#DING DING DING FOOD IS SERVED

[fanged-fanfics]

Heelllooo! It's me.. the big CYN 🗣

Can I request a shadow milk and dark cacao with a reader who has severe insomnia? The reader stays up nearly the whole night up until either 5-9 in the morning and sleeps until 6, and they're still super duper tired even after fully waking up? Ty! :3

☆ Late Nights on Earthbread — Shadow Milk and Dark Cacao (separate) x Insomniac!Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Shadow Milk doesn't understand the needs for things like sleep at first, at least while he was in his incorporeal form. Natural instincts like hunger and fatigue caught up with him when he was back to a physical form quickly, though, and once he got back into regularly nurturing his form, he noticed you weren't doing the same

ᯓᡣ𐭩 In the beginning, he just assumed you were as dedicated to his plan as Black Sapphire and Candy Apple, but he began noticing when you'd be more tired during the day or have health side effects due to the lack of rest

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Doing what he does best, Shadow Milk put together his best act— being a massive pest. In specific, if he deemed it was time to go to bed, he'd start whining and nagging and acting like he was just oh so sleepy and couldn't bear the thought of being left in a big cold bed all alone.. if only there was someone to share it with.. to give some warmth..

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It ends up working like a charm every time. Who can resist his big, sad, exaggerated eyes and insistent pout? Not you, evidently, as every time the azure jester requested a nap partner, you'd fallen into the habit of joining him. He'd snicker to himself while tucking you in and squeezing you in a full-body cuddle against him

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dark Cacao is admittedly prone to overworking himself, so the concept of burning through a late night isn't new to him. It became comforting to have you there by his side, and it seemed like a peaceful routine. That is until Dark Cacao began noticing how it was affecting you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 From that moment on, there became an unspoken rule between you two. When he felt it was time for bed, it was non-negotiable. He'd make sure you'd be in a place to comfortably stop your activities beforehand, though. He was never cruel in his enforcement, he simply instilled an unspoken curfew

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You could usually tell when the time for rest was coming up, as Dark Cacao picked up the habit of cleaning up his bed the way you like it a few minutes before you were due to retire for the night. Pillow organization, blanket spread, any and everything would be tended to so it'd be perfect when you'd need it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When curfew hits, the Cacao king simply tells you gently that it's time for bed. He guides you away from whatever you're working on, soothing your mind with gentle touches and soft pecks until you're curled up in bed. Then you usually have to convince him to do the same for himself, despite his insistence that he can keep working. You always win out in the end, Dark Cacao holding you atop his chest as he falls asleep with you being your reward

[yi3248]

its him, the one and only roach

[dudeshusband]

my s/i losing like $100 because they suck at poker but really wanted to play with ricco and his poker guys

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Tastes Like Sugar (Agnes x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Detective Agnes O'Connor is your favorite customer and you might be her favorite citizen.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Swearing

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @toomanylesbiancouples @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme

@alexusonfire, this one's for you!

The bell above your door rang out in the quiet morning. The sun was just peeking over the treeline, the air chilled outside. You perked up, pasting a smile on your face, ready to face the day. The first customer.

Depending on which Westview native was coming through the door would dictate how the rest of your day went.

“Gimme one of the chocolate ones.”

Agnes O’Connor. Your day was going to be a good one.

“Sure thing, detective,” you said, flashing her a genuine smile.

The acerbic detective was your favourite customer. You made no secret of it. Your smiles were hers as were your compliments. Her scowl, comforting in its familiarity, was a mainstay of your interaction. But every now and then you saw her lips quirk up and you’d glow with pride

“Busy day?” you asked, plucking one of the chocolate donuts from the display case.

“No more than usual,” she replied.

Her arms crossed over her chest and she was watching you with an intensity that made your heart beat quicken.

“It must get boring living in such a quiet town,” you said, “never thought about moving to the big city?”

“Plenty of crime here,” she replied.

You tucked the donut into a paper bag, ringing her up. Those assessing blue eyes swept over you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you let her look, knowing all she’d see was someone dazzled by the big dog in town. No one was better than her. She had a reputation around town. Everyone knew the streets were so safe because of her.

“Not with you keeping us safe,” you said.

She pursed her lips but didn’t disagree. Her phone tapped against the card reader, the ding loud between you. You nudged the paper bag over to her.

“Have a good day, detective,” you said, looking at her from under lowered eyelashes.

She lingered for just a moment before she sniffed and turned away. The bell rang behind her as her back disappeared.

^

“Morning, detective.”

Her index finger tapped on the counter. You let your smile reach your eyes, the early mornings worth it when you got to see her. She perused the front case of baked goods, not even bothering to greet you with more than a raised eyebrow. You lent on the counter, grinning at her.

“It’s always nice seeing your smiling face in the morning,” you said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, looking up at you, less than impressed.

“Just that you brighten up the place,” you said.

She muttered something under her breath that you missed. You tilted your head, waiting for her to say something else. Blue eyes flicked up to you before down to the case again.

“Gimme a glazed,” she said.

“Sure thing, detective,” you said.

She crossed her arms over her chest, watching you pull one of the donuts free for her. The paper bag crinkled in your hand as you transferred the donut into it. Pushing it over the counter, you tucked your hair behind your ear. She pulled it over to herself with long fingered hands, making you bite down on your lower lip.

For just a moment, her eyes seemed to focus on your mouth. Then she was turning away.

“See you tomorrow morning, detective,” you called at her retreating back.

She raised a hand to you in a wave before the door shut behind her.

^

For the first time in ages, Agnes wasn’t the first customer you served that morning. A line had formed before the frowning face of your favourite customer entered the cafe. You kept twirling from the counter to the food cabinet to the drinks. You hadn’t worked that hard that early in a while but you kept your smile firmly in place.

“Are you always so bubbly in the morning?”

“Detective.” You brightened and she squinted at you, “I was worried I wasn’t going to see you this morning. Too busy sleeping in?”

“No time to sleep in. You know that,” she replied.

You perked up, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Her head cocked to the side, eyes sweeping over you like she was documenting every little thing you were doing. You let her, wondering what she was reading in you.

“Something sweet to start the morning off right?” you asked.

“What?” She blinked.

You nodded towards the display case. She froze before turning her eyes down to it.

“Gimme one of the powdered ones,” she said after a moment.

“Sugar for someone so sweet,” you said with a grin.

Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the paper bag from you. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip again as your heart beat double time. This time her gaze definitely dipped to your mouth. Heat coursed through your veins.

“See you tomorrow, detective,” you whispered, lowering your gaze.

“I like the blue. It’s pretty,” she said.

You glanced down at your blue dress, missing as she glanced over her shoulder to get one last look at you before disappearing into the morning mist.

^

“Detective, we have to stop meeting like this,” you said as she sauntered through the door.

“Not until I find a better donut place,” she said.

“You mean it’s not my sparkling personality that keeps you coming back?” you asked, pouting at her, “I’m hurt.”

“Deal with it,” she said but you could see the way her lips ticked up into a small smile.

“You keep treating me so badly and I’ll stop being so nice,” you said.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You let your eyes wander over her body, thinking about all the ways you could try being not so nice. All the ways you could be naughty with her. Your cheeks heated and you were the first to look away. Her chuckle was low, a raspy vibration in her chest. You shivered, eyes darting up to her again.

“What can I get you, detective?” you asked.

“Chocolate sprinkle,” she said without even looking, “it’s going to be a long day.”

“Nothing the great Detective O’Connor can’t handle, I’m sure,” you said.

You smiled softly, eyes meeting hers over the top of the counter. A scowl settled over her face but you didn’t let it deter you. You never did. You knew you were going to break through that tough exterior one day.

“There you go,” you said, pushing it over the counter.

“Thanks,” she said.

Her hand closed over it, fingers covering yours. Lingering, your gaze caught on hers, the moment stretching out. You wanted to live in it, for the moment never to be broken. It was the kind of moment you’d be thinking about long after she was gone.

She pulled her hand back, pursing her lips. You didn’t say anything, simply nodding to her as she stepped away from the counter. She lingered for another moment before she spun on her heels and stalked out of the cafe. The sigh that passed over your lips was dreamy.

“Can I get an oat milk latte?”

You blinked, turning your attention to the next customer.

“Sure thing!”

^

You were humming to yourself as you went through your opening ritual, getting the cafe ready for the morning rush. You weren’t paying as much attention as you should have, not hearing the bell above the door when it was shoved open.

“You weren’t here yesterday.”

“Shit.” You jumped, pressing your hand to your racing heart, “Agnes. We’re not open yet.”

“I don’t care,” she said, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at you.

“Okay, well, you’re going to have to wait for me to finish up before I can get you a donut,” you said.

“You weren’t here yesterday,” she repeated, hoisting one of the chairs off the table closest to you.

“Did you miss me, detective?” You flashed her an impish grin.

“That boy they had working,” she ground out through gritted teeth, “wouldn’t shut up.”

“I never shut up,” you laughed.

She grumbled something under her breath, slamming down another chair. You shook your head, sliding closer to her.

“Just admit it. You missed me,” you said, hip bumping against hers.

Her arm caught you around your waist, hand pressed to your hip. Though the fabric of your dress, her palm was burning. Your breath caught, turning your face towards her. She was close enough for you to feel her breath ghost over your skin, those blue eyes burning as they looked down at you.

“Where were you?” she asked, voice lowering into something that felt dangerous.

“It was my day off,” you replied, breathless as you stared into her eyes, “I was probably still in bed when you were here.”

Her gaze darkened and you shivered. She squeezed your hip before she released you.

“Don’t do that again,” she told you.

“What? Take a day off?” you laughed, “I think I’m allowed to do that.”

“Don’t,” she said.

“You really can’t get on without me, huh?”

Her fingers reached up, curling around the ends of your hair, giving it a tug. Your lips parted and her eyes flicked down to them. Your tongue ran along your lower lip, watching her gaze follow it.

“Chocolate donut, detective?” you asked.

Her hand fell to her side and you stepped away from her, winking at her over your shoulder. The paper bag crumpled in her hand when you passed it to her, knuckles grazing against one another.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, detective,” you whispered.

Her hand slid over your hip again, leaving you with fire running through your veins.

^_

“Fancy running into you here.”

Agnes shoved her aviators further up her nose, staring out at the crowd. Leaning against the wall in the shade, she stared out at the Westview crowd. You nudged her shoulder, standing beside her in an attempt to get out of the sun.

“I brought you something,” you said when you didn’t get a response.

“Is it a donut?” she asked, sounding less than impressed.

“Better,” you said, “lemonade.”

You held out one of the cool cups of lemonade you’d bought as you’d walked through the fair. You’d caught sight of her quickly, a brooding shadow on the outskirts of the town’s fun. There was something about her that always drew your eye, even in a crowd.

“You brought me lemonade?” she asked, still not looking towards you.

“Breakfast of champs,” you chirped.

“It’s not breakfast time,” she replied.

“Well, you didn’t come in for a donut so I know you haven’t had any today,” you said.

She sighed but took the cup from you. You grinned, watching her down the drink and crush the cup in her fist. It shouldn’t have made you feel hot, but the cool drink was a relief as you chugged it down. Her chuckle was filthy in your ear.

“So you’re keeping tabs on me now?” she asked.

“It’s not my fault you’ve become such an integral part of my day,” you said, “if I’m not allowed to take a day off then neither are you.”

“I’d hardly call this a day off,” she said.

“You don’t come by the cafe, it’s a day off from me,” you said, pouting at her.

“Am I not allowed a day off from you?” she asked.

“Nope.” You popped the p obnoxiously.

She humphed but didn’t disagree. When she shifted, her shoulder came to rest against yours, warmth seeping into your skin. You settled closer to her, watching the crowd.

“Sometimes I wonder what I’m still doing in a town like this,” you said, “and then the fair comes to town and I wonder how I could ever leave.”

“You thinking about leaving?” she asked, voice gruff.

You looked over, catching her watching you. Meeting her gaze you smiled.

“Not anymore,” you said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“I found something worth staying for.”

She didn’t say anything, but her shoulders seemed to relax. You pressed your shoulder more insistently against hers, turning back to watch the crowd. Her fingers brushed against the back of your hand.

Your head came to rest on her shoulder.

^

“Long time no see,” you chirped when Agnes came through the door.

Her smile was surprisingly free of irony and sarcasm. You brightened, our own smile taking over your face in response to hers. She lent on the counter, one elbow, looking at you from under hooded eyes.

“Best view in the town, right here,” she said.

“Flatterer.” But your cheeks heated.

“Gimme one of the chocolate sprinkles,” she said, “I want something sweet in my mouth.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out. She chuckled, reaching out to curl her finger around the bottom of your hair. She tugged until you shivered.

“Have I finally managed to shut you up?” she asked.

“No,” you squeaked.

“You sure?” she asked.

“Just the donut?” you asked in return.

“What else you got on offer?” she asked.

“Something sweeter.”

She tugged on the ends of your hair again before letting you go. Her smirk had your cheeks heating again but you wiggled your eyebrows. Her chuckle was warm and delicious, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Perhaps when my shift is done,” she said, “I’m sure you have plenty of suggestions of things I could taste.”

“Are you flirting with me, detective?” you asked, leaning over the counter, not able to stop yourself.

“That’s quite a serious charge,” she said.

“Enjoy your donut,” you said, sliding it across to her, “I hope it’s sweet enough for you.”

“I’m sure it will tide me over until I can find something sweeter to occupy my time with.”

She left you behind the counter breathless and throbbing with need and a full day’s work ahead of you. You cursed her very existence. And hoped she’d be back soon.

^

The door opened seconds after you’d flipped the sign. You laughed, stepping back, giving Agnes the room she needed to barrel into the cafe. Her hand caught yours, dragging you after her. You went easily, just enjoying the feeling of her palm against yours.

“Someone’s had a good day,” you said.

“Shut up,” she growled.

“Or not,” you muttered.

“Is anyone else here?” she asked.

“I’m the last one,” you replied.

“Good.”

She pushed open the door into the store room, not listening to your arguments about how she shouldn’t be back there, that if anyone found her you’d be in so much trouble. Your back was shoved into a shelf. The door closed with a click.

“Can I help you with something, detective?” you asked, smirking when she lent back against the door.

“I believe I was offered something sweeter than a donut,” she said, “I’ve come to collect.”

“You’re going to have to get a little closer. Might be hard to reach from all the way over there.”

Her hand landed on the shelf beside your head, leaning into your personal space. You tilted your chin up, lips parting. Blue eyes dragging down to them, darkening as they focused on your mouth. You waited, the moment stretching.

“Well?” you asked when you thought she was never going to move.

Her lips pressed to yours, cutting off any other words you might have wanted to say. When you’d imagined kissing her, in those late night fantasies and sunlit daydreams, it had never felt like this. You’d imagined her in all kinds of scenarios, soft and romantic, desperate and needy, hot and heavy, but this was so different.

The self possession she carried through daily life was really coming through. It was commanding, pressing you back against the shelves, digging into your spine. Your hands landed on her shoulders, fingers digging in, dragging her closer, opening under her. She growled, low in her throat, her hand grasping your hip as she slotted her leg between yours. Your hand curled around the back of her neck, holding her in place as you whimpered into her mouth. She nipped at your lower lip before her tongue soothed over it.

“Agnes,” you groaned, muffled against her mouth.

“Hush, hon,” she said, “I’m enjoying my sweet treat.”

You surrendered to her, letting her taste as deeply as she wanted. You clutched at her, wanting more of her. You’d been waiting so long for her you were hardly going to stop her now. Even if the shelving was digging into your back and you should be locking up the cafe and cleaning up. She surrounded you, giving you no chance to escape, as if you’d wanted that, crowding you more insistently against the shelf.

“Taste so fucking good,” she growled.

You arched against her, the whine coming from the back of your throat lost as she kissed you again. Dragging her closer, you pressed against her, feeling every one of her curves against yours. The noise she made was addictive, better than any sugar could be. Your hand slid up under the soft flannel shirt she had on, seeking out the warm skin you knew would be under there. Your nails scraped over her skin, the noise she made gratifying when she shoved you against the shelving harder. Her leg, still between yours, pressed against you until the throbbing heat felt like it would overwhelm you.

You whimpered when she pulled away. Her thumb ran along your lower lip, eyes dark and smouldering, but her lips were pulled up in a smirk. Your tongue flicked over the pad of her thumb. Her low chuckle was throaty, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You certainly know how to deliver on your promises,” she said.

“What do you mean?” you asked, breathless and desperate to get back to the kissing portion of the afternoon.

“I’ve never had anything as sweet as you,” she replied.

You could have melted right there.

“Do you want to get dinner?” you asked.

“Yes, hon. I do.”

You slid your arms around her neck, drawing her back to you. Your lips ghosted over hers, giggling when she tried to strain forward, wanting to press hers to yours.

“I need to lock up,” you whispered, keeping her just far enough that she couldn’t kiss you again.

“Hurry,” she groused, stepping back from you.

You hurried.

[mamasfavourite]

Hi your axel fic was really good! I was wondering if you could write a fic about kwon and a Miyagi-Do reader.Enemies to lovers lots of tension.

thank you so much and thank you aswell for requesting, i had sm fun with writing this!! i hope you enjoy :)

locker room

pairing: kwon jae-sung x reader

summary: kwon and y/n hated eachother, because of a little incident on the first day.. and because of the karate thing. but kwon can’t help but flirt around a little bit.

warnings: stupid rivalry, enemies to lovers!, kissing, making out, kwon is sassy, flirting, swearing,

you were so excited to be on the miyagi-do team for the sekai takai! you weren’t captain, but you didn’t mind at all because you had your best friend, sam, there with you and you knew your capabilities under pressure.

it was practically your natural state at this point :)

you and sam decided to share a room in barcelona. which was probably for the better, considering neither of you wanted to share with the boys, except for maybe sam and miguel.

after an insanely long flight, you arrived at the hotel and immediately dropped your backpack to your bed and felt each tired muscle in your back start to decompress.

you went to shower, wanting to rinse off the dirt from travelling. after washing your hair and body, you stepped out and dried yourself off. you brushed through your knotted, wet hair and put on some baggy shorts and an off-shoulder tshirt.

it was around 5:30pm, which meant it was around 8am back home, most of your team wouldn’t even be awake yet. you went back into the main area of the room and saw sam laying on her bed, scrolling on her phone.

“i’m gonna go down to the buffet and see if i can grab something to eat, do you want anything?” you asked her and she wearily looked up from her phone and replied with a “no, thanks!”

you smiled and acknowledged her response before you put on some sneakers and grabbed your phone and room key from on top the dresser, and headed out. you made your way to the elevator and managed to find the open buffet nearby the reception.

the buffet was relatively empty, which wasn’t surprising due to the lack of people who typically had an appetite at 5:30pm. there was one or two people in the corner, eating something you couldn’t quite make out, and someone else on the right hand side of the room.

you grabbed two pieces of a brown bread at the back of the serving tray. once you did, you grabbed a selection of butter, avocado and some smoked salmon, putting it beside the bread on your plate. yum!

you grabbed some tissues, and a knife and fork and began to walk back towards the elevator. the elevator was empty, so your ride was quite peaceful. you held the plate with both hands, the knife and fork, and napkin were balanced in your right hand.

you were so focused on holding onto your plate and keeping it steady, that as soon as you heard the elevator doors open with a ding!, you stepped out and immediately collided with a tall figure infront of you.

you watched in horror as the slimier foods slid down the person’s body and your plate landed on the carpet with a soft thump. you tilted your head upwards to look at their reaction before you frantically apologised.

of course, he was fucking gorgeous. the first enemy you make for yourself in barcelona was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. he glared down at you which such anger. “what the fuck?” he said, with a thick, korean accent.

damn even his voice was hot!

as you came back up again you began to apologise. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to spill that on you, i can help you clean it or-“ you paused your rambling as you watched the guy continue to glare at you angrily through your speech.

his gaze was filled with nothing but fury. “don’t let it fucking happen again.” he bumped your shoulder as he walked past you, to the elevator. you knelt back down to the floor to clean up as much as you could, before you just went back to your room.

you saw him again the next day. the sekai takai had organised a field trip to the barcelona aquarium. there was a lot of different people there, but only one really stood out to you, and that was kwon.

well, clearly he stood out, i mean he was yelling at everyone, challenging all of the dojo captains to a kicking contest, and of course, robby couldn’t just step aside for once.

you were peacefully drinking your water, as the boys spoke, and it was safe to say you had zoned out completely. that was until you heard what they were betting. you coughed and spluttered, putting your water bottle into sam’s hands and struggling to speak for a second.

“sorry what?” you asked, with a mix of confusion and embarrassment. kwon’s head turns to you with his signature smirk, one you only noticed now, as before he had only thrown scowls your way.

“i said..” he paused and took one step closer to you. “if he wins, he gets my room, if i win, i get yours.” he delivered with a wink. you felt your cheeks heat up, confused as to why this was because you were enraged.

“what, how is that fair, i’m not even playing?” you answered, angry that your room was being gambled away without your consent. your weight shifted from one foot to the other.

“oh relax, sweetheart, i wouldn’t kick you out or anything.” he flirted with you once more before he turned his body back to robby and held out his hand

“deal.” robby answered, and they shook on it. you gasped, and pushed robby in the chest. but at the same time, you were confused because why would this hot guy from the elevator, who DESPISES you, want the key to your room?

despite his skills, robby somehow lost the competition and you find yourself face to face with kwon. “hand over the room key, princess.” you wanted nothing more than to wipe the stupid smirk off his face and tell him to leave you alone. your response was only a little bit nicer than that. “no.” you replied, your gaze shifting around the room, as you felt scared to look him in the eyes.

“if you’re gonna try to reject me, at least look in my eyes when you do it.” he spoke, his voice low and commanding. something about it made you wanna listen, and so you did.

you stared into his dark eyes and repeated yourself. “i don’t want to give you my room key.” he chuckled to himself, under his breath. you maintained eye contact, not wanting to pull away.

he rolled his eyes at your attitude. “okay, well i’m gonna talk to your captain over there, and sort this out because a deal is a deal.” he replied and started walking over to robby.

they argued back and forth for a while but in the end, you didn’t have to sleep in a room with kwon. much to his dismay, robby gave up him and miguel’s room and had to share with the other boys.

your next interaction happened on the day of the final. cobra kai had narrowly escaped elimination and were going to fight in the last round. the matches were 30 minutes from starting and you had only then realised that you wouldn’t have another opportunity to go back inside the locker rooms and you left your water bottle there.

you ran over to the shared locker rooms, one you coincidentally shared with cobra kai, as soon as you arrived, you found yourself stopped in the doorway watching as the very guy you had secretly hoped to see was there, packing up some of his gear.

the large metal door was propped open by a small wooden doorstop, a detail that you had missed in the midst of your staring. you took a step forward and knocked over the doorstop. you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.

kwon turned around at this and let out a small laugh at your misfortune, but he shut up as soon as he realised the door was shut and could not be opened from the inside.

“do you have any idea what you just did.” he practically growled at you. he was absolutely enraged, but he didn’t seem as angry as he had been during the elevator incident. you apologised but he still seemed quite angry.

you sat down against the wall, and he sat on a bench across from you. there was quite a loud silence between you, except for the quiet whirring of the fan above you. you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of kwon. he bothered you, and confused you and made you feel things and ugh.

you hated him, but most of all you hated his karate. wait.. maybe you could start a conversation about that! “what got you into cobra kai?” you asked him.

you looked up at him and he met your gaze. he swallowed, and left the silence there for a moment as he thought of what to say.

“well, i was in a dojang before, do you know what that is?” he replied and you nodded along, your interest piqued.

“so my kwanjang was incredibly conservative. she knew one style of teaching and disciplined anyone who didn’t feel comfortable with it. it was rough, it was such a fucked up environment, but then sensei kreese came and she never relaxed but he helped me seize my power, and i haven’t really looked back since then.”

he spoke with conviction and you were surprised by his sincerity. you thought for a moment, never taking your eyes off his and replied. “i get that.”

a beat passed. “but cobra kai is angry, it’s viscous, and there’s no ethics to it. no mercy is not how the real world works.”

he swallowed and nodded, accepting the weight of your words, and you were impressed that he was so considerate of you. he matched your behaviour, taking his time to think of what to say before he replied.

“well, look. at the end of the day, i have to look out for myself. i know who i am and no dojo can change it.”

you accepted his answer, truth be told, you fully agreed. and your impression of him completely shifted. you shivered slightly, the room had turned quite cold. kwon noticed and you watched as he removed the cobra kai hoodie he wore over his gi.

he offered it to you which you gladly accepted, and flushed a little. he scooted across the floor to hand it over to you.

he was really close and he brushed his fingers over your wrist as he handed it to you. you put it on, and he felt something inside him flutter as he saw you in his clothes.

you glanced at him and he was so close you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. you couldn’t feel your fingers or the emptiness of the room because all you paid attention to was his gaze, that was still never left you.

his expression turned vulnerable as he put a hand to your cheek. “please don’t hit me for this…” he whispered, as he leaned in close to you and kissed you.

his lips were soft and you couldn’t help but wrap your fingers around his collar to pull him closer to you. you kissed him with passion and at some point, you pulled back, out of breath.

he seemed even more vulnerable for a moment, thinking he was just rejected. “do you want me to stop?” he asked you, his voice laced with a worry that you found difficult to detect.

you panted for a second, your hands never leaving his collar and your eyes never leaving his. “just the opposite, please.” you mumbled breathily against his lips as you pulled him back in, reconnecting your lips.

[seat-safety-switch]

Trust me when I tell you that I love my local Mexican restaurant, with their molcajetes full of sizzling beef and their extremely inexpensive tacos. There's just one downside: their parking lot kind of sucks. It's one of those narrow 1960s jobs, where you have an exit only on one side, and it's constantly full of food-delivery types blocking the lane so you have to do weird ninety-point turns just to park.

Now, let's get one thing straight: I do not at all care if I get my doors "dinged." A couple years ago, a then-new Acura MDX parked a little close to me, and their kids banged their door into my door. This was enough contact for the rust demon to jump from my Valiant onto their car, and by the time they had returned from the store, their vehicle and its delicious Nipponese steel had been wholly consumed. Only the tires remained. No, I just don't like the inconvenience of having to strongarm-steer my wheezing piece of garbage into this tight lot. Things are bad enough that I've actually thought twice about going to get Mexican food. I know. I can barely believe it myself.

My parents didn't raise me to be someone who gives up easily. In fact, if you ask Child Protective Services, they didn't raise me at all. Television brought me up to idolize heroes like reruns of Clutch Cargo and whatever cool robot toy they wanted to sell that week. And if there's one thing those daring pioneers wouldn't accept, it's a slightly inconvenient parking lot.

What's the easiest way to fix a parking lot with only one exit? By adding another exit. Turns out the city construction workers nearby just keep their keys in the bulldozer, as long as your definition of "in the bulldozer" also includes the site supervisor's locked office inside a fireproof safe that doesn't stand up to the weight of a bulldozer rolling down the hill into it after having its parking brake released. I plowed a neat car-width divot through the nearby sidewalk – take that, walkable neighbourhood – and now the vibe of the entire parking lot had changed for the better.

Unfortunately, I had not counted on the increased traffic that this would bring. All of the city, it seems, was also putting off getting Mexican food. This slight inconvenience factor actually served as a pressure-control valve of sorts. With the floodgates wide open, the place was now crammed stem to stern with hungry rich folks and their conveniently-parked luxury cars 24 hours a day. Let this be a lesson to all of you: never try to make things better.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 8

Part 7

Shockingly, it turns out Danny knows how to cook. He's good at it, even, and when Tucker expresses his disbelief at the practiced way Danny moves in the kitchen Danny snorts.

“You know what the Fenton kitchen was like. When I got out of there and had access to food and kitchens that weren't biohazards, I learned eventually. I have a very distinct appreciation for good food nowadays, and I like being able to make it myself.”

He puts music on through a little Bluetooth speaker on the counter, invites them to participate, and they cook.

It's fun. They dance, they drink, they sample ingredients as they put their pizzas together. There's a minor flour war that sets off rounds of giggling and shrieking - more importantly it makes Danny cackle in a way she used to love and hasn't gotten to hear since they were teens.

It's exactly the same, and she missed it. Pure impish delight and mischief.

For as many things that are the same, there are ones that have changed.

Danny has a grace to him now that he didn't used to, and he moves near silently. He sways easily and elegantly to the music without thinking about it as they talk and make mischief with each other.

The oven and the adjusted thermostat make it much more comfortable in the apartment after a while, but Danny doesn't shed the pullover sweater he wears at any point. He didn't even roll the sleeves up to cook.

Come to think of it, when they entered high school he started doing that too. He wore long sleeves even in the summer - Sam tries not to think about abusive households or self harm. She hopes it's not that, but…

She puts the thoughts aside as well as she can.

Tucker had mentioned it before to her, but with all the grinning and laughing tonight Sam can see that he was right and Danny's teeth are sharper than she remembers. All four canine teeth are almost startlingly pointy.

She doesn't mention it. What she does mention is the apartment.

“This is a really nice place, Danny. You got a secret sugar daddy you haven't told us about?”

Tucker gapes at her and smacks her arm. Danny bluescreens for a moment before he snorts an ugly laugh and descends into near hysterics.

“Oh my God! Ancients, no! No, no sugar daddy. Just a well paying engineering gig lately, and some money I saved up before I left Amity. Holy shit, Sam.”

She shrugs, some tension she didn't know she was carrying leaving her shoulders. “Had to ask. Would have had a shovel talk to deliver.”

Danny starts laughing again, and Tucker groans and puts his head in his hands.

“I cannot believe you actually just asked him that,” Tucker moans.

“I can,” Danny responds with a chipper grin, Tucker's answering snort overlaid by the ding of the oven timer.

Danny knocks back the rest of his drink and waves in the vague direction of the living room area.

“I'll take this out and cut it. Go sit and we can eat it around the coffee table in case we want to watch a movie or something?”

The sitting area is spacious and comfortable, couches black leather. There's a heavy, fluffy white throw over the back of one that looks soft as all get out, but she and Tuck quickly decide to settle on the floor.

The coffee table is low enough that it's more convenient for reaching food and drinks set on it.

Tucker whistles appreciatively at the TV, so it must be a cutting edge new model. Fucking nerd.

Danny trots over not long after with two serving boards balanced precariously on one arm, his refilled sangria in one hand, the pitcher of sangria in the other and another beer held against his side by an awkward elbow.

Tucker and Sam both shoot to their feet to try and mitigate a disaster, but miraculously it all makes it to the table unharmed.

“It's almost like you guys don't trust me,” Danny pouts, his grin ruining it. “Careful, it's hot.”

“You are a perpetual accident waiting to happen,” Sam tells him scathingly, and he snorts with a peculiar look on his face.

“You don't know the half of it.”

As they all reach for slices of pizza, Danny takes them by surprise by taking a piece of Sam's, not Tucker's.

Tucker gapes at him. “Dude. Tell me you haven't betrayed me like that.”

Danny snorts, shoulders shaking with quiet chuckles. “Nah, I still eat meat. It's just sometimes I have spells where it kind of bothers me and I feel a little sick about it? I'm in one of those lately, but usually I'm still a huge burger and steak guy. Don't worry.”

“Huh. That's weird.”

Danny shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza despite his own warnings and cringing when it burns his mouth.

“Been like that since high school, actually. Used to be worse then,” he mumbles through his attempts to cool a mouthful of molten cheese.

Sam doesn't remember him ever having issues with it in middle school. She wonders what happened to change his outlook, but puts it aside. They're here to hang out and catch up. Have a good time. Not interrogate Danny.

They end up spending hours watching trashy TV and heckling the screen, making small talk and letting each other in on bits of their lives all the while. Everyone's well on their way to tipsy by the time they're done eating, though Danny a little more than Sam and Tuck.

He's loose-limbed and happy, sprawled across both of them in the haphazard pile they've ended up in. He seems incredibly content, and it does Sam's heart good to see him so relaxed.

She and Tucker are sitting with their backs against the couch, Danny's legs slung across Tucker's lap and head in Sam's. It's probably why he notices her shiver a little - it's still a little chilly in the apartment.

Lazily, he points up at the back of the couch. “You can pull that down and cover us if you want. It's really warm.”

Sam offers him a quiet thanks and reaches up to do just that, though she's startled to find that though the top is fluffy, the underside of what she'd thought was a throw is velvety and smooth. Like hide.

It's a real fur - hopefully ethically sourced. Decorated too, there are ornaments threaded into the corners and dangling that she can't pin the origin of. They're very pretty, shells and claws and beads.

As she pulls it down, she flips the edge up to peek at the underside and is startled to find the skin a distinct, familiar ectoplasmic green.

“Um. Danny. What kind of fur is this…?”

“Yeti,” Danny replies offhandedly, sipping his drink before freezing like the question and his own answer just caught up to him. “Uh.”

Masterpost

[rangerbarbz]

Serving Up Romance

Author’s Note: Guys holy FUCK y’all have blown up my account!! Thank you all so much! I just can’t believe it like i'm going bonkers. Thank you so much for all your kind words and everything!! Also, I can’t believe I’ve never written for 80s Stan that’s crazy. (Also i know he’s never worn a denim jacket but i had a vision) 

“Serving up Romance”

You had been working as a waitress at Greasy’s Diner since you first moved to the strange town of Gravity Falls. While others might turn their nose up at waitressing, you loved it. You got the opportunity to know everyone in town, hear their gossip, and meet passer-bys driving through on road trips. You never knew who was going to walk through those doors or what incredible story they were going to tell you. One slow day at the diner, you were making a pot of coffee when you heard the bell above the door jingle. 

“Welcome to Greasy’s! Sit wherever you want, and I’ll be with you in just a sec,” you called out, pouring water into the coffee maker. You heard someone sit at the swivel stool behind you. 

“Take your time, doll. I’m in no rush,” a gruff voice responded. Hm. You didn’t recognize that tone. You turned around to see a man with dark brown hair in a white t-shirt and denim jacket, chewing on a toothpick. You noticed that there were patches of different fabrics and patterns all over the jacket. He hadn’t noticed you were looking at him because he was reading the small menu that was attached to the metal condiment holder. 

You smiled at him. “I like your jacket,” you complimented the handsome stranger. 

His attention quickly diverted to you. He chuckled. “Oh, this old thing?” He lifted up his arms to show off more of his patches. “Thanks. It’s been through the ringer let me tell ya. My ma taught me how to hand stitch so that any time I ripped it, I could fix it right up.” 

“That’s so sweet.” You reached out to point at one that was yellow with small, red flowers on his shoulder. “I like this one.” He looked over to see which one you were talking about and laughed. 

“That one I got from a motel pillow case! I accidentally caught my shoulder on fire.” You raised your eyebrows at him. His gaze became stern. “I learned to keep my distance from candles that day on.” 

You burst out laughing. “Now is this a true story?” you asked, propping your chin up on the palm of your hand. 

He grinned, moving his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “True as you are pretty, sweetheart.”

You giggled as a blush started to spread across your cheeks.“Alright, slick, what can I get you?” you responded, removing a notepad from the front pocket of your apron. He picked up the menu and gave it a quick once over.

“Uh… Give me the bacon and eggs. Scrambled, please, and one cup of coffee.” You finished scribbling his order and turned to put it in the window. 

“Can I get a name for this order?” you asked, winking at him from the coffee pot. You began to walk back over to him with a mug of black coffee. 

He gave you a wide smile. “Stan Pines, proprietor of The Mystery Shack,” he answered, hand outreached to you in greeting. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, waitress at Greasy’s Diner.” You shook his hand; it was firm, calloused, and felt very nice against your smooth skin. You turned over his hand to take a look at his scarred knuckles you noticed when he was holding the menu earlier. You dragged your thumb over the puckered, white lines.

“You got fighting hands, Stan.” You gazed at him through your lashes and grinned.“Sexy.” Now it was his turn to be flustered. His face grew red at your bold statement and laughed nervously. 

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I, uh, used to box, and I’ve gotten myself into a fair share of…scuffles.” You gave him a small smile. You were about to comment on that until the bell dinged from the window signaling that his food was done. 

“Bacon and eggs are up!” the chef barked. His loud voice startled you which made Stan laugh. 

“Sorry, let me get your food real quick.” You let go of his hand reluctantly and went to get his plate. What you didn’t see was him smirking to himself and touching the scars you grazed. He couldn’t remember the last time someone genuinely complimented him. 

Things started to pick up after you served Stan his food, so you didn’t get to continue your conversation. However, you made sure that when he paid for his meal, you got to talk to him one last time. 

“Will I be seeing you again, Stan?” you asked, getting his change from the cash register. “You should come next Tuesday! We serve waffle tacos then.” He laughed as you dropped the coins into his hand. 

“Well, I obviously can’t miss waffle tacos,” he responded with a smile. 

“I’ll see you then. It was nice to meet you, Stan! Don’t go catching yourself on fire on your way out!” you joked as he began walking towards the exit. 

“No promises, doll.” 

Over the next couple weeks, Stan continued to come into the diner and sit in the same swivel stool as he did when you first met him. He ordered a different thing on the menu each time making it his goal to try everything you had to offer. Your conversations were playful, flirty, but, most of all, interesting. He had quite the colorful past, but that didn’t scare you off. In fact, it made you more intrigued. 

One day, during a particularly busy shift, Stan walked in as always. “Hey, hon!” you greeted him while placing a plate of pancakes in front of a fussy toddler. “I’ll be right with ya!” You then noticed he had one of his hands behind his back, and he seemed a bit nervous. 

He didn’t sit down this time, but instead stood at the cash register. You walked over with a confused expression on your face. “Stan? Are you not eating today?” 

“Um, well, no. Not today, doll. I, uh, wanted to give you these.” His face was bright pink as he presented you with a large bouquet of wildflowers. You gasped. “I hope you like them. I found a whole bunch of them in a field near one of the backroads.”

“Oh, Stan,” you said softly. You took the bouquet from him and held it gently, admiring it. “It’s just beautiful, but why?” 

He started to rub the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. “There’s a drive-in movie happening tonight outside of town, and I wanted to take you with me,” he murmured shyly. “I think you’re real nice and fun to talk to and you got a knock-out smile.” He paused. “I would…like to get to know you outside the diner.” He finally made eye contact with you to see your reaction to everything he had said. 

You hadn’t stopped beaming at him since he handed you the flowers. “Stan, I would love to join you.” You reached out to cup his face with your free hand and gave him a peck on his cheek, his stubble tickling your lips. “What time should I be expecting you?” 

His eyes widened at you, his hand touching where you had kissed him. “Um, I. The, uh, movie starts at 7:45, so I’ll pick you up at 7:00,” he stammered, face as red as his Diablo. 

“Sounds good, sugar,” you replied, giving him a slip of paper that you had written your address on while he was talking. “I can’t wait to see what tricks a romantic like you has up his sleeves.” 

Stan let out a giggle before quickly covering it up by clearing his throat. “I guess you’ll have to find out tonight. I’ll see you then, sweetheart.” He gave your hand a squeeze before walking out the way he came in. 

“I’m going on a date with Mr. Mystery,” you whispered to yourself excitedly, burying your nose in the bouquet. 

PART 2 COMING SOON

[munariplans]

hi there! hope ur doing well. i love ur writing and have been wondering if you could do a story about reader disappearing on the teams day off. natasha who has a crush on reader notices and spys on reader to see if she’s meeting up with someone. instead it’s just reader being a good person and helping people along the way. making natasha fall in love with her even more.

days off | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above! thank you anon for your submission :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.3k words

a/n: requests and asks are always open

masterlist

“what are you doing?” natasha asked you shyly, her figure leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. she watched your hands skilfully kneading the dough on the counter over and over again, folded into a neat rectangle before being flattened and folded again in the next moment. behind you, pans were sizzling with the mouth-watering fragrance of scrambled eggs being cooked on the stove, and the oven let out a ding right as she stepped closer, telling you that it was preheated and ready. 

you let the dough rest, before putting a pre-prepared one in the oven and finally turning to her. “making breakfast,” you said, matter-of-factly, “for the team.”

“but it’s our off-day,” she replied, “and we have chefs in the compound.”

you smiled. “well, i just thought it would be nice to have something homemade, for once. my mother taught me how to cook, and i figured i’d spend the morning of the day-off in the kitchen, where i’ll be busy, and…the thoughts wouldn’t be so loud.”

natasha folded her arms over herself as you came closer. you noticed she had just come back from the gym. she probably hadn’t had anything to eat. 

carefully slicing the freshly baked bread into halves, you took a pair out of the perfect symmetry and placed them on the plate, before ladling a helping of the scrambled eggs, taking a few pieces of bacon out of the other pan, and placing a piece of hash brown right on top, before covering it with the other half of the bread. she watched you work, methodically, seamlessly. you looked like you had been doing it for years. 

then, you wrapped the sandwich quickly, and wrote her initials, N.R. with a smiley on top of the wrapper, before handing it to her. she was taken aback, and slightly red when she looked at the sandwich being offered to her. 

“i-it’s…” she stuttered, heart beating quickly when she realised she hadn’t exactly taken the sandwich, but hadn’t rejected your offer, either. 

“i want you to be my first taster. if it’s good, i’ll call the team down to have it as well. and if it’s bad…” you shrugged, half-laughing in anticipation as natasha finally took it, taking a small bite in front of you.

she took a moment to chew, face in contemplation, as if she were assessing a fine dining establishment before you. you began taking off your apron, deciding to let the chefs help you take over for the serving of the food later on, and started packing your things. 

just before you left, however, you noticed natasha fully into the entryway of the kitchen again, sandwich half-eaten.

“it’s okay,” she said nonchalantly, wiping a little bit off the ends of her lips. “it’s edible.”

you nodded, hiding a smile. “okay means good. i’ll tell the team to come down, then.”

natasha shrugged this time, as if saying if that’s what you want. when you left to shower, however, she smiled quietly to herself, and after making sure that no one was around, did a little happy dance from one of the most delicious sandwiches she had ever eaten. it was more than okay, it was the best breakfast she had ever had. she only wished she had the courage to tell you so. 

the redhead then tore the part of your handwriting of her initials off the wrapper, and kept it in her pocket for the rest of the day.

–

natasha never really knew what to do on her day-offs. it felt weird, to be sitting around doing nothing. she could do her remaining paperwork, but she knew if tony caught her, he would ban her from working on it at all for a week, leaving her even more bored and restless. 

she could sleep in, or explore new york for the day, but she wasn’t fully confident that her russian accent wouldn’t throw the average new yorker off yet. it also didn’t help that ever since her joining the avengers, there was always someone around the block who recognised who she was, who let their eyes rake over her figure for far too long, who made her feel uncomfortable when they got too close to ask for a picture. the others never seemed to mind, but she did. 

she noticed you always seemed to step in when it got too much; telling the fans that enough was enough, or simply holding her waist and slowly whisking her away from their prying eyes and grubby hands. she threw her head back onto her pillow at the thought of your hands on her waist again. natasha seriously needed to stop thinking about you, and her festering crush, whenever she had the opportunity. she needed to busy herself. 

but when you appeared in the commons right as she stepped out of her room to ask what you planned to do on your day-off, you were in your coat and scarf, prepared to head out. the rest of the team was still lazily lounging around the area, in a dazed state from the aftermath of your coma-inducing breakfast. 

“where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to pry too much, but still allowing herself to feed her own curiosity. 

she hated that you always replied with a tone that seemed like it was painfully obvious what you were doing. “out.”

“i know, but–”

“hey romanoff, are you still coming for the basketball game later? steve needs to book the seats.” tony called out to her before she could finish the sentence. he asked you too, but you reaffirmed with him that you weren’t coming. 

you shifted your scarf slightly, turning your attention back to her. “you ever been to a basketball game before? you’ll like it. the warriors are something else.”

natasha shook her head. you knew she had never been. but it didn’t mean that she wanted to go, not without you around. but she also didn’t have the courage to ask if she could tag along to wherever you were going. she knew her limits.

you didn’t seem to take the hint of her wanting to come along, despite her readily asking if you were going to meet someone, or if you were just going out alone, and if you had plans for after. you simply waved her goodbye, and told her to enjoy the game with the team. 

she sighed in irritation when you left, much to the amusement of clint behind her. “does she have a girlfriend or something? is that what she’s using her day-offs for?”

if clint wasn’t already hiding his grin, his friend’s newfound annoyance at your departure definitely made him let out a chuckle. “not that i know of.”

natasha didn’t have much to do that day, and it wasn’t like she was particularly looking forward to the game either, so she decided to spend her day-off the only way she knew how, using her spying skills and finding out what you were doing with yours.

–

in retrospect, natasha knew that you probably wouldn’t have liked being stalked, or followed around without her telling you why, or even simply her not taking the initiative to just ask, when you would have told her willingly of what you spent your breaks on.

she followed you into the university uptown, where natasha knew you guest-lectured in between longer breaks from missions. she just never expected you to come in on your days-off as well. 

you tapped your card in to the science department of the school, while natasha snuck past the security guard after causing a well-crafted distraction. when you entered the lockers to change into your lab coat, natasha waited patiently outside like a schoolgirl hiding from their crush. she supposed she wasn’t so different from one then.

it was only when you walked down the halls into a room guarded by a facial recognition scan, that natasha finally got to know that she a) wasn’t being so discreet after all, or b) you were a better agent than you let on to her. she should have known that you didn’t get promoted through the ranks so fast, so young, without reasons. 

the machine scanned your face, and as the door unlocked, you stood there for a moment, holding it wide open, before leaning your head to the side, one eye locked with hers. 

“do you want to come in and see as well, or do you plan on just waiting for me until i finish?”

if clint had seen the embarrassment on her face, along with the walk of shame she had to put on to enter the room with you, he would have certainly made her the laughing stock of the compound for the day. 

–

you drew up a chair for natasha as you went to your usual work station, a little early for your patient. in the few minutes that the two of you were alone, you hadn’t engaged her at all, simply directing her to sit and watch, while you prepared your materials and waited for your lab assistant. natasha was a little unnerved, and in awe at your professionalism, at the same time. 

you clicked your tongue in slight annoyance as your assistant came in five minutes late, reminding him, almost naggingly, that you only had one day-off per week, and it was precious time that he was wasting for the both of you. he apologised, and got to work helping you set up what looked like a robotic prosthetic leg, on your station. 

the lab was pristine; white-tiled walls and floors scrubbed clean with a very strong stench of antiseptic ensuring to even the most sceptic of minds that you knew what you were doing, and that the lab was clean; if the multiple diagrams of your inventions on the walls and the prototypes lining the shelves around her were not enough proof. you had never told her you had a lab.

a few minutes later, two knocks on the door were heard, and your assistant rushed over to open the door for a man no younger than seventy, hobbling in with great difficulty as he tried to offer help with his support, only to be rejected with a wave of his hand and an upbeat smile. he was an amputee. 

oh. this was what your days-off were for. 

“hello, mr. miller. you look cheerful today.” you got up from your seat to shake his hand. he took your support this time, leading himself to the plush armchair placed across your station. 

he laughed, rough and loud. “david, how many times have i come in here and asked you to call me?”

you smiled sheepishly. “sorry, david. let me help you with this.”

he winced as you kneeled down beside him, outstretching his prosthetic leg and inspecting it. your assistant took notes as you made observations of the various deficiencies and defects it suffered through david’s use of it for the past six months. natasha watched as your hands, the ones that would hold her at night when she cried, the ones that punched the faces of enemies trying to get to her, the very same hands that made her breakfast that morning, ran over the intricate details and bolts and nuts of the prosthetic leg she learned you made just for david, knowing what was wrong just by the feel and touch of them. she adored those hands so much. 

then, you helped him take off the prosthetic, instructing your assistant to hold his hand in encouragement as he winced at the removal. “there we go. wasn’t so bad this time, right? and the leg did hold up quite well, for six months.”

“well, you do maintenance to it every week,” david patted your back, “hard to fuck it up so bad when you fix it up every time i try to, right?”

you laughed, and natasha stopped herself from smiling. at your signal, the assistant brought forth the limb that you both had been working on to replace david’s old one for the past year, shiny and new. the man positively gleamed at the sight of it. 

“ready for a bit of a change, though, mr. miller?”

“now, that is a beauty,” he said as his eyes latched on, before they inevitably noticed natasha sat at the corner of where the limb was, and she swore he held recognition for her instantly. 

you followed his gaze, before his met yours, and the playful smirk he let out was all that you needed to know that he knew. “is that your…”

“...friend, natasha,” you replied him quickly, eyes slightly panicked and subtly, not so subtly, shaking your head to ask him to stop before he let out your little secret. 

“is she the one–”

“–yes, david. she’s the one.” 

he finally caught the hint, and chuckled to himself as he waved hi to her. she waved back, no doubt in confusion of the connection between him and her. she made a mental note to ask you about it later. 

–

when the new leg was fitted on him, david was practically almost jumping for joy at the new flexibility and strength it gave him. his laughter was infectious, as natasha quickly learned, when it caught up to her after it caught you and the assistant, as well. 

“look at the reflexes! and fluidity of this thing!” no longer was he hobbling and exerting his entire strength on the one leg, it was almost as if the leg was natural and part of him itself, as david brought you in for a hug enthusiastically. 

you hugged him back, still grinning. “amazing right, what science can do for you. soon, the future of prosthetics is going to change, and we can make so many more lives better in our community.”

“you two are amazing, simply amazing!” david exclaimed, even as he finally accepted the assistant’s help in testing out the other features of the prosthetic. 

–

natasha stayed until the end of the day for you, when david’s tests were complete and he was all but ready to leave. 

“and to what i owe you this time, again?” he asked. you knew he didn’t have much, it was the sole reason you took him on for the project; but the fact that he remained so grateful, always offering payment, even when you had repeatedly rejected him, always touched you. 

“for you to come back next week, as always. and to thank mr. parker here for all his efforts. i couldn’t have done all this without him.” 

your assistant looked like he was going to cry at the recognition and hug david gave him. “doing a good job, kid.”

you held the door open for david then, and he stole one last glance at natasha before he left. “you know, your girlfriend here really is a genius, ms. black widow. the best of her–”

“–thank you, david!” you cut in, visibly more in a panic this time, as you held his hand and ushered him out, “just a friend, a friend!”

“what?” he didn’t seem keen to leave, “i’m just helping the two of you speed things along. god knows she wouldn’t have stayed here in this boring lab all day, running tests on an old war veteran running his mouth, if she wasn’t smitten with you too!”

natasha’s cheeks instantly reddened, as you sighed in embarrassment. so maybe her feelings were reciprocated, for a while now. 

with the assistant chuckling in the background, you shut the door ushering david out, whispering frustratedly that he was leaking all of your secrets about natasha. “david! i told you and peter about her in confidence!”

“i know, but you didn’t tell me she was head over heels for you too.”

“because she’s not!” you whisper-yelled, “she came just to see what i was doing, and…and…”

and…oh. 

david’s look made sense now. it all made sense now. her shyness around you, the way she always wanted you around, always wanted to know what you were doing, the reasons for her coming all this way to accompany you on your day-off. 

you had thought she wouldn’t be interested, and would leave after seeing what your activities just were, but you hadn’t expected her to stay. and you hadn’t expected to feel her gaze on you throughout. 

“when you know, you know.” he assured, patting you on the back again as he walked off, “trust me, kid. and she’s a good one, you picked a good one.”

–

your assistant had retreated to his corner of the lab when you came back in, while natasha stretched her joints and got ready to leave too. it was dark by then, and you felt guilty for making her stay past dinner. you excused your assistant to leave quickly, before finally turning to her. 

“sorry.”

“for what?” she yawned. 

“for trapping you here with me on your day-off. i feel guilty now.”

she rolled her eyes, before jabbing you slightly. “idiot. i stayed because i wanted to stay. and you didn’t force me here, in fact, i was the one who followed you, remember?”

“yeah, you do need to make sure that the person you’re stalking isn’t a super spy like you before you do that, though.”

at the blush on her cheeks and feigned hurt on her face, you quickly decided to change the subject. “what david said earlier…ignore him. he’s old, a little senile. really doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“really?” natasha frowned, “that’s a shame.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you leaned back against the counter of your station. she continued, “i really wanted what he said to be true.”

you blinked in surprise, unable to hide the shock on your face. it was your turn to be nervous around natasha now. it was always the other way around. perhaps the knowledge of knowing your feelings were mutual beckoned you to retreat to a shy disposition you never showed anyone else. 

natasha shrugged. “damn, i really thought i had a chance with the most wonderful, kind-hearted person i know, who would spend her days off, even, to help people. who i thought was hiding to meet a secret girlfriend or something.”

a smile began to creep its way onto your face. “n-no, no secret girlfriend.”

“shame. i bet that secret girlfriend would be so in awe, falling even more for this person, when she finds out what she does for the people around her. a superhero saving the lives of many as an avenger, and a scientist changing the lives of even more as a civilian.”

“mm,” you took off your lab coat then, coming closer to her. she had a playful glint in her eyes as she put one hand on your chest, preventing you from getting too close. “tell me more praises of what this secret girlfriend would feel about me.”

“this secret girlfriend also does not appreciate when you keep such lovely secrets from her,” she felt your arms on the counter behind her now, entrapping her body with yours, “and when you try to do anything without taking her to dinner first. she’s starving, you know.”

the chuckle that left your lips made natasha only want to kiss you even more. “what do you say i make this secret girlfriend not-so-secret now, and invite her out to dinner with me? her favourite italian down the street from here, my treat.”

in response, the woman before you finally let go of the hand on your chest, and brought her hands to your collar to pull you in, leaving a searing kiss on your lips that left you lightheaded and longing for more, at the same time. 

she held your hand as the both of you walked out of the university, before declaring something she had to say before she forgot, “tell david he should expect to see me around the lab every week from now on too, then.” 

“yes ma’am.”

[baby-stay92]

Movie Night

Pairing: Idol!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

SMUT (MDNI)

Warnings: Hand-fun (both recieving), P in V & unprotected sex (wrap before you tap) - (Let me know if I’ve forgotten any)

WD: 1.939

Credit: baby-stay92

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what had seemed to be the most stressful week ever for you boyfriend Hyunjin, you had decided to surprise him with a nice saturday night dinner and his favourite movie. You had spent the good part of 3 hours preparing and cooking the meal, whilst Jinnie was at dance practice with his band members. You even challenged yourself by making homemade chocolate mousse for dessert which, by the look of things, seemed to be turning out okay. Around 6pm you got a message from Jinnie, saying that practice was over and he’d be home in about half an hour. You quickly answered him back, saying that you had missed him and that you had a surprise ready for him, when he came home. You rush to your shared bedroom, where you quickly change into a tight red cocktail dress and Hyunies favourite high heels of yours. You sat at your vanity mirror and quickly touched up your make up and added some slightly pink lipstick. Once you were satisfied with your outfit, you went back to the kitchen and started setting the table, complete with candle light and a single rose as the centrepiece. Once everything was to your liking, you sat down on one of the bar stools in the kitchen and started scrolling through your phone, waiting for Hyunie to come home. Soon enough you heard the sound of keys unlocking the front door, making you get up from your seat and head down the hallway to greet your beloved boyfriend.

“Honey! I’m home!” He called out whilst hanging up his coat and kicking off his sneakers. You stopped a few steps away from him and smiled widely at him as he turned towards you.

“Welcome home, babe!” You hugged him tightly and continued: “I’ve got a surprise for you!” 

“Hold on, princess.” He smiled down at you, before spinning you in around slowly, so he could drink in every inch of you. “God, you look ethereal, my muse.”

You giggled and felt yourself blush from his compliment. You kissed him quickly before grabbing his hand, dragging him down the hall to the kitchen where the food was on the table, all ready for you both.

“Wauw, babe!” he smiled at the sight. “It looks delicious!” he added and pulled you closer to the table. 

“Oh, I’m glad you like your surprise.” You smile and bite your lip. “How about you go change real quick, so we can eat, huh?” You suggest and he agrees before leaving for the bedroom. 10 short minutes later Hyunie returned, now dressed in dress pants, nice shoes and a simple white dress shirt, he had also managed to quickly fix up his hair, no doubt helped by some dry shampoo.

“Well, well, well!” You smile at him as he leans down to kiss you lightly. “You sure clean up nicely, Mr. Hwang” You add as he pulls out your chair, for you to sit down, before sitting down across from you.

“I thought it best to match your outfit, future Mrs. Hwang.” He replied from across the table. Him calling you his future wife, made you blush again and deep down, you just couldn’t wait for that day you’d get to marry him. After serving you a well-filled plate, he served himself before pouring the wine that you had bought for the occasion.

“Cheers to reaching the end of a stressful week.” You smile as you hold up your glass for him to cheer with you.

“And cheers to you, for always being my rock.” He added and let his glass lightly tap yours, making a ding sound. You both enjoy the meal and talk about the week that’s past, but also the weeks that’s to come. After dinner you start clearing the table, being the hallmark version of a good girlfriend.

“Want any help, princess?” Jinnie asks as he gets up from his seat.

“Actually, would you please go put on the movie? I’ve left it on the coffee table.” You smile, walking towards the kitchen sink to rinse the plates, before putting them in the dishwasher.

“I can do that, love.” he nods and leaves for the living room.

After a while you were both cuddled up on the couch under a blanket. He had an arm around your shoulders and you were leaning against his chest. You caught yourself readjusting as the two main characters in the movie started making out, which embarrassingly turned you on slightly, much to your own surprise. You couldn’t help but wonder if the gorgeous man next to you noticed, but you didn’t dare look at him, in fear of giving it away. But soon enough you learned that the movie couple making out, and now undressing each other, clearly also got him hot and bothered. This was proven by the growing tent of the blanket covering Hyunies lap. You bit your bottom lip and slyly moved your hand to his thigh, where you slowly let it move higher and higher, until you heard him clear his throat. You still didn’t look at him, but simply let your hand palm him over his dress pants.

“Honey…” He groaned lowly. “The movie isn’t over yet” He added, but you could clearly hear the pleasure in his voice.

“And?” You smirked to yourself and quickly undid the button on his pants before unzipping them as well. He didn’t stop you, as a matter of fact, he only moved to give you better access to his semi hard cock. You sat up next to him, quickly pausing the movie before you begin to pump him under the blanket and before you knew it he moved a hand to your thigh, pushing up your dress. As his hand reached for your rather wet centre, a low groan escaped his lips.

“No underwear, huh, princess?” He whispered between moans.

“Didn’t want them to get in the way.” You whispered back, your cheeks turning a light pink. He didn’t respond, he just pushed your thighs apart, before letting his fingers part your lips so he could rub circles on your needy clit. Pleasure filled moans slipped form the both of you and filled the room, as you felt your orgasm coming closer and closer.

“God….S-so close…” You breathed out as you shut your eyes from pleasure, preparing for you to reach your high.

“Good, cum for me, baby” Hyunie Moaned from beside you, knowing what his words did to you. His honey-like voice, pushed you over the edge, ensuring your orgasm to come crashing down on you. He didn’t let you ride out the high, before he grabbed your hand that was still pumping him, forcing you to let go of him as he pulled you on top of him, causing the blanket to fall to the floor. You straddled him, causing your dress to ride up over your hips, your wet and dripping pussy now on display as it hovered over his rock hard dick. You lowered yourself to grind against him as you crashed your lips onto his, needing to feel as much of him as possible. He eagerly kissed you back, soon running his tongue against your lips, begging for you to let him in. You gladly parted your lips, letting your tongues dance together as you felt his hands on your hips. He lifted you up, so he could align himself with your aching hole, using one hand. Without wasting any time, he pushed you down on him - hard. You threw your head back in a loud moan, breaking the kiss as he stretched you around him. God you loved the feeling of your pussy stretching to fit him, the pain was nothing but pure pleasure to you and it almost had you coming again already. Before you could gather your thoughts about what just happened, he started to lift you up off him before slamming you back down, over and over and over again. For each time, your moans grew a little louder, to the point where you for a split second wondered if the neighbours would come knocking to complain. But honestly, you didn’t care - all that mattered to you was the sweet pain-filled pleasure that was being delivered by the feeling of Hyunies dick filling you up, deep inside. He managed to hit that magical spot with every thrust, which no longer surprised you. You knew that he was gifted at hitting your sweet spot just right, as so did he, for that matter. He, in fact, took great pride in knowing that only he had ever managed to hit that spot.

“Good you look so fucking good, bouncing on my like this, sweet baby” he smirked, looking up at you as he moved one hand from your hip. He let it run up your body, making its way to your throat, where he quickly grabbed onto you, and squeezed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the pleasure of being choked by his big veiny hands flushed over you, you loved when he was rough on you, especially when he at the same time, called you sweet pet names. The conflict of the two very different vibes, simply did your head in - and he knew that. He knew that if he wanted your orgasms to be more intense, all he had to do was to mix rough actions with sweet words and god, was he a master at it. He tightens his grip on your throat a bit more as he moved to your ear and whispered:

“That’s it, muse, ride me like your life depended on it” He nibbled at your earlobe as he stopped guiding you up and down on him, now letting you work for pleasure by yourself. You quickly started rocking your hips back and forth, the pleasure still building in your stomach, that familiar knot tightening more and more. His now free hand found its way to your clit, where it immediately started rubbing circles, drawing you even closer to the edge. Suddenly Hyunie began to grind along with you, making it obvious that he, too, was getting close to that sweet release. Both of you started moving more and more frantically and once again both of Jinnies hands were on your hips. You were both hunting the explosion, begging to happen. Not long after, the both of you moaned loudly as you flung over the edge together, causing you to fall forward against him as you slowed down your grinding as you rode out your shared highs. You stayed there for a good minute, letting your breathing calm just a little, before rolling off of Jinnie who was also breathing heavily.

“That wasn’t exactly planned” You giggled and turned Hyunies head to face you before kissing him lovingly.

“But I’m not complaining”, you added after breaking the kiss.

“Neither am I” he smiled softly down at you, his eyes dark from hunger. Without another word he stood up, turned the movie off and quickly scooped you up into his arms before carrying you to the bathroom, so you both could clean up after what had just happened. Once you were both clean and had changed into comfier clothes, Hyunie carried you, princess style, to your bed, where he carefully laid you down before joining you. He pulled the sheets over the two of you and you cuddled in close to him, feeling tired and worn out.

“Goodnight, princess” he murmured before kissing your forehead.

“Goodnight, my prince” you replied tiredly before closing your eyes and giving in to the tiredness.

[dagwmeno]

ummmmmm some killer x dust would be awesom..

Ding ding food is served!! Eat up!!

[tanuki-voice]

Your body ballooned when you gave in to eating junk. There was nothing like the feeling of being stuffed, feeling the sugars and saturated fats crawling through your veins. You loved it, were given over to it, totally addicted. In the end, the thing that broke down your inhibitions wasn't their relentless advertising, or even the clever marketing. It was the coupons.

It began simply: you would come home from work tired and hungry, and order fast food. To expedite the process, you'd downloaded all the value apps for the places in your area. The promises of free stuff and quicker ordering was too good to pass up. However, you'd forgotten to turn off notifications.

Every so often, your phone would ding with a new deal, a temptation, a siren's call to get you to order in exchange for deep discounts. In the beginning, these were free fries, an upgrade to a larger soda, a cheaper sandwich. All the same, on those late nights, it sounded good. Why not treat yourself once in a while?

Of course, soon, "once in a while" turned into "every few days", then "every other day", until you found yourself becoming slowly dependent on the offers, a bit of elation from every little perk. The more you ordered, the more their algorithm could read you, serving you exactly what you desired, calling you each day at the proper time. As if trained, you would feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and your mouth would begin to water. It was time to order.

The algorithm, of course, was not entirely in tune with your identity. It was a being designed to generate profit. By ordering so much, so often, you had managed to convince it you were a large household, and it reacted accordingly. The deals changed to suit this belief, family size meals, multi-packs, pastries by the dozen. You ordered them all, gorging yourself without end to fuel your ravenous appetite.

What began as a dinner routine extended to other meals, and soon after that you'd even find yourself going through the drive-thru for a quick snack between meals. To live in such gluttony, messily pigging out without end, shoveling food into your mouth day after day, brought you such pleasure. You found yourself going back, again and again, every day, consumed by the desire for more. Tonight was no different.

Reclined into your sofa, you awoke from a potent carb nap. Your lunch, two large pizzas, half a dozen donuts, an order of chicken wings, and a 40oz soda, had truly taken it out of you. Your enormous belly strained your comfy pajama pants, barely covered by an extra large t-shirt. Your hands comfortably rested on its pillowy softness. Through the mountains of squishy fat, you felt it rumble. It was time for dinner. And right on schedule, your phone buzzed.

With potent glee you snatched it up. Today, if you ordered in the next hour, you could get a meal for four, burgers, onion rings and milkshakes. The kicker: order now and get two more burgers free. Your payment details had never danced across the screen faster, and thirty minutes later three greasy bags full of food were dropped off judgement-free at your door.

You brought them back to the sofa and began to chow down. It had become tradition for you to eat without a shirt on by now; your meals had long since become too indecent to go without dirtying your clothes. Your tummy bared to the world, you picked up a burger in one hand and a fistful of onion rings in the other, and devoured. Like an animal you ate primally, as if starved, not knowing when your next meal may come. There was no one to tell you you couldn't, only you demanding that you would. Each mouthful was calorie rich, and each was washed down with more food, more milkshake, more trash.

You spared one of your grease covered hands to rub your stretch mark covered stomach. As you teased gassy burps and wind breaks from your middle, it growled, pleased, yet still expectant. Rarely was it ever satisfied. No matter how much you stuffed into it, it wanted more. It commanded you to fill yourself, to bring yourself to the brink, feeling as if you would pop. Your appetite controlled you, but under its warm, pleasant, hazy influence, you were happy to be its willing pawn.

The joy of feeding took priority over anything else. You felt like you could eat forever. Your body would adapt to the gluttonous demon you had become, one whose mind lived in its stomach. To eat was so simple, so thoughtless, mindless. You just let your belly think for you as you ordered, and let it bring you to pleasurable, mind-clearing bliss. Your body, particularly your ample midsection, was a temple, a testament to the food gods you worshipped. You loved to see it grow, to see it flow over you, to see it bulge, swell and fill your chairs and mattresses.

A loud belch stirred you from your enraptured state for just a moment to see that you'd gone through a majority of your offerings. There was a slight sting as you realized your feeding was nearing its end. Suddenly, without thinking, your hand reached for your phone again. Your stomach rumbled. It wouldn't be satisfied with just this, but would you really go over that line? Ordering even more, without thinking? Was this who you had become?

A notification dinged. If you ordered in the next thirty minutes, you could get a dozen eclairs for half price. Your bloated belly purred. Maybe it was who you'd become, and maybe you weren't ashamed of it. You had been, at one point, but that reluctance had faded. This was who you were, an insatiably hungry animal given over to your muses, and you loved every second of it. Dessert wouldn't hurt. And perhaps, maybe, even a little after that. You smiled and confirmed your delivery. You had a long, gluttonous night ahead of you, and you were raring to get started.

[pixiedurango]

Antivan postal service request! A letter between Teia and Viago thats either a love confession, or one of them finding out the others plan to propose 🥺 (or both. Both is good.) I love your writing btw!!

Ding Dong! Antivan Postal Service arrives with another special delivery! My main concern (and probably Viago's even more) is how Teia always seems to be able to gain access to his private paperwork.) Not as much as a letter but more the equivalent of an Excel sheet directly from Viago's private desk. Thank you for the cute ask. It was a lot of fun writing it. Hope you'll like it.

Transcript:

Course of Action - Objective: Proposal Andarateia Cantori

Maybe writing it out makes it less complicated to think through To be sorted for priority later - Work in Progress!

Find date

Find location

Think of menu How many courses are appropriate? Is more really more? What’s her favorite foods? -> How do I find out? Whom shall I hire to cook it? -> (Safety check and -protocol) Safety procedures? How do I make sure all served foods are safe without constant testing (might ruin the mood, must be a way to keep a low profile and still achieve safety -> figure out later)

What beverages to be served? Champagne during proposal? Best brand? Which wine with dinner? -> Delegate to chef to be hired Safety procedures? -> See above

Speech? What to say? Speaking of love? Perks of solidified Union of Houses? Tax benefits (Is that a thing? -> need check before include!) Do I need to write that speech myself? -> find out! -> Hire writer if acceptable Bend the knee? When? When to say what? When to give flowers and ring? Do I have to put it on her finger? Need a sequence plan on that! -> To be executed later

Ring Ring size? -> How to find out? -> Option: 10 drops “go undercover” = 10 mins deep sleep + tape-measure (don’t forget!) What stone? Diamonds, no question!

Flowers Her favorite? -> How to find out? Arrangements for the room Bouquet to go with the ring? Too much?

Music? Her favorite song? -> How to find out? Whom to hire to play? (Safety check and -protocol) Shall I take lessons to refresh my dancing skills? -> Who to hire for that?

What do I do in case she says no? Options: Poison (self)? Poison (her)? -> No, I’m the only idiot to blame here!

Viago, we need to talk!!!!!!!!! -Teia

Find other APS letters here

[wallflowerwritesstuff]

You Chose: Xavier

border credit goes to cafekitsune here on tumblr 🖤

Your apartment building is quiet as always when you enter it, reminding you of the burning in your eyes from having to keep them open. How dare you need your sight to get to the place that would allow them to close for the next fourteen hours or longer! 

Getting into the elevator, you slump against one of the walls, forehead pressing to the cool metal as you drift without realizing. It’s only when you hear another person enter that you open your eyes, alert and fists clenched. It takes a moment to process that you know this person and they are far from a threat. If anything, they’re a god-send. 

“Xavier?” 

“Y/N?” he replies, a fleeting hint of surprise giving way to his usual calm demeanor. “It’s late. Are you just getting home now?”

A half-hearted nod of acknowledgment as you close your eyes again, the doors closing as the two of you await your floors. “It’s been a day,” you offer before he could ask, doing your best to fight sleep, the reminder that any jerky movement would have you writhing in pain serving as a good motivator to stay as still as possible.

“Are you alright?” 

Your lips twitch, but you can’t offer much else. “I will be.”

Xavier is silent after the response, but the heaviness in the air has you opening your eyes to find him watching you intently. 

“What?” you murmur, a deep sigh leaving him as he moves to stand beside you, the gentle dings from the elevator filling the quiet rather unsuccessfully. His palm presses to your cheek, his brow furrowing as he observes your face closely. 

“You’re exhausted.” 

“As is every hunter after a long mission,” you reply with as much of a teasing tone as you can manage. His expression was the same, and yet you were positive he seemed bothered or at least a bit annoyed. Whether it was paranoia or intuition you weren’t sure, your attempts at deciphering which one falling flat when he speaks. 

“You’re hurt.” 

Your lips part, but before you can say much else, you reach the fifth floor and push off the wall. 

“Don’t let me keep you. Goodnight, Xavier.” 

You walk out of the elevator and toward your door, pressing your thumb to the handle and hearing the familiar click of the door unlocking. You enter, waiting for the secondary click to show the door was shut. You pause when you don’t hear it, turning and finding yourself staring up at those same eyes that had been studying you in the elevator. 

It is a miracle you don’t jump out of your skin, a nervous laugh leaving your lips as you tilt your head. “What’s…up?” you ask awkwardly. 

“My statement. You didn’t deny it.” 

Blinking, you push the air from your nose at his stubbornness. You ignore the burn in your chest and core at the action.

“Are you worried?” you tease, stepping forward and jutting your chin. 

“Very,” Xavier said without hesitation, not moving an inch despite your provocation. “Even more so, knowing you.”

Your eyes widen at the blunt words, positive that he was definitely bothered. You wonder if it was a rough day on his end as well, or if maybe, something else had caused him to have a much more foul mood than he led on. You step away not having anything else to say, but your distance motivates him to follow, the door behind him finally clicking into place. 

The lights flicker on at the detected movement, Xavier’s watchful eye nearly making your cheeks warm. 

“Xavier—”

You are almost positive the lightning reveals the puffiness of your eyes better than the elevator had, lowering your gaze until he caught your chin to continue his scan of your face. He doesn’t say anything about it, thankfully, instead exhaling softly and hanging his head. With a brush of his thumb, he lets go. 

“Have you eaten?” 

You pause, the action giving him more information than you’d been willing to offer. 

“I was going to…” you mumble, but Xavier turns and grabs your door handle. 

“Relax here. I’ll get food and come back. Please be careful until I return.” 

Opening your door and looking over his shoulder once, he takes his leave as quietly as he’d entered. You weren’t sure why you expected questions—unsure if you felt relieved or disappointed that there hadn’t been any. You settle on a healthy mix of both, though rather than wishing he would have asked, you wish you could have told him without needing prompting. 

You were tired, you were in pain, and you, until he had arrived, had felt…well, lonely. 

A world of people you could call that would no doubt accept you without question—or in Tara’s case, a million of them—and yet you hadn’t been able to do much as look at your phone screen, let alone dial a number. 

Because that would mean admitting you weren’t as strong as you had to be to survive. 

And Grandma and Caleb hadn’t taken care of you until their deaths for you to crumble entirely. 

Raising a hand to your chest where you felt your heart beating slowly, you shut your eyes, attempting to find any issues in the rhythm. There were none you could detect, but the nerves were always in the back of your mind, especially during times like this. 

A text had you snapping out of your thoughts, Xavier’s icon popping up when you opened the message. 

U want hot or cold food? 

The steady rhythm slowly picked up at the question. You wonder if maybe you are worse off than you thought, fully aware of the reason for your quickening pulse but not sure it is the right time to admit it. 

Him coming to your place despite living upstairs, him offering to get you dinner to make sure you were going to eat….That had to mean he cared, right?

Admittedly, that wasn’t news in and of itself, but to see such an intense side of him because you got hurt was a change you found yourself clinging to despite knowing that such blind hope was as dangerous as the Wanderers that got you into this to begin with.

There’s a soft knock on the door about half an hour later. 

You open the door without checking to see who it was, aware that no one else would be visiting at this hour. Xavier steps inside, a bag of food in one hand and a heftier looking back of miscellaneous medication in the other. 

Hands shoot up in front of you when he offers the medicine for you to rifle through. 

“I’m fine, really!” you try to convince with a half smile, the words comfortable and safe even when you were far from it. You said it on missions, in the office, when you don’t get the stuffed animal from the claw machine…but tonight, it doesn’t sound half as convincing even to your own ears. 

Xavier offers nothing but a sound of acknowledgement, keeping hold of the bags as he leads you to the couch. He sits with you, forcing you to have a proper meal and take the pain meds with water. You notice there are other medicines too, topical treatments specifically, but before you can ask about them, Xavier speaks. 

“Those are for you to use when you are too stubborn to ask for help,” he says, avoiding your eyes. “It’s better to have this here for times when I’m not here to run into you in the elevator.” 

You read over the back labels, some for numbing, some similar to what you used to use when you played sports as a kid. Or, attempted to, if memory serves well. Your heart wasn’t as strong back then meaning that such activity often led to you becoming besties with the ground beneath you. 

“Do you have these at your place, too?” you ask, dropping them back into the bag. 

“No. I don’t use stuff like this.”

Finding it too easy, you nudge his shoulder and are relieved when you don’t feel as much like a truck hit you. Whatever medicine you took, it was like magic. 

“So how do you know they’ll work on me? What if they make me worse?” you joke, his lips parting before his attention returns to his lap. 

“You…raise a good point. Please let me know if they do or don’t. I’ll take full responsibility if you feel ill after taking or using any of—” 

“I was just teasing,” you assure with a groan. You feel almost bad for messing with him, reaching out to place a hand on his. You squeeze. “On a serious note, thank you. For all of this. And I’m…”

“If you’re about to apologize, I’d rather you take another bite of food,” he interrupts, motioning to your half eaten dinner with a subtle nod. He seems to want to say something else, but you are left waiting for an answer when he instead turn his attention to his hands. You fight the grumble that wants to leave you, shoving enough food in your mouth to make your cheeks puff. 

Xavier pushes some air from his nose at the sight of you, the familiar softness you adore returning to his gaze. 

“What will I do with you?” he says under his breath. 

You squint to ask what he means, but he ignores your stare in favor of leaning forward to grab the remote from your coffee table. He holds it out to you as if he hadn’t just given you emotional whiplash. “Your choice.”

You raise a brow. “Shocked at being given such an honor.” 

“Consider it a home-field advantage,” he says with a small smile, growing slightly when you take the remote with a movie already in mind. Neither of you says a word when you settle back onto the couch, closer than before. It just so happens you’re close enough to rest your head on his shoulder, and you think that maybe, in your half-awake state, you feel an arm wrap around you as if you’d break. 

The kiss on your forehead has to be imagined as you drift off to a familiar voice. 

Rest easy, Y/N. Take all the time you need.

You awaken in the morning to an empty apartment, but when you attempt to take a walk later that day to get some fresh air, you return to a bag on your door knob and a note with a single postal stamp with a bunny on it.

The food inside is store-bought, much to your stomach’s relief, but you can’t help but smile a bit at the small box of egg tarts, slightly charred somehow, but making you laugh despite the ache in your ribs.

Want to explore some of the other routes?

Click here to return to the main post for a refresher.

Or, pick your other favorite love interest below:

Xavier

Zayne

Rafayel

Sylus

[gamercookies]

Early Present!

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Romance. 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: boypussy!han, dom!minho, pussy slap, fingering, bit of face-fuck, use of "master"(woah, new nickname!), squirting, praising. 

Note: Merry Christmas! Hope everyone is enjoying their day and I decided to post this bc the title has its meaning but yeah, merry Christmas 🎄💕🫶🏼 Enjoy & Take Care!

It’s Christmas Eve of course, a nice snow day for folks to celebrate, Han however has a special plan for Minho today, in which involves teasing. He had secretly purchased a maid outfit without permission, now Christmas Eve is gonna be enjoyable even more.

Today, December 24, 12:00PM : "Ring ding!" As the alarm clock went off, minho groan in frustration since he wanted to sleep. "Ugh.. is it morning already?" He murmured to Han. "Oh really?! It’s Christmas Eve babe!" Han says happily and gives Minho a quick kiss before he stands up to stretch while Minho pulls the blanket over his head wanting to sleep more.

He reaches over to tap Minho playfully on the shoulder. "Wakey wakey, sleepyhead! Time to get into the holiday spirit."

Minho grumbles and burrows deeper under the covers, clearly not amused by Han's enthusiasm at the crack of dawn. "Five more minutes... pleeease? We've got today and tomorrow," he mumbles, voice muffled by the blankets. Undeterred, Han pounces on the bed, tickling Minho mercilessly until he's giggling and squirming. "No way, Mr."  Han continues his relentless tickle attack, determined to rouse Minho from his cozy slumber nest. "Come on, cutie, it's Christmas Eve! Don't you want to wear something festive?" With a final flourish, Han pins down Minho's arms and leans in close, their faces inches apart. "And I have the perfect outfit for you..." He reaches for the Santa hats. "Ta-da! Isn't it adorable?"

"Han nooo~!!", As he tries to wriggle free, but Han holds him firm, a triumphant glint in his eye. "Oh, come on, don't be such a Grinch!" Han teases, placing the hat gently on Minho's head. "It suits you, really. You're so cute when you're all scowly and flustered like this." Minho lets out a dramatic sigh, resigned to his fate. "Fine, fine. But if I look ridiculous, I'm blaming you!" With that resolved Han jumps out of bed, excitedly, and hurries to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, and a wonderful breakfast for his boyfriend.

… 

Meanwhile, Han hurried over to the couch where the box containing his outfit was hidden right after he finished preparing breakfast.

Han carefully opens the box, revealing the maid costume inside. His heart races with excitement as he unfolds the skirt and holds it up, admiring how it will look on him. "Okay, here goes nothing!" He puts it over his head, once he’s done he finally puts on knee-high stockings, grabs the tray of food and heads to the bedroom. "Hey handsome, I brought you some breakfast before we enjoy ourselves." 

Minho looks up, surprised to see Han standing there holding a tray laden with pancakes, eggs, and bacon. His gaze then drops to Han's lower half, taking in the sight of the short plaid skirt hugging Han's hips, followed by the white apron and frilly knee-high socks. "Uh... wow," Minho manages to stammer, blinking rapidly as he processes the unexpected visual feast before him. "You look... different," he admits, trying to keep a straight face despite the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Very festive indeed," he adds with a hint of sarcasm, gesturing to the Santa hat on top of his head.

After serving breakfast, Han sets the tray aside and climbs onto the bed, crawling over to Minho with a playful grin. He scoots in close, their thighs touching as he leans in to whisper mischievously in Minho's ear. "So, what do you think of my new look? Pretty cute, right?" Minho chuckles, shaking his head in amusement even as a small smile tugs at his lips. "I suppose it grows on you," he concedes, reaching out to lightly trail a finger along the edge of Han's apron. 

A few hours later, they're cozied up on the couch in the living room, snuggled beneath a soft blanket as they watch "The Grinch" on TV. Minho reaches over to steal a handful of popcorn from Han's bowl, earning a mock scowl from his boyfriend. "Hey, those are mine!" Han protests, pretending to be offended as he tries to snatch the pilfered kernels back. Minho just grins, popping another piece into his mouth. "Sharing is caring, babe," he teases, nudging Han playfully with his elbow. 

Han narrows his eyes at Minho, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "You know, stealing snacks is totally Grinch-like behavior," he accuses, wagging a finger at his boyfriend. "Maybe you should just stay in Whoville and leave the good stuff alone!" Minho laughs, tossing another piece of popcorn in his mouth. "Hey now, I resent that," he says around the chewy morsel. 

Han can't resist the opportunity to tease Minho further, shifting closer until their bodies are pressed together. He drapes an arm around Minho's shoulders, fingers tracing idle patterns on his boyfriend's side. "Mmm, you feel warm," Han purrs, nuzzling into Minho's neck. "Like a big, cuddly Who-ville dweller." Minho shivers at the intimate contact, his breath hitching slightly. 

Feeling restless, Han excuses himself to use the restroom, leaving Minho alone on the couch.

As soon as Han closes the bathroom door, Minho lets out a frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. The teasing had been fun, but now his body aches for more of Han's touch. He shifts restlessly, adjusting his position on the couch but finding no relief. "Damn it, Han," he mutters under his breath, "you always know just how to get under my skin."

After 10 minutes, Han emerges from the bathroom, a bit of toilet paper fell on the floor. As he bends over to retrieve the dropped paper towel, his skirt rides up, giving Minho a tantalizing glimpse of Han's bare bottom. Minho's eyes widen, and he swallows hard, his mouth going dry. "Oops my bad," Han says huskily, while Minho eyes were unable to tear his gaze away from the delectable view. 

Minho's patience snaps, and he lunges forward, pinning Han against the wall with a fierce grip on his wrists. "That's it, isn't it?" Minho growls, his face inches from Han's. "You've been driving me crazy all day with your flirting and teasing, and now you're just going to leave me hanging?" 

Han squirms against the wall, trapped by Minho's strong hold. His breathing quickens, and he meets Minho's intense gaze with wide, pleading eyes. "I didn't mean to, I swear," Han pleads, his voice trembling slightly. "I just couldn't help myself." Minho's grip on Han's wrists loosens, replaced by gentle fingers stroking through Han's hair. "Shh, it's okay," Minho soothes, pressing a tender kiss to Han's forehead. "I love when you get all playful and affectionate. Just next time, maybe give me a little warning before leaving me desperate and aching for you, hmm?" 

Han bites his lip, looking up at Minho with a mix of innocence and desire. "I want you, Minho," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "Please, I need you so badly."

Minho's eyes darken with lust as he notices something important - Han's skirt has ridden up, exposing the smooth, bare flesh of his thighs. And below that, nestled between his legs, a glistening pink mound that's clearly not covered by any underwear. "Fuck, Han," Minho groans, his hands sliding down to grip Han's hips. "You naughty boy, not wearing anything underneath that skirt?"

Han blushes softly, "Y-yeah baby.. it’s just for yo- Ah!” As his voice gets cut off by a slap towards his pussy, "M-Minho~" Han moans again. As Minho brings his palm down again to his pussy, this time harder, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Look at you, all flushed and panting," Minho purrs, his fingers dipping between Han's legs to stroke the damp folds of his pussy. "Your little clit is throbbing, begging for attention. Such a greedy slut, aren't you?"

"Yes! I’m so greedy for you.. it’s been weeks since I’ve been touched down there." Han whines needing his finger in him. With a smirk, Minho delivers another firm smack to Han's pussy, making the boy yelp and clench around nothing. "Liar," Minho accuses playfully, his fingers trailing up Han's inner thigh. "I bet you've been fingering yourself silly on the days I went to work." 

Han's cheeks flush a deep crimson, and he looks away, unable to meet Minho's piercing gaze. "Y-yeah, okay, fine," he admits sheepishly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I may have touched myself a few times... but it's not the same as having you!"

Minho chuckles darkly, his free hand reaching up to cup Han's chin and force him to look at him. "Oh, really? Then why do you taste like you've been licking your own pussy, huh?" 

"M-maybe because I did touch myself a few minutes ago in the bathroom.. and that’s why I took long Minho.” Han says looking down blushing shyly admiring the truth. Han nods, biting his lip nervously as he waits for Minho's reaction. "Yeah, I guess that's what happened," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to tease you, though. I just couldn't resist the urge." Just before he could speak again, Minho picks him up bridal style "Woah! Put me down!", Han squeals as he’s being carried towards the bedroom, and gently pushes Han into the bed and he pins him with his body. 

Minho grins, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Han's skirt and tugging it down. "Well, if you're going to tease me like that, you better be prepared for the consequences," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "Spread your legs, Han. Let me see how wet you are." 

Han obeys without hesitation, parting his thighs to give Minho an unobstructed view of his glistening pink folds. "See?" Han says breathlessly, his chest heaving with anticipation. "I'm dripping for you already."

Minho's gaze rakes over Han's exposed sex, drinking in the sight of his boy pussy on display. "Fuck, you're gorgeous like this," he murmurs, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses along Han's inner thighs. "I'm going to make you scream my name, Han. Get ready."

"Yes Minho." Han murmurs. "Yes? Is that all?" Suddenly, he slaps Han’s pussy again causing him to moan and arch back. “Ahh! I’m sorry!” 

Minho leans close to his ear and whispers, "It’s master to you, slut. Got that baby?"

"Yes, Master," Han murmurs submissively, his body quivering with need.

Minho smirks, pleased by Han's obedient response. His hand comes down in a stinging slap against Han's sensitive pussy, making the boy cry out. "That's right, pet. Remember who owns this pretty little cunt," Minho commands, his fingers tracing the reddened flesh. "Now, spread wider for me. I want to see everything."

Han gasps, his legs shaking as he complies, splaying himself open for Minho's hungry gaze. The cool air hits his slick, swollen lips, making them pucker and gleam. "Master..." Han moans softly, his hips twitching upward in silent plea. Minho devours Han's pussy with abandon, his talented tongue swirling and probing every sensitive fold. He laps up the boy's sweet nectar, savoring the unique flavor that's uniquely Han. One hand slides up to fondle Han's clit, playing with it gently as he sucks and nibbles on the tender skin of his inner thighs.

"Master, please!" Han begs, his voice high and desperate. "I need more... I need you inside me!" Minho pulls back, his chin glistening with Han's juices, and smirks up at the panting boy. "Patience, pet. We're just getting started."

Han whimpers in frustration, his body trembling with the effort of staying still. He wants Minho so badly, needs to feel his cock stretching him wide, filling him up completely. But he trusts his him, knows that Minho will take care of him when the time is right.

Minho stands, towering over Han's prone form, and quickly sheds his clothes. His thick, hard cock springs free, bobbing eagerly in front of him. Han's eyes widen at the impressive sight, his mouth watering in anticipation. 

"Get on your knees, Han," Minho orders, his voice low and commanding. "Show me how much you want it."

Han scrambles to obey, dropping to his knees in front of Minho. He reaches out, wrapping his small hand around the base of Minho's impressive cock, feeling it throb against his palm. Leaning forward, Han parts his lips and takes the head into his mouth, sucking gently.

"Mmmph, yeah, just like that," Minho groans, his fingers threading through Han's hair to guide him. Han relaxes his throat, taking more of Minho's length into his mouth as he bobs his head, working the shaft with eager enthusiasm.

After a moment, Minho pulls Han off, his cock glistening with saliva. "Enough teasing," he growls, hoisting Han up and tossing him onto the bed. "Time to fill that greedy hole of yours."

Han squeals in delight as he's tossed onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress with a giggle. He spreads his legs wide, presenting himself to Minho like a sacrificial offering. "Please, Master, I need you so bad!" he pleads, his boy pussy clenching hungrily.

Minho climbs onto the bed, kneeling between Han's thighs. He grips Han's hips, pulling the boy closer until their bodies align. With a swift thrust, Minho sheaths his cock deep inside Han's tight heat, a low grunt escaping him at the exquisite sensation. "Oh fuck, yes!" Han cries out, his back arching off the bed as he's stretched and filled to capacity. Minho sets a relentless pace, pounding into Han's willing body with powerful strokes that shake the bedframe.

Han meets each of Minho's thrusts with equal fervor, his hips rising to greet the invading cock. Their bodies slap together in a lewd symphony of flesh on flesh, the sound echoing through the room. Han's hands roam over Minho's back, nails digging in as he's driven wild by the intense pleasure.

"Harder, Master, please!" Han begs, his voice raw with need. Minho obliges, slamming into Han with brutal force, the head of his cock battering against the boy's prostate with each stroke. Han's vision whites out, his mind consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through him.

Han's entire body seizes up, his back arching nearly vertical as his climax rips through him like a hurricane. "Minho! Fuck..! I-I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna break!" he moans, his voice cracking with the intensity of his release.

As Minho continues to pound into him, Han's overloaded senses finally reach their limit. With a keening wail, he erupts, a gush of clear fluid squirting from his spasming pussy to coat Minho's cock and abdomen. The warm splash paints Minho's skin, marking him with evidence of Han's surrender to pleasure. Minho roars, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He buries himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as he fills Han's convulsing channel with his hot seed.

Minho withdraws, his softening cock slipping free of Han's well-used hole. A trickle of cum follows, dribbling down Han's thigh as he lies there, boneless and satisfied. Minho settles beside him, pulling Han into his arms and holding him close with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Damn, baby, you squirted all over me," he teases, wiping a trickle of fluid from his cheek. Han blushes, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Hehe.. I couldn't help it," he replies, his voice drowsy with contentment. "You made me lose control." Minho chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to Han's forehead. "Good boy," he murmurs. 

“Merry Christmas.. baby, even though it’s tomorrow I decided to give you an early present from me.” Han murmurs as he drifts off to sleep. 

Minho's brow furrows in confusion as he hears Han's mumbled words. "Wait, what early present?" he asks, tilting his head to look at the sleeping boy in his arms.

Minho's eyes narrow, a hint of suspicion creeping into his expression. After a few minutes he carefully extracts himself from Han's embrace, sitting up and turning to face the slumbering boy. "Han, wake up," he says firmly, gently shaking Han's shoulder. Han's eyelids flutter open, bleary and unfocused. "Wha...?" he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. Minho's grip on his shoulder tightens. "Tell me about this 'early Christmas present'."

"Oh, um... I might have forgotten to get you anything for Christmas," he admits, looking away in embarrassment. "So I thought maybe I could, uh, give you something else instead..."

His cheeks flush a deep crimson as he trails off, unable to meet Minho's gaze. Minho's eyes widen, a mix of shock and amusement dancing in their depths. "Give me something else? Like what, exactly?" he prompts, his tone laced with playful curiosity. Han swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his throat. "Well... I, uh... I gave you my virginity," he stammers out, the words tumbling from his lips in a rush.

Minho stares at Han for a long moment, processing the boy's confession. Then, to Han's surprise, a deep rumble of laughter escapes him. "Your virginity, huh?" he repeats, grinning widely. "I think that was the best gift I could've asked for, baby."

He leans in, capturing Han's lips in a tender kiss filled with affection and gratitude. When they part, Minho cups Han's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking the delicate skin beneath Han's eyes. "You didn't have to do that, you know," he says softly. "But I'm glad you did. It means everything to me."

Han's heart swells at Minho's words, a sense of warmth and belonging washing over him. "I wanted to," he whispers, his voice sincere. "Because I love you, Minho."

Minho's grin softens, his expression turning gentle and loving. "And I love you too, Han," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything." He pulls Han into another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate, conveying the depth of his feelings.

As they make out, Minho's hands wander over Han's body, tracing the curves and contours of the boy's form with reverence. He breaks the kiss to murmur against Han's lips, "Let's celebrate your first Christmas as mine properly, okay?"

With that, Minho scoops Han up into his arms, cradling him against his chest. He carries the boy out of the bedroom, heading toward the living room where a small Christmas tree stands, adorned with colorful ornaments and twinkling lights.

[haoboutyou]

hi!! ur mornings with u with wonu fic is so so so sweet ahhhh 😭😭 i was wondering if you’d be open to writing a seungkwan version? i hope this is okay to ask!!

to love to the point of invention | boo seungkwan

fluff | 574 words | food mention: a lot of tangerines

an: fren i’m so sorry this took awhile!! you must understand i wrote two entirely different drabbles and then made @bluehoodiewoozi choose 😔🫶 thank u for reading the wonu fic!! hope you enjoy this one too 👉👈

wonu ver. | coups ver.

a weekend trip to jeju-do meant that your little apartment was now stocked up with a whole carton of tangerines enough to last you a whole month. naturally, you’ve learned to get creative with it. cake, sorbet, marmalade– you name it, you’ve probably already done it.

maybe that’s why you’ve resorted to scrolling through pinterest for ideas. all you’ve found so far are just even more variants of the aforementioned desserts.

sorbet.

cake.

marmalade.

repeat.

you sigh, looking up from your spot in the kitchen. seungkwan’s seated on the sofa, nose buried deep in a book he bought at the jeju airport before your flight back earlier this morning. it may have been 4pm now, but his hair is still a little mussed from accidentally taking a nap in the plane earlier. you giggle to yourself, inwardly cooing over how your boyfriend looks like a teddy bear.

oh. a light bulb dings in your mind.

this time, you carefully carve out a little bear head, arms and feet out of the peel. it sticks out of the tangerine like a little round teddy bear.

“seungkwan!”

the pitter-patter of your feet causes him to look up from his book, nestled comfortably on the sofa. setting aside the book, he gestures you to take a seat next to him.

you tuck in your legs under you on the sofa, all while balancing a plate with your hands. the sweet scent of tangerines flood his senses. you’re grinning at him, proudly showing off your latest work of art as you extend the plate towards him.

“is that a bear?” you nod enthusiastically.

he tilts his head as he takes the plate from you, rotating it and examining the poor tangerine from all angles. he scrunches his nose and frowns, much like a highly-established critic judging actual artworks. it doesn’t take long for him to break out into a grin as big as yours.

he holds the tangerine-bear to his face. “how is it? do we match?”

“100%!”

“aigo, our y/nnie is such a talented artist!!” he balances the plate on one hand, swinging his free arm around you to pull you into a hug.

“–eek!”

the sudden momentum causes you both to fall back on the sofa, you landing on top of him. it’s a miracle that the plate hasn’t spilled over, you think.

your little yelp draws a giggle from seungkwan, and soon enough, you’re both doubled over with laughter.

laughter finally bubbling down, you pull yourself away from seungkwan’s cozy embrace. you take the plate from seungkwan and set it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“did you like it?”

he leans in to plant a peck on your cheek. “it’s adorable. i love it.”

“great, because i made like five more in the kitchen!”

his jaw comically drops at your words, and it only serves to make you laugh even harder. instead, he chooses to wipe your diabolical grin with a kiss, effectively silencing you. he grabs onto your waist, pulling you in once again as he leaned back down on the sofa. wrapping your arms around his neck, you can only succumb to his addictive lips as they chase after yours fervorously.

is this what they call to ‘love to the point of invention’? you shrug off such a silly thought. surely that’s not marvel enough to be called an invention of love.

maybe you’ll try making tanghulu tomorrow.