#but uh…not great to ski in it

[slothquisitor]

I’ve got almost 8k written of the eldritch horror au but like…I’ve got soooooo many essays to grade this weekend, and I just want to keep working on it.

Real life is just not cooperating with the hobbies right now.

[autumnapricot]

Lestappies fed through Brazil!!!! How do you feel about this whole weekend? It was such a rollercoaster oh my god I hope you’re feeling better!

phew, the weekend was an emotional rollercoaster, as max said himself! i‘m happy i did end up tuning in for the race though!! also—lestappen content everywhere, we really were fed so good 😋

also, you see, lestappen lestappening and my faves doing well heals. flu and cold gone, seasonal depression gone, the sun is shining, the air is crisp, the colorful leaves are rustling their dance down the concrete streets—life is good.🥰🧚‍♂️

thank you for asking🤍

[marmotsomsierost]

I just made it about 50 seconds in this song before going 'wait what' so do me a favor, click the link and don't look at the description.

It's not a rickroll, that's too easy.

[vividxpages]

✩˚౨ৎ˚✩‧The Great War PART 1 ✩₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 2 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 1700

summary: Jace and you are lovers, but stand on opposite sides of the war, not allowed to see each other anymore. But love always finds a way. (inspired by “The Great War” by Taylor Swift)

warnings: angst, reader is Alicents's daughter, the Greens being a bad family, hurt/comfort!, kissing

a/n: help, I'm obsessed with this boy and every song starts to sound like a possible fic idea for him!!!

𓆩♡𓆪

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

Sometimes, you could only breathe above the clouds.

Up here on your dragon’s back, the trouble you left behind underneath you did not matter anymore. You thought of the castle that slowly poisoned you from the inside, the dark nights where you thought you were completely alone in the world with no comfort in reach but the memories you carried with yourself.

Once there had been laughter at the dinner table, the halls filled with the family you had not seen in months. Now, you only saw your brothers and your mother together in one room during council. You shuddered at the memory of today’s meeting, snuggling deeper into the saddle and closer to the dragon who kept you safe in the sky.

(“Maybe we should send our dear sister.” Your brother Aegon had proposed at some frustrating point of an endless council, taking a deep swig from the wine glass in front of him.

You had simply stared at him, silent. No one was really listening to you anyway and you were past the point of turning to your mother pleadingly. She was just as silent, always frowning, always doing nothing. “What do you mean, Aegon?”

“We can weaken them from the inside.” He had spoken to the others then, who at least looked so confused as you had felt. “Send them my little precious sister who a certain bastard son always had a weak spot for. I don’t see the problem if you kill him while you’re fuck-“

Your chair had screeched over the floor and fell down with a loud thud on the stone floor. You had clenched your hands into fists as you stood, fury in your eyes.

“Aegon, stop with such nonsense.” Alicent had said quietly, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You fled.)

You welcomed the tears on your cheeks like an old friend, letting them cool your skin as you stirred your dragon through the sky, opting to just turn right and never come back to Westeros.

But oh, how your heart still clung to them.

The family up north in the realm, the family you had lost forever in the middle of his conflict.

Suddenly, you felt your dragon tense and directed your attention to the west, where a shape of a big shadow flickered through the clouds. Your mind began to race with what you’d do if Aemond had followed you, always being damned to bring you back when you had strayed too far away from Kings Landing.

But this shadow was not big enough to be Vhagar.

And those dark curls did not belong to your brother.

You gasped as your dragon let out a recognizing screech, lunging forwards through the clouds until you and the other rider could almost touch at how close your beasts were.

Time seemed to slow down as they flew past each other, teasingly snapping at each other’s necks with the joy of being reunited, but there was no doubt. As you raced through the skies, you looked into your Jace’s eyes.

You let out a broken gasp and quickly looked over your shoulder, but he and Vermax were already out of reach, descending down beneath the clouds. And suddenly, you knew where he was going. You spurned your dragon on, the wind cutting into your skin as you raced after them, faster and faster until you let your dragon spread its wings for a quick landing by the beach Jacaerys had chosen.

Only the silver moonlight illuminated the shore by the cliffs, void of any other soul who could witness the forbidden reunion between the two of you. If you had been in company, Jacaerys would’ve already been dead or held captive.

But you were alone, for the first time in months.

You slid down your dragon’s back, nearly blind by the need to reach him, to throw yourself into his arms like you had dreamed so often.

When you had seen each other for the last time, there had not been a war yet.

And Luke had been still alive.

(You had cried for hours when Aemond had returned, blood still drying on Vhagar’s massive teeth. You had begged your mother to write a letter, just a simple letter to Jace, but everything at court had still been too fragile to do anything but be in shock over what had happened up there. It had nearly driven you mad, to know that somewhere Jace was suffering the loss of his little brother and there was nothing you could do to comfort him.)

Now, he was right there in front of you, leaving Vermax behind him and running towards you on the wet sand by the water. You broke out into a sprint as well, a disbelieving laugh that was anything but amused leaving your tight throat as his features became more and more clear to you.

You crashed together like two waves.

The embrace was nearly violent as his arms slung themselves around you, lifting you up and pressing you into him. There was no strength in your bones anymore and if Jace wouldn’t have held you so tightly, you would’ve crashed onto the ground, shattering into a million pieces.

Only Jace was holding you together right now.

He was everything you had been missing in those terrible weeks. He smelled like sea and wind and smoke and your hands shook as you combed through his wet curls, your tear-streaked face securely hidden in his neck.

You never wanted to let go of him and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

“Gods- my love…” He mumbled into your ear and you let out a choked sob as you held each other. It was like he could not decide where he wanted to touch you first. His hands drifted over you restlessly, up and down your spine, holding onto you as if you could disappear again at any moment.

“How did you find me?” You asked breathlessly, your bottom lip still trembling dangerously as you caressed his cheeks, needing to refamiliarize yourself with the feel of his skin on yours.

He swallowed thickly, unshed tears glistening in his beautiful years. “I remembered the route you liked to take when you needed to stop thinking. And it’s cloudy today. No one saw me coming. I’ve been waiting for a cloudy night like this for weeks-“

His voice broke and you pulled him closer again, shudders of pain and longing and relief to be with him going through you in an endless loop. How much had changed since the last time you had seen eye to eye: Your father had always said you’d make a good match back then and now Jace had one brother less and you were a captive in your own home.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out on the ocean. “I- oh Jace, I tried to write, I wanted to send you a letter, but- I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t help you and-“

“It’s okay.” He said, but it sounded lifeless, void. “It’s not your fault. I wished I could’ve been there for you too. I know how much you loved Luke.”

Gods, you wanted to cry and never stop again. Even now, Jace was trying to be strong for you, as he had always been.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” He told you and cupped your cheek, looking deeply and longingly into your eyes. “I missed you every second we’ve been apart. Have you been treated well? Have Aegon and Aemond-“

“I love you too. I want to come with you.” You interrupted him fiery and he shuddered at the insane idea of it, the consequences unimaginable and likely deadly for one of you. “Please, please, let me come with you, I can’t stay a single day there, my mother is not the same anymore and- my brothers have been horrible with the things they want to do to Rhaenyra and you.”

He shushed you gently, drawing his arms tighter around you and swaying you back and forth. “I’ll find a way. I’m not letting you stay there alone for much longer, my love. It makes me sick to think about you being alone in Kings Landing, believe me, but…mother says it’s not safe, not yet-“

“I won’t cause your family any trouble, I promise-“

“It’s not us we’re fearing for.” He smiled sadly at you. “It’s you. I won’t summon your brother’s anger on you. I’d rather take it on myself, but- we need to be a little more patient, okay?”

You could see how much effort those words cost him and you had no doubt if it was his choice to make, he’d take you with him to Dragonstone and never look back. You watched his throat bump with tension, his jaw set, his lips pressed together tightly.

A sudden small smile danced over your face. “So you only came to me tonight because you wanted to see me?”

His eyes were dark with longing, with wanton he could not give in to, not tonight. “My love...I needed to see you.” His thumb lovingly brushed over your cheek, the pad of it briefly touching your lips.

There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you needed to tell him and hear from him, but in this short moment you were only a girl and he was a boy. Your boy.

 He met you right in the middle, delicately holding your face between his hands as your lips met, desperately kissing you as his taste exploded in your mouth once again. He kissed you drunk, enveloping all your senses until all you felt was him. His lips were dry and salty from the long flight over the clouds and along the coast, your runny noses sliding against each other, but it was perfect.

Your heart was mended with every little sigh into your mouth, his long lashes brushing over your cheeks, your hands tangling in his hair…

You thought that maybe, in another lifetime, the two of you could’ve been able to stop the war.

Another part of you knew that you always had been damned, cursed.

You blinked into the starless grey sky above you as Jace began to ravish your neck with wet kisses and you thought of the old saying passed on from generation to generation.

Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

On which side would yours land if you ever lost him?

On which would his land when it finally sank in that he could never have you?

[hopelesswrites]

Music Boyfriend part 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.

Eddies POV

Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.

“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.

“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”

Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.

Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.

“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”

Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.

The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.

Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”

He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.

Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.

After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.

“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could

“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.

“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.

“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.

The answer was obvious.

-

Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.

“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.

Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.

“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.

He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.

“Out! Now!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.

“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.

“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.

Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.

If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).

Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.

Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.

“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?

“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”

Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.

“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”

Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.

“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.

“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.

“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”

Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.

Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.

“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.

“And treat your staff better”

Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”

Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.

“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.

“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.

“To your place”

Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?

“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.

“Am I fired?”

The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?

“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.

-

She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.

“My Dads on a trip and my Moms working a late shift, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.

She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.

“Where’s the beer?”

The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”

“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.

“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”

“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”

He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”

“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”

Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.

“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.

“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”

“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”

Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.

“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”

“Not really”

Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”

The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.

“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.

“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.

Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.

This was fucking bad.

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine wife but Sunday pfp smh

Lol but I have 101 pulls saved so far for Sunday so in celebration I would like to request Sunday with reader who gets him a gift to welcome him to the express. I'd probably do something hand made cause I think those kinds of presents are meaningful.

Welcome to the family, Sunday!

Summary: you create a handmade bracelet as a meaningful gift to welcome Sunday aboard the Astral Express. The bracelet, crafted with celestial beads and lavender thread, symbolizes connection and kindness. Though Sunday harbors a twisted belief in the Sweetdream Paradise, the gift resonates with him, leading to a quiet, shared moment of understanding between you two.

Tags: AE!Sunday x Reader, Handmade Gift, Emotional Connection, Gentle Romance.

A/N: SHHH!! 🫣 I'LL CHANGE IT SOON!! Take this in the meantime 🤲

The Astral Express hummed with the soft glow of stars as it sliced through the cosmos, an endless journey across the universe. You stood at the side of the locomotive, your hands fidgeting nervously. Today was important. Today, you would welcome Sunday—one of the most revered members of the Oak Family—aboard the train.

Though you knew Sunday as a man of great dignity and wisdom, you also knew there was more to him than the poised leader he projected to the world. His belief in the Sweetdream Paradise was something you couldn’t quite reconcile with, but you respected his view—no matter how different it was from your own. After all, there was a certain kind of pain in seeing the world with so much uncertainty.

But this gift… you hoped it would speak to him in a way that words never could.

You'd spent weeks working on it, carefully handcrafting each detail with a kind of tenderness that only you could understand. It wasn’t much—just a small, intricately woven bracelet—but it was imbued with something personal, something that could perhaps touch the hearts of those who wore it. The bracelet was made from pale silver thread, woven together with strands of glowing celestial beads, each one meant to symbolize a star that would never fall from the sky. You had used thread dyed a soft blue, the color of skies, which seemed fitting, considering Sunday's ethereal nature.

You glanced at the door to the cabin, waiting for his arrival.

When it finally slid open, there stood Sunday in his usual immaculate attire, the long tailcoat flowing elegantly behind him. His eyes flickered over the room, his expression a mix of curiosity and recognition as they landed on you.

"I see you’ve been waiting." he said softly, his voice carrying a certain calm authority, yet with an underlying gentleness.

You felt a flutter of warmth at the sight of him. You’d only spoken in passing since he had boarded the Astral Express, but today, there was something different in the air. Something intimate.

You cleared your throat, stepping forward slowly. "Yes, I have. I, uh, wanted to give you something… a small gift," you said, holding out the bracelet, the delicate glow of the celestial beads catching the light.

Sunday raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A gift?" he mused, taking the bracelet gently in his hands. His gaze softened as he examined it closely, the soft blue strands catching his attention.

"You don't have to accept it," you said quickly, a little embarrassed. "I just thought it might be meaningful—since, well, you're new here and all."

His fingers brushed over the beads as he looked up, and for a moment, his eyes met yours, piercing yet somehow gentle. "You believe in meaning behind these things," he said, almost to himself. His voice was softer now, as if he was considering something deeper.

"Yes, I do," you replied, your heart racing a little under the weight of his gaze. "Sometimes, a gift doesn’t have to be grand to carry meaning. I thought this might remind you that even in the vastness of the universe, you’re not alone. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself."

A faint smile played at the corners of Sunday’s lips, but it was not the usual serene, distant expression he wore. It was something softer, warmer. "You would choose such a gift for me," he said, his tone shifting slightly. "A reminder that, even in a world built on ideals of survival, there is kindness."

He turned the bracelet over in his fingers, lost in thought for a moment. "I suppose... I can accept this," he said, his voice gentle yet resolute. "Not as a symbol of weakness, but as a testament to the strength of connection."

You felt a rush of relief, even as your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t see it as an escape or an illusion—he understood it, in his own way. This gift, this simple gesture, was something that transcended the dream of a perfect world.

You smiled softly, watching as Sunday carefully slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, the delicate strands of blue and celestial beads now draping across his skin.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it. "For the kindness you’ve shown me. Perhaps... there is meaning beyond what I’ve dreamed."

You nodded, heart swelling with a quiet happiness. "No matter how far the stars may stretch, we’re all connected, Sunday. Even in the Sweetdream Paradise, you're not alone."

A flicker of something warm passed through his eyes, the glimmer of gold and navy that always seemed to hold a thousand unspoken truths. "No," he agreed, his voice carrying the weight of the cosmos. "Perhaps... we’re not."

As the Astral Express continued its journey through the vast, starlit expanse, you both stood together—silent, yet connected by a bond that neither the dream of paradise nor the harshness of reality could sever.

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[vrystalius]

How would Sanemi react if every time he and his crush were about to kiss, someone interrupted? He and his crush love each other, but they haven't confessed their feelings yet, so whenever they're alone, someone interrupts their romantic moment! 💚

Being interrupted while you’re trying to confess… again.

Note: Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sanemi x hashira!reader

You wanted to unwind after a long day of gruelling training and finally relax in the hotsprings for the rest of the evening. After removing your sweaty uniform and putting it aside, you stepped into the water

You let out a soft sigh after letting yourself get submerged. There’s no one else but you around, so you can swim around and splash in the warm water as much as you want.

But after finally setting down and leaning against the cooling rocks, you heard someone else enter the water. You lifted your head to glance at the person that joined you, only to find the wind hashira staring back at you.

Oh, great.

Sanemi was staring back at you with wide eyes. He slowly submerged himself into the water, hiding his naked body from you. His face flushed and his whole body stiffened.

You averted your eyes and looked the woods surrounding the springs, trying to ignore the hashira’s presence all together.

But surprisingly, Sanemi sat down right beside you. He crossed his muscular arms across his chest, not sparing a glance at you.

The tension was palpable and it was fairly awkward between you two.

“Do you come to the springs often?”

Sanemi spoke up, not looking at you, staring at the skies above. It felt like he was trying to avoid looking at you.

“Sometimes.”

You turned to look at him but glanced away quickly again.

“Great.”

“Mhm.”

Silence fell over both of you until you felt the water move around you. Sanemi turned to look at you, quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but kept quiet. You glanced back at him.

Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Your glistering skin was glowing and the warm light of the lanterns illuminated you in the most gorgeous way possible. You were looking at him through your lashes. You know what you’re doing to him, aren’t you? Sanemi’s face began to heat up and the words got stuck inside his throat again. He fell for you after watching you train for the first time but never admitted his feelings out loud to anyone. You’re probably going to reject him anyways, so why even try?

Gods, Sanemi has the body of the most refined warrior, you thought to yourself. Scars decorate his skin and his muscles are so tense and pronounced. His forearms were so large and defined, if Sanemi wanted to, he could easily toss you around. Not that you would mind. You have been crushing on him for a while now, just admiring him from afar. You were too nervous to act on your feelings.

You two were just staring at each other, admiring your bodies.

“Sanemi… I- uh.. wanted to tell you something. F-For a while now.”

You tried to seem as calm as possible. You and Sanemi were in this exact situation before two weeks ago. After you two were training and sparring together, you were just about to open up your heart to him when Kyojuro’s booming voice interrupted you, asking if you two would like to join the other hashira to go out and eat in a newly opened restaurant. You were so disappointed that you couldn’t confess to him that day…

But now, your heart was racing so quickly, you almost feared you’ll die on the spot before being able to confess. But you needed to get this off your chest for the sake of your sanity.

“Yeah?…”

Sanemi’s eyes widened slightly. Are you about to confess to him? That would be too good to be true, that way he doesn’t have to do it himself. Oh, please confess to him. He subconsciously leaned towards you and rested his weight on one arm. He felt your breath on his face.

“Uhm, I-I actually-“

“You two are here too!!”

The water rippled around you and Sanemi as the love hashira moved towards you two. Sanemi moved away from you again, turning his head away from you two. She joined sat down beside you. Mitsuri had a bright smile on her face, practically beaming at the both of you.

“I never knew you two liked it here!! I come here almost every night! The water is very good for your skin. I heard it even helps healing scar tissue, Shinazugawa-sama!”

Mitsuri leaned over, glancing at Sanemi and his scars. He was not looking back at her.

“‘m leaving.”

“Whaaa? Already? Did I interrupt something?”

Sanemi grumbled and moved away from you and Mitsuri, towards the exit. The love hashira pouted and glanced at you.

“What’s up with him?”

You just shrugged. Is the universe against you confessing your love to Sanemi for some reason?

💠

Ohhhh I liked writing this a lot! This was fun! Thank you for reading and I hoped you enjoyed reading it!

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care if yourselves!

[reareaotaku]

Bloody Home

Summary: You are search of your baby, not knowing the dangers that lie ahead of you Tw/Cw: Blood, Gore, Death, Horror, Y/n is Rose's Mother/Married to Ethan, Yandere Themes, NSFW Themes, Obsession, Dubious Consent Themes? [They talk about fucking reader and it's implied the reader has no say], Forced Cheating Word Count: 2k+

Pt II:___ | Pt III:___ | Pt IV:___ | Pt V:____ [Almost made Mother Miranda into Father Mark, but I changed my mind]

The land was dark and cold, causing shivers to run down your body. The misty skies did nothing to ease you as you made your way through the forest. As you look over the horizon, you see a large Victorian-style mansion. You felt a strange pull towards the mansion and you knew you had to go there.

You traveled through the seemingly abandoned village. The snow-covered ground soaked your shoes. You heard a gunshot and the sound of flapping wings. You quickly find yourself into a house to hide from the creature.

You hear growls and a loud scream before silence. You peak through an opening and see a wolf like man devouring the flesh of a human being. You cover your mouth to stop yourself from the scream that nearly escaped.

You run through the village, before you run into a witch like lady.

"In life and in death, we give glory..."

"Uh, hello? I don't know if you noticed, but there's these- uh- creatures. You shouldn't be out. It's not safe."

She does not respond and you look at her confused.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"Ah, it's you. The child's mother."

"Child? Do you mean Rose? My daughter is here? Where is she?"

"Rose, Rose, yes! She is in great danger. Since Mother Miranda brought her to the village, we have fallen into darkness."

"What are you talking about?"

Before the woman can respond, there is a chiming bell, causing your eyes to look up into the sky where the castle stood.

"The castle bell heralds danger. They're coming!"

"Who's coming? Whose Mother Miranda?" You try asking, but she shuts the gate on you, leaving you hoping for answers.

As you wonder around, you find this stone wall that led to the castle. It looked like it was missing two pieces and you probably had to find them. Luckily one was stored in a house nearby and you were led to Luiza house. Though, the doors were locked, frustrating you.

Thankfully you saw a little opening in the wall and where able to slip through and open the gate. Though as you opened it, you deemed the gesture pointless, as you were already inside. But, you were bombarded by a girl and her elderly father? who rushed in, thanking you for letting them in.

You knocked on the door, but no answer. The girl, Elena knocked, and a man opened the door with a shotgun to her face. He told her to hush, as she was drawing in the monsters. A woman's voice came from the back telling the man to let them in, but was confused when seeing you.

"You're not from the village?"

"No.. I'm uh, Y/n..."

"Well, if Elena trusts you... then so do I. Come inside, Y/n."

"Wait here, I'll check on the others."

You looked around the room, reading the letters and such, hoping the find the other piece of the stone wall. 'Mother Miranda' kept getting brought up and you were sure she was important. She didn't seem like any mother you had ever known and you sure were nothing like her. Just from what she had gathered, it seemed as if she was letting these creatures attacked the people here as she no longer saw any use for them.

You wondered if this Miranda woman knew how these creatures were made and if she allowed it to happened. They looked like they were once human, so you wondered if they were the humans from this village that had been experimented on- And now Mother Miranda had no use for the experiments and was letting the people die.

You shook your head, feeling the idea was stupid and over complex. Besides, it didn't make to much sense... But surely when did anything ever?

The lady, Luiza, lead you to the back where others where, but they didn't seem pleased to see you. They rebuked your involvement, thinking you would get them killed. Thankfully Luiza stood up for you.

"Please, Y/n, take a seat."

You were hesitant to sit down, but ultimately decided to, as to appease the others. You look around the room, before frowning.

"Are you all that's left? From the entire village?"

"All that's left? All that's left??"

You look towards the angry voice to see a man who looked angry. He stood and ran up on you.

"There is no one left! A worthless invalid! A stupid, wailing bitch- And you," He points to a lady in the corner.

'God,' You thought. 'Maybe those creatures should have taken this guy.'

"You drag a bloody man and an outsider in here like it's nothing... and expect us all to be safe?"

He goes on and on about how there is no safe, but you truly can pay his temper tantrum any mind. You needed that piece to open that wall so you could get your daughter back.

"That's enough! This house has protected my family for generations. And drunk or not, you re all welcome- and safe- in here."

"Whatever."

"What's even going on here?"

"We don't know. One day we were a quiet, devout village and the next the monsters came and attacked us. And they-they kept coming, and-"

"Wait, Luiza, where is your husband? Did they...?"

"No, n-no. He is out there... somewhere. He went to get help. Yes, yes, that's-that's it. He went to fetch help."

"Let us pray."

"For him... For all of us."

"Great one, hear our voice, together as one in reverence. We call on thee within the endless dark to deliver us into fate's hands. As the midnight moon rises on black wings, so we make our sacrifice and await the light at the end. In life and in death, we give glory, Mother Miranda."

"Now the tea should be ready."

As kind as some of the people had been, you truly wanted to find your daughter, not be stuck in some house.

"Come help me Elena, please."

That prayer- I've heard it before." You mumble mainly to yourself. There was an old woman near the graveyard."

"You mean the hag? Dumb bitch is crazy as a bag of rats."

His words didn't make much sense, as you had sensed something off about the woman.

"There is wisdom in her devotion, though." Luiza scolds the man. "And I hope it protected er as it shall protect us."

Leonardo laughs, before he falls on the table and the lattern falls, starting the light the carpet of fire.

"What the fuck are you doing?

"Leonardo, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

One of the men try to stop the fire and before you can help, you watch Leonardo stab Luiza with his machete. You run out the door, but the man gets ontop of you. Thankfully, Elena shots him, before the man can hurt you. She shoots him again when he tries to stand and you look at her in awe. You were impressed by this girl's skill.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, Father..."

"Hey, hey. That isn't your father anymore. You did the right thing."

She tries to go for her burning father, but the whole place was collapsing and you quickly pulled her back, knowing you'd want the same done for your daughter.

You looked around for a key, before finding it in one of the kitchen drawers. You nearly jump with glee when finding it. There was also a screw driver, though you weren't sure what for. You start the car, hoping to bust out.

You weren't able to get past the second wall and hear Elena call your name. You felt stupid that it hadn't worked. You saw an area where you could climb and grabbed her as you both headed up.

You go up, but fall through. Thankfully you see a window and see your way out. Elena is quick to jump to fear because of the monsters, but you tell her there is nothing to fear and that it's going to be okay. You tell her you'll find her a safe house until you find your daughter that you assume is in that old castle.

"No! That place is full of nothing but blood and death. And I don't want to be alone while you're-" She stops midsentence when seeing her father. "Father?"

"Elena, no! That's not him- not anymore!"

"Elena!"

"He said my name! Father!" She goes down and you try grabbing her, realizing it wasn't safe, but it was to late. They both fall to their death as you watched horrified.

You jump out the window, before jumping to the ground. You go over to the closed area and use the screwdriver to unlock it and grab the other stone piece.

You go to open the gate, only to hear gunshots, confusing you.

"Stop! Mother Miranda!"

You open the door to see a woman holding the man from before.

"Hey!" You yell, to no vain.

She then kills him, causing you to gasp. She laughs, before disappearing.

"Who was- what was that??"

You go through the grassy areas, before seeing the hag, becoming relieved, even if you had felt strange about her before.

"Death. Yes. Death has visited them all!" She then laughs, freaking you out a little. You decide to ignore her and head towards the wall, of which you put the last stone into. The walls open, causing you to cheer in glee.

You go across the bridge and are led up a staircase. It led you to... a winery? You go to pull a lever, before hearing a man's voice.

"Well, well. Didn't think anyone was left! You must be pretty tough, huh?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, you're not local! Even better."

You're then stabbed and you fall unconscious.

--

"The woman is of no use to anyone else. And my daughters do so love... well, pretty women. Furthermore, I can assure if you entrust the mortal to House Dimitrescu-"

You awake to see a creepy doll, taking you aback.

"My daughters and I shall take extra good care of her. She will not bother you in the slightest."

"Out of the way, ugly! I want to see-oh! She's awake!"

"You mean- Y-you mean?"

"Both of you, shut the fuck up!"

"You mean you'll fuck around with her in private, and where's the fun in that? Give her to me and I'll put on a show that everybody can enjoy."

"Oh, so gauche. No one wants to watch you fuck some mortal. Please! What do we care for bread and circuses? Keep it in your pants."

"Yack, yack. And if that woman is fucked to where she can't walk in the castle- blah, blah, blah!"

"I've heard all your arguments. Some of you were less persuasive than others, but... I've made my decision. Heisenberg. The woman's fate is in your hands."

"Mother Miranda. I must protest! Heisenberg is but a child and his devotion to you is questionable. Give the mortal to me and I will ensure she is... pleased."

"Shut your damn hole and don't be a sore loser! Go find your next fuck somewhere else."

"Quiet now, child! Adults are talking."

"I'm the child? You're the one who's arguing with Miranda's decision!"

"You wouldn't know responsibility if it was welded to that hammer."

"Oh, keep growing, one day your head might actually fit your ego!"

"Fight, fight, fight, fight!"

"Hey, don't I get a say in this?"

"Silence!" Miranda's wings open, causing everyone to hush. "My decision is final, there will be no argument. Remember from whence you came!"

"Thank you, mother."

"Lycans and gentle man, we thank you for waiting! And now let the games begin!"

"Let's see what you're really made of Y/n Winters. Get ready!" He slams down your chains and counts down as you are forced to run, not knowing what he'd do if he catches you.

You run down the tunnel, ignoring the voice, hoping they don't get to your head. They spoke of you as if you were some pet- A play thing even.

"Very nice, Y/n!"

You made it to a cave, only for Heisenberg to land infront of you. He swings at you, but then you start falling? You were unsure of what was going on, as you were in so much pain.

"You're still alive? Impressive... I will have so much fun with you."

The walls start to cave in, but you quickly find some boards and bang them open. You rush through the tunnel, before finding a hide out spot and getting your hands unchained. Those freaks- They must have Rose, your baby.

You ran about, before finding the place you had been at before. You pulled the lever and are lead back outside. You head up the hill, and a man comes out of a wagon.

"I've been waiting for you Miss Winters."

"How do you know my name?"

"Anyone who is anyone has heard of the likes of you. A hero searching for her daughter. Though I must say, that castle arouses suspicion."

"No shit. But so do you."

He laughs, waving you off. "I am but a humble merchant."

"Here?"

"Forgive my manners, call me the Duke. Now to business."

"Weapons, ammunition, healing salves- Anything you desire, I can provide."

You have little money, so you go on your way. You open the doors to the castle, before heading in and seeing a portrait of 3 noble ladies. You head around, before hearing a scream- Catching you off guard.

You go to read a sign, but you are stopped by three women.

"Looking for Rose?"

They corner you, before one of them pushes and stabs you. "Oh, you're very pretty. We'll have fun with you."

[the-owl-tree]

changing skies predictions but im overdramatic and mean about them:

avos rehash of the ugh kids these days dont respect anything plotline but even worse, now with tawnypelt instead of her cringe husband

this will be the only allusion to avos. twigbranch and violetshine will sink deeper into background character hell. sorry avos protagonist enjoyers, the authors genuinely dont seem to gaf about them

the authors getting really mad that people like tigerheartstar so theyre going to make him an unreasonable antagonistic figure again.

probably squirrelstar too because she is now being subjected to the Leaders Curse

shadowsight is going to be alluded to but despite having such clear parallels to the main character he probably won't play a main part apart from someone calling him a dumb fuck for being manipulated

someone dies from being caught in the dynamite explosion that will hopefully blow up the moonpool forever. this cool death should go to some character that is old and that i like. however, i wish death upon those i dont like

leafstar going blind and it tying into her clan questioning her capacity to lead........is anyone else kind of bracing themselves for the worst here?

man. is this a tbc rehash but worse? guys tbc was great, you fixed the ashfur problem! you don't have anyone else to do that with unless you're about to do some bizarre retconning.

tbc but with moonpaw and uh mapleshade because we need fifty more mapleshade appearances before we even consider making another prominent female villain that doesn't die immediately

honestly. something really catholic is probably gonna happen considering how asc is going.

[badasmuse]

“Even The Sun Hides”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, upset bada, lowercase intended

Summary: bada was having a bad day so you took care of her

Includes Eli.’s “even the sun hides”

hey.. bada’s been having a terrible day. she just got done crying please take care of her🩵

the text came in thirty minutes before she walked in the door.

“hi honey.” i whispered when she walked in. her eyes were red and swollen and her makeup was running down her cheeks.

“hi baby. what do you want for dinner?” she shrugs off her jacket and takes off her beanie.

“i’ll take care of that. how was your day?” i knew she wouldn’t tell me everything that happened.

“it was okay. we’re doing great.”

i lead her to the couch and stand behind her hand on her shoulders. lightly pressing on the knots there. she sighs and sniffles.

“what happened honey?”

bada starts silently sobbing. i walk around the couch and sit next to her pulling her into my chest. her sobs got louder and she grips onto my shirt.

i rub her hair and back soothingly letting her cry. i didn’t say a word holding her close waiting for her to feel comfortable enough to talk to me.

she then became silent. light sniffles left her and she looked up at me.

“i got makeup on your shirt.” she says hoarsely.

“oh honey that’s the least of my worries. do you want to talk?” i ask wiping her eyes.

“no thank you. not right now.”

i nod understandingly and stand up. “let’s get you in the tub. that could help you.”

she stands and follows me to the bathroom, leaning against the sink as i run the water. i add bubbles just for the fun of it.

“you can’t get in the tub fully dressed.” i say looking at her.

she pulls out of her head and looks at me. “what? oh right.. don’t look.”

i giggle and cover my eyes, “i’ve seen you naked before.”

“yeah but i don’t like when you watch me strip. it’s awkward.” i can hear the pout in her voice.

i hear her walk and step into the tub. i uncover my eyes and watch as she sinks in, long legs bent at the knees so her chest is covered by the bubbles.

“we need a bigger tub.” she mumbles.

i laugh and kneel next to her head, grabbing her favorite shampoo and massaging it into her scalp. her eyes flutter shut and she sighs.

i rinse her hair and add conditioner.

“are you hungry?” i ask.

“no i really just want to sleep.” she says quietly.

i hurry to finish her hair and leave the room so she can clean herself. i lay down the clean sheets and grab her clothes out of the dryer making sure they’re not too hot.

she comes out the bathroom in her towel and looks at me.

“get dressed i’ll be right back.” i run to the kitchen getting a bottle of water, she’s probably dehydrated from all the crying, and an orange. she’s gonna eat something.

when i go back, she’s sitting on her bed typing aggressively on her phone.

“uh uh.” i say snatching it from her hands. “eat this and drink some water. don’t even pick up that phone again.”

she pouts and nods peeling and eating the orange before laying down. i slide in next to her and she immediately cuddles into my chest.

“will you sing?” i knew it was coming.

i think for a little and settle on the song that usually helps her when she gets like this.

that’s just the way it goes, the highs the lows, nobody knows how you feel. even the sun hides, up in the the cloudy skies, we all have dark times, but we live good lives. it’s a good life.

after the short little vocalizing the song has, i look down at her and she’s fast asleep, fisting my shirt like i’ll run away.

my big baby.

[ramshacklerumble]

W-Woah! Didn’t expect to see you around here. Perfect timing, we’re about to cut the cake!

Groovification: [LOCKED]

Set to Home Screen: Uh…Do I look okay?

Home Transition 1: Should’ve known Lilia wouldn’t let me pass the dorm mirror without trying to scare the soul out of me first. The guy really knows how to make you feel alive.

Home Transition 2: Jorge and Hernando started the morning by squeaking up a storm. They were trying to sing to me, but between the two of us, I think I should get them some music lessons.

Home, after login: Hmm~ Hmm~ Hmm~ 🎵 Oh, haha. The Ramshackle Prefect invited me to listen to a musical from their homeworld on their magic gramophone. Cool, huh? I took a recording hoping Ortho might be able to clean up the audio.

Home Transition (Groovification): [LOCKED]

Tap Home 1: Check it out! Cater got me this awesome limited edition poster for one of my favorite films. I kept asking how he got it, but he just gets this sly look in his eye and won’t tell me.

Tap Home 2: Yeesh. Even on my birthday, Vil gave me a big ol’ chewing out over my hair, but then gave me a present. …It’s hair product.

Tap Home 3: People give Silver a wide berth because he looks so serious all the time, but he’s honestly a great guy. We’re planning on having a movie night, y-you’re welcome to join!

Tap Home 4: Dorms are forced to host birthday parties, so freshman year I felt kinda bad over these random dudes having to throw one for me. This year…it actually felt like they wanted to celebrate…heh heh.

Tap Home 5: A couple of freshmen asked how old I was turning and they looked so surprised. …Do I really look that old…?

Tap Home (Groovification): [LOCKED]

DUO MAGIC: Haha, let’s not to get too wild here, o-okay Floyd…? / C’mon, Flounder! How ‘bout we kick it up a notch?

big thank you to @moonyasnow for their bday boy background templates!

tag list:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @blithesharem @thehollowwriter @jovieinramshackle

@theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @kimikitti

@felix-cant-ski @nightwingshero @water-writings @beneathsakurashade (dm to be added)

[ellieputellas]

give me a minute | part two of "if you’d have stuck around"

give me a minute, kiss me again, i'll say goodbye to cloudy blue skies i'd trade all i've got in my name for you instead of this pain — "give me a minute" by lizzy mcalpine

part one | part two | part three

🏷️: @simp4panos @moonystoes

The video went live, and it racked up views within hours. Comments poured in, with fans loving the new content and even new people from your own follower base growing interested in the content. You hadn’t expected it to take off so quickly, but the sudden popularity of the video felt satisfying. 

Soon, the video was the most viewed on your company's Youtube and TikTok. You wondered why it must have blown up; it felt like such generic fluff but a lot of people seemed to like it. 

The popularity of the video led to talks in your office of pursuing more sports content. You usually did pieces with celebrities, actors, influencers but maybe expanding to somewhat newer territories would be a great way to compete with other media companies.

Aside from discussing the popularity of the video, a bunch of your younger colleagues were smitten by Elisa. The effortless and nonchalant French vibe seemed to be all the rage with your officemates, much to your annoyance.

You were getting asked left and right about her by your younger co-workers. You tried not to seem annoyed as to not raise suspicion but frankly you were over it. You kinda liked it better when all the baby gays in your office were preoccupied with Emma D'arcy or Paige Bueckers. Hell, you preferred that shortlived era when everyone crushed on your girlfriend after she got a haircut. 

But no, instead, all anyone could talk was Elisa. Even your work friends groupchat was flooded with Tiktok links to edits of your ex-girlfriend. 

God, if you're real, you'd give us a new cute gay intern for these girls to focus on instead. You wished for it on more than one occasion over the past few days.

You were working on a new pitch when the bubbly intern Daisy peered over your cubicle with a cheeky grin on her face. "Y/N..." She said, extending your name in a cutesy manner. 

"Yes, Daisy?" You smiled but gave a cautious eyebrow raise at the younger girl. She had been one of the new staunch Elisa fanatics in your office, even trying to convince Casey to ask her dad to take everyone in the office to go watch the PSG friendlies match tomorrow. "This better be important."

She giggled and blushed. "You have a guest at the lobby."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Is it a delivery?" You paused, thinking that it might be the magazine archives you requested for another thing you were working on. "You can just sign for that, y'know?"

She chuckled again. "No, no, I can't sign for it." She said before making a gesture for you to just come along.

You sighed and stood from your cubicle before following the intern. When you arrived at the lobby, you were met with the sight of the last person you wanted to see. 

"I told you I couldn't sign for it." Daisy commented.

"Oh," I said. 

Elisa stood up from the chairs in your office lobby. She gave you a weak smile before greeting you. "Hey."

You looked at her, clad in her team hoodie and joggers. She had a paper bag with her which you made notice of. You turned to Daisy who was basically as red as a tomato. You sighed.

You stepped towards Elisa. "Uh, what are you doing here?" You said in a hushed voice.

She blinked. She looked a tad nervous and awkward but you figured it might have been because Daisy had been very obviously gawking behind me.  

"I—I know this might be unexpected, but I wanted to drop by and thank you for the interview," she said, extending the gift. "The team…loved it."

You thanked her curtly, hesitantly getting the gift from her. "Do you... wanna talk somewhere more private? In the conference room, maybe?" You asked.

She nodded. You led the way inside your office. Elisa gave a friendly greeting to the intern who looked like she was going to burst in just a moment. You finally made your way to one of the vacant meeting rooms.

You shut the door behind you and the privacy curtains, knowing fully well that your co-workers would very indiscreetly pass multiple times just  to catch a glance of the new office crush.

You two stood awkwardly before you finally gestured for her to sit. She paused before sitting on the chair adjacent to you. 

You glanced down at the paper bag, only catching a glance of what looked like a jersey. "Elisa... why are you here?" It sounded more exasperated and hostile than you intended.

"I already told you." She answered, defensively. "The team's social media engagement blew up after the video and now all the tickets to our friendlies are sold out. The team just wanted to thank you."

You sighed. "I don't think I can take credit for that. Someone else conceptualized that video." You responded, shaking your head. "Besides, why just me? Gina took care of the production. Hell, Casey did even more than I did. All I did was read out a script written by some other person."

Elisa furrowed her eyebrows together, looking confused. "I don't know, okay? You were the one they remembered so you're the one being thanked. Is that so bad?" Her voice raised with annoyance. "God, can't you just say thanks."

You took a deep breath. Suddenly, you were teleported back to the time that you were always arguing like this — raised voices, misunderstanding, hostile tones.

"I'm sorry, I just thought you'd appreciate it." Her voice was more calm.

You nodded. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Thank your teammates for thinking about me." You responded, just wanting to avoid another argument. "What is it anyway?"

Elisa shrugged and her facial expression softened. "Why don't you look?" Her tone had a slight amusement to it. You looked at her and she had a small smile. "I thought of what to get you. Jackie wanted to get you flowers but uh, I think... I know you well enough and you might want this more."

You ignored what she had just said, not wanting to read into it. You lifted up the jersey. It was the Paris Saint-Germain away kit. You hummed. "Thanks?"

She chuckled at your reaction. "Turn it around." She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're so quick to react negatively."

Your eyes widened as you turned it around with your last name on the back and your old number from when you used to play — a five. A wave of nostalgia hit you.

"What?" Your voice was soft as you blinked at the sight of it.

Elisa scooted closer to you. "I had our staff get it done this morning and uh... I know that five is my number now," She started. "But it was yours before it was mine."

She put a careful hand on your knee. "I'm just giving it back to you... if you'd want it." 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the list of the new numbers assigned to each player at your summer camp. "Huh, why am I not five anymore?" You asked yourself in English. "Because I'm five now." A voice behind you said. You turned around to see a taller brunette girl with short hair, wearing a baggy jersey. "You got a new number because five is mine." You scoffed at the girl with a strong French accent. "I was here since last summer? I should have first dibs." You argued, thinking it must have been a mistake. She stepped closer to you, intimidating you with her height. "Well, obviously, I'm a better player so coach gave me first dibs." She smirked. "But I'll give it back to you under one condition."

"What?" You spat out. The smirk grew on the girl's face. "Date me." "No chance."  "Tough luck," She chuckled. "Guess you're stuck with... fifteen? What a shit number."

“Huh.” You murmured, remembering the memory. "Took you long enough to give it back to me."

"Yeah, yeah, to be fair, I wanted to give it back to you when we uh... started dating." She chuckled awkwardly. "But uh, you were done with football then so I might as well keep it."

You couldn't pinpoint what you were feeling at that moment. It was overwhelming — the memories, her proximity to you, her intoxicating scent filling the room, her hand on your knee.

She must have noticed that you were frozen in thought again. She took her hand away from you. "I see you like to overthink still." She joked.

You feigned a chuckle as you put the jersey on your lap, feeling the fabric with your fingers awkwardly.

Elisa, who’d been watching your reaction, cleared her throat. “There’s, uh… something else from me too,” she added, a little nervous. "In the bottom of the bag."

You just looked at her. She gave you a small smile before taking the paper bag from the table and sticking her hand in. She reached into something small — small enough to fit in her palm without you seeing what it was. 

Elisa pulled out a small, battered keychain — a football charm with a lucky four leaf clover on it. The steel was scuffed and dirty but it looked almost like it did years ago.

"Just another thing I want to give back to you," Elisa said. She dangled it in front for you to take. You stuck your hand out and let her place it gently on your palm. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Elisa," You called out to the French girl after a winning scrimmage. You had scored a goal in that game and were an essential part of the defense line.  On the other hand, Elisa was subbed off early in the game after making a few crucial mistakes. It left her pissed off and moody so much so that even when your team won, she didn't bother to huddle with your team and celebrate. "You fucking bad sport," You commented before giving her a punch on the shoulder. "You think you could just bail without congratulating me for being the player of the match?" She didn't seem amused by your teasing. "Cool it, fifteen. It was a scrimmage." She warned, using the nickname she gave you. "Besides, I'm not in the mood." Your rolled your eyes at her immaturity. "Are you seriously not happy for me, huh?" She took a deep breath. Her eyes which had been previously dodging your gaze finally met yours.  "Fine, you did really well." She acquiesced. "I'm just jealous actually. I didn't have my head in the game, you know? Not even for the past few marches. But you're doing... really good. I loved watching you play. You're getting even better than I am." She pinched your cheek playfully and you swatted her arm away with a chuckle. You hummed as you batted your eyelashes at her. "You really have a crush on me, De Almeida." Her smile grew. "I used to... but not after I learned how cocky and arrogant you are."  You rolled your eyes. "Y'know what, I think I played really good cause of what I got at the supermarket this morning." You chuckled before swinging your backpack to your front, struggling to unhook the football keychain you got. "They had some promotional event where you could win a trip to Barcelona, a signed jersey, an umbrella, all that. But, I won this. The cashier said it was a lucky charm." You showed her the steel keychain. "It's not a weekend off to Spain but hey, it really must be lucky." You chuckled. You looked at Elisa and noticed that she had a soft gaze fixed on you with a slight smile. Her brown eyes seemed even lighter as she looked at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?" She rolled her eyes. "You're such a gullible idiot." She teased as she touched your keychain. "This is just a corny keychain from the supermarket." You playfully pushed her again, making her laugh. She bit her lip, still looking amused at you. "Don't be mean." You told her off. "But if you feel that way, then so be it. I was supposed to give it to you but since you're such an ass..." Her eyes widened in instant regret. "No, no, I want it." She reached for the keychain but you swung your arm behind you so she wouldn't catch it. She grappled with you for the keychain, desperately trying to get it from you. In the process, her hand found its way to the small of your back, holding you in place to prevent you from further squirming. You paused and felt shocked at the sudden touch and proximity, causing you to lose focus on keeping the keychain away from Elisa. "Aha!" She exclaimed as she grabbed the keychain from you. "Now, I'm the lucky one." You sighed. "Okay, fine, you need it more anyway." You teased, under your breath. You expected a retort from the French girl but instead, you two fell silent and Elisa still had her hand on your back. You looked up at the girl. "What?" Her brown eyes were soft and they flickered from your eyes to your lips. "Don't worry, fifteen." She said in a hushed voice. "I'll trade you something for it." "It better be worth it cause that keychain is priceless." You said teasingly. "I hope you think it is," She said nervously before slowly leaning into you. You could see her hesitating, pausing a bit to gauge your reaction. You stayed steady and fluttered your eyes close as she finally closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Your fingers stilled as you stared at it. You were at a disbelief as to why Elisa even kept such a cheap keychain. You touched the chain part, noticing that it was noticeably newer and made of a different metal. 

Elisa must have noticed. "I had to get the chain changed at a jeweler this morning." She clarified. "It's gotten pretty flimsy over the years and it broke before I came here."

You stayed silent. She tried to lighten the mood by telling you how it broke. "It's funny actually... Before I came here, my car had some issues so I naturally had to take the taxi and my driver was so, so talkative. I really didn't care until he started talking about football."

"He started talking shit about the PSG men's team, which I found funny." She chuckled, pausing to look at you for a reaction. "Anyway, when he dropped me off at the airport and helped with my bags, he noticed I was wearing a PSG jacket and my bag tag had the PSG logo."

You looked at her, waiting for her to finish her story. "So, he carefully asks me if I was a fan, looking regretful at what he said and I said 'non... je suis l'un des joueurs.'" (No, I'm one of the players.)

You gave her a soft chuckle. She was beaming as she continued the story. "I just watched him look like this," She paused to make a shocked face with her jaw open and eyes wide. "And then he said... 'désolé, monsieur, je n'aurais pas deviné... je pensais que vous étiez une fille.'" (Sorry, sir. I thought you were a girl.)

You shook your head and chuckled. "So he thought you were part of the men's team."

She nodded, looking amused. "Yeah, supposedly." She sighed. "But anyway, as he was driving away, I noticed that the football charm on the keychain was gone. It was just the round part and the flimsy chain. So, I panicked."

"I feel like it was such a dumbass move to do in the airport but I left my luggage there at the drop-off to chase after the taxi," She said with a big smile on her face, recalling the incident. "It was like I was in a TV show running after a taxi and shouting but anyway, after probably four minutes of sprinting, I caught up to the taxi and rummaged the backseat and found the keychain lodged somewhere between the cushions."

She shook her head at the memory. "I thanked the taxi man and he looked incredibly annoyed, making him stop in the middle of a busy road. He started calling me crazy and he pointed at me and shouted 'Tu n'es pas PSG; tu es une fille!'" (You are not PSG; you are a girl!)

She laughed at her own story and you gave a weak smile. You started piecing her story together, recalling the shoot you had the other day with the other PSG girls. "So... you were late to the airport?" You clarified.

She nodded. "Yeah, my manager got so pissed at me for it too."

You exhaled, pausing for a moment. "I thought it was because you left your passport." You looked up at her.

Elisa realized her slip-up and shrugged. "I couldn't tell them I was late because I chased after a taxi over a keychain." 

Suddenly, you two fell silent again. You looked at the scuffed keychain once more. It was so worn down and dated. You couldn't understand why Elisa would keep it after all of these years. 

"When I gave you this keychain, you called me a gullible idiot for thinking it was a lucky charm." You recalled and gave a small chuckle. "Yet you kept it..."

Elisa ran a hand through her hair, realizing she had revealed more than she wanted to. "Well, I had it in my first game with PSG and we won. The times I forgot it at home, we lost miserably. I don't know. It's silly but yeah... I kept it."

You hummed and nodded. "You do know I didn't actually believe it was lucky back then..." You clarified. "I only said it to make you feel better about being benched."

She nodded. "I know." She sighed. "But the lucky aspect.... it's not the only reason why I kept it."

Again, there awkward and heavy energy filled the air. You ran your thumb through the metal, feeling the texture of the keychain against your  finger. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know what to think. 

You knew what Elisa was trying to say but it was hard for you to make sense of it. She never made an effort to contact you after you broke up. You two haven't seen each other in years... yet here she was practically digging up the bones of your relationship which you have worked so hard to bury. 

Elisa was the first to break the tension. She put her hand over yours, gently running her thumb against your skin in the same way you were touching the keychain just now. You avoided looking at her but you could tell thay her brown eyes were fixed on you.

"I'm sorry..." She started with an almost undetectable shake in her voice. "I'm sorry I never reached out to you. I'm sorry that I'm bringing it all up now. And, I'm sorry... for what happened to us."

Your gaze stayed fixed on the table, afraid of what might transpire if you had looked at her face.

"I just..." She paused. "Je pense à toi tout le temps....et je regrette tout." (I think about you a lot still... and I regret everything.)

Your heart was beating fast and you've grown increasingly emotional. You just didn't know which emotions were there as they had tangled with each other inside of you. Elisa was still brushing her thumb against your hand and it felt like too much at the moment. It felt... wrong.

"It's been five years," You didn't know why you said it. You felt like the words just slipped right out of your mouth.

Elisa nodded. "Yeah, I shouldn't have let it take this long." She muttered under her breath. "I just had no way of telling if there'd be another chance for us and every day that passed just made it feel more and more impossible... but then I saw you. It just felt like a sign, you know."

You finally had it in you to look up at her. You nearly gave in when you saw her with her beautiful face and those warm eyes on you. But you shook your head. 

"You don't know me anymore," You said softly, trying to keep composure. "And, I don't know you."

Elisa sighed deeply but you could tell she understood what you meant. You were no longer young, in college, and sharing a small dorm with tiny, pushed-together single beds.

She was a full-blown football superstar and you were this writer with an established life here. Sure, a lot of your tiny quirks and habits stayed the same but you could just tell that time has changed you two so much.

"I know, and it's better now." She said, leaving you confused. "We got what we always wanted in our lives and now, we can... give us a chance."

You let our a sarcastic chuckle. 

"It sounds corny, I know." She rolled her eyes at her own statement. "But I mean it... why else would we have met again this way?"

Silence befell the two of you for the nth time. It just was too much for you to process quickly. You were suddenly forced back into the same situation you were years ago.

"Elisa... where do you see yourself in five years?" You repeated the same question you asked exactly five years ago. The very question you asked that caused you two to fall apart.

You looked up and her face just fell. It was her turn to be speechless. You let out another dry chuckle as you quickly wiped off your moist eyes. 

"Five years ago, you said you'd be in a major club and playing the Olympics and travelling the world." You reminded her. "And you got everything you asked for."

You paused and cleared your throat to avoid your voice from cracking. "I wasn't part of your dreams five years ago..." You nodded. "And for the past five years, I worked on accepting that."

She looked at you with pleading eyes but she stayed silent. You sighed shakily. "You don't get to undo the past five years just like that."

A part of you felt broken; you felt like you were still that same girl five years ago crying over never being a priority to her girlfriend. If past you knew about what you chose to say now, she'd be ripping her hair out.

Surely, you'd prefer it, right? Your dream job with your dream girl who also achieved all her dreams. A chance to be together and still have it all. It seemed like the ideal scenario.

But it wasn't that simple.

You made peace with your break-up. You built this life that you had now brick-by-brick. Sure, you got a bit lucky with getting a girlfriend who was basically a media nepo baby. But you still worked your ass off to get everything you wanted. There was still so much more for you to do... and you just knew you couldn't do that if you were with Elisa.

"What am I supposed to do, Elisa?" You asked. "Quit my job? Leave my girlfriend? Abandon my life, my friends, my family and go back to Paris so I can be your football WAG?"

She looked annoyed. "I'm not asking you to do all that. I just... want another chance, okay?" 

"Did you even think this through? What would you do if I agreed to give you a chance?" Your voice started to get louder. "I'll just go end things with my girlfriend — whose dad, by the way, is my boss — and just date you? What if you realized I'm not the same as I was before? Then, I would have lost everything while you still get to keep being PSG's star defender, Elisa de Almeida."

Elisa grew frustrated but you knew her words were making sense to her. "I didn't think it would be so offensive to tell you that I still care about you after all these years." She raised her voice. "You're acting like I'm wrong because I still love you."

You were shocked but you tried not to show that you were taken aback by her declaration. Elisa sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "There... I still love you." She repeated it. "I just wanted to remind you that a long time ago, you loved me too."

You looked at the keychain and the jersey and felt your heart twist in pain. Part of you loved hearing Elisa say that she still loved you after all these years but the logical, more mature side of you knew that she was being selfish, naive, and immature. She may have changed a lot career-wise but she was still the same selfish and immature Elisa she was five years ago.

You took a deep sigh, feeling a bit shaken up. You avoided looking at Elisa. "I think you should leave."

Elisa said your name and tried to reach out to you to touch your hand again but you shook your head. "Please just leave."

Elisa paused. From your peripheral vision, you could see her contemplating. You knew that as much as she wanted to stay and convince you, she had a game in San Diego to attend to.

For a second, you thought she'd ditch the game — some desperate attempt to beg for you back. If that happened, you wondered if you would have given her a chance. After all, that would have shown you that she was finally prioritizing your relationship (or in this case, a shot at a relationship again) — something she never did when you were together. You were certain that you wouldn't have given in that easily... but deep inside, you knew it would have changed a lot of things. 

But you weren't given that dilemma. 

Elisa stood up. She paused to take a breath before leaving you in that meeting room alone. You didn't bother to lift your head when she left. You just let your head hang low and let the tears fall.

a/n: i didn't proofread so pls lmk if there are any mistakes! i write pretty quick but the last chapter might take longer! hopefully, i can finish by this weekend hehe lmk if u wanna be added to tags

[brave-and-gentle]

The Patient

MDNI!!!!

Summary: As a dental hygienist for six years, nothing throws off Jean Kirstein. Until he meets you, his newest patient.

Pairings: afab reader x Jean

Warnings: lots of teasing, SMUT, oral of course because it's dentistry

Word count: ~8,000 (I uh, got carried away with this one)

Author's note: To my sister wife, @babypaloma, plz enjoy this time with our husband!! Also you should all know this is my first time writing true smut, plz be nice to me.

As a dental hygienist for six years, nothing throws off Jean Kirstein. He works at a small clinic in western Mitras, mostly patients under the age of 50 who live and work in the city. Though it's fairly relaxed, Jean has seen it all – one time, a seed stuck in a patient's retainer grew into a sprout. He's also seen rotting flesh inside a patient's mouth. Thankfully, those are rare cases.

But Jean is never phased by the unhinged things he's witnessed in people's mouths. He got into the profession simply because he likes helping people – he spends more time with the patients than the actual dentist. And he finds the science fascinating.

Jean has never been phased until he sees you.

You're flustered when you burst through the doors of the clinic. He notes how flushed pink your cheeks are and how wild your hair is from the wind. Outside, a fall storm rages. Bright orange, red and yellow leaves swirl around and slap the rain-soaked window. Though it's mid-morning, the storm has darkened the skies.

Jean hovers behind Sasha, the office manager, to see who his next patient is. Sasha opens the schedule on the computer and the cursor hovers over a woman's name. It's someone he doesn't recognize, and Jean remembers all his patients – so you must be new.

Sasha calls your name and Jean's eyes lock with yours as you dart up to the desk and apologize for being late.

“I didn't expect the storm today,” you say and peel off your soaking wet jacket.

Something unfamiliar jolts through Jean's body head to toe as you reveal a form-fitting shirt underneath your jacket. It's not inherently sexual, not at all, but with the way the rain drips off the ends of your hair onto your shirt – warmth courses through Jean's body and he's not quite sure why.

Your name rolls off Jean's tongue with ease. He's frozen as you lock eyes with him.

“I'm ready for you,” he says with a warm smile.

“Great.” You return his smile with bright eyes.

A shiver runs down Jean's spine. Before he loses his composure, he turns on his heel and leads you down to the exam room.

“After you,” he gestures and can't help but sneak a peak at your ass.

Keep it professional, Jean reminds himself. This certainly isn't the first time he's had an attractive patient. But something about you feels different.

He's about to run through all the routine questions for a new patient, but he notices most of your chart is already filled out – your name, number, address, etc.

“Are you a new patient?” Jean asks, perplexed.

“Ah, yes and no,” you explain. “I went to a clinic under the same system in eastern Mitras, but I just moved, so now I'm here.”

“Gotcha, same system, different clinic.” Jean notes that your emergency contact is a woman's name – Pieck Finger. Either you don't have a serious significant other – or you're not interested in men at all. There's no relationship listed, but he can add one.

“And what's Pieck's relationship to you?” Jean clears his throat.“Friend, roommate, partner?”

“Oh – friend and roommate,” you answer from the exam chair. Jean nods and adds that note into your chart. Of course, it's still a possibility that you're dating someone, but he's not exactly sure how to ask. Or if he should. No, Jean knows he shouldn't. It's not professional. Dr. Levi Ackerman would throttle him.

“And what brought you to the western side?” He asks and pulls up your dental records.

“Pieck and I just wanted to explore a different part of the city,” you answer and shrug.

“Yeah? How you like it here so far?” Jean mindlessly scrolls through your records. He's skimming them, stalling for time to chat with you, to learn more about you beyond what's in your chart.

“Love it,” you emphasize. “The eastern side was a bit too corporate for me. I like all the small shops around here.”

Jean swivels in his chair to turn to you. “So you don't miss the east side at all? Nothing tying you there?” This is about as close as he can get to asking you if you have a boyfriend without making it inappropriate.

“Nope.” You make direct eye contact with Jean. The mischievous glimmer in your eyes sends ripples up and down his body. “That's the great part about moving to a new place. I'm open and available for anything.” Heat rises to Jean's face. He didn't expect you to answer so confidently. He puts on his face mask on to cover up his blushing face. Well, that answers that, he thinks.

“Oh by the way,” Jean says as he realizes there was something in your chart worth noting. He turns back to the computer screen to double check. “Just a heads up that next time you come in, we'll have to do updated x-rays.”

“Ugh.”

Jean chuckles. “Sensitive gag reflex?” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes the implications of what he asked. He didn't mean it like that though. Plenty of patients struggle with sensitive gag reflex, so it's not something he's thought of as inherently sexual. But with you on his exam chair? It's a totally different connotation.

“Oh, very,” you drawl. Jean's eyes practically pop out of his skull. He's relieved that he's looking at the computer screen and not you. Not while he's wondering exactly how sensitive your gag reflex is, especially if -

No, no, NO, Jean reprimands himself. He clears his throat again.

“Alright then.” He's not sure how to segue out of that. He pulls on a new pair of gloves and gets to work.

It's no exaggeration for Jean to say you have the prettiest mouth he's ever seen. He's glad that he has several years of dental cleaning experience and can turn his brain on autopilot. If he were less experienced, he might get distracted. Since you're unable to talk, Jean loses himself in his work, moving from one tooth to the next to remove plaque. There's not much too of it – he can tell you keep up with your regular cleanings.

After a couple minutes, Jean wipes the scaler off and returns to your mouth, which you've closed. Obedient, you open your mouth as Jean moves closer to you – and you lick a gloved finger tip. He freezes.

Did that really just happen?

No, that had to be an accident.

But you're making direct eye contact with him again, as if presenting a challenge.

Jean clears his throat, again, and tries to ignore the faint pulsing in between his legs.

Get your shit together, Kirstein, he berates himself.

He continues his work, but Jean's finger tip is still warm where you licked him. After a few more minutes, he's finished with the plaque removal.

“Nice,” he says and switches to the polisher. “I can tell you're pretty good about coming in for appointments.”

“I am a pretty good girl about that,” you answer in a low voice.

Jean gulps.

He turns to you and rolls his chair closer to yours.

“Um – ready?” He holds the polisher in one hand.

“Ready.” You lick your lips and open your mouth.

The faint pulsing in between Jean's legs throbs as he imagines what your mouth would look like wrapped around his dick.

His mental filter is destroyed.

Jean is a goner.

He forces himself to focus on polishing your teeth, even though his eyes are pulling him to sneak a peak at your cleavage. What he wouldn't give to rip his gloves off and trace your body while you lie on the exam chair.

Jean is grateful that you can't possibly see the raging boner under his long, white coat.

After he's done polishing your teeth, Jean gives you a swig of water and places the suction in your mouth to finish up. You hold on to the suction as it cleans out the water in your mouth.

Jean's hand trembles as he holds it inside your mouth. You hold onto it for far longer than necessary.

“Mmmm,” you hum and gaze at Jean with lazy eyes.

His heart pounds.

He wants to make you hum like that again.

With his fingers, his tongue, his cock, anything.

“Alright, how we doin'???” Dr. Hange Zoe bursts in to greet you two.

You open your mouth and Jean quickly removes the suction.

“Good,” you both answer at the same time.

“Can I take a look?” Dr. Zoe plops onto the other chair and rolls toward you. Jean tears himself away and busies himself with going over your chart on the computer again. “Any issues, Jean?”

“Nope, she's perfect,” he answers. And he means it. He's not quite sure what it is pulling him toward you – your bold attitude, your confidence, your sparkling eyes, and most obviously, your plush lips. Jean folds his hands in his lap, silently begging Dr. Zoe to stay focused on you and not his still present boner.

“Wow, you've got a great set of teeth!” They exclaim. “No risk of cavities anywhere. I'm not worried about anything. We really don't see mouths like this every day, do we Jean?”

“Um, uh – no, we don't,” Jean stutters. He stares at your phone number in your chart. It would be all too easy to write it down while Dr. Zoe was examining you.

But he couldn't – he shouldn't – cross that line. No, he's not some perv.

“I think we're all good here,” Dr. Zoe says and removes their gloves. “Jean boy, why don't you schedule our fine patient's next appointment?” They run off to see the next patient before waiting for a response. Jean pulls up the schedule and clicks through to the spring.

“It'll be the usual six months out,” he explains. “How's Friday morning again?”

“Sounds like a date. Though I was hoping for sooner than six months.”

Jean's mouth goes dry.

“Yeah, standard procedure, it's too bad. . .” he trails off and sneaks a peak at you behind his shoulder. You're sitting up now and grinning like a devil. “Anyways, I'll walk you out?” Thankfully, his boner has mostly dissipated. Mostly. He folds his hand in front of his crotch just in case. “Any plans for the weekend?”

“I haven't made too many friends on this side of town yet. The weekend might be a good opportunity though. Actually - I'll be at the bar down the street Saturday night.”

“Oh really?” Jean's voice squeaks ever so slightly. He knows exactly what bar you're talking about. After shifts, he and Sasha sometimes stop there and meet up with a few of their other friends.

“Uh huh,” you nod slowly and grab your still damp jacket from the rack. Jean towers over you as you slowly zip it up. “I guess I'll see you in six months – or maybe sooner.” You wink as you dash out the door before Jean has a chance to say goodbye.

Like a zombie, he walks back behind the desk over to Sasha.

“Um, how much time before my next patient?” He asks and leans over to see the schedule on her computer.

Sasha whirls around. “I have a more important question who was that? She sounded like she was begging you to go out with her!” Her amber eyes beg Jean for more information.

“What now?” A deadpan voice forces Jean to stand up pin straight.

“Nothing, sir!” Though Dr. Levi Ackerman was nearly a foot shorter than Jean, he never ceased to scare the shit out of him. Dr. Ackerman gives Jean the side eye. “I heard something about flirting? I swear to god Kirstein-”

“It was nothing sir, I swear!” Jean tries to explain, terrified that his professional behavior is being questioned, or worse, that Dr. Ackerman will reassign you to another dental hygienist.

“Tch.” Dr. Ackerman stalks off, temporarily satisfied.

Relieved, Jean collapses in the chair next to Sasha.

“Your next appointment is in about 15 minutes – Floch, do you remember him?”

Jean wracks his brain. “Ah yeah, serial cavity offender. Can't wait,” he grumbles.

He wishes all his patients looked like you.

~ ~ ~

You and your best friend Pieck cackle on the floor of your living room together. You clutch your stomach, aching from laughter.

“I can't believe I did that,” you gasp out and wipe tears of laughter from your eyes. As soon as you came home from the dentist, you told Pieck everything. You're not usually that bold, but relative anonymity empowered you.

“Way to start out our move with a bang,” Pieck laughs. “Although, not quite,” she gives a wry smile. “What did he look like? Tell me more!”

“Ugh,” you groan and roll onto your stomach. “Sexy as hell. Tall, really tall. Ashy brown hair – kinda shaggy, but it works for him. Hazel eyes. He seemed pretty fit too.”

“Sounds like you got a pretty good look. I still can't believe you did that,” Pieck shakes her head, her dark waves flying all over. “You're going to get banned for sexual harassment!” She teases.

“And I'd do it again,” you giggle and shrug.

You mean it – mostly. It might make for an awkward appointment in the spring, but with the way Jean flushed every time you teased him, you couldn't help but egg him on.

“Do you think he'll actually show up tomorrow night?” Pieck asks more seriously.

“I dunno.” You place your hand on your chin. “But I think it's worth going regardless.”

You and Pieck pick a seat at the bar that gives you two a perfect view of the front doors. You sit on margaritas all night, but the tall dental hygienist you're looking for never shows. You admit you're a little disappointed. With how flustered Jean was, you thought he might return your interest, but perhaps not. Or maybe he was seeing someone else. Guilt sinks into you as you wonder if pushed the poor guy too far. You shake it off and chat with Pieck about all the new places in your neighborhood you want to try.

The next six months pass by in a blur. You start your new job, which is boring, quite honestly, but it pays the bills. You and Pieck make new friends through various activities like a book club, yoga classes, and the community garden. You go on a few dates here and there, but nothing really sticks. They're a fun time, but thoughts about a certain tall dental hygienist come back like a boomerang.

You search the clinic website to try and find Jean's last name, but they only have the doctors listed. You've never been much into dating apps, but you download them all in hopes that you find him. You don't. So he's either taken or not into dating apps.

Admittedly, Jean begins to fade into memory as the days grow colder.

Then when spring hits, you remember.

You're practically skipping as you walk to your dentist appointment. The spring sun warms you from head to toe. You breath in the fresh scent of blooming cherry blossoms. You hope you didn't scare Jean away and that he's still your dental hygienist.

The same woman with long, brown hair and eager amber eyes greets you. Her name tag reads Sasha. You plop down on the white couches and aimlessly scroll through your phone.

A familiar voice calls your name.

You jerk your head up.

Jean stands in front of you with a wry smile on his face. “I'm ready for you.”

“Oh, uh, perfect,” you stutter and stand up. You follow him to the exam room.

He's even taller than you remembered. And more rugged – this time he's sporting a bit of scruff.

“After you,” he says and gestures to the exam chair. You sit down and turn sideways to watch him bring up your chart on the computer. You confirm that you have the same number, address, emergency contact, all the basic information.

“Any regular coffee or soda intake?” Jean asks.

“Occasional coffee,” you answer and swing your legs back forth. You twirl the ends of your hair. “I have an. . . addictive personality.”

“Oh yeah?” Jean turns to meet you with his earthy hazel eyes. He smirks and tilts his head. “What's your flavor?”

“Mostly bitter,” you blurt. “With a splash of milk.”

“Sounds right up my alley,” Jean says, holding eye contact. “Anyways.” He gets up and pulls out a strange looking machine. “We need to do updated x-rays today since your chart says it's been a few years.”

“Great,” you mutter. Last time you had to do these at the other clinic, you practically choked on everything the dental hygienist shoved in your mouth.

“Don't worry, I'll be gentle,” Jean purrs. “I remember you said you had a . . . sensitive gag reflex.”

You gulp as you turn yourself to sit the correct way in the exam chair. It's your turn to be flustered now.

Jean turns to you and holds a long, plastic device with his careful, gloved hands.

“Open up,” he whispers. “Nice and wide.”

You obey. You have no idea what the x-ray equipment is called, all you know is that it looks like some sort of instrument of torture devised for those cursed with small mouths.

“Bite down here,” Jean commands and taps on a red tab. You follow his instructions and fight to keep from gagging as the end of the device pokes the back of your throat. After a few seconds of extreme discomfort, Jean motions for you to open your mouth.

“Good girl,” he praises you as he slowly pulls the contraption out of your mouth. Goosebumps prickle up and down your arms.

Once the x-rays are done, you lie down for the regular cleaning and polishing. Jean runs a glove-covered thumb over your bottom lip as your mouth parts.

“Still looking good,” he murmurs.

You're not sure whether it's good or bad that you can't speak right now. Your soft lips burn under the gentle pressure of Jean's thumb. Your heart pounds with every movement Jean's fingers make in your mouth. It's not the exact actions – they're exactly the same as than any other dentist appointment. It's the sensual intention.

Or is it just your imagination? The urge to experiment rushes through you like a heat wave.

Jean's deft fingers move from tooth to tooth, perfecting them. In the middle of these movements, you find an opportunity to poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. He pauses, hazel eyes widening. There's no hiding what Jean is thinking. The corners of your mouth tilt up, knowing that lewd thoughts about you are pouring into his mind.

He clears his throat and moves your tongue back with his fingers.

“Behave yourself,” he chastises you.

You want to giggle, but your mouth is full of, well – him.

Jean is finished with the cleaning all too soon. Dr. Zoe bursts in with the same gusto you remember from last time.

“How's our best patient doing?” They ask and bounce up and down on the chair next to you.

“Couldn't be better,” you grin and look past their excited demeanor to Jean. His hazel eyes burn with intensity. This time, he doesn't hide in the computer. Your body tingles knowing that he's undressing you with his eyes. His tongue slips out of his mouth and runs along his bottom lip. You have to break eye contact as Dr. Zoe does their own examination, albeit much quicker and less invasive than Jean's. It takes everything you have to refrain from jumping out of the chair and onto Jean.

“No issues,” Dr. Zoe confirms, almost a carbon copy of last fall. “Except watch the spot right behind your front teeth. It's not anything major, I can just tell that you're missing that spot when brushing. Anyways, I gotta do a root canal – see you in the fall!” They say your name and dash off to another less fortunate patient.

“So our perfect patient is not so perfect?” Jean raises an eyebrow at you as the two of you are alone in the room again.

“I guess not,” you sigh. “Seems I'm missing a spot.”

“I can help you with any spots you need help with,” he says, eyes lingering at your breasts. The sensitive spot between your legs begins to throb at that idea.

You cross your legs and smirk. The boldness you felt at that last appointment has returned. “And how might you help me with that?”

“I know a few ways,” Jean begins, “but it might be best for outside the office. Maybe at a certain bar tomorrow night.”

You pause. Tomorrow is Saturday. The same day of the week you suggested Jean meet you six months ago, and he never showed.

“A Saturday appointment? You must be a hard worker.” You tease. “How can I guarantee you'll be there?” You push, refusing to be let down again.

“I think I know a way.” Jean holds up a business card and drops it on the floor. You frown, not quite understanding. He gets up and leaves the room. “I'll walk you out when you're ready,” he calls.

You get up from the exam chair and grab the card off the floor.

Jean Kirstein.

It lists his title as a dental hygienist, the clinic phone number and his work email – nothing personal or interesting, aside from his last name. You flip the card over.

His cell phone number is scrawled on the back. A smile spreads across your face. He must mean it this time.

You pocket the card and flounce out of the room and walk side-by-side with Jean down the hallway. “I just realized we didn't talk about scheduling your next appointment. Same time, same place?” He asks, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You realize just how tall this man is when you have to crane your next up to look at him as you reach the lobby.

“Works for me. The earlier the better.”

Your heart throbs with anticipation – and nerves. You dash out the door without saying goodbye.

“Shut up.” You hear Jean hiss as you leave, no doubt to the woman who was checking patients in for appointments.

You know you won't have to wait another six months to see Jean Kirstein.

~ ~ ~

You tap your fingers repeatedly on the edge of the bar table in a sort of rhythmic trance. It's Saturday evening and you're waiting to see if your dental hygienist shows up – if Jean Kirstein shows up. You remind yourself to refer to his actual name, not his occupation. A dark-haired man sitting nearby you catches your eyes with his bright green ones. Well, if Jean doesn't show up, at least there's something to look at, you think.

Before arriving at the bar, you agonized over what to wear while Pieck sat on your bed and gave nods of approval for outfits you liked. In the end, you chose a springy dress with a black leather jacket. Cute, but a little edgy.

You've already downed one gin and tonic to calm your nerves. Jean seemed to be pretty damn clear that he'd be here this time. And you have his number to text if he doesn't.

You dig your phone out of your purse, wondering if it's been long enough that you should text. You're just about to type out a message when -

“Hey there.” You look up, expecting warm, hazel eyes, but piercing green ones meet you instead. The man who's been trying to catch your attention all evening.

“Hi.” A smile spreads across your face. Though you'd rather see Jean, you can't help but smile an another attractive man – you're only human, after all.

“Eren,” the man introduces himself and offers a warm hand. You shake it, noticing the rough calluses. Eren clearly works out. “I couldn't help but notice you're here alone. Can I buy you drink? My time is free.” He offers a sly grin.

You consider Eren's offer for half a second, but a hand with long fingers claps down on his shoulder.

“Actually, she's here with me.”

An even bigger smile bursts across your face. Any notion of entertaining a night with someone else flees from your mind.

Jean is here.

“Sorry for the confusion,” you apologize to Eren, though you're really not that sorry. “Nice to meet you though,” you call out as he turns away, disgruntled.

“And I'm sorry I'm late,” Jean apologizes to you. “I got a bit uh, preoccupied.” He runs his hand through his ash brown hair. He looks different outside of the dental office. Younger and more nervous. More human. He's wearing dark jeans and an olive green button up, though the last couple buttons remain open, giving you an open view of his throat and a glimpse of his chest – which seems to be as well defined as you imagined.

“No worries,” you reassure him and use your straw to shuffle the ice in your mostly empty glass. “I'm glad you showed up this time.”

Jean places his hands on the chair in front of you and leans over slightly. “Yeesh, I'm not off to a great start, am I?” He asks, another apology written on his face. “I chickened out last time, if I'm being honest. I was nervous about,” he pauses to think, “professional boundaries.”

“I didn't get you in trouble, did I?” You tease.

“Nah,” he waves and laughs, giving you a full view of his teeth. Of course the guy who works at a dental office has perfect teeth. You wonder what they might feel like on your skin. Heat flushes your face. “Anyways – what are you drinking?” He points to your empty glass.

“Gin and tonic.” You raise your glass. Jean takes it and stalks off to the bar.

You shift to cross your legs and can't help but smile as Jean orders drinks for you two. You've never been this bold before, so you certainly didn't imagine the dental appointment encounter would turn in to anything – but here you are. And here is Jean, returning to your table with another gin and tonic for you and one for him.

“I think you had a good idea,” he says, sitting down and placing the drinks on your table. “Spring is the best time for gin.” He takes a sip and holds eye contact with you. You haven't even made physical contact tonight, but those earthy hazel eyes threaten to shatter every part of your being.

You nod in agreement and mirror Jean, taking a sip of your drink. “So, back to the professional boundaries,” you begin. “Leaving your number on the card was clever.”

Jean chuckles. “I was mulling over that one for days. I knew your appointment was coming up and I didn't want to mess it up this time.”

“And you couldn't take my number from my chart?” You smirk and play with your straw with your tongue. Jean is captivated by your swirling tongue.

“Definitely would've been a privacy violation. Dr. Ackerman would've had my ass if he ever found out. But nobody can fault me for dropping a business card that just happened to have my cell number on it.” He shrugs in mock innocence.

“That makes sense,” you nod, taking on a slightly more serious tone as you find yourself wondering more about Jean's life. “Which one is Dr. Ackerman?”

“Small guy with dark hair. Usually looks like someone just shoved something up his ass,” Jean laughs. You recall passing this doctor in the hallway – and his photo on the dental clinic website. “It's a wonder Dr. Zoe saw something in him.”

“Wait.” You tilt your head. “Dr. Zoe and Dr. Ackerman are together?” You're a bit bewildered by this, given Dr. Zoe's erratic nature and Dr. Ackerman's stoicism.

“Yep,” Jean answers and takes a swig of his drink. “Most people wouldn't know by the way they act. But yeah, they met in grad school and started this clinic together.”

“And how'd you end up at the clinic?” You're not usually one to chat about jobs – to you, they're fairly meaningless, but considering it's a major part of how you met Jean, you want to know more.

“Mmm, I always found human biology interesting. I thought it would be fun to specialize in something, so I shadowed Dr. Zoe for a few weeks on summer and they never let me go. They're also a part-time professor at the university I went to, so it was an easy in. They tried to convince me to continue schooling to be a dentist, but I prefer spending time with patients, which you ironically don't get to do as much when you're a doctor. And, to be honest, I didn't want to go to grad school any longer than I had to.”

“Amen to that.” You lift your drink up and you clink your glasses together. You had briefly considered grad school, but the though of dropping another few thousand dollars didn't sit right with you.

You ask Jean a few more questions and learn that he lives with two of his best friends from college, Connie Springer and Marco Bodt. Jean is an only child and frequently visits his parents in Trost. He played basketball and ran track when he was in high school, but gave up sports in college in favor of his studies – and an art club.

“An art club? For real?” You ask.

Jean chuckles. “You'd think science and art don't mix well, but I think they go hand-in-hand. I think there's something beautiful about human biology, so I used that for inspiration for a lot of my sketches.” He pauses and stares at you with a wistful gaze. “Anyways. What about you? What more should I know about you besides your perfect mouth?” Jean gives you a crooked smirk.

It's like a live wire flashes through you. It's strange, this combination of genuinely getting to know you – and suggestive flirting. This isn't exactly one-night stand behavior. You aren't sure what to expect, but you can't deny the magnetic pull toward Jean's mind and body.

You tell Jean about how you grew up in smaller town in the southern part of the region, but had always craved something bigger. You went to college in Jinae, a step up, but it still wasn't quite what you were looking for.

Jean perks up at this. “Jinae? Really? My roommate Marco grew up there. Any chance you know him?”

You shake your head. “Sorry, doesn't ring a bell. It's a big area.”

“Figured it was worth asking.” Jean places his chin on his hand. “So why didn't you stay in Jinae?”

“I, um,” you bite your bottom lip, wondering why you're about to confess this to a near stranger. And yet, there's a warmth and genuine curiosity about Jean that encourages you to open up. “I didn't have the easiest time making friends.” Jean tilts his head at you, silently asking for further explanation. “I had friends in classes and clubs, sure, but I rarely got an invite to hang out after class or on weekends.” Weekends were the bane of your existence in college. You had often wondered if you should transfer, but weren't willing to fill out the mountain of required paperwork. Your face burns, wondering what Jean thinks of your difficult time in college.

“So how'd you meet Pieck?” Jean picks up on your nerves and deftly moves the conversation forward. “It sounds like you two are pretty close.” Jean slurps down the last of his drink.

You explain that out of sheer boredom on weekends, during your senior year you signed up to volunteer to help maintain one of the campus wildflower gardens. Pieck was there too, and you two have been inseparable ever since. When she asked what your plans were after graduation, if you'd consider moving to the big city with her, and you jumped at the opportunity.

“Pieck is a spit fire,” you laugh and swirl your straw in your once again empty glass. “She keeps me alive.” You're not sure if it's the alcohol or Jean's gaze that warms you from head to toe.

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Jean winks. Under the table, his foot nudges yours and moves up and down, tracing the outline of your calf. Your insides shiver. “I'm done if you are,” Jean says as he shakes his glass, the ice chiming like a spring melody. “Want to get out of here and sober up a bit?”

“Definitely.”

~ ~ ~

Jean holds your hand and leads you down a winding stone path that connects to another right by the river. The two of you meander along the river and make idle chat. As a seasoned veteran of western Mitras, Jean gives you a fair amount of suggestions of places that you and Pieck can check out – coffee shops, bookstores, theaters, wine bars, etc.

“Oh, this is the best part,” he interrupts himself and pulls you across a bridge that matches the stone walkway. With his long legs, you have to half jog to keep up with Jean. He stops in the middle and leans back against the stone. You mirror him and take in the view of the city lights. It's like dancing fireflies in the night.

“This view is spectacular,” you breath.

“Yes, it is.”

You look up at Jean, but he's not looking at the city skyline. He's looking right at you. A sharp, spring wind cuts into you like a knife. You shiver and automatically lean in closer to Jean's body heat. You're close enough to smell his cologne – sandalwood?

Jean cups your face with his hand, and leans down to you. Your heart beat thunders as he draws closer and closer. He stops just inches away from your lips. You can see every shade of his earthy hazel eyes. Jean raises an eyebrow – a nonverbal question.

You smile and nod, closing your eyes.

Jean closes the gap.

The first kiss is soft, tentative.

Jean's other hand wanders to the back of your head, twisting his fingers in your hair. His grip is firm, yet gentle.

You place your hands on each of his arms, craving to touch his firm biceps without the jacket in the way.

Jean's tongue flicks to your lips, asking another nonverbal question.

You open your mouth, and his sweet and sour taste floods your senses. Your kisses grow hungrier. You're both desperate for more. Your hands wander up and down Jean's chest, begging to touch more, as are his, as he slips a warm hand under your dress, tracing your thighs while the other hand holds your hip.

Jean breaks away for a half second. “You taste as good as I imagined,” he murmurs and returns to your lips for more. “Better, actually,” he adds in between desperate kisses.

You pull away, head spinning.

You know exactly what you want, and given the look in Jean's eyes, you know what he wants too.

“Pieck is home tonight,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath. “Your place?”

Jean grimaces. “Marco and Connie have a few friends over.”

“Ah.” You slide your hands off Jean and look at the stone bridge beneath you. So much for ending with a bang – like Pieck said.

“Unless?” Jean raises an eyebrow and a mischievous look takes over his face.

~ ~ ~

“This is insane,” you giggle. Jean holds one of your hands while the other digs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to the dental clinic. “Won't someone be able to see that you've used your key fob?”

“Nah,” Jean says and pulls you through the door with him. “Sasha's the only one can see it – and she never does. I could always ask her to erase the history from the security system if I really need.”

The clinic is completely dark, except for a few security lights. The only sounds are your nervous giggles and Jean's breath. “This looks completely different now.”

“You're about to get a whole new perspective,” Jean grins. “C'mon.” He leans down and grabs you by the waist to throw you over his shoulder. You shriek and laugh, both from surprise and that Jean is strong enough to throw you over his shoulder like you're a sack of flour.

Jean walks all the way down the hallway and opens the door to the last exam room. The one you two were in yesterday.

“I'm ready for you,” he whispers and turns the dimmed lights on while still holding on to you with one hand.

Jean lays you down on the exam chair. You take your leather jacket off and lie down on your back.

This is indeed an entirely different perspective.

Jean crawls on top of you and kisses you with intensity, your tongues hungry, searching for more. You run your hands through his ash brown hair that he probably spent hours getting just right. Jean's hand creeps up under your dress again, this time wandering all the way up to your rib cage. His thumb strokes just along your bra line. Jean wiggles his hand under your bra and squeezes your breast. He runs his thumb back and forth over your nipple. You give a small shudder. You only breath when Jean takes a short kissing break to nip at your bottom lip. He's pinned your legs together with his knees, forceful enough to make you shiver, gentle enough to let you know you can stop any time.

But you don't want to stop.

You want more of Jean.

You break away and trace the outline of his face with your finger, his scruff gently scratching back at you.

“There's something I want,” you whisper. You close your mouth and poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, mirroring your actions from a previous appointment. Jean smirks in both surprise and wonder.

“You sure?” He asks as he undoes his belt buckle.

“Mmhmm.”

Jean unzips his pants and they fall to the ground, belt buckle clanging against the hard floor. His boxers fall to his knees.

“Open wide then, pretty baby.”

Jean grips the head piece of the exam chair and surges forward.

Enormous is the only way to describe the most intimate part of his body. Your eyes widen, unsure if he can fit in your mouth. No, there's no way.

But you're sure as hell going to try.

You stroke his dick up and down with tantalizing fingers. Jean groans, begging for more.

You lean forward slightly and lick the precum leaking from his tip. You run your tongue up and down his shaft. Jean twitches and moans louder in response.

“Be a good girl and take me,” he gasps.

You're more than happy to accept Jean's challenge.

You take in as much of Jean's dick as you can, sucking and salivating. Jean's groans turn guttural. His arms on either side of you shake and bulge.

You repeat the motions and use one hand to stroke the very last of him that you can't quite fit in your mouth. The bundle of nerves in between your legs flushes, wondering what Jean will feel like there.

“Hey. . .” Jean trails off in between moans, “I think I'm gonna-”

With Jean's warning, you lurch forward in attempt to swallow as much of him as you can.

Except when his tip nudges the back of your throat, your throat heaves. Your stomach jerks up to your throat. You involuntarily push Jean away and out of your mouth.

You turn your head away, mouth now empty, and cough up the saliva caught in your throat.

“Shit, you okay?” Jean lowers himself to make eye contact with you, his eyes frantic.

“I'm fine,” you sputter and wipe your mouth. His face softens.

“So you do have a sensitive gag reflex?”

“I told you!” You and Jean burst out laughing together at the ridiculous scene – the two of you tangled up together, breathless on a dental exam chair. “So you didn't. . .?”

“Not yet,” Jean winks. “You know, there's something I'd like as well.” He tugs at the hem of your dress. You lift up your arms up for Jean to take your dress off with ease. He tosses it to the ground.

Jean leans in for a few kisses, then trails his lips down your neck, your collarbone, and finally, to your breasts. Goosebumps prickling on your skin follow Jean's lips. He pauses at your breasts and savors them – taking one in his mouth and giving you a little nip.

A soft groan escapes your lips.

Jean looks up at you for a second, smirks and then bites a little harder as he marks your chest. He flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue before continuing his descent.

Jean kisses your stomach all the way down to your hips, where he bites down. You squirm and gasp – a blur between ticklish and pleasure.

He continues his path of kisses, down, down, down. You barely register that Jean slips off your panties. He parts your thighs and places them on top of his shoulders, granting himself a full view of the most intimate part of your body.

“Beautiful,” he whispers before he peppers your inner thighs with kisses. A spark ignites in between your legs. Jean teases your slit with his tongue, running up and down. Your entire body is a single flame, begging for more kindling.

“Jean, please,” you beg as you run your hands through his hair.

“Please what?” He pauses his teasing to grin up at you.

“Please. . .” you trail off and sigh as Jean resumes his teasing. “Play with my clit,” you gasp.

“C'mon now, darlin',” he purrs. “Be a good girl and wait for me.”

Jean parts your lips with his fingers and pushes his tongue inside you and trails up to your clit – but only with feather light pressure.

You whimper, craving more. You squirm and buck your hips, physically begging Jean. He grabs your hips, restraining you. You begin to drip.

He finally obliges.

Jean swirls his tongue around your bundle of nerves.

You release a high-pitched gasp and dig your nails into his arms.

Your body blazes into a roaring fire.

Jean is relentless in his efforts to make you cum, and you're both soon rewarded.

“J – Jean, I – I – I -” you gasp.

You can't get a thought, let alone a sentence, out before you climax.

Your body explodes into a wildfire. Several waves of tension and relaxation roll through you. Jean grips harder onto your hips and digs deeper with his tongue, keeping you going as long as he can.

As the last wave of pleasure collapses over you, you arms spill off the sides of the exam chair. Every muscle, every cell in your body has melted from your wildfire. Sparks ripple through your fingertips and toes.

“Wow,” you breath, unable to string together a coherent thought.

“Ready for more?” Jean grins and places his dick right at your entrance, rubbing up and down your slit, wetting his tip from you.

You jerk up and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Ah, wait, do you have-”

“Got it,” Jean answers and dives down to his pants to grab an unwrapped condom from his pocket.

“You came prepared,” you huff, still unable to return to your normal voice.

“Always am,” he gives you a sly smirk. “Uh, although,” he pauses, giving his statement a second thought. “Not that I always do this. You're the only person I've ever brought here,” he stammers, his earthy hazel eyes widening.

“Good.” You find Jean's back and forth bravado and awkward nerves endearing. You take the half-opened condom from him. You rip it all the way open and hand it back to him.

“I'm patiently waiting for you. Get it, because I'm also your patient?” You chuckle at your own bad joke and lie back down on the table, legs open.

“Yes, I get it,” Jean rolls his eyes and returns your smile as he rolls the condom on. “Are you ready for me?” He whispers, hovering over you, and kisses the shell of your ear.

“Ready.”

He nudges his tip at your entrance. Your lips part and stretch, making way for his length.

“All good?” He whispers. You nod and bite your lower lip in anticipation. “I'll go slow. Let me know if it hurts.”

“Mm'kay,” you breath as he sinks deeper into you. You grimace slightly as your walls adjust to his length. Jean pauses and raises his eyebrows at you. “Keep going,” you command and place your hands on his ass, urging him to melt deeper into you.

Jean obeys, sinking more and more until he's all the way inside you. He pumps slowly, glancing at you every so often to let you control his pace. Jean sighs with every stroke, worshiping your body as his hands wander and praise every inch of you. You release a mewl as his dick reaches your most sensitive spot, making your insides curl with pleasure.

“Right there, hmm?” Jean pumps harder and faster with a new desperation. He lifts your hips at a slight angle, closer to him – Jean can't get enough of you. He dives for your neck, sucking and biting, muffling his rising groans. “Need more,” he growls.

Without warning, he lifts you up off the chair and you curl around him like a koala, as if by second nature. You're slammed against the nearest wall, Jean still holding you by your thighs, and fucks you against the wall. You cling to him and rest your chin on his shoulder. His weight against you forces a breathy moan with every powerful stroke. Jean's dick reaches deep inside you, a spot you didn't even know existed releasing heat throughout your body. You rake your nails up and down his back as he rails into you over and over again.

“Soon,” he pants.

Curious, you lift your chin off Jean's shoulder and find his hazel eyes glazed over, drunk on you. His mouth is parted and a bead of sweat drips down his temple.

You give Jean a crooked smirk, and that pretty smile of yours is what pushes him over the edge.

He releases a moan of purse ecstasy, and chants your name like a prayer. His arms shake, but still hold you firm against the wall. You know he won't drop you until he's completely finished spilling into you.

After several final strokes, Jean carries you back over to the exam chair and collapses back on top of you. He rests his head on your breasts and you rhythmically stroke his ash brown hair.

As you both catch you breath, Jean looks back up at you with a devilish grin.

“So,” he starts and runs his pointer finger along your lips. “When do I get to see that pretty mouth again?”

“Definitely sooner than six months,” you say and nip at his finger.

“Good. I do want to see you again,” Jean confirms. “Outside the office. Very unprofessionally.”

“I think we can arrange another appointment,” you tease. “As long as I'm your star patient.”

“You are certainly the best patient I've ever had.”

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Funny Ducks

Alan Moore: [appearing in a clap of thunder] Poe: the arch magus! King: the arch magus! Moore: i have a story to tell Moore: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the sinister ducks

Moore: it's a song about ducks Moore: but it's not simply a song Moore: it is also a warning Moore: be afraid, foolish mortals, for the sinister ducks are coming Moore: watch the skies!

Alan Moore: Everyone thinks they’re such sweet little things! Moore: Soft downy feathers and nice little wings. Moore: But there’s a poison I’d like to administer Moore: You think they’re cuddly, but I think they’re sinister! Moore: Ducks! Ducks! Quack-quack! Quack-quack!

Moore: Ducks! Ducks! Quack-quack! Quack-quack! King: Koontz: Lovecraft: Poe: Barker: so uh Barker: what exactly are you trying to accomplish here

Barker: what the hell was that Poe: clive Poe: if the arch magus wants to sing a funny song about ducks Poe: you just let the arch magus sing a funny song about ducks Koontz: i liked it Poe: yes dean Koontz: i liked the part with the quacking! Poe: yes dean

Barker: are we supposed to be scared of ducks? Scott Baker: ducks?!? ducks?! Baker: [panicking] did someone say ducks?!? Poe: calm down scott Poe: there aren't any ducks Baker: [nervously] are you sure?? Baker: cuz ducks can be Baker: quite sinister!

Barker: what the hell was that about Moore: it's a song about ducks Moore: foolish mortals, you fail to grasp the unearthly power of this piece Moore: i'm thinking of sending it to dr demento Moore: i think it could even make the funny five

King: alan would you consider jamming with the rock bottom remainders Moore: foolish mortals, the arch magus is no mere singer of trifles! Moore: the auric emanations of this song sigil contain a mighty power Moore: equal or greater to that of a spike jones or even a stan freberg!

Moore: can you not feel the psychic vibrations of the great weave echoing in its departed notes? Moore: [lightning crackling from his fingers] truly i am the most powerful song sigil warlock of all! King: King: so King: is that a no on a rock bottom remainder jam session?

Moore: rock bottom remainders? Moore: impudent fool! the arch magus does not deign to perform for the pleasure of mere gut pluckers! Moore: this power… requires a proper display… Moore: just wait til i headline at FuMPFest!!!

Moore: this song sigil is as powerful as any cast by the mages of old Moore: not even the great warlock weird al yankovic could cast a spell of such magnitude! King: whoa whoa whoa alan careful there King: don't say something you can't take back

[sadesluvr]

Black Christmas - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt

Mike’s job as a park ranger becomes interesting when a mysterious couple stay five nights in a winter lodge.

A/N: HOLY FUCK. This is my longest and most tiring fic in a while (for all the right reasons) and I’m really excited to share it with you! It was loosely inspired by the req and work by @dilfbabie (HERE) but this has a festive, darker spin. This is for the people who voted for a Steve/William aligned reader, and is porn with plot. Further details in the tags, but this is reminiscent of a Jordan Peele film (aka the best kind of film), so dark themes lie ahead. I really hope you all enjoy it, consider it a Christmas gift ;)

Word count: 5.3K

Tags: SMUT (Porn with plot) / Slow burn / Fem! Reader / Threesome / Brief mentions of abuse / Alcohol usage / Oral sex, male receiving / Fingering / Blowjobs / Voyeurism / Cowgirl (position) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Psychological manipulation / Deception / Dub-Con (if you squint) / Cheating --- MINORS DNI

MONDAY

Mike had grown to find that being a park ranger was far more amusing than working as mall security. He loved being surrounded by the natural world, and the relatively isolated nature of the job - outside of being with his colleagues - meant that he had time alone. Time to think.

It was even more enjoyable in the winter, specifically the Christmas period, where he revelled in the contrast of the bustle of the shopping district with the tranquil sightings of caribou and squirrels.

It was standard procedure for the rangers to meet the guests of the lodges they inhabited, simply as an act of trust building. Today was no different, except for the fact that he was standing at the door of one of the largest and lavish buildings in the resort, which only meant one thing…Snobby, rich inhabitants.

When you answered the door, your lips parted in a brief moment of shock, adjusting your relaxed posture so that you were upright. 

“Hi…” you said, an unplaced smile appearing on the corner of your lips. “Can I help you Officer…?”

“Mike,” he quickly added. “I’m sure you’ve seen me in the pamphlet, but I’m your designated ranger for this district. I’m here for your safety,”

You seemed somewhat confused at this, but also rather appreciative.

“Thanks…” you replied, absentmindedly fiddling with your necklace. “We— Uh, we haven’t looked at that much yet, actually…”

Mike nodded. You’d probably just moved in, likely more desperate for a shower and a nap than read pages of menial information. 

“My pager codes should be taped to the wall in the kitchen. Outside of patrols and emergencies — weather, rabid animals, that sort of thing — I’ll shouldn’t be in your hair,”

You cocked your head, seemingly interested in something about him. He was cute; boyish in contrast to his position that was usually reserved for those with blatant machismo. You wondered how he got it in the first place.

You nodded back, fingers lingering on the door as you swung it. “Oh, well that’s great, thank —“

“Babe? Who is that? You’re taking an awful while to — Oh, hello Officer…?”

Your interaction was interrupted by an older, taller man who emerged from the stairs behind you. He was dressed in an off-yellow utility suit - likely for skiing - in which a purple sweater peeked out from underneath. His hair was groomed and he wore large, slightly out of fashion glasses. He rested an arm above you, leaning it on the doorframe, and Mike squinted as he noticed that you’d shifted uncomfortably at the movement before trying to compose yourself.

He was lost in his thoughts, temporarily oblivious to the fact that the man was staring at him expectedly. 

“ — Mike, “ he stammered, giving the man his name.

“Your badge says Michael,” he replied, matter of factly.

“I prefer Mike,”

“Hm,” the man mused, the grumble seemingly coming from the depths of his chest. “That’s odd. Usually you guys are referred to by your last name…”

Mike wasn’t sure about you, but this mysterious man was definitely a rich asshole. They always assumed they knew everything. 

“It’s Schimdt — Michael Schmidt…but please, Mike is fine,” he replied, shifting his weight and pursing his lips. Strangely, the man’s blue eyes widened, and he cocked his head, softening his demeanour. Your gaze was fixed to the floor uncomfortably, and Mike could only decipher that you were embarrassed by the man’s insistence. The entire thing was borderline uncomfortable.

Yet, at that moment, he smiled.

“The name’s Steve,” he perked up, extending his hand for the smaller man to shake. He took it, and the man’s grip was firm and assuring, leading Mike to believe that he was some kind of businessman.

“Thank you, Mike,” continued sincerely, his voice noticeably soft. “Hopefully we’ll see you around then,”

Mike blinked and glanced at you. You were still, almost motionless, with Steve protectively hovering over you. He could tell he’d interrupted something.

“You too,” he replied, beginning to back away as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Happy holidays.”

TUESDAY 

During the ins and outs of his job, Mike had been trying to rack his brain, wondering if he’d ever come across this ‘Steve’ before, but to no avail. Perhaps he’d just gotten the wrong person. Michael was a very common name, after all.

He wondered about you, though. You were certainly younger than him, and although he’d come across his share of problematic couples, there was something far more striking about you than the rest. Steve’s authoritarian presence, coupled with your seemingly shy, introverted own, was usually a cocktail that led to disaster. He wasn’t a cop, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep tabs on you, would it?

It seemed that the time would come quicker than expected. The next morning he’d received a ‘111’ message from your residence, and hadn’t wasted time in making his way up to see you.

Upon being let in, he quickly found out that you were alone, with Steve having run out for groceries. Apparently, you’d been hearing ‘rattling and shaking’ in the vents, and simply feared being home alone with the threat of a robbery looming over your head. He’d checked the vents, scoping the interior out for signs of damage or entry, quickly finding out that badger had made a home inside the walls, earning a good chuckle from the pair of you.

“I’m so embarrassed!” you’d gushed, and Mike had smiled slightly at your flustered demeanour. You were dressed rather nicely for an early morning, in a chic turtleneck, pants and a pair of Moon Boots. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that you either came from, or was in contact with a lot of money.

“No problem…” he chuckled, feeling the quiet instinct to pry. “So, Steve just left you here, even with the threat of an intruder?”

Your shoulders visibly dropped at the fact. 

“Pretty much…” you sighed, masking your nervous energy by removing a mug from the coffee machine, pouring some fixings into the liquid before taking a sip, exhaling deeply.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you sighed, and Mike stiffened at the way you were so sincere, eyes locked on his own as you seemingly read his mind. “You have a point, but I like that he doesn’t baby me. But it does scare the shit out of me, knowing that we’re basically in the wilderness. Anything could happen…!”

He nodded.

“Well, you’re more likely to be attacked by kids at Santa’s Grotto than a bear,” he laughed. “I wouldn’t worry…”

You smiled, gaze unwavering as you sipped the drink, admiring the rich taste on your tongue. It was as if you were a siren, beckoning him towards you with an indescribable aura. There was more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say it.

Biting the bullet, he cleared his throat. 

“Hey — This may not be my place, but is everything okay? When he came down the other day I saw you tense up,” Mike finished, and you let out a low hum as you contemplated the implications of his statement.

“We’re having a few issues,” you said, rolling your eyes, apparently brushing the situation off. “We’d been arguing a lot back home, and he booked this trip so we could regroup and stuff. I’m grateful, and I might even love him – but it doesn’t make me any less paranoid. I never know how he’s feeling, y’know? He’s a bit off sometimes…”

‘Off’. 

That was certainly one way to put it, Mike thought.

“...Does he hurt you?”

“God no,” you insisted. “He’s just — Well, let’s just say that he’s not all that open about his past,”

Silence. 

Mike let out a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips, musing on what you could’ve meant. He averted his gaze to glance around the cabin. It was rather lush, with floor to ceiling windows, marble countertops and rich oak accents; perhaps you were living beyond your means? Every item in his sight seemed relatively normal, blankets, keys, even a small Christmas tree with a few presents underneath. Still, it meant nothing. After all, nobody kept their secrets on display - no, those kinds of things were reserved for a bedroom…Or basement. Or the trunk of a car. Or in the psychological prison of the mind.

“…I should finish getting ready,” your voice interjected. “Thanks for the help, Mike,” you said sweetly, and he nodded before turning around and making his way to let himself out. As he placed a foot down the first step, something turned him around, and he was shocked to see that you weren’t far behind him. He hadn’t heard you follow him.

“By the way —“ he said, clearing his throat again. “I’m doing a patrol on Thursday, so I’ll be around…Just if you need to talk…”

He hoped he wasn’t being too forward.

You smiled, and this time Mike could see the emotion in your eyes.

“Good to know,”

WEDNESDAY 

One of the best things about the job were the treetop viewing platforms. It gave a 360 view of the resort, and Mike was able to see near and far with his pair of binoculars. It was certainly a task that Abby would’ve loved, if she were ever allowed to see him work.

On this particular morning, he was scoping out the usuals - people on the slopes, those taking photos, and the general assortment of vehicles that came in and out of the building. Still, he found himself looking westward toward the lodging you were living in. Call it paranoia, or call it doing his duty, he couldn’t pry himself from the familiar outline of the building.

All seemed normal, until he’d focused on the top window, the largest one of the house that sat behind a balcony. There was no sign of you on the outside, other than the table and chairs, but it was what was enclosed behind that glass that worried him.

Sure enough, you and Steve were there. He couldn’t make out from the resolution, but your face was pressed to the glass, with Steve behind you, clearly leaving little room for you to move. Mike felt his chest constrict, tongue swiping over his lips as he zoomed in, silently praying that you weren’t being hurt.

It turned out that hurt was the complete opposite of what you were undergoing. There you were; totally nude with Steve’s large arms around your throat, kissing your neck as he jerked, your body writhing about as he did. Mike knew all too well what you were doing, and it didn’t take long for the blood to rush from his cheeks to his cock, praying that his growing bulge wouldn’t be visible to anyone. 

Your eyes were half lidded as you scrambled to hold onto something, and Mike couldn’t help but wonder what your moans sounded like. Were you a screamer or a whimperer? Judging by the way the older man was ravishing you, it seemed to be somewhere in between the two.

Swallowing, he lowered the binoculars, pinching the bridge of his nose as he contemplated what he’d just done. There was no ridding the image from his mind, certainly not when he’d taken in every crevice of your body. He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets to try to suppress his base urges, storing the image securely for later.

THURSDAY 

Mike rubbed his eyes as he slid into the company car, ready to do his rounds. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. 

His grip remained firm on the steering wheel, carefully navigating the elevated roads. A fresh layer of snow had settled over the past day, and the last thing he needed was to skid off into the trees. It was funny that the winter wonderland around him couldn’t mask the fact it was in a place like this where his family’s life had been turned upside down — where his brother had been cruelly and callously taken…All under his watch.

Sometimes he couldn’t live with himself.

He was at the bottom of the final stretch of lodges when he noticed two figures trudging down the hill. Their arms were outstretched and faces scrunched - and Mike recognised you instantly. Steve was following after you whilst your arms were crossed, clearly having a temper tantrum of some kind. Squinting, he tried to make himself unnoticeable as he listened in.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want me to see her! I love kids!”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to see her, it’s just — Well, it’s not that easy…”

“How could this be difficult? I’m your girlfriend. She’s your daughter. Someday we’ll have to cross paths, right? Unless I’m some silly fling to you…”

“You’re not, okay? You know I love you. It’s complicated - Vanessa, she’s a little volatile —“

“I wonder where she gets that from,”

Frowning, Mike came out of the car, slamming the door with force to alert the two of you. He crossed his arms around his chest, scatters of snow crunching under his boots as he made his way towards you.

“Is there a problem?” 

“Mike,” Steve said, any specific emotion unreadable in his voice. He looked the man up and down as if to intimidate, but Mike didn’t budge. “…What’re you doing here?”

“My job,” He said sternly, to which you smirked. His eyes darted between the two of you, and he cocked his head. “Is there an issue here, or?”

Steve cast you a frosty glare, to which you rolled your eyes. Shaking yourself off, you assumed a stricter posture before focusing your attention onto the smaller man in front of you.

“Mike —“ you said, matter of factly. “Be a dear and give me a ride to the leisure centre. I need a masseuse… I have a knot that just won’t go away,”

There was nothing but fury in Steve’s eyes as Mike nodded, stepping to the side to allow you to pass through to the vehicle. As he opened the passenger door for you, he could feel the older man’s stare, burning a hole in his neck and seeping out his insides. Shutting the door, he walked round to the other side of the car, jaw ticking and lips pulled into a straight line. He barely knew Steve, but what he did know was that he was an asshole.

The car ride was silent for all of two minutes when Mike perked up, clearing his throat whilst his eyes remained on the road. He’d only snuck occasional glances at your thighs, and even then he was unable to rid the image of you nude.

“…Who’s Vanessa?”

You scoffed, slumping back in your seat as you lay your head against the car window.

“So you did hear,” you chuckled defeatedly. “His daughter. He doesn’t want me to see her,”

“Oh,” was all Mike could say, and he decided to let you draw the emotion out of your body yourself.

“I hate when he does this!” You exclaimed, arms folded. “He makes me feel so dirty! Like, what the fuck is he saying? That I’m not good enough to meet her?!”

“I’m sure that’s not the case…” Mike said softly. “I mean, if it were down to me, I know I’d love for my daughter and girlfriend to hang out, especially during the holidays,”

The statement caused you to smile, and you shook your head defeatedly. 

“I’m shacking it up with her father during the best time of year…” you said incredulously, looking out onto the icy white paradise around you. “She probably hates me…”

The thought of a girl being without her father on Christmas was enough to make you sob, salty tears pricking your eyes and eventually running down your cheeks. Covering your mouth, you let out a little whimper that alerted Mike, his kind brown eyes briefly leaving the road to watch your face. He wasted no time in pulling over, making sure the car was locked in position before he placed an arm on your shoulder, the sudden contact making you break down even more. Before he knew it, you were crying on his shoulder, hiding your face in the fleece-like insides of his jacket. The man remained quiet, but rubbed your back, narrowing his eyes as he tried to piece together your relationship.

He was beginning to lose himself in your scent when you pulled away, eyes red and slightly watery. Your faces were close, and you stared at him in a way that both made him feel guilty and aroused, eyes wide but enigmatic. He followed your gaze to his lips, and he slowly parted his own to exhale, hyper aware of the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Brushing your fingertips across his cheeks, you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, your taste bittersweet as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. He certainly hoped Steve wasn’t close behind, as he didn’t let go, instead parting his lips to whisper your name as your tongues began to dance against the others’. His hands were all over your body, and he was fairly certain that your hand had made his way to his pelvis, threatening to brush his cock.

He cursed himself when he gasped at the motion, which had caused you to pull away. As if you’d been under a spell, you felt flushed, stuck between wanting to leave the car and staying with Michael.

“Thank you…” you whispered, glancing down before looking out of the windshield. The reception to the rest of the resort wasn’t far from here, and you decided you needed to clear your head. “You’re a great guy, Mike.”

FRIDAY

It had been twelve hours since you’d shared a kiss with Mike, and he was beginning to think he’d known you forever. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, even when they’d received a severe weather warning at midday. Needless to say, he was excited to ring your particular lodge…Just as long as Steve didn’t answer.

“Hey, it’s Mike…We’re expecting a snowstorm in a couple of hours and we’re instituting a 7PM curfew,”

“Shit…Really?” You’d said, somewhat muffled, and Mike could hear you biting down on the fingertips of your thumb. “ I didn’t hear anything about this — Steve’s down at the casino…”

“I’m sure word will get to him,” he insisted. “Stay safe —“

“Wait, Mike? C-Can you come over? I want to make sure everything’s reinforced…”

It was apparent that you and Mike both knew that the lodges, especially the ones you were living in, were more than secure. You’d smiled and let out an exasperated, somewhat overdramatic ‘Thanks’, and had clasped your hands in front of you, leisurely strolling around the building as he confirmed the obvious. You seemed more free, whimsical even, dressed in a deep red couture tracksuit, perfectly painted toes on display. Perhaps the kiss, and Steve’s absence, had brought out the real you.

He didn’t know he could have such an effect on someone. 

As he clicked off his flashlight, he smirked at you, to which you returned, and drummed his hand on the countertops.

“Is everything okay, Officer?” you lulled.

“A-Ok,” he hummed, watching as you walked closer towards him, a mischievous grin in your eye. He froze slightly when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his front, but found himself relaxing into your touch, his own hands finding your hips.

“We have the house to ourselves…” you purred, beginning to stroke the back of his neck, causing him to twitch. He was simply too cute. “…And the view is lovely. But the company’s better…”

He nodded, lost in the way you began to pepper kisses to his neck and breath gently into his ear, that he hadn’t realised that the snow was beginning to fall…and it wasn’t about to stop.

“Shit…” he said under his breath, ruining the mood as he scrambled for his radio. He should’ve been back to the base a while ago.

“This is Mike calling in. The storm came in earlier than expected. I’m holed in at Lodge 305 waiting it out,”

“Received,” the static said. “Keep us updated.”

You could barely contain your enthusiasm at the fact, and Mike chuckled as you excitedly raced to the wine cabinet. It was going to be an interesting few hours.

LATER 

“…Part of me hopes Steve never comes back,” you slurred, wine bottle in hand as you sprawled out on the king bed, your tracksuit top since stripped, leaving you in a vest. It was obvious to Mike that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, neither. 

Mike snickered.

“You’re still mad at him?”

“Yup,” you said, popping your ‘P’. “Asshole tried to propose to me at dinner yesterday. I said no,”

He was astonished that you said it so casually.

“Woah…”

“I know,” you grinned. “Wine?”

He looked up at you uncertainly. Not necessarily because it was wrong, but because he had no idea where the night would lead him if he took even as much as a sip. “I-I can’t, I’m on the job,”

“Just a little?” You whined. “For me?”

You watched him intently as he gave in, sipping the drink and holding it on his tongue. When he realised you were staring at him, you broke into a smile, edging closer to him on the bed.

“I love that you take your job so seriously,” you cheesed, running your finger down his arm.   “Was this a boyhood dream?”

“Far from it,”

“Hm,” you said curiously, cocking your head. You’d been trying to figure Mike out for a while now. “So what’s the goal?” 

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just to see my sister happy, I guess,”

Your heart fluttered, and there was an incomparable sensation in your loins, biting up towards your stomach. Whether it was the alcohol, the heating, or something else - your body swelled, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You’re so sweet,” you cooed, in that oh-so famously position in front of his face, arms entangled in his.  “I love that about you, Mike,”

“Love?”

“I wish all guys were like you,” was all you said, and you thrust yourself on top of him, his back flat against the mattress. He didn’t stop you; letting you take charge as you straddled his torso, pressing your breasts against his chest as his hands found your body. He was insatiable, greedy yet very needy, and found himself succumbing to your every whim. 

Mike let out a whimper as you rubbed yourself gently along his clothed cock, growing irritated at the layer of fabric between you two. You nipped at his ear and giggled, dancing your hands along his body before you reached his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze before you went back to teasing him with your hips.

“D’ya want me, Mike?” you purred. “Say the word and I’ll be yours…”

“Mmfh…” he grumbled, trying and failing to pull himself away from you, particularly as his hands found your hardening nipples, desperate to take one between his teeth. “What about Steve?” He said from below you. “I could get fired, I —“

Cupping his face in your hands, you stared him down, voice almost emotionless as you spoke.

“Mike, you may not know it, but when you’re rich, you can get away with anything…”

That was enough confirmation as he needed as he arched his back, angling himself up into your kiss. He was both surprised and aroused at how firm your grip was on him, legs quite literally locking him down below you. Your wanting mouth was wide as your chest heaved, grinning down at him as you slid your arm back, down his pants to touch his hardened cock. 

Mike shut his eyes and groaned as you tugged on him, expertly sliding your hips down his body, fixing yourself into position so that you were level his penis, your ass in his face.

“Touch me, Mike,” you slurred as you took him in your mouth, giddy as he pulled down your sweats a crack so that he could massage your ass, fingers lingering by your lacy underwear. His touch sent chills down your spine, prompting you to take him further, tongue flat against the underside of his organ. His index finger slipped into your crevice, stroking your walls before he slid a finger into your pussy, making you whimper. It had been so long since Mike had been touched - and had touched someone in such a way - that he wasn’t planning on letting go of the feeling any time soon.

Even if your boyfriend came in.

“Babe? I’m sorry, I got caught up in —“ 

“Steve!” You said sweetly, releasing Mike from your mouth with a ‘pop’. “How nice of you to join us!”

The wording struck Michael as odd, but he chalked it down to the thick layer of condescension in your voice. 

Steve stared right past you and towards Mike, narrowing his eyes. The younger man swallowed, wanting to push you off of him, but found himself drawn to the silent aura of the man, much more the way a bulge was visible in his pants also. 

“I can explain—“ he stammered, exasperated as you played with him in your hands, index finger and thumb squeezing the tip as your eyes darted between the two men. How were you so relaxed about this?

“No need to worry about it, Mike,” Steve said, his tone surprisingly sympathetic as he zipped down his own pants. “I don’t mind sharing her...In fact, I love showing my darling off,” he grinned, almost sadistically as he bared his teeth and dimples. Steve placed his larger, calloused hands on your neck, his thumb brushing your cheek affectionately as he did. Mike felt somewhat betrayed by the way there was a glint of happiness in your eye; much more the way he pulled you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as you stroked the older man instead of him.

Once the pair of you pulled apart, his blue eyes were clouded with lust as he patted your cheek, thumb tracing your lips before he pulled away. You kissed the digit tentatively, chin in the air as you glanced down at Mike, silent, but smiling. 

Ironically, you were a healthy couple playing a twisted game, and you’d been in on it all along. 

Steve cleared his throat, loosening a button on his shirt as you span around, your own pelvis holding down Mike’s own. Mike should’ve despised the situation in its entirety, but the way his cock twitched was undeniable. It was as if this fucked up situation were unlocking something within him, and he didn’t know for how much longer he could hold it back.

“…I love the way men like you look at her and want nothing more than to fuck her brains out. Do you know what it feels like to win? To know that she’s yours?” Steve drawled, watching almost in admiration as you pulled off your sweats, sliding your underwear to the side as you lined up Mike’s cock with your entrance. 

“Of course you don’t,” he said condescendingly. “...Your life is about to be hell, Mike. You deserve something good…” The older man hissed, coincidentally aligning with the hiss from Mike’s own mouth who was too much in a state of ecstasy to register the comment. His precum was dribbling on your wet folds, and he longed for a bit of friction. 

You placed a hand on Mike’s chest, smiling down at him with the same expression he’d come to fall for in the first place, paired with your soft, unsuspecting voice. 

“Do you wanna fuck me, Mike? I bet you’d make me feel so good…”

“Y-Yeah..” he whimpered lowly, and he moaned as you sunk yourself onto his bare cock, gripping your body at the tight, wet pressure of your gummy walls. Steve hummed in amusement as he watched you begin to ride him; slowly at first, giving him enough leeway to insert himself into your mouth. 

He’d had you a million times before, but he never grew tired of the sensation. He gripped the back of your head as he moved your face up and down his shaft, groaning as he fucked your mouth in tandem.

“You’ve always been a maneater, haven’t you baby?” Steve cooed. “My little slut,” he spat, and Mike furrowed his brows, feeling his cock twitch in you at the statement. You were clearly just a few rich people with a perverted pastime, and he’d been taken as collateral. He’d probably feel disgusted in the morning, but as of right now he was in heaven.

You steadied yourself on Mike’s cock, pressing down a hand into his pelvis as Steve’s grip tightened on your face, greedy as one hand reached down to grope your breasts.

“Go on, Mike,” he chuckled arrogantly. “Give em a feel,”

You took Mike's hand in your own, throwing your head back at the sensation of being fondled and prodded by two men simultaneously. Steve’s cock was hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried into the fabric of his clothes, stray grey pubic hairs tickling your nose as he did. Mike’s dick was buried in you, and you were 99% sure you’d sheathed himself to the hilt. You hadn’t even needed to move your hips for that long, and Mike had begun to take agency as rock his hips up into your own, the skin-on-skin sounds borderline pornographic.

“Shit,” Mike whispered, feeling his stomach begin to knot up, and you gasped, talking around Steve’s cock that sent vibrations through the spectacled man’s lower half.

“Are you gonna cum, Mikey? You wanna fill this pussy up?” you teased, circling your hips uncontrollably, Mike’s penetrative thrusts becoming shallow but frequent. He groaned in response, and Steve chuckled, one hand your back so he stabilised you, making sure your lush lips were still attached to his shaft. Mike may have been getting the goods, but he owned you, and his pleasure came first. Even in a group of three. 

Feeling closer to your own orgasm, you slammed your hips down onto Mike, holding him in position as he came; desperately clutching the sheets as he spilled into you, mumbling to himself incoherently. Steve was gracious enough to pull himself from your mouth, a bridge of spit connecting you two as he did. Instinctively, you jerked him off, your warm hands sliding up and down effortlessly on his sloppy dick, still grinding your hips on Mike as he was beginning to come down from his high.

Steve came with a grumble, and it wasn’t long until you followed him after, grinning mischievously as fresh white trails of his seed painted your face. Glancing over at Mike - who looked totally spent - you ran your tongue along Steve’s pink shaft to clean him up, writhing as you stimulated Mike’s softening cock, producing a groan from the brunette. 

You were light headed as you fell back onto the sheets, smiling as Steve stroked your semi-nude body adoringly, lulling you off to sleep.

THE MORNING AFTER

Mike was awakened to a banging on the door, swearing under his breath as he contemplated how this looked. Sitting up, he scanned the room for a sign of you, or even Steve, but to no luck. 

He looked out of the window. The snowstorm was over.

Perhaps you’d just gone out for breakfast.

He hurried his clothes on, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to shake the hazy memories of the night before. He was just in time as an officer entered, worried as he saw his colleague enter with guns.

“W-What’s going on?” he asked, squinting. 

“We have a warrant for a visitor's arrest,” he drawled. “A Mr William Afton…?”

Mike frowned. The name wasn’t familiar.

The officer raised a brow, leaving the room once the coast was clear. As he did, Mike caught a glimpse of the poster in his back pocket, the face painfully recognisable. 

WANTED: Child abduction and murder.