#so i must let he treat himself with ice cream | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

legendary-pink-dot · 5 months ago

Text

Please, Mr Postman

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected PiV sex, butt play, creampie, oral (f receiving), and lots of sex toys. No ages mentioned or alluded to. Reader is married. There are themes of infidelity, blackmail and stalking, but Reader is fully consenting and willing. Mailman Joel is a sleaze, consider youself duly warned.

Word Count: 4.3K (by far the longest thing I've ever written, whew)

Summary: Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck.

Notes: Poking my nose out of my hiatus hidey-hole to write this as a gift for my very very dear friend @magpiepills for the prompt "Stole your mail and uses it to sexually blackmail you mailman Joel". I love you, my sweet Bat. 💜 Giant thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for the last-minute rapid beta read. Much love to my sluts for cheerleading: @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen I have never written Joel before, so please be kind. Thank you and enjoy.

Please, Mr Postman - Joel Miller x f!reader

Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck. The squeak of the rusted brake pads as he parks at the end of the block is a melody, as distinctive to you now as the chimes of the classic ice cream trucks from your childhood, eliciting a Pavlovian response of salivating over the treats it held within.

Life was easy and carefree at that age. You didn't have responsibilities, grown-up worries, or this present burden of being a Stepford wife to a rich man who occasionally did some illegal activities. He was kind to you and you loved him, desired him even, but despite being a criminal he was boring. He was not the adventurous, filthy man in bed you secretly hoped for. But you knew things about his work that made it dangerous to leave, and financially he made sure you were kept comfortable enough to not want to tell. So you stayed. And here you were, marooned in a leafy suburb, stuck at home all day and fantasizing about the hot new mailman. What a cliche you've become.

The mailman's name was Joel. And he really did command attention.

Salt and pepper hair that curled around the edge of his blue cap. Dark brown eyes that showed a few flecks of amber the rare times you've seen them up close. A strong nose with a neatly trimmed mustache and gorgeous facial scruff. Large hands that could football-hold an entire package in each.

And speaking of packages: his looked prodigious. It looked obscene what he was carrying around in those standard issue United States Postal Service shorts. You dreamed about it at night -- how thick his cock must be and how you'd lick it like those sweet summer popsicle treats -- as your husband snored beside you after giving you one pitiful orgasm and then immediately coming himself and falling asleep.

You never thought anyone could be attractive in such a dumpy grey uniform, but somehow Joel found a way.

In the summer heat he always rolled up the edges of his pleated shorts, a thick pocket chain clacking along his meaty thigh. Light hair dusted his tanned legs. His black leather belt was cinched tight, further emphasizing his delicious bulge. The sleeves of his polo shirt were similarly rolled and showed off well-toned forearms from all the lifting and carrying. In short: he was a dream.

But you'd never go further than look. You loved your husband, for all his faults. You'd even placed a big order of sex toys last week in the hopes he'd be willing to spice things up in the bedroom. The tracking app says it's out for delivery, and right on cue, Joel comes walking up your driveway cradling a large cardboard box in his hands. Damn, he looks good today.

"Mornin', ma'am," he drawls politely. You think he winks at you, or maybe it's just the sun hitting his eyes. "Got a big one for you today."

You move to take it, but he shakes his head. "It's heavy. Let me put it inside for ya."

The thought of him being inside your home makes you tingle. You don't even think to consider that postal workers aren't supposed to go past a customer's front step.

You hold the door open and Joel stomps through, leaving bootprints of dirt on your "Home Sweet Home" welcome mat.

"Ma'am? Where d'ya want it?" He sounds amused, and you realize with a start that he's been standing in your entranceway for an awkward length of time. You'd been too busy ogling his legs, and more, in those rolled-up shorts. Was it your imagination, or was he not wearing underwear?

"On the coffee table, please." You lead him to the sitting room beside the entranceway. It's your happy place, your sanctuary, the spot you have your morning coffee in as you listen for the siren song of his mail truck.

Joel gently places the box on the coffee table and turns to you.

"I'll just wait here while you check that everythin's in order."

"What… what do you mean?" You feel your cheeks heat. Fortunately the box was nondescript, but it did give off a brown paper wrapping porn vibe.

"It's insured for $700. Must be some expensive stuff. 'S my job to write a report if anything's broken."

Nervous sweat starts beading down your back. "It… it's okay… I can report online if there's a problem…"

"'S no trouble. Let's just take a quick peek." Joel's already pulled his keychain ceramic boxknife out of his shorts, slitting the box open before you can say a word.

You stand there mortified and unable to speak as Joel opens the flaps, pushes aside the cushioning packets, and stares at the huge assortment of boxed sex toys.

"Well, well, darlin'. What do we have here?" His voice is a mixture of amusement and something deep and growling. Predatory.

Your face burns in embarrassment. "You… you can go now," you manage to squeak. "Please."

"Don't think so, sweetheart. Gotta check that everythin's in good working order." His boxknife shicks open the first product, a G-spot vibe from the looks of the box. Just before he can unwrap it, you find your voice. You hope you sound self-assured and assertive.

"That's enough. Please leave. My husband will be home any minute."

Joel smirks as he continues to rifle through the box. "Naw. He won't. Just did my route on Pine Street and saw him gettin' busy with that blonde divorcee in the cul-de-sac. Miz Perkins, wasn't it? Big tits."

It's a gut punch, and it makes you forget that this suddenly skeezy mailman is in your home and looking at your new collection of sex toys. An affair? He wouldn't. Not YOUR husband. Not your husband who rarely wants to do anything interesting in bed…

"Sorry, darlin." Joel pulls you out of your thoughts. "Fuck that guy. Wanna have some fun?" He pulls the vibe out of the box and waves it in front of you with a lopsided smirk.

This is too much to deal with. Your head is spinning, a mixture of emotions running through you. Including lust, incredibly enough. This mailman appears to be the take-charge dominant you wish your husband was.

"No. Like I said, you can leave now." You manage to say it firmer this time despite the gushing between your thighs. "Just go."

"Think I'll stay," he says, crossing the space between you in one step and pushing you backwards onto the sofa. "Don't want me reporting your ol' man to the authorities, now do ya?"

"Wha… what?"

He chuckles at your comically large-eyed look of shock. "Yeah, know all about it. Been readin' yer mail," he says matter-of-factly. "He's shit at covering his tracks. Who sends fake invoices through the mail? With his real address too. Amazin' he hasn't been caught yet."

"You've been reading our mail?! I should report you!" Who is this guy?

Joel looms menacingly over your prone figure. You didn't dare move. "Sure, darlin. Postal employees got a responsibility to report crime. I'll be fine," he smiles, leaning back a little, but not enough for you to escape. "But the Postmaster General don't take too kindly to mail fraud, or those aidin' and abettin'. That's a felony."

"But it's not a felony for a mailman to read people's mail?"

"Tell you what," he drawls, still in that matter-of-fact tone that should be so very wrong in this situation. He rifles through the box and pulls out a hot pink butt plug, wiggling it at you. "You're gonna let me try out some of these toys on ya, and I won't report him."

Blackmail shouldn't turn you on, shouldn't turn anyone on, but it does. You're only human, and besides, you definitely don't want to go to prison. You can't control your reaction as your upper half shrinks back into the sofa while your lower half stretches out towards Joel, the hem of your sundress hiking up like it has a mind of its own. He gives you a wolfish grin and rests a broad, heavy hand on your knee.

"Jus' what I thought, sweetheart. Seen you watchin' me out the window every mornin'. You been wantin' me to stuff your pretty little mailslot, haven't ya?"

A whimper escapes your throat. "Yes. Please," you whisper, thighs sticky between your panties and suddenly aching.

"Okay, honey. Gonna start easy with this lil' thing." He holds up a clit sucker, shaped like a penguin with a little pink bow around its neck, and switches it on to test it. It springs into life immediately. "Ah, great. Love how companies pre-charge things now-a-days."

How can he be so conversational about this? Does he blackmail all the married women in the neighbourhood? Well, maybe just the ones who have something to hide. Like you. You silently thank the heavens for sending you an attractive skeeze, at least. And Joel is so very, very attractive.

You spread your legs for him.

He ruches your sundress up your thighs and whistles appreciatively, the sound going straight to your core. "No panties? And gushin' out of that tight little snatch already? Didn't take ya for such a filthy girl."

"It's… it's hot out," you stammer, unable to think straight.

"About to get hotter," he smirks again, and damn that attitude is doing things for you. "You ready, sweetheart?"

You nod, and he keeps eye contact as he nestles your clit into the little penguin's mouth and switches it on.

Your back arches and you nearly scream out loud.

The sensation is warm, and there's no direct contact but it's like your clit is being gently suckled. You've never felt anything like it. It's only been three seconds and your hips are already squirming to chase more.

His hand presses lightly on your hip to give you something to brace against as he clicks the intensity button up a couple notches, and it's like waves upon waves of the absolute perfect pressure on your clit. The buildup in your core is so fast that you don't even realize you're coming until it's almost over. You also hadn't noticed that you'd grabbed his muscled forearm and sunk your nails into it, leaving little half-moon indentations in his tanned skin.

"That was… wow." Your gasps echo around the quiet sitting room. Joel doesn't say a word, just reverently watches your pussy pulse and gush out a few drops of slick. "Thanks." You wish it had lasted longer and were sad it was over. Oh well, a nice memory for the next time you think about Joel, or try out some of these toys with your husband.

You start to push your sundress down, assuming he'll leave now and half-grateful for it, but he grabs your shoulder and forces you back down into the pillows.

"Where you off to? I'm just gettin' started with you, darlin'."

"But…."

"But nothin'. Ain't done till I say so."

All you can do is stare at him, unsure if you should be angry, turned on, or plotting an escape.

He undoes his leather belt and slowly, threateningly, slides it out through the loops on his uniform shorts. "Don't make me use this, sweetheart. Gonna be a good girl for me now, ain't ya?" The depth and tone of his voice say he isn't joking.

You gulp, still tingly from your rapid orgasm. And ready for another one, you think as you make eye contact with Joel, feeling a bit bolder now. We're here, I let him do that much already, might as well go for it.…

The penguin gets discarded as Joel carelessly tosses it to the carpet and takes the hot pink butt plug out of the box again, running a finger along the curve of its long but slim length. "Hmmm. Pretty. This for you, or your husband?"

"Uh… me…"

"Ah, ah" he tuts. "You really are a nasty girl. You take one of these before?"

You shake your head, suddenly shy. You hadn't even wanted your husband to know about the butt plug, thinking he was so sexless that he'd be disgusted. Apparently not, if he's railing Ms Perkins with the big tits over on Pine Street.

"S'okay. Gonna slide it in real good for ya." While you shove a little sofa pillow under your hips, Joel combs through the box on the coffee table and pulls out a bottle of lube. He pops the cap and drizzles some over the plug, and you gulp again imagining it inside your ass. A faint scent of synthetic vanilla fills the air and for some reason it calms you, allowing you to relax your muscles as Joel slides the plug along your crack, rubbing and smearing the lube around your asshole.

"You like that?"

You do. You really do.

Your little moan spurs him on and he gently presses the generously lubed tip of the plug against your hole, just the teensiest bit. You look up at his face, that stupidly attractive face of a skeezy mailman who is sexually blackmailing you, and find yourself desperately wanting to feel his scruff on your inner thighs.

Apparently he's a mind reader, too. He smiles and lowers his head to your crotch, and licks your clit with his wide tongue at the same moment he presses a bit more of the plug into your ass. You nearly scream for the second time in minutes.

"That's it, honey," he breathes against your core, wiggling the tip of the plug in and out and hitting nerves you didn't even know existed back there, making your hips jump involuntarily. "Openin' up so nice for me."

A few more mind-numbing, distracting licks of your clit and the plug slides all the way in with a little pop. You're equal parts turned on and proud.

"Well, ain't that a pretty sight," Joel whistles appreciatively. He pulls up to sit back and just stares at you all spread out on the sofa with one leg hiked over the back, your sundress balled up over your stomach. He taps the pink flared base of the plug a few times like he's idly flicking away a cigarette. It wiggles inside you and you squirm and squeal. Actually squeal. You're still mad and weirded out and other things, but you're feeling too good to give up now and you're starting to not care how easily you're caving to this man.

"Lessee what other treats we got in here." He rifles through the box again. His face falls into a comical droop of sadness and he sighs loudly, holding up a little box marked 'Girth Extender Sleeve'.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." The condescension in his voice shouldn't turn you on this much. "Yer old man got a tiny dick? Not fuckin' you proper? No wonder you been starin' at me every day, desperate for a real man."

Before you can protest -- he's not tiny, I just wanted to spice things up, well okay maybe he could use a bit of help -- he unzips his uniform shorts and pulls out his hard cock, holding it at the base so you can take a good look. "Got a special delivery for ya, baby."

Yeah, Joel definitely doesn't need any artificial enhancement.

His cock is thick. Not super long, but probably one of the thickest you've seen, outside the few porn films you watched when you were younger and more uninhibited. There's foreskin covering what looks like a large mushroom head, and a prominent pulsing vein running up one side. It all looks delicious, and you unconsciously lick your lips as he smirks at how you take it all in.

"You want it real bad, dontcha?" He fists himself a few times, his foreskin sliding on the downstroke to give you a peek at the thick head. "Yeah, you sure do. Never knew I had such a little slut livin' on my route."

Shuffling forward, he grabs your thighs and spreads them wider. The head of his cock feels impossibly heavy as he slaps it on your clit, making you gush a little with every hit.

"Joel, will you… can you lick me again for a bit?" Your squeaky voice is impossibly needy and pathetic.

"Naw," he says, flicking the base of the butt plug again and making your hips jump. The plug was so comfortable that you'd already forgotten it was in there. "Gotta finish my route. Can't talk to customers with my face smellin' of pussy, ya know. I'm representin' the United States Postal Service out there."

"Oh, does the USPS regularly fuck its customers too?"

"Sure does, darlin'. Bends 'em over and gives it to 'em hard with the price hikes every year."

He roughly pulls you up and bends you over the sofa arm, positioning you like the personal little fuckdoll you are for him.

"Got the next best thing though." He slips on a tiny purple fingertip vibe, your free gift from the toy company for such a large order. With such thick fingers, it looks like he's wearing an upside-down Ring Pop. It gives a loud rumble when he switches it on, and he laughs as he tugs his shorts down over his thighs. "Cheap ass shit. Hope the battery lasts. But it don't take you long anyway, right sweetheart?" He reaches around your hips, lifts your sundress and presses the vibe straight on your bare clit without any preamble, and your hips slam backwards into his crotch as you scream again, his cock jostling the base of the butt plug and sending shockwaves both up and down your core at the same time.

"Yeah. Thought so."

Amid the mixed sensations suddenly comes a new one: the thick head of his cock slipping into your cunt as he swirls the vibe around your clit, not letting it rest in any one spot long enough for your liking.

"… Wait! No condom?"

"Naw. You're on the pill, right?" He doesn't wait for your answer, as if he already knows.

Normally you don't enjoy this position but you're too far gone now, pushing your hips back and encouraging him deeper in, more than wet enough from all the playing to take him in.

"Greedy little slut, ain't ya?" He feeds you another inch, pauses, then another, torturously slow as you stretch around his thickness. "Tight little snatch feels so good. Miz Perkins with the big tits probably don't feel this sweet." Joel demeaning your husband like this and throwing the adultery in your face should make you mad -- at both of them -- but it only turns you on more, beads of sweat dripping down your spine as he slides all the way in to the hilt, giving you a few moments of grace to adjust to the size of him.

One strap falls down your shoulder, letting your tit pop out of your sundress and he palms it roughly, giving it an exploratory squeeze. The finger vibe is still buzzing and he swipes it across your nipple, the nubby texture chafing just before the point of pain. "Nice. You like that? Let's add somethin'."

Mentholated 'arousal balm' was another of your free gifts, and not something you'd ever thought to try. Joel twists open the little tin and dips the finger vibe in it.

"That smells strong, do we have to?" Wooziness hits you as the peppermint smell goes straight up your nostrils.

"Like I said, baby, gotta make sure everythin' works. Else I gotta do a return," chides Joel, tossing the tiny tin on the floor. You watch it roll under the baseboard heater as he grabs your hips roughly and repositions you. "Real fucking pain, returns. Lotsa paperwork."

He brings the now-mentholated finger vibe back to your clit, and two seconds later it feels like your entire pussy is on fire.

Thank goodness he didn't put any on my a--

Joel moves the base of the butt plug aside and presses the finger vibe against your asshole.

The menthol soaks into your tender membranes and it's so, so cold and hot at the same time. Your brain melts along with it.

Everything is lit up now and you squirm as he slides his hardness back into your pussy and gives a few experimental thrusts. "Tight fuckin' snatch," he mutters, your walls clenching around him in time with his finger flicking at the plug, your entire lower half burning but not in a terrible way. "But could be tighter." He suddenly pulls his cock out and you whine, loudly and needily.

"Please, Joel."

"Please what, darlin'?"

"Put… put it back in? Please."

"All in good time. Gotta give those walls an extra little stamp."

You look over your shoulder to see him drizzling lube into the girth sleeve and slipping it onto his cock. He's already so thick that it's a tight fit, the soft tube slipping off a couple times before he finally stretches it enough so it can slide all the way on, pulling it down so his large head pokes out of the top. You clench involuntarily.

"Umm. That's not gonna fit."

"Sure it will, honey," he drawls. "Didn't think you could take that pretty little pink plug, right? And look at ya now."

He's got a point.

"Gonna stuff that little slot full to the brim and turn ya into a size queen. Open wide, baby."

He's merciless as he slides back inside, at a curved angle since you're turned slightly to brace both your hands against the back of the sofa. The extender is smooth and feels just like his skin, and you're powerless to resist the incredible feeling of the extra width. He was exactly right: you felt full. With the thick pressure in your cunt pushing against the plug in your ass, you felt more stuffed than you ever had in your life, and what's more your pussy is still burning from the menthol balm. It was overwhelming but also glorious. In that second you knew it would be impossible not to think of Joel next time your husband fucked you, even if he wore this toy. Stupid sexy blackmailing mailman.

Baby animals had more stability in their legs than you do right now, your thighs spasming uncontrollably as Joel palms the vibe around your clit while holding almost half your waist in the span of his other large paw. He fucks into you hard from behind until you're so close to coming you can taste it. With the extender, his cock is hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know you had. A heavy chain pops out of the neck of his polo shirt and hits your nape with a loud clank as he slams into you from behind, the cheap poly-rayon blend of his polo shirt chafing your shoulders in a delicious burn as his chest presses close against your back and his hips smack against your ass, jostling the butt plug with every thrust.

whirrrrrr goes the finger vibe as the tiny cheap battery dies, and he slaps your clit hard with the vibe one, two, three times and you come, yelling for the nth time since he left his bootprints on your welcome mat that morning. His grunts are loud and lewd as he fucks you through it, easing up only to make his thrusts shallower so he can reach a hand between you and gently pull out the butt plug with a little 'pop'. He tosses it and the finger vibe onto your pristine off-white carpet, not even bothering to aim for the opened box on the coffee table.

"So fuckin' tight," he wheezes hoarsely, "I gotta extra big load for ya," and he presses his hips so hard against your ass that you almost fall over the sofa arm, his voice faltering as he groans and you feel hot spurts of his come coating the inside of your pussy, as deep as he can put it.

You slump forward onto the sofa and he pulls out, both of you heaving. The fiery balm has mellowed to a gentle tingle and your core is pleasantly warm. Stretched out. Fucked out.

"Welp, gotta get back to my route." It's been only a minute and his matter-of-fact conversational tone has already returned. You peer over your shoulder and watch him pull his shorts back on, rolling up the hems and slicking his belt back into the loops, tucking his polo shirt back in with practiced efficiency.

"Will I see you again?" You hate how pathetic you sound, and you must be a real sight too, half naked with a sweaty rolled-up sundress stuck to your back, your ass still up in the air like you're waiting for him to stick it right back in and rail you again immediately.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll be seein' each other again real soon," he says smoothly.

As you stand up, knees a little weak, a drop of cum drips down your thighs. "Glad I'm on the pill," you mutter to yourself as you pat down your wrinkled sundress and pause at the mess of packaging and boxes littering your sitting room.

"About that, darlin'." Joel smiles, pausing by your front door. "Miz Perkins over on Pine Street orders sugar pills and well, you know, packages get mixed up sometimes on the route. Might wanna check you got the right pills."

Joel slams the door and the mail slot squeaks rhythmically as you stand there, horrified, listening to him whistle a jaunty tune as he walks down your driveway and back to his mail route.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #sleazy mailman Joel #pedro pascal character smut #joel miller fic

468 notes · View notes

paperweight91 · 11 months ago

Note

How about a soft (maybe horny as well) moment with Ransom? 😌

Ahhhh Soft!Ransom 😍 I think i have just the idea for you dear Siri!

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI)

It was quiet in the house when you got home from work. You were exhausted. All the deadlines seem to hit around the same time leading to little sleep and long hours. The only shining light was the coming break. Just a few more days, that’s all you had to get through before some well deserved time off.

After discarding your jacket and shoes haphazardly by the front door, you flopped yourself onto the large sectional in the living room. All you wanted was to get clean and go to bed. You heard a muffled swear and something breaking in the kitchen. Ugh, Ransom was probably trying to cook, again.

You sauntered in to see the kitchen looking like a bomb went off. If the appearance was anything to go by, it looked like he had used every single bowl, cup, spoon and even plate in the house.

“Ransom, what are you doing?” You heaved a sigh and placed your hands on your hips.

He gave you a crooked grin as he looked up from the broken glass on the floor. “I wanted to surprise you. Ah shit.”

He had cut himself on the glass, distracted by your entrance. You rushed over to look at his hand, nothing a band-aid wouldn’t cover. You turned on the faucet and let the water run, while shoving his hand underneath. “Don’t move.” You instructed.

You went into the bathroom to get the first aid kit and blew out a breath. You appreciated Ransom trying, but you could see all the clean up you were going to have to do. And then he was gonna pout about how tired you were. Just a few more days.

You brought the kit back to see Ransom drying off his hand. You placed some anti-septic cream and then band-aid on his wound. “I thought I told you not to move.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He chuckled and pulled you against his chest. “And how often do i take instructions well?” You laughed and swatted his chest. “Alright, alright, do you want to see your surprise?” He looked so eager and proud, but nervous at the same time. His energy had sparked some of yours back to life. You nodded eagerly.

He spun around and went over to the fridge. He made a big show of pulling the fruits of his labour from its depths. You quickly cleared some space on the counter, pushing some of the dirty items into the sink. Ransom placed a beautiful dessert tray on the counter. At first you frowned wanting to scold him for dirtying everything and then buying you something. But when you looked closer, you could see it. Ransom had made every single treat on this tray.

It was overflowing with brownies, and various fruits dipped in white and milk chocolate. What looked like a cream cheese dip, with mini cinnamon rolls. Chocolate chip, M&M and sugar cookies with icing. All of your favourites, lovingly made by the man in front of you.

You must have been silent for too long because Ransom started shuffling his feet. “It’s all edible, I swear.” He looked down and brought his hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

“You did all this for me Ran?” You couldn’t hide the wonder in your voice, causing Ransom’s head to immediately snap up to look at you. “This must have taken you all day.” You were smiling from ear to ear.

“You like it?” There was pink tinging his cheeks, it was rare to see him this vulnerable, but you soaked up the moment.

You walked around the island so you could come face to face with him. “Are you kidding? No one’s ever done something like this for me before. In fact, I think I know the perfect way to say thank you.”

At Ransom’s bewildered expression you dropped to your knees, innocently blinking up at him. “Will you accept my thank you?” You traced your hands up his thighs, but his hands stopped yours. He was smirking down at you and shaking his head.

“I have a much better idea, that I think will satisfy us both.” He pulled you to your feet and spun you towards the hallway. Gently nudging you from behind towards the bedroom. Your brain finally caught up to what Ransom was trying to indicate and you practically skipped into your shared bedroom and began stripping down. You turned around to see Ransom placing his hard work on the table by the closet. When you raised an eyebrow you got a mumbled, “so we can enjoy later.” In response.

After that, Ransom was on you. He swept you up in his arms and carried you to the bed. Once he had you arranged exactly how he wanted you, he stripped out of his sweater and pants, standing before you in only his boxers. You made grabby hands towards him, and he chuckled at your eagerness quickly showing his boxers down and off.

He crawled over top of you and smiled as he leaned down, “Let me take care of my girl today, tomorrow you can go back to taking care of me.” He captured your lips in a kiss that stole your breath. You giggled as he parted nodding. He trailed open mouth kisses across your jaw and down your neck stopping to nip at your collarbone. He then trailed kisses down to your breasts, burying his face in between them before licking a stripe up one, while he pinched and kneaded the other. He drew your nipple into his mouth teasing the bud with his teeth and tongue. You moaned and threw your head back at the sensation. His fingers a rough contrast to the way he lovingly treated your nipple with his mouth.

He switched to the other breast, swapping to give the first on the rough treatment of his fingers as he sucked and scraped. You could feel the wetness that had started to gather between your thighs in the kitchen flowing from you now. You thrust your hips up, trying to get some friction where you needed it the most. Ransom seeing your plight, took pity on you and kissed his way down your stomach to the apex of your thighs. He sighed in contentment before pulling your lips apart and licking a stripe from your leaking hole to your clit. You arched off the bed and your hands flew to his head, directing him to where you wanted him most. Ransom happily followed your lead, sucking your clit into his mouth while he teased your entrance with two of his fingers. You could tell you wouldn’t last long already, your grip in his hair growing tighter and tighter by the second. He slipped down to tongue at your sloppy entrance while his fingers danced along your clit.

You groaned, “Ran, I’m so close, please.” You knew he loved when you begged, since it was a rare thing for you to do. His eyes shot open, and you could feel the smirk on his face as he looked up at you. He pulled away, and began rubbing circles on your clit, “Your wish is my command Kitten.”

He dove back in with a new vigour to his movements, clear in his intentions to have you coming on his tongue and fingers. He alternated between sucks and rubbing your clit and within minutes your orgasm raced through you. You moaned his name and arched your back, waiting for the aftershocks to pass. He eased you through with his fingers and then crawled his way up your body. You cuddled him close and kissed him drowsily. “I think you take instructions perfectly.” You quipped at him.

He groaned and buried his face in your neck. “Just promise you’ll try some treats before you pass out on me?”

You laughed and wrapped yourself around him like a koala. Just a few more days and you will be able to do this all day long.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #stargazingfangirl18 #paperweight drabble game #paperweightreplies #chris evans

94 notes · View notes

cauldron-of-oddities · 4 months ago

Text

I bring fluff! Sugar and spice. I make no apology for this (hopefully not, too) cliche pile sweetness.

I'll stop now.

Have Your Cake and Eat it too

They're at a tiny hole in the wall of a pastry and ice cream shop. No bigger than a single market stall and three tables and six chairs all mismatched. A neon sign flickered nothing but the word “Sweets'' in cotton candy colours. It's in a hidden corner of the Entre Sol, and only by the grace of Jericho did Jinx hear of it after she had an impassioned lament about the lack of desserts to be found in Zaun to the cook.

Jericho had given them directions said something about taking your girl for dessert, which Jinx had completely missed, already thrilled at the prospect of a sugar rush and had Ekko saying thank you with a grin at his girl's antics.

So here they were at this tiny, softly but colourfully lit place, smelling of sugar, butter, fruit, and 6 according to Jinx heaven. As far as Ekko was concerned, it was hell. Sweet, seductive, torturous hell. Why? Because of Jinx.

She was digging into a piece of peach crumble and cardamom ice cream, humming and making a noise he could only call a moan. He swallowed thickly. He almost failed to notice the tall chirean place a slice of lime flavoured cake in front of him, with a great dollop of cream on it. It does look pretty damn good, he had to admit as he takes a forkful. And quite fancy for Zaun. He wondered briefly how their host gotten all her ingredients. Before he could ask the question, let alone take a bite, he saw Jinx zeroing in on his fork.

“Lemme taste!” It's a demand, a non-negotiable aspect of being (boy) friend of Jinx. You will share your sweets, or she may bite you instead. He found out the hard way when he'd tried to keep a bag of caramels hidden.

It's for his own safety he gave in and held it out to her. The noises of delight had previously been bad enough, but her closing in around the bite and the full “Mmmm, ooh, that's sooo good.” Has his mind short circuiting. She looks delighted at the taste and damn if he doesn't imagine going places they've only skirted before with way less clothing at the sound.

His cheeks were hot, and his pants felt tight, and then her tongue peaked out to lick the last bit off. It's hell, sweet glorious hell, and he wants to take her home and to his room and..

“Runterra to Ekko, hey, you ok?” She looks worried. “Don't like your cake?” He hadn't even tasted it yet, quickly shoving a piece in his mouth with the very fork she'd licked.

“I'm fine.” he mumbles and then “You're right it is really good.” Sitting here side by side, with admittedly a tasty dessert and her so joyous makes him want. He shook himself from his thoughts as she told him resolutely. “We are definitely getting dessert here again.”

He was in trouble.

It turns into a new thing at her insistence. After a night out on the hoverboards, a meal at Jericho, they go back to the little hole in the wall for dessert. They go twice more before he's at his wits end. The sounds she makes at first taste, the cursed sensuality with which her mouth devoured the treats, was torture.

The last time they'd picked ice cream cones, and he'd been so distracted by her humming and delicate likking, he'd failed to notice his own ice cream had melted over his hand. Great. With a huff, he'd tried to move his hand to lick it off when Jinx licked from his wrist to pinky in one smooth move. "Good choice!” She said, licking her lips. Before giggling at his expression. “Careful little man wouldn't want you dripping all over the place.”

His clean hand moved to cover his face, and he stifled a groan. She must know what she's doing, right? No, she didn't as he looked at her, having another laugh at his expense and happily occupied by her own treat again. He felt like a coil wound too tight, caught between something bright, bubbling by his heart at her joy, and something hungry and wanting below. Though all the desserts had been cold, he went home burning.

…

He spends a week practically locked in his workshop. And he really does have lots of repairs to catch up on. Jinx, though, seems to think different. “You've.” A pointed finger poking him in the chest. “Been avoiding me.” Followed by another jab for good measure. Jinx has set herself on his work table, blocking him from the disassembled hoverboard. She raises an eyebrow at him. “Do I need to kidnap you again for you to take a break?” At the mention he can still feel her hands running over his back, it still sends pleasant shivers down his spine.

Jinx crosses her arms, and her lips form a pout at his lack of reply “I thought you enjoyed our dates?” Shit, now she looks dejected.

“I do!” He scrambles out. “It's just there's so much to do, and I can't just go off hoverboarding and snacking,.."

“Yes, you can.” Her tone states it like it's the most obvious thing. He's about to protest again. “I'll go get Scar.” It's a threat, and one she means too. How those two had made peace still baffles him.

“No! no need, just let me finish this board?” He already feels wound up a few minutes to ground himself surely weren't too much to ask?

“Just. This. Board. I'll be waiting.” With that, she slaunters off, and he takes a steading breath.

One flight and two fozen dumplings later they're back at the tiny little pastry shop and no sooner than walking in, Jinx's eyes had gone wide as saucers when she'd spied a new cake, tinted pink with white frosting with swirls of bright pink through it, and copper colour sprinkles on top.

“That one!” She's practically leaning into the display case. Ekko lets out a snort at her antics and picks a little fruit tart for himself.

“Back I see.” The chirean behind the counter greets. “I was wondering where you were, wouldn't like to lose my new best customers or entertainment for that matter.”

“Lady, what's entertaining about watching people eat?” Jinx sounds a little incredulous and Ekko's hoping the shopkeeper wasn't implying she'd noticed his discomfort.

“Oh I just enjoy people indulging in my creations.” The way she says indulging has him tossing that hope right out. Grinning at Ekko, she preps their order “Do enjoy.” Embarrassment doesn't begin to cover what he's feeling right now.

Jinx, luckily, is completely preoccupied by her desert.” “It so pretty, like the clouds at sunset! She’s quiet for a moment, and thrn Ekko has never been so thankful for her whims when she blurts out her idea. “Let's go see the sunset!”

“Shall I box that, then?” Seems the shopkeeper is more aware than he is. With a sheepish shrug, he takes the offered box. Jinx quickly pulls him to open space to take off.

They find themselves on one of Zauns highest structures, perched on a ledge, looking at the sky tinged with pink and orange and the dessert box between them.

Jinx's pink eyes glitter, as picks up her cake and takes a bite. Ekko can only call the noise she makes, a moan. Low, drawn out and speaking of nothing but pleasure and then her expression, he swallows thickly at her completely blissed out look.

It's downright sinful, and he's starting to think desserts should be banned from all existence.

He's jolted from his thoughts as Jinx nuges her elbow into his side. She's holding out a finger a dollop of raspberry flavoured buttercream with cinnamon candy sugar flakes on it up to him.

“Try! Is so goooood!” She practically sings. It's too cute, the excitement bouncing off of her, it's infectious, it's the highest honour, Jinx sharing her dessert, and it's the last straw. He blinks, and caution gets flung out the window as the sweetest opportunity for vengeance presents itself.

A slow grin curls his lips as his fingers gently circle around her wrist, rubbing his thumb up and down a few times. Might as well build the tension some for all that she put him through. A breathy “Ekko?” has him looking in her eyes, with a wicked grin, his lips wrap around her finger and languidly runs his tongue over the tip, licking and sucking the icing off. She's right it is delicious, it's sugar and spice, just like her. With a soft plop, he released her finger. Her mouth is slightly open, and he can feel her pulse increasing under his fingers.

She looks like the gears have run stuck in her head. Ekko has to stifle a laugh. “Hmm, missed a bit.” He mumbles, kissing her fingers for good measure. Something like a gasped squeak escapes her, and there's red blooming on her cheeks and going down all the way down her neck and deeper. It's a treat to see.

“Your right. It's really good.” He won't admit just how affected he himself is or how he's enjoying her squirming, trying to stammer something out.

“What?... What was that for?” Jinx finally gets out.

“For sharing.” It makes him feel special. He's probably the sole person on the planet she'd share her sweets with, but he won't say that yet. Instead, he goes for a little payback “It's only fair after all the times you've made me share and watch you enjoy.”

He sees the lightbulb go on. A breathy “oh” leaves her lips, and an awkward little giggle morph into a pleased grin. “You can try some more, if you want” She looks rather hopeful saying that.

He looks at her with a raised eyebrow. Taking a dollop of icing on his finger, he daps it on her nose and kisses it off. He repeats the action, only this time holding up his finger to her lips. Jinx, never one to turn down a challenge, suckles off the icing. No wonder she'd looked so dazed when he'd done that. He feels too warm, and then he's done with all the teasing.

He moves closer to her, and when feeling the box between them, he quickly moves it. (It won't do, to break the spell by Jinx mourning ruined cake.) Hand free again he puts it on her waist pulls her towards him, the other hand goes to the back of her neck and he closes the final few inches between them.

The kiss is sweet release, soft and ardent and with raspberry, and cinnamon on her lips and tongue. His tongue chases and traces hers, all those sweets have left him with a hunger, and finally, it's being satiated. One of her hands tangles into his hair, and the other leans on his thigh. There's an anticipation to it all, and he'd pull her onto his lap if they weren't on a ledge. Eventually, they need to breathe, and it has them pulling apart.

Wide eyes look up at him, “Wanna go home and share some more cake?” She whispers at him.

Fuck, yeah, he'd love to share a whole lot more.

#timebomb #ekko x jinx #bright lights / take care of yourself verse #it is done baking #our hostess knows her way around a market for the best deals #tasty fruit need not be pretty fruit #and spice jars are small enough to go unnoticed

24 notes · View notes

long-life-to-bsd · 1 year ago

Text

It's too hot!

Pairings: kunikida, ranpo, dazai, fyodor × female reader

Warnings: nothing particular, maybe a bit suggestive

Summary: how is life with your boyfriend when it's too hot to breathe outside

I'm definitely not writing this because I'm dead for how hot it is where I live.

KUNIKIDA

I don't think he suffers that much and he if does he doesn’t complain

Will not wear something different just because outside is hot enough to boil water

Buy he's not silly and he will take care of himself and his girlfriend

He will make sure you are hydrated and that you are wearing sunscreen if you go outside

Will warn you about your outfit: black may suit you buy it's not a good idea

Talking about clothes: he thinks you look amazing in a sundress (very very obsessed with your silhouette)

Hat is mandatory if you go out

So yea, he is going to be very serious about you safety outside, very serious. He may even act like the teacher he is and scold you if do not take you health seriously.

He will put a lot of effort in convincing you to go to a park to spend there the afternoon: guess what? It's actually not that bad

Also at home he's very caring: would prepare something fresh, suggest a shower, cutting fresh fruit to eat as a snack...

RANPO

He is already super lazy so I think that summer weather kills him

Literally, would even think about letting those criminals free just for the weather

Super sleepy and sweaty (sorry)

But he will try to cook something on the street to see if those videos online are true

If you are looking for him you know he is going to be somewhere with AC

You are the one taking care of him

Ice-cream, a lot of Ice-cream.

Pretty disappointed that all his chocolate melted

Also disappointed that his favourite outfit is super unpractical

Public pools are a must. You will spend hours there: he may even consider working there (defeating criminals and seeing you in a bikini? Sounds good to him)

DAZAI

Wouldn't even noticed that the world is on fire

You can beg him to take of his coat but he will never listen to you

Obviously he doesn't care but his health so he would almost faint every time he goes out

If he sees you suffering he will suggest the only reasonable thing in this world

To take off your clothes 😏😏 and to take a cold shower together

He will literally ask you to take of your clothes multiple times a day

Big fan of summer outfits: we all know why 🙄

You both look out for each others. He doesn't care about himself at all, but he doesn't like seeing you like that.

Would take you to places with AC to spend the afternoon: the mall will become your date spot

You two would always have Ice-cream at home, but may prefer to drink something on the rocks (which is not brilliant guys)

FYODOR

If he could he would turn off the sun: not for you but for himself

This little Russian man is not used to hot weather

Very sweet: he looks like a wet rat, not scary at all. He may try to look scary and powerful buy he's out of breath (which considering how unhealthy he already is, it's not a surprise)

Lost all his intellectual abilities, 0 brain cells working: and he would hate that so much.

Will find every possible excuse for that, he may even say that his plan is acting dumb (and is also your plan to be that sweaty, Fyodor?)

That why he would go underground or contribute to the global warming putting AC everywhere he goes

And you are going with him. Not that he doesn’t like seeing you suffering, but you are not pretty all sweaty

He will decide how you dress (obv) and he's going to find out he's a big fan of hot weather

He will make sure that you always have something cold to drink though

But will not allow you to drink it to fast, it's dangerous (be careful)

Or he will make sure you have some refreshing snacks, anything you like

While he doesn’t care particularly about his health he will make sure his pet beautiful girlfriend is doing good and following the safety guidelines: be ready to be treated like a five years old

If there is no AC he will hire someone to be a living fan. May even look in the entire world just to find the right ability user.

If no one is available and he's getting all sweaty, I'm sorry, but I feel like it's your job

#bsd #bsd headcanons #kunikida #bsd kunikida #kunikida headcanons #kunikida x reader #dazai #bsd dazai #dazai headcanons #dazai × reader #ranpo #bsd ranpo #ranpo × reader #ranpo headcanons #bsd fyodor #fyodor headcanons #fyodor × reader #fyodor

186 notes · View notes

jujumin-translates · 4 months ago

Text

[18TRIP] Event Story | WE ARE M・T・T・B | TRACK. 3

Characters: 🫰 Chihiro Natsuyaki, ☁️ Ten Murakumo, 🎨 Kiroku Kinugawa, 🌕 Muneuji Kaguya, 🔮 Toi Shiramitsu

Location: HAMA House - Lesson Room

Muneuji: …I think I can move, but I don’t feel like this is just about being able to move.

Chihiro: (Munechi already said this in his own self-analysis, but he’s stiff as ever. …He’s treating it too much like a martial arts match.)

Toi: Haah, haah, haah…

Chihiro: (Toonya lacks physical strength. The more he tries to copy my dance perfectly, the more it seems like his body can’t keep up.)

Kiroku: …

Chihiro: (Kirokkuma’s got great reflexes. But his sensitive and shy personality comes out and he immediately hunches over and looks unsure of himself. I feel like he’s not making the most of his physical abilities.)

Chihiro: (Wait! I was about to make the producer face again! That’s not what they need right now!)

Ten: …

Chihiro: C’mon~, I can’t have all of you looking so gloomy! Dancing is supposed to be fun ♪ It’s totally normal not to be able to get it down right away ♪

Muneuji & Toi & Kiroku: …!

Chihiro: It’s all okay! Tenchamu and Chii are gonna teach you well, so don’t worry! So let’s have fun and get hyped~!

Ten: Ah, so I’m supposed to be a teacher too.

Toi: Chii-sama…

Kiroku: …

Muneuji: …May I ask a question? Chihiro: Hm~? What’s up?

Muneuji: As of now, our level is considerably low.

Muneuji: I know it’s not necessarily my place to say this, but I’m sure you must internally be feeling awful seeing the state we’re in now, Natsuyaki-san.

Muneuji: It is still essential that we have fun, however. So I was wondering if you could give us some clear guidance as to what parts you feel aren’t working.

Chihiro: Hm~, well… Dontcha think you’re being too hard on yourselves?

Chihiro: There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing~! You’re slowly improving, so just keep doing your best!

Muneuji & Toi & Kiroku: …

Chihiro: (...Huh. What’s with the looks of disbelief on everyone’s faces? Hm~m, I don’t want the vibes in here to get any worse, so…)

Chihiro: It’s a little early, but let’s call things here for today! Our dancing won’t get any better if we’re all too worn out!

Ten: Sure thi~ng, I agree~.

Chihiro: Ah, Chii sorta feels like having a little snack~. Can someone run to the convenience store with me~?

Muneuji: My apologies.

Kiroku: Ah, I’m… also kinda…

Toi: I-I can go another time…!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA Downtown

Ten: Mh. This new ice cream’s pretty good~. I’m buying this again next time.

Chihiro: …

Ten: You sure bought a lot of food to eat alone. What’s with that?

Chihiro: Ah, this is for everyone, but… …

Ten: Damn, why so grim-sounding?

Chihiro: I didn’t mean to sound grim, it’s just…

Parent Cat: Mrrooow.

Kitten: Nya.

Chihiro: Ah, konnichinyan.

Ten: A stray cat?

Chihiro: I’ve seen this parent-and-kid combo around here a lot lately~. They’re really friendly.

Ten: Ah~..., then I might know one of ‘em too.

Chihiro: …Mama meow-meow~, will you let me pet you today~?

Mama Cat: Mrrrw, mrrw.

Kitten: Purr.

Chihiro: Hehe, do you want pets too, baby meow-meow? You’re both so cute.

Ten: You’re right about that.

Chihiro: …

Chihiro: (Those three having gloomy expressions… That was my fault, wasn’t it?)

Chihiro: (I thought I gave the best response I could’ve earlier, but…)

Chihiro: …, I’m a failure~.

Ten: ?

Chihiro: (I def have my concerns about their dancing abilities. But if I start putting on my producer face and tell them to start doing this and that, and pointing things out, and stuff—.)

Chihiro: (Things might end up being complicated again, just like back with the Evening Group. And I really don’t want that to happen…)

Ten: …

Ten: Well, I think just making good memories is good enough, you don’t gotta be so high-strung about it. Isn’t having fu~n supposed to be our motto? So I think things are fine.

Chihiro: Tenchamu…

Ten: If you get too strict dealing with amateurs, it’s just gonna lead to fights. And that’d just be a pain in the ass… And awkward, y’know?

Chihiro: Fights… …

Chihiro: (I absolutely don’t want that…)

Chihiro: Hm, that’s true. And everyone’s got different motivations for dancing.

Ten: Yep, yep.

Chihiro: Thanksies, Tenchamu!

Ten: Haha, I didn’t really do anything, but I’m glad you’re feeling better, Chihiro. Cool, let’s just say things are settled and head back home.

Chihiro: Yep, let’s go~!

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#18trip #18trip translation #chihiro natsuyaki #ten murakumo #kiroku kinugawa #muneuji kaguya #toi shiramitsu

17 notes · View notes

rillils · 10 months ago

Text

so um, so maybe i'm addicted to prompt generators. that might be a thing. hm. *screeches into the void*

rating: T wordcount: 1378 tags: fluff, crack, established relationship, bearded Steve because i've got a soft spot for him, general silliness, dorks in love, domestic bliss, aaand that's it i think

If life was fair, and not plotting to give Bucky an inappropriate boner in the middle of a crowded beach, then for once Steve might deign to look like any average guy enjoying a hot summer day with his man; rather than, you know, put to shame the rest of humankind with his luxuriant, marble-carved, sexy lumberjack league, mouth-watering presence.

But nope.

He walks out of the ocean with seafoam lapping longingly at his ankles, looking for all the world like Aphrodite and Magic Mike had hot writhing sex right there on the shore, without ever getting a single grain of sand in any uncomfortable places, and nine months later he happened, with his thick thighs and his tapered waist, and droplets of saltwater gliding down the slick planes of his torso like liquid diamonds. (Which Bucky will stoically abstain from licking off Steve’s skin. Not because he’s feeling especially strong today, no – just so they don’t end up charged with public indecency. Again.)

Steve’s face, though, as he splashes eagerly towards him, is the face of a kid who just spent the better part of an hour frolicking about in the water, flushed and animated, ecstatic, and bearing the promise of one hell of a nap sometime in the near future, out of sheer exhaustion.

He seizes Bucky by the waist with his big wet paws, and presses a victorious kiss to Bucky’s mouth, nearly causing him to drop his ice cream bar. Yes, the one Bucky bought just so he’d have an excuse to step back, and enjoy the newly familiar sight of Steve Rogers having the time of his life, in the most joyful, delightfully mundane of ways.

He should get to be this carefree every day. Bucky feels very strongly about that.

“Come back in, honey, come on,” Steve cajoles, wearing the biggest, goofiest grin Bucky’s seen on him in months. Possibly since the day he caught this very man hurtling down their driveway on a hoverboard, at breakneck speed, obviously, because the original S.G.R. device only has one setting, and that setting is called ‘STEVE YES’.

Now that was an experience. It would have taken some pretty heavy divine intervention for him not to go crashing straight into the trashcans, Bucky considers distantly – and God must have thought it wasn’t worth the hassle, if the big oaf was just going to pick himself up and try again anyways.

“In a minute,” Bucky promises him. Because, while there might be a universe out there where he’s actually capable of denying this guy something he wants, that universe is definitely not this one.

“Come on, the water’s great!” Steve presses on, his meaty hands squeezing gently at Bucky’s waist, deliciously cool against Bucky’s sun-warm skin. He’s like a big puppy begging for another treat, buzzing with energy, glowing with it from the apples of his flushed cheeks to the sparkling blue of his eyes. He is, for lack of a better word, fucking precious.

Bucky slides his free hand up Steve’s chest, metal fingers stroking appreciatively over the dark whorls of his chest-hair. It’s ridiculous, how quickly he’s ready to give in.

“At least let me finish my ice cream, first,” he says, waving the thing under Steve’s nose. He could swear Steve’s ears perk up, like he’s only just noticed the little stick in Bucky’s hand.

“Oh,” he says, and it’s a pleased kind of oh. “Can I have some?”

“’course. Here.”

Rather than passing the ice cream over to him, Bucky just lifts it to Steve’s lips, inviting him to take a bite.

Eyes crinkled with some secret pleasure, Steve leans in. The thin chocolate shell breaks with a crisp, satisfying crunch under his teeth, the creamy vanilla filling kissing his bottom lip and lingering there, helpless, until Steve collects it with a slow sweep of his tongue, never one to leave someone behind. The soft mmh he releases goes straight to Bucky’s gut, warming him from deep within.

He smiles, like he’s been trying to hold back and he just can’t help himself anymore. “Is it good?”

Steve gives him the Look – the one he gets in his eyes sometimes, when the toe-curling intensity of his gaze tells Bucky that he’s thinking about them – them in their bedroom, stumbling their way through the door with groping hands and tangled legs, laugh slipping into moan slipping back around into laugh, or on the kitchen counter, making the cabinets shake and the bag of sugar spill everywhere, or in the broom closet, caught by a mid-morning frenzy like they were last Saturday, quick and frantic and muffling each other’s moans, as if somebody might have walked in on them any second. And they’re in public, so Steve can’t do anything about it; but Bucky can tell he’s filing away all the words he wants to say and saving them for later, when he can lavish them straight onto Bucky’s sweat-slick skin.

“’S nice,” Steve rumbles, gaze dropping to Bucky’s lips for a long, deliberate moment. “But I know something better.”

A sweet shiver rolls down Bucky’s spine. “Do you, now.” He palms the side Steve’s neck, thumb circling over the delicate skin behind his earlobe, and pulls Steve to him, meeting him halfway into the kiss. Steve’s lips part gloriously for him, the hot caress of his tongue slipping the taste of chocolate and vanilla into Bucky’s welcoming mouth, spiked by a thrilling hint of salt.

A few drops of saltwater drip from Steve’s beard to land on Bucky’s bare chest, and from there trickle down his stomach, skirting his navel to soak into the waistband of his swim trunks, following a path Steve himself has traced with the tip of his tongue many a time.

Only too soon, Steve nudges his chin into Bucky’s own, pulling away, and Bucky chases his lips for one last peck before he lets go.

Steve looks back at him, his eyelashes fanning darkly, thick with moisture. His eyes come alive with his smile, gleaming with the pure, blinding joy behind it. Openly adoring, they are, in a way Bucky couldn’t perceive any more clearly if Steve were spelling it out for him.

He thinks Steve knows (how deeply, desperately) he feels the same way. He thinks he should tell Steve more often anyway, just in case.

“You gonna join me, then?” Steve asks, all sun-kissed freckles and hopeful eyes, hands giving Bucky’s hips a playful little wiggle. Silly man. Bucky would reach up and pluck the sun out of the sky for him, if he only asked.

Bucky grins, and hopes it doesn’t scandalize any onlookers, with how obscenely fond it must be. “What about my ice cream, though?”

The curl of Steve’s mouth turns unexpectedly mischievous.

“Just hold it out of the water,” he says, and with no further ado, he swoops in to hook one arm behind Bucky’s knees and hoists him up, startling an undignified squeal out of him.

“What–! ”

Steve beams down at him, an almost manic glint in his eye. “Let’s go!”

And with the enthusiasm of an excited golden retriever, he goes bounding towards the glittering waves, kicking up wet sand behind them. Bucky grabs onto his broad shoulders, partly just to feel the firm muscle there, and partly out of a last-minute sense of self-preservation.

“Steve!” He calls out, laughter ripped out of his chest, sudden and shocking, as they splash a bunch of shrieking children on their path. “Put me down, you punk-ass manchild–”

“Nope,” says Steve, relenting only once the water’s reaching up to their chests. There, he stops, swaying gently with the tide, and shifts Bucky in his arms until he’s got Bucky’s legs wrapped around his middle, gathering him close. “I’m your ride for the day.”

And how could Bucky ever object to that? The ocean dances sweet and placid around them, warm under the midday sun, and the man he loves wants him here, tucked in the circle of his arms.

“Fine,” he says, pressing the word to Steve’s lips with a slow kiss. Fine, have it your way.

His last coherent thought, before Steve licks expertly into his mouth, is that they might not escape the public indecency allegations today, after all.

#stucky #stevebucky #rillers scribbles #why yes i do think my writing gets progressively dumber xD #can't help it #the braincell loves these boys #the braincell is trying its best #the braincell is probably going to take a break for the next 2837445098 years given my history #just wanted to exploit it a little bit before that happens

35 notes · View notes

becca-e-barnes · 2 years ago

Note

Hey lovely! I love your work so much honestly you’re absolutely amazing! I was just wondering if you’d ever write anything for sbf!bucky again? I re read your work about him all the time and I’m a little bit of a whore for him 😅 no pressure whatsoever, it’s just that sweet baby has my heart 🥺

Sbf!Bucky has been really heavily requested recently and now I feel like I've been neglecting him 😩 I really enjoy writing him and it lets me dabble in my dream of being a milf some day

But I feel like he has a real sweet tooth. He's a dessert guy, 110%. Not like your husband or your son.

From the very first Sunday that your son brought Bucky over for dinner, he's been so into your desserts because a good dessert is something he's really missed during his last couple of years at college. It doesn't even really matter what you make, every week he tells you it's even better than whatever you made the Sunday before.

The store bought, dry cakes he sometimes treats himself to don't even come close to the fluffy sponges you make for him. He tells you your lemon meringue is better than the one his aunt used to make and your pies are probably a cure for sadness. He exaggerates but at least he sounds sincere.

And it's nice. It's nice that he appreciates your effort. It's nice that your desserts actually get eaten and enjoyed. It's nice that you're not sitting at the dinner table alone after lunch. Company is nice. Compliments are nice.

"I know it's late but I don't want you to think I'd forgotten." You made yourself busy in the kitchen, talking a little louder so Bucky could still hear you in the dining room. He usually helped you plate up dessert but not today.

"What are you talking about?" Bless him, he sounded so confused. "I can give you a hand if you like?"

"No, it's okay. Close your eyes." You thought your instruction was clear enough but Bucky still protested.

"Just close your eyes, Buck." You could've sworn you felt him raise his eyebrows but he did as he was told anyway.

You set the plate in front of him and laid a little dessert fork above his placemat. "I know your birthday was last Tuesday but I thought we could still celebrate it today. You're only 24 once." Bucky opened his eyes to the most mouth watering slice of chocolate cake he swore he'd ever seen in his life.

Two thick layers of moist chocolate sponge with a rich chocolate icing in between. The cake must have been heated for a couple of minutes, making the icing warm enough to make the layers slide slightly. Thick, warm chocolate sauce rolled down the sides, taking with it a light dusting of powdered sugar, almost washing away the single lit birthday candle. The plate was decorated with a perfect scoop of cool vanilla ice cream and some fresh strawberries, left overnight in a teaspoonful of sugar to draw out their juice.

"You didn't need to make a whole cake just for me!" His genuine excitement was heartwarming, quickly blowing out his candle before wax melted onto his dessert.

"Sweetheart, I make a whole cake just for you every week. Happy birthday." You lifted the little dessert fork, slicing through the sponge with it, making sure to add a little ice cream and a slice of strawberry before raising it to his lips.

You could swear he actually moans when the cake passes his lips. He makes the same noise at dessert every Sunday and you swear you never get tired of hearing it. It's so close to the noise he makes when he first sinks inside you and God, that sound is beautiful.

Your foot grazes his leg, gently but deliberately and there's a battle going on behind those eyes when he takes the fork from his own mouth. On one hand, your husband is in the next room, sitting beside your son, Bucky's best friend. On the other hand, Bucky needs you to know how much he appreciates this. Appreciates you. And if he's honest with himself, your husband and son being so close has never stopped him before.

"Fuck, you've ruined me." He groans, pressing his lips to yours in a hurry. Somehow you manage to stifle your surprise, catching up when he presses you back onto the dining room table.

"You and those fucking desserts. It's not fair. You get me half hard during dinner and then you feed me the best chocolate cake I've ever had? Do you know how unfair that is?" His hands are all over you, pulling your skirt up in between frantic kisses.

The chocolate cake is all but forgotten, the ice-cream left to melt while Bucky kisses your neck before he tugs your panties off, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans.

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #sbf!bucky #son's best friend!bucky #I am not a dessert girlie at all #I haven't reread my own sbf!bucky stuff in months I should do that #he's so fun to write for #for anyone following the 'becca buys a house' saga #I went to see the house I liked last week and it's not for me #the street was kind of noisy and I just know it would freak me out 😭#I have a viewing booked for a house on Wednesday night #it's in a really quiet area a bit closer to home but I'm not sure I love the property #and it's probably not likely to increase much in value #might cancel that viewing tbh #because I found one this afternoon that I'm really excited about #I love the area #I'm going to book a viewing on Monday but it looks like I could walk straight into it #loads of potential too #pretty good location for public transport #off street parking for my car #the kitchen has a cute little built in wine cooler 🥺#and the most exciting part imo: THE BACK GARDEN IS FAKE GRASS #I'D NEVER NEED TO CUT THE GRASS #I don't know why that excited me so much but it really did #fingers crossed it's not like the last one!!#tw: food #tw: food mention #tw: cheating

109 notes · View notes

grimalkinmessor · 7 months ago

Text

Age Swap bits with Panther Hybrid Mob but to the tune of Lilo & Stitch

———

Arataka is still sulking as they walk into the shelter. Anehito-nee ushers him forward with one hand on the small of his back, guiding him gently. He hates how fragile she treats him sometimes, but in this moment he's half glad for it. She's older than him by eight years, a purposeful child to Arataka's 'happy accident'. To Arataka, his parents don't seem all that happy to have him around.

Case in point; Anehito is taking him to the shelter today, because during the hurricane yesterday his parents had shoved him in the car kicking and screaming, leaving his beloved Wuu-chan tied up outside as they evacuated with the rest of the city. This morning, when they'd returned to an intact house, the only things that had been missing were the gutters and Arataka's dog.

When Arataka had started to cry, his parents had shoved him at his sister and told her to "take him somewhere to calm down" while they unpacked everything they'd stuffed in the car the day before.

Ice cream hadn't soothed Arataka. Neither had going to different dog parks and looking for Wuu-chan, because most of those dog parks had been wrecked. Six hours and a slow-setting sun later, Anehito is just as strung tight as Arataka and ready to take drastic measures.

So, the Seasoning City Humane Society it is.

But while he appreciate his nee-san's stubbornness—it had taken months to wear his parents down enough to get Wuu-chan in the first place and they certainly wouldn't like another animal in the house while they were trying to fix it, but Anehito has the incredible power of being a full grown adult who now only listens to their parents half the time—he just wants Wuu-chan back. He'd been old, his hips bad enough that he waddled instead of walked, but Arataka had loved him a lot. He was his only friend.

Plus, Arataka is pretty sure this place doesn't have any full dogs anymore. Over the years, the once rare breeds of "sapien-hybrids" had grown in number until they became as common as alley cats. Things with dog ears and human faces and digitigrade legs laying by fireplaces in big dog beds and being yanked around on leashes, all while being, notably, not a dog. Seasoning City is particularly overrun with them, and strays have become a big problem in recent years, so Arataka has no doubt that there's probably more hybrids in here than actual animals.

When he says as much to Anehito, the lady behind the counter smiles and reassures him, "Oh don't worry dear, they might look human, but they really aren't. Their brains aren't even well-developed enough to speak human language. The only real difference is that whatever pup you pick out will have a different diet."

"So you admit that you don't have any dogs in here," Arataka bites out, hugging himself. He wants Wuu-chan back, not some overgrown Frankenstein thing probably made in a lab or bred in a mill somewhere.

"Of course we have dogs! This past week we've brought in a pomeranian, a shepard mix, a—"

"Do they have human faces?" Arataka interrupts. When the woman merely blinks at him, taken aback, Arataka scoffs. "That's what I thought..."

"'Taka, don't be difficult," Anehito says, chiding. "Do you want to go back home empty-handed?"

And...

...Well no, obviously Arataka doesn't. He doesn't want to go home to a lonely house that will now be even lonelier than before. Anehito will be going back to her apartment soon, and Arataka will be left with nothing and no one to soothe his grief.

A new furry friend won't be Wuu-chan. But it also won't be nothing either.

Squeezing his arms tighter together, Arataka huffs. His expression must give him away, because Anehito nods. The woman behind the counter gestures toward the door to her left, and Anehito gives him a gentle shove towards it.

"Go on," she urges. "Pick someone out."

Grumbling, Arataka opens the door and steps inside, letting it close behind him. There's a short hallway, and then another door that leads to the actual kennel. Arataka slips through that one, and blinks.

There's a blocky maze of cages all around, with human features in every one. Arataka is disheartened to find that they're really aren't any real dogs back here, but he's quickly distracted from his disappointment by the way the hybrids are acting. A pair of tabby hybrids flatten themselves into the far corner of their cage, fur puffed up. Some sort of dog hybrid has somehow managed to scale the kennel fence and now clings to the top of it, trembling so hard the metal rattles. They all look positively terrified.

They're not looking at Arataka, but they're all pressed as far away from the outer hall as possible, as if something may attack them through the fence at any moment. Brow furrowed, Arataka looks around and tilts his head as he sees an open cage door to the right, at the far end of the hallway. He cocks an eyebrow, humming.

"So one of you is an escape artist, huh?"

He ventures a little closer despite himself, curious, and sees that the cage door has been bent and warped, the lock curled like a vacant banana peel and the chainlinks themselves twisted into the shape of a perfect circle; a big one. Whatever got out had to have been pretty large, but the door doesn't look ripped or eaten—just changed.

Weird.

The snake hybrid in the cage next to the bent one seems to have fainted. It looks a little gray in the face.

Arataka crouches down and sticks his fingers through the chain to poke it, concerned. It gives a weak, trembling hiss, but doesn't stir further. A little disturbed, Arataka backs up and starts looking around again.

He reaches the end of the hallway and turns, only to stop dead at the sight in front of him.

Something big stands in the middle of the next hall, a swath of shadow covering it even beneath the fluorescent lights. A sleek black tail lashes behind it, and when it turns to face Arataka, he can see that its eyes gleam like its tapetum is lit from within. It looks like a gorgon, with tendrils of black thrashing and swirling above its eyes as it lowers itself onto all fours. Arataka barely has time to breathe before it lunges at him, two long leaps before it crashes into his chest with all the force of a speeding train.

Arataka goes down with a cry of surprise, alarmed, but the strange hybrid doesn't take a bite out of him. Instead, it shoves its human nose against his neck and begins to snuffle, investigating Arataka's neck, his shoulder, his ear. He squeals a little when hot breath gusts past the cartilage, ticklish, and begins to giggle.

The hybrid pauses, pulling back to look down at him with a cocked head. From the well of lashing shadows, a rounded ear flicks curiously.

Grinning, Arataka reaches up and pets his hands through its hair—and it is hair, he finds, no matter how lively—scritching it behind a velvet ear. "Aw, you're friendly! My Wuu-chan liked to give hugs too," Arataka croons, already feeling a swell of affection rising up in his chest. He's always liked bigger dogs, though Wuu-chan was on the smaller side, being a corgi. Arataka is no stranger to being bowled over by the occasional overexcited gentle giant. The hybrid's gleaming eyes droop as Arataka brings up his other hand to pet both ears at once. "Poor guy, I bet that cage was too small for you, huh? You're bigger than the other ones."

A strange, grating noise rumbles its way out of the hybrid's chest, and Arataka blinks. It's a distinctly feline sound, but he's never seen a cat hybrid this big.

Shaking his head, Arataka walks curious fingers over its (his...?) head, and marvels at the sight of the shadows receding a bit at his touch. Enough for him to make out a slightly parted mouth, with a nice set of chompers glimpsed behind slack lips. This hybrid's skin is pale, his hands blackened into claws at the fingertips, and the thinnest line of fur fading out down his spine.

It's so cool.

Arataka's eyes are sparkling. His expression turns contemplative, then intent. Dropping his hands, he commands, "Get off now."

After a moment, the hybrid obeys, looking a little put-out that the pets have stopped. Pushing himself to his feet, Arataka dusts himself off and points, saying, "Sit!"

The hybrid sits, head cocked, like he's confused why he's being asked to do it. Face brightening, Arataka drops his stern expression and reaches forward to pet the hybrid again, rubbing his ears and scratching down the fur at the back of his neck. Another purr starts up, and even more of the shadows recede, enough for Arataka to make out the vague shape of a nose.

"Good boy!" he crows, elated. He squishes the hybrid's cheeks and declares, "Yep, you're the one. I'm not usually a cat person, but I can make an exception just this once. A troublemaker, but a good one! Just like me!" White eyes stare incomprehensibly back, but Arataka goes on. "How'd you like to come home with me?"

Given how quiet the kennel had been, and how silent the hybrid was, Arataka isn't expecting to get an actual answer. But he does.

"H...Home..." the hybrid gutters out, blinking. Arataka's jaw drops, and that sleek, black tail starts curling in a distinctly pleased way. "Home."

His voice is rough, unused, but very much a voice nonetheless. Arataka remembers that woman's words—they don't even have the ability to speak human languages—and wonders why he believed a word she said. This was very much a hybrid that just spoke to him, broken Japanese aside.

A big, talking, magic kitty that likes to give hugs.

Arataka squeezes the hybrid's head to his chest, petting faster, mussing up still-wiggly hair. The human features don't even bother him anymore; they're a feature, not a flaw.

Finally, he'll have a friend he can actually talk to.

"Yeah, you're coming home with me."

"Home," the hybrid croons, echoing. "Home with me."

Arataka grins. As he pulls back, his fingers catch on the standard black collar and he pauses. Tapping his foot, rubbing his chin, Arataka considers something. "Right, right, but first you need a name." Then, blinking, he thinks to ask, "Do you already have a name?"

The humanoid parts of the hybrid's body look adult; even bigger and broader than most grown men. It would make sense if he already had a name.

But he just cocks his head to the opposite side this time, staring again. Swaying hair, shadowed, pupiless eyes...

Maybe he didn't have a name. Maybe this was a pointless exercise.

Arataka sighs, then straightens his back, brandishing a finger forward and ending with a boop on the hybrid's nose. "Then, if you don't already have a name, you can be...Mob!"

Ears perk, and his tail flicks. "Mo-ob? Mob?"

"Yes, that's your new name," Arataka says with a firm nod. "I'll get you a new collar with your name on it once we get out of here!"

Arataka turns, fingers hooked in the black collar, and makes his way back to the first door. As they pass, the other hybrids whine and whimper in fear, clawing to get further away from them. A hamster hybrid passes out. Arataka rolls his eyes. What a bunch of babies.

He emerges out from the kennel, Mob in tow, in time to hear the woman behind the counter finishing up the paperwork with Anehito.

"—your number and address there. So, as of now, all of the animals we have are available for adoption—" she cuts herself as Arataka comes into view, eyes going wide as she cries out in alarm. "Except that one!" she shrills, swooping in to separate Arataka and Mob. Anehito-nee is there too, scooping Arataka up like he's ten again and hauling him back.

"What is that thing!?" Anehito screeches just as the other woman loops a leash around Mob's neck and holds him back. The shadows fill in again, just a little, and both girls shriek at the sight.

"I don't know, it was dead this morning!" the woman shouts.

"It was dead this morning!?"

She struggles to pull Mob back while also remaining as far from him as possible, eyes wide and spooked. "We thought it was dead! It was hit by a truck!"

Arataka frowns, wriggling to be put down. He's not a baby and all the screaming is making his ears hurt. "Well I like him! You're being mean to him!" Turning from his sister in a huff, Arataka holds out his arms in Mob's direction, calling for him even as Anehito hastily hauls him back further, feet off the floor. "Come here boy!"

Hair thrashing, Mob prowls forward, back muscles flexing a little as he heaves himself and the poor lady holding him towards Arataka, leash be damned. Arataka grins, giddy, and laughs as Anehito falls back onto one of the plastic chairs with a screech as Mob reaches up for Arataka and settles in his lap easily. Arataka gives him ear scritches for his effort.

"See?" he tells a distressed Anehito. "He's a good boy!"

"That is not a dog, Arataka," she grinds out after a moment, pupils pinpricked with panic even as her heartbeat begins to slow again.

"They don't have any dogs in here," Arataka fires back, clutching Mob's shadowy head close. The hybrid blinks placidly at him, eyes still glowing white, though it's less noticable out in the sun. "And I like this one! You told me to go pick someone out, and I pick Mob!"

"Mob?" the shelter lady ventures, brow furrowed.

Arataka pats Mob's head, silky black hair playing between his fingers. "That's his name now."

"Oh God," Anehito groans. "You already named it."

"Yep," Arataka chirps. His mood has improved tremendously since this morning, and he can see his nee-san's protests weakening the longer she watches him smile. He squishes Mob's cheek against his own, grin impish. A black velvet ear flicks against his wheat-gold hair. "So obviously we have to take him home now."

All of a sudden, like a candle flame being blown out, the blackness covering Mob's face fades rapidly. It recedes to make way for pale skin, a mild fanged mouth, and a pair of dark, dark irises. His hair goes slack, and as it falls back down into place Arataka can see that someone's given him a bit of a childish bowl cut. Mob yawns, sharp teeth flashing, and blinks mildly up at the Reigen siblings. A rough tongue slips out and slicks up Arataka's temple, making him cringe and laugh. He pushes Mob's face away, complaining, "Gross! Cat tongue!"

That seems to be the final nail that Anehito needs, because she studies Arataka and Mob carefully for one more moment, before sighing shakily and pushing to her feet. She squeezes out from beneath Arataka, leaving him to be squished by the full weight of Mob's upper half. Again.

A crisp five thousand yen note is stuffed in the other woman's hand. Anehito-nee sounds grave when she utters, "We'll take this one."

The woman looks at her like she's got a second head. But after a deadpan stare from his sister and vicious glare from Arataka himself, she slowly rounds the counter again and files everything away. A stamp, a signature, a receipt.

Arataka walks out of the Seasoning City Humane Society hand in hand with Mob, having refused the offered leash. He'd risen up on two legs when Arataka had offered his hand, and Arataka is delighted to know that his theory is correct. Mob is intelligent.

A clawed hand, the one not held by Arataka's small, soft one, reaches up and plays with the new brass tag on his collar. It has his new name, Arataka's phone number, and the Reigen address. He plays with it, turning it this way and that, trying to get his head down to see it better, batting at it so it jingles.

"Do you like it?" Arataka asks.

Mob looks down at him. Blinks again, slow and sure. "Yes."

His long tail curls around Arataka's wrist, and in the dying light of day, he can just barely make out wobbly spots in his midnight fur. Arataka's eyes widen. Mob is a jungle cat.

"Ahh so cool," Arataka whispers, swinging their hands happily. Anehito looks at him weirdly, but doesn't comment further. She must be preparing herself for the inevitable confrontation with their parents when they get back. She's much more relaxed around Mob now that he's not all dark and flickering like an old TV set.

"Remember, 'Taka, you have to be responsible with him. You know Mom and Dad aren't going to help you take care of him."

"Maah, nee-san, Mob can take care of himself," Arataka dismisses, waving his free hand. Mob can talk, after all, and he's an adult. Arataka briefly wonders if he really just bought a friend, the implications of such a thing ready to drown him—before he banishes the thought. It's not a nice one, and he's in a good mood right now; he wants that to last. "But I'll look after him! He's bigger than...than Wuu-chan, so he'll need a different bed." He looks up at Mob, who's already looking back at him. "You can sleep in my bed for now. What kind of food do you like to eat? I like ramen, it's the best."

Mob opens his mouth to respond—

But Anehito beats him to it. "Hybrids can't talk, Arataka."

"Well he can!" Arataka insists, scowling. Anehito just sighs and looks forward again. Mob seems to consider this for a moment, and then closes his mouth. Arataka huffs. "I'll just ask you when we get home."

Mob's tail uncoils from Arataka's wrist to brush it pleasantly back and forth, pushing up fluff against the delicate bones of his wrist. He gives Arataka the tiniest smile.

Home.

#mobrei #mobreimob #grim scribbles #age swap au #panther mob #reigen arataka #kageyama shigeo #mob #reigen anehito #<- that's not canon btw i just made up a name #drabble #idea void #mobbits

12 notes · View notes

tea-the-not-understanding · 8 months ago

Text

Some writing idea because playing Stardew ain't chill and give me angst idea on Icing.

Let just say, Icing is having an identity crisis. Not many know about this because I talk about this with my friend and besties so a few know about it. But Icing cookie been calling himself a cookie, just so he feel like he's part of them.

He's been cutting and explore their body part, just to learn about them and even did it to himself. And he soon learn that he are all icing, no cookie dough body or what so ever. Just Icing or cream or what ever it is and he do not understand it at all.. And when his friend found out about it, he began to kill them and in order to hide the body, he cook them up and share the treats to others. He learn this from the witches from stalking them for month on months. And soon, he grow to enjoy eating cookies like the witches did!

Ever since he met coffee anon. A taste of him, forcing him into a drug effects, making him more happy, giggly and jolly. Basically high and a dose effect much better then any kind of edibles. He began to eating them and become addicted. Even the effects manage to stop him from thinking that he isn't a part cookie. Soon he began to grow insane and crazy, making him depended on the drug effect to keep him cool and normal as he can. Now, he is panicking around in his empty cave, trying to figure what he is. Asking Lindsey for advice and what he is, isn't helping since Lindsey only know monsters and cookies.. And he learn that the hard way on why Lindsey do not eat him when they first met.

Now, his curiosity grow more and more as many day passes, a sound of a snow fall even enough to make him turn to look. All he got to depend on it that Coffee anon blood... Weeks goes by and his mind still pacing fast, he began to drink more blood then normal. His mind are asking hundred of question and no answers. He want to know what he is. He's not a cake hound, he's no creature he know, he's no Mergems, no cookie, not Anons, nothing. And it driving him nuts. Until finally... He got an idea. What if he's one of them? The witches. He learn from them, they eat cookies and cakes like normal. He learn that it normal and he do a lot like them.

He need to know, he need answers. At late night, he sneak out and travel far without Lindsey knowledge.. He need answer desperately. He needed it or else he won't be able to sleep peacefully at night. Maybe this might answer everything and kept the voices and question into silence.

He need to cut them open, a little flesh torn apart and see their inside. He need to know if he's one of them.

He's standing on the window, using a hook and rope to climb and get inside. He's walking through the kitchen, everything that he owns in the cave is the same as they own here. The flour, sugar, egg, butter and life essence and much more ingredients that unknown. He have them as well. The more step he took, the more he's convinced that he's one of them. And there they are. The witch. All alone in the room. It perfect. They are gigantic, Almost as big as Lindsey. It perfect. It fantastic.

He step, holding out a knife and stepping closer and closer, when the witch saw him, he fights back, dodging their attempts to grab him. Dodging their throwing and slamming the pan and kitchen tools on him. He roll and dodge. Even if a pan hit him, he can form their body back and jumping from items to items. It no different then jumping from mountain to mountains. He take a leap and stabbed the knife on the bridge of their nose. SPLASH! blood crashed upon him, he smile and laugh. It taste metallic! The taste is something that he never taste from a cookie ever!

He stab again before getting grabbed by the witch. He squirm and kicking then his eyes widened when he look down and see a cauldron. This must be the same cauldron that made Dark enchantress. When the witch drop him, it felt like the time are frozen or slowed down for him. But he won't get down so easily without a proper fight, he rip both his arms off and grow wings out of it by using his icing body. He flew up, aimed and then charged right at the witch.

Time feel so slow... The moment feel like eternal. And the fight take hours on and on between a small being against a large witch who create part of cookie kinds. All of this for a simple answers.

Even when the pain of being eaten and digest inside the witch, the feel of agony feel like eons for icing... The next thing that they both know, is that the pain on the two are too much to handle. Only one can make it out alive in this type of situation.

.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Icing, now, walking through the forest. Face looking down on the ground as his whole body are drench in blood. He found his answer. He taste them. He learn their anatomy and body. He learn it. And he's not one of them.. He's nothing but just Icing or what ever he is. He still don't know... His mane dragging on the dirt floor, face so blank, so emotionless as he still holding his large kitchen knife that he use to cut open the witch from inside out. He's walking back to the north pole, or what ever the place is that's too cold. So cold just like his heart and soul. To meet his only best friend and companion, Lindsey.. Who have been searching for him, worried sick.

He feel sick and all he could do, is smile and giggles while tears falling down his face..

#icing cookie #cookie run oc #oc #sona #angst #writing #uhhhhh yeah so this happened #stardew supposed to be a relax game and here I am making angst

8 notes · View notes

rolloollor · 1 year ago

Note

do you have any domestic mallerollo hcs?

Sure! There's kinda two versions of this for me, one where they live in Fleur City temporarily and one where they live in Briar Valley.

Fleur City

Malleus does the cooking. It's not that Rollo is incapable, but for Malleus, it's like making a gift for Rollo every time. He does cheat by using magic when Rollo isn't looking, though.

Rollo does the cleaning, of course. At first, Malleus cleaned the house with magic, but Rollo would go on and on about how terrible it was or how he had missed a spot somehow even though it was magic. And Rollo would just clean again anyway. So Malleus decided it would be better to just let him do it, clearly it provided something for him. For Rollo, it's soothing.

They don't have a TV, internet, or anything aside from a landline phone. So, they spend their evenings chatting, reading, or Malleus plays music to an audience of one.

On the weekends, they'll often go to a café on their way to visiting the gargoyles. Also, Malleus starts eating sixteen grapes and two croissants for lunch as well, since he doesn't care as much about what he eats. He does insist on having shaved ice or ice cream as a treat, though. Rollo initially isn't enthused, but he eventually accepts a coffee flavored ice cream.

Neither of them drive since it isn't necessary in Fleur City. But if it was, Rollo would do it. He knows the roads better and Malleus tends to go down side streets and take way too long to get to the destination. He also likes to wander around the waterways.

Everyone in their neighborhood would know that Rollo and Malleus are dating pretty quickly, even if Rollo forbade any PDA. They usually walk together, standing too close together, and no one can miss the looks they give each other. Rollo's mom and dad are probably relieved to hear that he's involved with someone.

At the height of their relationship, Rollo would let Malleus hold his hand in public, and Malleus would do it at every opportunity.

Oh, and Rollo takes major holidays somewhat seriously. He might not necessarily enjoy them, but you have to do x on this day. For example, he wouldn't dress up on halloween, but he'd have some treats ready to give out.

Briar Valley

Living in a castle with tons of servants is very different from sharing an apartment or something. I imagine the equivalent of a 'work day' for fae is also different, though who knows what exactly it is. Just stretching it into a week is kind of lazy, but it's hard to conceptualize for us humies.

Either way, Malleus does make it a point to visit Rollo when he can. They usually eat breakfast together, since Rollo wakes up early.

Rollo, with his high libido, tends to prefer having sex at least once a day. So when Malleus is particularly busy and doesn't have the time for days on end, he starts to get antsy and maybe irritable. When Malleus finally has time for him again, Rollo more or less leads him to the bedroom, which Malleus is more than okay with.

The one place Rollo won't allow servants to enter is their bedroom. He keeps that area clean himself, including doing the laundry and so on. It means he either has to use magic or an old timey washboard, though.

Malleus doesn't actually enjoy working as king. He does it because he must, because it's been his role since birth, but if he can slip away for a bit, he does. What are they gonna do, scold him?

If Rollo is stuck in the castle, he has to rely on hobbies to feel productive. He'll garden, he'll read, he'll maybe start teaching fae children about human history. Obviously he doesn't have to work, but I don't think he would be comfortable not doing anything.

On Malleus' few days off, they can't really go anywhere... They can have a picnic in the rose garden or ride horses around the castle courtyard. Malleus probably would arrange for Rollo to have his own horse and would be baffled when he names it Snowball (since Frollo's horse in the film is apparently named Snowball.) Otherwise, Malleus might take him to an empty room and simulate some other place with magic.

#rllr asks #mallerollo #malleus draconia #rollo flamme #twst

10 notes · View notes

t3mpest98 · 8 months ago

Note

Hiii, I bring thee some enrichment 😌 Emoji asks for Spade, Noir and Cyra (bc they're new and must get used to their enclosures):

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with? 🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat? 🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it? 🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for? 🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

Drink water :D

!!!!!! YESSS (also does it count if I have a lot of sweet tea? It’s vry good sweet tea)

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

Spade

Allllll of them. He is very emotionally constipated and tries to bury any strong feeling somewhere deep down inside so it can’t hurt him or interfere with his job

Noir

Ones like empathy or compassion because no matter how much he may want to show it (he’s long since stuffed that down in a box locked tight and it rarely peaks out) it could cloud his judgement or get someone he cares about killed because one minute you think you’re dealing with someone who needs help and the next they’re taking advantage of you or are able to kill you

Cyra

Things like anger or frustration come so easy that when she feels peace or even happy it feels like something is off or that she’s letting her guard down. And the last time she felt or did that well, she gets the friendly reminder in the way of phantom pains

🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?

Spade

Ice cream but the simple flavors, nothing to extrapolate or something with to many different flavors. Just seems over complicated and he can’t focus on the one specific flavor he likes

Noir

Donuts, glazed or powdered (can have cinnamon or not doesn’t matter he’ll eat it) ABSOLUTELY no sprinkles he hates them

Cyra

She reeeeally likes pastries but she’s not had one for years now. There isn’t exactly a bakery down in the lower levels of Coruscant

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

Spade

He doesn’t know, he’s never let himself think about anything beyond what was the next clear step. If he had to say anything it would simply be that he wished his brother would stop almost dying on him cause he may start going grey if Noir doesn’t.

Noir

For the love of everything good and holy he would wish that he could stop being in constant pain all. The. Time. So that maybe he could do more and be more useful than he thinks he is (he doesn’t even think about getting a way out of what they do now, since he’s been doing it for so long) But as to actually getting the problem solved (or at least lessened since there’s not really a cure for osteoarthritis) he can’t go far unless their medic can get the supplies they need

Cyra

To please just see the sky one more freaking time before she dies at least, even if it’s through a window or for just a few seconds. She would do near anything but she can’t without being killed

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

(Akkdkfkgkgkg apologies these seem very similar but like, they’re all they really have and are rude or die for each other)

Spade

Well given the fact that it has happened before, Noir, Thire, or even Cyra would be reason enough for him to go in guns blazing. It if he was told that this one more mission and he wouldn’t have to watch his vod’ike starve and die down in the lower levels.

Noir

Pretty much the same as Spade except the promise, if he had the promise to go after every single person who’s ever hurt him, his brother, and Cyra without repercussions than he’s game

Cyra

There are two people she even remotely still cares about left and she’s not keen on letting anyone hurt or kill them anytime soon so the twins. But if someone were to offer her a way off Coruscant and a way to make sure no one would ever be able to track her down she would take it

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

Spade

It really depends on who is on the tracks but he’s probably go for the track with one person on it then try to get them off it before the train got there. Now if he did see some of the really bad people he’s met then he’d let them get run over without a care

Noir

Not sure if he could find it within himself to care much anymore, he tends to see the worst in everyone so he doesn’t care who dies as long as it’s not someone he cares about. He knows that sound cold and heartless but you do what you have to do to survive

Cyra

This one is complicated because Kassai would have tried to save as many as she could but Cyra tries look away and not care at all

#kenzi’s ocs #oc ask #oc: ct-6687 | spade #oc: ct-6799 | noir #oc: cyra/kassai #I loved these #but also I’m so sorry it took me a bit to answer 😭

3 notes · View notes

sallysgrancanwrite · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter Fifty-Three

Masterlist

Six years have gone by since that horrible night. Chloe was able to get away only after Michael drank himself silly and passed out. Edith came and got her and Emma. She untied her and took her to the ER.

Nothing has gotten any better. Emma is in Kindergarten and loves it but her and her dad don’t get along. More than once Chloe has kept her home from school because of marks Michael has left on her.

Today Emma wanted to look really nice because they were having a concert for all the parents this afternoon. So Chloe picked out a pretty dress, which was Emma’s favorite, which was pink with little flowers all long the bottom. It had a tie along the back and puffy sleeves.

“Are you sure you won’t get this dirty at school?” asked Chloe.

“No Momma, I won’t, I promise. I’ll be real careful.” Emma said. “Will you braid my hair?”

“Oh Emma, I’m no good at that.” Chloe said.

“Can I see if Miss Martha will?” Emma asked.

“Okay, but hurry or we’ll be late.” Chloe hollered as she ran downstairs.

“Miss Martha, would you be able to braid my hair for me please?”

“I sure would. Come sit over in this chair and I will do your hair.” Martha said.

“Miss Martha, you’re coming to my concert today aren’t you?” Emma asked.

“Oh honey, I wouldn't miss it for the world. I’ll be there with your Momma. And now your hair is done.” Martha said as she gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Emma! “Chloe called. “It’s time to go honey, come on.”

“Okay, Momma. How do I look? “ she asked.

“Like a Princess,” said Chloe, smiling at her.

They hurried to school and Chloe dropped her off.

“I’ll see you for the concert, okay?” Chloe said.

“Daddy won’t stop you will he Momma?” Emma said looking down.

“No, Daddy’s at work. I’ll be here. Now get in before you're late.“ Chloe gave her a kiss.

She watched her walk in and got teary eyed thinking that her child was worried Daddy would stop Mommy from seeing her concert. Worse yet, she had to lie and tell her no. Chloe knew Michael could very well do something to cause her to miss this concert . She could not let that happen.

She got home and started helping Martha clean the house. She prayed Michael would not come home. 10 minutes before they were to leave Michael came home. Martha suggested they go out the back door but Chloe knew she’d be in more trouble. He walked in and sat down and poured himself a drink.

“Are you done for the day Michael?” Chloe asked.

“Yep. Why? Got something up your sleeve?” He said laughing.

“Martha and I have to go to the school for Emma’s concert. It isn’t long. Then I’ll come home and we’ll have fried chicken for supper. “ Chloe said waiting for the hammer to fall.

“Whatever, just go do whatever. But you better have supper on the table!” Michael said, pouring himself another drink.

Chloe and Martha didn’t need to hear anything else. They grabbed their purses and were off. They got to the school and got a couple seats in the third row. When the kids came on stage Emma looked for them and was excited to find them there. They sang their hearts out. They must have practiced for weeks. When the concert was over Chloe treated her to a small ice cream. But she had to promise to eat her supper.

They got home and Chloe turned the oven on to warm up the chicken. She made mashed potatoes and carrots.

“Michael, dinner is ready. Chloe told him.

“About time. I’m starving.” He replied as he grabbed the scotch bottle.

“Michael, would you like some coffee with your supper?” Asked Chloe, hoping he would stop drinking.

“No, I don’t want coffee! I want scotch. That is why I have the scotch bottle dimwit!” Michael hollered.

This would be another fun night at the Conrad home.

#original fiction #original story #writeblr

3 notes · View notes

lab-trash · 1 year ago

Text

Moments Caught On Camera (pt 2)

Read on AO3 if you like

“We’re at our first stop!” Kaz exclaimed.

The sun was much farther down than it had been the last time he’d had the camera on.

“It’s a Dairy Queen!”

“Oliver’s inside getting our food,” Bree said, peaking into frame as if she were filling in for Oliver. “We thought it was only fair that our little ice queen get that stuff,” She said.

“He can keep our ice cream nice and cold,” Kaz said with a small laugh. He turned the camera around, showing that Chase was where Bree was once sitting. “Our little driver gets a break, which he deserves,” He said. His arm came into frame and ruffled Chase’s hair as Chase looked on affectionately, but admittedly a bit annoyed.

“I’ve just been driving. It’s like the easiest thing,” Chase tried to humble himself.

“Yeah, but it has to be annoying, right?” Kaz asked. “I mean, I get bored and space out when I watch a show I’ve seen before.”

“I’m fine, Kaz,” Chase said, “It’s not hard work.”

Kaz must’ve decided to leave it be, because he turned the camera to the side— a new shot— to show where Skylar was lying on her stomach on the small leather couch next to the door.

“Well, clearly sitting in the seat beside the driver must be,” He teased.

“Shut up,” Skylar said, glancing up at him with a smile. “My legs hurt,” She said. “I wish I could go on a run, but Smartass McSciencehead says we can’t use our powers,” She said, craning her head to look at him as she spoke.

“You can go on a regular run,” Chase criticised.

“I packed your jump rope so you can get some exercise once we get to the RV park,” Bree said. Skylar smiled at her sweetly.

“Thanks, Bree,” She said.

Kaz kept the camera on them, even as they just continued to stare at each other for a short moment. It was quickly interrupted by Oliver coming through the door, struggling.

“Okay, I got ice cream, drinks, and food,” He said. “And you fuckers better be thankful,” He said, in a way that made it clear that he was joking… for the most part.

“Yes, yes, thank you Oli-Pop,” Kaz said as Oliver put the food and drinks on the table. He put the ice cream in the freezer, likely to minimise his work.

__________

“Chase, tell them what ice cream you got,” Kaz said as he filmed Chase opening the freezer to get out all the different ice creams.

“Who’s them?” Chase asked. “Are you posting this somewhere?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Or maybe I’ll just show it to our future kids,” He said. “Our, as in the teams. Like, y’know, my nieces and nephews not… Just tell them what you got!”

“Did Chase even get anything interesting?” Oliver asked. “I mean, his must be the vanilla in a cup; the most boring thing,” He criticised.

“Actually, that’s mine,” Skylar said with a bit of a snarky smile.

“And by boring I mean classic!” Oliver rushed to correct as Chase handed her her choice.

“What’d you get Oliver, Dr Judgemental Dickwad?” Kaz asked.

“I got a Turtle Blizzard,” Oliver said, crossing his arms as Chase placed the aforementioned treat in front of him.

“Bree, your turn,” Kaz said, turning the camera to the girl beside Oliver.

“Chocolate Brownie Blizzard,” Bree responded simply, happily taking her cup from Chase.

“Kaz,” Chase said, handing him the second to last cup. Kaz turned the camera to face himself.

“I got a Reese’s Blizzard, because I’m a basic bitch,” He said with a smile. He turned the camera back around to Chase. “Saving best for last, Chasey,” He said. Chase took his spot next to him, shedding the drink holder.

“I got a cookie dough blizzard with chocolate ice cream and marshmallow,” Chase admitted, seemingly feeling guilty.

“Holy shit, really?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah,” Bree said through a bite of ice cream. “When Chase lets himself have sugar, he goes all out,” She said. “The first time he had sugar—”

“No,” Chase pleaded.

“He had 13 pieces of cake, and manhandled one of them,” She said. Chase groaned and hit his head against the table. Kaz tugged his fingers into Chase’s head.

“I mean,” He said, “If I’d gone 15 years without cake, I probably would’ve done the same thing.’

You could see Chase’s smile from the side and the mic picked up a small laugh. Kaz removed his hand when Chase started sitting up.

__________________

The camera was being held by Bree this time. She showed her face discreetly for just a second before flipping it to Kaz and Chase across from her, who kept stealing glances at each other.

“Do you want to try mine?” Chase suddenly asked, looking at Kaz. “It… seems like something you’d like.”

“Oh,” Kaz said, seeming surprised. “Yeah, sure,” He said.

He held out his spoon toward Chase’s cup, expected to scoop some up, but instead Chase scooped some and held it in front of Kaz’s face. Kaz hesitated, but wrapped his lips around the spoon and took the ice cream off.

“Oh, that’s good,” He said with a laugh, allowing the nervous tension from both boys to fade away.

Bree flipped the camera back around, looking extremely annoyed and shocked at her teammates.

#lab rats elite force #lab rats #mighty med #chase davenport #kaz mm #kase #kaz lref #chaz #oliver mm #oliver lref #bree davenport #skylar storm #moments caught on camera

5 notes · View notes

fenth-eiria · 2 years ago

Text

B and Pip's human realm date.

B and Pip walked on the sidewalk as they talked endlessly about their shared interests. B then noticed the ice cream stand and turned to his lover.

“Would you like some ice cream?” He asked with a warm smile as Pip nodded quietly.

“Yes.” He practically whispered before B went over and ordered some ice cream for both of them. As they continued walking, Pip was furiously enjoying his ice cream, while B watched on all flustered up. Pip stopped to look him in the face.

“Why are you red again? You keep getting flare ups every time you look at me like that.” He said still not understanding the concept of blushing out of love. B shook his head for a minute before chuckling at what his love had said.

“It means that I love how you do things. It’s just so cute.” He replied with a grin before patting the former’s cheek and adding.

“Do you want to eat our sweet treat at the park across the street?” He questioned in a loving tone, while Pip looked at him very blankly. The tall old ruler gently snapped in front of his lover's face.

“Pip? Hello?” He asked with concern in his tone as the younger man slowly came back to his senses.

“Hmm? Oh! Yes, sorry, I was just shocked you called me cute.” He admitted before B grabbed his hand and brought him to the park. They both decided to sit on a bench so they didn't have to worry about losing their ice cream or bumping into others. B stretched himself as he sat next to PIp, happy with how this date was turning out the way that he hoped for. He then playfully turned and nipped his ear, causing the latter to cough up his ice cream and blush profoundly.

“B!” He exclaimed as he covered the ear that was nipped and looked at him with a shocked expression.

“Why did you do that?!” He added while rubbing his ear, making B giggle with enjoyment.

“That’s what some humans do to show affection, at least that’s what Luz told me.” He admitted while pondering about what he just did. Pip looked at him while thinking to himself.

‘I wonder why B loves me?’ He questioned himself before bringing himself back to reality. He then saw the older man picking up some trash that had fallen to the ground, causing Pip to chuckle at the sight of a ruler being so humble.Once he came back from picking up garbage off the ground, he went to sit back down next to his lover.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked, which made Pip think for a moment before his face lit up and he whispered into his partner’s ear, whose face was neutral for quite a bit.

“Are you trying to get drunk or are you wanting to do karaoke?” He questioned with a semi- serious face before it burst into giggles. Pip nervously chuckled as replied.

“Both…” He responded while B stood up and offered his hand.

“ Alright then, Let’s go.” He said as he led his partner to the building, and held the door for him. Once they entered, they both found a place to sit and Pip ordered some strong rum. As Pip got more drunk, B stared at him in the most dreamy and loving way possible. With him drunk, he realized that there is about to be a bunch of cute random singing. As the music started to play, Pip grabbed a mic and started singing.

“There was a time. I don't know when. I didn't have much time for men, but this is now and that was then, I'm learning. A girl alone, all on her own, must try to have a heart of stone. So I try not to make it known my yearning. I try to show I have no need. I really do, I don't succeed, so let´s bring..on the men, and let the fun begin, a little touch of sin, why wait another minute, step this way it's time for us to play, they say we may not pass this way again, so let's waste no more time. Bring on the men. I always knew, I always said, a silk and lace in black and red, will drive a man right off his head, it's easy. So many men, so little time. I want them all, is that a crime? I don't know why they say that I'm too easy. They make me laugh, they make me cry, they make me sick, so god knows why, we say bring on the men, and let the fun begin, a little touch of sin, why wait another minute, step this way it's time for us to play, they say we may not pass this way again, so let's waste no more time, bring on the men. They break your heart, they steal your soul, take you apart, and yet they somehow make you whole, so what's their game? I suppose a rose by any other name, the perfume and the pricks the same. I like to have a man for breakfast each day. I'm very social and I like it that way, by late mid-morning I need something to munch, so I ask over 2 men for lunch. And men are mad about my afternoon "tease" they're quite informal. I just do it to please, those triple sandwiches are my favorite ones. I'm also very partial to buns. My healthy appetite gets strongest at night. My at home dinners are my men friends delight. When I invite the fellas over to dine, they all come early, in bed by nine! so let's bring on the men, and let the fun begin, a little touch of sin, why wait another minute, step this way it's time for us to play, they say we may not pass this way again, so let's waste no more time bring on the men!” He sang while B stared at him with a shocked face, realizing it was a song about sex.

“Ummm. Okay, so that happened. I’m guessing you are unaware that the song is about sex, right?” He asked with his head buried in his hands for a few seconds before pulling them down, Pip was too intoxicated to respond as he sat back down and finished drinking. B kindly paid the bill and had to literally drag his lover out of the bar. Pip then decided to randomly speak.

“ I want you to fuck me..” He mumbled very slurry, the older man stopped in his tracks and looked down at him with a hopeful expression.

“You would? Uh?” He asked with a smile on his face.

Something I wrote for @the-epileptic-toh-blog

I hope the rest of you enjoy it!

#toh king b #toh pip #toh fanfic #ship fic #my writing #not twin rulers au

6 notes · View notes