#writing these little feel-good drabbles has been the highlight of my days

[mountainsandmayhem]

congrats on 500!! 💗

ILYSM!! could you write this drabble we were talking about😈 a lazy Sunday morning riding Joel..he says something like “use your daddy” and/or “that’s my girl.” thank you daddy 🤭😂

Sunday With Your Dad’s Best Friend

18+

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

AN: thank you baby for this great request. I hope this lives up to your expectations 🩵. Did I proof read this? No, of course I didn’t. ✌🏻 YOLO.

CW: I don’t want to give away too much, but wrap it up (be better than these two) use of nicknames and based on the ask one of those nicknames is daddy.

Joel freakin Miller. Your dad’s best friend and your secret hook up for the past few months. Sunday mornings with Joel might be your favourite. Your parents think you’re at work, but instead, you park your car in his garage and spend the day flirting, cuddling and fucking.

It’s a beautifully warm summer morning, Joel is sitting on a pool lounge chair in his backyard, long legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. He’s in mid thigh length neon green shorts that accentuate his tan, and no shirt. Sun kissing his chest, and it feels weird to be jealous of UV rays that get to touch him in places that are only for you.

He glances up over his book to watch you swimming laps in his pool. The water glistens off your bare back and ass, legs fluttering gracefully beneath the water. As you reach the end furthest away from him you dive under, spinning your body and pushing off the wall to swim back towards him. As you come up to the surface you spin onto your back, cherry pink nipples skimming the surface as you backstroke through the water. He’s never been more thankful for all the tall trees and bushes he planted to make his backyard completely secluded from his neighbours.

Joel puts his book and reading glasses down as your naked body ascends the steps of the pool in front of him. He crosses his toned arms and tilts his head to the side, eyes watching the water droplets run down your body, pooling in the curvy areas he loves so much.

“Gonna get a sunburn if you aren’t careful, baby girl,” he says, concern and arousal fighting each other in his voice.

You blink at him, gathering your hair to the side and squeezing out the water. “Yes, daddy.” You tease, water splashing against the hot paving stone of the pool deck.

He shakes his head and smirks, a dimple forming on his cheek, highlighted by the sun glinting off his greying facial hair. “Careful with that nickname, darlin’.”

Baby girl and darlin’ in a matter of minutes has you itching to get your hands on him. “You just called me two nicknames back to back. That’s cheating.”

“Cheatin’, hey? How so?” His voice has dropped an octave, and that’s almost worse than a nickname.

You wander over to the table beside him where your towel sits. You reach out for your towel as you say, “Makes me want you.”

Joel grabs your wrist, his large, strong hand easily circling the tapered part of your arm. “That right? Someone feelin’ needy,” he pauses before adding, “Sweetheart.”

A little whimper escapes your throat as his coffee and brown sugar-speckled eyes wash over you.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, pulling gently to stand beside him. Your eyes flick down to the tent forming under his swim trunks.

“Can I…” you start, voice shaky and shy.

“Don’t be shy, baby girl. I’m yours, remember?” You nod as he continues, “And you’re mine. So anything you want. Anything.”

You shut your eyes and take a slow breath, perky breasts rising and falling close to Joel’s face as his thumb caresses the smooth inside of your wrist as a form of silent encouragement. “I wanna ride you.”

You open your eyes to see Joel smiling proudly at you. “Good girl,” he hums, releasing your wrist and slipping his swim trunks off. His cock is hard as nails from just the sight of you, he leans back in his lounger - not quite sitting at a full 90 degrees.

“Come on, baby. Straddle me,” his hands come to your hips as you stretch one leg over him and then down onto his lap. His thick shaft rests between your bodies, your pussy sliding along him as you sit. Your clit twitches with every vein and ridge.

Your hand's card through his hair as his hands move to the globes of your ass, encouraging you to grind along him. You lower your face to him, kissing him slowly as you buck your hips back and forth. You swallow the deep moan that passes his lips, slanting your head and licking along his bottom lip.

He kneads the curves of your ass, ��more,” you whimper.

He lifts you slightly, then brings one hand to his cock, pumping it a few times before teasing your clit when the head, pre cum leaks from the slit and he spreads along your already soaked and silky cunt.

“Shit, darlin’, so wet already,” he whispers, sliding the head to tease at your tight entrance.

This is your favourite part, the painful little stretch when he first pushes himself in. He always gives you time to adjust before fucking you, today is no different as he pushes your hips down to swallow all of him. You cry out as you settle onto him and his lips crash into yours to stifle you. “Sshhh, the neighbours could be out,” he mumbles into your lips, chest heaving as he adjusts to your tightness choking him.

“Sorry, just feels so good,” you moan quietly.

“I know, baby girl. I know.” His strong hands massage at the creases of your hips. “This what you needed? Me buried deep inside that beautiful little pussy?”

You feel the walls of your pussy flutter around him. Joel is good with his hands and tongue and has the perfect sized cock for you, but it’s his filthy mouth that usually starts that familiar ache to build at the base of your spine.

“Yes,” you huff, slowly grinding into him.

“I can tell. So tight for me. Can feel you fluttering around me already.” Your hands move from his hair to his broad shoulders, using them to leverage yourself so you can get better momentum to slide back and forth.

“Oh god, Joel,” you coo. The ache turns into bubbling lava.

“Kiss me,” he says, strong arms winding around you and pulling you into his chest. You kiss him deeply, tongues lazily flicking against each others as you glide your hips back and forth against him. At this new angle, the soft part of his lower body hits your clit, the slight curve in his cock hitting that spongy part that makes you weak and boneless.

All of the movements from you and Joel are slow and soft, almost lazy. Neither in a rush to orgasm or to get to the next part of your day. This is all that matters right now.

Joel breaks the kiss, hand sliding up your back to the nape of your neck, gently encouraging you to turn your face so he can kiss along your jawline toward that soft part below your ear. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly, just for you to hear. “Use your daddy to cum.”

Your body jerks faster, the bubbling lava close to the eruption point. He lets you move at your own pace, flicking your hips once, twice, and three more times before you feel it. “Good girl, let go,” his teeth graze your earlobe as you fall apart.

You bury your face in his neck. Whispering his name, body going slack. He takes over, hands gripping your lips tightly and moving them in the same pattern you were.

“Oh fuck….yes, daddy. Please,” you’re a whispering, mumbling mess as the pleasure waves through you. The sensitive hard bud at the top of your cunt twitching and pulsing with each graze of his belly. “Don’t stop, Joel. Please - please don’t stop.”

“I know, sweetheart. I got you,” he doesn’t speed up, doesn’t slow down; he does exactly as you ask. “That’s my good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

“Fill me. Fill me, please.” You whine, kissing the crook of his neck.

���Fuck. Shit, baby girl.” He says, head falling back to the lounger. You pull back to watch him. Eyes clenched tight and mouth slightly agape. Small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Look at me,” you whisper, slowly retaking control of your body, swivelling your hips into him. His soft brown eyes peel open, dancing around your face. “Please, Joel.”

“Call me daddy,” he moans, his dick getting harder as you ride him.

“Please, daddy. I’ve been such a good girl. Fill me.” You say sweetly, just the way he likes it, before sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Joel’s breath hitches as his hips stutter, hands clamping down on your hips to still you. “Shit, yes. Yes. Oh fuck, you’re so good for daddy.” His cock jumps and twitches inside you as ropes of cum coat you, marking you and claiming you as his.

As he comes down he pulls you onto his chest, lips kissing lightly along the hairline of your forehead. “God damn, little one. I love when you talk dirty to me like that.”

You nuzzle deeper into his warm chest. “Noted…daddy.”

A deep growl fills his chest. “I’m still inside you, careful with that nickname.”

“I’m having Deja Vu,” you joke.

“As soon as I get control of my legs, I’m takin’ you inside and lickin’ that little pussy clean in the shower,” Joel says matter of factly.

You giggle, “Anything you say, daddy.”

[icarustypicalfall]

Hi! I have a silly request but since we are both Rudy lovers (i am also radiant cod) can you please write a short little react on „I want uns to move in together“ especially Alejandro, Rudy, soap and ghost. Oc is female and ask that question 😭🥰

Hello fellow Rudy lover :3

Of course!! this is such a cute thing request awwh :')

DRABBLES!!

Cod Men's Response to reader asking them to move in together!!

Including: rudy, alejandro, ghost, soap Warnings: sfw, pure fluff, fem!reader Note: I can do a p2 with the rest of the characters if y'all are interested :D

«Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?»

Rodolfo Rudy Parra

From the moment you met Rudy, you knew he was the right man. Not only because of his sweet demeanor, but also because of his charming personality and kind nature that made you fall hard for him. You and Rudy have been dating for almost a year and a half, and he has always treated you like a precious and delicate creature. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

While you lived in the southern side of Las Almas with your family, Rudy resided in the bustling center of town. Getting to meet him was always a significant journey, especially with the increasing cartel crimes that made it unsafe to roam the city. However, the allure of spending nights in your lover's apartment was irresistible.

You were ready to take the next step in your relationship and couldn't wait to tell him. One late night, after spending the day together at his flat, making pizzas and dancing, you cuddled on the couch, sipping the Champurrado he had made. Rudy chuckled and gently wiped the chocolate mustache stain from your face before speaking lovingly.

"I haven't had this much fun in a while, mi amor," he murmured, brushing the strands of hair away from your face. "You seem distracted, amor. What's wrong?"

You sighed, placing your mug down, knowing it was the perfect moment to ask him. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you gathered your courage.

"Promise me you won't get mad?" you said, looking into his eyes.

"You didn't like my abuelita's recipe?" he replied, giving you a disappointed look, causing you to laugh and shake your head.

"No, it's... I just miss you, Rudy. I feel like we're wasting time living apart. I wish we could... you know... live together. And it's..."

"You want to move in with me?" he interrupted, cupping your face and looking both serious and surprised.

You slowly nodded, furrowing your eyebrows, wondering if it was indeed a good idea. But Rudy's expression turned into a wide grin, as if to make sure you weren't joking. He pulled you into a warm embrace and showered kisses all over your face. Then, with a surge of excitement, he babbled in quick Spanish giving you a whole monologue, though you couldn't quite make out the words.

You assumed he was just thrilled, as he jumped up and rushed to grab his phone, yelling, "TE QUIERO TANTO MI AMOR!" before locking himself in the bathroom to happily inform Alejandro.

translation (i love you so much my love!)

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

After the betrayal of Phillip Graves and witnessing your lover wounded but still fighting with all his might, you were certain of two things. Alejandro Vargas was a loyal man through and through, and he was the man you wanted to be by your side until the end.

It was quite amusing how you had never considered moving in with him sooner, given that you both worked on the same frontlines, fighting against the same enemies, and spent countless nights together guarding your beloved country. The time had come to embark on a new chapter together, though you were unsure if he would agree. However, the thought of losing him that day shattered any trace of doubt or fear, leaving you with an overwhelming desire to hold him in your arms.

After a delightful dinner, you joined Alejandro on the rooftop of the base, a cherished ritual the two of you shared. Sitting in his arms, gazing at the stars, was the highlight of your day, especially since Alejandro was always busy with his duties. He motioned for you to come closer, opening his arms to welcome you as you rested your head on his thigh, relishing in the sensation of his fingers running through your hair. You inhaled his musky scent, your eyes fixed on the dark expanse above. Alejandro's smile brightened as he planted a tender kiss on your forehead, then whispered softly.

"My love, is everything alright? I haven't seen you this pensive in quite some time," he chuckled as you rolled your eyes, prompting you to share what was on your mind.

You sighed, sitting up and locking eyes with him. "I just...miss you," you confessed.

Furrowing his brow, Alejandro nodded, encouraging you to continue. "Miss me?" he queried.

"It's just...I wish we could spend more time together. I thought a part of me died when they took you away. I thought I would never see you again. That day made me realize how much I love you, Alejandro."

His gaze softened as he uttered a heartfelt, "I love you too," nodding for you to proceed.

"Would you like to move in together?" you blurted out, looking in his eyes with a hopeful yet anxious gaze.

The grin on his face widened, and he looked away briefly, his cheeks flushing with excitement. He bit his lip, unable to contain his joy.

"I was actually about to ask you the same thing, mi cielo..."

SIMON GHOST RILEY

You and Ghost were like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, despite both being reserved and chilly individuals. Behind closed doors, you shared a love that no one expected to blossom. You connected on a deeper level, communicating your feelings without the need for words. It was as if you could understand each other's thoughts. Just like Simon, he wasn't fond of people, and neither were you.

Silence was your sanctuary, and you relished in the tranquil moments, indulging in activities during the early dawn or late night when the world was at its calmest. Spending the night at Simon's small flat in the city, the most peaceful corner of the bustling nation, felt like being in a place where you truly belonged.

He allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, gradually revealing more of his true self, shedding his mask on certain days, and even letting you take care of his hair and face.

Those special days spent together created cherished memories. Deep down, you yearned for more, wishing he could be the last person you saw before bed and the first person you woke up to. You hoped he felt the same way. Simon believed that actions spoke louder than words, and he made sure to keep you happy, occasionally letting slip a heartfelt "luv you."

Once again, you rose early to a cold day, with the usual morning fog lingering until the sun's rays pierced through.

It had become a habit to take Simon's dog for a walk before breakfast, as the nearby coffee shops opened up. Side by side, you walked in silence, inhaling the stillness and watching the droplets of water on the road. Simon placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, drawing you close for warmth as he calmly asked, "You alright?"

You sighed and nodded, your hands fumbling to warm them up. He clasped your palm, tucking it into his pocket, grumbling, "You should have told me straight away. There's no point in venting to Gaz." You looked at him in shock, feeling your cheeks flush. He had overheard your conversation with Gaz about how much you wanted to move in with Simon.

Ignoring your embarrassed state, Simon muttered, "Next time, tell me. I never said you weren't welcome there. Didn't know you had a parrot's brain.. that place is your home too." You gulped, staring at him in astonishment. "You, you don't mind?" His response was simple, he looked away and you swear you saw his eyes twinkle for a moment, "Never said I did."

JOHHNY SOAP MACTAVISH

The holidays were approaching, and you knew that you wouldn't see Johnny for at least two weeks. It broke your heart to be so close yet still apart. The Scottish man resided in a different city, causing the pain of distance to gnaw at you. No matter how many nights you spent together, one of you always had to leave in the morning, leaving the other to bathe in the sorrow of separation.

You longed to gather the courage to ask Johnny to move in together, but fear held you back. He was a composed man who loved you more than his beloved mohawk.

As everyone packed their belongings for the holidays, preparing to return to their flats, family homes, or partners, you entered Johnny's room and set your sports bag aside before sitting on his bed. A small laugh escaped your lips as Johnny scowled, procrastinating on packing until the last minute and now struggling to fit numerous shirts into his bag. You folded a shirt, assisting him in the task before smiling.

"So, Johnny, what are you going to do when you go back?" you asked. He grinned, carelessly tossing the clothes into the bag despite your protests. "Well, bonnie, I'm going to visit my family, and then I'll come to your place andbkidbap you and make you spend the rest of the holiday with me." You laughed and shook your head. "Can I tell you something, Johnny?" He furrowed his eyebrows, mumbling as he focused on his packing. "You'll come to my house. My mom has been dying to meet you. No excuses."

You chuckled and replied, "Well, I mean... I'd love to meet her, of course. But what I was actually talking about... do you think it's time for us to take the next step?"

The look on his face was priceless, and you had to playfully slap his arm to prevent him from blurting out something scandalous. "Not that way, you idiot. I meant... I think we should move in together. It feels like the perfect timing."

His grin widened, and he swept you off your feet, twirling you in the air. "I can't believe you said that, bonnie.. We..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence as he slipped on one of the shirts scattered on the floor, causing you to fall on your rear while he ended up trapped in his bag.

"Bonnie, help me!" he exclaimed. You chuckled and teasingly remarked, "I"I think I might just reconsider this step..."

𓆩♡𓆪

MASTERPOST

kindly like and rebelog, it motivates us to continue :)

[roll-for-gaslight]

we are a lighthouse

Summary: A late night with the bad kids where they finally unpack some things that have been weighing them down.

A/N: this started as a drabble where the kids cuddle and evolved into... this! Hope you enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57798592

-----

It’s been a long night. Well, it was a long day, and a long night on top of it. The Bad Kids stumble together into Mordred Manor at almost three in the morning, as tangled up in each other as they always are. Riz is curled around Gorgug’s shoulders, mumbling all of the clues he has yet to write down so that he doesn’t forget them. Fig and Fabian are leaning on each other heavily, the Infaethable Bass and Fandrangor clanging noisily against each other as they talk through the highlights of the fight. Adaine is on Kristen’s back, the latter still casting the last of her healing spells to help them all be a little more comfortable. They don’t discuss sleeping arrangements, and no one bothers to try to separate. Adaine summons air mephits to carry various blankets and pillows down from her tower, while Fig dimension doors to her room and right back. As the boys start to arrange everything, Kristen goes into the kitchen to grab an armload of water bottles for everyone and some ibuprofen out of the medicine cabinet.

There are several moments of shuffling around, everyone helping to finish their makeshift bed and getting comfortable. Fabian collapses into it first with a dramatic flourish and a low, tired groan.

“I never want to move again,” he complains, only for Riz and Adaine to immediately force him to adjust as they lie down as well. Riz curls into a ball (ha) on his left facing away from Fabian and in towards the group, tail snaking out to wrap around his leg. Adaine is on Riz’s other side, curling around him until she can rest her head on Fabian’s chest. She grumbles a complaint as he shifts onto his side to face them instead, letting her head rest on his arm and tangling his right hand into Riz’s hair.

Gorgug is the next to go down, reaching over to grab Fabian’s free hand from behind Adaine but ultimately leaving plenty of space for the final two party members to climb in between them. Fig makes good use of the space by sprawling almost sideways across Gorgug, her legs tangling with Adaine’s despite the space between them. Kristen joins the knot of girls in the middle after only a few more seconds, laying sideways like Fig and resting her head on Gorgug’s stomach. Fig’s arm slides around her waist, and Fabian groans slightly at the feeling of her accidental kicking.

“Kristen, if your cold as fuck feet touch me again I’m cutting them off,” he murmurs, and Fig giggles into her shoulder. Riz shushes him.

“Stop complaining, she got Ray of Frost-ed earlier, you can suffer.” he grumbles, and now Gorgug is laughing too, then Adaine as Fabian lets out an affronted noise. He mutters one more complaint, then Kristen giggles as she kicks him gently again. He shoots her a glare before everyone finally settles; they’re silent, but no one is asleep. There are several long seconds like that. Then—

“So, what did you guys see in the forest?” Fig asks, voice as sure as it always is but softer than they’ve ever heard it. It’s a tone she reserves for them, her parents, and, more recently, Ayda Aguefort. It comes in at the moments they need it most, usually alongside a bardic inspiration to lift them out of their lowest points. Adaine hears it in the middle of her panic attacks, while Fabian remembers hearing it that night on Leviathan.

It makes sense, of course, that they would have to talk about the Nightmare forest eventually. It even makes sense that Fig would be the one to decide it was time to do so, always unable to keep herself from addressing the elephant in the room.

What’s surprising is that Fabian answers first.

“Chungledown Bim said he was going to shit in my mouth, and the sexy rat from freshman year was chasing me. Cassandra said Chungledown was just actually there, which really fucks me up.” he admits, and there another moment of silence.

“He’s never going to touch you,” Riz says the words with such absolute conviction they can’t be anything but true.

Adaine’s eyes, against all odds, flash blue-white. The air grows tense for a few seconds as she arches upward, then Gorgug catches her head as she falls back again. “Mini-prophecy. He’ll never touch you again, Fabian.” she says confidently, and the whole room lets out a sigh of relief. There’s a slight lull before she continues. “I saw this weird phantasmagorical circus nightmare. Biz from the AV club was there, and he had me in an… orb, like what I was in in Fallinel, or maybe it was more like a palimpsest. I just kept leaning into the fear until I found my parents. The rest of it you guys already know.”

Kristen frowns. “God he was so shitty. Congrats on killing your dad, though, I don’t know if I ever told you that.”

“Thanks,” Adaine says as soft chuckles echo throughout the group at Kristen’s words. Fabian, possible the only one in the group who can understand the complex emotions that come with killing your own parent, pulls his hand away from Gorgug’s to gently run it through Adaine’s hair. He’s not usually much of a physical affection type of person, but it’s something Cathilda does for him when he’s sick or upset. She leans into it with a small, soft smile.

Gorgug is the next to speak up, voice as gentle and steadfast as always. “I went up against a sphinx that told me how stupid I am, then a tunnel that kept getting smaller and smaller until I got stuck for a while. I’m not even sure how I got out, I just… I just kept going.” he says, and as he says those final two words, an echo of the private sentiment that never quite reached his friends’ ears, a soft blanket of magic settles over the group. Those who are sensitive to it shiver, Fig’s tail flicking as her eyes zero in on Gorgug.

“Gorgug, did you just use magic?” she asks, and his eyebrow furrow in confusion, reluctantly propping himself up on his elbows.

“No, I don’t think so,” he says.

Fabian sits up as well, a spark of something in his eyes. “No, I’ve felt that before. In the forest. I thought all hope was lost, but then I had this moment where it was like I just knew everything was going to be okay again.”

Everyone starts talking over each other at once, sharing similar moments from their time in the forest. It happened five times for each of them, and that makes for easy math. Since Gorgug is the only lead they have, they start there. It takes minimal prodding before Gorgug bashfully shares his theory.

“I thought, just maybe, that some of us might end up crossing over the same paths if we were all headed to the center of the forest. When I made it to the other side of the tunnel, I felt really scared and alone. I didn’t want any of you guys to feel that way, so I used a trick my parents taught me to record an enchanted message on a rock so that you would know you were going in the right direction,” he explains softly.

Adaine carefully clears her throat before speaking. “What was the message?”

“It’s Gorgug, keep going.”

The magic that settles over them is stronger this time, rejuvenating and relaxing them all at the same time. Everyone settles back into their same positions as before, muscles relaxing despite the strain from the intense fight earlier in the day. It’s silent for a long stretch, but they all know the conversation isn’t over. Fig and Riz are just waiting each other out.

To everyone’s surprise, Riz breaks first. “I know what I did in the forest, just running away without warning, wasn’t fair to you guys. It was just the scariest thing I could think of, just rushing in without a plan or backup, so I thought it would help me find Kristen. After that, I saw Baron, the creepy skeleton boy who kidnapped me and claimed to be my romance partner.” He sighs quietly, “He forced me to come to terms with something that I’ve been meaning to tell you guys for a while; I’m aromantic. I’m not getting my kisses in because I don’t care about kisses, and I don’t want to date anyone.”

There’s a split second where everyone is still processing the information before— “RIZ!” Kristen sits bolt upright and yanks him into a hug that rivals the strength of Ragh’s bear hugs. ”I’m so glad you’re officially queer, you so have to join the GSA with me and Ragh! It’s really great, and we have other a-spec people in there too! And other people who are still new to the community, so it won’t be too overwhelming or anything,” she rambles.

Riz laughs softly, hugging her back as the other bad kids also get up to hug the two of them. It lasts several long moments before they all resettle, a mess of squirming limbs and too-sharp elbows in all the wrong places. For how graceful most of them seem while in combat, they all sink to Kristen’s level of dexterity in softer moments like these, enjoying the playfulness that comes along with it.

Fig buries her head in the crook of Kristen’s neck, holding her tighter than before. Grogug brings his spare hand down to rest a heavy hand on the back of her hair, gently carding his fingers through the mess that is her post-battle unbrushed hair. He pulls some remaining bits of rubble from it, and he sees the moment Adaine casts prestidigitation to clean them both up.

“I’m scared,” Fig starts softly, tone so fragile it feels like she could shatter at any moment. Kristen wraps her arms more securely around her waist. “I’m scared that if I tell you guys what I was really thinking about in that moment, you’ll hate me.”

“We could never hate you,” Riz responds immediately.

“You’re our best friend, and we’ve seen you at your best and your worst. We’re not going to think any less of you for what was on your mind at one of the scariest moments in all of our lives,” Adaine assures her.

Kristen nudges Fig’s horns with her own forehead until the other girl looks up at her. “If you don’t want to share, you don’t have to. I’ll still love you no matter what you say, though.”

It takes Fig several more long moments to finally speak again. “I was so focused on how much of a fuck up I had been the whole adventure. I kept thinking about the horrible things I did to my dad and to Riz, and how my whole mess with Hell had messed with our timeline. I felt like an imposter, like I didn’t deserve to be around you guys. I saw another version of me, and it was like I disappeared and she replaced me, except she was actually cool. She knew exactly what to do, she was helpful, she seemed like she had a plan immediately. She’s the version of myself I’ve always projected out to others and she’s a lie.” she says.

Kristen nods slowly, giving Fig a small smile. “I think you’re awesome just the way you are. You’re one of the nicest, coolest people I’ve ever known,” she says sincerely.

Gorgug nods in agreement. “Without you, I never would have been able to figure out how to be an artificer and a barbarian. It really came down to that moment where you encouraged me to pick up drumming. When you saw me having a hard time, you went out of your way to talk to me and help me even though you didn’t have to.”

“On the first day of school, before you even knew my name, you saw me having a panic attack and tried to take the fall for a stupid thing I did to get me out of trouble. It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen anyone do, and the kindest anyone had ever been to me at that point in my life,” Adaine admits softly, and FIg feels her heart grow warm as her friends reassure her. The final traces of the magic from earlier remains as just a gentle tingling on their skin, and after a few beats Kristen starts giggling.

“We get to tell Aguefort he was wrong,” she points out, much to everyone else's confusion. “He thinks chronomancy is the greatest magic of all and one time he told me that love isn’t magic. We just proved that it can be.”

[mckeeks]

it's about to get real sappy up in here

It's been a hot minute (years in fact) since I've really engaged with fandoms through Tumblr. Life took over and got in the way and I felt like a lost a little piece of myself for a while. Joining the HH/HB community and forming these genuinely wonderful friendships with people, has been so dang good for my mental health.

I forgot how much I missed collectively enjoying our niche little interests and ideas; sharing headcanons, writing drabbles, loving on all you ridiculously talented and creative beans. I hate living in the UK because timezone differences can suck a dick (don't ask me how late I stayed up talking about Husk 👀) but chatting with my favourite mutuals here - it's the highlight of my day. I love seeing your updates!

Basically, you're all fucking magical and amazing; I love this community. Thank you for making me feel like me again. ❤

[misc-obeyme]

hi ur writing is literally amazing can i ask u some stuff regarding it/how you go about writing/advice? feel free to ignore this if its not something youre comfy with

were u ever nervous to post fic? i just posted my first one and am like. super embarrassed (i also have a Guilt Complex that influences that lmao). if so, did you find it easier as you kept writing?

also how the hell do you write endings/get the motivation for them? youre really good at tying things together nicely at the end (or the occasional Leave 'Em Wondering) and im curious about your process for it. i can pretty steadily get up to the scene i started the fic to write but after that brain and motivation go honk mimimi

anyways thank you for sharing your work with the internet! i love reading your stuff its always a highlight in my day :)

Hi there, anon!

So first of all, I absolutely LOVE questions about writing, so please always feel free to send me any you may have! I'm such a nerd, I really love talking about the process and I'm happy to discuss it or share advice and so on!

Secondly, omg you're so sweet! Thank you, I'm so glad you like my writing!

Now then, lemme answer your questions! I apologize in advance for the LENGTH of these answers, but I seem to be incapable of writing about this sort of thing without it turning into an entire essay.

Yes, absolutely, I was extremely nervous when I first starting posting my fics. Some of that may have been that I hadn't written fic in a while and I was nervous enough about sharing, but I was extra nervous about messing up characterization. I wasn't used to writing for characters that I didn't create myself. I got nervous again when I started posting smut, too lol.

The thing about this type of anxiety in general is that exposure therapy really is the cure. It's like that for a little bit at first, but the more you do it, the more you prove to yourself that it's no big deal. Nowadays, I have almost no anxiety when I'm posting something fluffy and even most smut pieces are easier for me to post, too.

Another piece of this is remembering that the reason you write fic is for your own enjoyment. You're putting it on the internet on the chance that someone else might like it, too. But really, you have to focus on the things that make you happy. It's easier to deal with posting anxiety if you keep your focus on the joy of creation rather than the adrenaline of sharing. It's hard to do, but it gets easier the more you do it!

Okay, so endings! Uh, here's a fun fact about me, endings are my weakness lol. I have a lot of practice starting things and then never ending them because I absolutely get bored at a certain point. So I know exactly what you mean by the brain going to honk mimimi land.

For me, the trick was to write short stuff. Most of my fics are just scene length. This allowed me to get some practice with writing more endings because I didn't get bored when I was pretty much just writing one scene. So I found a couple things that I like to do for endings specifically, but then I also discovered a way to sort of keep my brain engaged while writing longer stuff.

It kinda all comes down to what you want to leave the reader with. That final paragraph or sentence can really deliver an impactful emotion. So you kinda have to think about what the rest of the scene is about, what specific feeling do you want the reader to have when they get to the end? If you're not sure, you can also frame it as what kind of feeling do you want to have at the end?

One technique I like to use is tying everything back to the beginning. I've used it multiple times, but it's probably most obvious in this Barbatos drabble. The first and last sentences are the same, but you don't have to be that blatant about it lol. That was mostly a stylistic choice. But if you look at the third paragraph and the last paragraph, they are parallels of each other, but they're different. What they convey is that something has changed by the end. So by repeating pieces of the beginning at the end, I'm deliberately illustrating what changed in the middle.

It's like thinking of the ending as a sort of summary of everything that happened in the middle of the story. If you're writing something longer, you can apply this to individual scenes as needed. But you might end up with an entire scene at the beginning and an entire scene at the end that do the same thing (rather than a couple of paragraphs).

Another thing I like to do is leave an implication of further action that isn't included. Something like "You wouldn't leave his room until morning." or maybe "You had a feeling something like this would happen again soon." Like this isn't really the end, but the rest is up to your imagination!

This is more specifically about the last paragraphs/scene/sentence, though. It's good to think of a way to recall the entirety of the story you just told, leaving the reader with the overall feeling you were going for.

But when it comes to longer stories, if you're finding you make it to one scene and then stop, well, that might be the end of your story. For this kind of thing, it really helps me to think about what the end game of the story is. For instance, in my longest fic, The Threads That Bind, I knew it was a Barbatos x MC love story. So the "end" couldn't happen until they had confessed their feelings to each other. A lot of other stuff happened before that, but it all contributed to that final plot point. And there isn't much story after that. The final scene is their confession. (There is a spicy epilogue, but that was just a bonus lol.)

So if you can decide before you even start writing what the goal is, you can write to that goal, filling in a bunch of cool scenes along the way. It doesn't have to be that you know exactly what happens or what the final scene is. When I started writing Threads, I had no idea how the confession was going to go. I just knew that Barbatos and MC had to end up declaring their love somehow.

But I tied that into the rest of the story with the theme of the threads. It was a visual anchor as well as a metaphorical one - magic let them see threads binding them together, but the feeling of belonging to each other was kind of the point of it all. So I was able to take that concept that I'd already used and incorporate it into the final confession scene.

NOW THEN all of this might also be easier if you're an outline type of person, but I most definitely AM NOT. Other writers swear by an outline and you'll probably find a lot of information on how to use one if you Google it.

But outlining for me is like pulling teeth, so I never do it. I write my first draft in a fever dream, with the end goal and a handful of ideas about overall themes and a couple things that I just think would be cool or fun to write. I spend a lot of time daydreaming about the story first, too, but I don't write anything down until I'm writing that first draft.

I could probably write a whole book on my methods for writing, but my biggest piece of advice for this kind of thing is EXPERIMENT.

The best part about writing is that aside from the basic fundamentals (spelling, grammar, sentence structure, etc), there are NO RULES. So if you're finding you're always struggling with finishing, try out anything and everything that might help you with that. Try writing outlines, try not writing outlines, try ending your story with the scene you were working toward, try thinking of a new scene you want to write as the ending scene. If it works, great! If it doesn't work, no problem! Just chuck it and try something else.

Sometimes the best thing for me to do is to ask myself what would be the most fun to write next? And then just going for it. My opinion is that you can always edit things later!

Anyway, I hope some of that helps! I'm sorry I really rambled quite a bit, but like I said, I love talking about this kind of thing lol.

Good luck, anon, and I believe in you!

[whinlatter]

january recs: reading, listening, writing

jumped on the bandwagon to do my own shameless round-up of january highlights, including a lil WIP sneak peek.......

Reading:

Already Gone by @takearisk-ao3 (AO3) (Harry/Ginny, multi-chapter WIP, post-DH)

the talk of the town amnesia fic, has me absolutely gripped. also the last chapter was 🥵 and by that i mean it was low key hot uhh excellent

and tomorrow came again by bettysgarden12 (A03) (Gen, next gen, twoshot) '

'an examination of the children of heroes'. beautiful, rich writing, and a charming insight into the next gen’s journey through hogwarts. it’s sharp and bright and so hopeful. made my whole day. also the phrase 'a hurricane in a skinsuit' has lodged forever in my brain

up and down and barely made it over by cosmicwritings (AO3) (Bill, oneshot)

given i am a sucker for a brilliant character study and for bill weasley, i couldn't not love this. rich in insight and warmth for our unproblematic coastal king bill weasley

perimeter walks by @evesaintyves (A03) (Remus/Tonks, WIP)

a remadora vignette series that just aches, it's so good. there's this really bodily, physical quality to the writing that just stays with you in your bones ages after reading. cannot wait for more

drafts by @turanga4 (A03) and the sum of all parts by @incalculablepower (A03) (Dean, drabbles)

all the pieces @harrypocter winter sun fest have all been really excellent, but i particularly enjoyed these two short dean character studies, especially if read together. both carefully and tenderly explore dean's relationship with his art and his reflections on his life and his war, and really pack such a punch for east london's golden boy

to be always kind and true by clarewithnoi (AO3) (James/Lily, oneshot)

a really tender jily love confession fic, lovely in so many ways but particularly this line: 'She still isn’t looking at him when a noise erupts from his throat.  It’s somewhere in the family of scoffs, but it’s not mean.  It’s strangled and a little hoarse, and it leaves him as though through an attic window, where he can’t control its escape.'

Listening:

ceilings by lizzy mcalpine (like every other sad girl on tiktok)

emily i'm sorry by boy genius (ditto)

tropic morning news by the national (like every other… sad dad with an electric vehicle? idk)

sunset by caroline polachek (these days i wear my body like an uninvited guest - good! fckn! opener!)

i bet on losing dogs by mitski (because there's a y in the day)

Writing...

putting out orchards after so long, and actually having people take something from it was the best part of this month. if you read it and reached out i cannot thank you enough, truly brought the sunshine to the dreariest of januaries. if you haven't read it and like jocks in love then have i got the fic for you:

right now... i’m writing a few new things. the project i’ve been working on most is a new one called beasts. its alternative title is: the hanging out with hagrid award. it's multi-chapter, pre + post-war, and it's about our girl gin. it’s foresty and a bit feral and its vibes are kind of like this and also this:

‘How do you become an Animagus?’ Sunken eyes dart briefly to hers, alight with something. Stupidly, she gets her hopes up. But then he looks away, scratches Buckbeak’s wingfeathers where they’re starting to matt. ‘I suspect,’ he says, ‘that your mother’s opinion of me wouldn’t be much improved if I told her fourteen year old daughter how to risk her life to become an illegal Animagus.’ She’s actually thirteen, at this point, but decides pointing that out won’t help her case. ‘Since when were you scared of what my mother thought of you?’ She’d quite like a grin from him for that, doesn’t get one. He’s in one of those moods. Not for the first time that summer, she feels herself slip into a sulk. She inspects him, through her scowl, how his skin is pulled taut over sharp cheekbones, a face ghosted by grandeur. She thinks she might have been able to make Sirius Black laugh, once, if she’d been born twenty years earlier. Resents that she's missed the boat.

and also a bit like this -

'We teach our children that ours is a world sorted into beasts and beings. Don't you know a beast when you see it? Even the smallest child in our world knows that beasts are savage creatures. They know nothing of humanity, of conscience, of kindness. They live only by their own lawlessness. Beings, we say, are not like beasts. We beings have laws, government, a sense of common good. Beings know right from wrong. Beings know what we owe to each other. I used to think this war had made beasts of beings. But now I wonder if the beings might well have been beasts all along. Are wars just the savagery of beasts by another name? What if beastliness is a requirement of being? What if being is trying to overcome our own beastliness? And what if we can't? I wonder what to make of this. I wonder what I will teach my children.'

[tellmewhatyouc]

fic writer year in review

i compiled this list of prompts to reflect on a year of fic writing/reading, and here's my own answers!

✨ the first fic you wrote/posted this year

beneath the stars, my first blade/huey fic! this was from when i had little jars of nu:c characters on paper and word prompts for brainstorming

✨ your most written fandom, character, and/or ship

fandom: nu: carnival character: quincy ship: blade & quincy

✨ the fic you had the most fun writing this year

not TECHNICALLY a fic but i have a nukani modern AU going in rp threads, we have a cast-wide polycule with a focus on quincy, kuya, blade, rei, and it's been SO FUN

✨ your most used tags

fluff, pre-canon, modern AU, friendship, angst (are we surprised)

✨ a time you tried something new (character ship, fandom, style, trope, etc)

i wrote for a handful of new fandoms: coffee talk, qsmp, genloss, and ordem paranormal! with genloss i tried a new genre in horror, which i never expected to enjoy TBH. also just juggling multiple fandoms at a time was never My Thing but i love it now i understand i've changed

✨ the fic you're most proud of this year

ummM i'm very proud of finishing not quite anointed but i did write most of it in 2022 so. maybe be not afraid bc it was waaay out of my comfort zone (hero/villain AU) and i did a lot of worldbuilding for it (that i wanna write more about later)

✨ if you track your writing in any way (words written, time spent writing, days you wrote something), share your stats!

will update this after new year's for my own reference but currently i'm at 124 hrs of writing time 💪 and 88k posted on ao3 apparently

✨ any challenges/events/etc you participated in this year (or your favorites if you don't want to list them all)

fandom rhythm volume 2 🌈

our first coffee talk fanweek, i didn't end up making anything for it but i did organize it

running the nu: carnival flash fic challenges has been fun even tho it's on a bit of a break rn

various exchanges/gift boxes on dreamwidth, those are lovely

multifandom match was crazy, i had so much fun and i'm so excited to do it again next time

i also reopened sweet & spicy bingo which has been a good time

there's probably more but those are the HIGHLIGHTS that come to mind

✨ the last fic you wrote/posted this year

it's gonna be my nukani secret santa fic i think! unless i get a burst of inspo after the 24th

✨ your writing goals(s) for next year

MAYBE finish i feel fine and make some progress on soft focus edits. otherwise the usual "write whatever i want"

✨ your favorite fandom/character/ship to read about

been Hella enjoying dsmp AU fics despite having watched like 15 mins of actual dsmp content and not knowing any of the lore, most of the stuff i've read is SBI-centric but i also love a good pumpkin duo moment

✨ your most searched tag(s)

probably just the general "medical" tag tbh

✨ the shortest fic you read this year

i like narsus's nukani drabbles, one of my faves is Momentum

✨ the longest fic you read this year

most definitely tommyinnit's clinic for supervillains at 188k, it had me at the Medical Themes and jumpstarted my love for hero/villain AUs

✨ a finished fic you enjoyed reading this year

pins and needles, would you believe that it's. a dsmp hospital AU. what's funny is i had no idea who quackity was when i first read this and now i'm a qsmp ho

✨ a wip you enjoyed reading this year

i have 2 in mind!

providence: another dsmp AU fic, but apocalyptic this time

til death do us in: it's so cool to see a fic inspired by my own and i've had a lovely time reading acelaw again

[vivantesopales]

I don’t say “trust me” as I push off and hug the wind, my blades singing from the taste of dark-glass ice. He doesn’t say “I’m here”, never has to. After that messy toe loop I pull off, he catches me safe, our orbits meeting, etching distracted circles towards the far shore. It’s sunset hours at the lake, and when he smiles there’s gold leaf in his lashes. He kisses me now, holds me here at this gilded edge of the universe – my home is never a place, I realise then, and he kisses me slowly like he’s always known.

03.11.22 – @liquidluckdrabblechallenge: frozen, gold, pride

[lonelychicago]

so i saw this:

https://swiftiediaz.tumblr.com/post/689789455040757760/new-addition-after-he-finds-out-buck-is-now-the

and maybe could you write a drabble with genderfluid eddie and buck applying make up to him?? pretty please? i think it would make my day <3

ok so all of this started thanks to @two-cut-lines ( thank you very much, bc eddie in a skirt and eyeliner is everything and i would die for him )

and uh, if you wanna see eddie with eyeliner @gayedmundodiaz made a beautiful edit <3

also, i never wrote anything like this so i apologise if it's not what you were expecting from me lmao. ( it's also not exactly what you asked but it kinda got away from me )

Eddie loves his family, he loves Chris with all of his heart and spending time with his son is one of his favorite things in the world. Spending time with him and Buck is something that always makes Eddie's heart sing with joy and a warm feeling of peace.

But sometimes, like now, he needs alone time. To explore himself, to see what truly makes him feel comfortable in his own skin without having to explain or fear judgement.

He's been working with Frank in therapy for months now, and it's not like Eddie's cured. He still struggles sometimes, he still has bad days or even a bad week. He doesn't think that will ever completely go away, but he's making progress.

So, finally, he's at a place where he can finally admit that he likes wearing clothes that may not be conventionally masculine or made with him in mind.

So that's how he finds himself, home alone while Christopher is spending the day with Denny at Hen's house.

Eddie's in front of the mirror, admiring himself in th mirror, wearing short black skirt clinging to his hips in a way that makes his legs look so long, with a chain attached at the waist and some ripped fishnets. He's wearing black combats boots, and to finish the look, a green silky half-buttoned shirt, reveling his toned chest.

He also has strings of silver chains hanging in layers around his neck, numerous rings perched on his slender fingers.

They're a little expensive but Eddie's working on being a little selfish, so he thought it'd be good to spend a little on himself. Not a lot, but enough that he's now gratefully for it, feeling pretty and sexy and himself as he looks in the mirror.

He smiles, brushing a hand through his hair and hesitating a little before he goes into the bathroom and looks for the little make up he bought in a spur of the moment thing.

He applies it carefully, unsure of what he's doing but determined to see ot through. It's slow and it takes him a while but after half an hour his cheekbones are shimmering with silver and gold highlighter, and his eyes are outlined in black eyeliner, making them look impossibly wider.  

And just because he has the worst luck in the history of the universe, as he's finishing doing his make up, he hears the front door open.

"Eddie?" Buck's voice calls his name.

Eddie's frozen in place. He's not ready for this. He was supposed to be alone today, just to explore and see if it actually felt comfortable. And it does, it so does. But– he's not ready to share this side of him just yet. Not with Buck. Not with anyone, for that matter.

But it's too late. As he looks up, he locks eyes with Buck in the mirror.

They stare at each other for what feels like hours but most probably are just minutes, if not seconds. Buck's blue eyes are wide but Eddie can't find any disgust or rejection in them.

He hopes.

"Buck? Say something, please." Eddie's voice comes out small and scared, still, and he hates himself a little bit for that.

"You– Eds–" Buck stutters. "You look beautiful." He whispers. "So pretty." It comes out breathless and so low that Eddie's not sure if he's supposed to listen or if Buck's talking to himself.

"Really?" He turns around, hopeful.

"Yeah, Eds. I mean it. You look— stunning. So gorgeous it's actually a little hard for me to think straight right now." Buck smiles, softly, tenderly. And then chuckles. "No pun intended."

"Buck." His voice comes out disbelieving.

"It's okay, Eddie."

-

It becomes a thing they don't really talk about. They don't ignore it, Eddie feels comfortable to show more of himself around Buck now, so it's not like they pretend it never happened. Buck even learns how to apply eyeliner and looks at tutorials on tik tok.

It warms Eddie's heart, to feel so accepted and loved.

But they don't talk about it. They don't talk about the way Buck's eyes fall to his lips everytime he does Eddie's eyeliner, so close he can see every freckle and imperfection in his face.

They don't talk about the way they progress to Eddie sitting on Buck's lap everytime the man goes to do his makeup.

And he doesn't want it to stop. When Buck does his eyeliner, he frowns and sticks his tongue out in concentration, it's adorable and Eddie lives for those moments. He wants them to last forever.

Maybe they're not ready just yet. Eddie thinks. They're dancing around each other and maybe one day he'll be brave enough to close that gap, to take everything he wants without being scared.

But for now, this is enough.

[periwnklblu]

i loved p2 to make it right 🥺 i think its so healthy for them to grow apart so they can be stronger together ugh its so great to see 😤 i was hoping to request for my sweet boy sakusa, maybe a drabble of him planning a date super hard but it ends up being a disaster, like everything that could go wrong went wrong but the reader still has a good time anyway hehe idk im in a soft mood rn but if u dont want to no stress!! have a great day/night:)))

ahh tysm i literally did a little happy dance when I first saw this 🥺this request was so cute, I'm sorry I took so long in writing it. i hope you like it and ty again

sakusa x gn! reader

warnings: none just soft fluff, a few curse words and a Sakusa who is trying his best. maybe slight ooc sakusa?

everything italicized is a flashback, normal font is present.

feedback is much appreciated <3

Komori felt odd when he first woke up this morning. There was just an air to this Monday morning that made him feel like something was off, almost as if he were forgetting something. He spent the entire morning walk to school racking his brain, trying to remember what was so special about today. It wasn’t until he waltzed into his homeroom and found his cousin uncharacteristically laying his head against the desk in defeat that a light bulb went off in his head; Kiyoomi had his first date with y/n last night.

Judging by his body language, along with the “go away” Komori receives from his cousin in response to his cheery good morning, the libero was willing to bet that the date did not go according to plan.

“I take it the date didn’t go too well?” Komori treads delicately as he settles into the desk next to the brooding Sakusa.

“No, not exactly”

“Even after all your extensive planning? I mean, you literally had a plan a, b, and c for incase something went wrong. It was color coded and everything! Nothing that is planned with color coded highlighters and bullet points can possibly go wrong” Motoya explains in a matter-of-fact way.

“Well, it didn’t go to plan. Literally any of the plans” the ace finally lifts his head up, revealing a red spot on his forehead from where he was placing pressure. Komori laughs at his cousin's angry expression until the ace sends him a look that sends shivers up his spine. Even though his face was mostly covered by a mask, Kiyoomi’s glares still made Komori just slightly scared for his life.

“So tell me,” Komori gets comfortable in his seat, getting comfortable as if preparing for a great story time. “what went wrong?”

“Everything” Sakusa deadpans.

“It couldn’t have been that bad?”

“It wasn’t bad per se,” Sakusa pauses to sigh before continuing. “The date was fine, I guess. They didn’t seem upset or anything. But all my plans went to hell”

“Well, what happened?” Motoya impatiently asks, eager to know what has gotten the usually stoic Sakusa all emo.

“It all started when I got onto the train to meet up with them, and the train station was ridiculously full. Not only was it overcrowded, but some kid accidentally spilled his soda all over me. And of course, this happened right as I was getting off the train”

Sakusa pauses his rant before turning himself more towards his relative. This is how Komori knew the real story was just getting started.

“Just as I was about to text y/n that I was going to be late so I could change, they happened to spot me somehow in that train station. And of course, they’re a perfect being so they don’t mind that I look like I pissed myself. But I mind. So I tried getting them to just wait for me while I go home to change, but you know y/n. They’re stubborn as ever. So, we go back to my place together”

“Oh?” Komori wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You and your crush go back to your empty house together. I see, I see.” he strokes his imaginary beard inquisitively.

“Don’t even start” the ace rolls his eyes. “The entire way there, I’m not only embarrassed because of the stain on my clothes, but I’m also freaked out that we’re squished so close together”.

“How close?” Komori nosely inquires.

“Very close”

“Like too close?”

“No, not too close. I-I mean yeah kinda, their butt was pressed up to my d- why am I telling you this?!” Sakusa’s blush creeps up his face behind the mask. But even without being able to physically see it, Komori knows his cousin is flustered.

“Because we’re family. But fine, get on with the story” Komori makes a hand motion to continue.

“Whatever, I’m glad my misery is entertaining to you”

“Very much so”

“So we finally got back to my place and of course this happens to be the rare time that both of my parents are home. They’re obviously surprised that I brought someone home, but the worst part is they weren’t even mad that I was trying to bring someone over with nobody else home. In fact, they got excited, too excited”

“In the two minutes it took me to change out of my clothes, they had y/n sandwiched between them on the couch as they brought out all these scrapbooks with a bunch of embarrassing pictures from when I was younger. I honestly didn’t even know they had those pictures!” Sakusa shudders as he recalls the horror he felt when he emerged from his room just to find you giggling along with his parents at a photo album that was foreign to him.

When he finally looked over your shoulder and saw the photo you were stuck on, he all but stopped breathing. There he was, four year old Kiyoomi with a red tear stained face and snot dripping from his nose as he tried his best to not tremble next to the giant creepy mouse animatronic. He never has been a fan of Chuck E. Cheese's.

“That’s rough dude” Komori laughs, earning another glare from the red tinted Sakusa. "I remember that birthday too. Those animals had you messed up"

“Whatever, Afterwards, we finally took the train back to the café I had planned from the beginning. It’s just my luck that as we’re walking there, it starts to rain really hard”

“You just can’t seem to catch a break huh”

“You have no idea” Sakusa sighs out.

“We start running to the café and in the process they grab onto my hand. Except I’m pretty sure my hands were sweaty from being around them. So I tried taking my hand away but then they looked so offended when I did that that I had to suck it up and hold their hand again. Sweat and all”

“Wait, wait, wait” Komori sits up from his previously lax position. “So not only is the great Sakusa Kiyoomi nervous about something, or rather someone, but the germaphobe also holds hands with someone before they have a chance to wash it? You really are whipped for them”

“Whatever, it was just in the heat of the moment” he says, his ear growing hot.

“When we finally get to the café, everything seems back on track. You remember plan a, bullet point three, green section? Where I was going to ask them whether they wanted to, y’know, come to our next game? Well just my fucking luck because as I was asking them, one of their old childhood friends sees them and decided they want to catch up. At that moment, at our table.

Sakusa had just returned back to the table where he had left Y/n alone as he went to pick up their drinks and pastries. Kiyoomi was finally feeling a sense of relief, partly due to being back on track but also because he was going to drink his latte and hopefully warm up from the still pelting rain. His head was already running through possible ways to ask y/n out to their game the following weekend. That is until his bubble burst when he saw some strange person sitting in his spot, talking y/n’s ear off as they just politely nod along. The stranger doesn't seem to catch onto the apologetic tone y/n uses when introducing the two guys to each other.

“y/n is too polite to say anything to this random stranger who probably doesn’t wash their hands thoroughly, so he sits with us for the rest of the date. And no, I'm not exaggerating” the frustrated ace rolls his eyes.

Some deity must have been looking out for Sakusa and graced him with patience he’s never had before. Sakusa managed to sit through the entire hour-long discussion between y/n and their old friend, who Saksua later found out that they were never very close to even in their childhood. This only silently enraged him more.

Once the rain cleared up and the date crasher left, Sakusa checked his phone to see how much longer they had together, only to realize that it was time for Y/n to head back home. He does his best to not sound disappointed when he vocalizes this observation, but he was not the thespian he believed to be. Y/n caught on to his mood change and slid their fingers through slightly sweaty ones. They follow up by asking him if he could walk them back home, to which he agrees but with a slight pout on his lips. Not that he didn't want to walk you home, but more so that he spent the majority of the date dealing with his mistakes and not really getting to be with you alone. Nevertheless, Sakusa lightly squeezes their interlaced hand before beginning the trek back to their house. The two finally manage to enjoy each other's company as they breath in the post-rain air and overlook the sun that was setting over the horizon. The sky is painted in beautiful shades of orange and purple that will forever remind Sakusa of you; too perfect to ever be replicated in all its vibrant shades and hues. Unbeknownst to each other, y/n was enjoying every moment with him. They take the long way home while Sakusa purposely slowed down his usually fast walking pace, both trying to relish in every moment together.

“Did you two kiss

“N-no. I mean, it was barely our first date and even if I was thinking about i-it, their brother opens the door before I could even try to”. The ace rested his head on the palm of his hand and looks out the window in disappointment.

The moment was there, when they finally arrived at y/n’s front door. The neighborhood silent, the wind lightly breezing through as the moon illuminated the two lovers in a way a street lamp could never. Eyes twinkling for each other and each other only as their hands remained interlocked.

"I really had fun today Sakusa, thank you. This walk was really nice too, I don't think I'll ever be able to not think about you whenever I walk down this path again" they smile a smile to beautiful that Sakusa almost forgot to respond. For a minute there, he forgot he was speaking to another person, and not a painting from the romanticism era.

"well maybe I'll just have to be here whenever you take this path again. so you don't have to miss me" he softly says, zipping up their jacket as a cool breeze rushes by them.

"Maybe you're right. This will jut have to be our journey and our journey only" In that moment, gravity seemed to work in Sakusa’s favor as it drew in their faces close. Right as their eyes were fluttering shut and their lips were mere millimeters from another, the front door swung open with aggression as y/n's older brother loudly announced it was now the end of their date.

“So you mean to tell me that after all you went through in that single day, you still didn’t get a kiss from them? Not even on the cheek?!” Sakusa solemnly shakes his head while Komori groans loudly, receiving side glances from the other students that were beginning to file in for class.

“Damn. That really is a bad date. Maybe you should go back to laying your head down” Komori sympathetically suggests. If he went through a date as traumatizing as that, he doesn’t even think he’d be able to show up to school the next day. In his eyes, Sakusa Kiyoomi was a brave man.

“I think I will, wake me up if there’s anything important-”

“Uh good morning Kiyoomi-kun!!” as if he were being risen from the dead, the curly haired spiker eyes light up as he raises his head and turns to the source of the angelic voice; you.

“G-good morning, y/n-san”

“Hi y/n!” Komori interjects.

“Hey Komori. Uh Omi-kun, can I have a moment real quick with you?”

“Sure” he says, his chair making a scraping noise as he stands up and follows his crush out to the nearly empty hallway.

“I’m gonna make this quick since class is about to start but-” and with no other words, y/n pulls down sakusa’s mask and presses their lips onto his. If it weren’t for the fact that he was caught off guard, he would’ve deepened the kiss by holding their face with both his hands. Or maybe by resting one at the nape of their neck. Perhaps a a hand on their waist? Anything for this moment to last longer.

“I had a lot of fun yesterday” they say, slightly out of breath after parting from Sakusa’s lips. “I know it didn’t go all to plan, and I’m sorry about the rain. And my old friend. And then my brother. But I really did have a lot of fun!”

“You don’t have to lie to me y/n. It was a bad first date”

“What? No, no, no, I had a lot of fun! Why would you say that? ” they ask with slight hurt in their voice

“Because I was late, and then we had to go back and fourth and god, my parents! Those pictures were so embarrassing, please do me a favor and forget all about them. Plus the rain and then we ran out of time and just, I'm sorry” he lets out.

y/n says nothing as they grab both his hands and hold them together in their grasp. They rub gentle circles over his knuckles before starting up again

“Well, I don’t typically meet the parents on the first date but it was still cute so I will never forget those pictures. And even though we were all over the place, I didn’t mind at all. Because I enjoy being with you, Kiyoomi. Even if it’s the most boring task on the earth, I don’t mind doing it as long as I’m with you”

Sakusa stands there at a loss for words while the two of you stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever, but in reality was just a few seconds. The bell can be heard chiming in the distance, signaling that class was about to start for the day but neither of you budge.

“Well, I gotta go. Don’t want to be late to class, but I’ll see you later?” y/n finally breaks the pause after seeing the doubt that was swirling in his eyes disappear.

“Y-yeah” Sakusa agrees as Y/n dreadfully lets go of his much larger hands. Just as they turn around and make their way to their homeroom, Sakusa feels the same rush of adrenaline he does whenever he spikes a winning ball.

“y/n!” he calls out and right as you turn around, he is now the one to capture your lips in a surprise kiss. It lasts maybe a moment or two but in those seconds, Sakusa memorizes the feeling of your lips and has it ingrained into his brain. If he could, he would spend the rest of the day kissing you.

“This Friday, I have a game. Think you can make it?” he boldly asks, ignoring the second warning bell.

“O-of course. I’ll be there! And I promise this time without childhood friends or protective older brothers”

“Good '' Sakusa smiles just as Komori violently opens the door to rush Sakusa in before the teacher arrives. He reluctantly steps away from you as you offer him one last smile before the door gets slammed shut and the day begins.

[ellewords]

coffee conversations

summary : your roommate has a habit of coming home late from work. you have a habit of staying up late to finish yours.

word count : ~1.6k

fic notes : kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader, fluff, roommates au, lowercase intended

from elle ! this ended up being longer than i originally planned. it was supposed to be just a drabble then it ended up spiralling into whatever this is ;-; regardless, i had a lot of fun writing it bec my kuroo brainrot is pretty strong now sigh anyways, thank you for reading and i hope you have a lovely day ! <3

midnight.

it’s when the darkness finally settles in, but the city’s just bound to come alive; especially on a friday night, or was it saturday morning? but did that really matter? kuroo leans his head on the window, the cab ride home has always been a scenic root. multicolored lights from the buildings and billboards reflecting on his skin, the several bodies that crowded the sidewalks as they trudged their way to the nearest bar. if he asked the driver to turn down the radio, if he listened hard enough, he could hear the dull thumping of bass from each flashy establishment they passed. and he supposes he could be one of those people, an arm lazily slung around a stranger, ordering them their next drink, dancing with them until sweat covered every inch of their bare skin. he could be, and it wasn’t too long ago that he was. but recently, he’s found a reason to head straight home.    

kuroo knows exactly what he’s about to come home to, maybe that’s what excited him so much. why he nervously taps his foot on the tiled floors of the reception area, wondering if the elevator doors could open any quicker. why he speed walks his way along the carpeted hallways, the soles of his shoes barely making a sound as he made sure to keep his steps as light as possible. why his hands shake as he turns the key, opening the front door as quickly as his heart beats. all of that because he knows it’s you waiting for him.

you’re seated upright along the length of the sofa, typing away at your laptop. face illuminated by the screen’s glare, and he lets out a quiet tsk; he’s reminded you more times than he can count to turn down the brightness, you nod but never listen. your brows are furrowed and there’s a tiny crinkle in the space between them, kuroo wonders what it would be like to press a kiss right there. he shakes the thought away immediately, knowing that it would only do more harm than good to let his mind wander away like that. he watches the way your fingers move from one key to another, fast and precise, not leaving any room to breathe. you never notice when he comes home, gaze travelling from one end of the word document to the other, making sure each word is in its rightful place. kuroo knows you don’t really wait up for him, you’re just trying your best to finish the mountain of paperwork your boss had so graciously left you to do over the weekend. but for a brief moment, he lets his heart believe that you do. only for a little bit, never too long.

he has to cough to get your attention. it doesn’t get your attention the first time, having to cough maybe thrice before you remove the earphones that blasted at full volume. 

“i see you’re home from work.” you comment, already making a move to stand from the couch. but not before stretching your arms upwards; you had been sitting there typing for way too long.

kuroo smirks, stepping aside as you stood and made your way over to the kitchen. eyes glancing at the stack of paperwork you left on the coffee table, “and i see that you still haven’t escaped yours.”

“i know. how unfortunate. the usual?” you frown, placing your laptop on the kitchen counter.

he places his work bag on the couch, taking off his coat and loosening his tie, “do you even have to ask?” 

it’s like clockwork at this point. he sits on one of stools by the counter, elbows on the countertop and hands on his chin, watching you work. his eyes follow you around, mesmerized even by the simplest things: from the way you measured the coffee grounds to simply putting the coffee pot on the stove to brew. 

“why can’t we be normal and just have breakfast together or something?” you sigh, crossing your arms and leaning your body against the wall, finally making eye contact with kuroo — unaware of the fact that he had been watching you the entire time. 

he chuckles, there’s a light amusement that flashes across his features, “because i’m still asleep by the time you need to leave for work.”

“fair point,” you nod, closing your eyes in slight frustration as you’re reminded of all the things that you needed to accomplish by the time the sun rises. you have reports to write, presentations to prepare; wondering if any of this was even worth it. “why do i even need to work? is it not enough to lounge around the apartment all day watching tv?”

“you need to pay your half of the rent.” kuroo jokes, shaking his head. he waits for you to laugh, or at least come up with some clever retort. but you stay silent, finally opening your eyes to look at him, and he sees it. there’s tiredness, there’s stress — emotions he’s sure is evident in his own. “you alright?”

you shrug your shoulders before they return to their slumped position, gaze briefly flickering towards the coffee pot before placing them back on kuroo, “there’s nothing i can do.”

“you know you can quit, right, yn?” kuroo speaks before he thinks, eyes widening at his own question, “i don’t mind shouldering the rent for a little bit until you find something less exhausting.”

it’s your turn to laugh this time, “and have you working overtime even more? no thanks. you’re sweet though.”

sweet. kuroo notes, you think he’s sweet? heat rises to his cheeks, a faint flush coloring them in the process. never had he been more grateful for the dimness of the lights, the room just dark enough to not make it noticeable. “for your information, i work overtime because i actually like my job. and how else am i going to have these conversations with you?”

you raise a brow, he had a point there. despite sharing the same space, you and kuroo had a habit of missing each other for most of the day. you leave early in the mornings and he still hasn’t arrived by the time you get back in the afternoon.  

“didn’t expect that you look forward to these.” you smile, turning off the stove once you notice the dark liquid boiling, signalling that it was ready. the scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as you grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “which one do you want?”

you hold two different mugs towards him. one you had gotten him as a souvenir from a business trip to kyoto, the other he had gotten you while on vacation in osaka. kuroo points to the one that you had gotten him, “of course, i look forward to these. it’s the highlight of my day.”

“your days must be terribly boring then.” you comment, placing the mugs on the counter and taking a seat on the stool beside his.

“no,” he protests almost immediately, a little too sudden actually. kuroo blinks back once he’s realized that he’s startled you, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment, “i just like spending time with you.” 

a sigh leaves both of your lips at the first sip of coffee, the warmth spreading across the entirety of your bodies. it’s quiet for these few moments, where you and kuroo just sit back and take everything in. the chill in your apartment, the heat from the mugs, the distant sounds of city nightlife, the almost yellow glow of the light fixture that hung above you, the way your elbows accidentally brushed the other’s. there’s silence, but there’s a ringing in your ears that neither of you could avoid. your hearts beat uncontrollably fast. but that must be the caffeine. at least that’s what you try to convince yourself.

but kuroo liked to think that he knew himself better, that he was actually honest with himself. it isn’t the caffeine that made his heart race past midnight, when all you had to do was look at him in the way you usually do. head tilted to the side, hanging on to every word that left his lips, nodding along to whatever he ranted about, eyes travelling over his face like you were memorizing each and every feature, the corner of you lips flicked upward. it’s like looking in a mirror, he knows he looked at you like that too. and maybe, just maybe, he allows himself once more to believe that you could possibly like him back. 

“if it means anything,” you speak, cutting through the silence as you recalled the last thing he said before you took your first sips, “i like spending time with you too.”

and it does mean something to him. to kuroo, it meant the world. he’s aware that there are other ways he could be spending his time. he could be dancing it up in a club, on his seventh shot of whatever the bartender decides to hand him, arms around some stranger whose name he was going to forget when the day breaks. he could be in bed, asleep, finally letting exhaustion catch up to him as he crashed face first into the soft pillows. but no, he’s here with you. your arm accidentally grazing his every now and then, resting your head on his shoulder as you rant about the day you’ve had, or placing a hand there to steady yourself when you laugh just a little too hard at his jokes and stories, knowing that his attempts of making you feel better are slowly beginning to work. 

there’s nowhere else he’d rather be past midnight than in the kitchen of your shared apartment, complimenting you on making the best cup of coffee he’s ever had.

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[beigehearts]

The adult trio getting embarrassed- drabbles I was wondering what would make them embarrassed and I was gonna make hcs but I thought that it would be more immersive and make more sense if it was a story . Also I feel like only verbal affection and emotional affection could affect illumi and hisoka so they have fluff stories but since Chrollo is somewhat more stable- verbal and emotional affirmation doesn't get him embarrassed so his is a bit nsfw fem!reader

Illumi (fluff)

He's been gone for weeks, leaving his girlfriend behind at their quiet and lonely apartment. Illumi doesn't live with you- he lives in an absolute mansion so why would he? But he spends a lot of time with you, in your apartment. Some nights after a long day at work, you'll come home and he will be sleeping in your bed or staring out the window, waiting for you.

Though you haven't had those fun surprises lately, he's taken on a big mission and you've learned you'd rather not know what it is he doing so you don't ask. It's getting quite lonely and your job as a secretary hasn't been letting up. Your boss just got a big contract so work has been hectic.

You push the door closed behind you with your foot, dropping your bag at the door and groaning. What a day, your fingers hurt after typing non stop today. There's no time to make dinner, there's no time to get dressed in pajamas, there's no time when you have the dire need to sleep. As you walk towards the bedroom, you kick off your shoes, shed your shirt and skirt. Once you reach the bedroom you see the line of clothes leading to you, but you don't really care at the moment. You throw the pins from your hair into the darkness of the room.

That beautiful bed is only steps away, the oasis from the desert you've been navigating all day. You crawl into the bed, eyes closing before you even get under the covers, but once you are you wonder if heaven is real and if it's your bed. Your eyes shut with a mind of their own, and only seconds later you're dragged into the dark depths of your mind.

It must have been hours, it's still dark out so not too long though. You force your eyes open as if there are weights holding them down. You immediately recognize the unusual warmth around you and a smile pulls at your lips.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home today?" You ask sleepily.

He kisses your forehead, "I didn't think about it."

You nuzzle your face into his chest, and he holds you closer. "You know, I missed you. A lot." You try to dig further into his chest but you're as close as you can be to him. "I was worried, you didn't message me the whole time you were gone. Do you know how lonely I was?"

His brows furrow though you can't see it. "You were lonely?"

You nod, "It felt like part of me was missing. I was worried I would be left empty forever. You said it would be a week and it's been eight." A sigh escapes you, "It's hard to not be around the person you love most Illumi."

It goes silent, and you look up at his face to see if he has anything to say. His face is flushed, you can even see it in the dark. It's such a contrast to his pale skin. He always acts weird when you say you love him or imply it.

Your small smile grows into a large grin, "I'll wait for you to say you love me back."

Hisoka (fluff, slightly sexual)

Classes have been difficult, you failed your big test and you practically got on your knees and begged your professor to let you retake it. You already know you're in for a long night of studying. Which means you're also in a night for a moody boyfriend. You will have to make it up to him later though, this test is too important for you to be worried about anything else.

On the way home your friend asks you to come over to help her with some problem with her laptop. You went and helped even though you really already should've been home. Your old beat up car scrapes through the coffee shop drive through at 5 pm, and you grab yourself a super caffeinated coffee to help you through the night.

The house is quiet when you get home, which is perfect, that way you'd have a little while to study without a whiny boyfriend. An hour or so later, you're sitting cross legged on your chair, leaning forward and highlighting things in your book. One leg bounces with the energy of caffeine, though half of you is ready to pass out.

The front door creaks open but you pay it no mind. You're beginning to connect ideas to one another and you can't let anything stop you. The clicking steps towards your chair are nothing but background noise at the moment. Long, muscular arms wrap around you from behind. "Pet, I had a long day, come lay with me." He whines in your ear.

You don't say anything, the squeaking of your highlighter against the paper says enough.

"I can give you a massage, I'm sure you need it." His hands roam your form but you continue doing what you need to.

While still highlighting and writing things down on a piece of a paper, you say, "Tomorrow night, I'm really busy Hisoka. I need to pass this retake tomorrow. It's important."

Obviously that isn't a good enough answer when he grabs you by your hair and pulls your head back. You know he isn't being mean, he knows you like your hair pulled and hopes it gets your attention. Obviously it does but you don't show it.

"Oh come on baby, just lay down with me for a little bit."

You pull your head forward even though he still has a tight grip on your hair. His lips wander your neck, sucking at random spots on your skin, leaving blossoming red marks.

You stand up abruptly and drag Hisoka to the couch. You push him on it and straddle him. You sigh and lean towards his face, "Hisoka Morrow- I am trying to do work."

He grins and his hands travel down your back until they end up holding your ass, and bringing you closer to him. He begins grinding up into you, and he holds down your hips. You try your best not to react and you end up groaning and grabbing his face in both hands. He pauses when you bring his face close to yours, sharing the same breath.

"Hisoka Morrow." You say in a commanding voice. "Do you know how much you mean to me? I think of you every moment and it's hard to think about anything else. The restraint it takes to not hold on to you every time I see you is immense. Can't you understand that you're controlling my every single waking moment? I will love you forever and forever is a long time so give me one night of our forever for me to study."

His eyes widen, and his lips are parted slightly in awe. And for the first time ever, you've seen him look vulnerable, a blush of his you've never seen before. Sex was one thing but all of this emotion and promise at once is so overwhelming. Butterflies flutter in your stomach and he speaks up.

"I suppose once night is okay if it's part of our forever."

Chrollo (sexual, nudity) 

It’s been a lonely few days, and Chrollo’s birthday is coming up. He has been really busy with what he calls work, and you’ve been sitting at home, working remotely since you wanted to watch over the house. You never know when you’re dating the leader of the phantom troupe, someone might try to rob you or worse.

For your lover’s birthday you want to do something special, something that’ll make him really happy. It’s hard with Chrollo because he can have anything he wants in the world, so what do you get him? He’s always appreciative of anything you give him and is very sentimental- but you always feel inadequate. What’ll make him happy that he can’t just go steal?

Two hours until he gets home. You have the cake on the table that you decorated to the best of your abilities. (He always says he prefers home cooked/baked goods to bought ones.) The entire house is lit up with nothing but candles. Each of the candles being his favorite scent, Beachwood. He always talks about how you guys need to go on a trip to the beach, and is a sucker for anything ‘beach’ scented. Chrollo is such a romantic as if it weren’t obvious so you laid out rose petals on the dining room table and around it. 

It’s already dark and kind of hard to see, but you settle yourself down on the table, sitting next to the cake. You try to find different poses you think you would look good in until you hear the jiggle of door knob. A dose of panic shoots through you. Is this too much? Is he even going to like it? What if he’s grossed out? 

The door opens and a tired Chrollo enters, closing his eyes and sighing, “What a long day.” He sniffs the air, “It smells good in here y/-” He’s cut off at the sight of you.

A beautiful figure resting on the dining room table, covered by nothing but red lingerie panties and stockings, your bare breasts exposed. His mouth is agape just from looking at you, he shuts the door behind him with his foot. He kicks his shoes off and shrugs off his jacket, leaving it on the floor as he stumbles towards you. 

He places himself between your legs and pulls you closer to him on the table. “What’s the occasion?” He asks oblivously.

You chuckle and run a hand through his slicked hair, “It’s your birthday darling.” You can barely make it out but his pale cheeks become slightly rosy in the dim light. “So are you going to stand there or what?” You ask sarcastically.

He wraps your legs around his waist and picks you up, not missing his chance to hold your ass as he carries you. Your lips meet his feverishly, and desperately, you part only to ask, “Do you like your present?”

He lays you gently on the bed with a flushed face and devious smile, “It’s perfect darling.” 

[haikyuuhoo]

Habits

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Summary: In which Akaashi has a couple of habits you find extremely endearing.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Just extremely rushed writing so this might not be great.

A/N: Have a lil fluffy Akaashi fic I wrote instead of doing my reading for class today :) My excuse is that this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away.

Akaashi had two habits you picked up on very early—before the two of you even really knew each other.

The first was that he had this cute little way he played with his fingers when he got anxious. You'd seen him do it in a number of situations: when he was waiting in line at the campus café deciding what to order, when he stood in the kitchen at the few parties you'd spotted him at, and right before he was about to give a presentation. Another thing you noticed, though, was that it was shockingly easy for him to switch it off as if nothing was bothering him. When he approached the counter, he told the barista his order as if it was the same thing he got every time. When his friends approached him at the party, he would give them a gentle smile and allow them to push a drink into his hand. When he stood in front of the class he immediately stood straight and set his shoulders back, exuding a confidence that you could only dream of having while he gave his analysis of whatever book you'd all just read for your literature class.

Akaashi Keiji was never one to express his emotions openly, always coming off as stoic or like he couldn't be bothered to really tell people what he was thinking. But you knew better.

When you leaned your chin on your palm, watching Akaashi give his presentation at the front of the lecture hall, you could tell there was more going on in that pretty head of his. Honestly, you weren't even paying attention to what he was saying. You were studying him, trying to see if there was any millisecond where he let something other than strict professionalism shine through. But you didn't see anything, and it made you frown a bit as he came to the conclusion of his presentation.

When he finished, he thanked the class and let a small smile settle on his lips. It made warmth bloom in your chest, and you couldn't help but smile in return.

Not like he noticed. You were pretty sure he didn't even know who you were.

That was your first year of college, and you honestly didn't expect to be in many—if any—more classes with Akaashi. It was just a gen ed class, after all.

In your third year, however, you were in another class with him. You’d noticed him on the first day. You remembered from your first year that he was always early to class, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when your gaze immediately found him sitting in the middle of the rows of seats as you walked in. You instantly felt your heart rate pick up, and you honestly found it to be a bit embarrassing. You made your way to a seat a few rows behind Akaashi and settled in. Did you still have a stupid crush on this guy who you’d barely spoken a word to two years later?

Yeah, you did. How could you be anything other than enamoured with Akaashi Keiji?

The class, sadly, was a lecture with over one hundred students, so aside from looking at the back of his head, you didn’t really see much of him. It made your heart sink.

The second habit Akaashi had was one you had picked up on your first year as well, but you didn’t really see it in full swing until you noticed him frequenting the library even more than you usually did.

Akaashi Keiji was an overthinker.

Sitting behind him, you could always see the bright red A’s on his papers he got back. So why did he always look so stressed whenever you saw him in the library?

On numerous occasions you’d caught him staring at his laptop screen for probably much longer than was necessary to read over whatever was in front of him. You felt a bit bad for staring, but he made you curious. When you looked a little more closely, you noticed that behind his glasses his gaze was unfocused, meaning his mind was definitely somewhere far off from the words on the screen in front of him.

You found it kind of cute, the look he would get on his face.

But you’d still never spoken to him, so there was no way you were going to tell him that.

That was, until one day in the library when you did speak to him.

You had been sitting a few tables away from Akaashi—this time you weren’t stalking him—not that you had been before!—you were here first this time, you swear! You hadn’t even noticed him!

Well, okay, that last part wasn’t true. You had arrived before Akaashi that day, fully intent on cramming for midterms, and you only noticed him when you got up to go refill your water bottle. You almost tripped over your own feet when you saw him. And maybe you did accidentally shoulder check a bookshelf.

But we don’t talk about that.

You noticed he was working on the paper for your class as you walked by, you could tell from the fact that his copy of the book you all had been assigned sat open in front of him. It had countless flags sticking out of it and was filled with highlights and scribbles in the margins. You kind of admired his dedication.

A few hours later you’d gotten yourself back in your own groove of cramming. Your headphones played music loudly into your ears in an attempt to minimize any distractions, and your gaze was fixed on your laptop. You were so in the zone that you didn’t notice someone approaching you. You didn’t even notice him say your name. It wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder that made you jump that you pulled yourself away from your work.

You pulled your headphones off just in time to hear the person beside you mumble an apology, and before your gaze raised enough to look at his face you knew who it was.

You could tell by the way he fiddled with his fingers.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Akaashi said, looking away as an embarrassed flush rose on the back of his neck.

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s okay! My music was just really loud. I didn’t hear you,” you explained with an awkward laugh, looking up at him and setting your headphones on the table. “D-Did you need something?”

You could feel your heart pounding. You’d never spoken to him before and now he was approaching you?

“Yeah, uh, you’re in my classic lit class,” he said, and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

“Yeah, I am,” you breathed, and you could feel your cheeks tingle with heat.

He cleared his throat and looked down at you. He was still playing with his fingers, which surprised you. Usually he stopped as soon as he started doing whatever was making him nervous. Why were you any different?

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to read over my paper. I’ve been working on it for hours and I think it’s making me hate it. You can say no, I know you’re probably busy with your own stuff. I just thought a fresh pair of eyes might help me.”

Your eyes widened. Not only was he in front of you looking uncharacteristically more nervous than you’d ever seen him, but now he was asking for your help?

“Sure!” you blurted, and you hoped you didn’t come across as eager as you felt.

His shoulders relaxed at that, and he smiled. “Awesome, thank you. Let me grab my stuff really quick.”

You nodded, and as you watched him retreat to his table you tried to get yourself to calm down. He was back less than a minute later, and instead of just having his laptop he had gathered all of his things. It made the heat in your cheeks spread over the rest of your face as you realized he was moving to your table to continue working.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said as he set his laptop in front of you.

“I know,” he said bluntly, settling into the seat across from you.

Your eyes widened. “Y-You do?”

He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. We had a class together a couple years ago. You gave really good presentations,” he observed.

You felt like you were going to pass out. Not only did Akaashi actually know your name, he remembered you.

“I see you around campus sometimes too,” he continued.

“O-Oh,” you breathed, pulling his laptop closer to you. “I guess it’s not weird that I know your name too, then?”

He gave you a smile that made a swarm of butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I guess not. But I can formally introduce myself if that’ll make you feel better. I’m Akaashi. Thank you for reading my paper.”

You nodded, fingers curling around the sides of his laptop. “Of course. I’ve been working for hours too, so this will be a good break.”

“I can read something of yours in return if you want,” he offered, but you shook your head immediately.

“No, it’s okay, you’ve probably got a bunch of assignments to work on,” you assured him with a smile before looking down to the screen to start reading his paper. He simply gave you a nod and pulled a textbook out of his bag, leaning his cheek against his hand as he began working on another assignment.

It only took you a few pages to realize why Akaashi consistently aced his papers. He was an incredible writer.

You looked up, fully intent on telling him as much, but you stopped when your gaze settled on him and you noticed that familiar far away look in his eyes. You smiled, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about.

Akaashi thought you were incredibly beautiful. That wasn’t a word he used often, usually reserved only for the way authors sometimes articulated things in a way that gave him goosebumps or for the way he could see the stars twinkle on clear nights.

But as soon as he’d laid his eyes on you, the word popped into his mind nearly every day. He’d watched you walk into class the first day of his first year, and he was smitten.

You looked so beautiful, even when you were doing something as simple as coming into the early morning class nursing a coffee every day. He decided he’d always come early so he could watch you walk in.

You looked beautiful when he saw you around campus, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest when he watched you laugh with your friends only solidified the thought.

You looked incredibly beautiful whenever he saw you at the parties he went to when Bokuto was finally able to drag him along. There was just something about watching you act so carefree with a smile that never seemed to leave your face all night that made him realize that you had become his definition of beautiful.

But he’d been too nervous to ever say anything to you, and when an entire year went by without the two of you having another class together, he felt a bit hopeless. He couldn’t really go up to you on campus, and the longer he waited the more awkward it was.

“Hey, you were in my literature class a year and a half ago,” wasn’t the best pickup line.

But when he saw you walk into classic lit at the beginning of this semester, he felt his heart soar. Maybe he would work up the nerve to talk to you this time.

A few minutes passed and Akaashi still hadn’t moved. A slight giggle left you that startled him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blushed when he looked at you.

“What? Did I write something stupid?” he asked meekly.

You shook your head, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out of you. “No! Your paper is incredible, actually.”

He frowned. “Then why are you laughing?”

You gave him a hesitant smile. “You do this thing…” you trailed off, wondering if it would be weird to admit that you noticed the way he would sometimes get lost in his own head.

“What thing?” he questioned, the pink on his cheeks darkening.

You bit your lip. Now it was your turn to be shy. You dropped your gaze to your lap and played with a loose thread on your sleeve. “When you get really deep in thought you get this cute little look on your face,” you whispered, not even sure if he heard it.

But he had, and his eyes widened in embarrassment. “C-Cute?” he sputtered.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Sorry, I know that’s probably weird,” you said softly.

“I think you’re cute too,” he breathed.

“You what?” you squeaked, head snapping back up so you could look at him.

He quickly looked away, but there was no hiding the way his cheeks were stained pink. “Is that too forward?” he asked softly, and he was playing with his fingers again.

Without thinking, you reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He jumped, looking back over at you and relaxing at the way you smiled at him.

“No, it’s not,” you assured him.

“Good,” he sighed, “because I actually think you’re beautiful.”

That was three years ago, and you couldn’t help but think back to it as you took in the scene in front of you.

You’d announced yourself as soon as you stepped into his house. You knew he had a big deadline today, so you wanted to surprise him with dinner. He sometimes forgot to eat when he worked late, and you wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself properly.

Plus, you’d take any excuse you could get to see your boyfriend.

“‘Kaashi, I brought food!” you called out as you closed the door. You slipped your shoes off by the door and hung your jacket up beside his on the coat rack. When you got no response, you set the bag of takeout on the kitchen table and made your way to his office.

“Keiji,” you hummed as you opened the door, peeking your head in. You still didn’t receive a response, but you saw him sitting at his desk. He wasn’t typing, however, nor was he scrolling through the pages on the screen in front of him.

You frowned. You already knew what was happening.

You walked further into the room. “Keiji,” you said again when you approached his side. He simply gave you a hum in acknowledgement. You rolled your eyes and turned his chair so he was facing you, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. A groan left you and you cupped his face in your hands, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, and his gaze focused on you for a moment before his eyes fluttered shut and he parted his knees slightly so you could stand between them.

“You’re gonna give yourself burnout if you keep spacing out like that. I know how much you overthink stuff like this,” you scolded when you pulled away.

He sighed, hands settling on your hips. “I know, it’s just, I’ve got this deadline—”

“I know you do,” you interrupted, “that’s why I’m here. I had a feeling you’d be working too hard.” You gave him a fond smile and ran a hand gently through his hair. “So I brought you dinner.”

He perked up at the mention of food and smiled up at you. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” You grinned. “Now c’mon, let’s go eat so you can give that pretty little head of yours a rest,” you teased, ruffling his hair once more before reaching for his hand and pulling him out of his chair.

He hummed and laced your fingers together as he stood up. “Sounds good,” he murmured before bringing your hand up and placing a kiss to your knuckles. “You know me so well.”

You smiled. “I’ve been told I’m quite observant.”

He chuckled and gave your hand an affirmative squeeze. “Yeah, you sure are.”

[myevilmouse]

20!!! (For the asks about writing)

Oh this is a gift of an ask, anon!! I could go on and on about these, but I’ll limit myself or else we'd be here all night ❤

I do like using references to my other fic in my fic, and here are some examples of those little easter eggs that are in my stories.  I tried to pick ones that haven’t come up much in comments or been highlighted for Trivia Tuesday.

· The Imperial uniform referenced for roleplaying funtimes in my Evilmousetober 2020 Day 3 drabble is the same one from Conduct Unbecoming.

· Mistress Cyvia, the dance instructor in The Warrior’s Dancer, is named after a famous Polish dancer and teacher, likewise the Nijin’skii Academy is named after the magnificent Nijinsky.

· Luke’s lovesick student in Containment is none other than D’tan from Fan Mail

· The Twi’lek story chain that Tionne mentions reading in Fan Mail is referencing Luke’s torrid night of passion with Sienn’rha in The Warrior’s Dancer

· In several of my fics I allude to the fact that Pryce went caving as a child and is good with knots (Unity, Imitation, Dis Manibus, probably more). Also all the knots I use in my fics are real knots. I research them and try to describe them when I find good ones 😊

And little pieces of trivia:

· Every fic I’ve written has the word “preposterous” in it—something my husband requested when I first started ficcing, and so it always makes an appearance.

· All my Luke/Mara stories start with the letter C for no reason other than the first few did by accident so I started to do it on purpose…The first one I did it with deliberately was Catalysts, I think. Likewise all the chapters in Common Thread start with a C.  Speaking of Common Thread, I fully intend to continue that little ficlet series, although it’s been a while.

· Both Interpreter Chapter 5 and all of Corporeal have a ridiculous amount of Shakespearean words from Macbeth incorporated within. I sometimes make a “cool word list” and try to write them into my stories just as a fun exercise for the author 😊 If I do my job right, you can’t tell where I’ve shoved them in…

· Speaking of Interpreter, the duplicitous Lieutenant Rees is a thinly-veiled Imperial!Luke.

· When I have Thrawn quote military proverbs, it’s always Sun Tzu.

· The ficlet I wrote to celebrate 400 Thranto works on AO3--Everything to Lose-- is exactly 400 words.

· Strangers When We Meet is named after a David Bowie song

· The artists referenced in Conflicting Aesthetics are “real” either canon/EU GFFA artists or Earth artists with only one “made up” for the story—the Chiss one.

· I invented Pono hounds and used them in multiple fics.  I also reference tabloid media SpaceStars in multiple fics as well as The Annual Stormtrooper Relief Fund Ball.  I like reusing my own inventions!

· The brown-haired short Rebel who kidnaps Seta in Conflicting Aesthetics is indeed meant to be Princess Leia

· Cary Janson in Conflicting Aesthetics is named after Cary Elwes because he’s related to Wes Janson and I think Westley=Cary

· In Finding Release, Thrawn actually did manage to get himself out of the cuffs, as evidenced by the fact he was able to change his shirt. However Pryce (and many readers, no doubt) missed that rather subtle clue. The man had a strategy and would not be swayed from his course 😈💙

· In Complementary Aesthetics, Seta unwittingly paints many iconic locations in the life of one Luke Skywalker, including his Tatooine sunset moment, Dagobah, Hoth, and Bespin. There are quite a few more hidden references in that fic but since I’m still posting it (next chapter up tomorrow) I won’t say more at the risk of spoilers!

OK i think I’ll stop there!  But feel free to click on that Trivia Tuesday link if you want more fun meta from my fics, headcanons, behind the scenes, etc.  Thank you so much anon, have a devastatingly gorgeous smile in thanks:

[wild-aloof-rebel]

Some Favorite Fics from 2020

Like last year, I want to end 2020 by highlighting some fics that have become favorites over the last twelve months. Before I dive into it though, I just want to take a minute to send some love to all of the authors writing in this fandom.

As of the end of 2019, there were about 8.8 million words of fic on AO3 for this fandom. This year, more than 450 authors have added another 15 million more. That’s so incredibly impressive, especially in a year this difficult. Thank you, thank you, thank you to every single person who contributed to that, whether you wrote one fic or a hundred, a drabble or a novel. Thank you for giving this fandom the gift of your creativity and voice. Your work is so, so appreciated, and you’ve helped to create joy in a year where it was often in short supply. 💗💗💗

*

Okay, on to the fics. I’ve limited myself to no more than one work for any individual author to spread the love around as much as possible, and I’ve bumped up the number to 25 this time around because there was just too much fic this year for me to cut it down any further. 

So here we go. These are 25 fics I loved this year, and what I love about them...

Your heart is keeping time with me by yourbuttervoicedbeau • rated E • 33k+ confession before i start: i’ve never actually seen 50 first dates. but i thought this AU based on it was delightful. patrick’s love for david is so big, right from the start, and i love seeing david lean into trusting himself (and patrick) over and over again

will this ever get old? by startswithhope • rated T • <1k i just like seeing them domestic and soft and happy, okay? and while most of dee’s fics are like that, this particular one is a fave because of them thinking about their future and how they’ll change over the years but love each other right on through

Just to Hold the Hands I Love by DesignatedGrape • rated T • 20k+ it’s like a warm christmas hug, full of musical trolling, gentle pining, domestic nights in, and careful attention to fashion details, which are all absolutely the kinds of things i appreciate

A Case of You by DoubleL27 • rated T • 6k+ patrick is an absolute menace in exactly the way you would expect every valentine’s day. it’s funny and sweet and ends with them in exactly the kind of future we all want for them

Dulce by another_Hero • rated T • 1k+ original characters can be hard to do right. they have to be compelling enough to fit in with these characters we already know so well, and dulce is the kind of character who grabs you from the start. the whole series is lovely, but this first interaction with ronnie is my favorite of them

Tea-Kettle Love by ArabellaStrange • rated G • 5k+ even though this coda to “the pitch” isn’t technically canon compliant now, it still feels a lot like it is. it’s about the sacrifices we are and aren’t willing to make for the people we love, taking the new york discussion into more depth than we get in the show and still arriving in largely the same place

Vanquished by Codswallop • rated G • 3k+ if you’re looking for soft, fluffy sickfic, this is not it, lol. patrick is sick here but won’t let anyone take care of him. he’s stubborn and basically minor chaos ensues. it’s funny and sweet but not schmaltzy. the characterization is 👌, and it feels like the kind of thing that fits perfectly into the world of the show

To Come Out the Other Side by unfolded73 • rated T • 4k+ • warning for major character death i don’t want to read sad things about david and patrick very often, but sometimes the mood strikes. this one is definitely sad right from the start, but there’s hope and resilience through grief, and i think this year especially, there’s something to be said for stories that can make you feel like there is still good to be found after the bad

Hold Me Like You’ll Never Let Me Go by moodlighting • rated T • 21k+ i never would have thought that a fic would make me WANT to be trapped in an airport, but it’s 2020 and anything is possible, lol. this is what meet cute dreams are made of

Your mother keeps a spreadsheet by upbeat • rated G • 3k+ obviously i love a good spreadsheet, so this one was up my alley from the start, lol. but really it’s moira and patrick bonding through the cataloguing of her wigs (and all the stories that go with them) that makes this one an easy favorite

keep me in the pulses, keep me in the sound by dinnfameron • rated G • 2k+ this sweet little slice of a summer vacation made me ache to be with friends. plus, sometimes you just need some overwhelmingly happy david rose. he deserves it, and so do we

eggs and the flour, no higher power by withkissesfour • rated T • 1k+ i’m pretty sure this fic is the definition of sweet, in more ways than one. it’s a short piece, but the writing is lush and indulgent in all the right places, just like the cakes being described

sustineo by rockinhamburger • rated E • 10k+ before i was even done reading this fic, i wanted another 50k words set in this universe. the conversation between david and patrick is sharp in all the right ways, and because this david has such a hard shell to crack after being hurt in such a horrible and heartbreaking way, it’s that much more satisfying watching patrick break through it

All-Natural Care, Locally Sourced by Siria • rated T • 2k+ siria’s fics are always funny, with banter that’s so perfectly on point, and that’s certainly true here. but there are also care packages and photos and just so much love. it’s a perfect balance, just like the show

hold on to me as you go by helvetica_upstart • rated T • 3k+ i love a good look at just how long patrick has been head over heels in love with david and how much he was in this for life all along. this fic does just that through the framework of times that they saw their new house before they bought it, and it’s everything that you would want that concept to be and more

Exposed Brick by swat117 • rated M • 9k+ this is such a lovely look at david and patrick a few years into their marriage, steady in all the right ways, even when old fears try to rise up between them. it gives david a chance to be the solid and supportive one in the relationship, something i never get tired of reading

We Could Turn the World to Gold by middyblue • rated T • 27k+ as someone who also did c25k at one point, i def empathize with david’s plight in this fic, lol. as much fun as that part of the story is, it’s really the house and everything related to that part of the story that makes this a favorite in my book. this was posted very early in s6, so it’s not the house from canon, but it’s beautiful either way to see them so excited about building their future together there

Waiting on the Day by High-Seas-Swan • rated E • 22k+ this is another fic that makes me absolutely ache for things i couldn’t have this year, namely my favorite local brewery and all the nights spent there with friends. beyond that, it’s just a very sweet AU, and the scene with their first kiss and the rest of that night live in my head rent free

Pot o’ Gold by ahurston • rated E • 22k+ where is the leprechaun/love of my life who’s gonna take me out to eat all of the best foods that my city has to offer? this one is a slow burn but their relationship is so much fun to read right from the start that you definitely don’t mind taking your time getting there. also, the palm reading scene. good grief.

there is no design by the_hodag • rated T • 12k+ this fic gives us a look at some of david’s art, and all the loneliness and love that inspires it. it’s poignant and painful and hopeful and sweet in turn, and i think it does a marvelous job of capturing so many of the facets of david’s past that have made him who he is

A Little Broken, A Little New by nameless_bliss • rated G • 3k+ i’ve read this fic several times now, and david and johnny having a conversation about their own relationship through the guise of talking about patrick and his parents never fails to make me cry

Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie by cromarty • rated T • 23k+ just the concept of this one alone would have sold me on it—like, hello? michelin reviewer and chef? sign me the fuck up—but it’s written with the kind of attention to detail i always expect from claire’s writing, and the fact that it practically starts with a first kiss but then pulls back makes for a delicious dynamic as they build a friendship over that foundational attraction, both tempering and intensifying the wait for them to find their way back into each others’ arms

happy golden days of yore by blueink3 • rated E • 17k+ i literally stopped in the middle of this fic, sat down on my kitchen floor, and had a good cry. i hate thinking about them ending up divorced in the first place, but even as exes, they’re so careful and gentle with one another and so, so clearly still in a forever kind of love. that makes it bearable to see them apart because even if it weren’t tagged for a happy ending, there’s such a feeling of inevitability to it, you know exactly how it’s going to end and just get to enjoy the devastating ride it takes to get there

Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman • rated M • 30k+ this is one of those fics where everything comes together just right and achieves a perfect balance of introspection and action, courage and fear, despair and hope, forthright honesty and cautious reservation... MoreHuman makes it all look easy, which says so much about all the care that had to have gone into the planning and writing. this fic does everything well, and it’s an absolute pleasure to read from start to end

840 Havenwood Road E by Distractivate • rated E • 10k+ we barely see david and patrick’s new house in the show, so it shouldn’t be possible for me to be as emotional about it as this fic makes me, every single time i read it. but it’s the home they chose, the place they decided to build a life together, and getting to see flashes of that life through the years and how much love they clearly had for each other within those four walls just makes me cry again and again

[ppersonna]

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.  

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 

mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 

You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  

You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 

SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile. 

He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  

“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”  

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  

You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.