#Gray's island list

[grayblacklight]

You know, two things always bothered me about the "desert island games" prompt:

1. There are too many stupid Nintendo games, I could never choose!

2. Also you probably wouldn't have more than one console anyways, sooo

I'm going to make lists based on individual consoles! A separate list for Wii games, DS games, switch games - and what better place to start than the NES? Genuinely, I've been looking for one for a while now. Regardless, in no particular order, my five NES games I would be most ok with playing for the rest of my life

1. Starting off with an easy one - this will probably be on most of these lists - everyone's favorite super fighting robot, Mega Man! A series known for it's replayability, it's no wonder that nearly every game in the series is worth considering. Out of the first 6 on NES, the only one I would NOT consider is the first one. 4, 5, or 6 is probably your best bet, and both 2 and 3 are fine enough options. Still, I'm gonna have to go with 4. Why? KALINKA BIAS

2. Mother/ earthbound zero (beginnings? Is that the best Nintendo could come up with? Really?) This is an easy one. Mother is both a charming game and one with plenty of room to experiment and a lot to go back to. There's a lot you can do in any given RPG, but out of all the ones on NES, mother is the one I hold closest to my heart for its characters, story, and humour. Plus, the music slaps.

3. Tetris. I don't really need to explain this one, it's an endlessly replayable puzzle game that I've always loved. NES Tetris in particular is one that I played a ton of in school. There's a little competition from other puzzle games like Dr. Mario, but for me it's a no brainer- probably because my second brain cell needs Tetris to function

4. Super Mario bros. 3, an excellent combination of replay value and just being one of the best games on the NES. Plus it has Luigi. Easy win

5. KIRBY KIRBY KIRBY THATS A NAME TO KNOW- it has to be Kirby's adventure, are you kidding me. Arguably the best NES game ever, incredibly replayable thanks to copy abilities, and it has King Dedede. And at the end of the day, we all need king Dedede in our lives.

[sungbeam]

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧

nonidol!choi san x gn!reader (no prns mentioned)

turns out your upstairs neighbor has a cat who adores climbing through your window — oh, and said neighbor is also fine as hell.

3.7k words, neighbors au (2 lovers), fluff, maybe like two swear words, drinking, lots of mentions of food

a/n: low-key just read this like ur watching the highlight reel of a romcom lol but @jaehunnyy for u 💖 i hope u like it :'))

It all started about seven months ago when a gorgeous Thai cat waltzed into your apartment via the open window. It was a late July afternoon, stiflingly hot and sticky, meaning you had your window opened and the mobile fan set up to blow cool air into the apartment.

You were, for once, not at work. Because the art museum you worked at downtown was currently undergoing reconstruction, you were stuck in your apartment trying (failing) to sell prints off your low-traffic Etsy shop while also trying (failing) to make popsicles.

“Why is this so complicated?” You grumbled aloud as you sat on top of your kitchen counter with your knees pulled beneath your chin. You scrolled down the recipe again on your laptop screen, nose wrinkled at the amount of convoluted steps listed. “Too fancy,” you decided, slamming your laptop lid closed.

Immediately, you hissed, lifting the lid to make sure you hadn't cracked the screen from closing it too hard. Thankfully, there were no cracks visible and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You could not afford a broken—

“Holy shit!” You nearly fell off the back of the island counter at the sight of a light gray cat with black tipped ears, paws, and tail seated on the floor before you.

The cat meowed an innocent greeting.

You pressed your hand to your hammering heart and shifted to get a grip on your position atop the counter. “How—? Where…?” Your eyes drifted to the open window.

Oh. Well, that would explain it.

You glanced back at the cat, who peered up at you once more. “Meow.”

Carefully, you climbed down from the counter as to not scare the creature with any sudden movements. “Hey, baby. Where did you come from, hm?” You cooed, extending your hand out as an offer to be sniffed.

The cat unfurled its tail out from around its body and crept toward your hand. With an experimental sniff, you were deemed safe, and the cat rubbed the side of its face affectionately against the back of your knuckles.

Your chest nearly exploded from the cute interaction. You lowered yourself to your knees, gently taking a peek at the silver charm attached around the collar. There you found the engraving of a star in the metal circle.

“I'm guessing this has something to do with your name?” You hummed, reaching up to scratch the feline behind the ears and head. At least you had an inkling that this little one belonged to someone. You just didn't know how to find out who they were.

“I guess you can hang out with me,” you sighed and stood up with your hands on your hips. You didn't mind the company, after all, and maybe this could be a point of inspiration.

About three hours later, the summer sun still hung relatively high in the sky and you were trying to figure out what to feed the cat when there came a sudden knock at your front door. Really, the “sudden knock” was a series of rushed, panicked DUDUDUDU sounds. You nearly jumped out of your skin for the second time in one afternoon, and even the cat seemed to leap.

Well, the cat only looked mildly annoyed that her nap was interrupted, but she seemed content to give a languid stretch and join you in seeing who was so alarmed at your door.

When you peered out the peephole, your eyes shot open.

There was a pretty man at your door.

You glanced down at the cat who looked back up at you. You mouthed to her, pointing at the door, ‘Do you know this guy?’

As expected, she did not answer. Lovely.

You weren't exactly in appropriate garb to see people. You had thrown on something cool enough to not make you melt like one of the popsicles you weren't able to make earlier, and enough to cover any necessary areas. You were sure your hair looked about as luxurious as a barn, and there wasn't a lick of cosmetics on your face.

It was fine, you told yourself. You probably weren't even going to see this guy ever again.

You opened the door. “Hello? Can I help you?” You asked through the chain linking the door shut.

The man flashed you a flustered, dimpled smile at you. His dark hair was damp, like he just came out of a shower, and he had on a muscle tee that was definitely doing its job, and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hi! So sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you've seen a Thai cat wandering around here about yea high—?”

“Meow.” The cat at your feet shoved her way between the gap you made with the door and out into the hallway.

Your eyes widened another smidge, until the man outside released a gasp of relief and bent down to scoop the feline up into his arms. You unlatched your door and opened it fully now, the man holding the cat to his face as if he was communicating with her telepathically.

“That's the cat, I'm guessing?” You mused.

He tucked her back into his arm and his smile became sheepish. “Yes, I am so sorry about her. I came back home from work and she wasn't in the apartment, but thank you for dealing with her for however long she was here.”

You waved off his concern with your hand, sending him a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it, really. She's adorable. What's her name, by the way?”

“Oh, this is Byeol,” he cooed, lifting Byeol's paw up to wave at you.

Swoon. Your smile widened as you waved back at them both. “Well, it was nice to meet you, both Byeol and…?”

“San,” he answered. God, he was gorgeous. That smile… “And you are?”

“Yn.” You shook each other's hands in the dim hallway light.

“Nice to meet you, too, Yn.” He lit up, pointing up to the ceiling. “Hey, I'm pretty sure I'm your upstairs neighbor!”

You opened the door to your apartment wider so you could show him your open window. “Well, that would definitely explain how she got down onto my fire escape,” you chuckled.

He whistled lowly. “Man, cats are scary sometimes. I'll definitely try to keep an eye on whenever she's near my window now.” He ran the back of his knuckles down Byeol's spine. “I don't wanna take up any more of your time, but thanks again.”

“No worries! Have a nice night.”

“You too!”

San began walking back toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, and you were about to close the door when you thought you heard him chastising his cat in hushed tones. You laughed to yourself as you locked up your front door. You wouldn't mind if Byeol came traipsing down your fire escape again.

And she would. About three times a week when San had a later shift at the boxing gym he worked at (yes, a boxing gym… good lord). Byeol oftentimes expected you to have your window open, and if you didn't already have it open, she would sit out on the fire escape until you did.

Two months into the fire escape escapades, you gave up and left the window open just enough for her to squeeze through while you returned to work.

San would always come down to your apartment to retrieve her, and at some point, decided to swing by your apartment on his way up instead just to make sure she wasn't already here.

By month four when the days were shorter and the nights dragged longer and colder, you couldn't exactly keep the window open, lest you wanted to freeze your ass off in the safety of your apartment. Byeol would hop down the fire escape in the evenings when you were back so you could let her in, only for her owner to come barreling down the stairs, dimpled cheeks flushed and exasperated.

“I swear she likes you more than me,” he guffawed from where he stood out in the hallway as he always did. He shook his head as he watched the Thai feline waltz around his legs once, then circle back into your apartment. He arched a brow at her. “Look at her strutting. She knows exactly what she's doing.”

You swore there was a dash of red gracing his cheekbones now.

You bit your lip through a smile. “Well, you're welcome to come in. I was just about to eat dinner and I don't really think I can finish this roast chicken alone.”

“Ah, I don't really wanna impose,” he drawled, scratching the back of his neck and peering at you from beneath those lengthy lashes of his. He knew what he was doing—he had to know what he was doing. If Byeol could strut, then so could Choi San.

He promised to take you up on your offer as long as you let him run upstairs to grab a bottle of wine to contribute.

The last thing you expected to happen was to hear a knock on your window less than ten minutes later. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, folding over in laughter when you saw him waving to you on the other side with cold-bitten cheeks and a red-tipped nose. He clutched a bottle of red in one hand and gestured furiously to the window latch. “It's fucking freezing!”

“Okay, okay,” you grinned, walking over to let him inside. “Just so you know,” you said as Byeol welcomed her owner into your apartment, “usually it's just cats who come in this way.”

“Well, you might have to get used to a cat and a human coming in now,” he teased. San presented you the wine bottle with a flourish. “Milady, your beverage.”

“Why, thank you, good sir,” you jested and accepted the offering. “Make yourself at home!”

What you didn't expect was for such a statement to be taken so literally, and yet, you had no complaints.

Three months further along—making it seven in total since that first hot July day Byeol came in through the open window—you and San (and Byeol) were cooped up in your apartment as usual. It was a Friday night with dinner on the table, a TV show playing in the background, and a pair of wine glasses for the pair of you. Over the past few months, sharing a dinner together had become a weekly event wherein San would come in via window, and the two of you would have the evening together.

Sometimes it was just dinner, sometimes it was dinner and a movie, and sometimes it was even dinner, a movie, and drunk Pictionary. But every Friday night was yours and San's night.

Plus, he turned out to be a much better cook, so you definitely couldn't argue when he somehow wrestled his entire Le Creuset pot down the fire escape to feed you the most divine lobster mac 'n’ cheese you had ever tasted. (As if you'd ever had lobster mac 'n’ cheese before…)

“I feel like it would just be more convenient if I came up to your apartment instead,” you said with enthusiasm, your free arm flailing around as you melted dark chocolate on a double boiler upon the stove top. While San had the right side of the stove for his chicken and gnocchi soup, you had the left to prepare tonight's mousse for dessert. If San made dinner, you figured you could at least learn a thing or two about a dessert course.

He chuckled, “I mean, I'm not opposed if you ever get tired of hosting. I'm kind of a creature of habit though, which is why I don't mind coming down every week, but it's up to you, sweets.”

Oh, right. And the nickname. You couldn't even pinpoint when that started, but again, you weren't complaining.

“I don't mind hosting either,” you told him, “it's just that it's either you leave your super expensive cookware here or I go upstairs. I don't think Le Creuset has fire escape insurance.”

“You're not wrong about that.” You felt his hand gently brush against your waist as he slipped past you to get to the spice cabinet on your left. “Behind you,” he murmured by your ear before grabbing the jar of Himalayan salt (also his) and returning to his station behind his pot.

You couldn't deny the pitter-patter of your heart around him either. Things were coming to a point that you didn't know how to label. But perhaps that was the beauty of everything slipping into place. You carried on, “I think I've seen your apartment once, and that was when Byeol wouldn't stop meowing until I followed you guys.” You laughed to yourself at the memory. That had been an interesting night.

“If it's any consolation, your apartment has much more life in it than mine.”

“That's a lie,” you said pointedly. “Yours is just more meticulous.”

He snorted. “Meticulous. Might as well be as barren as a clinic.”

You passed him a glance. “I offered to paint your walls…”

San beamed back at you, dimples creating divots in the apples of his cheeks. “And I never said no! But—I do think that it should be something the both of us do together.”

Your brows creased as you took the chocolate off the stove to fold into the other mixture you'd set aside. “You wanna paint with me?”

“Yeah,” he said, almost bashfully. “I think it'd be a fun bonding and learning experience. And it would be cool to see you in your element, besides when you're drunk.”

The latter comment had you turning away to laugh. “Fair enough.”

When dinner was ready to be dined, and the mousse was freezing in the fridge, you and San sat at the kitchen island with your matching bowls of hot soup and glasses of lemon water for the night. Neither of you had remembered to buy wine for the week (surprisingly), but one week without alcohol wouldn't hurt.

The two of you clinked your glasses together, toasting to another week survived.

You took a sip, then spooned the soup into your mouth, wiggling around on your stool in a little happy dance as the flavors did their own dance on your tongue.

San smiled around his own bite. He swallowed, then said, “You know, I always know I did well when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That cute little dance,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it tastes good, is what I'm saying, sweets.”

Your skin warmed, and you managed to convince yourself it was the soup or the heater or something and not the beautiful man beside you. “Then get used to the happy jig, because everything you cook tastes divine. You should be a chef, San.”

“I could've,” he shrugged, “but I kind of like this little life.” He gestured to you with his spoon, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don't you?”

For a moment, you let the smile slowly unfurl onto your lips. You lifted your own spoon in agreement. “You're right. It's a lovely, little life.”

Now that you were in agreement, you fell into a comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your dinner in one another's presence. Byeol was hunched over her own bowl of food just by the foot of your stool, against the adjacent side of the island. You'd gone out and bought her a pair of food and water bowls, as well as her preferred food. San had been touched by the gesture, and Byeol most definitely appreciated it.

San wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, by the way, next week.”

You hummed. “What about it?”

“Are you doing anything?”

You perked up, eyebrows lifting to your hairline. “Why do you ask?” It was usually unsaid by now that Friday nights were set aside for the two of you to share an evening, which was why you were confused by his question.

And then he explained, “It's Valentine's Day, so I just wanted to make sure I didn't interrupt or assume anything.” He'd said it so casually and easily that you nearly missed the slight nervousness in his voice, or the minor intonation of hope. “I mean,” he fumbled, “if you do have something planned, then it's no worries, really. There are plenty of other weeks—”

You shook your head, finishing off your water after having scraped your bowl clean. “I'm not doing anything,” you said. “Well, besides what we usually do.” You chuckled to yourself, “To be honest, Valentine's Day completely slipped my mind this year.”

And if you were truly being honest with yourself, every Friday felt like Valent—no. You shouldn't think like that. It would only make things worse about how you felt for him now. Plus, these past few months with San felt far too casual, too domestic, to be like Valentine's Day. Was Valentine's Day not for grand gestures and romance? This wasn't grand… though, you could probably argue about the romantic part…

“No, I feel the same way,” he nodded. “My friend Wooyoung just asked today if I was up to go to a single's party, which was why I suddenly remembered.”

Ah. “Oh, are you planning on going?” Wine sounded pretty good right about now.

He grimaced. “Probably not. I—I was kind of hoping you wanted to still do dinner next week—but, like, it doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. If that's what you're comfortable with.”

It doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. What if you wanted it to mean more than how it usually was? There was nothing inherently wrong with how it usually was, but you couldn't deny that a part of you yearned for more. That part of you imagined what it was like if San didn't have to come see you via fire escape, and he was always in the same space as you.

There was a pause as you wrestled with your own conscience about how or if you were going to admit it to him.

He pressed his lips together. “I've made you uncomfortable.”

“No, you haven't made me uncomfortable,” you assured him swiftly. “I just…” You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead then returning it to your lap. “Of course, I would love to have dinner with you next week, but I’d like it to mean something else—if you are comfortable with that.”

You watched as that beautiful smile you'd come to grow more fond of blossom onto his face. “I'd be more than comfortable with that—I’d be really happy with that, actually.”

“Good,” you said softly, unable to bite your own smile away. “Then dinner next week, it is.”

There was something fundamentally different about this next Friday night compared to the others. Specifically, the context by which you and San went into the Friday evening of Valentine's Day was completely different. The apartment was aglow with the same warmth as it usually boasted, but there was a bouquet of blood red roses in a glass vase on the kitchen counter beside a bottle of red wine.

San was at the stove, finishing off the last bit for dinner before it needed to simmer for a good thirty minutes. You were in the living room portion of your apartment, flipping through the vinyl records to play before you pulled one out and set it up. As you moved the needle onto the record, you placed the empty cover back into its slot and turned toward the kitchen.

You froze in your spot, skin warming at the sight of San leaning over the island counter with an adoring look in his eyes as he watched you. “What?” You laughed, subconsciously adjusting the sleeve of your blouse.

“Nothing,” he smiled. “You're just—you’re gorgeous.”

You were sure if your face didn't give it away, there must have at least been hearts floating around your head. “You cannot just say that,” you chided weakly as you walked over to where he was, your expression growing shy.

His smile widened and he rounded the counter to stand in front of you, your back pressed against the edge of the counter. “I can, too,” he teased. He stepped back once and held his arms out, fingers flicking toward him to beckon you forward. “C'mere. Can you dance?”

“Some.” Your eyebrows arched upward as you stepped forward and took his hands in yours. “Dancing and romancing, Choi San? What magic do you hope to enchant me with tonight?” You joked, moving your left hand to his shoulder.

“Perhaps magic that will leave your window open for me on nights other than Fridays,” he said sheepishly as the two of you began to sway to the music waltzing out from the record player. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your fire escape—”

You let out a laugh, ducking your head toward your chests. He did the same, an embarrassed grin coming onto his face as his nose nudged against yours.

“That was god awful,” he winced in apology.

“It was,” you agreed teasingly, “but I'll let it slide because you're cute.”

He shot you a bright smile. “Oh? So I'm cute? I guess that makes two of us.”

You weren't really sure at what point you realized you had fallen for this man. It was sometime between the Himalayan salt lectures and the dancing like an old married couple in your kitchen, maybe. You thought about the day he showed up at your door panicking about a missing cat, and to a future where you might have found yourself in his living room painting murals on his walls. Or perhaps… not his living room, but both of yours.

As you danced with your chests pressed together, hearts beating rapidly in sync, you gazed into those beautiful, dark brown irises of his and sank further and further into those feelings. They were gradually making themselves a home in your chest.

“What're you thinking about, sweets?” He murmured as you tucked your head against his shoulder and the arm he had around your waist rubbed the small of your back.

The smell of his cologne made you inhale deeply. You could get used to this—his smell, the feel of his body under your fingertips, his presence intertwined with yours taking up space in the best possible way. “I'm thinking that Byeol is a good matchmaker.”

His chuckle rumbled through him and softly into your ear. “You're definitely right about that.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog and comment if u enjoyed!

atz m.list

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[salemontrial]

A list of things (in no order) they BETTER include in the movie

- Rule #1: Don't Get Caught

- "And they are not khakis they're chinos. Khakis are for white people."

- The magazine page

- Zahra stealing Alex's phone and shoving it in her bra after the emails get leaked

- "Numbers on me being into dudes?"

- Get Low at the new years gala (bonus points for "Fuck it up, vato!")

- Alex blowing a beer bottle

- If I don't hear Bea's emotional depth pie speech I'll riot

- "America: He is my choice."

- "Now, I'm standing here, and I'm thinking about it... A reliable, hardworking, honest, Southern Democrat versus corruption, and maliciousness, and hate. And one big state full of honest people, sick as hell of beinf lied to."

- "Say good morning to your strumpet, Henry" "Good morning strumpet"

- Honestly the entire facetime with Pez while him and Henry are in Wales--

- Idk man i wanna see dc dykes on bikes chase westboro baptish church goers down the street

- "I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. History will remember us."

- "I've seen Jurassic Park. Did you know birds are directly descended from raptors? That's a scientific fact. Raptors in my bedroom, Henry. And you want me to go to sleep like they're not gonna bust out of their enclosures and take over the island the minute I close my eyes? Okay. Maybe your white ass."

- "i want to see a cage match between your grandmother and this fucking ghoul running against my mom"

- The "Sexual Experimentation With Foreign Monarchs: A Gray Area" powerpoint

- "Sería una mentira, porque no sería èl."

- "Dear Thisbe, I wish there weren't a wall. Love, Pyramus"

- "Oh I'm terribly sorry Pip! So awfully clumsy, I think all that cocaine I did must have done a number on my reflexes!"

- Them dancing to Your Song in the A&V

- Alex NEEDS to fall into that rosebush

- "Hey. We won." "Yeah. We won."

- "But that would be-" "Yes Alex, the day we met, nothing gets past you does it? 'What about you' he asks, as if he doesn't know-"

[viking-raider]

Moon Crazed *Mature*

Summary: Henry seems especially crazed on his birthday, and you don't understand why, until you check the calendar again.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: M - Fluff, Angst, Banter, Pet Names, Language, Gray Hair Appreciation, Cuddles, Supportive Spouse SMUT - Birthday Sex, Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Wrap it!), Possible Voyeurism, Sneak Attacks, Doggy Style, Hickeys, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Super light Anal, Rutting, Hinted Breeding Kink, Light Spanking, Body Fluids, Biting

Inspiration: Henry's 40th Birthday being on a literal Full Moon!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You hummed softly, standing at the refrigerator as you filled your water bottle with ice from the dispenser. Unaware of the predator stalking up behind you. Until strong hands grabbed a hold of your hips, causing you to let out a startled scream and drop your bottle, the ice chips rattling in the black plastic as it struck the hardwood floor.

“Henry!” You yelped as he spun you around to face him, but smiled, nonetheless. “What are-” You started, but he captured your lips in a hungry, heated kiss, that had you breathless before you could finish your question.

There were black spots in your eyes, when the kiss finally broke and you were dizzy, only vaguely aware of a coolness from your waist down, then Henry's hands were back on your hips and he was lifting you onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. You hissed, feeling the cold butcher block on your bare skin, Henry having stripped you of your pants and underwear.

“Whoa, Cavill!” You huffed, pressing your knees together and planting your palms to his collarbone. “The fuck has you so crazed?” You asked, seeing how bright, clear and wild his blue eyes were, his pupils blown out from his mounting arousal.

“This.” He purred, his voice rumbling, as his fingers swiped at your exposed folds.

“Oh, holy Jesus!” You gasped, off guard, wiggling on the counter. “Right, Okay.” You panted, softly. “Birthday boy is in a mood.”

“Birthday boy is hungry.” He growled, dropping to his knees and yanking you to the edge of the island, your legs draped over his broad shoulders, while his mouth showed no mercy at attacking your womanhood.

Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his curls. “What is it? A full moon!” You cried out, eyes crossing and rolling back, feeling Henry's tongue swirl against your swelling clit. “Hen-Ry.” You moaned, hands slipping from his hair as you fell back across the counter, the muscles of your thighs twitching under his onslaught.

“Such nice red velvet.” He cooed, his breath hot against your wet folds, as he licked your icing off his lips.

“You're crazy.” You wheezed back, your head lulling side to side, while you gazed up at the vaulted ceiling.

Smirking, Henry pressed his lips to your humming pearl, drawing a breathy moan from deep in your throat, with the gentle suckles that only grew with intensity. His tongue flicking out to tease, torture and collect your sweet nectar, but never yet permitting the mounting rapture that balanced on a knife's edge. You tried rolling your hips against his mouth, antsy to feel that sweet relief at the mercy of his skilled mouth. But Henry's hands gripped them, pinning you to the counter with a near bruising strength.

“It's my birthday.” Henry huffed between your thighs, glaring up the length of your heaving body, feeling the throb of his clothed girth at the sight of the mounds of your breasts, nipples hard through the fabric of your shirt. “Behave.” He growled, slipping a hand into your shirt to pinch and tease one of your peaks, while his mouth left a dark purple mark on the inside of your trembling thigh.

You shivered at the contact, whimpering, but laid as still as you could. Henry chuckled, loving the madness he was driving you into. He laid an open mouth kiss to your pearl and took a deep breath, filling his senses with your heady scent, that only seemed to drag him deeper into his own psychosis. You hiccuped at the feel of his teeth nipping at your dripping petals, lifting your head and letting out a shocked huff at Henry, whose eyes only regarded you mischievously, not willing to stop and lift his head.

His tongue finally split you open, licking and snaking down your tunnel, chuckling at the hums and pants you were making at the attention. He removed his hand from your hip, his thumb easily finding your clit and applied just the right amount of pressure as his tongue found your spot.

Starting to hiccup, with surprise at the rushing of the orgasm that hit you, your back curving off the counter, before it caught in your throat, face twisting in ecstasy. “Henry!” You cried out, breaking through the surprise, “Oh god, Hen!” You mewled, falling limp as it wore off.

Henry stood up, a heavenly and satisfied look on his face. “Mmm.” He moaned, smirking at you. “You taste so damn good, baby girl.” He chuckled, wiping at the droplets on his lips and chin, before tugging down his sweatpants.

“Shit!” You cried out, nails clawing at the butcher block underneath you as Henry eased his weeping cock into you. “Warn a girl!” You barked, hooking your shaking legs around his thighs.

“That was your warning, babe.” Henry laughed, gripping one of your hips and planting his other hand on the counter, as leverage.

You looked up at Henry and saw a familiar glint in his blue eyes, but it seemed a bit more than usual. “Christ alive.” You sighed, gripping the wrist he had at your hip.

“You're all strapped in, honey?” He chuckled, rubbing your hip with his thumb.

“I know you, Cavill!” You answered, clenching around him.

Moaning, Henry bit his bottom lip and pushed his hips forward into you with as much strength as he could, rocking you further up the counter. With his pace set, Henry didn't relent, not even when your nails broke the skin of his wrist.

“Filling you up never gets old, babe.” Henry panted, recovering from his climax. “Unlike somethings.”

“The hell does that mean?” You wheezed, gulping thickly.

“Nothing.” He sighed, pulling you up and kissing you sweetly on the lips. “Just rambling. Come take a shower with me?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Of course.” You nodded, sliding off the island and following upstairs to the master bathroom.

Later that afternoon, you stood in the laundry room tossing things from a hamper into the washing machine, when you looked up and saw Henry's reflection in the window that was behind the machine.

“Hey there, handsome.” You cooed at him, leaning into the hamper to grab the last handful of dirty clothes. “Did you have a good workout?” You asked, tossing them in and closing the lid.

“Mmhm.” He replied, resting his shoulder against the door frame to watch you.

“Good.” You smiled, pushing up on your toes to reach the controls and started the machine, just as Henry pushed off the door towards you, trapping you against the vibrating appliance. “What—Oh, this again?” You purred, feeling his hand slip around you and into the band of your leggings and panties. “You are in a randy mood today, Puppy.” You said, in a sultry voice.

“Just today?” He husked back, gently rubbing your still, slightly, sore delicates.

You chuckled softly, unsure how to answer that or if it was rhetorical. “You always make me feel good, Henry.” You moaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “Above other things.” You smirked, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“Mmm.” Henry moaned back at you, working his fingers a little more vigorously against your privates. “What other things?” He asked, pushing your shirt up and cupping one of your breasts in his paw.

“I think you're currently do-doing a goo-good job.” You gulped, pressing your back harder against his chiseled chest.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, pressing his lips to the top of your head, as a finger crooked into your entrance, teasing. “You like when I finger you?”

“Like is an inadequate word.” You whimpered, toes curling against the tiles of the laundry room floor. “Love it. Get off on the mere thought of. Have a yearning for most hours of the day.” You confessed, bracing a hand on the edge of the washer to help keep yourself up.

Henry smiled into your hair and allowed you to give in, feeling your wet warmth wash over his hand. “I love pleasuring you, more than almost everything else.” He cooed, turning you around to cup your face in his sticky hand, kissing you deeply.

“More laundry.” You giggled, after breaking the kiss, taking off your leggings and soiled panties, opening the washer machine to toss them in, yelping as Henry's hand connected to your bum.

“If I had it my way, you'd only be naked at home.” He grinned, biting the corner of his lip at the mere thought of getting to see your naked body at all hours in the privacy of your home.

“Oh, of that I am sure, my love.” You snorted, nodding your head. “And the feeling is mutual.” You added, tugging on the front of his shirt.

“I can fix that.” Henry laughed, blue eyes glittering.

Laying on your bed, arms folded beneath you, exhausted from the events of the day, you were again unaware of Henry coming for you, until you heard the floor creak.

“Christ alive!” You spooked, looking at him, before busting out into a smile, finding he was stark naked. “What has gotten into you, Henry?” You asked, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Twice already today we've had shenanigans throughout the house.” You said, running your eyes along his godly body. “Not counting our regular morning meeting.”

“Is it so hard to believe I can't get enough of you.” Henry asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“No, not in the slightest, husband.” You purred at him, feeling his waves of need coming off of him, even from the gap between you. “It's just strange. You haven't been this needy in quite a while.”

“I've been on a mission to correct that.” He confessed, closing that gap. “Get undressed.” He ordered you, standing at the edge of the bed.

Smirking at him, you pulled your shirt off over your head, breasts bouncing as you did, much to Henry's delight and increased arousal. But when it came to your shorts, thumbs hooking in the waistband of them and your panties, you pushed them down painfully slow, your eyes dead on Henry's. You watched his throat bob and his fingers flex, as he pulled out every ounce of willpower not to launch forwards and rip the article of clothing off of you, himself.

His willpower finally broke and he snatched your pants off the rest of the way, tossing them carelessly aside, then climbing into bed with you, rolling you back onto your belly.

“Oh, we're just being a ball of fun today!” You giggled, as he used his knees to push your legs apart, one thick arm wrapping around your waist and hoisted your hips and bum up, while rutting his hard cock against the valley of your cheeks, grunting in your ear.

“I'll show you fun.” He growled, biting the side of your neck, while grasping himself at the base.

You let out a breath, feeling his tip run down between your cheeks, making the space slick with glossy droplets. He paused to tease your special hole, causing you to gasp and clench in surprise, a rumble of a chuckle bubbling out of Henry as he carried on, rubbing your pleasantly weeping entrance.

“Do you like it when I play with you?” He rasped, pressing his forehead against your temple, his eyes dark, like a storm over an ocean. “When I fill you up.”

“Hm.” You hummed, pushing back against him, eager and impatient to feel him fill you again. “I love it.” You whispered, breathily. “It makes me feel good, Henry.”

Smirking, Henry slowly eased himself inside of you, wanting to feel every little bit as he did. A shiver ran down both your backs as the last inch of his manhood came to rest in your sensitive canal, flexing and molding around him. With quick snaps of his hips, Henry drove himself into you without giving away any ground.

You moaned, hands twisting up in the duvet beneath you as Henry rocked harder into you. Arching your back more, adjusting him and causing you to let out a sweet, almost deafening, cry. Henry grasped the underside of your jaw, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder and closing his mouth against your throat, timing his sucks and bites with his thrusts.

Leaving behind yet another mark of his passion for you.

“Henry, please.” You moaned, brows creasing. “Touch me.” You gulped, licking your lips.

He moaned against your neck, removing his hand from your face to slip it beneath you, finding your swollen bud, drenched in your combined fluids. Henry was torturous at rubbing clit, but did nothing to rush the pace of his hips. You whined, kicking your feet a little bit and shifting your knees to try and get more leverage, but Henry used his own body to keep you in place.

“You devil.” You sighed at him, yanking your neck away from his mouth.

“Mmhm.” Henry hummed back, not missing a beat, but smirked at you devilishly, before pulling away from you, standing up on his knees to watch himself slide in and out of you. “What a beautiful sight this is.” He purred, rubbing his palm up and down your glistening back, squeezing your neck for a moment.

“Pity you can't see it yourself.”

“Feels amazing as is, big boy.” You answered, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Henry popped you on the ass, applying more pressure to your clit and increased his thrusts, rocking the headboard against the wall. You gripped the duvet for leverage and rocked in tune with him, feeling the hot build of your climax, soft whimpers leaving your parted lips and tears blurring your vision as it finally boiled over, surging around Henry's shaft, the hot pulse intensifying as his own orgasm mounted.

“Henry!” You cried, the sensation of him pumping searing ribbons of his seed into you just as maddening compared to your own.

Pulling out of you, Henry dropped to his side beside you, flushed, sweaty and panting. You rolled onto your side, unfazed by the massive wet spot on the blanket the two of you made, and looked at your husband, smirking. Reaching out for him and gently brushing the damp curls off his forehead, your eyes softening at the sight of the grays you saw in them. Especially at his temple. They drew a smile across your lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Henry asked lazily, cracking an eye at you.

You giggled at him, wiggling in closer. “Just noticing all the new grays you have.” You cooed, resting your head on his bicep and twisting the graying curl around the tip of your index finger, fondly, only to have Henry turn his head out of your grasp.

“Old man.” He huffed, a frustrated crease between his brows.

“Hardly!” You laughed, amused, pressing a kiss on his sternum. “Just because you turned forty today, doesn't make you an old man, Cavill.”

“I damn well feel like one.” Henry growled, fixing his blue eyes on you. “Never this winded after making love to you.”

You sucked your bottom lip in, biting down on it, as you regarded him with understanding and loving eyes. “Is this what everything's been about today?” You finally asked, cupping his bearded cheek. “You sneak attacking me everywhere in the house.” You smirked, your body tingling at just recalling them, but your smile faded seeing the look in his eyes and face.

“Do you think you can't--” You struggled for a moment, a lump in your throat.

“Satisfy you.” He finished for you. “Yes. I've been worried that hitting forty meant that I would lose the ability to keep satisfying you. Seeing the gray hairs in the morning, when I get up to shower, has only increased that anxiety.” He confessed, looking away from you.

“Henry.” You mewled, heartbroken at your husband's words. “You have never lacked there, or anywhere. Today is a fine example of that.” You tried to get him to understand. “We were intimate four times throughout the day, on top of the festivities for your birthday. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

Henry looked back up at you, a look of relief in his cerulean orbs. “You don't think I look silly with them?”

You huffed and clicked your tongue at him, rolling your eyes. “Henry Cavill, I've known and seen you with a great many looks over the last eight years, because of your occupation, and I've never known you to look silly.” You told him, honestly. “Even when you thought you would with the Kingstache.” You giggled, grinning at that memory.

“Lord, that was an identity crisis.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“But,” You looked him squarely in the eyes. “You with gray hair is rather dashing, in my opinion, and I can't wait to see a few more.”

“Oh, that's how it is!” He said, wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, so you straddled his waist. “You like being married to this gray fox!” He laughed, pawing at your butt.

“What is this! A full moon!” You whooped, wiggling out of his grasp to grab your phone and pulled up what phase it was. “Sure as hell!” You laughed, looking over at him. “Your birthday is a full moon!” You smirked, setting your phone back on the nightstand and crawled back into bed with him.

“So, my gray fox is Moon Crazed!”

“Crazed by something.” Henry purred, pulling you in for a kiss.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Interesting 1865 townhouse in Hudson, NY. It has 3bds, 3ba, and is priced at $1.325M.

As soon as you walk thru the door, you see this amazing, unusual, rams head finial on the newel post, and a gorgeous patterned runner on the stairs.

Because it shares a wall with another townhouse, all the rooms are on the left side. The original fireplace in the sitting room has a dramatic mirror that tips the ceiling.

It looks like the owner has basically moved out.

This must be the dining room. Beautiful architectural features and a built-in cabinet.

Whoever took the photos didn't take full rooms, but focused on parts of rooms, so we can't see the entire kitchen. I can say that I like the floor.

Remodeled bath. I like the floor, tile and blue sink cabinet.

Original staff stairs.

I'm confused. The listing says single family home, so I thought that was a nice big bedroom that wasn't being used.

Lovely exposed brick wall and original stairs.

But, there's another full kitchen up here, complete with a wine rack in the island. I also like the gray cabinetry.

It's a large kitchen and they show more of it than the one downstairs. A chandelier on the 2nd fl. doesn't convey. It must be this one.

There's a nice new & vintage combo bath.

Large primary bedroom with a beautiful carved fireplace.

This bath feels so cozy. There's still an old fireplace in here that isn't functional.

Bright guest room with original floor.

Very nice rooftop deck.

Lit up at night.

The deck from the outside. There's no garage or driveway on the property, so parking would be on the street and I don't see any on this side street. For $1.325M, that might be a hard sell. I'm not a fan of doors on the sidewalk, either.

I like the wrought iron fence & gates around the yard. The house is on a corner lot, right on the sidewalk and measures 2,178 sq ft.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/48-N-6th-St-Hudson-NY-12534/2101203887_zpid/

[yanderecrazysie]

Galeophobia (Kirishima)

Please don’t request any phobias. I just felt like making this for fun.

Be kind to me, I'm still not good at writing NSFW

Title: Galeophobia

Pairings: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, mershark Kirishima, pirate reader, marking, NSFW, NON-CON, belly bulge, excessive cum

Phobia: The fear of sharks

Normally, the setting sun is something that makes you smile, its beautiful pink-and-orange hues are a feast for the eyes. Here and now? It feels as though it is taunting you as your water sloshes over the deck of your sinking ship.

How can nature be so beautiful, yet so cruel?

The storm is completely gone- there’s no sign that it ever happened. No sign, save for one wooden ship taking on water. The jolly rogers above you wave feebly in the light wind before crumbling in on themselves as even the air falls silent. You sigh wearily.

After all the danger you’d put yourself in to get rich, sinking serenely in the middle of calm waters, all of your comrades having fled on lifeboats. Leaving the captain to go down with the ship.

It’s a dumb tradition that the pirates of your country take part in, you thought dully, so why did I bother following it? You wished you weren’t quite so honorable. 

The water ripples below your lazy perch on the ship’s front railings, now reaching past the deck and slowly inching towards you. Somewhere off in the distance, you see something shimmer in the sunset’s pink-tinged water.

You squint, confused, as something bright red begins rising in the clear water right below you, on the end of your ship and the open ocean. Water breaks at the surface as the crimson object reveals itself to be spiky hair on the head of a handsome tan-skinned man with equally-red, intense eyes.

At first, you think he must be dead. After all, how else could there be someone out here in the middle of the ocean, unless they were from a ship already sunken below? But no, the man gazes at you with a lively expression, smiling brightly at you as though he’s never been so happy to see someone else. 

The next conclusion fills you with hope: there must be land nearby! Surely he had swum from an island to your ship. But how far away was it? You look in every direction and see nothing but water.

“Where do you come from?” You ask urgently, “It’s not too far is it? I’m not a strong swimmer.”

The man laughs loudly, “Don’t worry, I got you, babe.”

You wrinkle your nose at the pet name but hold your tongue. After all, this redhead was the only thing between you and the bottom of the ocean.

He holds out his arms as though he’s ready to catch you, “Come on down, babe. I don’t bite. Much.”

He flashes you a smile and you gasp. His teeth are unnaturally sharp and triangular, nothing like a human’s. For the first time, you feel a sense of foreboding and your heart pounds in your chest. 

Your gaze falls below his bare abs under the water and you’re shocked to see that instead of bare legs, there’s gray and white smooth skin that ends in a sharp fish tail. From the shape and the earlier glance at his teeth, you surmise he’s some sort of shark merman. Not human, in any case.

“What are you?” You shriek, wrapping your arms around your legs protectively, all too aware of how close the water was to you now.

The shark-man grins, flashing those sharp teeth at you once more, “My name’s Kirishima. What’s yours, babe?”

“Stay away from me, you fish freak!” You seethe, pulling your compass from your pocket and heaving it at him as hard as you can. It bounces off his chest with a thunk but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “Wait until after I’ve drowned to eat me!”

Kirishima sighs, a soft pout to his features as he tells you, “List babe: you’re either coming down on your own or you’re going to sink.”

The reality of the situation dawns on you just as you feel water licking at your toes. You were going to be eaten by this half-shark, half-man creature. All that would be left of you would be your bones on the bottom of the ocean, alongside your trusty ship. 

Hot tears prick your eyes as you let yourself slide off the railing into the water. If my death is coming, then let it be quick, you thought sadly.

Kirishima blinks in surprise before a smile spreads across his face. This time, his lips are pulled over those vicious teeth, and you can’t help but think it’s a little cute. He reaches his hand out to brush away a few stray tears, but that just causes more to spill.

Strong arms wrap around you and you close your eyes, ready for death. It doesn’t come. Instead, Kirishima nuzzles into your neck, cooing softly into your ear as he holds you close.

He pulls you away from the sinking ship, most of which is already underwater. Your first and only ship- you feel more tears slip down your cheeks. It’s gone now, there’s no getting it back.

“Shh, it’s alright, babe.” Kirishima shushes you softly as he swims farther away, tugging you along through the water. You shiver in his grasp and he takes notice, stopping immediately to run his hands over your body, “Oh man, you’re cold all over.”

The grin that cracks across his face is mischievous and predatory at the same time, “I know how to fix that.”

Something cold and hard brushes against your butt and your heart stops all together before it starts up tenfold again. Don’t tell me he means…

Incredibly sharp teeth pierce through the skin on your neck and you let out a scream. Warm blood pools on the surface as he sucks gently before releasing with a pop. He takes a look at his handiwork- at the wound swelling on your neck- and has the audacity to look proud. 

Kirishima presses against you as he begins peeling your clothes from your skin. Something very large and very hard pokes against your thighs and, although you cannot see it, you already have an idea of what it is. Curiosity has you briefly wondering if it looks like a human’s or not.

You don’t have a chance to look down at it from the angle he’s holding you but, once he tears your pants from your body in a violent, eager motion, you quickly get to know what it feels like. It seems to be shaped the same as any human male’s dick, but it’s much larger than what you thought was possible. 

The bulbous head pushes against your unguarded pussy, pressing and pressing until pop- it forces its way inside. You expected unimaginable pain, but you’re instead overrun with pleasure.

The cock fills you out with each inch shoved deeper. It stretched your insides out and, when you look down, you see a visible bulge in your stomach. He’s crammed into you so much your little human body can barely take it.

Kirishima holds you still while he forces his shark cock deeper and deeper. The bulge in your belly is bigger than ever when he comes to a stop. Unconsciously, your hand moves and puts a hand over the bump in your stomach and you hear the man behind you moan with pleasure as you accidentally massage his cockhead.

The thrusts begin, more brutal than you could ever anticipate. Kirishima uses his arms to keep you in place while he fucks into you, tearing apart your vagina and womb easily with his monster cock. 

You writhe with pleasure, barely able to move from your positioning but trying all the same. It’s all too much- his dick is pressed up against every nerve and pleasure spot you have, each thrust hits all the right places.

Kirishima grabs your hips and bend your body a little, moving you into a position where he can fuck you even deeper and harder. It isn’t long before you come undone on his cock, twitching and spasming from the intense pleasure he’s giving you.

Your pulsating walls prove to be too much for the redhead, and he follows you shortly after. His cum floods your insides, inflating your belly a little around the bulge and filling you so completely that some escapes around his cock and into the water around you, making the water turn more milky than clear.

Your eyes roll back in your head as he rolls his hips, getting out those last few drops of cum. His giant cock finally softens and slips out, dirtying the water even more with the cum that escapes your stuffed-full womb.

“Yeah, I’m keeping you.” Kirishima says, grinning widely as he pulls you close. You don’t bother fighting it as he gives a kick of his tail and takes off swimming with you snug in his arms. 

You can feel cum still rushing out of you as he whisks you away to wherever it is he plans to keep you.

[wintfleur]

just a little stella and rutgar fluff please i miss them ☹️

ꔫ sugar cookies and peppermint chapstick

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Rutger McGroarty )

°. — details ( g; so much fluff! w; kissing, I think that’s all. wc; 1.9k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes (MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY! 🎄Thank you so much for requesting this! I genuinely had so much fun writing this, definitely one of my favorite things I’ve ever written! There just so cute! I hope you enjoy it! Please don’t be a silent reader!! )

°. — I KNOW RUT IS IN SWEDEN BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE FIC JUST PRETENDED HES NOT 🫶🏻

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!

“How are you so good at that?” Rutger asked his girlfriend as he took a break from stirring the ingredients for some more sugar cookies, letting go of the plastic spatula to stretch his sore fingers from mixing. His eyes were trained on Stella who stood at the island, leaning forward as she carefully piped icing onto the batch of sugar cookies the couple had made earlier. 

The couple were alone at her brother's lake house, her brothers, their friends and her parents all out doing last minute Christmas shopping. The house was filled with the wonderful aroma of some Christmas candles Ellen had bought and the smell of the many batches of cookies they had made. If you looked outside the windows, you would see everything was covered with snow. And the faint sound of Christmas music playing from the radio on the counter made the home feel even more lovely. 

Stella stood straight and rolled her shoulders to ease them from being hunched over for so long, setting down the white icing bag on the counter and tilting her head to smile at him “Many years of practice, me and Luke were the only ones my mom would trust with helping her” stella scooped up the small drop of icing almost dropping out of the piping bag with her finger, bringing it up to her mouth to suck it off, smiling cheekily at rutger “Quinn and jack always ate all the ingredients. 

“You mean they were the ones that would get caught” Rutger laughed as he went back to mixing the dry ingredients, after they added the wet ingredients, he would soon have to use his hands. Stella laughed and moved away from the island, her slippers shuffling against the floorboards of the kitchen as she moved to stand next to him at the counter next to the oven. She leaned against his left side, resting her chin on his shoulder after she placed a soft kiss on his gray short sleeve clad shoulder. Her eyes glanced down at his flexing forearm from mixing before looking up at him with her brown doe eyes “Exactly.”

Rutger looks away from the Christmas themed mixing bowl and to his girlfriend, he gets lost in her enchanting eyes for a few moments before he gives her a small smirk “My sneaky girl” Stella feels her cheeks instantly warm up at the way he uttered his words. He felt his smirk turn to a grin when he noticed the way her cheeks flushed, Stella bumped her hip into his before stepping back from him. She refuses to walk into his trap and decides to go back to working on the cookies, not before landing a nice slap on his ass. Giggling quietly to herself at the sound of surprise leaving his lips. 

Rutger turns his head to look back at her, ready to complain how it's not fair that she can slap his ass, but he can't slap hers, she had made it clear before they got to the lake house that they can't be as touchy at the house. Stella already had her back faced to him as she looked down at the island, picking up a tree cookie cutter and a stocking one. “Christmas trees or stockings next?” 

“Christmas trees” Rutger picked between the two, knowing that she wants to do Christmas trees next by the way she said it. Stella smiles widely at his choice and sets the tree cookie cutter to the side while she puts the stocking one back in the bag with all the other cookie cutters the family had collected over the years. She cheerfully replies “Great choice” Rutger laughs and starts adding the wet ingredients, making sure to check the laminated piece of paper that had the family sugar cookie recipe. Stella took baking very seriously. 

The couple spent the next ten minutes or so singing along to the Christmas music playing, Stella finishing decorating the cookies and Rutger finishing up mixing the last batch of cookies. While rutger washed his hands from the access cookie dough from his hands, Stella started to roll the dough flat on the marble island, struggling to roll out the dough thoroughly. Rutger dry's his hands off with a towel, it of course being Christmas themed. He moves from the sink and stops to stand behind Stella, his chest pressing against her back as he moves his arms around her to take the dowel style rolling pin from her tired hands. 

Stella smiles and leans back against her boyfriend, his body heat comforting her, feeling the vibration of him humming along to the song on her back. Stella grinned when she noticed that she didn't have to remind Rutger how thin the dough should be rolled out, he had remembered. She tilts her head to look at his side profile, his eyes focused down as his arms flexed and rolled out the dough. She placed a kiss under his jaw, the action immediately making his cheeks flush. 

“What was that for?” Rutger mumbled shyly. 

“What do I need a reason to kiss my boyfriend now?” Stella sassily answered him with a question, raising her eyebrow to emphasize her words. Rutger laughs at her sassiness and places a soft kiss on her temple “Never.” 

“Oh, I love this song!” Stella excitedly exclaimed, startling her boyfriend for a moment from the loud reaction. Rutger doesn't even have to be asked, he moves one of his arms to let her move out from between him and the island, already knowing what she wants. Stella basically skips over to the radio and turns the volume knob to the right, the song getting louder. The very familiar song “Mistletoe” by Justin Bieber fills up the kitchen.  

Rutger tore his eyes from the dough and stopped his hands, a grin on his lips as he watched Stella sway her hips and sing along to the song. She looked so pretty she was wearing green plaid pajama pants that matched with his red ones, she was wearing one of his umich sweaters that looked so big on her, and her hair was in a braid, messy from sleeping in it last night. Her face was bare, and she of course had her grinch slippers on her green sock covered feet. God he was so in love with her. 

“I love you” Rutger voiced loudly over the music, Stella stopped her swaying and turned to face a dimpled smile on her face. Stella stepped closer to him, rutger not flinching when her cold hands cupped his face, he was already used to her cold touch. They both closed their eyes when Stella leaned her face closer to his, rutger leaning down a little to capture her soft lips in a kiss. He’s welcomed by the taste of her peppermint ChapStick, and he eagerly continues the kiss, wanting to taste more. Before he could let go of the rolling pan and move his hands to hold her hips, she pulled her lips away. Rutger fluttered his eyes open, his eyes staring into hers as she whispered, her tone filled of love “I love you more.” 

“We're just missing the mistletoe” he whispered back, his tone playful as he glanced up at the ceiling above them before back down at her. His heart was racing from the kiss, he would never get used to the feeling he felt from kissing stella. Her eyes sparked and she giggled, her tone playful but serious at the same time “Don't worry, I made Quinn buy some. Trust me we will be utilizing it a lot.” 

He kept up his playful tone as he laughed out a response “Oh tons.” 

“So, what Christmas movie should we watch this time?” Stella asked as she plopped down on the living room couch, in her hand was the remote as she turned the tv on. Rutger followed her into the living room, being careful not to trip over her slippers by the couch and set the two steaming mugs of hot chocolate that they had just gotten finished making, on the snow globe coasters that were on the coffee table. He plopped down on the couch next her, lifting her legs for them to rest over his lap. His warm hands already absentmindedly tracing shapes on her covered legs. 

The couple had just put the last batch of cookies in the oven, well Rutger did since stella’s fear of the oven was still very much real! 

“We never did finish the polar express last night” Rutger reminded her, resting his head back against the couch. The couple had started the movie, but they were quick to fall asleep cuddled up in Stella's bed, tired from the long day where they played in the snow with her brothers and their friends. Stella hums in response and goes to her profile on max to resume the movie. 

Stella pressed resume on the movie and adjusted her position to move closer to her boyfriend, her legs still draped over his lap, now her head resting on his shoulder and holding onto his arm. Stella’s eyes were trained on the tv as he watched the movie, but Rutger couldn't find himself focusing on the movie, instead his eyes were trained down at her face. Stella was so into the movie that she didn't feel his stare. 

Rutgers' heart soured with love as he looked down at his girlfriend, thinking of how wonderful it has been being here with her. It was awkward at first, because of the situation with Luke and Jack but they apologized, and Stella made it all worth it. It felt so domestic to be at her home and baking with her, doing family things, he loved it so much. Seeing her so happy with her family and the Christmas spirit she had. He just found himself falling even more in love with her as the trip goes on. 

Rut moved his left hand from her calf and moved to cup her cold cheek, gently tilting her head to look up at him. As soon as they made eye contact, Rutger leaned down to lock her lips in an eager kiss, both of their eyes closing as their lips touched. Their lips moved perfectly against each other as if they had been kissing for years, the taste of her peppermint ChapStick flowing through his senses in the best way. Stella was a little surprised by the sudden kiss, but she was quick to tilt her body more to face him better, letting him lead the kiss. 

They didn't know how long they had been kissing for, both of them pulling away a few times from the passionate kiss to catch their breath before quickly jumping back into the kiss. Rutgers hands rubbed her sides while Stella's hands rested on his chest and shoulder as their tongues moved against each other, taking advantage of the empty house to make out on the couch without the fear of getting caught. Just as he moved one of his hands under her sweater, she abruptly pulled away from the kiss at the sound of the alarm going off. 

“The cookies are ready!” Stella exclaims, quickly moving her legs from his lap and sliding her feet into her slippers before rushing into the kitchen. Rutger groaned at the interruption, throwing his head back against the couch as he caught his breath from the kiss, his mind exploring the thought of them letting the cookies burn and continue. He heard Stella call his name from the kitchen, knowing that she would need him to get the cookies out. He licks his lips tasting her peppermint ChapStick on his lips before getting up from the couch and making his way to the kitchen. 

“Coming pretty girl.” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I literally wrote this in like a hour at 3 am listing to Christmas music in my bed, actually shocked! I loved this so much!! WHY ARE THEY SO PERFECT??? Again!! Please don’t be a silent reader, I love to hear your guys thoughts, reblogs are appreciated! )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @bradenschneider @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Woooo chapter 3 finally

Probably going to at least start the next chapter tonight because I’m so looking forward to writing Mihawk again. He is in this chapter as I promised, but...we do not wake him from his nap. We know better.

But Bogard and Garp have been so much fun honestly. Especially Garp giving Luffy vibes because the brainless dumbassery for sure runs in the family.

Not sure if that applies to Dragon but…look it’d be hilarious if it did—

Anyway, chapter threeeeeeeee

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 3 of like four or something maybe six at most idk, I have a clear ending in sight but I’m not sure how long it’ll take to get there

Brief summary of The Story So Far: So Garp, in his infinite wisdom, had this brilliant idea about how the Marines could use reader's devil fruit ability (zoan type, gray parrot) to spy on this particularly dangerous and elusive pirate up close, and now reader is stuck scoping out Kuraigana Island to see if there are any signs of him there. Bogard may have a coronary before this nonsense is said and done.

First Chapter link, Next Chapter link

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

Possible trigger warning for blood. Possible future trigger warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,057

Haven't really proofread this much but I will in a minute I promise

No tag list yet, I do not expect one but if you're interested in seeing where this bullshit goes just lemme know

♫♬I’m Gonna Be Your Elvis — The Fratellis♬♫

I could not pretend that I was even half amused

When all they ever told me left me shaken and confused

It would have been a beautiful night for a flight, if not for the destination ahead of you.

Kuraigana Island loomed closer as your wings cut through the soft breeze in your transformed state, and catching the wind would ensure that you could simply glide most of the way there without expending too much energy. The chilly night air barely cut through your thick coat of gray feathers, and your dull coloration and the dim light of the crescent moon gave you some reassurance that you would be able to see any potential threat before it could notice you.

Something near the shore by the forest caught your eye, and you swooped in a bit closer to be positive of what you were looking at—and your stomach did a backflip as you confirmed it.

A small vessel was moored there, a boat in the shape of a coffin.

That was confirmation enough that he was here. Part of you considered circling back around the battleship cutting silently through the water a mile or so behind you and reporting this alone to Garp.

But…no. You had been told to fly over, to see what you could from a high enough elevation to avoid detection, and you intended to do just that. This was your first real chance to show your value as a Marine. You couldn’t blow it by turning tail and running the moment you felt the slightest pang of fear. Hardening your resolve, you regained your elevation with a few flaps of your wings, circling the island until you were at a height where you felt safe.

As safe as you could, at least.

The forest was quiet enough—there were no signs of the population of primates Garp had mentioned to you, perhaps all asleep for the evening. Save for the sound of nocturnal birds and insects cutting through the night air, nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the dense forest, or the narrow path that cut through it from the shore. You flew a bit lower, squinting down across the path.

His boat was there. You knew he had to be there somewhere. He never worked with anyone else, so chances were slim to none that he could possibly be anywhere else.

The clearing around the castle was half overgrown itself, littered with ruins and evidence of battles long since ended beneath a thin veil of fog, but the castle itself seemed mostly intact from your vantage point.

Intact, with a dim orange glow glimmering from one of the windows that made you briefly halt in midair, flapping your wings lightly to keep yourself aloft. Fire light. It had to be, there was no other explanation, perhaps the dim glow of a candle or a lantern. There was someone there, someone in a high room of the tower straight ahead of you. That would be enough for you to go back with, more than enough information to all but confirm the reports.

But…if you could get just a little closer, if you could confirm it with your own eyes…

This was a bad idea. It had to be a bad idea. Garp had told you to keep your distance, but you were already swooping down, stopping just beside the window and gripping your talons against the grooves between the stones that comprised the solid wall.

Folding your wings back behind you, slowly and quietly creeping closer to the window.

Closer, just a bit closer, craning your neck the slightest bit to the side to glimpse inside…

The light, as you had thought, came from an oil lantern situated on a small end table, illuminating what appeared to be a sizable den. Most of the visible surfaces in the room were covered with a fine coating of dust that glinted eerily in the flickering glow, from the bookshelves lining one wall to the adjacent hearth. It was quiet at the moment, still, but there was one sign of life that made your heart skip a beat and your breath catch.

Leaning alongside the hearth, unmarred by a single speck of dust, stood a massive sword with a jet-black blade and hilt in the shape of a cross, a glimmering blue gem set into the base of the hilt that seemed to glow in the firelight. Holding your breath as you stared at the weapon, unable to take your eyes off of it, you realized that the room wasn’t quite as silent as you had thought.

The faint whisper of slow, even breathing met your ears.

He was there. He was really there. You considered the likelihood that you were the first Marine to ever get this close without being killed within seconds, considered the idea of taking off back for your ship right that instant.

And then you slowly shifted a little closer to the window, looking around the edge of the windowsill to the other side of the room.

You barely stopped yourself from letting out a gasp.

Reclined back in an old armchair, a book open across his lap, his boots propped up on the table in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted down slightly—it was him. There was no question about it. Even with the small difference from his most recent bounty poster of the angular moustache and goatee, there was no question. You were barely ten feet away from the Marine Killer himself, Dracule Mihawk.

And he was fast asleep.

His chest rose and fell slowly with his deep, even breaths, his eyes closed. His plumed hat sat to the side on an end table, his signature trench coat draped across the back of his chair. You had done it—more than simply scouting for activity, more getting the lay of the land, you had found the man himself.

You jolted in alarm when he shifted in his sleep, quickly pulling your head out of the window, your heart racing.

That, you decided, was more than enough for you to report back. You shifted a careful distance across the wall of the tower, taking care to ensure that your talons didn’t so much as scratch against the stone surface, and took flight back toward the shore, toward the battleship barely visible against the dark water and midnight sky. Gliding just above the treetops, buzzing with adrenaline, you were already swelling with pride. You, a cadet that had spent weeks being taunted and treated like a joke, had managed to use the very ability that had made you a laughingstock to do what no other Marine had yet managed.

For the first time, you had more than just a glimmer of hope that this plan, however ridiculous it sounded on the surface, could actually work.

And then something whizzed past your left wing.

You faltered in your flight, looking around as you flapped your wings a few times to regain your equilibrium. Whatever it was had passed by so fast that you had registered no more than the whistle of wind around it. Maybe a smaller bird or a large bug—

And then it happened again.

And again.

And, as you realized that the objects were coming from below you and looked down, you let out an audible gasp that left you like a strangled squawk.

You were too close to the trees, you realized disjointedly, as you took in the sight of several enormous, ape-like creatures below you. You were also the only bird in the air, which you guessed had a great deal to with the fact that these particular apes were wearing what appeared to be some sort of armor and wielding very human weapons. Swords, spears, axes, and—to your stunned realization—bows.

Another arrow zipped past your right wing, close enough to brush across your feathers.

What the hell what the hell what the hell—

Soaring higher into the air did you little good. The beasts had already spotted you and were following your flight path with ease, still firing arrows, throwing spears (though these, thankfully, didn’t manage to come nearly high enough to pose any threat). You were more than halfway across the expanse of the forest, you could make it, you knew you could.

Nearly to the end of it, dipping higher and lower, zig-zagging through the air to throw off the aim of the strange primates.

Right there, right at the edge of the trees, when a searing pain tore through your right wing, causing you to screech out a swear, glancing down to watch the offending arrow fall and land on the shore below you.

You didn’t even dare glance toward your wing to see how bad the injury was. As long as you didn’t look, it might have only been a scratch. It might have just been a light graze. You tried to ignore how unsteady your flying was, to ignore the fact that you were slowly losing elevation and seemed unable to regain it, that you were swerving to the left no matter how hard you tried not to.

You did focus on the fact that if you fell now, you wouldn’t ever make it back. You’d fall into the nearly black waves below you and sink down into the ocean like a sack of stones, and that would be the end.

Your ship drew closer and closer, growing larger and larger in your line of sight, and you focused on that.

Until you were close enough to glide awkwardly onto the quarterdeck, where Garp and Bogard seemed to be arguing quietly in front of the doors of the Vice Admiral’s cabin, and skid past them across the floorboards, hitting the railing on the starboard side.

Whatever argument your superior officers had been engaged in ceased the moment you transformed, pulling yourself up to sit against the railing, already half-shouting at the older man, “You could have told me they knew how to use weapons!”

You didn’t like the way they stared at you for a long moment, both of their gazes flickering to your right arm, no more than you liked how limp the appendage felt at your side as you gripped at the railing with your left hand.

Garp mumbled something to Bogard, who gave a short nod before disappearing into the cabin.

Garp tilted his head the slightest bit to the side, lifting his eyebrows as he slowly approached you. “That—exactly who knows how to use weapons?” he asked slowly.

“The goddamned apes, that’s who,” you said through your teeth, briefly forgetting every ounce of formality that your time as a Marine had instilled in you. “They had swords! And bows! And armor and spears and—”

“The ap—never mind that for now,” he said slowly, holding up a hand. “You need to calm down, cadet. And we need to get you patched up.”

“Patched up—I could have been killed!”

You still hadn’t looked at your arm. The adrenaline still coursing through your veins made the sharp, throbbing pain seem like an afterthought, like a distant reality as you pulled yourself to your feet. “By a bunch of damned monkeys that evidently—”

“Enough.” You jumped at the harsh command, straightening yourself out completely and snapping to attention in an instant. Your eyes briefly darted to the cabin doors as Bogard emerged, unwinding a belt as he strode over quickly, tossing a quick glare at Garp before lifting your arm and wrapping it around a couple inches below your shoulder. “We can discuss it in a few minutes. We need to get you down to the sick bay first.”

You still didn’t look down, shaking your head at Garp as you stared at him in alarm.

“It was just a scratch, I’m fine—ow—” you added as Bogard abruptly tightened the belt around your arm, glancing over.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the large, deep gash extending nearly from your right elbow to your shoulder.

At the blood steadily spurting out from what was no doubt a pretty important vein or artery.

“O…oh,” was all you could force out, your eyes lowering to the puddle of blood at your feet, the adrenaline rush fading in nearly an instant, leaving you more than a little light-headed. “That’s…”

The makeshift tourniquet around your arm did gradually slow the bleeding by the time you sat down at the edge of one of the cots in the infirmary, but you were still woozy from the blood loss, still lightheaded from everything you had witnessed during your flyover of Kuraigana Island, only catching the vaguest gist of Garp and Bogard’s continued bickering.

“And you didn’t think to inform me of this hare-brained mission beforehand?” Bogard was saying, and while his face was shadowed by the brim of his hat you were sure his expression matched his sour tone.

“It was just recon,” said Garp, sitting at the edge of a cot a few feet away, striking a match and holding it to the end of a cigar clamped between his teeth. “In and out, ten minutes. Didn’t seem like a big deal.”

“And yet here we are,” he said through his teeth, not bothering to glance up at your flinching as he cleaned the gash with an alcohol drenched cloth.

“How the hell was I supposed to know a bunch of goddamned apes would know how to use weapons?” he said, slouching over against the wall. “Wonder if the psychopath trained them…”

“Seeing as we know next to nothing about him aside from the fact that he seems to derive joy from committing mass murder, I don’t suppose anyone knows,” said Bogard, tossing a sidelong glare at the vice admiral, who gave a noncommittal shrug. Bogard tossed the cloth aside with an irritated growl and shoved a clean one into your hands. “Put pressure on that.”

“Yessir,” you said automatically, wincing as you pushed the rag against the wound.

“With all due respect, Garp, this entire farce was your idea,” said Borgard, straightening out from where he had been kneeling next to your cot to cross the room and begin rifling through drawers and cabinets. “I’m sure you can imagine what we’d have to deal with were we to return to headquarters and have to inform Sengoku that our operative was killed en route by a bow-wielding monkey.”

“Eh…” Garp shrugged a shoulder, his own expression souring at the thought. “But hell, at least we know why no one’s made it out of the place now. So we did get some information.”

“And suppose the target had been there?”

“He was.”

Both men froze when you spoke up—Garp halfway through pulling his cigar from his mouth to flick the ashes from the end, Bogard with a drawer halfway shut, both of them slowly turning their heads to look toward you.

“You should probably tell someone at headquarters to update his bounty poster,” you added, tapping at your chin. “He, ah, has a goatee now.”

Both men continued to regard you in stunned silence for several long, tense seconds, glancing at each other as your words slowly sunk in.

Garp’s face split into a grin, and his hearty laughter a moment later completely drowned out his partner’s weary sigh. Bogard slowly closed the drawer, turning around to lean back against the counter behind him, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Were you not instructed to keep your distance?” he said loudly, glowering over at Garp as the older man threw his head back in laughter. You sat up a bit straighter when Bogard turned his glare on you, crossing his arms, frowning at you with the same measure of exasperation. “Had you been seen—”

“I was careful,” you said quickly. “I noticed a light in one of the castle windows. Most of the place is in ruins but the castle is still standing. I only peeked through the corner of the window, he was asleep.”

You decided as his frowned deepened that it was best not to mention how long you had lingered in the windowsill.

“Sounds to me like the kid passed her test with flying colors,” said Garp, still chuckling to himself. He gave you a nod of approval, pointing toward you with the smoldering end of his cigar. “Good work, cadet.”

“It sounds,” said Bogard, pulling the drawer next to him open sharply, “as if our cadet was taking wholly unnecessary risks for the sake of an unnecessarily dangerous and unauthorized ‘test’ of her abilities.” Garp rolled his eyes at the indirect scolding, leaning against the wall of the infirmary again. “Needless to say,” he went on, fishing through the drawer and retrieving a suture kit before shoving it closed, “the next time any of your commanding officers sees fit to pose you with such a mission again…”

He grabbed a clipboard off of the counter, flipped over an empty medical report to its blank side, and tossed it onto the cot next to Garp, before heading back over to sit at the cot across from yours. You watched as he retrieved a large, curved needle and set to threading it, tossing a sharp look at you.

“…you are both advised and encouraged to run it by me first. Understood?” You nodded quickly as he pulled the cloth out of your hands and away from the expansive gash across your arm. “Good. Then you’ll relay what you witnessed during your reconnaissance, and our esteemed vice admiral will take down the report—”

“Why the hell do I have to—”

“Because you’re terrible at applying stitches,” Bogard snapped before Garp could finish his protest. The older man rolled his eyes, snatching up the clipboard and digging a pen out of his pocket. Bogard leaned over with the threaded needle in his hand and added, “This is going to hurt.”

“Probably not much more than nearly having my wing shot off,” you reasoned.

Garp snorted.

Bogard sighed, muttering something under his breath about being surrounded by idiots, before grabbing your wrist and pulling your arm straight, not bothering to give you any warning before jabbing the needle through your skin.

“Just stay still,” he said over the sharp hiss of air your drew in through your teeth at the pain, “and relay your report, cadet."

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First Chapter Link again, for your convenience

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (Interlude): My Little Bunnies

a/n: happy belated easter to all those who celebrate! i wanted to write john & cass' first easter as parents and it became a 10 page fic with smut/fluff/angst. read on to meet their twins, meet cass' parents, learn more about her family history and so much more. and to the anon who sent an ask about them getting a bloodhound, yes. he is here. this was a real labor of love but it is my gift to you. i hope you all love it and please come let me know your thoughts on this little family. xoxo

warnings: smut

When Cass was quiet, it meant she was thinking. And since they had left the driveway of their beach house, she had been quiet. A notebook in one hand and a pen and leash in the other, John thinks she was attempting to memorize her to-do list for Easter Sunday.

“You know part of the reason I was convinced into coming here this weekend was your insistence on family walks,” he looked down at the two little bundles that were already gazing right back at him, “tell Mama she can relax for one night.”

“I’ll relax after everything goes off without a hitch tomorrow. It’s their first Easter and our first time hosting a holiday and the first time my family is seeing the house and-” She paused as Gale let out a sound of discomfort and started to squirm in the carriage, Cass quickly reaching down and smoothing a finger over his cheek with a coo. He quieted just as quickly at her touch and blinked up at her sleepily. “There, there my sweet boy. I’m right here.” Not for the first time, and not for the last time, John was endlessly amazed by his wife. How she managed to be a mother, a wife and still impress the brass in DC was beyond his comprehension. He hadn’t known it was possible to fall more in love with her and here he was. Falling in love with her more and more everyday. 

“We Egan boys get cranky when you aren’t around to dote on us.”

“Is that so? Do you agree with that, Butter?” The bloodhound gave a gentle bark in answer which John took as his agreement. “Well, Miss Penelope does have a habit of looking at every plane in the sky while she waits for you to come home.” He grinned so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“That’s my little lamb,” he said with a gentle tickle to the top of her tummy, her giggles making her parents laugh right along with her. “And what about you? What do you do all day while you wait for me to come home?”

“Oh, I just stare longingly out the window because the thought of you not being around paralyzes me, Lieutenant Colonel Egan.” Cass held her hand to her forehead and feigned hysteria.

“I guess it is kind of beautiful here,” John relented as their walk took them to the beach. The waves were crashing against the sand as the sunset laid a pink backdrop to the view. He lifted his arm and Cass fell into his side with ease.

“I told you so,” she murmured against his chest. Cass had loved growing up on her family’s estate outside of Charleston. She had learned more about life running around that land than she ever had anywhere else. But every summer her mother would take her and siblings for Kiawah Island, where her father would join on occasion, and she would roam free on the sand and in the sun. There were no boys trying to dance with her and her mother didn’t yell at her for being barefoot and she was able to laugh loud and run fast and there were no consequences. “You see that gray house with the white balconies a few hundred yards that way?” She pointed in the general direction and John shaded his eyes to look. 

“That’s not a house, Cass, that’s a mansion.”

“That’s my parents house. My dad built it for my mom when I was little,” she said sheepishly. When she had been old enough to truly understand love and relationships, she had thought it was the most romantic thing. Had seen how happy it made her father to provide for her mother. How happy it made her mother that it was hers and only hers and almost a monument to the life they created together. “Since then, I’ve always wanted to raise my own family here.” John watched her caress the cheeks of their sleeping children with a smile.

“All I ever want, Cass, is for you and Gale and Penelope to be happy and safe. Nothing else matters to me.” The white house that was surrounded by trees on one side and the beach on the other had been a dream of Cass’ for a long time. She had told him about it back at Thorpe Abbotts and he had dreamed about it in his bunk on those cold German nights. Dreamed about buying it for her and carrying her over the threshold and filling it with their love and the pitter patter of little feet. 

“Lucky for you, that’s all I want, too. And maybe some more kisses.” 

“You’re saying I don’t kiss you enough?” he asked with raised eyebrows. She shook her head.

“Not nearly enough.” John had worked overtime for months to set aside enough for the down payment. Had turned down her father’s offer to buy it as a wedding gift. He had wanted to get this for her, for his wife, all on his own. She was the reason he was alive. It was only a drop in the bucket for what he owed her. 

“It’s talk like that that got us here in the first place,” he whispered with a nod towards the carriage. “You being a little kiss thief.” Butter whined with displeasure.

“He doesn’t like when you’re snarky to me.” Their chests were pressed together now, his nose bumping hers as he laughed. “You’re the one that spent his whole puppy life telling him he had to be my guard dog,” she added with a gentle poke to his chest. Cass had just sweet talked her way into convincing John that Butter was meant to come home with them, having found him in a horse stall at her family’s place, when he asked if she wanted to take a drive to the beach. She thought he meant somewhere close but as they drove past the turn for Folly she began to get an idea of where he was taking her. She remembers her heart sinking when SOLD was in big red letters on the sign. John had asked if she wanted to take a look around anyways. For old time’s sake. 

“Yeah and when he successfully chased that crazy bird away from you last month you were very grateful for it.” He scratched behind the hounds ears for good measure.

“I was. Seagulls scare me, you know that.” Ever since one had snatched her lunch right out of her hands on the very beach they were looking at when she was still in pigtails. Cass had told him that story while they walked around the house. Her hands wistfully touching the floors and her smile at the scent of the water making it hard for John to keep the secret in. She had known back then she was pregnant, hadn’t found the right time to tell John yet and hadn’t known there were two baby Egans on their way, but had told him she hoped this house made a family happy. That they loved it the way she had as a little girl and didn’t change a thing. He had told her to close her eyes and hold out her hand. And she looked confused at the cool metal that he placed in her palm, understanding registering when she opened her eyes and saw it was a key.

 What do you say we fill this house with our family, my love?

----

As it was most mornings, her nightgown was bunched around her waist as she gasped into John’s mouth. She was gently rotating her hips while his fingers gripped her hips tighter and tighter and his hips thrusted up into her slowly. 

“Fuck, John,” she moaned as he sat up and kissed her roughly. 

“You close, baby?” It was always a bit of a race to get there before the twins woke or before a housekeeper or nanny knocked on the door to get the day started. John wished he had all the time in the world every time but wouldn’t trade the moments he had with her for anything, no matter how quickly they went. “Look me in the eyes, my sweet girl.” His thumb found her clit between them and pressed until she threw her head back.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she panted as she knocked her forehead against his. John wouldn’t even dare to think to stop as she came undone around him and his own finish followed instantly. He fell back against the pillow, her lips on his the entire time, and stroked her cheek gently as he tried to regain control of his breathing. “Think they’ve got five more minutes in them so we can-” The sound of one baby crying pierced the tranquility followed in quick succession by the other. 

“That’s a no,” he remarked with a smile. “They probably think if they cry loud enough, you won’t make them dress all fancy and go to church.”

“They are always perfectly well behaved at church.” Butter’s barking joined the cacophony and the bubble was fully burst. “If you let him out and start the coffee, I can change diapers and get their clothes out.” He gave her bottom a gentle pat as she begrudgingly let him slip out of her. 

“Hey, Spook?” Cass turned from where she was slipping her underwear on. “I love you.” Unable to keep herself from blushing, she pecked him one last time before the craziness of the day settled in. 

“Hey, John?” He hummed with delight as his nose rubbed against hers. “I love you, too.”

----

True to her word, the twins behaved like angels at their first Easter mass. Gale had only tried to kick his shoes off for a few minutes and Penelope had only required John to make silly faces through one hymn. Cass had rolled her eyes on their way out the door as her husband produced two stuffed bunnies from behind his back and tucked them between their fingers. She had reminded him they each had a whole basket of stuffed bunnies waiting to be opened by the fireplace and probably many more arriving as gifts later in the day. One more from their dad couldn’t hurt was all he had to say.

The house was near mayhem when they arrived back. Caterers had taken over the kitchen, their house manager Alice was leading a small army in pillow fluffing and men with white gloves were polishing glasses in the dining room. John was once again reminded how differently he and his wife had grown up.

“Mr. and Mrs. Egan, Happy Easter, I hope you had a wonderful morning.” Alice reached for Cass’s purse and gloves, taking them before smiling at the sleeping twins who each had a head on one of their father’s shoulders. “I can have Joan take them off your hands, sir.” 

“It’s quite alright, Alice, I think the three of us are going to find a cozy spot on the beach to keep out of my lovely wife’s way.” 

“Perhaps someone could find them an umbrella and blanket and chair?” Cass inquired as she began to walk towards the kitchen, handing Alice her hat as well along the way. “How’s the ham looking? It smells wonderful.”

“Yes, ma’am, we’ll get the beach set up for them. And the ham should be ready to carve exactly as we scheduled dinner for.” John side stepped around a group carrying boxes down the hall. “That would be the two options for porcelain Mrs. Cooper sent for your consideration.”

“Porcelain?” John thought it was a simple family dinner. He didn’t think it would be such an affair when Cass broached him with the idea of hosting.

“Yes. And if I pick the wrong one then I will never hear the end of it.” She turned back to Alice. “I’ll need to see a complete place setting of each one.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have them get right on it.” 

“What happened to you not wanting to be reduced to a housewife?” John asked as he walked towards the back door, Cass opening it for him and following him down the back steps and onto the sand. 

“I just want everything to be perfect today. I’ll be back to the Spook you know and love as soon as this is over.” 

“First, I love all of you, all the time. Second, I heard you talking to Alice and Joan about hiring more staff, that word is honestly beyond my comprehension, when we go back to Virginia.” Cass took Penelope from him and laid her gently on the shaded blanket that had been set up, her hand brushing over her curls and kissing her forehead gently. 

“And? You don’t want the help?”

“I thought the two of us were getting by quite well on our own.”

“I can’t put off going back to work any longer and I want someone I know and trust with them during the day. And if Alice or Joan are watching them, then they need someone else to do the things they have been doing.” Sure her and John had figured out a rhythm. But eventually Cass needed to get back to doing the work she loved. Rediscover who she was just as Cass and not just as John’s wife or her children’s mother. “Besides, they aren’t watching them so I can go to tea or try on dresses. I need to get back in there. You know what they’ve been saying about Korea.”

“Is that what you’ve been worried about? It’s a few years from anything active, Cass, if anything at all.” She wasn’t used to the anxiety that coursed through her veins after she had the twins. Wasn’t used to feeling her chest so heavy when she thought about how hard this world was going to make it to protect them. 

“Yes, but if I can even do one thing to help prevent them from having to live through a war…” She trailed off and wiped angrily at her eyes, lifting Penelope against her chest and kissing the top of Gale’s head where he still rested against John. “I don’t want them to ever have to experience anything like what we went through.” He gathered her into his side and kissed her temple.

“We went through that so they could live in a better world,” he said softly. “Came out the other side because right here, right now is where we belong.” She looked up with a laugh as she noticed Butter trotting his way over to them, his nose sniffing at Gale and Penelope before he plopped on his side in the shade. 

“If it bothers you, I’ll tell them all to go home and never come back. The five of us can figure the rest out.” 

“No, they’re fine. It’s just not how we did things in Wisconsin. It’s taking some getting used to.” He had assumed Cass came from money when he met her. The well-manicured nails and silk nightgowns and impeccable table manners cluing him in. He just hadn’t realized he was marrying into a Carolina rice dynasty. It came with multiple homes and polo matches and hunting trips and acres of land and hundreds of employees in the home and around the burgeoning corporation. For so long, Cass had thought marriage and kids were not in the cards for her so the structure of a household was a non-existent problem. But then she had fallen in love with John Egan and married him in London and spent two years dreaming of their future and the comforts of her childhood had found their way in.

“Well, Butter, you keep an eye on these three while I pick out porcelain and tie drapes and whatever the heck else a lady is supposed to do these days.” With one last kiss to the top of her daughter’s head, her son’s head and her husband’s head, Cass was off and pulled into a million directions upon re-entering her home. Whenever she could, she would look out the window at her husband tickling their tummies or helping them put sand in a bucket or carrying them to dip their toes in the water. She knew none of the material things around her mattered. And if it made John more comfortable to get rid of them, she would in a heartbeat. She only needed those three humans and the one furry family member to be happy. To be fulfilled in this life beyond her wildest dreams. Any threats on the horizon be damned.

----

Cass waited anxiously for her parents' new Italian sounding car to pull into the driveway, her siblings, extended family and some of the local friends her and John had found already socializing about the house and grounds. She had taken a sip of her husband’s whiskey she was so nervous. 

“Baby, I know for a fact your dad is going to be too focused on the twins and the other grandchildren running around to even care about the way I carve the ham. And who cares if your mother doesn’t like the color of the shutters? I didn’t spend a whole weekend painting them for her.” He had for Cass. She had spent days deciding between two shades of green that John thought were exactly the same but had provided his minimal input when asked. 

“I rewarded you handsomely for your efforts, Mr. Egan.” John remembered. They hadn’t left their bed for days after Cass couldn’t stand the sight of him sweaty and with a pencil tucked behind his ear working on their house any longer. She had had her way with him and John had taken on many more projects around the house ever since. And every time, his wife was unable to maintain even a shred of decency. 

“I never got that round two you were mentioning this morning, Mrs. Egan,” he mused as he drifted closer and closer until his hands wrapped around the small of her back and her arms draped over his shoulders.

“We have a house full of guests,” she giggled as he nipped gently at her lips. 

“Yes but the babies are occupied which means no little angelic interruptions.” She moaned as he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, her toes curling in her new heels. 

“Not even on Easter Sunday can you two find a sense of decorum?” 

“Shush, Gale, they’re in love,” Marge said with a gentle slap to his arm. If Gale Cleven had a nickel for everytime he had caught the two of them in various stages of passion, he would have been able to use the profits alone to buy a similar house to the one he was standing in.

“Oh, I am so happy you were able to make it!” Cass kissed Gale on the cheeks eagerly and let out a squeal of delight as she wrapped Marge in a hug. “I’ve got you both all set up in the guest room furthest from the nursery so you can hopefully sleep in peace while you’re here.” Before John could even say his own hello, Cass and Marge were off towards the backyard with their heads close together as they whispered. 

“Well, we did always say they’d be thick as thieves,” he remarked as he grabbed the suitcase Marge had abandoned by the door. “Up this way.” Gale smiled and nodded politely at all the strangers that were dressed in black and white, bustling in and out of the kitchen and dining room with haste. He could only imagine how it was driving his best friend crazy.

“Who would’ve thought? John Egan having ten people cook his Easter dinner for him,” Gale teased as John set the suitcase down in the guest room and dropped himself into the armchair by the window. 

“I hear it’s being served on porcelain,” he mused back. Gale settled in the chair across from him. 

“It’s a beautiful house, John. You’ve got to be proud of yourself.” John stared out the window and nodded.

“Yeah, it is. Makes Cass happy to be out here.” It wasn’t that she was unhappy at their home in Virginia but John knew she missed South Carolina. Missed the beach and her family being close by. 

“And are you happy?”

“With her and the kids, always. Just learning this new side to her is all.”

“That seems to be what marriage entails. Learning to love something new everyday.” The hum of a car engine broke the comfortable silence between two old friends and Gale peeked out the window with a low whistle. “Is that a Maserati?”

“That it would be, Buck. You want to come distract my mother in law with your good looks for me?” When John and Cass had their more official wedding last year, Buck Cleven had been the hottest commodity. The women of Charleston hadn’t given him a moment to breathe. 

“No I think you’ve got the Cooper women under control, Bucky.” Gale clapped him between his shoulder blades. “Now where’s that beautiful baby you named after me?”

Cass was at the bottom of the stairs waiting with a baby on each hip, Gale kissing their sprouting curls on his way to find Marge on the beach, and John forgot all about anything negative he had been feeling that day. 

“Say hi Daddy, we were looking for you.” The twins smiled like they always did when they had their parents attention solely on them. The sound of Cass’ voice bringing them a calmness only John could ever begin to relate to. 

“Hi, my little bunnies.” John took Penelope onto his own hip, kissing her cheek around the stuffed bunny ear that was between her teeth, Cass reaching to tuck a few of his curls back into place. “I thought you preferred them all messy.”

“I do but-” the door opened and the words died in her throat. 

“Cassandra Ann, that dog of yours does have a habit of sticking his nose all over the place.” 

“Hi, Mama. Happy Easter to you, too.” John whistled for Butter who came and sat at his side dutifully. “Hi, Daddy.” She pressed a kiss to each of her parents’ cheeks and almost cringed as she saw the line of valets carrying colorful baskets into the backyard. The level of stuffed animals entering her home was reaching a near suffocating level. 

“Oh, John, how handsome you look this afternoon.” Cass rolled her eyes as her mother stepped forward to kiss John’s blushing cheeks.

“Thank you, ma’am, you’re looking very lovely yourself. Sir.” He shook her father’s hand firmly, smiling when Penelope reached for her grandfather instantly. 

“Cassandra, aren’t you going to show me around? I’m very curious as to which place setting you chose.” She looked at John to say I told you so before guiding her mother down the hall. 

“Of course. We can start in the dining room if you’d like.” John felt like a bad father as his son looked at him with wide blue eyes over his mother’s shoulder as they disappeared around the corner but he would make it up to him with something sweet after dinner.

“Can I offer you something to drink, sir?” 

“Whiskey, John, thank you.” While John had had to work his charm hard on Mrs. Cooper to convince her he wasn’t a street urchin there to steal her daughter, Mr. Cooper had taken no convincing to know John was the right man for his daughter. Had sat down for one dinner with the two of them and saw how they looked at each other. How he had kept a hand on her protectively the entire time. Had seen the absolute gratitude in Cass’ eyes that John was alive and next to her every time she looked at him.

“I told Cass you’d be more interested in the grandkids than the way I carved the ham later,” he pointed out as Penelope was filled with utter glee at the way her grandfather was tickling her cheeks with her bunny.

“Cassandra has always been my most perceptive child yet, on occasion, forgets that is one of her own most formidable qualities.” John handed him a glass, bringing them together with a clink before taking a sip. “How is my daughter doing?” 

“This one and her brother keep her busy and she’s looking forward to getting back to work. But she’s good. She smiles everyday, I’ll always make sure of it.” Penelope’s lower lip began to wobble and John gathered her against his chest just as the first tear rolled down her chubby cheek. 

“I can go find the nanny-”

“I’ve got it, sir.” John kissed her forehead gently and she quieted. “She’s just like her mother. Pouts until she gets a kiss then she’s fine.” Now she was focused on the fabric of John’s tie and trying to get it into her mouth. Yes, Mr. Cooper thought, Cass had made the perfect decision to marry this man.

“Son, if I may offer a few pointers on carving the ham.”

----

Hours later, after bellies were full and babies were sleepy, the house was beginning to calm down. Cass had shed her stockings and tied her hair back and accepted Marge’s offer to put the twins to sleep. There were people finishing dishes in the kitchen and packing away porcelain in the dining room. Alice was orchestrating the entire effort for which she was grateful, her fingers wrapping around the neck of a bottle of whiskey and heading towards the small fire that was glowing on the beach.

“You hiding from me?” she teased as she dropped a kiss to the top of his head and sat in the chair next to him.

“Never, baby. Was just having a cigarette before coming in to help with bedtime.” Cass wanted him to quit but was starting with not allowing him to smoke around the kids. She handed him the whiskey and took the cigarette from his fingers, inhaling a few times before putting it out in the sand. 

“Marge asked if she could put them to bed for practice. I ran away before she changed her mind,” she giggled. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked around a pull from the bottle.

“Everything.” 

“Spook, you know my ego needs specifics.” He opened his arms, summoning her into his lap, and closed his eyes in peace as her head settled under his chin.

“Not letting me chase you away all those years ago. Not divorcing me when I showed up at your bunk bed in Germany. Our babies.”

“I had very little to do with those two but I’ll take it.” She kissed him gently, lovingly. Without a care in the world and in no rush. “Everything to your liking today?”

“Yes. I promise we won’t host anymore holidays for awhile.”

“You pick the right porcelain?” 

“Of course not.” John laughed and she joined in, taking her own swig of alcohol. “And I was very impressed by your knife skills at dinner.” John kissed the tip of her nose.

“Your dad told me it was important the man of the house not treat it like carving a ham but like he could use the knives to protect his family.”

“Did he?” she asked with a furrowed brow. 

“I think he was trying to convince me to take it more seriously. It worked.” 

“It certainly seemed it did.” Cass twisted her finger around the loose curl in the middle of his forehead as he looked out towards the ocean. “I do have one last ask up my sleeve.” Slowly undoing the buttons of her dress, John was more focused than he had been all day. Between her breasts was an Easter egg with hearts painted on it. 

“I would’ve joined in on the egg hunt had I known, Cass.” 

“Open it.” As soon as he had it in his fingers, her lips were on his jaw and down his neck and he had an inkling what might be inside. He could barely read the words she had written as the blood rushed from his head to between his legs. Round two? His lips were on hers in an instant, John groaning as his hand slid up her thigh and found nothing but bare skin. She made quick work of his belt and zipper, sliding his waistband down just enough to free him. 

“Fuck, baby, no time for teasing.” His hands lifted her hips and he sunk into her with a contented sigh, his lips latching onto her collarbone as she found a steady pace. “Want the neighbors to hear how good I make you feel.”

“John,” she whined as his hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed gently. Unable to hold himself back, he laid her onto the blanket and used the new leverage to increase the pace, her legs hooking around his hips and urging him to go harder and faster. “You’re going to make me cum.” 

“You look so pretty when you cum, baby,” he cooed into her ear as he felt her clenching around him. “That’s my good girl, taking me so well.” His wife looked so good underneath him. Like she truly was made to be his. 

“Fuck, right…there…oh, God,” she arched her back into him as her orgasm washed over her in a waves, John’s hips stuttering as he moaned into her mouth and she took all he had to give her. “I love making you moan.” John was handsome and rugged and all the masculine words that she could think of. But he was also so damn pretty.

“Good thing you’re so good at it,” he said as he nuzzled into the side of her neck. “You’ve worn me out, Mrs. Egan.”

“Can you carry me to bed?” she murmured as her own eyelids were growing heavy. 

“Just let me hold you like this for a few more minutes.”

“Hey, John?” He kissed the side of her neck in acknowledgment. “I love you.”

“Hey, Spook?” She smiled in anticipation. “I love you, too.”

And if Gale earned another nickel as he was closing the blinds that night, no one needed to know.

[whatsnewalycat]

bunny - one shot

Javier Peña x PhoneSexOperator!Reader - Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation, aliens??

A/N: Just for funsies. I’m gonna do a second part to this at some point in time. Is it considered a one shot then??? Idk. Enjoy ☎️

EDIT: LINK TO SECOND PART HERE

The first time you heard Javier Peña’s voice was in 1998.

Fresh off a call with one of your regulars, Dale, with whom you role played an alien abduction fantasy, detailing the things you would theoretically do to extract his sperm in an attempt to make an alien-human hybrid clone. You told him all about how you were wrapping your spindly, gray, extraterrestrial fingers around his cock, pumping his throbbing manhood, so warm, so deliciously human. From wherever he was, a wet slapping sound and shaky little moans filled your ears.

Sometimes you theoretically shoved things up his ass while he actually shoved things up his ass. Probing, he called it. Sometimes you’d theoretically take him in your tiny, lipless alien mouth while you sat at your kitchen counter and stretched your very human lips around a dildo, rutting up and down until you were gagging and gasping for air. Dale, on the other end, would start out whimpering no, don’t, I have a wife. Then as the squelching sounds of the dildo in your mouth grew wetter, faster, he would grunt out things like fuck yes, you fucking like that you naughty little alien?

Only after he came would he allow the façade to break, mumbling a thank you, telling you about how his wife thought his fetish was too weird to partake in this kind of role play. You said that you enjoyed his calls because it allowed you to be creative and… actually, you found it kind of hot. He said he’d talk to you soon and dropped the call.

Then the next call came in.

“Hi,” you purred, “What’s your name?”

“Javier,” he replied, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The dulcet baritone of his voice was smooth and sure. There was clinking and a long sip from his end, indicating that he was drinking.

“Bunny,” you told him, “What’re you drinking tonight, Javier?”

This was a fake name, of course, and was listed in your newspaper ad alongside a grainy black and white picture of a woman who was most definitely not you. Most men know this, sometimes asking what’s your real name? Or, what do you really look like? And you always tell them the same thing: I’m whatever you want me to be, handsome.

A fantasy. A shapeshifter. Custom-tailored to outfit their most depraved sexual cravings.

“Whiskey,” he answered, “How long have you been doing this… Bunny?”

As thinly-veiled as his disbelief was, you appreciated his attempt to suspend it when he said your fake name.

“About a year now,” you started off around your kitchen’s island counter, stepping heavy to let him hear your heels click-clack against the tiled flooring. That really got some men going.

The wet swallow of his throat, a slurp, then a quiet sigh. Another sip of his whiskey. He then inquired, “Do you like it?”

“I do,” you replied earnestly, looking up at your ceiling, studying the grooves of the light fixture hanging above you, “I get to talk to all kinds of interesting people.”

His throat rumbled in acknowledgment.

“How was your day today, handsome?” you prodded, trying to sus out what this man’s motive was for calling. Some people take a while to gather the courage to come out with it. A few just want to talk.

“It was shit,” he grumbled. The flick of a lighter, then a muffled inhale, exhale. Smoking.

“What can I do to make it better?” you asked, edging your voice along the rasp of your throat.

Javier took a long drag off (what you assumed to be) his cigarette, then said, “Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

You frowned and hummed in contemplation, searching your mind for what you think would make Bunny happy.

Then he added, “But don’t give me some horse shit answer like you’re just so happy with a cock crammed down your throat, ok sweetheart? Real answer.”

This made you laugh, and you told him, “Sure. Ok, let me think.”

“I like your laugh,” he commented softly while you were digging through your brain.

“Thank you, Javier,” you smiled, then started pacing around your island counter as you mulled over an answer that’s real, but not too real as to reveal the tender parts of yourself you keep separate from this job.

He waited patiently, sipping his drink and smoking.

“There’s a bird feeder in the garden of my apartment complex,” you confided as you leaned against the counter and crossed an arm across your soft middle, “In the morning I sit out on my deck and watch the birds while I drink coffee.”

“And that makes you happy?” he asked. His voice was flat and unbelieving.

“It does,” you confirmed, nodding your head as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, “I think it’s important to take joy in the small things. Like how the sky looks when the sun is rising. Or when I see a black-crested titmouse at the bird feeder.”

“A what?” Javier chuckled, and it was warm and deep and genuine, “What’re you, a Boy Scout?”

“Bunny scout,” you joked.

Heat spread across your face like wildfire when he laughed at this. The sound made your heart skip a beat.

“And, what makes you happy, Javier?” you asked then, dropping your voice to sultry croon.

He grunted at this. The sound of a fridge opening. Ice clattering into his glass. The glug-glug-glug of whiskey being poured.

You pushed off the counter and walked around the island again, the click-clack of your heels on tile sounding off every second like a timer.

“I suppose, the company of a beautiful woman like you is enough to make me happy.”

“I thought you said no horse shit answers,” you teased.

He laughed again, which made you smile, then he cleared his throat and admitted quietly, “I’ve been trying to figure it out lately.”

“Trying to figure out what makes you happy?”

“Trying to figure out what happiness is,” he clarified.

The salience of his admission struck you. You hummed to emphasize its poignancy, then told him, “Happiness is whatever you want it to be, handsome.”

Javier was the one humming then. A long sip of his whiskey. The sound of a lighter sparking the tip of a cigarette.

“Can I ask you to do something for me, sweetheart?”

“Whatever you want, Javier,” you cooed.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You looked down at your baggy t-shirt and biker shorts, “A red lace bra and matching panties.”

“What you’re really wearing, Bunny,” he purred, “Let me see you how you are.”

“I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt,” you admitted with a smirk.

“Take your shirt off,” he instructed.

You placed the phone on the counter and pulled your shirt off over your head, dropping it next to the phone. When you brought it back to your ear, you notified him, “My shirt is off.”

“Mmm, good girl,” he breathed, “Bra?”

“Not wearing one,” you told him, “I’m… topless in my kitchen right now.”

“Squeeze your tits.”

With your free hand, you grazed your breast, then pinched your nipple with a whimpered, “I’m squeezing my tit.”

“The other one, too.”

You complied, attending to the opposite side with another airy whimper.

“Do you still have shorts on?”

“Yes.”

“Take them off.”

You shimmied your shorts and underwear down to your ankles, then stepped out of them, “They’re off.”

The jingling of a belt buckle. A zip. More jingling. A soft exhale.

“I’m touching myself,” you told him as you dragged your fingertip along your seam, exploring the ridges and valleys of your sex.

“Tell me more.”

“I’m rubbing my clit,” you narrated your actions in a throaty whisper, “Drawing circles around it, it feels so fucking good, Javier.”

“Suck on your fingers.”

You did this, humming and licking around your digits.

“Are they wet?”

“Yes.”

“Spit in your hand. I wanna hear it.”

You gathered a wad of saliva on your tongue and spit it onto your fingers.

“Good,” he rumbled, “Rub your clit again, sweetheart.”

A whimper fell from your lips as you follow his instructions, “Oh my god, Javier.”

He groaned and the sound dripped down your center, hot and tangible as it pooled inside you.

“Are you stroking your cock?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

“Good,” you purred, “Fuck, this feels so fucking amazing, baby.”

“Tell me more,” his voice was low and strained.

“Rubbing my swollen fucking clit, I’m so fucking wet,” you whined, and it was real, the heat gathering at your core and pooling between your legs.

“Let me hear how fucking wet you are, sweetheart.”

You slid your touch down your lips and spread your slick around, then sank two fingers into your cunt. With a shaky moan, you started fucking yourself, letting the wet squelch of your arousal sound off freely, breathing, “Can you hear that, Javier? How much you turn me on?”

“Oh my god, yes-” he groaned, “Are you fingering yourself?”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Get on your knees,” he instructed, so you did, then he told you, “Put the phone on the ground so I can hear you. Keep doing what you’re doing, baby, make yourself feel fucking good. I wanna hear you make yourself cum.”

“Setting the phone down,” you told him, then put it to rest on the floor between your spread knees.

This man’s stern instructions swirled around in your head, filling you with fire. You followed the urges of your flesh, moaning wantonly as your hands worked your body, “Yes yes yes- just like that, Javier, that’s fucking perfect-”

You arched your back and let your eyes flutter shut, picturing this faceless stranger getting off on the sound of your moans, the wet sound of your fingers rutting in and out of your pussy. Frantic whimpers huffed from your throat as you chased this shimmering, golden orb of pleasure, “Yes, Javier, yes yes yes baby, I’m gonna cum- that’s it, Javier- oh my god yes, I’m fucking cumming-”

Your words caught in your throat. The strumming of your touch on your clit, your fingers inside you, the stranger stroking himself, it all tightened and lifted you. The swell of an orgasm overtook your body and crashed down on you. You released a shattered moan as your pussy fluttered around your fingers.

When you picked up the phone, your breath was ragged, chest heaving, “Did you get that, handsome?”

He was panting, too, “So fucking hot.”

“Did you cum for me?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I did.”

The flick of a lighter on the tip of a cigarette.

You giggled, “I wish I could have heard it.”

“Is that right?” he rumbled, taking a drag of his smoke.

“Yeah. I think it’s sexy,” you admitted, then added, “Maybe next time.”

“When can I talk to you next?”

You gave him your schedule. It became a weekly occurrence, these calls with Javi, which you eventually were given permission to call him. He was your favorite caller.

With most of your callers, there was an expectation that you would morph yourself into their fantasies. Which is fine. It’s something you enjoyed about your work as a phone sex operator. But there was something so freeing about your calls with Javi, how he wanted you to be yourself. Your real self turned him on more than any of the bullshit.

He never asked for your real name, although you could tell he wanted to know it. Every time he called you Bunny, it left his lips with a kind of disdain. Like he couldn’t stand you pretending to be someone he knew you weren’t. He opted to use sweetheart or baby instead, which you liked.

Javier was a loyal customer for two more years, until you were hired as a professor at The University of Texas San Antonio and finally had the financial freedom to quit your side gig as a phone sex operator. Truth be told, you grew quite attached to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him it was your last call when it happened. Goodbyes have never been your strong suit.

Little did you know, no goodbye was necessary. Because it wouldn’t be the last time you’d hear his voice.

[ part 2 ]

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

All Falls Down - Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who likes, commented and reblogged part 1. I'm happy you guys like it.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

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Four months… four fucking months 

That was the only thing going through Kiyana’s mind the next morning as she laid in bed. Four Months. He had thrown away 23 years for four months. Sighing, she sat up and grabbed her phone checking for messages, rolling her eyes at the 27 text messages from Josh. With each message she could tell that he was drunk. 

Getting out of bed, she carefully cleaned up the glass from the broken picture framed, then groaned when she saw the hole in the wall from the alarm clock she threw. Add that to her list of things to do today.

After getting dressed in one of Josh’s shirts and some gray sweatpants, she walked downstairs and into the living room, rolling her eyes at Josh’s passed out body on the couch, a half drunk bottle of Hennessy on the floor by his side. “Pathetic” she muttered as she walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, opening up her Macbook to search for a good divorce lawyer. 

After searching and saving some numbers Josh shuffled into the kitchen and sat down in the chair next to her. She said nothing to him as he peered into her laptop. 

“Divorce attorneys? Key, come on. You being serious right now?”  Kiyana looked at him like he had three heads. This man really done lost his mind. 

“What part of you cheated do you not understand? It’s not like before when you missed Kaiden’s second birthday or our wedding anniversary. You stepped out on our marriage during one of the most vulnerable times of my life.  I do not want to talk to you. I do not want to even be in the same room as you, but you just don’t seem to get that.” 

“Baby-”  

“Just stop. Please.” She sighed, getting up from the table and trying to walk out of the kitchen but he stopped her by grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him. 

“I want to fix this Kiyana.”  She shook her head, 

“There’s no fixing this Josh.” She said softly, pulling her arm out of his grip and walking out of the kitchen

After getting her kids back from Talisua’s  house, Kiyana tried to be cordial and tried to pretend like everything was normal for the sake of her kids but everytime Josh came near her she wanted to smack him in his face. 

So for the rest of the day, she steered clear of him. Everytime he came into a room that she was in she immediately left it. She couldn’t escape him while making dinner though, and he knew that. She groaned quietly when he strolled into the kitchen and sat at the island counter with their oldest son Kamari who was six who was playing with his action figures. 

Josh had tried to talk to Kiyana only stopping when she sent a deadly glare his way. When Kamari asked why she was ignoring his daddy she had come up with some lame excuse that she and Josh were playing the quiet game. 

Later that night after putting Kamari and Kaiden to bed, Kiyana was sitting on her bed, rocking Kairo to sleep after giving him a bottle when Josh knocked softly on the bedroom door. “I have an early flight tomorrow, Key. I already said bye to Kamari and Kaiden.” He said, knocking softly again.  “Please I just wanna see Kairo.. And you” She rolled her eyes and moved off the bed to open the door for him.

She said nothing as she stepped to the side to let him enter the room. She was tempted to knock him upside the head when he walked past her but she refrained herself. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, taking Kairo out of her hands.  “I’m only doin’ two house shows this weekend so i’ll be home after Raw on Monday.” He let out a frustrated sigh when she ignored him. “Is this how it’s gon’ be Key? You ignoring me?” 

“Yes, until I can find a place of my own.” That stopped him in his tracks. He made sure Kairo was sleeping before he placed him down in his bassinet and walked over to Kiyana. 

“Whatchu’ mean a place of your own? You movin’ out?”  He gritted his teeth when she ignored him again. “So I make one mistake and you don’t even want to try to work things out?”

“One mistake that took you four months to confess. A mistake that if it was me, you wouldn’t of hesitated to file for a divorce, but since it’s you I’m suppose to just say fuck it and continue to be with you? No fuck that and fuck you!”  She whispered/shouted. Mindful of Kairo. 

“We don’t have to get a divorce Kiyana. We can go to therapy or counseling.” He tried to grab her hands but she pushed him away. “Key, we can talk it out like we always do.” She let out a sarcastic laugh.

“This doesn’t even compare to anything we’ve ever been through. For twenty-three years I stood by your side.” She seethed, pointing a finger at him. “When you quit your job and went to Houston with Eddie, I followed you so that you could train and we could still be together and when you hurt your knee before you got signed  and needed surgery, I got a second job just so you could pay for the surgery. I had two jobs and was in the middle of nursing school but I did it for you.” 

Josh could only stand there and stare at her. He knows he fucked up and he wishes he could go back in time to not fall into temptation. 

“And the worse part.” She let out a watery laugh, wiped the tears from her face “The last four months of my pregnancy were horrible, you know what I was going through- from losing my father to being hospitalized two weeks before Kairo was born and you still went and had an affair.” 

Josh could only stand there and stare at her. He knows he fucked up and he wishes he could go back in time to not fall into temptation. 

Just hearing how much pain and heartbreak he caused he made him break down. He pulled her into his arms, and held on to her tightly. He just kept repeating how sorry he was. It was all he could say. 

She pushed him away from her and walked over to the bed, getting in it, she turned the lamp on the side table off before laying down. “Shut the door behind you.” 

He stood there for a while, before sighing “I love you Kiyana.” He said before walking out of the room. 

whew, i'm breaking my own heart with this series. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

[aroacewxs]

rui facts that are common knowledge atp but i just feel like repeating

hates vegetables because of their texture, and dislikes anything that has similar texture to certain vegetables. example: he hates watermelon because apparently to him the texture is just like a cucumber's? he's not very fond of many fruits either, albeit he dislikes them less than vegetables

only eats at places he's a regular at and becomes distressed when the menu changes. he picks off all vegetables from his food and sometimes emu helps him and eats anything he doesn't like

preferred rivers and lakes over pools as a kid. he would search for shiny rocks and the like in these rivers and lakes and show nene his discoveries

he owned many encyclopedias as a kid. one of them being one about poisonous plants. it had a bright red cover that scared nene LMAO but he read it over and over so now he can recognize which plants are poisonous or not

favourite animal is the platypus because he finds the fact that they are egg-laying mammals interesting

owns three monitors. has a tablet (owned this tablet since he was a kid) and a phone

horrible at packing! he's always thinking about worst case scenarios and possible hypotheticals that could occur during his travels, causing him to overpack and not use half of the things he brings. he mentions that this was the case when he went to america with wxs, and he struggled with the same problem when he was trying to pack for his kyoto trip in pandemonium

his favourite show he performed with wxs was the little mermaid. the show that made him feel the most nervous was a pianist named torpe, and the show that left the strongest impression on him was the one tsukasa performed with the others to convince him to join wxs again

dislikes cleaning because he finds it pointless when his room just becomes cluttered again sooner or later

worst sleep schedule known to man. has been scolded by wxs for coming to rehearsal with horrible eye bags

he people watches a lot. very observant of his environment and uses anything that catches his attention as inspiration for shows and other stories. this can be seen in island panic, where he makes up an entire possible conversation between three monkeys he was observing and in the area convo where he views students fighting to buy bread at the tuck shop as a metaphor for human nature and survival

his role model and inspiration is a director named tom gray! he watched interviews of him and read his books over and over

enjoyer of sci-fi

eats his taiyaki by first splitting it in half to avoid burning his mouth with the hot bean paste. interestingly enough, it is said in japan that the first bite you take in taiyaki determines your personality. rui breaks his taiyaki first before eating, making him a "person of action."

he deepened his interest for shows as a kid by imagining how he would adapt his favourite books into stage productions

there's a specific stool in his room that has remained since his childhood. also an orange box of toys(?) It seems

on the other hand, several aspects of his childhood room have changed: his lampshades are in the shapes of flowers now, his couch is patched up in blue, and he has multiple streamers and balloons. the balloons have little faces on them btw. he also installed a clock. the step ladder near his bookshelf is gone too from what i can see

ok that's all i can think of from the top of my head, hopefully none of these are incorrect,, i'll be very sad if something is wrong. if you know any fun rui facts that aren't listed above PLEASE enlighten me

[gyuaesp]

i’ll always look out for you.

pairing: bf!mingyu x gf!reader

wc: 1,026

genres: romance (finally), angst, established relationship, reader is celebrating birthday, not extremely proofread, mingyu helping you through your emotions.

warnings: mentions of family issues (not in full detail), reader has a breakdown.

a/n: okkkk so this is like finally a writing that doesn’t include sad, heartbreaking, gut wrenching love… this one is a bit longer than my usual writes but i hope i did well on this one huhu :’))

it was your birthday. the day you (kind of) dreaded but was looking forward to.

instead of rotting inside your bedroom with an ice cream cake and a glass of champagne, you’ve decided that this year you’re going to be spending it with the people you love most. ever since you (finally) made it official with mingyu, you suddenly had a new perspective on life.

you didn’t care about the wrinkles, nor the gray hairs that might appear once in a while. getting old is a natural human phenomenon, it happens to everyone.

you invited a couple people over, not wanting it to be something huge and awkward. of course mingyu was the first one to arrive, helping you put up decorations with small kisses every minute or so.

he was a bit hypnotized by the outfit you were wearing. small apologies come out of his mouth every time you catch him staring like a creep, but what’s not to love about that? you have this man wrapped around your finger. the kim mingyu can’t help but drool at your beauty.

your friends came later than expected. a decent guest list consisting of joshua, seungkwan, chan, and soonyoung. you were distracted with karaoke while mingyu stayed back preparing your cake. he took glances at you singing duets with the others, chuckling softly at your performance.

you got quite tired out, trailing off into the cupboard for a water break. the glass in your hand getting set down on the island as you stood next to mingyu. “what’re you doing?”

he exhaled, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “just taking out the cake,” he spoke, giving you a peck on the cheek as his arm wrapped around your waist. “it looks okay, right?” mingyu’s eyes peeked back at the baked good hoping to hear a positive response.

“it looks perfect, baby. what do you mean!” you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. mingyu couldn’t help but give you his fanged grin at your reaction.

as his lips were leaning in for a connection, you heard a series of knocks on your apartment door. mingyu’s gaze moved to the entrance with slight confusion. “did you invite someone else?”

you scanned the living room, counting out the correct number of guests. “i don’t think so,” your voice replied. “i’ll be back.”

“careful,” he called out as you left for the door.

cautiously, you walk towards the threshold.“who’s there?” you speak out of the small opening you made.

suddenly, your breath hitched at the realization.

it was your mother. the woman you purposely took out of your life for making you feel miserable at home. the real reason why you moved out and decided to make yourself a new beginning.

“there’s my pretty lady!” she pushed the door open, dropping her bag and putting her hands on your shoulders.

you could see through her fake persona. the memories you thought you had gotten rid of crashing back into your mind like a tsunami. how the feel of her presence in the room made you tense up. the stench of her perfume bringing back the pain you supposedly healed from.

you could hear the others whispering as seungkwan paused the music. sound waves slowly becoming muffled as mingyu quickly went up to see the situation.

you could see his mouth moving as he spoke with your mother, but you couldn’t hear anything. a wave of emotions enter your body as you speed walk to your bedroom, unable to face her for any longer without breaking down.

it feels like you were brought back to square one.

your optimism fading off as you curled up in your closet. the place where you shed all your tears in the past. the enclosed room making you feel at peace once again as your heart tried to calm itself down.

your hands, feeling your pulse and constantly massaging your neck. small hyperventilations coming out your mouth as you looked around, listing out things in your closet to not freak out.

you could hear the incomprehensible noise of mingyu trying to talk things out with your mother monster from outside.

well, that was until he burst into your room when everything quieted down.

mingyu slowly peeked inside after a couple minutes of searching.

“____?” he calls out quietly, seeing your face buried in your knees. the sound of your sobs being the only thing audible in the area.

he moved towards you, kneeling in front of you. “baby, look at me,” his hand patted your knee. your gaze went to his, eyes glossy with tears. small sniffs coming out as your breathing slowed down at the sight of mingyu. “come on, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you like this.”

you moved into a proper sitting position to get some fresh air. he patted his lap for you to lay your head, allowing you to rest a bit. both of you sat in silence as he gently dried your face with his shirt, now stained with tears but he didn’t care. “stop your tears. i took care of it, alright? don’t be sad over a small inconvenience.”

you sniffed a bit, gathering your words before speaking. “i don’t understand why she had to ruin my day like this.”

“she didn’t ruin it,” mingyu quickly replied. “you just think that because you’re afraid, honey.” he set a soft kiss on your forehead before his fingers started to massage your temples.

“listen to me,” his hands cupped your cheeks. “she might’ve done things to you in the past, but you will grow. you’ll grow to become the woman your mother couldn’t.”

“i can’t even look at her without freezing up, mingyu-”

“just trust me,” his words cut you off. “i’ve seen what you’ve achieved in life and i believe you can do this too.”

you two sat in silence as you savored his words. “i hate how you always give the best advice.”

“that’s why i’m perfect for you, hun.” mingyu gives you a gentle kiss, taking away the rest of your sadness.

“now go blow your nose. let’s celebrate what’s really important.”

[ed-recoverry]

List of free audiobooks on YouTube for anyone interested

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

Alice in Wonderland

Animal Farm by George Orwell

The Shadow Over Innsmouth by H P Lovecraft

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

The Village by Caroline Mitchell

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (fuck JKR)

Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer

Upside Down by Danielle Steel

The Fiancée by Kate White

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Theif

Accidentally Married by Victoria E. Lieske

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

The Collector (book one) by Nora Roberts

The Lies I Told by Mary Burton

Dead Man’s Mirror by Agatha Christie

The Hobbit

The Taken Ones by Jess Lourey

The Good Neighbour by R J Parker

The Island House by Elana Johnson

Desperation by Stephan King

The Healing Summer by Heather B. Moore

The Last Affair by Margot Hunt

To Be Claimed by Willow Winter

Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

The Inn by James Patterson

Wonder by R J Palacio

Faking It With The Billionaire by Willow Fox

The Lost Years by Mary Higgins Clark

Forrest Gump by Winston Groom

The Janson Directive by Robert Ludlum

The Catcher in the Rye

The Lottery Winner by Mary Higgins Clark

Where Eagles Dare by Alistair MacLean

Death of a Nurse by M C Beaton

Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Sonnets by William Shakespeare

Frozen Betrayal by Clive Cussler

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Line of Fire by R J Patterson

Don’t Believe Everything You Think by Joseph Nguyen

The Remnant by Tim LaHaye

The Magic of Reality by Richard Dawkins

The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie

Payment in Kind by J A Jance

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The Way of the Superior Man by David Deida

The Game of Life and How to Play It by Florence Scovel Shinn

The Richest Man in Babylon by George S. Clason

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

A Marriage of Anything but Convenience by Victorine E. Lieske

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The Inheritance Game by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life

Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie

The Kama Sutra by Mallanaga Vatsyayana

The Wisdom of Father Brown by G K Chesterton

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

Robin Hood by J Walker McSpadden

The Poor Traveller by Charles Dickens

Days on the Road: Crossing the Plains in 1865 by Sarah Raymond Herndon

Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

Atomic Habits by James Clear

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream

Trading in the Zone by Mark Douglas

The Art of War by Sun Tzu

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson

The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

The Epic of Gilgamesh

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

Man After Man

Five on a Treasure Island by Enid Blyton

The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane

Charlotte’s Web

Midsummer Mysteries by Agatha Christie

Out of Silent Planet by C S Lewis

The Valley of Fear by Arthur Conan Doyle

Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton

The Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie

The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole

21 Lessons for the 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harai

Hamlet by Shakespeare

[viking-raider]

Cake & Minis - Cotton Candy Fluff

Summary-> It's just you and Henry for his birthday. But that's all right, the two of you have cake and Warhammer Minis.

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count-> 1.1k

Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Nerdy Banter

Inspiration-> It's Henry's 41st Birthday! Happy Birthday, Puppy!

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“So, Birthday Boy, what do you want to do for your birthday?” You asked, as you sat at the kitchen table with Henry, sipping your cup of tea, while he sat across from you, browsing the Highlander Script.

“I don’t know, babe.” He frowned, brow creasing at the page he was on. “Most of my family won’t be able to come in for any sort of celebration until next week. So, it’s just you and me.” He said, setting the script aside. “We could go out somewhere, have dinner.”

You studied him, holding his gaze. “You don’t want to though, do you?” You asked, voicing the glint you saw in his blue eyes.

“Not really.” He confessed, chewing on his lip.

Something came to you. “I might have an idea.” You said, excusing yourself and went upstairs, retrieving the gift you’d gotten Henry for his forty-first trip around the sun. “Why don’t you go ahead and open that.” You suggested, handing over the wrapped box and taking up your seat again.

Henry carefully removed the wrapping paper and a grin instantly touched his lips. “The new Blood Angels Minis.” He chuckled, opening the box to examine the little gray pieces.

“I could start your birthday cake and we could assemble those bad boys.” You suggested, pressing your lips together, while cocking your head at him.

“You want to spend my birthday painting Warhammer Minis with me?” He asked, quite skeptical.

“Yeah, if you want to, that is?” You replied, wide eyed. “I could leave you to your own devices with them. It was just a suggestion, I’ll do anything you want for your day, Puppy.”

A soft smile touched his face. “I’d love to spend my birthday assembling and painting minis with you. Especially if there’s cake eating involved.” He laughed, touched that you would express an interest in one of his hobbies, even for a day or few hours.

“It’s a deal then!” You beamed, excited. “I’ll get everything for your cake going, why don’t you get everything for the Mini building set up, then I’ll join you!”

“Sounds like a plan.” Henry nodded, taking up the Minis and headed for his man cave, where he had a whole station for building and painting his Minis.

Henry hummed happily to himself, bustling about the room, pulling out plastic containers, zip-lock bags and cases of items that contained glue, tools, paints and brushes of all kinds to cut out the pieces, assemble and paint them. He meticulously laid everything out, ready for the two of you to start the long process of building the six Blood Angel figures. Once that was done, he joined you in the kitchen.

“All ready.” He smiled, finding you in the process of mixing the red velvet batter; his favorite cake. “Do you want any help?” He asked, moving around the island to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Nope.” You replied, shaking your head, slightly resting back against him. “You just mind yourself and I’ll bake this.” You told him, rocking side to side with him.

“Do I get to lick the spoon?” He smirked, nuzzling the side of your face.

“Mmm, I suppose so.” You answered, filling the cake pan with the batter, before holding the spoon up for him.

“Mmm.” Henry hummed, flicking his tongue out over the back of the utensil, collecting the rich-red batter. “Tasty, can’t wait to have a slice.”

“I’m sure.” You smiled, wiggling out of his arms to slide the dish into the pre-heated oven. “Mini building time!” You beamed, setting the timer and placing it on the island. “Let’s go, my God Emperor.”

“As you wish, my little Primarch.” Henry laughed, heading for his man cave with you. “I’m sure you’ll end up painting one of them to look like Chaplain Rafael.”

“Burn the Heretic! Kill the Mutant! Purge the Unclean!” You declared, quoting your beloved Chaplain from the Blood Angels Space Marines chapter. “I still mourn your death, Rafael! Baal will remember you forever!”

Henry snorted, shaking his head at you. “What a nerd.” He teased, sitting down at the table.

“And unashamed of it!” You replied proudly. “Right, where are we starting, Puppy?” You asked, looking over the laid out items.

“We need to free the little buggers.” He told you, picking up a pair of, what looked like, well used nail clippers. “These are sprue cutters.” He explained to you, picking up one of the templates of Blood Angels. “All you have to do is snip this little bit here and set the piece aside, once it’s free.” He smiled over at you, brows lifted to make sure you understood.

“Super easy.” You smiled back at him.

Henry laughed, shaking his head and held the cutters out to you with a template. “It’s the only easy part in building these things. Other than buying them.” He quipped, grabbing a second pair.

The two of you took your time freeing the Space Marines from their confines, enjoying being close to each other and the sunny day that trickled through the tall windows around the room. When the cake timer went off in the kitchen, you shuttled off to check on it, pulling it out and setting it up to cool, before returning.

“So, are we going for authentic original Blood Angel look for their paint or are we going freestyle?” You asked, the tip of your tongue pressed to the corner of your upper lip as you used the sharp edge of an exacto knife to smooth out the edges of where the piece had been attached to the template.

“Hmm.” Henry hummed, sitting back in his seat, doing the same task. “I do normally prefer the traditional look for them.” He said, studying the arm he had between his fingers. “How about this? You paint three of the six your way and I’ll paint the other six my way?” He suggested, a little smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth.

“Oooh.” You cooed, liking that idea. “You sure your perfectionism isn’t going to drive you nuts?”

“I’m sure.” He assured you. “I looked forward to it. Our little army.”

It was long and tedious work, but neither of you cared, especially not Henry. It filled him with a bubbly happiness to look across his Warhammer table to see you zoned in on gluing together a model, shifting its little body until you finally got it in the pose that satisfied you. You paused long enough at one point, to put the icing on his cake, slicing you both a piece and bringing it back to your work station, singing happy birthday to him.

“I hope your new trip around the sun is as memorable, healthy and successful as your previous.” You toasted him, placing a tender kiss to his curls as he blew out the candle you lit.

“As long as I have you and Kal on the journey with me,” Henry replied, pulling you into his lap. “I know it will be.” He smiled, kissing you on the lips.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here we have a home that demonstrates how stark white walls don't mean that a house can't be colorful. Why, however, they painted all the exterior brick blue, I don't understand. Anyway, the 1991 contemporary home, located in Pauma Valley, California, has 3bd, 3.5ba and is listed for $1.15M.

Enter an open "foyer." The front door is painted purple inside. Love that.

Immediately to the right is a big bright living room with a contemporary fireplace. I think that the colorful chimney is wallpaper, there's a blue square painted on the wall with an orange door to the left that matches the Mona Lisa art.

Also in the living room is a recessed wet bar.

The open concept living/dining room features a custom made conversation pit. I'm disappointed that the furnishings don't seem to be included. But, I guess there's enough color for the buyers to put their own stamp on it.

Look at the tile column that appears to be made of Legos. The stairs and seats in the pit are made of concrete, so all that's needed are some cushions.

Brightly striped wall in the dining room has a neon sign that says, "Steak Me Home Tonight." I wonder if it conveys.

The spacious powder room has pink toilet paper roll wallpaper.

The kitchen has white cabinetry and features a blue island, but accessories provide pops of color.

In the family room, a floor-to-ceiling fireplace looks funky with raised geometric shapes painted gray. I suppose that you can repaint it, if you want. Light blue shelving and cabinets provide the color in the room.

Purple carpeting in the primary bedroom. I see what they were trying to do with the bed, but it's just not bright enough.

I prefer this bedroom with the mural and geometric shapes.

Check out the bright yellow wall of cabinets in the home office. That desk would be easy to duplicate.

Colorful wallpaper and doors.

The basement is a blank canvas.

This home is located in a country club.

Nice entrance to the driveway, but I think it would look classier if they hadn't painted the bricks.

Path to the front door looks nice.

The kidney-shaped pool kinda looks heart-shaped, too. A privacy wall surrounds the property.

They didn't show it, but there's a sun room or conservatory in the back.

Unusual elevated yard area has a ladder to get to it.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/15759-Pauma-Valley-Dr_Pauma-Valley_CA_92061_M28257-29025