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modernsapphicism · 2 days

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Pancakes for Dinner

inspired by the song of the same name by lizzie mcalpine. a fetchen story as told by karen's letter to gretchen.

warning: light angst, possibly unrequited love

Gretch,

Hey. I know I haven't been in contact for weeks since I came home in India, and I'm really sorry for that. I thought I needed some space after graduation to figure things out for myself for a while especially now that high school is really over.

It kinda sucks, doesn't it? I thought life would be all good after Spring Fling in junior year, but somehow everything became different. Some are good different, others are bad different. Mostly good, though. At least we all graduated, and thanks to everyone, I didn't have to fall back a year to catch up with my grades.

Gretchie, I'm in the airport right now, waiting for my flight back to the US.

Funny how I've been riding airplanes since I was small and it still makes me nervous. I mean, it shouldn't be logical for a machine that heavy to be able to fly, right? It has no feathers like a bird, and its wings doesn't even flap. It just doesn't make sense, Gretch.

I am coming home. I plan to, at least. And I will be there by your side the next thing you know.

But in the rare case that I don't make it home, I want you to know something.

The truth is, all these years being by your side has been the best years of my life.

Sure, there are ups and downs especially when Regina gets cranky and lashes out on us, or when school sucks so hard that it's stressing us out. It was always you who held my hands though it all and made things better.

I love the days when it would just be the two of us hanging out. When we go to the mall and shop for clothes, when we go salons and have our nails done, when we go to festivals and carnivals and try on all the rides that we can go to, and take photos for our scrapbook.

I especially love it even when we're chilling in your house when your parents aren't around, on the couch wearing our pajamas with popcorns and colas in the table in front of us, a cheesy movie playing in the TV. You would always snuggle next to me, hold my hand underneath the blanket, and lay your head on my shoulder. You would fall asleep on the middle of our third movie and I would always be too scared to move, not wanting to wake you up and ruin your peace so I just sit still until the credits roll.

Days when you would sleepover at mine and we would talk and talk about everything and anything until the sun rises. How we would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and make the kitchen our own little bubble. You would always pretend that the spatulas were microphones and sing random tunes just to keep me company while I cook pancakes for dinner. I would always be in awe of your voice and how you carry yourself when you perform as if you were on a stage, spotlight set on you, and there were only the two of us in the whole world that existed in that very moment.

I know you still love her, Gretch. It shows in the way you look at her and the way you cling to her every word. It has been like that for years but you just don't realize it. You would always say that you were just doing everything because you're a great friend. It's not like that, though. It hasn't been since ninth grade.

I know I was too much of a coward to say something, even now, I'm still scared. I don't want to taint whatever we have right now and risk losing it all. I can't lose you, Gretchen.

I don't want to keep on pretending that seeing you pay attention to someone else doesn't hurt. I don't want to keep on telling you that I'm happy you're with someone else when I'm clearly not.

But you couldn't have known.

Gretch, I don't want to say something, not yet, but I hope by now you probably have an idea what I'm trying to tell you. I can't be too forward in case it all comes crashing down on me and I don't think I can handle this going south, at least not right now.

I'll see you when I see you, and hopefully I'll finally be brave by then.

Always yours,

Karen.

#karen shetty #gretchen wieners #fetchen #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #karen x gretchen #song fic #kinda #idk what to tag this i just whipped this out a couple of mins ago #dribble drabble #angst #light angst #?

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robbybirdy · 2 days

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Boston Cream Cake Pt II

Hey, every birdy. Now that you have seen the original recipe for the Boston Cream Cake. You will understand that I can’t replicate it. I was talking to Pop (my dad) about what I should do as a milestone marker for 1K followers, and he suggested that I share this recipe with you all and then do the math. For those of you who don’t know, math has never really been my strong suit.

So I have no idea how this is going to go. I am doing this post a bit differently. I am going to write up my equation and measurements that I got, and then I am going to bake the cake with the measurements and see if it is right.

Another reason why I needed to do this was because I didn't want to use a lot of eggs. In the whole recipe that I converted I am only going to be using 9 eggs, which seems like a lot but in contrast, really isn’t.

The equation that I came up with was:

Lbs = cups/ 100 = measurement then convert to grams = grams / 2 = measurement needed

This makes no sense written like this. But let me show you how I figured it out with the first ingredient of the cake shortening.

The original recipe calls for 21 lbs of shortening.

21 lbs of shortening are 43.81 cups. 43.81/100 equals 0.43 cups. 0.43 cups is equal to 93 grams. 93 grams divided by 2 is 46.5 grams or 3 Tablespoons. So it is a bit complicated but I want to see if my math works.

I hope you all are still with me, and didn’t fall asleep with all the numbers.

So with that being said. For the cake this is my number and for the simplicity of everything. I am going to keep the ingredients in grams.

47 grams shortening

136 grams of cake flour (All Purpose minus 1 tablespoon. And add 1 tablespoon of cornstarch)

84 grams sugar

1 tsp baking powder

½ tsp salt

1 tsp milk

4 eggs

43 grams water

½ vanilla

½ tsp butter

The directions for the recipe will be the same. Put the cake shorting, flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and milk powder in a large bowl.

Add water, vanilla, and butter slowly until ingredients come together, making sure to scrape down the sides.

Next, you are going to add the eggs and mix for 3 minutes.

Scrape down the bowl and continue until well mixed.

This is where it is going to be different.

Instead of using the 1-pound 8 oz pans. I am going to be using 9-inch cake pans. Because I don’t want to slice the cake in half horizontally. I think and hope that it will work. Only future Robby will know that information.

Now onto the filling. Using the same equation for the cake recipe.

390 grams of milk

102 grams of sugar

2 Tbsps Cornstarch

5 eggs

½ tsp vanilla

Put all the ingredients in a pan and cook until thickened. Ice the cake with frosting.

The frosting, using the same equation

113 grams sugar

½ Tbsp Karo syrup

3 teaspoons water

½ Tablespoon Shortening

6 Tablespoons Cocoa Powder

¼ tsp vanilla

Put all ingredients in a pan. Heat until smooth. Ice the cake on top only. Hopefully, my math is correct and it makes only one cake.

Prediction: I think it is going to be a balanced dessert if nothing else. Because from the looks of it, the cake itself isn’t extremely sweet. It’s the filling and the frosting that is sweet. And I hope that it comes out looking and tasting good. I will always have my parent’s voice in my head “it doesn’t matter what it looks like, as long as it tastes good!”

Result:

MY MATH WAS CORRECT.

I am so excited that it came out, and was edible. I can’t believe it. I mean I can, but I am a bit shocked. Because again math was never really my strong suit back in school. Even with saying that though one math class that I took in college was literally a math class called “Math of Cooking.”

Everyone told me that it tasted really good. My only criticism about this particular cake and my measurements would be to add a little bit more flour to the cake recipe. And maybe even a little bit more milk. Because when I took the cakes out of the oven they kinda looked like pancakes rather than cakes. So if I were to make the recipe again (which I think I might because it was fun to make. )

As we were going to bed, my mom told me that her only criticism was that she needed more custard in the middle. She said that it was good and she just needed a bit more. This was nice to hear. I had forgotten how to make a custard because I didn't temper the eggs before putting them on the stove. So there was a little part of me that was afraid that I was putting sweet scrambled eggs on my cake.

My dad told me that he really liked the frosting and how I put it together. You should have seen us at Walmart the three of us (Mom, Pop, and I) trying to figure out what in the world “royal fudge” was and he was the one who ended up figuring it out.

The moments when I am cutting the cake are sometimes the longest. Because some people have the dessert and they don’t want to say anything until I am in the room. To give me the results. Sometimes I don’t know if they are quiet because they are stifling a laugh about how weird it tastes, or if they are quiet because of how good it is. Thankfully with this cake, it was the latter. And I am so grateful. They all said that it was really good.

It wasn’t overly sweet. This is something that I strive for when baking because a dessert that is too sweet is not something that I want to give my family. I don’t know. It’s just a personal thing. I just don’t like overly, sickeningly sweet desserts.

I am so over the moon that this worked. Thank you all for your likes, comments reblogs, and follows. You have helped me in more ways than one. And I hope that you continue to follow my journey.

Thank you once again for helping me get to 1000 followers. I love each and every one of you, and I hope to see you in the next post.

Oh my gosh this was a long one. But, I had such a fun time putting this post together. I hope you liked it as much as I did.

Here is the condensed version of the recipe. Without the equation.

Boston Cream Cake

47 g shortening

136 g Cake Flour (I used all-purpose flour + 1 Tbsp of Cornstarch)

84 g sugar

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp milk

4 eggs

43 g water

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/2 tsp butter

Put cake shortening, flour, sugar baking powder, salt, and milk powder in a very large bowl. Add water, vanilla, and butter flavor slowly until the ingredients come together. Scrape down the bowl. Next, add eggs, slowly mix for 3 minutes, scrape the bowl, and continue until well mixed. I used 2 - 9-inch cake pans, (if you want them to come out more like cake and less like pancakes,) I suggest using 2 8-inch cake pans. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes. Spread with cream filling (recipe Follows)

Boston Cream Filling :

390 g milk

102 g sugar

2 Tbsp Cornstarch

5 eggs

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/4 tsp salt

Put all ingredients in a pan and cook until thickened. The next time I make this recipe I will do this part differently. I will heat up the milk and sugar first. And when it gets to simmer I will temper my eggs and cornstarch. and I will add the vanilla and salt when it is all done. Ice the cake with frosting

Chocolate frosting for Boston Cream Cake:

113 g sugar

1/2 Tbsp Karo Syrup

3 teaspoons water

1/2 Tablespoon shortening

6 Tbsps cocoa powder

2 Tbsps milk

1/4 tsp vanilla

1/8 tsp salt

Put all ingredients in a pan, and heat until smooth. Ice the cake on the top only. Or where it wants to go. And enjoy

#baking #baking therapy #long post #Boston Cream Cake #Cake #West Point Women's Club Cookbook #Good To the Corps #Thank you again #for 1k followers #once i started typing i couldnt stop #cw long post

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skiesofrosie · 15 hours

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sometimes, it's hard to be good

pairing: joe liebgott x reader

genre: fluff, conversations about life

a/n: horrendously self-indulgent, but i hope you enjoy.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I don’t think I’m a very good person,” you blurt.

“The fuck?” Joe says, confused.

It weighs on your shoulders like a stack of bricks, a truth that sends your mind into a frenzy. Joe noticed it a few days earlier, the way you started to cook, and wash the dishes, despite the half and half system you both have. The letters you sent to check-in on old acquaintances, despite them having never bothered with you. Your choice of books, a sudden affinity for self-help that you shove into your most hidden shelves.

“Are you having a fuckin’ identity crisis or somethin’?” Joe stopped you, just as you were about to take care of both his and your laundry for the third time that week. “Or do I pick up the chores too slowly, ‘cause I can do better.”

“No! No!” You said, a little flustered, then laughed to cover it up. “I’m just doin’ it all ‘cause I care about you.”

He kissed your forehead then, a little unsure. Truth be told, the overcompensation stems from the lack of doing enough–or at least, feeling like it. Joe is your other half, and he picks up well on his half too. If you cook, he will clean. If you do laundry once, he’ll take care of it next (even if he tends to mix the whites and the colors). But the insecurity seeps into your head like poison, the misbelief now running through your blood, and it makes you shoulder more than you actually can.

You slowed down too, because you realized the need to feel like a good person is inherently selfish. To really be good comes from the choices you make, and sometimes, the greater good requires you to be the villain.

Right now though, that’s all mixed up in your head, which means you feel like a piece of shit.

“Where’d ya get that idea?” He asks, now setting Dick Tracy down to pay you full attention. “Is someone tellin’ ya that shit? ‘Cause I’ll kill a–”

“It’s me,” you interject, shaking your head as you slap your book to your chest. “That's what I think.”

Curiosity washes over, as he furrows his eyebrows together and stares at you as if you’re dumb. The both of you are sitting on your balcony, the sun shining streaks of light across his face, and you wonder if you’re worthy of a man as strong and beautiful as him.

The summer today is glorious, a little sweat trickling down your temples, but better than the way your nose freezes in the winter. Joe and you have made this a routine every Sunday, afternoons spent outside in each other’s company, to catch up on some reading. Your little apartment faces the San Francisco life, and even if the stench of running gas is discomforting, it’s still home. For Joe, it’s homeostasis; a reminder that the war is now behind him, and the domesticity you both have always dreamed of, is now real.

Today though, in the pits of your overthinking, you’re hardly reading the words as you scan the pages.

“Hey,” he gently probes. “What’s goin’ on up there?”

His fingers are creeping towards yours fiddling with each other on your lap.

“I,” you start, but find it difficult to reason. When his hand slips into yours, squeezing it in encouragement, you continue, but not without a sigh. “I found a photo from when we were in high school, and…I realized how many of them I don’t talk to anymore. Friends that have drifted apart, friends that I’ve cut off, or they’ve cut me off. It got me thinking, really thinking, about all the decisions I’ve made, all the people I’ve loved and lost, all the mistakes I’ve made and it all crashed down on me like I hit a brick wall head-on with your cab.”

You stop mid-thought, paying a good look at him listening intently to you, eyes a twinge downcast.

“It made me think that maybe I’m not doing enough, or I’m doing nothing right. That I’ve been selfish, and I have this urge to uproot my entire life and start afresh,” you finish.

He looks into the distance, fingers still entwined with yours as he collates the rush of thoughts. It makes his heart ache to know that you feel this way, because to him, the world owes you for your kindness. But he admires the way you know when it’s time to abandon your good and patience, because it fails to be returned.

“Joe?” He hears you call.

He speaks. “If that’s your logic, than all of us are fuckin’ shitheads.”

You gawk at his response, sputtering, “what do you mean?”

“Sweetheart,” he says, then turns to you unflinchingly. “I spent three years shooting Krauts just ‘cause I could. I did what I was told, convinced myself that I’d be doing the world a favor. Those were actual fuckin’ choices I made, and now I have to live with ‘em in my head.”

“But,” you say, “those people were shooting at you Joe.”

“Not all of ‘em,” he says, shaking his head. “Not all of ‘em.”

A silence falls over you both. It never occurred to you how difficult it is to actually be good–to make the right decision all the time. Even the sun, with its daylight to the skies, streaming into people’s homes to wake them up for another day, blinds you if you look at it for too long. It burns when you get too close, blazes ‘til there’s a drought.

We are all made up of imperfections, after all.

“We fuck up,” Joe adds, quietly. “Hell, we fuck up with each other too, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile, “you caused all my whites to go pink last week.”

“Hey,” he lets go of your hand to smack you. “I bought ya your favorite cookies at Betty’s to make up for it!”

You can’t help the laugh that breaks loose of you, despite the heaviness in your chest. In an infinite list, one of the reasons you love him is his ability to pull you out of your own mind, and make you laugh ‘til tears pool in your eyes.

“Seriously though, we ain’t bad people just ‘cause we fuck up. We’re shitheads if we don’t try to do better,” he says, his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles. He throws his other hand up, the comic falling onto the ground. “I try everyday to be a better fuckin’ person, but I slip up. You will too. But at least ya try, you know?”

You know he’s right. Like the chocolate cookies he bought for you to make good on the clothes he ruined; like the moments you apologize to each other in petty fights, and figure out a way to make things better–even if you falter, all there is to it, is taking the next step. So even if you still worry, you can at least do that. And what better than to have Joe Liebgott by your side, a man who will never speak anything less than the truth.

“Baby steps, right?” You nod.

He nods, standing up, walking to you and pulling you to your feet. He slips his arms around your waist, as you cross yours behind his neck, pecking you once, twice, and you’re about to make out with him on your balcony–

‘Til a blaring honk from the road makes you jump apart.

“Fuck!” He yells at the road, and you wince, but with amusement. “I’m tryna get some, okay!”

This time you swat at his shoulder, as he guffaws, starts leaving kisses on your neck. You melt into him.

Baby steps, definitely.

“Oh and sweetheart,” he breathes against your skin, and you hum. “You’re the best fuckin’ person I know on this planet.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

@she-wolf09231982 a little snippet of Joe :D

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott

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icewindandboringhorror · 18 days

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More misc. daily life pictures and such

#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1 & 2 - Very bright pretty looking sky !#2. HUGE icicle that looked like you could kill someone with it or something.. Pulled from near a gutter on the side of a building #3. & 4 & 5 - various images from a silly party I had where I pretended to be some elf king turning like 204 years old lol (also not like #a REAL party. Only my roommates were there really and we're all in the same household bubble.#just to clarify. I would never dare have a large party anyway given #my hermitous nature but on top of that.. didn't want there to be some implication that I'm having a Party while covid is still ongoing lol.#NEVER.. But I do love dressing up as some fantasy character so much.. The only thing that could ever bring a true hermit wizard #to engage with others socially is the prospect of connecting it somehow to fantasy worlds and costumes lol. One must simply dress up #as a silly 200 year old man from time to time and pretend you've never seen a balloon before in your life. etc.#6. bapy boye... feets #7. The main food that I made for the elderly elf man 'party'. which was a Deconstructed Beef Wellington (kind of as ajoke since I watch s #o many silly cooking competition shows and they always make stuff 'deconstructed' at the last minute when under time limits or whatever.)#I've wanted to make beef wellington a few times but Ithink to do it well I'd need like..an actual kitchen and a lot of time and #an oven that fully works to bake things and etc. etc. So I thought this would be an easier method. A thick steak cut round to kind of mimi #c the round tenderloin or whatever it is in a wellington. instead of the puff pastry being wrapped around - I just did star shaped cut outs #of pastry and baked them and put them on top (to go with the star theme). instead of mushroom duxelles being wrapped around in pastry #its in a little circle under the steak. and instead of mustard being brushed onto the meat I made a mustard gravy sauce type of thing #Then of course asparagus on the side.. my favorite... Though I know some wellington #also has a layer of prosciutto I think. or I saw one person use crepes. I didn't feel it was necessary to incorporate that too lol #8. bapy son helping me do a giant puzzle that took me hours and I had no idea it was actually that large of a puzzle #until I started putting it together and for some reason it made me stressed by the end instead of relaxed lol.. puzzle fatigue #photo diary

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enhanced-operatives-division · 5 days

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for requests perhaps hivemind again? or charlie?

I'm sorry this took so long I was fighting so hard to work out a Charlie design BUT!! First, Hivemind doodles...I got FAR too into it with him..

Text: Looks at you with my big round wet eyes.

Text: Full of Joy & Whimsy VS The Horrors

I think Hivemind would wear a lot of flannel outside of work. I like him being a little like a stereotypical lumberjack maybe? I think he'd like wood working, yk like bug hotels and little wooden carvings

Alas for Charlie I had to search up PPE for welders...

It took me days to get to a point where I liked his design but I'm really happy with it :3

+ 2 pages in my sketchbook filled! Turns out I miscounted and I only had 28 pages left!! So far we're at 8/28, or just over 1/4!!

#idk how much your childhood was ruined by the movie “the magic roundabout” but my design for charlie reminds me of the evil spring guy #i think it's the mustache but i digress #this was a fun challenge :D!! I actually had a better idea for his outfit over his looks so it was interesting to work backwards #charlie caliente #i CANNOT SPELL THAT LAST NAME!!!!#also my hivemind is distantly inspirsed by seshi (?) from dungeon meshi (???) eventhough i know very little about it #there's something abt him.........#alas im easily pleased #a man who can cook is a man i can love #ieytd #[agent moose's art]#the hivemind #hivemind #cameo of solaris #commander solaris #she deserves it #ohhhh zoraxis operatives...your endless whimsy............ignore the horrors..............it gets better i prommy....#i should make a list of who i have and haven't designed actually #i don't count fabby as being designed though because I don't like it so much #idk i need to listen to call me cruella on loop (that song is SO HER...) to design her...

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noisytenant · 4 months

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i think it would be good to just write a zine about doing the dishes and negotiating around dish issues because it seems like the #1 roommate problem

#indexed post #the dishes are just an entry point for various other strategies but like i think its def part of it #I think the idea needs to cook for a little though

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carcrashcockrash · 1 year

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auuggghg wauughh im dying from a deadly diseas. its called ate pizza and macdonalds and soy all in one day disease an d symptoms include exploding. u mgiht want to step back brother

#figjting for my life on the toilet rn you have no idea #it seemed like such a good idea. it seemed like such a good idea.#the pizza. that was like 12 hours ago at this point. and you know i could feel it but i was ok. you know.#same goes for macdonalds. ok sure mcflurry and nuggets and a few fries floatin around in there for like 8 hrs. but it was fine. i was fine.#i get home just before 11pm right. sleepy guy. nap on the couch for an hour. i should have gone to bed. but no.#my hubris. my desire for prawn fried rice. i simply had to have it.#looking back i can see how the universe tried to stop me. no onions. no sesame oil. but i pushed on. i was determined.#i have onion powder. i have peanut oil. you cannot stop me. the battle cry has sounded. the war has begun.#whisk and cook the egg. chop chop chop the bacon and fry with the prawn and garlic. add spices. veggies. and of course rice #add the substitute peanut oil. a... generous amount of oyster sauce. its good. and of course how could we forget the soy sauce #ha. ha ha ha. hahahaahaha. ha. god.#glug glug glug. tipping the nearly-empty bottle of costco soy sauce upside-down into the wok. hissssss #mix mix mix. taste test. adjust a little. shame about the onion but otherwise good. cant wait to eat a bowl.#scoop scoop scoop. fried rice in a bowl. sit and play some turf war while it cools. eat eat eat. listen to sci guys podcast. life is good.#perhaps it would have been fine if it had ended here. my decisions would not have been without consequence but they would be bearable.#it did not end there.#another bowl. another mistake. ingesting more and more soy. gorging myself upon the garden of eden. wrath was fast approaching #i dont know if i really need to explain this next part. to be honest. i think you can probably guess. the pain. the shartblasting. you know #anyway it took me so long to write these tags that im actually mostly fine now and in bed with a kitty so life is good #tomorrow i will eat even more fried rice and maybe even buy that one chocolate soy milk even though it kills me but it tastes sooo good #i will never learn my lesson ever amen #mine #wow long tags. hiiiii if u read all this

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miserycanary · 1 month

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BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you.

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night.

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind.

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not.

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well.

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle.

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt.

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him.

God, what has he done?

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #light angst #ghost mw2 #ghost angst #ghost fic #simon ghost x you #canary’s melodies

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cow-smells · 7 months

Text

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji imagine #one piece sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader

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littledovesnow · 4 months

Text

a growing family

request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus

You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.

“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.

Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.

Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.

She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.

You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”

Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”

“I’m late.”

It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”

Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”

Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”

“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”

Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”

It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.

Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”

Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”

You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”

-----

Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.

He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.

Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.

“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.

He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.

“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.

Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”

You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”

“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.

Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.

“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”

Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”

Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”

Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”

You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.

Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”

-----

It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.

Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.

An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”

Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”

Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.

“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”

Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.

“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”

Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.

Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”

You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”

Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”

Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”

You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.

“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”

“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.

Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”

Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.

You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.

-----

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.

“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.

The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”

“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.

“Coryo.”

Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”

You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”

There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”

Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”

Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”

Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”

You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.

“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”

You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”

-----

Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.

Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.

“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.

“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”

Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.

You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.

“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.

“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.

Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”

“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”

-----

a/n: send requests here

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #hunger games imagine #hunger games tbosas #hunger games x reader

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satoruhour · 10 months

Note

toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃‍♀️

PAYBACK

a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!

wc: 2.1k

warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut

there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn.

and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.

it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.

it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.

the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.

with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—

“those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.

“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.

you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”

bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.

and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.

“use your words, sweetheart.”

“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.

you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”

“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”

toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.

toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.

but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”

you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.

“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”

“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”

“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.

“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.

“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.

“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”

“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”

by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.

“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck.

“that’s— okay,” you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”

and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”

you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.

“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.

your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.

your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.

thirsts and drabble requests are open!

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ozzgin · 3 months

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A nice character with a yandere split persona. The Yandere persona was born out of the abandonment of the character by a loved one, maybe mom. Did he kill her just so she could stay? Maybe. Only the Yandere persona knows, the character is oblivious, he just knows his mom left him. But he oddly feels ok about it as though the situation has been reconciled... which is weird to him.

Now he meets and falls in love with yn. She must not leave. It's f around and find out

Btw I love you ❤️❤️❤️ The Yokai series is my fave

Oooh, I’ve been thinking of a context for your idea and I somehow got stuck on a serial killer who is unaware of it most of the time. Since you mentioned abandonment and obsession, my mind wandered to some of the typical habits, such as collecting trophies. I’ve also been wanting to try my hand at writing a serial killer, so hopefully it turns out to your liking. (Sending back the love, always a pleasure to see your comments ❤)

Although let me include a little disclaimer, because I am aware many things in the sphere of true crime are problematic: this in no way glorifies or romanticizes serial killers. Just a reminder that this is a work of fiction and all behaviors displayed are for the sake of an interesting story, not to be admired in real life.

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

You're temporarily staying with a kind, quiet man renting out a room in the house he inherited. It's just the two of you, and a locked bedroom he claims to be vacant. Yet as night falls, you hear the whispered arguing of a voice you don't recognize. Is anyone else there?

Content/TW: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror

You must break the pattern today, or the loop with repeat tomorrow

He stares at the locked drawer of the bureau. The clock ticking in the background fades into an irritating buzz, drumming against his ears at irregular intervals like a swarm of insects. Once again, he cannot remember where the key is. Yet he does not feel compelled to search for it. It cannot be anything of significance, he tells himself. Forgotten knick-knacks, perhaps. Despite the apparent lack of curiosity, he is drawn here every morning. He wakes up, carefully folds the sheets, and goes to sit in the office. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Until, at last, the noon hour strikes, and the hallways are flooded with ghastly chimes.

Lately, however, other sounds have taken over the usual silence that envelops the house. The main door rattles faintly before opening with a creak.

“They were out of our bread rolls. I got a baguette instead.”

It’s you.

He stands up, as if startled from deep slumber, and hurries downstairs to greet you. He takes the grocery bags from your hands, flashing a smile of gratitude. Somehow, the idea of another person living here is still foreign to him. He’s gotten so used to the solitude, the quietness of the house. Time stands still when there’s no one else to remind you of it.

You glance up at the tall man, noticing his slight frown.

“Another brain fog?” You ask, worried.

“Don’t mind me. It’s a morning routine at this point”, he jokes. “More importantly, what would you like for breakfast?”

He always cooks for both of you. Initially, you were rather hesitant to go for his offer. You’d been looking for temporary accommodation and stumbled upon his advertisement. A cozy, vintage house the man had inherited from his lamentably departed mother, with one too many spare rooms. He had no need for all the space, he said in his description. You paid him a visit and were taken aback by his appearance. A massive, muscular frame that did not fit the rest of his mannerisms and features. He was soft-spoken, polite, and terribly shy. His eyes reflected the kind of gloom to be expected from anyone in his situation.

A sweet, gentle soul looking for company. On top of that, if you are to be technical, he’s a housemate difficult to compete against. Well-kept, mannered, organized, and thoughtful. He keeps to himself. You’d learned, soon after moving in, that he suffers from the occasional brain fog and memory loss. He goes for walks at odd hours to clear his mind. Enjoys reading in his office, although you’ve caught him just staring into space many times. Terribly inconvenient for the poor lad, you imagine.

The house itself is also not a bad deal by any means. Old fashioned, littered with trinkets and paintings. “My mother liked to collect many things”, he’d told you. It certainly has personality, to put it mildly. Some belongings are more bizarre than others: portraits of faceless people, with features smudged or distorted, doll heads in pompous, feathered collars hanging in clusters across the musty walls. Peculiar, but manageable.

Only at night does it become unsettling.

“Going for a walk?”

You’re curled in one of the armchairs, flipping through a magazine you found. It’s been hours since your little breakfast together and now the sun is beginning to set. The man is buttoning up his coat, standing in the doorframe and gazing at you with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starting to detach a little. Maybe some fresh air will help.”

It’s nice, he thinks, having you here. He didn’t expect much when he ventured to rent out a room. He just wanted to hear the murmur of life again. Ever since his mother has passed…when did it happen, again? Better yet, how did it happen? Christ, he can’t remember. The last memory he has of her is not something to cherish. She was angrily shoving him out of the way, visibly annoyed by his cries and pleading. “Please don’t leave me”, he kept croaking in a pathetic tone, dragging his knees like a beggar. Then it’s all black. Black, like the cover they kept over her body at the morgue, to hide the mutilated remains. Black, like the tie he struggled to knot before her funeral. At that time, the sheets of her bed were still scattered, as if she never left. He could almost see her there, reflected onto the mirror’s surface – rather dirty as a matter of fact, he should wipe it soon – sitting melancholically on the edge of the mattress.

To think he’d be hearing footsteps again. A soothing voice. Even if it’s temporary, your presence in the house has been a blessing. Even if you must leave eventually. His lips purse involuntarily.

You hear the door close, followed by the key twisting inside the lock. You’re alone now.

With haste, you get up and sprint upstairs. You pull out a hairpin from your pocket and discreetly insert it in the cylinder. Today you find out if the spare bedroom truly is as vacant as your housemate claims.

When you first viewed the house, he mentioned that only this room will remain locked. It was his mother’s and he’d rather not look at it, he said. Let it gather dust, for all he cares.

Only at night, you’ve been hearing someone else’s voice. It didn’t happen immediately. Weeks after you’d moved in, you woke up thirsty and tiptoed on your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On your return, you were surprised to see dim light coming from underneath the door of the forbidden bedroom. Visitors of your housemate? You hurried back into your bed, not wanting to intrude. But the following night you jolted up from the same mumbled voice. Strange that he’d invite someone over this late - twice in a row! - without saying a word to you. Even more, they were arguing like this. Curiosity got the better of you, so you snuck out and placed your cupped ear against the wall.

“No, no, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s different. She’s different from the others.” A deep, ragged voice retorted angrily.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, a fist smashing against something, then glass shattering over exasperated, shouted curses. You ran back to your room, baffled. Who on Earth was there? You could feel your heart throbbing inside your chest.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough. You marched over to your housemate, demanding to know who this stranger was. He stared at you, wide eyed and incredulous. “There’s no one else here, dear. Just you and me.” Nonsense. You knew what you heard. You’d been wide awake! He gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead. “Could it be that you’re sick? Weather has been dreadful lately.” You scanned his face with hitched breath. Was he mocking you? Yet his features betrayed no such intent. The man seemed genuinely worried; face twisted in a caring frown.

Then what? A ghost? An intruder that fancied having a chat in a dead woman’s bedroom?

You fiddle with the pin until you hear the click. Finally. Surely whoever has been frequenting the place must’ve left some clues behind. You carefully open the door and peek inside. A broken mirror and some furniture covered in webs. There’s a lingering rusty smell that tickles your nostrils, and soon enough you find the source. Next to the old bed lays a cloth splattered red. On top of it, a leather folder from which scalpels and other surgical tools fell out haphazardly. Blood? Your mouth curls in disgust. You crouch to the floor to inspect the odd items and notice a jar glistening from underneath the bed. You pull it towards you and give it a rattle. Nothing heavy. You lift the jar into the light for a better look and gasp.

Fingernails.

“Oh, I forgot to put those away.”

It’s the same deep voice you’ve been hearing at night. Your stomach drops and you turn, slowly, towards the entrance. Horror is swiftly replaced by confusion once you realize it’s none other than your housemate.

“Y-you’re back from your walk?” You blurt out.

“Walk?” He inquires. “Ah, that’s what he told you.” He steps towards you and lowers himself to your level with a grin.

“Have you come to say hello?” He points towards the tall, shattered mirror. “This is (Y/N), mother. See, I told you she’s stunning. You didn’t believe me.”

He ruffles your hair with a boldness completely unfamiliar.

Nausea overwhelms you and your ears ring in panic. Whatever is happening right now is beyond your understanding.

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I recognize that speech all too well. You want to run away.”

Within seconds, he grabs one of the scalpels and points it towards your throat, poking your skin with its cold tip.

“Now, don’t embarrass me in front of her like that. Do you know how hard it is to convince this bitch of anything? I told her you’re not like them, (Y/N). Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Them?” You whisper, lungs devoid of air.

“Come, let’s put this with the others first.” He pockets the scalpel and lifts you up by the hand, tenderly kissing your fingers in the process. “Then we can talk.”

You follow him into the office, and he unlocks one of the desk drawers. Against your better judgment, you stretch over his shoulder and glance inside. ID cards of various women, jewelry, lipsticks. Teeth. Fingernails.

You want to cry.

He nonchalantly dumps the contents of the jar into the drawer and slams it back shut, then throws himself in the chair and pats his thigh, eyeing you. With a sob, you clumsily climb onto his lap.

“Back to our matters. What were you planning on doing?”

“I just wanted to lay in bed.”

He takes out the scalpel and draws a line across your cheek. It stings.

“Don’t lie, (Y/N). You have nothing to gain from being naughty with me.” He coos, placing a kiss over the fresh wound.

“I wanted to run away.” You confess, petrified.

“Good. Do you now understand what happens if you try to run away?”

You briefly look at the drawer and nod.

“I knew you would. You’re so smart.” He strokes your hair fondly. “Not an easy decision to make, mind you. I love you more than anything in this world. Who’d enjoy killing their one and only?”

The man ponders his next words with a hum.

“Don’t count on getting away while he’s awake, either.” He taps his temple and chuckles. “He has no idea and won’t stop you, but I can easily find you again.”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as you stare at your plate, background sounds melting into shapeless static. After a couple more minutes, the man turns off the stove and places the food on the table with a cheerful whistle.

“Eat up!” He encourages you.

You hold onto your fork with faintly trembling hands.

“This might be the last breakfast I cook for you, after all. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” His last sentence trails off and he smiles, dejected.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could…stay here instead.”

He gazes at you in disbelief.

“Truly? I-…That’d be fantastic.” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head, a deep red blush spreading over his cheeks. “Do excuse my rudeness. To be honest with you, I’ve grown quite fond of our arrangement. I really do like having you here.”

You return the smile without responding.

“Most exciting news. I’ll get the documents from the office after we eat, so we can draft a new lease.”

“That’d be lovely”, you answer curtly.

“Say, have you by any chance stumbled upon a small key around the house? I wanted to finally unlock the drawer upstairs, but I can’t remember where I could’ve left it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure it’s nothing important, anyways. Old memorabilia, most likely.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere killer #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere serial killer #yandere original character #horror #split personality #tw yandere

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moonstruckme · 3 months

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hi lovely!! if you're comfortable writing something like this, could I maybe request poly!marauders where reader who is normally very independent but gets submissive at times, but not in a sexual way? like she just gets overwhelmed and wants the boys to be in charge for a while, but maybe the relationship is still new and she feels too needy and can't bring herself to tell them and eventually they realize?

again, no worries if you're not comfortable writing this, just thought I'd ask <3

Thank you for requesting gorgeous !

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“This is deeply, atrociously unjust,” Sirius says as James sits down in front of you, him on the floor and you on the couch. He’s wet and fresh-smelling from the shower. “You never let me do your hair.”

“Because you always act like you’re trying to tear it out as some sort of twisted revenge plot,” says James, passing you a brush and the curl cream you and Sirius had found for him. Normally, you adore this routine, the chance to run your fingers through James’ hair and the way his eyes close blissfully while you do it. You love to pamper him. But tonight you’re not really in the mood. You do it because he expects you to, coating his curls in product with your usual tenderness but wishing you were on the receiving end of it instead. “She’s got the touch of an angel.”

Sirius crosses his arms. He’s leaned against the side of the couch, leering over you like a vulture. Remus is reading in the armchair, and though he’s pretending to ignore all of you, the corner of his mouth tilts up.

“Beauty is pain,” Sirius grouses.

“We should start a hair train,” James decides. “She’ll do mine, you can do hers, Remus will do yours, and I’ll do his.”

Sirius seems to be considering this. You lean down towards James’ ear. “You’re throwing me to the wolves,” you stage-whisper.

“It’s you or me, sweetheart.”

Actually, the idea of Sirius playing with your hair—even at the risk of losing a good amount of it—doesn’t sound so awful.

“I can get in the shower right now,” you offer, only half joking.

Sirius lets a grin slip loose, sitting next to you to plant a smacker on your cheek. “Thank you, darling, but that’s alright. You shouldn’t have to atone for his mistakes.”

You return his smile, doing your best to bury your disappointment.

“I didn’t consent to the hair train either,” Remus says without looking up from his book. “There’s a reason James doesn’t do his own hair.”

“Oi,” James objects. “I’ve got admirers fighting over the opportunity to do my hair, why would I do it myself?”

Remus marks his page, flipping the book closed. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but I’m famished.” James doesn’t miss a beat, latching onto the new topic eagerly. “We could order takeaway?”

“Or just cut out the middleman and go out,” Sirius says. “Unless someone feels like cooking? Which I don’t.”

“We know,” Remus teases. “I don’t either, not tonight.”

“I could if I needed to,” James says, “but I’m alright with whatever gets food in me the fastest.”

They all look to you. “I don’t much feel like cooking,” you add your piece. Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended.

“Alright,” Remus says. “Then let’s not cook tonight. What do you want to do, love? Go out or stay in?”

You comb the brush slowly through James’ hair, twisting to define his curls. “I don’t know,” you say.

Sirius turns to you, frowning. “Come on, baby.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What do you feel like having?”

“I don’t know.” You try not to sigh. “Um, can you pick?”

You don’t look up from the top of James’ head, but you can feel them exchanging looks. They’ve all been a little extra gentle with you lately. They know you’re dealing with a lot. Anytime you try to tally it all up and make sense of it in your head, you start feeling like you could cry. Your exhaustion has sunk so deeply within you that it’s seeped into your bloodstream. You think by now there’s got to be traces of it in the marrow of your bones.

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. “Look at me.”

You do, pausing with the brush held aloft over James’ head. He’s got his eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. It’s not your boyfriends’ faults that you’re feeling overwhelmed; you don’t mean to drag them down with you.

“What for, sweetness?” He sets a hand on your thigh, rings biting into your skin as he gives the flesh a loving squeeze. “Just tell us what you need.”

You try to give him a smile. You really do love him. “I want…I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired. I want to not think for a little while.”

Sirius’ eyebrows come up a bit in the middle, and James turns around from below you.

“Aw, sweetheart.” His tone is as gooey and sweet as raw honey. “Do you just want us to take care of you, angel?” He sets his hands on your knees, pushing himself up to kiss your chin. “You should’ve said something.”

“We can stay in,” Remus suggests whilst James worms his way underneath you, getting you in his lap. “Order takeaway from that Thai place you like.”

“That sounds nice,” you say meekly, face growing warm. James presses rapid-fire kisses to your cheek. One-two-three.

“You wanna have a shower, baby?” Sirius asks you. He looks heart-wrenchingly concerned. It’s not like you to want to give away control like this. “I could do your hair when you get out.”

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “He steals our hair to make tiny dolls of us, I’m sure of it.”

Sirius sends him a withering look. “I’ll be gentle.”

“I’d like that,” you tell Sirius, and he softens.

“Yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face and presses his hand to your cheek. Squishy fond. “Okay, baby, we’ll pamper you to hell and back.”

“I’m going to find the menu for takeaway,” Remus says, prying himself up from his chair.

“James,” Sirius says, not particularly kindly, “you will have to let her go for her to shower.”

“Never. Not on my life. Not at gunpoint.” You shrink as James makes his face at home in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nose nudging at a ticklish spot. “She’s my darling sweetheart angel.”

“She’s our darling sweetheart angel,” Remus corrects him from the kitchen. You think your face could melt titanium.

“James, please,” you complain. “I’m never telling you all anything again.” “Careful.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at you, mock stern. “That sounded dangerously close to a thought, and those won’t be allowed until at least tomorrow morning.”

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bkgml · 1 year

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hiii do u think u could write something where maybe bakugo has been stressed lately. never yells at his so, treats them so good but one night after a stressful day, he’s dreaming and his hands burn up a little while he’s holding their waist, and burns them and he doesn’t wake or anything and they try to hide it from him, he finds out and is like super upset at himself and is distant etc hehe :,-) i rlly like ur writing so i’d be excited if u got to write something like this or anything in general

omg omg this is such a great idea!

youre cooking dinner when you hear the front door swing open.

“hi, honey!” you call to him, ready to switch off the burner so you can give him a welcome home kiss.

in return, all you get is a sigh as he sits on the couch.

“katsuki?” you call as you turn the corner from the kitchen to the living room.

you see him, head in his hands and still in his hero suit.

you walk towards him and thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his head toward your stomach.

normally he’d wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your stomach.

but today, he got news that he was being sent on a mission to canada for three months.

away from you.

away from his home.

away from everyone.

and if accepts it, it’s practically a guaranteed job offer to being the number one hero, his dream. though, it would put a large rift in your relationship as he wouldn’t be able to contact you in any way.

he stands from his spot on the couch.

“uh, i’m gonna shower. need to think for a minute.” he says, giving you a lifeless peck to your temple before he turns to leave.

you’d be upset, but he seems stressed. so instead you decide to throw pyjamas in the dryer for him so they’ll be warm once he’s out and start plating dinner.

you set the table before hearing the water shut off.

“ack!” you yelp, running to grab his pyjamas from the dryer.

“hey katsuki?” you call to him, knocking on the door.

you see his pretty face, ridden with stress as he opens the door.

“hm?” he asks lowly.

despite his worry, you still smile at his tired eyes and soft voice.

before you speak, you press a sweet kiss to his nose and watch his eyes flutter shut at the contact.

“brought you warm jammies.” you whisper, kissing his nose again.

he sighs against you before opening the door wider and bringing you into his arms.

“hi.” you whisper.

“mm.” he grunts, but you know he means ‘thank you, love you’.

you pull away after a minute.

“get dressed, dinners on the table.” you smile.

he nods and you head back into the kitchen.

the two of you eat dinner in silence while he thinks to himself.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask as the two of you wash the dishes.

he sets the final plate into the cupboard and clears his throat.

“just work.” he says.

“hmm. i’m sorry baby boy.” you coo, dragging your nails up his arms.

he groans, leaning back into you.

you hug him from behind, reaching your hand under his shirt and brushing against his abs soothingly.

“you gonna tell me specifically?” you ask softly.

he sighs and straightens up.

“not until i decide what to do.” he replies, turning in your arms.

you smile sadly and take him by the hand into your bedroom.

“sleep on it then?” you ask and he nods.

as the two of you get ready for bed in silence you wonder what has him so stressed out.

if he couldn’t save someone he would be more upset and he would’ve told you.

if there was a deadline coming up for his report of a scene he would’ve worked on it today.

if he was being sent on a mission he would be happy.

unless?

“come to bed.” katsuki’s call for you interrupts your thoughts and you shut the bathroom light off before climbing into bed with him.

you stroke his cheek affectionately.

“you sure i cant help with the decision?” you try one more time.

he grabs your palm off his cheek and presses a kiss to it.

“not this time, sweetness.” he replies.

you sigh but nod nonetheless before turning away from him.

he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

“i love you, katsuki. i know you’ll make a good decision.” you smile, turning your head to him.

he smiles sadly in return and presses a kiss to your lips, the first of the night.

it continues for minutes as he conveys every emotion within him.

his stress.

his love.

his anger.

his sorrow.

and you take it all, drinking it in and calming the storm brewing in his mind.

“i love you more.” he says.

you grin sheepishly and press a final peck to his lips.

“get some rest, kay?” you smile and lay your head on his arm.

“alright.” he says back, arms tightening around you.

as the two of you sleep, your mind is calm, full of white noise of love and laughter. while katsuki’s mind is plagued with darkness, storms returning with fury as he fights to make the right decision.

katsuki’s ferocious dreams bleed into yours as you feel white hot pain on your torso.

you open your already tear filled eyes and see katsuki’s hands burning into your flesh the same way his dreams burned yours.

you swallow a cry, a shout, you wrangle yourself out of his arms and throw yourself onto the other end of the bed.

you see your katsuki, eyes still closed, brain still unconscious, as he burns himself now.

“katsuki! katsuki wake up, baby. you’re burning yourself!” you shriek.

“katsuki!”

his eyes snap open and his quirk deactivates immediately.

“fuck! i’m sorry.” he apologizes for scaring you.

“did you hurt yourself? let me see!” you cry, lifting his shirt seeing the minor burns on his skin.

“shit… i really liked this shirt.” he attempts to joke but you huff and glare at him.

jumping out of bed you grab his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom.

“i need to clean your wounds.” you mumble.

he follows and sees your charred shirt.

“did i hurt you??” he asks, worry laced in his tone.

“i’m fine, you just got my shirt.” you lie, turning on the bathroom light.

the two of you step in the bathroom.

“sit on the edge of the tub. where’s the first aid kit?” you say looking around the room.

he sits silently while keeping his eyes locked on your torso.

you open the cupboard under the sink and find what you’re looking for.

you walk towards katsuki while opening the first aid kit and ruffling through it while mumbling to yourself.

when you’re in arms reach his hands grab the back of your thighs.

your mumbling ceases and the bathroom goes quiet.

setting the first aid kit on the toilet you thread your fingers through his hair similarly to when he first came home tonight.

“did i burn you?” he whispers, restating his question.

“no, katsuki. i told you, it’s just my shirt. let’s get you clean-“ you’re forced to cut yourself off as he lifts your shirt and sees the nauseating burns on your torso.

his breath hitches and you look down to see tears falling from his eyes.

“it’s not your fault.” you rush to tell him.

his eyes look to yours.

those glossy, heart shattering eyes looking to you for guidance, for an answer.

“it’s not your fault.” you repeat.

he looks back at your burns before his eyes return to yours.

“i burned you.” he whispers, voice cracking.

“you were unconscious.” you whisper back, leaning down to press your forehead to his.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.” you repeat as your arms wrap around his head and his face finds the junction between your neck and shoulder.

his sobs begin to fill the bathroom and you hold him and repeat to him.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.”

ten minutes later he’s calm enough.

“you going to tell me what has you this worked up, now?” you ask.

“they want me to go on a no-contact mission for three months. in canada.” he whispers, numb from his crying.

you kiss his dried tears and he allows his eyes to fall shut.

“if it means you get that number one spot like you’ve always dreamed then we can get through it, katsuki.” you say.

“i’m not going.” he replies, snapping out of his numbed stare.

you blink at him.

“what do you mean? this is your dream and i’m going to support you every step of the way.” you smile.

“i’m not going.” he repeats as he grabs your hand and pulls you through the house.

you follow, confused.

“katsuki??”

“i’m taking your ass to the hospital.” he says, tightening his grip on your hand.

“we’re getting these burns treated.” he grabs his keys and opens the front door.

“i’m going to work ten times as hard.” he pulls you out the door and to his car.

“i’m going to be the number one hero.” he opens your car door and helps you sit.

“and i’m going to do it all right here. with you.” he confirms, grinning determinedly at you.

a bright smile takes over your face as you grab his cheeks and kiss him sweetly.

“i love you.” you whisper.

“i love you more and i’m sorry i burned you, baby girl. never again, okay?” he says, pecking your cheeks repeatedly.

you nod in affirmation and he closes your car door.

while he walks to his side, he takes in the fresh air for the first time since he felt the crushing weight of the rift between you and his work life.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

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blue-jisungs · 5 months

Text

wounds

author's note. let’s gaur another zoro piece ☝️

++ i stated it before, i’ll say it again: i never watched the og opla! i think there was a medic? but yns is a medic here so i just hope like,, it makes sense? also if some characters are ooc, i’m sorry!! i’m still slowly learning about them hehe

summary. zoro realised his feelings for you through unfortunate events, whereas you come to a conclusion that his actions speak louder than words

word count. 3k-ish

warnings. oh boy. violence, swearing, blood, a guy throws a weird comment or two at reader, reader gets called bitch :( , m*n, medical stuff but nothing too crazy since i’m not a professional, daggers (stabbing), yn being kinda an idiot for trusting strangers, brief mention of drugs ++ pls lmk if i missed anything 🙏

zoro stole a glance at you, the soft rocking of the ship causing some bottles with strangely-looking fluids to move around your desk. luffy grinned and patted you on your back, causing a small smile to bloom on your lips.

“so, we’re arriving in a moment. let’s get the meds we need and have some free time! How does that sound?” he asked with enthusiasm.

“and i’ll buy some fresh ingredients. i would lose my mind if i had to work with almost-rotten vegetables for even a day longer…” sanji grunted, causing zoro to roll his eyes “is our medic craving something special?”

“hmm, maybe… what about a sweet pudding? i haven’t eaten one in a while” you hummed. luffy’s eyes shone with excitement. sanji winked, drawing a disgusted face from the green-haired man.

“your wish is my command. and you, mosshead, should respect this lady more. she’s really saving our asses” the blond haired man commented.

the truth was, it was mostly sanji or usopp who you were saving. while zoro made it safe and sound out of his fights, so did luffy and nami. usopp, well, he was more on the clumsy side, while sanji occasionally had some wounds when he accidentally cut or burned himself while cooking. after almost losing zoro, the crew knew that a medic would be a useful addition to the crew… and just one day luffy found you on your island, working as a volunteer in a local health care centre. and persuaded you into joining them. (a certain tall, green-haired man also had an influence on your choice).

“we arrived!” usopp suddenly bursted into the room. you grabbed your bag and looked around the room.

“does anyone want to go with me?” you asked.

“to buy meds and smell herbs? i’d rather take a nap” zoro mumbled and lazily left the room, secretly hoping sanji would turn down your offer too.

“i’ll go with sanji! maybe they’ll have some local food to offer…” luffy hummed. you nodded and then all three of you left going merry.

usopp left later, causing nami and zoro to be the only ones left.

as you strolled around the cozy city, you took in the sight of people and the sound of the rustle. living on a ship can get quite lonely sometimes, so you enjoyed the chaos of the town. even though zoro kept you company most of the time. he’d just… come into your room and watch you brew tea for sanji or study your medical books. you both enjoyed such closeness, even if not a word was said. sure, you had conversations too - and you were surprised to realise how funny zoro is. you couldn’t lie, you were aware that you have a crush on him. zoro though, seemed uninterested. like now, just saying that he’ll pass. his answer made you a little disappointed - besides buying new meds, you were hoping for some time alone with zoro.

“well, he’s the one missing out” you mumbled t6o yourself and shook your head as if to get the swordsman off your mind.

suddenly, you smelled a delicious aroma of fresh bread. walking closer to one of the shops, you realised it’s a bakery. maybe you’ll grab a snack and ask if there’s any herbalists around…? sounds like an idea.

when you disappeared inside the local, someone smiled mischievously and backed away to return to his boss.

“... herbs?” the man repeated, thinking out loud. he didn’t look like a regular bakery employee but you ignored that. he was selling delicious chocolate buns! “down the road. there’s a pharmacy but we do have a local herb seller, he wanders in the woods often. after i’m done with my shift, i can lead you to him”

“oh, that would be great! i’ll go to the pharmacy then and be back!” you hummed, smiling. what a nice guy!

you spent way more time in the pharmacy than you intended to: the lady working there was really lovely and professional, the products she was selling were top quality. you chatted about meds and certain ingredients, shared recipes. and when you mentioned that you use some herbs to make teas, she seemed intrigued so you explained to her the purpose.

in the end, you left with two more bags than you planned to. while returning to the bakery, the sun started to set; sky was painted in deep oranges with purple strokes, announcing the farewell of the bright day.

“sorry i was late…” you started and saw the guy get up immediately. he had a slight frown on his face.

“no worries. let’s go” he mumbled and grabbed your wrist, urging you to leave. you stiffened and your jaw clenched but you followed him, too curious about the herbs to let an alarm ring in your head.

“why does he wander in the woods?” you asked quietly, observing how people closed their stalls and shops in hurry before it gets completely dark.

“dunno. he’s just a weirdo. probably there’s a lot of wild plants there” he huffed. nodding to yourself, you gulped. good thing he’s accompanying you, it wouldn’t be too safe to walk around the woods alone, at night.

after what felt like hours, you realised you left the city far behind. the sky was decorated with blinking stars, open navy sky embracing you.

“i… is it far away?” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks. he turned around, the darkness surrounding you didn’t allow to read his facial expression.

“five more minutes, i promise” he said… his voice more calm now.

“o-okay. i need to go soon, so we better be quick” a quiet murmur left your mouth. you started to regret not urging zoro to go with you.

the man was right; you soon enough found yourself in the middle of woods.

“so… um, where’s the guy?” you asked, looking around. your hands started to hurt from the bags you had to carry. besides, there was a rumbling in your stomach.

“he’ll show up in a second, trust me. so, what did you buy in the pharmacy?” he asked.

luffy entered the ship, humming something underneath his breath, with sanji carrying a bag. usopp looked at them curious.

“so, what didya buy?” he asked, almost jumping out of his seat “what are we having for dinner?”

“something fancy, for sure. i still need to think about it. we’re having a pudding for dessert though because y/n wanted it… speaking of which, is she in her room? i forgot to ask if she wanted a vanilla or a chocolate one”

“what?” zoro asked, stopping in his tracks, swords halting mid-air. the guys looked at each other.

“what ‘what?’? we thought she was back already” luffy blinked slowly and noticed nami approach.

“she didn’t, i thought she joined you” usopp stuttered and shifted his gaze to zoro “didn’t you leave at some point too?”

“yeah, to look around? but there was nothing interesting to do so i came back and took a nap…?” he mumbled.

“you did not just let y/n wander around here” nami said, fear in her voice.

“well, apparently, we did” luffy gasped “why?”

“this city is like, known for being totally not-women safe. especially after dark! that’s why i didn’t want to go there, luffy” she hissed “and why i didn’t leave the ship! god! y/n can’t even f–”

“she’ll be okay, she can fight–” usopp started.

“fight” nami finished.

“y/n can’t fight…?” zoro’s heart skipped a beat.

“there’s no time to explain. we should go look for her, idiots!” nami grunted. zoro, full of regret and worry, followed her. he wasn’t sure why he got so scared why nami said that but all he knew for now is that he had to find you.

you didn’t even realise when that happened. a group of muscular and tattooed men appeared from nowhere, not looking like herb enthusiasts at all.

“so this is the pretty lady, huh?” one of them stepped out. he was bald and definitely scary-looking “you have something we want… but before i take it, tell me. is this your first time here?”

you nodded weakly when he approached you.

“and it will be her last!” one of them snickered, drawing laughs from the rest.

“aren’t you a cute little thing, trusting strangers in a city you’ve never been to… ah” he laughed and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes “why did you buy poppy seeds?”

“t-to make medicine…” you stuttered. you noticed the one from bakery standing behind the bald one’s back.

“medicine! ha! you’re pretty funny! you know what we make here out of poppy seeds?” he hummed, leaning in way too close to your liking. you could smell his nasty breath, your hands going limp. you dropped the bags, its content spilling around your legs “drugs”

you gulped and tried to move back but he yanked you by your wrist. this action caused you to bump into his chest.

“so, we’ll take them. and the other goodies you bought, too. and then… we’ll take you!” he laughed.

shaking your head, you pushed him away and tried to run away.

you failed, a sharp yank of your shirt causing you to trip and fall on the ground.

“by take i mean two things” the bald man chuckled and kneeled down, looking for the poppy seeds amongst the scattered products.

you tried to crawl away when he did so, heart thumping against your ribcage. if only you could fight… you wouldn’t be so scared and-

“where do you think are you going?” he growled and pulled you back by your leg. your head hit the ground, a unpleasant tinnitus-alike sound overtaking your ears.

“leave me alone!” you yelled out. the man must have said or do something that caused two other guys to grab your hands and tie them.

“only after i’m done with you!” he grunted and suddenly you felt his weight over you, caging you between the ground. starting to squirm around and kick, you were yelling your throat out; tears starting to spill from your eyes. “shut up, bitch!”

then you felt it. a sudden, stinging pain spreading in the left side of your face.

he just hit you.

the impact was so strong that you immediately felt the blood trickle from your nose.

“i’d hate to kill you because after we’re done, we’d sell you… but if you keep squirming…” he grunted and leaned in. he put a hand on your hair and stroked it gently. he leaned to your ear and licked your earlobe before adding: “then i’ll have to slit your throat”

you hoped that the scream you just left out was hearable from afar.

“get off her right now or its your throat that’s going to be slit first”

you gasped, trying to look for the source of the voice: zoro. zoro is here. or are you dreaming?

“and who the fuck are you?” the bald man said and laughed, his hand landing on your neck “i’ll do whatever i want”

his fingers tightened the grip on your neck. he was either lucky or skilled enough to know which places to squeeze because you felt your flow of oxygen being cut off.

“says who?” zoro huffed and with one swift move yankled the man by his shirt and got him off you. taking a deep breathe in, your vision went blurry - it was either the tears or the result of sitting up too fast.

“you’re a real piece of shit to attack girls, huh” zoro grunted and after effortlessly defeating another one of the bald man’s minions. the swordsman wanted to destroy the others, let them suffer and die in pain. normally, he’d take his time.

but it was about you. which made it even worse – he wanted to kill them slowly, one by one… demolish to the ground because they hurt you. then again, he wanted to make it quick so he can check if you’re alright as fast as possible.

and just when only the boss was left, he heard your scream. one that was full of pure pain.

turning his head back, but not losing focus from the guy, he saw one of them stand above you. he must have slipped away when he was busy with the bald guy but…

then he saw it, shining in the moonlight.

the dagger’s blade shun with silver tints, stuck in your ribcage.

zoro didn’t hold back. it took one swift move to throw one of his swords right between the attacker’s eyes and one precise move to synchronise both of his hands, cutting the bald’s man body in half.

then he ran up to you, grabbing you in his arms gently. your face looked pale, whether it was the moonlight or just the color draining off your face.

“don’t take this out” you grunted, moving your hand to his arm “and… take the meds…”

“fuck the meds, you’re bleeding” for the first time in ages zoro felt helpless. and disappointment in himself. you tried to scoff, the action bringing more pain to your body than you predicted

“don’t… the meds are just as important” your voice went quieter and quieter; zoro noticed that you struggled to keep your eyes open. which was, he assumed, a bad sign.

“don’t pass out on me, okay? keep it together, doctor” the green haired man breathed out and in one swift move he carried you in a bridal style. someone from the crew was supposed to arrive here too, if he passes them by he’ll just say that they need to take the meds.

zoro felt your body going limp in his arms, his heart dropping. running for his (and your) life, careful enough not to hurt you, he felt the strange heavy sensation in his chest.

for the next two days, a sinking feeling of guilt in zoro’s stomach wouldn’t go away. you were unconscious, the atmosphere on the going merry was tense.

“we didn’t know she can’t fight. if we did, we’d obviously accompany her” sanji grunted, hands never stoping mixing whatever he was mixing.

“why y/n never told us?” luffy sighed, voice small. as a captain, he felt disappointed he wasn’t able to protect you. on the other hand, he was glad you’re here now. nami bit her lip and looked at zoro.

“she didn’t want to seem weak” the orange-haired girl explained “i promised her i’ll teach her some basic moves but… we never…”

usopp entered the room, he was just talking to your unconscious state. well, more like to himself but–

“the doctor said she’ll be okay, right?” he asked, sitting next to zoro.

they figured that if you got medication somehow, there must be someone who knows at least has basic medical knowledge. in no time usopp came back with a pharmacist that talked to you – the lady was really saddened by your wounds too.

she scolded them for letting you go on your own (as if zoro haven’t already made a mental promise to himself to never do that again) and then proceeded to take care of you, telling them to change the bandages and apply some meds.

zoro left the dining space and slowly padded to the captain’s room. they figured that i’d only be safer if you stayed in a more stable position (rather than a hammock) for the time being.

entering the room, he stopped in his tracks upon seeing you… sitting at the edge of the mattress, changing your own bandage. sweat was dripping down your forehead, face pale.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked calmly, stepping closer to you. your eyes widened, meeting his.

“hi” you breathed out, shaky fingers halting.

“hi” zoro replied softly and then suddenly placed his hands on your arms, gently pushing you to sit against the wall.

then he grabbed the old bandage and threw it away. he desinfected his hands with a special liquid and grabbed new bandage.

“how long have you been up?” he asked, looking at the wound. it still needed some healing but it wasn’t open and bleeding anymore.

“dunno, moments from usopp’s leave. how… how long i’ve been asleep though?” you asked wearily and pointed at a cream on the nightstand “apply this first, then the bandage”

“two days” zoro replied, grabbing the container with a herbal smell. he was trying to find a good way to word out his worries, but (as usual) they came out harsher than he intended “why didn’t you tell us you can’t fight?”

a heavy sigh left your mouth, which caused a glimpse of pain run through your face.

“i just didn’t want to be a burden” you mumbled. the man noted the slight difference of what you said and what nami said your reasoning was.

zoro’s calloused yet tender fingers applied the cooling substance on your wound. you hissed due to the sting, your hand flying to grab his free one.

“you’re not weak nor a burden” he said, letting you squeeze his hand; he didn’t mind and found it quite… warming “i will teach you”

you smiled. he didn’t offer, he didn’t insist. he stated that.

“thank you. and i’m sorry for scaring you all like that” a whisper left your lips, watching as zoro started to put the bandage now. you leaned a bit closer so he could wrap it around your back, causing your breath to hit his neck. zoro tried to stay focused, the sudden realisation of how close you were making him hyper-aware.

“you scared some of us to death” he answered suddenly “next time just… don’t be such an idiot. if it weren’t for me…”

“humble as always” you snickered and watched him finish bandaging you.

“i…” the green-haired man hesitated. for a moment your eyes met and you saw it in the mirror of his ebony irises: i’m sorry. i was worried. so fucking scared and angry, feeling guilty and terrified. he smiled gently “just don’t do this again, m’kay?”

“i’ll try. and… thank you for saving me” you returned his smile.

you stayed like that for a moment, your hand still on his. too afraid to move, to speak out – yet the silence was speaking volumes.

roronoa zoro cared for you.

he just didn’t know how to say it out loud yet.

but just like wounds, he needed some time. and you were - oh so - willing to give him it.

masterlist <3

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