#and what book smells like....... no reason................

[goblinontour]

Playground Love

principles and piercings

warnings: dad!alex, fluff, talking, that’s it, the kid is mentioned but not present

word count: 4.9k

The sound of the door seemed to echo through the empty house, punctuating your frustration. You slammed it behind you, exhaling a rough, irritated breath. “Fuck.” The word left your lips in a low groan, half-lost in the rumble of thunder that chased you inside. The rain hadn’t just soaked you – it had become a cold, unyielding second skin, seeping through your sweater, tracing icy rivulets down your neck and arms. Each drop felt like a reminder of his refusal to leave the house this morning, his insistence that you go instead. All because he insisted on playing his brooding poet routine. Stuck inside like a house cat that could no longer bear the sun, playing reclusive vampire. As if the world outside these walls had become foreign, too bright, too sharp for him to tread.

The sky was a dense shade of grey, heavy with clouds that looked like bruises on the horizon. The air had smelled thick and metallic, almost electric, as if the storm carried something more ominous in its folds. And yet, he’d chosen to stay here, curled up in his warm little corner, lost in whatever book had captured his interest this time, entirely detached from the reality you had to walk through alone.

As you shrugged off your drenched coat, it landed with a damp, resigned thud on the hallway bench. The boots took more effort, sticky from mud and pooling rainwater, but you tugged them off and let them drop, watching as small puddles began to spread across the floor. Normally, you’d tidy it up, make sure the mess didn’t creep into the house. Today, you let it lie there, like a silent reminder of what you’d endured.

You made your way through the silent house, feeling the warmth of it slowly seep into your bones. And that’s when you spotted him, his little mop of hair barely visible above the couch cushions, the tips messy and almost comically unkempt, contrasting with the stillness of the room. He sat in his typical lounging position, legs tucked under him, shoulders hunched slightly, a small crease on his forehead as he concentrated on the words in front of him. His headphones were big, cocooning him in sound, book in one hand, and a cup of tea cradled in the other, the soft tendrils of steam curling up like wisps of smoke.

You could tell from the slight furrow in his brow and the relaxed set of his jaw that he was somewhere else entirely, lost in a place he always retreated to. He hadn’t noticed you – he never did, not when he was like this. You watched as he flipped a page, moving as if in a trance, his thumb tracing the corner of the book’s edge in a habitual, absent-minded way, like the very act of reading was a ritual for him.

You stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, half-amused, half-annoyed. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it, you thought, a mantra fighting against the urge that was rising within you. But his hair looked so irresistibly soft, so inviting, and that little voice inside you – the one that always wanted to shake him out of his dreamy, unreachable state – was louder today. He’d been distant for days now, and this simple, innocent moment of solitude felt almost selfish, given the morning you’d had.

He deserved a jolt back to reality, you reasoned. A reminder that you were still here, dripping wet from the storm he had refused to brave.

You let your hand hover just above his head, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him, to see the finer details of the little dark waves framing his face. And then, with a quick, almost mischievous swipe, you tangled your fingers in his hair, giving it a deliberate tousle.

Perfect. Just enough to pull him out of his own head.

The reaction was immediate. He tensed, his whole body freezing for a split second before he jerked just enough to spill a splash of tea over his fingers. He whipped around, tugging off his headphones with a startled look, his eyes meeting yours, filled with a mix of surprise and irritation that slowly shifted to something softer when he saw your dripping clothes, the slight smirk on your face.

“Really?” he murmured, the ghost of a smile flickering at the corner of his lips.

“Really.” you replied, letting the word hang in the air, as if daring him to argue.

He looked down at his tea-stained hand, holding it up with an exaggerated sigh as if the sticky mess were some grand tragedy. His fingers curled, studying the small streaks that glistened against his skin, almost contemplative. He opened his mouth, maybe to complain, maybe to tease, but you cut him off.

“You could’ve done the school run.” you said, your tone light but laced with an unmistakable edge. “It’s just rain, not lava.”

He looked back at you, his eyes widening a fraction, a bemused expression flickering across his face as he processed your words. “I hate the rain.” he said, the statement soft, almost gentle, as if reminding you of something you’d forgotten about himself.

You shrugged, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from the lingering dampness that still clung to your skin. “I hate a lot of things too.” you replied, though your voice softened as you watched him. “But I went anyway. Because she wanted someone to walk her in.”

He seemed to take that in, letting it settle in the silence between you, his gaze dropping to his tea-stained hand, then back to you, the smallest trace of guilt flashing across his face. You reached out, took his cup, and wrapped your chilled hands around its warmth. He watched as you took a long, slow sip, savouring the taste of the drink you hadn’t even made, letting the warmth seep into you while his eyes lingered on you with something like quiet regret.

The storm outside raged on, thunder rumbling low, but in here, in this small, still room, everything seemed to slow down. The two of you sat there, tangled in a shared silence, an unspoken understanding hanging heavy between you both. The rain might still be falling, but here, wrapped in his gaze and the faint aroma of tea and damp wool, you almost felt warm again.

Without a second thought, you sank down onto the couch beside him, invading his space, still damp and dripping. He could feel the cold fabric of your clothes sticking to his leg, but he didn’t move. If anything, he seemed to settle deeper into the cushions, unfazed, watching you with that quiet, stubborn gaze of his. The book, the well-worn Nabokov novel he’d been pouring over for days, slipped from his hand and came to rest on the coffee table, forgotten in favour of this small exchange.

He didn’t say a word as he reached for you, his hands curling around your ankle. With a practised focus, he began pulling off your damp socks, his fingers deft but gentle, peeling the fabric away like it was some chore he’d taken upon himself long ago. His thumb brushed the arch of your foot, lingering just enough to send a warm spark up your leg. You knew what he was doing, you could feel the unspoken offer in his touch. You’d come back from the rain, chilled and annoyed, and he would be the antidote to all of it, the warmth to counter your cold.

“Despair?” you asked, nodding at the worn paperback now lying on the table.

“Yeah.” he replied without opening his eyes, pressing his thumb deeper into the soft skin of your foot, working out the tension that had gathered there from the cold walk.

“Again?” you asked, with a bemused little smile. You’d watched him read Despair more times than you could count, seen the way he lingered over certain passages as if trying to unlock some hidden truth buried in the sentences.

“Well, it seems so, doesn’t it?” He looked up, a sly glint in his eyes as he took in your expression, the corners of his mouth quirking into the barest hint of a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “You gonna go through with it this time?”

“What? My own murder?” His smirk widened.

“I could do it for you, you know.” you said, feigning an air of indifference. “You couldn’t even get your kid to kindergarten – I doubt you’re qualified for something as ambitious as self-sabotage.”

He scoffed, but you saw the amusement flicker across his face. “Probably not.” he muttered, his voice dropping to something softer, almost pensive. “I’d mess that one up too.”

His hand shifted, his fingers pressing insistently into the sole of your foot, kneading, coaxing the tension out of you with a subtle, possessive touch. He watched as you shifted under his hands, his gaze steady, challenging. And as his fingers pressed, you pushed back, just enough to test his patience, to feel the resistance in his grip. His eyes darkened, a silent warning in his gaze.

But why would you listen to him?

You pressed harder, a slow, playful pressure against his hand, and he raised an eyebrow. He tightened his grip, his thumb digging in with renewed insistence, letting you feel the full weight of his focus as he worked, as if he could undo more than just the aches in your body, as if he could unearth something deeper in you, something he knew you were holding back.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting across your cheek as he murmured, “You think you could manage it?”

“What, getting rid of you?” you asked, your tone light, though you could feel the intensity thickening the air between you, wrapping around you like the rain-soaked clothes clinging to your skin.

He tilted his head, his lips curving in that knowing way of his, a slow, calculating smile as his gaze travelled over your face, settling somewhere just beyond your eyes. “Well,” he said softly, “you seem pretty adept at destruction. Thought I’d be spared for a bit.”

His thumb pressed deeper into the arch, his eyes flicking up to watch your reaction, to see if you’d break first, if you’d turn away or push back again. But you held his gaze, the words catching somewhere in your throat, held there.

“That so?” you said, tilting your head as you watched him, your voice low, as if you were offering him something far more dangerous than he was ready for. 

In the dim light of the sitting room, shadows played across his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw, the unruly hair that fell across his brow, the softness that lingered at the edges of his mouth even as his eyes held that impenetrable gaze. You could feel it gathering, the way the air seemed to hold its breath between you, as if it were waiting for one of you to give in.

But he held steady too, unwavering. He let his hand drift up, his fingers brushing your ankle with a gentle insistence that made you want to shiver. “You don’t want to be in charge of my destruction.” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You like having something to fight against.”

“Oh, do I?” you countered, feeling the pull, feeling the tension draw you closer to him, like a thread strung taut between you both, waiting to snap.

He leaned back, his gaze unreadable, but his hand remained on you, warm and grounding, as if he could keep you tethered to him. “Yeah.” he murmured, a smile just brushing his lips, like he was sharing a private joke with himself. “You love the fight.”

He closed his eyes again, pressing his thumb in one last time, a lingering pressure that seemed to say he knew you better than you’d ever admit, that he saw the dark, hidden corners you tried to keep from him. You felt it – the quiet ache that simmered between you both, like an unhealed bruise, tender and waiting for the next touch.

“So…Poppy-” you began, voice careful, trying to ease into what you wanted to say. The words were still a half-formed thought in your mind, and you were searching for a way to soften them, to bring them up without triggering one of his spiralling, introspective rants that would turn a simple conversation into a storm.

But he interrupted before you’d even figured out how to say it. “What? Did she want me to walk her?” He said it with that same, quiet self-reproach, already trying to shoulder a blame that hadn’t even been cast. That was the way he worked – always a little too ready to bear the weight, to assume that he’d fallen short.

You let out a sigh, more exasperated at the rain than at him. “No, you’re fine, Al.” Your hand slid over his, prying it gently from your foot, which he had clutched a little too tightly. His fingers held on tight before finally releasing, almost reluctant to let go. You pulled your leg back, shuffled into the corner of the couch, and leaned into it, letting your back slump down, finally allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of it. Your feet came up onto the coffee table, as if claiming that little space for yourself, unguarded and tired.

You patted the cushion beside you, a soft, wordless command. “Sit.”

And he did, moving closer, his gaze subdued, that obedient feline quality settling back over him, turning him soft and pliable as he folded himself to rest his head in your lap. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling rather than meeting your own, though you knew he could feel the quiet gravity in your touch, the way your fingers began moving through his hair, each pass aimed towards calming him. The warmth began to seep into your skin, radiating from him, taking the last chill of the rain from your bones.

He lay still, his face turned upward, shadows pooling beneath his eyes as he stared with an intensity that seemed directed at something only he could see. His voice, when it came, was soft, raw, like he was sharing something fragile, something he wasn’t sure you’d want to hear. “I got better, right?” His tone was almost tentative, like he needed the words to land softly, like he was testing their truth. “I know I was…pretty bad at this when she was littler. And I had that whole…thing.”

He trailed off, but you knew exactly what he meant. Those times he’d tried so hard to keep hidden, when the house had felt more like a place you both haunted than lived in. The times when his silences had grown so deep, you worried they might swallow him whole. But he’d pulled through – though not without scars, not without shadows that still lingered.

“And I think…I think I was depressed.” he continued, his voice almost a whisper, as if naming it gave it too much power, as if he could scare it off by speaking it quietly. “But I don’t think I am anymore. I’m better, aren’t I?”

You nodded, letting the gentle motion of your hand convey your answer. You could feel his breath shift, his body relax as he let himself trust in the rhythm of your touch, let himself believe in what he couldn’t see from his place in your lap. “But I just- sometimes I feel like I need a break, you know? Like I need to step back, just for a moment, so I can keep being…better.” He sighed, and it sounded almost like a confession. “I’m sorry you had to go through the rain and everything. I should’ve gone. I’ll take her tomorrow, I promise.”

He promised.

The words hung between you, solid and steady, a commitment you could feel resonating through his voice, through the weight of his head in your lap, through the way his hand drifted to rest on your knee as if he needed something to hold him there. And you knew he meant it, even if you could also feel the fragility in his words, that lingering hesitation, the quiet plea beneath the promise. He was asking you to trust him again, to…believe. In this version of himself, the one that was still trying to figure out how to hold the weight of all the things he’d once tried to escape from.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. Your fingers continued their slow rhythm, threading through his hair, smoothing it, grounding him, answering his unspoken question with each gentle stroke.

The storm outside had settled to a quiet murmur, the rain drumming softly against the window panes. He reached up, his hand curling around yours, guiding it down to his chest, holding it there like he needed you to feel his heartbeat, the steady proof of his presence, of the life he was still fighting for, day by day. The pulse thrummed beneath your fingers, warm and steady and real.

His eyes drifted closed under the weight of his quiet admission. You felt something ease inside you too, some small place that had held itself closed for too long. Maybe you didn’t need words all the time. 

“She wants to get her ears pierced.” you said, finally finishing the thought that had been lingering. You’d been wondering how to say it without sparking one of his reactions, but as soon as the words left your mouth, his head snapped toward you, his face already set with that familiar, stubborn frown.

“No.” he replied flatly, as if the answer were obvious and non-negotiable.

You blinked, not sure whether to laugh or protest. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” you asked, voice edging with challenge, but you could tell by the set of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed that he was digging his heels in. 

“My say is no.” he repeated, his voice low and unyielding, like that was all there was to it. You could tell he was ready to defend his stance, even if he hadn’t thought it through entirely.

Your hand stilled in his hair, and you saw his mouth twitch in offence as he noticed the sudden absence of your touch. “Why’d you stop?” he muttered, almost wounded.

“Maybe my say is yes,” you shot back, leaning into him slightly, challenging him with a small smirk. 

“Well, I don’t want her to.” he answered, sitting up properly now, his full attention at play. His eyes were serious, like he’d decided to double down rather than let this slide.

“You sound like my father.” you retorted, the words slipping out before you’d fully realised what you were saying. The expression on his face faltered for a moment, and he looked almost chastened, but then his defences rose again.

“Oh, come on, don’t say that.” He rolled his eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh, though you could tell he didn’t want to come across as unreasonable.

You relaxed back into the couch, giving him a softer look. “She saw mine this morning, you know? She was looking at my nose and asked what it was, and she said she wants pretty earrings in her ears, like some of the girls in her class.” You could still picture Poppy’s face as she’d gazed up at you with wide eyes, all that wonder and excitement. It had surprised you, the way she’d connected that small detail to something she wanted to experience herself.

“I thought you took that out?” he asked, his voice softening as he leaned closer to you, his hand finding its way back to your knee, thumb rubbing circles into the bone. “I always loved your septum ring.”

“I did take it out, but it didn’t close up. This morning, I just thought I’d try, and it went in easily. I’ve been wearing it up-”

“You should wear it again.” he interrupted, his tone softer, and you caught a hint of that wistfulness he never let show. “The silver ring. The thin one. That was my favourite.” 

You shook your head, trying to deflect his sentiment even as you felt yourself soften. “I don’t care what your favourite was.”

“Oh, really?” he said, smiling with that hint of mischief, the edge of his mouth quivering as he tilted his head to look at you, challenging you in his own quiet way. He shifted, closing the space between you, and his gaze held you, pulling you in like it always did, no matter how many times you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let him win. 

“Okay.” he murmured, as if conceding, but his smile stayed. And as you slid back into the couch, he moved easily, resting his head in your lap again, his body finding its way back to that comfortable position as if he’d never left. His hand came to rest over your knee, anchoring himself there, his eyes glinting with amusement as they drifted back to your nose. 

“I can see it now.” he teased, his voice low and playful as his hand drifted upward, his fingers reaching closer to your nose.

You leaned back, feigning exasperation, though you couldn’t quite hide your smile. “Don’t stick your fingers up my nose, Alex.” you warned, but the laughter was already threatening to break through.

He chuckled, eyes glimmering with that irrepressible mischief. “Oh, come on.” he said, brushing your hand away with a playful insistence. “I think I’ve stuck myself up enough places inside you for this to not be a problem, babe.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but he was faster, his fingers brushing against your nose, nudging the ring down so it was visible. The small, silver balls glinted beneath your nose, a sudden reminder of a version of you he hadn’t seen in a while.

“There it is.” he whispered, his eyes soft as he took you in, his thumb brushing lightly over the silver ring as if rediscovering something precious. Then a glint of mischief flashed across his face, and he grinned. “Hehe, two little balls hanging…looks familiar.”

You rolled your eyes, amused, exasperated. “Oh my god, Alex. You are so mature.” But you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, warmth spreading through you as you tried – and failed – to keep a straight face.

He reached up, brushing his thumb over the bridge of your nose. You felt yourself melt slightly as he tilted his head, studying you with those eyes that somehow managed to see past everything.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost shy in a way that felt rare, “you look more like you, with this. Like the you I fell in love with.” His eyes traced your face, lingering over every familiar line and curve. You could feel his hand warm on your leg. “I mean, not that you aren’t you now, but…I don’t know, you look like you’re a little more…alive.”

You felt a flush creeping into your cheeks, not entirely sure what to say. But the honesty in his face held you there, kept you from pulling away as his fingers brushed over the small silver ring again. You reached out, brushing your fingers along his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. His eyes closed for a moment, savouring the simple contact, and when they opened again, there was a softness there, a vulnerability that he kept hidden from the world but shared with you in quiet moments like these.

“Maybe,” you said softly, fingers still resting against his cheek, “Poppy just wants to feel a little more like herself too. Maybe that’s what this is really about.” You watched him take in your words, saw the faint flicker of realisation cross his face as he thought it over.

He leaned his head back, his eyes gazing up at you with a quiet acceptance, like he was finally willing to meet you halfway. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, holding you there with him, not pushing or pulling, just resting.

“Maybe…” he murmured, unsteady, as if he was still letting it sink in. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin. “I just don’t want her to be in pain.” he mumbled, his voice softer now, almost as if he were talking to himself rather than you. His eyes flicked to your nose, and then away again. There was something distant in him, reluctant and protective, like he was working through the idea in real-time.

He finally looked back up at you. “Does it hurt?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice, as if he were asking for the first time.

“A little.” you admitted, feeling the gentle throb where the ring rested, a reminder of the time it took to heal, of all the small aches that came with wanting something and sticking with it. “But I think she can take it. She’s a big girl now.”

He nodded slowly, but his lips pressed into a thin line, reluctant to fully agree. “Mhm…” he murmured.

You tilted your head, raising a brow. “What?”

“Nothing. Just…nothing.” He tried to brush it off, but you caught the way his gaze drifted, a small crease forming between his brows. He looked like he was holding back, wrestling with some unspoken worry.

You waited, giving him space, until he finally let out a soft sigh, his shoulders sinking as he leaned back against the couch. “I know she’s growing up. And I know you think I’m being...old-fashioned, or whatever.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I just– she’s so small. So…I don’t know…I don’t want her to be hurt. Or regret it later.”

A slight smile tugged at your lips, and you brushed a strand of hair out of his face. “You realise that’s why they make the small, safe starter studs, right? It’s not like she’s going to get a septum piercing or go full rock and roll in kindergarten. It’s just earrings, Alex.”

He gave you a sheepish, lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. It’s just…she saw your ring, and suddenly I could see her all grown up, making her own choices, and it just hit me. Feels like I just blinked, and now she’s already asking for things I don’t know how to give her.”

You took his hand, feeling his fingers relax under yours as you squeezed gently. “She’s going to be okay, you know. She’s smart. And stubborn – she’s got that from you." 

“Hey.” he scoffed, pretending to be offended, but his smirk betrayed him. “I’m not stubborn. I just have strong…principles.”

“Right. Principles.” you echoed with a grin, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I think maybe the real problem here is you’re just not ready for her to need things from someone else besides us. She’s growing up, Alex. And it’s going to hurt a little – for all of us. But she’s brave, and we’ve done a good job with her.”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands rubbing his face. “I guess…I guess I don’t want to mess it up, you know? She’s…she’s so full of life, and I don’t want her to lose that because of something I say or do.” He looked at you, his eyes soft and uncertain. “I want her to feel like she can be herself. Even if I don't get it, or even if it's something I never would’ve done.”

You nodded, brushing his hair back, letting him feel that you were there. “Then let her be herself. Earrings or no earrings, she’ll still look at you like her hero. The way she always does.”

He smiled at that, a little shy, a little boyish. “You think so?”

“I know so.” you replied, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, watching his face soften as you did. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, you just sat there.

After a beat, he let out a chuckle, low and soft. “Fine. She can get the damn earrings.” he muttered, a reluctant smile creeping onto his face. “But I’m holding her hand the entire time. And I’m not leaving her side, even if it takes all day.”

“Deal.” you replied, your own smile mirroring his. “And afterward, we’ll let her pick out whatever sparkly, obnoxious earrings she wants. Even if they clash with her clothes for a month.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Perfect. And I’ll make sure to tell her how much of a trendsetter she is.” His tone softened, and he took your hand again, holding it tightly. “Thanks for…everything. And for reminding me. It’s easy to forget sometimes, but…I trust you, you know?"

You gave him a gentle smile, squeezing his hand. “Good. Because no matter how big she gets, we’re in this together. For every scraped knee and every new little piercing.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. And there, with his breath mingling with yours, he murmured, “Our little girl. She’s gonna be amazing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” you whispered back, certainty settling back over you both. “She already is.”

a/n: pretty boring I guess...but I like it! got the idea from these requests x & x. also I feel like I was channeling @futuristicanoe in this. idk. their fic has been on my mind a lot these days and it seeped into this.

[malereadermaniac]

Totally non-toxic behaviour ~ Ex!Dabi x Male Reader

Reader who's just a smidge toxic towards his ex - but it's like fine! m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI Word count: 884

Dabi asking for his hoodies that he'd left with you back, only for you to try every trick in the book to make him think about you~

For one of the jaded man's sweatshirts, you decided to sleep in it for a week and spray your signature perfume on it. The second Dabi grabbed the black top from you, he took it to his nose and immediately gave you a chilling stare; he didn't voice any complaints though, just gave a brief 'thanks' and left. What you don't know is that the scarred man huffed on that thing all the way back to his place, and didn't wash it for literal weeks; he would just smell it whenever he felt that empty feeling in his chest which you used to fill for him.

When Dabi texted you about another hoodie of his, he did mention that "You coulda washed it before giving it back" - guessing that your smell made him miss you a bit too hard... So that time, of course you had the decency to wash the damn thing..... it was just that you'd accidentally spilt some of your body wash in with your fabric softener; so not only did your ex's hoodie smell like your clothes, but also you.

Another time, you decided to try make the cold man jealous by handing him the wrong clothing and saying "oops... not yours?". That one really set him off. In the moment, Dabi laughed it off and went and found the pair of sweats he was actually looking for, but GOD DAMN did this man go crazy on his way home. We're talking talking to himself in the car, extreme road rage for absolutely no real reason, and conducting a deep social media stalk on you to try n find out who's fucking sweats you tried to give him!

Your break-up wasn't exactly civil, but you and Dabi both agreed that you needed to end things or you two would just keep being bad for each other. Don't get it twisted, when it was good, it was incredible - you and Dabi were seemed like the perfect boyfriends, just simply in love. The taller man would always pamper you and was like a puppy around you (with an attitude but he'd listen to you nonetheless). Dabi was happier than ever when he was around you, you filled that hole in his chest, you were the missing piece to him. It's just that Dabi would get insanely possessive over you because you meant so incredibly much towards him - and we're talking not being allowed to go out with friends without him, literally getting into fights with other guys who were close with you and much, much more. And you yourself weren't innocent either! You would flirt with people to get attention from Dabi if he had been more frigid that day, and you were partial to a little guilt tripping if it meant getting what you wanted... But breaking up because of the bad definitely didn't negate the good - so you two are stuck being apart, whilst still being fucking in love with each other!

Dabi still having notifications on for whenever you post a story, because he was so down bad for you that he wanted to always be the first to see you stories (and sometimes approve them....). But his already cold blood runs colder when he sees that you've posted a selfie with some muscular, tatted arm around your shoulders as you lay your head on whoever this guy is. Dabi must've rewatched that single story of your at least fifty times, just staring, internally screaming, trying to figure out whose FUCKING ARM THAT IS. And of course, it's just you trying to make the man jealous (and it working). Good thing your friend from childhood was visiting, cause he made the perfect fake soft-launch!

Light stalking is another one of your tactics when trying to occupy Dabi's thoughts (and succeeding). It's never anything crazy! Just showing up at parties he's at and making sure that he notices you - which is usually done by openly flirting with guys at said party. Sometimes, if you're bold (and drunk) enough, you will just straight up flirt with Dabi's friends - never if he's with them in that moment, but always when he will notice. And it works like a CHARM! It does help that all of Dabi's friends find you hot as fuck, they're willing to risk getting their heads burnt off if it means getting to hit it from the back yk! They always start off with a coy "Dabi wouldn't be very happy to see me talkin' 'ta you" but they never mean it. And holy shit is it a sight from horny heaven to see Dabi walk over to you once he notices you antics; his taller, muscular frame looming over you and whoever your flirting with, his arms folded to show off his muscles even more, his eyes narrow and burning a hole into your own. Whenever you push enough of his buttons, Dabi will almost always fold, and he's not proud of it! The man just can't help it, he knows it's bad but he just loves waking up in your bed the next morning~

[vickytaa]

Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter I

summery: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?

"‘Hey honey, can you give me a hand with this?’ Y/n heard her mom’s voice from a distance. Seventeen-year-old Y/n had moved to Boston with her mom after her dad passed away, and they were still unpacking boxes. She’d lived her whole life in LA, but her mom had decided to start over, so they’d had to move. ‘Coming,’ Y/n replied, quickly putting her headphones back on. She wore them all the time, for reasons only she knew; she listened to all kinds of music, knew all the lyrics by heart from listening to them over and over. She loved everything from Romeo Santos to Billie Eilish, and even 2Pac or Bob Marley—basically anything.

After a couple of hours of unpacking, Y/n finally managed to grab a book from her bookshelf, ‘When the Cherry Blossoms Bloom’ by Liliana Cinetto. She climbed into her new, cold bed, turned on her bedside lamp, and put on some jazz. It had been a long day: saying goodbye to family, moving into the new house, unpacking, packing her school bag for the first day—the list went on.

Later that night, Y/n and her mom had dinner—a cold pizza—and talked about what her life would be like now that it was just the two of them. Her dad’s passing had been tragic but expected, given his terminal illness. Y/n avoided talking about him, preferring to keep her mind occupied with other things, like how her first day at a new high school would be. It was going to be tough, sure, but as long as she stayed out of trouble, passed her classes, and kept a low profile, everything would be fine. But it would be nice to have a friend, right? At her old school, she had been well-behaved and got along with everyone, but no one well enough to call a friend. It would be difficult, but she didn’t really care anymore if she made friends or not."

Y/n fell asleep with her headphones on, but her mom woke her up to say goodnight. This had happened before, so her mom simply took the headphones and set them on the nightstand. She sat down next to Y/n and looked at her for a while. Y/n was beautiful, with long, silky hair and porcelain skin, just like her dad. Her mom gently brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and kissed her forehead. She knew that Y/n was hurting inside, even more than she was, because Y/n and her dad had been inseparable.

The next morning, Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and the delicious smell of food coming from the kitchen. Her mom loved to cook, and her food was always amazing. Y/n got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, passing by the bathroom, the laundry room, the living room, the guest room, basically everywhere. "Mmm, that smells delicious," she said as she reached the kitchen. "Good morning, sweetheart. Are you ready for your first day?" her mom asked, turning around to see Y/n leaning against the doorframe. Y/n didn't react well to the question. "Yeah, can't wait to meet new people," she said sarcastically, forcing a smile. Her mom rolled her eyes and gave her a serious look. "Come on, Y/n. You're going to do great. You're smart, you're kind, and you're beautiful. Everyone will love you." Y/n chuckled and left the kitchen to get ready.

Y/n kept repeating to herself, "You're going to be fine." She put on a pair of black sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a gray sweatshirt that matched her headphones. She tied her hair up in a messy bun, leaving a few strands loose. She put on her perfume and went to the dining room, where her mom had breakfast ready.

After breakfast, Y/n grabbed her backpack and left for school. The school was close by, so she arrived on time. As she walked into the school, she noticed that there were several groups of friends, all of them seemed very close. Making friends was going to be difficult, and joining one of those groups seemed impossible.

Y/n went to her locker, put away a few things, and then headed to her first class. She preferred to stay under the radar and listen to her music. But as soon as she walked into the classroom, the teacher made her introduce herself to the class.

"Oh, Y/n, right?" Ms. Amy asked. She had a sweet voice and was wearing a long white dress. Y/n nodded, not knowing what was about to happen. "Class, please welcome our new classmate!" Ms. Amy said loudly. Y/n's face turned bright red. She had never been so embarrassed. She simply smiled at her classmates and walked to the first empty seat.

When Matt saw Y/n, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful, with her flawless skin and silky hair. He noticed that her cheeks were red, and it made her even more adorable.

Matt wasn't very popular in class. He had a few friends, but not many. He was a sweet and kind boy, and he was a triplet. His brothers were Chris and Nick. Matt was the quieter of the three.

Ms. Amy started her lesson as usual, and Y/n paid attention, kind of. She had her headphones on, so she was really in her own world. Matt, on the other hand, couldn't focus on all; all he could think about was when Y/n had walked into the room. He was lost in thought until Chris snapped him back to reality. "Hey, you okay, man?" Chris asked. It was unusual for Matt to be so distracted, since he was usually pretty studious. "Yeah, sorry, I was just... thinking about the new girl," Matt replied, looking over at Chris. "Oh, now it makes sense," Chris said, rolling his eyes and playfully punching Matt on the arm. "Cut it out, I was just thinking maybe she's lonely and doesn't know anyone." Chris chuckled. "Why don't you go talk to her?" he suggested. Matt's eyes widened. "Why don't you go?" he asked. "Because you brought her up," Chris replied. "What are you guys talking about?" Nick interrupted. "Matt's got a crush on the new girl," Chris announced. Matt quickly covered Chris's mouth to shush him. "No, I'm just trying to be nice!" Nick looked at him skeptically. "Sure, you are," he said. "I'll go ask her if she wants to hang out with us," Nick offered. "Hey, what about me?" Anna asked. She had been friends with the triplets since they were little, but she was closest to Nick. "The new girl," Nick replied. "Oh, yeah, she's pretty. I get good vibes from her," Anna said. "Oh, you and your vibes," Chris teased. They all laughed except for Anna. "You know, you should really—" "Hey, quiet down back there!" Ms. Amy called out.

The boys quieted down and focused on the lesson. Y/n, oblivious to the attention she was getting, continued to draw in her notebook and tap her foot to the beat of her music.

When the other classes ended, Y/n really wanted to leave. Not having anyone to talk to was a problem she would probably have to get used to in the future, but right now she would rather be doing other things, like helping her mom finish unpacking. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn't just leave school like that.

At lunchtime, Y/n had considered her options for eating alone. She could sit at a table in the cafeteria, but she knew it was impossible to find one empty. She could eat in the bathroom, but that seemed unsanitary and dramatic. She could go to the library, but she didn't know where it was and didn't want to ask for directions. Finally, she decided on the sports field. She found a spot under a tree, far enough away from the playing fields to avoid getting hit by a ball.

As she finished eating, she realized she had some time to kill before her next class. She pulled out her book and started reading. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up to see a boy and a girl standing in front of her.

"Hi, I'm Nick, and this is Anna," the boy said. "We saw you sitting here alone, and we wanted to say hi."

Y/n was surprised, but she smiled and introduced herself. They talked for a while, and Y/n realized that they were pretty cool. She was starting to feel a little less lonely. And she felt her heart fill with happiness as she talked to them, even though it was just a brief moment.

When it was time for her next class, Y/n said goodbye to Nick and Anna. As she walked away, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe making friends at her new school wouldn't be so hard after all.

At the end of the last class, Y/n headed to her locker and heard their voices. "Hey Y/n, see you tomorrow," Nick said. When Y/n turned around to reply, she realized there were more of them. "Oh, sure. I didn't know you had brothers," she said, confused. They looked identical; she only knew Nick because she had spoken to him and his clothes were the same as earlier. "We're triplets. This is Chris," he said, pointing to Chris who smiled, "And this is Matt," he pointed to Matt, who looked a little embarrassed, his red cheeks giving him away. "Hi, I'm Y/n, nice to meet you," she greeted them. "See you tomorrow," Y/n said, smiling at all three of them. Matt swore that if he opened his mouth, he would burst with butterflies, his heart was pounding so hard.

The walk home was short, but all Y/n could think about was Matt. She didn't know him very well yet, they hadn't really talked, so it was hard to say what he was like, but she could tell he was special. The way he looked at her with his bright smile, his blue eyes that seemed to see right through her, and the way his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink every time he looked at her, it was endearing. She knew he was going to be important, but she didn't know how."‘Hey honey, can you give me a hand with this?’ Y/n heard her mom’s voice from a distance. Seventeen-year-old Y/n had moved to Boston with her mom after her dad passed away, and they were still unpacking boxes. She’d lived her whole life in LA, but her mom had decided to start over, so they’d had to move. ‘Coming,’ Y/n replied, quickly putting her headphones back on. She wore them all the time, for reasons only she knew; she listened to all kinds of music, knew all the lyrics by heart from listening to them over and over. She loved everything from Romeo Santos to Billie Eilish, and even 2Pac or Bob Marley—basically anything.

After a couple of hours of unpacking, Y/n finally managed to grab a book from her bookshelf, ‘When the Cherry Blossoms Bloom’ by Liliana Cinetto. She climbed into her new, cold bed, turned on her bedside lamp, and put on some jazz. It had been a long day: saying goodbye to family, moving into the new house, unpacking, packing her school bag for the first day—the list went on.

Later that night, Y/n and her mom had dinner—a cold pizza—and talked about what her life would be like now that it was just the two of them. Her dad’s passing had been tragic but expected, given his terminal illness. Y/n avoided talking about him, preferring to keep her mind occupied with other things, like how her first day at a new high school would be. It was going to be tough, sure, but as long as she stayed out of trouble, passed her classes, and kept a low profile, everything would be fine. But it would be nice to have a friend, right? At her old school, she had been well-behaved and got along with everyone, but no one well enough to call a friend. It would be difficult, but she didn’t really care anymore if she made friends or not."

Y/n fell asleep with her headphones on, but her mom woke her up to say goodnight. This had happened before, so her mom simply took the headphones and set them on the nightstand. She sat down next to Y/n and looked at her for a while. Y/n was beautiful, with long, silky hair and porcelain skin, just like her dad. Her mom gently brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and kissed her forehead. She knew that Y/n was hurting inside, even more than she was, because Y/n and her dad had been inseparable.

The next morning, Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and the delicious smell of food coming from the kitchen. Her mom loved to cook, and her food was always amazing. Y/n got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, passing by the bathroom, the laundry room, the living room, the guest room, basically everywhere. "Mmm, that smells delicious," she said as she reached the kitchen. "Good morning, sweetheart. Are you ready for your first day?" her mom asked, turning around to see Y/n leaning against the doorframe. Y/n didn't react well to the question. "Yeah, can't wait to meet new people," she said sarcastically, forcing a smile. Her mom rolled her eyes and gave her a serious look. "Come on, Y/n. You're going to do great. You're smart, you're kind, and you're beautiful. Everyone will love you." Y/n chuckled and left the kitchen to get ready.

Y/n kept repeating to herself, "You're going to be fine." She put on a pair of black sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a gray sweatshirt that matched her headphones. She tied her hair up in a messy bun, leaving a few strands loose. She put on her perfume and went to the dining room, where her mom had breakfast ready.

After breakfast, Y/n grabbed her backpack and left for school. The school was close by, so she arrived on time. As she walked into the school, she noticed that there were several groups of friends, all of them seemed very close. Making friends was going to be difficult, and joining one of those groups seemed impossible.

Y/n went to her locker, put away a few things, and then headed to her first class. She preferred to stay under the radar and listen to her music. But as soon as she walked into the classroom, the teacher made her introduce herself to the class.

"Oh, Y/n, right?" Ms. Amy asked. She had a sweet voice and was wearing a long white dress. Y/n nodded, not knowing what was about to happen. "Class, please welcome our new classmate!" Ms. Amy said loudly. Y/n's face turned bright red. She had never been so embarrassed. She simply smiled at her classmates and walked to the first empty seat.

When Matt saw Y/n, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful, with her flawless skin and silky hair. He noticed that her cheeks were red, and it made her even more adorable.

Matt wasn't very popular in class. He had a few friends, but not many. He was a sweet and kind boy, and he was a triplet. His brothers were Chris and Nick. Matt was the quieter of the three.

Ms. Amy started her lesson as usual, and Y/n paid attention, kind of. She had her headphones on, so she was really in her own world. Matt, on the other hand, couldn't focus on all; all he could think about was when Y/n had walked into the room. He was lost in thought until Chris snapped him back to reality. "Hey, you okay, man?" Chris asked. It was unusual for Matt to be so distracted, since he was usually pretty studious. "Yeah, sorry, I was just... thinking about the new girl," Matt replied, looking over at Chris. "Oh, now it makes sense," Chris said, rolling his eyes and playfully punching Matt on the arm. "Cut it out, I was just thinking maybe she's lonely and doesn't know anyone." Chris chuckled. "Why don't you go talk to her?" he suggested. Matt's eyes widened. "Why don't you go?" he asked. "Because you brought her up," Chris replied. "What are you guys talking about?" Nick interrupted. "Matt's got a crush on the new girl," Chris announced. Matt quickly covered Chris's mouth to shush him. "No, I'm just trying to be nice!" Nick looked at him skeptically. "Sure, you are," he said. "I'll go ask her if she wants to hang out with us," Nick offered. "Hey, what about me?" Anna asked. She had been friends with the triplets since they were little, but she was closest to Nick. "The new girl," Nick replied. "Oh, yeah, she's pretty. I get good vibes from her," Anna said. "Oh, you and your vibes," Chris teased. They all laughed except for Anna. "You know, you should really—" "Hey, quiet down back there!" Ms. Amy called out.

The boys quieted down and focused on the lesson. Y/n, oblivious to the attention she was getting, continued to draw in her notebook and tap her foot to the beat of her music.

When the other classes ended, Y/n really wanted to leave. Not having anyone to talk to was a problem she would probably have to get used to in the future, but right now she would rather be doing other things, like helping her mom finish unpacking. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn't just leave school like that.

At lunchtime, Y/n had considered her options for eating alone. She could sit at a table in the cafeteria, but she knew it was impossible to find one empty. She could eat in the bathroom, but that seemed unsanitary and dramatic. She could go to the library, but she didn't know where it was and didn't want to ask for directions. Finally, she decided on the sports field. She found a spot under a tree, far enough away from the playing fields to avoid getting hit by a ball.

As she finished eating, she realized she had some time to kill before her next class. She pulled out her book and started reading. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up to see a boy and a girl standing in front of her.

"Hi, I'm Nick, and this is Anna," the boy said. "We saw you sitting here alone, and we wanted to say hi."

Y/n was surprised, but she smiled and introduced herself. They talked for a while, and Y/n realized that they were pretty cool. She was starting to feel a little less lonely. And she felt her heart fill with happiness as she talked to them, even though it was just a brief moment.

When it was time for her next class, Y/n said goodbye to Nick and Anna. As she walked away, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe making friends at her new school wouldn't be so hard after all.

At the end of the last class, Y/n headed to her locker and heard their voices. "Hey Y/n, see you tomorrow," Nick said. When Y/n turned around to reply, she realized there were more of them. "Oh, sure. I didn't know you had brothers," she said, confused. They looked identical; she only knew Nick because she had spoken to him and his clothes were the same as earlier. "We're triplets. This is Chris," he said, pointing to Chris who smiled, "And this is Matt," he pointed to Matt, who looked a little embarrassed, his red cheeks giving him away. "Hi, I'm Y/n, nice to meet you," she greeted them. "See you tomorrow," Y/n said, smiling at all three of them. Matt swore that if he opened his mouth, he would burst with butterflies, his heart was pounding so hard.

The walk home was short, but all Y/n could think about was Matt. She didn't know him very well yet, they hadn't really talked, so it was hard to say what he was like, but she could tell he was special. The way he looked at her with his bright smile, his blue eyes that seemed to see right through her, and the way his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink every time he looked at her, it was endearing. She knew he was going to be important, but she didn't know how.

a/n: First chapter, what will happen on the next one?? I am very happy to do this. Love ya:))

[tkwrites]

Okay I'm done now and heading to bed, one last question.

Can you name a favourite fic for each of the boys?

Hi my Lovely,

There are quite a few of your asks I haven't answered, but please know I'm not ignoring them. They'll just take a little more time to respond to.

I can tell you my favorite fics, though:

Matthew Tkachuk - Back To You because it's such a complete story. I love the way he and Jessie meet, lose each other, and then are thrown together by fate again. I also feel like I really captured that sassy side of Matthew's personality in this fic, which I was really worried about at the time I was writing it. This is also the story that I think would be easiest to flesh out into a full length novel.

Nico Hischier - I love all the parts of his story for different reasons, but I think It Doesn't Matter Part II is my favorite. I had actually written the whole sequence of nude sketches for another character, but ended up scrapping the whole story because I couldn't find any real conflict for them to resolve. When I realized I could use it for Nico and Lena if she was an artist, I was thrilled and got to work rewriting it for them. In the end, the only things that stayed the same were 5 of the 6 poses. Getting into and out of them changed, as did the characters relating to each other during them. I love all the longing and awkward tension between them in this piece, as well as how they finally end up confessing their love for each other. Finally, the culmination of all of their longing into the final sex scene? Chefs kiss.

Quinn Hughes - This one is so hard. I've written so much about Quinn and Sarah and I love all of the pieces for one reason or another. If I had to pick three favorites, they would be:

1). Five Days of Joy because I'm so proud of this fic. It took SO long to write, but I love the way it turned out. I love that we go through so many consecutive days and such a gamut of emotions with Sarah and Quinn.

2). The Second Time is Better because I love the portrayal of a more real first time. One of the things that drives me batty about romance novels is how the characters get together and always seem to have this instantly amazing sexual connection. No room for human failing or first time jitters. In reality, it takes time to build sexual chemistry and connection, and I went into this piece wanting to show at least some of that.

and 3). Second Nature because I think it has the prettiest prose. I still think this passage is some of the best writing I've ever done:

This was ultimate flirting in Quinn’s book. Something he knew he could do. When someone wanted to talk about music, or art or classic cars, he was a fish out of water. But talking hockey? He could do that all day long. Convincing someone to like the sport he loved so much? There wasn't a more ideal situation. 

“Oh, good,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him. 

This was a perfect evening. Casual and comfortable. Cooking for someone he - liked, and kissing her whenever he wanted, taking no worry of who might be watching. 

Letting himself get swept up in the kiss, he slid his hands over her hips and tried to commit her scent to memory. No matter what happened - though he was pretty sure nothing bad was ever going to happen with Sarah - he wanted to remember this. She smelled like a dream he’d had as a boy. Like vanilla and warm skin and fireside, summer nights. It was an outlandish notion, but he couldn’t shake it. 

All her life, Sarah had read stories about star-crossed, fated lovers thrown together by chance and circumstance and serendipity. But those were all just stories. Even when her grandpa talked about meeting her grandma - like they were always meant to be together, and just had to find each other to make it happen - it seemed like folklore. A tall tale he spun to make their love story seem more epic. 

After writing all this out, I realized perhaps you meant favorite writing from other authors. Let me know if that's something you'd like me to answer.

[stormyelliotwritez]

heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy :> issame, mango

so I need our big ol boyfriend logan reading his writer!boyfriend's newest book and-

what is this?

there's a big, broad-shouldered, muscular man coming in sweaty, huffing from a workout- and just- trapping his boyfriend against the wall in a heated kiss, making sure his boyfriend's out of breath (and smelling just like him, I like territorial guys okie GAHAHHA)

guess who's gonna recreate it with the author himself :>

hehehehehehehehehehe yeah, i can do that, hubby! i hope ya like it!

BOOKS IN REAL LIFE

Logan loved reading your books. He always felt an extra connection to you when he did so here he was reading your newest one. It had been pretty calm. There was some drama and someone almost died and now the main character was at home, leaning against the wall for some reason.

He read a bit further and a smirk appeared on his face. So that’s why he’s up against the wall. He reread it but this time out loud.

“He stands against the wall, not waiting for anything, just existing. Loud footsteps are heard. If he wasn’t in his own home, he’d be scared. Out of the dark doorway, his big boyfriend steps out. He walks over to him and crowds him against the wall.”

Logan chuckled. Obviously his little boyfriend wants something in real life. He started reading again.

“His boyfriend is dripping with sweat and as he looks at him, he’s overwhelmed with feelings about how his boyfriend looks like a greek god. His shoulders are broad and his muscles just look so good. His boyfriend leans down and traps him in a kiss. If it was any other man, he’d be protesting but this is the love of his life and the man he trusts.”

Logan chuckled and shook his head. You really wanted something from him. He continued reading but this time, he found himself imagining it was you.

“His breath was taken away by this masterpiece of a man. His hands were locked in his against the wall and all he could smell was him. He felt him sniff the air and then grunt. Of course, he could smell the butcher. He didn’t go there for that kinda meat though.”

Logan chuckled and listened out for you. He’d go annoy you once he was finished reading. Only a bit more to go.

“He could hardly breathe, but it was so worth it. He smelled like him now and all he could taste was him, his sweat.”

Logan put the book down and smirked. He knew you like when he kissed you like that but he didn’t know you liked it enough to write about it.

He walked out of the room and listened for you. You were in the kitchen and now you were in the… living room. He wandered that way and poked his head in. There you were, leaning against the wall which is right where he wanted you.

He walked over with a smirk and trapped you against the wall. One hand was next to your waist and the other next to your head. He chuckled and leaned in.

“Someone wrote a very intense fantasy in their latest book,” he said lowly, his breath tickling your face.

You blushed and smiled. “And you liked it?”

“Bubs, I always like them,” he smiled before his lips crashed into yours.

One hand moved to your hair and pulled at it and the other held your waist against the wall. The kiss was intense. It took your breath away just like in your book. He pressed his body against you, trying to replace the smell of the big city with his. It was working because he was all you could smell.

You always forgot how he was so much bigger than you until he had you up against a wall, covered fully by him. You knew that was right where you should be, where you were meant to be.

His hand was in your hair, combing through it, and he moaned into your mouth. He pulled back for a moment and smiled.

“Gonna make all your writings come true, pretty boy,” he said quietly.

Before you could say anything, his lips were back on yours. You could hardly breathe but you weren’t complaining. You’d be in his arms, day in and day out if you could. You two were made for each other. You fit together like two puzzle pieces.

All you could smell was him. He smelt of motorbike fuel, that laundry detergent he loved and your little garden. That’s all you wanted to smell forever. All you could see was him, his big brown eyes and his hot beard. All you could feel was his cracked lips on yours and his beard brushing against your face.

He kissed you until he heard you gasping for breath and then he pulled away. He looked you over once, your face red and your palms sweaty. He smirked and grabbed your hand. He pulled you away to you twos bedroom, that small smirk of his promising more.

This was all you’d ever dreamed of, all you ever wrote about. Everything was perfect and you loved it.

[readerstories]

Our Alpha - Poolverine x male reader

Someone was talking about A/B/O on my dash, and for some reason my brain took it, ran away with it, and came back with this fic. (AO3)

Warnings/tags: a/b/o dynamics, male reader, porn without much plot, anal, fingering, oral, knotting, friends to lovers

Wordcount: 4935

Summary: Wade and Logan accidentally trigger on of you ruts. Fuckery ensues. (Reader is about the same height as Logan and Wade, has hair, and is clean shaven. Age wise he has had ruts for more than a decade.)

When you first met Logan, you had been surprised that he’s not an alpha. All about him screams alpha, the posturing, caring, the strength. But, after Wade had explained to you that Logan came from a universe where alphas, betas, and omegas are not a thing at all, it made a lot more sense. He’s just Logan, not anything else.

Logan is a great addition to your friend group, even though he takes up a spot you had wanted for a good while, that being the one of Wade’s partner. You have known Wade for years, and he had always been in love with Vanessa, even when they had broken up. So you had long since settled for just being near Wade, and now near Wade and Logan.

Sometimes you will have movie nights over at their apartment, just the three of you. It’s almost a sweet kind of torture, being so close to them with no on else around, but you will take what you can get in just about any context.

Which is why you find yourself in front of their apartment door, ringing the doorbell, bag of snacks in hand.

When Wade opens the door, you are about to greet him like usual, but the words die on your tongue as the smell hits you.

Wade’s blood. Logan’s blood. The lingering scent of sex. Sex between Wade and Logan.

It’s not like you have never smelt any of these scents before, but they’ve never hit you all at once, and so FRESH. 

They’ve clearly just come back from a job, Wade is still in a torn up suit without his mask on, Logan much the same as he steps next to Wade since he’s still just holding the door open.

“You okay?” Wade asks, worry on his face.

Your mind has stopped working, all you can clearly hear is the blood rushing in your ears. All you can feel is your gut stirring alongside your cock.

Fuck, you are going into a rut. 

Your first unplanned one in about a decade.

FUCK.

“I- I- I’m sorry!” You drop the bag and turn on your heel, booking it down the hallway. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you need to get home and fucking deal with this.

How fucking embarrasing.

—---

You get home and change immediately, only putting on a loose set of pants and a t-shirt. You’ll want the clothes off soon enough, but for now you keep them on as you pace you living room, cursing yourself for being sent into a rut by your fucking crushes. You are too old for that kind of shit. You have more control than that.

Your doorbell rings. You ignore it. 

There’s hard knocks on your door. You ignore it. 

Your door is kicked in, this you can’t ignore, finding yourself on your feet in seconds. 

You growl, feeling your canines grow as the sound spills from your open mouth. Your mouth snaps shut as Wade steps into your apartment. He has changed, he’s now wearing some grey sweatpants, sneakers, and a red hoodie. 

But he clearly hasn’t showered, because he still smells like blood and sex, which is making your head swim. Logan is much the same as he follows just behind Wade, a black flannel instead of a hoodie covering his torso. He closes the door behind them both, leaning back against it, keeping some distance while Wade stands just a few steps away from you.

Omega, beta, omega, beta, protect, fuck, scent. Your rut-brain not very helpfully screams.

“You can’t go running like that and not make us think something is super wrong.” The scent of them both is maddening, and it’s only growing thicker with every second they spend it in your apartment. You swallow, clenching your hands at your sides, ignoring the urge to drag the omega Wade closer.

“Nothing is wrong.” You grit out between clenched teeth.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Speaking of pants, you are glad you are wearing loose ones, so at least your hard cock isn’t as obvious as it feels. What is obvious however, is the scent of a rut rolling off you in waves. You wonder how Wade hasn’t noticed it yet as he keeps looking at you, for once showing that he can be patient, waiting for you to speak. 

Logan notices though, taking a few deep sniffs, then pushes off the door. Your eyes snap to him, but he doesn’t return the look, grabbing Wade’s shoulder, making him look at Logan too.

“Wade, what is that smell?” He asks Wade, and your face burns. Of course Logan hasn’t actually smelt a rut before, but with his heightened senses he picks up that something has changed. 

“What?” The skin where Wade’s brows should be scrunches up before he takes a few deep breaths.

Then his head whips towards you, a grin spreading over his face and delight filling up his brown and beautiful eyes.

“Someone’s going into ~rut~" Wade almost sings as he keeps grinning. You are breathing heavily, though you stutter as Wade licks his lips, and all your mind supplies you with is how good they would feel on you. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever smelt that on you during the time we’ve known each other.” That had been on purpose, you always stayed away from Wade around your ruts, always able to find some excuse that never made him question it, at least not to your face. “What made that change?” Your eyes flicker between him and Logan, taking in how they are both paying full attention to you. It makes the alpha in you purr in satisfaction, you resist the urge to let the noise out, suppressing the urge to preen under their shared attention. Wade gasps, taking your looks and silence as an answer.

“Logan? Well done peanut, didn’t think you had it in you!” He turns around and squishes Logan’s face in his hands.  The shifting of their attention away from you to just each other almost makes you growl, but instead of a noise out of your mouth, you manage to find a few words.

“Both of you.” Wade’s head whips around again, and he grins.

“Ohhh, greedy little alpha.” This time you let out a growl. If he’s going to be an ass about this, you rather not have him near, even as much as all your instincts are screaming at you to grab them both and show them who the alpha is. Their alpha.

“Just leave.” The words feel wrong leaving your mouth, like ash covering your tongue when all you want to feel is the heat of the men in front of you. 

You blink slowly as Wade invades your personal space, throwing his arms around your neck, but he doesn’t touch anymore of your body. Your mind screams to grab his hips so you can have him fully against you, but the little self control you have left makes your arms stay at your side. His scent is strong this close, you want more of it, so you close your eyes, letting yourself at least have that. His smell is familiar to you, burnt sugar, leather, and gunpowder, all with an undercurrent of omega. Your omega.

He chuckles, fingers treading through the hair on the back of your neck.

“Come on, what would you rather do? Spend the next however many days stuck with just your own hands and a knotting fleshlight for company, or do you rather want two hot sets of hands and two hot bodies on you at all times?” Your eyes open to first look at Wade, then at Logan, who’s still standing a few steps away.

“Two? When did I get dragged into this?” He tilts his head, you see Wade grin in the corner of your eye as you and Logan look at each other.

“Like you haven’t looked and thought about it.” Logan shrugs just as a hand hooks itself under your chin, and your gaze is redirected back to Wade.

“So, what do you say?” You are not going to say anything, but you are definitely going to do something as the little control you had slips through your fingers. 

You grab Wade’s hips and pull him flush against you, swallowing the little noise he lets out as you press your lips against his. They are softer than you thought, if a little bumpier than other people that you’ve kissed before. Not that anyone else matters right now, as the hand in your hair tightens as you deepen the kiss, stealing breaths as your lips move against one another.

Your tongue brushes against his lips, asking for entry, which Wade gladly gives with a little noise you try to chase with your tongue. The inside of his mouth is soft and warm, an untouched part of his skin. Your fingers push his hoodie up just enough to feel the skin on his stomach and hips while your tongue dances with his, making him let out these little gasps you take in greedily.

Wade is the one that breaks the kisses, which you make a sound at that you will forever deny is a whimper, but at least it gives you the opportunity to kiss down the side of his neck instead as your fingers press into Wade’s bare hips.

“Come on peanut, your turn.” You lick over his neck as he speaks, feeling his pulse under your tongue. You see movement in the corner of your eye, which makes you look to the side, mouth still on Wade’s neck as you see Logan step closer.

Everything about him screams alpha to your brain, your mind not all there in the warmth of your rut. The growl starts low in your chest, which makes Logan raise an impressive brow where he now stands next to you and Wade.

“No, bad dog!” Wade slaps your chest, making you stop kissing his neck, directing your attention back to his face. The growl dies in your chest, but you huff at him. “Don’t you fucking start, just smell him.” Wade reaches out and grabs Logan, yanking him close, pressing him against the side of your bodies with just a small grunt of protest from Logan. Your eyes flicker between them, the alpha in you wanting to satisfy your omega, so you move just slightly, just enough that you can push your nose against Logan’s neck while keeping your hold on Wade.

You take a deep breath in, letting Logan’s scent wash over you. He smells like he always does, pine, tobacco, and coffee, but now with a delicious add-on of sweat, blood, Wade, and sex. A noise starts up in your chest again, but this time it’s a purr as you lick over the warm skin under your mouth, drinking in Logan’s scent and taste. He startles as the first touch of your tongue, but tilts his head to the side to give you more access, and a warm hand settles on your hip.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Wade mutters, the purr in your chest just deepens as he lets out a little laugh. “I’ve always called Logan kitty because of his hair, but all along it’s been you that's the kitty.” You lean back from Logan, replacing your mouth on his neck with a hand. You lean in to kiss Wade again, but is stopped by his hand over your mouth. Your purring stops as you look at him with confusion.

“As much as I will let you ravage me anywhere in the future, let's move this to a bed?” You do not like being stopped, but the word future and all its implications you do, so you must concede that the idea of soft sheets under you is a great one. 

So, you do the next logical step, letting go of them both so you can bend down and throw Wade over your shoulder. He yelps in surprise, but relaxes as you grab Logan’s hand and start to walk towards your bedroom.

“Great view from up here.” A hand grabs at your ass, which makes Logan snort behind you, and the alpha part of your brain happy with how you are doing well with your mates.

You throw Wade down on your bed, he settles after a little bounce, not having time to do anything else besides opening his legs as you crawl up onto the bed and settle between them. He grabs your hair and tries to pull you into a kiss, but your mouth descends on his neck instead.

“Oh, yeah, this was worth those many words of build up.” You roll your hips against him, your hard cock sliding deliciously against his quickly hardening one. The smart thing would have been to get both of your clothes off before getting into bed, but all you want is to be pressed close, no time for anything else. 

Wade doesn’t quite seem to agree though, as his hands push at your waistband. Your main focus is on his neck, tongue licking over his textured skin, tasting the slight salt of sweat mixed with Wade’s scent, and the sweet aroma of omega. Your omega.

“Come on honey badger, little help here?” The bed dips next to you, and then there’s a second set of hands pushing at your pants. They slide down easily until they hit the bend of your knees, which you are gently encouraged to lift, one at the time. Your mouth keeps working over Wade’s neck, over what you can reach while he has his hoodie on. You pull on the collar of it, a thought forming of trying to just rip it off him, but the thought is quickly gone as hands push at your chest. You growl, not wanting to take your mouth of Wade for even a second.

You are made to do so however, as you’re yanked back by the collar of your t-shirt, which is then quickly pulled over your head. You snarl at Logan, who just throws your t-shirt to the side and raises an unimpressed brow at you. The alpha in you craves control, so grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

He’s quick to return it, giving as good as he gets. Slightly chapped lips opening for you so willingly as your tongue presses against his lips, his own tongue meeting yours in a way that makes electricity zip down your spine. You feel your cock leak pre-cum, even though Logan’s hands are only on your shoulders. 

You keep his head still with your grip in his hair, licking into his mouth between deep breaths and scenting the air. Arousal rolls of him, making him smell stronger, and more and more right by the second.

You are just about to twist sound fully and push him onto his back so you can crawl over him, your hands moving to his still clothed chest ready to do so, but you are distracted by a textured hand grasping your cock. 

You break your kiss with Logan, looking down at Wade, who has during your kisses with Logan undressed fully. He’s hairless all over, all lean muscle rippling as he shifts. His legs are splayed open, his hard cock standing at attention, slick leaking slowly from between his thighs. His hand pumps your cock slowly, grinning as both of you look at him, and your mouth fills with drool as you take a few deep breaths to fill your nose with the scent of him too.

“Was starting to feel left out.” You let go of Logan, who immediately starts to unbutton his flannel as you fall back between Wade’s open legs. One of your hands slips down to his cock, giving it a few strokes, mirroring his hand on your cock. His hand not on your cock tugs at your hair, his knees pressing into the side of your hips.

“Hmmm, hey there alpha.” The title runs off Wade’s tongue so easily, it sounds so right, so your purr starts up again as you move your hand from his cock to between his legs where slick leaks out of him. His breath hitches as you slip two fingers into him, the digits sinking in with ease as he tilts his head back, putting his neck on display for you.

You lean in to kiss over it, letting teeth dance over the skin in a tease of a bite. He rocks down onto your hand as you slip a third finger inside, his hand around your cock tightening and making you grunt.

You need to get inside him soon, or this round might be over too quick for anyone's liking.

You pull your fingers out from Wade, turning your head as you hold them out towards Logan, who was just about to pull his pants off. He pauses, glances as Wade, before he looks at you. He then leans forwards as keeps eye contact with you, sliding your fingers into his mouth. He sucks and licks at your digits, tasting Wade on you, making you and Wade groan in unison. You from the tight feeling of his mouth around your fingers which makes you imagine it going elsewhere, Wade from how good Logan looks with his mouth occupied.

“Fucking hell peanut.” Logan grins, pulling off your fingers with an obscene pop. You lean on your elbows over Wade as you watch Logan take his pants off, leaving him fully nude too. He’s a lot hairier and bulkier than Wade, a beautiful contrast. He’s fully hard as well, kneeling next to you and Wade. One of his hands brushes over one of Wade’s legs where it’s pressed against your side. 

You turn your head back towards Wade, leaning down and rubbing your face over his neck and shoulders, purring again. His head shifts, and then there’s the sound of kissing above you. Your purr only stutters with a growl for a second before a solid hand joins Wade’s on your cock, and guides you against Wade’s hole. 

The hands fall away, and with a single thrust you are fully seated inside Wade, balls resting against him. You feel him gush around you as he moans loudly, hand in your hair tightening for a moment before it loosens.

“There you go alpha, come on.” Wade’s hands dance over your back as you lick over his neck. He’s so warm and wet around your cock, so perfect, like he was made for you. For the moment you just grind down against him, pressing him into the bed with your full weight. It traps his cock between the two of you, making him leak all over your stomachs. 

Your grinding doesn’t last for long however, as you pull your hips back so you can start fucking into Wade. Small movements at first, barely moving as you keep your mouth on his neck, sucking hickeys into textured skin that disappear in seconds. It irritates part of you that it won’t stay, but part of you also is happy with the neverending space to make new marks on him. 

Your head swirls with the thought of mate mate mate mate, arousal building with every second, making you speed up, and Wade moans loudly as you do so.

“Yes, yes, alpha” Wade's breath stutters at a particularly hard thrust. “Give me your knot.” You growl in satisfaction, hearing your omega beg while his hands grasps over your back is just how it should be.

“Knot?” Logan’s voice talks over Wade’s little moans and groans, and the wet sound of you filling Wade with your cock over and over again.

“Oh yeah, this is like a new sex ed for you. Rememb- AH, fuck -I told you, alpha’s has knots- shit, shit, shit- makes their dick swell and makes them stuck inside- Inside! Ah! -their partner. It’s an evolut~ion~ thing, to make it really have an opportunity to stick. I- I- I- can’t actually get kids, buT I don’t think that’s go-go-gonna stop our little greeeeeedy alpha here from try-ing!” Hearing Wade struggling to explain to Logan while you fuck him makes you grin against his skin. You shift up to kiss him, to steal his moans and grunts right out of his mouth. He clutches as you, knees pressing hard enough against your side that you are sure you are going to bruise your hips. You keep fucking into him, but push at one leg so he folds it up. Logan pushes at the other leg, making Wade fold in half underneath you. The two of you hold him in place as you pound into him, chasing your orgasm.

Another wet sound joins the cacophony of wonderful sounds in the room, which makes you stop kissing Wade and lean back a little. Wade keeps his eyes closed, and moans loudly and arches his back as soon as his lips are free. You look at Logan, who has the hand not on Wade around his own cock. You slow down your thrusts into Wade ever so minutely, making him whimper and open his eyes, looking at you first, then glancing at Logan. Wade whimpers again as you growl.

“Stop touching.” It’s the first words you’ve said during this whole thing, you don’t know if that is what makes Logan listen, or if it’s the scent of alpha you can feel rolling off you as your hips keep rolling into Wade. You know the scent is strong, especially for someone with his nose.

“Fucking hell, hot as hell, alpha, alpha!” Wade splutters, hole fluttering around your cock.

“Mine.” You growl, shifting so you can lean down and take Logan’s cock into your throat as you keep fucking into Wade. They moan in unison, making your head scream the word mine over and over and over again. Your head swims with arousal, the scent and taste of them pushing you closer and closer with each passing second.

Logan is heavy on your tongue, leaking precum as you swallow around him, tongue stroking over veins as you bob your head up and down.

Wade is moaning below you, clutching and pulling at you, each snap of your hips against him making him leak against his stomach.

Your own cock is leaking inside Wade, your precum mixing beautifully with his slick. You can feel that you’re close, so close. You need your mouth back on Wade, but you also need Logan in it. You groan around him, making your throat vibrate around his cock in your throat. One of your hands moves to grasp at his cock, pumping it as you suckle on his head.

A barely there graze of your teeth on your next suck is what sends him over the edge. His hands are in your hair, but he doesn’t push as you drink him down. 

Swallowing the last remnants of his cum, you shift your focus fully to Wade. Your hands push at his thighs, mouth going to his shoulder. This time it’s not a hickey you make, instead you mark him with your teeth as your canines grow and you bite down hard enough to taste blood. It explodes over your tongue, mixing with the taste of Logan’s cum in your mouth.

“ALPHA!” Wade yells as loudly as he comes all over your stomachs. It makes him tighten around you, and you feel your own orgasm coming. Your teeth let go of his shoulder, but you keep your mouth on him to lick over the quickly healing skin.

Your orgasm hits you hard, cum pumping into Wade with each move of your hips, which soon slows as you feel your knot expand, trapping you and Wade together. 

You catch your breath, panting against Wade’s neck, licking your lips as you take breaths, tasting the scent of sex in the air.

You start purring, rubbing your face against any part of Wade you can reach without jostling the two of you too much. He smells so much of you already, but you can’t help yourself. He lets out a breathless little laugh as he threads a hand through your hair, his other stroking over your back is slow motions.

“Good thing you’re clean shaven, or else I would have some serious beard burns.” You hum, feeling your brain turn a little clearer with every second that passes. You feel another hand join Wade’s on your back, and you look to your side, where Logan is sitting, legs stretched out and leaning on one hand while the other dances lightly over your sweaty skin. 

Mind a little bit more with you, you shift more onto your knees, and with some careful maneuvering, you manage to get you and Wade on your sides, your back pressing against one of Logan’s outstretched legs with Wade’s around your waist. The movement causes you both to let out a little moan, which makes you want to start purring again, but you don’t for the moment.

“How long will this last?” Logan asks from above you, hand moving from you back to your hair as Wade scratches both of his down your back now.

“My knot should go down in half an hour or so.” You lean forward to catch Wade’s lips in a brief kiss. “My ruts tend to last about three days.” You look up at Logan, eye flicking to his lips, which gets the message across. He leans down and places a light kiss on your lips. You can’t help the little content hum that slips out of you. Everyone is satisfied for the moment, and it’s really hard to not start purring again, but some part of you should actually try to talk a little now that you have your non-rut brain back for a little bit. But Wade beats you to it, of course.

“We are going to need to order so much takeaway, I’m guessing you don’t have a rut stash.” His hands knead into your shoulders, wonderful pressure that makes you sigh and close your eyes.

“I don’t, I wasn’t supposed to have another one for a few more months.” You feel your cheeks heat up at the admission, but should you really be embarrassed when this has been the outcome?

“Rut stash?” Another question from above you. Oh yeah, Logan doesn’t know this, though earlier it had sounded like Wade had at least tried to explain some aspects of all of this.

“Well, when one is fucking like rabbits, you use a lot of energy peanut, and that has to come from somewhere. A fuckton of food and water mostly.” Logan’s hand in your hair massages your scalp, between him and Wade’s motions you feel almost ready to fall asleep, so it’s with great effort that you open your eyes. You tilt your head back to look at Logan, licking your lips to gather your thoughts, somehow managing to stay focused even as Wade moves forward just enough to bury his nose against your throat.

“It’s normal to have a stash since ruts tend to be somewhat regular, just like heats, though they can be triggered. For example, an alpha’s omega going into heat.”

“Wade’s not in heat though?” Logan tilts his head and Wade chuckles against your skin.

“Which is why I thought it was you that triggered the rut first, but no, our alpha is just greedy.” Hearing Wade so casually and no longer in the moment referring to you as their alpha makes your heart beat faster, and your cock leak, which in turn makes Wade let out a little satisfied groan as he clenches down on your knot. Which makes you moan again.

“It’s like a feedback loop.” Logan mutters above you, looking down to where you are trapped inside Wade, and will be for a while.

“Better to do it from behind normally, easier to spoon.” Wade says, a little breathlessly as he clenches down on you with purpose, making you growl a warning. He chuckles, booping your nose.

Logan is still looking down at where you are joined, which Wade takes notice of with a grin. So he can’t help but tease.

“Think you could take it? You might need a little more prep but…” Wade lets the words hang in the air, making both you and Logan imagine it. 

Fuck, Logan on back or even on his knees, begging for your cock, begging for your knot? Knowing he would need more effort, more desperation? It makes your cock leak inside Wade, who’s breath hitches as he feels you, and then your breath hitches as you see Logan’s spent cock give a minute little twitch.

“Fuck, my beautiful little perverts.” Wade teases, making you roll your eyes, and Logan snorts out a little laugh.

“Pot calling the kettle.” Logan swats at Wade’s thigh, which makes him move, which in turn makes him clench around you again.

“Careful.” You grunt out, grabbing Logan’s hand. He grins down at you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

“No promises.” He lets go of your hand, you swat at his thigh in return.

“Go get us some water or something since we are stuck here. The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Logan rolls his eyes, but gets up anyway.

“Ohhh, that we can promise, pookie.” Wade grins, clenching around you on purpose again, making you grunt and Logan glance over his shoulder just before leaving the room.

You can hardly wait for whatever happens next.

[littlemissstel]

Soft-Play Love- Shiu Kong

You meet someone while taking your daughter to the softplay centre.

No use of (Y/n), Shiu and reader are both in their late 30s and have daughters, (D/n) = daughters name, "mummy"

dividers from @saradika-graphics

It had taken a month of begging from your daughter to finally take her to the soft play centre she loved oh so much. It wasn’t that you minded her being there—it was just that you knew the routine all too well: the first twenty minutes of her clinging to you , the next hour of boredom as you waited, then the inevitable meltdown when it was time to leave. Not to mention the sickness a few days later once the germs caught up with her, keeping her a grumpy mess for what seemed like an eternity. And like any other reasonable parent, you'd rather not deal with any of those things. If you'd been a bit younger when you had your babe, perhaps this wouldn't be so draining- but you weren't and it was.

Still, you couldn’t help but smile at her excited little face, knowing how much this meant to her- it was just a part of growing up, and so, begrudgingly, you spent your Saturday afternoon sat on a chipping, washed-out, squeaky chair; overstimulated by the merged sounds of high-pitched shrieks from feral children and smell of sickeningly sweet processed snacks. Truth be told, you hadn't seen your daughter for the last ten minutes - too engrossed in your book to acknowledge the passing time. The last few instances you had managed to catch sight of her she was accompanied by a young girl around the same age, who sported pigtails and a wide smile to show off the gleaming rows of wobbly teeth. It's not often she bothered at making friends so you were more than happy to let them be, but you figured it was time to warn her about leaving soon as the end of your session approached- knowing she would no doubt bring chaos in her wake.

"MUMMYYY!!" the all too familiar voice sounds from behind as she runs into view, her new found friend in hand.

"Me and Min-hee want ice cream!"

"Yes please!" the little girl added, her rosy cheeks squished in delight.

For a moment you considered saying no, but how could you? Not when two anticipating faces of faux angels looked up at you with such expectation.

"How about we ask Min-hee's parent if they are okay with it first?", you suggested, already reaching for your bag. "Then I’ll get you both some ice cream."

And in a blink the two girls were off, racing back into the chaos of the play area.

You figured that was the end of the conversation until they both reappeared, a tall and handsome man trailing after them with his gaze meeting yours. He seemed to be around your age, no older than forty which was rare to see and you perked up in interest. There were a few parents from your daughters year who were also in their late 30s but they were the least sociable of the cohort, either that or they had their biases about you being a single parent. It wasn't something you had ever foreseen. You and your then husband had been together for a long time beforehand and when your daughter had unexpectedly came you both saw it as a blessing. Though a few years after her arrival, fights began to frequently arise ; about his job, about household chores, about quality time, about trivial matters that never should've been a problem in the first place. You both tried to make it work but you had already drifted too far and- although not fully divorced- decided to separate. Now you both co-parent on good terms, though the unevenly split weeks still tend to be the subject of most disputes.

You stood up, snapped out of your daze, giving him a friendly smile, but for a moment, it felt like the words caught in your throat. It was one of those strange moments where the quiet between two strangers is just enough to make you second guess.

"Daddy! (D/n)'s mum wants to say something to you!"

"Oh—no, I just wanted to know if it’s alright for the girls to get ice cream," you blurted, suddenly feeling put on the spot, "I didn’t mean to drag you over here."

He smiled—an easy, small but genuine smile—and you felt a wave of relief. "It’s no problem. I don’t mind at all. Do you have a preference?", he asked, his voice deep, almost soothing.

"A preference?"

"Of ice cream flavor"

"Ah, no, thank you," you said, shaking your head. "I really don’t mind getting them myself." .

"It’s my treat," the tension between you both easing as he spoke.

"Then can I at least help you carry them back?"

"Of course", and he stepped aside, gesturing for you to follow him

The conversation was concluded by the badly hidden giggles of your girls who took turns whispering in each others ear. If you had to guess it would be D/n cracking poorly made jokes. If Shiu had to guess, his daughter would be up to something.

The table where the girls sat was right next to the restaurant so you had no qualms about leaving them for a few minutes as you followed Shiu into the queue.

"Do you come here often?" He starts, turning his body halfway to you. Each ray that streamed through the windows turned everything it touched into a fierce gold which bounced off the side of his face and into his eyes- creating splotches of sweet honeycomb too captivating to look away. It was almost as if the heavens were testing your resolve with how they shone down on him and you could only pray the light blocked his vision enough so that he didn't notice your prolonged stare.

"We used to but not so much anymore. D/n has been bugging me for weeks and I couldn't hold off any longer"

"That sounds about right" he chuckles dryly

"What about you?"

"It's our third time, I've been meaning to take her more but it's hard to find the time when there's only one of you"

You nod in excitement understanding, "I get it, there's only one of me too- and i could think of a thousand other things that need doing right now but..."

The two of you continued to talk, the subject straying slightly further from kids and more into your personal lives which you unexpectedly appreciated. Children were something you both had in common yes, but you hadn't had a proper conversation with another adult in a long while and it was nice to interact with someone as the original you for once- not mummy. He had an unspoken charisma about him, one that drew you in and you felt more and more compelled to ask about the mundane aspects of his day to day life- anything to fill the puzzle in your head of the intriguing man. Eventually the ice creams were served and although you initially joined him to help carry the two sizable bowls of sugar, he quickly scooped them up and asked another question before you could have a word of it.

"So," he said, voice low and subtly teasing, "do you think we’ll be able to handle two sugar-high kids at the same time?"

You raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "As long as they continue to entertain each other, but I’m sure we'll regret it regardless"

The girls were already bouncing in their seats, their eyes wide with excitement like little comical bunnies and you couldn’t help but chuckle. The two of you sat down next to each other engaging in conversation as the girls indulged in their own and suddenly the cheap plastic chair, bright fluorescent lights, and overbearing shouts of children became more comfortable than it had any right to be - blurring into the distance.

You seemed to bond with Shiu seamlessly, the two of you finding another who understood the hidden struggles of single parenting and you had wished it was as easy to talk to all of the parents you had to interact with; normally as a result of your daughters playdates where conversations consisted of watered down small talk.

Your discussion was cut short however as a loud beep echoed through the room—a reminder that your session was almost up and you prepared yourself for the oncoming tantrum.

"Ah, I’m afraid we need to get going soon," you said, carefully. "Our session's almost over."

The girls' faces fell. "Noo! Thats's not fair!" D/n whined, slumping in her seat.

You looked over at Shiu, feeling the irony of your disappointment as you not too long counted down the minutes until you could leave.

"Well, we’ll have to do it again sometime," he said, his voice warm.

"Definitely," you agreed, a tad too fast for your liking. "Maybe we could arrange a playdate for the girls? They seem to have hit it off."

Shiu’s smile softened. "That'd be great"

The girls erupt in squeals once again,

"Can we have a sleepover!?" (D/n) begged. "Please, please, can Min-hee come over?"

You and Shiu exchanged knowing, apologetic glances, and you reached for your phone, handing it to him.

"Here, I'll text you and we can figure out what works best"

He took the phone, his fingers brushing yours for just a second. "Sure thing." He quickly typed before handing it back to you. "Looking forward to it."

"Me too," you said, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest as you saved his number.

For some reason the simple exchange felt strangely significant, like the start of something new.

Please feel free to leave any ideas/ recommendations x

[sicklyworm]

Aventio headcannons :

• Aventurine is an sparking water guy! He likes the ones with strong flavor not the lightly flavored ones.

• Dr. Ratio is NOT a coffee guy but instead has a home made smoothie/protein shake like concoction which is not only tasty but absurdly healthy!

• Both Ratio and Aventurine do frequent cardio workouts. Ratio does it more out of want to keep his body as healthy as possible, Aventurine on the other hand does it out of a paranoid belief he might need to be fast enough to escape... Something. He doesn't quite know what something is yet but better safe than sorry.

• Aventurine expected to be dumped by ratio the moment after he was no longer "useful" to Ratio. But as there first time came and when and Ratio showed no sign of leaving he had to really wrestle with the fact that someone might actually want him for him.

• Ratio despite being the ultimate atheist, is actually really respectful of Aventurine's non-secular religious beliefs! He brings a level of neutrality and acceptance that is not only new to Aventurine when it comes to his beliefs but also deeply appreciated.

• Ratio makes his own bath bombs with better ingredients that are actually scientifically proven to be beneficial to bathe instead of just smell good... Though they definitely do also smell good and fizzle up!

• Ratio makes his own rose face and body soaps along with body butters and lotions that Aventurine definitely borrows. This is why both of them have such perfect skin for no reason at all!

• Aventurine was a shower guy before dating Ratio, seeing it as a chore and just wanting to get it over with, but now he views baths as an act of self care and enjoys a good soak in some warm water. He always takes a quick rinse in the shower afterwards not wanting to stew in his own filth.

• Ratio on the other hand takes a shower beforehand and then dries off his arms and hands before getting his bath ready so he can safely read his books and cleanly soak in his bath! Of course he keeps his towel nearby in case he accidentally dips a hand in the water on accident.

• Aventurine ordered custom cutesy couple towels as a gag for him and Ratio. Now Ratio gave the obvious "Ugh" reaction Aventurine was hoping for but then Ratio genuinely started using the gift towel exclusively. It got to the point where Ratio would delay taking his bath just to wait for his cutesy towel to get done drying. Aventurine couldn't help but feeling oddly touched by this.

• Aventurine has been ordered custom couple stuff ever since and Ratio has followed the same pattern of using them exclusively as well.

[forcebookish]

and the forcebook lavenderverse expands

[zlobonessa]

hm. i feel like I'm not unhinged enough for the past few days. here's my old-but-reworked omegaverse headcanon tier list.

[palms-upturned]

.

[willinglyghoulified]

What I Imagine the Fallout 4 Companions Smell Like

Don't ask me why I was thinking about this.

Cait - locker rooms, leather, salt, worn fabric

Curie - chamomile, fluoride, fresh linens, sterile supplies

Danse - faint shaving cream, musk, metal polish, a woodsy scent, a hint of snack cakes

Deacon - mint or eucalyptus possibly, cut grass, dust (from hiding places)

Gage - sweat, dirt, beer, cigarettes, rust, faint smell of honey

Hancock - also cigarettes, Jet fumes, moist earth, anise

MacCready - gun polish, a summer day, bourbon, popcorn somehow

Nick - Grey Tortoises specifically, fresh rain, worn plastic, musty fabric

Old Longfellow - fresh coffee grounds, sea air, homemade soap, pipe tobacco

Piper - newsprint, pencil shavings, chocolate, cherry candy

Preston - wind off a thunderstorm, something like cork and cedar, fresh cotton, idk mf smells good af

X6-88 - just has that "new car" smell

Bonuses:

Ada - oil, metal, rust, the snacks you told her to pack

Codsworth - rust, the outdoors, freshly cut plants, dish soap, Abraxo cleaner probably

Dogmeat - just wet dog

Strong - probably piss and dead animals, mf stinks

[sharkneto]

How is Migrations rated that highly on Goodreads. Absolutely insufferable book, glad to be done with it.

[thebirdandhersong]

songbird's brain: I think we ought to have a personal copy of the Chronicles of Narnia in our personal library. As a treat.

part of songbird's brain that has been keeping track of the literary 'treats' purchased in the past few months: says WHOSE WALLET

[mortalityplays]

talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.

I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.

I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?

This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.

At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.

EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.

Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.

When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.

prezzemolo

I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.

[usodeshou]

I had many things that I had considered doing today, most of it just being some chill video gaming, if I'm really honest. And I did get to do some. Then I started feeling sick.

I thought to myself, oh well, that silly motion sickness again, guess I'mma take a break 🙃

Turns out, wasn't just the motion sickness, though.

Spent the next hour and a half using my toilet as an echo chamber for creative voice lessons. Switched it up every now and again, just to keep things interesting, but the sound was just too good, so I kept coming back for encores. Realised the toilet might be cursed because I could not move away from it for more than a few meters or a few minutes before having to return.

Messaged my mom, who kindly brought me something to help break the curse.

Then spent the next three hours in a curled up position on my bedroom floor, on the carpet right next to my bed (bed would have been to soft), head on my fluffiest pillow, and underneath a warm, cuddly blanket, finally getting some rest and sleeping off the exhaustion.

When it all started it was early afternoon. The sun has now set. I am finally sitting back on the couch, munching on some insanely good pretzel sticks and drinking tea. Feel utterly serene. Could murder someone for a good, cheesy pizza right now, but that might be the devil talking.