit when it starts to feel like all the baselines are running uphill."
Luke scratches his head. "Did... I don't remember telling you that last one."
Jess scrambles for the backpack he slung off along the first baseline and pulls out a pristine library book. "Babe Ruth’s Baseball Advice," he announces proudly. "Mrs. Gilley ordered a copy of it for the library when I told her you were gonna teach me baseball."
Mentally Luke runs through a catalogue of sayings attributed to the Big Bam and makes a mental note to remind Mrs. Gilley that Jess is still in elementary school. "All right, put the book down, let's get to it, kid!"
"I'm ready, Uncle Luke!" With comedic effort he hefts the bat over one shoulder and readies himself behind the plate.
"Uh, honey? Try taking the mitt off when you bat."
"You got it, Uncle Luke!"
Part III
"Jess, I think you'll probably have more luck if you open your eyes when you swing."
"Good idea, Uncle Luke!"
"Jess, honey, that's third base, not first."
"But we read left to right! Why do we run right to left?!"
"I, uh... I don't actually know the answer to that."
"That was better! Try running towards the ball instead of away from it next time!"
"What if it lands on my head and cracks it open like an egg?!"
"No, I'm definitely sure there are only three bases, kiddo."
"Chuck Presby says there are twelve, and if you miss any of them they make the umpire put you in JAIL!"
"But are you sure?"
"Look, sweetheart, I know I told you I don't actually know everything about baseball, so I guess it's possible... But I'm telling you, I don't think there has ever been a baseball player who was also a bank robber. And you've gotta stop listening to anything that Presby kid tells you, he's an id - he's just teasing you."
"Uncle Luke! We forgot the wickets!"
"No, Jess, there are no wickets in baseball, that's cricket."
"Uncle Luke! Uncle Luke! I hit it! I - oh no! Uncle Luke! Are you okay?!"
Part IV
Lorelai unearths a bag of peas from the diner's freezer and gently settles it against Luke's cheekbone. "Well, at least he hit it."
Luke glances over at the counter where Jess is wearing more ice cream than is getting into his mouth. He loves that little gremlin so much he might actually cry - or would, if any tears could escape his rapidly-swelling eye. "He certainly did. Baby's first bad hop."
"What on earth is a bad hop?"
"You know," Luke sighs, "ask me some other time. I think I'm done talking about baseball for the day."
"You got it. Need a beer, boss?"
"Make it two. Hey, didn't I tell you to go home?
"You want me to get you a beer or not?"
"Right, shutting up now."
Part V - Two Weeks Later
"And then," Jess says proudly, tapping the little square with his finger, "the guy hit a fly and got out at center field - so I put the 8 in his box Eight stands for center field, remember?"
Lorelai whistles over the scorebook, impressed. "That's so cool, kid. And you learned how to do all that today?"
"Yep." He spins a little on his stool, clutching the precious document carefully in both hands. "Uncle Luke says I picked it up faster than anyone he's ever seen."
"Well, that doesn't surprise me even a little bit."
"I think watching baseball is more fun than playing baseball." Jess beams at Luke as he comes out from the kitchen, Jess's dinner in hand. "Don't you think so, Uncle Luke?"
Luke sets Jess's plate in front of him and strokes his nephew's hair. "You know what? These days I think you're right."
#diner dudes#“I'm here Jess” AU#gilmore girls#jess mariano#luke danes#luke raising baby jess adorable family drama ensues#am writing#fanfiction#my writing#thank you for the prompt stella!#stella asks#Dedicated to my partner who fills out a scorebook at every baseball game he attends
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Pinkberry Week- Day 1 (Sweet)
yooooo i am excited for this. this somehow ended up as lowkey a sequel for a fic i wrote
i started to lose my train of thought towards the end of it and it wasn't working how i wanted it to anymore
but anyway:
sweet-tooth
in which chloe tries baking for brooke and overthinks, so jake invites brooke over to help
Chloe couldn’t understand it.
This was the third time she had somehow messed up.
This was it. This was the end. She was done for.
“You’re overthinking again,” Jake said, trying another of Chloe’s failed cookies. “At least these are edible this time.”
“But they’re not good!” Chloe huffed, pulling off the oven mitts and throwing them down on the bench.
Her hair was a mess, there was flour everywhere, and a mountain of bowls and baking utensils and empty packaging.
“You don’t have to make it from scratch, y’know. Nothing wrong with a box mix.”
Chloe threw a pinch of flour into Jake’s face. “Brooke makes it from scratch.”
Jake: “You don’t even have to bake her anything.”
Chloe: “Then what am I supposed to do?”
Jake: “Literally anything else?”
Chloe: “Like what?”
Jake: “Buy her something. I think I had a pretty good idea to get her a p-”
Chloe: “I swear to god if you try to bring up the pizza metaphor, I will dump the entire bag of flour over your head.”
Jake held his hands up in defence. “You can’t say I’m wrong. And I could be a little more help than just being your taste tester.”
“I don’t want to have to have help with this! It’s gotta be special.”
Jake wiped the flour, or as much as he could, off his face. “Then ask Brooke to make them with you.”
“No way, I can’t do that-”
“Brooke will love it,” Jake said, cutting her off. “I reckon she’ll love baking with you. Rich and I have tried cooking together, not that either of us are great. But it’s fun just messing around in the kitchen with him.”
Chloe: “How do you know that Brooke will want to bake with me?”
Jake: “I just do. Also, she’s, like, on her way over and incredibly excited to bake with you.”
Chloe: “What- you told her!?”
Jake: “Only because you get stuck in your own head.”
Chloe: “I hate you.”
Jake: “Love you too.”
There was a very enthusiastic knock at the door and Jake grinned. “Your darling sunflower has arrived and that is my cue to leave.”
“I’m going to get you back for this,” Chloe said.
“I look forward to it!” Jake called back.
Chloe huffed and stared at the mess she had made in her kitchen. She could hear Jake and Brooke briefly talking before the door shut. She could assume that Jake had left and Brooke was making her way into the kitchen.
She was lost in thought when she felt a pair of arms around her waist. She felt Brooke kiss her shoulder.
“He always leaves you dishevelled, doesn’t he?” Brooke smiled.
“He ditches me in my moment of need. How dare he.” Chloe smiled at the kisses.
Brooke: “Jake said the latest batch was edible.”
Chloe: “But way too dry.”
“Let me try.” Brooke pressed another kiss to Chloe’s shoulder before pulling away. She grabbed a cookie from the tray.
The longer Brooke went without saying anything, the more it cemented the idea that Chloe was a terrible baker.
Chloe: “You hate it.”
Brooke: “I don’t!”
Chloe: “You’re just saying that.”
Brooke: “It’s not terrible! I promise.”
Chloe: “You hate it.”
Brooke laughed softly and held Chloe’s hands. She kissed her gently. “If we put some icing or something on them, they’ll be fine. Jake doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Chloe rests her head on Brooke’s shoulder. “You’re just being nice.”
“Come on, let’s bake something together.”
Chloe lifted her head. “Really?”
Brooke smiled. “Yeah. We’ll make something as sweet as you.”
“Nah, you’re the sweet one.” Chloe kissed Brooke’s forehead. “What do you want to make?”
“Classic chocolate chip cookies.”
“As you wish, my love.”
#lohst.txt#pinkberry#pinkberry week 2023#brooke lohst#chloe valentine#jake dillinger#bmc#be more chill#i'll get around to fixing it#at some point#im starting to think about my graphic novel again
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slowing down (read in ao3)
a short inspired by cotg
When they arrived home, the first thing Annabeth did was rush into the kitchen.
She'd been trying to properly bake cupcakes ever since the start of senior year, and Percy watched with amusement as she moved through the kitchen in a rushed whirlwind.
Percy did his homework in the living room, sometimes looking over to see her progress. What usually killed Annabeth's cupcakes was well... actually baking them. Something about her cupcakes just made them burn no matter what. It didn't even make a difference when she adjusted the time (she wasn't completely insane, okay?). In fact, she seemed to be incapable of underbaking.
The oven timer dinged, but something was off. Something didn't seem right. He sniffed the air, but there was no smell of burnt cupcake batter.
By now, Annabeth had moved to the living room to work on her homework, and she seemed to have noticed the same thing. her eyes widened, and they wordlessly agreed to run to the oven.
Annabeth reached for the oven handle, but Percy reflexively pulled her hands away.
She glared at him. "What?"
"You forgot to put on oven mitts."
Her face softened, and then she slapped her forehead with her palm as Percy handed her the mitts.
Now, with oven mitts on, she opened the oven door and pulled out the tray.
While she placed it on the counter, Percy got out a toothpick which he handed to Annabeth with a dramatic flourish. "Milady, would you like to do the honors?"
Annabeth took the toothpick from his hand, matching his dramatic energy. "Yes, I would like to, good sir."
She inserted the toothpick and pulled it out... and it came back clean.
They both looked at the toothpick, Annabeth in shock and Percy in pride. Annabeth let out a squeal and she jumped up and down in excitement while Percy bit back a laugh.
Annabeth apparently noticed as she asked, "What are you laughing at, huh?"
"Nothing, it's just... it's just been a while since I've seen you so freely happy like this." Percy replied.
Percy immediately regretted saying that as Annabeth's eyes dropped lower, so he held out his arms for a hug and Annabeth stepped into it. They embraced in silence, sharing the burden of their pain, until Annabeth broke the silence. "I'm glad that we made it out."
Percy murmured back, "I'm glad too," and then he remembered what they were doing before.
"Hey, I think the cupcakes are cool enough to decorate."
Annabeth gasped, and then she suddenly sprang into action. "Oh my gods, where's the frosting? I never thought I'd get this far. Well, I did, I just never thought about the frosting..." she rambled on.
Percy chuckled and pointed toward the cupboard with the frosting, and to his surprise, she picked the green frosting.
"Why green?" he asked.
Annabeth turned over the frosting in her hands. "well, I figured that since blue is reserved for special occasions, I should respect that—"
"This is a special occasion. it's your first successful batch of cupcakes." Percy interjected.
Annabeth mulled it over as she continued to fidget with the frosting. "Can we get your mom's permission?"
Right on cue, his mother walked into the kitchen. "I smell un-burnt cupcakes!"
"Mrs. Jackson!—"Annabeth exclaimed.
"—please call me Sally—"
"—can we use the blue frosting?"
His mom's face morphed into one of confusion. "I don't see why I wouldn’t let you."
"Are you sure?"
"Oh my gods, just use the blue frosting," Percy replied, taking the green frosting out of her hands and replacing it with the blue. Together, they iced the cupcakes, and celebrated Annabeth's first successful batch.
They tasted amazing, to Annabeth's shock and relief. Percy insisted that it was because of the blue frosting, but Annabeth still insisted on using green for the future, and his mom insisted that they were both being ridiculous.
He and Annabeth had definitely grown up way too fast and seen too much, but as he watched Annabeth flush as she was showered with his mother’s approval as he enjoyed his girlfriend’s cupcakes, maybe their lives were finally slowing down.
Maybe, just maybe, they could finally leave their past behind.
#the author knows nothing about baking#I looked it up and apparently you need to wait an hour for cupcakes to cool before icing#so we'll just say that they were embracing for an hour#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#annabeth chase#sally jackson#percabeth#ao3#ao3 link#cotg
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Are You Ready To Talk
Josh x Reader (f)
Find All Parts Here
Warnings: implied alcohol consumption, cursing
As the warm morning light flooded your room, you yawned and stretched. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, it all came flooding back.
Josh saying he loved you and wanted more than just friendship. Josh trying to kiss you. You stopping him.
Taking a deep breath, you shake your head. He probably won't even remember what happened, you thought.Sighing, you get out of bed and head to the kitchen.
Just as you finish making your cup of coffee, you hear your phone go off in the other room. Grabbing your mug, you walk back to check your phone. Picking it up off the nightstand, you unlock it and see it's a message from Josh.
Josh: Hey can I come over? I'm in dire need of my birdy's hangover cure.
Me: Yeah, come on over. I'll start making it now.
You knew it. He didn't remember. It's probably for the best. At least this way, your friendship would stay unaffected.
Walking back to the kitchen, you start making cheddar bacon spinach egg muffins. Once those were in the oven, you got out all the ingredients for frozen mocha. After making a shot of espresso, you pour it in the blender and ice, vanilla ice cream, white chocolate syrup, dark chocolate syrup and milk. Turning on the blender, you turn to grab some cups.
When you turn, you see Josh standing there. Letting out a yelp and knocking into the counter, you hold your chest trying to calm your racing heart. All the while Josh is laughing historically.
Turning off the blender, you turn and say, "You scared the shit out of me! When did you get here?”
“I’m sorry. I just got here. Thank you for this by the way. You’re the best.” He says with a smile, giving you a kiss on the cheek.
“It’s no problem.” You say as the oven timer goes off. “Hey can you grab some cups while I get the food?”
He nods and goes to grab them. You grab an oven mitt and go to grab the egg muffins. As you’re bending down to open the oven door, Josh brushes against you. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you quickly get out the can and sit it on the stove. Taking a deep breath, you go grab plates and forks.
Sitting everything out on the table, you ask Josh if he wants some fruit with his breakfast. He shrugs his shoulders and says sure.
Once everything is plated, you sit across from Josh and motion for him to eat. The two of you enjoy your breakfast in silence. After Josh finishes the last of his, he wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Bird, that was amazing. Almost as amazing as you.” He says with a wink.
Rolling your eyes, you say thanks and grab the dishes to put them in the sink. You decide you’ll wash them later. Turning around, you ask, “Hey, what are your plans for today?”
“Nothing really, I thought about doing some grocery shopping, but honestly I think I’ll just wait until tomorrow.” He replies.
“Want to hang out with me and watch old movies? It’s my day off and I missed hanging out with you while you were gone. Plus there’s a movie I wanted to watch with you.” You say.
“I’d love to bird. What movie?” He asks.
“Barefoot in the Park. It has Jane Fonda and Robert Redford in it.”
“Sounds good to me, lead the way my lady.” He says motioning for you to walk ahead.
Walking into the living room, you go over and grab your laptop and hook it up to your tv. Once everything is set up, you hit play and go sit next to Josh on the couch. Once you’re seated, Josh grabs your legs and places them across his lap. Throughout the movie, Josh gently rubs your legs. Only occasionally rubbing high enough to make your heart flutter.
This is just Josh being Josh. He definitely doesn’t remember last night or he would’ve said something by now, you thought. Once the movie ended, the two of you stayed just as you were. Just as you swung your legs off his lap and were about to get up and pull up another movie, Josh grabs your hand and says, “I meant what I said last night. Are you ready to talk?”
#josh kiszka#josh gvf#soft josh#joshua michael kiszka#josh fluff#josh x reader#gvf josh#gvf imagine#gvf blurb#gvf series#gvf fluff#greta van fleet#greta van fic#greta van fluff#gvf fic
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the heat lamp
~*~*~*~
fandom: mcu
pairings: gn!reader x peter parker
genre: fluff!!
warnings: cold. snow. burned hands. reader likes hot chocolate. reader has cats.
word count: 2.3k
summary: instead of warming up by the heat lamp, peter parker decides to go to reader for comfort and warmth.
~*~*~*~
It's been snowing for a while now.
It's been one full month of non-stop snow. At times it's a light fall, and during the dark blustering hours it rages at the loss of light.
Y/n often thought tha if the snow were in the form of rain, there would be a much bigger problem.
But the snow wasn't a huge problem. There were obvious differences between snow and rain. The excess snow only meant a litt more shovelling to keep the drive clear. Excess of rain meant drowned plants.
That's why Peter and Y/n kept theirs inside. Usually by this time of year, all the flowers and weeds alike would be dead, whether or not they were under Y/n's care.
This year however, they were thriving. Y/n had bought a little heat lamp, and it seemed to do the trick to keep the green leaves happy. It also kept the cats happy, to be able to budge the plants out of the way so they could have a turn in the warmth.
Sometime's when Y/n came in the house, y/n would sit with the plants too. Hands placed directly under the lught bulb, right along with the earnest leaves and cat tails.
Y/n had only come away with burned hands twice.
Peter had burned his hands more than once and more than twice. He seemed to have a habit of shoving them too close to the light bulb of the heat lamp.
As Y/n dressed his hands for the umpteenth time, Peter said it was to train his skin to endure the upcoming global warming apocalypse. Y/n said his burn was much worse than he thought it was. Oftentimes Peter got blisters.
The routine was: run Peter's poor hands under cold water, smear polysporin over them, wrap and pin the bandages and then keep him from touching it.
It was more difficult than one may expect, as Peter had a tendency to fidgit. He always complained, but never negated what Y/n had to say on the matter.
But sometimes, when Peter exited the frigid weather into the apartment, he didn't go to the heat lamp. Sometimes he would beeline to Y/n, curled up on the couch, and put his cold hands right up on the warm blushing face.
Y/n always squealed in indignation. Peter's long fingers may as well have been icicles.
But he always said that Y/n made him melt, so it was his best cure.
*unedited past this point*
you just yell at peter to keep his hands of ice away from your face. you’re okay with surprises, but you don’t like these kinds of surprises.
he laughs at you. you retain your good humour.
his teeth will be chattering by this time, though. cheeks bright red with rushing blood, still standing in front of you as you’re curled into the couch.
he still has his winter jacket on, but his mitts have been abandoned by the door with his boots. snow still clings to his eyelashes and socks.
you pull him onto the couch to sit beside yourself. you kiss his cheeks and his nose and his chapped bloody lips.
he always sits in submission as you tug his coat off, to numb to stop it. the winter chill has set into his bones.
the heat lamp can’t do anything for cold bones, and this is why he sometimes comes to you.
you tell him not to stay outside for such long periods of time. he sighs like a puppy as he gazes at you, eyes glossy.
he lets you wrap him up in the blanket that you had been using. he lets you push him into the couch. his hands are under so many wraps by this time, (you sometimes layer his jacket and all the pillows over him and the blanket,) he can barely move.
he wiggles, though.
he’s such a comical sight. he looks up as you now stand in front of him, your places switched.
you admire your handiwork with a laugh every time before going to put on the hot water for warm drinks.
you can hardly describe the look on peter’s face when you come back to snuggle him while the water boils. every time, it seems as if he’s fallen a little bit more in love with you, and you with him.
he is just so cute under the blankets instead of standing in front of the heat lamp.
the plants are happy to keep the heat lamp to themselves. you, in turn, are happier to have peter to yourself in turn.
sometimes you pull the blanket loose so that you can grab his hands and hold them tightly in between yours. they’re still cold. his blood runs slow.
you wonder if there is such a thing as a human-sized heat lamp. you both could use it during the winter to keep yourselves constantly warm and happy like the plants.
today, peter squeaks as you move to squish him against the arm of the couch and your own body. he flails under the blanket, and asks for freedom. you simply grin while casting his winter coat away and pull the edges of the blanket away from him.
peter’s hands were always free, but now his arms are too, and the instant they regain mobility he reaches out and pulls you closer to his own body. it happens all very quickly, one moment you have your dignity, the next, are being swaddled like peter formerly was in the blanket.
it is your turn to squeak in protest. peter cackles. he hugs you tightly and the two of you stay like that for a long time.
the rushing blood makes every inch of his skin very warm to the touch, although his teeth continue to chatter. he’s still cold.
what you wouldn't give to banish all the chill forever.
if only there were such a thing as snow that wasn’t cold.
you ask peter what kind of hot drink he would like today. he pauses, his head on your chest.
he doesn’t know. he doesn’t care.
peter avoids the question. he distracts you instead of answering. he makes happy snorting noises and buries his head into your neck. you giggle.
ticklish never described you. you could, however, have your heart tickled pink, and peter was the master of doing such things as that.
he hums a little tune. he’s making it up as he goes. there’s little kisses left on your neck and jaw.
a smile can hardly be contained. this boy gives you so much love. you know you’re in the right place.
peter finally answers the question. he wants hot chocolate. he knows there’s mini marshmallows.
you must not have been as discreet as you thought you were when you last went out to get groceries. the marshmallows were meant to be a surprise.
after you had come home from that outing, you’d had your hands under the heat lamp, the plastic bags under your socked feet, and peter wrapped around your waist.
peter is a rascal, he is. you hardly have the words to scold him, though. his eyes plead with you not to be angry.
the marshmallows were being reserved for marshmallow squares.
the marshmallow squares weren’t for any occasion in particular. you’d just wanted to surprise peter.
when he had the mind, nothing got past him.
usually peter was a regular himbo. nerdy, silly, and completely dumb of ass.
you love him for it.
you ask him for release. you can’t breathe very well. he’s right on top of you. he says he just wants snuggles. you know he’s trying to rid himself of his cold.
you suddenly know what your plants feel like every time the two of you invade their space for the heat lamp.
you pat peter’s head and call him sweet nothings like “bunny,” and “handsome,” and “love of mine.”
he melts, right off of you, and you try to get up.
the water is starting to scream on the stove top.
peter melted, but he has a sticky kind of melt, kind of like a marshmallow. he sticks to you when you stand up.
you have the blanket over your shoulders. he throws it over his head and follows you to the kitchen, head on your back.
he’s holding your hand.
you let him have it. it’s okay. you only need one hand to pull the water off the heat anyway.
you express your happiness to have such a nice little warm house.
peter says that he’s happier to have such a nice little warm sweetheart like you.
you blush.
he steals the blanket from you back. you don’t mind. not anymore. you’re very cozy standing in front of the stove.
you reach the mugs down from the cupboard. none of them match. it’s okay. you set them on the stove next to the pot. you don’t have to jump on the counter anymore. peter had helped move all the mugs to a lower shelf after the first snowfall.
you turn and pull the sugar and the cocoa powder from the spice cupboard. the marshmallows are in the pantry. spoons in the drawer.
you have a tiny sieve you like to use for the cocoa powder.
the sieve kept with the spoons. you put it on the counter next to the spoons.
the milk is last to be brought out. you don’t want to open the fridge. it’s just as cold as outside.
peter leans against the counter. he watches as you bustle around. he starts listing the things he is thankful for besides you.
the snow outside.
the snow fort he made prior to coming inside.
the blanket.
the cats.
the stove.
the water made for the hot chocolate.
the marshmallows he couldn’t wait to have in his drink.
you again.
you say that you’re thankful for the heat lamp.
peter agrees.
he pauses.
you glance up at him as you sift the cocoa powder. he seems deep in thought. you smile at him. he catches it.
he asks if you love the heat lamp.
you say very much. especially at this time of year.
not more than him, though. you make sure to let him know.
peter laughs. he knows.
he pauses again.
you sift the sugar.
peter pushes away from the counter and comes to lean on the edge of the stove. he’s closer to you that way.
he was wondering what it would be like if there were such a thing as a human-sized heat lamp.
you tell him that you had just been wondering the same thing. peter smiles.
sometimes the two of you are on the same train of thought at the same time.
peter watches as you pour a very little bit of milk into the mugs.
you hand him the blue mug with snowflakes on it. you take the white one with red stripes and yellow polka dots. you tell him to stir the cocoa and sugar into the milk until it isn’t clumpy anymore. he complies.
as soon as you’ve finished stirring, you add hot water to your mug. peter still hasn’t caught up yet. you wait for him.
he looks up and makes eye contact, still stirring. you ask him if he wants help. he raises his eyebrows.
he says that if you had added the hot water to the cocoa first, instead of milk, it wouldn’t have clumped up. it would have dissolved quickly. made it easier to stir.
you don’t make hot chocolate as often as you should. peter is right.
noted.
one spoon of cocoa, three spoons of sugar, hot water, milk, marshmallows.
he manages to stir out all the lumps. he pours his own hot water and adds more milk.
you remember that there’s a can of whipped cream in the fridge. it was next to the milk.
peter says that nutmeg and cinnamon would be nice in the hot chocolate.
you brace to open the fridge. it’s still cold. the whipped cream is obtained quickly. you knock something over in the door as it’s slammed shut.
neither of you care.
you contemplate whether or not you should use whipped cream or marshmallows. peter is nosing through the spice cupboard.
when he sees the can in your hand, he asks if he should use whipped cream or have marshmallows. you smile.
why not both?
you both find ourselves back on the couch. the cats have joined you. there’s only two cats. one sits in peter’s lap. the other is perched on your knees.
peter has a moustache of whipped cream, and a little bit of a beard as well. he had dipped his chin in his drink by accident when he looked down at the cat as it climbed in his lap.
peter looks pointedly at you. he gestures to the cat in his lap. he wishes that it was you. that’s where you should be.
you laugh.
you decide that you’ve always been a dog person at heart.
peter was thinking about getting another kitten.
do you ever think, you say to him, that while the heat lamp can never be replaced...
you pause and wave all around the room. you point to the window, the pitch black night, the white snowflakes that stick to the window. you point to the carpet, the coffee table, the bag of mini marshmallows in your hoodie pocket. you point to the mugs, and the cats, and you finally land your hand on his heart.
this kind of warmth is even more invaluable? it's magic.
peter moves to kiss you. his lips land on the tip of your nose. the cat protests as it’s squished in his lap.
you both laugh.
i’d take you over the heat lamp. any day. any weather. he tells you. you lean towards him. you rest our foreheads together. there’s a reason i’m thankful for you.
you love him.
you keep my hands warm. i love when you take care of me like this.
you love it, too.
even if we’re in the middle of a blizzard and my limbs freeze and fall off, you still keep my heart warm.
you give peter a kiss on the cheek and say, better than any heat lamp could.
you laugh and snuggle over your drinks. the cold can’t get to you.
#the heat lamp#peter parker mcu#peter parker imagine#gn!reader#gn!reader x peter parker#peter parker x you#peter parker x reader#peter parker fluff#fluff
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Matthew's Childhood Headcanons
I've been thinking about Matt's Childhood a lot so headcanons.
He was very sickly as a child up until his , constantly catching colds and other illnesses. Francis wasn't good with dealing with illnesses leaving most of the house staff to care for little Matthew. Then Alastair showed up and took over that duty.
Though Arthur wasn't the best father until after the Revolutionary war, he still put everything on hold when Matthew got sick. Even if he was scheduled to leave, if Matt got sick, Arthur cancelled all plans a did his best to be there for him.
There was a lot of fighting between Arthur and Alastair as they tried to raise Mattie. Allie called Arthur out on his bullshit and how he couldn't leave both Matt and Al for the long periods of time like he was. Arthur chose to ignore or bite back that Allie wasn't exactly there for him when Arthur was little.
Poor Mattie hears all of this and blames himself for making his dad and uncle mad. He fails to realize there has been tension between the two for years and that it's actually Arthur's parenting that has added to the tension. But when Matthew runs away after a particularly bad fight, Arthur and Allie figure they needed to be more careful with their anger towards each other.
Mattie had always been anxious kid, made worse when Francis left and now even worse because he feels responsible for Arthur and Allie's fights. So he's always on his best behaviour, acting as the perfect son so they'll be happy and so they won't leave like Francis did
Arthur worries about how sensitive Matthew is. He reminds him of how he was as a child. A bit of a crybaby, preferring animals to people, losing himself in nature, very sensitive and wearing his heart on his sleeve. The world has broken Arthur down until he became steeled, pushing down his emotions until only anger or cockiness was left. He fears the same will happen to Matthew. He's left wondering if he should let Matthew go on like this for as long as he can or be the one to teach him how the world isn't too kind to a soft heart like his.
With Matt's Childhood trauma out of the way, let's get some more cute fluff
He loves nature and exploring the forest near his primary home. He often finds many things he finds cool and is eager to show them to Alastair and Arthur
Alastair was the one to teach Matthew to ride horses
Matthew thinks Arthur is the best storyteller. Even in his adult years.
He also loves Arthur's lullabies and sometimes, when times get rough in his adult life, he turns to Arthur and his lullabies to put him at ease.
Arthur has made him so many stuffed animals. Alfred got a few, but he was much more into the wooden toys Arthur made while Mattie took to the stuffed animals so he got a bunch. And Matthew still has almost all of them to this day.
Allie and Arthur taking Matt ice skating every winter 🥺🥺🥺
Arthur taught Matt how to knit. Though he prefers the sweaters, mitts and hats his father makes, Matthew still likes to make scarves and other little knit wear for his loved ones from time to time
As soon as Matthew hit his teens, he took over cooking because he was not about to let Allie or Arthur cook because they were both terrible. During this time, he has a bitter sweet relationship with cooking since it was something him and Francis used to do together (at this point the two hadn't made up after Francis left him), but again, his uncle and dad's terrible cooking. But also, he is able to make the recipes his own as well as make new ones.
Though he calls Alastair uncle, Matt still sees him as a father figure and in turn Allie sees him as his son. But neither say it vocally.
Matthew's favourite memory with Arthur is when he was around 7 or so physically and Arthur had taken him out for a walk in the woods nearby and stopped for a picnic lunch and some reading in a nearby clearing. They spent the whole afternoon there, just the two of them. It was one of the few times they got to do something like that just the two of them.
Matthew's favourite memory with Alastair... Hmmm that's a tough one. He has many because Allie did everything to make him smile. But if he had to choose, he'd say the day he met Alastair. It was like love at first sight but in the familial sense. Allie had found him out in the woods of what would be Nova Scotia. Mattie had wandered off from his and Francis's house and had gotten lost eventually ending up near Allie's home in the new settlement. Alastair didn't hesitate to take him in. It was nice to live with Allie, he was very hands on in dealing with Matt, letting him play in the dirt, letting the boy take him on walks in the forest and a bunch of stuff Francis didn't let him do since nature and dirt was unbecoming to him.
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24 days of Christmas: Marmalade
Thanks to @gravitymikanheart on tumblr for the prompts that had to do with family! Hope you enjoy :)
rominaluchetta/Pixabay
“Ha-CHO!”
Nami fought to suppress a giggle, but as with many fights in her life, it was in vain. But who could really blame her?
Law was unfairly cute with a dusting of flour in his hair and a dollop of icing smudged on his nose. Not even the sour look he threw her way could mitigate her mirth.
“Shouldn’t you keep your eyes on your pot?” Law’s voice was acerbic as he tried to brush away some of the icing sugar.
The sudden onslaught of burnt citrus made Nami swear, put on oven mitts and snatch away the overflowing pot from the hob, resolutely ignoring Law’s snicker.
“Crap.” Nami peered at the congealed mass clinging to the sides of the pot, beautiful shades of dark brown and deepest black mingling with crunchy bits and bobs. “Oh well. Luckily, we have enough tangerines for another batch.”
“Tangerine marmalade just sounds wrong.” Law grimaced as he measured a spoonful of cardamom into his bowl, spatula clattering against the edge.
“Says the man who thinks plum pudding is the best thing since sliced bread,” Nami scoffed, peeling another tangerine, careful to separate zest from pith.
“Plum pudding is the best thing ever. Sliced bread should just cease to exist.”
“I thought you detested plums.”
Law measured out the dough in even rows, each measured to flow out a perfect amount not to merge into a single, huge tray-cookie, but rather to maximize the space use when placed in the oven. “Fermented plums. Plum pudding, on the other hand…”
“Every now and then I question your judgment. This is one of those situations.”
“And yet here you are, baking cookies with me.”
“I am making marmalade. You are baking cookies.”
“And good thing I am, after the catastrophe of your swordsman.”
“You shouldn’t have sent Zoro to do the shopping, not if you have special requests.” Nami was unsympathetic towards such rookie mistakes. “At least he got the right kind of gluten free flour the third time around.”
Law merely scoffed and bent down to put the tray of finished cookies in the oven.
Nami was not looking at his very shapely arse, straining against his jeans with the movement.
She knew he knew what she had been doing by the satisfied smirk gracing his features as he righted himself.
“Why are you making marmalade? You don’t seem like the most avid kitchener?” Law asked, starting to clean up after himself.
“I happen to be a very good cook,” said Nami, nose in the air as she stirred her pot anew.
Law raised an incredulous brow. The effect was, however, somewhat lessened by the icing still on his nose.
Nami should probably tell him about it.
At some point.
“It was me who fed this crew before Sanji turned up, you know.”
“And what a price they paid.”
“Oh, yes, they did. Zoro’s still paying it off,” Nami said with a smirk.
“You are a cold-blooded witch.”
“And that’s why you like me.”
“A reason among others,” Law agreed. “But marmalade? Seems a bit complicated, though?” Nami could tell he wouldn’t give up, the change back to their previous topic was evidence enough. And the curiosity in Law’s voice was real; Nami could feel the weight of his full focus on her.
And so she pondered the answer.
The golden concoction in her pot had thickened enough to cling to the spatula. Fragrant smells mingled around her, the earlier tones of charcoal and scorched sugar dissolved into the Sunny’s efficient kitchen fan.
She could almost hear Nojiko’s laugh woven into the rich aroma, feeling the warmth of a pair of strong arms around her when Bell-mère taught her to stir the marmalade in even arcs before the boil.
“When I was small,” she said, “we didn’t have much.”
The hadn’t had much. It was only later, when she really thought about it, that she realised how little they had actually made do with.
Nami swallowed, following a bubble rising to the top. The marmalade would soon start to boil. “But when the seasons changed, when the year neared its end, my mother always made sure we had a feast.”
The really hadn’t had much. But Bell-mère had always, always made it so much more. When they didn’t have firewood, they camped in the kitchen, building a fort out of pillows and mattresses. It was great when they got to eat pancakes and it was only latter when Nami realised how cheap the ingredients for that was. Hand-me downs were always tailored and changed and made so much more than the patched things they started out as.
But once a year, there had been a feast, with rich foods and pudding. And snacks and gingerbread and marmalade.
“And I was responsible for making the marmalade.”
It was only when she felt Law wrap his arms around her and leaned his head against her temple she realised the stinging in her eyes and wet tracks on her cheeks. The marmalade was bubbling along nicely now, the thermometer showing a steady, perfect temperature.
Nami exhaled, feeling the tension she hadn’t even noticed leave her bones. “And it’s a good thing I’ve kept it up all these years,” she continued with a tremulant smile, brushing the tears away. “Else we wouldn’t have anything to eat with your cookies.”
Law’s laugh was a pleasant rumble in her back, his arms tightening around her for a breath.
Nami leaned back in his embrace, enjoying the moment of silence.
“Cora taught me the recipe,” Law said, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s been ages since I tried to do them.”
Nami squeezed his arms, still locked around her, smiling gently up at him.
“Come on. Let’s get some tea and enjoy the fruits of our labours.”
AO3
ff.net
#24 days of christmas#lawna#law x nami#holiday bonanza#my writing#marmalade#making marmalade#cookies#creating cookies#food as an expression of love
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Puffed Cheeks and Creamy Smiles
~Chef Saltbaker's Famous Cream Puffs~
The sign in front clearly displayed the return of a favorite pastry in yellow chalk, letters soft, yet professional. Perfect for such a sunny day where the sun itself gave a bright smile down to everyone in town.
Chalice, who was as cheery as ever, returned the smile back to him and to everyone who met her glance. They couldn't help but grin back, some beaming so big, their teeth peering through.
Yes, no one could frown with Chalice around. And yet… the sign that had Chalice's eyes became competition. She LOVED Saltbaker's cream puffs! So creamy and puffy!
Eagerly, she opened the door, the bell ringing, signalling a customer arrived.
"Coming!" called a voice from behind the doors. Patiently, Chalice sat herself by the island, whistling a tune and kicking her legs happily. Recognizing the tune, Saltbaker came out, not looking up yet as he had a tray of cookies in his mitts.
"Hello Chalice!" he greeted her with a smile finally as he put the cookies in the shelves. They smelled so good, looked so plump, and oh so chocolatey! Chalice wondered if she really wanted some cookies or a cream puff, but she knew her stomach was begging for the later.
"Hello, Chef!" she waved, wiggling her fingers as she did so. "I saw the sign outside! Golly, do you really have your cream puffs back again!?"
"That, I do, Chalice, that, I do!" he answered. "I'm filling them right now! I… don't suppose you want to see how I do so?"
"Oh, I do!" she erratically nodded.
With a swing of the stool, she spun around in it and plopped on the floor, her heels clacking on the hard floor. She went to the kitchen in the back, looking around.
The counters were full of ingredients, already everything being a mess. Some stained aprons hung on the wall, ovens blazing and custard and creams in the ice box. It was a glorious sight…!
He led her to a baking pan with cooled puffs, already golden brown. She picked her lips in hunger and excitement, but felt Chef hold her back.
"Now, let's see," he started as he held up a large piping back full of vanilla white custard. "You can't go TOO hard and there is such a thing as too much cream…!"
"I don't believe so," Chalice giggles, half joking, half serious. This earned a chuckle from the big man who cradled the bag, squeezing in the cream gently. It filled the puffed pastry until he knew it was enough, ending the squirt with a final twirl. Chef added some powdered sugar on top and voila! There was a beautiful cream puff before her!
"And there we have it!"
"Oh it's beautiful!" Chalice clasped her hands. She tried reaching for it, but suddenly felt something poke her side. She squealed, looking down to see a wooden spoon being held by SaltBaker.
"Now now, you must wait," he wagged the spoon at her, threatening to poke her again. With a giggle, she nodded and Saltbaker went back to filling the puffs. When she thought he was distracted, she tried reaching for the same puff when she felt another poke.
"Eeheep! H-how did you know…!?" she gave a pout.
"I know you," he answered as plain as that. She huffed and leaned on the counter with her chin, looking at the glamorous pastry in front of her. It was BEGGING to let her taste. Let her take a bite and be covered in custard…!
When he finished piping half the tray, SaltBaker put the bag down. Chalice, beaming, saw her chance.
With one movement, she took her hand and squished at his side. He yelped and snorted out, waving his hand at her. "H-hehehey!"
"You gonna let me have it now?" she asked in the most innocent tone she could muster. She even held her hands under her chin and swayed side to side.
"Noho…!" he shook his head with a smile. "You need to be patient…!"
"I've been patient…!" she stomped her heel. He offered a shrug of half sympathy, reaching for the bag. She studied him a little, then got an idea she thought would be brilliant and work to her liking. "Then I'll have something JUST as sweet!"
Before he could ask, a quizzical glance was met with Chalice grabbing both of bis sides and squeezing. Another snort enveloped into laughter as he couldn't help but hunch over slightly.
"Chahahahalice I'm wohohorking!"
"Aw, boo! Should have thought of that when you allowed me back here!"
She kneaded up and down his sides, creating different pitches of squeals and laughs. "I'm making bread like you, Chef! Only this bread might be too sweet with all your laughter!"
"Chahahalice! EEEEHEEEE!! Nohoho stahahaHEEHAAHAHAAP!!"
He squirmed in place, eventually facing her, which gave her all the invitation to his big chef belly. She ran her wiggling fingers all over, which made the poor chef fall over on the floor. Chalice took this chance to climb on top of him and shove her arms under his arms. The scream that came from chef was GLORIOUS.
"AAAAYEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEEEE!!! NOHOHOHO NAHAHAHAT THERE HAHAHAHAAAAA!!! S-STOHOHOHOP NOHOHOHO!!"
"Mmmm depends! Can I have a pastry now?"
"Y-YOOHOOHOOU HAHAHAA!! CAN HAHAHAVE A COOHOOHOOHOOKIE!!"
"Aww what a shame, chef! You would've gotten out of THIS too!"
He opened one eye to see her bowl a raspberry into his neck. He flailed his arms about, legs kicking, tears starting to form at the ends of his eyes.
She giggled at his reaction of absolute ticklish joy and was about to blow another when two large hands grabbed at her.
"Nohoo…!" he sputtered. "N-nohow I told you no…! But since you want to play that game… let's play!"
Chalice didn't have a change to beg as he put her on the ground gently and prodded her sides and belly like he was testing ingredients.
"Ohoho nohohoho!! Chehehehef I'm sorreeheeheehee!"
"Now now, you should have thought your plan out… BATTER!"
Oh the jokes. Oh the bakery dad jokes. Usually, Chalice would cringe at these, but for SOME reason, she was laughing at them! Maybe the fingers pinching at her ribs was a helping hand with that, but who knows?
"Th-thahahahat's so bahahahahad!!" she squealed, trying to push away his hands. They were so slick, however, it was hard to even get a grip.
"Well if you hadn't tried that "whisk"y stunt, you wouldn't have to hear my amazing jokes, now would you?"
"Chehehahahahahaf!!"
"What is that term you kiddos use? Your laughter is my JAM?"
He tweaked his fingers under her arms, now, making her squeeze her arms on his hands, which only trapped them there for him to tickle more.
"NOHOHO MOHOHOHOOORE!"
"Awww you're laughter is so contagious, you're gonna BAKE me laugh along!"
With one final flutter of his fingers to her neck, he let her go, making her wheeze on the floor, giggling and still holding herself.
With a smile, he took the cream puff and offered it.
"H… huh…? Really…?"
"You were patient," he nodded with a smile. "The cream just had to set…!"
She gasped in and took it, about to take a bite… then looked at him.
"... You ever tried your own cream puffs?"
"Oh, hmm," he rubbed his chin. "Golly, it's been a little while."
With that, Chalice happily split up the puff and offered it. Saltbaker looked at the piece in her hand, then, with a grin, took it and happily ate with her, enjoying his break.
Yes, no one could make anyone smile like Chalice does. That, and Chef Saltbaker's Famous Cream Puffs.
#cuphead delicious last course#cuphead#ms chalice#chef saltbaker#baking puns#like so much#love baking puns
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A Bakugou Thanksgiving (One Shot)
Bakugou x Reader
Warnings : Language (From Bakugou of course).
When you originally had the bright idea for you and Katsuki to host thanksgiving this year you had the perfect night planned out.
You see you were American and had moved to Japan back when you were a teenager, but you still loved to celebrate a american traditional thanksgiving.
And this year you had convinced your husband Katsuki to invite his friends and family over so you both could host thanksgiving this year.
“I don’t understand why they have to come.” He mumbled referring to his former classmates.
“Because it’s thanksgiving Kats, and come one, come all.” You smiled stirring some cake mix in a bowl.
Bakugou frowned, “Aren’t the old hag and my dad enough?”
“Kats, stop complaining and open the oven for I can put the cake in.” You instructed.
He mumbled something, but obeyed your command and opened the oven door.
You put the cake in the oven above the roasting turkey.
Everything was shaping up to be really good, you had cooked all of the american dishes and you had Bakugou cook some of the traditional japanese meals and you thought it would be a great melting pot of dishes that everyone could enjoy.
You however frowned at one of the dishes that bakugou had made in particular knowing good and well the only one who was going to be able to consume that was him.
“Really babe, spicy ramen topped with…Oh God is that ghost peppers??” You almost gagged.
“Hey those extras need some spice in their life.” He smirked.
“You trying to send our guest to the hospital?!” You frowned wacking him playfully on the head with the wooden spoon you used to stir the cake batter.
“Ow, Damn woman!” He hissed.
“Put that in the fridge, people can request that on their own if they want it.” You said.
“Fine, God I swear you get more and more like that hag everyday.” He mumbled taking the ramen and putting it in the fridge.
The door bell suddenly rang and you smiled knowing that your first few guests had arrived. You quickly took off your oven mitts and tossed them unbeknownst to you a little to close to the stove.
You raced to the door Bakugou slowly trailing behind you with hands in his pockets.
You opened the door and was immediately greeted by Bakugou’s parents.
“Hi y/n! Oh don’t you look good!” Mitsuki smiled pulling you into a hug.
“Hello Mitsuki, Masaru.” You smiled greeting your in laws.
“We brought some wine.” Mitsuki winked ushering to her husband who was carrying two bottles.
“Great come on in, you can set them on the table here.” You said gesturing to the dining room table.
“Wow it smells delicious in here.” Masaru commented.
“Yes well me and Katsuki have spent all day cooking.” You said taking both of their coats and hanging them up.
“Ah great, put that man to work!” Mitsuki beamed ruffling her sons hair gaining a deep frown from Katsuki.
“Cut it out you hag!” Katsuki spit moving away from her.
“Hey, this is a special day, show your parents some respect!” You frowned.
“God I love your wife!” Mitsuki cried.
Masaru just softly smiled shaking his head.
The door bell suddenly rang again.
“Oh that must be everyone else, Mitsuki, Masaru, please take a seat, dinner should be ready really soon.” You said hurrying to the door. “Babe can you go into the garage and get some ice?” You asked gaining a grunt and a nod from Katuski.
“Least I can avoid those idiots for a few moments.” Katsuki said heading towards the garage.
You shook your head at your husband behavior and quickly went to answer the door.
You opened the door and was greeted with a harmonious “Happy Thanksgiving!” Everyone shouted.
You smiled looking at your Class 1 A friends.
“Hey everyone come on in!” You said widening the door and giving everyone the room to enter.
“Wow it smells so good!” Uraraka beamed.
“Great I didn’t eat particularly for today!” Kaminari boasted.
“Really dude?” Kirishima asked the blonde.
“Okay I might’ve snuck a burger.” Kaminari admitted.
“Try 2 burgers and a fry.” Jirou cut in.
“Babe, you really gonna sell me out like that!?” Kaminari whined looking at his wife Jirou with a look of complete betrayal.
“He’s never had American thanksgiving food, so he wanted to make sure he ate before he came.” Jirou continued.
“BABE!”
You laughed, “Well your gonna regret that, because trust me, this food is going to be amazing!” You said proudly.
“I’m sure it’ll be great y/n.” Izuku said smiling bright.
“I brought some jello shots!” Mina said holding up the container they were in.
“Great set it on the dining table.” You said ushering to the dining room.
“I brought ice.” Todoroki said.
“Yes we could always use that, thank you so much Todoroki!” You said, “The garage is right through that door, you can put it in the cooler we have back there.” You said.
Todoroki nodded going to put away the extra ice.
“I brought extra utensils.” Iida said.
“Great those can go in the kitchen.” You smiled.
Iida nodded and went to go set them away while Uraraka Momo, and Mina came up to you smiling.
“So where’s Mr. Hot head?” Mina asked looking around.
You laughed at the nick name Mina still used for him after all these years, Bakugou had calmed down significantly since your high schools days, but the man still of course had his moments.
“He went to go get some ice for our drinks, he’s probably run into Todoroki.” You laughed.
“OI ICY HOT-DON’T SET THAT SHIT THERE!” You could Katsuki yell all the way from the garage.
You, Mina, Uraraka, and Momo all laughed.
Soon Katsuki was storming back inside with Todoroki trailing behind him.
You could see the annoyance all over your husbands face, but you were the only one who knew deep down that your husband really did love his friends.
“I got the ice.” Katsuki said coming up to you.
“Good, now we can get the drinks served, the food should be about ready!” You smiled. “If you all could take your seats in the dining room, Bakugou will get the drinks ready.”
Everyone nodded and made their ways to the dining room with Bakugou’s parents. Everyone was seated and chatting while Katsuki looked as he struggled to open a bottle of champagne.
“Damnit.” Bakugou muttered.
“What’s wrong bakubro?” Kiri said noticing his friends distress.
“Can’t get the damn champagne open.” Bakugou hissed.
“Oh don’t worry, I know a trick!” Kaminari said overhearing the conversation and deciding this was his time to shine.
Kaminari quicked snatched the bottle from Bakugou, tilted the bottle at a 45 degree angle, thumbed the cork handle and immediately trying to open it.
To no avail.
It would not open.
“Damn.” Kaminari hissed struggling.
“See, dunce face.” Bakugou taunted smirking slightly that he wasn’t able to get it either.
“Hang on, I’ll get it!” He grunted trying again.
Next thing everyone knew a loud pop echoed the room, the cork flying immediately out of the champagne bottle at the absolute speed of light.
Before anyone could see where it had went the next thing they heard was a loud..
“AHGGG MY EYE!”
“Oh my God!” You yelled seeing Iida hunched over grabbing his eye.
You quickly raced over to Iida who was hunched over. He had gotten smacked right in the eye with the cork, luckily he had been wearing contacts so there was no glass shattering in his eyes.
Yet his eye was already beginning to swell.
“Good thing I brought that ice..” Todoroki noted.
“I’ll go grab it.” Mitsuki said springing up from the table in full mom mode.
“Oh Iida are you okay!?” Uraraka said rubbing her friends shoulder.
“I’m fine, i’m fine.” Iida assured.
“I am so sorry man.” Kaminari frowned completely guilt written.
“It’s fine really.” Iida said.
You frowned not liking the way this was starting off at all, you sighed waiting for Mitsuki to come back with the ice for Iida’s eye before you went to check on the turkey and cake.
The food was soon ready and you and Bakugou brought out the main course and the rest of the sides and set everything on the table.
“Wow this looks amazing Y/n!” Kirishima smiled.
“Bakugou did you cook the Japanese foods?” Momo asked.
“Yup, everything else was Y/N.” He said looking over at you with that prideful look that always managed to make your heart skip beats.
“Uhg I wish I could cook like this.” Jirou said.
“Me too.” Kaminari mumbled gaining a hard elbow in the side from Jirou.
Everyone at the table laughed, everyone began passing around dishes to put on their plates when you realized you forgot to take cranberry sauce out of the fridge.
“Oh God, I forgot the cranberry sauce, I'll go get it.” You said about to get up but Kirishima suddenly dropped his fork.
“Ah, don’t worry about it Y/N, I gotta get up anyway to grab another fork, its in the fridge right?” He asked standing up from his chair.
“Yes it’s in a clear dish with aluminum foil on top.” You said.
He nodded going into the kitchen.
-
Kirishima looks around the kitchen for the extra utensils, he finds them and grabs another fork, he then goes into the fridge and looks for the cranberry sauce, he finds a clear dish with aluminum foil and grabs that. He then notices another full dish of what looks like ramen.
“Y/N must’ve forgot this too.” He says taking the dish out too.
-
Kirishima comes back to the table and places the cranberry sauce and ramen down unbeknowst to Y/N who was in a deep conversation with Uraraka and Deku’s about his sudden proposal a few months back.
“I know I was so stunned, I’ll send you the details when I figure out what kind of bridesmaid dresses I wants all you ladies to wear.” Uraraka assured while Deku sat next to her blushing.
“About time you proposed you damn nerd.” Bakugou laughed. “Thought round cheeks was about to do it for you.”
Deku awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his head, “Y/N this food is delicious, what do you call this?” He asked pointing to the stuffing.
“Ah that’s good ol stuffing, no Turkey dinner is complete without it, it’s a must in a traditional thanksgiving.” You said brightly.
“It’s so good!” Midoriya smiled eating another spoonful.
You smiled happy that everyone seemed to be enjoying the meal.
“Midoriya is absolutely right Y/N this Turkey is delicious, i’ve only ever eaten it once when I was at a fashion banquet in the states.” Mitsuki said.
“I’m so glad you like it.” You smiled.
Everyone was eating and chatting and you thought that despite the rough beginning maybe everything would turn out okay, that was until all of a sudden you saw Midoriya’s face begin to turn red.
“Honey, are you alright?” Uraraka said looking over at her fiance who had tears in his eyes as he began coughing.
“I-It’s -cough- v-very- cough- spicy!!” Midoriya said between coughing and tears.
“What? I didn’t have anything spicy on the table Midoriya.” You said immediately getting up and looking at his plate only for your eyes to widen in shock.
“KATSUKI I TOLD YOU NOT TO PUT THAT SPICY RAMEN OUT HERE!” You yelled absolutely pissed.
Bakugou immediately dropped his fork at the sound of your angry tone that he often found secretly attractive, yet this time the look you were giving with that voice was sending actual chills through his body.
“I didn’t!” He argued.
“Then why is it on the table!?” You said gesturing to the dish.
Next thing you knew most of your guest were at the table coughing and choking.
“Oh-Oh my God, Water!” Kirishima gagged.
“W-w-cough- where’s the ice!?” Jirou choked out.
“Good thing I brought that ice.” Todoroki noted.
‘BAKUGOU KATSUKI, GO GET THE ICE!” You yelled angrily as you watched your husband trying to suppress his laughter at the sight of Deku’s red face brimming with tears as Uraraka quickly handed him her drink and rubbed his back in comfort.
“Son tell me you don’t - cough- eat this everyday!” Masaru choked.
“Uhg it’s not even that spicy you wimps!” He groaned getting up from the table to get the ice and some cups to put them in.
You heard the doorbell ring as you assured your coughing and choking guest that Bakugou would be back with the ice soon.
You answered the door in a sheer panic completely devastated with the way this night was going.
You opened the door the find Aizawa and Eri.
“Happy Thanksgiving!!” A now teenage Eri shouted as she then turned to her adoptive father Aizawa. “Did I get it right this time?”
Aizawa simply gave her a small smile and a thumbs up.
“Thank you Eri.” You said.
“Sorry we’re late.” Aizawa said. “ We didn’t know what to bring.” He said holding up some fresh bread from the local bakery.
“It’s wonderful thanks.” You said taking the bread trying to ignore the coughs and hacking behind you.
You could instantly see the look of complete shock as they began to look past you and into the dining room. Where by this time Kaminari was completely on the floor in a fetal position, and Todoroki was about 2 seconds away from using his quirk and shoving hand down Kaminari’s throat.
“Is that a thanksgiving tradition?” Eri asked beginning to fake cough and gag.
You immediately face palmed looking at the sheer irritated look on you former teachers face.
“No. It’s not at all.” You admitted. “There was a little mix up with the food, and they ate something too spicy.” You said.
‘OH STOP CRYING YOU BIG BABY!” Katsuki growled at Kirishima who at this time had taken off his shirt and was fanning himself with a napkin.
“Oh my God the ice is making it worse!” Mina cried.
You were completely embarrassed at this point and you honestly didn’t know what to say, this night was shaping up to be a complete disaster. The only thing that could save you now was maybe the cake you had made.
You guided Eri and Aizawa to the dining table as everyone tried to cool their tongues off and continued eating. You went to go grab the cake and searched through your freezer for some ice cream to help cool them off just a little bit.
You only had half a carton of ice cream left so you scooped everybody and little glass cup full and ushered that out with the cake.
Everyone immediately began digging into the small amount of ice cream that you served them along with the cake and you sighed happy that the night was just about over until-
“Do you smell something burning?” Momo said.
You and Katsuki both sniffed the air until you both realized it was coming from the kitchen, you both shot up out of your chairs to the kitchen only to see that your entire kitchen was up in flames.
“OH MY GOD!” You cried in horror.
“Shit!” Katsuki cursed looking around for some water only to find nothing that’s when he immediately yelled for Todoroki.
“TODOROKI GET YOUR ICY HOT ASS IN HERE AND PUT OUT OUR KITCHEN!” Bakugou yelled watching as you tried to fan the flames down but it was way too much.
Todoroki along with everyone else entered the kitchen and immediately coughed taking in the black smoke.
“Oh my goodness!” Uraraka cried.
“Stand back everyone!” Todoroki calmly said.
You and Bakugou immediately backed up with everyone else as Todoroki immediately used his ice powers and slowly began to put out the flames.
Once he was done the kitchen was frozen and burnt and everyone was completely silent as you stepped forward looking at the remains of what was once your kitchen.
"Good thing I'm literally ice." Todoroki noted.
“Y/n.” Bakugou said softly knowing exactly what was going through your head.
You shook your head, running a shaky hand through your hair, as you tried to contain your emotions.
“Sweetie.” Mitsuki said stepping closer to you.
You shook your head and turned around to face everyone, you immediately bowed your head and said.
“I’m sorry I ruined thanksgiving, thank you all for coming, good night.” You said shakily as you immediately ran out the kitchen and upstairs to your bedroom slamming the door behind you.
You immediately flopped on the bed and began crying. All of your hard work, all of the planning, had completely gone down the drain. You had never celebrated thanksgiving with your friends or Bakugou’s family and this was going to be the night you all laughed, ate, and drank and overall had a good time. But that was impossible now. Iida had gotten a black eye, half of your guest nearly died of extreme heat, and to top it off your kitchen had caught on fire.
No one was ever going to want to try thanksgiving ever again.
You heard a soft knock outside the door and you already knew who it would be so you didn’t bother saying anything, he was coming in anyway.
“Babe, you alright?" His voice was concerned.
You said nothing.
He sighed shutting the door behind him and making the way you the two of you’s shared bed.
You felt his warm hands caress your back and that only made you cry harder.
“I wanted this night to be perfect suki.” You cried.
“It’s not your fault hon’ if anyone’s to blame for this, it’s probably me.” He said catching you completely off guard.
You looked up from you pillow and you saw his eyes flicker with guilt at the sight of your tear stained face, smudged with eyeliner and mascara.
“Why?” You asked.
“I mean I didn’t exactly make this easy for you, I basically complained the whole night and then I made that really kick ass ramen dish that only the toughest people can withstand.” He said in that usual cocky tone that you’d grown to love over time. But you could tell he was also genuinely apologizing for his behavior.
“It’s not your fault.” You sighed sitting up and directly facing him. “I guess i’m just not all that good at throwing thanksgiving parties.” You frowned.
“Hon’ you didn’t do anything wrong, matter of fact, you did everything right, the old hag and my dad couldn’t stop talking about how good the Turkey was, dunce face loved the cake, Kirishima and Deku both got seconds and thirds of the stuffing, and i’m pretty sure none of those mashed potatoes are left.” He said.
“Really?” You smiled happy to hear they enjoyed the food.
“Really.” He assured.
He sighed, “Look y/n you just wanted everyone to come together and have a good time, I should’ve been more understanding of that, you haven’t celebrated a thanksgiving since your parents died a few years back and I should’ve done more to make sure this went off without a hitch, I know how important those american holidays still are to you.” He said squeezing your hand.
“I used to fly back to America every thanksgiving Suki, it was the one time I could really see all my family, now that their gone, I wanted to keep that sentiment going you know?” You explained smiling sadly.
“I know babe, i’m sorry.” He said giving your hand another squeeze as he smiled at you softly.
You loved his smile, he didn’t do it much, but when he did. You swear that smile could light up the entire world if needed.
“It’s okay.” You assured.
“Well, you ready to come back downstairs, everyone is still here.” He said.
You were surprised, “Really they didn’t leave?” You asked.
“No, they were worried about you, plus I think dunce face and shitty hair had something to say to you.” He said.
You cocked an eye brow in confusion but got up and went down stairs anyway.
When you came downstairs everyone was indeed still there chatting quietly among themselves in hushed tones until you finally caught their attention.
“Y/n.” Deku said worriedly.
“Are you okay sweetie?” Mitsuki said.
“Uhg, look you made her cry.” Jirou angrily said at her husband.
Kaminari frowned looking at you sadly, Kirishima didn’t look that happy either as his face looked just as guilt stricken.
“Y/n, this is all our fault.” Kirishima started.
“Yeah, I was the one who hit Iida in the eye with a cork.” Kaminari said looking over at Iida who still had a bag of ice on his eye. “Sorry bro.” Kaminari said to Iida.
“I’ll live.” Iida said dismissing him.
“And I was the one who took that spicy ramen dish out the fridge, I thought you forgot to set it out.” Kirishima admitted.
“So that’s how it got set out, sorry Kats I thought it was you.” You said apologizing to your husband.
“I shouldn’t have made it to begin with.” He said shrugging it off as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
“Okay, but how did the kitchen catch on fire?” Eri asked.
“It looks like this caused it.” Todoroki said holding up a complete torched oven mitt. “I found it by the stove, it must’ve caught on fire since the burner was left on.” He said.
Your eyes widened and soon you felt your face heat in embarrassment, “Looks like that was actually my fault, I was so excited to greet you guys I carelessly tossed my mitts to close to the stove without turning it off.” You admitted.
“Good thing we got that insurance last month.” Katsuki mumbled.
You nodded and then sighed, “I’m really sorry about all of this you guys.” You apologized looking at your friends and family.
“Don’t be, the food was absolutely delicious!” Momo said. “Me and Todoroki were gonna fix some plates to go if that’s okay?” She asked.
“Really, but i’m sure you have amazing food already at your house with your cooks and all.” You said taken aback.
“Not like this.” Momo assured.
“She’s right Y/n, we truly all had a good time really.” Uraraka said smiling.
“Who say’s the parties over? Isn’t their usually games at holiday parties?” Eri asked.
“Please don’t encourage them.” Aizawa groaned knowing where this was headed.
“OH SHE’S RIGHT!! LET’S PLAY CHARADES!” Kaminari yelled. “Eri who am I?”
Kaminari immediately grabbed a blanket that was on the couch and wrapped it around his neck and then held his hair up with his hands as he glared diretly at Eri with wild eyes.
“Aizawa!” Eri exclaimed.
Aizawa groaned and rolled his eyes, these kids were full adults and yet they still acted like children.
“Right!” Kaminari laughed.
You laughed as well as everyone suddenly joined in on the game much to Aizawa and Katsuki’s chagrin.
As you all sat on the couch watching Kirishima rolled around on the floor imitating his best impersonation of what you thought could only be a dog as Mina laughed uncontrollably, you felt red eyes staring at you. You smiled at Katsuki shooting him a thumbs up, thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thanksgiving after all.
-
Hey you guy’s happy thanksgiving!! Decided to do a cute little imagine, I don’t really know if they do thanksgiving in other parts of the world, like their own version or not? So I just assumed they probably didn’t know what traditional American thanksgiving food tasted like, so I incorporated that into this fic. Anyway I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you all have a great thanksgiving!
#bakugou#katsuki#mha#izuku midoriya#mitsuki bakugou#masaru bakugou#kirishima#kirimina#aizawa#eri mha#uraraka ochako#mha todoroki#fluff#humor#kaminari denki#mina ashido#momo yaoyozoru#bnha iida#jirou mha#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader
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