#sushi babbles

[pudgybun]

I'm round bc I'm full of love

[beannary]

the best part about having sprained my back is that because i wasnt able to go grocery shopping over the weekend so i get to order food for lunch and dinner hehe

[twistedappletree]

@ autocorrect: not once have i ever wanted you to correct ‘lan sizhui’ into ‘alan sushi’ when i’m writing fic and frankly it’s really ruining the mood while i’m trying to play god & smash my barbies together

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Taiwanese people 🤝 Japanese people both knowing Line is the superior messaging app.

Why? Because I am still obsessed with all the stickers and themes on Line that I can’t use anywhere else.

Once again my cousin is single handedly (irl at least) keeping me in the fandom CAUSE LOOK WHAT I WOKE UP TO THIS MORNING!!!!

I could cry look at this theme!!! And I haven’t even seen the movie yet 😭😭😭 sorry Tinkerbell, but I had to change my theme to my ship

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[wisteriagoesvroom]

gax + corporate/law vibes + ‘The powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.’

gax?? gax!!

power (you make some points): a gax ficlet

rated m, ~1.2k words now also readable on ao3

author babble:

bear in mind i wrote this before i knew more about the Gax Lore i.e. karting together, actually being nice to each other blablabla. you could also just retrofit the vibes and hopefully they still work. anyways!

will throw this up on ao3 when i’m not sitting bleary eyed in an airport

————

If there was one thing that Max Verstappen wouldn’t tolerate, it was George Russell having the monopoly on good PowerPoint presentations. Max had won all four years of debate in College, as well as the dubious title of “most radical deployment of Google Slides templates” at his MBA, and he was not about to be usurped by the other guy in his department who actually knew how to use an animate transition.

“You missed an indent there.” Max says, pointing at the monitor. Yellow and red lights wink at them from the outside, as if to say: you’re both in your mid-twenties, quit wasting it on a computer screen at 11pm on a Wednesday, maybe?

Max is not staring, very determined not to look at his teammate’s facial expression. But George is almost certainly rolling his eyes right now.

“Was coming back to that, alright?” George huffs back. Max is very professional most of the time. But something about how wound up George is, how insanely pedantic he is about everything from semicolons to coffee cup placement for the Directors to taking insanely detailed minutes that nobody except Max reads after the meetings – well. What is it that Nietschze once said? We hate in others what we most identify with about ourselves. Or was that from Twitter? Max does not really use Twitter except to look at Bloomberg News updates and cat videos, so he does not know. And anyway Nietzsche never made a six figure salary.

“It would just be easier if you would let me do it.” Max says.

“Fuck right off, mate.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like me to.”

“Not now.”

“Just share the link to this. I’ll do it.”

“We agreed to take turns on this.”

“Yes, Russell. But sometimes, the rules are meant to be bent.”

George swivels his chair to Max, then. Fully attempts to pin him with his gaze, commencing an awkward stare-off that lasts way too many seconds and makes Max once again realise that George’s eyes remind him of the expensive fish tank he saw at the Partners’ sushi dinner once. Max doesn’t think those same fish were the ones they ended up eating. But he does remember that dinner because it was the one where the Partners had dangled the promise of a huge promotion if they could help carry the company merger across the line successfully. The problem is, there was only one spot.

George’s distracting aquatic orbitals aside, fortunately, Max (i) never backs down, and (ii) has been told that he has the dead-eyed emotional stare of a robot missing an empathy software upgrade sometimes.

And clearly, the powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.

Max leans back in his chair, stance all mock-relaxed. “Do you want to be out of here before midnight, or not?”

“We’re expensing the Ubers either way, so it doesn’t make a difference to me, mate.”

Fine. If George is so hyperfocused on The Tasks that he’s forgotten the fun part of being Questionably Close Coworkers, so be it.

Max deploys the nuclear option.

He sticks his leg out, nudging the toe of his Pradas onto George’s slacks. And strokes his foot halfway up to a sensitive point on George’s thigh. Max may even flutter his lashes a little.

To his credit, George does not react. Merely swings his eyes like a lamp to Max’s face again. His hand does, however, goes still on the mouse.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Max feigns. He knows that George hates, more than anything, anyone getting dirt on his precious Ralph Laurens. But at least he has his attention now. “Was hoping we could move onto the more fun part of the typical evening activities. Maybe.”

“We shouldn’t be doing that again anyway.”

“George.”

“What?”

“That is not what you said the last, hm, fourteen times that we have done this, eh?”

“Who’s counting?”

“I thought you were the most careful of rule followers and data analysis, knapperd.”

George is a human being, but Max is almost certain the other man shakes himself like he’s preening right now.

“Well. It’s what the team likes me for, and it’s what I’ll keep doing.”

“Oh yes. Surely we must keep in mind the team. And the shareholders. They are very important.”

“Quite.”

“But should we tell them that you like it so much, George. When I do this.” Max says. Rising up, fully crowding George in, hands gripping the cool handles of the computer chair. Leaning in to nibble the side of George’s neck.

George swallows. Max watches his throat move.

Next, Max mouths the words onto the side of George’s jaw, stubble prickling his mouth. “And this.”

The click of the mouse continues steadily as Max moves his mouth to the shell of George’s ear. “And let’s not forget. This.”

Max tilts George’s face up fully, then. George’s face is flushed, eyes sparkling, all surprise at the sudden change of pace, but eager, too.

When Max seals his lips over George’s, George groans, and his hands shoot up to Max’s waist immediately. It doesn’t feel quite like winning a deal or a pitch does for Max, but the completion comes pretty damn close.

Max sweeps his tongue into George’s mouth. George opens willingly, like he always does. In the back of Max’s logical brain, a warning sign blares that the computer chair may not be able to support the weight of them both – because they spend a lot of time pretending they don’t work out together at the gym but Max knows exactly what George’s deadlift PB is and it’s pretty damn high for a scrawny looking dude.

And despite the keening protest of said chair, the two of them are both lost to it now. Max jams one knee between George’s legs, George nibbles hungrily at Max’s lower lip, Max thrusts his hips all needy, and maybe if Max is nice about it George might suck him off under the table, and–

Outlook chimes again.

“Blasted piece of shit.” George says, breaking away. His hands go still at Max’s waist. “Why we’re using G-Suite and Microsoft Office at the same time I will never know.”

George squeezes his eyes shut, as if making himself stop this is causing him physical pain. Maybe it’s that or the workflow incompatibility when George tries to move his custom Excel-Trello gantts into a third party API.

And Max won’t lie. He kind of likes it when George gets so irritated about these things. When he cares a bit too much. Because what is Max but exactly like that, too.

“Hazards of a merger, I guess. But without that, I would never have met you, no?”

George makes a noise like he knows what Max means. The other man straightens his shirt collar, and Max runs a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, because George had made a passing comment at the bathroom sink once about it looking good.

Sleeping with the person competing for the same Chief of Staff position is possibly the worst decision he could’ve made, and Max once dyed his hair platinum blonde. But, they’re stuck here together. Hell is a slightly more tolerable place when Satan’s right hand man looks this good. And knows his coffee order without asking.

Besides. Max is not bothered. He knows that the promotion is his. This is just a minor plot inconvenience.

Later, they will expense the uber back to George’s place, where Max will put his mouth on George’s arse, and give him a practical demonstration of the three different ways he’s learned to elicit pleasure from the male prostate.

George will whimper and whine the whole way through it, and after they’re both sated, they’ll both roll over to check their emails, barely concealing their smiles. They will pretend that what’s happening between them could be as clean as their zero-email inboxes. As if their connection is not violently seeping through containment.

All in the name of team bonding. For the firm. Yes.

(Or this is what they tell themselves, to maintain the illusion, anyway.)

[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 6. Spring

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 6 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: Tito tries to tell her— he does— It’s just he needs to find the right time, and something keeps coming up. Evie’s honest with herself. But does that even matter? Mat decides maybe it is his time to intervene.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.8k // 44.5k

Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglist

II. Spring

Tito — April 8

Tito opens the fridge in his apartment and stares at the contents. A couple beers, water bottles, and Gatorade. He grimaces, picks up the expired milk sitting in the door, and grabs a bottle of water for the road. Deep in thought, he goes to pour the milk down the drain and rinse out the carton; he’s startled when the fridge beeps loudly. 

He walks back over to it to find the door is still ajar and pushes it closed. His eyes catch on the calendar hanging there. It's still showing February; he flips it forward a few pages to April.

His fingers trace the dates. Fuck. He bangs his head lightly against the cold metallic door as he's made startlingly aware that they're getting closer and closer to April 21, and he still hasn’t told her.

He needs to just rip off the band-aid.

He no longer has the excuse of her birthday weekend. He needs to do it today.

He spends the whole drive to her apartment thinking about what he’s going to say, writing and rewriting the speech in his head. He feels no more confident walking through her door than he did when he left his own apartment 15 minutes prior.

He hopes he’ll just figure it out on the fly.

“Chouette?” he calls from where he’s taking off his shoes.

“One second!” she calls from her bedroom. 

He chuckles to himself as he leans against the doorframe. A few seconds later, he sees Evie peek out briefly from behind the closet door and send him a blinding smile.

“Hi to you too, chou. What’s going on?”

“We’re going out!”

“We’re going out?”

“Yeah!” she declares.

He scratches his neck and tries to remember if there was something he had forgotten after the back-to-back this past weekend.

“Okay?” he asks, tentatively.

When she steps out into the bedroom, his mouth goes slack. She's wearing a cropped blazer, buttoned but with her bare chest underneath, and a pair of skin-tight leather pants. He tries to think of a single thing to say in this second other than the extremely mortifying “holy wow” that comes out of his mouth.

She laughs, throwing back her head of done-up curls, and does a twirl as she approaches him before stopping to wrap her arms around his waist. He wonders for a second if there’s a way to manually reboot his body like he does to his computer when it freezes.

“Hi Solours, we're going out to celebrate!” she beams up at him; without her shoes on, her chin rests on his chest. He sets his hands tentatively on her upper back.

“Oh?” he manages to babble. From this angle, he can tell in his peripheral vision that her breasts are on full display, and he adamantly refuses to look anywhere but right in her shining eyes.

“Yeah! The meeting with Elizabeth went great! They’re really looking forward to reading my book when I finish it soon. I’m getting signed to the agency!” Her eyes are so expressive as she speaks, the excitement and delight pouring into him through her gaze.

“That’s amazing,” he says softly, still not trusting his voice.

“Yep! Thank you so much for setting it up. It’s truly the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me. I want to take you out to celebrate! I’m thinking sushi!”

“We’re celebrating you, so wherever you want to go, chouchou.”

She rolls her eyes, “Are you going to let me pay this time, though?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” she whines, rehashing a conversation they’ve had dozens of times now.

“We agreed that you can take me out for dinner when you get that book deal and I become your trophy wife. Until then, I’m paying with my ridiculous NHL contract.”

She groans dramatically but is betrayed by the tug on her lips, “Ugh, fine.” She unattaches from him and gives him a gentle push toward the closet. “Go get changed and put on something nice. Maybe we can go find you a trophy wife at the bar after instead, eh?” 

He carefully hides his grimace as he looks back to see her still standing by the bedroom door, wiggling her eyebrows. Facing her still, he pulls his shirt off and grunts, “It’s a Monday, mon chou,” before he turns toward the open closet doors. He catches he staring at his chest, a slight chink in her armor, right before he turns.

“Not that I’ve picked up in over a month,” he mutters quietly to himself as he picks out a nice button-down and a pair of dark jeans.

Tito — April 9

Tito sits in his usual seat near the back of the team plane. He rests his head on the window and worries at his lip. He’s staring at the text on his phone:

it’s barzy baby: dude? have you fucking told her yet? 

He sighs and turns his phone completely off. He can just sit in silence on the rest of the hour-and-a-half flight to St Louis.

He turns his head and looks out of the window at the vast expanse of nothing. He has good reasons. He couldn’t tell her yesterday because she was so excited about her meeting. He obviously couldn’t tell her right as he was about to leave on a road trip. It just hasn’t been the right time yet.

This one’s only a short one-day road trip. He can tell her when he gets back.

Evie — April 10

matmat: whatcha doin To matmat: lol. just had dinner. procrastinating writing tbh. whats up? matmat: tito’s mia. probably pre-game nap. you wanna facetime?

Evie laughs and shakes her head. Sometimes, she gets what Tito says about Mat’s codependence. She usually quips that some kids just need a lot of attention.

She closes her laptop and presses ‘call’ as she makes herself another cup of tea.

“Eeeeveeeee!” she hears through her phone as soon as the call connects.

“Matmat!” she calls back, smirking.

“Urgh, when are you going to stop calling me that?”

“Never,” she states, smirking even harder.

“Not even if I stop calling you Eevee?” he whines.

“Nope.”

“God, fuck, you drive a hard bargain. What do I have to give you? A signed puck?”

She laughs, shaking her head as she moves around her kitchen; her phone's propped up against a candle that’s become her typical phone stand for when she FaceTimes Tito on the road while she cooks.

“Whatcha doin'?” he asks.

“Just making a cup of tea so I can get through this encounter.”

“Hey… Now I can’t be sure, but I feel like that was mean,” Mat’s tone light and playful. He waits patiently before eventually speaking again when she sits back down on the couch. “So, how’s my favorite author?”

She lets her head drop back heavily on the couch. “Oof, please don’t say author. The writing is going so slowly it hurts.”

“Sorry, sorry. Beau told me about the meeting! I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you, but it doesn’t mean anything for sure yet. Just that they're willing to give it a try when I’m done.”

“Well, Beau’s sure it’s going to be a hit, so I believe him.”

“He hasn’t even read it yet,” she whines, “how could he know that?”

“Well, ‘cause he’s—” he stops abruptly, eating his words in a very unusual manner. 

“Because..?” she prompts.

He recovers quickly, “Oh, I decided that saying he can’t read was a little too mean.”

She laughs. “Yeah, well… He did write me a really nice card for my birthday, so…” she says, her fingers subconsciously touching her necklace. 

She sees Mat’s wide smirk through the screen. 

“What?” she asks.

“Oh, just, that necklace was so fucking soft of him. I’ve never seen him buy anything like that before for anyone,” Mat says knowingly.

She cocks her eyebrows at him, “I’m sure that’s not true. He’s clearly a perfectly good gift giver.”

Mat snorts loudly. “No, trust me. He’s usually not. I mean, he’s not bad. He just usually forgets until like the last moment. Or gets something he thinks is cool. He got his last girlfriend a cactus for their one-year anniversary. A cactus. I literally couldn't fucking believe she didn’t shove it up his ass.”

“Oh my god,” Evie gasps through hooting laughter; there are tears in her eyes as Mat continues his animated retelling.

“A cactus, Evie! She was so mad Beau ran to the bathroom to text me in a fucking panic. I think I pissed myself laughing when he said he thought it was cute because cactuses don’t die or some dumb shit like that. And I had to explain to him how not a single girl ever has wanted a cactus as a gift from their boyfriend. When he went back out, he had to pretend that it was actually a symbol for a trip to Mexico that he had to then plan for them.”

“Okay, yeah. That’s pretty bad. Seems like he’s improved since then,” she says when she eventually stops laughing, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Not really. He wants to do so good, but he’s just sometimes so far off. But, like, with the necklace and the book agent stuff, I’ve never seen him do something like that before, Evie. Never. I’ve known him ten years,” Mat’s voice drops into a serious tone.

She shuffles uncomfortably in her seat and sips on her tea to avoid his eyes through the screen. She doesn’t want to know what she might see there.

After a moment of consideration, she inhales sharply and sighs. 

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” she redirects, keeping her voice light.

“Hopefully, not going home to BC until June,” he winks.

“Do you ever go out to Quebec in the summer?”

“Ah… Not usually. But you know, I used to see Tito every day, so…” He shrugs. “I’m not sure; maybe I’ll visit this summer. Or have him come to the lake house.”

“Yeah? That sounds fun. I don’t really know what his plan is, though. I know he’s going to spend most of the summer in Montreal, I guess.”

Mat pauses, sitting so stock still she thinks he’s frozen.

“Mat? Are you still there?”

He coughs, shaking his head, “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What about you? Where’s most of your family? Near Montreal?”

“My parents moved a couple hours away, but my brothers are still in Montreal, yeah. So I’ll probably visit them at some point. Maybe some of my friends in Toronto.”

They continue to chat about their respective childhoods in Quebec and BC for a while. They end up staying on the call to watch Tito’s game together, Evie laughing at Mat’s commentary of their play. 

She’s so tired by the time the game is over she doesn’t even register that Tito never calls her before bed like he usually does when he’s on the road.

Tito — April 11

Tito parks the car and sighs. He knows he can’t avoid this forever. He also knows there are unread messages burning a hole in his pocket; he’s memorized them already. 

it’s barzy baby: Beauvillier. u need to fucking tell her. i dont care if shes just a friend or you future fucking wife. this is fucked up.  it’s barzy baby: i know youre fucking ignoring me you dick. what the hell are you so scared of. just fucking do it. it’s barzy baby: fine, leave me on delivered. i know you’re seeing this. if you dont tell her soon, i will

He feels like he’s going to be sick. 

He sits there, just staring at the blank wall. His hands are still white-knuckled on the steering wheel; he bangs his head on the headrest. 

Tito’s tired. It’s almost the end of the season, and his body feels like it’s being held together by tape and glue. He doesn’t want to be thinking about the future. Not that his agent has been letting him forget the end of the season looming over him.

No. He’s angry. He especially doesn’t want to have to think about what the end of the season means for his friendship with Evie. This is why he didn’t want to get attached. He should've known better and just not gotten attached to anyone in this city, not even someone as incredible as Evie. 

If he’s honest with himself, he’s sad. He’s constantly being forced to leave people behind while feeling like he’s the one who’s being abandoned.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to leave her behind. For once, he just wants to be selfish, to just plant his feet and scream no. He wants to ask for more from Evie; he wants to be able to have everything with her. If she feels the same way he does, then maybe she would come with him if he begged her to.

Tito knows that’s not going to happen, so he needs to just get it together. He takes a deep breath and takes another glance at his phone. It’s been fifteen minutes since he parked the car. He knows this is getting ridiculous. The shame and guilt constrict around him a little tighter still. 

He decides to do the easier of the two things first.

To it’s barzy baby: fuck barz why is this so hard? its worse than overtime in a gm 7  it’s barzy baby: just rip the fucking band-aid. she’s not going to be mad. To it’s barzy baby: i’m sorry about ignoring you it’s barzy baby: dw i already knew you were an idiot. fucking GO!!!!!!

Tito closes his eyes and opens the car door. Taking a steadying breath as he steps out, he just lets his body move on auto-pilot all the way to her couch.

“Hi, Solou. Are you okay?” Evie says, waving a hand in front of his face.

“I’m leaving next week,” he blurts out. He curses himself inside for not planning this out.

“What? Like on the road trip?” Evie smiles, reaching over to squeeze his knee, “I know that already, bud. Last roadie of the season.”

“No, no… Fuck. Sorry. That was not how that sentence was supposed to come out,” Tito sighs and takes her hand. He marvels at the way her soft hands are dwarfed by his own, running a finger reverently over the little notes she’s left for herself on the back of her hand. A fond smile tugs at his lips, entirely out of his control, and he sighs.

“Solou?” she nudges gently.

“Oh, right,” he stiffens a little before meeting her eyes again. He hopes he can memorize her face enough that he won’t forget where each birthmark and dimple is. He swallows hard, shaking his head, hoping that will bring some clarity and focus. He drags a hand through his hair, making his wool tuque fall onto the couch behind him. He turns to look for the hat behind him. 

Evie tugs on his hand gently, “Tito, what were you going to tell me?”

He sighs, abandoning the search. “I—” He takes a deep breath. “Ma chouette, I’m going to be going home next week. After locker clean out.”

“Oh,” she falters before adding, “You’re flying back or driving with your stuff?”

“Ah… Flying. I found a service that can do the packing and moving for me once I know where I’m going next, so at least I don’t have to do that, I guess.”

“Oh, okay.” She stays quiet for a bit; Tito forces himself to sit as still as he can, his heart pounding in his chest. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport— When’s your flight?”

“It’s really early on April 21st, like right after the party. So, I was planning on just taking a Lyft…” his voice trails off, the lump in his throat making it increasingly difficult for him to speak.

She sends him a taut smile, “That makes sense. Are you excited to go home?”

He rubs his thumb on the back of her hand and stares blankly at her face, an ache blooming in his chest. He doesn’t know what hurts worse at this moment: the fact that he’s leaving or the fact that it doesn’t seem to really bother Evie. With great effort, he forces a smile on his face.

“Yeah, I guess. It’ll be nice to see my parents, Franky, and the babies. They’re so big now.” He uses his fondness for his nephews to wedge some levity into his voice.

“Aww,” she coos, “that’ll be nice, right? Get some time with family and away from hockey for a bit.”

“Well, I’m never too far from hockey. Everyone I see in the summer plays hockey.”

She nudges him fondly, “Not your baby nephews.”

It draws a genuine laugh from him. “I guess that’s true,” he says.

Evie smiles in response, a hint of sadness in her eyes, “You know I’ll miss you, right?”

His voice is strained when he lets go of her hand to pull her in for a tight hug. “I’ll miss you too, mon chou. I’ll miss you too.”

“I think you’re my best friend,” she whispers.

He swallows down the words he wants to say— forcefully— before replying gently, “I think you’re my best friend too, Evie. I think you’ve been my best friend for a while now.”

They stay like that for some time, just breathing in tandem. With Evie in his arms, his body feels a little less like his veins are filled with cement. 

Eventually, with a voice barely louder than a whisper, he murmurs, “Do you think you’ll come home at some point in the summer? I want to see you again.”

She hums, and he feels the vibrations ring through his bones. “Yeah, I usually go home for Fête nationale. So probably, somewhere around the end of June.”

“Oh,” he says, “Okay. Well, promise to tell me when you’re coming? I’ll make sure I’m free.”

“Of course, Solou. But you don’t have to clear your calendar for me.”

“I know. I want to,” Tito whispers into her hair, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

Evie — April 16 

Evie's sitting on the floor in front of her couch next to Alandra, Kelsey, and Leanne. Alandra is telling some story about the Maldives, waving her glass of wine wildly. Evie dutifully laughs at the right moments, but she’s barely listening. Her eyes float to the TV, watching the boys warming up, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tito.

She had gone around early today, picking up some of Tito’s things so that he’d have an easier time packing when he comes back from his road trip. There is a pile of his clothes in an empty suitcase in the corner of her room and a space in her closet that sits glaringly empty.

She takes a big gulp of her wine and refills her glass.

“What you thinkin’ about, Gigi?” Alandra asks, apparently done with her story.

“Hmm?” she tries not to spill her wine. “Um, not much, just… You know… Summer.”

“You got any fun plans?”

“Yeah, you going to spend some quality time with a certain someone,” Leanne winks.

“No,” Evie rolls her eyes and doesn’t quite catch the sigh that falls from her lips. “I think I’m going to visit family for a bit, so I’ll see him then, but no real plans.”

The girls exchange a look over the coffee table. 

“Do you wish there was?” Kelsey pushes gently.

“I mean, I would love to go to the Maldives. That sounds fun as hell.” Evie knows that’s not what they’re asking, but maybe, for once, they’ll let her get away with it.

“With Beau?”

“Oof, that man with his shirt off on a beach— I think I’d have a heart attack,” Alandra says.

Leanne elbows her tauntingly, “You’re married. And besides, that one’s taken.” She points to the screen that's showing Tito on the ice for anthems.

The corner of Evie’s lip quirks, thinking about the way his muscles ripple when he’s getting changed. A heat surges through her, so intense and sudden it almost makes her choke on her wine. 

“God, he does look good under there,” she confesses quietly.

They screech upon hearing that, Leanne reaching for the remote to mute the TV.

“What did you just say?”

“You’ve seen him naked?”

They’re all speaking at once, voices crescendoing on top of each other. Evie shakes her head and takes another sip of her wine, hoping they’ll tire each other out.

“The game’s starting, guys,” she tugs the remote from Leanne’s hand and turns the volume back on.

“Fine, be that way. We’re talking about this at the first intermission.”

The focus does remain on the game for the whole first period, bleeding over into intermission a little as they discuss the bullshit penalty that was called on Jason. Evie hopes that it’s enough to distract them for a while longer; she shouldn’t have been that optimistic.

“Okay, enough hockey talk. More on this. So,” Alandra starts, “Tell us more about how good Beau looks naked.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically. “I haven’t seen Tito naked. He just gets changed sometimes in front of me.”

“Okay, but you’ve got to admit that that’s on purpose, right?” Kelsey chides.

“Yeah. Like, there’s no way he’s not doing that on purpose,” Leanne adds, nodding eagerly.

“Why does it even matter?” Evie groans.

“Because he likes you, Genevieve!” Leanne yells.

Evie rolls her eyes hard. “Not like that, he doesn’t. There’s no— It doesn’t even matter. Okay?”

Kelsey pitches forward and bangs her head on the wooden coffee table. “Oh my god, she’s so stupid,” she mutters into the wooden surface.

“Hey! That’s mean,” Evie protests.

“No, Kels is right. You're so stupid. Like you’re one of the smartest people I know, but you are truly so fucking stupid,” Leanne points at her accusingly, standing up.

“Why am I stupid?” she whines.

“Honey,” Alandra says, smiling and shaking her head, “The man went out and bought you a $200 mug you’ve been looking at for ages without you even telling him you wanted it. He made you a custom necklace. He asked a former teammate for the number of another guy in the league so that he could ask Zach Hyman for the details of his literary agent to help you reach your dream. For your birthday. After knowing you for only, like, three months, Gigi. Do you not see how insane that is?”

“Yeah, he’s a really good friend. I don’t understand—”

She's cut off by Leanne screeching “Oh my god!” from the kitchen.

“What?” Evie squawks back, alarmed.

Kelsey, whose head is still on the coffee table, just mutters, “So so stupid.”

“Honey, I know you know that this isn't normal friend behavior. Only someone who really loves you would put this much—” Alandra starts gently before being cut off by a huffing Leanne, who flicks Evie on the forehead.

“Are you being intentionally dense?” she enunciates every syllable bluntly, “Because like— Oh my god, I’m just gonna say it. Tito is in love with you—”

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is. He is in love with you, and you're in love with him,” Leanne stares at her intensely.

Evie just stares back, opening and closing her mouth. 

Beside her, she hears Alandra suggest gently, “Okay, the game's starting back up, but we will continue this conversation later.”

For the next forty-five minutes, Evie just stares blankly at the TV. She doesn’t register anything that's going on on the ice and barely interacts with the ongoing commentary in her living room. 

All she can think about is Tito. 

The thing is, she has never met anyone like Tito before. He's so full of joy. Sure, he’s not happy all of the time. He openly talks to her about the things he's struggling with: the trades, all the contract talks, and his concern about his skill as an NHL player. 

There’s just something about him that's so joyous. He brightens every room he walks into. It’s unlike anything she’s ever seen. It would be impossible not to be drawn in by the gravity of his sunny smile. Impossible not to get locked into his orbit.

To add to that, he backs it up with his kindness, earnestness, and genuineness. She doesn’t compare him— she doesn’t— to Pierre. She just thinks about how different she feels now compared to a year ago. She knows that over the past few months with Tito— around Tito— she has never once gotten the urge to hide in a bathroom and cry as quietly as possible. 

He has shown time and time again that he cares. He always takes her feelings seriously and has never once made her feel like she was being dramatic. He listens. He puts his phone down when she talks and looks her in her eyes. He's genuinely invested in her career. No one has ever gone out of their way to try to help her like that before.

He's her best friend, there’s no doubt about it. He’s probably going to be the best friend she will ever have. No matter if they stay in touch when he moves. She can’t imagine anyone being better than him. She knows she’s a better person now than when they met in December.

And he is so fucking hot, her brain supplies, unhelpfully. She quickly shoves that thought back down, along with all the mental images of his shirtless body, his boxer-clad hockey butt, and the way his mouth curls and face shines when he smiles. The feeling of his soft hair in her fingers and his soft lips on her mouth. Those things are irrelevant.

Evie doesn’t even notice the period of hockey ending. She doesn’t even notice Kelsey getting up to use the bathroom or Alandra going to grab a snack. 

Eventually, when they all return, Leanne gives her a soft squeeze on her arm.

“So, you’ve been deep in thought. Are you ready to admit that you're in love with each other?”

Evie sighs, “It doesn’t matter if I love him or not.”

“What do you mean?” Kelsey presses gently.

She shrugs, hugging her knees to her chest, “He’s taking a flight home in 5 days, and he’s probably not going to be back here next season.”

“Okay? Well, ask him to stay,” Leanne says bluntly.

“It’s not that— I can’t do that. Even if I want to, which I'm not saying I do, I don’t want to start something with him when he’s vulnerable like that. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Vulnerable like what, Gigi?”

Evie sighs and battles with herself whether she should share the things Tito has told her on this very couch. She settles on this, “He’s in a contract year. He doesn’t know where he’ll be next season, or what that next contract's even going to look like. What he does this summer is going to impact the rest of his career. He needs to focus on that. He needs to be focusing on what he wants.”

“What if you are what he wants?” Kelsey asks gently.

Evie shakes her head vigorously, “It doesn’t matter. It would be a distraction. And I can’t— It would be selfish of me to tell him anything right now. I can’t be selfish. He has to figure out what he wants. And pick what’s best for his career.”

A somber silence blankets the room while everyone processes what she’s said.

Eventually, Leanna speaks up. “Will you tell him after he signs his next contract?”

Evie bites her lip and picks at the loose thread on her sweatpants. “Probably not. We both need to focus on our careers right now and try— Look, I said that I wanted to be single for a while, after Pierre. It’s probably still too soon. I don’t want to bring any of that shit into whatever I do next.”

“Genevieve, you know, there’s no right timeline for finding someone after a break-up. Besides, it’s been almost a year. And we all know that this isn’t a rebound,” Alandra offers gently, “Trust me when I say this: when you know, you know.”

Evie nods, willing herself not to cry. There's nothing to even cry over. “Well, it doesn’t matter right now. I’m happy to be friends with him; even if that’s all I ever get, I’ll be so happy. Whatever else I feel now will pass.”

The girls exchange a look and turn back to the TV when the third period starts.

Leanne leans over and puts an arm around her shoulder. “Well, you know we're here for you. Whatever you decide. I’m sorry if I was a bit pushy. I just want you to be happy.”

“I know.”

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[minjunz]

how nct dream sleep!

i’m so uninspired lol but i thought this might be a cute idea for something short

MARK 🍉

mario position. one arm up under his pillow, one arm down, one leg up, one leg down.

doesn’t mind if you hog the blanket at night (he probably doesn’t notice)

snores but very lightly it’s kinda cute

doesn’t move that much but he will kinda jostle about

talks in his sleep but it’s always nonsensical babbling

sometimes you wake up and his arm is draped across your neck and you can’t get up

wakes up every time you make the tiniest noise thinking it’s a murderer in your house

every morning it’s like his first day on earth he literally doesn’t know where he is

RENJUN 🍓

falls asleep on his back with the covers up to his chin but wakes up on his side with the covers halfway down his body

always needs something to hug to sleep and it used to be a moomin plushie but he’s recently upgraded to you

makes really quiet blocked breathing noises like a cat

sometimes you open your eyes and he’s laying there squinting at the ceiling. he never realises he’s doing it

gets too hot in the middle of the night and just throws the blanket off both of you

smiles a lot in his sleep. you assume he’s dreaming about you because of how often he says your name

always thirsty he has seven cups next to his bed

he sleeps with like thirteen pillows there’s barely enough room for both of you

JENO 🍒

lays on his back and closes his eyes for three seconds then he’s out like a brick

you can’t wake him up unless you start screaming and suffocating him

makes no sounds. he’s basically a corpse in your bed

sometimes his own body wakes him up in the middle of the night and he hugs you like a body pillow out of nowhere

sleeps ON TOP of the covers. he’s a menace. you must put a stop to him

he fell asleep holding your hand once and you couldn’t get out of his grasp no matter how hard you tried

he’ll go to sleep fully dressed with multiple layers then wake up in just his pants and neither of you know how it happens

he only spoke in his sleep one time and it was because he was fighting Haechan

HAECHAN 🍎

refuses to go to sleep until you’re in bed and refuses to get up until you’re up

it’s like having a son. you try to wake him up and he says “five more minutes” every time but five minutes is an hour to him

likes to roll you both up like sushi

purposefully tangles himself in your limbs even when it’s too hot. especially when it’s too hot.

likes sleeping to music but then he complains that his battery went down in the morning

asks for a goodnight kiss every night

he moves so much. he keeps hitting you in the face because of how much he moves at night. he will literally wake up upside down

whines in his sleep like he’s being chased by something and you have to wake him up to make sure he’s not dying

JAEMIN 🍅

either out like a light like jeno or won’t sleep at all

sometimes you’ll wake up and he’s just laying there staring at nothing

when he is asleep though he won’t wake up unless his body wakes him up. this man could sleep through a bomb hit

sleeps with his mouth open and makes dad style mouth noises so you have to clamp it shut by force

not much of a sleep talker but he jumps every now and again when he’s having a nightmare

sleeps either on his back or foetal position

i feel like he listens to podcasts or audiobooks to sleep

doesn’t move much either he just kinda wiggles

CHENLE 🌶

snores like a dad in a hotel room.

sometimes he laughs in his sleep as well and it’s so frightening you almost kick him out of bed

drinks warm milk every night. you told him it doesn’t do anything but he swears by it

looks like you’ve just told him the world is ending every time you wake him up

likes to talk before you go to sleep. like just chats about your day and whatnot

sleeps on top of you in the starfish position just to be annoying

wakes up screaming in the middle of the night sometimes. you punched him once out of shock

i feel like he likes having a night light on or a star projection or something. just not pitch black

JISUNG 🍇

sleeps like a baby curled up next to you or with your head on his arm

the most normal sleeper out of all of them i think

no disruptions throughout the night except the odd toilet break

doesn’t like being woken up but if it’s you then he doesn’t mind as long as you give him a morning kiss

likes playing with your hair while he falls asleep

he always needs the fan going for both the white noise and the cooling

he gets blocked noses a lot so sometimes he makes strangled noises but you can sleep through it

refuses to wear socks in bed and takes them off you if you do

[livsgovan69]

Do you want a baby

Notes: Chris and you try for a baby after seeing your friends baby. 

Timeline: IDK 

Warnings: Smut with family fluff

It’s been months since we’ve seen our friends. Jason and Layla had a baby, Abel, last September and he turned a year old not too long ago. We couldn’t make it to the party, unfortunately, but we planned to surprise them (despite having already checked if they were free the day we planned to go). Chris left the party city with a 

“Happy Birthday” balloon and wrapping paper PJ Masks themed. As Chris drove I wrapped the gift we already had for the baby. It wasn’t the best, but on the road, it was the best it was going to get. I should’ve told Chris to buy a gift bag. Layla and Abel were already outside when we arrived. Her smile widened as we got out the car. On her hip was the little bub we hadn’t seen in so long. 

“Hiiiii!” I dragged out, giving them both huge hugs. 

“Say hi, Abel.” She picked up his small hand and he babbled a Hi and other nonsense I didn’t understand. My heart swooned. Chris wrapped his arm around my waist and crouched low enough to make faces at Abel. 

“Oh you’re huge now!” He says, tickling his side. Abel gave a smile but it quickly faltered. He shuffled off his mom’s hip and grabbed her hand as he made his way to the door, wobbly like his head was too heavy for his body. 

“Please come in.”  Layla says, relentlessly drawn by her one year old. 

“Jason’s on a grocery run, told him to pick up some sushi on the way. Have you guys eaten?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“Perfect.” We spent the next thirty minutes laughing and sitting back. Chris played with Abel, mindlessly bored without Jason here; but he still added his feedback like he was paying attention to our conversation while he raced toy cars with Abel. I knew him enough that he probably was listening, just not enough to not give any attention to the child. That’s what I liked about him. The front door sprung open, followed by a knock. 

“Hey! Hey!” Jason greeted a with a big smile, grocery bags and a six pack juggling in his hands. Both Abel and Chris looked up with identical happy smiles. Abel lifted himself on one knee and lopsidedly crawled across the floor to his dad. By then, Jason put the groceries on the table and outstretched his arms to catch his baby. He swung him up and threw him into the air until Abel giggled. It suddenly made me think of Chris and how he’s like with his nieces and nephews; how he could possibly be with his own. 

“Chris! Diana !” I stood up and followed after Chris. They shared a brotherly hug and I gave him a greeting kiss on the cheek. 

“I’ve got beers, wine, sushi. Please, make yourselves at home.” I couldn’t deny that I missed this— hanging with our friends and catching up on our lives, sharing funny stories and choking on our food from how much laughter we brought out of each other. After Abel fell asleep and the loud fun was over, Layla sent the guys off to Jason’s man-cave, desperately needing me alone. 

“Sooooo,” she says. It’s one of those dragged out so’s that means she’s expecting news. She has me stretched out, shoeless feet on the couch, glass of wine in hand, and a toy I can’t seem to grasp poking at the small of my back. I steal a cracker from the half-eaten tray in front of us and smile just to give her the same energy. 

“Sooooo.” She laughs.

“You’re not gonna tell me what’s up!” 

“What do you mean?” I laughed. 

“You’re not pregnant.” My eyes flung wide. 

“No— oh god, do I look pregnant?” 

“No, I’m just saying you and Chris look…” she searched for the word.

“What?” I got nervous with every second of silence. 

“Healthy.” I could feel my eyes brows raise unconsciously. Did we not look healthy before? Like she read my mind, she followed after her sentence quickly. 

“I don’t mean you didn’t look healthy before, I’m just saying you look so happy, so gleeful and bright. Just thought you had exciting news, that’s all.” 

“Well, I’m not pregnant.” I answer, seriously so she wouldn’t think otherwise. 

“But Chris and I are happy, incredibly so. And very healthy.” She hummed and nodded like she wasn’t fully convinced I wasn’t telling her everything. 

“Tell me about the anniversary.” She grabbed a cracker from the tray. A grin grew on my face. She looked up at me and her smile matched mine. 

“Uh oh, I know that face. What’d he do? Because he didn’t knock you up, that’s for sure.” I pushed her shoulder and she laughed. I smiled.  

“We just ate dinner the two of us,” I smiled wider. 

“then he went down on me like five times.” She laughed like a school girl and suddenly I felt like a teenager again. 

“Then it was just the best sex of my life.” 

“Oh. My. God. Every detail, now.” 

“Hard, rough, so much dirty talk— he kept talking about how pretty I would look with his baby inside of me— I have never cummed so hard and so fast, Lay, I’m serious.” 

She laughed hysterically, I hushed her like she forgot her child was sleeping upstairs. She covered her mouth and scooted closer like she had a secret. 

“I remember me and Jason’s anniversary.” Her eyes widened. 

“Last year. That’s when Abel was conceived.” 

“You’re kidding.” She shook her head. 

“That’s why I thought maybe you were— I don’t know.” She looked down at my stomach. I patted it and shook my head. 

“Well, I’m not.” There was a shift in energy, I wasn’t sure why. The excitement was sucked from us and the air grew thick. She knew better than me, her face showed it. 

“Have you talked to him about kids?” 

“I mean, obviously. We just- we’ve both been busy, there’s not enough time to think about it too much. We just know we want them, yknow.” She nodded. She poked my side and set her wine aside. 

“You should tell him.” “What exactly?” She drops her head on my shoulder and hugs me. 

“That you want one now.” Did I want one now, though? A child that would give us ten times more responsibilities than we have?… I do. I look at Layla and all the toys on the floor. I look at every bit of evidence that proves they have a bundle of joy, and envy it. I do want it. I want it bad, and I want it now. 

“Ok.” I tell her. It’s dark out now. Chris has Billy Joel low, humming along to some of the songs as he drives. But I keep thinking about what Layla said and reimagine that night of our anniversary: instead of him pulling out, he fills me with his warm cum. I crave it more now, to the point where my legs close shut for a small sense of relief. Slowly, his hand cascaded along my thigh. I looked at him and he smiled, glancing back and forth from the road. 

“You okay? You’ve been a bit quiet since we left.” 

“Just feel a bit tired, that’s all.” Confusion fled his face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” We entered the garage and he shut the engine off, but he grabbed my knee again before I could get up. 

“Baby-“ I looked back at him and smiled, but his eyes told he saw through my facade. He always could. 

“Something’s on your mind, talk to me.” 

“…Over some wine and cereal?” He rolled his eyes but smiled. 

“As long as you talk to me!” 

“I will, promise.” I kissed his cheek. Once inside, we went our separate ways: Chris to our bedroom, and me to the kitchen. Dodger kept circling around my legs every time I opened a new cabinet. He was looking for treats; I was looking for a cup and some wine. I got two glasses and poured 1982 Pavillon Rouge wine, it was one of the good ones we had stored at the very top. Then, I felt his hand. His soft, large hands circle around my waist and push me against him. His lips grazed under my ear and I let him see through me. I shut my eyes and let every guard I put up for myself turn into liquid. I wanted him to know everything, let him have control over me, do everything he wanted and more. 

“You wanna talk to me now?” He grumbled against my neck, pressing a chaste kiss there before pulling back and turning my head to his. His fingers were delicate under my chin, but I didn’t look at him. He turned me by the waist but didn’t let me leave him, he pressed me right back into his chest. 

“Look at me, baby.” I opened my eyes. 

“Tell me.” 

“Chris,” the words seemed so simple but somehow felt so difficult . It’s just Chris, I reminded myself— my comfort, my love, my husband; I love him, I want this with him, I want him to give this to me. I said his name again. He kissed my head and cheek then looked back into my eyes. Please, it’s just me, they said. 

“I want a baby.” The tightness left my chest and he smiled. 

“You know how much I love you, right?” He asked. I knew, but I had a feeling he was going to tell me regardless. He kissed my lips so hard I thought they would bruise by the end of it. 

“I love you so much,”—he kissed them again— 

“you don’t understand just how long I’ve been waiting to give you this—“ again. 

“to get you pregnant—“ again. 

“to see you big and full of my baby—“ again and again and again. I was smiling like an idiot now. 

“God.” He murmured breathlessly against my lips. Somewhere between one sip of wine and making our way up the stairs to our bedroom, our clothes were being pulled off one by one. His lips traveled up and down my bare shoulder, his hand caressed my breast, the other my ass, and all I could do was breathe him in and pull his hair to show him he’s doing all the right things. He knows, though. He always knows. His lips went up to mine, he took them between his, softer and more sensual than the last. He hiked my legs to wrap over his waist and he positioned himself. I felt him on me, his bare tip brushing my slit. He looked at me and smiled, I smiled back— then I moaned. 

“Chris!” I grabbed his arm.

“Fuck.” He was fully inside me, digging into everywhere I needed. He kissed my knee with a furrow in his brows. Then he pulled out, now only inches in me. 

“How much do you want this?” He asked. 

“So much.” He thrusted back into me and groaned under his breath. 

“How much?” 

“Fuck, Chris, so much.” And again, he pulled out and thrusted back in. 

“Yeah?” I could already feel myself losing my voice. I nodded and looked at him, right above me. He kissed my swollen lips then kissed my head. 

“I’ll give it to you, Diana . I’ll give you anything you want and more— Fuck, I could give you the world if I could. You deserve it, you deserve it so much.” He fucked me, hard, slow, fast. His lips went to my neck, shoulders, cheeks, forehead, lips, and ears. And his hands pinched my ass, waist, and thighs. He gave me every bit of love he could express through this while he finished inside me and gave me what I wanted. I sighed, satisfied, wasted. He gave me his all, and three orgasms. I was wasted. He pulled out of me, wearily. His fingers touched my sticky thighs and went into me. 

“What are you-“ 

“Gotta make sure it works.” He smirks with weary eyes. He was pushing every bit of cum that leaked out back into me before he licked his fingers off. 

“Wait here.” He said as if I could move with how tired I was. He came back with a wet towel and wiped me clean, he helped me up, sat me on the toilet and watched me pee. He was smiling, I was smiling, but I wanted him to tell me what his reason for looking at me so dazed was. 

“What?” I asked.

 “I can’t wait.” He said. He leaned down to kiss me. 

“I can’t wait to meet her, spoil her, raise her with you. I can’t wait.” 

“What makes you so sure it’ll be a girl?” 

“I don’t know, but I’m hoping for someone like you; just as amazing, just as beautiful.” He kissed me. The next morning, Chris insisted we make love again, just in case it didn’t work. And all those attempts must’ve because only two weeks later were we staring down at a positive pregnancy test, kissing, crying, and already searching for baby names.

[pudgybun]

I wanna eat and hang out on stream but I have no fewds </3

[beannary]

I would literally do anything for some fried chicken rn but it’s 11 pm so nowhere is open and also I’m not hungry so I have to wait till tomorrow 😭

[twistedappletree]

WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE KELP OUTSIDE I LIVE INT HE DESERT

[andysorbit]

Everywhere, Everywhere

Minors DNI

Sub!Renjun x top, black, fem!reader

Warnings: subby vibes, fluffy vibes, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, overstimulation, Renjun is a fkn lil guy

♡♡♡♡

The first time you see Renjun is at a party Mark throws and it's the particular way his eyes light up when you look at him. You're not usually into parties but he made you really happy that you decided to show up. "I- um... you're Mark's friend? I'm his friend too uh... I'm Renjun." He says. His cheeks are rosy and you think he's drunk but Jesus, he's so pretty and his smile is too shy for his own good. Gentle. Pretty. Shy. Warm. Those are the words that come to you as you converse with Renjun. His laughter, his voice, the way he leans into you to show you photos from an art gallery he went to a few days earlier. He's the sweetest drunk boy you've ever met.

The next time you see Renjun is in the Sears that's going out of business in a month. His long dark hair is partially dyed silver beneath. He has knick-knacks and sweaters in a clear, giant reusable shopping back and when he sees you, he waves and smiles so big that it's like watching the sunrise. He's beautiful. "Y/n! Hey!" He says sweetly. You two shop together and you learn that he likes clutter items because his parents were neat freaks and liked everything in its place. He overshares a bit but you don't mind because you'll never repeat anything he says to anyone else. He likes that you remember things as he tells you and when you mention those things, he beams because his parents weren't big on talking or listening so he learned to be his own company. He tells you how shy he used to be and how he's gotten so much more social since he's been on his own and how his therapist told him that he should start doing the things that his parents had told him wouldn't benefit him. You listen and you agree because his therapist is right. You're glad he's coming out of his own head and you're glad that he's happy. He asks you for your phone number and says he looks forward to talking with you more.

You see Renjun again at a red light a week later and it's cold and rainy. He waves to you and you both roll your windows down to greet each other. You both just so happen to be going to the same sushi bar near the docks. You both park your cars and when you get out, you embrace in the rain and his hugs are even warmer than his smile. He hugs you like he means it and it's strong but gentle and when you separate, he smiles again, "It's so nice to see you." He says. "Likewise." You reply. You talk over sushi and cheap beer and he's funny. You share stories about growing up, college, and how different life is from what you both expected it to be. You learn that Renjun wanted to be a veterinarian but somehow ended up working as a DJ for a local station. You promise to listen to his show every morning. When you finish eating, Renjun asks you if you want to ride with him further down the docks to look at the water and of course you do because this night could last forever as long as you're with him. When he parks his car, he turns to look at you, "I come down here a lot. It's quiet and the water is really beautiful." He says. "I used to come down here a lot but then I kinda just stopped one day. I wish I hadn't stopped. So much has changed down here and it's really cool." You say. He nods, "Maybe we can come down here together? It gets lonely sometimes." You sit in silence for a while and watch the waves dash back and forth. Renjun reaches over and takes your hand in his. It isn't like he's trying to be suave or seductive. It's just a gesture and it feels nice. It feels comforting and you think that maybe he just doesn't have the words to tell you that he likes this time your're sharing. "You know, I um... just go with me on this for a minute, okay?" He pipes up nervously. "Hm?" You say. "I wanna kiss you and I kinda feel like you wanna kiss me but I could be wrong? Am I wrong?" He babbles. You kiss him and he sighs as he melts into you. It's sweet and warm and his hands come up to touch your face. He kisses you with that same sincerity he has when he held your hand and you feel him etch his initials into your spirit.

You see Renjun more and more until finally, he invites you to his apartment for a sleepover and when you arrive at his door with your overnight bag, he beams with excitement. He can't cook so he orders pizza and you drink partially frozen red wine that he had put in his freezer at the last minute and forgotten about. He's nervous and it's obvious but he pushes through it. "I um... we can share my bed or you can have my bed and I can sleep on the couch." He says as he reaches for your discarded pizza crust. "I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch, Renjun. That's crazy." You laugh. He blushes and looks away, "So you'll sleep with me in my bed then." After you clean up from dinner and get ready for bed. Renjun browses movies to watch and you both agree on Open Season. He's never seen it and you love it so it's perfect. You snuggle into each other and the movie is better than you remember it being because his laughter makes it even better.

As the end credits roll, he turns to you and laughs, "I think I'd like to watch this again tomorrow." He says. "We can watch it while we have breakfast." You chuckle. He kisses you and it feels different. It's more demanding and a little less gentle but it feels wonderful. Renjun pulls away and you see the conflict in his eyes. "Are you okay?" You ask him. He smiles sheepishly and presses his lips to yours again, "I'm... I've never um... gone this far. I want it though... fuck." He whispers and his hands slide up your pajama top. "Me too... I want it- I mean... I've done this before. Not a lot though." You ramble. For the first time, you look him in his pretty eyes and you're nervous. "I don't care. It's okay. Let's do it then... you take the lead." He says softly against your lips and he's so warm. His hand reaches out for yours and he brings it to his chest. There's something he's not saying and you're scared to read him wrong. "Please... just... touch me." He whispers. You reach out to palm him and he writhes against your touch, "Please, Y/n." He begs. You sit up on your haunches and he tugs down his pants. He blushes as his dick falls heavily against his stomach and you need so badly to tell him how gorgeous he is. So you do. It tumbles out of your mouth clumsily and his breath catches in his throat, "Say it again? Please?" He whimpers and you wrap your hand around his leaking cock. He moans and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. "You're gorgeous, Renjun. Really you are." You tell him softly and he kisses you again. You break the kiss and pull back to watch his face as you stroke him. "Y/n... oh... oh God, yes." He whimpers and you smile because you know he's close. His hair falls into his face and he grips the sheets tightly as you bring him closer and closer. "Cum for me, baby." You whisper as you catch his lips against yours with a soft kiss. He whimpers and releases as you continue milking him. You're really taking a chance on this but somehow you already have a feeling that Renjun loves this just based alone on how he doesn't even try to push your hand away. "Yes, yes, yes... oh fuck... fuck! Please- I- fuck!" He babbles desperately. He bucks his hips and you keep going, "Does that feel good?" You ask him. He looks at you and his teary eyes pierce yours, "Don't stop... please, please, Y/n... do it again." You feel your insides swell with pride as he gazes at you like you're the center of his universe and he cums once more.

You kiss him and he falls back and thumps his head against his headboard and he laughs. "Ouch." He says with a whine, "I'm not done... I just... I need a minute." You lay next to him and smile, "Take your time." You tell him. When he catches his breath, he sits back up and tackles you onto your side, "Can I?" He asks you as he dips his fingers into your shorts. "Yeah." You sigh. He wastes no time sliding his hand into your shorts and slipping them past your folds. "You're so wet." He moans. He pulls his hand out and slides his fingers into his mouth with a satisfied hum before going back into your shorts. You writhe as he rubs your clit slowly. "Please... tell me you like it. I wanna hear you say it, Y/n. Am I doing it right?" He almost begs you. You place your hand over his, "You're doing so good, baby. You feel so good." You moan. Renjun blushes again and slows down his pace, "How about now?" He asks playfully. "Renjun, be good." You say softly. His eyes perk up and he quickens his pace, "Can I fuck you?" "Are you gonna be a good boy?" You ask him teasingly. He nods, "Uh huh. I'll be good." He groans as he takes your shorts off and then his own. "I want you under me." You tell him as you push him onto his back and climb on top of him. You sink down on him and he whines, "God, you feel so good." It floats past his lips so sweetly and you ride him gently as you watch his pretty face contort in pleasure. It doesn't take him long to get close again and you pull away from him and stroke him. "I want you to cum." He whispers and as you stroke him, he strokes you. You both release together and he presses his forehead to yours, "Thank you." He pants. "Thank you." You chuckle.

When Renjun invites you out to go to the mall, you're more than happy to agree. Work has had you both a bit caught up so there isn't much time for anything more than morning and evening texts and voice notes. When you get into the mall, Renjun is seated on a bench near the water fountain. He pops up and you two embrace as you always do. This time, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It's a wonderful gesture considering he's expressed his disdain for public intimacy. "Come on, I wanted to buy us matching bracelets." He tells you and takes your hand. As you walk into Spencer's, he leads you to the jewelry, "Which one do you like the best?" He asks. Your eyes roam over bracelets and land on a rack with bracelets adorned with initials. You find one for your initial and one for Renjun's. He smiles. "I feel special." You chuckle. "You are." He replies. You watch his eyes wander past you and he blushes. It's his signature brand. He's almost always very forward with you but his shy demeanor makes even his most brazen acts as sweet as sugar. You turn to follow his gaze and you see the collars. "Do you want one?" You ask, "Pick one out and I'll buy it for you." He shakes his head, "You pick it. I'll like whatever you get." He tells you softly. You bring him over to the rack and he fidgets eagerly. You browse for a minute and see one that you're almost positive he's been staring at. It's lavender and it has one word etched across the front:

SLUT

Renjun gasps when you take it off the rack, "This one?" You ask him coolly. He nods. "Let's get something else." You say and lead him to the back of the store. The forbidden adult area is laden with its usual toys, costumes, cuffs, and everything else that made you giggle as a teen. He trails close behind you. "Do you see anything you like?" You ask him. He licks his lips and swallows thickly, "Um... no judgment?" He asks softly. You shake your head, "No, babe. No judgment." You assure him. He steps closer to the displays and reaches for a plug, "This, please." He says and hands it to you. It's silver and blue. "It's pretty." You say to him, "Anything else?" You ask as you gesture to the vibrators and dildos. "I have my favorites at home already. Do you wanna come home and see?" He says with a hint of a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his pretty mouth. "Oh hell yeah." You laugh. You take his hand and head to check out. You know you'll be spending the night with him again and you hope that he's ready to open up about what you already suspect to be true.

♡♡♡♡

Part 2 is already in my drafts but I gotta finish my requests and part 2 of Sober.

Also please gimme some love because writing dom!reader is so fkn hard I was sweating

[h3k3t]

🍱spicy sushi confession anon. I hope you've been getting my (granted it's only been two) asks! If ever you want me to ceases and desist the confessions I most certainly will. This turned into a freaking mini fanfic so I guess I should just say that it's a) spicy and b) underlying with a plot involving a mate AU that I really just made up along the way 🥴

The way Jack would be so needy and ultimately submissive really kills me. He'd watch with wide eyes as you kiss the bulge of his dress pants, nuzzle him with your nose and continually praise him. Kissing his pelvis as you draw his pants down and he hisses to himself. "Keep going?" You whispered. Your own voice is wrought with desire and it amazes Jack that you actually want him. Him, an old man, a man who had seen war, who has unwittingly slaughtered entire villages. And you, so young and spry, so beautiful with loving glints blossoming in your eyes. So soft...especially your lips. Your lips are soft as they press against his cock, and he can't help but stifle a moan with his palm as he looks down at you. Your mouth parts; pink tongue crawls out. It rests at the underside of his huge cock and it's so warm and wet. His tip is already dripping out smooth precum. You immediately lap it up, the way he had once seen you lap at a popsicle. Your soft lips close around his tip and he can no longer keep it in. His large hand, unclean with the blood of innocent and guilty alike, cradle the back of your head. He's stammering and moaning out, his deep voice babbling in a way you'd never heard. It's like he had never been...worshipped before. It's a damn shame that he hasn't. His cock is thick and swollen in a way that you yearn to feel it inside. His body is beautiful and rough. Scars on his abdomen, flecks of red and brown moles on his hips and pelvis. His thighs muscular as they clench. And, God help you, you feel your stomach churn with heat as his hips buckle up. "Stop," he pleads. "I don't want to-"

"I want you to," you suddenly say, your tone harsh and clear. You envelop him in your mouth again, taking him deeper and revelling in the delicious sounds he makes. He sounds like he's crying, and you look up to see that he very well could be. One hand is still around the crown of your head, and the other has now intertwined with yours. Your knees ache, your jaw is tight, but you don't care one bit. Oh and how good it feels to just hear Jack babble and moan about how good you make him feel. His hips buck against you and you make a sound of approval, trying to signal to him that you enjoy how needy he is. You love to see him so unwound. He warns you that he's going to cum and when you let him he feels like he would combust. He expected it to stop. But it didn't. "Mi corazón es tuyo," he gasped as he flexed his fingers in your hair. "Tómalo! Tómalo! Ah, fuck! Tómalo!"

Ah, that was it, you thought as his thighs trembled. His hand crushed yours with a fierce grip that reminded you of the beast that lurked within. But you couldn't lie and say you wanted it to stop. You loved how shaky he became when you forced a second orgasm. You loved how sensitive he was at any touch, how overstimulated. You nuzzled your nose against his tip and he swore, twitching away as he begged for a moment of peace. It was a bit funny, but you obliged, sitting back on your knees and watching him with intense infatuation as he caught his breath. He still gripped your hand in his.

Finally his pretty, green eyes caught yours and they lit up with true happiness. He grinned sheepishly. "Don't look at me like that," he said, bashful.

You pushed up and crawled into his lap. "Why not?"

"You just shouldn't!" Jack insisted.

"Why not, papí?" You asked in an overtly teasing manner.

Jack glared, but he couldn't hold it for too long without laughing. You surrendered. "Alright, alright, I won't push it."

You laid against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow down as he relaxed. His arms were around you. You felt so, undeniably, incandescently happy.

"Is it always this way?" You finally asked.

"What do you mean?" Jack replied as he twirled some of your hair in his fingers.

"For...mates."

Jack made a sound of understanding. Your face burned as you realized you'd finally broached the topic neither of you had dared to approach. The fact that you and Jack were mates hadn't yet been properly discussed. The learned fact had somehow been slipped into the back burner, getting away from you both in all the chaos.

"I don't know, amore," Jack answered honestly. " I don't think all mated couples have the luxury of liking their partner. Sometimes the moon's fate has different plans. Maybe She thought they'd have strong offspring, or they'd make a good duo in battle. Luckily for me, She paired me with the most beautiful, loving soul I could have asked for. Lucky that she wanted me to love."

You kissed the corner of his gentle mouth. "Lucky for us," you corrected.

Jack laughed; it was a musical sound. "Yes, amore. Lucky for us."

I hope in the future you will delight me with more such spicy scenarios, 🍱Anon. You really have talent, bestie. You also have a great talent for making me have real heart attacks from too many feels, now I'm calling 911.

[tinfairies]

Aemond with a bubbly, beach blonde, suntanned, coconut girl who spends 99% of her time at the beach. Most of her wardrobe is pink, always has her nails done, and a scented lipgloss within her grasp.

She’ll be out surfing on the waves and Aemond is sitting in the sand, with sunglasses, a black hoodie with a dragon on it (yes, the hood IS up), sunscreen and hiding underneath the best sunshade he could get his hands on. He looks like a twilight vampire next to her.

She babbles on for days eating her vegetarian sushi while he listens intently, not talking only grunting, while stabbing at his rare steak.

Aegon hates it. He’s brother gets a babe that walks around in bikini’s, platforms and daisy dukes every goddamn day of the year while his brother wears turtlenecks, black jeans and combat boots. It just doesn’t fit!!!

(Until he gets his Amazonian-esque Stark gym babe who wears muscle tanks sports bras and ass hugging leggings)

She’s not the smartest, she gets C minuses AT BEST while Aemond gets straight A’s but goddamn does she know how to handle the D’s…I’m sorry, I had too, I couldn’t not….

They’ve tried having sex on the beach. Aemond HATED it he was finding sand EVERYWHERE for DAYS! It felt great and was goddamn incredible but not worth the sand….

Helena embracing her lesbianism with a Martell who isn’t afraid of her bugs and wants to show her, her snake collection.

YES YES

Omg I want to show Helaena my leopard geckos!

[multifandomrandomgirl]

The Ropes That Bind Us - Peter Tork x Female!Reader PART ONE

Thought I'd drop a Peter fanfic as he is my favourite and it's my birthday, so I have to celebrate by Peter Torking!

Masterlist

Cold.

Dark.

Peter gasped for air as he struggled against the ropes that bound him to the chair. He had no idea how he’d got himself into this situation yet again. “I’m just going to buy more bread.” He had told Michael as he opened the front door three hours earlier. Knowing his bandmates, they wouldn’t notice his absence for another few hours.

“Shit.” Peter groaned, his chair nearly tipping over as he continued to fight the rope. Suddenly, out of the darkness, he heard a feminine voice.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, if he sees the ropes loosen, he’ll tighten them so much that it’ll really hurt.”

Peter had expected to be alone in the dark room, so he jumped slightly at the sound of another voice.

“Who are you? How’d you know that?” Peter babbled. He was curious, he wanted to know everything; where he was, why he wasn’t alone et cetera.

“I’m Y/N. I know this because I’ve been trapped here a while, I have no clue how long. Do you know the date? But each time I struggle, he, whoever he is, tightens the ropes. He punishes me.” Y/N’s voice breaks slightly.

“Crap, I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m Peter. It’s the sixteenth of July nineteen-sixty-seven if that’s of any use.” Peter relaxes into his ropes, it brings him some comfort to know that he isn’t alone, but it also makes him sad, Y/N’s been alone for fuck knows how long.

“Fuck, nineteen-sixty-seven? I was taken in nineteen-sixty-four. Shit, I hadn’t realised it had been that long, it does feel like an eternity but I thought that was all down to the being alone in a dark room.” Y/N’s voice cracked more than it had done before.

Three years she’d been stuck here and no one had found her. He wondered if anyone had looked for her at all. Peter shook his hair, it made him fear that perhaps Mike, Micky, and Davy may never find him.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t know what to say, I’m angry that someone would do this to you, and that no one’s found you.”

“Hey, you found me! I know that isn’t a great thing as you’re now stuck in the same boat as me, but in a selfish way, I’m kinda glad that I have someone to talk to. It’s gotten boring talking to the walls, very one-sided.”

“It isn’t selfish that you’re happy you aren’t alone anymore. It’s not great that either of us are here, but you being here is helping me, I’m not as sacred now I know someone else is here.” He smiles in the direction of Y/N’s voice, before he remembered that she couldn’t see him, and he grimaced.

“So, Peter, tell me about yourself.” Y/N said softly, hoping to get to know her new friend.

“Well, let’s see. I was born February the thirteenth, nineteen-forty-two, making me an Aquarius. Um, I have hazel eyes, and dirty blonde hair, which my friends joke about because I’m the dummy, I always end up in stupid situations or say the wrong things. Anyway, I really love sushi and music! I’m in a band, I play piano, and bass, as well as a handful of other instruments.” The musician rambled. “What about you?”

Y/N gave him an equally as long rant,s he told him her birthday, star sign, her hair colour. She told him her favourite food and how she too was the dummy of her friend group, and always ended up in sticky situations. 

“Tell me about your band. I’m interested.” Y/N glanced towards the voice of her new companion.

“We’re called The Monkees, with two ‘e’s instead of a ‘y’. There’s me, Michael - our guitarist. Micky - our drummer and vocalist, and Davy - our resident fuckboy, I mean singer and maraca player.” Peter quickly corrects himself, making Y/N giggle.

Peter began to sing Saturday’s Child in an attempt to ease himself as well as introduce Y/N to his band’s music.

“You’ve got such a nice voice! I really like it.” Peter was thankful that it was dark as he felt his face heat up at the comment made by the girl.

“Thank you! Hey! Are you much of a singer?” He asked, secretly, he had hoped she’d say no out of fear of him pulling a Davy and falling in love.

“I used to be in a band in school, I was the guitarist and one of the lead vocalists.” Y/N began to sing ‘Words of Love’ by Buddy Holly.

Peter’s fear was correct, he felt a warmth in his heart as he slowly realised he was falling for someone that he had met only a matter of hours ago.