#back in my twitch streaming days i would sometimes get called ‘probably’

[probably-not-a-rutabaga]

2 am poll thoughts,, for science,,,,,

if you vote secret 6th option, you’re legally obligated to tell me how you refer to me in your mind 🥰

[blackjackkent]

The Ebbs and Flows of Programming

I got a very nice shoutout from @vexacarnivorous the other day as part of their writeup of resources in the codeblr sphere. It made me smile and I very much appreciated it. <3

It also made me think a lot.

Vexa shouted me out for the fact that I offer free programming tutoring as part of my Twitch livestream - which is very true, and I welcome anyone requesting it. I love helping people, especially those just getting into the industry. If you would like to reach out to me for assistance, learning, or just chatting about code, please, please do; I am always available for it.

Anyone paying attention, though, might have noticed I haven't done my coding stream except when tutoring in a number of weeks or really posted much about coding at all. The truth is, I haven't really done much programming outside of work for several months.

I've been hesitant to term it "burnout" because it hasn't come with the hallmarks we typically associate with that word - I don't feel depressed, I don't feel resentful or stressed really. But really it is a flavor of the same thing, and I think as someone who prides myself on representing what being a developer is Really Like, I think this sort of thing bears its own round of discussion.

Sometimes you just won't want to code, and that's also okay.

I think this is a difficult thing to conceptualize when you are a new developer. In my experience, those early years in the field are full of excitement and promise. You have so many ideas and there is so much to learn and every bit of new technique or technology feels like opening a treasure trove. For years, I was the poster child for this level of enthusiasm - late nights working on side projects and coming into work with dark circles under my eyes.

And I am not for a moment saying that's a bad thing! Ride that enthusiasm train as far as it will go whenever it comes into the station. :) This is an exciting field and I love seeing anyone get excited about an idea, implement it, run with it, feel fulfilled by making it.

What I want to talk about, though, is the days when it doesn't feel like that - because you will have them. Everyone has them. Personally, I'm 34 and tired. XD Sometimes I go through periods where I just want to play video games and not think about anything after work. And just as often, the urge to work on a project eventually comes back - probably quicker when I don't force it - but it's really easy to be too hard on myself for those periods where the enthusiasm isn't there.

The reason I think this is important to discuss is that there is a LOT of stigma, spoken and unspoken, in the industry against people who leave work at work. There's the concept of the 10x engineer - a developer whose productivity and output matches that of 10 "regular" engineers, and who is constantly in the trenches. There's the vocal admiration for people who drive themselves to distraction, working 80 hour weeks to achieve their vision of some killer app, side project, or even their company's product. This is viewed as the apotheosis of developer-hood, but in truth, it's unhealthy - both for those grinding that way and those who don't want to but are stuck with the image all the same.

I struggle with this image myself. The last few months, a recurring throughline in my therapy session has been - what am I bringing to the world if I'm not producing project output All The Time. It's been a little humbling stepping into the spaces of young developers to offer my help, and realizing that they are full of that exuberance and energy when I am in a slump where I am not.

But what I want to say here, ultimately, is this, and most likely it goes for other callings as well - sometimes you will feel the fire burning within you, and sometimes you won't. Don't get caught in the trap of feeling that your worth as a person (or as a developer) comes in passionate, all-consuming output. The important thing, always, is whether you are doing work, or living life, in a way that makes you feel fulfilled. And I, for one, am proud of you (and learning to be proud of myself) no matter what that looks like.

[elenam]

headconon of y/n and chad michael collins as a couple be like:

(also there's something things that it's in my opinion, but who knows what his personal life or his relationship is when he's not on camera and etc. and i decided to do something different, if you like it, i would be happy.)

warning: fluff, adorableness, wholesome, no nsfw (you dirty mind people), just love and happiness.

-------------------------------------------------------

chad is a gentleman and a romantic person: he's that type of man who loves you no matter what. if you're fat, skinny, short, tall, white, black and many different things, he still loves you. he loves you the way you are and it's not something to be ashamed of in my opinion. he doesn't want other girls who are skinny and beautiful, he loves you for you who are and he will be there for you if you want to change yourself.

chad won't post any pictures with you on his social media not because he's embarrassed of being with you or anything that will make you insecure. he really wants to keep his private life away from his fame, he prefers to keep personal life away from social media and his fans since he knows how internet can be cruel and mean to everyone for no reason, sometimes with a reason but most of them want to hurt someone and he doesn't want to see you hurt.

whenever you're sad or not having a good day, chad will do anything to make you smile. chad, is a very lovely, funny, caring person, he would do anything to see your gorgeous smile after he made you feeling happy and telling a few jokes, he would be the type of guy who will take care of you when you're sick, you're having your period as you would do the same thing if he gets sick.

you would probably see chad in the movies or series he was on or guested on. you couldn't help it, your boyfriend who has been an actor for more than maybe 10 or 15 years, something like that, he's a good actor and you are surely proud of him.

i would feel like you would be the princess and chad is the prince charming who is going to protect you from all the bad things, you held your hand and kiss it on the back of your hand, cuddle with you whenever he has a very long day on work or maybe spending time in his office since he does live streams on twitch.

obviously playing call of duty with chad on his office. he plays alex keller on that videogame so it would be a lot of fun and cool to play with your boyfriend, also spending time with him whenever he doesn't have a busy schedule.

chad would respect your choices and decisions. i personally don't see him as a type of a guy who tells you what you should do or not because you're parson who is a human, everyone makes mistakes and besides he doesn't see you as a property to be controlled by him. you're an independent woman or man, you're allowed to do whatever you want or can do.

in my personal opinion, i can see chad having a relationship with someone older or younger (as long as you're legal of age) than him. this is the 21st century, some people are dating or married to someone who don't have their age, it can be younger or older, people online think it's super gross and disgusting but chad and you don't care and ignore it. you are a legal adult and it's not something to be ashamed of being in love with someone older than you, young girls or boys at the age of 18, 19 and even 20 fall in love with men and women who are double their age like in their 30s, 40s and even 50s, sometimes in their 60s.

everytime you see him doing his training because he will do an action movie or keeping him healthy and in fit, you would blush so hard and probably have a nose bleed from seeing his muscular figure, you could stare at him for hours. chad would tease you to make you blush so hard and you're trying to get your mind off the gutter but he thinks you're so cute when you blush.

chad and you would live your lives happier, sometimes arguing about something serious and sometimes stupid. it's normal to have an argument with a partner since in a relationship there's ups and downs, not everything is perfect and the world isn't made in pink.

if you don't want kids, it's ok. chad respects your choice since pregnancy isn't always easy and some people think that abortion is horrible for killing unborn children what about the health of women, there's women around the world who can't have children, who have medical problems and many other things. chad supports you 100%, after all happiness doesn't have to include children or a marriage, as long as he's with you, he feels loved and vice-versa.

chad would get dogs since in my personal opinion he would adopt a cute golden retriever or a german shepard dog, he's not going to turn the dog agressive, just having a pet animal to join the family, if you want a cat or something other than dog, he'll accept it.

throughout your relationship, it's cute, wholesome, adorable and many other positive names ever.

-------------------------------------------------------

thanks for watching and reading :) <3

[artisticmenace]

PROSHIPPERS DNI I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!!

Other DNIs below.

im approachable and you should talk to me. cue hypnosis. on or off anon. you can literally never talk to me again if you wanted. this is the internet and idk who you are or where you live ok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello, dear friends and accociates. Welcome to the normal info section.

hiii. I'm tabs. I'm suuuper gay(asexual panromantic). I'm also an artist. Any scorn or prejudice will be promptly ignored. Criticism will be looked over as long as its constructive. i am american 🇺🇲🏈🦅🤠

profile picture forever and always by me. unless this message changes in which im not using my own art as a pfp anymore.

fun facts:

im not a stoner but a lot of people think i am

i <3 maximalism and i want to be cecil palmer

in an ideal world i would be a clown

Status:

dude i AM the stress ball

About me:

I have a bunch of OCs, and I'm writing so many (unfinished)books... Yeah, that's right. I like to suffer and die creatively TWICE!! I can not be helped. I'm just goofy like that sometimes. I hate most non canon ships for fandoms im in, but I'll probably just go "ew" and leave you alone(depends on the ship, really). I haven't been tested for autism or ADHD but enough things line up, so I'm like 80% sure. The 20% is self-doubt. I like to dress fancy, and my general look is deep woods cottagecore that has recently drank from the lake of maximalism. You won't see pictures of me, probably, because my room is NOT clean. Sometimes, I vent on here, but that's because I am the only demographic this blog needs. I love you, too, but your feelings are only being considered a little bit. I use tone tags every now and then if I feel I would be misunderstood. On that note, I am more likely to ignore or ask for clarification if you say something rancid or silly than get on your ass about it.

Those Days:

I'm gonna be making a comic called Those Days about a small town old gay couple, Scott and Rodney, telling their life's story. They've been friends since their sophomore year in high school, and they've seen a lot. Scott was a punk, to say the least.

For the actual comic, you'll need to thosedayscomic, the blog I made for the comic.

^^ I'm currently working on the first issue. I do have lots of art of them though.

Tags for my comic:

those days, those days comic. also any character names first and last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Current Fixations:

Camp Here and There (Waiting for S2)

Welcome to Night Vale (all caught up)

The Magnus Archives (help)

The Magnus Protocol (screaming)

Good Omens (wkealt. wbotpfalt.)

Malevolent (blood covered screaming crying throwing up)

What's Currently Crippling:

good omens is going to kill me. i will never be able to think of anything else what the hell

Also:

I love interaction! I will always discuss my interests, and l o r e when asked. In other words, PLEASE TALK TO ME !!!

i use ibispaintx btw and i watch the ads for my brushes

things you can do with my art:

- You can use my art as a pfp or banner on any social media(if u rlly want to) excluding twitch and yt if u have a channel AS LONG AS YOU CREDIT ME

- you can use my art for like. wallpapers and edits or wtv. i dont care if u post them w credit as long as you arent selling them.

things you can NOT do with my art:

- repost w/o credit

- actually just steal my art

- use it to train ai

- use it for anything commercial unless ive either a) given you permission or b) you commissioned/traded me or i gave it to you for free (this includes twitch and yt if you have an active channel that you post/stream on)

if any of this comes up i will start using watermarks again even though i usually dont cause no one is stealing from me rn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Art Requests/Asks: Open!!

Art Trades: Open!!

DMs: Open(as long as you arent a creep or an asshole obviously)

(cant do commissions because the world hates me but dont be shy to trade me. not particular on what i get back as long as i made someone happy. cause it feels amazing to see something i did made someone happy)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DNI LIST because I'm a little hater:

proshippers (what the fuck. what the actual fuck. fictional or not.)

active members of the hazbin/helluva fandom(if i am reminded of that shitshow when you interact with my page UTAFSHBDBDBDJNSJAGAHAOSHHAGA)

racists, sexists, homophobes, transphobes, etc

pro-israel.

18+ blogs (a whole minor)

those problematic "sexualities" (ex. super straight, MAP, zoosexual)(also RCTA what the fuck)

people who fake disabilities/mental illness

people who actively misuse words that describe mental illnesses even though they are well informed about that sort of thing

those fucking people who ruin pretty houses and antique furniture and old clothing. fuck you.

people who write smut about canonically sex repulsed asexual characters(jonathan sims) and just people who decide they dgaf about anything like that. bi-erasure, aro-erasure. anything erasure. i hope youre having a terrible day.

sydelijah shippers get out.

(this one is unserious) people who dont deadname twitter

PRO HOA YOU DONT EVEN BELONG ON TUMBLR FUCK YOU I HOPE MY FUTURE SOMEWHAT UNATTAINABLE MAXIMALIST HOME PISSES ON YOUR BABY

people who are mean to me. i havent had any yet but just in case. if you disagree with my take, thats ok bc you arent the demographic for my blog. I AM!!!! /silly srs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's my sick tags:

artisticmenace - anything that is a post by me

menaceartisticity - art and art related things

themenaceuseswords- text posts. i say shit sometimes.

themenacerants - my new tag for when i lose my shit

menaceencouragement - words of solace and encouragement from me

menacepoetry - poetry/songs yeah. probably sad stuff cause im miserable sometimes

menacescrawling - writing. oh buddy boy.

menacemusicality - im a choir kid what do you want from me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you, I love you.

going to collect these things because why not

credits, top to bottom:

butterscotch-goat

cowboyinternist (2)

[evoilvx]

If the RE8 ladies were properly introduced to modern society I think they would have a field day.

(An extensive list of things they might enjoy)

I might even make something about the things they would hate

There might be some mild inaccuracies but it’s all just some fun little hcs of mine :>

Will be updated sometimes!

Alcina:

Alcina using the speech to text and voice message feature everyday to sent angry, irritated messages to Karl whenever she wants

Lazy rivers at water parks

Aquariums and fish tanks

Bidets

Roombas

TV shows like TVD and The Originals (ironic I know).

Miniature toys, like tiny french fries, tiny sodas, tiny furniture, she would have an entire box of them

But also those ridiculously large pencils

Massage chairs

Expensive cars

Amazon. Don't ask, just know she would LOVE it

Rolling chairs

Foster care systems, you can’t tell me she wouldn’t love taking care of children until they’ve found a suitable home, her maternal instincts will never grow cobwebs as long as I have a working brain and fingers to write

Those head scratchers/massager

Detachable shower heads (take that however you want to)

Standing desks

Hot tubs with jets

Credit/debit cards, for obvious reasons (sexy, rich lady)

Bela:

Unhinged access to books and video games on the internet, she would never leave her room. She can now live in complete solitude with nothing but her little pixels and endless letters on a screen

Fostering animals

Self warming beds

Motorcycles

Wattpad and Tumblr

Hot wheels, but only because she loves finding exact/close replicas to Alcina's car collection and putting them on display

Museums

Skateboards and rollerblades

Airpods

Air conditioners and humidifiers

Invisible ink and diaries

The RGB cloud lights that you can put on your ceiling

Facetime

Digital art

Chapstick

Faceless Twitch streaming

Mini fridges

Hoodies

Reddit

Cereal

Rubiks cubes. She's collected all the variants she could find, solving them, then unsolving them, then repeating the process. She has them all lined up on a shelf

Cassandra:

Cassandra finding boxing classes and learning she can beat the shit out of people, call it a lesson AND get paid. (We’re going to obviously ignore the fact that if she seriously maimed someone she would get fired.)

Amazon, she would have a field day ordering all sorts of things

Haunted houses

She would LOOOVE the Jigsaw movies and just scary movies in general

She likes Twitter just to start discourse and argue with people (and win)

Call of Duty, she would be a beast at it

Activities that use 3D glasses

VR games

Paintball tournaments

Workout equipment

Florida (pls don't ask on this one, just take my word for it)

Convertibles

Word searches

Unofficial, definitely illegal, might get arrested boxing tournaments

Swing sets

Football

Wrestling

Gogo squeez

Extremely-really should not be doing-dangerous outdoor activities. She drags Daniela along with her while Bela watches in concern before shrugging and going back to reading

Fidget cubes (I love these things) She would have a blast going through the different fidgets. The idle clicking noise will never stop when you're around Cassandra

Super glue. She breaks something? Super glue. Mother will never have to know (she'll know)

Daniela:

Daniela and gay bars. Nuff said.

I think she would like working at endangered species centers, where she can be around and care for extremely dangerous apex predators

Onesies

Tumblr

I feel like she would be really good at those claw machine games

She would also love amusement parks and dangerous outdoor activities like sky diving, running of the bulls, volcano boarding, would probably give Alcina multiple heart attacks at once (she also thinks Cassandra is so cool for doing all these dangerous stunts and wants to join)

Tattoos

She would definitely become a tattoo artist

Trampolines

Touch screen fridges

She would go to paintball tournaments with Cassandra

Goldren Retrievers

Glitter sticky hands

Gogo squeez

Megaphones

Fire extinguishers

Whipped cream

Just Dance

Lunchables

Stress balls, preferably ones that are designed like an animal so she can watch the eyes comically pop out. She has approximately 23 stress balls, her favorite is an orange fish

Donna:

Unlimited cartoons and animations on a flatscreen TV

Modern kitchen appliances

Jobs that teach wood work, design and of course: doll-making

AMAZON and online grocery shopping. Donna, especially, would love Amazon. She can buy everything she needs without any other interaction? Just a push of a button? She’d go wild with it

LED RGB lights

Sticker books

I’m feeling my neurodivergent nerves tingling and pointing towards Donna so I’m going to say she loves those smooth hardcover books with gloss papers, especially if they’re about gardening or cartoons (I say this because I love the same type of books, makes my brain tingle nicely)

Sprinklers

Emails

Tea play sets

Humidifiers

Youtube and Netflix

Slime, she would make her own slime all the time

Golden Retrievers, just loyal, working dog breeds in general

Zip ties

All natural body products

Mother Miranda:

Mother Miranda would go insane, simply put.

New science equipment? Donors? New scientific breakthroughs?

She can now pay people off to leave her alone and get her own modern lab? She can work in peace with lots of new opportunities?

A NEWS CHANNEL? Don’t even get me started, for some reason I have a feeling Miranda would absolutely love the news channel

Aquariums and fish tanks like Alcina, she would have them everywhere in her house

Goldfish (the snack that smiles back)

Grey’s Anatomy but only to criticize the methods (she won’t admit she likes it)

Automatic pet feeders, even if she doesn’t have a pet

An iPhone, I feel like she would make her widget theme something really unique, and she can bother the other Lords whenever she wants for whatever she thinks about

Rolling chairs

Mint chocolate chip ice cream

Face masks

Romantic, drama shows (she won't admit she's cried to a few of them or that some of them ruined her day)

Skin care products

Coupons

Antibacterial wipes

The Dimitrescu daughters introduced a fidget spinner to her and since then she has not gone a single day without mindlessly spinning the toy as she works/relaxes

[420pogpills]

to celebrate this monumental day in our community, i am going to post the dream team meetup + drace reveal excerpts from my dnf fic 'together' because let's face it i am most probably never going to finish this fic so if you wanna read the parts, they are below under the 'keep reading' 😁

no beta we die like george in manhunt (there's probably going to be so many typos and grammatical mistakes i genuinely haven't read this back or edited it in like a month soz but hope you enjoy anyway)

the fic is called 'together' (title from by together - gjan)

They’re not boyfriends. 

At least not on paper – arriving at that label would require communication, and would George be George if he didn’t bend over backwards to try and avoid every single situation that required him to speak about his feelings? 

Dream wouldn’t change him for the World. 

He worried, in the beginning, that things would change. That actually meeting George in real life would shift their dynamic into something that neither boys were able to recover from. 

Up until George moved in, their relationship had remained genuinely platonic (or, as platonic as doing an ‘am I in love with my best friend?’ quiz whilst on call with said best friend could be) and Dream won’t deny that feelings were involved long ago – definitely from his end at least – but there was almost like an unspoken line in place that neither of them tried to cross. 

Perhaps because they knew that finally meeting face to face was the one final test left to verify the strength of their connection, and whether anything beyond friendship was worth the risk. 

Remembering all those nights Dream laid in bed staring at the ceiling, chewing on his bottom lip until it bled or picking at the skin around his nails until it was raw, and sometimes even wiping tear after tear but they fell regardless, because at one point he was hit with a very strong realisation that what he felt towards his best friend couldn’t be described as just ‘love’. 

He hated waking up and not hearing from George within the first hour of consciousness. He can’t keep his eyes off of every freckle and strand of hair and twitch of the lips, whether it’s a picture on his timeline or a stream or a private FaceTime, he has no trouble focusing on every part of George. He remembered being a young teen, never once questioning his sexual preference towards women, but having to spit out a random excuse to mute himself the very first time George revealed his face on camera. He sure as hell did not react this way to seeing Sapnap or Bad for the first time.

He entertains his childish pranks and loud shrieks, he buys him things despite knowing full well George’s bank account was thriving. There are things that really, only George can get away with. 

Because he’s George. 

And his heart has accepted that there is simply no other explanation he’s going to get as to why he allows George to do whatever he wants in his life. He’s long since stopped caring about much else other than what makes the British boy happy.

Over time, he stopped fearing the thought of things falling apart, and started believing in his own ability to make George happy. So when he received the call mid-February, hearing the tremble in his voice, the unshed tears of pure joy, the whisper of ‘it’s been approved Dream’ – he knew then and there that his love for this British boy by far surpassed every single force on this planet that ever even stood a chance at taking him away from Dream. 

That was also the moment he truly started believing in soul mates. Or maybe he already did a long time ago.

The time between George’s visa getting approved and George getting off the plane in Orlando Florida was very short. ‘Finding out on a Monday afternoon and being on a plane that very Saturday’ level of short. 

Waiting is hard. And they waited long enough. 

Dream would not be coming to the airport – they had already decided a long time ago that the face reveal will be in the first official Dream Team pictures that they will collectively post on social media at the same time. They knew the chances of Dream getting recognised were very high. He may be faceless, but it will undoubtedly be easy for fans to do the math when a tall blonde man is seen with George and Sapnap in the Orlando International Airport. 

His leg was starting to feel numb from how long it had been bouncing, but there was not a single force on this earth that could contain the jitters and anticipation that was building up inside of Dream. 

He has many people that he loves and many people that he just cannot wait to finally meet. One day he will meet Bad, whom he owes so much to. He will meet Punz, and Sam, and Karl, and Tommy, and all of the people who have changed his life over the span of the last couple of years. 

Meeting Sapnap was the easiest thing in the world; Dream can’t really remember a time when the Texan boy wasn’t in his life. When he got to hug him for the first time, it felt less like a first meeting and more like a reunion. They were brothers in every form except blood. 

But George – George was different. There wasn’t really any explanation he could give, nor did he need to, because it’s clear to absolutely everyone who knew them. What he and George have was simply different. 

He knows deep in his chest that that first touch will spin his world on its axis. Many nights were spent just imagining all the different scenarios of how their dynamic will develop in person. 

Every person that has had the chance to meet George already has mentioned that he does not shy away from touch the way many people initially thought - even Sapnap expressed his shock when re-telling the events of his trip to London, that George did not push him away even once when Sapnap initiated any sort of physical affection. 

Plus, Dream has seen plenty of the vlogs and streams that George has been a part of, to know that he was in fact not like a scared stray animal that would hiss at every attempt to be touched, but instead he was a spoiled house cat who may very rarely initiate contact but did not hesitate to accept any that came his way. 

And of course Dream is excited to see it all for himself, but he’s also aware that they are different, that there is something else there that may impact their dynamic and boundaries differently to all of their other friends. He had many questions he wanted answers to.   

Will George let himself be hugged? Will he let Dream touch his hands, carry him around like a sack of potatoes, brush his hair away from his face when it gets too long? 

Likewise, will George reciprocate any of the tiny touches, will he reach out for a hug the second he lays eyes on Dream, or will he wait for a cue? What will George say, when he does finally get to observe Dream’s face?

It’s not something that he has voiced to anyone but he has found it increasingly hard to hold back the crippling self-consciousness he’s been harbouring when he realises this will be the first time George will actually, finally, see Dream’s face in person. 

There will be no filter nor screen to hide behind. Just Dream, in his full unapologetic glory. 

And while he’s excited to finally tear down every single barrier and wall between them, he couldn’t help but worry about George’s opinion. Which he knows is stupid, George loves him – maybe almost as much as Dream loves him – but he just couldn’t stop himself from hoping that when help but hope that when George finally sees his face, he will think Dream is beautiful. 

He wasn’t quite ready yet to unpack the meaning behind those thoughts.

The sound of Sapnap’s car pulling up into the driveway was sure to burn itself into Dream’s brain like a core memory. He saw stars in his vision from how fast he jumped to his feet, but he did not stumble when sprinting to the door. George was so close that Dream swears he could feel his presence. 

Suddenly, instead of the stifling Florida heat, Dream felt like he was being kissed by the most gentle rays of sunshine after spending months in the dark. 

His mind emptied itself of all thoughts, and the only word he could use to describe how he felt the first moment he made eye contact with George as he was climbing out of the car - was alive. 

Every worry and negative thought was exhaled in the same breath as the strangled gasp he couldn’t suppress when he realised George was within touching distance. Finally, finally it was Dream’s turn. 

And in the next moment he moved as fast as the breeze, only stopping when he was met in the middle by the British boy who held the other half of his soul with him for all this time. 

Enveloping George in his arms, after several years of waiting, felt like he was experiencing a kind of joy that he had never felt before yet. A kind of happiness that existed only to be felt on that very occasion, only to be felt by them. They collided with so much excitement that neither of them could fight off gravity before they collapsed into the grass, without letting go of eachother.

George was so warm - lankier than expected, but still so delicately thin, so soft and so very real. He was laughing and shaking, or maybe Dream was shaking. There was no stopping the tears that soaked into the shoulder of George’s white t-shirt, and they laid there until the fabric was almost dry again.

The first one to break the internet was actually Sapnap. 

@sapnapalt: fine i’ll say it, dnf is not dead 

It wasn’t discussed nor planned, but the captured moment was so natural and undeniably beautiful, that neither of the boys cared. That’s how the meetup was announced.

The fans were given less than a day to recover before the next meltdown.

@dreamwastaken: Told you that she was gonna love you :)  

 ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ 

Of course he was excited to face reveal, since it meant finally getting to go outside and spending time with his favourite people. That’s why it took him by so much surprise when his thumb was hovering over the ‘post’ button one second, and the next his vision went dark. 

When he came to, he was on the floor with his back pressed to George’s chest, bracketed by his legs and held tightly by his arms as the other boy repeatedly whispered ‘you’re okay’ in his ear while gently stroking his hair back. He couldn’t tell if the shaking was coming from him or George. Probably both. 

Sapnap was kneeling in front of them both with a bottle of water in his hand, his eyes blown wide with worry. 

It was a panic attack. 

All the excitement did well to mask the crippling anxiety he had pushed away to the back of his mind, at the thought of how much his life is going to change for not only him, but all of his friends and family too. The inevitable abuse and invasion of privacy that would come from the people online who feel ruthless hatred for his existence - despite him trying his best to make amends, to prove he’s a good person. 

Eventually he had to come to terms with the fact that it didn’t matter how much love he had to give - there was no way to please absolutely everyone. 

George was delirious with worry, eyes blown and glassy, fingers twitching. His face was twisted up in what was probably meant to be his typical sarcasm, but the tremor in his voice wasn’t convincing. It wasn’t Dream’s first time encountering George in this state, but it was his first time seeing it in person. 

A sour taste always forms in his mouth when he remembers the boy losing his mind after receiving a call from Sapnap about Dream being rushed to hospital earlier that year due to kidney stones. Despite not having a diagnosis yet, they scared themselves into believing the worst when Sapnap let it slip that Dream had created a note on his phone containing all his passwords. 

After finding out that George stopped eating for two days when he collapsed momentarily while in a discord call, he decided he never wanted George to feel that much worry ever again. 

(There was also a solid period of about three days where George refused to refer to him as anything other than ‘idiot’ because after the worry, came the anger.)

George would rather drink hot sauce and lemon juice than say the L word out loud, but Dream knew firsthand that he cared and loved so intensely that none of it needed to be vocalised verbally. They got each other, and their bond was special.

The panic attack took every ounce of energy he had left in him, and so he spent the rest of the night in bed. His sleepy eyes begged him to let them close, but he desperately wanted to burn this image in his head, of where instead of having George in a discord call - this time he was right beside him. 

Pale arms did their best to wrap around and hold him, soft lips almost pressing against his temple. Despite the inner turmoil of the day's events, Dream felt like the entire world had stopped and it was just him and George, finally able to hold each other close. 

A warm breath tickled his forehead, and he drifted off to a delicate voice whispering to him.

“We’re gonna be okay, you’re okay.” 

That was George’s second night in Florida. It was also the first night he slept in Dream’s bed. 

(Dream patted himself on the back for that one - he definitely thought he would have to work harder to get the British boy into his sheets and allow himself to be cuddled… He should have panic attacks more often.)

(That was a joke.) 

The face reveal was posted four days later than planned. The fans were confused, having been under the impression that it was going to go hand in hand with George’s arrival, but all questions were forgotten the second everyone finally got to familiarise themselves with the dirty blonde hair, green eyes and beaming smile of the little green blob they have spent several years loving and supporting.

When it happened, Dream was squeezed between George and Sapnap on the couch, with both boys rubbing his back and encouraging him to breathe as he stared down at his phone showing the unpublished post. 

He remembered taking a deep breath in, and pressing ‘post’ as he breathed out. His heart was racing and his fears were loud, but he knew he could overcome absolutely anything that was thrown at him, as long as he had the two people he loved the most by his side through it all. 

Dream was sure there was hate. He was used to being hated. But nothing prepared him for the overwhelming outpouring of love and support that he received, and for the first time in his life, everything negative was completely drowned out in the sea of positive. 

The instant he realised it, he burst into tears, his sobs of relief coming out in hiccups. In the end it turned into a core memory for him, because the fondness that he felt towards the fans who loved him, the friends who supported him, and the two heads pressed into each shoulder soaking his hoodie with their own tears of joy - he wasn’t sure he had ever felt quite as happy as he did in that moment. 

But as it turns out, now that George was within touching distance of all times - those moments were just the first of many. 

The entire experience had drawn the Dream team even closer together - Dream and George especially. The boy grew very accustomed to Dream’s need for touch, and he loved seeing the chaos that they were able to cause on the internet by posting pictures of them together that were blurring all platonic lines.

@GeorgeNootFound: He’s kind of obsessed with me :/

It was never going to be all smooth sailing, and Dream suffered from a few more panic attacks in the following weeks - luckily none as intense as the first one - as he had to get used to a whole new life of a lot more people knowing his business. 

He received several calls from a couple of childhood friends who had been kept in the dark about his identity. All of them were shocked he made Minecraft videos for a living. None of them were upset about the secrecy. And that made Dream smile, knowing he truly kept the best people in his life. 

Eventually the panic attacks dwindled down to little hand tremors, as his confidence grew and he got used to being in public again - the Dream Team were ready to take over the World.

to be continued~

[korasonata]

I think this is just what my blog is now. Model streams have taken over. Sorry, not sorry. Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo paper model streams part 5! (Featuring a heavily sleep deprived Joe)

—

Cleo (talking to her cat): Ok. You have had attention. Are you— are you going to go? *pausing* This is the sort of thing I ask Joe. Umm… *laughing*

Joe: Constantly!

Cleo: *laughing* You’ve had your attention, can you go now?

Joe: Can you just not be here. *both laughing*

—

Cleo: Yeah, I have to start gluing things to other things. Badly. And, uh, realizing where I’ve messed up. Which is EVERYWHERE!

Joe: Uh oh.

Cleo (totally not fine): Its fine. It’s fine. I’m fin— how are you Joe?

—

Joe: It makes about as much sense as anything else I do? So…

Cleo: I mean yeah. I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it cause I’m not rude. But, you know.

*both laughing*

Joe: Now you’re just lying to me!

Cleo: *laughing* WOW!! Joe!! My heart is just hurting! Now.

Joe: Mhm.

Cleo: You can tell can’t you, I’m deeply— intensely wounded by that statement that you just made.

—

Joe: I was gonna say, we’re gonna have to call whatever the British version of an ambulance is.

Cleo: Um, I think— and I could be wrong here, the British equivalent of an ambulance is…an ambulance.

Joe: oh, ok that’s really good to know. Cause like, not that I’m planning on getting injured while I’m over there, but like—

Cleo: I mean, if you carry on talking that way you might.

Joe: I mean if I meet you, then there’s a chance that somethings gonna get shoved in my eye or something.

Cleo: Somethings gonna get taken off.

—

Joe: I mean, they say it’s the shotty carpenter that blames his poor tools, but I mean look at this.

—

Cleo (about her bisexual tags on twitch): Hold on, hold on, I need to explain what “visibility” means to bisexuals. Bisexuals are often— um, hidden in the community. They are often, um, not treated as either part of the gay community and the straight community doesn’t really appreciate them either. So, having visibility for bisexuals is very important. As it is for any other place. Also having those tags on your stream show that you are a safe place for those people to go. So, you know, actually labeling those things is important because it shows people that they are not alone. And not being alone? Really important. (To Joe) Sorry, am getting frustrated.

Joe: As somebody who’s been alone for the last year and a half with this stupid isolation, uh, yeah.

Cleo: Yeah! Being alone and not feeling alone is really important.

Joe: If you need to be explained at this point in the pandemic why feeling alone is not good, like I don’t know what to say.

—

Cleo (reading chat): What’s my favourite minecraft mob? Do people have favourite minecraft mobs?

Joe (very tired): Just say whichever mod’s here. Who’s got a sword *scrolling through Cleo’s chat* umm… yeah it’s AnnaBomBanana. Is everyone’s favourite minecraft mod.

Cleo: …moB.

Joe: …MOB! OH!

Cleo: *continuous laughing*

—

Joe: This is gonna go off of the rails further and further. There’s no— there’s no rails anymore! It’s just, somebody has scrawled “here there be dragons” on the ground.

Cleo: I mean, isn’t that pretty much how you live your life anyway?

Joe (high pitched squealing): It kind of is. *laughing continues*

Cleo: You know. Here there be dragons— Sometimes it’s not dragons. Sometimes you might be lucky.

—

Joe: So, like, one thing you can do is after this project you can build tiny dollhouses. And create like a bedroom for each of your tools. And so the knife can just be in the knife room. In the dollhouse. And it can have a knife day.

SILENCE

Cleo: Umm…I’m gonna pretend like what you said made sense.

—

Cleo: I could have said something really nasty then, but I’m not going to. See? I’m growing as a person Joe.

—

Joe: You know what? Hold on, we’re gonna— we’re gonna— at the point where NJ is concerned about my caffeine intake, I’m gonna go get a red bull and I’m gonna take my headphones off before anybody can tell me otherwise, byeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Be right back!!!! *leaves*

Cleo (calling after him): Well done Joe! I believe in you! *narrating* She did not in fact believe in Joe, and was very concerned.

—

Cleo: I know when there’s a bad idea. It’s when Joe has made it. Joe has suggested it, that’s— that’s when you know it’s bad.

—

Joe: I know that there are ways to have computers automatically send invites, but that’s a good way, like, I know there’s a saying like, to error is human, but to screw up like a hundred thousand things all at once—

Cleo: That’s the Joe Hills Difference.

—

Cleo: Ugh, I feel like poop today.

Joe (genuine): I’m sorry.

Cleo (tiredly): No, that’s ok…(groggy) I’ll torment you…later…it’ll make me feel better…

Joe (equally as tired): Yay!

—

Joe (about Cleo and Xisuma): But Cleo, you’re the responsible adult in this scenario, so yeah you probably should have some answers.

Cleo: X is almost as old as I am.

SILENCE

Joe: …it’s a maturity gap?

Cleo: *laughing* Is that why I’m here with you?

Joe: …no.

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe: I say very confidently.

—

Joe (teacher voice): Quantum mechanics is a fundamental theory in physics that provides a description of the physical properties of nature at the scale of atoms and subatomic particles—

Cleo: *flipping him off*

Joe (blissfully unaware): Now classical physics! The collection of theories that existed before the advent of quantum mechanics—

Cleo: *trying to ignore him*

Joe (carrying on): Quantum mechanics differs from classical physics in that energy, momentum, angular momentum, and other quantities of a bound system are restricted to discreet values—

Cleo: *fingers drumming impatiently*

Joe (still going): Now! Quantum mechanics arose gradually from theories to explain observations which could not be reconciled with classical physics—

Cleo: *physically going through all 5 stages of grief*

Joe: (insert continuously long string of rambling science here)

Cleo: *mutes Joe*

—

Cleo (responding to her partner in chat): You have the movie poster for Dora the Explorer? Cam, I’m suddenly questioning our relationship now.

Joe: Uh oh.

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe: Yeah, I knew I was gonna get blamed for that eventually.

—

Cleo (frustrated): I’m gonna kill someone. And since the person who made and designed this castle isn’t here…(trailing off) Hi Joe.

Joe (accepted his fate): Hello.

—

Joe: Have you ever officiated a wedding?

Cleo: No I haven’t. Why, do you want me to?

—

Joe: Oh! Oh! I found my cross stitch the other day!

Cleo: Oh cool!

Joe: *rummaging in the background* Yeah, so, I don’t know if you’ve seen this before—

Cleo (excitedly): ShowMeShowMeShowMeShowMe!!!

—

Joe (reading chat): Am I excited for Minecraft Live? Umm…

SILENCE

Joe: You know, so much of life is minecraft, but you know, maybe this is just a step too far. You know? Um, I think Mojang asked if they could and never stopped to ask if they should. Um, you know, I think their decision in particular to clone dinosaurs at the event as part of their Jurrassic Park, uh, map thing that they put out— which, also, it’s not even like the Jurrassic Park movies are really for kids, but here’s— here’s Minecraft with Jurrassic Park in it, and also we’re gonna clone a bunch of dinosaurs for this livestream, it’s like *groaning*. I dunno. I’m dubious. I think it’s gonna backfire. Ya know, there’s like 4 cautionary films about why you don’t clone dinosaurs. And they’re just jumping in feet first. So…but, you know, I’d like to be wrong about this. Maybe it’ll go great.

Cleo: …are you having a moment Joe?

—

Cleo (reading chat): “when the arts and crafts streams become Cleo with a scream mask” I am not X. I am not X, I promise you I’m not X. I just don’t have a face.

Joe: Heh

Cleo: And if I was— hang on I’ll be back in a second.

Joe: …wait, did you just realize that you do have a scream mask?

Cleo: No, I have a better mask. *leaves*

SILENCE

Joe: *watching Cleo’s stream intensely*

—

Cleo: Are we seriously doing guillotine jokes right now? I’m not saying I disapprove, but

Joe: yeah, we say “Giatine”

Cleo: That’s ok, you can be wrong.

Joe: …It’s a french word.

Cleo: And? You’re allowed to be wrong.

Joe: …*deep sigh*

—

Joe: It’s funny too. Because people will tell me that I don’t seem like a very— like, mostly my coworkers. Like, would tell me that I didn’t seem like a particularly emotional person.

Cleo: *bursts out laughing*

—

Joe: Yeah, I feel like I didn’t make a lot of…visible progress today…but…it’s fine…

Cleo: I made progress for both of us Joe.

Joe (tiredly): Thank you Cleo… (resting head against the ring light)

SILENCE

Cleo (tenderly): …You’re welcome.

[chubbology]

The Munchies

prompt: a stoner feedee's girlfriend uses him to test out new edibles and deals with his munchies

Remmy returned home from visiting relatives on the last day of December, and he was very glad to be back. They’d fed him well and his pants were tight, but all the small talk and bad vibes had been as much of a drag as usual.

He opened the door to his apartment and breathed in a familiar, potent scent.

“Baby!” Brianna ran from the kitchen and tackled him.

“Happy almost New Year! Wanna hear my resolution? Baking and getting baked. Check it out.”

She brought him over to the counter, where she was almost done filling up three containers of what Remmy had no doubt were various edibles. He ignored the kitchen mess.

“I’m liking what I see,” Remmy laughed.

She preened and then pinched his love handle. “I bet you do."

"These aren’t your typical brownies, though," she said. "This is gourmet.” She kissed her fingertips in a muah.

The first container was full of moist shortbread, the second with a kind of apple crumble dish that looked divine. Last but not least, the third had a jumble of what like peanut butter cups.

“Try something!” Brianna gushed. She seemed to be a little floaty already. “You’re gonna be my new taste tester. I think I could really be good at this. Make some cash, too.”

So Remmy tried one of the peanut butter cups. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “Bri, these are incredible.” He ate another.

“Take it easy. Two should get you stoned. So says the recipe anyway.” Brianna rubbed his pudgy forearm as he eyed the rest in the container, biting the inside of his lip. “Hey. If you’re just hungry, I can fix that. You wanna eat?”

“I’m starving,” Remmy said. A lie, since he’d had a big lunch before driving back. But he could eat.

“Okay, I’ll get you something! Pay day was Monday. Let’s splurge. What do you want?”

McDonalds, Remmy’s mind supplied easily, in an almost salacious tone. His relatives thought they were too good for McDonalds, and now his body thrummed with the desire to just get a truckload of those greasy combos and revel in the guilt and satisfaction of eating every last unhealthy bite.

Then again. Brianna probably wasn’t okay to drive right now, he didn’t feel like getting back in the car, and the scale told him he’d hit 240 recently, “Let’s just order in.”

“Sounds good to me.”

That night, as they ignored the idiots on television bringing in the New Year, the two of them picked at the apple crumble - which tasted as brilliant as Remmy had suspected - and lounged around, enjoying their high. Brianna barely touched her Chinese takeout, and Remmy ate all of his. Then hers. Then he started grazing the kitchen for more food.

Over the course of the next week, the two of them finished off the rest of what she made, plus some more recipes that turned out delicious. Brianna got a pleasant high every time, and Remmy enjoyed the edibles, too, although his experience was slightly different. It was just—

He just—

He got hungry. Munchies but on unholy overdrive. Cranked to eleven and a half. With every high, Remmy became a little more overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food he felt compelled to pack away, savory and sweet. Takeout and fast food and quarts of ice cream. Nuts and fruits, too. Jar of peanut butter here. Tub of icing there. He’d never been very active, so it came as no surprise when his clothes began stretching over his chest and belly and thighs and ass. He popped a button getting dressed one morning and couldn’t stop thinking about it the rest of the day. He hadn’t realized it would happen so quickly, his body converting all the calories into flab. Flab that padded him out chubbier than he already was, and then more on top of that. In the mirror, he started to look big.

Brianna seemed unfazed by her boyfriend’s growing girth. She took to her baking resolution with as much gusto as she did anything that interested her, and even into March, April, and May, she was selling the edibles well and raked in money that almost made her day job obsolete. Remmy was constantly praised for being “the bestest taste tester ever” and enjoyed a steady stream of free highs to balance out the lows of spending most of his time working his IT job from home.

Working, gaming, watching old movies. Remmy already stayed sitting most of the day, but as he gained weight, gained a lot, filling out his desk chair to its limits, crumbs becoming his constant companion, he felt even less like standing up. His weight climbed to 280, 290, 300.

June, July, and August passed uneventfully, and pretty happily, too. Brianna stopped asking him what food he wanted from the grocery store and just bought him things. Bought him things she knew he’d eat when he got high, things that made his ass spread wider on the couch, his arms round out like sausages, his pudgy chest start to really droop. The scale said 320, 330, 340.

Remmy gave up trying to gain control of the new appetite Brianna’s heavenly edibles seemed to install in him irrevocably. When he craved, he ate, and he ate. And like a dam breaking, his body surged with so much excess fat he began spilling out of even his newest clothes.

He was a little ashamed, sure. But quite a few of his relatives were fat, so they couldn't talk, and it felt like sweet revenge to embarrass his irritating parents by becoming so overweight. As for everyday life, well, he just moved around from room to room slower, wore the same stretchy clothes a lot, and that was it. Remmy did mention his weight in passing sometimes to gauge Brianna’s feelings about it, but Brianna only ever giggled, called him cute, and passed him her venti sugary monstrosity of a coffee concoction, which he thoughtlessly sucked down to the dregs, ingesting a thousand-plus calories just like that. This made her eyes sparkle, huge and utterly endeared.

“Like a piggy,” she said, thumbing his fat cheek. “Always willing to eat.”

In bed, she made it clear she liked him the way he was, and was becoming. And it wasn’t long before Remmy realized he was into how big he was becoming, too.

They continued like this. Getting high together and watching movies and making out and snacking. Well, Brianna snacked. Remmy feasted. Gorged himself, to put it precisely, with Brianna’s enthusiastic help. “You look good soft,” she’d tell him, playing with belly fat that his stretchiest t-shirts couldn’t cover anymore.

Remmy would swallow another bite of a snickers and spread his huge thighs a little, with effort. “You call it soft, but I’m the one who gets tired moving from the office to the kitchen.” I’m so heavy, he wanted to say. God, I’m so heavy.

“Just move your computer to the kitchen then,” she said. “Duh.”

It was a seed planted that came to fruition a month later - when Remmy’s food cravings became unmanageable and his weight climbed past 360 - that he felt he would simply be more productive during his day job if his breaks to get food from the kitchen were shorter.

By November, whether he was high or not, Remmy was grazing all day, everyday. What Brianna got from the store became insufficient, and he started a habit of ordering take out most days. In big portions. His scale creaked at 375. When Brianna wasn’t home, he sometimes ate takeout on the scale to see if the number would rise.

On Remmy’s birthday in early December, Brianna made a fresh batch of his favorites again: the peanut butter cup edibles. After ordering pizza for delivery, she got in the shower, and Remmy scarfed down three of the big cups as soon as they cooled. Then he waited, leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone, belly hanging, feet hurting. He didn’t want to go to the effort of sitting on the couch and getting back up again when he could just stay in the kitchen, where he knew he’d end up anyway.

He scratched his supple underbelly. Found a pack of Twizzlers and started eating those.

Soon enough, his breathing slowed as he felt the high slowly come over him. And, as expected, his whole body immediately began to tingle for satiation. Fattening food sung to him from the pantry and fridge and freezer all at once, and it was all going to make him so huge and heavy he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own wide feet, but he wanted it anyway.

He didn’t care if he was pushing 390 now. He’d blown up, yeah. Inflated from a thick guy to obese and waddling. At this point, he was so pumped so big with blubber that he couldn’t twitch without jiggling, but so what? He was hungry. Being high made him want to consume, and so he did. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.

Remmy opened the fridge and took out his birthday cake, which Brianna must have stuck in there after getting home from work. He couldn’t wait to eat it properly. There was no way he could wait until after the pizza came. Besides, it was his birthday. Remmy took off the plastic lid of the round, triple chocolate cake and felt his nerves light up with anticipation. He was going to eat it all, and there was no stopping him.

He found a knife and cut himself a slice three times the size any reasonable person would take. Desperate to get the goodness into his mouth without delay, he skipped a fork and bit right into the gooey, dense cake and mouse and fudge. God, Brianna was so perfect for getting him the unhealthiest cake imaginable. She knew he didn’t care if he was ten pounds heavier tomorrow, if his fat ass ripped his sweatpants open, if he ate so much he couldn’t haul himself to bed—she knew he needed this.

He ate slice after slice, and it was mostly gone when Brianna got out of the shower, looking sexier than usual in her matching purple lingerie. She’d gotten chubbier with so much junk food in the apartment, and fat clung to her in all the right places. But her pudge was a far cry from his angry-red stretch marks and neck rolls. Hell, his moobs had grown bigger than her tits.

She found him in the kitchen, eating and holding his drooping belly, and she rubbed his back, cooing at him when he apologized.

“It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait all night. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Remmy said, but all he could think about was getting his next bite. As she watched him, he tried to hold out. Tried to prove he could stop eating for two seconds. Three seconds, four - his resolve broke and he crammed the rest of a slice into his mouth and chewed, choking back a moan.

“You get the munchies so bad, don’t you?” Brianna grinned and leaned against his belly, patting and cupping his weighty breasts in the way she knew pleased him. “Let’s get you sat down. I’ll bring you what you need. Just sit and relax and watch whatever you want.” They moved to the couch and Remmy sat, the cushions wheezing, his thighs and belly quivering. Brianna tucked the remainder of the cake into his pudgy hands. “Don’t worry about a mess. It’s your birthday. And there’s more where that came from.” She winked. “I just needed to keep this cake refrigerated because it’s fancy. There’s a whole sheet cake on top of the fridge that’s cheap and huge. Covered in icing. Perfect for munchies.”

Remmy could only feel a wave of relief at this news. There would be more cake. And after that, there’d still be more junk in the cabinets. There was pizza coming. His high was just right. Brianna turned on the television to his favorite show and he settled further back into the cushions, feeling his second chin swell out and engulf his first. Everything was just right. He was lucky to have Brianna and food. So much food.

A year later, around the same time, Remmy skipped his usual trip to see his relatives for the holidays. At 520 pounds, it was simply too much effort to move.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[dystopiandilfs]

Dream's discord podcast. Basically him answering questions for 2.5 hours. This will sort of be in order but I fucked up my notes so it might not be in order completely. (From 13th May 2021)

For reference the photos at the end are: A prototype of fidget spinner merch as loads of people asked, a reference photo of his favourite merch and a photo he sent of his hair to prove he wasn't a brunette.

•He said his teeth are mostly straight but he's thought about getting Invisalign. He's never had braces. He has a tiny gap in the left side of his mouth and his canines are longer and sharper (vampire arc). He's never had teeth surgery so has his wisdom teeth still.

•He thinks pineapple on pizza is good.

•He likes seafood like lobster and crab. He had crab made in an air fryer last night. He like peas. He thinks quesadillas are good and likes most food.

•He hates Coffee and most drinks

•The Dream Shorts team is Ken who is his personal reminder (Ken's main job is to spam him with texts so he doesn't forget things as he's got a habit of reading texts and not replying) and also comes up with a list of sets for Dream shorts. The builder is a friend and munchymc builder "his talent gets wasted on Dream's shorts but we pay him so"

•His editors are currently Dizzy, Firesale and Mjcr. Willz doesn't edit for him anymore

•The mask animation isn't done but Mask should be released May 21st. He wants to release them together as "the whole song is a double meaning and the whole nuance will be lost without the animation" but no matter if the animation is done the song is getting released on the 21st.

•He and Sapnap eat together often.

•He and Sapnap prefer medium rare Steak

•He wants a home gym it's something he's willing to splurge on. They currently have a weight rack but they haven't even set it up.

•"Eat the rich? Shut up shut up" - Dream

•Talked about money basically saying "Most people don't understand how money works I don't have millions in my bank account it's in assets like merch, land and warehousing for that stuff" (He's not in his landlord arc)

•He's been debating Pride Merch because of Rainbow Capitalism. He doesn't want it too be seen as a money maker and if he does most proceeds would go to charity. He's currently super busy merch wise with Sapnap joining and George in the middle of joining. He did say "Only if the LGBTQ+ community in this community wants it" He thinks he's going to at least change the merch website to a pride one. Sapnap wants to make pride merch including a rainbow flame on his.

•He wants to create a charity that's centered around helping LGBTQ+ one day because he thinks that there's a lack of them. He mentioned that creating a charity was expensive and took a lot and was a complicated process including a board of directors but he wants to do it someday.

•He wanted to buy a bunch of houses in Florida which was a service to house mostly LGBTQ+ youth and people stuck in abusive households for free to get them out of bad home environments. But he didn't because he didn't want people thinking he was profiting of of abuse victims and LGBTQ+ community.

•He said he's terrible with time management and replying to people which is why Ken helps him (and also helps George and Sapnap). He mentioned how Sam messaged multiple times and Dream just forgot to answer but felt bad "I feel like people think I hate them..... Cause I'd be mad if people did that to me"

•He tries to reply to a few texts a day (community number). He also can't do birthday messages everyday because you can only reply at certain times so it's not abusing the system so if you get one it's special. He said he does try but it's got a weird time gap.

•Him and the manhunt winner are trying to come up with a good time to film

•He wants to stream this MCC on twitch and says his team is good.

•He talks about why he's not partnered with Twitch. Basically Twitch has a lock rate (in which you make money) and you legally can't stream on YouTube. So legally if Tommy wanted to stream on YouTube he couldn't. Someone then mentioned how Bad is a twitch partner but still streams on YouTube "Bad streams on YouTube but he has for a while and I don't think that he cares" - Dream

•He likes to reply to every donation he gets on stream and feels bad when he doesn't so he'll turn them off when he streams and wants a platform deal where he can be payed to stream (not twitch). If he gets a streaming partnership he will stream a couple of times a week. He looked in to Facebook but they don't have an alias system meaning you can see everyone's actual Facebook account and personal info, he doesn't like seeing real names on Facebook so it would require a lot of altering if he was to stream there so he's thinking it's probably going to be YouTube.

•He was asked about if his demographic was what he expected and he said he went in with no expectations, he didn't even know what stans were, wasn't really on social media so he wasn't aware of the fan culture. "You guys are a handful sometimes but it's worth it"

•He also mentioned how he and the DreamSMP changed the twitch audience demographic. It used to be male dominated in both streamers and audience and now it's almost split which is unheard on.

•He has 5 fidget spinners in his house. Two in his bedroom. Two in his office. One in the living room.

•He likes his Minecraft skin as he thinks the arm is cook and you never see the rest of his skin really. He says it's unique and different and "me". Dream: You can't even tell half the skins apart on MC.

•He's not lost the motivation to stream. Most of the times if he wants to stream he gets George or Sapnap to do it and he just turns up. It's more beneficial to them as they have donos and subs on. (Don't we fucking know it "can you say hi to")

•He has listened to Lovejoy. Says the ep was great and they're very talented and awesome. Doesn't know what his favourite song is but probably would pick One Day because the chorus slaps.

•RIP to acoustic Roadtrip. He said instead of acoustic Roadtrip we get Mask so no losses today for Dream stans.

•"With Roadtrip I went to Parker and I said Hey I have a story I want to tell through music. I have no experience with that can you help me" He said sure. He crafted the music and melodies and how things are formed where it's catchy. I have less comfort singing that. I love the song and it's my song, it's very representative of me and I'm sure I could sing it but it's a song I'd be kinds of scared to sing live, with Mask I basically did everything. I sat there the entire time and maybe an hour out if the 100 I wasn't in the call. Dream came up with the lyrics and main melody for Mask (First one he's ever come up with) "That was just notes in my fucking voice memos"

•The clip we heard of Mask was a prechorus not the actual chorus. He thinks he'd be more comfortable to do a mask acoustic and it's more melodic than Roadtrip. The chorus also has a lot of instruments similar to Roadtrip. Mask starts of slow and guitar with minimal reverb and is more raw.

• He doesn't want music to be his main thing. It's something fun to do and he's passionate about it as it's a way to express emotions. He wants to release mask then go from there. He wants to release at least one more song but has nothing on his mind currently. His two ideas were Roadtrip and Mask.

•He wouldn't quit his job to become a pizza delivery man.

•His favourite features on himself are eyes or freckles and he also confirmed that he does have eyebrows.

•He was told that Parkour warrior would be bought back some time in the near future and he got excited for it. "Even if I don't win, which I will, it'll be fun"

•Went on about his MCC team but I'm not going to put that in as we should be getting them today. He did say he wasn't on Pink but he did sound confused. (For reference he's always in Pink as it's the last team announced and keeps the hype up by announcing the biggest streamer last)

•Said he and his mum had the Mr Beast burger. He recommends because he likes the avacado. He mentioned how Mr Beast uses "Ghost Kitchens" which is basically where he gives restaurants permission to cook his food so it's restaurant quality food.

•His favourite piece of merch is the circle smile. (The pool photo on Instagram). He said the quality was bad (he worked with a different company and didn't have his own company) and it was elasticy feeling and he's planning on re-releasing it again but with good quality.

•He's started to send merch out in custom packaging. So his bags have the smile and will mostly be green. Sapnap's has the flame and is either black or white. He's also trying to make it so every order has the sticker packs for both him and Sapnap.

•He loves the coins as it's cheaper than a hoodie but still celebrates the milestones and will last a long time. He mentioned how the old coins are getting removed off the site and how if you have any of the coins your special because only a few thousand get made. He's kept around 100 of each coin that he wants to give away in person.

•He wanted to have a cool store where you could access computers that give you access to the DreamSMP in spectator mode. But it's too costly and would require too much time and isn't safe fight now. He doesn't think it'd be worth it financially.

•Most of the hoodie are black instead of multiple colours because of limited supply and covid. Getting the colours are harder because if the pandemic which hopefully won't be an issue soon.

•He wants to do a short meetup tour with Sapnap and George with a few locations in the US (and if others nearby want to join like Quackity or Karl they can). He also wants to visit Australia, UK, Canada, Mexico and Philippines and do something like that there but definitely at least visit with George and Sapnap.

•He's never been to the Philippines but his mum has. He wants to set up a place in the Philippines where he can ship merch in bulk and it would help to reduce shipping. However it would probably be big milestone merch.

•He's not got the vaccine yet but will get it when he needs to. He doesn't leave the house so he doesn't see the point.

•He's the ideas man. George's footcam video was Dream's idea. The T-shirt video was Dream's idea. Most if not all of the Dream Team's videos are Dream's ideas.

•Said he's got a similar/the same hair colour as Froy (Dream buddy at this point the only difference between you and Froy is that one of you is dating Richard Madden /lh)

[stylistiquements]

Introduction : three older brothers

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist} 𐐪𐑂 Summary : When Sapnap learns the news, some questions are resurfacing.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.1k

𐐪𐑂 Warning : none (for once lol)

Masterlist | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

I’m coming to see you in Florida, your voice plays again and again like it’s some kind of song stuck in the back of Sapnap’s mind.

In the lull of the afternoon, a nest of merriment peaks in the crest of his chest and threatens to overflow, but honestly it’s more a promise than anything; bare feet stomping euphorically against the wooden floor without a hint of withhold and the humid air twirls around his fists as he punches a not so silent victory.

Fifteen years of friendship, two years of longing and four months until the world both crumbles and harmonizes again.

129 days until my best friend comes home, Sapnap processes ecstatic, acidic. Peonies hatch in the depth of his heart, where light shouldn’t reach but still does somehow.

The heel of his palm presses against the phone a little tighter, where your voice ringed high and low just minutes ago. He forgot to ask how long you were planning on staying with him and Dream. Somehow, he forgot how to think about anything else but the fact that, soon, late night texts and virtual calls are to be bad dream-ish flashes. But it’s so easy to put everything behind, so easy to dismiss when you’re about to appear in front of him, soft as a smile and real.

When the celebration falls breathless, Sapnap isn’t sure what to do with himself, throwing his body over the bed that bounces up and down and the movement is so swift he’s left tasting all fuzzy. He’s transported overseas, heart streaming over the sheets. They wrinkle and frame his body like a restless picture.

This could just be a dream, he reasons; he waited so long for you to say those words that, for all he knows, he might have been asleep all along. The threads of lights that escape the window fondle his hair and wash up two soft cheeks and, in an attempt to seal the wish, he closes his eyes and lets the sun flood the back of his eyelids.

What is printed there, between orange light and imaginary shapes, is an old memory that slowly unfolds; a brushed wound on your knee during one of those skateboarding afternoons.

Sapnap huffs. God, you used to love skateboarding so much it drove him crazy.

But it was, after all, his duty to carry you home. Like a princess, you said, eyes sparkling and smile so promising. He whined, complained the whole time about you being heavy, but it didn’t matter; what colored his skin was how important you gave him the opportunity to be. And the truth, although diluted, remains indelible to the passing time.

It’s funny, he recognizes, that the memory decided to collide with this very moment. Just as if a boiling impatience molded itself into a wave of memories. And when the nostalgia fades away, he imagines what it would be like if you were right in front of him; the shape of your eyes and the curve of your smile. Something old, something new, something blue, he thinks ironically, though it probably only makes sense to him.

“What the hell, Godzilla?” The door cracks open and welcomes a swirling breeze. Dream fakes the annoyance, but his tone betrays; boyish amusement. His silhouette intertwines with rays of lights and though his shadow elongates enough to hide Sapnap from the merciless sun of Florida, one glance at the man forces him to squint in order to not be completely blinded. Sapnap tunes into reality once again, heels sinking into the mattress.

“129 days,” he mumbles, willing to answer a question that hasn’t been freed yet, knowing it’s not too much of an answer yet everything he’s capable of for the moment given, still stuck into the ethereal.

“Cryptic,” Dream sighs. His scoff stops when he lies on the bed next to his friend, a small rattle falling out of his lips.

In the interlude, met by two green eyes and the chirping of the birds outside, he gives in, “I haven’t seen y/n in two years and now she’s coming back in 129 days.”

Dream’s head rises effortlessly, unimpressed, little birdie tells Sapnap he probably knew much before he did.

“Then why are you not as happy as you should be?”

“I’m not sure,” Sapnap shrugs. “I mean-- I am, but it’s weird. It’s like super long and super short at the same time.”

Dream’s hovering smile twitches slightly devious, slightly smirk-ish. “Maybe you’ll finally be able to tell her how you feel.”

Betrayal, he noticed the way his lashes flutter when your name is mentioned in a conversation, the way he secretly flusters every once in a while when the boundaries between what is and what could be are drawn too blurry. Sapnap’s eyebrows arch in a hypocritical confusion.

He gulps with a little bit of coyness, “It’s just not the right timing.”

“Things don’t always need to be complicated, you know.”

His jaw clenches in a sour agreement, but to be so desperately in love with his best friend, there is only room for difficulty.

It’s like magnets with the same polarity. Sometimes, too caught up by the pursuit of your own selves, sometimes kept apart by the fear of losing the most precious thing life has given the two of you. And if one second he thinks he could catch a glimpse of hope, too tangled with the force field to think, the next he never even dares to think about it.

“I’ve heard how you interact with each other, being all flirtie flirtie and stuff,” Dream notes high and daringly. The smirk blooms, Sapnap flinches.

“Right, as if. She also has three older brothers, you know? Kinda don’t want my ass to get beaten.”

“You’re being a giant baby.”

“You’re a giant baby,” Sapnap repeats to mock. “Shut up.”

And soon the air is filled with hands aiming to attack each other, weltering between a mound of sheets and choked out laughter. The introspection blows in the wind for a second before reappearing as easy.

Once Dream’s power has made its own point, Sapnap surrenders, “Fine. Oh my god, you’re so annoying. And if I tell her that I’m in love with her and she rejects me, what then?”

Heaving chests and remains of chuckle, the sun fades out for a moment to give them a rest.

“And if you tell her that you’re in love with her and she says ‘me too’, what then?”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa

A/N : I'm so happy to finally post something again I feel like it's been years lol!! Hope you guys appreciated the intro. it's a bit shorter but once again its just the intro and if you're used to the length of the sorcerer's chapters then this is gonna defo be a lot shorter. Anyway lmk what you think!! I think I'm going to publish one part every sunday but can't really promise anything. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

[plutonianrising]

while the cat’s away a.k/k.k

pairing: akaashi x kenma x f!reader

wc: 4.5k

description: akaashi shouldn’t have left his two brats home alone for so long

a/n: this was v much inspired by that “i think you deserve two boyfriends” tiktok so thank that guy for this

cw: fem!reader, dom!akaashi, switch!reader, switch!kenma, established poly relationship, safe word check-ins, rules, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, threesome, cum-eating, aftercare implied

MINORS DNI PLS

Sometimes it can get boring when it’s just you and Kenma at home for the day. You know he’s usually busy streaming and it's usually fine since Keiji keeps you entertained. However, this morning Keiji insisted on handling the grocery shopping alone, saying it’d just be a quick in-and-out trip and he didn’t want Kenma to wake up left by himself. It was hours later now and Kenma had kissed you good morning and swiftly turned to his games. Even on his “day off” he’s playing with some of his friends. You’re kicking yourself now for having recently bought his current fixation. 

“Kyaaannmaaaa” you whine loudly and flop onto his lap. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as he moves his controller closer to his face. It’s almost like you’re not even there. You wouldn’t even be sure that he noticed you if it weren’t for the faint furrow in his brows and grimace on his lips. 

“Kenma you’ve been playing since you woke up. Can’t you take a little break? I don’t even think I’ve seen you eat yet,” you try to command even just a bit of his attention.

“I’m not hungry.” He grumbles. “And can’t you see I’m in the middle of a match? I can’t just leave whenever.” 

Your pouting turns to a full-blown scowl as his eyes leave his game for a moment to peek down at you; he realizes how quickly you’re reaching the threshold of your patience.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry. I know you hate when I play on my days off. Just sit in my lap and we’ll go do something else once this round finishes.” He backtracks. You roll your eyes but maneuver yourself so that you're straddling him with his arms around your waist and yours around his shoulders. You lean your head in the crook of his neck, gaining comfort from the smell of his shampoo even while your boyfriend is annoying the shit out of you. 

“You said one more match like 3 matches ago. I thought we had a rule about lying.” You say even though you know he really isn’t listening to you. You can faintly hear one of his friends talking in his headset. You thread your fingers through his grown-out hair absent-mindedly and open your phone with your other hand to text Keiji.

Kenma broke a rule. I’m gonna punish him. See you when you get home x

You’ve barely sent the message before you’re pressing down on his lap a little harder. You wiggle your ass as if feigning trying to get comfortable. You shift Kenma’s headset so that he can hear you whisper in his ear.

“Kenmaaa…” You trail off. “What happened to no lying hmm?” He stiffens and a cruel smile creeps its way onto your face. You place a hand on his chest and continue playing with his hair with the other, trying to coax him. You both know he can’t say anything with his friends on the other side and you relish in the fiery glare he shoots you.

You love how easy Kenma is to fluster. A breathy whisper against his neck. A sharp nip at his neck. It takes little to nothing to set him off. Even when you’re being punished and are forced to simply watch Keiji take him relentlessly. Kenma is breathtaking to you. When he’s annoying you. When he’s shyly grabbing your hand or Keiji’s to fall asleep. When he’s fucked out beyond recognition. At this point you’re probably obsessed over even the red that tints his ears when he begins getting overwhelmed. 

Sometimes you have to pay for your teasing but you know today at least, you’re fully in command. You know Kenma is too stubborn to shut off his game in the middle of a match with everyone on. After 3 years with him and Keiji, you know he’s a high-risk-high-reward kind of person. He was going to try his hardest to get through whatever you put him through without making a sound. Double or nothing.

“You remember how to tell me to stop, right?” You whisper again and press a kiss to his ear. Kenma nods.

“Hmm I wonder if I should make you say it out loud with everyone on call? Yea they’d think it’s random but better safe than sorry right?” You tease him. He shivers and goosebumps appear on his skin as you lightly drag your nails up his neck. He grunts softly and rolls his hips up to press against you. His eyes are begging you to drop that idea. Your wicked smile grows and you peck his lips. 

“You’re right baby. There’s already plenty of time to embarrass you. Don’t forget to talk to your friends on call Kenma. Wouldn’t want them thinking something happened to you.” You chuckle darkly.

You place your hands under his shirt and slowly slide up until you reach his nipples. They’re already hard from the chill of your room paired with his thin t-shirt. You press against one, softly toying with it with the pad of your finger. You watch as he tries to remain stone faced. His ears are a dead giveaway, though. You kiss all over his neck as he responds to someone. They’re feather-soft teases. You want him to have to beg to be marked by you.

“Kenma you’re so greedy..” You growl and pinch his nipple. He startles a bit at the surprise but quickly regains his composure. “You wanted this didn’t you? Too shy to say outright you wanted me to fuck you while you played?”

 “Or is it that you just like riling me up?” You tease him by grinding down onto his hardening dick. You roll both his nipples between your fingertips now, occasionally pinching them.

“Wanted the best of both worlds and even while I’m giving it to you, you can’t even be bothered to make those cute sounds you know I like so much.” You sigh, feigning sadness. You grind against him harder as you play with his nipples. You tease him further by kissing up his neck. It’s hard not to relish in his slight trembles when you blow cool air against his ear. While your focus is mostly on pleasuring Kenma, you cannot help the soft sighs that escape you. Seeing him struggle to control the stuttering of his hips only eggs you on. 

“How loud do you think I can be before they can all hear me?” You smirk and let out a quiet moan. Kenma’s eyes widen in panic and he slaps a hand over your mouth quickly. You slowly lick his palm while you maintain eye contact. His golden eyes are transfixed on yours, searching for any measure of mercy. He was kidding himself thinking he would find any. Many sessions with Keiji had trained you to follow through when you committed to something. 

Kenma slowly pulls his hand away from your face and you lean in closer. Your lips are just barely brushing against his as you mutter “Either you beg for me with everyone on the call. Or I just keep cumming by myself.”

He knows it’s a promise and not a threat. In terms of stamina, you have always had him beat, making over stimulating him a pretty frequent occurrence. At the beginning he and Keiji would switch out when it got to be too much for him but you two quickly learned that even with tears streaming down his face, his one thought is to satisfy you. You grab his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks a little. With the other you cover his mic. “What’s our word so I know you know it?” 

“It’s peaches. I’m ok. I want this,” he rushes out quietly, growing even redder. It’s this neediness that you so deeply craved. Kenma was quiet but he wasn’t exactly shy. When he really wanted something, he would push past his reservations to get it. And finally, right now, he wants you more than anything else. 

You finally kiss him deeply and Kenma reciprocates eagerly. To your content, his hips roll harder against you when your tongue enters his mouth. 

“Kenma? Why aren’t you moving, let’s go!” You hear someone say. You pull away from Kenma so that he can answer and he furrows his brow, obviously not ready for it to be over.

“Lev maybe if you quit worrying about what I’m doing you’d get more kills.” He quietly snips. You wince and giggle at his harsh tone, almost feeling bad about being the reason behind his expression. You lean close so you can speak into Kenma’s mic and as you talk you’re also taking a beat to fully appreciate how flushed and pretty Kenma looks. His mouth is wet and slightly pink and though his eyes are half-lidded he’s looking at you with full expectancy. It’s enough to pierce your heart. You aren’t sure if you’re actually punishing him or spoiling him rotten.

“Sorry about that boys” You giggle into the mic. Kenma’s mouth twitches downward a little when he hears how his friends’ react to your voice on mic. “Please forgive Kenma, I distracted him a little.” 

You don’t really pay attention to how they respond, turning your focus to slipping off Kenma’s boxers and your panties. You toss them somewhere across the room. As you slick Kenma’s dick with your wetness, it crosses your mind that Keiji could come home at any moment. You haven’t even looked to see how Keiji responded to your text. You’re probably screwed if he told you to wait until he gets back but you can’t focus on that with Kenma looking at you so eagerly, using every inch of his self-control to not fuck up into you.

Placing him at your entrance, you hold his gaze as you slide onto him. You take him all the way, forcing yourself to be just as quiet as he is. You let him try and focus on his game as you slowly roll your hips, silently screaming at how full he makes you feel. You fixate on the way his brows furrow and his breath quietly hitches. Kenma’s face is fully flushed as you ride him, not willing to give in or lose his game. You smirk and turn around slightly to look at his game. It brings you a weird sense of satisfaction that, even though he’s playing like normal, his dick is already twitching like he’s close. 

“Kyanma when’d you get so sensitive?” you tease quietly. “You been secretly touching yourself recently? Huh?”

“I-I” he begins to stutter out indignantly, trying not to pant too loudly. You cover the mic one more time. “I w-wouldn’t dare. J-just feels too good.”

You continue rolling your hips, reaching up with your other hand to palm your own breast. You don’t even try to resist the tightness building inside you. You let out a low moan as you shudder around him, your walls clenching around Kenma’s dick so deliciously that you can see the air choked in his throat as he stifles his own moans. As promised, you fuck him through your orgasm. His trembling makes it so much harder for you to relent. You want him to cum so badly, forcing you to turn off his game and fuck him until he’s a sobbing mess. 

He does so almost as soon as the almost obsessive thought crosses your mind. He holds you tight against him and buries his face in your collar, biting down hard in a final act of defiance. You yank Kenma’s head back by his hair and he’s glaring at you like his face and chest aren’t completely flushed and his pupils aren’t blown out. You let go of his hair and simply smirk and your anger makes it so much more fun to force shut down his computer. 

You wrap a hand around his neck and squeeze. “Kenma’s been such a naughty fucking kitty today haven’t you?” 

You slam down on his dick again and Kenma moans loudly this time. You aren’t sure if it’s from the pain of being overstimulated or simply the fact that he no longer faces the threat of embarrassment. Regardless, you know he’s going to be begging for that feeling again by the time you’re through with him.

You hear the front door of your apartment open and the familiar jangle of Keiji’s keys and soft footsteps. Keiji’s home but he puts the groceries away first. You know this is him giving you both time to collect yourselves and be on your knees somewhere for punishments. You know this but Kenma doesn’t look keen on moving and your heart is already beating in anticipation at how much further you could take this.

You hear Keiji’s footsteps grow louder and in seconds he’s right in front of you, analyzing what he’s seeing: an unplugged computer, Kenma slowly regaining his composure, and you right in his lap, lazily looking over at him with a smug little smile on your face. 

“Hey baby.” You can tell from one look what Keiji told you in response to your text. You can't help the way your body shudders in expectancy as he stares at you sternly. You kiss Kenma’s neck gently as you meet Keiji’s gaze, knowing full well you won’t be ready for the punishments he will be handing out.

“You had no intention of listening to me, did you?” Keiji says fondly as he walks over and stands behind you. He slides his hands around you: one pulling your against him, the other guiding your head up. His touch is gentle, his fingers moving you more so as a suggestion than a command. You struggle to keep your eyes open and on his beautiful features. Dark hair that curls in the strangest spots fell slightly forward. The sharpness in his deep blue eyes contrasts the loving way he strokes your cheek.

“Mmm… not really. Mmsorry ‘Kaashi but it’s so… much easier to just ask you for forgiveness. You’re so sweet to us.” Your words slur a bit and you smile up at your other boyfriend. You secretly wonder if you’re making the right call by pushing his buttons further. But oh well.

“Oh it's so much easier is it?” Keiji asks, his voice takes on an icy tone. He finally glances towards Kenma, slightly dazed as he watches you both. “Kenma do you agree?” 

You all know that no matter what Kenma says, he’s already in deep shit for going along with you. However, there is still a right and wrong answer. He could either a) agree and punish you with Keiji and receive a lighter punishment or b) side with you. The two of you make eye contact as he weighs his options. Memories of you sandwiched between them, mind hazy as they treated you like little more than a toy flood you. You vividly remember the time Keiji sent you over the edge repeatedly while you choked on Kenma’s dick, tears forming from how desperate for air you were. And the way they gazed down at you with your panties shoved in your mouth, so fully focused on making you scream that you feel like you’d been caught by two beasts.

You would never openly admit how much option A makes your mouth water but you don’t have to. Kenma doesn’t miss the way your thighs try to squeeze together, only to be met by his in between. Or the way your breathing has slightly picked up again. Or how you tightened around his still-sensitive dick the moment the thought crossed your mind.

“Yea ‘Kaashi… you’ve been really nice lately.” Kenma looks between you both and smiles before pressing close and embracing you. He holds onto part of your shirt and nuzzles into your neck. You don’t care if he was saying we’re in this together or I'm not letting you get all the attention after you ruined my game. Regardless, you still get to see Kenma trembling right next to you with puffy lips slightly parted, ready to beg, ready to need, ready to please.

Keiji stifles a laugh behind you, covering it quickly before petting both you and Kenma’s hairs. “I didn’t realize I’d been so gracious to my little brats. I guess that means you think it’s finally my turn for a reward?”

“What do you want us to do Master?” You ask coyly. 

“Well for one I want you two properly seated somewhere on the floor.” Keiji says coldly. He moves away and you and Kenma quickly take your places. On your knees. Eyes expectant.

“Kitty you look like she put you through hell” Keiji coos at Kenma, looking down at him while he strokes his cheek. You huff.

“I didn’t even-”

“Did I say you could speak sweetheart?” Keiji cuts off your attempt to explain and you know better to try any further. He doesn’t even need to look towards you to keep you in check “Kenma. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened.”

“S-she got mad at me for being on my game so long that she rode me while my mic was on and wouldn’t let me c-cum unless I… begged with everyone on the line.” Kenma looks up at Keiji pleadingly. 

“And did you?” Keiji prods. 

“D-did I?” Kenma splutters in surprise. The red flush on his body seems permanent at this point.

“Well you obviously came. I can still see it leaking out of her all over our floor. So. Did you beg?” Keiji doesn’t let Kenma avoid his gaze, leaning forward with a firm grip on his cheeks.

“N-no.” 

“No. Instead you bit her.” 

Of course he noticed that.

“So let me see if I got this right. Instead of accepting your punishment like a good boy or conceding… you decided to take advantage of her kindness and my absence. God it’s like you want that pretty ass of yours lashed until you can’t even sit in your gaming chair.”

Kenma takes in a sharp inhale, trembling slightly. You gulp in turn, knowing that even though Kenma was worse, you aren’t safe from reprimand either.

Keiji fixes his sharp gaze on you and finally acknowledges you. “Did I agree to letting you punish Kenma?”

“No Sir.” You answer quietly, trying to keep the shivers threatening to expose your excitement at bay. 

“Take off your shirt and lie on the bed.” He sighs and begins unbuttoning his shirt. You do as you’re told, removing your oversized sweater as you climb onto the king-sized mattress.

“It seems that I’ve been too lenient with the both of you so really the fault lies with me. Allow me to take responsibility for that now.” Keiji says. He stands before you and takes in your form, surely noting how much you’re quivering before lifting and spreading your knees, leaving you on full display. He turns back to Kenma. 

“Kitty you should take this chance to properly apologize. Come clean up the mess you made.”

Kenma is just as compliant, quick to kneel where Keiji orders him right in front of your dripping pussy. He can’t even attempt a front, immediately capturing your clit in his mouth. You moan and buck a little at the sudden sensation.

“Easy there Kitty. Take your time.” Keiji chides softly. Kenma hums in response and opts to lick a long stripe against you instead. He tries his hardest to pace himself as he mouths you, gently pushing his tongue in between your folds. 

Keiji opens your bedside table and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting some on his own hand and onto Kenma’s ass. You feel the shiver that rips through Kenma as the cold gel runs down him. He takes a quick second to let out a shuddering breath but doesn’t dare look back. You, however, fully stare as Keiji gingerly begins fucking Kenma with his middle finger. Kenma quakes at the feeling and Keiji revels at the sight of you two and how your moans and his combine in the air and fill the room. 

“Baby you’re so shameless” Keiji mewls “taking so much pleasure from all the chaos you caused.”

You can’t even argue his point. Every thought of disagreeing had left your head the moment Kenma’s lips had touched your throbbing pussy. All you can do is whine in response.

Keiji doesn’t take his eyes off of you when puts his hand on the back of Kenma’s head and presses him down further. “Make sure you get all the way inside. Only bad boys leave someone else to clean up after them.”

Kenma simply whimpers in response and thrusts his tongue inside you, trying his hardest to move his hips to meet Keiji’s pace at the same time. You can tell Keiji’s purposely changing it to make it harder for him. You continue to tense up helplessly and barely contain your writhing with the very last bits of control over yourself. You know better than to cum right now but the waves of pleasure rushing over you and the sight Keiji fingering Kenma open are quickly clouding your brain.

“Please...” you beg, aching for release. Keiji looks up at you and smiles softly, an utter betrayal when his next words leave his lips.

“Kenma, stop now.” 

You both whine and turn your attention to Keiji, facial expressions mirroring each other. He pets Kenma’s hair and plants two quick kisses on his wet mouth. You sit up and pout.

“Keiji, Sir, please, I wanna cum so badly.” You beg, head spinning a bit from the sudden loss.

“Oh so now you acknowledge that I’m in charge.” He says and moves to kiss your cheek next, He places feather light kisses against your jaw as you whine and whimper in protest. Drawing close to your ear, he whispers icily “I have half the mind to fuck your pretty little throat so raw you wouldn’t be able to speak for weeks without regretting testing me. But I’m sweet, remember? So listen before I forget that.”

All your dissent dies in your throat and you stiffen. 

“Ready to be a good little girl for me now?” He inquires in his normal tone. It’s almost scary how easily he can flip between the two. All you can do is nod and accept the deep kiss he offers as a reward, moaning into his mouth. “Good, now get on the floor next to Kenma. Wanna see you two suck me off.”

You quickly do as you’re told and sit on your knees next to Kenma while Keiji slides off his pants and underwear. With Keiji sitting on the bed in between you, you let a thick glob of spit fall on his dick and work it down with your hand, slowly stroking him. Kenma positions himself and takes Keiji’s head in between his lips, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks him down.

“You two have been so naughty today and now look at you..” Keiji says breathily and pushes your hair back away from your faces. “Sharing my dick so nicely with each other.” 

You and Kenma kiss sloppily around the head of his dick, letting your tongues coat Keiji further in spit. Even though you and Kenma bicker more often, the one thing you two agree on without fail is that Keiji looks the hottest when you service him together. It’s how his eyes focus fully on the looks you give him, full of trust and devotion. How he’s always sure to praise equally as he grips whatever or whoever is nearest to gain some kind of grounding. 

“Neither of you is getting my dick today... but you can make each other cum. Should be enough, right? Since you two were so impatient you couldn’t even wait for me.” Keiji teases in between his groans. You try to shove down your disappointment as you use your free hand to reach for Kenma’s dick. You pump him in time with the rhythm you manage to form with Keiji’s large dick in your throat. Your eyes burn but you try to keep down your gags and moans as Kenma starts rubbing your clit fervently, wanting instead to clearly hear how he and Keiji sound. His touch is vengeful, a punishment for putting him in this mess and you nearly see stars from the feeling of his sticky fingers circling your most sensitive spots.

“P-please Sir, t-this time I really can’t hold it,” Kenma whimpers, looking utterly destroyed with tears clinging to his lashes and a trail of spit still connecting him to Keiji’s dick. 

“If you think you can keep servicing us while you cum then go ahead baby, but you better keep moving.” Keiji permits and it’s all Kenma needs to cry out and shoot out ropes of his cum all over your hand. He continues his ministrations against you and Keiji and soon it’s your own hips that are stuttering. You do not have Kenma’s level of control so you try to shove down your incoming orgasm. 

“I need you to cum Sir please, please please. I-I won’t last. Please I want you to cover us with your sticky cum” you beg. You look up at him from under your lashes as you go back to mouthing him and feel him throb in between your lips.

“Yes Sir pleaseee. Want your cum all over.” Kenma adds, his words slurring together. If he couldn’t focus on both speaking and pleasuring his partners he would simply put his all into the latter.

“Want my cum? Want Sir to make a mess all over those pretty little faces?” Keiji groans, bucking his hips into your mouth.

“God yes please.. Please!” Kenma continues and Keiji takes his dick out of his mouth to stroke himself over your faces. Kenma is steadily bringing you to your own edge and you both can’t help but open your mouths in hopes to catch Keiji’s cum on your tongue while you orgasm. With a shout, Keiji begins cumming, spurting all over you and Kenma. 

“Go ahead sweetheart, fucking cum right now” Keiji hisses and you convulse as you finally let go, holding onto his leg as your orgasm rips through you. It’s hard to focus on anything besides how easily Keiji and Kenma make you feel like you’re in heaven. 

“Now.. have we all learned our lessons?” Keiji utters once he’s down from his high. The sight of Kenma and you leaning against his legs for support makes his heart swell. 

“Yes.. Sir.” You two manage to get the words out. 

“See I knew my little ones were smart.” He coos gingerly moves to first pick you up and place you onto the bed and then Kenma before grabbing wet wipes. “Now let’s get you all cleaned up.”

[griffintail]

Hello! I really liked your MCYT x child writings I just absolutely adore when someone writes for child reader or just platonic stuff. If you're taking any requests can you please make a reaction to Tommy's latest stream where Dream revives him. I don't know how to go from there so it's up to you on how things go! And in no way am I pressuring you take your time and it's okay if you decline this one.(This is so long-) can I also be cat anon? bye!<3

I did this request right now only because I was waiting for Tommy’s most recent stream. This was sent back when Tommy was first revived but I wanted to wait for Tommy to get out to make a reaction and the next part of the The True One mini series. I’m going back to writing the new Lost Ones chapter after this.

OH! And welcome Cat anon! ♥

A Normal Smile

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairings: Parental! Tommy x Teenage! F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of mourning, swearing, mild angst

A/N: (F/L) MEANS FIRST LETTER OF YOUR FIRST NAME! Enjoy ♥

        It had been weeks since the…incident. (Y/N) visited the memorial in Snowchester every day but she tried to take steps to move on. There were days she was fine and her old self, but there were other moments where she couldn’t be and was the sad teenager once more. She couldn’t set foot in her own house and she got Sam Nook to cover the windows to hide the prison from view at the hotel just so she could do business.

        Tubbo was happy to have her there though, and Ranboo was over more often as both the men took in the zombie pigman child. Today was a day of business and (Y/N) sighed as she walked to the hotel, happy it stood so tall she never saw the prison on her walkover. She wasn’t happy in general though. Today wasn’t a good day, it was one of those bad days.

        One where she couldn’t force a smile on her face or make herself care, but Sam Nook needed her and she promised she’d be there today, she also needed to get out. Sam Nook had been an excellent guard against Jack and a great man to help run the hotel with as usual. (Y/N) didn’t think she could run the hotel without him.

        “Hey, Sam.” She waved as she walked in.

        “Miss (Y/N). Are you alright?” He asked, tilting her head.

        “I just need to do some work, Sam.” She muttered.

        “Oh…well! We need some oak to upgrade the hotel, can you please do that?” He questioned.

        “Sure, Sam.” She nodded, her axe already on her hip.

        She got…Tommy’s last upgrade done as he had gotten everything else and the hotel was even more beautiful. She wished he could see it…

        “I’ll be in the grove…down there.” She pointed, unable to say below her old home.

        She left, Sam Nook watching her nervously but let her be. She sighed as she gripped her axe as she got to the oak woods. Gazing up, she could see the power tower and her mouth twitched at wistful memories.

        “Fuck this shit.” She muttered before slamming her axe into the tree.

        It wasn’t a good day.

        (Y/N) just felt terrible. She was upset with the happy memories, wishing she could make more with her father. Michael made it worse sometimes, especially when she had to babysit for Tubbo. She often wondered what Tommy would think about the little baby, how he’d probably call himself the best uncle just as she would call herself the best cousin. She by no means hated the precious thing but some days, it made her angry and she had to leave the house.

        It was one of those days obviously with her horrible mood. She was angry that Tubbo seemed to move on so easily. He got a kid with Ranboo and she felt…like nothing. Tubbo spent time with that kid. She was his niece, she felt like shit. Why couldn’t he focus on her too and help her?

        She jumped as the cracking of the tree sounded and she moved back as it tumbled over. She ran a hand through her hair, she only gave it ten swings. She really was in a mood.

        “Damn brat. Fucking Tubbo.” She mumbled under her breath as she separated the wood.

        Ranboo and Tubbo had become practically inseparable too and that pissed her off to think about too. Tubbo was Tommy’s best friend!

        “FUCK!” She screamed slamming the axe in the wood, putting her hands on her knees. “Fuck…”

        She sighed.

        “Get your head together.” She told herself. “Get those ghosts out.”

        Taking a shaky breath, she started to hum Mellohi quietly under her breath as she picked up the axe and went back to work without another outburst.

        Gathering up the wood, she went back towards the hotel, trying to force a smile on her face. She walked past Tubbo’s inn though and it didn’t help her mood.

        “Could have helped me with the hotel instead.” She grumbled to herself.

        She came up to the door, ready to open it but paused seeing it already opened a crack. Sam Nook made sure it was always closed. He didn’t like taking care of mobs. So, she took out her sword as she slowly stepped forward, lowering the bag of wood on the floor outside. Pushing the door open all the way, she carefully peered in before her sword clattered on the crowd.

        Tommy screamed in panic, holding up his hands in defense but stopped seeing the wide-eyed look of his little (F/L). Her eyes looked so dull and she looked so tired.

        “(Y/N), are you alright?” He asked, stepping forward.

        He didn’t get to say anything more as (Y/N) dashed forward, slamming into him as she hugged him tightly, sobbing into his chest.

        “I-I don’t care if this is a-a dream. I-I’m so happy to s-see you, daddy.”

        Tommy hugged her back just as tight, having missed the feeling of her in his arms.

        “It’s not a dream.” He muttered, putting his forehead on top of her head.

        It only made her cry harder and he squeezed her. She didn’t care how it happened. She didn’t care why it happened. She just cared it was him. That he was here.

        When the tears ran out, she caught her breath as he patted her back.

        “I’ve been taking care of the hotel for you.” She mumbled. “Sorry, you couldn’t see the upgrade.”

        “It’s alright, it looks good.” He smiled for the first time today. “And hey.”

        She looked up at him as he let her go taking her shoulders. He gave a grin as he ruffled her hair.

        “I love you too. I know you tried your hardest to get me out.”

        Her body felt numb but stiff at the same time. “Y-You heard me?”

        He nodded. “I’m so proud of you.”

        A few stray tears managed out and he wiped them away. He had heard her final few words to him and it lifted a weight off of her.

        “Are you ok?” She asked now.

        He frowned now and she noticed the subtle movements she had gotten used to in order to try and help him.

        “You don’t have to talk about it. I just wanted to know; I see it was a bad question.”

        “It’s ok.” He patted her shoulder. “Why don’t we go home? I need to get my thoughts together.”

        “Alright.” She nodded, picking up her sword and putting it away on the way out, not noticing Tommy’s flinch when it was in her hand.

        He put his arm around her shoulder as they walked down the path to their home.

        “Hey, dad.” She started.

        “Yeah?”

        “…I’m happy you didn’t teach me to say goodbye.” She smiled lightly.

        Tommy couldn’t help the laugh as he understood the reference. “Yeah, I’m happy too. I’m not going anywhere again.”

        He didn’t tell her his plans to kill Dream for good, he didn’t plan on telling her anything of what happened.

        He was happy though; he was so happy she acted like this was normal and fine and he couldn’t be more grateful for her.

        He had missed his (Y/N).

[t0wnspersonb]

Day Off (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

Word Count: 2,158

Warnings: FLUFF, bad language, suggestive language, my shit writing lmao

Summary: You hardly ever got to spend time with your husband, so when he has a day off, well, your heart can’t help but be entirely full. Especially when you see him interacting with your children.

~~~~

Anonymous said:

Hello💜💜 I was wondering if you could make an fluff/smut imagine about where Bakugou where the reader is his beloved wife they both have kids and just shows how their daily lives are. Btw I’m a huge fan of your imagines🥰

~~~~

I hope you enjoy this request anon! I didn’t do smut this time around, but here is some fluffy papa Bakugou for you! Also thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so glad you like my shit writing lol.

I always enjoy writing fluffy shit like this lmao. I love Bakugou with all my fucking heart and I hope you guys enjoy this too!

~~~~

You loved your family, you would do anything for them, the unconditional love that you held in your heart was something that would never be questioned.

 But sometimes, you loved your alone time just a tad bit more.

 Like now. 

 The house was clean, the house was quiet; and you actually got to enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee, fresh and incredibly delicious for your sleep deprived senses.

 You were an early riser, maybe it was because of all the morning training and runs that Bakugou had forced you to do when you guys were younger, or maybe it was because when you had kids you had realized that there just wasn’t enough time in the day to get everything done. 

 Quite possibly it was the latter.

 But everything was done, the laundry, the dishes, sweeping and mopping, you had gone to the grocery store yesterday, a surprisingly pleasant trip since the kids were actually behaving for once.

 You owe it to your husband, who had gotten off of his hero duties early yesterday and had helped you around the house, and he was off today.

 The first time in a long time.

 You probably should’ve lingered in your shared bed just a little longer, you hardly had alone time with the explosion hero as it was, but… you had been dying to read the new book that you had gotten weeks ago. Bakugou could handle waking up alone for one day, right?

 “Are you fucking kidding me? You shit nerd, how long have you been doing this?” his familiar gruff voice sighed from the entrance of the living room.

 You glanced up from your book, a small smile tugging at your lips as you took in his sleepy figure.

 Bakugou’s blonde hair was even more disheveled, his sweats hung low on his hips, one of his large hands was underneath his shirt, absentmindedly scratching at the skin that stretched across his sculpted stomach.

 You took a lot of pleasure in the fact that you got to see the most popular pro hero so domestic, so casual.

 His ring caught the morning light streaming through the window, glinting beautifully as he stretched out his muscular arms above his head, his shirt rising up, exposing the lower half of his stomach to your greedy eyes. His biceps bulged out beautifully against the sleeves of his shirt.

 You also took pleasure in just staring at your husband, that beautiful specimen of a man was all yours.

 “What time is it?” you asked. 

 “Almost 9.” 

 “Hmmm. Since 4:30 then?” You pondered, placing your bookmark between the pages, and closing the book completely, placing it on the coffee table.

 Bakugou made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat as he padded off towards the kitchen.

 You laughed softly to yourself, following after the muscular male. 

 “Stop fucking staring at me.” Bakugou grumbled, vermilion eyes sliding over to you briefly as he drank down his glass of water.

 “Can’t a wife just look at her husband?” you asked innocently, he walked over to you, his hands coming down on either side of your face, squeezing your cheeks together tightly.

 “Not when the wife ditches her husband in the morning to read a stupid fucking book.” he sneered.

 You laughed, grabbing at his much larger hands, and pulling them away from your face.

 “I’m sorry Katsu, what can I do to make it up to you?” you teased lightly.

 You shouldn’t have asked.

 A wicked smirk stretched across his face. “Get on your knees.” his voice was husky, commanding as he stared at you, daring you to challenge him.

 You could feel your lips part at his words, a pink blush beginning to dust your cheeks.

 It had been a long time since you -

 “Mama?” 

 The moment was gone completely, the wide smirk that Bakugou wore turned into a deep scowl.

 “Good morning baby.” you cooed turning to look at your small child. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, but he was the sweetest boy, completely unlike his father.

 He rubbed at his small eyes before they landed on Bakugou, a sweet smile stretching across his face. 

 “Papa. Up.” he held out his little arms, urging Bakugou to pick him up.

 You could see the scowl visibly melting away from Bakugou’s face, replaced with a gentle one as he gazed at his son. 

 It was hard for Bakugou, being able to spend time with his children, despite how rough he was, how crude his words could be; he was a wonderful father, a wonderful husband.

 You were entirely lucky.

 Bakugou easily swung his child up into his muscular arms. Your son sighing in happiness as he rests his head against Bakugou’s broad shoulders, his thumb coming up to rest between his lips.

 The sight of the two of them together melted your heart completely, clenching tightly in your chest as Bakugou pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your son’s head.

 “Papa’s home today?” Another familiar voice spoke. You turned to see your daughter staring at Bakugou in curiosity.

 She was the oldest, and the spitting image of you, except… well her personality was entirely her father’s.

 “Why don’t you guys go watch some cartoons while I get breakfast started?” you hummed.

 “Come on you shit stain.” Bakugou ruffled his daughter’s hair, urging her out of the kitchen into the living room.

 You and your daughter frowned, you at the fact that he just called your child a shit stain, and her because he messed up her already messy hair.

 “Your breath smells like shit Papa.” your daughter said, tone annoyed as she shoved his hand away from her head.

 You sighed tiredly, hand resting on the side of your face.

 “Oi, you aren’t allowed to curse.” Bakugou scolded, a large tick mark appearing on his forehead and he grabbed your daughter’s head pushing her out of the kitchen.

 You could hear their loud bickering fading into the living room, causing you to sigh deeply once again. 

 But a smile twitched on your lips, it had been a long time since you guys got to enjoy the morning together like this.

 When you had finally finished cooking breakfast you went to go grab the rest of your family. 

 Your heart melted at the sight. Bakugou held both kids in his arms, your children looking incredibly small as they cuddled up against their father.

 Despite the fact that your eldest and Bakugou always fought, she was a daddy’s girl through and through. Bakugou’s fingers combed through her unruly hair absentmindedly, while his other hand rubbed up and down your son’s back.

 Their eyes were glued to the TV as some anime played.

 You cleared your throat, all three pairs of eyes flickering to your form. 

 “Breakfast is ready.” you smiled, watching as your little girl climbed off of Bakugou padding past you towards her seat in the kitchen. Bakugou lifted up your son, easily carrying him into the kitchen and setting him down on his highchair.

 “What should we do today?” you mused as you guys began eating, Bakugou was feeding your son, making a disgusted face when he spit the food back out.

 “I need new shoes for school mama.” Your daughter said, mouth full of food.

 Bakugou made another disgusted face, handing your daughter a napkin.

 “Wipe your face brat, and don’t talk with your mouth full.” He lectured. 

 “Can we go to the park today?” her eyes lit up, ignoring her father completely as she tossed the crumpled-up napkin at his face.

 “Don’t throw shit at me! Don’t ignore me either!” he growled, a tick mark appearing on his face once again.

 “I’m trying to talk to mama, and you keep interrupting, annoying papa.” she snapped back.

 You sighed. “No fighting you two. We should be able to go to the mall today....” you trailed off, trying to remember if there was anything important you had to do today.

 “I need more workout shirts, and new training gloves. Damn Deku borrowed mine and never returned them.” Bakugou said gruffly.

 “Then I guess we can all go on a trip today.” you smiled. “Let’s finish up and start getting ready.”

 ****

 You almost forgot what it was like to bring the entire family out, it had been too long since the last time you guys did something like this.

 Needless to say, you were already exhausted.

 It took forever to get everyone out of the house. Bakugou did his best to help get the kids ready but… between the constant fighting with him and your daughter and your son's endless crying about not wanting to go and not wanting to put on pants, and Bakugou’s attempts at intimacy as you got ready... well, you wanted to get this over with already.

 “What do you think?” your daughter asked, pointing her toe out, the Uravity themed shoes on full display for you.

 “Very pretty, do you want those ones?” you asked. 

 She nodded excitedly.

 “Why do you want round face’s shoes? Why not mine?” Bakugou grumbled, staring down at his daughter accusingly.

 “Yours are ugly papa. I don’t like the colors. Uravity is my favorite hero.” She said face blank as she stared at the blonde male.

 This was definitely a sight to see, considering that Bakugou had your son perched on his hip and he was glaring down at the small girl who was glaring right back at him.

 “Huh? Ground Zero isn’t your favorite hero?” he barked.

 “No. Uravity is.”

 “Well mama’s favorite hero is Ground Zero.” He smirked, eyes flickering over to you.

 “Actually, Red Riot is my favorite hero.” You teased, soft laughter escaping your lips as your husband’s face fell at the mention of his best friend.

 “Let’s go over here!” Your daughter said excitedly, the conversation completely abandoned as she took sight of the toy store across from the shoe store you guys were at.

 “Hold on. I still have to pay.” you said in amusement, walking over to the cashier.

 Bakugou stood next to you, one of his large hands resting on the small of your back. When you had finished paying and began trailing after your excited daughter, he leaned in close.

 “You’re getting punished for saying that.” Bakugou growled near your ear. 

 “Is that a promise?” you challenged, ignoring the blush in your cheeks and the pleasant twist that occurred in the pit of your stomach.

 “You can count on it.” he growled, a smirk playing on his lips before he walked off to catch up with your daughter.

 You were definitely looking forward to it.

 ****

 You sighed loudly as you sat down on the park bench. 

 “Here.” Bakugou handed you one of the drinks he got from the vending machine, his eyes never leaving his children that were now playing on the playground equipment.

 “Did you have fun today?” you asked, resting your head against his shoulder as he took a seat beside you.

 “No.” he snorted, and then his expression changed, his eyes softening completely, his face relaxed. “It’s been a while since we got to spend the day together.”

 His large fingers found your own, intertwining together tightly. “Thank you.”

 You glanced over at him curiously. “For what?”

 You could see a soft blush coating his cheeks. He was embarrassed. It wasn’t anything new though, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was terrible at verbally expressing his feelings. 

 “You’re a good mother, and a good wife. Thank you for always taking care of the kids… and me.” he grumbled.

 Your expression softened, your heart warming completely. It was rare when Bakugou praised you like this, again, he was terrible at expressing his feelings verbally, especially something so gentle and heartfelt like this.

 “Of course, Katsu.” you beamed at him.

 He scoffed at your expression, but reached for you, cupping the side of your face as he stooped low, pressing his mouth against yours carefully.

 You hummed low in your throat; eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him back. Sweet and gentle, incredibly warm and full of love.

 “Ew. You actually let papa do that? That’s disgusting.” You broke free from the kiss and turned to see your daughter staring at you guys in disgust. 

 You laughed softly at her comment, Bakugou on the other hand…

 “Aren’t you supposed to be watching your brother?” he asked, eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

 “No wonder Deku is the number 1 hero.” Your daughter muttered to herself before turning to walk away.

 “What the fuck did you just say you shit?” Bakugou growled, standing up and swooping down, easily throwing your daughter over his shoulders.

 She squealed loudly, contagious giggles escaping her lips as Bakugou jogged over to the playground. He scooped up your other child, swinging him around rapidly.

 A soft smile twitched at your lips as you watched them.

 You loved your little family.

[talesofstyles]

Stitches and Pucks

i swear i tried writing the whole fic from the 3rd and 2nd pov in the beginning but hockey harry is so dang loud he’s like hang on honey this is MY story so let me tell this one ☠️ so here we are. i had loads of fun getting inside his head though, i hope you like it!

massive thank you to my biggest cheerleader @smokeinherperfume 🥺💛 and ken i’m so sorry for making you read an LA Kings fic 😂 @emotionally-imbruised

warning: smut. there’s no actual bow chicka wow wow stuff though but there’s some thigh riding 👀

[17k]

Harry

I swear I’m gonna kill Zayn.

That fucker just slammed my face into the boards, and as I’m trying to push back while flexing my jaw because that’s the right thing to do when you’ve got your face smashed into the boards, he tries to push me back again. Well, not a fucking chance. I give a particularly hard push back to get him off my back and I’m able to free my stick from the boards and put the blade to ice.

Because we’re playing on home ice here at Staples Center and I know its speed and consistency like the back of my hand, it takes nothing but a short tap on the puck and it shoots back between both of our legs. We scrabble, throwing elbows and shoulders and even kicking at it with our skates to expel it out. It’s a hard-fought battle, probably not lasting more than a few seconds, but it’s starting to wind me up because fuck if I’m gonna let them score. We’re up 4-2 against The Sharks, and with only under six minutes left to play in the game, I’d like to keep it that way.

I really don’t see it coming. And as much as we hate each other’s guts, it probably wasn’t even intentional, but it still hurts like a mother when Zayn’s stick pops upward, the end catching me just above my left eyebrow. I don’t feel any pain at first, but red, blurred vision definitely lets me know I’ve got blood streaming down my face. The ref blows the whistle and the play stops as the penalty is called.

The pain hits me next, and I bend over at the waist, my clear eye watching as a stream of blood hits the ice and freezes. In just about a few seconds, I feel a towel covering the cut and I hear the new team doctor say, “alright… let’s get you off the ice.”

Her hand stays steady at my back as I lift up straight, taking the towel in my own hand to hold it in place. The doctor walks alongside me while I skate to the bench, which has an exit door on one end that will lead back to the locker room. A few of my teammates slap me on the shoulder as I walk past. Harvey, who plays the same position as me but on the second-line yells out, “get stitched up so you can come back out and kick his pansy ass.”

I can’t help but chuckle, because that’s exactly what I plan to do.

“Up on the table,” the doctor says briskly and I watch with my one good eye as she quickly starts preparing the necessary supplies. I hop up onto the table, and in just under four minutes, my very own Doctor McSteamy has my injury evaluated, lidocaine injected, and is now closing the cut with stitches.

Good grief, she’s a fucking vision. Has a slammin’ body too, which no doubt would feel fucking fantastic underneath me. She probably doesn’t even realise it, but she’s got her little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and I bet that’s something she does when she’s trying to concentrate on what she’s doing. I can feel my dick starting to twitch, so I close my eyes and get my mind out of the gutter before I get a hard-on. Fucking embarrassing.

When I’m sure I’ve got my downstairs head situation under control, I open my eyes again. She’s placing what I’m guessing the last suture on the cut and I make sure I put on my most dazzling smile as I look at her because I can be devastatingly charming when I want to be.

“Hey Doc,” I lean a bit closer to her when she’s done and murmur, “you should let me cook you dinner at my place tonight. You know, as a thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she replies without even looking towards me, preferring to busy herself with putting away the supplies that she used to tend to my cut. “I was just doing my job.”

“Alright then, no dinner at my place tonight,” I say with a sly smile. “But how about giving me your number so I can take you out sometime?”

She snorts in reply. “I’m not one of your puck bunnies.”

“No, you’re not,” I smirk at her. My tone is matter-of-fact when I add, “you’re one hot doctor.”

Not sure what I’m expecting, but this is definitely not it. Most women would blush and drop their knickers in an instant when I give them the tiniest bit of my attention, let alone a compliment, and let’s just say that’s why my bed is rarely empty. But it seems like my charms don’t work on this doctor since all I get is a fucking eye-roll.

“Are you always this forward?” She asks, still not looking at me.

“I’m a simple man, Doc,” I tell her with a shrug. “I see something I like, I go and get it.”

“Good for you,” she says dismissively, but I don’t miss the hint of amusement in her tone.

“Does that mean I get your number?”

She lets out a chuckle and finally turns to look at me. “That means I like your way of thinking.”

“So, no number?” I pout like a damn child, and apparently, the sight is hilarious to her. She throws her head back and laughs, and when she looks back to me, I get a wink.

“Sorry sunshine,” she smirks at me and I can’t help but ogle at her lips.

Perfect fucking lips.

“I don’t shit where I eat,” she adds.

Now, this is funny, so this time I’m the one tipping my head back laughing before I bring my gaze back to her. “You know our General Manager, Sloane Knightley?”

“Of course,” she replies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“She’s with Alex, right-winger,” I tell her with a grin. “Now, Brynne Adams, have you met her yet?”

“The Athletic Trainer?”

“That’s the one, and she’s dating Matt, left-winger.”

“What?” Her jaw drops and it’s the cutest fucking sight. I’ve always thought of myself as a tits-man, but apparently now I’m a jaws-man too.

“Oh I’m not done yet,” I smirk at her. “Sarah Jones, Head of Equipment Manager, do you know her?”

She nods. “I’ve met her twice.”

“She’s with Mitch, right defenseman. Now, you probably haven’t met this one yet, but our goalie, Adam, is the only one married between us first-line players. His wife, Rachel, is the head of our in-house legal team. So look around Doc, everyone’s bloody shitting and eating around here,” I finish with a grin.

“Yeah, that doesn’t change a thing,” she insists. “That won’t be me.”

I give her one last glance as I hop off the table before I walk towards the door, pretty sure my eyes glitter with mischief as I say, “yeah, we’ll see, sunshine.”

—

The Owner’s Box is a local sports bar in El Segundo. Located only a stone’s throw away from the team’s practice facility at Toyota Sports Center, it has become the go-to hangout for a lot of the players ever since the facility opened in 2000. I like this place because it carries 140 types of beer and I like beer, and honestly the food is great as well.

As much as we like to mix and mingle with the fans, which is super fucking cool in my opinion, the manager always ropes off an area on the second floor for the players so we can drink and chill out without fans swamping us. Usually when we arrive, we’ll hang around the first-floor bar area for a bit to give the fans an opportunity to take pictures and ask for autographs before we head upstairs.

It’s always crowded after the game because everyone knows they can find us here, but it always gets extra busy whenever we win. Tonight, there’s an actual line of people waiting to get inside.

I nod at a bouncer and enter, and it takes me a good half an hour to make it to the second floor where I find several of my teammates sitting at some of the tables or standing around talking.

Winding around tables, teammates, and hot women since several puck bunnies have been allowed to go up the second floor and are doing their best to get noticed by the players wearing outfits that fit them like a second skin, I make my way over to Alex and Matt who are already sitting at one of the tables nursing their beers. Those two are my best friends since we’re linemates, but normally I’d go stand over with the single guys and start my selection process for whatever woman who’d warm my bed for the night.

Not tonight though. Never thought this day would come but I’m not here for a hookup tonight.

Alex gives me a knowing grin as I sit down since I told him in the locker room after the game about my exchange with the hot doctor earlier when she tended to my cut and how she turned me down. Well, he and several other of my teammates since there were a few there in the locker room with us and they had ears to listen. I’m pretty sure I could even hear Mitch chuckle, which is honestly one of the world’s seven wonders since the guy barely talks let alone laughs.

“How’s that cut feeling?” Matt asks as I take a seat in front of him.

“Feels like a butterfly kissed me there,” I tell him, which gets a deep belly laugh from both him and Alex. We hockey players would never admit to being hurt in a fight. Ever.

The voices in the second floor immediately go silent and I see all eyes swing towards the stairs, and when I look there I see our General Manager walks in alongside Coach Higgins, followed by some staff of the team. Cheers start ringing as she walks towards our table, no doubt to sit next to her man, and then I hear a low chant, “Sloane! Sloane! Sloane! Sloane!”

Matt and I do the same since not only Sloane is more of a close friend rather than a boss who signs our paycheck once she steps outside of the GM office, but as the only female GM in the league, she managed to turn our team into champions. We won the Stanley Cup last season and no doubt she’s going to push us to victory again this season. Alex has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as his gaze focuses on his girl, looking so damn proud of her. Man, my best friend is fucking whipped.

Sloane blushes, slides a grin to Alex, and when the sound dissipates and the guys all start sitting back down, she says, “shut up you big jerks, do you want me to cry?”

We all bark in laughter.

I stand up to give her access to the booth so she can sit between Alex and I, and Alex immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders when she’s within his reach to pull her closer to him and proceeds to give her a searing kiss. I whip my head at Matt and we both make a fake gagging noise.

“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Matt says and Alex flips him off, still giving his woman a hell of a kiss and without even looking at us.

“I know, right? Not used to you being so fucking mushy mate,” I add. “Gives me the willies.”

Sloane laughs as she breaks the kiss. She leans over and playfully punches me in the arm. “You’ll have a good woman one day, Harry.”

“Yeah,” I drawl, then I give a faux shudder to make sure they understand I like being single. “No thanks.”

“You sure?” Matt cocks an eyebrow, but before I can reply, something behind me catches his attention. “Ooh, isn’t that the new doctor?”

I whip around so fast I fucking knock a bottle of ketchup off the table and it goes flying across the floor. Matt is laughing so damn hard he almost falls off from the booth, Alex is leaning over as he laughs, pressing one palm down on the sofa with the other to his ribs as if they hurt from laughing and Sloane is dabbing at her eyes as she laughs hysterically.

But yes, holy shit, that’s the doctor stepping off the stairs and onto the second floor with Brynne and Sarah. Now, I know Brynne will most definitely walk towards our table since Matt is here, but Sarah will most definitely walk towards the bar where Mitch is talking with some other guys.

Come here. Come here. Come here.

Fuck, she goes with Sarah to the bar.

“Oh no,” Alex says low and in warning. “I know that look.”

I don’t bother to give him my attention, keeping my eyes pinned on my girl. But I do ask him, “what look?”

“Your gaze just became predatory,” he says with a laugh.

“God, you have it bad for her,” Sloane teases but I ignore her as I stand up. Brynne gives me a wink when I walk past her and now I have a suspicion that my teammates blabbed to their women about what happened earlier tonight and now they’re trying to set me and the hot doctor up. Otherwise, why would she even be here? Fucking crazy, I know, but they’re all nuts.

“Go get her, tiger!” Matt quips as I walk towards the bar without looking back at their table.

The doctor has ditched the white lab coat that she wore earlier tonight at the arena, and I’m glad she has her back to me since I don’t make a secret of my ogling. My eyes are pinned to her ass in those skinny jeans and fucks sake I need to get a grip.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine,” I say with a smile as I stand next to her, trying to get her attention. That was lame, I know, and I feel like I want to punch myself for not being cool.

She laughs and fuck if that’s not the best sound in the world. It’s warm, rich, and husky, which warms my blood and speaks to my dick for some reason. Not sure if she’s laughing because she genuinely thinks I’m funny or is that just a pity laugh, but honestly I could listen to her laughing all day. Wouldn’t be opposed to hearing her moan one day, preferably with her underneath me, but if her laugh is all I can get at this moment then I’ll take it.

“Can I get you a drink?” I ask her and I mentally prepare myself for her to decline since she turned me down earlier in the arena, so it totally takes me by surprise when she only shrugs and says, “eh, why not.”

I’m sure my smile is ten times wider and she sees it. “What’s your poison?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“What if I want the hard stuff?” I raise a single brow. “Sure you want that?”

“What?” She smirks at me and my inner caveman is screaming for me at the sight to just throw her over my shoulder and take her home right this instant. But obviously I won’t do that, since I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping and I know I won’t look good in prison stripes. “You don’t think I can take it?”

“Oh honey, I know you can take it,” I laugh as I lift my finger to the bartender. “I’m only wondering how you’ll handle it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

—

It’s three hours and many beers later, well for her anyway since I limit myself at two because I’m driving, and we’re stumbling out of the bar, laughing our asses off.

She’s telling me about the funniest thing that happened at the hospital a few months ago. At the beginning they thought they had a domestic situation because the couple came separately; one via ambulance and one via police car. But when they finally got the whole story, it turned out to be an anniversary celebration gone wrong since the wife had a seizure when she was going down on her husband and bit down on him.

“Are you joking?!” I stare at her, mouth gaping in astonishment before I burst out laughing hysterically.

She shakes her head and laughs with me. “I wish.”

“Did you manage to save his manhood?” I ask with a half-grin and half grimace.

“My colleague did,” she replies. “I was busy with the wife, she had rather extensive head trauma.”

“From the seizure?”

“Well, in panic and pain, her husband didn’t think much and just grabbed the closest thing he could find to try to get her to loosen her bite, which sadly was an old rotary style telephone and hit her in the head with it. She was okay in the end, though.”

“That’s one hell of an anniversary to remember for sure,” I chuckle, and the giggle she emits pretty much confirms she’s bladdered. Well, not the kind of drunk where she wouldn’t remember tonight I’m sure, but I bet she’ll wake up with a massive headache.

“I sure hope you’re not driving,” I say as I steady her by the elbow when she wobbles as we step down the stairs.

“Sarah, Brynne and I took an Uber here from the arena earlier,” she mutters as she pulls out her phone from her handbag.

“Let me drive you home,” I quickly say before she gets the chance to order a ride. Not sure why I did that because I certainly have never offered women a ride home without the promise of getting in their knickers, and I can assure you that I won’t be getting anywhere near hers tonight, but maybe I just don’t want this night to end yet.

We’ve been glued at the hip from the moment I bought her first drink, and three hours purely just talking with the same woman? That’s a record in my book. While I’m not ashamed to admit that I also like looking at her, honestly, to me that’s just an added bonus. I think it’s safe to say that I have never met anyone like her before. Granted, with most women usually there wasn’t much talking, but from what I learnt in just the span of three hours is that this doctor of mine is a hell of a lot of fun.

I swear she’s just a pure fucking joy to be around. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. She’s bright and witty and she’s one of those people that knows no strangers. She can easily talk about anything from politics to sports even to crude jokes, and add on to that, she’s just so kind and inclusive that several times tonight I actually had to drag her away to one of the back tables so we could have a proper chat without the crowd around us.

“You don’t have to,” she gives me a hesitantly sweet smile.

“But I want to,” I gallantly insist as I turn and offer my arm to her. “Come on, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

“Well, alright then,” she smirks, her hand easily slides into the crook of my elbow. “I could save a few bucks.”

I roll my eyes and tease her, “didn’t take you to be such a skinflint.”

“Hey!” She playfully slaps my arm with her other hand as she laughs and I’m glad I amuse her.

No, seriously... I like her laugh.

There’s no doubt that she wants me, just as there’s no doubt that I totally want her. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on all night, and plenty of innuendo, but I won’t be surprised nor disappointed if she doesn’t invite me inside when we get to her home and nothing happens tonight.

We’ll get there, I’m sure.

Until then, I’m completely fine drinking beer, being her personal chauffeur, and getting to know her a little better.

—

We always finish team practice with battle drills. From the end zone face-off spot to either the left or right of the goalie, we pair up and battle for a goal. One on offense, the other on defense, we shoulder, bump, and juke our way across the short distance to the net. It’s a four to five second drill that will make us sweat, and then it’s over. We skate to the end of the line, where we wait to do it again.

“Saw you left with the new doctor last night,” says Matt, my battle partner today, with a shit-eating grin as he taps his stick against my leg. “How was she?”

I ignore his question not only because I don’t have the answer that he’s looking for because nothing really happened after I dropped her in front of her house, but also because this feels different. She is different. Had it been just another one night stand, I wouldn’t think twice before I blab all about the dirty details with my teammates. Great lays, lousy lays, I honestly have no filter and I tell them all.

But this is YN, and fuck if I know why and what this really means. All I know for sure is that I want more than to just tap that. The thing is, my teammates will probably not understand because they can’t really see past the fact that the new doctor is a gorgeous woman who I’ve been lusting after for about a week.

“Dude,” Matt says to get a reaction from me, smacking me a little bit harder with his stick. “How many times did you score her last night?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl.

“Whoa, dude,” he apologises and I swear his grin gets even wider. “Sorry. I guess you’re serious about her?”

“Serious about what?” Alex pipes up from in front of us. He’s paired with Adam, our goalie. There are four pairs of skaters in front of Matt and me, but there’s an equal number on the other side. We’re alternating.

“None of your fucking business,” I mutter, willing the line we’re in to go faster so I can escape from my nosy teammates and head to the doctor’s office.

Alex and Adam take off, Alex with the puck. They ram their shoulders into each other, legs braced and skates digging hard all the way to the net.

“Did you at least kiss her?” Matt nudges me with a sly grin, still trying. Man, he’s not a quitter.

“No,” I answer shortly, hoping that will satisfy him. “Just dropped her at her house and left after I made sure she got inside safely.”

“No. Fucking. Way,” he quips dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my teammate?”

Play continues, the next set of skaters in our line taking off and I ignore Matt but apparently he’s not done poking his nose in my business. “Oh, we’re not done yet buddy. Let’s go out tonight so we can squeeze some more gos out of you. Just you, Alex and I, how does that sound? Brynne said the girls are going to have a girls night out so I know he’ll be game.”

The girls means my teammates’ better halves, and honestly, hanging out with just my bros does sound good. Don’t get me wrong, those girls are cool—yes, my boss, Sloane, included—and they’re fun to hang out with. My teammates sure hit the jackpots with their women. But before Sloane and Brynne came along, the three of us were thick as thieves. There was a time where we went out almost every night and that’s why we’re more like brothers than teammates. Sometimes I miss that since we don’t get the chance to do it as often now that they act like old married couples, so yes, this does sound nice.

However, as tempting as it sounds, I want to hang out with my hot doctor more than my mates. That is if she’ll have me though.

“I can’t,” I say, clearing my throat. I lean in towards him and whisper, “I want to take YN out to dinner tonight.”

“Seriously,” he drawls dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

Again, I ignore his comment.

“Alright, I guess that’s a definite no to dinner with me and Alex then, huh?” Matt says in an exaggeratedly glum tone.

“The doctor is way prettier than you,” I reply blandly.

“Fine, go on your date,” he says with a slap on my back. “But I want to book some time with my best friend in the near future if it’s not too much trouble.”

“We’re going on a four day road trip in two weeks,” I mutter as I roll my eyes at him. “I’ll snuggle you then.”

Matt sidles up to me, lays his head on my shoulder, and bats his eyelashes. “Oooh, I can’t wait.”

I shove him off with a chuckle. That bastard.

—

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,” I say after two knocks on her office door. I can hear her chuckle as she tells me to come in.

God, I have turned into such a dork. But I like hearing her laugh and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear that sound again and again.

“Hey,” she smiles at me as she looks up from her computer. “What’s wrong?”

“Knee’s a little sore,” I tell her, not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for my lie just so I can have a few moments to talk to her. “Thought you could take a look at it.”

Her brows draw inward with concern and she motions towards a table. “Did something happen?”

“Nah,” I shake my head as I hop onto the table with my legs hanging over the edge and kick off my slides. “Just came off the ice and noticed it.”

“Alright, go ahead and lie back,” she says as she turns to the sink and washes her hands. “I’m going to do some range-of-motion tests.”

I stay silent as she maneuvers my leg, trying not to focus too much on the feel of her soft hands against me or the smell of her perfume. Fuck, she smells good. Fruity and flowery. Like berries and the heart of rose and bitter wormwood, and the scent is fucking delicious.

“Do you feel any pain when I do this?” She asks with one hand on my calf, the other on my thigh as she rotates my knee.

“Not really,” I shake my head. What happens here today will go in my chart and I don’t want to call any attention to my knee.

“How about this?” She asks, rotating the opposite way.

I shake my head again. “Nope.”

The hand on my calf slides down, grasping the bottom of my foot firmly. With the other hand still holding onto my thigh, she pushes hard into my foot. “This cause any pain?”

“Nope,” I say quickly, and then add, “I think it’s nothing more than my muscles getting back in shape. But I figure some ice can’t hurt, right?”

She slowly lowers my leg and gives me a sweet smile. “Well, I don’t think anything’s loose or torn, but if you’re worried about it, I can schedule an appointment with Dr Green.”

She is the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, and hell I’m not about to do that. Talk about an unnecessary red flag. “I think it’s just a lack of conditioning. Got lazy this summer.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I nod firmly. “I just need some ice and I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well, alright then,” she says as she turns back to wash her hands again at the sink. “I’ll let Brynne know and have her prepare you an ice bath.”

“Oh hell no,” I quickly shake my head and grimace. “That bloody thing is pure torture and my balls will go into hibernation until next summer. Just an ice pack will do, Doc.”

She laughs again. “Okay, just an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”

She turns and heads through the door to the treatment room and I take a moment to admire her gracefulness as she moves. She looks delectable today in her scrubs, which are the typical light blue you see in the hospitals, and they hang on her tiny frame loosely. I’d actually never seen her in them before since she usually just wears normal clothes underneath her white lab coat in the arena, but I swear this might possibly be the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen her in. I’m sure that has to do with the fact that I respect her so much as a doctor that it just heightens my attraction to her, and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll play dress-up games with me in the bedroom when the time comes. Because, well… I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from her.

“Here you go,” she says when she comes back. “Scoot back on the table and stretch your leg out. Keep this on for twenty minutes, then you can go.”

She places a towel over my knee, then lays the bag of ice on top.

“Thanks, Doc,” I tell her.

“Just doing my job,” she quips, and then walks back over to the box of supplies she had been unloading.

“Well, you’re very good at it,” I add and I can hear her chuckle. But I got nothing in response, so I add, “speaking about good things… I had a good time last night.”

“Did you?” She quips, still not looking at me but I can hear from her tone that she’s smiling.

“Well, yeah,” I say with a confident nod. “Didn’t you?”

“Eh, it was alright,” she smirks at me over her shoulder as she walks towards her desk.

“I want to do that again,” I tell her nonchalantly before I ask with a lopsided grin that I hope she finds charming, “will you let me take you to dinner tonight?”

“I can’t,” she shakes her head as she turns to look at me.

“Why? Got a hot date already?”

“Nah,” she chuckles. “Sarah invited me to a girls night at her place. I wasn’t gonna go because they seem like a tight-knit group and I don’t want to intrude, but Sloane came by here earlier to ask me again and she’s bribing me with tacos and margaritas, and well… I can’t say no to both.”

“Fair enough,” I laugh. “But have fun then. They’re all really nice, you’ll fit right in.”

“Thanks,” she gives me an easy smile, and I hope it’s subtle enough that she doesn’t realise this, but my breath actually hitch a little while I stare at her lips.

“How about tomorrow night then?”

“Well-” she begins, but she’s cut short when she hears her pager beeping. “Oh shit, I need to go back to the hospital. You think you’re okay there? Go to Brynne if you need something else.”

“Okay, don’t worry,” I tell her with an encouraging smile. “You go and save some lives, Doc.”

—

The arena is packed, the fans are at a fever pitch, and we’re in the midst of a fierce battle with the Anaheim Ducks. We’d taken them on in the first round of the playoffs last season, and while we swept them, they’re still a formidable opponent. Not to mention there’s a long-standing rivalry between the two teams, and add on to that, we’re in the regular season now so every win counts. The pressure is on.

As a center, I’m a shooter, not a fighter. That means I’m relied on to score, not to play defense or get tough with other players. My body is too valuable to mess it up in a slugfest, so I’m rarely enticed into a fight. Sometimes it takes everything in me to keep my cool, but I know I’ve got to trust Mitch and Marcel, our defensemen.

Just like right now. We’re late in the second period tonight, and one of the Ducks players, Jeff Azoff, is being a dick. He cross-checked me in the back, not strong enough to slam me into the boards, but it was enough to alert Mitch who’s skating right behind us.

“Do that again and I’m going to kick your ass,” I hear Mitch tell him. That guy doesn’t really talk, but he wouldn’t think twice before beating the hell out of someone if they mess with our team. He takes his job as a defenseman seriously. When he’s on the ice, nobody dares to touch his guys.

The fucker did it again, still not forceful enough for a penalty to be called, but Mitch was quick to drop his gloves and took on that Azoff guy. He kicked his ass good.

Man, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. Mitch is a badass. Unfortunately though, the fucker did land a lucky hit to his temple and his skin split just to the side of his eyebrow. Knowing Mitch, that will be nothing but a ten-minute trip to the treatment room where YN will stitch him up. I’m sure as hell he wouldn’t let her give him anaesthetic so he can get back on the ice as soon as possible. As I watch him skate towards the exit, I make a mental note in my head to buy him a beer tonight as a thank you.

The play resumed, and there are about forty seconds left on the clock before intermission. The Ducks are down 3-0, and they pull their goalie once they gain possession of the puck since they have nothing to lose. Luckily our stamina is stellar, so our legs are still fresh as we defend.

They pass the puck back and forth, looking for the long shot or a quick dump inside for a goal. My back is to Adam, our goalie, as I keep myself facing the action, letting my stick play loose.

The crowd’s screams escalate in tune to the clock ticking closer to zero. With a sharp flick of the wrist, the puck makes it past Alex, our right-winger, to the inside. Players crash the net, Marcel poke checks, and the biscuit shoots out towards me.

It’s a full-on breakaway as I shoot down the ice, one on one against the goalie.

Tap, tap, tap… back and forth… puck to blade of stick.

I close in on the goalie and juke left.

He goes left and I juke right.

He keeps going left, so I keep going right and flip the puck up and over his shoulder into the back of the net. The red light burns bright behind the net and the fans go wild. That was my third goal tonight, and it’s the perfect timing for intermission since there’s no way we can play with all the hats being thrown onto the ice.

It takes merely a second before I’ve got my teammates surrounding me. Alex, Matt, Marcel, Adam and Niall, one of the defensemen from the second line who’s filling in for Mitch. Pats of their gloved hands on my helmet, stick blades gently against my calves.

We skate to the gate that would lead us to our locker room. We all trudge there, taking up spots around the open space as we wait for Coach Higgins to address us. It’s what he does at the end of every period. If we play poorly, we get our asses handed to us. If we play stellar though, like tonight, he’d be effusive in his praise.

But as much as I’d love to hear nice things from the Coach, there’s nobody I want to see more than my very own Doctor McSteamy. And yes, just to put it out here since I’ve been calling the hot doctor by that nickname, I’ve got to admit that I did watch too much Grey’s Anatomy in the summer because there’s not much I could do during the off-season. My sister didn’t let me watch past season 10 though, because she said it’s not worth it.

“Need to get my knee taped,” I tell Alex on my right as I stand up. We have 17 minutes before we start the third period and I figure that should be enough time to see the Doctor and secure a date in the near future. “I’ll be right back.”

“Bullshit,” he grins and there’s a clear amusement in his eyes. “You want to see your girlfriend.”

“Shut up,” I growl.

“What’s this?” Matt asks curiously as he takes a seat next to Alex.

“Our buddy here wants to see his girlfriend,” Alex’s grin doesn’t lessen as he tilts his head at me. “Needs to get his knee taped, he said.”

“Conjugal visit in-between periods? Classy,” Matt says with a salacious grin and I glare at him. When his laughter dies down, he points out, “okay, jokes aside, that’s a shit excuse. If you really need your knee taped, you’d see Brynne and not YN.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing else here,” I grumble like a stroppy child. “Can’t hit my own head just to get a cut, can I?”

“That would be outright dumb,” Alex laughs. “But come on, I’ll go to Brynne and make up something so at least you can tell the doctor that she’s busy.”

The treatment room is just down the hall from the locker, and when I get there, I notice the door is half open. I see her sitting on the little desk with her computer, so I knock lightly on the door to get her attention.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Her head swings up when she hears my voice and it takes everything in me not to just march there and kiss the fuck out of her when she offers me the sweetest smile. Crazy how much effect this woman has on me. “I need my knee taped but Brynne’s busy.”

“Sure, I was just reading the players’ medical chart,” she replies. “You were on fire out there by the way.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I smile at her.

“Skates, socks, shin pads and pants off,” she says as she walks towards the supply cabinet.

“Jock strap too?” I can’t help but smirk.

“No,” she rolls her eyes playfully as she grabs a towel and hands it to me. “Put this over your lap.”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, yeah, unless you want me to get a peek of your dick.”

“You know I wouldn’t be averse to that, Doc,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows.

She gives me a school teacher, disapproving-type look but the slight twitch of amusement in the corner of her mouth is hard to miss. “You’re so bad.”

“You have no idea,” I grin, but she doesn’t see it because she has her back to me. She’s pulling another cabinet open to get adhesive, gauze and tape before knocking it close with her shoulder.

This is ridiculous but I’m actually a bit self-conscious of getting practically half naked in front of the hot doctor. I have absolutely no clue why and this had certainly never happened before.

I shed my gear from the waist down and she keeps her back to me until I get on the therapy table and the towel is covering my lap. She lays out her supplies on the table beside us, her slender fingers using a pair of scissors to open a new package of tape.

I take a moment to admire her as she cuts off uniform lengths of tape and attaches them to the table. She’s not in the scrubs I saw her in last week, but if you think I’d be disappointed, even just slightly, then you’d be wrong because you could put her in a burlap sack and to me she would still absolutely look edible.

Tonight, she’s rocking a mustard-yellow trouser suit with wide legs and a cross-over pleated blouse underneath her white lab coat. The crisscross swath of silk that wraps around her upper body does lovely things to her tits, and I realise I’m quite the pig to be thinking about her this way.

“Left knee?” She asks. “I’ve just finished reading your medical chart when you came in. Arthroscopic medical meniscus repair two years ago.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Sometimes it feels a little loose. A good taping is all it needs.”

“Any soreness?” She asks as she steps up in between my legs that dangle over the table.

I shake my head and say, “nope.”

“Clicking or popping?”

“Nope.”

“Locking?” She inquires as she lifts her face up to mine.

She’s fucking close enough I can smell her minty breath. I could easily kiss her, but I’d probably get kneed in the nuts, so I just shake my head and say, “nah, just feels a little loose.”

“Okay,” she says, laying a soft pat on my thigh. It’s nothing but a move of reassurance, but fuck if I don’t feel it all the way through my gut.

She grabs her supplies and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she gets to work taping my knee. It takes merely a few minutes, and then she finishes the wrap, holding the end while taping it with the precut pieces. “There you go,” she says, stepping back.

“I’ve got something to confess. My knee was absolutely fine,” I blurt out, the words popping out of my mouth so suddenly, I’ve got no clue where they came from. Clearly my subconscious decided to overtake my sensibility and make itself known. “I came here because I wanted to see you. Thought I’d try to get your phone number and a date one last time before I give up.”

She gives a tinkling laugh. “You’re not a quitter, are you?”

“Well, no,” I reply with a grin. “So, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven. How does that sound?”

“Listen,” she smiles at me sweetly as she begins, but I don’t like the sound of it. Nothing good ever comes after ‘listen’. “You’re a nice guy-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I cut her as I hold my hands up. “Don’t go with the ‘nice guy’ brush off. Clearly I’m not if you won’t give me the time of day.”

“I just don’t think we’re looking for the same thing-”

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“Look, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem more like the bang ‘em and leave ‘em type to me.”

“Is that really how people see me?” I ask her curiously, without an ounce of defense in my voice because there’s no point in denying that. I really don’t care what people think, but I’d like to hear her opinion.

“You’re a player, Harry,” she says with a chuckle. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young and in your prime. You should totally be sowing all your wild oats. It’s just… I’m at the point in my life where I realise that meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling. I don’t want that anymore.”

I feel a metaphorical light bulb goes off in my head.

I know she doesn’t mean to, but fuck, she hits me right where it hurts. She’s called that exactly right. This is something that I’ve actually realised and known for a while, especially after seeing my best mates being the happiest they’ve ever been after they found their women. There’s not an ounce of regret in what I did though, because just like my girl right here said, there’s nothing wrong with that. There was a time when burning my way through all the hot women in LA and having them take turns warming my bed had its appeal, but not anymore.

Maybe this is why I’ve been feeling unfulfilled lately. I know I’ve got a great career, more money than I could ever need in a lifetime and endless selection of gorgeous women to warm my bed every night. What more could a man possibly ask for, right? But at the end of the day, it’s just me in a monstrosity of a house that I call home.

Maybe deep down I know I don’t want it to be just me anymore.

“I think I’ve actually known that for a while, but the way you point that out, I think it’s drilled home now,” I admit as I face her.

“What do you mean?”

“That casual, meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling,” I say with a smile. “I mean, yes what I did was fun, but then I look at my best mates and see how happy they are with their women. Of course I rib them good because hey, that’s my job as their best mate…”

She laughs.

“...but that doesn’t mean I never look at them and think, fuck, I want that one day. Maybe the idea didn’t really appeal to me because I had never found the right person, who knows. But I swear I don’t want just sex with you. I want more. Do I know what I’m doing? Fuck, no. I haven’t even been on a proper date in years. But I do know that I genuinely want to get to know you better, Doc, that is if you give me the chance.”

She gives me a dopey smile when she asks, “you mean all that?”

“I really do,” I nod solemnly. “Now let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”

“Tell you what,” she begins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you go back on the ice and win the game, we can go to The Owner’s Box when you’re done to celebrate just like the other night. And if you behave, I’ll give you my number this time.”

“Want me to behave, huh?” I say teasingly with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Don’t fancy a bad boy?”

“Oh I actually have it bad for bad boys,” she smirks. “My favourite character in Harry Potter is Draco Malfoy.”

“Okay, I’ve got a counter offer,” I say as my laughter dies down. “If I get MVP tonight, which I’m pretty sure I will since you said it yourself that I’m on fire tonight, you give me your number straight away after the game and let me take you out to dinner. I’m thinking seven tomorrow night.”

Another roll of those gorgeous eyes that twinkle slightly at me. “Pushy, aren’t ya?”

“Only when I want something,” I tell her with a grin. “And I want you.”

“So do you want me or do you want to go out with me?” She asks slyly, tilting her head to the side.

“You gonna kick my balls if I say both?”

“I admire honesty,” she murmurs softly in that sexy, husky voice that seems to flow through my body and straight down to my dick.

“Hey boyfriend and girlfriend,” I hear Matt chirps from the doorway and my spine stiffens involuntarily. His shit-eating grin doesn’t lessen a bit even when I give him a glare. “Hate to steal your man, Doc, but the game is starting again soon and we kinda need our favourite asshole right here.”

“You two break a leg,” she chuckles. And then as an afterthought, she adds, “just so we’re clear, I don’t mean that literally.”

—

Manhattan Beach’s high-end strip of boutiques and restaurants are hugged by the beach on one side and some of California’s most expensive real estate on the other. It’s southern end blends seamlessly into smaller Hermosa Beach, which is similarly quiet but has a tight concentration of bars and restaurants near the town’s pier that attract bar-hoppers at night and sun-bleached dropouts during the day.

The Kings players’ houses are scattered evenly across the two towns. Some of us are clustered within a block or two of several teammates; others sprinkled little more than a mile or two away. All but one of the first-line players live in Manhattan Beach though, and we can easily walk or ride a beach cruiser to everyone else’s house.

YN lives in Silver Lake, and the drive to pick her up takes me about forty minutes. I know she must make a pretty good bank being an ER doctor, not to mention that she works at two places, but her house doesn’t scream that. It’s rather tiny, I’m betting not more than seven or eight hundred square feet max, and there’s not much of a porch but on the outer edge is a hanging basket of flowers.

There’s no doorbell so I rap my knuckles on the door. Flecks of peeling paint get knocked loose and fall to the concrete porch.

“Coming,” I hear her yell from inside and I can imagine her plopping in an earring, grabbing her handbag, and wondering if she turned the curling iron off. She sounds frazzled and rushed and I can’t wait to fucking see what she looks like when she opens the door.

And there she is.

She has a black dress on, and it’s not little but it’s spectacular. The neckline of the dress skims just below her collarbone so no skin or cleavage is exposed, but it doesn’t matter because the narrow waist and flared hips, all cocooned in black is sexy as shit. The hem of her dress comes down below her knees and the dress is so well fitted that I know there has to be a slit up the back so she can walk.

“Good grief you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I mutter as I let my eyes roam down and then back up again to find her smirking at me.

She’s got an off-white clutch bag tucked under an arm, and her head is leaning to the side so she can put her last earring in, exactly as I’d imagined.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, still smirking at me. I’d worn my best suit tonight in black with black shirt underneath and no tie. Glad she likes what she sees.

I step back so she can lock her door, and she turns to me as she tosses her keys in her clutch. I hold my arm out to her and ask, “ready?”

She nods and smiles as she curls her fingers in just below my biceps, then I escort her to my car.

I’m taking her to this new restaurant that both Alex and Matt recommended when I asked them last night for the finest restaurant in LA. It had been so long since the last time I took a woman out for a proper date, so I knew I needed to ask my mates and that they would have the answer. They both swore by this place called Apron, but then told me it took at least two weeks to get a reservation. Luckily though Alex had booked a table for him and Sloane tonight, and they gladly gave me the reservation. Sure I had to take a good deal of ribbing from my teammates and their women last night at the bar where we celebrated our win, but I knew it would be worth it.

The drive to the restaurant is short, only about ten minutes. And we lapse into the same easy conversation right away, just like we did the other night at The Owner’s Box. Today was my day off and I did absolutely nothing so I’ve got nothing interesting to tell, but she had plenty of exciting cases at the emergency room today, which included a toddler swallowing a penny.

“Holy shit, how did you get the coin out?” I ask her.

She laughs. “You don’t take it out. You’ve got to let the kid pass it naturally.”

“He can do that?”

“Well,” she begins. “I did take an X-ray first to make sure that it was small and could pass safely.”

“Okay, okay, okay… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to remove from a patient?” I ask her with childish curiosity.

“Honestly, I think I’ve removed everything on the surface of the earth,” she snickers. “Coke bottle, tapeworms, coins, candles, but the strangest has got to be a stuffed animal. It was a Curious George doll, and… let’s just say that he’s no longer curious.”

“You’re joking right?” I bark in laughter as I park my car. We’ve arrived and I swear that was the shortest ten minutes of my life. “I mean… who does that?!”

“I wish,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “You’d be surprised if you know how many weirdos out there.”

I’m still chuckling as I exit my car, then I walk over to the passenger side to get her. I hold my arm out to her, and her hand so very easily slides into the crook of my elbow.

“You don’t think I’m one of them, right?”

She gives me a playful shrug. “Well, I don’t know, you might be a weirdo... I mean, I don’t know you well enough yet.”

I give her a smart-ass smirk. “Let’s remedy that then.”

—

“How’s that one?” I ask her as I finish a mouthful of this chocolate thingy. It was a chocolate ball concoction the waiter had poured more hot chocolate over, which then melted the ball to reveal a raspberry chocolate torte inside. She had a bite, but it was too rich for her. I agree though, it was a lot of damn chocolate.

“You’ve got to try this,” she says, spearing the lemon meringue pie with her fork, top it with a little bit of pine nut ice cream and holding it over the table to me.

It’s a completely intimate move and one that I didn’t expect from her tonight. I mean, she was reluctant to go out with me in the beginning and needed some convincing, so I expected her to be reserved and cautious. But hell I’m not complaining.

I lean in and let her feed me the dessert. The flavours explode on my tongue and I think that’s the best we’ve had tonight.

I don’t normally indulge in dessert, but they all sound good so I told her we should order all the ones we like the sound of. Which was most of them except that cucumber mousse and pickle ice cream because those sound like disasters on a plate.

“Good, huh?” She asks with a smile.

“Really good,” I tell her. “I think I like that one best.”

“Finish it then,” she says as she pushes the plate towards me. “I can’t possibly take another bite. I’m stuffed to the brim.”

“Alright,” I say with a chuckle as I pull the plate closer to me. “So, when are you free again so I can take you out to another date?”

She chuckles. “We’re not even finished with this one.”

I roll my eyes at her, then I ask, “are you having a good time?”

Her smile turns dopey and I know she’s just as smitten with me as I am with her. “This is definitely the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“If we were finished, considering how things have gone, would you go out with me again?”

“I would.”

“Good,” I say with an emphatic nod. “So, weekend or weekdays? When will it work best for you?”

—

I slow the speed on the treadmill, taking me down from a brisk run to a slow walk so I can cool down. Normally I like to run outside in the morning, but I woke up late this morning and we had a team skate scheduled at ten, so I figured I’d just do my workout afterwards at the arena.

Only a few of us actually have a gym membership outside. Most of us prefer to work out at the arena because not only is the equipment better, but we also have an abundance of teammates to work out with and that’s always nice.

I walk for about five minutes to cool down, then I turn the machine off and wipe my face with a towel. I grab my phone and water bottle and turn for the barbells, as today I’m working my chest and shoulders. Mitch and Marcel are already lifting, both defensemen who tend to focus on brute strength versus speed and stamina, so I’m not surprised they didn’t go for the treadmill. I also see Matt there, and I bet Alex will join us too after he’s done cooling down.

“Have a nice run, princess?” Marcel asks dryly as I set my stuff down near the bench press.

“I’m not the one who has to prove my manhood by how much weight I can lift,” I return with a sly grin.

“Yeah, well, your manhood is in a dry spell,” he says as he loads some weight onto the bar. Pre the hot doctor, both Marcel and I were the only single guys in the first line. He’s just as much as a player—on and off the ice—as I was, but now I gladly pass the title to him.

“Not true,” Matt quips with a grin. “He went on a date last night.”

“No shit,” Marcel turns to me in astonishment. “With who?”

Before I can even answer Alex throws a quick glance at us, flashes a shit-eating grin, and yells from the treadmill, “the new doctor.”

“But I saw you two got pretty cosy at The Owner’s Box last week,” Marcel says, as if he’s still confused as hell.

“Well yeah, she was cool, so I took her out again,” I say firmly.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” He blinks at me. Eyes all round and not comprehending. “You never look at the same woman twice.”

“So?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Ooh, I get it,” he says with a smirk. “Pussy that good, huh?”

“Hey,” I cut in with a warning. “I’m not there yet.”

They all suddenly stop whatever they’re doing and turn to me with raised eyebrows. Yes, Mitch included, which I’m actually quite surprised.

“Whoa, hang on,” Marcel says. “You haven’t tapped that yet?”

“You’re serious?” Matt looks at me in disbelief. “Not even last night?”

“Dude, I gave you that reservation last night to give you the opportunity,” Alex says as he walks towards us. “I was genuinely worried about your balls.”

They’re still looking at me confused, but Adam howls with laughter. “Don’t listen to these pigs. Rachel and I took it real slow at the beginning of our relationship too, and I got to tell you, the anticipation was half the fun.”

It’s true. I’m in no rush with YN because I know we’ll get there sooner or later. I can be patient when I want to be, and right now I honestly want to. I want to prove to her that when I said I wanted to get to know her, I meant her as a person and not just carnally.

I could tell that I confused her last night when I dropped her off at her doorstep after our date. I gave her nothing but a soft, brief kiss to her cheek, then told her to get inside, lock up and get some rest. Sure, she was confused for a few seconds, but the smile that I got after she realised that I really did want to take things slow was so much more than worth it.

“So you think this thing with the hot doctor is going to go the distance?” Matt asks me.

“I do,” I say confidently. I’m not dumb enough not to realise that she hasn’t fully let her guard down yet for whatever reason. Maybe she’d been badly hurt in the past, maybe it’s my past that causes her to be a little bit sceptical, I mean... let’s be honest, I was a player through and through. But that doesn’t scare me though, because I know I’m in it for the long haul. So yes, I can say it with confidence that this thing between us is going to go the distance.

“Well, if you fuck it up, I’ve got the first crack at her,” Marcel says with a salacious grin. I don’t think twice before I grab my wet towel and throw it at him. It hits him right in the face, and my teammates howl with laughter.

All this talk about her makes me want to see her again. I’ve secured a second date last night for next Wednesday since that’s when both of us will be free, but that’s still four days away and I can’t wait that long. So I pull up my phone and type out a quick text to her.

Hey, what are you doing today?

I grab my water bottle and take a slug. Before I put my water bottle down, I already got a response. I need to go and get a new bed frame. Really can’t stand this old thing anymore.

I can’t help but chuckle. She did tell me last night about her bedroom set which was apparently really old, but she couldn’t get rid of it since it’d been in the family for a few generations and her grandmother gave it to her when she bought her house.

Want some company? I quickly type.

She’s just as fast in her response. You want to go with me buy a bed frame?

Well, yeah. I’ve finished the team skate this morning and will be done with my workout soon. I’ve got nothing to do after and I want to see you. I reply.

Alright then. She texts me back within a minute. But I’m on-call though so I can be called to the hospital any time.

Doesn’t matter, I still want to see you. I text her back. When can I pick you up?

Give me half an hour.

Perfect.

—

I’ve bought three houses in my twenty-seven years of life; the one I currently live in, one in Toronto when I was still with the Leafs before I got traded to the Kings and one for my mum back in London. And yet not once have I ever gone on a furniture shopping.

Until today.

That was something I never in a million years would have dreamed to do, simply because I hated shopping with a burning passion. Hell, I didn’t even buy things for my own house because I paid the previous owner to leave everything behind. That kind of thing was honestly just something that I would have never taken the time for.

And yet, in shuffling through my memories, I really can’t remember having such a great time before. All I know is that I don’t want the day to end, and I also know that it has everything to do with the company.

I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and technically we’ve only been on one date even though we saw each other quite often at the arena. But there was nothing odd when my hand would find its way to her thigh, or when she’d drape her arm across my shoulders so her fingers could play with my hair as we cruised along from one furniture shop to another. I love that we’re at ease with each other as if we’d known each other forever, not to mention that she’s also one of the easiest women I’ve had the pleasure of talking to in a long time.

Sadly though, it had to end when she was called to the hospital. Luckily, it was just in time after she chose a particular bed frame that she liked. It’s a classic canopy bed in live-edge oakwood with a brushed brass iron base, and I felt like a pig because even as we were still at the shop, I was already thinking about which ties from my collection would work best.

They offered same-day delivery since they had it in the storage, and since she was needed at the hospital, I offered to wait for the delivery at her home for her. She agreed, so she gave me her key after I dropped her at the hospital.

And here I am. Sitting on her bedroom floor trying to build this bloody nightmare because apparently they didn’t offer assembly service. I’ve been at it for an hour and a half now. Okay, no, more like an hour and ten minutes because I spent about twenty minutes fixing the sink in her en suite. I noticed the faucet was leaking, and I needed to step away from that bloody bed for a little anyway.

Now I don’t have another excuse, so I’m back on hammering one of the bazillion nails into the wood. I’m so focused on the task that I didn’t realise YN is home until I hear her chuckling as she walks into her bedroom and say, “you know, that is the kind of pounding that’s supposed to happen after you’re in the bed.”

I can’t help it. I fucking throw my head back and bust out laughing. “Sod off.”

“You don’t have to do it, that looks complicated. I’ll just hire someone to put it together tomorrow,” she says with a sweet smile. “Just get up and go sit on the couch. I just need to go to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll join you.”

“Yeah, that won’t do, Doc,” I say firmly. “I’ll still finish this bloody thing even if it kills me.”

“Stubborn,” she quips affectionately with a roll of her eyes as she heads towards her en suite.

“Smart-ass,” I reply with my eyes pinned to one of the million pieces of her bed frame, also with affection.  

“Harry?” She calls out from her en suite.

“Yeah?” I answer, when I look up, she’s leaning against the doorframe and looking at me confused.

“Am I crazy or did you actually fix my sink?” She asks with an arched eyebrow. “Because I swear the faucet still leaks a little this morning.”

“Yeah, I did,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I needed to walk away from this for a minute and when I went to your en suite, I noticed it leaked. Not a big deal though, took me only about fifteen minutes.”

“Well, good to know that if you ever quit your day job, you have a career in plumbing,” she snickers. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do that, and you certainly don’t have to finish that.”

“It’s what any boyfriend would do, Doc,” I say with a nonchalant shrug.

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

“Yes I am,” I roll my eyes. “I took you on a date last night and I’m taking you out again on Wednesday. I’m not seeing anyone else, so that means we’re dating. And technically that makes me your boyfriend.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she sputters but I can see the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Besides… I might be seeing someone else.”

“You’re not,” I say with relative certainty.

“How did you change just like that is beyond me,” she murmurs, the appreciation in her voice evident.

I let out a chuckle. “Just get your butt in there and go chill on the couch after. I’m pretty sure I’ll be done in about half an hour, then we can order something for dinner.”

“Yes sir,” she says with a mock salute, which makes me snort.

—

An hour later, her bed is finally built and as I walk into her kitchen I see her putting the plates on the table. It smells phenomenal here, and I’m surprised when I look at the table because how the hell did she manage to cook all that in an hour?

I take advantage of her back facing me by putting my hands at her hips and pressing my chest onto her back. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck and it takes everything in me not to kiss her there. The combination of her perfume and the faint smell of antiseptic is sexy to me. So I can’t help but hum and mumble, “smells delicious.”

“The chicken?” She murmurs.

“Among other things,” I reply softly.

She chuckles. “Come on, let’s dig in while it’s still hot.”

I take a seat in front of her before I select a drumstick from a plate of fried, spicy goodness and put it on my plate. There’s something about the fact that YN made it that makes me believe it will be the best chicken I’ve ever had. Today will no doubt go down as one of the best days ever, which I seem to think a lot when I’m around this woman.

As she dishes me some salad, I honestly can’t wait anymore and take a bite of the chicken. Her eyes snap to me when I let out a groan.

“Good?” She asks with a grin.

I can’t help but let out another groan of approval as I take another bite. “Damn, Colonel, you never told me you make a mean fried chicken.”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” she shrugs smugly.

“Or a fine ass,” I tease. “If you want to quit your day job you can totally open up a fast food chain. Your fried chicken puts KFC to shame.”

She laughs as she cuts some cornbread and puts it on my plate. “Now try this, I make a mean cornbread too.”

“Mmm,” I say in pleasure as I take the first bite.

“Okay, you need to stop with the sexy moaning,” she grumbles with a tiny smirk before she turns back to her dinner. “You’re so bad. I think you’re trying to take advantage of me.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I laugh. “And besides, you’re just as bad.”

“True,” she replies with a sly smile. “I can be bad too.”

“But just how bad are we talking here?” I ask with a smirk.

“Not bad enough to sleep with you tonight,” she says before she takes a sip of water. After she swallows, she adds, “but totally bad enough I might get frisky with you.”

I give her a mock groan and look up to the ceiling. “A tease. I’ve saddled myself with a tease tonight.”

She laughs.

We talk about what she did at the hospital today as we eat, and her job in general, and it never fails to thrill me the things that she can do. She’s a jack of all trades when it comes to medicine, needing to be able to diagnose and stabilise, often in pressure-filled situations where time is of the essence. I can’t even imagine having the responsibility of someone’s life in my hands like that, and yet she seems to be able to leave it all behind. She talks openly and often with humour about her work, but she also admits that sometimes she can’t help but bear the burden of death too when her skills just don’t make a difference.

I admire her so fucking much. Never admired a woman before, but in fairness… I never looked too deeply at them.

I’m seeing YN through unfiltered eyes and I like everything that I’m seeing.

—

Something is squirming in my arms and it wakes me up.

I tighten my arm around it in response to the movement and pull it back slightly against my body.

Wait? What?

Sleep.

Couch.

We fell asleep on her couch while watching a film.

It all comes back in a rush. Our totally awesome conversation over equally awesome food she cooked that I couldn’t stop raving about all night. I had three pieces of chicken by the way. We talked more about our backgrounds, me growing up in Cheshire and her childhood in South Carolina. We had a few beers, and when she asked me if I wanted to stay a bit and watch a film or something, of course I said hell yes.

The fact that she asked made me smile, because it meant that she was having a good time too with me. So we ended up on her couch watching Jaws, and I liked that she didn’t even hesitate when I lay down on her couch, pressed my back against the cushions and patted the area in front of my hips. I’m pretty sure she can see the devilish gleam in my eyes when I said, “come on… let’s cuddle.”

“Wow… Harry Styles, big bad hockey player, shameless flirt, total panty dropper. Didn’t peg you as a cuddler.”

“I’m a big teddy bear, honey,” I said with a grin and open arms.

She fell asleep first, and I know I should’ve left but the slightest movement from me would definitely wake her up. I know she must be tired so I decided against it and closed my eyes instead.

“Morning,” she says in a husky, raspy, ‘I just woke up’ voice and it’s sexy as fuck.

“Morning,” I reply, my own voice is still rough with sleep. I wonder if she thinks that’s sexy too. “You slept good?”

“Mhmm,” she hums softly, but then immediately groans as she glances at the clock above the telly. “Ugh, I have to be in the hospital in about an hour.”

She then tries to extricate herself from my arms, but I pull her back in close and nuzzle her neck as I point out, “you work a lot.”

“Ha, tell me about it,” she says with a dry laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job. It’s just I wish I could sleep for three days straight sometimes.”

“Do you even have a day off in the week?” I ask curiously.

“I do,” she answers with a nod. “It was actually my day off yesterday, but I was filling in for a colleague.”

I loosen my hold and let her sit up in front of me. “Go get in the shower, I’ll make us both a quick breakfast.”

“You can cook?”

“Well, if I give you food poisoning you’re heading to the hospital anyway,” I chuckle.

In the kitchen, I grab some eggs and a pack of English muffins from her fridge. A quick breakfast sandwich sounds good, and portable just in case she needs to eat on her way to the hospital. I crack open a couple of eggs, scramble them with a fork and add salt and pepper while my skillet heats up. I put a bit of olive oil in the pan before I toss the English muffins into her toaster to crisp, then set coffee to brew in her Keurig. I’m moving around her kitchen as if I was born here.

By the time I pour the eggs into the pan, she walks out of her bedroom in her scrubs. I smile and nod at the Keurig as I say, “coffee’s ready.”

“And damn, you’re hot in those scrubs,” I add with a grin, giving the eggs a last scramble before pulling them off the heat.

“You’re joking right?” She says, wrinkling her nose as she grabs the milk from the fridge and turns my way, letting the door swing shut on its own.

“I’m serious, Doc,” I say with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from you. Preferably in your new canopy bed though so I can tie you up after for a payback.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s eight in the morning,” she laughs and I snort in return.

She then pours some milk in her coffee, pulls the cup to her mouth, and blows across the steaming surface. Her eyes meet mine over the edge of the cup as she takes a tentative sip. “Are we still on for Wednesday?”

“Of course,” I say with a confident smile.

“What have you got planned?”

“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” I tease her. “Just to warn you though, I may or may not gonna put my hands all over you.”

I don’t tell her that by putting my hands all over her, I mean on the ice to keep her from falling since I plan to take her ice-skating on the team’s practice rink. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, and besides, I’d be lying if I said I never thought of other ways too. The way she’s looking at me right now assures me that she does too, and well, that’s good.

We can compare notes on that later when we get there.

—

Blinking at me with a sleepy smile on her face, YN stands up from my couch. I walk up to her and she pushes me down into her seat, and then crawls onto my lap.

This is nice.

Our date on Wednesday was amazing, and as we walked inside, she turned to me and asked, “so this was your big plan to put your hands on me?”

I just laughed in response, and I did have to put my hands on her quite a lot in the end since she didn’t know how to ice-skate. Fuck if I’m complaining though.

Now we’re snuggled up on the couch at my house with full bellies. Last weekend she cooked me amazing food, so today, I wanted to impress her by cooking a roast dinner and introduced her to Yorkshire pudding. Sure, I was on the phone with my mum the entire time so she could give me directions, but I only almost burnt down my kitchen once so I’d call that a success.

I lean forward, which pushes her slightly to the edge of the couch, then I reach an arm over her and grab a packet of KitKat from the coffee table. I’m glad when I learnt that it is actually her favourite chocolate too, because KitKat is elite and it’s good to know we’re on the same page.

“Want another?” I ask her.

“No,” she groans. “I’m so full.”

I chuckle and awkwardly unwrap the chocolate. Awkward because I have to open it in front of her face since I have my arms around her, and once I got it opened, I hold the naked little chocolate bars in front of her mouth and tease, “want a bite?”

She shakes her head.

I wave it under her nose and I guess the smell of the chocolate changes her mind because then she says, “okay, a little bite.”

I break the bars and feed one of it to her, letting her take a bite and then chucks the rest in my mouth. We chew silently as we watch Marlin looking for Nemo, and I sigh in contentment when she tucks her face into my neck and drapes one arm across my chest.

It takes no more than ten minutes before I notice her breathing has slowed down and she’s fallen asleep. I rest my cheek on the top of her head and continue watching these fishies. I’m a little drowsy from all the food, but I resist the urge to fall under. For now, I just want to savour my existence at this moment because as Dory says to Marlin, “I look at you and I’m home”, I truly realise that’s how she makes me feel.

I’m sitting in my house, but for once, it doesn’t feel empty anymore. I just had a wonderful meal where we talked and joked and flirted, and now I have a gorgeous woman who I’m crazy about curled up on my lap.

There is absolutely no other place I’d rather be right now.

—

“Dude, you’re so fucking whipped,” Alex says as he punches me on the shoulder. I jerk slightly and reluctantly take my gaze off YN to look his way.

“What do you mean?�� I ask as I take a swig of my beer and promptly look back at my girl. She’s standing just ten feet away, sipping on her own beer and talking animatedly with Sloane and Brynne. We’re at The Owner’s Box tonight having our first triple date, and I’m having a brilliant time. The only thing better would be if YN would quit chatting with the girls and get her sweet ass over here to sit next to me.

“Fucking hopeless,” Matt mutters and Alex snickers.

I blink and turn to look at them. “What? Why am I hopeless?”

“Because you can’t fucking take your eyes off of your girl for more than two seconds,” Alex jeers at me. Then he leans in towards me and murmurs with a mocking sneer, “pussy.”

“Bollocks that,” I say haughtily. “I can take my eyes off of her longer than that.”

“Good,” Matt says, handing me an empty beer bottle. “Go get us some more beer.”

“Assholes,” I say with good nature and head towards the bar. Stopping beside my girl, I kiss her on the temple. “You girls want anything else to drink?”

Sloane and Brynne shake their heads, smiling coyly at me as they watch my uncharacteristic display of affection. I’m immensely pleased when YN smiles at me and rests her hand on my chest. “I’m good, but thank you.”

“Be right back,” I tell the girls, and then I set out to prove Alex and Matt wrong.

I swivel my gaze back to Matt and Alex, and I give a sheepish grin when Matt mouths the word pussy at me. I flip him off and head towards the bar, intent on not looking back at my girl for at least the next few minutes it takes me to get the beers.

“Excuse me,” I hear and feel a tap on my shoulder. “Harry, can we get an autograph and a picture?”

As I turn around with a warm smile in my place, the word sure is out of my mouth before I even see who’s asking. I’m met by a vision of holy hotness as two women stand there with tight-as-hell t-shirts cut obscenely low and with plenty of silicone boobs pouring out.

Just a mere month ago, I would have whispered a prayer of thanks to the big man upstairs for sending these two my way, knowing well that I’d be banging the hell out of one of them before the night was finished. Instead, my stomach tightens and I glance past them to see YN still deep in conversation with Sloane and Brynne.

I bring my gaze back to the women… a brunette and a blonde, both looking at me with promise in their eyes.

“Do you mind taking your picture with us?” The blonde asks with a bat of her eyelashes.

I give her a quick smile and say, “sure, no problem.”

She steps up to me as she hands her phone to the brunette. I lift my arm to sling it companionably around her shoulders, but she uses that opportunity to press intimately into my side, bringing both arms around my waist and mashing her breasts against my ribs.

“Thanks so much,” the blonde says in a seductive voice. “Can we buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” I decline with a smile. “I’ve got some friends waiting for me.”

“An autograph, then?” She asks.

“Sure.”

The blonde digs in her handbag and pulls out a sharpie. She then hands it to me and says, “can you make mine out to Kourtney with a K?”

“You got it,” I say, eager to get this over with because it feels awkward to me to have this woman coming onto me with my girl standing just a few feet away.

“Just sign here,” she says and my jaw drops as she pulls the edge of her t-shirt down her chest, practically exposing her entire right breast to me.

“Uh, you got a piece of paper instead?” I ask her. “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that.”

“You bet your ass she won’t,” I hear my girl quips from behind me and I’m trying my best not to laugh. I like that she immediately snuggles into my side so those women now would have no doubt that I’m totally hers, “wanna go play some pool, baby? Loser buys the drinks.”

“You’re on,” I tell her, Kourtney with a K and her friend are long forgotten. “But just to warn you, I’m really good.”

“Honey, I was practically born on one of these tables with a beer in my hand,” she says smugly, “you’re going down.”

—

“Do you want to come in?” YN asks as she pulls out her keys from her handbag. We’ve just got back from The Owner’s Box and as usual, I walk her to the door.

My tone is low, soft, and barely audible when I say, “Doc, if I come inside tonight, I don’t think I can promise you to keep my hands to myself.”

“I don’t want you to promise me anything,” she replies firmly. “Whatever happens, happens. Now, let’s not dawdle on my porch and get inside. Want some more beers?”

“Whoa, don’t hand me ammunition,” I joke and she laughs. “I’ll take some water though.”

“There’s some water bottles in the fridge,” she says, pointing to the tiny kitchen that sits at the rear of the house, past the living room. “I’ll be right back.”

I get two bottles of water out of the fridge and head back into her living room. I take a seat on the couch and pull out my phone, scrolling mindlessly as I wait for my girl.

When she reappears, she’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a white t-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail and her makeup has been washed off. Her in a t-shirt and tiny shorts is a hundred times sexier than her in literally anything else—yes, including her scrubs—and there’s no stopping my downstairs head from waking up.

“Come here.”

Her eyebrows rise, but I don’t miss the clear interest in her eyes. “Come there?”

I tap my thigh, “right here.”

Her cheeks flush and a little puff of breath blows out of her. With absolutely no hesitation, she crawls onto my lap. Our gazes are locked tight and her eyes darken with intensity. When her chest comes level with mine, and her knees are pressed into the cushion just inches from my crotch, she asks me softly, “you going to finally kiss me?”

“I’m thinking about it,” I tease her as my hands come around her lower back, pressing her onto me.

Fuck, she feels good against me. Just her soft curves and warmth and I’m already starting to get hard before I even lay my mouth on hers.

She looks at me with sizzling eyes as we stare at each other, knowing that once we take this step, our relationship is going to another level.

Leaving one hand on her lower back, I slide the other up and over the shoulder, letting my palm glide up her neck so my fingers can tangle in her hair. She shivers when my thumb strokes her jaw before I cup my hand around the back of her head.

Her hands reach out and circle behind my neck. Then she whispers as she licks her lower lip, “so this is it?”

“This is it,” I tell her, and because I absolutely cannot wait one second longer, I put pressure on the back of her head to lock our mouths together. The first touch of her lips against mine causes pleasure to punch straight through my groin, and the world just absolutely melts away.

There’s nothing else but her.

Lips so fucking soft, tongue tentative and sweet. Her hair silky to the touch and her skin warm as my hand snakes up just under the edge of her t-shirt.

She tilts her head, opens her mouth more and kisses me deeper. I groan and pull her tighter to me. My hand fists tighter into her hair, hampered by the hair tie somewhat but not giving a fuck. Her hips start to rotate slightly, rubbing herself along the top of my thigh. My dick gets achingly hard as she starts to make tiny sounds of need in the back of her throat.

My other hand slips down her back and palms her backside, then I give a tentative squeeze. I think she likes that, because her hips shift forward and she starts to grind her crotch on my leg. I press against her ass, encouraging her to keep moving against me. She does it again and shudders in my arms, so I know it’s hitting her in the right spot.

Pulling on her hair, I break the kiss just enough so I can growl at her, “get yourself off, darling. Right here. On my leg.”

Her eyes fly open and they’re full of fire and sexual need as they stare back at me. Her lips curve up in a wicked smile of acquiescence and I pull her back down to my mouth for a hard kiss.

She rotates her hips in circles, then alternates flexing back and forth. I clench my thigh muscle, wanting to give her as hard a surface as possible to stimulate herself. I slip my hand down the back of her shorts, finding bare skin. I squeeze and push her down on me, helping her to move faster on my leg.

She pants and moans softly as she works herself up. I have to force myself not to push my hand down further between her legs. I’m bound and determined not to go there yet, and besides, this is hot as fuck and completely satisfying to me.

She moves faster and faster, making tiny cries of yearning into my mouth as we kiss. Then she punches her pelvis down hard onto my thigh, going still for a moment before her entire body starts quaking in silent orgasm. I hear nothing but a soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips and slither over my tongue.

Her body goes limp in my arms. She lifts her head, our lips parting, and looks down at me with glazed eyes. I press my lips to her briefly just once more, before I pull my hand out of the back of her shorts and roll her body off me. As I stand up and hover over her for a minute, I see her cheeks flushed rosy and her nipples pebbled hard, even through her t-shirt.

Placing a hand on the couch cushion, I lower myself to her and brush my lips across her forehead. “Get a good night’s sleep.”

“Wait- you’re leaving?” She asks, confusion coating her expression.

“Yes,” is all I say.

“But-”

“I’ll take a cold shower when I get home, no worries,” I assure her with a smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I had a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells me, still looking like a wet noodle on the couch so I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.

“I did too,” I smile at her over my shoulder as I reach for her door.

It’s in this moment that I’m pretty sure I’m a goner for her.

—

I see the hottest, sexiest, most adorable doctor walking across the darkened parking lot towards me. Well, towards her car. Her head is tucked down and she looks tired. When she finally looks up and locks her eyes on me, the exhaustion melts away and I’m rewarded with a happy, welcoming smile from her.

“You really have to stop stalking me in parking lots,” she quips as she walks closer.

Then closer still until the tips of her shoes touch the tips of mine and she’s offering her mouth to me for a kiss. Obviously, I take it, because who wouldn’t? Her lips are perfect. She tastes like mint gum and smells faintly of antiseptic, and that right there is my favourite combo.

When she pulls back, she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and asks, “seriously, what are you doing here?”

“I wanna take you somewhere,” I tell her as I grab her hand and take her towards my car that’s parked the next row over.

“Where?”

“Just get in the car, Doc.”

“You’re being vague,” she says with an arched eyebrow. “Is this where you kidnap me, take my kidney and sell it on eBay?”

“This is where I’ll find a way to occupy that beautiful mouth of yours if you keep asking questions and ruin the surprise,” I tell her and she gives a tinkling laugh.

“Promises, promises,” she singsongs and I just roll my eyes.

It only takes about fifteen minutes from Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she works to the closest beach where I plan to take her for an impromptu picnic date night. We only had to stop by to get some pizza because I already have a cooler with a six-pack of beers loaded in the back of my car. It’s a little too late for sunset, but the purplish black of twilight is lush.

“The beach, huh,” she deadpans. “You brought me out here to seduce me?”

“You naughty girl,” I clutch a hand to my chest and make an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “That’s indecent exposure that is.”

She laughs as she opens the door of the car and hops out. I do the same, then I open the back door to pull out the pizza, blanket and the cooler with beers inside before letting her help by taking the blanket.

Somehow we have the beach to ourselves tonight, and she points out a nice spot for us to sit. I agree, so I let her spread out the blanket. After both of us have our butts firmly planted, side by side, facing the ocean, I take two beers out and hand one to her.

“Ooh, we’re going fancy tonight,” she says when she sees that I brought microbrews instead of cheap beer.

I chuckle as I open the pizza box and grab a slice of the cheesy goodness that will probably clog my artery, then we talk about our day as we eat. I tell her the funny things that happened at practice today, including a joke that Marcel told us in the locker room which most would probably find insulting, but I know my girl is used to locker room talk and would find it hilarious, and she tells me what she did in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy today that her lunch break lasted less than ten minutes.

“You never cease to amaze me, Doc,” I tell her honestly. “It’s so cool what you do for a living. Impressive as hell.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”

It’s completely dark by the time we finish our pizza, but the view is still lush since the moon is bright, causing the water to look like it’s covered in floating, crushed diamonds.

We’re silent as we sip our beers, and I love that we can sit in comfortable silence as well as talk for hours. It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other yet I just feel such a strong connection with her. I love that we’re so in tune with each other that sometimes we say the same things and steal lines from one another. We have a similar sense of humour and we can even exchange an inside joke with just a glance.

I loosen my hold of her when she pulls away from my side embrace. Her head swivels to me, and I can see the moon glittering in her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

“What?” I look at her in confusion.

“I misjudged you, Harry,” she says with a tender smile. “When you asked me out, I outright told you that you’re a player without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“And your assumption was right,” I tell her honestly with a light chuckle. “There is nothing to apologise for. It was common knowledge, I was a manwhore.”

She snorts. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

“Me too,” I squeeze her hand. “You didn’t misjudge me, Doc, you knew exactly the type of guy I used to be.”

She has a dreamy smile on her face when she says, “kiss me.”

“No, you come here and kiss me,” I say, and I’m pretty sure she can see my eyes sparkling with mischief.

She rolls her eyes and mutters “fine” under her breath as she plants her knees on the sides of my legs, but I don’t miss the light in her eyes which tells me that she likes the idea.

Closing her eyes, she dips her mouth to mine and now I’m wondering if the two years of jail time and a fine for indecent exposure is worth it if I were to take her right here right now.

—

We’re in New York for two away games in a row, tonight against the Rangers which we won 3-1, and tomorrow night against the Devils. I’m chuffed not only because we won and I played great, but I also had a great day today before the game with my girl. We didn’t do much since she wanted me to save my energy for the game tonight, but we did walk around our hotel and ended up napping on the couch in the room that I share with Marcel.

We all ride on the team bus that takes us from the hotel to the arena and back to the hotel after we finish the game. I wanted her to sit next to me, but for both trips, to the arena and back, she gave me a slight shake of her head and sat with the girls along with the rest of the staff in the front.

When I hop off the bus though, I see her waiting for me with a grin on her face. I kiss the fuck out of her, not caring about my teammates who whistle and yell, “get a room.”

“Which floor are you on again?” I ask her as we enter the lift. I want to walk her to her room just to spend a few minutes more with her.

Yeah, laugh all you want. I know I’m fucking whipped.

“Tenth,” she says, pulling her room key out of her handbag and hands it to me so I can scan it then tap the button on number ten.

“Wanna catch an early breakfast with me tomorrow?” I ask her as we approach her room that she shares with the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, Callie.

“Sure. What time?”

“We’re leaving for light skate practice at 9:30, so we should have plenty of time if we meet down there at 8:30.”

“Sounds good,” she nods as we reach her door.

There’s a handwritten note stuck in between the door and the jamb. She puts her key in the card slot, opens the door slightly, and snag the piece of paper. She opens it up and I look over her shoulder at the note as we read it silently together.

YN,

Marcel and Joslynn are hooking up and they’re in his room which means Harry has been kicked out. I’m going to sleep with Macy instead, so you and Harry can have this room. Unless you want Harry to go sleep with Macy?

No? Didn’t think so.

Have fun you two.

Callie

“This is Alex, Matt and Marcel’s doing,” I tell her with absolute certainty as she twists her neck to look at me. “I’ll just get an extra room for tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “You can sleep here. We’ve spent the night together before.”

“Yeah, but that was different. We fell asleep on the couch, it wasn’t intentional,” I point out. “I don’t trust myself sleeping in the same bed with you, Doc. I’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“Well, good,” she says, smiling mischievously. “Cause I’m done wait-”

That’s as far as she gets before I push her through the door, backing her into the room. My mouth hits her only moments before her legs hit the edge of the bed and we both go tumbling onto it.

This is when we realise there’s a huge box of condoms with 144 packs inside it in the middle of the bed. On the top, there’s another note and I recognise Matt’s handwriting on it.

You’re welcome by the way

“I freaking love your teammates,” she says with a laugh.

I guess I owe those fuckers some beers.

[ahtsumu]

vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: a year in review.

tag(s): fluff ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, kinda bad but i tried LOL ; wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy birthday to @bbytetsu​ ​! ik i said i wouldn’t write anything but i’m a woman of my own word. also sorry this isn’t geto LOL. anyway this is kinda different from anything i’ve ever done but i hope you like it! love u

1.

he walks past you and suddenly the world’s aflame.

“um,” you stutter, turning around with wide eyes. “excuse me?”

cool grey irises hold your gaze expectantly.

he’s gorgeous.

“i–” you falter. there’s no way you can describe the feeling that made you turn around. the gravitational pull that sometimes occurs between strangers. perhaps the clever tugging of two red strings. separate melodies that converge at whim on a concord. it’s all so abstract, but that’s what you’re good at.

to your surprise, he just smiles. “same.”

2.

learning miya osamu is like learning to whistle: either you get it or you don’t.

you get it.

you get that he’s not at all the serious, stony-faced man he makes himself out as. that he’s hot-headed and petty but doesn’t want to be. that just because he’s not laughing doesn’t mean he’s not amused.

miya osamu is the dead of night and all the mischief that happens during it.

3.

seven a.m. is too early. osamu isn’t sure how he used to get up even earlier for morning practice, but then he remembers that that was when he loved volleyball. either way, it’s seven a.m. and for some god-forsaken reason, miya osamu is going on a hike.

(god-forsaken is a bit dramatic. it’s not all that bad – he’s just grumpy in the morning. actually, to think of it, it’s not bad at all…)

“one cappuccino," he tells the barista. and then his eyes widen. smiling, he adds, “and a matcha latte, please.”

4.

it dawns upon you in the passenger seat of his car.

“what?” he asks, feeling your eyes on him as he drives.

“… nothing.”

“tell me,” he laughs, squeezing your hand with his free one.

“later,” you promise, feeling giddy with realization.

osamu hums, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

5.

the light from his laptop illuminates osamu’s darkened bedroom, bathing both of you in a subtle blue glow. osamu looks down at your body tucked into his side and smiles. he whispers your name. “are you awake?”

there’s no reply – just the steady stream of your shallow breaths.

maybe you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of your movie night but now that you have, osamu doesn’t have the heart to wake you. it’s late, it’s still a little cold outside at night, and it’s not like you’re busy tomorrow morning…

and maybe he doesn’t want you to go. carefully, osamu shifts around to make you both comfortable, slings an arm over your waist, and closes his eyes.

you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the swingy tune of twenties jazz.

6.

how do you know it’s love?

you tell him that he feels like a soft blanket and a rollercoaster ride at the same time.

he laughs and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest right where his heart is.

“that’s how i know,” he says.

7.

when you step into his apartment, the first thing you notice is the mouthwatering scent floating out of the kitchen.

“babe?” you call out.

a muffled “kitchen!” reaches your ears.

the kitchen’s a mess of ingredients. and in the middle of the mess is your boyfriend. lo and behold, miya osamu is yet again experimenting with new recipes for onigiri miya, mixing potential fillings in a large metal bowl, wearing the “kiss the chef” apron you bought him a while back. he takes a bite of the stuff on his spoon and looks up at the ceiling in thought. not a single muscle in his face twitches, probably because he isn’t sure what to think of it.

you clear your throat. “hey, you.”

smiling, osamu spins around. “hi, angel. can you taste this and tell me whatcha think?” he spoons out some more of the mixture in the bowl, holding it out for you to try.

“sure,” you say, and you ignore the spoon, pressing your lips to osamu’s for a kiss instead. when you pull away, you lick your lips and hum. “needs more salt.”

the grin on his face is absolutely charmed. “i thought so, too.”

8.

what most people get wrong about miya osamu is that he doesn’t talk much.

he does.

(“and i told her she had the wrong place, but that woman just wouldn’t leave,” he complains, pacing around your living room with so much force that you think you might have to check on the rug once he’s gone. “held up the entire line, too. so embarrassin’. and then she said she’d leave us a one-star review, which is ridiculous because it’s not like i could make her a burrito, right? jesus. so i told her to go fu–”

“babe,” you laugh, pulling him gently towards the sofa.

osamu sits down beside you and inhales deeply. “so i tell her to go fuck herself–” he pauses when your hand runs through his jet black hair. seconds later, you feel his firm body melt against your arms.

“well, go on,” you say with a giggle. “what happened after?”)

osamu just doesn’t talk to most people.

9.

and when he isn’t talking, he’s thinking.

“i saw something funny earlier. if you were a tortured poet,” you ask on the walk home, “what would be the cringey quote people know you for?”

osamu raises his brows and looks up at the sky. “hmm,” he says, grinning. the two of you continue walking as he mulls over your question. a few minutes later, he says, “take not my silence for a lack of thought. i am always thinking. i am haunted by the magnitude of thoughts i can never put to spoken word.”

you stop in your tracks. “that was actually good,” you say in disbelief. “what the hell? ‘magnitude’? seriously?”

he shrugs and slings an arm over your shoulder. “i’ve been readin’ lately. forbes said somethin’ about good leaders readin’ books’.”

“are you actually haunted, though? ‘cause you can always tal–”

“no,” osamu laughs. “i like my thoughts. and if i really like ‘em, i just say ‘em. it’s a simple and good life.”

10.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses up your neck.

the air’s thick with tension and want and he needs to be closer – he needs every inch of your bare skin touching his and even then that wouldn’t be close enough.

but it’d be a great place to start.

“god, you’re so beautiful.”

11.

when he steps into your bedroom, you don't even notice.

“hey,” osamu says, knocking on the door.

jumping in your seat, you whip your head around to face the intruder. “you scared me,” you sigh.

“i texted you this morning and it’s almost midnight now,” he says, frowning. “had me worried.” osamu walks to your desk and observes your work over your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head back against his chest. “this is due soon and i lost track of time. i’ve been at this since midnight last night.”

osamu’s frown deepens. “what?” he spins you around in your chair and studies your face with disbelief. but seeing the bags under your eyes and frazzled hair, he suddenly completely believes you. of course you’d procrastinate for days and then work yourself to the bone.

his firm hands find your shoulders and squeeze. “take a break.”

“‘samu–”

“or at least let me give you a little massage.”

12.

“when i stopped you in the street,” you say, “what was going through your mind?”

osamu laughs, the light sound melting into the mellow atmosphere of the restaurant. “nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“how romantic.”

“for the first time in my life,” he says, grey eyes twinkling, “my head went silent.”

he raises his glass of wine and takes a sip.

[jinkicake]

Don’t Ignore Me!

Kenma, Kuroo, Tendou when their s/o ignores them to play video games.

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Tendou Satori x Reader

Hi Anon,, thank you for requesting this!! I hope it is good,, happy first request!! I kinda wanted to make this a lot smuttier but you know.... sometimes I want to add crack.

SMUTTY

WC- 1,960

~~~

Kozume Kenma

First of all,, bold of us to assume that Kenma will give us the time of the day….

Plsss you all know he is streaming or on twitch or whatever the fuck gamers do

You really think Kenma is gonna be like “hey babe </333” NO, he has a village to create and villagers to befriend and a debt to pay off!!

Kenma probably goes through cycles where he is addicted to his games and then he starts missing you and becomes needy for your attention

Sweet angel boy will pout so hard if you ignore him for a video game,,, he’d be there standing in the door like…. Kisses? Spare coochie? 

Kenma would get annoyed very quickly if you ignore him, he will purposely become super clingy

Like he will cuddle into you, plop himself down on your lap and paw at your hands like a cat

He just wants your attention!!!

Kenma turns into a brat™,, like he will whine and pout but remain relatively quiet as you continue to play your game

The second you put it down or stop playing though,,, he will pounce on you~~

“(Y/N).” Kenma calls from the living room after putting his dead switch on the charger. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm before running his slender fingers through his dyed hair. Kenma slowly blinks as he looks around the small apartment for you, did you go somewhere?

Kenma walks into your shared bedroom and sees you perched up against the headboard with your laptop in your lap. His golden eyes widen slightly when he notices your bare legs, the only thing covering you is a pair of panties and his favorite hoodie, he swallows hard and quietly pads over to you. He crouches down beside the bed and places his chin on the mattress as he stares up at you pitifully. You don’t even glance at him.

“Kenma, I’m in the middle of fighting a raid, I’ll be done in like five minutes.” You mumble and continue to strain your eyes as you focus on the screen, your fingers are moving fast on the keyboard to move your character. Kenma doesn’t listen, instead, he crawls over you and cuddles up to your side. He rests his cheek on your shoulder and lazily throws an arm over your waist, his legs hook one of your own and he nearly moans at the feeling of your soft skin. “Kenma.”

You try to warn him, you can’t get distracted right now! Kenma ignores you once again and begins to rub circles into your hip with his thumb, he pushes his hips against your thigh and you tense when you feel the growing bulge grind into you. His long fingers toy with your panties and go between fingering the material and letting it snap against your skin.

“Kenma-“ You gasp as your character begins to lose a lot of health. Your boyfriend starts kissing along your neck, nipping at the skin, he smiles at the hoodie you have on. You always look so good in his clothes. The feeling of his legs woven between yours, the growing heat against your side, and his skillful fingers teasing you like this make it hard to focus. If you don’t stop soon, your character is surely going to die.

In a panic, you pause the game and save it before putting your computer on the floor. You try to calm yourself down but in a rage you turn to Kenma with furious eyes, pushing him back against the bed before straddling his hips.

“I don’t interrupt you when you play games so I hoped you would do the same with me.” Kenma swallows deeply and you begin to grind your clothed core along his aching cock. “Kenma, you need to be punished.”

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo is not going to take you ignoring him lightly, he will literally go insane

He will get so annoyed that a device has your attention and he doesn’t, he craves your attention so desperately

Please, if Kuroo sees you wearing panties…. He is going to go feral, it is like an instant boner

Your legs all out and on display for him~ leading up to his precious little oasis,,,, he wants to take a peak heheh

He is going to try and thirst trap you, walking around in only his boxers just to see if you stutter in your movements

Bruh when you don’t and instead yell at him to get away from the screen, his heart will break and his face will harden

Kuroo won’t hesitate to sit in-between your legs and start eating you out,,, you aren’t going to ignore him!!

Kuroo needs his attention!!!!

He is so busy and preoccupied with your legs that he doesn’t even notice that you are wearing his favorite hoodie,,,,, when he does notice….

Kuroo will fuck you into the couch, literally upside down,,,,,

“Tetsurou if you don’t get away from the fucking screen!” You snap at him, cursing as you nearly lose the car you were following. You have been playing gta for nearly four hours and your boyfriend has had enough, Kuroo wants to be the focus of your attention now.

His face hardens as he narrows his eyes at you, are you really that preoccupied with a game? Especially when he is standing in front of you, all bare just for your eyes. He knows you can see the tent in his boxers, the ache between his legs that he desperately needs you to relieve. Kuroo is done waiting for you, he knows you can focus on games for nearly ten hours straight. 

Your boyfriend walks over to you, his shoulders are rolled back and dominance emits off of him in waves. He doesn’t take his eyes away from yours as he lowers himself to the floor, Kuroo wastes no time in leaving soft kisses along your inner thighs. The touch is so gentle you can barely feel it but with the way your fingers are tightening around the controller, Kuroo can tell just how affected you are. He peaks his tongue out to lick a broad stripe of your skin up to the edge of your panties.

Your breath hitches and Kuroo has to refrain from reaching down and palming himself from the way your chest jolts. His hands hold your thighs open and he finally leans down to bring his mouth to your panties. Kuroo cheekily grabs the waistband between his teeth and pulls it back to let it snap against your skin before kissing your clit over the material.

“Don’t.” You threaten and Kuroo simply ignores you, instead he licks your slit over your panties. He smirks when he notices how damp your panties already are, now they’re completely ruined by his saliva and your essence. Kuroo innocently continues to lick lightly as he runs his eyes along your body, he stops completely when he notices the familiar clothing adorning your shoulders. Your boyfriend detaches himself from your core and stands up to his full height, he does not hesitate to take the remote from your hands and place it somewhere else. “Tetsurou-“

You growl angrily as you watch the way you lose the mission, being taunted by the ‘wasted’ screen. Kuroo pushes you down against the couch forcefully, catching you completely off guard, before settling over top of you.

“What’s this?” He pulls at the collar of the hoodie and your legs squeeze around his waist at the way he restricts your airflow. “This doesn’t belong to you, does it, baby girl?” Kuroo asks and you roll your eyes at his question, he pulls on the material tighter. “Acting like such a brat, daddy needs to teach you some manners.”

Tendou Satori

Ignore Tendou? Bold of you to assume you can ignore Tendou,, he simply won’t let you do it

Please, he will become the clingiest puppy every and trail everywhere after you

If Tendou finds you ignoring him for a game, he would become a pouting mess and would be so whiny as he begs for your attention

Now,,,, if he sees you in your panties and his favorite hoodie….. he will, without invitation, cuddle up against you and do everything to show you how happy he is~

“Oh, is this a little present for me?” Tendou would literally kiss the life out of you and have the dumbest smile on his face, he is so excited

And then you’re staring at him like…. What ,,,, he would pass out if you gave him the cold shoulder

How could his most precious angel, his sweet little love, ignore him so cruelly? He needs your affection now!!!

He would try cute little touches first to see if you’ll react but when that doesn’t work then he will bring out his ultimate plan

Tendou’s ultimate plan just includes kissing your neck and running his hands all over your body, basically anything he can do to make you flustered

You can’t ignore Tendou, you simply can’t ignore the bright ray of sunshine :’’’

“Ah, of course, I can come over Jumin!” You squeal and rollover on the bed, letting yourself bathe in the man’s deep voice. Tendou freezes inside the bathroom and glances at himself in the mirror trying to figure out who the hell you are talking to. Your boyfriend slowly dries himself off after his shower, trying to focus on more of what you are saying. He wants to hear the bastard you are talking to.

“I can’t wait for the future with you.” The low voice echos throughout the room and you screech, sitting up straight, your heart is beating so loudly in your chest at his words. Tendou feels his eye twitch, and in a fit of jealousy, he throws on some clean clothes before poking his head out of the bathroom. His red eyes zone in on where you are sitting on his bed, your thighs are pressed together with your hand over your racing heart and Tendou can’t even focus on the fact that you are in his favorite hoodie right now.

“Who are you talking to, (Y/N)?” He sings playfully but his voice comes out awfully tense and strained. You don’t even look up at him and instead wave him off with your hand before going back to your phone.

“Hush, I’m trying to hear him.” You mumble and curl up, bringing the phone close to your face.

“My love… Hearing your voice makes me desire the day I get to hold you in my arms and roll around the bed all day.” The track emits from your phone and you squeal loudly, tossing the device onto the bed before covering your blushing face with a pillow.

Tendou can only blink because he genuinely has no idea what is happening, he can’t even understand what the man is saying. He can’t control himself as he walks over to you, towering above you before pouncing. Tendou pins you to the bed, both of his hands are wrapped around your wrists with one of his long legs between your own. You try to push him off and whine for your phone but your boyfriend only tightens his grip.

“M-my phone,” You mumble weakly and Tendou swiftly captures your lips in a heated kiss. Your moans are muffled as he kisses you strongly, taking your bottom lip into his mouth and gently sucking before licking the plump area with his tongue. “Satori.” 

“He,” Tendou hovers his lips over yours and stares at you dangerously, motioning to your phone where the call with Jumin is just ending. “can listen.”

You have to refrain from rolling your eyes, you go to tell Tendou that it is just a game, but before you get the chance Tendou takes your lips as his own again. 

Maybe, you can tell him after~

~

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