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velvetmud · 11 months

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ok that pic u reblogged of the polaroid in the wallet -- reader slips a naughty pic into dbf!joel's wallet and he doesn't find it till he's buying a round of beers for you and your dad and nearly chokes. your dad is somewhere between teasing and admonishing "have you got a secret girlfriend?" and "maybe keep that a little more hidden, I know my kid's an adult but she does not need to know about my friend's sex life" all the while you're smirking and Joel's getting redder and redder

yes yes yes !!!based off this nsfw favorite 😵‍💫🥵

warning(s): 18+ themes, age difference, alcohol, spanking(mention), bj(mention), dbf joel (a personal fave)

Joel is laughing at some joke he knows he wouldn’t be laughing at if he were sober. Has to wipe the leftover foam on the corners of his lips from how eagerly he gulped down the last sip of beer waiting at the bottom of his glass.

It goes down his belly nicely—floods Joel with a subtle new sense of confidence from the buzz. Even though it still feels like there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world that’ll loosen him up enough to stare across their booth directly at the girl he’s been fucking every weekend for the past three months along with her own goddamn father, also known as his very own goddamn best friend.

Joel can one hundred percent comprehend how dirty, how sick it is to pursue her in the first place, and to let it get as far as it has. But at some point, he decides there’s no sense sinning only halfway.

If his best friend’s own baby girl, his pride and joy wants to spend her weekends bouncing in his bed and on his cock, then fuck yeah. So be it.

Whenever she gets down on her knees, she’ll suck him dry until he fucking weeps. Yeah. Grown ass man, getting his dick sucked for possibly the five hundredth time in the entirety of his life, but yet still finds himself acting this unstable, this erratic whenever she wets those lips he could kiss all night long, then mumbles something under her breath about how much she craves another taste. Making his libido uncharacteristically wild witnessing her frequent sex drives unravel. The depravity in every touch, every movement.

Like she wouldn’t breathe again unless her lips were wrapped around and sealed like a vacuum around his clothed growing bulge, clawing at his stubborn belt.

It’s gone as far as collecting a neat little album of Polaroids he himself has snapped of her. Whether she poses for him or is too blissfully lost in the moment, he’ll tease her with a taunt of ’say cheese’ before she’s hearing that click and blinks from the quick flash. Bites down her lower lip while he ripped the photograph out right when it printed. She’ll turn her head back and smile towards him with a wicked, devious grin that might as well say I know exactly what this does to you. What I’ve done to you.

His photo collection has grown since they started this arrangement. Half the photos consisted of him showing off the lewd aftermath while his cum oozed between her legs, or the stinging red handprints he’s left on the globes of her ass. Might even be one or two risky ones with their faces captured clear as day, kissing with passion after another round devouring her in his sheets.

Their album of dirty secrets always stays buried under his bed, locked up and secluded from the world. Only coming out from hiding whenever Joel felt like doing a little reminiscing of the times they’ve shared together late in bed at night. Ending him with sticky fingers, a guilty conscience, and his twitchy cock finally giving him a fucking break. It does things to him that no blue pill ever could.

There’s enough spank bank material and physical evidence of all his sins to grant him a one way ticket straight to hell, and Joel has accepted that.

No one else but her knew where the pictures were stored, nor of their mere existence. Each photograph was stashed together in some old vintage tin that looked like it could belong at a grandma’s home to store more innocent contents. Preferably not dirty Polaroid shots of every one of Joel’s fantasies he’s lived out inside his best friend’s daughter.

She was poison, disguised like a pretty piece of candy just dangling right in front of him. Pulls him in like he’s a golden retriever begging its owner on a goddamn leash.

Fuck, it’s time he really stop thinking about that.

He’d been doing a somewhat decent job these past few months so far. Keeping her out of his periphery whenever he spent some time quality guy time with her father in their home. All the while, images of her naked frame above him (on the nights he’d beg her to get on top) feel like they’ve been tattooed to part of his brain, and he nearly has to beg his dick to forget she even exists in the vicinity.

But after getting roped up in their family plans for this Saturday night (against his will), he won’t get to feel those nails drag down his back while she wails underneath him tonight. No—instead of that, he gets to guzzle down as much beer as his gut could handle in his forties to make it through the evening, sandwiched next to both of them at the same fucking time. Fuck.

“Next round’s on me,” Joel announced to the table, hoping the leftover self pity and humiliation will wither away with the more he drank. He gets up from their booth and idly pats the butt pocket of his jeans to feel for his wallet, oblivious as to why her face seems to light up all the sudden in the corner of his eye in some sort of amusement. Like she’s in on some joke that he sure as hell isn’t. Story of his life.

Her eyes dance across his figure, checking him out head to toe the way she does when they’re alone shedding each of their clothes off. How much it makes him long to punish her for doing all of this to him, making him strip down his pre-existing morals of being a good man and a decent friend just to pin her down and make her cum and take the bait.

She slides her empty glass over and simply says, “I’ll take another Cosmo.”

Her dad chimes in, hardly ungluing his eyes from the game glaring on the TV. “Get a side of some fries for us too, Miller. Don’t you know anything about wining and dining?”

Joel sighed and rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore the ridiculous level of irony hidden between the lines in his friend’s jab. Yeah actually, I do. It’s working out great on your daughter. She’ll probably invite herself back to my place tonight, if you aren’t too careful.

“Just come up and order yourselves, for Christ sake.”

The snickering from her dad doesn’t let up as they follow Joel up to the counter. On the way, she pokes him with her fingers in the middle of his back. Knowing there’s likely some scarring still engraved in his skin from her nails last weekend. He shivers just feeling her make even the smallest, shortest contact in public like this. Next to her father like this.

Joel knows his ass is on the line if God forbid they get caught. She had every ounce of power and freedom to turn him to mush at the drop of a goddamn hat, whether she was doing something as innocent and carefree as smiling or bending over.

“One Cosmo, two whiskey’s, neat, and a side of fries.”

He grabs his wallet and flips it open, sliding his ID out of the front pocket (even if he’s to the point of graying) and flashed it towards the bartender. He gives him his total, and before Joel can pay, the other shoe drops.

“Whoa whoa whoa, dude. Who’s the unlucky lady?” her dad laughs, all the sudden pointing downwards at Joel’s wallet in his hands.

His eyes travel down to whatever her dad was so flabbergasted by. It barely takes a split second long of a glance for him realize that he is so very fucked.

And as if he thinks Joel didn’t hear him the first time, didn’t just unknowingly traumatize himself by pointing at a photo of his own daughter’s back while she’s lying in Joel’s bed, and he goes and pesters him some more. “She some secret girlfriend, or what?”

The frog in his throat betrays him, choking on nothing but air while he’s riddled with utter humiliation as he stubbornly yanks his card out to hurry up and pay. Fumbles when he finally gets his receipt and quickly stashed it back. If only his pockets went deep enough.

He looks over at her, baffled by her mischeviously guilty silence, finding how much she’s amused by this, by the risk of being found out.

Joel goes for what he knows.

Deny, deny, deny.

Trying to scoff and laugh at the same time to make it more convincing, he stuffs his receipt in his pockets. “What? No. No, there’s no secret anything, Jesus….”

“What’s wrong, Joel? You feeling okay?“

Right when he thinks he has a sliver of control in the situation, the culprit looks at him with her shit eating grin, knowing he’s suffered at the hands of one of her master plans to get him fucked. Other than lifting her skirt up a little too high at family dinners once in a while, this has to be the most dangerous prank by far.

“Good. Great, actually. Looking forward to that drink.”

“I bet you are.”

Once they’ve been seated and served there’s a noticeably pregnant silence that Joel will overthink about and regret allowing it to have happen for his remaining lifetime.

Her dad attempts to fill the silence that he didn’t understand, luckily blind to any context of what the Polaroid actually was. And God forbid didn’t recognize the panties she owned and wore, or her distinguishable hair splayed out down her naked back.

He thinks he’s being quiet enough to block it out from his daughter’s ears when he whispers, “Look, man, you’re embarrassed. It’s private, I get it. For s’long as I’ve known you you’ve barely ever talked about women. S’just weird to see a naked chick in your wallet outta the blue, you know?”

He downs his whiskey right as it reaches their table, doesn’t let it sit untouched for even a second—as it warms his chest and tingles in his belly, he sees that not-so-innocent face smiling behind her glass.

“Uh-huh. Must be pretty weird.”

And for the cherry on top of all the mortification he’d experienced tonight, right when he thinks it’s come to an end, that he gets a goddamn break from the close calls—her dad opens his mouth to haunt him yet again.

“Maybe keep your little trophies a little more hidden next time. I know my kid’s an adult and all, but she does not need to know about my buddy’s sex life.”

thank you for the love and kindness and support:)it means more than you know

masterlist + buy me a ko-fi

#joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #tlou fanfic #the last of us smut #dbf joel miller #joel miller/reader #ask #anon

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travelingthief · 6 months

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Dionysus Offerings/Devotional Acts

There'll be NSFW themes as he is the god of wine and ecstasy!

Offerings

Wine/Intoxication

Alcohol, specifically wine

Grapes

Wine corks

Wine glasses

Shot glasses

Goblets

Corkscrews

Sparkling cider

Grape flavored things

Cheese

Weed/hallucenigens

Nips (small alcohol bottles)

Bottle opener

Beer/soda tabs

Alcohol bottles with cool labels

Fruit/fruit seeds

Theater/Plays

Play/theater scripts

Play/movie tickets

Masks

Costumes

Nature

Pine cones

Fennel

Wildflowers

Fig/fig newtons

Ivy

Leopard/cheetah print

Honey

Bull imagery

Donkey imagery

Bones

Antlers

Dead/preserved animals

Hiking gear

Seeds

Dolphins

Depictions of big cats

Wheat

Barley

Ecstasy

Concert/festival tickets

Various drugs (use safely!)

Sex toys

Your favorite music

Misc.

Locks of hair

Shaven beard hair

Pride swag

Extravagant clothes/clothes that make you feel good

Devotional Acts

Wine/Intoxication

Drink alcohol/get drunk

Go to a wine tasting

Make wine

Eat grapes

Trip intentionally/spiritually

Learn about substance abuse/recovery

Destigamtize drug users

Learn about harm reduction

Use drugs safely

Theater

Attend a play

Write a play/film/musical

Make home videos

Write poetry

Act

Dress up

Go to the movie theater

Nature

Go to the woods

Dance/sing in the woods

Meditate in the woods

Learn wilderness safety and first aid

Learn what to do when encountering a wild animal

Go off the beaten path

Explore new areas

Pick up litter

Forage

Recycle bottles

Grow fruit

Try new fruits

Ecstasy

Attend concerts/festivals

Attend/throw parties/celebrations

Have sex

Masturbate

Have threesomes/swing/whatever your in to

Finally give into that one kink you’ve been repressing (you know the one)

Do drugs (responsibly)

Learn about consent/establish boundaries with partners

Death/Rebirth

Dionysus is a god of rebirth and resurrection. This association comes from his birth stories and has resulted in epithets like “twice-born.”

Learn how to preserve dead animals

Learn about different life cycles (plants, animals, etc)

Learn about your ancestry

Foreigners

Dionysus is also seen as a foreign god with unknown origins. He also traveled through and invaded India.

Learn about immigration in your area

Learn about different cultures

Try foreign foods

Learn a new language

Learn about your ancestry

Help immigrants in your area

Misc.

Grow your hair out

Manifest/Keep a manifestation journal. Sexual/creative energy is linked and can be used to manifest

Shed your old self

Self-reflection/self-exploration

Identify areas where you may overindulge (food, substances, spending, etc.)

#dionysus worship #dionysus #helpol #greek gods #paganism #hellenic polytheism #bacchus #witchblr #dionysus offerings #offerings #wine

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shapelytimber · 6 months

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It's *definitely* not a date

[COMMISSIONS] - [PRINT] (Promo code UJABTZ still available until 11/19)

I love these two glhohkgkgjgk the silly 60s spies are cute ok ;; (and there is something about an american man and a russian man romancing each other during the cold war-)

Process (+ a long ass rant about what they are eating (with pics)) below vvv

For this one I wanted to challenge myself by drawing something that's really challenging for me : food ! It's really hard for me to make it look appetizing- I don't really like eating, and I don't usually bother to cook (why cook when I could just grab a baguette, a piece of cheese that could kill an american on sight, and combine the two to create easely one of the top 5 dish france has to offer ?), so I really struggle with making it look good lgkglflfofi but I'm very happy with how it turned out !!!

Welcome to my long ass rent on a very specific type of french food :

So the plan for this was always to have them eat at a french restaurant, but I could not resist doing something really personal and extremely specific to my hometown- so they are eating in Nice ! And Nissart cuisine is very different from the rest of France. Why ? Quick history (I swear this has something to do with food), Nice was a very late addition to France, only becoming french in 1860, before that point it was part of the kingdom of Sardinia (so not Italian, but pretty close). It mostly translate to it having it's own dead language "Niçois" (a derivation of "Provençal", the old french language of the south), it's own anthem "Nissa la bella" and a very distinct cuisine.

So what are they eating ? First, you'll notice they have a little plate of Pissaladière ! It's flatbread with caramelized onions, anchovy (this is a crucial part of the dish, if you exclude them your just eating onion pie (/neg)), and black olive (btw I checked the english wikipedia page for pissaladière- it's so shit omg nooo)

It's commonly free in restaurants, and served while you wait for your order (not all restaurants do that, but it's always so nice when they do fkfjkf). It's a pain in the ass to make, and all the ones you buy in boulangeries or stores are dogshit-

Ok for the actual dishes (It was hard to find something that would go well with red wine kgkgfjlfk because that means no fish-) ! Napoleon is eating roasted rabbit a la Niçoise ! The rabbit is flavored with olive oil, onions, garlic, lard and white wine (quick note, nearly everything we cook in Nice is in olive oil, not a big fan of butter). It's served with cooked tomatoes, rosemary, potatoes and black olive.

And Illya is eating two distinct things, 1) zucchini flower fritters ('beignets de fleurs de courgette' in french) ! More specifically, the flatter version (it taste more like the flower. The more crispy version tastes more like just oil (in my opinion)).

And 2) stuffed vegetable a la niçoise ('farcis niçois' in french) ! Just empty a tomato/zucchini/eggplant/bell pepper, stuff it with a mixture of meat, garlic, thyme, parsley and parmesan, then put bread crumbs on top.

PS : just wanted to share a quote from my evil advisor (@quijicroix) : "I'm glad the waiter brought their F cups" (this is my best attempt to translate : "damn le serveur de genre indéterminé qui ramene les miches !")

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pizzaboat · 4 months

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Things Eda totally does

She gets those kids mechanical building sets ( those toys meant to encourage kids to get into engineering) as gifts from Raine or Camila

Eda will somehow build completely different things from the blue prints because she doesn't wanna follow the instructions and also can't follow them for shit

She drinks from the milk carton like a degenerate because she's in bachelor mode, even though she's been raising King for ages at this point

She'll get really invested in some cheesy romance, or unironically watch a really bad rom-com and will panic and change channels when anyone enters the room. King, especially because he's a little shit

She wears heavy warm pyjamas because she doesn't wanna be bothered with a blanket (it makes her feel trapped and restrained when waking up from nightmares)

The elixirs taste so bad that when she was younger she tried to down water straight after a sip and she threw up

She then repeated that same process with alcohol 5 years later

Eda bites Raine specifically. She'll walk by and take their wrist and gently chomp. But not hurt them, and they'll just stand there like, "I know you think I'm a snack, but this is taking it too far."

She encourages Luz to get into stereotypical college hijinks. Egging buildings, partying, etc

She only knows how to cook a select few things, including depression meals, and she once tried to impress Raine with a fancy dinner but didn't know how

So she ended up cooking like one of those bad tik tok videos... cheese, pasta, and beef and peas in a metal tray, baked in tinfoil at 8000 degrees for 5 hours

#the owl house #toh #eda clawthorne #toh eda #edalyn clawthorne #raine whispers #toh raine #raeda

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dailyfoodlovers · 1 year

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idk i just feel like even though im talking to a lot of people no one really shows me any special attention when im funny or talks to me to tell me how much they think im cool in private. its just hard to fee like im reallly genuinely valued in these more casual relationships.

Use a nonstick pan and a silicone spatula — When scrambling eggs, we use a high-quality nonstick pan. I also love using my silicone spatula since the flexibility lets me swirl and sweep the eggs as they cook.

I only use eggs, butter, and salt — no milk or cream! I’ve never understood why people add extras like milk, cream, and even sour cream to eggs before cooking them. Milk and sour cream water scrambled eggs down and to us, the cream is just unnecessary.

If you use quality, fresh eggs and cook them low and slow (more on that below), you don’t need anything else. Just a touch of salt and a grind of black pepper. By the way, I love scrambled eggs cooked in butter, but I will often switch it up and use a fruity olive oil.

Swirl then Sweep — We prefer scrambled eggs with larger curds than small, but love them to be extra creamy. The moment the eggs hit the pan, I use our silicone spatula to rapidly swirl in small circles around the pan — we do this, without stopping, until the eggs look slightly thickened and very small curds begin to form (this achieves the creamy part). Then I change from swirling in circles to making long sweeps across the pan, making larger, creamy curds.

Don’t Forget About Carryover Cooking — Eggs are delicate and cook very quickly. Even over low heat eggs can go from liquid to overcooked in seconds. It’s important to take the pan off of the heat before your eggs have finished cooking.

Scrambled Egg Variations

My favorite way to enjoy scrambled eggs is on top of a slice of toast and topped with a few grinds of black pepper, a little extra salt, and freshly chopped chives.

You can also add extra ingredients to the scramble itself. In our dill scrambled eggs, we swirl in fresh chopped dill to the whisked eggs. If you’ve never had eggs and dill together, I highly recommend it.

For a cheesy egg scramble, add soft or shredded cheeses like goat cheese or shredded cheddar to the eggs just as they finish cooking. The heat from carryover cooking will be enough to melt the cheese into the eggs. We add feta to these scrambled egg, spinach, and feta breakfast burritos and love it.

More Easy Egg Recipes

How to Cook Hard Boiled Eggs – We show you how to cook hard boiled eggs perfectly, every time.

Simple Egg Salad Recipe – Easy egg salad recipe with a little mayonnaise, celery, fresh herbs and a spritz of lemon to brighten things up.

How to Poach an Egg – Learn three tips for making perfectly cooked poached eggs at home.

Avocado Egg Salad – This egg salad combines two of our favorite things: eggs and avocado. In addition to the avocado, we add a little mayonnaise for moisture, celery for crunch, fresh herbs and a small amount of lemon juice to brighten things up.

Easy Vegetable Frittata Recipe – The perfect frittata is soft inside with a texture similar to custard. You can pack just about anything into it. In our vegetable frittata, we add lots of colorful and tasty veggies, cheese, and herbs.

88 comments / 56 reviews

Soft and Creamy Scrambled Eggs

PREP 10mins

COOK 5mins

TOTAL 15mins

Scrambled eggs should be soft, creamy and gently scrambled. A quality non-stick pan and silicone spatula are really useful. It’s important that you use low heat and don’t forget about the chance of carryover cooking. Eggs are delicate and cook very quickly. I like to take the pan off of the heat before the scramble has finished cooking. Give the eggs a few seconds in the hot pan (off the heat) and you’ll find the eggs turn out to be perfectly cooked — not dry, and not too wet.

Makes approximately 2 servings

Watch Us Make the Recipe

youtube

You Will Need

1/2 tablespoon butter

4 large eggs

1/8 teaspoon kosher salt, or more to taste

Directions

Adam and Joanne's Tips

Olive oil: It’s pretty common (and delicious) to cook scrambled eggs in butter, but olive oil works nicely, too. If you want to give it a try, stick to lighter, fruiter olive oils.

Nutrition facts: The nutrition facts provided below are estimates. We have used the USDA database to calculate approximate values.

If you make this recipe, snap a photo and hashtag it #inspiredtaste — We love to see your creations on Instagram and Facebook! Find us: @inspiredtaste

Nutrition Per Serving: Calories 168 / Protein 13 g / Carbohydrate 1 g / Dietary Fiber 0 g / Total Sugars 0 g / Total Fat 12 g / Saturated Fat 5 g / Cholesterol 380 mg

AUTHOR: Adam and Joanne Gallagher

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#Youtube

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nuhuhwinniethepooh · 4 months

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Cheese

You knew you shouldn't have done it, you knew and yet you still did.

You ate cheese, not any ordinary kind of cheese but the cheesiest, creamiest kind of cheese that you'd eat only for a special occasion and hey, it was a special occasion. A 3-year anniversary with your boyfriend counted as a special occasion so you did it, you ate it and you did so with the most delicious pasta ever.

Your lactose intolerant ass ate it and it tasted so good that you even went for a second round, did you regret it? At least not then but what if someone asked you that question now? It'd still be a no, your answer will always be a no even when you're bloated as hell, sitting on the toilet, pants resting on your ankles and gripping onto the plush of your thighs with a death-like grip as your stomach gurgles and rumbles like a club party at its peak.

"I told you not to do it, didn't I? I warned you about this," your boyfriend berates amusedly as he showers besides you, a fancy glass door being the only barrier between the two of you. The splattering sound of the falling water only making your stomach gurgle louder as you glare at him," I'd suggest you to shut up if you know what's good for you, Satoru," you snap while ripping a long, wet-sounding fart, the sound of your plopping waste muted by the echoes of the falling water in the enclosed room.

Satoru pauses, turning to look at you with comically wide-eyes before a fit of laughter rips through him. His huge, naked frame shaking slightly inside the glass paneled shower, finding humor in your pain. "That stinks!" He manages between laughter, his eyes glinting as he rests a hand on the glass for support, the heat of his palm creating a steamy print on it.

"Your morning breathe stinks more," you grunt, pausing as you feel the next explositive building up inside you, ignoring the still laughing man as you lock your jaw and concentrate, furrowing your eyes before a bright? idea pops up in your head.

Clenching your thighs to hold it in, you turn to look at Satoru with a mischievous grin," 'Babe," you manage out between gritted teeth as you hold your stomach and hunch a little because of the pain of holding it in. He switches the shower off and looks at you, signs of laughter still in his tone and demeanor," yea?"

"Guess what I'm trying to say, mmkay?" You manage out, no longer being able to hold it in and before Satoru opens his mouth to ask you what you meant by that, you finally unclench your thighs and let everything out. Three huge controlled farts rips out of you in different intervals, the last shit a literal whistle note with how high-pitched it was and lasting the longest.

Now see, as the strongest sorcerer there isn't much that could ever faze the Gojo Satoru at all, he was practically a God walking in a world full of mortals but with you, oh with you. With you, he was only Gojo Satoru, a mortal just like everyone else with imperfections, flaws and vulnerability. So you can't really blame him when he bursts into laughter so violently that his body literally jolts with it, can you?

You can't really blame him when he goes weak in the knees and clutches his stomach as he crumples into a pile of mess on the floor, can you?. You can't really blame him when he helplessly looks up at you from the floor with tears pooling in his eyes, only for another fit of silent wheezes to pass out from his mouth, can you?

"You're s'posed to be guessing!" You whine out, grinning widely at yourself as you look at him curled up and trembling with silent laughter on the bathroom floor. "I don't know" he sputters out between wheezes, practically having an asthma attack with how hard he was laughing.

"Oh boo, you buzzkill. You're supposed to be guessing," you lean forward and stick your tongue out at him, shifting back into position with your hands gripping on your thighs," I said 'I love youuuu' though, just so y'know," you continue, ripping the same three sounds again for good measure. The unmistakable whistle-fart gracing the last, lasting even longer than before.

You swear you felt the floor shake with how hard Satoru guffawed at that, literally having a seizure on the floor with how hard he was wheezing, coming up very rarely to take in large gulps of oxygen before turning into a pile of breatheless limbs on the floor and dying again.

You almost laugh along with him, almost but all humor quickly dies down as you look down at your stomach and feel the final build-up inside you. The force so strong that you instantly know the worst was finally coming to an end, but there will be consequences. Consequences that will leave you changed for a long time so you look at Satoru, meeting his eyes, you give him a sad smile as you wait for the inevitable to come.

" Toru, tell my parents I loved them."

___________________________________________________________

Bonus :-

"You were so brave," Satoru coos softly, brushing your hair back gently while pulling you closer to him. You groan in pain, squeezing the hot water bag resting on your aching tummy.

"So, so brave indeed. I'm glad you survived, honey," he mumbles in your hair, biting his lips to hold back his laughter. "You can laugh if you want to," you grumble, throwing the water bag at the end of the bed and replacing it with his hand instead, he slowly massages your tummy with a small hum.

"I'll spare you this time," he chuckles lightly, cupping your cheeks and kissing your forehead. "You still need to say your 'I love you's' to your parents afterall," he teases, putting his hand back and massaging your tummy again.

"I'm never gonna eat anything dairy again," you grumble underneath your breathe, earning a small chuckle from him.

"I honestly doubt that, honey."

___________________________________________________________

For my lactose intolerant readers, i just had this bright idea when I was fighting for my own life in the washroom.

I swear I'm actually working on my alphabetical series too (I'm not lazy, I swear)

Masterlist

#nuhuhwinniepooh #jjk x reader #Lactose intolerant readers or LIR #gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles #Jjk × LIR #jjk fluff #gojo x you

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squoxle · 8 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 ~ 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐟 18+

*𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔.*

✩✩𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴：ⓌⒶⓇⓃⒾⓃⒼ

<<𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐢𝐭-𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱--𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡 𝑆𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤／𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐸𝑚𝑜𝑗𝑖❤️‍🔥

✩𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔：𝐂𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐞!𝐊.𝐒 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏.𝐒𝐇 𝐱 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

☆𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒： 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡/𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭/𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞

☆𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡：3,090

☆𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦：𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Good morning, Miss. Y/N," the doorman greeted you as you entered through the large revolving glass doors of your office building.

You were currently working as an intern to be a newsreporter and your job was to write exclusively for the "Goût du Paradis" or "A Taste of Heaven," a food segment in a popular French-themed magazine. However, you were in charge of this segment on all platforms, including "the print in the magazine, the article on their blog, and the recording for their vlog," you could hear your manager's voice repeating in your head like a broken record.

Veronica, or Ronnie as you often called her, was probably the chillest manager you've ever seen. She was like a super supportive friend that was also your boss. She always wore her hair in a sleek and sexy bun, leaving out a few strands to frame her face. The mole that sat above her plump lips and her tailored monochrome suits made her look even classier.

You walked over to your desk and logged into your computer to check the stats on your latest post. You had to monitor the engagement activity to make sure that you weren't falling behind on the charts. Sometimes you've had to create an ad that would draw more people to check out your segment or offer an incentive like a free gift card for 5 random readers. The gift card idea was actually more useful than you anticipated, it has helped you so many times that it's become an addition to your write-up.

"So far, so good," you thought to yourself as you sipped on your vanilla latte. "Now, I need to figure out what I'm gonna do next," you scratched your head before opening a new tab.

"Bonjour, darling," Veronica smiled through her thin framed glasses, cutting through your thoughts. "Morning, Ronnie." "I just got a hot new topic for your upcoming article. You can think of the title on your own for this one, but basically you're going to be reviewing this cute petit café. Apparently, it has been around for a few years. But recently it has grown to be very popular and we want to know if it's really worth all the buzz," Veronica slid a yellow filing folder across your desk.

"Oh my god. Thank. You. You're a lifesaver. I was just looking for what I should write about next," you said opening the folder to see whatever information Veronica had already gathered. "Tsk tsk. You give me too much credit. I'm just looking out for you. Plus I'm kinda curious myself," she smirked. "Oh, I have one more surprise for ya," she continued before pulling a dark blue plastic basket from behind her back. "Sapphira's!!" she beamed. "I know how much you love this place, so I bought you breakfast. A grande vanilla-almond latte with extra whipped cream and a cream cheese bagel with fresh fruits."

"Aww, Ronnie. Thanks, but you didn't have to do this. And I already had coffee." "First of all, I'm like your best friend and you know that I'd literally die for you. Second, I know you're drinking that coffee from the lobby. That is not coffee. That is dehydrated rabbit turds ground up with mop water and octopus milk. I have delivered to you treats from the gem gods. So drink up, enjoy your breakfast, and start working on that article ASAP," Veronica said before walking off to her office, leaving behind the basket of goodies.

You were too much in shock to even give a response. You should've been used to it by now, Veronica always said some of the craziest things to make a point.

Before leaving the office you wrote down your usual notes to keep you on track and packed up your fully-charged Nikon Z8 camera. In your opinion, this was the most well rounded camera on the market. You had been using it for all of your past articles and the quality is flawless.

You walked outside and climbed into a taxi that was tainted with the scent of cigarettes, an aroma that singed your nosehairs and made your eyes water. Fortunately, the café was only a 15 minute drive away. However, a 15-minute drive soon became 45-minutes and you had no choice but to roll down a window. Just a little bit of fresh air to relieve you of this metallic, yellow gas chamber.

The driver tried to keep you entertained as the two of you sat in traffic, but it was hard to understand his heavy Brooklyn accent.

"Sorry about this here traffic. I mean, hey, if i could, I'd fly ya right over this mess." "It's okay," you sighed. "Hey, you wanna here a crazy story?" "Sure." "Being a taxi driver comes with a whole lot of wackos. I mean, seriously. There was this one time that I had a guy crawl in the backseat completely wasted. I mean, pissy drunk. Crazy part was that his girlfriend or whatever was sober. She started sucking em' off in the back seat while he was passed out and then he randomly started coughing. My guess is he was about to get off. That's when he uttered this ungodly groan and puked right on the back of her head. But she didn't even stop. She kept on sucking. I kicked them out as soon as I was able to stop because I don't like that type of activity in my car."

"Wow...that's crazy." "I know right. Do you wanna hear another story?" "Umm, no that's alright." "Hehe. Hey, what'dya know. Looks like we're right where you wanna be."

You looked out the window to see the quaint little café. It sat on the corner of a reletively quiet street. The perfect location to feel like you had really traveled to France. Honestly, the entire strip felt like a mini city in Paris.

You payed the taxi driver before stepping out. "He actually wasn't half bad, but that story was crazier than I expected. And the strong scent of cigarettes burned my lungs...thank god for windows. Now, I need to focus. I'm here to write an article," you thought to yourself.

Before entering the café you walked around to take a few pics of the surrounding area. You also made sure to record a few videos to fill in time for a VoiceOver on the vlog.

You tucked your camera into your bag before walking into the café. Immediately, your senses were overwhelmed. The intense aroma of fresh baked bread, coffee, and vanilla filled your nose, while the Gymnopédie No.1 played gently around you. The volume was just loud enough to set the mood without being a distraction, but what was even more beautiful was the interior design. The minimalistic, Euro-Korean vibe was unique and the tables were arranged perfectly. There was plenty of space to move around, and enough seating for about 20-30 people--including the seating outside and the two miniature balconies. It was romantic and whimsical at the same time. The pastel pink walls were adorned with paintings of bikes, flowers, cityscapes, and of course food.

"Maybe this is what keeps people coming back?" you thought to yourself, but you knew deep down that you should always look beyond the surface as a reporter. "I should try some of the food here. Unfortunately, it's already kinda late so I'll only be able to stay for a snack and maybe an early dinner before I have to go back to the office."

Luckily, there were only a few people here today, so you wouldn't have to waste time blurring out the many faces that preffered to stay anoymnous. You walked over to the register to place your order.

"Hello. Welcome to Kape-Café, what would you like to order?"

You were still shuffling through your bag looking for your wallet when the person at the cash register spoke to you.

"Oh ummm--" you stuttered as you looked up. You didn't expect to see a guy that attractive. He literally looked like a model. His skin was like porcelain, so clear that it almost appeared reflective. And his eyes were like pools of honey, both delicate and bold.

"Umm...I'm-I-I-I've never actually been here before, but I'm doing a review on this café. So, I'm not sure about what to order. Do you have any recommendations?" you couldn't believe that you were actually letting a guy you don't even know have this affect on you.

"Pull yourself together girl. You've got a job to do," you tried encouraging yourself.

"Yeah. I can tell you've never been here before," he replied. "How?" "Well, it'd be hard to forget a face like that," you couldn't help but blush upon hearing this. "I'm Sunoo by the way. And you are?" "I'm Y/N." "Well, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. I like to get familiar with my customers. It makes me feel like I have a sort of connection to them, ya know what I mean?" "Yea."

"So, tell me. Are you more of a sweet or savory girl?" "Umm. Well...I like more sweet food than I do savory, but I kinda wanna get a taste of the whole menu here if that's okay." "Oh. Yeah. I get it. Do you have any allergies?" "None that I can think of, why?" "How about I just surprise you?" "Surprise me?" "Yea, I'll surprise you with something savory and something sweet. If you're here to write a review, I want to make sure youre getting the best of both worlds," he winked.

"As tempting as that is, I think I'd like to know what I'm getting into." "Hmm, well how about I bring you one sandwich, one dessert, and one drink? That way you know what you're getting, but at the same time you don't." "Okay, I'll trust you on this one."

"Perfect," he smiled. "You can sit wherever you like and I'll get to work on your order right now." "Wait! I didn't get a chance to pay for it yet." "Don't worry about it. You can pay afterward," he said before heading to the back.

You looked over the menu just to get an idea of the pricing here. "Hmm, it looks like I'll end up paying no more than $20. That's not bad," you strategized to yourself.

"Are you having any trouble decideing on what to order?" A voice asked, but this one was different from the guy at the cash register.

You looked up to see yet another painfully attractive employee.

"Oh, umm...no actually. I've already sorted it out with your co-worker, Sunoo." "Well, I hope you don't mind if I get you something to drink while you wait." "Thank you, but I'm okay. He's already preparing me something and I don't want to bother you." "Are you sure? I really don't mind. I'm working on a new drink anyway, so it'll be free of charge." "Hmm, well alright."

The tall, platinum haired walked behind the counter and began working on your drink.

"Dammit. I didn't even catch his name," you thought to yourself. "Wait. What am I saying. I shouldn't be thinking about dick right now. I'm here for a job and that's what I need to focus on."

You pulled out your camera to take a picture of the menu as well as a few shots from the table. Afterward, you started filming a panoramic video from your seat which was interrupted by the platinum-haired barista walking to your table carrying a wooden tray. Hopefully, the camera didn't catch the way you flinched at his arrival. Either way, you knew that you needed to take another video just in case.

"This looks like a lot more than a drink," you chuckled. "Well, I thought you might want something to eat with it," he continued, placing a small cup and tray in front of you. "These just came out of the oven so be careful." "What are they?" "Minnabuns. They're basically minature cinnamon buns."

"Oh. Cute," you said, examining the treats before tasting a bit of the cream cheese frosting. "Just like you," he smiled as your eyes met. You could feel your face burning up. "Are all the guys here like this? Attractive and flirtatious?" you thought to yourself.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you, but it's true." "Thanks," you smiled shyly. "I’m Sunghoon,” he said extending a hand. “I’m Y/N,” you replied as you held his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, raising you hand to his lips as he placed a delicate kiss on the back. “You should try your drink while it’s still warm,” he suggested as you reached for the cup. “Ouch!” You quickly pulled your hand back as the cup was much warmer than you anticipated. “Here, let me help,” he said lifting the cup and bringing it to your lips.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. OH MY GOD!!!” You screamed internally as Sunghoon looked into your eyes.

You were surprised to taste such flavors. The cappuccino was bold. Coffee just strong enough to taste but not overpower.

He gently pulled the cup away and placed it back on the table.

"How was it? Oh- Hold on," he said as he cupped your chin and wiped the top of your lip. "Sorry, there was foam covering your pretty lips," he smiled. "Oh, uhh, thank you." "You're welcome, Princess. Now you can try my minnabuns. Trust me, you'll love them," he said, picking up one on the minnabuns between his fingers before placing it in your mouth. Your eyes widened as the minnabun--and Sunghoon's fingers--touched your tongue. "Wow! All of this stuff is really good," you thought to yourself.

"It's good huh?" Sunghoon smiled. "Mhm," you nodded your head. "Does the princess want some more--"

"Ah, Sunghoon, this is my customer. You need to go watch the register," Sunoo pouted as he carried a tray over to you. "Oh can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" "I don't care." "Aww you're no fun," Sunghoon said before walking back over to the register.

"Sorry, he's not usually like this," Sunoo said as he placed your order on the table.

"Thank you and it's okay," you smiled.

"But I really can't blame him. You are very pretty and I would love to take you out tonight after my shift to get to know you a little more," he smiled with a lustful look in his eyes. "Well, I'll go and let you enjoy your meal. And don't worry about paying. This one's on us," he continued before walking off.

"Work is gonna have to wait. I am not missing out on an opportunity like this. I can get to it in the morning. The deadline isn't until Thursday anyways," you though to yourself.

After snapping a few pics of your food you ate the tasty meal that Sunoo brought out to you. When you were done, you wrote down a few notes about your day, careful to exclude any spicy details.

You hadn't even noticed hoe the lights were dim and the lobby was completely empty. You gathered your things neatly together in your bag before placing your empty tray on the counter.

Sunghoon came from the kitchen to grab your plates, "I hope you enjoyed yourself," he smiled. "Yes, I did," you replied. Shortly after, Sunoo exited the kitchen door, no longer wearing the white shirt and apron from before. "You ready?" he asked. "Yea," you nodded.

"Just follow me. My car is parked back here, in the employee's lot," he said as he walked you outside. You were surprised to see Sunghoon leaning against the hood of the vehicle. "I hope you weren't expecting to have fun without me Sunny," he huffed with a smirk. "Well it's kinda hard to do that when we live together," Sunoo rolled his eyes. "Yea, whatever," Sunghoon said before hopping in the driver's seat.

"So, where are we going?" "Home, we don't like drinking in public when we have work the next day. But if you want, you can join us on Friday," Sunoo smiled from the passenger seat.

Sunghoon turned up the radio before whispering something in Sunoo's ear. The two of them began exchanged a few hushed words before they both took turns to look at you. "We're almost there," Sunghoon said.

Now you were feeling a bit uneasy about getting into a car with some guys you met the same day, but there was nothing you could do at this point except to hope for the best.

The drove through a neighborhood before finally stopping at a house.

Sunghoon turned the car off and Sunoo stepped out and came around to help you.

After going inside, Sunghoon got some drinks going.

❤️‍🔥: The exact details of how you got to this point are a blur to you now. The last thing you remembered was having one too many drinks and sharing one too many secrets and now you were sandwiched between two guys. Sunghoon fucked your pussy from behind while you sucked the Sunoo's dick. "I love the way you moan on my dick," he smiled, caressing your face before grabbing a handful of your hair. Sunghoon continued to grip your waist tighter as he fucked you harder.

"She's so pretty, isn't she Sunghoon?" "Well all I can see from here is her ass," Sunghoon said before flipping you over on your back. "Hmm, you're right Sunoo, she is very pretty," he continued before going down to play with your pussy. Sunoo kissed your lips and your neck before sucking on your tits. Sunghoon lifted your legs over his shoulders as he continued to eat you out. This cycle of switching and fucking ended after you had gotten off so many times you couldn't even remember your name. :❤️‍🔥

The next morning, they gave you a few treats from the café and dropped you off at work. "Bonjou--Oh, what's got your smiling? Was the café really that good?" Veronica giggled. "It was amazing," you giggled back. "Well you gotta tell me everything." "I think you'll be happy to read my blog," you winked. "Oh my god, what is it you tease? Wait! Is that from the café too? Did you actually go back there this morning? Why can't you just tell me now? I can't wait any longer. I'm literally burning with curiosity." "Hehe, slow down, Ronnie. I'll tell you tonight okay. And yes I did go back this morning." "Hmm okay," she pouted.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ °❈° ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❀𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @nikohiroshi @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul

163 notes · View notes

strawhatkia · 10 months

Text

luvr boy.

INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !

WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited

WORD COUNT ! 1.6k

A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧

pretty boy- the prettiest

alright!! let’s start with wash day!!

…nigga did not know shit-

poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair

all he had was h e a t d a m a g e

“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”

everything…everything is wrong…

aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength

and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack

chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it

don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?

but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!

first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while

lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter

mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber

after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet

“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth

after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size

“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night.

the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed

when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes

“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”

he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self

which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."

to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting

golden hour, his favorite time of the day

this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you

it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this

"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"

side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised

izuku loves affection, giving and receiving

his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm

go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen

one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard

as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.

let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise

ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so

even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)

i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much

if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise.

and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times

remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason

poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking

he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it

later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did

and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands

he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them

he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend

i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it

please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit

he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special

he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it

when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run

give it back and you'll never see it again.

but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red

“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*

nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-

for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka

short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in

long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !

and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”

i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles

be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !

the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all !

the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while

he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else

i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together

you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price

what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?

everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !

izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you

you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you

©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

wanna read more ??

lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters

boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo

love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters

taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene

izuku taglist: @cosmiles

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funnyartprintsnow · 3 months

Photo

Animal Print - Victorian Mice Wine Print, Kitchen Wall Art, Cheese Tasting Decor, Ink Watercolor Style (Print only no frame)

#Grape Harvest Print #Cheese Tasting Art #Wine Making Scene #Decorative Wall Art #Animal Humor Print #Victorian Era Print #Wine Cellar Decor #Rustic Home Decor #Anthropomorphic Mice #Funny Mice #Cartoon Mice #Mouse poster #Gift for him

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dotcie · 8 months

Text

— BAD DOG. [2]

》 PAIRING: simon 'ghost' riley x f!oc 》 NOTES: taglist is open! please let me know if you want to be added or removed. 》 WARNINGS: 18+ | MDNI | hair pulling 》 CHAPTER: 3.9k | 2/? [masterlist] | AO3

Before she met Laswell, Jane did media monitoring for the DISA.

It paid well for a job straight out of undergrad. Had reasonable hours, pleasant enough colleagues. She commuted the twenty minutes from her shitty apartment in Kingman Park to the Pentagon—arrived at seven forty-five with a cream cheese bagel and a skim milk latte. Wrote reports, emails, and memos. Hours and hours of political speeches, barking rifles, and screaming civilians ingrained in her brain.

''Like a fucked up collage of the human greed for oil and retribution,'' she once called it over an almost empty espresso martini. Condensation pearled off the glass's rim and pooled on the table of an overpriced speakeasy bar, so unimpressive it was not worth remembering its name. Her questionable Tinder date had been late, his small-talk rather boring; No, she didn't like her job. Who ever did? But rent was expensive in DC, and Jane had student loans, expensive taste, and maybe eight hundred dollars in her checking account.

She covered newsstreams out of Egypt, Lebanon, and Jordan. Iraq, and Yemen. Algeria. Libya.

Ate lunch at her desk—usually a salad and a protein bar, four busy screens in front of her.

Had meetings with Cairo, Beirut, Amman, Baghdad, Sana'a, Algiers, and Tripoli.

She joined the white-collar crowd on their evening run around the Mall after work. From the Capitol steps to the Lincoln Memorial, around the reflecting pool. Two times, sometimes three. Always depending on the restlessness that hummed in her bones and tingled in her fingertips.

Jane shoved her damp hair up with a clip and hopped on the blue metro line afterwards; sweaty and breathless, body humming with spent energy. She stopped at Whole Foods on her way home; bought dinner-for-one and a four-pack of sugar free Redbull. Put on noise canceling headphones without listening to anything on her way home—spying into warm lit windows and other people's lives.

She ate in bed, crouched over her Macbook, the TV always set to CNN. She practiced Arabic. Scrolled through subreddits about zero-day exploits, but never commented on them. Went to bed late, woke up early. Got up the next day and did it all over again.

Washington is a big city, in a big country, in a big world, and nothing ever changed. Jane just sat in her gunny-covered cubicle and watched whole cities crumble to dust like sandcastles. The local newspapers only covered a watered-down version of the turmoil overseas, but the mental images were always in the back of her head—no matter how loud she turned the TV.

It's all part of a grand plan, she told herself. Just another rung on the ladder, an essential middle-step in her career. It was comfortable and disturbing. Exciting enough, but nothing impactful.

Nothing with an edge.

The job had a sky-high turnover; a bad impact on employees. Turns out, swallowing the documentation of invasions, and civil wars, and an endless flow of American exceptionalism was only manageable for a couple of months. Jane became miserable and angry. Tired and strung-out. When handing in her two-weeks notice without a back-up plan, her supervisor accepted the neatly printed note with tired eyes and an annoyed flick of the wrist.

Her therapist blamed her sense of weightlessness for everything she did afterwards: the thrill-seeking, the risk-taking. All her screw-ups in pursuit of sticking her fingers in better pies. When the agency sent her to the embassy in Urzikstan, Jane canceled her rent-controlled apartment lease early and donated most of her belongings to the Habitat For Humanity in Capitol Hill. Burning the boats, she called it.

For months, no one could get a hold of her.

Analyst positions for counter-terrorism overseas will chew you up and spit out your bones, a friend in the IOC had warned her. Jane was up for it anyway—of course she was. She had witnessed a few horrendous things through screens in Washington, but nothing compared to the situation in Sakhra. Like most soul-crushing things in life, it all wasn't real until it was.

The first time she experienced the ruthlessness of the real world, a local contractor whose family was killed by American soldiers blew up half a base with some DIY C4. 12 soldiers dead, 24 injured. If not for Laswell yanking her into the shadows behind a M1A2 when panic erupted, she would have been trampled to death under the burning afternoon sun.

Instead, Jane heaved, and coughed, then sank to the dusty ground with ringing ears. Kate towered over her with a drawn P890, yelling all-too-calmly over the wailing of sirens: You have twenty seconds to get it together.

They made her take time off two years later, after a black site she was stationed at suffered another, similar attack. Jane was resentful of it, but she wanted to keep her clearance, so she left with the next supply plane and said what she needed to say to pass the psych evaluation.

She considered moving back into her grandparents ranch in Arizona. Maybe traveling through Europe, starting a new hobby (rock climbing, pottery, crocheting); but there was no real drive or push behind it. Instead, she bled in secret. Fucked strangers on her frameless king-size mattress and worked out too much in her unfurnished apartment. She got offers; a few private-sector contracts she knew she couldn't entertain. Jane wanted to stick it out with the agency—and Laswell. Especially with Laswell.

The first question Shepherd asked her when she stepped into his office was if she had any family; a partner, kids, siblings. Parents to take care of. The General asked bluntly, but Jane was used to force as the most efficient method to get answers.

She had spent three years interrogating Al-Qatala members and contacts. Trading money, safety, and threats for intelligence. Sleeping through the sound of gunfire, bystanding interrogations, interpreting intelligence, and snooping in places Americans aren't supposed to. Jane had left her old life behind and dove head-first into a tunnel vision.

No. She had no one.

When saying it out loud she almost sounded proud.

Working for the General is different. Non-official cover work for SAD intel suits her better—scratches a certain itch, too. Like finally tasting blood after biting your tongue for years.

Laswell has been helpful, the additional training too; but nothing ever prepared her for the void between long-term missions. When the work is done and restlessness returns in weird jet-lagged hours of the fading days. When there are no objectives to sink her teeth into. No foreign streets to roam under false identities. No predictions to be made, no strings to pull.

She's stuck in Iceland now, attending debrief after debrief. Her target is dead, the missile prototypes returned to the lab, but that isn't enough. They want to know everything. First the higher-ups at the Headquarters, then the Senate Intelligence Committee. They want the process. The months of searching, the people involved, the rules she broke.

She did a good job, she got what she wanted, but she is part of Shepherd's system now, and he didn't approve of her moving forward with the operation.

Since she returned to the lab, he hadn't answered any of her calls.

Ghost is nothing but a silhouette in the low light of the crescent moon; sitting against a weathered wall of heavy concrete, a half-burned cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Insects batter against a naked lightbulb overhead—the light orange and warm against the dark of night, casting long, unproportionate shadows over the smoking area.

The sky hangs bruised and stormy over Vatnajökull, a million stars dotting the night. It's quarter to one, and the grounds of 102 are deadly still—so still, that the sound of a nearby metal door opening and closing shut remind him of gunshots piercing through the air.

Years ago, he would have flinched at the sound, but there is not much left that startles Simon Riley anymore.

Jane tips her head back in annoyance as she steps outside, cradling her phone between ear and shoulder. ''Listen—,'' she scolds into it, patting the outside of her clothes for the pack of cigarettes she bought from one of the kitchen workers yesterday. ''Louise, right? Louise, with all due respect—''

She takes a deep breath of restraint when she finds nothing but a crumbled straw wrapper in the pockets of her leather jacket. Sharp words spill on the other end of the line, and she squeezes her eyes shut, pinches the bridge of her nose. ''I'm not going to argue with some mid-level bureaucrat, get him on the phone— No, no, you listen! I need a black passport, don't— Fuck—''

Jane's grip on the iPhone loosens with the sound of a disconnected call echoing blatantly against her ear. Simon can hear her mutter a spool of curses, the sound of gravel screeching under her feet, and how all sound seizes as she pauses at the sight of him.

The smoking area is dimly lit, but there's no mistaking the broad-shouldered figure with the cramped up skull mask looming in the corner of the building. Simon appeared in her sight so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that Jane would not be surprised if he materialized out of thin air. It would suit him; Ghost that he is.

Smoke pools out of the soldier's mouth, the balaclava pulled up to his nose; exposing a sharp chin with a shadow of stubble forming its way up a jaw set tight. He is hunched over, his elbows digging into his thighs. He doesn't look up to see that the expression on her face is one of mute surprise, or that her eyes narrow at the sight of him.

''Thought you'd be gone already,'' she calls over, lounging near the door she slipped out of.

''Change of plans,'' he returns easy and low, eyes glued to the book in his calloused hands.

It's only been a few days, but his voice is as deep and as resonant as Jane remembers; it fills the air and makes her blood rush with the mental images of his fingertips digging into her skin.

There's always a certain quietness after she's been fucked good—the world stands still for a moment, and it helps to quench the thirst, to fill the void.

Jane needs to hold something in her arms sometimes. Something unattainable and distant. Something unwise. Something like him.

''Mind if I bum one?'' She nods to the lit cigarette between his scarred fingers, stepping closer.

For a split second, she thinks he's going to ignore her—then he dog-ears the page he was reading and abandons the book onto his lap.

Simon looks up all casually and unfazed, shakes his head.

''Last one,'' he says, half-lidded stare fixed on her in that particular Ghost sort-of-way. The way he always gets when you rip out the half-assed social niceties and expose the weirdo underneath.

Jane exhales through her nose, leaning against a pole holding up the roof. The urge for frustration refuses to be ignored, so she buckles, comments: ''Of course,'' like she's taking notes on the irony of it all.

''Stop pondering, will ya?'' Inhaling another mouthful of tar, Simon stretches out along the bench, crossing his booted feet at the ankles. The set of dog tags around his neck clink together when he scratches the underside of his chin. "No point in gettin' all antsy."

She shoots him a cold, hard look for it—the one that makes his blood sing, makes him remember the expression in her eyes when she told him she wanted her target dead.

''Thank you, Simon, for your unsolicited wisdom.''

The subtle fuck you isn't boarded in her voice, but it throbs under every word of hers. He doesn't bother scolding her for saying his name again, but the bitter taste of disapproval sure does coat his tongue. He's not foolish enough to argue with her when she's like this; all gutted and pent-up. Ready to hiss, bite, and lunge at his throat.

The familiarity of it all stirs something up in him. For a moment, Ghost almost believes that it's sympathy, maybe—or at least a pinch of pity. A distant part of his mind remembers the dogged woman he faced when they first met; working out of a one-room shithole in a broken-down, brutalist apartment building somewhere in the Balkans. Reviewing surveillance logs, transcripts, and maps in shorts and a sports bra because the AC was utter rubbish. He recalls her hunched figure and unwashed hair as she worked out of the tiny living room—the space a mess of cables and empty microwave meals, her tech always charging. Her curtains always closed, dust dancing in the beams of light that crept their way inside.

Two days after the exfil, he barely recognized her anymore; with fresh clothes, twelve-hours of sleep, and hair neatly cut to a shoulder-length. It was like meeting a stranger, a whole different woman. He was certain, then, that the only way out for her was the same as his: leaving rotten and zipped up in a body bag.

Simon holds his half-smoked cigarette out to her, and she lets her head roll to consider the silent peace-offer. Her expression bleeds into something less angry in the face of him, and she hates that it makes him snort in response.

Jane gives him the illusion of thinking it over before breaking away from her frozen stance and closing the distance between them. She takes the stub, and sinks onto the wooden bench next to him.

''Thanks.'' — ''Mhmh.''

Even with some distance between them, Simon towers over her. He doesn't make a sound, doesn't attempt to embarrass himself with comforting words and distracting small-talk. He's quiet—a man of few words and fewer smiles—but that's what drew her to him in the first place. There's caution behind his eyes, and his words are always cleaved off at the knee. A person weathered and hardy. A man who, just like her, has seen things most wouldn't even believe.

They both fall quiet passing the cigarette back and forth, and for a moment he thinks that the conversation has faded out completely. Simon's eyes return to the book in his lap, trying to find the spot where he left off before she interrupted him, but—

''Do you think I went too far?'' Jane keeps her eyes forward, burying her free hand in the left pocket of her jacket.

Simon hums in response, dark and low. ''Doesn't matter what I think,'' he says in a way that makes it clear he believes it, too.

''But you are somewhat capable of forming opinions, yeah?''

It coaxes a half-huff, half-laugh from him. He gets it. Logically, he gets it. Everybody is somebody's dog, hanging onto a leash; but he's military, and he much prefers to not comment on any of it.

''You ignored authority,'' he starts, then pauses. ''Whether or not it was worth it, all y'can do now is handle the repercussions.''

''That's not an answer.'' Two dimples appear on either side of Jane's frown as she tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ears and leans forward. ''Forget I even—''

''I think," he interrupts calmly, but stern, ''that your self-doubt won't help you.''

Jane keeps her gaze flat, level. Perhaps if she mimics the face of apathy, Simon won't be able to see that she's hanging onto every word of his. What he says resonates; a quiet truth echoing through the air between them. The regret in her chest strikes like a bomb and for a moment, she fears the possibility of Shepherd cutting her TS/SCI clearance once and for all. She's been ignoring the thought, avoiding any evidence of worry that could shape her suspicions into something tangible, something real.

''Just thinking ahead'' she says quietly, scuffing her boot against the pavement below. "Little catastrophizing, worst-case-scenario planning."

"Doomsday prepping?" He offers and gets a little smile for that.

His chest tightens at the sight, an aching warmth interweaving his thoughts with sympathy. He looks away then, trying to collect himself. Seeking control, reaching for reason. Better judgment. Something else.

Jane studies his side profile for a moment, and Simon suddenly feels like she's too close, too comfortable in his presence. It's only a split second, the length of a heartbeat, but it's enough for Jane to take in the way he blinks his intrusive thoughts away.

''Why are you still here, anyway?'' She asks in a change of tone, plucking the cigarette from his fingers.

''Taking a break,'' he drawls, words dripping slowly as molasses from his mouth. There is no further explanation offered, no words wasted on reasons or truths. Simon blinks languidly, his lips pressing together as he closes his book for good.

''Because of Soap?'' There's an off-tone in her voice. ''I thought he is getting better already?"

Simon exhales roughly. ''No,'' he says with a lazy shrug. ''Yes.''

It's short and curt, but she doesn't let his vague hostility deter her. Jane just stares at him, impatience reflecting in her eyes, and he's not used to it; all the questions, the curiosity.

''Do you know,'' he continues slowly, taking the cigarette back to keep his hands busy, ''the number of classifications and regulations I'd have to ignore to tell you shite like this?''

It's easier than admitting that he failed his psych evaluation for a second time in three years.

Price is doing the paperwork for him, because they apparently want to negotiate some kind of terms for him. No rumors, no records, no further questions asked. Simon would be mad about it, if he wasn't so bloody tired.

It's been years of regaining control and gripping bloody bathroom sinks. Endless hours of running, shooting, yelling over comms, and saving Johnny from the stupid, stupid shit he gets up to when nobody's there to keep an eye out for him. Simon is not a reckless man—at least not when he doesn't let his rage blind him—but you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

He's not sure why he hasn't been able to admit to himself that his life has been nothing but fear, rage, vigilance, wanting, and searching, wanting, and never finding what eases the pain.

He knows that Price goes back to a Rosewood desk with whisky and cigars in the upper right drawer, before driving home to a house and a woman that were once his. Laswell has a wife named June and a flourishing garden waiting at home. Gaz goes back to a two-bedroom flat in London, decorated by a girl he met during the siege of the U.S. embassy in Urzikstan. Simon doesn't have anywhere to be—nobody's waiting for him—so he stays. For Soap, he tells himself, and everyone who's paid to listen.

The Scot's injuries happened under his watch, so he might as well play messenger for his moms, sisters and one-thousand nephews until he can travel back home. It's what a good Lieutenant does. It's what Price would do.

''Alright,'' Jane says cold, flatly. ''It's none of my business anyway.''

She declines the last drag of the cigarette when Simon offers it to her, and he can't help but feel like he's been rude; like he just ruined something delicate. A particular flavor of guilt clings to the underside of his tongue, and he's willing to answer whatever her next question might be in order to make it up to her.

He stubs out the cigarette, and it takes a moment or two before he realizes that his guilt is the reason she gave in so quickly in the first place.

''I'm not gonna tell ya,'' he says, prompting a smile to tug at the corners of her mouth; like she doesn't fully believe it, but is willing to play along.

He is too exhausted to not condemn her for it, so he covers himself in heavy silence. Simon doesn't break eye contact, doesn't move—his dark glance intervenes with the amusement in her eyes, and when the quiet stretches on for too long, her eyes dart to his exposed lips shamelessly.

''Anyone ever tell ya' to mind yer' own business, Spade?''

It coaxes a genuine laugh out of her. Simon is not sure he's ever heard her laugh before; the way the sound bubbles out of her throat, limpid and clear, and then almost turns into a snort.

''I like you,'' she says pointedly, with purpose.

"You're just bored.'' — ''And you aren't?"

Simon remains silent, and the glint in her glance grows bright, pinning. Like she just learned a secret; an inside joke.

It's unhealthy, this habit she's developed of digging her fingers in his wounds. She feels like a parasite trying to crawl under his skin, and she should probably feel far more ashamed of how much she enjoys the thrill of it.

She has heard the stories, of course. The legends about the masked, faceless man; the perfect soldier, the silent killer. Everyone affiliated with Shepherd or Shadow Company in the slightest is aware of Ghosts' reputation, and Jane had been curious to meet the man. Dead-eyed, mass of muscle. A walking depiction of death.

The warning signs about him are written in blood, telltale stories, and that half-lidded stare of his; Stay away, they say. Keep your distance.

''Don't—,'' he starts with the exhaustive sort of contempt: the kind that says he is tired and bored of this tedious game. ''Don't look at me like that.''

Jane bats her eyelashes at him. ''Like what?''

''Like you want something from me.''

''Maybe I do—''

"You don't,'' he interrupts, tongue like a blade. ''All bark no bite, last time I fucked you.''

In some twisted ways, his fury excites her. The insistence on his dominance, too, and Jane laughs out loud at words that don't sting. She's practiced; chin tipped up, meeting his disapproving stare with a smirk.

''You ever let anyone kiss you, Lieutenant?''

He looks away, hisses through his teeth in frustration. ''That what you want?''

''I think,'' Jane retorts in a tone both cruel and tender, ''you want it, too.''

The hard look in his eyes lets something uncurl in her. Something satisfied, something real.

''You do,'' she says again, and then he's on her; hand tangled in her hair, pulling her close. His grip on her scalp is not gentle, nothing about him is, and she smiles—shows teeth—at the broad display of it.

Simon stares at her for a long moment, a frustrated hum forming at the back of his throat. She can feel his breath on her face. Almost hears the whir of the wheels turning in his head; calculating, calibrating.

''You don't know what you're getting yourself into,'' he finally says, loosening his grip.

''I've done worse,'' she spits out, pulling away.

It happens somewhere between her leaning back and him not wanting her to. It happens and it's familiar, and new all at once; the way he stops her from turning away, pulls her closer by a fist of hair. He kisses her like he does everything else: a little cocky, a little mean. Their teeth clack together, and Simon kisses Jane long and searching—like he was waiting for it to happen.

Like he means it.

》 Previous Part | Next Part 》 Masterlist.

》 Tag-list: @devcica @glitterypirateduck @queen-ilmaree @widemiffyhappy @cathnoneofyourbusiness

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x f!oc #cod fanfiction #mw2 #simon riley fanfic #simon riley call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #Simon Riley smut #ghost smut #call of duty mwii #simon riley x oc #call of duty #simon ghost riley x f!oc #simon ghost riley x oc #cod mw3

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themerrywhumpofmay · 1 year

Text

Merry Whump of May

Spring 2023 Prompt List!

It's May, everyone!! Due to personal and technical difficulties, we're getting the list to you DAY ONE. WOW!

So sorry for the delay, but we have every confidence that despite this short notice, you'll all be able to put out some amazing work this year!

Without further ado, welcome to The Merry Whump of May!

Text ID:

Merry Whump of May

Spring 2023

A month-long whump writing event by @wormwriting and @painsandconfusion.

Extemporaneous style this year-!!

Write, draw, or otherwise create content based on the daily prompts! Participants and completionists will receive badges of honor for their work at the end of the month.

Create original content or fanfiction, all is welcome!

Rules

Tag each day's post with #themerrywhumpofmay, any necessary content warning (eg: #knife), and the day in the following format: #mwmday1)

Adult topics are allowed, but must be well tagged. Send a message to @themerrywhumpofmay if you'd like a second opinion.

Be kind, have fun!

Prompts:

Day One - “No pain, no gain.”

Compass

Haphephobia

Kitchen

Day Two - “Need a ride?

Wrench

Paranoia

Club

Day Three - “You're not looking so hot.”

Lightbulb

Tension

Alleyway

Day Four - “Two birds, one bullet.”

Chess Pieces

Stubborn

Tower

Day Five - “Do unto others as you would bla bla bla...”

Bow and Arrow

Stalking

Cavern

Day Six - “It's a long story.”

Knife Handle

Gagged

Under the table

Day Seven - “Write what you know.”

Box

Magic

Cell

Day Eight - “Did you read the fine print?”

Circle

Blinded

Field

Day Nine - “We'll burn that bridge when we get there.”

Collar

Lost

Roof

Day Ten - “Hit the hay.”

Key

Forgetting

Warehouse

Day Eleven - “Ready set go!”

Plastic bag

Overheating

Restaurant

Day Twelve - “Tabled for Later.”

Thumbtack

Panic attack

Ballroom

Day Thirteen - “You've made your bed, now bleed in it.”

Sander

Found

Safe Place

Day Fourteen - “Well, well, well...”

Barbed Wire

Starvation

Drain

Day Fifteen - “The power of god and anime”

Hammer

Over-Exhaustion

Hammer

Day Sixteen - “Take a break.”

Branding Iron

Moonlight

Cemetery

Day Seventeen - “Going down in flames.”

Pole

Regret

Fireplace

Day Eighteen - “No use crying over spilled blood.”

Cage

Claustrophobia

Ship

Day Nineteen - “Apples and oranges.”

Chainsaw

Surprise

Home Base

Day Twenty - “A taste of your own medicine.”

Zip ties

Bleeding out

Office

Day Twenty-one - “Devil's advocate.”

Tome

Desperation

Hiking trail.

Day Twenty-two - “You can lead a bitch to water, but you can't make them drink.”

Origami

Amnesia

Attic

Day Twenty-three - “Good things come to those who wait.”

Nine-inch-nails

Isolation

Creepy basement

Day Twenty-four - “Bent out of shape.”

Tent Spike

Dragged

Wrong place, wrong time

Day Twenty-five - “It takes two to tango.”

Hot coffee

Doubt

In line

Day Twenty-six - “Hammer time.”

Pocket watch

Itchy

Waiting room

Day Twenty-seven - “Second mouse get the cheese.”

Knife

Rug burn

Skyscraper

Day Twenty-eight - “A picture's worth a thousand words.”

Chair

Paranoia

Backseat

Day Twenty-nine - “Lost and Found

Blowtortch

Frostbite

Lake

Day Thirty - “Rain check.”

High heels

Strained

The backroom

Day Thirty-one - “Thin ice.”

Lighter

Chronic pain

Dead end

Alternative Prompt List

Titles

“Questions? Comments? Concerns? Complaints?”

“Time dies when you're having fun.”

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

“Can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.”

“Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match.”

Items

Wine Glass

Hydrochloric acid

Magnet

Teacup

Wire

Conditions

Sensory deprivation

Blindfolded

Acrophobia

Failed escape

Distress

Locations

The Middle of Nowhere

Forest

Void

Sidewalk

Shortcut

#themerrywhumpofmay #mwm2023 #long post

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mysteriesmuse · 1 year

Text

Bribery w/ Beef Wellington

Katsuki’s not sure how he got here. Sitting in your room on the plush pink brocade sofa that’s way too opulent and flowery. And he’s staring down at the decadent silver trays filled with delicious salami and cheese and slices of mandarins. The bowl of salted nuts next to the platter of truffles and chocolates. A huge beef Wellington that you’re slicing rounds off of and plating right under his nose. Oh - and you’re handing it to him. With a couple of the cheese and crackers his likes on the edge. “Not to be rude your majesty, but what am I doing here? Huh, Princess?” He asks, speaking as tentivly as his voice could. You’re already pouring him a glass of whiskey. A glistening silver mug filled with beer on the edge of the table for him as well. You continue in silence fiddling with the beading on the corset of your dress and sit on the pink velvet chair across from him. These mouthwatering table of gifts and goodies set there to distract and placate - or maybe a bargain. Your lips pursue together and disappear until you grab the flask and determinedly pop a swing of whiskey and place the bottle back on the table. A shiny bottom lip print staring back at him from the bottle. He wants to know what that gloss on your lips tastes like, but he takes a sip out of the glass that you poured for him. His questioning tongue darting out and licking the burn off his lips, “Princess?” Katsuki eyes you, looking up between blonde spikes. Your cheeks were flushed before you took a swing and that action only seemed to encourage it. Freckles of pink draped across your cheekbones as you heaved a deep sigh. The corset making the top curvature of your breasts rise Bakugou shakes his head, averting his eyes, and takes another sip, “Wouldn’t have dragged me out of my quarters on my day off if it didn’t matter. Y’er royalty,” he pauses swirling the glass with his wrists before thinking better of himself. He wanted to say and we’re friends, but instead said “- speak your mind.” His stunted sincerity must have spoken to you because you shout, “Bakugo, I need you to escort me this week. I want you to accompany me because I trust you.” Katsuki sees you eye the bottle and pours the rest into his glass to remove the temptation,

“- And I’m fully prepared to pay you extra since I’m aware you weren’t originally posted for my escort. Because I know this isn’t a big affair, mostly an event for lower nobility of the kingdom. The perfect time to train some new blood in the royal guards and the perfect time for you to take your mandatory vacation. However, to speak simply, I hate the lords and the sons of the lords. They’re all perverse men and I want someone whom I feel safe with here with me. I don’t wish to interact with them any longer than necessarily ordained by court niceties.” you pause, twisting a bejeweled ring around your finger.

“So, would this arrangement be acceptable to you? Go ahead and name your price.” Katsuki is stunned at first, not at the offer, but by the way you’ve laid out this whole table with things he likes. Things that you shouldn’t know he likes. You’ve arranged all this food and the new silver polish and wet stone that he’s seen peaking out from underneath the ottoman as a means of getting him to agree. As if you weren’t sure he was going to already. He sets his drink down onto the table and stares into your bold face; tears lining the bottom of your waterline. Your lashes blinking rapidly as if to stow them away, except you maintain eye contact with him. Him, a royal guard and you don’t reach for a napkin or your handkerchief. No, you’ve laid it out raw for him. Katsuki pats the cushion next to him, “Come here and I’ll tell you my decision.” Finally you break eye contact, sniffing as you plop on your couch next to him. Once again eyeing his glass of whiskey on the table. Like you’re itching to get a decline over with and to drink your troubles away for the night. Katsuki pulls his kerchief out of his breast pocket and presses it into his fist, gently pressing his thumb against the folded fabric and padding the light streaks of tears against your face. You stare up at him in tender surprise. A gentle giant as he blots your face without hesitation. His crisp carmine eyes still examining your face as his voice picks up Bakugou’s semblance of a whisper. It comes out in a deep growl, “Of course I accept, princess. Your lovely gifts and effort aside. I’d have done it regardless of how you asked.” A gasp gets caught in your throat as more tears of relief flood down your face. Suddenly his warm calloused hands are all over your face the soaked kerchief forgotten in sake of him trying to keep up with his thumbs. And as your tears start to slow down, the week of preparing and stressing over the outcome of this proposition escaping in a few loose hiccups Katsuki takes it as his turn to speak again, retracting his hands - you grab hold of his wrists, staring at your lap as you weakly beg for him to keep his comforting touch in place. Katsuki sports what’s a dashingly prince-like smile as he continues stroking your face, “I promise to keep you safe and be by your side for their whole visit. Vacation be damned if I’m the only one here who can do the job to your liking then I’ll be there.” You swallow and open your mouth a few times. Only for hoarse noises to come out and instead you let your hands slip into your lap and nod at him in thanks. Katsuki still has that dashing grin on his face when you finally look up at him. And you suddenly feel very hot in this room and in the gown. “Now, do you have signals?” He inquires, watching your face morph as you shake your head. “All well then,” he crosses his arms against his pecs, “if this is a proper mission then we have to have a code or signal. Make it discreet so they don’t catch on and get offended.” You raise a brow, “Ah well I suppose that could be helpful . . . and a bit fun, but Bakugou you’re already so intimidating I think your presence along will ward them off. It’s the most notable thing on your resume.” He chuckles and you can feel it through the cushion, “Suppose I’ll just give them the middle finger if they get too chummy with you then huh?” You laugh, scratching the side of your face, “I suppose that would do just fine. If only that didn’t incite an upset from the lords.” Katsuki laughs at then again, more of a bark than anything. And it makes your own smile appear for the first time this evening. “We’ll work on it, princess.” Katsuki then gestures to the table, “but since you put out all the stops let’s enjoy shall we? I know I’m not the only one who has favorites on this table. Chocolate?” You don’t even answer and he’s already plucked several off the platter and has slid the plate onto your lap.

#mysteriesmusing #katsuki bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo katsuki #princess reader

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