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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

Text

honey, I’m home

🍯 honey flavour: Xmas fluff and smut drabble

🐝 the beebees: linecook!Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k

Content warnings: soft dom Eddie, smut, oral (f receiving), reader has fem anatomy, gratuitous use of the nickname ‘princess’, Christmas fluff

foreword: so many delish linecook!Eddie ideas out there I’m throwing my hat into the ring. holiday edition. i wrote this while hiding in my room from relatives lol. my first time w/longer-form on tumblr like this send help I’m scared!!!!

Linecook!Eddie working a long shift at the diner ‘cuz he picked up shitty Christmas Eve hours to be with you all day Christmas, which he swore was worth it despite your earlier protests.

You’ve got some of the Gang over at the trailer helping you wrap presents; everyone’s hands are busy with mugs of cocoa and Scotch tape and too-long ribbons.

Robin and Steve are squabbling over a prized tube of wrapping paper on the couch, Max and El are stretched out on the floor stringing popcorn garlands, and you’re overseeing Dustin’s attempts at bow-tying on the coffee table when Eddie walks in.

And he’s scuffing his boots on the mat, shaking snow from his hair, sidling up to you when you stand to greet him and pressing his face into your neck. You squeak at his cold nose and you can feel him smile against your skin as he hugs you tighter.

“Are you gonna keep making out with your girlfriend or are you gonna help us?” Dustin grouses, irritable from all the energy he’s expended on the bows that just don’t look quite right.

You move to pull away, feeling a lil chastised (by a teenager, no less) but Eddie slips his strong arm around your waist, locking you in place, not bothering to break eye contact with you as he says resolutely, “I’m gonna keep making out with my girlfriend.”

He plants one on you right in front of everyone and although your first instinct is to feel embarrassed it’s quickly drowned out by the desire to keep kissing him, because my god can that boy kiss. And he does. With gusto. Ringed hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

There are girlish giggles coming from the pair on the floor; Dustin’s grumbling about needing bleach for his eyes, Steve calls out something about you and Eddie getting a room.

Without missing a beat or taking his lips from yours, Eddie lifts a hand from your face to flip the boy on the couch off. When he finally does pull back, it’s just enough to ask, quietly, as if you’re the only people in the room- “You have dinner yet, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, his one hand still resting on your cheek, a little out of breath- “No, uh, nope. We were waitin’ for you, thought we’d order pizza, or…”

You trail off. He looks downright fucking beautiful, in the soft, glowy Christmas lighting, white work tanktop peeking out from his black and blue flannel, glint of silver chains at his neck. You haven’t seen him since early this morning, when he’d pressed a kiss to your half-awake head and left for work. Now he was here, smelling like woodsmoke and maple syrup and looking at you with those doey eyes and all you want to do is press kisses against his adam’s apple until he melts under you and why oh why had you invited people over again…?

“I’m going to make my beautiful girlfriend here something to eat. Would any of you miscreants care for some grub?” Eddie finally turns his attention to your group of friends, who all claim hunger in equal measure, and you follow him into the kitchen.

You watch as he starts assembling a variety of mixing bowls and utensils on the counter, whistling as he goes; you hug your arms against yourself, dragging a sock foot against the tile.

“I can help,” you offer as Eddie kneels beside you to produce a waffle iron from the cabinet by your legs. “I can stir things, or make sides, o-or…”

Eddie’s warm palm is sliding up the back of your calf, causing you to stutter. He nuzzles his nose against your plaid pajama-covered thigh, briefly, like he can’t help it, before standing back up.

“With these hands?” He teases gently, setting the waffle maker down and pulling your hand to his lips. “Nah. Gotta keep my girl soft.”

You let him kiss the back of your hand and you rotate it in his grasp, palm-up now, his lips pressing against the center there, and you try again to get him to let you help, because he just worked a 12-hour shift and you know he must be bone-tired by now.

With your voice barely above a whisper- “I could… get the plates out…”

One final kiss to your palm, and then he’s looking at you with such fondness, calloused thumb tapping where his lips just were. “Does breakfast for dinner strike your fancy, good lady?”

When you nod, he says with affectionate sternness, “Good. Now go sit pretty in the living room and get out of my kitchen.”

So you obey, cozying up to Robin on the couch to help her with the last few presents amid the bickering still taking place between her and Steve. Nat King Cole serenades from the tinny radio speakers above the clattering in the kitchen, and Dustin’s mood improves drastically once El offers to show him the ropes of popcorn stringing, half-tied bows abandoned at the coffee table.

You look up periodically from your tape sticking to check on Eddie- at some point, he’d put his hair in a low bun and tied his flannel around his hips, the heat of the kitchen causing his bangs to go limp. He’s in good spirits despite the sleepiness you know he’s fighting, humming along to the radio while he coaxes perfectly golden waffles from the iron and onto the Charlie Brown-themed plates you two had bought at the thrift store for fifty cents apiece last summer.

He sweeps into the living room with plates of steaming food balanced on his forearms, his stability impeccable and arms deceptively strong from years of hefting shit around in the kitchen. Obviously, you’re the first to get your plate, dropped off with a little kiss to the crown of your head, but no one’s complaining this time around because they’re too busy chewing.

Eddie’s personalized each order, of course- extra syrup to satiate El’s sweet tooth, blueberries baked into Steve’s stack, a side of peanut butter for Robin paired with a thick handled-butterknife.

Eleven looks up from where she sits cross-legged beside Max and says in a voice that leaves no room for disagreement, “You are the best cook in Hawkins.”

Eddie beams at her around a mouthful of waffle, knocking his shoulder into yours lightly- “You hear that, honey? Supergirl-approved chef at your service.”

Sticky plates get scraped clean and pushed aside, a rosy fullness lulling everyone into easy conversation about various holiday plans happening tomorrow. Eddie’s settled into your side on the couch, sliding his hand back and forth absently across your thigh, and you can tell by the vacant stare he’s giving the far wall that he’s running on fumes (though he’d never admit it in front of anyone but you, all too happy to give and give until there’s nothing left).

So you make the call for the both of you, giving a dramatic stretch and yawn- “All right, gang, I’m beat. Let’s call it for tonight and pick back up on Christmas?”

There’s a bustle of activity for the next few minutes; you and Steve hunt down everyone’s winter gear, getting the kids back into their gloves and warm hats while Robin helps Eddie with the dishes. In a flurry of see-you-tomorrows and calls for safe driving, Eddie pulls the front door shut and snicks the top lock closed.

“Finally,” he groans, and you can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles from you with the speed at which he has you caged against the wall, trailing a line of kisses down your throat, his sleepy state seemingly abandoned for a much hornier one.

“Somethin’ funny?” he muses, before sucking at the spot where your shoulder and neck join, your laugh catching and rolling into a gasp instead.

“Didn’t think so,” Eddie chuckles, darkly, against the hollow of your throat, adding a scrape of teeth over the bruise that’s sure to bloom. “You gonna be a good girl and let me have dessert?”

Your brain is already going fuzzy as he bullies his hands underneath your shirt, cold rings sending shivers across your body as they slide against your lower back, the plush curve of your hip, dipping down down down.

“Don’t you wanna-” your voice comes out shaking, interrupted by another gasp as Eddie’s hands find the bare meat of your ass and he squeezes, bordering that fine line between too harsh and too good that he knows you love- “-shower, or clean up a bit? I can run you a bath-”

Eddie slips his denim-clad thigh between yours, and fuck the presure is just right as he helps your core roll over his knee with his solid grip.

“I think…” he purrs low against the shell of your ear, grinning when your breath gets all shallow and quick, “you should come on my fingers like I’ve been dreamin’ about all day. And then we’ll talk about cleaning up.”

He makes a compelling argument. Resigned, you let your head thunk back against the wall as he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down your legs as he goes.

You’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, which might’ve been embarrassing except for the fact that Eddie’s told you before how much it gets him going, evident now by the outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans.

“All for me, princess?” he murmurs, face so close to your clothed core that you can feel his breath.

He gets like this sometimes, downright reverent, and you know any attempt you make to hide from him will just wind him up more, so you fight that instinct to balk as he parts your thighs with tender, worshipful hands, and instead whisper “Yeah, Eds. All for you.”

He hums in approval, nosing at the front of your panties, hooking his long, deft fingers into the sides of them before tugging them down your thighs and tossing them aside.

“There she is,” he croons, as if it’s just him and your pussy now. “Don’t cry for me, baby, I’m here now, gonna take care of you…”

You jolt forward into his grasp as he slides his middle finger against your sticky folds, your hands seeking purchase and ending up in the soft curls at the top of his head that didn’t make it to the bun at the nape of his neck.

“All day, I work over a hot griddle,” Eddie mutters as he hooks your knee over his shoulder. “I make shit wages and shittier tips,” he continues, monologuing, the smug son of a bitch, his breath fanning over your now-exposed core, one hand coming up to rest on the softness of your stomach, pinning you in place right where he wants you- “And you know what makes it all worth it, baby?”

He pauses just before his mouth makes contact with your pussy, flicking his gaze up to you to assess the damage he’s done so far, his pupils blown wide with lust, nearly eclipsing the soft brown of his irises. You’re panting now, in little fits and gasps, doing your best to be gentle with the weaved grasp you have on his hair.

“You,” he says, before closing the gap and sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, back arching off the wall, seizing at his hair and unconsciously tugging his mouth tighter against you.

Eddie hums again, the vibrations sparking more pleasure against your throbbing clit. You could probably come from this stimulation alone but Eddie isn’t wasting any time, hungry for you to fall apart for him as he works one of his dextrous fingers into your dripping core.

You cry out wordlessly as he finds that spot with the pad of his finger, stroking against it, purling his tongue around your clit in tandem with the thrust of his hands, adding another finger as you clench around him.

He’s only been at it for a few minutes but you’re already dangerously close to the edge, lust burning and twisting in your stomach, your body shuddering in his hold.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he’s saying into the juncture of your thigh, pleading- with you or your cunt, hard to say- as his hand on your stomach slips down, using the thumb of that hand to press your clit against your pubic bone, a filthy slick grind that has you whimpering expletives.

“Fuck, Eddie, fu-uck…”

One of your legs is still over his shoulder, thighs spasming with your impending orgasm, and from your higher vantage point you watch as Eddie’s hand that isn’t busy between your legs drops from the outside of your thigh to his own lap.

He grinds shamelessly into the heel of his hand, rutting his clothed cock into his palm, chasing his own high as he adds another finger into your clenching core, setting a brutal pace that matches the speed at which he’s moving against himself.

It’s this picture- Eddie, on his knees, mouth on your clit, touching himself- that is your undoing. Your orgasm is blinding, crashing through you like a wave, curling the top half of your body around Eddie’s head as you cradle his skull against your core.

By the sound of it, Eddie’s coming, too, moans buried into your cunt as he wrings out the last of your orgasm, the squelch of your walls cinched taut around his fingers.

You have to physically push his head away with the tips of your fingers to get him to ease up- you know he could easily go another two, three rounds before being satisfied but your limbs are going weak and trembly and you want him close, that rush of endorphins leaving you hazy.

And Eddie knows, instantly, ‘cuz he always does, so good at reading you. He lets your leg slip from his shoulder and stands to kiss you, the tangy taste of you on his lips.

“You’re so hot,” he says, thunking his foreheard against yours, holding you close. “I meant what I said, y’know- think about you all day. Gotta take trips to the walk-in freezer just to stop the boners.”

He looks overly pleased when you laugh, giddily, and soothes his hands up and down your bare arms.

“You gonna shower with me? Didn’t even getta see the girls,” he laments, dropping his gaze to the front of your shirt, rucked-up from his wandering hands but still very much on.

“Anything for you, chef,” you indulge, giggling again as Eddie gives a kiss each to the tops of your breasts.

_____________________

if you’re reading this PLEASE know my anons/requests are open I am in desperate need of more ST mutuals!!!

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #stranger things smut #linecook!eddie Munson #linecook!eddie

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starry-hughes · 1 year

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red, not blue

mat barzal x reader

summary: you wear someone else's jersey to mat's game

requested: yes!

warnings: implies sex, pouty/jealous mat, reader wears nico hischier's jersey

You weren’t doing it to spite Mat or anything. You were raised a Devils fan. It was in your blood to be a fan of New Jersey, even if your boyfriend was playing for the New York Islanders. Mat was a jealous type. Not a toxic jealous person, but he liked knowing that you were his. He had dealt with too many past girlfriends who used him for his status rather than his love.

He knew you were a Devils fan. Jokingly banning you from wearing red on nights the Islanders were playing. Mat loved seeing you in his clothes and loved it even more when you wore his jersey with his name on the back.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Mat questioned.

The Islanders were playing the Devils for the last time of the season. Mat had just returned from injury and had missed a lot of games, and he was excited to get back to playing. Your parents were in town for the game and were wearing Devils jerseys themselves despite their future son-in-law playing for the opposing team.

You were going to the rink early with Mat. A frown presented itself on your face, “My jersey?”

Mat had given you more than enough jerseys over the years that the two of you were together. Mat scowled at the red jersey and even more at the last name on your back that wasn’t his. “The guys are going to chirp the hell out of me,” Mat mumbled as the two of you left the apartment.

“My parents are wearing Devils jerseys too,” you explained, “you know my parents are diehard Devs fans.”

Mat messed with the cuffs of his suit as the two of you stepped into the elevator, “I just thought my own girlfriend would wear my jersey. Not another team’s captain’s jersey.” Mat crossed his arms at the sight of Nico Hischier’s last name plastered on your back. It was an even bigger kick in the stomach when Mat and Nico shared the number thirteen.

He shouldn’t have been playing an aggressive game, but Mat was angry. Looking up in the box where you and your parents were, seeing red, literally. He was playing aggressively, even taking a penalty, and shooting at the net whenever the puck was in his possession. The anger worked. Mat Barzal ended the night with a hat trick. You were excited for your boyfriend as he was named the first star of the game. Your parents, you, and Mat went out for a late dinner after the game. Mat, even though he was still living off the high of his good night, was still a bit jealous that you weren’t wearing his jersey.

“Well, Mat,” your dad started, “looks like we will have to invest in Islanders jerseys soon.” After dinner, your parents went back to their hotel for the night, leaving early the next morning. Mat and you returned to your apartment late. He was still brooding over the fact you wore another team’s jersey, “I’m going to shower.”

You nodded, putting his puck that was saved from tonight with the rest of Mat’s pucks from his hockey career. Mat showered, hoping that when he exited, you would have changed, but you had gotten busy with cleaning up the apartment and getting Mat’s stuff ready for his short road trip that was coming up.

Groaning when he entered the room, he was making his way over to you, hands falling to your hips. “Please, take the jersey off. I can’t stand the sight of the red. This is my night,” he pouted. A playful smile grew on your face, “You jealous Barzy?”

Usually, he would never admit he was jealous, but tonight was different. “Yes! Yes, I’m jealous! My girlfriend is parading around in another man’s jersey, and it’s not my last name on your back! I got a hat trick! A hat trick, and you are still wearing red!”

You listened to his tantrum before pulling off the jersey, revealing the Islanders shirt you had been wearing underneath the Devils jersey the whole time. Mat’s name and number are plastered on the back of the t-shirt. Mat’s heart soared. “Y-you had that on the whole time?” he stuttered.

“You didn’t think I wasn’t going to support you at all tonight, did you?”

Mat squeezed your hips before picking you up, your legs quickly circling his torso as a squeal left your mouth. “God, I love you,” Mat confessed as his lips found yours. He blindly walked the two of you to the bedroom, his lips still on yours.

In the morning, Mat woke up to you still wearing his Islanders shirt that he forced you to keep on last night. You were awake, tiredly scrolling through your phone, trying to ignore the soreness in your legs. Mat rolled over, kissing your shoulder softly but carefully enough not to make more marks on your body. “Morning baby,” his deep morning voice called out.

You leaned over, kissing his head, before returning to your phone.

He stood from the bed, walking over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “Hey Maty!” you called out. “Yeah?” his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“I’m thinking of ordering a Jack Hughes jersey. What do you think?” you asked, a joking smile on your face.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #ny islanders imagine #islanders imagine

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2-dsimp · 13 days

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Scroll through your tumblr and saw Fredrico, and I just wanna play with his hair so badly. It looks so soft and long and nice and I would just love to run my hands through it, brush it, wash it, just touch his hair in general. PS, you have amazing OCs and are really talented and adorable.

A/n: Thank youuu o(≧v≦)o

Fredrico would greatly appreciate you grooming him since often times. The bat does forget to self groom his hair since it’s not like he’s the type to go outdoors.

Instead of just hermiting away within his cave for a couple of years. So it’s bound to be matted and very tangled although it’ll be very sliky soft like the fur off a Persian cat.

At first the Devilbat will be very shy and embarrassed at the state his hair is in. And would try to cover it up with a hat or beanie he found somewhere on the streets. Not wanting to show you his bad side since he wants to look the best for his mate.

But at seeing your insistence on taking care of his hair. Reluctantly Fredrico would relent and let you groom him, whilst hiding half of his face under his worn down scarf. With a tiny crooked smile on his face. As he preens into your attentive affection.

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planetharrie · 1 year

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Muddy Puddles

Also available to read on my Wattpad @PlanetHarrie

In which Harry’s go-to rainy day activities are rinsed dry when little Opal sees incredible puddles outside and the urge to jump in them ends in disaster.. 🌧️🧥🪟

⭐️

“Dad, I’m b-o-ored!”

Harry sat back on the soles of his feet, and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I know, Love.” He sympathised. A hand of his brushed his matted hair back from his face and he shared a small smile with his 5 year-old. “How about we. . . do some colouring?”

“We already did that!” Opal squeaked from her spot by the lounge window.

That was true. The current rainstorm outside had caged the father and daughter inside their small townhouse for the day. They’d scrambled their way through Opal’s Lego boxes, completed three jigsaw puzzles, coloured and played with Opal’s naked Barbies for an hour before she’d chucked her dolls to the floor and decided she’d rather gaze out the window.

Harry’s legs were now far too numb for his liking and he glanced around the living room floor that was cluttered with their discarded rainy-day activities.

“Well. . . How ‘bout we watch a film? ‘M a bit tired, Love.” He blew out a breath and his cherry lips rippled ever so slightly. He glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece; it was four P.M and he knew he needed to start getting tea ready. “We can have some din-dins while we watch?”

Opal pouted and squirmed in the armchair she was using to look out the condensed windows. Her pigtails bounced when her feet hopped onto the carpet.

“No, Dada! That’s b-o-ring.”

“Opal. .” Harry whined. That was when Opal’s little round face suddenly change and her lips perked up into a mischievous smile, as if she’d had an eureka moment. But Harry had already read her swirling mind; “We’re not going outside, Baby.”

Opal answered with puppy eyes and her blonde eyebrows raised. She crawled up onto her Dad’s lap like a cat and took the material of his t-shirt into his tiny fists. Harry twirled one of her bunches in his finger with his mouth drew in an unimpressed line.

“Darling, you could get ill; it’s very cold and soggy out there.”

“But!—But, I’ll wear a coat and a hat!” Her little voice pleaded with excitement. “I want to jump in the puddles, Papa! Like Peppa!”

The two shared a look between each other, Harry’s left eye twitching as he fought against his little girl’s pleading.

“Oh alright,” Harry eventually gave in, earning a squeal and a choking-hug around his neck from Opal, “But you must wear your boots and hat, Opie. We don’t want you getting another nasty cold!”

Ten minutes and a few spoonfuls of yoghurt later, Opal was stood in the hallway like a little human marshmallow. Harry had bundled her up in leggings and a thick jumper with her raincoat zipped-up to her chin and her knitted beanie slumped over her brows. The hood of her mustard-coloured raincoat was thrown over her hat which only showed her pale, little face. She had purple gloves coating her hands and Peppa Pig wellies on her feet.

Opal stomped around in circles a few times, testing out her new boots as she waited for Harry to put on his coat.

“It’s raining a lot out there, Opie.” Harry warned lightly as he slung on his own raincoat and threw the hood over his head.

“But puddles are fun!” Opal jumped, waving her short arms in the air. “‘S fine because I have my raincoat on, so I won’t get wet.”

Harry knew she and him were going to get soaked but Opal seemed too eager to go out in the rain for him to say no. With reluctance, Harry turned the key, unlocked the latch and opened the front door.

They were met with the overstimulating noise of rain pelting down onto the ground and Opal stepped back a little.

“You sure, Opal?. .”

The 5 year-old seemed to pause and think for a moment before she looked up at her Dad and nodded. “Hold me, please.”

Harry picked his little angel up and held her tightly in his arms as they stepped out, the front door shutting behind them.

“Puddles! Dad I see a puddle!” Harry followed Opal’s glove-covered finger to the (giant) puddle that had accumulated at the side of the pavement curb. He placed her down and Opal ran down the short path and opened the garden gate.

Harry lurched forward with his arm stretched out to grab her just in time when she nearly got knocked over by a postman jogging past with his red, saturated satchel bouncing on his hip.

“Sorry, mate!” The postman called back.

Opal did not hesitate to bend her knees and jump into the brown puddle of water, instantly soaking her pink leggings. She squealed and stomped in the puddle.

“I’m all wet now!”

“You sure are!” Harry called, eventually exiting the small front-garden and stood at the curb. A bath is definitely going to be needed before bedtime is what he decided.

“Daddy it’s your turn!” Opal grinned up at her Dad.

“N-No, Daddy doesn’t want to get wet, Baby.” He grimaced at the dark patches of water soaking into the material of her leggings. Harry reminded himself that he was getting soaked by the rain anyway stood into the middle of the pavement; he may as well join in with his little girl.

He told Opal to move over slightly and his feet splashed into the middle with an impressive jump and filthy water spurted everywhere; some drops landed on Opal’s face and she whined.

She reached her hand up to her face to wipe the water, forgetting that her gloves were soaked and made her face even more damp. “Dad. . .”

Her face crumpled and she let out a cry.

“Hey.. There’s no need for tears, Love.” Harry cooed, stepping out of the puddle. He paused, unsure how to comfort her; he couldn’t exactly hug her or stroke her hair. Instead, he rubbed her small back and bent down to Opal’s level. “It’s not very nice out here, is it?”

The rain hadn’t stopped pelting down from the sky and Opal’s lips began to quiver with the cold. Harry couldn’t bare the thought of her getting cold or sick because of him, so he led them back inside. Opal stripped-off in the hallway, her clothes in a soggy pile at the door, and Harry wrapped her up in a towel that was drying on the radiator.

“Are you ready to watch a film now, Darling?” He whispered softly. He dabbed Opal’s face and hair dry as she nodded with a pout on her face. “I think it’s better to go jump in puddles after the rain stops. Shall we do that next time?”

Opal nodded again but cracked a small smile this time.

Harry put some potato waffles in the oven and heated up a pan of baked beans for Opal’s dinner. He brought it in on a tray and as he sat down next to her little body on the sofa, a sudden sneeze shook her frame.

“Achoo!”

They both looked at each other; Opal glanced innocently up at her Dad, waiting to be offered a spoon of beans. Harry covered up his expression of worry mixed with a grimace with a kind smile. Perhaps the small trip out into the rain was a silly idea; neither of them had enjoyed the 30 seconds of storm exposure. But they both learned a lesson and now know that puddles after the rain passes, is a lot more fun.

⭐️

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johnny-coxville · 2 years

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How about a smutty one where the reader works on set and everyone on set is talking about how hot she is and it makes johnny jealous so he takes her into his trailer and makes sure they all know she's his??

I took some creative liberty with this, and threw in a little extra. A long fic for you guys this time.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Johnny Knoxville x fem!reader nsfw

♡

Bite me

Today was a huge day for Johnny. It was a extremely hot day, and he was doing one his most wicked stunts. The Anaconda Ball Pit. All of the guys showed up. Some to watch, and others to hop right in with him.

Considering it was so hot today, you decided on a cooler outfit. A simple white tank, and a pair of black shorts. Accompanied by a old pair of Johnny's Converse, that were just a bit too big on you.

You decided on fishnets with your outfit, just because you liked the way Johnny would peer in your direction. Slipping them over your legs before tying your matted laces.

Johnny hadn't even seen your outfit until you were on set. Shooting you a smug smile. He was already in his odd outfit. His aviators accompanied his sailors hat and rainbow colored suspenders.

The guys were huddled around chit chatting before approaching Manny to start the stunt. Steve-o approached you, immediately looking you up and down. He whistled, followed with his signature goofy laugh. "Damn! Johnny's a real lucky lad. Might have to share a piece with me." He said looking to grab Chris.

You blushed. "Stop it Stephen." You giggled. Steve-o grabbed Pontius's shoulder. Whispering something into his ear and snickering. Chris smiled looking you up and down. He nodded his head whispering something back to Steve-o.

Johnny walked over, startling you by dropping his heads on your shoulders. "What are you guys doing over here. Hm?" He said looking at Steve-o and Chris with a sneer. The guys had followed Johnny over. Waiting for the stunt to start. Chris and Steve-o just giggled.

Bam chipped in. "Come the hell on. Hand her the camera and let's get this shit over with." Bam turned to the gear, looking through it for your labeled camera.

Knoxville's fingers dug into the back of your shoulders. He leaned into your ear whispering to you. "What were you three talking about?" He said in a sweet tone. You froze up a little bit.

Johnny was always the type to be extremely protective of you. Knowing how the guys were, they would constantly flirt with you. Sometimes to just plain piss Johnny off.

"They were complimenting my outfit. That's all." You said in a whisper. "Mmmm.. the outfit you wore for me? For my eyes to tear apart?" He said letting go of your shoulders. You didn't get the chance to squeak out a response.

Bam shoved the camera into your arms, they were nearly prepared for the shooting. He shot you a smile, as Johnny glared at you. Bam whispering something you couldn't entirely makeout, but Johnny didn't look the most happy.

You strapped your camera around and headed towards the ball pit. Standing right next to Erehen and Dave. Two of the most respectable guys you knew. Johnny eyed your every movement at that point. Not looking directly at you, but throwing side glances. Speaking to Manny about the danger of the stunt.

Dave gave you a nudge and smiled. "You look really really pretty today. I promise I don't mean that in a creepy way either." He chuckled. Erehen chimed in with the same energetic smile. "I agree! Johnny's Converse really fit you well too. You look beautiful." He said resting his hand on your shoulder a moment. You smiled wide with a small laugh. "You guys are sweethearts." You said only to catch Johnny's stern gaze. You smiled at him, though he kept his straight forward expression.

Steve-o had come back to you guys, of course adding in a few last words before he was shoed from the scene. "Nah. She's fucking gorgeous. Real fuckable face and ass. Man I could just-" Before Steve-o could finish his graphic detailing, Tremaine grabbed his shoulders.

"Enough Steve-o. You're not even part of this bit. So you can step back unless you're filming." He said walking him off. You sighed. Adjusting yourself to get ready to film. Dave and Erehen just standing to be in the peanut gallery.

Once the bit started you filmed. Watching the gruesome sight unfold. You cringed as you watched your boyfriend's wrist receive a wicked bite. Immediately after the cameras quit filming, he ran off set for a medic.

You sat your camera back down, running after him. He didn't want his arms cleaned, just getting the wound cleaned. Guessing it was some kind of war badge he'd brag about at the bar. Wrapping the bite throughly tight. The blood dried onto his arms, having dripped down all the way to his shirt.

Once he left the medic tent his eyes caught yours. You ran up to him of course, throwing a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you. Staining the back of your shirt with the last bit of undried blood. He let go of you, stepping a foot back. "So. Do you just let every guy you see fuck you with their eyes?" He said crossing his arms.

You gave a puzzled look. "PJ what are you talking about." You said crossing your arms aswell. He always got jealous over the guys, and they usually knew it. Steve-o on the other hand just had a tendency of being a dog.

"I'm talking about you not swatting away the guys! They've been talking about you all day. Teasing me. Then I see you smiling it up while they praise you?" He said cocking an eyebrow. You shifted on your foot. Giving a frown.

"They're just being nice Johnny. Stop it. You know I only dress like this for you." You said with half a smile. You knew he wasn't genuinely angry with you. Though he did get jealous. And when he got jealous, he only had one way to prove his point.

"Mmm..." He nodded his head. Arms still folded. "Do you want them to watch you get fucking marked by me then? Do you want them to watch me destroy your begging pussy with my tongue?" He said leaning in closer to you.

Your stomach dropped. A complete switch in mood. "No.." You said softly. Turning away from him. "Johnny I'm going in the trailer, it's really hot out." You said walking towards the farther back of the lot. Spotting out his trailer.

You knew what you were doing by now. Setting yourself up to be pleasured by him. Playing stupid to ultimately get your way. He followed close behind you.

You opened the trailer door, pretending he isn't behind you, acting startled when he grabs a hold of it. Following you through the door.

Once you were inside he immediately grabbed your waist. Pulling your back against him. His grip bruising your sides. He leaned into your ear. Just breathing his hot breath. "You're mine. Not theirs. You're going to show them who owns you. The man who makes your legs shake.." He said biting into the side of your neck.

You let out a sudden moan. His teeth grinding into your neck. He moved his lips around your throat. Sucking spots into you. Making sure each one was aggressive and harder then the next. He wanted sloppy markings littered all over you.

You squirmed under his touch. Trying to break free from his tight hold, though he only held you closer. His love marks hurt. Though brought an odd type of pleasure your way.

One he was finished with your neck, he pulled his face back. Not letting go of you, but looking down at you. You looked up at him. Still sporting his glasses and hat. You removed his aviators with your free hand, and folded them. Sliding them onto the collar of his shirt.

He didn't give a reaction. Just keeping his eyes locked with yours. "Go on. Sit down. I'm not done with you." He said letting go of his death tight grip. You sighed. Chills running down your body.

"Any part of your pretty little body they look at, is going to me covered by me." He said bending down to the couch. He was on his knee's in front of you. Prying your semi clothed legs apart. "The door isn't locked either. Let's hope no one comes in and see's your pathetic little face."

He said running his hands up and down your thighs. His hands dipping into your inner thighs. He grabbed at the waist of your shorts. Undoing the button and tugging the zipper. You lifted yourself, and he tugged your shorts off.

Exposing the fact that you chose to wear no underwear beneath, just your fishnets. He smirked. Pulling your shorts from off of your shoes. He kept them on, spreading your legs once more.

Making bigger holes in your nets, he bit on your inner thighs. Sucking at your soft meat. You kept a hand over your mouth to keep from making noise. Though that aggravated him. Bring his hand up from your thigh, he grabbed your wrist.

"Don't be afraid to make noise. I want to hear how much you really love me. How good I make you feel." He said continuing to give small kisses. Closer and closer to your throbbing core. Biting marks into your sensitive flesh. The marks on your neck already beginning to show color.

Your mouth let out small desperate noises as he inched closer. Finally he was at your core. His face just a few inches away. His breath was warm against you. Sending shivers throughout your body.

He spread your legs as wide as possible. Pulling you lower in the process. Your back slumped on the couch. His fingers reached down to your center. Using two of them to rip the net. He ripped a sizeable hole.

Big enough to reach your begging center. Admittedly you were a little pissed. These were your favorite fishnets and now they were torn. Though that didn't matter all too much. Johnny's face was dipped in-between your legs.

Hot breath beckoning your hips to jolt forward. Though you waited in anticipation. His tongue finding your clit his lips attached. Sucking and flicking his tongue.

You were immediately overun with pleasure. Squirming under his fast touch. His hands holding your thighs down. Pressing you into the couch. He held you back from moving under his touch. Pulling his lips off. He flicked his tongue around your entire pussy.

Changing his pace every now and then. Then switching to just giving you striped licks. Your hands tugged at his hair. Attempting to suppress your moans. He chuckled beneath you. Enjoying every moment he could taste you.

Your breath hitched as you felt your orgasm creep closer. "Johnnnyyy. Please! I'm so close." You begged out. His tongue slid around. Stopping entirely. You gasped from the sudden loss of motion. Opening your eyes.

Your eyes opening only to see the sinister grin of Johnny's face. Letting go of his hair you frowned. Displaying a confused look. "Do you think you deserve to cum on my tongue sweetheart?" He said getting off his knees. He wiped away the slick on his face. Dipping his fingers into his mouth.

"I'm still mad at you. The way they look at you in that slutty little outfit? You just let them stare." He said in a questioning tone.

You shook your head no, but this wouldn't satisfy him. "Come on now. Get up. I want you bent over my knee." He said with a beckoning finger.

You slowly got up, your legs having a hard time keeping you up. Still completely feeling the effects of him. With that, he switched places with you. Sitting down and spreading apart his legs.

You turned on your heal. Reluctantly laying across his two knee's. He groaned as you got into position. Rubbing at your ass cheeks.

You lifted your ass, arching your back a small bit. "How many of the guys flirted with you. Hm?" He said giving you a hard smack. The pain ringing through your ass. "Steve-o.." He pulled back and slapped you again. Harder this time.

You let out a squeak. "Shh shh shh.. You let this happen sweetie. Chriss.." He let out with a smile. Your ass stung, ringing through your entire body. Though it felt amazing.

He smacked twice consecutively now. The hardest he had. You let out a cry and he rubbed your printed ass. "Dave and Erehen. Is there anyone else I don't know about?" He said with a small chuckle. "No Johnny.." You said trying to wriggle out of the position.

He didn't grab at you, letting your sore body free. He sat content with what he had done to your ass. He stood up himself and removed his sailor hat. Removing the glasses tucked into his shirt, and pulling his shirt over his head.

A few knocks came from outside, Johnny's head perking up. He shot a look at you, then back at the door.

"Who is it?" Johnny called out. Normally he would've stayed silently. Though he had some other unexpected plans to unfold.

"It's Chris! We weren't sure where you went." He said through the door. Steve-o chimed in presumably next to him. "Yeah dude! That snake bite was fucking gnarly." He said louder then Chris.

Johnny looked over to you and smirked. "Why are you looking at me like that!" You whispered over to him. He shifted his eyes away, back towards the door.

"How about you two come in here." He said opening the trailer door. You immediately got into the corner to try and hide your naked bottom half.

They obliged and entered the trailer. "No, no, no. Come here sweetheart." Johnny said stepping away for a moment.

Both the guys had confused expressions. Unsure to why Johnny invited them in, and why he was shirtless. Assuming he was going to play some sick prank on the both. Johnny grabbed at you in the corner. Whispering in your ear. "You're going to show them how much of a slut you are for me. I'm going to fuck you, and they're going to watch." He said, two hands firmly on your shoulders.

Your face went cold, but the heat in your body spiked. Was he really going to do this? No doubt.

You stepped out, practically being dragged. Chris and Steve-o both starring. Mouth agape. Your fishnets did zero justice in covering any part of your body.

They stood speechless a moment, before Johnny spoke up. "How about you guys stay awhile? She wanted some company while she gets her pussy fucked." He said beginning to undo his belt.

They eyed the markings on your body carefully. Knowing Johnny meant business. Chris was silent. A bit unsure of what to do. "Don't worry guys. Her pussy is mine, but feel free to shoot your loads onto her. She knows who she belongs to."

He said dropping his pants to his ankles. Steve-o immediately took up on the offer. Giving himself a quick rub through his pants. You didn't object the situation, admittedly extremely turned on by the ordeal.

You pulled your tank off, exposing the upper half of your body. Your breasts free from the scratchy material of your tank top.

You stood awkwardly in just your nets, basically entirely naked. Once Johnny was completely naked, he sat on his couch once more. Patting his thighs to get you on.

It wasn't the most comfortable position. But you straddled his thighs. Your back facing towards him. You saddled him reverse cowgirl. You hovered over his length.

He slowly guided himself inside the makeshift hole in your fishnets. You lowered yourself as much as you could to take him entirely. His cock completely inside of you. Resting a moment. It slid in easily due to the pooling wetness you had created.

Once you were adjusted, you jerked your hips a small bit. Admitting a small laugh from Knoxville's chest. He let out a small low grown before he grabbed at your hips. Bouncing you slowly up and down.

Chris watched intently as he stood. Stroking himself through his camo shorts. His imprint extremely visible due to his size. You weren't sure how long you would last like this. Between the feeling of his cock and two of your closest friends watching you get fucked. Johnny's rythem was deep and slow. Torturing you with his body. He whispered soft things into your ear as you did your best to look away from the two men. Feeling shameful everytime you saw them.

"You're such a little fucking whore. You're going to take all three of our loads and then cum all over my dick?" He said massaging your waist as the two of you rocked eachother.

Steve-o had completely taken himself out of his pants, a fist full of his length in hand. Slowly jerking himself. He watched with a smile. Knowing exactly where he wanted to shoot himself.

Chris had pulled himself down to his boxers. Still just groping himself through the fabric. Johnny's hands reached from your waist to your breasts.

Picking up his pace a bit he was sloppy. Not holding you in place. Instead squeezing and kneading at your bouncing breasts.

Steve-o stepped a small bit closer. Chris getting in closer aswell. Chris pulling his length out of his boxers.

Johnny moved his hands back to your hips. Driving you down hard on his cock. Rough bounces at a high speed. He groaned, as you begged him to fuck you.

"I knew you would enjoy this you fucking whore. I'm going to fuck you until you know who owns your pretty little body." He said shifting his position just slightly. His cock hitting a entire new area.

Your pleasure was spiked, and you let out a struggled moan. By now both Steve-o and Chris were working at themselves. Watching your used body. You could feel yourself coming undone. Johnny relentlessly slamming into you. His groans turning into guteral growls.

Steve-o was the first to go, letting out a small groan and leaking out his load. Johnny chuckled. You could pay no attention, you were only focus on the insane pleasure your boyfriend brought you.

It was nearly too much to handle. His noises fueling you. As you began to twitch and convulse around him, Chris stepped forward quickly. Shooting his load onto your breasts the best he could.

As he did you yelled. Johnny pulling on your hips as his orgasm ripped through. "You're going to be fucking leaking with my cum bitch." He groaned out as you felt the warmth of his load fill inside. A building pressure inside. He held himself in deep, and you attempted to ride out the last of your orgasm.

He removed one hand from your hips, pulling at your hair. Snapping your head back. Into your ear he whispered. "Now you KNOW. Who fucking owns you. That's my fucking pussy to cum inside of. You're mine." He said letting go of your hair.

Chris and Steve-o fixing themselves up. Still watching with fascination. Once Johnny was satisfied, you both struggled to untangle from one another. Once you were off of him, his cum seeped from inside.

He pressed the last bit of cum from his tip and stood up wobbly. "You two can go now, unless you want to clean this off my dick." He said letting out a small laugh. Chris let out his last words and opened the trailer door. Steve-o needing to make his last remark. "We need to do this more often. That's the best fucking load I've ever had." He said shooting you a smile.

You just rolled your eyes. Watching him leave the trailer. Once you two were alone again, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips and smiled.

"I love you sweetheart. Hope you don't hurt too bad." He said tracing his fingers around the markings he left on your body. You shook your head. "I love you too Johnny." You said finding your clothes on the floor.

You headed towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. Walking back onto set would feel extremely shameful. Though Johnny would be extremely proud with his handy work.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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sashi-ya · 1 year

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𝑥𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡; 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ⋆˙⊹ Shuuhei Hisagi x f! reader. nsfw

request: @spitfire-of-the-sea asked: Hiii! Could I ask for "all I want for christmas is you" with Shuuhei please? :D With female!reader, who is about DONE waiting for the idiot to figure out that she's 150% into him? :D NSFW would be great, but whatever comes to your mind is fine by me Thank you! <3 | tw: nsfw. first time together. love confessions. vaginal. oral. teasing. | wc: 2.2k | masterlist | taglist: @zella07 @jin-supremacy01 @stygianoir @alexkanroji |

“Look at him, he is once again passing out over the table… when will he ever realize he should stop giving women everything? He is such a simp” you grunt, annoyed at the tattooed dark-haired Shinigami.

“Are you jealous, (Name)?” your friend asks, laughing at your heated cheeks.

“Of course, I am. But that’s not the point” you bark, taking a shot of your sake.

Every Friday, the youngest -and not so young- Shinigami, visit their favourite bar after their work time is over. A lot of the times most of them end up wasted, and nobody cares because the stress of being part of the Gotei 13 kinda justifies it.

But, tonight is a little different and there you are. Once again watching at your crush serve his girl friends in an endless cycle of simping and being used. You are not mad at the girls, though. Is just that, Shuhei never realized how much you are into him…

However, things will have to change. Either if he likes you or not, you are gonna tell him the truth. And what’s the most romantic night of the year -besides valentine’s-? Christmas night.

Everything is beautifully decorated for Christmas, red and green and also warm fairy lights. Everybody is there, even those captains who aren’t really fond of partying. Sake can’t miss, some have already passed out, others are about to. Shuhei, being one of them, looks at the girls with pain in his silver eyes.

You, who are lost in how much you love him, walk towards him. You have made a decision, and, in the case he says no it would be ok. But you can’t wait anymore.

“Shuhei Hisagi!” you scream, hitting the table where he lies, melted as a popsicle under the sun in summer. He jolts, scared. His eyes widen; Shuhei is extremely weak to dominant women. However, he never ever once shown any little sign of simping towards you… and you have never understood why… what does the other girls have that you don’t?

“What, (Name)?! you scared me!” he asks, with the tip of his nose completely blushed and a falling Santa hat on his spiky hair.

“We need to talk. Right now” you say, standing your ground and pulling him from the hem of his shihakusho.

Every lieutenant and officer, including his captain Kensei, laugh. They all know but him, and finally the silly kid that once stood crying in front of a hollow will have his next maturing lesson.

You drag him to the outside of the bar, none of you are wearing anything to cover your bodies from the snowy weather. You don’t need it, your blood boils from excitement and need to speak your truth. Shuhei’s skin, however, burns unexpectedly because of your touch… but does he show any sign of it? Not at all. Still.

“Wha- WHAT is going on?!” the Shinigami asks you, once you have left him on the ground and you are standing right before him with your arms crossed.

You take some air. It seemed easier when you were thinking about this moment, than letting those words out now. “I- I- I need to tell you something” you stutter, with eyes that bounce from the bridge of his nose to the 69 tattooed on his face.

“O-ok. Tell me, then” he barely mumbles, biting the insides of his mouth.

“I can’t stand the way you keep acting like the mat with every woman in the Seireitei cleans their shoes. Why do you have to simp over every one of them and… why…”

“Why…? Hisagi asks, shyly.

“Why don’t you act that way towards me, then? Am I not a beautiful woman like the rest? Huh?” you claim, protesting, with some tears in your eyes.

Shuhei looks at you with his lips semi open, and a worried look. He suddenly grabs you by your waist pulling you closer to his chest. “Don’t be silly…” he mumbles, hugging you tightly.

You are absolutely confused. But either way, you enjoy the manly cologne of his warm skin while you nuzzle on his chest.

“I act that way with you, because you are way more important than any other woman to me. You are more than beautiful, (Name)” he whispers, placing his hand on your head to protect your hair from the snow falling.

You smile softly, looking up at him. “I really like you, Hisagi” you tell him, with your chin resting over his chest.

“You- do? For real?” he asks, stuttering and widening his plumb eyes. You are sure he might bathe you in blood coming from his nose, but he doesn’t. And after his cheeks have become as red as tomatoes, he giggles. “You- YOU LIKE ME?” he repeats, lifting you up from your waist.

You laugh; this is the Hisagi you like the most. Silly boy… “Yes… All I want for Christmas is you” you tell him, planting a sweet kiss right in between his collarbones.

He shivers to your touch; he wasn’t expecting a kiss. “You- you…” he stutters, brushing your hair back with anxious motions.

“What? You wanna ask something, Mr. Shuhei?” you joke, tracing a line with your fingers up to the base of his neck. Hisagi takes his grey eyes off yours with embarrassment, of course he wants something; and it’s not asking, but perhaps kissing and all the things that follow…

He is too flustered to speak, and his tongue becomes tied, but it is your lips the ones who free him. Joining your mouths, the first peck of many is given.

At first his eyebrows lift, but then, no more than a few seconds after, it is him who kisses you deeply and passionately with those kisses that make you lift your leg up. And when you two had already too much of your curious friends peeking through the door of the bar, both begin to walk away.

Of course, his hand takes yours. Cause passion and romanticism goes well for Hisagi. And for you, too.

Running away with him, it’s hard to find a place for both to be alone. However, the urges of keep kissing each other are too big to dismiss the need. “Should we go to my or your room?” you ask, making the poor Shinigami become even more blushed than before.

“R-room?” he asks, stuttering. “Whe-wherever you feel more comfortable” he continues, looking away, with a sweaty hand despite how cold is.

“Yours, I wanna know how it looks” you chime, truth is that him being a lieutenant makes him have a room for his own while you have to sleep at the barracks as you are an officer.

Soon, and with Hisagi praying the Soul King for Kensei not to see you two passing, you finally reach his home at the 9th squad installations.

“Please, don’t make any sound until we get into my room” Shuhei asks, embarrassed and acting like a teenager sneaking a girl into his room. -After all it was exactly what he was doing-

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t want Muguruma Taicho to scold you” you giggle, kissing his tattooed cheek sweetly.

He takes his hands to his face, probably trying to stop a nosebleed for the tenth time tonight and both sneak into his room.

The place looks pretty tidy, and despite some magazines that shouldn’t be exposed to the underage audience, there is nothing wrong with it. Some training supplies, a picture of him when he was a kid with Kensei and another one with Kira posing almost… naked? Who took those pictures after all? And why? In any case it makes you laugh, and you make a mental memo to ask him later for a copy.

“So… welcome to my room” he says, scratching the back of his head.

“Thank you, can I sit in your bed?” you ask, taking your waraji off and tying your hair up. Of course, such motion kills the last two braincells holding for dear life in his own brain, and you could swear even steam comes out from the crown of his head.

“Wh- why are you… why are you tying your hair?” he asks, with widen eyes.

You can’t help but laugh, the poor man has his brain fried and can only think in one thing: your lips around his dick. And, honestly you, too. He has waited for this for a long time… so, why wait?

“You wanna know, Shuhei?” you ask, coming closer to him. He hits his ass against the little table where he probably writes some stuff for the Seireitei newspaper as his hands grip tightly to the wooden surface.

He nods, swallowing.

“Good boy…” you moan, kneeling right in front of him so that your face gets to his crotch’s height. Your soft fingers tap playfully over his already growing bulge and it’s a matter of seconds for you to untie the white ribbon that holds his hakama pants properly around his hipbones.

He shivers and bites his lower lip. You mimic his expression, with a sexy and deadly smirk that probably leaves him without the capability of speaking.

“So hard already, Shu-chan” you playfully purr before kissing his erection and letting his pants fall to the ground. You discover the many scars his body has, showing you not only his face has been wounded for protecting his friends and students. And it’s so pretty, that as you have kissed his sex, you want to kiss there too.

For a moment, lust is put aside, and love takes over. For him, meaningful acts have always been his love language… and for you, to show him that you love the marks of his past makes him melt in pure adoration.

“I can’t let you do this, let me love you first” he says, giving you his hand to stand up. You accept it, even if you don’t see anything wrong in pleasing him first.

With loving kisses on the tip of your nose and your lips both walk back to bed, where you two sit and then lay.

His hands, that from afar may look rough, feel so soft over your skin. Peeling your clothes slowly, sometimes peaking outside the window the heavy snowflakes accumulating, both let lust take over.

Hisagi tops you, taking a look at the beautiful woman underneath his frame. He takes his time to adore every inch of your skin, to kiss and taste it. “You are perfect, (Name)” he murmurs, when his lips gets to your neck.

“You too” you whisper, caressing the scars that cross his face. Truth is that you wished you could tell him so much more, but all the feelings get stuck in your throat as they want to come out all at once.

As his butterfly kisses go down your chest, he concentrates on your breasts for as long as he wants. Shuhei then, goes even lower. His tongue tracing circles around your belly button, down, down until he meets with the valley in between your spread legs.

A little bite on each of your inner thighs, his tongue after leaving the area hot and shiny. He enjoys the way your spasming muscles feel over his thumb as he keeps your legs apart. He falls in love with the way your back arches when the tip of his tongue touches your clit for the first time.

Hisagi swallows, devours you. If he were to feed from only one source all his life, he would chose your core for eternity. The honeys of your concupiscence are nothing but pure bliss to him, pure ecstasy.

And as him, you are in cloud nine too. Fingers intertwined with his spiky black hair, pulling so that he keeps taking you to heaven more and more, until it’s too much for even you.

“Make- make love to me ~” you plead, looking right at his steel eyes as he has half face nuzzled into your folds.

“Can I?” Shuhei asks, before moving forward.

You smile, delicately lifting his chin with some difficulty. “Please, do…” you beg, biting your lower lip, attracting that man to your mouth like a bee to sweet, sweet nectar.

He crawls with a serenity you never expected he would manage to have, and his lean arms now frame your shoulders. He looks at you, and the minutes become eternal as you lose yourself in his lovesick sight.

It’s almost automatic, he slides himself inside you with no warning but no violence. Slow, but so perfectly filling you with his own. Two souls joining, a heart forming with them.

Hips moving in and out, and your nails carved on his arms. Sometimes your eyes wander to his tattoos, sometimes to his belly button piercing. But the sound of your flesh against his flesh pulls you away from the spell bounding raptured look of your lover.

And the sound of flesh against flesh, mixes too, with your moans and his grunts. The sweat drop falling on the commissure of your lips, your hips bucking up unconsciously trying to melt into him, to feel him deeper, as your orgasm approaches and the inevitable words come out of your mouth.

“I’ve always loved you, Shuhei” you whine, as climax hits you. “I- I’ve alw- I love you… I love – you!” he moans, getting there too… 💖

#shuhei hisagi x reader #shuhei hisagi #shuhei x reader #shuhei bleach #hisagi shuuhei #bleach x reader fanfic #bleach x reader #bleach #bleach anime #bleach fan fic #bleach fanfiction #bleach fanfic #bleach smut #sashi ya

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mintibunny · 26 days

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Vierapril '24 - Day 1: Regal

More dramatics with the Ancients.

Endwalker spoilers ahoy.

King Leonides clung to a rock as horrid winds blew, and rain poured down upon his wizened head. His royal robes, once bright purples and golds, were splatted with mud and muck from days of travel. Even his beard, his beautiful beard of hair as bright as fresh-fallen snow, was but matted grey slush.

Ah! To be reduced to a common beggar, to wander and wither away! The barbarity of it all!

"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks!" The beggar-king howled towards the sky, shaking his fists in righteous anger.

"Rage, blow!

You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks. You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires, vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, singe my white head.

And thou, all-shaking thunder, strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world. Crack Natures' moulds, all brotherhood spill at once, that makes ingrateful man!" Leonides frowned, rose to his feet, and raised a hand into the air. With a sharp snap of fingers and thumb, the world suddenly melted around him, leaving only himself, and two masked and robed figures, on a circular marble dais. The wind - the true wind of Elpis - brushed past his chin, sending his "beard" fluttering off towards a patch of perpetually blooming flowers.

"Why did you stop? That was excellent so far, excellent." One of the masked figures, a tall man with dark black hair and striking green eyes, clapped his hands and smiled pleasantly. "I could just *see* you falling into the pits of despair. Couldn't you, Hythlodaeus?"

The other figure, made up to look like King Leonides' long-suffering court fool, grinned from beneath the heavy dabs of powder on his face. "As if our dear Emet-Selch needed any help taking the stage. I'd take my hat off for you, but I fear that would break the spell Dionysos has weaved for us thus far." He pointed towards his foppish silk hat and soiled peasant's clothes, and grinned even more. "Perhaps you take offense at being called 'nuncle', in the next line? I am the King's Fool, after all. It's my purpose to be your advisor, your friend. Even in dark moments as these, betrayed by your daughters and your kingdom."

Having shed the rest of his costume, Emet-Selch moved with effortless grace towards the rim of the dais, crossed his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes. "What a poor excuse of a king." he said, after a time. "A true king would never let himself fall to such lows. Wallowing in the dirt, crying at the winds." Turning to Dionysos, he continued, his anger echoed by the stage's acoustics. "I shudder to think if you were inspired by the world below. Is this what you see in it? Betrayal? Loss? Madness?" A step closer. "What we have created - what we have fashioned ever so carefully - is nothing less than perfect. So, with that in mind, I want this rewritten. Understand, this 'play' of yours will reflect what we've worked for. Not some dark fantasy you've cobbled together." Leonides' robes were thrown unceremoniously at Dionysos's feet.

Dionysos could only look on in shock as Emet stormed off into the night, bolts of lightning sent streaking across the night sky, in his wake. Shortly after, fat drops of rain loosed themselves from the fluffy clouds above, threatening to wash the whole production away. I struck a nerve, I take it, he thought.

It took a moment to kneel down and pick up the "king's" robes, to cradle them in the ancient's arms like a mother with her babe. Fine fabric like this shouldn't be left to the mercies of the evening; Phoenix had done too good a job willing the clothes into being. The dirt and muck were but illusions, of course. Is this what I should be doing as Azem, writing about the world as it is? Is that not allowed anymore?

A kindly voice came from behind, and a hand gently placed on Dionysos' shoulder. "You must forgive Emet-Selch. He's still suffering from the effects of the memory loss we experienced. I know it weighs heavily on him-"

"-as it does on all of us." Dionysos groaned and pressed the robes up to his face. "Hermes and his experiments." It felt oddly comforting to rub sopping wet cloth on his face. "Perhaps Hephastus would be more open to my mummery. I'm sure I could find a place for his child, too. What was their name? Damned if I've forgotten."

Of the Muses who flocked to Dionysos, who eternally demanded his attention, there were a few who gave him the comfort and kindness he needed. Calliope (sweet, hopeless Calliope), Ajax (strong, stoic Ajax), and, unofficially, Hythlodaeus. Granted, he wasn't around nearly enough to be called a Muse, but the love was there, regardless. A good love. Agape. The love that could keep a rainy night from not being as bad as it could be.

He was close by, wasn't he. Embracing a beleaguered playwright, putting forehead to forehead. Holding Dionysos just the way he liked it.

"My old friend," Hythlodaeus whispered. " 'Court holy water in a dry house is better than this rain water out o' door. Good brother, in, and ask thy friend's blessing. Here's a night pities nether wise men nor fools.'"

"That's not how the line goes," Dionysos whispered back.

"I'd take the hint if I'd your mind."

"I will."

~~~~~~~~

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy oc #ffxiv #minti wol #minti chocolate #ffxiv azem #hythlodaeus #emet selch #ffxiv elpis #vierapril 2024

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eternally-smitten · 6 months

Text

What a Mess

summary: After a long day at work, Natalie finds out she has more to do when Sun comes to her covered in a mess.

word count: 962

author's note: ...the movie got to me. It healed my inner child. I couldn't resist at least having Sun be a platonic f/o! 13 year old me is screaming her little head off right now because I wrote this lol

banner credit: mmadeinheavenn

It was closing time for the Pizzaplex.

Finally.

Natalie shooed the last straggler out of the daycare before shutting the doors behind her. She flicked her staff hat off and ruffled her hair, feeling hungry and worn out. Her day wasn’t entirely done, though, because there was still a mess the kids left behind waiting for her. Balls taken from that dreaded ball pit were thrown everywhere, some shoes were left behind, building blocks littered all over the mats, and drawings scattered everywhere.

She sighed and put her hat back on, “Guess I’m goin’ home late again.”

Just as she started to collect the brightly colored balls, Natalie heard rustling around up in the jungle gym area. Then, there was distressed animatronic mumbling.

“Sun?” She asked, throwing the ball in her hand back in the pit, “Where are you?”

Whatever shuffling she heard earlier stopped as soon as she spoke. Natalie fixed her glasses and walked around, trying to find him.

“Sunny? Come on, I don’t have time to play hide and seek tonight. Can you help me clean up?”

“Clean up?” A voice asked above her.

Natalie saw part of his face poking out behind a slide and waved him down, “Yeah! There’s some drawings here for you, too.”

“Drawings?”

Before she could utter another word, Sun hopped down and hesitantly stepped in the light. When she could see him better, Natalie audibly groaned.

“You let the kids draw all over you again, didn’t you?” She pursed her lips.

Sun turned his face away a little, seemingly embarrassed, “They said they ran out of paper! They wanted to make me pretty!”

She fumbled with her key ring to find the keys to her office, “At least it’s not stickers again. Those were a nightmare to clean off.”

“You won’t let me have stickers without you around!” He reminded her, “I miss them…”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Sunny,” Natalie found her key and beckoned him to follow her, “It’s that I don’t trust the kids. They always make a mess that I have to clean up.”

He titled his head, “But it’s so much fun! Lots and lots of fun!”

“Sure, for the one that doesn’t have to spend hours cleaning up sticky goo off of metal.” Natalie unlocked her office and searched her desk for the wipes she bought special for situations like this. Sun watched her curiously in the doorway and looked at how her office was decorated.

It was very dreary. The walls were a depressing gray, her desk chair was extremely worn out, and she had little to no decorations. Except for one thing hung up on the wall.

He pointed ahead, grabbing Natalie’s attention, “You kept it?”

She looked to where he was pointing and smiled, “Of course I did! You made it for me!”

The only thing that decorated her entire office was a drawing Sun did for her when she first started working at the Pizzaplex. It had a little Sun and a little Natalie smiling and holding hands under a rainbow that read “To my new bestest friend! Welcome aboard!!”

Sun clicked his cold fingers together, “You really liked it?”

“Yes!” Natalie giggled, grabbing her wipes before locking the office, “It’s from my best friend! Of course I love it!”

She took a seat on the playmats and patted the spot in front of her. Sun carefully sat down in front of her and leaned down so she could reach him better. His face was covered in crayon and marker. Little suns, flowers, cats and dogs, and kids’ names were all over in an assortment of colors. Natalie took a wipe and started to scrub the drawings away. Her movements made little squeaking noises against Sun’s metal face.

“You gotta stop letting the kids do this.” She muttered, struggling to clean up one particular marker doodle.

Sun did his best to stay still while she cleaned him up, “But they have so much fun!”

“They can have fun playing in other ways, Sunny.” Natalie finally got the one stain out and moved on to the next, “That’s what this place is here for, you know. You live in a playground.”

“I like it, though!” He whirred, “I make lots of friends when they doodle! We also ran out of paper and they weren’t interested in games!”

Natalie stopped to grab a new wipe, “All you gotta do is call me to grab you guys more paper. That’s what I’m here for, you know.”

“You’re so busy!” Sun shook his head, “Busy, busy!”

“Well, yeah!” She pulled his face towards her again, “I am busy here because it’s my job!”

She finished up wiping away the last of the crayon marks and let go of him. The mats squeaked as she stood up and stretched. Sun got up after her and touched his freshly cleaned face.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“Sure!” Natalie smiled at him, “Now, can you help me clean up before I go?”

“Keep the light on when you do!” Sun said anxiously, “...Please?”

She handed him one of the drawings she found, “Of course I will.”

Just like she expected, cleaning up took up most of her night. It was shocking how kids could jam toys into places Natalie never thought they could reach. Once they were finally done, she stuck around for another hour or so to drink Fizzy Pop with Sun and to keep him company. When it was time for her to get back home, Sun was left alone in the daycare once again. Instead of feeling lonely, though, he made sure to draw something new for Natalie. He wanted to make sure his best friend could decorate her office with lots of wonderful things.

Tag list: @rainy-day-ships @bobmckenzie @wanderers-wife @lieutenantselnia @gideongrovel @ghilliedup @felixrichtershubby @fates-theysband @mashyaoi @cherrypieships lmk if you want to be added/removed! ♡

#my stuff ♡#Sun ♤#self ship fic #self ship fanfiction #platonic f/o #ok to rb!

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dndeed · 9 months

Text

Crit Role Miniature Rollout: C3E50 Red Moon Rising

With Andrew Harshman

An analysis of the minis used on CR.

That red moon is indeed arisin’! Oooooey, look at that cinematic shot and cinematic lighting! At the end of the day, I think I have a slight preference for live shows, but the benefit of preproduction is these cinematic mini shots. The same thing probably could be achieve during a live recording with a handheld camera operator (Mega64 does it all the time). But regardless, these shots are awesome for helping establish the scene and giving us a closer peak at all the rad models. Thank you Critical Role production team, it is much appreciated!

Get in the robot Shinji, it’s time for Critical Role Miniature Rollout Campaign 3 Episode 50!

Mini Map Overview

This is a cuh-lassic C2/3 style map, featuring full 3D terrain elements atop a gaming mat. Specifically, a Mats by Mars desert theme base with Dwarven Forge Mountain rocks and blocks. Some wooden stairs and walkway components by Monster Fightclub, and scatter terrain from Pathfinder, HirstArts, and Mantic Games. One tent is from Mantic’s Terrain Crate series and the other is a Safari brand “Civil War Officer” tent famously featured in Campaign 2 Episode 3:

This particular brand of tent must be a popular in the world of Tal'dorei. What about this tent design makes it “Civil War” era? It is a rather tall tent, perhaps the high tent ceiling is made to accommodate an Abe Lincoln style top hat? “d4 score and seven years ago-” harharhar

The medium sized enemy cult member minis in this encounter are a bit mysterious to me. I suspect they are kitbashed models or resin printed. Possibly modular Frostgrave models? Difficult to say for sure. They are a tad generic, nothing super distinctive or identifiable. But conveniently, armed cultist models are a dime a dozen. If you need some for your own game, you’ll find there are ample options.

Best Mini of the Ep

This here Mighty Servant of Leuk-o model is mighty neat. Not only is it one of the most impressively large construct models. It is one of the only pilotable construct models! Go for it, hop in for a test drive!

Perhaps a sorta mundane detail for most folk, but I really like the decorative lines of gold patterning. Quality production value.

Worst Mini of the Ep

These large tents are pretty nice sculpts. But they are a downright hassle to paint. Them little frilly flaps along the top there, what a bother. Ain’t got time for those sorta tent trubs.

I’ve painted three of these tents for my own game, that’s over 100 flaps! Yeesh.

See ya next sesh!

#critroleminiaturerollout

#critroleminiaturerollout #criticalroleminiaturerollout #critrole #criticalrole #crit role #crspoilers #dwarvenforge #matsbymars

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deadmotelsusa · 7 months

Text

The Hat-O-Mat Drive-In Restaurant is what nightmares are made of.

Apparently, its eyes rolled from side to side and its nose opened to serve food. It was so popular upon opening in the 1950s that cars would line U.S. 422 just to get a glimpse of it. I guess I can see the appeal but I just know it would have traumatized me as a kid.

The Hat-O-Mat was located directly next to a popular restaurant called Ma Perkins Inn. The Hat closed in the 1960s. Ma Perkins did too. Ma's briefly became a nightclub called the Freak Out, which burned down by the end of the decade. The Niles Historical Society is quoted saying that the Hat-O-Mat is still standing but I don't think that's true.

Using HistoricAerials as a guide, I found where the old Hat was located. Its round shape is easy to spot on the map in 1951 but by 1962, it appears overgrown. It was still there in 1994 but a new building had been built beside it. By 2006, it was gone. Today, it's a Drive-Thru that sells beer, wine and lottery tickets. Notice the same house is still located across the street.

For a hot minute, I thought I had found it nestled in between two older motels. I also included the screenshot of that building. It was roughly the same size and located less than a mile from the real location so you can understand my mistake. Located in Niles, Ohio.

#hat o mat #niles #ohio #then and now

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tokusaatsus · 1 year

Text

SURPRISE PARTIES

ft. oukawa kohaku

warnings: mild mentions of weapons, references to kohaku’s backstory, cursing

Crazy:B is just getting back from a hard day of practice, practice and more practice when they notice a human curled on the doorstep of their apartment.

By which I mean, the apartment that legally belongs to Niki and is currently being invaded by the usual amount of three-to-four freeloaders.

Curled up next to the welcome mat and fast asleep, hands wrapped around your knees, lies none other than you. One L/N Y/N, aka what Rinne means when he says ‘brat (affectionate)’, Niki’s sous-chef, ⅓ of the reason for HiMERU’s rising blood pressure, and the honorary fifth bee. The other four bees stop to stare at you blankly, before HiMERU breaks the silence. “Are they dead?”

Kohaku crouches down to poke your cheek, and you shift with a muttered complaint. “Nah. Jus’ asleep. Hey,” He shakes you. “Hey. Hey. HEY!”

You wake up with your fists flying, and nearly clip Kohaku on the cheek (you actually do manage to hit Rinne-senpai in the shin, but you ignore his grunt of pain and low swears in favour of focusing on what you deem more important). “Uweh! ‘M up, I’m up… Oh,” You blink slowly at Kohaku, who blinks back just as slowly. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, o’ course I’m here. This is Niki-han’s apartment.”

You rub at your eyes, voice heavy from sleep. The older three begin to file into the apartment–though still within listening distance, you assume. “That’s good… Hey, you aren’t too tired, right?”

“Not really… Why?” Kohaku’s instantly suspicious. “I can still fight like this, yanno?”

You look at him with a deadpan expression. You file that away for later examination. Whatever. Not thinking about it. “...‘Kay. Are you free to go to a store with me?”

Kohaku raises an eyebrow. You rarely ever ask him to hang out alone. Something about there being more competition for attention, especially considering you ain’t a real bee, blah blah blah. Privately, Kohaku doesn’t think you’ll ever have to worry about that, because he’s never seen the other bees dote on someone who isn’t one of their own. He’s speaking from experience here. “...Sure. What’s the occasion?”

“No reason,” You shrug. “Just felt like it.” You stand up with a bone-cracking stretch. Then, speaking at a volume that really isn’t necessary, you continue. “Well, me and Kohakkun”–you ignore his grumbled protests at the nickname–“will be at that idol store down the street! We’ll probably be gone for an hour-ish! We’re leaving now! Bye-bye!”

You grab Kohaku’s hand and begin running down the hallways. He goes limp and lets himself be dragged along, knowing that resistance is futile.

When you dragged Kohaku to the idol store, he was expecting it to be something similar to his trips with Love-han.

To translate, he expected a lot of squealing and rambling and excited fan behaviour. You being you, however, instead decide to completely destroy his expectations. You stay firmly in the NewDi aisle of the shop, carefully browsing through the merch.

Your eyes alight on a little plushie of Madara-han in his MaM outfit, and Kohaku thinks, oh God, no.

You pick it up off the shelf with a slight smile. “Hey, what d’you think?” You wave the plushie under his nose, and Kohaku watches the mini Madara-han, with his mini cowboy hat. He has the irrational urge to punch it, and then give it a hug. It’s cute, he’ll admit, but he’d rather die than ever be caught with Madara-han merch–be it Double Face-style or just MaM-style.

The only thing worse than that, Kohaku considers, would be to be caught with Crazy:B merch. Then he sees your eyes wander to the CosPro section, settling on the Crazy:B plushies, and Kohaku decides it’s time to do damage control.

Madara-han is way better than the bees in this scenario.

He begins steering you towards the cashier. “Yeah, I think the teeny Madara-han looks great. Real cool. Ya should get this one. Totally.”

You give him a wicked grin over your shoulder, but allow yourself to be pushed. You complete your purchase while Kohaku hovers at your side like a short, pink, guardian angel. ¥60, 000 for a single Madara-han?! Crazy…

“Hm, I think that’s all…” You smile at him, the tiny Madara-han tucked into your pouch. “Safe to go back now, you think?”

Kohaku doesn’t protest your strange choice of words and trails silently after you, checking his DMs on his Whole Hands. Love-han wished him a happy birthday (with lots of emojis and sparkles, as he is wont to do), as did Madara-han… He pauses, stowing his phone in his pocket just outside Niki-han’s apartment. Something feels… different.

He hesitates. It’s quiet.

Then it hits him. It’s too quiet. The bees (Rinne-han specifically) can never shut up for longer than five seconds. But there’s no noise from the apartment. You turn to look at him with your hand on the doorknob. “Something wrong, Kohakkun?” He doesn’t protest the nickname this time, too busy trying to pinpoint any signs of impending attack.

“Lemme go first.”

You look at him quizzically, but step back to let him pass. Kohaku pushes open the door carefully. It’s dark. He holds out a hand, barring your movement. Keeping you behind him. Out of the line of fire.

The lights flick on.

There’s a multitude of loud noises (not unlike that of a gunshot).

Kohaku flinches, moving in front of you to shield you with his body, waiting for the expected attack.

It never comes.

“SURPRISE!”

Kohaku opens his eyes to see… the bees? All wearing party hats? Grinning wildly? What the hell…

There’re banners and streamers strung up around Niki-han’s apartment, and a table spread with delicious snacks and food lies in the center of the living room. A large cake, light pink with a fondant bee on it, takes pride of place on the table. A popping noise (not a gunshot, not a gunshot) sounds behind him and he turns to see you, blowing a sparkly pink…party…popper at him. “Wh–huh?”

You stick your tongue out at him playfully. “Happy birthday, Kohaku.”

notes!

WC: 1k words

reze txt happy birthday kohaku! we love you, our sweet cotton candy bee! may you keep learning and growing and loving <3

additional notes: longest b’day fic i’ve ever written (so far). i don’t produce the bees but as a cospro lvr im obligated to care them. a lil bit. also yes the madara plushie IS kohakkun’s b’day gift from y/n :3 finally, a psa: when throwing ur incredibly sheltered baby assassin unitmate-slash-friend a surprise party pls be sure to remove any potential triggers from the surrounding area or i guarantee u WILL get knifed :( this has been ur bimonthly psa from ur friendly neighbourhood anzu lvr <3 salutes

#✒️...scribbles!#oukawa kohaku x reader #enstars x reader #oukawa kohaku #crazy:b #enstars

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barry-j-blupjeans · 1 year

Note

Orphanage + magical realism AU

When Merle called and asked for a favor, Taako had expected something like "order some pizza for the kids" or "can you run these errands for me?" Not "can you teach some kids some magic?" And yet, here he was, at fuck-early in the morning, struggling to find a parking spot near enough to the orphanage that he wouldn't have to walk ten extra blocks, just to teach some little brats a few party tricks. The secret parking spot he had found during his teens was taken. There were only parallel parking spaces left because fuck him, but, y'know. Taako could deal with that.

Correction: Magic could deal with that. So what if Taako used a little bit of extra charm so that he wouldn't have to maneuver his way into the space? He was literally here to teach magic. He was leading by example! He was a teacher figure!

The orphanage was a large brick building, which looked like it needed a good pressure wash. There were dozens of plants lined up on the windowsill, vines creeping up the brick walls. Taako took ahold of the door knocker- the bronze face of Pan was engraved into it- and knocked. Loudly.

He waited.

No one came.

Taako knocked again.

Nothing.

He gripped the door knocker again, banging on it now, and raised his voice to say,

"Merle fucking Highchurch if you don't open this goddamn door-"

The door opened, bringing Taako, who was still attached to the door knocker, back with it. He tumbled, barely catching himself before he went all the way down.

In the door stood a young human boy. Maybe. Taako still didn't know how humans aged. He looked like someone had stuffed a businessman into a child's body. There was a wand attached to his brightly colored lanyard and an honest-to-gods feather in his little business boy hat. Taako knew it had been a while since he had been a kid, but had fashion really changed that much? This kid dressed like his grandpa had.

"Are you… Mr. Taako?" fancy boy asked, looking extremely hopeful.

"Sure am," Taako said.

"Oh, boy!" fancy boy said, bouncing up and down on his heels. "P- please! Come in! Mr. Highchurch is, uhm, preoccupied with some of the other children, but- but I can get him for you! Or, or if you wanted to get stuff set up for magic-!"

"Nothin to set up, my man," Taako said, stepping inside. Fancy boy shut the door behind him. "I've already got everything I need right here." He tapped a hand against his chest.

"In your heart?" fancy boy asked sweetly.

"Nah," Taako said, reaching into his shirt pocket for the small card he had put in there before. "This bad boy right here."

"Flashcards?" fancy boy asked, with even more excitement than before.

"A receipt for the money Merle owes me," Taako said. "Can't do magic before that."

"O-oh," fancy boy said. But he perked up again, saying, "I- I can show you where we're doing magic, and then I can go get Mr. Highchurch for you! It's- it's right through here!"

He brought Taako into the drawing room, which had a large table set up in the middle of it. There were many chairs, but none of them were occupied. Fancy boy pulled out a seat for Taako, like a little gentleman. His nose wrinkled when Taako put his feet up on the table, but he didn't say anything. He scurried out of the room with the receipt, presumably to go get Merle, and left Taako alone.

It had been… a long time since Taako was last in here. Felt like it, at least. Merle had obviously redecorated some in the nearly hundred years since Taako had been under his care, but it still felt cozy. The table was still set up as it had always been for activities- a red table skirt, with various little place mats around it. There was a bowl of glitter glue in the middle of the table and various child-sized scissors around. When Taako inhaled, it still smelled strongly of lavender and cleaning chemicals.

Fancy boy hurried back into the room, money clutched in his hand.

"Four dollars and seventy-two cents," he said, pushing the money toward Taako. "He's, uhm, he's getting his fingernails painted right now, so he couldn't come, but he'll be by later!" He pulled up a chair for himself, scooting towards Taako. "May we do magic now? Please?"

"Pretty sure it was eighty-one cents," Taako said, picking up a penny. Fancy boy faltered and frowned, looking ready to get back up. But Taako turned the penny in his fingers. Using just a little Prestidigitation, he turned it into a dime. Fancy boy looked so excited he nearly rocked himself out of his chair. When he got his balance, he scooted forward eagerly and leaned in to look at the dime.

"W- wow!" he said. "Are we- can you teach me how to do that?"

"This?" Taako said, holding up the dime. "This is illegal, no, I will not be teaching you that. Keep your nose clean, kid, goin' through court is a mess these days."

"Oh," Fancy boy said. "Well, uhm. Is there any legal magic you can teach me, sir?" A pause. "Pretty please?"

"I'm sure I can find somethin'," Taako said, setting the dime down. It flickered back into a penny. "What's your name?"

"Angus, sir," fancy boy said.

"And it's just gonna be you today, huh?" Taako asked, peering through the door that he had come through. "No one else wants to take a stab at the ol' magic game?"

"Oh, uhm, no sir," Angus said. "They're all pretty into Fantasy Fortnite right now."

"Ah," Taako said. "That'll do it, yeah. Alright, Anges-"

"It's- it's Angus, actu-"

"Here's the deal," Taako said. "You wanna learn magic, you gotta be cool. Are you cool, Anges?"

"I- I like to think I am!" Angus said. "I can- Mr. Highchurch says I can hang. Is that anything?"

"Sure, sure," Taako said. He checked his watch. Three more hours of this shit. And then six more weeks after that. What had he gotten himself into? "We can work with that."

#taako #angus mcdonald #taz #taz balance #asks #anon #mine #ise cube writing #pathetically attempting to get my writing skill back sldfds

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asha-mage · 7 months

Note

For your request: Mat & Birgitte + bender 🍺

[Send me a character or pairing, and a one word prompt, and I'll write you a drabble!]

Maerion felt the cold wood of the tavern floor before anything else. The rough grain was pressed up sharply against her cheek and her first thought, swimming up through the pounding fog that stuffed her brain, was that she would have to pull out any splinters first thing. She had been to Wise Women and hedge doctors for embarrassing wounds in her time, more then most soldiers even, but infected splinters gained from sleeping on a tavern floor would be a new low.

The rest of sensation filtered back in bits and pieces: Aches and pains made worse by her pounding skull, bruised knuckles and sore ankle, gained in a bar fight she had only the vague outline of in her memory. Their was also a shallow cut on her right shoulder she realized, poorly bandaged, and as she reached over a hand to finger it, she recalled where it had come from: an ill thought out knife fight with a Ebu Dari woman last night. Blood of the Dragon’s bloody birth but everything hurts, she thought to herself as she blinked her eyes open. She had taken far worse wounds in battle, but their was something special and uniquely cutting about the pain that came with night of drunken debauchery. Something that made it sting in a way a simple sword to the gut or broken arm didn’t.

It took longer then she wanted for her vision to resolve into the sight of an empty tavern room- one she didn’t recognize from her foggy memories of the night before. It was mostly in a decent state, which meant she had probably not been there long before passing out. Brilliant noonday light was pouring in through the windows, and just glancing in that direction made her skull feel like it was shattering so she turned away from it even as she sat up.

She gave a start as she saw who was seated beside her, cross legged on the floor. His wide brimmed hat had been pushed up, revealing his smirking face, somehow seeming more clever for the plain black eye patch. Wings of silver ran through his dark hair, and a angry red scar circled his throat, as if from a hanging attempt.

Something clicked into place when she spotted that scar, a memory, a warning rattling loose from the fog.

“You-!” Maerion started sitting up, scrambling for a knife, a dagger, anything at all. She hadn’t recognized him at the start of the events of the night before, and when she had later she had been to drunk to care, but this was-!

“You can’t hold your liquor the way you used to.” He mused leaning back. Maerion blinked not understanding, and not sure if it was her hang over, or his words that where the problem. “But that will change as you grow back into yourself.”

“You’re Inarian, Emperor Consort and Marshal of the-“ Maerion began but he waved her off.

“Yes yes, Marshal General of the Band of the Red Hand. Also, the Hornsounder, the One Eyed Fox, the Butcher of Say’lath, Rodholder of the Ever Victorious Army, and all the rest too.” His smirk had turned into a sour grimace. “The way my wife’s people like to pile titles and names on, it’s a wonder I haven’t been buried yet.” He laughed. “Please, just call me Mat. That was the name I was born with, and it’s still the one I like the best.”

Maerion gaped at him, jaw slack, then shook her head. “But you- why are you drinking in the Rahad?”

The man simply smiled at her. “I heard an old friend was in town and wanted to meet up with her. We used to carouse here, back in the day.” He shrugged.

Something…something twinged in Maerion’s memory. Something from deep beneath the pain of her hanger over, the ache of her muscles. Something that came from the very depths of her marrow. A laugh, sly and mischievous and half smoke. For some reason she remembered this man laughing, but younger, fresher. Closer to her own age. It was impossible. Yet it was there.

Mat seemed to catch on to something was off because his smirk came back and he offered her his hand. “Come on. Let’s get some water in you and that cut looked at by a Wise Woman.”

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Maerion took his hand and nodded.

#WoT #Wheel of Time #WoT Fanfic #Mat Cauthon #birgitte silverbow #WoT Book Spoilers #AMOL Spoilers #Drabble challenge #No Beta We Die like Uno

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kandyrezi · 2 years

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If you don't mind, can i ask for a cute fluffy Meikai x reader?

(a/n: u know what...... yes, you can. because i need something cute every once in a while to pacify my soul.)

: - : - : - : - : - : - :

—home;

prompt: ❝ you don't get enough sleep. ❞ in which meikai falls for a human living in a waterside home with a fascination of the stars. | au

It’s quiet, he can faintly hear the sound of waves from his beloved sea rippling against the docks from outside — it’s comforting and he feels at ease. The place has become almost a second home for him. After returning from the kitchen area, he passes the second mug over to the astronomer. He knows you aren’t much of a caffeine drinker, and he isn’t trying to rouse you anyway, despite the hour.

The sunrise from outside the window paints an orange, lightly pink glow on your features. Meikai sits on the royal-colored chair adjacent to the writing table. The galileoscope leans against the edge of it, light glinting off of the glass. He’d left his cape and hat on the coat hanger near the entrance door.

A sip of the sweet-tasting, foaming drink leaves pleasant warmth lingering inside your body, and his as well.

"This hot chocolate is so good... I'd marry you if I could just wake up to you making it with your amazing wizarding prowess for me... erry’ dayyy..."

You drawl out the last word as you yawn almost on cue, confirming his worries he’d been thinking of before when he saw you hunched over the desk, using your arms as makeshift pillow to lay your head on.

And Meikai takes note, "You've kept up this habit of yours, all this time."

"Hmmm? Which one?"

"You don't get enough sleep."

"Hows'so?"

"You're always drowsy, and you have this half-lidded gaze as if you're barely able to stay awake," he smiles, "I'd make it for you again if you had a good night's rest, or rather, good early dawn’s rest right now."

"Well... I can't sleep because I'm always waiting for you to come back," you return the smile sheepishly, “And, you know... the stars are normally brightest after midnight...”

Evidently. Your leather journal (quite old, from the yellowing pages and the cracked binding) was left open, names of all the constellations, asteroids, far-away planets written down and drawn in graphs. All of the ones you discovered by yourself and the ones he introduced when he took you stargazing in the Star Isle located to east in the Great Sea. On the open page, illustration of the constellation Orion with scribbled notes from top to bottom (’old as time?’ ‘named after divine entity. were they a real person or being?’)

“I got three solid hours of shuteye... not consecutively, but still, it’s fine.”

"There would be nothing on my conscience if i was able to somehow reverse that effect on you. For the sake of your well-being."

“I’m alright, but thank you anyway...”

The sorcerer says softly, “I insist.”

It doesn’t take much for you to relent; perhaps you know how aware he is of your own mortality, as a result, his attention to your condition manifests in ways only he knows how to show.

“Ah, well... if, you so insist, then I guess...”

You remove yourself from the chair to sit on the mattress, then gracelessly fall with your head down onto the pillows with a ‘flop’ and a groan. Meikai puts his hot drink aside on the woven table mat.

“Maybe one day you’ll get to meet the one who made all these stars.” the sorcerer mentions, glancing at the journal again. You have a curious, beautiful soul.

“So many of them are faraway planets...” you yawn again, “I wonder who lives on them?”

“I wonder so too... there’s a vast universe out there we haven’t yet met.”

He inches closer so he can raise the duvet up to your shoulders, the soft fabric engulfing your frame.

Worriedly, you ask, “Are you leaving?”

“Not yet. I only just arrived.” he replies.

You poke your hand out beneath the comforter, reaching out with fingers. He takes notice, and holds onto your hand in return — your fingertips are always cold, compared to the rest of the body heat you normally excluded.

“Can we go to the Isle again when I wake up? It’s my favorite place.”

“I know, and of course.”

“And... since you played the piano for me last time, I’ll play violin for you.”

You keep the grand piano in your house as bequest from your late relatives. It looked lonely in the parlor collecting dust (”in human culture, having a piano in your home shows off aristocracy and sophistication. You don’t even need to know how to play. And, I prefer the violin anyway.”), and so he offered to play for you.

He sits by the bedside and waits - which does not take long, no matter how you tried to hide how fatigued you actually were - until your grip on his hand becomes progressively feeble, as you eventually fall into slumber and (hopefully) good dreams overtake your mind, quiet breaths become slower and shallow.

He retracts his hand slowly, rummages around in the pockets of his blazer and grabs the item nestled there.

(‘I'd marry you if i could just wake up to you making it with your amazing wizarding prowess for me...’)

It’s a good thing he won the inner debate on bringing it with him earlier, then.

He wonders what kind of wedding would you prefer. If he granted you ability to breathe underwater to have a big ceremony with everyone in the sea kingdom invited. So its denizens could meet the mysterious creature on land who managed to capture his affections. Would you wear something closely sea-themed, azure or teal fabric with clam ornaments, or would you prefer to stick with your customs of wearing pure, elegant white.

The thoughts linger, he carefully slips the lapis lazuli embedded onto band of silver on your ring finger, as it glistens under rays of early sunlight.

You had all the time in the world to figure it out.

He just didn’t know how long things would stay peaceful in the sea until then.

#funamusea #wadanohara #okegom #mogeko #meikai (wadanohara)#deep-sea prisoner #dsp #meikai x reader #ficlets #ive never written for meikai and it shows :) im rusty. piece of rust on iron #i keep a list of prompts in my docs in case i need inspiration #watgbs

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