#currently blogging from the kitchen floor

[ase-trollplays]

It could be something wrong with the power source on the computer.

Whatever the case, as soon as the ball is over I'm taking this bitch in to get looked at because the next time it kills itself, I have no outlets I can swap to. I just have to pray that it lasts until the ball ends.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pheromones

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, male receiving oral, idk if this is a warning but talk about his soft penis???

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“ive missed you so so much.” you tell rafe, arms wrapped around his shoulders, your face stuck into his neck, inhaling his scent that you've been devoid of all day.

“missed you too baby.” rafe rubs his hands over your back before picking you up, letting your legs cross over his waist while his hands grip your bum to hold you up as he walks into the kitchen, setting you down on the countertop.

“how was work?” you hum, not really interested in how his day went, you're too distracted by his smooth deep voice and the way his hands move as he prepared a sandwich for himself, always needing a little something to eat after he gets home from a long day.

“baby, are you even listening?” rafe questions, making your eyes shoot up to his face as he takes a bite of his sandwich.

you blush, knowing you've been caught. “im sorry.”

rafe laughs gently, moving between your legs as he finishes his sandwich, letting you pet your hands all over him, his thickly muscled arms, smooth planes of his cheeks, and wide strong chest.

you lean in once he finishes the sandwich, pressing your nose against his chest and inhaling, the unique scent of musk filling your head.

“come here.” rafe hums, hands coming to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to press a strong kiss against your lips. you immediately deepen it, tilting your head and pressing your chest against rafes as your mouth works against his.

rafe pulls away far too early for your liking, making you whine.

“oh shush baby.” rafe says, but the smile on his face shows that he's not mad at all, even if you are being a little bratty. “im gonna go shower.”

“nooo.” you grip onto his hand as he starts to move away.

“no?” rafe questions.

you sigh. you obviously have no problem with rafe being clean, but you also hate that the shower removes his natural scent, replacing it with whatever body wash you currently have in stock. it's an artificial scent, and while still good, it's nothing compared to rafes natural odor after all of that has worn off.

“i wanna suck you.” you simply say, sliding off the counter and onto your knees.

rafe smiles down at you, his hand coming to pet your cheek. “you're a desperate little thing, arent you?” rafe questions, and you're worried he's going to deny you, but he just takes your hand and helps you stand. “i don't want you to bruise your knees on the tile when we have that event on friday. you can suck me off in the living room.”

rafe leads you onto the carpeted floor, much softer so your skin wouldn't turn purple. you slide to your knees again, hands immediately coming to his pants, working the button and zipper open before tugging them down. rafe places his hands on his hips, looking down at you as you grip the band of his underwear, pulling it down to his knees next.

rafes cock is still soft, making you smile. you love when you get to bring him to hardness. you dont waste any time touching with your hands, wanting him in your mouth immediately.

when rafe is soft it's the only time you can fit him comfortably inside of your mouth. you take a deep breath of his scent, so intoxicating your mouth waters as you suck on his soft dick, your eyes rolling back in your head at the smooth pliable skin, tongue rubbing over his length.

“my pretty girl just couldn't resist, huh?” rafe questions, hands smoothing over your hair as he looks down at you, a loving gaze in his eyes despite the lewd nature of your actions.

“i love when your cock is soft like this.” you hum, licking over the shaft as it hardens under your tongue.

“you like it soft?” rafe laughs, hand gripping your hair as he guides your teasing kisses back to the head of his cock. you seperate your lips, taking it back into his mouth.

“mhm.” you nod, humming around his cock, your hand coming to grip the base of his length, stroking as you continue to suckle on the head. 

“but what about all the things i can do to you when im hard?” rafe questions, groaning when you pull off to answer, but your hand quickly makes up for it as you grip his now hardened length.

“i love that too, obviously. it's just so cute all soft.” you smile gently, looking at his cock lovingly.

“you are silly, babygirl.” rafe says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“i just love everything about you. everything about you is hot and cute and adorable and sexy and-”

“baby.” rafe cuts off your rambling, looking down at you expectantly. “you were sucking me off.”

“oh right, sorry!” you giggle, making up for the lapse in blowing him by taking his cock as deeply down your throat as you can, bobbing your head immediately, closing your eyes to concentrate on making him cum as quickly as possible, needing his flavor on your tongue.

“your mouth is spectacular.” rafe groans, hands gripping your hair, guiding you up and down his cock, knowing exactly how deep he can press before it's too much for you.

you pull off to blink up at rafe. “spectacular? really?” you giggle.

“shut up.” rafe groans, rolling his eyes with a smile playing at his lips. he shoves you back onto his cock, now beginning to thrust his hips as well to meet you, not caring when you cough or gag slightly.

“gonna cum in your mouth.” rafe says, and you nod slightly, humming around his cock as he continues fucking into your awaiting mouth. you suck as deeply as you can, anxious for his warm seed to spread along your tongue.

rafe releases with a groan, pushing his cock down your throat for the first couple spurts before pulling back, letting you suckle on the head of his cock while licking out every drop that you can.

you pull away to stick your tongue out for rafe, letting him see the mess of cum on your tongue before nodding to let you swallow it, which you do happily.

“can i go shower now baby?” rafe asks, helping you stand up as you stretch out your sore legs, but no bruises grace your knees.

“if i can shower with you.” you say, not ready to part from your boyfriend yet.

“if i can fuck you in the shower.” rafe says, laughing when you nod enthusiastically.

[greasebabexpress]

Small Town AU (Dinah)

Dinah works at the Starlight Diner along with Pearl, Tassita, and Belle

Belle typically works night shifts, Pearl does morning, and Tassita does the lunch shift.

Dinah will consistently have a morning shift with Pearl but Dinah is constantly picking up shifts throughout the week.

They all work Saturday and Sunday mornings when it’s the busiest

Dinah tends to pick up shifts because she likes to keep busy, when she was home from breaks during college she would end up picking up a new hobby and it would end up with her canning homemade jam in her kitchen at 2am.

Dinah is just the kind of girl who needs to have her schedule full

Dinah is not originally from the town of Starlight, but she was roommates with Belle in college who is from Starlight.

After graduating (and struggling to find a post-grad job) Belle mentioned that she was moving in with her childhood friend and invited Dinah to the extra bedroom

Belle, Tassita, and Dinah have been roommates and they rent the second floor of an old converted Victorian style house in town that’s been split up for apartments.

Dinah is consistently setting off the fire alarm since it’s so sensitive. She’s currently working on experimenting with different recipes, her dream is to publish a cookbook. Currently she has a blog that she will post some of her recipes to.

On Wednesdays Dinah runs a cooking class at the community center, it’s typically the same two or three grannies but she enjoys it nonetheless.

The grannies always tease her that “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” and that “men want a woman who can cook for them” and Dinah just smiles and nods because she doesn’t have the heart to tell them that she’s a raging lesbian.

It’s times like these that she wonders why she moved to such a small town to begin with, even if it was to be with her friends.

After meeting Greaseball and realizing that Momma actually convinced her to follow through with the youth sports coaching, every Wednesday after her cooking class she finds herself peaking into the gym to see if she’s still there or not

One week Dinah gets the courage to approach Greaseball, as she’s tidying up the gym from practice, and Dinah offered some of the leftover scones she had made in class.

This is single-handedly the nicest thing that has happened to Greaseball in the last three months since moving back to Starlight, and even though she doesn’t really know what a scone is, she feels compelled to make up the gesture

Greaseball offers Dinah a ride home from the community center in her truck and they end up parked outside of Dinah’s house for half an hour just talking.

Dinah now knows why she moved to town

[sukisuna]

Whatever it takes

Suna Rintarou x Fem!reader

wc :3.2k college!au. party setting, frat boy vibes- asshole!atsumu, loser!suna

this is my first full piece of writing on this blog, so i’m very rusty, i hope it’s enjoyed- i can make a taglist if enough people want to be on it but comments and suggestions are welcomed!

part 1 - part 2 (coming soon)

“God, why the fuck is she here?” He groans, lazily draped on the crowded couch. You know the sound of that whiney voice anywhere, if not too well.

“Who cares, she’s fucking hot.” Comes as the reply, you don’t know who said it but your eye twitches.

Miya Atsumu, you already knew who had said it. You’re currently standing near the kitchen island, you’ve got Kuroo on your left and to your right is Bokuto. You’ve been here a little over an hour, you’re laughing with them as they talk to Hinata. The music is blaring and there’s unattended drinks and bottles scattered everywhere.

You’re far enough away from the group of friends sitting around the couches near the living room, but not too far to where you can’t hear their conversation as you inconspicuously slightly tune out the group you came with to the party.

“ I mean, come on dude-“ Astumu whines to nobody in particular. “She comes to every single party, hottest chick on campus, and not a single person has gotten in her pants- what a waste.”

You can feel your eyebrow raise, it pisses you off but it’s true. You’re popular, very much more than to your liking. People gravitate towards you and can’t seem to understand why yourself, but you’re sweet to everyone and never hesitate to help someone to study or grab them a coffee when they look too worn out. You’re a music major for crying out loud, nothing grand about it. You make silly sounds by pulling your fingers against strings attached to some carved wood.

It’s not that impressive, at least that’s what you think. You’re not sure why you’re always around people, having conversations that you never start but always indulge yourself in, but that’s how it’s been the whole time you’ve been studying here.

You met Bokuto and Kuroo in the first semester, somehow managing to get lost yet again on your way to the music rooms, you had peeked your head through some double doors when you found a volleyball being hurled through the air towards your face. But it never reached, a massive hand sprawled out in front of your face shields the impact. silver and grey hair inches from your eyes frantically making sure you weren’t hurt and tall black-raven hair sprinting towards you to apologize profusely. That’s how you had met your current 2 best friends, the gist of it anyway. And they had dragged you off to every party that their college volleyball team held since.

You continue to listen as the conversation draws out. “I know what I’m doing tonight boys, I’m hitting that- whatever it takes.” A few amused laughs echo.

You don’t even need to be looking in their direction but the proclamation makes your blood boil. Whatever it takes? You could definitely be throwing your head back and laughing at that one later over tomorrow morning's debriefing with your 2 best friends, while you’re all sprawled over your apartment floor with greasy breakfast sandwiches between you 3.

You finally turn your head to look over at the group all gathered around the couches, you see some familiar faces. Most of them from the volleyball team, laughing and joking amongst each other.

One face sticks out in particular, sitting opposite from the couch where you had heard that familiar irritating voice of Astumu earlier.

Longer swooping tufts of hair that dangle around his face, narrowing eyes and expression of absolute disinterest.

His eyes slowly trace around the large open space, until they finally and slightly surprisingly meet yours. To anyone who’s not paying close attention, there’s no shift in his expression as his eyes bore towards yours across the room. His golden eyes slowly shift downward to back up to yours, eyebrows raising just the tiniest bit. His red solo cup perched against the corner of his mouth from where he holds it, the tiniest smirk shifts his lips upward for a split second before he finally takes a sip from his drink.

Ah, Suna Rintarou.

Yeah, you think you do know what you’re doing tonight. Whatever it takes, right Miya?

It’s been a while since you've made a move on anyone, not bothering since mostly focusing on your studies and not letting anyone distract you from your music mostly. There've been a few people that have caught your eye but none who have tried to really get to know you, so you have cut your losses and moved on. Bokuto and Kuroo have also kept you very busy and it's been a godsend, never letting you spend more than a day to yourself before you find yourself out at volleyball practices or all crowded around the local coffee shop’s tiny tables to study together.

A large heavy arm swings around your shoulder, heavy thick muscle pressing into your side. The motion pulls your attention from staring into your empty cup. “So, (Y/N)” it draws out, “Can i get ya a refill?” It’s Astumu, you already know that, not even bothering to turn your head to meet his eyes focused on yours. Audibly sighing, you pass your empty cup towards his opposite hand that rests on the edge of the counter. “I suppose you could” you answer, he chuckles in response. “Now I wouldn't be much of a good host if I didn't make sure every cup is full now would i?” You can just imagine the playful smirk that's cast upon his features as he squeezes you quickly with the arm that's draped over your shoulder.

The heat disappears from your side as he drags himself to the opposite side of the kitchen to skim the bottles laid along the counter, raising your head to look around the kitchen. Bokuto is standing next to Hinata while leaning against the large fridge, while the two of them are already making conversation with Astumu. Kuroo stands over near the hallway talking to a girl you don’t quite recognize, but she's cute you think. His face turns to yours meeting your eye, he raises an eyebrow as his face shifts slightly. You know it's his way of saying “everything good or you need a save?”

You've seen that expression almost a million times at one of these parties. Your eyes shift back to the girl thats standing beside him, you're not sure what they're talking about but there's a slight blush on her cheeks as he looks back down to her for a second, her head lowers for a minute as her hand tucks some of her hair behind her ear. Kuroo looks back at you quickly, you raise an eyebrow at him and give him a subtle thumbs up. It's your response as a “i'm good here, do your thing.” 

You look quickly back to Astumu, he’s completely immersed in his conversation with Hinata and Bokuto. You notice another figure standing with them, Osamu. Astsumu’s twin brother, you had forgotten they are twins, you definitely don't see him around these parties as much. He must be the busier and more tame twin. 

You take the opportunity to slip away from the kitchen island, making your way through the heavy crowd of people as the music blares much closer to the living room. You spot Kita, Akaashi and Suna on the couch together, you make your way towards around the back of the couch the 3 of them are perched on. Your hands place on the back of the couch as you lean forward in between Suna and Akaashi, as you shift your weight placing your elbows in between them on the back of the couch instead of your hands. 

“Is this the anti-social drinking club?” the two of them flinch before whipping their heads towards you on the back of the couch. “Didn't notice you there” Akaashi mumbles, his voice barely caught over the music. “Room for one more? The kitchen is a bit too crowded for me” you chuckle towards Akaashi, his eyebrows raise in response. “Yeah sure, you can have my spot. I was gonna go find Bokuto anyways.” His arm lands on the side of the couch as he gets up, looking towards Suna and makes eye contact with him before he turns to navigate through the crowd of people. 

You take the opportunity to lift your weight and hop over the back of the couch and land beside Suna and settle in beside him, you look around slightly before turning back to him. “Figured you weren’t gonna make a move, so thought i'd come to you.” you say to him and smirk slightly. His eyes widen a bit before he tilts his head to look at you fully, his hand coming up to bring the cup towards his lips before he speaks. “What if I didn't want to make a move?” his voice deep and words drawn out as he says it before taking a swig from his cup. You narrow your eyes at him, holding eye contact with him as you shrug. “Maybe you didn't or maybe you did, but I'm making mine. So, are you gonna let me down tonight?” 

He chokes lightly on the sip of his drink, before bringing it away from his mouth and raising his other hand to hit his chest once before he coughs a few times. He takes a few seconds before he responds. “You know, Astumu was making his move on you tonight. So what about him?”

You tilt your head and roll your eyes at Suna, “And, what about him?” you ask before continuing. “What about what I want, What if I don't want him?” He chuckles a bit before turning his body towards you more and draping his free hand over the back of the couch. “He’d be pretty upset at me, he wants to talk you pretty badly”

“Oh please” You sigh in response. “I heard his speech earlier, he's not interested in talking to me” 

Suna narrows his golden eyes towards yours again, brows furrowing. “And you think that I do?” his voice lowers as he leans towards you the tiniest bit. 

“I think you're more worried about him than whatever it is that you want” You raise a hand to curl your fingers and poke him in the chest once with your pointer finger. Before you raise your hand to take the cup he's been holding, raising it to your lips take a small sip before holding it as you watch his expression- his eyes watching your movements before they flick back up to yours as you push the cup back into the shape his fingers still have of the cup that was previously there.

He doesn't respond for a few moments before he says “Maybe I just don't want to deal with the tantrum he throws at me later for it.” his hand comes off the back of the couch as he brings it to his hair and pushes his fingers back through the dark strands of hair before putting back to its spot over the back of the couch. 

You huff a breath for a moment before pushing your lips into a tiny pout for a second, his eyes scanning your face. He sighs, he's known the whole time he’s wanted to talk to you but he's not exactly lying about Astumu throwing a fit about it later, he’d be pissed at him. And he's not exactly giving into himself, trying to push you away lightly with a smug attitude because he’d figure he wouldn't get a chance to talk to you, so he didn't bother to get his hopes up tonight. But, you're here tonight and you sought him out. Pushing Akaashi out of the spot he sat in previously beside him. 

His head turns scanning the crowd of people before he spots Akaashi in the kitchen, standing beside Bokuto, the two of them standing across from Astumu, Hinata and Osamu. He makes eye contact with Akaashi and his eyebrows raise back at Suna. Suna’s eyes flicker to Atsumu and back to Akaashi with a nod of his head. He can see the gears turning in his friend's head, before he gets a smirk in return and a head nod from Akaashi. The way of saying ‘I got you man’. He watches Akaashi sling an arm over Atsumu and turn his attention back towards the kitchen counter motioning back to all the bottles. He makes a mental note that he owes his dark haired friend big time later.

Suna turns his attention back to you, you're watching him, waiting. 

You huff a breath at him, thinking it's time to cut your losses before you embarrass yourself further, reminding yourself why you don't bother to put yourself out there.

“Well I'll take it that you're not interested so I'll probably head out then, guess I'm getting let down tonight” you chuckle lightly, shrinking into yourself a bit as you move to turn yourself away from him. “I'm sorry i bothered you” you say as you raise an arm to the back of your neck and sigh. You place your hands on the armrest of the couch and begin to slowly push your weight off the couch. 

As you turned away, you miss the expression that spreads across Suna’s face. His eyebrows shoot up, gold eyes wide open as he processes your words, he sees the way your face falls as you turn away from him. Shit, he really did push you away too much, all because of worry about Atsumu’s attitude later.

As you finally stand from the couch you don't take another look towards him. In the middle of your first step away from the couch, his body shoots forward. “Fuck” he mutters. His arm stretches out and his fingers dropping the cup he was previously holding falls towards the floor, he's not sure where it lands and he doesn't care. His long fingers snake around your wrist and grips tightly before he even processes the motion.

Your head whips around at the contact on your wrist, startling you. Your expression of shock meets Suna as your eyes trail from your wrist up to the arm that's outstretched.

“Fuck- I, I’m sorry” He pleads. He looks up at you, eyes wide and brows raised. You don’t think you’ve ever seen his face so expressive. You stare at him for a few seconds before you respond, “For what? I got shot down, it's cool” You chuckle lightly and your voice trails off. You give him a half light smile, your tone a little different from what it was before, he's not sure what it is but he doesn't like it.

“I did though” he pauses for a second before continuing on, trying to find the words. “I wanted to talk to you so bad, i have for so long but i didn’t want to get shot down by you, because you never seem interested in anyone so i didn’t want to waste your time because i’m really fucking boring and don’t know how to talk to people” he rambles on, he looks down slightly, he’s not sure what came over him but he feels like he just completely ruined any chance to talk to you further and you’ll probably completely avoid him after tonight.

His grip loosens off your wrist and he lets his arm fall down, he looks back up to you. You're staring back at him, still in shock. You smile at him, “well, what if i like boring?” his eyes widened again. He grabs your wrist again, and pulls you back towards him. You stand in between his legs as he relaxes back into his seat on the couch, he places his hands around the back of your thighs. “So, you're not gonna let me down again this time right?” you laugh while looking down at him. “That would be an astronomical fumble for me, I'd have to be an idiot to let that happen again.”

A hand grasps your shoulder, “well, what do we have here?” Astumu’s voice is cold behind you, you tense at the presence behind you. Your neck cranes to the side to peer up at him. His brown eyes narrowed and staring into yours. His jaw twitches with the strain of him clenching it together tight. You've never seen Atsumu this angry, you've seen his fits on the court but at this tension, you feel like prey under his piercing gaze directed into your widened eyes. Suna could feel the moment your body tensed together, his hands around the back of your thighs. He lightly rubs both of his thumbs along the fabric of the leggings you wore, in a small soothing motion. It's a reminder, he's here, he knows and can feel how nervous you feel. 

“I got your drink for you princess, but you ran away from me” 

Atsumu brings his other hand around and holds a cup in front of you, it's slightly indented with the force he holds it with. “That wasn’t very nice of you, when the host offers you a drink” you feel frozen with the way his words feel so heavy, like they slice through your skin, he holds an overwhelming intimidating presence standing over you.

Suna doesn’t even know what to say, if he even should. He's never seen his friend like this, so much anger locked in his jaw. He definitely doesn't want to provoke him, but he can feel your trembling under his hands, he hasn't moved an inch either. 

Your fingers twitch slightly as you raise a hand to reach the cup, Atsumu moves it slightly when you reach for it. Your eyes dart down from his to the movement of his hand, you can feel the eyes on you as your eyes dart around the room, a few people close to you are staring at the tension they most likely could almost feel over them as well.

Your eyes flick around the faces closest to you, desperately searching for Bokuto or Kuroo or anyone close enough, you can't see them anywhere close to you. It makes you even more nervous, you don't know what to do.

Suna’s voice finally cuts the silence, “Atsumu man, we were just talking. S’nothin man”

Atsumu’s gaze turns to him, voice taunting him “Just talking to the chick i just happened to be talking about earlier?” his head tilts and his grip on your shoulder gets slightly tighter, forcing you to wince, Suna’s eyes drift towards the grip Atsumu has on your shoulder then back to your eyes. “C’mon man, you're hurting her. Just let go of her.” 

“What, so you can swoop in and be the nice guy? Payback for all the times I've bagged chicks you wanted to talk to and slept with them huh?”

Suna’s head retracts for a second in shock before his eyes narrow and his brow pinches together tightly. What the hell? He doesn't think that would have taken him by shock as much as it did, he gets undertones that isn’t just about you but about him too, and he's not sure why.

“Atsumu man, if you have a problem with me man we can talk about it. You don't have to drag her into it, S’nothin to do with her.”

Suna tries hard to lightly defuse his best friend, he doesn't want to be too forward for how it might drag you farther into it, especially with how hard Atsumu is grasping your shoulder. But he doesn't understand why Atsumu is so angry about him talking to you. If he all wanted to just sleep with you then toss you aside like every other girl?

Right?

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed:”)

[fanficsbysteve]

Chasing Shadows

Note: You can thank @weewoo911 for this idea not leaving my brain so I had to write it before I could continue on my other WIPs. Thank you for this and I hope you enjoy. I’m ignoring the Abby thing because that was BS, and I don’t like it. This will probably be multiple chapters. All from Tommy’s POV cause its more fun to write. Not sure how many chapters though. I'll keep you posted as I write them.

AO3 Link

***

Tommy sat at the second floor table, his phone out, mindlessly scrolling through the various apps he had downloaded. Twitter, Tumblr, those kind of apps. The ones where you created a username and maintained some level of anonymity. He loved being able to spend time just looking at things he enjoyed without people knowing what he was doing or who he was. Lately all he had been doing though is reblogging images of actor Evan Buckley. Evan Buckley in “My Heart Yearns.” Evan Buckley in “Christmas in the Poconos.” Evan Buckley in “The Things That Ate You.” Evan Buckley in “What Happens Happened.” This man was currently the king of the B-Movies and Tommy loved every single one of them, owning many of them on DVD or Blu-ray so he could watch them over and over again.

Tommy was a gay man and was coming to terms with his homosexuality. He hadn’t told anyone in his life yet. That wasn’t any of their business. But he was slowly hating himself less as the days progressed. Maybe he would tell someone when he didn’t hate himself as much as he did, maybe Hen would be the best option. She was an out and proud lesbian with a loving wife, she wouldn’t judge him like he judged himself. He felt dirty looking at the pictures he did online. He felt horrible just thinking about the things that he wanted all those men to do to him. Particularly Evan Buckley. That man could do things that weren’t in any holy book to him, and Tommy would probably thank him for it. And it still made him feel dirty inside. Not nearly as much as others. Just a little. Nothing Evan Buckley did could make him feel completely like he was a horrible person going to hell.

So, Tommy was scrolling while they sat around the 118. It was quiet *knock on wood* and Tommy was enjoying the quiet time. They had finished all their various “chores” and Bobby was already cooking some dinner. Everyone knew to leave Bobby alone while he was in the kitchen, “Seen any good movies lately?” Chimney’s voice broke the silent revery that Tommy’s mind had taken. His real name was Howie Han, however everyone called him Chimney. Nobody really knows why, and Chim likes to keep it mysterious. Tommy thinks its because Chimney’s are tall and built well. However, their Chimney is anything but that.

Tommy looked up from his phone, “Nothing really. Just the usual B-movies that nobody really watches.”

“Why do you do that to yourself?” Hen asked looking up over the newspaper she had been reading, “They are always so painfully bad.”

“I know,” Tommy smiled, “But they make me laugh. You never watched Mystery Science Theatre 3000? They basically made a career out of watching the worst movies that cinema has to offer. And they are gloriously bad. Making up commentary for them is half the fun.”

“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” Chim replied, “I took Tatiana to see that new Marcel movie. Can’t remember what I was called but it was ok.”

“I’ll stick to my sappy RomComs and B-movies,” Tommy replied, “They never disappoint me to the point of forgetting a title.”

Tommy went back to his phone. He was on Tumblr right now, curating his queue, enjoying his timeline. It had taken him some time, but he had finally gotten it to the point where he enjoyed just spending hours scrolling, finding new posts for his own blog and queue. He admitted that he was a bit of an Evan Buckley stan account at this point. His posts were mostly either pics of Evan Buckley, gifs of Evan Buckley, videos of Evan Buckley, or stories written about Evan Buckley. He was just so handsome, and it made Tommy’s stomach turn itself over and over. From the tattoos that covered his body in special places, so that adorable little birthmark above his eye. Tommy wanted to plant a kiss on that mark so badly.

Tommy went to the kitchen to get another refill on coffee. He hadn’t slept much the night before but that was his own fault. He had gotten distracted by watching Evan Buckley movies and he just wanted to finish at least one. One lead to another and suddenly it was an hour before he had to get up and get ready for work. Tommy visibly yawned as he poured another cup, “Late night?” Bobby asked while he cooked.

“Just got distracted,” Tommy replied, “Didn’t realize what time it was and just didn’t end up sleeping much. Coffee is my best friend today.”

“I’ve had those nights,” Bobby smiled, “Usually they involved a beautiful woman.”

Tommy choked a bit on his coffee at the face that Bobby made at him, “um…uh…yeah…beautiful woman,” was all that Tommy managed to get out of his mouth before he hurried away, his face beet red.

He sat down in his chair and pulled his phone back out. He went back to his absent scrolling, smiling inside at all the new pictures of Evan Buckley that were appearing online recently. He had gotten a starring role in a TV show that hadn’t been announced yet, but Tommy was a premium member of the Evan Buckley fan club, so he got all the insider information. He admitted that it was childish to have that membership, but nobody knew who he was, and he was the only one who knew he had it, so why not. It got him all kinds of insider information, and he was a Millennial, so he was allowed to do this. Evan was supposed to be filming the pilot for this show he was cast in sometime in the next few months. Tommy would definitely be watching that show.

“Dinner’s ready,” Bobby announced as he put plates of food on the table. They always served family style, taking what you wanted from the plates and passing them along. It was a tradition that Bobby had started. It was never like this during the Gerrard Era or any of the other dozen chiefs they had since. Just Bobby wanted to make the changes that made working at the 118 better.

“So, I have an announcement to make,” Bobby said as everyone had plated up their meal and was starting to eat, “We will be having someone come and shadow us a little bit for the next few months. They will be filming a new show called HotShots soon. It’s a show about firefighters, and they want some of their actors to get some firsthand experience. To add to the realism. The higher ups have approved of this as they feel this would be really good PR for the LAFD. Several different stations have had different actors who have been cast in the show come shadow us for a bit.”

“Any idea who we got?” Chimney piped up, “Hopefully it’s Samantha Callens, I heard she was cast in something and maybe it was this. She can really learn what its like to be a female firefighter from our Hen here.”

“Shut it Chim,” Hen piped up.

“No, we have someone different,” Bobby said. He pulled out his phone to check his emails, “Give me a second here to find it. Ah yes, we have someone named Evan Buckley coming.”

Tommy did a spit take with the coffee he had just been drinking, sending it flying across the table. Nobody was sitting across from them so that was a blessing, “You know that guy?” Chim asked having dodged to the side to avoid the coffee, Chim was in the chair next to the spot opposite Tommy.

“No…not really…he’s just been in a couple movies I’ve watched,” Tommy stuttered, trying to wipe up the coffee he spat all over up.

“Well, he starts tomorrow,” Bobby said, “And I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour.”

Tommy sat down in his chair, his heart racing and threatening to burst out of his chest. Evan Buckley was going to be here, in the 118, with Tommy. Tommy silently took his phone out and looked at the top of his Tumblr page, staring at his username: kinardbuckleyxoxo was all it said. Tommy knew that it was going to be a long few months. Very pleasant. But also, very long.

***

Note: Chapter 1 complete. Chapter 2 the real fun begins. I usually try and make sure that I have at least a buffer of a few chapters going before I post but I wanted to get this out into the universe so that people can let me know if they enjoy it. So, leave me some comments and likes and give me any feedback you want. Also if anyone has a fun title idea, please let me know cause I'm at a loss. (I may have written this in an hour and a half after I woke up and saw the idea from @weewoo911)

[maximumzombiecreator]

Do you often use random dungeon layout generators for your megadungeons? If so, how do you make those randomly generated layouts make sense as a space? I find that the eclectic nature of how the dungeon ends up looking makes it feel weird to consider the area as a real space instead of as the output to a random generator.

I use a lot of random generation when I make megadungeons, but I pretty much never use a layout generator. That's a solution to a different problem from the one that I have. Creating an assortment of rooms connected in random ways is pretty easy for me. The problem, as you note, is making the space engaging, making it make sense, making the connections logical but also interesting, etc.

But I do think random generation is a great way to juice your creativity! Getting external input that you then have to fit your ideas into often produces better results than just trying to create on a blank slate.

My most common random tools are roll tables for generating dungeon rooms and features. Worlds Without Number is the first book I reach for for most random tables, and it has some pretty solid tables for generating rooms, features in the rooms, connections, etc. I also have a bunch of tables saved from OSR blogs for generating interesting traps or dungeon features. Honestly just rolling for the number of exits a space has is one of the simplest ways to force myself to think creatively. When the dice tell me a bedroom has six exits, it means I need to re-evaluate what that bedroom is doing and I probably need to create some unusual exits.

I will use geomorphs sometimes. These are basically bespoke little fragments of dungeon created to be shuffled and combined randomly. Dyson Logos has a bunch of these, and I know @imsobadatnicknames2 has a bunch as well. These are good for creating a bunch of interesting connections and clever tiny bits that are great for finding interesting uses for. I've never used these to generate a whole dungeon, but for small fragments I really like them. I also have a set of them handy when I run a sandbox campaign in case the players somehow end up in a dungeon I didn't prep for at all.

Now, if you do want to use a randomly generated layout, whether from some tool, a dice generator, geomorphs, whatever, I have some advice for making sense of it: embrace the second occupant effect.

It's very common in dungeons that the people who built the dungeon and the current occupants are not the same group. It's an orcish ruin occupied by dwarves, it's an ancient temple being used as a bandit hideout, it's a wizard's keep overrun by demons, etc. The question that a random layout is going to have you asking is, "Why is this constructed this way?" and it's perfectly okay for the answer to be, "there's nobody left who knows." What was this big room with seven entrances built for? Well, nobody knows, but the goblins living there are using it as a dining hall.

If you're designing using this approach, you don't need an answer for every space. You can instead approach it the same way its new occupants did. Take it for granted that this is the space that exists, how would the new occupants use it? That weird room off to the side that's a pain to access? Well, who knows what it was built for, but it's cold storage now. This weird thoroughfare makes a perfectly good guard checkpoint. This big hole in the floor might have been used for casting spells at some point, but now it's a garbage dump. In this way, it's easy to come up with what rooms are now that doesn't require you to answer what a room was built for.

Using this approach, you still want to have good answers for what a room's original purpose was some of the time. If the space just never makes sense, players will stop trying to engage with it logically, and that's a big loss. Plus, using this effect most effectively, you get a lot of value out of knowing the previous purpose of a room. It can be easy for every kitchen to feel similar, but a kitchen that's been built on what used to be a foundry is instantly more interesting and easier to get creative with. But you get to pick and choose the parts of a random layout that look interesting, or that you have an easy time answering for, and make those the parts where the original purpose shines through. And then in the spaces where you're left saying, "What is with this snarl of hallways?" you can just have the answer be, "it's a mystery. Scholars theorize it served a ritual purpose."

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: Baby Tax

Steve rogers x female! reader x Bucky Barnes/ Stucky x female!Reader

Warning: fluff, baby talk

Ian West Rogers- Barnes, formally known as Ian West, was 15 months old and had been in the Roger-Barnes home for seven months since being released from the hospital. After being told his younger mother's story, they also received her ashes as well. They now sat in the living room along with a picture of her. She would not be forgotten or replaced. 

The Rogers-Barnes family had come together to welcome Ian into the home. Ash took three months off of work to get to know her new little brother and take care of her parents, yes, parents. As she had read somewhere that new parents often struggled the first few months and didn't take care of themselves. And they weren't letting a lot of people around or help due to Ian's health issues. So she stuck around to make sure they had help, took care of themselves, and that they adjusted well to the new arrangement. Going for that Daughter of the Year award.

Steve and Rogers also took three whole months off and then returned to part-time routines. Part-time routines, as in they returned to work as part-timers, but they route which of them would go to work and who would stay home and work and switch every two weeks. Unless something important or urgent happened, one of them would always be home. And this arrangement would last for the next six months. 

(Y/n) however, was and would always be home as she was a licensed and veteran nurse, and Ian had health issues. She took the first four months off completely to focus on baby Ian and only returned to work from home. She also allows herself to be put on call, but only for emergencies. She would not return to the compound until Ian's health issues were resolved or were no longer a serious threat. Everyone understood and did their best to never need her. 

Seven months into this arrangement, everyone they should be was back to work, to some extent. And the parents had rightfully given up.

NOT give up on Baby Ian but given up on all the parenting books and mommy and daddy blogs, realizing that they weren't helping any and, if anything, were causing more frustration and creating unattainable standards. They simply did the best they could and as they pleased as long as baby came out healthy and happy. 

This is probably why Pepper was looking at (Y/n) so bewildered. 

Pepper was seven months pregnant and came over to ask for some parenting advice to help prepare. Now she was currently sitting at the kitchen counter and watching (Y/n) with Ian on her hip make a drink and watching Ian stick his little fingers in every ingredient she pulled out. 

"Um... is that sanitary?"Pepper asked as she held her glass of water closer. 

" His hands are clean, and it's only a little milk and whipped cream. The consequences will be in his diaper, and I'll pass that on to Steve." (Y/n) joked. 

"Does he always do this?" 

"If I'm holding him and making something, yes. He likes to taste mommy's food. I don't hold him while I use the stove and such."  (Y/n) gave him a pacifier so she could have her frappuccino in peace. 

"You said you wanted advice? Don't be afraid of germs or messes. This baby is very messy and touchy. I can assure you your baby's fingers will be in everything. Their mouth, your mouth, your hair, your food, everything." 

(Y/n) moved to the living room, and Pepper followed. She put Ian on the floor mat with some toys before joining her on the couch.

" I don't think I have a lot of advice, and the advice I do have, I don't want to"

Pepper looked at her, confused. 

"My baby has sleep apnea and underdeveloped lungs. I'm not going to give you advice on that, Pepper, because I pray your baby won't end up like that." It was then Pepper truly looked at her and realized how exhausted (Y/n) looked, not in the way of not sleeping but in the way of someone who worried and pulled out their hair. Someone who had experienced and felt so much that they just couldn't anymore. She could still feel, but she could no longer find it in herself to react to her feelings. 

" If you ever want-"

"Absolutely not."

"I didn't -"

"You were going to say, 'If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here'. No, Pepper, you worry about your own baby, but I'm not going to dump any of mine on you. I won't do that. Not right now, at least. Maybe once he's healthier and started biting my ankles. But not when he is like this... I'm sorry." 

"You're sorry?"

"You came for advice. I don't have much to give." 

 " But you have." Pepper pat her on the back " You have shown me little of what I am to prepare for. Tiredness, fingers in all my food."

"Bucky calls it the Baby Tax—payment for always having baby close. Don't be discouraged by the sanitary implication or the mess, Pepper. It's a very good price." 

"She's right," Steve said as he came around the corner. It was his time to be home. He kissed (Y/n) forehead and squeezed Pepper's shoulder before joining Ian on the floor. "I, too, thought it disgusting and unhealthy at first, but over time...it's just adorable now. In the realm of Baby taxing, keep your baby clean and watch what you eat or make. Everything should be fine."

"The way you talk, you'd think this was your 3rd baby," Pepper chuckled. 

"I think we just got into too many parent blogs and books. Dove head first into those too many expectations and high standards. I think those Blogs forget each situation, and each baby is different." Steve said as he pulled Ian onto his chest. " Hey, that's some good advice. Your baby is different from all the other babies in the world. Remember that, and You'll figure out the rest on your own."  

"While we can't give you advice on birthing or raising your pretty baby, I can advise you on cleaning messes and where to buy certain products such as toys, clothes, and food."

-

"How is prep going?" Bucky asked Tony. 

Tony was aware Pepper was at his house and caught a ride with him after work so he could bring his wife back without taking another car. 

"Prep?"

"Prep for the baby. You got less than 10 weeks left."

"Yeah, the nursery is done. Diapers, wipes, and toys—we got all the goods." Despite talking it out over the years and getting past the obvious, Tony found it awkward having this conversation with Bucky. The two weren't friends, more like a friend of my friend type of situation. Besides the initial short talk about his parents, the two had never had a conversation with just each other, nor were they ever left alone ( unless for work/a mission).

"That's good. If you need anything, Steve and I are here for dad stuff." That was definitely not what he was expecting. He didn't really know how to react to that.  They sat in silence for a few minutes with just that. 

"How is the dad stuff?"

"It's ah going pretty good. A few hick-ups, but that's to be expected.....It's actually ... I'm not having the problems I thought I would."

"Like what?" Tony asked cautiously.

"My arm," Bucky whispered, looking down at the medal appendage. Bucky had two different prosthetics. One for work - heavy vibranium metal, bulletproof, explosive proof, with super strength ( a quarter stronger than his actual strength), with a heating and cooling system. And one for home- lightweight, light Vibranium metal, bulletproof, with an attached nerve system, so he could feel everything like a normal hand. "Thank you, by the way."

"She knew you'd worry about it," Tony said. (Y/n) had approached him about Bucky's arm before they adopted the boy. She knew his fear and asked Tony to make something infant-friendly. Truly, all he did was make it more lightweight, take away the strength, and make sure he could feel his child with both hands. " I was happy to help."

"My dreams,"  while his trip to Wakanda cleared his mind, he still had nightmares from time to time and woke up violently. Fortunately, Steve and (Y/n) were always there to bring him back. "Work, enemies. We've got a lot."

"yeah, we do," Tony said. " Good thing we got Stark and super soldier security. No one is getting through our front door unless we want them to." 

"And if they do, we'll kill them."

"So violent." Tony walked back to his workbench.

" Don't dive into parenting books and blogs. That is my dadvice to you."

"Dadvice"

"Oh, diaper duty is your duty, at least for the first month." Tony made a stink face and shivered. Bucky Chuckled " Should have worn a condom then."

Inspired by Tiktok

[urhoneycombwitch]

I'm currently so bogged down with end of year college assignments and it's distracting me from the really important things in life (Eddie) (and also ur blog). I'll love you forever if you could please write something sweet and domestic (maybe smutty who knows) about reader coming home to babyboy after a long day of being busy and just catching up🥺💕

foreword: wrote this with linecook!Eddie in mind hope that’s ok! some fluff and comfort for ur dash <3

cw: fluff, food eating, soft Eddie who’s also kinda… soft!dom in this, gn!reader (pet names used)

wc: 1.2k

___

The long work day has finally caught up with you, hitting like a freight train just as you drag your weary self through Eddie’s door. Every limb feels heavy as you clumsily pull your arms from your coat sleeves, fingers blundering through the motions of unlacing your work boots.

“Eddie?” Even your voice sounds tired. There’s no sign of your boy in the living room or kitchen; you push open his bedroom door, only to still in the doorframe.

Eddie’s stretched out facedown on his bed, cheeks rosy with sleep and half-squished against the patchwork quilt. His hair is a riotous sprawl down the thin white tank top of his back, dark strands curling in on themselves with the rise and fall of his deep, slumbering breaths.

You tiptoe around the pile of his work clothes on the carpet- he must have just beat you home- and fondly stroke a hand down the slope of his back. He twitches in his sleep, hand tucked under his chest mindlessly seeking your affection.

You give in, for the time being. Strip down to your own underclothes, slot the length of your body next to his, let your bare legs tangle together while you nuzzle at the top of his head.

Eddie smells smoky and warm, like the cigarettes from his smoke breaks; he was on grill today, you think, maple pancakes and the heavy fattiness of bacon faint under the Irish Spring and cologne he’d dotted onto his neck this morning.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but the next thing you know, Eddie’s lips are pulling you from a dream, hazy with love. He kisses your cheek, the arch of your brow, strokes a ring-cooled knuckle down the column of your neck before kissing there, too.

“What d’ya want for dinner, angel?”

His voice is thick with sleep. Your lashes flutter in response.

“Mmm. A nap.”

Eddie chuckles, leans forward to mouth at the top of your shoulder. “How about pasta?”

You hum lightly in affirmation, sliding an elbow into the mattress to start getting up- but Eddie squeezes the meat of your arm, stilling your movements.

“Where you goin’?”

Through bleary eyes, you find the dark chocolate of Eddie’s, which are trained on your face with sparkling amusement.

“Uh. Was gonna help you? I’m not the only one who worked a long shift today-”

“Absolutely not.” His hair ripples over both shoulders as he shakes his head. “You think I’m lettin’ you be sous-chef after starting a fire in my damn kitchen? Forget about it.”

You scoff, defiant, pushing up into your arm to glare- “It was a paper towel that briefly caught alight. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Fat chance.” Eddie puts one big hand over the entirety of your face, pushing until you give, maneuvering your head back to the pillow. “I’m making pasta and you’re gonna lie here all pretty ‘til it’s done. Capiche?”

In answer, you pout, but close your eyes obediently- from experience, you know it’s pointless to argue.

He presses a final kiss to your temple, taking the warmth of his hands with him as he heads to the kitchen.

You doze for the next few minutes, sleep flirting at the edges of your mind, the clanking and bustling noises from down the hall a familiar backdrop that nearly lulls you back to dreamland.

“Soup’s on.” Eddie pads back into the room, light from the hallway cutting a bright path against the floor. His palm cups the side of your cheek, then slips down to pat at your hip. “C’mon. Up.”

He’s irritatingly pushy tonight- but then, he’s always in a mood until you’ve eaten something. That protective nature overrides Eddie’s deep desire to snuggle back up to you on the bed; he slides a hand around your wrist, coaxing gentle but firm until you’re on your feet.

A steady palm at your lower back guides you down the hall, to the dining chair. Buttery smells hang in the air, tantalizing as Eddie places two bowls on the table. There’s a steaming whorl of linguini in both, oily noodles flecked with pesto, roasted veggies gleaming in a colorful arc around one side.

You watch as Eddie quietly slides a fork across the scratched wood surface, settling into his own chair, leaning back with one eyebrow raised.

Out of habit, you pick up the fork to twirl around some pasta, stabbing a piece of broccoli on the end for good measure before taking a bite. The flavors flood in, rich and smooth, a low ‘mmm’ of approval- not solely for Eddie’s benefit. He’s a goddamn fantastic cook.

Satisfied with your reaction, Eddie digs in, too. A pleasant, quiet few minutes pass as you both eat. The last bits of light from the window above the sink dim, the sun giving way to dusk. From the distant forest, a mourning dove coos, and a Joni Mitchell song from a neighbor’s porch radio answers in fragments.

There’s soft lamplight from the adjoining living room, casting Eddie’s face in ochre glow as he scoots both your empty bowls to the side. He rises, then tsks at you when you reach for the dishes- “Don’t even think about it-” before pulling you with him towards the couch.

Stomach full and satiated, you allow yourself to be maneuvered by his hands once again- this time he settles on a couch cushion, tossing a pillow between his planted feet on the ground for you to sit.

“Hardly seems fair,” you argue, weakly, although you’re already sat, his thumbs pressing at the nape of your neck. “You already made dinner and now you’re… you…”

Your resolve gives out in a single move as Eddie starts massaging the tight muscles near your spine, snaking his fingers up with practiced pressure.

“Wha-at,” he complains back in equal measure, faux-pity more on the mocking side when he follows the line of muscle up into your scalp, working underneath your hair now with a scalp scratch that feels so good it should be illegal- “Can’t just let me take care of you? S’wrong with that?”

If you opened your mouth surely nothing but a moan or equally telling, garbled speech would escape, so you shut it. Let your neck loll and go lax into Eddie’s touch, sink deeper into the V of his legs.

He murmurs some praise in response, words that you’re too far gone to hear, but it’s accompanied by a quick brush of his lips to the crown of your head before his fingers soothe further up.

The Joni song ends, fades into the steady rhythm of Eddie working out all the tension from your muscles with loving hands, the promise of a comforting evening like a warm blanket around you both.

___

click here for more linecook!Eddie

[princessleechan]

"You're the man!" Chapter 36 WRITTEN CHAPTER (18+)

Masterlist

⚽Chapter tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, dry humping, longing and lusting, smutish/suggestive

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @thomawifey @middle-of-the-earth @okiedokrie-main @itsokaytobedumb00 @humankimbap @zezedoesshit @teenyfinds @jeonghansshitester @aaa-sia @heyitz00 @silvsie

It’s the second time you’ve decided to stay over at Soonyoung’s place, but things feel different than it did the first time. 

You set aside your emergency duffle—something you've made a habit of carrying ever since you started impersonating Yeonam—next to Soonyoung’s couch. Your feet touch Soonyoung’s apartment floor, and you take in the comforting scent of Soonyoung’s lived-in space.

Yep. You’re losing it. Or are just insanely horny with the right person at the right time.

"Make yourself comfortable. Don't be shy. Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Thanks." You follow him to the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the silence between you. He opens the fridge and pulls out a cold bottle, condensation forming on the glass as he turns back to you.

"Water?" he offers, extending the bottle toward you. As you reach out to take it, your fingers brush against his, a fleeting touch that sends a trail of electric currents through your skin, pebbling goosebumps. His touch is warm and lingering–like a gentle summer breeze on beach-kissed skin–sending delightful shivers down your spine and sending flutters to your chest.

You manage to hold his gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. "I hope I'm not making you nervous," he says, his voice low and reassuring, "at least not in a bad way."

As you take a sip, you peer at him curiously, letting the cold water wet your lips and flood your already dry throat. "What's the good kind?"

He grins. "The kind that makes you want to share a bed with me again."

Your heart does flips, and you press your lips together, trying to hide your smile as you nod. "Then maybe you do. The good kind, not the bad kind," you clarify, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Good,” He shuts the fridge, talking a leisure step towards you. “I never want to put you in a compromising position."

"I know you wouldn't."

"Well, unless..." he trails off, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You wait for him to finish but his eyes look away from you, subtle flush decorating his cheekbones. You lightly nudge him, eyes wide in tease. “Unless…?”

Your eyes lingered on each other, the tension thick, the already fragile ties of chastity between you tempting to snap. Soonyoung chuckled softly, deciding to restrain himself by walking away, the temptation tingling in his fingers as he clenched and unclenched them. "Nope. PG tonight. I can't have you throwing me off my literal game. Sharing a bed is as far as I'll risk it."

You roll your eyes, finishing the bottle before tossing it in the recycling bin. "Then, I'm gonna get ready for bed."

Soonyoung winces, biting his lips to suppress a tempted grin. "You say that like there's more to it."

"We'll have to see, won't we?" you reply impishly, retrieving your bag and heading to restroom.

Soonyoung can't help but trail behind you, his eyes tracing your every movement with an almost magnetic pull, captivated by each subtle gesture and shift. "I like you," he confesses, leaning casually against the bathroom door frame. His hands reach up to effortlessly embrace the door frame, a subtle display of restraint that somehow fails showcasing the veins bulging against his biceps that begs to be caressed. His grin is playful yet sincere, revealing more than just his intentions, even the ones he doesn't mean to. "But you're gonna have to keep your hands to yourself."

You scoff softly, a trace of skepticism lacing your voice. "I'm not the one you need to worry about."

Soonyoung lingers behind the closed bathroom door, his ears attuned to the sound of water flowing from the showerhead. A slow smile creeps across his face, reflecting a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. “I know,” he whispers under his breath, his fist tightening with excitement. He quickly dashes off, driven by the surge of anticipation to meticulously double-check the cleanliness of his room.

Meanwhile, you stand under the shower, letting the cool water cascade over your face. Each drop feels like a gentle relief against your burning skin, tense and taut from the thoughts racing through your head. You take a deep breath, feeling the rest of the stream rushing down your body in brisk anticipation. 

You have no idea what tonight might bring, how far things could escalate, or how much you're willing to reveal in his presence. Tonight holds the potential for change.

Tonight, you might finally tell him the honest cold truth.

You exhale deeply, letting the air rush out, cleansing every corner with the soap lathered in your hands—even those usually shielded from the sun—preparing yourself for any scenario. Soonyoung may be aiming for nothing for the evening, but that could shift in an instant, leaving both of you more drained than anticipated before the game the following day.

After finishing your shower, you step into the bedroom designated for tonight. Soonyoung is already there, lounging invitingly on what appears to be freshly changed sheets, his smile welcoming as he looks up at you. "There you are," he says warmly, patting the spot beside him. "Get comfy."

You can't help but return his smile as you approach and hop onto the mattress. The air carries a trace of his freshly applied cologne, attempting to mask but somehow enhancing his natural scent, creating an intoxicating blend. As you settle in, his arms envelop your back, guiding you snugly against him. The closeness allows you to feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours with barely enough distance to admire his features as he does yours.

He begins tracing the shape of your eyebrows, the bridge of your nose, and then the curve of your lips, all with his eyes. It's as if he's mesmerized by your features, finding familiarity and beauty in every line. You feel a flutter of discomfort, wondering if he's scrutinizing you too closely, afraid of being caught off guard so early in the evening. But before you can ease the tension, Soonyoung seizes it, firmly pulling you closer to him, his nose brushing against yours.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he confesses in a single breath. "You and your beautiful face, and long tangents.”

You let out a chortle, covering your mouth timidly as you drew closer. “I can’t help those.”

“It’s a compliment. Speak your mind all you want.”

“You have the attention span for it?” You lightly nudge. 

He tenderly knocks his forehead against yours. “You could go on about paint colors and you’d still have my attention.”

“I won’t put you through that misery.” Your hand combs through his hair, blown dry and sleek at the touch. Your fingers wander where they want to and massage into his scalp, watching his eyes delicately flutter shut as giggles leave his pretty lips.

His fingers wrap around your wrist, and the pads of his fingers caress your skin. “Don’t tease a guy.”

“I’m just playing with your hair.”

“It's not just my hair you’re playing with.” His hand slides down your back, following along the curve of your spine.

Your heart plummets, loosening the grip of your fingers before you reclaim his gaze, mischief playing a heavy hand. “Touchy, are we?”

“You started it.”

You muse back at him, melting into his touch, melting under his tender watch. “Soonyoung–”

His nose brushes against yours once more, tracing the bridge of your nose, his lips dangerously close. The single point of contact feels charged with a palpable ache, and you can't quite tell whose longing is louder. Your hands cup his cheeks, feeling the intense heat radiating from his skin against your cool palms. The only sounds now are the soft rustling of bodies against the bed, both of you struggling to get even closer, despite being already so near. “Why do I have a feeling there is a lot more to talk over DMs than in person, right now?” You hummed.

“Does that bother you?”

You shake your head, your nails lightly scraping against his skin. “I’ve got a good distraction.”

Your hips crushes against his, his presence of arousal brushing against your thigh, and you hear the sound of Soonyoung’s breath being hitched in his throat as you dig against between his legs. “Hey,” he utters breathlessly.

You let out a lethally soft moan, your flustered breath fanning Soonyoung’s face as you embrace the taut figure through his clothes, and gently grind against his arousal, feeding the voices in your head that call out to him. 

He claims your waist, gently gliding down to your hips, and rides high with you, taking every thrust and grind with stride. The bulge in his pants takes a newer, bigger life and whether you like it or not–which you definitely do–you could feel every inch, dragging you down deep and deeper to succumbing.

You levy yourself on top of him, looming over him before squeezing his torso between your thighs. His gaze flicks up to you in soft confusion, but his hands follow seamlessly, tracing over your body delicately and feeling every bump and crush of him against your body. You’re vibrating at his size, moaning from his touch, no doubt feeling your arousal soak through your clothes.

“Slow down,” he gasps, “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Is that what you want?” You drew your lips to his ear. “Really?”

He shakes his head, clawing up your body as his other hand cups between you both and feel the heat of your cunt radiating on his palm. “No. Not at all.”

Your lips would hover over one another, touching but not kissing, as if testing each other’s patience. Few words pass between you, both of you consumed by the assertive  touch of each other's movements. Soonyoung has to have everything in him not to take the plunge inside you right now but he knows what sex does and that’s warp his mind.

For a long time, he’s let sex take over his life, make it his reason to wake up, worm its way to every wrinkle of his brain, leading him to believe that it’s the solution to all his problems. And like any medicine, once you swallow a pill, you are done with that dosage. He can not let that happen to you. Not you. Never you.

But his urges are overpowering his desire for a deeper connection, one that he’d shame himself for hours later. He is nothing but weak in your presence and at the moment he craves you. “Please,” he begs helplessly.

“Please, what?”

Soonyoung fists around your clothes, bringing you closer as his thrusts grow frantic, voice brimming with plead and shame. He is overwhelmed with his lust and need, he can no longer deny himself of gratification, even if the clothes had to stay on. “Don’t stop…”

You can feel the sweat, the desperation, turmoil you’re going through. This feels good. Soonyoung feels good. You can only imagine what he’d feel like bare to his bones. How full he’s feel inside you, how slick it’d sound of him pushing in and out of you, how harsh the snaps of hips are as your skin collide. The thought alone–

“Oh my god, I’m close,” you give out. “I’m really fucking close.”

“Shit,” Soonyong replies, anguish tantalizing in his voice, “That’s so hot. I’m not even inside you yet.”

“Fuck you,” you chuckle, grinding deeper, his clothed erection practically poking hole through you. 

“I may be on the same boat,” he admits, his thrusts losing their control. “I just never thought you’d be first to say it…I could cum here right now with you on top of me.”

“Soonyoung…”

“I mean it.”

There is another word that needs to be said as it quickly takes a turn. He’s toppling over you. Nothing gets in your way, and Soonyoung makes it clear that it goes the same for him, that he’d show no mercy. Through the fabric of your clothes, you explode against each other. Through fits of want and greed, you embrace everything, breathing in pants and sweat like they’re life forces, until finally, a shot lands right in its goal.

Soonyoung clutches you fervently, his jaw slack as his release drowns his briefs then his sweatpants, thrusting his final jerks against you. You lay satisfied underneath him, in a daze from your own orgasm, only able to process and think about the look on his face: how perfect he truly looked above all. How natural he feels against you, you’re maybe the happiest and most relaxed you’ve been in a very long time. In that moment you realize, what more can you want?

“Fuck,” he sputters with a smile. “Now I have to change.”

He beams at you with a wicked smile before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t you head to the bathroom while I freshen up the sheets again?”

“I don’t mind a little sweat and grime,” you reassure him, moving closer.

“Please do as I ask, or you’ll make me want to tire myself out even more for the big game when it’s already,” he glances at his bedside digital clock, “one in the morning. I’ll make it up to you afterward, hmm?”

You let out a defeated sigh before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Fine. I’ll clean up, and maybe I can clean up you,” you say, brushing the dark stain on his sweatpants, “after.”

“Tempting,” he hums with intrigue.

You peel away from him, lifting your shirt slightly to cool off the perspiration on your skin, revealing just enough to tease Soonyoung. The effect is immediate—he leans back, eyes lingering appreciatively on the enticing sight. “I’ll be back,” you say with a playful glance.

“And I’ll be waiting.”

Soonyoung watches you leave with a contented grin, settling into bed in a state of deep bliss, savoring each calming breath. In this peaceful moment, a chime interrupts the tranquility—a sound that demands attention and brings focus to itself. For Soonyoung, who is basking in his happiness, this chime is unexpectedly out of place. That wasn’t what his phone sounds like.

His gaze follows the chime, landing on a phone on his dresser that seems oddly out of place yet vaguely familiar. It’s the phone you inadvertently left behind when you joined him in bed, seemingly forgotten in the moment. Intrigued, Soonyoung picks it up, curiosity growing as he notices the screen cluttered with an array of messages. The names flashing across the display are unmistakably familiar, each one sparking fleeting flashes of recognition in his mind.

As Soonyoung sifts through the flood of texts new and old, a sinking realization dawns on him. What has he done?

[seabirdtxt]

.Irminsul Push/Pull

You, the Creator, experience your first day with the world's weirdest roommates. [< prev] [Blog tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. mild swearing. very gentle puppet bullying, it's probably the cain instinct or smth. all relationships are currently platonic!

WC. 1.8k

----- ⚘ -----

You’re not super sure what you thought telepathic communication was going to feel like, probably assuming you would hear the voice of the other person saying their message out loud in your head.

In reality, it ends up being more like receiving a text message. In all caps. In your head.

GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE.

You sit up in your bed with a frown when the message suddenly crosses your mind. You check outside the mansion’s window, deeming it to be relatively early in the morning. Curious, you slide out from under the covers and shuffle your way downstairs.

Your curiosity quickly turns to irritation as you hear the sound of tools being thrown and voices arguing coming from the direction of Kabukimono’s room, the only currently inhabited room on the ground floor. 

You slowly push open the unlatched door and quickly duck to avoid a flying object—what is that? a pair of tongs?—that was aimed somewhere in the vicinity of your head. 

“- told you you can’t cook on the forge!” Kabukimono shouts, whiny and furiously stomping around, tossing loose tools around the room. Scaramouche is standing a little ways away from him, holding a bowl of ingredients with a bored look on his face.

“It’s a heat source, isn’t it?” The Balladeer asks, rolling his eyes. “If I can light it on fire, it can cook things.”

“No you can’t! I have to keep it way too hot to cook things,” Kabukimono scolds him, brandishing a metal poker in his direction. “And if you get food crumbs and oil in it, it might affect the quality of the metal! I won’t let you use it, and that’s final!”

“What else am I supposed to use, then?” Scaramouche growls, gesturing widely. “It’s not like this genius Creator of yours, in their boundless wisdom, made a kitchen.”

Whoops. Your eyes scan the room, surveying the damage, until your gaze lands on a terrified Cuppy hiding under a coat rack behind you, close to the door.

“Hey, buddy,” you whisper, inching closer to him. “D’you think you can turn one of the ground floor rooms into a kitchen really quick?”

The little teacup spirit nods frantically and disappears in a puff of smoke, presumably to fulfill your request as fast as possible. 

You look around the room again and spot Wanderer hovering above the other two, one leg crossed over the other in a pose hilariously similar to Ei when she’d been meditating in the Plane of Euthymia. You wave to catch his attention, and he looks over at you with a wry expression before zooming over to where you are.

“About time you got here,” he snarks, landing delicately beside you. “These idiots have been going at it for about twenty minutes now.” 

“I just asked Cuppy to make one of the rooms a kitchen,” you tell him. “I totally forgot about that, I don’t usually make a kitchen inside the Traveler’s teapot, so…”

“Yeah, you use the outdoor one, right?” 

You nod, having briefly forgotten that Wanderer had seen your layout of the Traveler’s realm before. As you’re musing on this, Wanderer darts forward and smacks the underside of Scaramouche’s bowl, causing it to escape the Balladeer’s grasp and sending ingredients flying in all directions, much to Kabukimono’s displeasure. 

“What the- why would you do that?!” Kabukimono wails, his argument interrupted. “Look at this mess! Niwa would have a heart attack if he saw this!” 

“Half of this garbage is yours,” Scaramouche points out, expression thunderous as he picks up one of the smaller prongs on the ground and uses it to take a swing at Wanderer, who takes to the air and floats out of reach with a smirk. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Wanderer says with a shrug. “I was just getting so sick of hearing you guys whining like babies for no reason.” 

“Okay, and you needed to waste perfectly good ingredients, why?” Scaramouche snaps, bending to pick up his now empty bowl and waving it at Wanderer threateningly, visibly restraining himself from flying off the handle.

“Because it’s not like you were gonna actually use them,” Wanderer snaps back. “I am you, and I know for a fact that you can barely make cup noodles if someone else did the preparation for you.” 

Scaramouche quickly turns red in the face as Kabukimono laughs at him, so you step in before another argument can break out.

“Guys, come on, I think Cuppy finished making a kitchen,” you say placatingly, hands outstretched and palms up. The three puppets look at you with varying levels of skepticism. 

You lead the way out of the trashed room, picking one of the other doors at random and hoping that it’s the one Cuppy chose. Mentally keeping your fingers crossed, you turn the knob and open the door, and freeze in the doorway, prompting at least two of the puppets to peer over your shoulder at the scene inside.

Cuppy did, indeed, choose this room. It’s one of the Mondstat-themed bedrooms, and what the teacup spirit did was put a single stove in the middle of the room and replace the bookshelves with jars and cupboards. Everything else about the decor, including the bed, carpet, and wardrobe, is the exact same.

Wanderer can’t seem to help himself about this, either, and bursts out laughing. 

“You call this a kitchen?” Scaramouche asks, pointing at the lonely stove sitting beside the Mond-style bed frame. 

“I think he did a great job,” you try, covering your mouth with one hand to hide your amused grin. Thankfully, it seems Cuppy made his escape as soon as he renovated, because he’s nowhere to be seen. 

“I don’t get it,” Kabukimono says, and you can feel him pushing someone (Scaramouche) behind you to see the rest of the room, to the person’s (Scaramouche’s) protests. “What’s so funny? A good stove and a well-stocked pantry is more than okay.” 

“And,” you interject through your repressed giggles, eager to defend your little teacup spirit. “Having a bed nearby just means you can lay back and relax while you wait for your food to cook!” 

“Are you serious right now? It’s just a stove in the middle of a bedroom!” Scaramouche protests, pushing you aside and stomping into the room. He points at the stove, and then at the carpet it’s sitting on. “This cannot be safe, right? This breaks all kinds of safety regulations.” 

“We’ll just move it aside, it’s fine,” you say, hoping to diffuse the situation. 

“It’s understandable,” Kabukimono agrees. “It’s not like he’s seen a proper kitchen before, right?”

Even Wanderer stops laughing as the three of you stare owlishly at Kabukimono, who shuffles nervously under the attention.

“What?” Kabukimono asks defensively. 

“I actually hadn’t thought of that,” you mutter, hands on your hips as you survey the room with new consideration. “He is pretty small, and who knows if he ventured outside of the realm before…” 

The other two remain silent, seemingly contemplating Kabukimono’s words but not voicing their opinions on it.

IS IT BAD THAT I FEEL BAD FOR LAUGHING?

You hide your flinch well, the sudden message scaring you out of your own thoughts. You steal a glance at Wanderer out of the corner of your eye, where he’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He doesn’t look you in the eye, instead pretending to be very interested with the shelf of ingredients near him.

‘I think that's just normal’ you think, hoping he somehow receives your thoughts as well. ‘I didn’t think of it either, so we’re all kinda wrong…’

While you’re distracted, Scaramouche has already started lighting the stove, having kicked aside the offending carpet, and browses the shelves for ingredients. He knocks on a few of the jars with a frown.

“... These are all empty.” He finally evaluates. 

“Yeah, that tracks, I don’t actually own anything yet,” you nod. “Everything I’ve ever collected is probably still with the Traveler.”

“Presumably they’d be willing to part with some of their stash,” Wanderer adds sarcastically. “I don’t think they really need several thousand of each ingredient they own.” 

“I mean, you never know, right?” You chuckle nervously, thinking of all the bag space your farming must have taken up. How does the Traveler’s inventory work outside of a game-mechanic perspective? You suppose you’re going to find out soon enough. 

“If you’re going out to get stuff, I’m coming with you,” Scaramouche declares, crossing his arms as if daring you to refuse his company. “No way am I staying in here with these guys.” 

You shrug, and Wanderer doesn’t protest either. “Yeah, that’s fine with me. I’ll head out now so we have time to sort and put everything away before lunch.” 

“Bold of you to assume we’re going to get anything done before lunch,” Wanderer mutters, herding Kabukimono out of the ‘kitchen’, promising the other puppet to help him clean up the mess in his room. 

“Are you ready to head out?” You ask Scaramouche, ignoring the jibe. You hold out your hand, which the Balladeer reluctantly takes, and you will yourselves out of the teapot realm.

You materialize in one of the alcoves of the Sanctuary of Surasthana, briefly disoriented by the change in location until you see Nahida and Aranyani sitting on the central dais, seemingly having a quiet conversation. Nahida spots you first, waving cheerfully at you both.

“Your Grace! Balladeer! Apologies for relocating you, but we decided that the chamber of Irminsul should remain uninhabited for now,” she explains, hands clasped together. “After all, it’s too easy to stumble and damage one of the branches of information, and I would hate for any of you to blame yourselves if that kind of accident were to happen.” 

“That’s fair, thanks for doing that for us!” you smile at her thoughtfulness. Still holding Scaramouche’s hand, you lead the two of you down to the central part of the chamber. “Do you know where the Traveler is? We wanted to ask if they could spare some of the materials I had collected from before I came here.” 

“Yes, we saw the Traveler earlier, but they went to fetch some people that Nahida recommended,” Aranyani says, picking up Nahida under her arms and putting the small god in her lap. Nahida doesn’t react, still smiling as Aranyani begins to play with her hair.

“Recommended for what?” Scaramouche asks before you get the chance to. You elbow him subtly, a warning to watch his tone. 

“To help us figure out how and why you’ve descended to Teyvat, Your Grace!” Nahida claps her hands together. “It will be good to know in case you need to go back home, or if you wish to return here from your world!”

You nod, grateful at the prospect of having that option. “Who did you call in for this?”

Aranyani cheerfully answers this for you: “The General Mahamatra, and a scholar named Alhaitham!” 

You share a quick look with Scaramouche.

“The linguistics guy, and the cop…?” You ask, with a slight wince.

“I don’t think you’re figuring this one out anytime soon.”

[goldenseresinretriever]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 5

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You glance at the GPS on the screen of your car again as you scan the street ahead of you. It’s situated on a quieter side of town and half the homes have beach access. Not at all where you’d pictured a single star-athlete in his early thirties to be living. It’s not like you expected a seedy bachelor pad riddled with used condoms and syphilis, but this was a neighborhood for the settled. Cookie cutter families walk along the sidewalks pushing strollers and chatting amongst each other. Kids ride their bikes unattended, safe in their suburban utopia. You and the well-loved car that you’ve had since you were sixteen are feeling slightly out of place in this picture-perfect neighborhood as if you’re a hopeless puppy tracking mud on a freshly cleaned kitchen floor.

The GPS chimes, alerting you that you’ve reached your destination. The house on your right looks a lot like the others on the street, a cozy suburban beach house. The driveway is empty so Jake’s truck must be parked in the garage. You pull into the free space, sighing as you scan the home for any clues about its owner. There’s none to be found. Curtains shield the inside of the house from view, and there’s no furniture or decoration on the porch. The only evidence of the house even being lived in is the freshly mowed lawn. You frown hoping that Jake hired someone to do that. The idea of him pushing a mower with his knee in its current state fills you with irritation. The idea of Jake, shirtless and sweaty pushing the mower fills you with more irritation. You shake your head to clear away the image, before getting out of the car, and heading up the short path to the door. You hesitate before knocking, wondering if you should have just stayed in the car and texted him to come out. You decide against it since he has his leg to worry about plus wrangling a dog. Speaking of Pudding, you’re saved the trouble of deciding to knock as a chorus of barking alerts her owner to your presence at the door. You hear a muffled voice amongst the barks as the door swings open to reveal Jake wrestling with the collar of a Tibetan mastiff with a glassy caramel coat who’s doing her best to get away from her owner so she can give you a proper welcome.

“Pud, come on, you need to settle down. Come on girl.” He urges the giant fluffball of joy. You drop to squat in front of her.

“Hey girl, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You reach out a hand for her to sniff only to have her instantly soak it with slobber as she gives it an enthusiastic lick that lets you know that you’ve long since passed the friendship test. You laugh and fish into your purse, pulling out a ziploc bag with a dog treat in it. At the sight of the treat, Pudding begins wagging her tail so hard she almost takes out her owner. You extend it to her and her giant tongue sweeps it up easily, and you watch it disappear into her gaping maw and she looks at you expectantly, her tongue lolling. “Sorry sweet girl, I don’t have anymore.” You say with a chuckle, reaching out to ruffle the fur on her head affectionately. She noses at your hand as if to say that all is forgiven. Finally, you turn to her owner who’s been watching the two of you fondly from where he’s casually leaning on the doorframe. “Hey.” You offer him.

“Hey, Bugs, you sure clean up something pretty.” You can’t help the flush that paints your cheeks at the compliment. You’re not wearing anything fancy by any means but you suppose the t-shirt and dress shorts are a far cry from the scrubs you wear at work.

“Thanks, you too.” He’s wearing a short-sleeve button-down and shorts of his own. The brace on his knee is clearly visible and you like how honesty looks in him.

“I’m glad you like it, I picked this shirt just for you. It really makes my great tits pop, don’t you think?” He puffs out his chest for emphasis and you want to die from mortification.

“Please forget I ever said that.” You plead.

Jake looks at you incredulously. “Of course not, Bugs. I don’t think I’m ever going to forget that.” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin. You scowl.

“Come on, Lola, let’s get going or we’re going to be late.” He laughs behind you as you turn to start heading to the car.

“Hey!” You don’t turn. “Bugs, where are you going?” You turn to see him still standing in the doorway, a confused look on his face.”

“To my car? Since I’m driving us?”

“Bunny you can’t possibly think we’re all gonna fit in there with my leg and Pudding.”

You glance from the pair in the house to your car and frown as you realize he’s right. Jake and Pudding join you and Jake nods at your car. “Pull out and I’ll open the garage and you can park in there. We’ll take the truck.” You look at him, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Jake, I can’t drive your truck!” He arches an eyebrow.

“And why not?”

“Are you kidding? It’s HUGE!” He chuckles, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“I’m sure you can handle it, sweetheart.” You feel your face flush at the innuendo.

“But you told me to remind you…” You try once more even as you feel your resolve slipping and start accepting the reality that you’re going to have to drive Jake’s behemoth of a truck.

He arches an eyebrow. “Remind me of what, Bunny?”

“You told me to remind you to never let me drive your truck.” You grumble as you unlock your car, getting ready to move it into the garage. He laughs at that and you try not to preen at the sound.

“That’s my Bunny, always so responsible.” He teases, patting your head gently. “Well now you’ve reminded me but my mind’s still made up, so hop to it, Bunny, and I’ll grab my keys. He ambles back into the house as you pull back out of the driveway, idling as the garage opens and you pull into the free space next to the truck.

Jake’s waiting for you, and he extends his hand to you, holding his keys. You hide your smile at the faded hockey stick keychain as you take them from him. Then you turn to face the beast, swallowing hard. Jake places a gentle hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to the driver’s side. He pulls open the door for you and you gape at the distance from the ground to the driver’s seat. You’re about to make a fool of yourself but at least you aren’t wearing a dress. Before you can even attempt the climb, though, Jake puts his hands on your hips and lifts you into the driver’s seat effortlessly. “Oh.” It’s all you can manage as his hands disappear as quickly as they appeared. He helps you adjust your seat and the mirrors and while you still feel overwhelmed by the size of the truck compared to your little car, you start to feel slightly at ease, but that could be the warm smell of leather and the cologne you’ve come to recognize as Jake’s. Jake makes his way around the truck, opening the back door so Pudding can jump in, before getting in himself. You’ve started the car and are familiarizing yourself with the controls. You take a deep breath, sitting back for a second, your hand resting on the gear shift, ready to move it into reverse. Jake’s hand covers yours, squeezing gently.

“You’ve got this, Bunny. I trust you.” It’s those words that give you the courage to shift into reverse and back out of Jake’s driveway as he leans over to hit the garage door control above your head.

***

Thirty minutes later you’re making your way through another suburban neighborhood on the other side of town. While Jake’s neighborhood looked unassumingly middle class, however, this one is clearly home to families in a significantly higher tax bracket. It makes sense, given the fact that Maverick is a multimillionaire but it’s not like he rolls up to work in a limousine every day. Instead, he drives a beat-up Kawasaki and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen the man wear a tie.

“Are Mav and Penny married?” Jake asks, his knees bouncing into the bottle of wine he has clutched in his left hand. You’d made a pit stop on your way, a tasteful and way too expensive flower bouquet in his other hand.

“No idea.” You say as you continue shamelessly ogling the real estate. “I don’t think I’ve seen a wedding ring, but I’ve never really looked.”

“Google doesn’t say he is.” You peek over to see the bouquet abandoned in Jake’s lap as he types into his phone, brows tight in concentration. “Have you met Penny?”

You shake your head before realizing he’s still looking at this phone. “No, I had planned to meet with her after the physicals were over to draw up individual nutrition plans for each of you. I haven’t run into her at the arena so the opportunity just hasn’t presented itself yet.” Jake nods absently, still scrolling.

“I didn’t even know we had a nutritionist.” He mutters.

“Holy shit.” He finally looks up as you murmur the words. The house ahead of you is gorgeous. It sits on top of a hill, nestled into a private culdesac. A massive yard wraps around the circular street, dotted with trees. A wide driveway leads up to what has to be a four-car garage. The house itself is a sprawling modern Victorian style complete with a circular pointed tower. It’s a house that looks both like it’s been transplanted from the northeast and right at home in Southern California. You’re both awestruck as you pull the car up the driveway and shift into park. You suddenly feel extremely underdressed as you take the bouquet from Jake’s lap and follow him up the pristinely paved walkway. As you climb up to the excessively large porch, you feel yourself relax. Up close the house is well-loved, with chipping paint and mud streaks far too old to scrub out. You smile softly at the thought of all the memories it must hold as Jake rings the doorbell.

A beautiful brunette woman answers the door, a big smile wide on her face. “Hey there! You must be Bugs and Jake. I’m Penny, it’s so nice to meet you both!” You go to shake her hand but she opts for a hug instead and she smells warm and homey in a way you can’t place. She leads the two of you through the house, taking the wine and flowers from each of you. The kitchen is a myriad of bright dishes and rich smells and you catch sight of Mav manning a grill through gorgeous wide windows overlooking a sprawling deck.

“Is there anything I can help with?” You ask as you watch Jake beeline for the back door to offer the same assistance to Maverick. Penny waves you off.

“No no, I’m pretty much done here, just getting things to the table. It’s so good to finally get to meet you, Bugs. I’ve been busy helping Ice with the administrative side of things so I haven’t been at the arena since you started. I look forward to working together.” She flashes you a motherly smile and you’re reminded of home.

“I’ve been meaning to reach out and introduce myself since I was hoping we could collaborate on getting the boys set up with individual nutrition plans but I figured it would be better to get their initial physicals out of the way so we had the most up to date information to work with. As a physician, I’m strongly against restrictive diets, especially for athletes, but so I think a more general nutrition plan would be a better approach.” Penny nods.

“Pete mentioned you’re extremely dedicated to your patients.” She gives you a conspiratorial smile as she directs her gaze out the window to where Jake and Mav are and you feel yourself flush even as your heart aches as your eyes latch on the knee brace.

“My first priority as a physician is always my patients and making sure they get the best possible care. The fact that there are physicians out there who put their own selfishness ahead of their patients kills me. Jake’s been hurt in a way that the Hippocratic oath should never have allowed.” You shake your head, your hands clenching on the chair you’re holding onto. “He put his trust in the people hired to prioritize his care and they betrayed him. I refuse to let that happen again.” Penny sets a gentle hand on your clenched one.

“He’s in good hands now.” You try to believe her, but the events from Cyclone’s office yesterday make that hard. A wet nose nudges against your hand and Pudding gazes up at you with worry in her eyes and you stroke her head softly. You’re saved from responding by Jake and Mav coming into the kitchen, arms laden with plates of meat. You dash to help them, taking a plate from Jake and giving him your best scolding look.

“SIT.” You pull out a chair, setting your hands on your hips. A thump across the room draws both your attention as Pudding sits. You snort a laugh before going back to glaring at Jake who’s still standing. “Pudding has been kind enough to prepare a visual aid, now if you don’t mind.” Jake rolls his eyes but sits all the same. “No unnecessary strain until we have a treatment plan in place, mister.” You give him a sympathetic look. You know how hard it is for athletes to give up control, this isn’t your first rodeo. “You’ll be back up and running in no time.” You say gently. “Baby steps, right?” He nods and you notice a softness in his eyes that you try not to think about any longer than you have to. You head back out with Mav to grab the last of the plates, while Jake chats with Penny as she brings dishes from the kitchen to the table.

As you’re all getting settled and starting to eat, Jake pipes up. “So how long have you two been married?” You fight the urge to snack him with the rib you’re holding. After the conversation in the car, you thought it had been evident that Penny and Mav are NOT married.

Maverick chokes on his wine and Penny laughs. “Oh, we’re not married.” Jake looks genuinely confused and you wonder if he’s maybe missing a screw.

“But all the family pictures in the hallway…” He trails off sheepishly. You’d barely been in the hallway for a minute or two, how did he notice family pictures, and get enough time to stare at them to conclude that Mav and Penny were married?

“Oh, that’s my daughter, Amelia, she’s from my first marriage,” Penny says with a chuckle. “We divorced a long while ago, before Pete and I got together.”

“And you two never got married?” Jake pushes and you wonder why he’s so curious.

“Well, that’s because, technically speaking, I’m still married.” Mav joins the conversation and Jake’s jaw drops so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t hit the table.

“You’re MARRIED?”

Maverick chuckles at Jake’s reaction. “Yup, a long time ago and we separated on good terms, but never finalized the divorce. There was never a reason to, so yeah I guess I’m still married.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“Who is she?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Sorry, that was so intrusive you don’t have to answer that.”

Mav waves you off. “You probably know of her, actually. She’s an NHL coach too.” The pieces fall into place all too quickly and you find yourself blurting out.

“Dare Mitchell is your WIFE?” It’s not rocket science. There are hardly any female coaches in the NHL, and there’s only one with the last name, Mitchell.

It’s Jake’s turn to choke on his wine. “Dare Mitchell? You’re married to THE Dare Mitchell?” His eyes are wide.

Maverick chuckles.“The one and only.”

“Holy SHIT.” Jake sits back in his chair, shocked into silence. You don’t blame him. Dare Mitchell is the best of the best. She’s been coaching for the Pittsburgh Penguins for the last 30-some years and is responsible for leading them to nothing short of five Stanley Cup wins. Her nickname, Dare, stands for Definitive Authority on Rink Education, or Referee Ejection depending on who you ask. She’s a force to be reckoned with and one of your personal heroes. Sure you were a Stars fan but every self-respecting hockey feminist worshiped the ground she walked on. She’d been the first female NHL coach when she started as an assistant coach for the Philadelphia Flyers and she’d not only broken the glass ceiling but now even the most misogynistic cynic puts respect on her name.

It shouldn’t have been such a shock that she was married to Pete Mitchell. Their careers had overlapped during his brief time with the Flyers before transferring to Anaheim but most people tended to forget that part of Maverick’s career. With the exception of the event that led to his move to Anaheim in the first place. If anything had ever been public about his relationship with or marriage to his coach, that had probably been buried by the tragedy that occurred shortly after. And now they were separated apparently. You wonder when that happened. Dare Mitchell was infamous for the lack of information on her personal life. Plenty of men had jumped to labeling her as undesirable and “impossible to deal with” due to her lack of a partner and seemingly single status. When asked about it in interviews, while she typically ignored such blatantly sexist questions, she occasionally responded along the lines of placing her career first, but now you know otherwise.

“I can’t believe Dare Mitchell is your WIFE.” Jake has come back to the conversation. Mav looks mildly uncomfortable at all the attention and you feel the need to change the subject for his sake.

“So, Maverick you mentioned wanting to talk about our game plan going forward?”

“Right, yes.” He claps his hands, sitting forward and you all return to your food. “Bugs, first I want your personal assessment of Jake’s condition. I know you mentioned some of that in Cyclone’s office earlier, but I think we should go over it with Jake present.” You nod in agreement, wiping your mouth and taking a sip of wine to clear your throat.

“Jake, we talked about this briefly this morning but you need to stay off your leg as much as possible at least until we’ve gotten all the necessary scans and tests done. I’m in the process of contacting some colleagues to get those scheduled as soon as I can.” You had a sneaking suspicion of how well that was going to go but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it now, there was a bigger issue at hand. You hesitate, wondering if now is the best time to bring this up. “I wanted to ask whether you’d be comfortable with me reaching out to your former physician on the Stars to get your initial test results. I just want to see them so we can compare them and get a better picture of your situation and how it's progressed. I don’t expect them to be particularly compliant, but I’m planning to ask Zam for guidance on getting the files without having to get lawyers involved. That’s only if you’re comfortable with me doing that.” You swallow. You know Jake’s had a long day and you can’t imagine how tired he must be, you know how exhausted you feel.

He nods slowly. “Do whatever you need to do, Bugs. Like I said, I’m in your hands now. If you think it’s necessary, do it.” You give him a small smile as your heart squeezes at the faith he’s putting in you.

“Are you actually planning to sue your former physician and coach?” Mav interrupts.

“WHAT?” This is news to you.

Mav puts his hands up in surrender. “He mentioned it in Cyclone’s office when he threatened to sue you for negligence.” Jake makes a low noise that sounds like a growl at the reminder of the events earlier in the day and you flush slightly at the memory.

“Honestly, I think I kind of checked out during all that…” you say, averting your eyes to your hands where they're fiddling with a rib bone on your plate. Jake’s hand comes into view as he takes one of yours and gives it a gentle squeeze and your eyes almost pop out of your head as your brain short circuits. You’re frozen, mortified at his audacity to do that in front of two of your colleagues let alone HIS COACH. You pull your hand from his grip, in what you hope is at least a slightly dignified way, depositing both hands in your lap, clasping them tightly.

“I don’t know.” He admits. “I think it’s definitely something to consider. It depends on how much of a case I have. We’ll probably have to get that comparison between my records to know for sure. Legal stuff isn’t really my strong suit.” He shrugs.

“You should talk to Zam about it, she’ll be the best person to ask,” Mav suggests, a fond smile crossing his face at the mention of the team’s PR rep. Jake nods in agreement. “Bugs you were saying?”

“Oh right, well that means no practice for Jake. You can do upper body work but no leg stuff period. I also think we could talk to Cyclone about hiring you a driver for the foreseeable future-“

“Or you could just drive me.” Jake interrupts nonchalantly.

“What?”

He shrugs. “You drove me here tonight, why not? I don’t want you having to deal with Cyclone any more than you have to, and suggesting hiring another employee will probably piss him off.”

“What doesn’t?” Maverick mutters under his breath. “It’s not such a bad idea, though. You’ll both be working together almost exclusively since Jake can’t practice so this way you’ll always get in at the same time.” You consider throwing the rib bone at Maverick.

“See, Bugs, we’ve got Coach’s blessing, what do you say? I’ll throw in breakfast on me.” He waggles his eyebrows like he’s just made an irrefutable offer. You sigh, realizing this isn’t really up for debate anymore, and Mav has a point.

“As long as you’re ready on time. Three strikes and you’re out.” You give him a pointed look. Jake breaks into a huge grin, offering you a mock salute.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” You roll your eyes.

***

The sun has long since disappeared from the sky as you, Jake, and Pudding make your way back to the truck. You’re walking slightly behind him so you can observe his movement as he awkwardly shuffle-hops with the brace keeping his knee stiff. You have a good feeling about his scans. For an untreated grade three tear, he doesn’t seem to have too much of a problem getting around. Today was an overall success but it’s created a brand new problem. Jake may trust you now but now he’s crossing professionalism lines left and right and you can’t help the way your anxiety threatens to choke you at the idea of Cyclone getting the wrong idea. Not to mention the fact that your body seemed to have a mind of its own when it came to him. You’ve been out of the game for too long. So much so that your body reacts naturally to his touch. You’d thought you’d have no problem avoiding his advances given the precarious nature of your situation but here you were being betrayed by your own body and mind. And now he had talked you into spending even more one-on-one time together OUTSIDE of work. You needed to lay down some ground rules.

You approach the truck where Jake’s patiently waiting by the driver’s side door, holding it open for you. Your cheeks flush as he scoops you up and deposits you in the seat without a moment’s hesitation before handing you the keys and hobbling around the other side of the truck and letting Pudding into the back while you start the engine. You swallow hard, drumming your fingers on the wheel nervously as you back out of the driveway. The two of you wave to Maverick and Penny on the porch as you drive away. Not even five minutes pass when Jake breaks the silence.

“What is it?”

“What’s what?” You don’t take your eyes off the road, your fingers drumming harder.

“You’re nervous.” You finally turn to glance at him and he gives a pointed glance in the direction of your drumming fingers. You stop the motion immediately, hesitating before you say.

“We need to talk.” He nods, encouraging you to continue. “I appreciate you trusting me, Jake, I really do, but if we’re going to be spending this much time together especially with me driving you now, I need to set some ground rules.”

“What kind of rules, Bugs?” His expression is guarded when you glance at him. You sigh.

“Jake I realize things are going to be complicated because we’re simultaneously coworkers and you’re also my patient, but like I’ve told you, my first duty is always to my patients. That being said, I need you to understand that you’re my patient first and my coworker second. That relationship takes precedence for me, at least while you’re injured.”

“And what about our friendship?”

“What?” You’re caught off guard by his question.

“Where does our friendship fall into your list of priorities? I’m your coworker, I’m your patient, and I was starting to think I was your friend too.” He pauses. “Or was that an incorrect assumption?” Your heart skips and your breath catches.

“No, uh, I mean yes Jake I would say we’re friends… or at least on our way there.” You trip over your words as you struggle to focus on the road and Jake’s brazen words. “I want to be your friend.” The words escape against your better judgment and you see the faint smile that ghosts Jake’s lips. “But that’s going to have to be strictly outside of work. Look, I’m pretty sure Cyclone thinks we’re dating or halfway there because he’s kind of a paranoid control freak in case you haven’t noticed.” You give a nervous laugh. He doesn’t know the half of it. “And if he's convinced? That breaks my oath as a doctor, Jake. I won’t just lose my job, I could lose my license.” You swallow hard. “So if you could just…” you trail off, not knowing how to phrase it.

“Keep my distance.” He finishes.

“More like just keep things professional.” He chuckles at that.

“Bugs, all my previous physicians were old men. That’s never been a problem before.”

“Then pretend I’m an old man.” He barks a surprised laugh.

“Bugs.”

“Lola.” You turn to look at him as he grins and winks.

“You’re one smoking hot old man.” Your face flushes beet red and you whip your head back to the road, unable to look at him.

“Relax, Bunny, you did say you thought I had great tits this morning so I figured I’d even up the score before we go full professional mode.” You can hear his grin. You roll your eyes, your face still blazing.

You’re quiet for a while before you interrupt the silence “Thank you, Jake.” He waits so long to answer you start to wonder if he heard you.

“For what, Bunny?”

“For all of it.” You pause. “Especially for respecting my boundaries.”

“You heard me earlier. We’re a team. If you go, I go, so I can’t let you leave that easily, Bunny.” He pauses. “After all, I’m a fighter.” You smile at that.

“Yeah? Me too.” You give him a shy look and he returns it with one of pure warmth and the silence is comfortable as you drive him home.

[daisyishedwig]

I was tagged by @bitbybitwrites and I'm so excited to get back into writing this year. Last year I set a crazy reading goal for myself and did almost nothing else, but this year I want to get back into my other hobbies, writing especially, so hopefully you'll see more of these!

This is from a little something I've been messing around with, it doesn't have a title yet, but it's currently labeled as "Ghost!Blaine AU" in my files.

The second time Sebastian brought a boy home they made it all the way to the bedroom before he heard a loud crash from the kitchen and had to pull himself away from the tangle of limbs to investigate. All of his cabinets were open and the contents had been dumped on the floor. Bowls, plates, cups, food, all of it. The boy was standing in the middle of it, looking shaky and breathing heavily. 

“Out,” he barked, and it was the first time Sebastian had ever heard him speak. His eyes flickered with rage and when all the lights went out, Sebastian’s date, once again, ran for the hills. 

Sebastian closed the door behind him and leaned against it heavily for a moment before he steeled himself and moved swiftly to his room. Rifling through the few unpacked boxes in his closet he retrieved a small but ornate box and a rosary. He stalked back to the kitchen and walked right up to the boy still standing among the wreckage, his shoes crunching on broken glass.

“Do you know what this is?” Sebastian asked, presenting the box. The boy startled back a few steps when Sebastian locked eyes with him. The lights flickered with the boy’s unsteady breathing. 

“I-I–”

“It’s a sealing box, currently empty, purchased the day I signed the lease to this place.”

The boy’s eyes were wide and terrified. He backed up a few more paces but Sebastian followed until he was backed into the cabinet behind him, his back bent at an awkward angle as he tried to lean further away from Sebastian, but all that did was give Sebastian more height to tower over the cowering ghost. 

“It’s a lot of work to exoricse a spirit, work I wasn’t particularly keen on doing when you seemed harmless, but now?”

“I’m-I’m sorry,” the boy said, his voice nearly a whimper.

“Do I have to use it? Or can you keep your blatant homophobia in check?” 

“Im not… that’s not–”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him but he wouldn’t meet Sebastian’s expectant stare. 

“It won’t happen again,” he said softly. 

“Good,” Sebastian said sharply. 

He opened the box and dropped the rosary back inside before setting it on the counter. The boy flinched but didn’t do more than straighten up when Sebastian moved away from him.

This week I'll tag @calsvoid, @lusthurts, @kurtsascot, @sperrywink, @fallevs

@shame-is-a-wasted-emotion, @wowbright, @lady-divine-writes, @backslashdelta, @cryscendo

@katyobsesses, @leydhawk, @polvmetis,

@andersonsmythe, @sandy1907, @andyandersmythe, @annepi-blog, and @kayla6

and anyone else who wants to participate!

[devil-doms]

Forbidden (Barbatos)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS/BLANK BLOGS DNI. NO AGE IN BIO = BLOCKED

CW: GN!MC, Maid/Butler!MC

x

“MC, do you happen to be busy?” You hear the other butlers voice come from the kitchen, “I could use your assistance.”

“Of course.” You nod and enter the kitchen. Sprawled across the counters was a variety of ingredients.

"I was tasked by Beelzebub and Asmodeus to make a cake from the human world, if you wouldn't mind helping me, I just want to double check I'm doing this the right way."

You pick up the recipe book and start listing off the ingredients, Barb quickly runs around the kitchen, collecting the ingredients and mixing everything together.

"This is just a normal cake, yes?" You ask him.

"In a way, yes. It's a surprise cake. Asmo had seen it on Devilgram, Beel caught wind and they had both requested it." He pulls the spatula from the mix, "Would you mind taste testing this for me?"

"Not at all." You reply.

Barb holds the spatula in front of your face and you lick it. You nod your head in approval and he softly smiles at you. You watch Barb pours the batter into several circular cake pans, then place them into the oven.

You now had about roughly 20 minutes until they needed to be removed. Barb started moving the used dishes to the sink as you wiped down the counter.

You jump when you feel his hand lightly touch your side, "Excuse me, I just need to get by you." He reaches for the cabinet beside your head to put some of the ingredients back.

He slightly presses himself against your ass as he does so. You don't say anything, just softly smile to yourself. Then your mind starts racing, would this count as "forbidden" if you and Barb were both servants of the Brothers? There was no rule against this, no?

You realize Barbs hand was still lingering, you turn your head and are met eye-to-eye with the butler. You're unsure what to do from here, act professional, or act like a fool.

You decided to act like a fool, "You have some batter on your face..." You reach for his cheek, rubbing it off with your thumb. Before you could wipe it off your hand, he grabs your wrist.

"The towel is currently dirty, here, I'll get it." Slowly, Barb slides your thumb into his mouth, licking the batter off. You turn to look away, completely embarrassed and on edge. He removes your thumb, "Oh dear, my apologies, I must have read the room wrong."

"No, its not that," You glance out the kitchen entrance, "What if someone catches us?"

"It seems we must be careful then, yes?" He pulls you in a little bit more.

"I guess so..." You smile at him.

Barb looks at the time for the cakes, "We have about 10 minutes."

You nod and nervously drop your pants, the thought of one of the brothers walking in on the two of you made your heart beat out of your chest.

Before you could let any of that get to your head, Barb had you bent over the counter, and within seconds you felt him push his cock inside you. You quickly cover your mouth to muffle any moans.

As Barb slowly begins to pump into you, you felt a cold, slightly went sensation twist up your leg. You shiver once it reaches your sex. Your body tenses up around him, causing Barb to bite his knuckle to keep from moaning.

He thrusts into you harder, causing his tail to slap against your sex, it was absolutely driving you crazy. You arch your back and grab onto the counter, taking all his weight.

His cock feels so good inside you. He fucks you faster and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm. You cover your mouth as you climax, Barb does the same as he releases into your ass. The warm liquid runs down your legs and you slowly lower yourself to the floor to compose yourself.

You look up at Barb from the floor, he was already composed and currently cleaning himself up. He looks down at you and smiles devilishly.

"Barbatos! How's the cake doing my dear?" Asmos voice echo's into the kitchen.

You quickly pull your pants back up and stand up at the counter, still a bit frazzled. You could still feel Barb inside you.

Barb opens the oven door, pulling out the cake pans from within it, "We're just about done in here, we have to let them cool, add the filling and then decorate."

"Lovely! Come get me when you get to the decorating stage!" Asmo says, then leaves the room.

Barb turns to look at you, "Seems like we have another 10 minutes..."

[torawro]

QUIET PERCEPTION. ( neuvillette )

neuvillette x plus size!fem!reader

cw ━━ ! minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written as plus sized/thick, and also as a black woman but you do not have to imagine it as such, anyone is welcome to read. fiancé!reader. just fluffy, lovey dovey stuff <3 neuvi still actively trying to understand him being completely in love with you and the fact you love him back. neuvillette is (un)intentionally is romantic and charming. use of endearment terms in french ( i so desperately wanted to be creative with pet names but i'm still tryna get a read on his character so i decided to play it safe LMAO). some locations (i.e. where neuvilette lives) may not be canon; i just pulled info from different sites. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 2.06k

notes ━━ ! this'll be something short n sweet <3 i could have sworn that i've written about a genshin character before but looking back, it seems as if i was mistaken :D i definitely have several concepts/wips about genshin charas but i never got to finish them so . . . . here's to my first genshin piece 🥂 i imagined my first would be abt zhongli or diluc ( bc i adore them until the end of time ) but fate has changed <3 this handsome gorgeous man came out of nowhere and captured my heart and won't let go. @gabzlovesu , i actually did it :)

THE STEADY STREAM OF pouring water was the only constant sound that resonated throughout the spacious estate of the Chief Justice of Fontaine. The extravagant windows had the blinds drawn, so the luminescence of the moon was free to shine as it pleased, and take a peek inside the many walls of the home of the ludex.

Inside the master bedroom laid the Chief Justice himself, and you, his dearest fiancé, wrapped securely and loving in his arms.

Well, you were wrapped in his arms.

The space where you were previously laid would soon be vacant, as you found yourself having odd, after-midnight cravings of a certain kind of tea. Despite your obvious sleepiness and exhaustion, your brain would not rest, and kept generating memories about the last time you've had the pleasure to make yourself this beverage and imagined how good it would taste at this hour of the night.

When all is quiet, in sound and in mind, one would have more of an opportunity to really savor something. You reasoned that the tea was bound to taste even better if you drank it now, which was all the motivation you needed to gently maneuver yourself from underneath your fiancé's rather anchored hold on you. It took you quite some time to do so because you didn't want to wake him up. For someone that worked the way he did, he deserved as much undisturbed rest as possible.

Adjusting the bonnet on your head, you slid your bare feet into your slippers that sat at the corner of your bed. The hard marble and tile floors were a lot colder at night when they couldn't be warmed up by the rays of the sun.

You took your time making your way to the kitchen and pantry area. The manner in which you ambled about the corridors━ your cream colored night gown wading at your ankles, flowing with each step you took━ made you akin to a ghost in a haunted mansion.

Once you reached your destination, you went straight ahead and grabbed all the ingredients you would need at a leisurely pace, taking more fulfillment in making a simple cup of tea than you normally do. Usually, you would have thought the whole process was annoyingly long-winded, but this time it was different.

Maybe it's because it was quiet. Your mind was quiet. Your heart was quiet; there was no rush. You allowed yourself to relax, to bask in the tranquility of the moment.

The soft clinks of metal and porcelain, as well as the delicate sound of your humming voice, were added onto the noises of the rushing fountains.

All of the noises were symphonious with each other, to the point where they all merged into one. Soon you were entirely engulfed in your current task and the little noises that filled the air.

And perhaps too engrossed, because you were unable to sense the presence of Neuvillette, who had shifted slightly in his sleep only to notice you had disappeared. He wouldn't be able to, or want to admit it, but the bed you shared turned out to be a little colder in your absence.

"So, here you were," he questioned as he entered, holding a candle in his hand. His voice was a huskier than normal, most likely because he had just woken up from his slumber. You have come to believe over time that the sound of Neuvillette's voice, especially when it was thick with sleep, was the most soothing and melodious sound you would ever have the pleasure of hearing.

Even now, you had to bite back a grin, for the sound of his somewhat deeper voice, and the nature of his statement, caused a giddy feeling to erupt in your stomach. The sensation crawled from your gut and spread across your body like an electric current, and generated a bashful warmth in your face.

"Here, I am," your cheeky reply flowed smoothly from your lips, briefly looking back at him for a moment before grabbing the cocoa powder. "And here I thought I had been as quiet as a church mouse when getting out of bed. Seems I was unfortunately mistaken." The faintest gasp arose from your throat when you suddenly felt your fiancé's body behind you, gently pressing against your back in an effort to embrace you once more.

The Chief Justice knew how to explain and rationalize a lot of things on a many broad subjects, in and outside of the Opera Epiclese of the Fontaine court. But he was at a loss when it came to humans━ specifically and especially when it came to you.

Articulating his feelings for you, trying to fully understand why you felt this way about him in return, and just why he always felt more content when you were this close to him were some things he admittedly struggled to find logical solutions to.

Neuvillette's lips were a hair's breadth away from the upper part of your ear so when he hummed, goosebumps almost immediately erected on the surface of your deep, chestnut skin. His voice, now even lower than before, and the large palm he placed on your torso, startled you to a degree where you nearly spilt all the powder on the counter.

"You should recall how light a sleeper I am. Alas, your attempt to be inconspicuous was all for naught. I'm afraid that nearly anyone would have awoken from all the rustling that resulted from your movements."

You couldn't stop the soft laugh that tumbled past your lips at his subtle jab at your inability to be sneaky. Hearing him say anything resembling a joke at another's expense was certainly rare. "I suppose you're right. It seems my eagerness for tea dulled my usually agile movements."

This time Neuvillette chuckled and shook his head a bit, and his small smile stretched into a wider one when he heard you laugh along with him. The heart that resided in his chest pumped faster and with much more force whenever he heard the sound. He could listen to it all day.

"I'm sorry I woke you up though. I've disturbed you from getting the proper rest you need." You felt the need to apologize, even though it was unlikely your white haired fiancé would ever be upset with your for something like that. "Even more so because I am fully aware of the long day you have ahead of you tomorrow."

Without warning, Neuvillette proceeded to wrap both of his arms around your abdomen and pulled you even closer to his chest. You could feel the ridges and dips of his rather defined and etched stature through the thin satin of your night gown. With little force and much care, he turned you around to that you were now facing him, leaving you no choice but to pause in the stirring of your tea. His hands rested lovingly on your hips and your backside was pressed firmly against the counter.

The space between the two of you remained nonexistent.

"I, too, am aware of the day that awaits me in several hours. But please, do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

You were about to reply but Neuvillette silenced whatever it was your were going to say next when he leaned down slightly, and captured your lips in a delicate but amorous kiss. In reality it didn't last for more than three seconds, but to you, in your own little world with this man you got to claim as yours, it felt like it lasted much, much longer.

The effect of time seeming like it slowed down felt even more real when the two of you broke away from each other, and his silvery lavender eyes peered into yours. "Truthfully, I don't mind losing a bit of sleep....if it means that I don't have to wait until the morning to have you look at me like this, and hear your voice again."

Your eyes widened a fraction, not expecting him to say something so affectionate or romantic unprovoked. A fond smile tugged on the corners of your lips, already knowing your mind would be replaying his words for weeks to come over and over again, like a malfunctioning record player.

"Oh, mon amour...." was all you were able to say at the moment, your tone soft and breathy, slightly above a whisper. For as long as you have been with your white haired fiancé, he was still effortlessly capable of causing the butterflies in your stomach to hatch from their cocoons, and fly around in a frenzy.

Neuvillette lifted one hand to palm your cheek, and stroke it slowly with the pad of his thumb. His hand, his body, the look in his eyes were filled with warmth, and you wanted to cherish it for as long as possible. Your hands rested on his chest, and you leaned into his touch as he pecked your lips once and then twice more, for good measure and solely because he desired to feel you against him one more time.

The Chief Justice decided he liked this expression on your face. It suited you quite well, he thought. Right now you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on in his long-standing life.

After a moment, a low chuckle rumbled in the man's chest before leaning forward to peck your temple. "I think I'm craving a bit of tea as well. I'm sure it will quell this newfound thirst that arbitrarily appeared."

Smiling again, you separated from your lover so you can finish on your cup, and so he could get started on his. As you stood side by side, and even as you both finished and made your way back to the master bedroom, you continued to talk to each other about whatever topic lingered in the atmosphere. Anything from the upcoming trial and cases he was overseeing tomorrow, mundane things that you saw on the streets of Fontaine that day, what you had for lunch, and everything else in between was discussed between the two of you.

Before either of you even realized it, the hue of the room turned from colorless dark to a deep cerulean blue, and the songs of the birds reverberated throughout the walls of your bedroom.

It was morning.

"Oh my! Has dawn truly come? And so soon at that...I didn't mean to keep you━"

The words of exclamation were lodged in your throat once more, as you watched him take your hand in his, and placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles and fingers.

"Do not trouble yourself over matters that are not your doing. You need not worry about me, ma douce."

Like a puddle of water that has been sitting in the sun all day, you're felt like you could evaporate just from the intensity of your fiancé's lidded gaze. Sometimes you wondered if he was even aware of his influence on every part of your body.

"Besides, I don't recall ever saying that I intended to leave at this very moment. We still have plenty of time together; the morning has only just begun."

Completely intertwining your hand with his, Neuvillette seamlessly maneuvered you both back onto the soft, inviting sheets, with you conveniently laying on top of him.

His long, snowy hair sprawled from his scalp in all directions making him look majestic with no effort at all. At times, you even found yourself jealous of his beauty. But you wouldn't dare utter such words to him; you'd rather simply admire and even found yourself a little prideful that such a dauntingly beautiful man would be yours forever.

If only you knew that to Neuvillette, you resembled an angel from the Celestial heavens. The sun hasn't risen over the mountains just yet, but your being blinded him, and he found himself never wanting to see another thing again.

Overcome with ardor for you, his hand found its way to the back of your neck to pull your face downward and closer to his, because he was craving another taste of you.

You melted in his touch, and savored the taste of vanilla and crème on his tongue and his hands on your body. The only thing wrong with this moment, was the dawn came too soon.

( # ) ━ since i never wrote for genshin before, i don't have a tag list for it lolz ! but i might as well make one soooo if you wanna join let me know <3 here's the link to my taglist form for my other works <3 @osamwah @smiley-babe y'all would prob like this fdkjdkd

[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 3

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pairing: anakin skywalker x f! reader

series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and adopted cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni! ageless blogs dni! none this chapter (although it gets just a little steamy) but the series will have eventual smut, canon-level violence and just general warnings.

a/n: if anyone’s curious i based the combat style on judo! i’m no expert in judo i’ve just literally been watching “best judo fight” compilation videos so if anyone has any recommendations or corrections let me knoww okay thanks bye! 

You can’t sleep. 

It’s been hours since you came out of the bathroom, the makeup scrubbed off of your face, skin raw from the heat of the shower. Anakin hadn’t even looked at you, and had only offered a grunt of acknowledgement when you had murmured a timid goodnight. 

You think you’re gonna lose your mind. You sit up in frustration with the aim of going down to the kitchens to get a glass of water, rubbing your eyes as you mourn your lack of sleep. Anakin shoots up from his makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, hand already on his lightsaber as he prepares to respond to whatever threat may be there. When he sees none, he relaxes, but his eyes stray to your form and the outline of your body under the silk nightgown. 

“Can’t sleep either?” You ask dryly, making your way off of the bed. You muss up your hair just in case you run into someone on your midnight journey, just so that they’ll think you and Anakin have been up to something other than arguing. 

“No, milady,” Anakin responds quietly. A heartbeat passes before he speaks again, breaking the tranquility of the night. “I apologize for how I spoke to you. I took my frustrations out on you and disrespected you. Your demand is not a foolish one, it’s important and I know that.” 

“I appreciate that,” you respond. “And… about what you said earlier, I do want to learn how to keep myself safe. Of course I do. You won’t always be there, I know that, but how am I supposed to learn? Who would have taught me? My parents died when I was young. I was left in the care of Padme and her family, but that meant that I was part of politics. Running things in the background to support the people I love.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Anakin offers, and you sit with silence for another moment. You take the chance to look at Anakin, the dark circles under his eyes, the shadows on his face, the scar on his eyelid. You have the strangest urge to run your fingers over his cheekbones, over his scars, to know every part of him. You don’t know why, but in the moonlight, everything is so much softer. But you keep it to yourself, sighing and settling on the edge of the bed. You draw your knees to your chest, eyelids fluttering shut to give your eyes some rest. 

“I’ll teach you,” Anakin offers suddenly. 

“What?” You ask. 

“I’ll teach you to protect yourself. You’re right, I won’t always be there, but you should never be defenseless. You’re far too important for that.” Anakin offers a smile to you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile, so subtle that you might have missed it had you not been staring so intently at him. 

“Thank you, General Skywalker.” 

“Anakin.” 

“Anakin.” You smile back at him, a tentative truce drawn between the both of you. You have no doubt that you’ll clash with him soon enough, a matter of personality differences, but for now, it’s nice to have him on your side. “You know, I wouldn’t be offended if you came and slept on the bed with me. I’m sure you’ve slept on the ground plenty of times as a Jedi Knight, but I can’t sleep here three feet away from you knowing my guard is sleeping on the ground.” 

“I suppose there only is one bed, isn’t there?” He grumbles, drawing up the pile of sheets that he’s slept in and tossing it at the foot of the bed. Despite the distance between you, you can feel the warmth radiating from him as he slides into the bed. “We’ll start training tomorrow, milady.”

“Goodnight, Anakin,” you smile, facing the wall. 

“Goodnight, milady.” 

~~~

“Wake up, milady.” It’s still dark when you hear him call your name, jostling your shoulder when you don’t wake up immediately. 

“Anakin?” You ask, rubbing your eyes. It must be right before dawn, for everything is so dark that you can’t make out the details of his face. “Is something the matter?”

“You asked me to train you,” he says. You hold back a groan, wanting nothing more than to bury yourself in your blankets and sleep for much longer. 

“Anakin, that’s sweet, but when you said tomorrow I didn’t think you meant before my brain even turns on,” you whine, but he’s persistent. He slides an arm under your torso, quickly pulling you upright as you protest at the sudden loss of warmth. You shiver from the cold, instinctively huddling in closer to Anakin before you realize and pull yourself away. He looks at you with an odd expression on his face, but doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to slide out of the bed and pull the sheets away with him. He folds his hands behind his back, waiting patiently for you to get out of bed. 

“Milady, I must advise that we train now. We should do it in secret, so that your handmaids won’t notice— after all, they are part of the reason that you wish to learn to protect yourself,” Anakin responds. You groan but get up, throwing your hands in frustration. You’re partly convinced that he’s just doing this to be a little prick— there’s not a chance in hell that this was the only time that you could get alone time with him. You’re newlyweds, it’s almost expected that you’d be sneaking off to spend as much time as possible between meetings. But no, he had to wake you before anyone else would reasonably be awake. But it’s not worth the fight. 

“Alright, then,” you sigh. But instead of moving away from the bed, Anakin moves to stand on top of it, looking at you expectantly. 

“We’re going to start with several throws. Now, I’m not absolutely certain about this, but I think you wouldn’t enjoy being thrown down onto granite,” he says impatiently. You get on the bed, mourning the lack of sleep as Anakin eyes you up and down. “In that?” He asks, referring to your silk nightgown. 

“Oh, good grief,” you complain, throwing your hands up. “At this rate there won’t be a point of waking me up before dawn because everyone else in the palace will be awake already when we do start! Can we just do it?” Anakin shrugs, reaching out to position you the way he wants. Anakin positions you standing shoulder width apart, one hand placed on the back of your neck and the other on your arm. The warmth of his palms on your bare skin sends electricity through your nerves, and you blink at him wide-eyed at the contact. With quick footwork he sweeps you on to your back, knocking the wind out of you with the added weight of his body on yours before he swings himself to your side, effectively pinning you down to the ground. 

“Try to move,” he instructs you, but as you wiggle around on the bed, you realize that he’s able to still pin down your shoulders. “See? Doing this gives you leverage. First thing to know,” he says, getting up and leaving you sprawled on the bed. 

“I see.. Was it necessary to do it without any explanation, or was that for your amusement?” You grunt, hoisting yourself up as Anakin watches you struggle rather unsympathetically. 

“For fun. Now,” He breezes past the admission, grinning when you gape at him, “What you’re gonna do is put your hand on the back of my neck and my arm, like I did.” He nods when you’re in the correct placement, turning his focus to your technique. “Now, turn your body so the hand that’s holding my neck is the closest side. Step sideways once, cross the other foot and step towards me, and then use the first foot to sweep the knee on the side that you’re not touching.” 

You step as per his instructions, sweeping him down but when you land, body pressed firmly against his, the door swings open to reveal Reyna. She sputters when she sees the position you and Anakin are in—  Anakin half naked, his thigh slotted between your legs, his hands gripping your hips,  your tits hanging above his face with only the thin silk material to cover you. The immodesty of it all makes you blush, too. Anakin, however, used his quick thinking and craned his neck up to kiss the exposed skin right above your breasts. You know it’s only so that she doesn’t get suspicious but it feels good, dammit, and you can’t hold back the whimper that threatens to escape you when his teeth nip softly at your skin. 

“I’ll come back later,” Reyna squeaks, clearly mortified. 

“That would be best,” Anakin responds, looking at her with half-lidded eyes and a smirk that makes heat run up your spine. 

When the door shuts, he throws you rather unceremoniously off of him, blushing a bright pink. 

“Sorry,” Anakin apologizes. The both of you lay on your backs, furiously avoiding eye contact as the situation’s awkwardness makes you wince. 

“It’s alright,” you say, pushing yourself off of the bed. “So, I’ll, um, see you later today?” 

“Yes, milady,” he answers, sounding distant. “Later today.”

[hanniology]

no one gets away with it | csc

synopsis: just seungcheol being sulk. genre: FLUFF, crack. warning: SULKY CHEOL, mention of alcohol, mention of poop. word count: 847. pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader. note: also I used mx which is a gender neutral term for miss/mr to keep this all gender neutral. Also this is a repost from that i deleted from my other blog

Stepping into the boys dorms, closing the door behind you. You just came back from grocery shopping with your wonderful boyfriend Seungcheol. That said boyfriend is now currently sulking on the couch on something that had happened early today at the store.

The two of you went out shopping for food because Minghao and Jun were coming back from their trip to China. So obviously because of that they were going to want to host some really big welcome back party, which meant a lot of food. And the thirteen boys weren’t going to survive with the amount of food they had in their fridge. 

You decided to come along and help after hearing Seungcheol go on a rant about how he (unfairly) lost in a game of rock paper scissors, which was deciding who’s going to go out and buy all the food and ingredients. Apparently just in the first round he was the only one to be holding a pair of scissors and everybody was holding rock. Feeling bad you decided to join him on the trip to the grocery store.

Everything was completely normal, just like your typical trips to the store. Cheol pushing the cart, you trying to put in a bunch of unnecessary things, trying your best to convince him that you guys would need it, and a bunch of questionable stares from customers due to the large amount of soju in your cart. 

So what exactly happens to have your boyfriend currently sitting on the living room couch all sulky.

Well, when the two of you finally agreed you have enough food, you head over to the cashier. Cheol was placing all the already scanned items into the cart again from the conveyor, while you had over Mingyu’s card (which Cheol totally didn’t steal when he wasn’t looking out of revenge from them cheating in the game).

The cashier man seemed nice and probably didn’t mean any harm when he told you, “You look good today, mx.”

Poor guy didn’t see the look on Seungcheol’s face when he said that, he was too busy printing out the receipt. About to give that said receipt to you, but instead got it grabbed from his hand by Seungcheol.

On the way back to the dorms he didn’t say anything, just grumply and sulkily walked next to you on the way there. You kept trying to tell him it wasn't that much of a big deal, but he didn’t listen.

So that should be enough explaining why your boyfriend is sitting on the couch with both elbows on his legs, with arched eyebrows, pouty lips and clicking a pen, right?

Chuckling softly at the scene, “Cheol,” picking up one of the bags on the floor and bringing them to the kitchen, “you look like you're trying very hard to push out a poop.”

He rolls his eyes at your comment and continues to click the pen in his hand.

Coming back from the kitchen to grab another bag, “You know if you are really having a hard time pushing it out, an easier way is to lift your legs.”

“Yn this is a serious matter- wait really?- that’s besides the point,” 

You go through a giggling fit, almost dropping the bag when he changed the subject for a little, “Yes, it really does work.”

“Urg, why won’t you take this seriously?” He goes to write something on the paper on the coffee table.

When you finished putting all the stuff away, the front door unlocks, entering Mingyu, who’s here to cook the food for the welcome back party (or some excuse to get drunk idk).

“What’s up with coups?” He asks as he watches the older boy continue to write on the paper.

“Oh, someone told me I looked good whilst we were at the store and now he’s plotting their death.” 

A confused look grows on Mingyu’s face. “Isn’t that a complement?”

“All they said was good,” Cheol says, “They forgot all the other words that perfectly describe them. Perfect… Gorgeous… and any other positive word in the dictionary.” He grabs the paper filled with more compliments and starts waving it in the air.

“No one gets away with that. No one.”

[ bonus]

A week later.

You were in the boys dorms once again, reading a book on the same couch, Cheol wrote that list of nice things to you.

“Does anyone know where my card is?” Mingyu walks in the living room asking you and the other members that are in as well. 

Sinking deeper into the couch, lifting the book higher so it can hide the smug smile on your face. You almost exposed yourself with the giggles about to come out of your mouth.

But luckily saved by a Cheol running to you from the bathroom, “Yn, you were right, if you lift your legs while sitting on the toilet, it’s much easier to get it out.” 

“I���m sorry-WHAT?!” Mingyu exclaims.

Which was a good thing so now you don’t have to hide your laughter that escaped your mouth.