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#and that he is the colour green (presented without comment)

slytherinshua · 5 months

Text

MATCHING DINOSAURS

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. pairing. anton x fem!reader. wc. 1k. a/n. @eternalgyu here's ur anton delusions <3

“I have a present for you!” You said excitedly, pushing Anton’s back towards your bedroom.

“What is it? Should I be scared?” He looked back at you, bewildered, but still allowed you to drag him towards the bedroom door.

“Why would you be scared? It’s cute, I promise.” You reassured him, pulling out a gift box from the closet and setting it on the bed. Anton sat down beside you, peering curiously at the medium sized blue wrapped box.

“It’s not even my birthday…” He mumbled with a laugh, picking up the box.

“Just open it!” You urged him, getting impatient to see his reaction to the cute present you had picked out at the store earlier.

Anton was soft and pure, so warm and gentle to everyone and everything that he didn’t even know how to raise his voice. He probably couldn’t even hurt an ant. Knowing this, you should’ve predicted that he would be the type to unwrap the present slowly and carefully to make sure the wrapping paper didn’t rip. He picked at the tape that was holding the paper together carefully until it separated from the box.

It was a little endearing to watch, but also tested your patience even further. You were so excited to see his reaction and to see him use the present that you could barely think of anything else. But one of the things that had improved once you had started dating Anton was your patience, so you sat and waited as he unwrapped the present at his own pace.

“You’re making me nervous by staring so hard.” He laughed shyly, his cheeks flushed as he finally slid the wrapping paper off the box, successfully saving its form without ripping it so it could be reused on another occasion.

“I can’t miss your reaction.” You muttered, leaning even closer to stare even harder which caused both of you to giggle.

The anticipation in the room was probably absurdly high for the occasion, but something about this little gift that you had gotten for him on a whim was exhilarating for both of you. You may have just been in your crappy small apartment, the lights dimmed to save electricity and the space running a little colder to save on the heating bill, but it still felt like it was one of the most precious moments of your life.

Your boyfriend slid off the lid of the box, revealing the contents of it. His face broke out into a huge smile once he saw what it was, quickly turning to face you again with his excitement. You smiled satisfactorily. This was the reaction you had been anticipating all day.

Anton picked up the set of pyjamas from the box, still admiring them carefully. They were a light green colour with a cute print of brachiosauruses all over in a darker green. When you saw them in the store, you immediately had to buy them for him. There was no way you would be able to leave them hanging on the rack.

“Guess what else?” You prompted. Anton turned to you, humming curiously in response, still holding his pair of pyjamas in his hands.

You pulled out another pair of pyjamas from your dresser drawer and held them up. These ones matched Anton’s, but were pink with triceratopses instead. You grinned and he giggled.

“They’re cute.” He commented, blushing at the thought of matching with you.

Once you were both changed into the comfy new pyjama sets, you settled down to watch a movie which had been your original plan for this evening. Cuddled next to Anton would always be your favourite place to be, tucked comfortably under his arm. He rested his head on top of yours. Your eyes were stuck on the movie screen while his eyes were closed, enjoying the pleasant scent of your hair.

“Did you get new shampoo?” He asked in a whisper, catching your attention enough for you to look up at him.

“Yeah. Is it good?” You smiled up at him, your eyes crinkling slightly— the sight made Anton’s chest feel warm.

“Smells like grapefruit.” He noted, breathing in the scent again, smiling against your hair, his nose buried in it. The feeling made a million butterflies start to dance in your stomach.

You both focused back on the movie, watching mostly in silence, though sometimes you or Anton would let out soft giggles at something funny in the movie. Time went by quickly and before you knew it the end credits were rolling on the screen. Anton reached over to grab the remote and turn off the screen while you just snuggled deeper into the soft blankets you both were under.

There was a bit of a shift as you both got comfortable and ready for sleeping. You liked to fall asleep in a position that was still close and cuddled up to Anton, but at a distance where you could still look at him for your last whispered conversation before finally falling to the depths of your dreamland.

Anton smiled at you, cheek squished adorably against the pillow, his left hand resting against your waist and tracing the small pink triceratops on the fabric of your pyjama pants.

“Thank you for the present, lovely.”

“They were too cute not to get.” You grinned, eyes closing as tiredness swelled through your body. You loved falling asleep next to Anton, and you could feel the drowsiness taking over quickly.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.” Anton whined softly. You forced your eyes open to catch his pout before they fell shut again.

“Why? I’m tired.” You mumbled.

“You haven’t given me a goodnight kiss yet.”

You laughed softly at his response, “Come get your goodnight kiss then.”

It didn’t take long for Anton to take you up on your offer, giving you just a small gentle kiss on the lips before settling back down on his pillow.

“I love you.” You whispered to him, teetering on the edge of awakeness and slumber. You fell asleep before you could hear him say it back to you, but those 3 words followed you into your dreams for the night, bringing warmth to your chest and the perfect familiar comfort that was always an effect of Anton.

↳ riize taglist: open!

#﹒fics　 𓈃　ⵌ #k-labels #anton #anton lee #riize #riize anton #riize anton lee #lee chanyoung #riize lee chanyoung #riize chanyoung #riize fic #riize fluff #riize fanfic #anton fluff #anton fic #anton fanfic #anton x reader #riize x reader #riize anton x reader

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kataraslove · 8 months

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What the fuck is bro going on about??? Especially the Kya and Izumi like huh??

I won’t comment on the two hour dissertation because I haven’t watched it yet. from what I’ve heard on those that have, half of it is proving why the canon ships are poorly written, while the other half of it is proving why zuko and katara would be the better endgame option.

i will comment on the fact that it would be very easy to create an even longer dissertation on why people ship kataang and why it makes complete sense as the canon ship of avatar, without so much as even bringing zutara in the mix. if i ever get the time to do so, i could look into creating it. because i think there should be more discussion in fandom on the depths of katara and aang’s arcs and relationship. if anyone is interested in helping, please let me know :)

“aesthetic coordination and color synergy is the most important part of any relationship.” i do hope this person is speaking solely in terms of fiction. because how aesthetic two people look beside each other should not be the basis for any healthy, long-lasting relationship, at least not in real life. reality continues to show that two people can look incredibly good beside each other, but can be extremely incompatible.

example: celebrities coordinate their red carpet looks to present as a power couple each year. but in actuality, their relationship deteriorates by the second. in a couple of years, that relationship will no longer cease to exist.

i searched up aesthetic coordination and i couldn’t find a single resource on it. but on the topic of colour synergy, here are the colours that are established as complementaries to one another:

so you mean to tell me that red and blue aren’t complementary colours, but instead red is complementary with green, and blue is complementary with orange/yellow?

interesting. now which couple do we know of that wears orange/yellow and purple/blue in avatar?

oh. that explains why katara and aang’s colour palettes go so well together, and why their scenes (in both the show and the comics) and accompanying fanart are always so visually pleasant.

in regards to oma and shu, they are colour-coded as zuko and katara, just like they are also colour-coded as katara and aang. if we are meant to take the colours seriously, that would imply that oma (the girl) is zuko, and shu (the boy) is katara. if the writers truly wanted zuko and katara to represent omashu, i see absolutely no reason as to why oma couldn’t be depicted in blue and shu couldn’t be depicted in red.

we have confirmation by the writer of the cave of two lovers that the legend of omashu is based off of romeo and juliet. we also have confirmation from the same writer (who also advocated for zutara as the endgame ship, by the way) that the legend of omashu was written to push katara and aang’s love story after direction from mike dimartino and aaron ehasz. the first draft of the story proposed by the writer joshua hamilton was just going to be sokka and a bunch of the nomads. we also have confirmation that avatar’s love (katara and aang’s theme) played while katara was recounting the story of oma and shu.

i truly believe that if oma and shu were meant to be about zuko and katara, joshua hamilton would have no problem stating that it was. instead, he confirms that it was meant to be written with katara and aang in mind, as a part of katara and aang’s love story.

also, zuko and katara aren’t forbidden lovers. they started off as enemies, with the fire nation committing ethnic and cultural genocide against the southern water tribe. the fire nation and the southern water tribe aren’t two fighting sides of an equal battle - it’s one larger nation with all the militaristic power in the world committing colonialism and imperialism on another nation.

katara and aang could not canonically be together because of the war. that is what katara states herself. as soon as the war is over, they are free to pursue a relationship with one another. that aligns itself more with omashu’s story than zuko and katara’s arc from enemies to friends does.

katara being a phenomenal firelady is not canon, just this person’s headcanon. firelady holds no political power in canon. it’s just wife to the firelord. kya and izumi are clearly not twins, but i suspect this is part of the “katara secretly cheated on aang with zuko” set of headcanons.

lastly, zuko is the father that stepped up? yeah, okay. let’s assume that aang is this horrible, awful dad that people make him out to be. that would mean that zuko was complicit in allowing his best friend to traumatize his children for life. kya and bumi hold no relationship with zuko whatsoever. but sure, he’s definitely the father that stepped up.

finally, father and secret lover of the year zuko did next to nothing in ensuring katara canonically received her worth and recognition among the world, even after her actual husband’s passing. isn’t zuko also co-founder of republic city? so where is katara’s statue?

what you have sent me is someone speaking an entire different language, about an entire different character that they created. but headcanons are not canon, no matter how much this person wants them to be.

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doiefics · 10 months

Text

no regrets

pairing: jihoon x gn!reader

prologue: when you finally open up your heart, jihoon has a logic. perhaps things can be made better at a ghosted book store.

genre: fluff + friends to lovers

wordcount: 897

warnings: slight age difference even though both are adults

"No! That's mine!" You whined at the older male as he teased you by threatening to devour the chocolate bar in his hands.

"Maybe it was." He commented, emphasising on the past tense.

"If you don't give it to me I won't think twice before ruining your white shirt with this weird mix of yellow, blue and green paint. It's acrylic." You warned him with an evil smirk.

"Will you?" He teased you again.

You inched your paintbrush's tip dangerously close to his clothing, and Jihoon's eyebrows started to furrow in response.

"There you go, all right." He gave in right away.

He offered you a bite since your hands were preoccupied with the colours in front of you.

"Don't drop it, they are gonna charge you for the amends." He warned you in a whisper. Perhaps painting at a bookstore was a bad idea.

"Nobody is listening, there's no one here." You spoke casually.

The atmosphere was filled with the smell of old paper and wood emanating from the dozen shelves that were arranged all around you. Jihoon leaned against one of them, using it to support his back while you sat next to him. The owner of the place wouldn't mind you two being there when no one else was here either, you were never the type to draw on books.

You had known Jihoon ever since you were a toddler, he was your neighbour's son. Even though he was four years older than you, you both enjoyed great chemistry.

The differences in preferences, from conversation topics to lifestyle choices, were noticeable in the younger years but given the present time they were more or less similar, you both were now adults, after all.

Jihoon's attention from his book was diverted at the sight of you struggling to keep your hair in place.

"Did you shampoo your hair today?" He mocked again but his laughter was quickly brought to an end as you raised the brush again.

"Which book are you reading?" You leaned your head to the side to have a better look as you peered into the pages.

"Something your dumb brain wouldn't understand." He spoke, without lifting his eyes from the words that were tying down all his interest.

"Tskk!" You voiced as your hair flicks slid through and in front of your eyes, again, caused by the motion of the head

Jihoon closed his book, tipped his body in your direction, and reached out to tuck your hair back in place.

His face was close, albeit not too close or too far away, giving you a view of his face. In a snap of a moment, you felt different, even though on the inside you knew you had been suppressing what you felt for him.

Ever since you came of age, Jihoon seemed more than just a friend.

As he fixed your hair, you poked the heart-shaped mole on his cheek. He made eye contact with you and grinned in response to your action.

Maybe this was the right time.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his soft, pink ones. It was only a peck. The two of you paused for a brief second, not moving. You softly slammed your lips to his again, this time the contact lasted longer, the lips started to move in sync with each other, eyes closed and an odd surge of hormones was coursing through your body.

Jihoon abruptly pulled back as he shook his head. "No!" He breathed, his eyes never meeting yours. "This is not right, Y/N. You’re younger than me." He reasoned.

"I'm an adult. I know what I am doing." You protested back.

"I'm four years older than you!" His voice held emotions.

You backed off, showing him a subtle yet apologetic smile. "If you think that's right."

Jihoon was buried in thought, so he remained silent for the next few minutes, increasing your tension. Would this act end all of your past dynamics? For some reason, however, your gut held no regrets.

The hands of the clock moved to indicate the passing of more time. Silence still prevailed, and you joined Jihoon in staring into a blank space.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked.

"About us." He said.

"Huh?" You gained back your focus.

"This is so wrong." He repeated.

"I'm sorry. let's just forget it happened-"

He cut you off. "I can't convince my heart." He confessed.

"I like you Y/N, but I can't help but think of how wrong it would be."

"Why would it be wrong?" You questioned again, proceeding to give him a reason by yourself. "We are both adults, and what's wrong with loving each other? It's not a crime." You explained.

"The age difference. What if you regret being with me after some years?" Jihoon was very emotional yet serious about this.

"Then I'll have to call you grandpa for the rest of our lives." You said playfully, taking his hand in yours.

"No regrets." You promised.

"No regrets." He repeated as he opened his arms, and heart for you.

You wasted no time in falling into his embrace, without taking notice of one thing. The paint.

"This was my favourite shirt!" He whined, again.

"Oops." You pouted.

Jihoon took the brush away from your hand, using it to make a heart shape on your cheek, making you both blush like idiots.

masterlist please refrain from plagiarising, translating or posting outside of this platform

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theficblog · 1 year

Text

NO REGRETS

PARK JIHOON

Prologue: When you finally open up your heart, Jihoon has a logic. Perhaps things can be made better at a ghosted book store.

Genre: Fluff + Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 888

Warnings: Slight age difference even though both are adults

"No! That's mine!" You whined at the older male as he teased you by threatening to devour the chocolate bar in his hands.

"Maybe it was." He commented.

"If you don't give it to me I won't think twice before ruining your white shirt with this weird mix of yellow, blue and green paint. It's acrylic." You warned him with an evil smirk.

"Will you?" He teased you again.

You inched your paintbrush's tip dangerously close to his clothing, and Jihoon's eyebrows started to furrow in response.

"There you go, all right." He gave in right away.

He offered you a bite since your hands were preoccupied with the colours in front of you.

"Don't drop it, they are gonna charge you for the amends." He warned you in a whisper. Perhaps painting at a bookstore was a bad idea.

"Nobody is listening, there's no one here." You spoke casually.

You had known Jihoon ever since you were a toddler, he was your neighbour's son. Even though he was four years older than you, you both enjoyed great chemistry. The differences in preferences, from conversation topics to lifestyle choices, were noticeable in the younger years but given the present time they were more or less similar, you both were now adults, after all.

Jihoon's attention from his book was diverted at the sight of you struggling to keep your hair in place.

"Did you shampoo your hair today?" He mocked again but his laughter was quickly brought to an end as you raised the brush again.

"Which book are you reading?" You leaned your head to the side to have a better look as you peered into the pages.

"Something your dumb brain wouldn't understand." He spoke, without lifting his eyes from the words that were tying down all his interest.

"Tskk!" You voiced as your hair flicks slid through and in front of your eyes, again, caused by the motion of the head

Jihoon closed his book, tipped his body in your direction, and reached out to tuck your hair back in place.

As he fixed your hair, you poked the heart-shaped mole on his cheek. He made eye contact with you and grinned in response to your action.

Maybe this was the right time.

Jihoon abruptly pulled back as he shook his head. "No!" He breathed, his eyes never meeting yours. "This is not right, Y/N. You’re younger than me." He reasoned.

"I'm an adult. I know what I am doing." You protested back.

"I'm four years older than you!" His voice held emotions.

You backed off, showing him a subtle yet apologetic smile. "If you think that's right."

Jihoon was buried in thought, so he remained silent for several minutes, increasing your tension. Would this act end all of your past dynamics? For some reason, however, your gut held no regrets.

The hands of the clock moved to indicate the passing of more time. Silence still prevailed, and you joined Jihoon in staring into a blank space.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked.

"About us." He said.

"Huh?" You gained back your focus.

"This is so wrong." He repeated.

"I'm sorry. let's just forget it happened-"

He cut you off. "I can't convince my heart." He confessed.

"I like you Y/N, but I can't help but think of how wrong it would be."

"Why would it be wrong?" You questioned again, proceeding to give him a reason by yourself. "We are both adults, and what's wrong with loving each other? It's not a crime." You explained.

"The age difference. What if you regret being with me after some years?" Jihoon was very emotional yet serious about this.

"Then I'll have to call you grandpa for the rest of our lives." You said playfully, taking his hand in yours.

"No regrets." You promised.

"No regrets." He repeated as he opened his arms, and heart for you.

You wasted no time in falling into his embrace, without taking notice of one thing. The paint.

"This was my favourite shirt!" He whined, again.

"Oops." You pouted.

Jihoon took the brush away from your hand, using it to make a heart on your cheek, making you both blush like idiots.

LET ME KNOW YOUR VIEWS + ALSO SEE : MASTERLIST

PLEASE REFRAIN FROM PLAGIARIZING ,TRANSLATING, OR POSTING OUTSIDE THIS PLATFORM.

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apophis-ignotus · 1 year

Text

[entry no. 2]

I was given a data cache by an old Generation 083 Archivist, an early model that specialized in preserving the visual arts of humans. The conversation that led to that exchange was interesting on its own. We noted the serendipity that my work will eventually be the job of Archivists to care for in perpetuity. I wonder what generation they will be when I have finished.

There is a description for a work among these files:

Magritte's self⑇[ ]portrait shows him standing in front of low standing wall, in the background behind him disapᐙears[disappears] a hazy sea with clouds overhead. me[He] wears an overcoat and bowler hat of identical grey colors⟟["colours" or "," (spelling changed depending on culture, origin of file unknown)] contrasted⚶[ ]sharply by a bright red tie. Yet, the most prⲾminent[prominent] object is a green apple which2[ ]hovers, unsuppor𐓺ed[unsupported], in the air and obscures the man's face. Magritte commented "everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see. There is an interest in that which is hidden and which the visible does not show us. This interest can take the form of a quite intense feeling, a sort of conflict, one might say, between the visible that is hidden and the visible that is present."

I was inspired to chronicle how we have progressed compared to those long ago times. The remark on being teased by what can be seen because its nature obstructs something else, which itself could be seen, but isn't: it is one archaic human sentiment which we are not able to relate to in the posthumanism era. Our senses are far more encompassing than those the human body had. Through the millennia we have attached new sensors and probes to our chassis which gives us an intuitive sense for each one's function. Our optical sensors find points of reflection in the materials' crystal lattices and we, without effort, compile them together to see the entire dimensional space of our surroundings. Already, this would break the concept of frustration this Magritte was trying to instill but I will expand further. We see ores and caverns through the earth, or anything to be precise, by firing ultrasonic waves into the stone and feeling the differences in how they return to us. It is useful for mining. We feel different wavelengths of radiation pass through us and can give a count of all the particles which have ever bounced off our exteriors. Even the future cannot hide things from us, as we calculate objects' travel vectors and have an innate understanding of where they will be at any given time. If the file which contains Magritte's actual work holds metadata that includes ray-penetrative data, and if Magritte was dutiful enough to actually render the face on the other side of the apple, I would see both the apple and the face at the same time through the layers of the work all the way down to the original plain surface below. Unfortunately, it seems the works' file I was given has been corrupted after all this time and thus obscures nearly the entire work as stated by the description.”

Entry credit to my friend Providence83.

Source image “Son of Man” by Rene Margritte

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shitpostsfromtheinvisiblelibrary · 1 year

Text

Fore @withlovebinnie Vale Christmas shopping

It had been a passing comment as he left the yard. 'Have a good Christmas,' and now he was left standing in the crowds of Covent Garden with every other poor sod who had forgotten to buy gifts for friends and family.

He wouldn't have bothered if he hadn't realised that that was exactly why Strongrock had insisted he join them for a roast dinner and only noted that it was already Christmas day when he stopped by a newspaper stand to check. It had been a long case and he had lost several days at some point. He was exhausted, freezing cold and blankly staring at someone selling candied orange peel.

He knew that Strongrock and Winters wouldn't actually care if he turned up empty-handed, Catherine had completely refused to spend Christmas with Silver, she was younger though so may be a little upset. He certainly didn't expect anything, he didn't much care for the holiday. Just as long as no one dragged him to a carol service like his mother had done, he would be fine.

Sadly, neither Strongrock, Winters nor Catherine were particularly easy to shop for.

It was hard to buy books for Winters, she regularly added to her collection and as such, it was hard to find something that she would like that she hadn't already gotten around to buying herself. So that firmly ruled books out. Probably for all of them, they frequented bookstores often enough that it was only a matter of paying. Or stealing.

Irene, he decided, was the easiest to buy for. A fur-lined pair of leather gloves in forest green with a matching hat in the same colour. A colour she frequently wore and he did not have to be even a passable detective to have worked out that it was her favourite colour, as well as being a colour that suited her.

Catherine was not easy, he wasn't knowledgeable of what she liked, but she was vocal about what she did not like though, the young woman did seem to have a passion for complaining. However, a nice notebook and pen, he had never seen her without one, was an easy enough gift. Dark leather with a loop so that she could attach a pen to it, she did always pout when she realised that she had forgotten a pen or grabbed one that did not work.

Strongrock...

Strongrock was a challenge, the man had expensive taste and he didn't have his chequebook on him, and also had the habit of just buying himself anything he saw that he wanted. There were no practical gifts to give the man, he had plenty of scarce and the gloves to match, and hats were hard when you didn't know the right size. He was sure that Strongrock probably had the same appreciation for stationary as the women in his life but nothing he saw exactly screamed dragon prince.

A dragon prince who was undoubtedly always given whatever he wanted as a child.

He didn't wear jewellery, as far as Vale was aware at least.

It was starting to get late, stalls closing as he walked up and down the aisles looking for something, anything. He had debated coffee, something fancy but any shops selling that had already closed, and he did not trust the quality of coffee that had been sat out in the open on a cold December.

Sweets did not seem like a good enough present, chocolate and candied fruit just seemed immature and whilst he knew Strongrock would be grateful, it would likely be due to being raised well rather than genuine gratitude.

He tucked Winters and Catherine's gifts under his arm and tucked his hands into his pockets, starting to get cold now that the crowds were beginning to drift away. The stalls were quickly packed away and loaded into carts, it would be a few days before they were open again, everyone spending Christmas with their family. Winters, Strongrock and Catherine may not share blood with him, but they were certainly his family, there was no arguing there.

Perhaps he could claim to have left that behind and would bring them over another day when he had the time to find something worthy? Though he had pulled that trick for Catherine's birthday in November and they would probably catch on soon enough.

He walked past a half-closed-up jewellery stand, the polished metal and stones catching the light and his eye.

'Can I 'elp?' the elderly man packing things up asked as he stopped. 'Let me guess, someone 'ard to buy for. No one would be here this late if they knew what to get.'

'Well, what do you recommend for someone who just buys themselves whatever they want?'

'Something that they already 'ave. Obviously.'

'Obviously?' The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his fobwatch.

'Me brother gets me a new chain for this every year, probably got one for each day of the week and then some. Me wife must 'ave two dozen brooches so she can pick as she likes. Always smiling when she gets a new one, as long as there is thought behind it.'

'Cufflinks,' He said after a long pause. 'He always fiddles with them and likes to match them to his mood,' the man smiled.

'I have just put that tray away, but I'm always glad to 'elp,' There were maybe three dozen sets for him to choose from but there was no question about the set he chose being perfect. They were subtle, something that Strongrock certainly was not, bronze with a small blue stone in the centre, though he doubted that they were genuine sapphires, probably paste replicas, but that didn't matter, besides, anything too valuable would never be used out of fear that they would be damaged out lost.

Once they were boxed up he tucked them into an inner pocket and checked his watch, if he was lucky, he would only be a few minutes late.

#the invisible library #peregrine vale #Fanfiction

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darkened-storm · 2 years

Text

Digiweek Day 5 Part 2

@digiweek At last, the long awaited crossover piece. This was from a fanfic I wrote over Nano last year for a Christmas challenge for the Beyblade fandom.

A little context here: Digimon was the first fandom I created my OCs Steph and Becky for, and subsequently wrote MattxOC pretty much exclusively from then on. This proved problematic when I moved over to the beyblade fandom and my OC crossed over with me. What would I do about her character relationships? Would I have to start them all from scratch. Instead, with a friend, I came up with a solution - the rest of the franchise would just have to come with me, specifically Matt. Both characters went through a lot of revisions to fit into a second fandom, but the crux of their story is still the same.

In this piece that I’m sharing today, we see Yamato interact with both Kai Hiwatari and Daichi, and the hilarity that follows.

Some important things to note about our lovely Yamato in this universe; he is the grandson of BBA Chairman, but the two are estranged following Natsuko and Hiroaki’s divorce. He’s still very much traumatised by the divorce and he hasn’t had a year in the Digiworld to come to terms with it.

And this without further ado, I give you:

A Very Bladebreaker Christmas.

Excerpt

Steph looked up to see Kai, as punctual as ever, waiting for Becky at the Dojo gates. He wasn’t alone though; a familiar silhouette stood beside him. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, conversing casually with her captain as the two of them entered the Dojo grounds.

They hadn’t seen her yet, so she still had time to dart back inside if she wanted to, but something kept her rooted to the spot. Beside her, she could feel Becky’s excitement building. It was obvious that her cousin was up to something, and Steph couldn’t be sure, but she had a feeling her boyfriend was in on it too.

Kai scrubbed up nice, Steph decided - in a navy blazer and jeans. The pouch that he usually kept Dranzer in was noticeably absent, as was the trademark blue face paint. He wore a scarf, of course; tonight it was forest green and brought out the colour of his eyes.

Ordinarily, she would have greeted her newly reinstated captain with some sort of smart comment, but given the situation, Steph thought it best to hold her tongue and wait for Kai to make the first move.

“Summers,” he greeted her with a curt nod. He was dating her cousin but still addressing Steph by her last name?

“Kai,” she responded in turn. She glanced at her cousin. The scary older cousin speech was more Enrique’s thing, but she still felt as though she was required to say something responsible. “Curfew is eleven, remember?” In the eight months they’d lived at the Dojo, Grandpa had yet to bother enforcing said curfew. Steph didn’t want to give him a reason to have to.

Becky rolled her eyes then gave her cousin a hurried hug. “We’re opening our presents from Enrique the minute I get back.”

Steph laughed. “Agreed,” she said, giving Becky a gentle shove towards the gates. She watch the two of them disappear into the night before she turned to her unexpected guest.

“What are you doing here?” she asked curiously.

Matt grinned. “I was in the neighbourhood.”

He was obviously lying, but she didn’t care. Any doubts or worries she might have had over the last two weeks seemed completely irrelevant when he looked at her the way he was looking at her now; with a mixture of kindness and hope.

He was wearing a heavy coat over jeans and had tied his scarf loosely around his neck. He climbed the steps to the dojo carefully - the earlier drizzle had turned the snow on the path to slippery slush. He stopped one step short of the landing so that when he looked up at her, they stood nose to nose.

“I know how much you love spending Christmas with your family,” he explained, and there was no judgement in his tone. “I didn’t want you to feel homesick.”

Her heart gave a little flutter as his hands found her waist, his fingers catching in the fabric of her hoodie and drawing her towards him. As he did, she reached her arms up, looping them around his neck to steady herself on the step.

When she had first met him, she never would have expected that the broody teenager who had declared his distaste for everything to do with beyblading would actually turn out to be the patient and compassionate boy standing before her. Steph knew that aside from his brother, she was the only person to see this side of him - the side he’d kept hidden following his parent’s divorce.

“What about your mom and T.K?” she asked. She knew Nancy, who had mixed European heritage, still very much liked to celebrate Christmas with her children, something Matt had begrudgingly participated in for the sake of his younger brother. “Shouldn’t you be spending Christmas Eve with them?”

She caught the brief flash of emotion that crossed his face at the mention of his mother and brother, but she couldn’t identify it. Was it regret? Anger? Perhaps it was both; she could never be certain what he was thinking when it came to his family. Whatever it was, it was gone a moment later and his expression softened.

He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I have all of tomorrow to spend with them,” he told her. “Right now - on Christmas Eve - the only place I want to be is with you.”

Her heart gave a little flutter at that, and when he leaned towards her, she felt her whole body grow tense in anticipation of his lips on hers.

“What are you doing?”

They both gave a start, jumping apart and, her heart racing, Steph looked around for the source of the interruption.

Daichi was standing in the doorway, a half eaten gingerbread cookie in one hand and a bucket of popcorn in the other. The young teen was eyeing them suspiciously, his blue eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?” he blurted out.

Steph felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Of all people to stumble across them, she thought. She cleared her throat apprehensively. “Daichi, this is Matt. We go to school together.” Then she added for Matt’s benefit; “Daichi is - ”

“Tyson’s tag team partner,” Matt guessed, surprising her with knowledge. “I saw your match against Ming Ming last year.”

Daichi blinked, astonished. “You did?”

Matt nodded, and Steph felt compelled to add. “Matt is Mr. Dickenson’s grandson. He’s been helping us train for the upcoming match with the Bladesharks.”

She felt a chill creep up her spine, one that had nothing to do with the weather, and turned back to her teammate. “What are you doing out here anyway, Daichi?”

The younger boy blinked, then his eyes widened as he remembered. “Tyson sent me to get you - the movie’s starting.”

Ah, Steph thought. She’d almost forgotten about the movie night. “I’ll be there in a minute,” she promised, ushering the younger boy back inside and reminding him to take off his shoes. When she was sure he wasn’t lingering in the doorway and trying to overhear, she turned to Matt.

“So … that’s Daichi,” she explained unnecessarily. “He’s staying with us for the holidays.”

He chuckled. “He sounds like a handful.” He tucked his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “If you already have plans with your teammates, I can go - ”

“No!” she said at once, grasping for his jacket. “Come and watch the movie with us - that is, if you want to,” she added the last bit hastily, afraid she might be overstepping.

He hesitated. “What’s the movie?”

“The Grinch.”

“With Jim Carey, or the other guy?”

She laughed. “Jim Carey, of course.”

He considered this for a moment; he’d told her that he’d come because he was worried she might be homesick, but she wondered, or rather hoped, if he’d really come for another reason he had yet to disclose. Finally, he said; “Why not.” He followed her inside, discarding his shoes by the door and hanging his own coat on the coat rack (Steph was too short to reach the hooks, anyway).

“Your tree is crooked,” he commented.

“Don’t start,” she warned, hearing Tyson’s chuckle of laughter from the couch. Suspiciously, neither he or Hilary seemed surprised to see Matt with her - Daichi may have already tattled on her on his way inside. Or maybe it had been Tyson and Hilary’s idea to begin with - she figured it wouldn’t be difficult to get the truth out of Tyson later.

The couple had curled up on the sofa closest to the fire, leaving only the small, two seater couch in front of the Christmas tree for them to share. Shooing Freya onto the floor, she motioned for him to sit and scooted into the corner of the couch, her hand brushing against his knee as she reached for the remote beside him.

“Sorry,” she muttered. She was acutely aware of Hilary and Tyson watching the whole awkward exchange and for a moment, it looked as though Tyson was about to say something before Hilary flicked him squarely on the nose.

“Ow,” he muttered, rubbing his nose and wincing. “What was that for?”

Hilary ignored him. “Where did Daichi go?” she asked.

The world champion shrugged. “Probably getting more food,” he said, then he bellowed; “Oi Daichi, the movie’s starting.”

Beside her, Steph felt Matt wince at the sound and she shrugged apologetically. A moment later, the youngest Bladebreaker reappeared with, as Tyson predicted, yet another bowl of popcorn.

“Hope you’re planning to share that,” the world champion teased.

Daichi scowled, covering the bowl with his hands protectively. “Not with you,” he said, darting out of reach of Tyson’s outstretched hand and, and despite their couch being only a two seater, somehow managed to wriggle his way between Steph and Matt.

“Want some popcorn?” he asked, shoving the bucket of popped corn under Matt’s nose so suddenly he gave a start.

“No, thank you,” he said awkwardly. He was clearly unsure what to make of Daichi’s strange behaviour, but too polite to say anything.

Daichi shrugged, shovelling a handful in his mouth. “Suit yourself,” he said, earning a disgusted glare from Hilary as popcorn kernels spilled out onto the floor, where Freya considered them fair game.

“Daichi … “ she groaned, putting emphasis on the last syllable of his name the way she always did when the younger boy was being unintentionally rude.

“What?” he protested.

Hilary sighed, nudging her boyfriend with her foot. Tyson sighed, dragging his eyes away from the TV just long enough to roll his eyes at his teammate.

“Hey Daichi, ever heard of a thing called personal space?”

Daichi frowned, clearly oblivious. “But I want to sit here…” he said, his voice full of disappointment and Steph couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s fine, Daichi,” she said, stretching out her blanket so that it covered them both. “Let’s just watch the movie, okay?” Daichi nodded, relieved, and scooted closer, tucking a corner of the blanket around himself and settled in for the movie.

“Inside a snowflake, like the one on your sleeve…”

#digiweek #digiweek2022 #steph summers #digimon fanfiction #beyblade fanfiction #yamato ishida #becky carter #beybladexdigimon #beybladedigimon crossover #beybladeseason4 #beyblade x digimon crossover

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 1 year

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019 of 2023

When was the last time you went out of state?

I’ve never been in any state, let’s start from that.

And where did you go?

Antwerp, it’s two provinces further from my province.

What does the 6th text in your inbox say?

Jesus, what a boring question.

Do you even like the person who sent you that text?

Well, my phone forms conversations instead of that outdated inbox/outbox thing, so I don’t even know.

Do you have more than one best friend?

Definitely.

In public restrooms, do you flush the toilet with your foot?

What? I’ve never heard of anyone doing this.

What song is stuck in your head at the moment?

Unholy by Sam Smith & Kim Petras. I quite like this song :P

Name one thing you worry about running out of:

Medication.

Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?

I’m married.

Spell your first name without T, E, R, A, or L.

Nah it’s lame.

How old were you when you had your first kiss?

22 or something. Never felt much into such things.

Do you ever save Aim conversations?

I’ve never used it.

If you were a crayon what color would you be?

Transparent.

Do you wish your eyes were a different color? If so, what?

They’re a dark grey colour, like anthracite or something similar. I used to wish they were green, now I don’t care much. It is how it is.

What is the 4th digit in your phone number?

Who was the last person to comment you on Myspace?

What, does Myspace still exist? Anyways, I’ve never used it.

Have you ever given someone a fake phone number?

No, I just don’t give a number at all.

Your phones ringing; who do you want it to be?

I just want it to stop.

Have you lied to get out of a date?

No, I don’t date strangers.

Was your mom a cheerleader in high school?

She has never been in high school.

Do you still have pictures of your ex?

My 2nd ex, yes. We’re still friends.

When was the last time you ate at McDonald’s?

Very long ago.

Do you think more about the past, present or future?

A mix of everything.

Are you more of a talker or a listener?

It depends, but I’m mostly a listener.

What do you wear to bed?

Nothing, or a t-shirt in winter.

Do you like ketchup or mustard better?

Frietsaus ftw, or if I really have to choose, then ketchup. Not a big fan of either, though.

Did you ever have a Furby when you were little?

No, thankfully.

Did you eat a cookie today?

No, I don’t eat cookies.

What do you and your parents fight about the most?

I don’t fight with my dad. But with my mum, we used to fight about my appearance.

How old will you be in 15 years?

47, oh my God.

Is summer your favorite season?

It is.

Chinese, Mexican, or Italian food?

Italian, but sure you Americans don’t know any other cuisines, eh?

How many states have you lived in?

None.

When is the last time you saw your mom?

Last year at Christmas.

Do you like the band Mayday Parade?

I barely recognise them.

What was the first thing you thought about when you woke up today?

Probably a swear word.

Do you think dance/techno music is annoying?

No, it’s not.

What year were you born?

1990.

Do you shop at Hollister?

We don’t have these in Europe.

Grab the nearest book and turn to page 17. What is the 4th word?

Nope.

What are you going to be for Halloween?

I don’t even celebrate it.

How many times have you seen your favorite movie?

I don’t like movies.

Do you own a Coach purse?

I’m a dude, why on Earth would I own a purse??

What’s your Myspace song right now?

Never used that shit.

Has a boyfriend/girlfriend ever given you a pet name?

My husband calls me schatje when he’s in a mood for it, or just being sarcastic XD otherwise no. We don’t like it.

#survey #random survey #q&a survey

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undercoverhunter-elijah · 2 years

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GENERAL

FULL NAME: - 2020-present: Raul Elijah Ortiz. 1958-2020: (Ransom Elijah Hunt) AGE/DOB: - 64 (looks 56) July 3rd 1958 HEIGHT: - 6′2″ WEIGHT: - 190 lbs ETHNICITY: - white Caucasian GENDER: - cis-male HAIR: - Dark Brown going Gray EYES: - Hazel SCARS: - numerous all over body TATTOOS: - 10+ scorpion on left side of neck, cross on right shoulder, birds and clouds of left shoulder, revolver on inside of right forearm, Skull over left side of chest, skull on right forearm, cross on left forearm, heart with an arrow through it on left forearm PIERCINGS: - none LANGUAGES: - English, Spanish EDUCATION: - high school diploma OCCUPATION: - Escort SEXUAL IDENTIFICATION: - Closeted homoflexible ROMANTIC IDENTIFICATION: - Demi-romatic TEMPERAMENT: Choleric MYERS BRIGGS TYPE: ISTP: A Virtuoso (ISTP) is someone with the Introverted, Observant, Thinking, and Prospecting personality traits. They tend to have an individualistic mindset, pursuing goals without needing much external connection. They engage in life with inquisitiveness and personal skill, varying their approach as needed. MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good: You are what a vigilante is perceived as. You see laws as inherently bad and will break them without guilt to do what you think is right. You have no need to serve any rulers or have someone else tell you what good is. If you are working for an evil villain, or anyone, it is because you saw a need to unite with them due to a larger force who could not be defeated alone.

SPECIFICS

FAVORITE FOOD: - Bacon cheeseburger and curly fries. FAVORITE DRINK: - Beer, Tequila FAVORITE BRAND: - Remington FAVORITE PLACE: - Sonoran Desert FAVORITE HOBBY: - previously: making his own ammunition. currently: getting into fights FAVORITE ARTIST: - n/a FAVORITE MUSICIAN: - Hank Williams, Lorne Greene, Marty Robbins FAVORITE TV SHOW: - Have Gun - Will Travel FAVORITE MOVIE: - Yojimbo, Unforgiven FAVORITE BOOK: - n/a FAVORITE SCENT: - Tabaco, camp fire, thunder clouds FAVORITE COLOUR: - leather brown, ocher, brass, fresh bruises FAVORITE TEXTURE: - worn in leather, brass, Damascus steel FAVORITE PERSON: - sometimes himself

RANDOM

LIST FIVE THINGS THEY LIKE: - Fighting, bruises, drinking, sex, being on the prowl LIST FIVE THINGS THEY DISLIKE: - vampires, chthonics, demons, hunters, stuff from his past, questions. PET PEEVE: - Passive aggressive comments PERSONALITY TYPES THEY PREFER: - Direct, Secure, Confident, Relaxed PERSONALITY TYPES THEY AVOID: - Immature, passive aggressive, overly inquisitive ACHILLES HEEL: - His constant fear that his real identity will be found out. LIST THREE THINGS THEY LIKE ABOUT THEMSELVES: - His fighting abilities, his ability to lie fluidly, his ability to adapt and survive. LIST THREE THINGS THEY DISLIKE ABOUT THEMSELVES: - His struggles with his attraction to men, how much time he wasted living a lie, that he is a deadbeat dad. FASHION STYLE: - Simple/Cowboy LIST TWO SEX POSITIONS THEY PREFER: - doggy style, reverse cowgirl LIST TWO SEX POSITIONS THEY AVOID: - Anything where he would be bottoming.

#::tasks::#ccitytasks #ccitytasks004

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f1 · 1 year

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Every F1 drivers helmet for the 2023 season | 2023 F1 season

A new season means new helmet designs for the 20 participants in this year’s Formula 1 world championship. Or, if not new, slightly revised in many cases. With racing getting underway once more in Bahrain this weekend, here is your yearly guide to the designs each of the drivers in this year’s field will be rocking in their cars. While you can expect plenty of special designs during the year – especially around the inaugural Las Vegas Grand Prix in November – these are the typical styles you can expect to see of your favourite drivers this season. Red Bull Max Verstappen Max Verstappen’s 2023 helmet “We used different colours to last year, with the red and blue,” Verstappen said of his 2023 design. “I have chosen to go for a bit of a more old-school design, with some small lines and without the glitter. There are new brands present on Verstappen’s helmet, including the official F1 game’s producer EA Sports, but “the back of my helmet is quite slick and clean” still. The most important change is the addition of a second star to the design, to mark his second world championship title last year. Sergio Perez Sergio Perez’s 2023 helmet It’s another multi-coloured design from Perez, with a large use of yellow once again. His personal sponsors are present as usual, sharing the same spaces as on previous designs, and the base ‘colour’ is a grey pattern not unlike Red Bull’s famous test livery from 2015. As ever, F1’s only Mexican driver proudly wears the flag of his nation on the crown of his helmet. Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Ferrari Mercedes George Russell George Russell’s 2023 helmet Russell used to have a Niki Lauda-style all-red helmet, and switched to having a very dark – but not quite black – as the base colour when he joined Mercedes’ line-up for 2022. He then switched to a light blue helmet which complemented the identifying colours on his car last year. For the new season those colours have changed to bright green. Lewis Hamilton Lewis Hamilton’s 2023 helmet Hamilton returned to his traditional yellow last season, having spent several years rocking red and then purple designs. He has now blended the purple back into the yellow in a more flowing style than the rigid lines that broke up the different areas of his 2022 helmet, and Monster Energy logos remain in their usual spot in a black banner around the top of the lid. For the season-opening race in Bahrain, Hamilton added a rainbow to the top of the helmet, as he has previously worn to indicate his support for LGBTQ+ pride. Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Alpine McLaren Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Alfa Romeo Aston Martin Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Haas AlphaTauri Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Williams Valtteri Bottas’ testing helmet Valtteri Bottas special helmet for 2023 pre-season testing Expect to see most of the field produce special helmet designs at some stage during the season. Valtteri Bottas has already sported one during pre-season testing. “It’s basically my face,” he said, “so it’s a bit of fun.” Over to you Which driver has the best helmet design for the new season? Have your say in the comments. 2023 F1 season Browse all 2023 F1 season articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

#F1 #Every F1 driver’s helmet for the 2023 season | 2023 F1 season #Formula 1

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berthelsen95helbo · 2 years

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hermes crocodile kelly 15

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#hermes crocodile kelly #himalayan kelly #hermes himalayan kelly #crocodile hermes bags #himalayan kelly bag #himalaya kelly #crocodile kelly #himalayan crocodile #replica hermes crocodile kelly

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venenatd · 3 years

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just friends; eren jaegar x reader

summary: you and eren are best pals and have both recently be dumped. so, a plan to get over your exes is needed! what’s better than going out on the town trying to find quick fucks >:) also eren is a smug bastard but kinda has a heart of gold??

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (choking, unprotected sex, creampie drinking, drunk sex, possessiveness ig? dirty talk, both of them want to be dominant tbh. slight size kink, oral both m and f receiving. female bodied reader)

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 5.8k words of unedited content

a/n: uh so i never thought i’d be back on my tumblr bullshit at 23 but hey after years without the app i’m back. i needed to get out the h-word and this is what happened. enjoy and i’m sorry if it’s terrible lmao

“You look different”

Frowning at the man waiting ever so patiently for you on the sofa, you look a little defeated. “Is that meant to be a compliment, Eren?”. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you. To be fair, maybe you did. Wearing a figure hugging black dress, that definitely just hid your ass cheeks, hair styled and sprayed in place, dark lipstick and makeup on your face. Usually Eren would have seen you in sweats, always running a little late for class, snack in hand.

“Different isn’t bad,” he offered, checking the watch that lay on his wrist, “are we ever going to get to the bar? Your plan will fall through if you’re not careful.”

Ah, the plan. Both you and Eren were newly single. In your final year at university, having managed to keep each relationship going until almost the end. Ironic. Weren’t most meant to fail in the first year? But alas, your partners had decided it was the end within a couple of weeks each other, and as you and Eren had been close since you met on orientation day, you each took to the other for comfort. You had done the crying first, going to him the minute your call with the ex had ended. Leaving wet splotches on his shirt, he had calmed you, only for you to do the same to him later. Now the crying was done, it was time to move on, and what better advice to follow than getting under someone to get over another?

“I just need to look hot enough for a guy to fuck me.”

“What a romantic you are.”

“Shut up Er-”

Eren shifted from the couch, interrupting your usual sass, “and what about me, y/n? Do I look beautiful?”. He threw in a wink with his comment, his aura of cockiness always radiating. You rolled your eyes, before studying his figure. His dark hair half pulled back into a bun, the rest draping his neck and onto a deep emerald green silk shirt, with the top few buttons loose, tucked into dark pants. A ring on each hand, fingers with chipping black nail polish, and to top it off, a thin chain on his neck. You hated to admit it and add to his smug demeanour but... the man did look good.

“Gorgeous as always Eren,” you said sarcastically, even if it was truthful, “I’m sure there will be a queue of women who are wanting to jump on you.”

“Not if they aren’t all taken already,” he taps at his watch. Whilst the two of you had already been drinking as he waited for you to get ready, it was definitely on the later side.

“Order the uber, and we can go.”

Walking over to him and adding shoes to your outfit, you present yourself before him, a cute little smile playing on your lips. He’s staring down at his phone, quickly going through the motions for the ride. Finally, he looks up to catch your eyes. His jade pupils flick down slightly, and he hopes you miss that they land at the cleavage you’re sporting in your current get up. He flicks your nose, earning a scowl from you and a smile from him.

“You look perfect”

The club is far fuller than you both expected, dance floor and tables taken up and crowded round. Luckily, you had managed to secure you and Eren a pair of seats at the bar, and you were currently on your third..? Fourth drink of the evening. Green eyes watch your lips carefully, as you finish the vodka and lemonade.

“So, anyone take your fancy?” he prompts, looking around at the mess of people.

Humming, you scan the area. There’s some people you recognise from class, but plenty more you don’t know. Fucking friends seems like a bad move, even in your tipsy state, so you look to the strangers faces. They don’t look like him. Ugh.

There’s a few options though, and as you point them out to Eren they come with brief descriptors: dark hair and stubble, wide set blonde. He tuts at the options, sarcastically letting out a “sure sure, I see the appeal”.

“And how about you, anyone you like the look of?” you ask with a sigh.

Christ, Eren thinks to himself. It’s been long enough that he hasn’t had to look for someone else. Sure there were attractive people in the world, but with her around, he hadn’t needed to give anyone else a second look. His palm moves to the back of his neck, stretching out behind him with a huff. “Let’s look on the dance floor?” he offers, clearly not as eager as you were tonight. Moving his hand back down, he holds it out for you, pulling towards the throng of people.

He looks effervescently cool like this. Shirt open, hair starting to fall from his bun. Eren is looking around at the people surrounding the two of you. The two of you had been working in circles, allowing each other an eyeful as the club goers move around the space. As a group of guys push their way from the dance floor to the bar, you get shoved towards Eren. Heels were never quite your forte, and you stumble against him, hands on either side of his chest. Grinning down at you with that smug little smile that annoyed you so much, Eren brought large hands to your waist, pushing you away a little. But his hands stay there as he continues to sway to the music, making no effort to break the contact. And so you bring your arms up to his neck, allowing his movements to carry you on time to the song. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, you feel light. Your chest isn’t constricted by some foreign weight. It’s just you and your best friend, buzzed and free.

Colours change above you, as you look up to Eren, him down to you. A playful grin takes his lips as he pulls you a little closer, you so easily accepting the narrowing distance. Your black silk meets his deep green, chest pushing into his. You carefully analyse his features, seeing if he attempts to check you out like earlier.

Was it the alcohol making your cheeks so warm? Lit up by a purple hue, you watch his eyes return to exploring the crowd, his hand still holding on to you. His smirk falters, his eyebrows creasing together. You’re not moving in circles anymore, Eren pausing in his movements as he thinks about what to do next. He shouldn’t lie to you, but seeing your ex at the bar would really harsh the night. Under his fingers, he can feel your body tense, suddenly unsure at how close the contact between you was.

But Eren doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t want you to be distracted by your ex tonight. He doesn’t want to see your hurt little face anymore. The way your eyes would be red and puffy the next day. The way he would feel your shoulders heaving under his arms. You don’t deserve that. Hell, you didn’t deserve the huge amount of shit your ex had put you through over the years he’d known you. Eren would sit back and listen to you rant, support you where he could. But fuck that guy. And he wasn’t sure what sparked in his chest, but Eren’s jade orbs are trained straight back on you. His eyebrows calm, tension releasing from them. As you can turn to scope out whatever had changed his body language so suddenly, he catches your jaw.

Beginning to slowly move again, his eyes have narrowed, taking in the way the dress hugs you, the shine on your skin from the hot dance floor. Eren couldn’t quite figure out what was intoxicating him right now. Definitely a lot of alcohol, but also a sudden… possessiveness. He didn’t want you in pain anymore. Eren wanted you in pleasure. His breath is suddenly on your neck, making your hair raise.

“I’ve only seen one person I’m interested in tonight.”

“Oh?” you squeak, before clearing your throat a little. The new deep notes in his voice catch you off guard. It almost sounds like he’s… No. He’s your best friend. The little looks you’d been giving each other all night were just two people looking out for one another, two people seeing each other happy for the first time in a while. Your voice is calmer as you ask light-heartedly, “and who would that be?”

His lips are so close to your ear.

“You.”

“Eren-” your hands move from behind his neck, resting on his shoulders. You need to see your best friend's face, you need to know if he’s joking right now. If he’s mocking you. When you draw back, you see his face. Smug, as always. Fuck you’ve always wanted to knock that cockiness down a peg. Cheshire smile showing his teeth and his eyes looking down at you. Half lidded eyes, pupils blown. He’s not joking. Fuck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. All too aware suddenly of each of his finger pads pressing into your skin, the contact feeling like fire with the added alcohol. But, you find yourself nodding, the yes just escaping your lips before he’s pressed into them.

Large hands travel to your hip, and up your back, pressing you into him. You can feel his body, tense in exhilaration against you, hands back around his neck. One travels up to the nape of his back, tangling into his hair and pulling him deeper into you. The music is all consuming, you can feel the bass in your body, you can feel Eren against you, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Eren’s hand on your back travels up, echoing your placement on him, to hold the back of your neck. He doesn’t want you to go, you feel too good. The heat between your bodies could suffocate him. His thumb puts pressure under your jaw, he isn’t even sure you can feel it. But he can, measuring your pulse racing underneath the pad. He’s smiling into this kiss, this all consuming kiss.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you’re all too eager to allow him into your mouth. Tasting the whisky from your home, tasting the coke from the club. His teeth take your lip nipping slightly, before sucking the plump of it into his mouth. You both come up for air, eyes meeting in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The drive home had only served to heap tension between you. As clearly that it was that you wanted each other, you would have to wait a while longer. Your thighs pressed together, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Going through your mind was whether this was a good idea, staring out at the city passing by you. Eren was your friend. You were dating another man two weeks ago. The same man that had previously asked you if he needed to be worried about Eren. You’d laughed it off, because it was Eren. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt him grip your leg, a little too harshly at first, before settling, leaving a gentle pattern of circles and lines on your inner thigh. It was Eren.

Just one hallway. You had to make it one hallway to get into your apartment. One hallway left to come to your senses. And just like he read your mind, Eren is once again touching you, just his hand on yours pulling you backwards. You twist just in time, his hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, deeply and intensely. Pushing you back into the wall, you pray a neighbour doesn’t walk out now. His knee is pressing gently between your legs, and you allow it. Your fingers sink into Eren’s arms, lightly covered by the fabric yet you can still feel the muscle underneath, relaxing and tensing as he pulls you closer.

His lips are making their way to your jaw, lifting your chin upwards, tentatively licking the bone before moving downwards still, sucking and nipping and licking your neck. A whimper breaks through. You really need to get inside. Gripping his hair, you sharply pull backwards.

“Not going to play nice, huh?”

When did he speak like this? The playful and shit-eating grin your friend Eren always wore was replaced by something darker, his words laced with intent.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You were off, finally at your door, making quick work with the lock, moving in first before he followed. The door shut as you pushed Eren against it, usual doe eyes being taken over with a deep lust. Your hands are instantly at his belt, as his hands find your face once again. This time he’s grabbing your hair, making you look up at him as he glares down at you. You’re constantly challenging one another in conversation, and it’s translating to the bedroom far too easily.

Lips are on one another again, as you leave the belt and start towards his shirt. You bite down on his bottom lip, earning a hiss from him, and you feel his hand being brought around your throat. He doesn’t add too much pressure, checking if this turn is indeed okay with you. When you push against the weight, he takes the gleam in your eye as a yes, and uses the force to push you against the next wall, finally moving off the front door.

It’s a constant battle to get to the bedroom, both of you taking control for short bursts. Eren pulling the thin straps of your dress down, you untucking his shirt. His muscular torso is on full display, and you had never viewed it in this light before.

Finally he pushes you onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. Your kisses are sloppy and infused with alcohol. Hands are desperate with one another, both of you needing to be closer. Are you scared if the contact ends your thoughts will return to sanity?

Eren’s hot and heavy over you, his hands seem everywhere at once. Smoothing up your thigh, digging in slightly to the flesh when you grind against one another. His hands rest at your hips for a moment, and he’s looking down at you, still fucking smiling. All at once, he’s flipped you over his prominent hard on pressing into your ass. He’s whispering in your ear, leaving wet kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blades. Fingers take the zip at the back of your dress, slowly and carefully pulling it down, leaving licks and pecks as he goes. It’s torturous.

You attempt to speed things up by rutting your ass against his crotch, and you think you hear a quiet moan, before his hand is brought down to the fabric, smacking your cheek. You gasp, turning your head to look at him. Eren is too occupied in taking in all of your body, his green eyes are darkened with authority and lust. His nimble fingers play with the short hem of your dress, thumb dipping beneath, before he pushes the silk up.

You both let out soft fuck’s, as his hands grab at the plump of your ass. It’s like he’s testing the softness, the way your flesh responds to his touch so easily. He slaps at you again, earning a sharp moan from you. Eren’s leaning down, his mouth once again trailing across the apex of your behind, leaving trails of saliva as he goes. Before you can even register the new sensations you can feel a soft pressure against your clothed cunt, just enough to let you know the presence of his hand, but not enough for you to get off on. You’re mewling, once again trying to get closer to him. This time he allows it, eagerly pressing his ring and middle finger to your clit, allowing you to grind upon them.

Seeing you underneath him like this… it’s new and strange and so fucking hot. He’s watching you desperately try and fill the need building in your core, and he can only feel his cock twitch in his pants as he sees you coming undone. If you wanted more, he could definitely give it to you. Bringing his large hands away, to the flimsy fabric that was covering you, he pulls it down, exposing you to him. His heart and dick fucking jump. His hands return to your ass, watching the jiggle as you move and whimper. Spreading you, he brings his face down, breath tingling on your most sensitive areas.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue, gentle at first, licks between your folds. He’s tasting you, he’s moaning into your pussy, as you write beneath him. Eren’s hands are squeezing your ass cheeks, holding you still as you try to grind against his face.

“Patience, y/n”, he says, with a slap on your behind again.

“Fuck you,” you hiss.

“You will be in a minute, baby girl, don’t worry.”

You go to make a retort but he’s instantly back, licking up your slit and a deep moan escapes you. Jesus you can feel the smile on his lips as he’s back on your pussy. Eren is so proud of the sounds he can draw from you. He wonders if your ex could make you come undone so easily.

You taste sweet and saccharine on him, and he doesn’t hold back the groan as he further works his way into you. Hardened tongue moving it’s way from your entrance down to your clit. He swipes at it, before moving away again. Kissing your thighs, kissing the skin between your holes. Every now and then he’ll move back to your clit, allowing you a moment of pleasure before he’s teasing again. “Fuck, please”. Your whines are being smothered by the sheets, and Eren wants nothing more than to hear them, loud and clear.

Eren’s ringed fingers make their way to your hair, his face lifting from between your legs. He pulls you back round, and holy shit you can see how wet you are on his face. There’s a sheen to his lips and chin, and instinctively you reach up to his neck, pulling him back on top of you. Your tongue meets his, tasting your tartness on his mouth. A hand makes it way back down in between your thighs, playing and parting your folds. Your hand in turn reaches up his neck, pulling sharply at his hair once again. “Eren. More- please” you get out in between staggered breaths.

“Aw, since you asked so nicely” his eyes watch your expression closely as his thumb rests on your clit, his finger swiftly moving inside you. Your eyebrows raise and knot, eyes wide and lips parted. But he keeps it still as your legs shaked around his arm. “Eren, move” you demand this time.

“Oh, that’s not so nice. I liked it when you were polite.” He starts to retract his finger, thumb gently swabbing your clit so you’ll know what you miss.

“Please, please, please, Eren, please” you speak before he even gets the first knuckle out. All the teasing was creating a tightness in your lower stomach.

“Much better.”

You whine as he continues to pull his finger from you, until he pushes it back in, curling his solitary finger up. Your fingernails are pressing deep into the muscle of his bicep, feeling how it moves as he finger fucks you. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again, and his thumb is swiping eagerly on your clit.

Eren can feel you fluttering around his finger, desperate for more, desperate to release on him. He adds another finger, your wetness allowing him entrance easily. He wants to fuck you so bad, his cock so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

He pushes your hands off him, leaving crescent moon indents deep in his skin, he works his way back down. He brings the black silk with him this time, fully being able to take in your body as you’re left naked before him. Holy shit you’re beautiful. He doesn’t want to stare too long and make you shy. But he still kisses his way down, before he’s back at your pussy.

This time he allows you more movement, letting your fingers work their way back into his hair, letting you roll your hips against his tongue and stubble.

With his spare hand he pulls out his cock, slowly pulling at it, before he realises he can’t do that for too long without cumming before the main event. Instead he reaches up, rolling your perked nipples in between his fingers. There are so many sensations on your body, and Eren can feel your cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers. You hold your breath before letting out little moans, building towards reaching your height.

“You want to cum on my fingers?

Your back is arching, whispering “yes, yes, yes, please” as your walls are tightening around him. He quickens the pace, making sure to hit that spot inside you over and over. Thighs around his face, he can feel your slick pooling in his mouth, and coating his chin once again.

Your gummy walls are so tight around his thick fingers, he needs you to finish, watch you fully unravel below him. Sucking and licking at your clit, he’s pushing you towards the edge.

“Eren-” his name is strangled coming out of you, and then your moaning, undulating your cunt against his mouth, riding out your orgasm.

His jade eyes look up at you, watching as you pull your head up to look at him, before another wave of pleasure hits you and you have to arch your neck and look back up. He waits for you to come down, letting you fuck his face and fingers. Grinding against his stubble and tongue as you let out pitiful and beautiful moans. You’re so fucking wet, the sounds coming from between the two of you should be forbidden, as you release onto him.

Finally he withdraws, using his forearm to wipe his face. He lies next to you, allowing you a moment as he draws little circles on your stomach. Eren has never quite looked at you in this light. Sure, you were pretty, and the two of you were obviously close. But now you’d walked a line that couldn’t be undone. You weren’t over your ex, and as okay as Eren was with what had happened between you, he didn’t want you to run. He’s overcome with thoughts, looking down to your chest and the heavy breaths you were taking. All he could pray was that you weren’t pretending he was someone else.

But as Eren is getting caught up in his own mind, you’re twisting, hand reaching to his crotch, cock having been recaptured by his boxers. Palming him, you feel how big he really is for the first time. Fingers trace the edge of his pants and underwear, and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down. Shit. His dick slapped back to his stomach, precum leaking from the top of his pink head. He was bigger than you’d imagined, because of course you’d imagined it a couple of times.

Your hand looks so small around his cock, but you slowly tease him, his deep green orbs following your movements. Bringing your head down to him, you kitten lick the precum from the top of his dick. He hisses gently, and you look up at him with these big doe eyes, so fucking eager to please.

You push your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue as you begin working along his shaft. He moans just at the sight of you, your eyes peeking up through dark lashes. His hand goes through your hair, eagerly pushing you deeper around him.

He lets out a hoarse, “is this okay?” before you put your own hand on his pushing it for the both of you. You don’t even want to come up for air, you just want him close to you, inside you.

You were learning far more about each other than you had expected, as Eren takes back over. He pushes himself further into you, muttering a good girl that has you whining. The vibrations around his cock make his hips buck, and now you’re gagging as his length hits the back of your throat. He holds you there instead of letting you off, and your nails are sharp against his thighs.

His head lolls back as he starts to move his hips under you, moving you in turn with your hair. He picks up the pace quickly, allowing saliva to drool from you and straight to his cock.

Your eyes prick, big fat tears forming at the corners. But you’re enjoying this way too much, the moans and gasps he gives make you moan, pressing your thighs together for some kind of friction.

He takes your jaw in his grasp, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Your tongue sits out your mouth, him smacking the head of his dick on it. He notices your tears then, the mascara that’s running a little. He swipes at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead.

Bringing you up to him, your dripping folds sliding across his length. His lips are on your cheeks, across your jaw, licking up your neck before reclaiming your plush lips once again. You continue grinding against one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually Eren brings his hands to your hips, lifting you up as you hold his shaft up.

Your foreheads are pressed together as he slowly pushes inside you. The stretch is burning and all-consuming, eyes pricking up again as you feel him hit your furthest wall. Eren breathes out heavily, “So fucking tight”

You roll your hips, allowing some friction from him on your clit. It helps your muscles relax a little, and balancing your hands on his shoulders you push yourself up and down, using his length for your own pleasure. Eren’s eyes don’t leave your form, watching your breasts bounce and how your eyes flutter close as he fills you entirely.

“You really did want to be fucked, huh? Look at you” he teases you, watching as you go to talk back before he thrusts his hips up. It leaves the words caught in your throat.

His pace maintains, holding you in place as he fucks up into you, feeling your cunt clench around him. There are long moments where you hold your breath, holding his cock tight within you. Then you’ll release and moan, before holding it in again. Well, Eren is all too happy to help you with that.

One hand grabbing the flesh of your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, he pushes into you at a punishing rate. Your eyes go wide at the sudden restriction of your throat, feeling the cold metal of his ring against your pulse.

“Who knew this about you? That you were such a slut?”

As much as he knows you want to deny it, you want to smack the smugness from his voice, he can feel your pussy tighten around him. He sees your eyes roll back a little.

“You’re getting tighter.”

The hand on your hip moves down, attempting to hold you in place whilst letting his thumb press over your clit. The sounds of him slapping against your wetness is obscene, and he’s only distracted from it as you whimper out pathetic yes’s and please’s.

“You wanna cum?” he’s grunting, trying to keep the pace going until you can reach your peak.

You nod against his wide hand, still tight around your neck. “Oh you can do better than that. I already know how bad you want it, slut.”

“Please Eren, please make me cum. I want to cum, please, please, please” you can barely make out the words, your head going light and body tightening.

“Cum for me.”

You release, and as he can feel the fluttering of your walls around him, he lets go of your throat. The sudden oxygen as you cum leaves you overwhelmed. Burying yourself in his shoulder, he fucks you through it. Cock slapping up into your cunt over and over, somehow being sucked deeper in as you coat his length with more of your own slick. He can feel your nails breaking the flesh of his back as you’re holding on for dear life, moaning his name and even a fucking thank you into his ear.

As you begin to slow, legs shake as you stay straddled over him. He flips you, Eren now firmly on top, slowly moving in and out of you. The stimulation is intense, your cunt sparking at any sensation.

Caged between his forearms, his hair is a mess thanks to you. You push tendrils back past his ears as he leans down to kiss you once again. This kiss is different. It feels… less desperate. It feels deep and meaningful, caring even.

Your eyes meet in acknowledgment, both of you too worried to speak about the shift in tone.

He reaches down instead, pulling your leg up and splitting you on his cock. A tongue swipes at your nipple, biting and playing with each as he gradually picks up pace again. You’re still so fucking wet it’s easy for him to thrust into you at a dizzying pace. You can feel all of him against your gummy walls. Each time he passes that special spot inside you, you moan and gasp, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

His thrusts were becoming more primal, holding your thighs close around his hips. Letting your sweaty bodies collide again and again, his balls slapping against you. The grunts and moans coming from his lips were so infuriatingly erotic. Eren just wanted one more from you, and then he’d let himself finish. If this was to be a drunken mistake, so be it, but he would at least make it memorable.

Those jade eyes were on you once again, the power and dominance radiating from the immeasurable. He can see you barely being able to hold on, completely fucked out beneath him. You’re moaning and whining, hands moving over the swell of your breasts and playing with your nipples as if it’s going to keep you grounded.

He sits up, eyes flicking down to where you were conjoined. It took so much restraint not to cum inside you right then and there. Your glistening sex was so tight around him, the wet slapping noises echo again and again. You’re pulling and sucking him in, cream pooling around his length.

“Give me one more, y/n. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You try to look up at him through heavy lids. Your friend Eren saying this is so taboo. The words he’s said tonight so far from normal for the both of you. You flutter around him, somehow your pussy still wants to be fucked, still wants to push you off the edge one more time. You can feel the coil inside your stomach tightening.

Eyes rolling back, you can barely keep it together anymore. He’s pounding into you at a startling rate, fingers flicking over your clit again and again and again.

“P - please, it’s s-so good.”

Your breaths between words were quick, “you’re so big-”

“Yeah you like that? You like being so full of my cock? Such a pretty face you make when you’re all fucked out.”

Holy shit.

Eren could tell how much words affected you, your back arching and legs pulling him somehow closer into you.

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear those moans.” he’s grunting, getting so fucking close to losing himself in your cunt. He knows what he wants to hear most though, “say my name. Tell me who’s treating you how you should be”

With that, you’re losing yourself around him again. Writing on the bed, gripping sheets in tightly balled fists. White light taking over your sight as you clench around Eren. This orgasm was the most intense, taking your body by surprise in its overstimulated state. You weren’t even making a noise, just holding on to the high for as long as possible.

And then you shattered, whining and moaning, whispering his name over and over again.

As you moved underneath him, Eren kept his punishing pace up until he watched you expel the last of your energy. Name forming on your lips over and over again he falters, releasing inside you. You can feel the stickiness inside you, the sensation of being filled up. Eren watches for a moment as he sees the white pearls forming around your stretched out pussy.

His chest is back on yours as he kisses your neck, shoulders, whatever skin he can. Thrusting back into you a couple of times, he finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

Eren lies next to you, both of your bodies attempting to regulate from that.

“You okay?”

He’s checking in, making sure he didn’t go too far with someone he genuinely cares for.

You nod, turning to meet his stare. Giving him a drowsy smile, you’re not sure what comes next. But for now, you’re happy. Curling into his side, he puts an arm round you and lets you rest for a while. As he notices your breathing become deeper, he nestles into you, muttering something about clean up.

Moving away from you, you can make out some noises of a tap, drawers opening and closing. In your sleepy state you feel him gently wiping at you, two glasses of water being put on the bedside table. Finally he makes his way back to you, and Eren notes how cute you look. Hot and completely fucked out, yes. But also gentle and at peace, allowing the heaviness of sleep taking over.

He rests behind you, wanting to be back in your warmth. He pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. The fragrance of you takes over his nostrils, and he’s all too eager to move closer to your hair, pressing one last kiss at the nape of your neck. Whatever tomorrow brings, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to be this close to you.

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #aot smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yaegar x reader smut #attack on titan smut #pls be nice lmao

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

Santa Baby

Summary: For over a decade, detective Walter Marshall kept a dirty little secret, thinking no one would ever find out about his past. Sadly for him, you are somewhat of a detective yourself.

Challenge prompt: the song Santa Baby.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some sexy themes but mostly fluffy floof fluff.

A/N: This is for @toomanystoriessolittletime Christmas challenge, which I am sadly a day late with. Remind me to never sign up to challenges. I stumbled upon erotic book covers that looked a lot like Walter (this and this) so decided it’s a funny idea. I never read these books, so I am not mocking it or the artist who drew it. Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming for helping me out. Not beta’d, I own my mistakes.

Please feedback, comment, reblog if you enjoyed reading. 💖

Title: Santa Baby

It’s not that Detective Marshall was the Grinch or anything, it’s just that he couldn’t afford to be merry. With crime levels peaking during that time of the year, and sunlight being scarce, his body ran strictly on caffeine and stale doughnuts.

The temptation to spend Christmas eve sprawled on the worn-out leather sofa in his office was quite strong tonight. But even big hulking bears had their weaknesses, and as exhausted as he was, he dreaded every morning he woke up without your warm body curled up beside him.

With his energy level blinking red, he finally decided to call it a night and drive home. Heavy growling and thundering drums roared within his truck, the extreme Scandinavian black-metal he listened to served as a complete contrast to the soft snow that fell from the sky and quietly piled up on the sides of the road. Pausing at the street-light, he watched the little crystals striving to form on his windshield and melting just as quickly against the heat of the car.

For a single moment, all the terrors of the night diminished by the little flame that was the reminiscent of you - his little firefly who led him through the darkness, tender as snow and wild as fire. Accelerating just a tad, he imagined you’d be asleep by the time he’d get there, and if not, Walter hoped to at least be in your good graces.

Luckily, ther warm orange hues beaming through the windows assured him that you were still very much awake, and he couldn’t help but spare one of his rare smiles.

Muffled tunes of a familiar song played beyond the door, the bass vibrating through the polished wooden flooring and the walls. Slow and sensual like honey rolling off one’s finger, the jazzy beats filled the spacious house along with the sweetest scent of crushed peppercorn and red berries. Smiling wider, he held onto the doorframe and kicked off his heavy boots.

“Pet?” he called and followed into the living room, hearing you humming along with the lyrics.

“Santa baby, just slip a Sable under the tree for me.”

Oh, he was indeed in your good graces.

Sitting on your knees with your ankles hunched below your ass, you wore a velvety Santa hat and a sheer, red nighty finished by fake white fur that outlined your breasts. Your hands held a shiny green present over your thighs, and you gave him one of those coy looks that made him want to fall before you and pledge himself as your servant.

Instead, he crooked an eyebrow and unzipped his thick winter coat, carelessly discarding it on the floor and making his way toward you.

“Have you been an awful good girl?”

Sleeves rolled up; he crossed his muscular arms together while towering over you. His cobalt eyes drank in your sight, trying to decide what to do with you first. The scent of musky sweat mingled with dark cologne wafted over you within seconds, making your chest rise and sink in a primal instinct.

“Oh, I’m definitely going down your chimney tonight,” he growled upon your reaction to his presence and sucked in his bottom lip with growing hunger.

“At least three times,” you dared him in return and then casually lowered your gaze to the box perched on your lap.

The large man caught on the hint and carefully knelt before you. One of his hands reached to stroke his beard while his mind rummaged to figure out what surprise hid behind the shiny package.

“Got something for me over there?” he wondered with a playful beam, “I thought we’re not doing presents until tomorrow morning.”

“Just a little teaser,” you answered. Your eyes shone brighter than the large decorated tree that stood at the corner of the living room.

Being a detective, Walter could practically smell the mischief that drenched every teeny hair on your body. As usual, his naughty vixen was up to no good. It always made him laugh how bad you were in trying to surprise him, which worked in his favour. Walter hated surprises.

Intrigued, he snatched the gift from your hands and shook it against his ear for shy second before beginning to unwrap it. His eyes briefly scrutinised yours, darkening, smokey with lust while he tore at the chrome paper and absentmindedly threw pieces of green wrapping all over the living room.

You watched carefully, your cheeks rounding and filling, your teeth flashing with wickedness upon seeing the colour drain from his rugged face.

“Where…”

Walter paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. Fingers oily with sweat and knuckles turning white, dug into the object held in his hand.

“How did you find this?!”

The snort you’ve been trying to hold back for the last couple of minutes finally made its way out, followed by a fit of uncontrollable giggles that made you fall to your back with your hand held over your torso.

Walter, on the other hand, was anything but amused. He always feared the day someone would dig up his dirtiest secret.

It was more than a decade ago when he was struggling to pay his tuition to the police academy that Walter found an easy and quick way to make money. As a British immigrant who barely had friends and blended with the crowd, he made the mistake of thinking no one will ever know about his short-lived modelling career for cheesy erotic novels.

He should have known better. He might have been a professional police detective, but you had a skill for uncovering the truth.

“Where did you find this?” Walter repeated with a frown, clenching his jaw and waving the colorful book in the air.

Pausing your giggles merely for a second, you took a gander at the cover, focusing on the image of your dear husband’s open white shirt. There he was, the man you knew as a brooding, black-sweater wearing grump, lost in some green meadow with a half-naked chick. A deep dramatic gaze crisped his younger face, his nose inhaling the scent of her hair, and his hand laid flat upon her juicy rump.

Oh the drama!

You tried to speak, but all that came out of your mouth was an uncontrollable peal of chuckles. The corny title of the book didn’t help either; his fiery love rod.

Walter sulked and suddenly shuffled to hover above you, one hand snapped at your wrist before the other discarded the book onto your sternum and joined in restraining your other arm. Led purely by instinct, your legs spread to straddle his wide waist and wrapped around his muscular ass.

Staring at your strong, intimidating husband, the laughter rolling from your lips slowly died down, yet the smile was still smeared between your cheeks, especially once you felt his groin pressing into yours.

“Woman!” the big bear growled at you, “I am not going to ask you more than once, where on earth did you bloody find this?”

“The second-hand bookstore,” you answered and glanced at the book lying upon your chest, “was looking for something raunchy to read when suddenly I noticed a familiar face.” You explained and then swallowed the dryness in your throat.

“At first I thought I was hallucinating with all them Christmas carols eating into my brain, but then when I took a closer peek, I recognised my husband’s ‘fuck me’ stare.”

Walter felt a burn rising in his throat and swerving to tingle at his bristly cheeks. If there ever was a moment when he regretted a life decision, that moment was now. He knew he’d never hear the end of it from you. You were dauntless and unyielding as the ocean, one of the reasons why he was utterly in love with you.

Nostrils flaring, he tightened the grasp around your wrists and rolled his hips into yours, eliciting a small moan from your quivering lips. The thick bulge in his groin hardened at the calling of the hot, wet patch in your panties.

“Name your terms, woman.”

“You are going to read it to me,” you answered without even overthinking and gestured toward the book with your chin. “Every. night. before. bedtime. I want you to hold me in your big strong arms and read me a chapter from ‘his fiery love rod’, or else…”

“Or else?...”

The fire from the mental suddenly illuminated your face, causing dark shadows to form over your irises and the hollows below your brows. “Your friends at the MPD are going to find out about this one,” you paused, “and the 12 others that you made.”

Taken back by your words, Walter gulped, his fingers became moist around your wrists as sheer horror seeped into his mind.

“You... you know about the others?”

You nodded at him and then snaked your legs around the back of his thighs to cage him in your grasp like a fickle dryad growing her roots around a helpless wanderer. With his attention faltering, you twisted your hips and rolled the two of you so you were on top. Fingers lacing into his, you pinned him down and leered over him with cascading triumph.

“12 books, all under our Christmas tree, detective, so you better be good to me tonight and satisfy all my needs.”

Adam apple bobbing up and down, Walter watched you with a mixture of awe and agitation. There was nothing he hated more than losing control, but damn if he didn’t adore his wicked queen, especially when you were in a joyous mood, which, as he found, tended to be contagious. The moments in which the grouchy detective felt at peace were rare to non-existent. It was only in the embrace of your thighs that he thought that for a minute, everything is going to be okay.

Noticing the muscles of his jaw somewhat relax, you reached for the Christmas hat and slipped it off your head, placing it atop of his curly mess instead. Your hands held firmly onto Walter’s shoulders, and with a careful twist, you flipped the two of you over once again and shoved him down your torso while blissfully chanting.

“Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry toniiiiiiiiiiight.”