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ktaerssoi · 6 months ago

Note

plsss kate martin angst

drunk words

kate martin x fem!reader summary: you had known kate since you were kids, what happens when you except your feelings for her?

you and kate had known each other for years, you had even gone to Iowa with her. over the years, you've developed a small crush on her, kate's amazing attitude and kindness drawing you to her.

kate walks into your shared apartment, arms full of grocery bags. you quickly spring up from your spot on the couch to help her. "hey, successful trip?" you joke, gasping as you spot your favorite snack.

kate laughs, closing the fridge as she looks at your excited expression. "i saw you were running low, thought i would get you some more."

you quickly put it in your secret stash in your room, "what would i do without you?" kate shrugs, her eyes seeming to sparkle. "i dunno, probably starve."

"oh shut up, acting as if i don't do anything by myself.." you mumble the last part, continuing to put away groceries.

"hey i heard there's a party tonight! wanna go? i heard there will be cute guys." kate nudged your arm lightly, smirking at the thought of setting you up with someone. "plus you and i both know we need to get out more."

"hey, i get out! plus, i don't need any guys, i have you for a reason." you cross your arms as you watch her put away the last item. "okay true," kate hums, "but I'm tired of rotting away every friday night. it'll be fun i swear. need a remind you about the cute guys?"

you sigh, nodding. "okay, what time is it at?" you over to the clock on the wall, it reading 5:23 pm. "it starts at eight but we should probably get there earlier for the good liquor." kate winks, a grin on her face.

"i bet i could get a guy to get me a drink," she smiles, leaning against the kitchen counter. "can you shut up about the guys? that's not helping."

kate was taken aback by your sudden attitude, but her shock was quickly replaced by a smug look. "are you jealous or something?"

you scoff, rolling your eyes at her implication. "jealous? of what?" you tried to shrug off her idea, knowing deep down you were jealous that she wasn't talking about you like that.

kate gives you a teasing look, smirking "yes you are! admit it, you're crushing on some girl." she gasps, giggle "aw are you crushing on me?" she teases you, playfully pushing your shoulder.

"no kate, can't you just drop it?" you uncross your arms, walking over your bed as you try to ignore her surprisingly accurate accusation. kate laughs as she follows, jumping onto your bed next to you. "c'mon you know i won't judge, just tell me"

"no kate, this is something i want to keep to myself." you turn on your side, facing away from her. kate frowns, a little disappointed. she stays silent for a few moments before speaking again. "okay fine, i'll drop it, but you know i always find out."

"shut up," you mumble into your pillow, "plus how could i have a crush on you? i'm not even gay." kates eyes widen before she bursts out laughing, "good one, but we both know that's bullshit."

you don't say anything, know that speaking would just dig yourself a deeper hole of no return. you decide to take a quick nap before the party.

you wake up a little before seven, meaning you had about an hour to get ready. you first got dressed, throwing on something party-appropriate. realizing that kate had fallen asleep too, i woke her up. “c’mon kate, we gotta go soon.”

she got up with a groan, dragging her feet over to the bathroom. kate usually takes a little while to get ready, but she manages a good pace as she walks around the apartment. "ready,"

you stand up from your seat at the kitchen table, looking at her up and down. she looks good. "you look really pretty," kate smiles at you, causing color to rush to your cheeks.

you point to the door, regaining your composure, "lead the way." the party wasn't far from your apartment, so the two of you opted to walk. as you got up to the house you could already feel the vibrations of the loud music.

kate takes a look at you and grins, "alright, lets do this." you shake your head as she pulls you forward, walking through the front door. taking a deep breath, you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. people were crowding the small space, empty solo cups already littered the available surface area.

kate quickly got caught up with people, fitting right in. you on the other hand, had made your way to a nearby wall, trying to scope out the people. you smiled as you spotted jada and gabbie, two of kate's teammates.

the duo was taking to a group of football players, and you grabbed a drink on the way over to calm your nerves. "hey guys," jada's face lights up at your appearance, and gabbie is quick to hug you.

"hey! we didn't expect to see you here tonight?" gabbie looked to jada, who then nodded at you. "yeah how's it going?" jada took a sip of her drink, waiting for your answer.

"good, kate dragged me here. something about cute guys." you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. jada looks around, nodding. "yeah, i guess there are some cute guys here. they're all total douchebags though."

gabbie nods, also looking around. "speaking of our dear friend kate, where is she?" you pause, trying to remember if you saw her on your way over. "um, last i saw she was talking to some group of girls."

jada and gabbie give each other a look, causing your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. "what?" you ask, feeling nervous almost. "nothing, it's just kate said she liked someone and we've been trying to figure out who." jada explains

"and you think its a girl?" you take another sip of your drink, taking in the new information. why hadn't kate told you? "well she said no to every guy we said, so were out of ideas. plus it would kind of make sense"

"how?" you were interested, maybe you did have a chance. "well you know, you guys have always kind of been like, you know." gabbie tries to explain, but you don't understand what she means. "no? i don't know?"

"you guys have always had that kind of friend or dating type of thing." jada puts in bluntly, causing you to nod a barely audible 'oh' escaping your lips. "we're not saying she likes you though, or that we think you're like that, just, you know."

"no, i still don't 'know'" you cross your arms, tired of people being vague. "i'm going to go get a refill," i mutter, walking away from them.

getting over to the drink table, you run into the main topic of conversation. kate was chatting it up with a new group of people, all of which seemed to be paying a great deal of attention to her. you know it's wrong, but you're tired of seeing her with everyone but you.

you pour yourself another drink before walking over to her. "hey kate," you mumble, squeezing in between her and some random guy from the group she was talking to.

kate turns to you, still laughing from whatever joke the guy had said. she beamed at you, giving you a once-over. "look who it is! i was wondering where you went."

"i ran into jada and gabbie, so i was hanging with them." you smile, and you can smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath. kate giggles as she sees you eyeing her. "mm, well im trying to have fun too and these guys aren't the best company, you know?"

why does everyone think you know? you turn to look at the group of guys, they're all drunk, laughing their asses off about something. "but anyway, you're here now," she murmurs, looping her arm around your waist loosely. "we can have our own fun now,"

you nod, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "yeah sure, want to go dance?" kate smiles as she pulls you to the makeshift dance floor. the alcohol had clearly relaxed her significantly, making her more carefree and touchy.

you smile as you watch kate, she looked like she was having fun, even catching some people's attention. a few songs in a guy approaches you, "hey, i noticed you dancing over here. is that your girlfriend?" you laugh as he nods to kate. "uh no, she is just my roommate."

"oh so you're single then?" he gives you a cheesy smile as he looks you up and down. "you're really pretty, would you maybe want to go grab a drink?" you turn back to kate, seeing her talking to some other girl.

"yeah, i would love to." the guy smiles, offering you his hand. "i'm eric, by the way." he comments as he leads you away from kate. "okay, i am going to make you the best damn party drink you've ever had." eric says, grabbing a cup.

"hmm, i don't know, a shearly temple is pretty hard to beat." you laugh, watching him pour things into your cup carefully. meanwhile, kate has finished up her conversation, and is now scanning the room for you, coming up empty-handed.

"so you having fun tonight?" eric asks, handing you the cup. "yeah, it's been fun. i don't go to parties much." you nod, taking a sip of the drink he made. "really? you seem like the type to be invited to them all the time."

"i didn't say i don't get invited, i just don't come." you laugh, nodding your head as you take another sip. "you're a real stunner and you always know what to say, i like that in a girl. want to find somewhere quieter where we can talk?"

he eyes you hungrily, and you realize how much taller he is than you. "aw, im flattered but i need to finish this drink you made me! it's really good." you say, taking yet another sip.

"you could be enjoying much more than the drink if you come with me." he smiles, whispering into your ear. "thanks for the offer but i have to get back to my roommate, she's a. bit of a lightweight if you know what i mean."

"you're picking her over me? i thought we were having a good time, but i guess we have to cut it short because your friend can't handle herself." you nod, confused as to where this attitude is coming from. "yeah, i guess we will."

you walk away, trying to locate kate. you finally spot her talking to jada, a worried look on her face. "hey guys, what's up?" you say breathlessly, tired from squeezing through the crowd. kate's eyes widen as she sees you, relaxing a little. "there you are, i was looking everywhere for you. where'd you go? and why didn't you answer my text?"

"oh sorry, i was with some guy." kate narrows her eyes at your response, seeming almost mad. "'some guy?' who? and how is he more important than us? what were you even talking about" kate was mad, she was mad that you had someone else prioritized above her.

"a bunch of things, and it wasn't like we were hooking up in the bathroom, so calm down." you cross your arms, getting defensive. "he asked if i was single and you were off talking to some girl so i just said yes. he was a nice guy."

"what was his name? or did you guys not get to talking about that?" kate asked pointedly. "what is with the interrogation? i said he was a nice guy alright?" you roll your eyes, not quite sure why she was acting this way.

kate places her hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you? "hey im just trying to understand who this guy is." you shrug her hand off of you, pulling back. "okay i just told you, so can you drop it? i'm going to go get a drink."

kate flinches, her smile dropping as you brush her off. "whats with her mood?" jada asks, sitting on the couch next to kate. "shut up, dude." kate says, leaning back, resting her head on top of her head.

"fuck," you mumble as you accidentally spill a drink. you eventually clean it up. after that, not paying any mind to how you might feel the next day, you pour yourself a few more just to try and lighten your mood.

you find your way to the dance floor again, you see kate as you dance. you don't know if she sees you, but you dance as if she's watching you.

some random football player comes up to you, just making you even more ticked off. you excuse yourself, squeezing past him to go find kate. even if you were slightly upset, you weren't going to leave with out her.

kate sees you coming towards her, and her face lights up immediately. she moves to wrap her arms around you, relieved to see you again. but as she looks closer, she notices your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, and her smile fades. "hey are you okay? you look a bit..drunk."

she pulls back from the hug slightly, gently holding your face in her hands and studying your expression. "yeah i'm fine, can we go home?" you hiccup.

"yeah, yeah for sure. hey jada we're going to head out." kate days bye to people on the way out, guiding you through the crowd with her hand on your lower back.

"sorry i'm making you leave so early." you mumble, your eyes barely staying open. "hey, it's okay. don't worry about me. i just want to make sure you're alright." she looks at you with concern in her eyes, clearly worried about your emotional state.

once you and kate get back to your apartment you quickly change, completely forgetting she was still there. "woah, hey im still here." kate says, turning around, even if she has seen you many times before.

"sorry, you can turn back now." you mutter, walking to the bathroom to wash your face. "hey, don't worry about it. It's no big deal. I just wasn't expecting you to change so quickly." she smiles softly, noticing the tear stains on your cheeks. her heart aches for you, and she wants nothing more than to comfort you

"guys suck, so much." you sigh, climbing into bed, "and i don't even like them!" kate chuckles, a mixture of amusement and sympathy in her eyes. "yeah, well you know you don't have to force yourself to like them? you don't need to be in a relationship to be happy."

you nod, still very much under the influence, "i guess, but like i don't like any men, like i just want you. why can't you want me like i want you?" you begin to doze off, "things would be so much easier."

kate's heart skips a beat at your admission, her eyes widening in surprise. she wouldn't admit it, especially to your drunk self, but she knew deep down she wanted you too.

"get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow." kate said, leaning down and brushing some hair out of your face.

notes: sooo 🌝 you asked for kate angst and i think i failed miserably but whatever! anyway, i hate this sm and it makes zero sense so i would love feedback!

#wcbb #kate martin #wlw #iowa wbb #kate martin x reader #katecantwrite

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spacebaby1 · 3 months ago

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Rindou, Chifuyu and Inupi headcanons?

Them reacting to their girl doing the tiktok trend of “putting on sunglasses so my bf doesn’t know where i’m looking” and then it cuts to the girl very obviously staring at their bf’s chest or biceps

(thank u for the content and Rindou love ❤️)

Omg yes! Lol

Inupi:

He had been working out in your house gym for the last few hours since he couldn't go to the gym and it was raining. You obviously decided it's a good time to do the trend. He saw you entered the gym with a small smile on your face and sunglasses on top of your hair as you fixed the phone to stand where it was recoding clearly. Inupi was used to you recoding random Tiktoks; he's the type of boyfriend that will be accidentally walking behind you when you're recording and just walk away and would wave sometimes leaving do what you do. You took the sunglasses from top of your hair and put it on, "putting on sunglasses so my bf doesn't know where i'm looking." And you walked to sit next to where he was doing squats eyeing his legs. At first, he was confused before he realised what you just said and burst into laughing sitting down, and you still didn't move, trying to hold your smirk back as he gently flicked your sunglasses making you laugh. He took your sunglasses and put them on, looking at you.

Chifuyu:

Laying on the bed he was going through his phone (probably admiring pictures of you that he likes to take.) You entered the room with sunglasses making his raise a brow, you pointed the camera towards yourself, "putting on sunglasses so my bf doesn't know where i'm looking." Before walking towards him and falling on the bed beside him only to continue recording yourself looking at his abs that were peeking from under his shirt. "Uh-babe?" You hushed him, still staring at his abs. "You have no idea what I'm looking at." He put his phone away and just accepted his fate of being stared at before you burst into laughter because of how he was holding his breath and not even moving. "WHAT?" He asked, and you kept laughing, leaving him confused.

Rindou:

Babe, I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this man is already ahead of you on trends. The first time you tried to do this trend with him went something like this. You knew how much shy Rindou gets holding eye contact with you so you sneaked in his office to find him half leaning on the table with his hand covering his left side so you stood there and pushed recording, he immediately turned towards you holding his own phone and recording; in his sunglasses. "What? Huh? What?" He asked confidentiality, catching you off guard, and you couldn't stop laughing at him as he cheered himself on doing this trend. You did it again when he was head in the fridge, and you tiptoe towards him, only for him to shut the fridge door wearing his sunglasses and a recording already sending you in a fit of wheezing You decided to give it a time before doing the trend again when he had no idea, so you waited for the perfect chance, and he went to the gym, and Ran came around to hang out with you. After few hours later Rindou came home seeing you and Ran sitting on the couch, he decided to join you two and almost got surprised when he saw you both in sunglasses and staring at him while you had your phone recording. He rolled his eye, giving up and flexing his abs for the screen before you screamed, and Ran jumped to stop his brother before he pulled the shirt up. At least you got him this time.

#rindou x y/n #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou haitani fluff #chifuyu fluff #chifuyu #chifuyu x reader #tokyo revengers chifuyu #inupi seishu #tokrev inupi #tokyo revengers fanfiction

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666writingcafe · 4 months ago

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Banshee

Hearing faint noise coming from within the House of Lamentation as I approach the front door is nothing new. At least one of the brothers is in the middle of doing something loudly whenever I arrive, and depending on what it is, I either help them out or stop them before they go too far.

That, however, doesn't prepare me for the continuous high-pitched wailing that assaults my ears the minute I open the door. If it weren't for Beel running outside and slamming the door behind him seconds later, I'm sure my eardrums would have burst and began bleeding. Whatever it is, it's that loud.

He puts his back against the door, trying to catch his breath. Once he's composed, I ask him,

"What the hell is going on in there? Why is someone yelling at the top of their lungs?" The shock is evident in his eyes as he glances over at me.

"You can hear it too?" Well, this isn't good. Either we've both gone completely mad, or the thing in question is specifically targeting the two of us.

"Of course I can. My ears are still ringing from all the screaming." Beel sighs in relief.

"Thank Father...I thought I was going crazy. The others certainly look at me that way. I'm sure once they figure out that I'm no longer inside, they're going to start freaking out and worrying that I'm on another rampage, but that honestly isn't my intention. I just was going to run as far away from it as I could."

"Would a long walk be enough? I'm not nearly as fast as you are, plus it'll give us a chance to talk more about what happened, if that's something you feel like doing." Beel nods his head, and I extend my hand out to him as we walk away from the House.

~~~

We end up sitting on a park bench in a secluded corner of one of my favorite parks in the Devildom. It's relatively unknown, so not many people frequent it, and this particular area is partially hidden by some thick foliage. All in all, a near perfect place to have a private conversation without someone eavesdropping.

"So, let's start from the beginning," I instruct Beel. "What events led to someone shrieking like that?" He sighs.

"My brothers were coming up with ideas to prank Lucifer. He's spending the afternoon at the castle, you see, and they figured they could do something before you were supposed to arrive."

"So, basically take advantage of the lack of adult supervision." He snorts in amusement.

"Pretty much, yeah. You and Lucifer are the two responsible ones. The rest of us give in to temptation far too easily." Lucifer does too, but Beel doesn't need to know that. The shenanigans his brother gets up to when he thinks no one is watching him aren't exactly pertinent to this conversation.

"Anyway, Satan suggested summoning a Hellfire Salamander in Lucifer's room, and I knew I wanted no part of it," Beel continues. "Those things make dragons look tame in comparison. If one set something of Lucifer's on fire..."

"You didn't want to be on the hook for it," I reply.

"Exactly. So, as everyone else ventured to his room, I decided to head towards the kitchen. I was feeling a bit peckish anyway, but also I knew I wouldn't get in nearly as much trouble if I got caught rummaging through the fridge."

"Makes sense."

"Unfortunately, right when I figured out something to eat, I heard this awful scream. Instead of summoning a Hellfire Salamander, they accidentally brought a banshee inside the House." Beel pauses. "That's what set me off the first time, when you found me in the colosseum. Diavolo had gifted Lucifer a record of a banshee's song, and he asked if he could have it played during dinner. Most people would only hear melodic wailing. I heard and felt its pain, and it overwhelmed me, especially since it reminded me of..." He trails off as he closes his eyes and begins taking deep breaths, tears threatening to spill.

There are two types of people that can hear a banshee scream: those about to die, and those close to individuals on the brink of death. If you remain alive afterwards, you're forced to listen to their every wail and shriek for the rest of your life. To say that it's unpleasant would be quite the understatement.

It doesn't explain how I can hear it, though. Perhaps getting Beel to talk about his experience will help me figure that out.

"Reminded you of what?" I gently prompt. Understandably, he takes a while to respond. For one, it must have been a pretty traumatic event if it's making Beel this upset, but also he and I aren't as close here as we are in my timeline. In fact, I think this is the most he's ever spoken to me since I've arrived.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me--"

"It's not that," Beel interrupts, opening his eyes again. "If anyone could understand, it's you, and I'm sure talking about it will help me feel a bit better. It's just...I haven't shared this before, not even to my brothers."

"I can keep a secret." He softly smiles.

"I know." Another deep breath, then,

"The first time I heard a banshee's cry was in the human world. Michael had sent me there to complete a task. I forget what it was, but at this point it really doesn't matter. All I know is that on my way back to the portal, the banshee began screaming. It scared me so much that I ran in the opposite direction of the portal and ended up getting lost, causing me to return to the Celestial Realm much later than I was supposed to. I wasn't even allowed to explain myself; both Michael and Raphael took turns reprimanding me. I think that might have been the last straw for Lucifer, because the next day marked the start of the war." Momentary silence.

"There should be eight of us down here, not seven," Beel quietly adds. "We lost our sister in the fray. She and Belphie were both in a precarious position, and I only had time to save one of them." A couple tears fall from his eyes.

"I know that by the time I heard the scream that it was too late to change her future, but there's a part of me that feels like I could have prevented her from dying. I miss her dearly. I can't even sleep some nights because the memory plays in my head over and over again, and I...I..." I hug Beel as he begins sobbing uncontrollably.

I wonder...

Of course. It makes sense. If Lilith's memory of her death rests somewhere in my subconscious, then it's possible that other memories of hers do, too.

Like one of a banshee's scream.

I'm sure that if I ask nicely enough, I can get Lucifer to destroy that record. If he wants to hear it that badly, I'm sure there's audio of it on the internet that he can listen to with headphones. But I don't want Beel to suffer unnecessarily, and I don't think Lucifer does, either.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me lucifer #obey me lilith #so this is actually the second time i'm typing this out #my laptop died the first time before i was able to save the draft #so i had to start from scratch

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marsplastic13 · 4 months ago

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'Complicated' (part 7) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 5.6k notes: I can't wait for your opinions on this one

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @luffysprincess

‘Kaz’

‘Baby’

‘Love’

‘What??’ he replied to the flood of messages.

‘AC is broken’

Kaz hesitated, staring at the screen, then he typed ‘Yes’

‘:)’

Half an hour later, y/n arrived at his house, looking visibly relieved. “Oh saints, I can breathe again,” she exclaimed, collapsing onto the couch. “It’s a centralized problem. The whole building is hot as hell.”

Kaz went back to type on his computer at the kitchen table, glancing up briefly. “Did they say how much time before it works again?”

“No,” she sighed, sinking further into the cushions. “I’m on forced leave from work.”

“You sound almost sad,” he chuckled, his eyes flickering back to the screen.

“I am. You have no idea of the interesting booking I had,” she said, turning to look at him. “Do you want to know what he asked for?”

“I think I’ll live better without knowing,” he replied, smirking.

“Boring.” y/n pulled out her phone and started watching TikToks, her occasional laughter punctuating the silence.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, both absorbed in their screens. The rhythmic tapping of Kaz's keyboard mixed with the occasional burst of sound from y/n's videos.

After some time, Kaz broke the silence. “I have to work after dinner.”

“You have the weirdest work schedule,” she commented, glancing up. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“We can order something,” he suggested, not looking up from his screen.

“I’ll cook.” y/n got up and opened his fridge, surveying its contents. “You know that you could eat something other than meat?” she said, studying the shelves.

“I think I have ice cream too,” he shrugged.

“So healthy,” she commented dryly, closing the fridge. “Is there a supermarket nearby?”

“Yep.”

“I’m going,” she announced.

Kaz stared at her, a small grin playing on his lips. y/n sighed, already knowing what he wanted. “It’s in my bag, take it.”

Kaz closed his laptop and settled onto the couch, pulling her Nintendo Switch from the bag. “Why don’t you just buy one?” she asked, not truly annoyed.

“Because I would develop an addiction. Speaking of, take the keys. I won’t get up to open the door even if you arrive with the police,” he replied, already engrossed in the game.

y/n muttered something about him being a child before taking his keys and heading out.

When she returned, y/n put on some music and started cooking, dancing around the kitchen between cupboards and stoves. Kaz occasionally shouted at the game, clearly immersed. The atmosphere in the apartment was light and relaxed.

“Have you been using my vape?” y/n asked, suddenly annoyed.

“No.”

“It’s empty.”

“Maybe it has a leak,” he suggested, not raising his eyes from the game. y/n cupped his face and turned it towards her, leaning in to smell his breath.

“You smell like cherries, you dirty liar. After all your venting about how smoking is bad?” y/n accused, her eyes narrowing playfully.

Kaz laughed, trying to maintain his focus on the screen. “Shut up, you’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting you?” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Who was it that went on a twenty-minute rant about how terrible smoking is for your lungs, your heart, your—"

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he interrupted, his fingers flying over the buttons.

“And here you are, sneaking hits off my vape,” y/n continued, her tone teasing, “you even put it back in my bag to hide your tracks, just give up and buy one.”

“No, smoking is bad,” Kaz replied firmly, though his eyes never left the screen.

y/n let out an exasperated sigh. “Unbelievable.”

y/n was done cooking and sighed as she saw Kaz completely engrossed in her game, sitting on the couch with no intention of moving. "Kaz, come on don’t be a child."

Kaz, eyes glued to the screen, mumbled, "Just one more level, I promise."

Rolling her eyes, y/n decided it was time for drastic measures. With a mischievous glint, she leaned over and swiftly snatched the console from his hands. “Hey!” he protested, reaching out to grab it back.

“Nope, you’ve had enough,” she declared, holding the console high above her head.

Kaz jumped up from the couch, trying to reclaim his—well, hers—gaming device. “Give it back, y/n! I was about to beat my high score.”

She laughed, stepping back and keeping the console out of his reach. “No.”

He lunged forward, and they began a playful tussle. y/n darted around the coffee table, and Kaz followed, both of them laughing. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he teased, reaching out to grab her waist.

She squealed, spinning out of his grasp and holding the console behind her back. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

Kaz paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Come on, my leg is already killing me today.”

“Then give up,” she laughed.

He feigned to the left, then quickly moved to the right, catching y/n by surprise. She tried to dodge, but he was quicker, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground.

“Put me down!” she laughed, kicking her feet in the air.

“I don’t care if I break my leg again, you’re giving it back,” he replied, twirling her around.

She clung to the device, laughing uncontrollably. “Okay, okay, you win!” she conceded, handing it over.

Kaz gently set her down, keeping a firm grip on the console. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She playfully swatted his arm. “You’re a child.”

He chuckled, slipping the console into his back pocket. “And you’re annoying.”

They stood there for a moment, both catching their breath and smiling at each other. y/n shook her head, still laughing. “I’m going to cancel your game’s data.”

“There’s no need to get violent,” he said, offended, while they headed to the table. Kaz’s mouth watered at the sight and smell of the food.

“You cook really well for someone who hates eating,” Kaz said with his mouth half full.

“Rude, but thank you,” y/n replied with a smile, her fork tracing patterns on her plate.

Kaz stared at her, his gaze lingering a bit too long.

y/n noticed and rolled her eyes. “Kaz, don’t look at me like that. If you say something about my relationship with food, I’m so going to remind you that you have a girlfriend and that I’m a prostitute.”

“We’re just eating,” he mumbled, trying to justify himself and feeling really guilty. He was still mad at Inej for postponing her visit, and he knew that he and y/n were playing with the boundaries that should exist in their relationship.

He tried to focus on his plate, but his thoughts kept drifting. Maybe in that moment, it could look like an innocent dinner, a friend helping out a friend even, but later? When they would inevitably share a bed, without any payment beforehand? Or when he would book her for another session?

Kaz's mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions. He knew he should feel loyal to Inej, but he was still frustrated that she wasn’t there, and y/n had a way of making everything seem so easy.

y/n seemed to sense his turmoil. She put her fork down and reached out, touching his hand lightly.

“Are you feeling bad?”

“Yes,” Kaz admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” y/n replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

He couldn't help but laugh, despite himself. “Fuck off.”

Kaz came back home later than he thought, plus, he took an unexpected punch in the eye that hurt like a bitch. He saw a dim light and soft talking coming from his room.

“Are you having fun on your trip?” he heard y/n's voice, but couldn't make out the answer. However, he heard her laugh.

Kaz peeked into his room, and y/n smiled at him, “It's my grandma,” she said, gesturing to the phone.

“Are you with a boy, sweetie?”

“I'm with a… friend,” she replied.

“Show him to me.”

“No,” she laughed.

“Is he ugly?”

“Grandma! No,” replied y/n, Kaz raised a brow, leaning on the doorframe, now very interested.

“Is he hot or is he cute?”

Kaz raised his brows even more, waiting for her answer.

“Don’t you have something to do? What happened to your face?” y/n narrowed her eyes to look better at him.

“Just a punch,” he shrugged before disappearing into the bathroom.

Kaz could still hear pieces of the conversation from her side. “No, Grandma, we're not sleeping together… My AC is broken… No, I didn't break it on purpose… Yes, he's cute… It's 4 am here!... Have a nice day, I love you.”

He took his spot in the bed as y/n put away her phone. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, my grandma is on one of those old-people-travels on the other side of the world and wanted to talk to me about her new crush. I was sleeping so well,” she said, leaning back into the pillows.

“Her new crush? How old is she?” he asked skeptically, taking the console she had left on his side.

“In her seventies. She’s a bit wild.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” he commented.

Kaz settled into the bed, gingerly touching his bruised eye. y/n was leaning against the headboard, her phone still warm from the call with her grandmother.

“Who punched you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she studied the bruise.

“An idiot,” Kaz replied, his voice laced with irritation.

“Hmm, he might have his reason. You're very punchable.” y/n’s lips curled into a teasing smile.

Kaz snorted, feeling a bit defensive. “It wasn’t my fault this time.” He rubbed his temples, the stress of the day catching up to him. The lingering ache from the unexpected punch added to his irritation.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him with her shoulder. “Sure, it wasn’t.”

“I’m sending you back to your house,” he said, his tone half-serious, as he stretched his legs out, trying to ease the tension that had settled in his muscles.

“I’m taking back my Switch,” she shot back, snatching the console from his side with a triumphant grin.

Kaz’s hand shot out in a playful attempt to reclaim it, but she was quicker, holding it out of his reach. “Go to sleep,” he said, exasperated but amused, his frustration easing into a faint smile as they bantered.

“Do you want a kiss to make the pain go away?” she said with a dangerous smile.

Kaz sighed, a mix of annoyance and fondness tugging at him. “Are you a healer now?”

“I can be a lot of things,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

“Stop flirting with me,” he replied, though the teasing glint in his eyes softened his words.

“Alright,” y/n turned on her side, settling into the playful rhythm of their exchanges.

Kaz battled with himself for a moment, then gave in to the pull he felt towards her. He pulled her closer, their bodies fitting comfortably together.

“Maybe it’s worth a try, it hurts really bad,” he muttered against her neck, his voice muffled.

“Kaz, are you whining?” she asked, laughter dancing in her tone as she turned to face him. Her eyes met his, a hint of mischief in their depths.

He huffed in mock indignation, a playful glint in his eyes. “I'm not whining,” he protested lightly, but the corners of his mouth betrayed a smirk.

The girl's gaze lingered on his waiting lips, a teasing smile playing on her own. With a deliberate slowness, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his temple. Kaz responded with an annoyed hum, his eyebrow quirking in response to her playful gesture.

“What? Were you expecting more?” she asked, raising a brow mischievously, her eyes flickering with amusement.

Kaz tilted his head, feigning contemplation. “I don’t know, maybe a little more sympathy?” he teased, his tone light despite the heaviness of their unspoken tension.

“Oh my poor baby, come here,” she playfully pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around him and messing with his hair.

He leaned into the contact, closing his eyes briefly and allowing himself a moment of comfort in her embrace.

“You’re so clingy, Kaz,” she commented after a while, her voice light with teasing. “Who knew you had it in you?”

“I’m not,” he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“And you’re also delusional,” she added playfully, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his back.

“Shut up,” he replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself.

“Are you this annoying with your girlfriend too?” she teased gently, the question hanging in the air.

“She’s not paid to spend time with me,” Kaz replied, his tone tinged with seriousness.

“I’m not working tonight,” she reminded him gently, her fingers stilling on his back, their closeness emphasizing the unspoken boundaries between them.

Kaz nodded silently, the weight of their complicated relationship settling over them once more. He knew their moments together existed in a fragile balance, a delicate dance between companionship and something more undefined.

Kaz hated how peaceful he felt, how badly he craved the normalcy of their interactions, the lightness. Every time Inej would come back, it was like they had to learn to adjust to each other again. And when they were finally comfortable, she would leave again. While he fell asleep, Jesper's words kept echoing through his mind: “You're playing house with a hooker.” He couldn't be more right.

He couldn't ignore the transactional nature of their relationship, the blurred boundaries that came with it. Yet, there was something genuine in the way she looked at him, in the way she laughed at his jokes, in the way she cared.

He couldn't deny that he was playing a dangerous game, one that could hurt everyone involved. But in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of them, it felt almost normal. It felt like he had someone who understood him.

As he finally drifted off to sleep, Kaz couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew he was betraying Inej. The emotional connection he was forming with y/n was real, and it scared him.

When Kaz woke up the next morning, y/n wasn't there. In the kitchen, he found breakfast ready and a note: “Didn't want to wake you, I have to go. Thanks again for yesterday.”

He went on with his day, wondering if the AC at y/n's house had been fixed or not. He knew he wasn't supposed to think about it, that he wasn't supposed to hope that she would write to him again. But at some point, he gave in.

‘How's the AC?’ he texted.

‘Still broken,’ she replied.

Kaz was unsure of what to do. Rationally, he knew that he shouldn't have even texted her.

‘Don’t worry, I'm staying with a friend,’ she sent, like she was reading his mind. He was a bit annoyed, more than he let himself admit.

‘Guess I'll find others Switch and vape,’ he replied, a bit unjustifiably bitter.

‘Ask your girlfriend,’ she retorted. Kaz sighed; he deserved it.

As he put his phone down, Kaz couldn't shake off the unease. He knew his connection with y/n was treading dangerous waters, but he also couldn't deny how much he enjoyed her presence, the effortless way she fit into his life. He leaned back, trying to focus on work, but his mind kept drifting back to y/n. He knew it was wrong, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something akin to happiness.

***

A few days later, Kaz was waiting for y/n to pick him up since she finally got her driving license back, thanks to one of her clients who pulled a few strings, and she wanted to show him her bright new Mini Cooper. She sent him a picture of her outside his house. Kaz was gathering his things when a series of messages got his focus.

‘SHE'S HERE.’

‘INEJ IS HERE.’

‘SHE'S ENTERING THE BUILDING.’

Kaz froze, looking out of the window, he saw the Mini make an illegal turn and speed away.

He was still paralyzed when Inej opened his door. “Surprise!” she said brightly.

“Nej! What are you doing here?” Kaz hoped he sounded happy, while the adrenaline of being almost caught made his heart race. He moved to hug her, unsure of how to seem natural. Since when was he so bad at concealing his thoughts?

Inej started talking about how he was right, that she had been unfair with him, but his mind was focused on how close she had been to seeing him getting into y/n’s car. Kaz had no idea what kind of excuse he could've come up with.

“Sorry, were you going somewhere?” Inej noticed how he was actually ready to leave.

“Just a work thing. Let me make a phone call and cancel,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kaz went to his room to call y/n, who answered from the speaker of the car with a series of curses. “That was so fucking close, I'm so sorry, love.”

“It’s not your fault, great timing by the way,” he said, his words leaving a bitterness in his mouth. He couldn't believe that his girlfriend was in the other room, and he was calling another girl to talk about how close they got to getting caught together. What kind of person was he becoming? Kaz leaned against the wall of his room, the phone still warm in his hand, and stared at the ceiling. The situation felt surreal, like he was watching someone else's life unravel. How had he ended up here?

“Shut up, my legs are still wobbly. Enjoy your evening and don't take her to that place with the rooftop pool; my boyfriend is taking me there.”

He snorted. “The old man?”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to annoy?” she laughed. “Get lost, Kaz. See you soon,” she said before ending the call. He stood there a second more, then typed ‘Be careful’ and hit send.

Kaz took a deep breath, steadying himself before rejoining Inej. He plastered on a smile, hoping it looked genuine. The weight of his deceit pressed heavily on him, and as Inej continued talking about her recent travels, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was spiraling into something he couldn't control.

“Why do you have vegan ice cream?” Inej asked, puzzled, as she rummaged through Kaz’s freezer.

Kaz’s heart skipped a beat. “Fuck,” he thought, the image of y/n flashing through his mind. He had completely forgotten about that.

“It was on sale,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though the slight hitch in his voice betrayed him.

Inej raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “You’re always saying that being vegan is stupid. Who are you, and what did you do to my boyfriend?” She laughed, stepping closer and pulling him into a light kiss.

“If she only knew,” Kaz thought, guilt gnawing at him.

***

Kaz and Inej fell into a comfortable routine, with Inej practically moving in with him. She only went to her house every few days, which should have felt like a step forward in their relationship. Yet, Kaz couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Despite his progress with his touch aversion, which he had always seen as a significant hurdle, Inej seemed uncomfortable with the changes. Every time they were in his car, he had to force himself not to touch her. This was something he had never imagined possible, because for him, it had become a habit to drive with his hand on y/n's thigh. But Inej kept shoving him away.

Of course, Kaz knew that Inej had her own issues with physical contact, stemming from her traumatic past. He understood that her boundaries were there for a reason, and he respected them. However, he couldn’t help but feel that his issues were more pressing on their relationship, more in need of resolution. He had worked so hard to overcome his aversion, thinking it would bring them closer. They had started holding hands and sharing the same bed, but Inej wasn’t as clingy as he discovered himself to be.

Doubts began to cloud Kaz's mind. Maybe if he hadn’t sought a quicker way to solve his problems, he would have been more at peace now. But would he, really? The ability to remain calm when someone accidentally brushed against him wasn’t exactly a bad thing. It was progress. But he wondered if he had pushed too much with y/n. Had he relied on her too heavily to guide him through his issues? He had just wanted to be the right person for Inej, but now he started feeling like he had gotten it all wrong.

He recalled the late-night conversations with y/n, the way she had encouraged him to face his fears, to push his limits. It felt good, liberating even. But now, with Inej beside him, those same actions felt like betrayals. Inej’s discomfort was palpable, and it made Kaz question everything. Was he really doing this for her, or was it for himself? Had his need to fix himself overshadowed the essence of their relationship? When exactly did he stop doing it for Inej and started doing it for himself?

Kaz’s mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. He had always believed that conquering his touch aversion would be the key to a more intimate, more fulfilling relationship with Inej. But now, with her subtle rejections, he felt more distant from her than ever. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to reassure her, but every touch seemed to push her further away.

As he lay in bed beside Inej, Kaz couldn’t help but think about how different things were with y/n. It was intoxicating, but it also made him feel guilty. He had sought out y/n to fix his problems, but now he realized that the solutions she offered might not be compatible with his life with Inej.

Kaz rolled over, staring at the ceiling. He needed to find a balance, a way to reconcile the progress he had made with his need to respect Inej’s boundaries. He had to stop doubting himself and start focusing on what truly mattered: being there for Inej in the way she needed, not the way he thought she needed. It was a daunting task, but Kaz knew it was the only way to salvage their relationship.

All of Kaz’s good ideas and resolve dissolved into a murky cloud of confusion as he found himself slipping out of bed and quietly getting into his car. The drive was eerily silent, matching the turmoil in his mind. He parked nearby and waited, feeling foolish with each passing minute. The neighborhood suddenly filled with the blare of loud music, and Kaz’s heart lurched as he saw y/n’s Mini Cooper turn the corner at an alarming speed, brakes squealing in protest. He watched, almost in disbelief, as she parked somewhat haphazardly, and she and her friends stumbled out of the car, leaning on each other for support. y/n lingered a moment longer than the others, retrieving something from under her seat.

Kaz approached quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “y/n,” he called out.

Startled, she turned, a frown creasing her features. “Are you drunk? You just got your license back,” Kaz blurted out, unable to stop himself.

y/n sighed, “I’m just a bit tipsy.”

“What happened to that light?” Kaz gestured towards the damaged light on her car.

“Why the fuck are you here, Kaz? Where’s your girlfriend?” Her annoyance was palpable.

Guilt flooded Kaz. “I… She’s sleeping. At my house.”

y/n raised her brows in surprise. “Kaz, why are you here?”

Avoiding her gaze, Kaz struggled to find an answer. He had no clear explanation for his impulsive decision. “She’s… She’s not you,” he finally admitted, the words heavy with admission.

y/n’s face hardened, her arms crossing defensively. “Yeah, are you here to remind me?”

“No, I—” Kaz faltered, unable to voice the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind for days.

“What?” y/n’s tone was sharp, demanding.

Taking a deep breath, Kaz finally gathered his courage. “I want you.”

y/n looked down, shaking her head slightly. “No, you don’t,” she replied coldly, her voice cutting through the night air. “y/n, let me explain—”

“Explain what?” She interrupted him, her tone laced with bitterness. “You don’t know me, Kaz. You want what we have when you pay for it, because I’m a whore and you’re my client.”

“That’s not true, y/n—”

“It is true,” she insisted, her voice hardening. “You don’t want me, trust me. Fuck, Kaz, I told you ages ago that if you were catching feelings for me we should’ve stopped.” She ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident.

Kaz felt anger building inside him, fueled by frustration and a sense of injustice. His words were sharp, a challenge to y/n, cutting through the air with an intensity that matched the turmoil in his heart.

“Oh yeah, because I’m the only one here who crossed boundaries, right? Look at me and tell me that you don’t feel anything.” Kaz’s voice held a mix of accusation and desperation. He locked eyes with y/n, searching for any sign of affirmation or denial, needing validation that what he felt wasn't one-sided.

y/n hesitated, her eyes clouding with a fleeting mixture of emotions—sadness, uncertainty, and something Kaz couldn't quite decipher. Her hesitation spoke volumes, a pause filled with unspoken truths and conflicted feelings.

Kaz held his ground, waiting for her response, hoping against hope that she would reveal what he yearned to hear. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of their complicated situation.

When y/n finally spoke, her voice carried a hint of vulnerability beneath its usual composure. "You don’t know me," she repeated, her words laced with a touch of sadness, less firm than before.

After y/n's words hung in the air, Kaz felt a knot tighten in his chest. Her raw honesty pierced through his defenses, forcing him to confront uncomfortable truths he had been avoiding.

“I want to know you,” Kaz insisted softly, his voice a whisper of vulnerability amidst the tension.

“No, you don’t! Let’s be serious, Kaz,” y/n's tone sharpened with frustration, her eyes holding a mix of defiance and pain. “We do this. We get together, we go on dates, how long before you ask me to leave my job?”

Her words hit Kaz like a blow to the gut. He knew she was right. The thought of y/n continuing her work while they pursued something deeper had always nagged at him, buried beneath his desire for closeness and intimacy. Yet, facing her accusation head-on made it all too real.

“How long before it makes you lose it and become like my ex-boyfriend, beating the shit out of me?” y/n’s voice quivered with the weight of her past, her fear palpable in the air between them.

Kaz's heart clenched at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, a reminder of the darkness y/n had escaped and the wounds she still carried. He couldn't bear the thought of causing her more pain, of becoming a source of anguish rather than solace.

He wanted to argue, to assure her that he was different, that he would never hurt her. But the truth lingered in the back of his mind, unspoken yet undeniable. Deep down, he knew y/n was right. He couldn't ignore the unease he felt about her profession, about the risks and compromises it entailed.

As y/n stood before him, her vulnerability laid bare, Kaz struggled to find the words to express the turmoil inside him. Admitting that he couldn’t accept her job felt like a betrayal of everything y/n represented—an independent spirit, unapologetically herself.

But he also couldn’t deny the growing ache in his chest, the longing to protect her from harm, even if it meant sacrificing the connection they shared. It was a choice he wasn’t ready to make, yet one that loomed over their fragile bond.

“I would never—” Kaz began, his voice tinged with hurt and frustration.

“He said that too,” y/n cut in sharply, her words a stark reminder of past betrayals and broken promises. Kaz winced, feeling the weight of her accusation like a punch to the gut. He wanted to protest, to defend himself against the comparison to her ex-boyfriend, but y/n’s pain was palpable, and he couldn’t deny its validity.

“y/n, let me just—” Kaz attempted to interject, but his words faltered as he struggled to find the right words to bridge the widening gap between them. His mind raced, grappling with the realization that his actions had inadvertently pushed y/n away, reinforcing her fears and insecurities.

In that charged moment, Kaz saw y/n not just as the confident and alluring woman he had grown close to, but also as someone who carried deep scars from a past he hadn’t fully understood. He had prided himself on being different, on offering her a haven from the shadows of her past, yet now he saw how fragile that sanctuary had become.

“y/n,” Kaz began again, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. “I never meant to—”

“Save it, Kaz,” y/n cut him off, her tone weary yet resolute. “You can’t change who you are any more than I can change who I am.”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing his hair gently. “Go back to your girlfriend, love. Or break up with her if you don’t want her anymore. It wouldn’t work between us.”

“Why do you think that?” Kaz whispered, his hands trembling slightly as they found their way to y/n’s waist, pulling her closer against him. His heart raced with a mixture of longing and fear, the weight of his words heavy on his tongue. He could feel y/n’s warmth against him, a tangible reminder of the connection they shared, yet he feared it might slip away forever.

“Tell me that you’re not happy with me,” Kaz continued softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “Tell me that it’s all a facade, all fake, and I’ll leave and never look for you again.”

His words hung in the air, a desperate plea wrapped in vulnerability. Kaz knew that admitting his feelings meant risking everything—his relationship with Inej, his self-image, and the fragile bond he had formed with y/n. Yet, in that moment, all he could think about was the uncertainty of their future and the ache of wanting something he might never have.

y/n’s eyes searched his face, her expression unreadable as she weighed his words. Kaz held his breath, waiting for her response, knowing that whatever came next would change everything.

“You can’t give me what I want,” she murmured sadly, a wistful smile on her lips. “I like my life, the freedom of it. I don’t want to change it. And you shouldn’t change yourself, not for Inej, but even more, not for me. You two are legends, Kaz. What you did for each other, all the fears you overcame for her, the—”

Kaz cut her off, unable to bear another moment of uncertainty. He pressed his lips firmly against hers, a desperate attempt to drown out the doubts and fears that threatened to consume him. y/n responded instantly, her hands sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer in a mix of longing and hesitation.

He guided her a few steps back, maneuvering until she was pressed between his body and her car. Their kiss deepened, a passionate exchange that spoke volumes without words. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist for Kaz. All that mattered was the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against his, and the undeniable pull between them.

For a heartbeat, everything felt right, like they belonged in each other's arms. But beneath the surface of their heated embrace, Kaz couldn't shake the weight of y/n's earlier words. He knew their connection was fraught with complications, tangled in emotions and circumstances that threatened to unravel any semblance of stability.

Yet, as he held her close, Kaz couldn't deny the intensity of what he felt. It was more than physical attraction; it was a yearning for understanding, for connection, for something deeper than he had ever allowed himself to explore before.

But as quickly as their passion ignited, y/n pulled back, leaving Kaz momentarily stunned and breathless. Her eyes searched his, a mix of sadness and resolve shining through.

“Go away,” she whispered, her voice tinged with sadness. “Go back to your girlfriend and forget about me.”

Kaz nodded slowly, as if emerging from a dream. “Don’t ever ask me again to be the better person,” she continued, her voice flat yet determined. “If I ever find you here again, I won’t stop you. I won’t hesitate. I will let you do whatever you want. And I won’t care. I’ll move on with my life. But you will regret it, trust me.”

Her words hung between them, stark and undeniable. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mix of guilt, regret, and a profound sense of loss. He had pushed too far, crossed boundaries he shouldn't have, and now he faced the consequences of his actions.

With a final nod, Kaz turned and walked back to his car, each step heavy with the weight of uncertainty and regret.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x fem!reader #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #soc #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker imagine

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lieslab · 1 year ago

Note

Okay request: (since you asked for some so I'll think and SEND IT INNNNN)

So imagine you have to get up super early and can't stay in bed to cuddle. So sleepy Felix shuffles around with you and basically lays on top of you while you make breakfast and you try to convince him to just go back to bed, you'd cuddle when you get home but "I won't survive without for that long, need to get some cuddlezz nowwww" in his raspy sleepy voice so you pet his hair and give him a kiss on his forehead and let him do his thing.

And when you leave you tuck him in and seal it with a sweet lil kissie🥰

GODD I had to get up early today and I feel so cold and cuddle depriveded so totally not taken from real life.....

Anyways hope you liked the idea, take it or throw it away, don't write it (obviously) if you don't wanna, have a great day, don't forget to drink some waterrrrrr aaaaand

Goodbye😘

Omg thank you for this!! This is great because the next two drabbles I have planned are angsty and this is a nice break from that. This is sooo cute and I'm so sorry you had to wake up like that 😔 I hope this can make you feel a tad bit better <3

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Cuddle bug

Summary: You have to get up early on a Saturday morning for work, but Felix refuses to let you leave in peace.

Pairing: Felix x gn reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5K

_ _ _

You were used to your morning routine. You did this multiple times before. The moment your alarm clock began to ring, you quickly sat up to silence it. You slowly crept out of the bed you shared with your boyfriend.

The moment your feet hit the ground, you headed to your dresser, grabbed clean clothes to change into, and snuck into the bathroom. You were lucky Felix was a heavy sleeper. He didn’t wake up when your alarm clock went off.

When you were in the bathroom trying to do your morning routine as quietly as possible, he never stirred. You shimmied out of your pajamas and into a fresh pair of clean clothes. You combed out the rat’s nest you called hair and slipped out of the bathroom.

You grabbed everything you needed and were about to sneak out to the kitchen when the sound of a deep sleepy voice stopped you. “What are you doing?”

You spun around to see your boyfriend sitting up in the shared bed. His eyes were half open as the first morning streaks of yellow sunlight filtered in through your curtains. His blonde hair stuck out in every direction in a spiked halo. Your shared comforter had found a home around his neck and he wrapped it around his body tightly.

A chuckle fell from you as the freckled boy waited for your response. “I have work this morning.”

“Work?” His eyes suddenly shot wide open. “But, but, but,” he sputtered trying to get the words out. “But it’s Saturday! Saturdays are strictly for us!”

Guilt swept over you, but you pushed it down. “I know and I’m sorry. I’ll have to make it up to you when I get home.”

“Tell your boss you’re sick.”

“Baby, you know I can’t do that.”

He groaned and flung himself backwards in the bed. His head hit the pillow with a soft thwat. It was hard to keep the smile off your face at his childish behavior. His lips stuck out in a pout as he hmmph’d.

“Do you want breakfast while you’re up?” You asked.

“No! I want you to come back into our bed and keep me warm!” He grumbled beneath his breath and you managed to pick up something along the lines of large corporations being shitty.

“Alright, I’ll make you some food and put it in the fridge for later.” You let him deal with his pity party on his own.

Once you were gone, he groaned again and rolled over to wiggle out of the bed. He huffed, stood up, and followed you to the kitchen. You turned around at the sound of footsteps behind you and burst into laughter.

Felix looked annoyed and tired. He shot you a sleepy glare, “it’s not funny.”

You weren’t laughing at the situation, you were laughing at him. He yanked the royal blue comforter over his head and wrapped it around himself. It clung around his body and nearly engulfed him whole. He looked like a child in an oversized winter coat.

“It’s not funny,” you agreed and you forced yourself to stop laughing. “I’m sure you’re still tired, why don’t you go back to bed?”

“I can’t leave you alone on our reserved day. I’ll already be alone while you’re at work.”

“I promise we’ll have the whole evening together and you’re still tired. You’ve been through a lot this week and you need the ext-”

“No!”

You stumbled forward a bit as he walked around you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He snuggled his face into the middle of your back and let out a sigh of relief. Another smile appeared on your face.

“I’m not letting you go.”

“But I need to make breakfast,” you objected.

“So? I’m not stopping you.”

“But you should g-”

“No.”

“You really need t-”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Felix please, we can cuddle later,” you tried again.

“You want me to go that long without your cuddles? You’re practically asking me to just die. I can’t wait that long!” His voice came out whiny. “How am I going to survive until then?”

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally gave up, “but I’m going to start walking around. If you end up hitting the floor, it’ll be your own fault.”

“I’m not gonna hit the floor.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Felix’s arms wrapped around you tighter as you made your way to the fridge. You hummed beneath your breath while pulling out the ingredients to make breakfast burritos. Since he was up against you, he could hear every breath you took.

The warmth of your body pressed against his cheek sent a flood of happiness through him. Everything was going okay until you needed to get a pan out of the bottom cupboard. You didn’t want to risk bending down and falling with him on top of you.

“Alright, babe, you’ve gotta get off for a moment. I need to get a pan and I don’t want us to fall.” You gently patted one of his arms around your waist.

He let out a groan, but soon obliged. Once he let go, you retrieved a pan and stood back up. You glanced over to see him still swaddled up in the comforter. He could barely keep his eyes open. The sight tugged at your heartstrings.

He could have been sleeping in the comfort of the bed, but he wanted to be around you so much, he forced himself to get up and follow you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t secretly thrilled. You knew Felix loved skinship, but you hadn’t realized he was attached to you this much.

You reached up and ruffled a hand through his hair. His eyes opened a little wider. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. The small action caused his cheeks to fade into a soft pink beneath his freckles.

You turned back to the stove with your pan. “Alright, you can go back to hanging onto me now.”

After receiving the okay, Felix quickly reattached himself to your back. You went back to humming one of your favorite songs. Felix was drifting between the land of unconsciousness and reality.

You washed and chopped potatoes. Throwing them into a skillet with a splash of oil, you let them begin to cook while you cooked bits of diced bacon in another skillet. When the bacon finished cooking, you cracked a few eggs into the same pan and let the eggs cook with the help of bacon grease.

Felix let you work your magic in silence. Behind you, he drifted further and further to sleep. He was comfortable and you knew it. You felt his weight press into your body more and more.

At one point, you felt him stumble as he tried to regain his footing. While breakfast cooked, you moved away from the hot stove and pulled his arms off of you. He mumbled something, but the words were too slurred, so you couldn’t hear it.

“Come on, baby,” you cooed at him. You grabbed his arms and led him back towards your bed. “The bed is waiting for you and you’re practically asleep on your feet.”

“Am not,” Felix mumbled.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open and his limbs felt heavier than normal. You made sure he avoided obstacles and led him to the bed. You pulled the blankets down and helped get back in the bed. Once he was there, you took your time tucking him in.

“Gimme a kiss.” He kept his eyes closed and puckered his lips.

You suppressed your chuckle and bent down to kiss him. It was rather quick, so when you pulled away he whined. “I want a real kiss!”

“That was a real kiss,” you insisted.

“Is your love for me fake?”

Your eyes widened with surprise. “Of course not! Why would I-”

“Then kiss me like you mean it!”

You bent down and pressed your lips against his again. When you finished, you pulled away and began planting kisses along the tops of his cheeks. A grin lit up his face as he laughed. You left no part of his face untouched.

You kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and his chin. You ended your spectacle with a kiss to his nose before your lips met his again. You kissed him with a big fat slobbery “mwah!” and pulled away.

“Was that good enough?” You asked.

“I guess it’ll do.”

“What more do you want?”

“Stay home with me?”

“I promise I’m all yours this evening, alright?”

“Oh, alright.” His mouth opened in a wide yawn. He snuggled further into the comforter around him.

You watched him for a few seconds before you spoke up. “I’ll leave your food in the fridge okay? I’m sorry I have to leave, but if I don’t go in, they’ll write me up.” You continued apologizing until you were cut off with a soft snore.

Your heart fluttered when you realized Felix finally fell back to sleep. You leaned forward, brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead, and bent down to press a final kiss to the middle of his forehead. “Sleep tight, baby, I’ll see you later.” You pulled away and stood back up.

Before you left the room, you pulled out your phone to text him a reminder that his food was in the fridge and you went back to the kitchen to eat your breakfast.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #lee felix #stray kids felix #felix x reader #skz felix #skz fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fluff #felix fluff #kpop fanfic #stay #fanfic writing

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mylevisdontfitanymore · 3 months ago

Note

In that case, maybe this is a premise that isn't too complex and gives you more to work with but is still fun and interesting: either Bucky or Steve, for some reason one of them begins to sleep walk into the kitchen and stuff himself, ending up still being full in the morning and not knowing why, and instead of waking him up or trying to stop him or babysitting, the other makes him protein and weight gain shakes with butter and whole cream milk and ice cream and cake mix and acts surprised when they start putting on weight

this case

I think you'd be into this, Bucky kind of sleep walks/kind of has dreams about food and gains that way

I love that idea, though. Sleep walking to gorge yourself is so underrated! I haven't seen much of it, and I certainly could stand to see more 🫣

We'll go with Bucky being the one stuffing himself in his sleep with Steve's encouragement just because I'm in the chubby Bucky mood today and because

Warnings for unbeta'd stucky belly kink under the cut, stuffing/weight gain, tight clothes, weight gain denial/excuses lol, etc.

The thing is, Steve's a morning person. He likes to get up and see the sun rise over the tall Brooklyn buildings as he weaves in and out of them on his run. The sky turns such pretty colors, and it's endearing to watch his city wake up despite its claim - as part of NYC - of never sleeping.

So, it makes sense that Steve is in charge of breakfast - he's already been up for hours. He slipped out of bed while Bucky snoozed for a while longer, he sprinted through his run, and he showered all before Bucky rises to see the day. So, he might as well start on breakfast, too. Bucky won't be functioning enough to be trusted with hot pans and sharp implements for a few hours just yet. And this way, he can get up to the smell of food. It's nice for him.

Steve is all about the niceties in relationships and he would do anything for Bucky, but, he does find it easiest to just double what he makes for himself in the mornings. It can't hurt to make twice as many protein pancakes, salty sausages, protein shakes, fluffy eggs, and yogurt parfaits as he would for himself, right? It totally doesn't matter that Bucky stopped working out cold turkey after they both retired. He still has his enhanced metabolism. It just won't matter. He'll plow through the heavy calories anyway 'cause he's got to feed his hungry body.

And he does, at first, plow through. His body doesn't change noticeably. Neither does Steve's, for that matter - Steve is still working out, though. It's not until Steve starts being jostled awake in the middle of the night a few months after they officially retire, settling into a new routine that things begin to get weird...

That's all it is in the beginning, not too weird - Steve's body rising from REM to a light slumber every few nights in the middle of the night - but a little weird nonetheless.

When he half-wakes, he assumes Bucky's getting up to pee, so he drifts right back to sleep. Then, when Bucky's weight makes the mattress beneath Steve dip again, there's no telling how long it's been. Steve went right back to sleep! It couldn't have been that long, though.

...He didn't pass out while Bucky wandered slowly into the kitchen to mindlessly, unconsciously shuffle around until he found the fridge, opened it, and stuffed his face for close to an hour before his body finally forced him to stop. His sleeping body steering him back from the decimated refrigerator all because his stomach was so stretched it started aching like it might split open.

His dreams finally echoing the sensations of reality. Images in his mind of becoming a floating balloon, barely holding onto its string, about to fly away or about to burst after one too many bursts of air when being blown up. Or, dreams of becoming a bowling ball lumbering down the lane, about to hit a pin, and anticipating the satisfying collision - that heavy crack of his round body against it.

That would be super weird if that was happening!

That's not happening.

Steve is just a light sleeper, and Bucky's living up to his age. He's becoming an old, retired man who has to get up in the middle of the night to pee. That's all. (And it's kinda funny and very endearing.)

That's not all...

It gets weirder. Not too much weirder because they're both enhanced super soldiers with appropriately super metabolisms, so, sure, food starts to go missing around the house, but whatever, that's fine. They have friends over sometimes. Plus, they both eat a metric fuck ton of food. It makes sense that things go quickly - occasionally, even, seemingly overnight.

What's weirder than mildly strange food-whereabouts-mysteries are the clothing mishaps that begin to show up.

Bucky does most of the laundry now that Steve's picked up almost all of the cooking, and he swears he hasn't fucked with it so... why don't any of his clothes fit like they should anymore?! And it's only his clothes! Bucky washes their clothes together, so there's literally no excuse for just his to grow tighter and tighter.

Maybe his clothes are just envious of Steve's? Steve's are tight enough as is - really, they couldn't get tighter if they tried.

So, Bucky's clothes could just be catching up?

Or maybe he's mistakenly putting on Steve's shirts sometimes, and that's why his tummy starts hanging out of the bottom? A sliver of skin between his grabby waistbands (that are sitting too low these days) and his clingy shirts. Every time he raises his arms, his tummy is exposed. He wakes up in the morning, and his shirt has rolled all the way up to his pecs. He showers after breakfast and he struggles to jump and shimmy into his jeans. But then the day ends, and it's even harder to get out of his jeans. His sweatpants aren't much better. There's something wrong with that damn washer or the dryer.

Steve and Bucky have two different people come over and look at it and neither one of the technicians can find something wrong with it. Bucky knows the truth, though. And he starts to wonder if it's cheaper to replace the whole washer/dryer unit or give in to the evil machine's wims and purchase a new wardrobe.

Weirder than haunting machines with ulterior motives that will not obey their masters, leaving Bucky without anything to wear, are the sounds that start happening at night. Steve is a light sleeper, but he also finds it easy to fall asleep again - perks of being a soldier (one of the only). So, Steve wakes up enough to hear whatever the shit that is from other parts of their apartment, but then he falls right back asleep before he can get up to investigate. He's retired Captain America - he has a damn good security system, and someone would have to be a little more than stupid to think he won't be able to defend himself and his hubby even half-asleep and delirious. They're fine. He can relax and sleep.

Those noises, though, they're weird -

Little scuffles like feet skimming across the floorboards or drawers opening and closing.

Groans that might be the floorboards creaking (Steve's pretty sure the floor doesn't creak here, but both Bucky and him are pretty light on their feet usually), or they might be someone making that noise. Groaning.

Smacking sounds like someone chewing with their mouth open, lips wet, accompanied, of course, by chewing.

Whimpers when Steve finds himself waking up, especially late at night. That's definitely a person, maybe even a person hurting? A person really, uh, not hurting? 😳

The alarms never go off, though. Maybe they have mice? Steve doesn't see any droppings or other evidence of little critters, but that has to be it. It's the only explanation. That, or the apartment building is just settling - creaking and groaning in the night. Maybe the tenants above them are night owls? Maybe they're graveyard shift workers, if it is the person/people above them? And that’s why those noises are happening? It could be a ton of different things. It doesn’t have to be anything at all, Steve is no stranger to nightmares and those sounds could just be spillover from those. Stranger things have happened.

The weirdest yet is the new complaints Bucky develops as a retired superhero - a “normal” civilian.

First, he starts to complain here and there about feeling unrested despite not dealing with nightmares anywhere near the level he used to. He maybe has one a week, maybe one every other or even going two, nearly three weeks without. So, it’s not that. He seemingly sleeps fine, he only has those intermissions at night that seem, to Steve, very short-lived. Yet, still, he ends up napping during the late afternoon often. (Another retired, old man habit that Steve manages to find very endearing.)

Second, he starts to complain about feeling kinda… weird. Bloated, maybe? He’s a super soldier and has been for many, many years. He’s forgotten what tummy aches feel like and what it’s like for his body not to agree with something as trivial as food. But… his belly keeps gurgling. Like, all the fucking time. And it hurts sometimes, too. It depends on the day, though. Sometimes, his tummy hurts when he wakes up in the morning, gurgling and groaning, apparently desperate for food despite how bloated he looks. Sometimes, his tummy hurts in the evening, though. He eats like normal - big meals and big snacks and absent-minded bored nibbles from the fridge - but then suddenly his body feels kinda funky. Bloated or gassy. Achy or grumbling.

His tummy is just being strange!

Could he possibly be developing a food intolerance even with the serum? He's supposed to be perfect! Ugh. Why does it have to happen to him?

Bucky pouts enough - and his tummy rumbles up enough sound to keep fill Steve’s ears - that Steve makes up his mind to camp out one night. Really, the inciting incident is not one of Bucky’s belly aches with his stomach making itself known not only by pressing itself out of his too-tight shirt but also by growling loud enough to overpower the movie playing on their TV set that evening despite Bucky’s attempt to fill his bottomless appetite with a multi-course dinner and several helpings of dessert. The incident revolves around the creme pie Natasha brought them from a different night than one of Bucky’s more and more common belly aches.

The creme pie was special, something improbably smooth and light but still satisfying. Some Russian kind of pie that only Nat knows where to get and will bring back from her longer missions. Both Steve and Bucky eagerly were looking forward to having a slice, but…

It disappeared overnight.

And, okay, they both really have no idea what happened to it (even the pie tin is gone!) but Bucky’s clothes were looking especially small and Steve had the sudden remembrance of Bucky as a chubby-faced kid with hand-me-down clothes he was outgrowing already, standing in his kitchen absently, having wandered out of bed during one of their million sleepovers. Steve had to hold his hand to take him back to bed. That was the first time their fingers ever interlaced. So, it only happened a handful of times when they were really tiny kids, but Bucky has sleepwalked before.

Now, maybe he’s started again?

Steve needs to know, so, he stays up one night, pretending to be so engrossed in his book that he just can’t put it down. Bucky drifts off after a long while and stays asleep for an even longer while than how long it takes for him to fall asleep in the first place. Just as Steve is beginning to think it’s hopeless and nothing is going to happen, his imagination has clearly been playing tricks on him and it’s just his nightmares being projected into the real world, Bucky wakes.

Or does he?

His breathing doesn’t change. He just sits up suddenly without acknowledging that Steve is still up reading when, normally, if he actually woke up and found Steve still awake, he’d pout and whine and make grabby hands to be cuddled, simpering until he came to bed. He doesn’t do that, though. Steve holds his breath, not wanting to disturb this sleepwalk. He’s too curious to know where this will end up - better than any book he could bury himself in.

Bucky doesn’t stop at sitting up - he gets up out of bed and starts down the hall. After enough time, Steve slips out of their bed, too, trailing far enough after him to not wake him but close enough to see what he’s up to.

Steve is somehow both shocked and not at all shocked when Bucky wanders into their kitchen - he’s not even fumbling, his sleeping body knows the path too well, he’s done this a lot and it’s obvious.

Obvious in how his hands are certain as they pull open the fridge and find the drawer he wants for cheese and meat, unwrapping Babybel circles of cheese and stuffing them into his mouth and tearing open a package of pepperoni and swallowing handfuls; obvious in how he eats and eats and eats, more than just a heavy snack of cheese and meat, pushing through without stopping to worry about how his stomach starts to distend, growing bigger and rounder and fuller; obvious in how his clothes fit with the waistband of his sleep pants get crushed underneath his big tummy, curving into a smile, struggling to accommodate his fluffier hips and fuller belly, and how his supposed-to-be loose sleep shirt isn’t, it clings to him so much that Steve can see the entire half of his tight and tighter belly along with the shadow of his belly button through the fabric even in the low light, illuminated just by the fridge.

It’s obvious. This is happening a lot.

There’s nothing weird going on but this. The shifting at night? There’s an easy answer to that. It’s Bucky getting up to go and feast. All of the missing foods? They’re sitting in Bucky’s big, getting bigger belly. Clothes that don’t fit like they should? Bucky’s not doing anything to the laundry and it isn’t the machine's fault as they thought (they owe the washer and dryer an apology), Bucky’s just outgrowing them - eating himself out of his wardrobe. The sounds at night? Not mice. Mice aren’t heavy enough to make those sounds anyway. Bucky certainly is heavy enough, though. Especially these days if he’s always eating like that. Asleep, messy, and unashamed as he stuffs everything within reach into his gob, swallowing it down until Steve can see his pulse throb in his drum-taut, shiny gut where it hangs out of his shirt. The unrested feeling? Bucky isn’t resting as much as he should. He’s working. Just look at all that sweat as he keeps bulldozing through calories instead of sleeping peacefully. His body is fighting to keep sleeping right now, not drifting happily through dreamland. The upset belly? Yeah. No shit. It just can’t handle all this food. His stomach isn’t groaning and gurgling in hunger, it’s desperately trying to push through all the food he shoves into it.

Oh.

And there’s something about all of the weirdness that is so weird it’s tripped and fallen into arousal stirring within Steve. It’s, just… interesting.

He looks different, retired, and it’s a good look. Happier, shinier, and chubbier, soon-to-be fatter.

It’s so interesting and new, capturing Steve’s attention so intensely, that the next morning (sleeping only a few hours between waiting for something to happen and then watching it happen) Steve springs out of bed earlier than usual. He doesn’t spend the extra time going for an extra long run, though. He spends it cooking.

After his conscious’s unintentional feast last night - his unconscious’s intentional feast - Steve is really fucking curious to see how much Bucky will be able to fit inside himself. Now, Steve knows his tummy is complaining of being too full, not too empty, but he still wants to see it fuller. Overflowing. He wants to gauge Bucky’s capacity and then push to exceed it. Just to see. It has nothing to do with the dreams he had last night of even softer, more plush flesh that overwhelms Bucky’s frame and leaves him looking so round and big. Plump like a cherub - a nice belly, thick limbs all the way down to wrists and ankles with rolls, and, of course, including pretty rosy cheeks.

Steve whips up a storm, cooking and baking himself, and ordering food straight to their door.

Everything he can think of. Anything Bucky might want. He needs a buffet because if he’s eating the same thing, he’ll get tired of all the same flavor, he needs variety to keep going when he’s awake and can mostly taste what he’s eating - if Steve’s lucky, Bucky will scarf down the food so fast he won’t be able to taste it, all that will happen is puffing that big belly out even more. Leaving him soooo bloated.

And pretty soon Steve has bagels and cream cheese, pop tarts, oatmeal, pancakes, eggs scrambled and boiled and sunny side up, protein shakes, buttered toast, yogurt, fruit, waffles, oh, also chicken and waffles, sausage, muffins, hashbrowns, scones, biscuits and gravy, cereal and whole milk, cinnamon rolls with enough thick and sugary frosting to make Steve’s teeth hurt just looking at them, smoothies, and more.

Bucky is so sweet yet grumpy in the morning, half-awake and bleary-eyed, that he does not question why their dining table and countertops are covered with food. He simply accepts Steve at face value when he says Bucky’s belly started wailing before Steve even woke up, so he figured he’d be hungry and should make a “little bit” bigger breakfast than normal.

Bucky plops heavily down into his favorite dining table chair and starts work.

He steamrolls through the food, carving a path through the overladen table, leaving nothing but scraped clean plates, a few chicken bones, egg shells, and empty cream cheese containers in his wake.

He starts strong but after a while, Steve standing there in a stupor watching his every move, Bucky begins to struggle. He pants quietly at first but his breathing grows heavier and heavier just like his tummy that looks poised to burst out of his sleep pants and shirt. The seams are straining, little holes appearing at the sides of his shirt. He’s so round and overdue looking that Steve can see the bottom of his belly - and, wait, when did his gut get big enough that there’s a bottom to his tummy?

He’s so round and overdue looking that Steve can see the bottom of his belly where all his stretch marks have found a home - double wait, though, when did he get stretch marks? And is that his sleepless delirium talking or are they getting bigger and redder right now? Just from eating so much in one sitting? They look… hot.

Steve’s getting hot just staring at them, clawed into his belly where he should be soft but he’s all tight like this. All that food churning inside him, just barely contained by his stressed skin, a big, heavy pile of calories trying to be worked into more fat to cover up just how full his stomach is with soft layers of belly fat but… Bucky’s making his body work for it.

He’s not just panting now, he’s groaning and sweating, too. He’s having a hard time but isn’t questioning. He’s just doing.

Surely he knows what he’s doing, right?

“Uh,” Steve steps toward the table, “Buck?”

Bucky looks up from his single-minded focus on eating. Consume. More. Gorge. Swallow everything in sight.

His eyes are totally glassy. At first, Steve thinks he looks poised to cry like he’s pushed himself so far that it hurts, and that might be the case, but, really, it’s that same glassy, fucked-out look he gets when Steve’s shoving something else inside him. Usually, the other end but, oof, also sometimes shoving things into his mouth. Steve has an absurd thought of ordering a pack of Twinkies just to have the same shape. He has to cut himself off before he completely loses his train of thought and nerve.

Rushing, totally embarrassed, Steve explains what he did last night and, thus, explains what’s happening to Bucky’s clothes and body to a mostly out-of-it Bucky. He’s food-drunk but he can still think, in short bursts, between gulps of coffee so sugary and creamy it may as well be a milkshake.

His slow thinking is evident as he says, “well, what we should do? I don’t wanna, like, be locked in the bedroom so I can’t get out at night, that’s…”

Steve shudders, yeah, that’s way, way too controlling for him to be comfortable with. He doesn’t want to be anything like the terrors of Bucky’s past. He doesn’t want to lock him in their bedroom. He doesn’t want to chain him to bed, either.

But…

"What do you mean? Do?" Steve blurts.

"Well,” Bucky looks down at himself, specifically at his middle, pushing hard up against the edge of the table and the arms of his chair. A blush suddenly covers his sweaty face, “I'm gonna get fat, Steve! We gotta do something,” Bucky accuses himself through a mouthful of food. Steve’s a sorry bastard, though, ‘cause it should be disgusting, but it isn’t. His dick goes zing! like it’s taken to doing every time Bucky eats or comments on his tummy feeling funny or his clothes not fitting. He swallows, and Steve feels disappointed. Now he’s the weird one. Wonderful. “...fatter,” Bucky adds in a mumble. For someone who’s so concerned about getting bigger, he’s sure doing a good job going that way, stuffing more into his mouth. He has hardly slowed down.

So, Steve lets himself be bold, "and?"

"I-" Bucky sputters, surprised.

"You don't think I like you like this, Buck?” Steve reaches out, putting a few fingers under his puffy little chin, almost a double already. He wants to look at him. Those doe eyes and soon-to-be dough face and body… if he keeps going like this he’ll get there. Nice and plump and soft as over-proofed dough. The thought leaves Steve to lick his lips, his voice going low and rough, “you look fat, yeah, but you're hot as fuck. Look at you,” Bucky’s eyes flash down, but Steve won’t let go of his chin, squishing that bit of fat there to see him blush darker, “look at how nice and plump you are. You look well taken care of. Retirement is a good look, sweetheart."

Bucky makes a sound that’s scandalized.

“I don’t mind buying more food or clothes to keep you fed.”

“Oh?” Bucky’s breathing is back to that heavy panting, but now, it’s caused by arousal, not being overloaded on food, and still going.

“Of course, not. I’ll even buy another fridge if you want, one just for your midnight appetite if need be.”

They both shiver at that, the idea of Bucky’s belly growing so big and demanding that he can empty an entire fridge into it at night, then get up in the morning and eat more. More, more, more. How fat can he get? How can Steve push his waking and sleeping appetite? How soft, how out of shape, how retired can he look? They both want to know.

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #tight clothes #bucky barnes #steve rogers #chubby bucky #stucky

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cumulo-stratus · 1 year ago

Text

“You Do This Everyday?”

Pairing: Spencer reid x Male! Youtuber! Reader

Description: y/n has a pretty popular cooking channel and one day after y/n doesnt edit out spencer givving y/n a kiss when he gets home the fans go crazy wanting a video where you bake together so you make a vid answering questions while making a fall recipe

Warnings: possible swearing, fluff, spencer being a clueless little pookie <3

Flufftober day 12: cooking together

A/N: I saw a fic with he idea of spencer x youtuber reader and i loved it so here we are. i think this idea is so cute and has so much potential so i hope i do it justice <3 Enjoy!

The last of the afternoon light streamed through the windows of Y/n and spencers kitchen, and theirs laughs rang out loudly through the otherwise quiet apartment. Y/n had put his weight on spencer- his face stuffed into his spencers chest trying to muffle his laugh. When the laughing finally died down to giggles y/n lifted his face and said

“spence- spencer we need to redo the intro!”

“But we’ve done it 2 times already!”

“yes- and well do it a third and a fourth if you dont stop laughing whenever i start talking!”

The loving bickering was only that- bickering. Spencer didnt mind doing another take, and another one, if it meant he got to see y/n laugh again he would do it 10 times. His attention was pulled back to reality by his boyfriend counting down, starting again.

“3, 2, 1, rolling. Hello ladies, gentlemen, and rats under chef hats, i welcome back to my channel- I hope your having a funky fun day becasue in todays video im going to be making minestrone soup- but with a twist! i read your comments- ive seen the requests, so today my lovely and beautiful and handsome boyfriend will be joining us!”

Y/n motioned for spencer to come into frame and he shuffled in while his boyfriend did jazz hands around him for special effects. spencer giggled at his boyfriends antics while he introduced him.

“everybody this is spencer- hes my boyfriend, and today he’s gonna help me make soup. And yes we will eat it for dinner afterwards!”

Y/n trailed off and stayed silent for a couple seconds for editing later before giving spencer a kiss on the lips- silently thanking him for participating in the video.

“okay- now i need to start with the veggies- can you grab them out the fridge please?”

“of course m’lord!” spencer used a joking tone as he pulled all the bags labeled “for soup” and dropped them unceremoniously on the counter, eliciting a chuckle from y/n. After taking the vegetables out of their bags and setting them back on the counter, y/n went back and started the camera. Spencer giggled as y/n began to speak.

"Okay so we're gonna start by cutting our veggies- but, and especially because my boyfriend over here is a bit of a germaphobe, we're gonna wash them first, thoroughly.”

spencer chuckled at this while his boyfriend poured the veggies into a veggie spinner that he had gotten him for christmas. After washing he brought them back to the island infront of the camera and said “Just like that- poof! clean veggies” (definitely thinking of the audio and just like that- poof! lola’s gone. wrong- im right here you fucking brusell sprout!)

Spencer looked at y/n confused and asked "wait but- why'd you say poof? You washed them right here?!"

Y/n started giggling and took Spencer's hands in his and said "Spence- lovey I washed them off camera and then I'm gonna edit it to look like they poofed clean" spencer looked down for a moment before looking back up causing y/n to burst out laughing as he said “oh. i gués that makes sense, sorry..” and gave y/n a peck on the lips. Y/n pulled out the knife block and set it on the counter, starting the camera.

“Okay so im gonna have spence prep my veggies and then I’ll cut them into peices about the size of my thumbnail, or a little bigger.” spencer nodded, understanding his job and started by peeling a carrot. not five minutes in of him cutting and peeling, and of course while you were filming a quick shot of you guys cutting the vegetables- did he cut his finger! y/n wa focused on dicing the onion when he heard a loud yelp from his boyfriend next to him. His headshot up looking at his boyfriend, concerned.

"What's wrong love?"

"I cut my finger" Spencer had the most doe eyed, helpless look on his face as he held up his finger, which was now streaming blood. Y/ns eyes knitted in concern for his boyfriend and he walked over, dabbing the blood with a dish rag.

"Oh my poor baby- here lemme help you."

Y/n left a small peck on his boyfriend's hand, leading him over to the sink to wash it off. Spencer just pouted as the cool water splashed over his finger. Y/n chuckles before getting a bandaid from the first-aid kit in the kitchen, and gently placing it on Spencer's newly cleaned finger.

After cleaning up the blood, and confiscating Spencer's knife and peeler.

The couple then took a couple minutes to regroup, and finish the vegetables, before filming the rest of the video.

While y/n put away his camera and turned down the burner under the freshly made soup, Spencer flopped down onto the couch sighing and said "you do this everyday?" Y/n chuckled at this and to flopped down on top of Spencer, giving him a kiss on the cheek and saying "yup- and I still have to edit out all the clips of you just laughing" y/ns tone was teasing while Spencer's became defensive as he spoke in his defense, "hey- I don't do it for a living, you do! You know I'm a terrible cook y/n.. speaking of I think I deserve another kiss for that cut I got on my hand earlier.." Spencer trailed with a smirk. His boyfriend sighed in fake resignation and leaned for a kiss, holding back a laugh as their lips met.

The End

#spencer reid #criminal minds #bau #bau team #fluff #cute #gay #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #Spencer reid x YouTuber!reader #flufftober #Flufftober 2023 #flufftober day 12 #flufftober prompt #Spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid imagine

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the-wize-1 · 3 months ago

Text

Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 7 - School

Chapter Summary: Natasha tricks Cat into going to school. Apparently she's some kind of genius.

Chapter Warnings: Talks about kidnapping.

Notes: Thanks for all the support on this story! Please continue to like/reblog/comment (I feel like a Youtuber). Also if there is anything you're interested in seeing in the story, let me know and I'll try to incorporate it!

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Once they arrived at Natasha's apartment, Cat had to try hard to pretend not to be too impressed.

It had to be three times as large as Trevor's place. It was impeccably furnished and decorated, with lush sofas and pristine countertops. To Cat's delight, there were two fancy espresso machines— if you felt like making two cups at the same time, she guessed. The apartment was located in the richer part of the neighborhood. There was a sprawl of shops and diners across the street. It was clear that being an Avenger paid well.

The house had that fresh, new-house smell. She noticed there were no framed pictures in the apartment, or anything that could have revealed who the owner was. There were three bedrooms. In contrast to the rest of the apartment, the bedrooms were furnished very little. One of them was completely empty. The other two only had beds and drawers. One of them had a desk. There was barely anything in the fridge. Natasha only had plastic cups and utensils.

"I only stay here when I'm in the neighborhood," Natasha explained. "It's more of a safehouse. That's why it's so empty."

Cat was okay with the space. She liked having room to move. It was vastly different from Trevor's apartment, which had been cluttered with so many beer bottles that she could hardly walk from one side of a room to the other without stumbling over something.

Natasha gave her a key to the apartment, and told her, "If you lose it, you aren't getting another one."

Cat was allowed to choose a room; she chose the one with the desk. It took her roughly five minutes to unpack. The only things she still carried with her were basic living necessities and her stuffed rabbit, Rufus. She had a diverse collection of clothes, taken from homeless shelters and traded on the street. They fit her oddly, either oversized or undersized, and most of them were ripped or had holes in them.

The ill-fitting clothes didn't escape Natasha's notice. The second day, Cat woke up to find the closet bursting with a plethora of clothes. Leggings, T-shirts, tops, jeans, jackets, coats. She had no idea how Natasha had gotten her size, but all of them fit her perfectly. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of gratitude. She didn't know if she could put it into words. But Natasha didn't bring it up, so neither did she.

As the days went by, Cat noticed new additions to the apartment. New pens and books appeared in her room. Chew toys and dog beds for Taco manifested in the living room. The fridge was always full. Sometimes Taco Bell would be waiting on the table when Cat got back. A couple of those cheesy mugs with funny one-liners sat next to the expensive wine bottles in the cupboards. And lastly, about five different brands of cereal in the pantry, including Fruit Loops. Yet, Natasha never said a word about it.

Despite what Natasha had said about only living there when she was in the neighborhood, she seemed to be at the apartment quite a lot. She was nearly always at the table in the morning, awake before the sun. She would be reading a book or scrolling through her phone, a pot of coffee steaming next to her. She always glared when Cat stole it to pour herself two mugfuls of coffee, muttering something about grubby coffee-addicted children.

Cat appreciated the tranquil peacefulness of the mornings. Back when she lived at Trevor's, mornings were the only time she had to herself. She'd never been great at the whole sleeping thing, either. It wasn't uncommon for her to be up at 3AM drinking coffee. When she'd been homeless, her sleep schedule had been all over the place.

However, Natasha's sleeping schedule seemed even more irregular. She often came back to the apartment at odd hours, or got up at midnight for a jog. Sometimes, they caught each other in the kitchen in the early hours and talked about nothing in particular. Natasha never asked her why she was up so late, or told her to go back to sleep. She did, however, make many comments that hinted at Cat's unhealthy sleeping habits, which Cat was content to ignore. Their conversations had a fair amount of rolling eyes and bickering.

Still, some days Cat walked into the kitchen in the morning and Natasha wasn't there. The woman never left a note or mentioned leaving. She'd come back after a few days. The most she'd been away was two weeks. Cat guessed that she was on some Avenger-related mission. She'd always come back looking a little tired, with bandages over fresh cuts and bruises.

Cat was good on her own. Cash was kept in a hidden drawer in the kitchen. Natasha had shown it to her the first week. She could get in and out of the apartment with her key. Over the next few weeks, she fell into a routine. She spent the days walking around the city, exploring new streets and shops. She took Taco to the park, went to the library to read, and was free to do whatever she pleased.

Overall, life was good. So good, that Cat had to routinely keep reminding herself to not get too comfortable. Still, it was hard when she had all the Fruit Loops and coffee she could ever want, a warm place to sleep, and the constant hunger in her stomach no longer intensified day by day.

But what if this whole plan didn't work out? Cat knew better than to think this was anything but a temporary arrangement. She had learned from making this mistake in various foster homes. One second, things were fine— then all of the sudden, BAM! She was back in the system because they decided she was too troublesome, too mouthy, too much to deal with. She got into too many fights, she was too hyper, she was mean to the other kids— Cat had heard it all. What if the same thing happened with Natasha? The questions lingered in her mind.

The first time Natasha had left for a mission, Cat had explored the entire apartment fully. She'd discovered not one but twenty-three different hiding places loaded with weapons, cash, fake passports, and random assortments. Cat didn't know why she was so surprised when she saw the guns. Of course the Black Widow would want to be protected in her own house. But the guns gave her an idea.

Just in case she had to live on the streets again, she needed something that would protect her. Cat took a gun from one of the hiding places and stashed it in her pillowcase. She'd read about that type of gun in the library and had studied the different diagrams. At night, she practiced taking it apart and putting it back together, then practiced turning the safety on and off. Sometimes she would aim it at nothing in particular, imagining those muggers who'd attacked her on the other end of it. She was reminded of how helpless she felt, how weak.

Briefly, that took her back to Trevor. She shut the memory down quick— she was getting better at that. Gripping the gun tightly, she decided that she never wanted to feel that helpless again.

But simply knowing how to hold the gun wasn't enough. One day, she confronted Natasha at breakfast.

"Teach me how to fight."

Natasha set down her fork. Her expression, as always, was unreadable. "Why?"

"Because I want to know how."

"Why do you want to know how?"

Cat didn't want to tell her the real reason why. She was quiet for a long time. "I just do."

Natasha was silent for a long moment. She seemed to see right through her. Cat shifted nervously.

"Okay."

Cat beamed, nearly springing out of her chair in glee. "Really?"

"However, I have two conditions."

Cat sat back down and crossed her arms, not liking the sound of that. "What are they?"

"One, stop stealing my guns."

Cat's heart stuttered in her chest. How the hell did she notice it was gone? There must've been at least thirty guns hidden around the apartment.

"I… don't know what you're talking about," she tried.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please. You're not as sneaky as you think you are. The walls are paper-thin. And I'm familiar with what assembling and disassembling a semi-automatic pistol sounds like."

"Okay, fine. Stealing guns— not an option. What about the knives?"

Natasha glared.

"Okay, fine. No knives either." Cat leaned back in the chair. "So what's the second condition?"

A gleam in Natasha's eye made Cat feel wary. "The second condition: If I teach you how to fight, you have to go to school."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

And that was how Cat found herself waiting in front of the principal's office at a brand-new school, smack in the middle of the school year, waiting to be admitted into her first class.

Fun.

Natasha only agreed to teaching Cat how to fight after she completed her first day of school. It would be worth it, Cat reminded herself, when she was being taught how to punch a mugger in the face by the Black Widow herself.

When Cat saw the new backpack Natasha had chosen for her, she'd gotten second thoughts. Currenting lying next to her feet, it was no less hideous than her old one. This one was My Little Pony merchandise, a mortifying pink covered in sparkly bright pony decorations. Cat had an inkling that Natasha had done it on purpose— oh, who was she kidding? She'd definitely done it on purpose.

The room was painted a mild and disgusting shade of yellow. The walls were covered in posters with words. Cat amused herself by reading through them. NO BULLYING. Think big! Your only limit is your mind. One was covered with words like responsibility and respectful and happiness. Barf.

The secretaries' desk sat in front of the principal's office. There were two of them. One looked like she should've retired two decades ago. She moved with an agitating slowness only rivaled by the laziest sloth in the rainforest. She was squinting at her computer, frowning and muttering to herself. Cat was almost certain she was playing solitaire. The other secretary was gossiping on the phone to someone about Terry's latest squash patch and how they all looked like a bunch of deformed potatoes.

Taco hadn't been allowed on campus. She was so used to having her beagle around that without her, Cat felt like some part of her was missing. That, coupled with having to sit still at the chair made her antsy. Cat had never been a patient person. She checked the time on the clock for the second time that same minute. How was it possible that she'd only been waiting seven and a half minutes?

Cat was saved from her boredom by the door beside her chair swinging open. A dark haired boy sauntered in. Cat caught a glimpse of a self-satisfied expression on his face as he made his way to the secretaries' desk and slammed a pink slip of paper down on it with an unnecessary amount of force.

"Jesus!" the gossiping secretary cried.

The secretary playing solitaire showed no sign of acknowledging that anything had happened. She frowned and muttered to herself some more, clicking her mouse.

"Hi, Julie," the boy said.

"Please stop calling me Julie, Lance. I'm Mrs. Schroder."

"But it's your name. Can't I call you by your name?"

"Well it's unprofessional—"

"But I'm not a professional. I'm only a kid."

"That's not the point, Lance. Let me see that." She took the pink paper slip from him. "What've you done this time?" She read it and shook her head. "Take a seat next to Catalina, Lance."

Lance turned around and plopped down next to Cat. He looked at her. His eyes were weirdly bright and blue, a steep contrast to his dark hair.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," Cat whispered back, unsure of why they were whispering.

"I haven't seen you before. You must be new."

Cat raised her eyebrows. "Just because you haven't seen me before doesn't mean I'm new. There are loads of people at this school."

"I know everyone here. I've been going here since kindergarten."

"Good for you."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "But you are new, right?"

"Yes," Cat admitted.

"I knew it!"

"There's no need to sound so pleased with yourself. It's not like you made a groundbreaking discovery."

"I'm Lance, by the way. I'm in fourth grade." He reached his right hand over. Cat shifted in her seat, awkwardly positioning herself so she could shake his hand. "You're Catalina, right?"

"Just Cat for short. I'm also in fourth grade. Your hand's really cold."

He released her hand, looking a little embarrassed. "They're always that way. I have bad cir-cu-la-tion" he said, sounding the word out slowly. "But my mom always says I should shake people's hands when I meet them. She's weird."

My mom's dead, Cat nearly said, but deemed it a little too heavy for fourth grader conversational topics.

"So why do you listen to her?" she asked instead.

"I don't know. 'Cause she's my mom, I guess." His eyes moved down to the My Little Pony monstrosity. "Nice backpack."

"Not really. I know it's ugly. I didn't choose it."

"Did your mom choose it for you?"

"No," she said shortly. Before he could ask about it, Cat switched tracks quickly. "How'd you get in trouble?"

He grinned mischievously. "I dumped a bucket of paint over Chelsea's head. It got all over her hair. You should've seen her face." He crowed delightfully. "Mrs. Reynolds totally freaked out. It was hilarious."

She huffed, turning away from him. "Jerk."

"Hey," he protested. "I'm not a jerk!"

"Says the guy who poured a bucket of paint over some girl's head for no reason."

"First of all, it was Chelsea Manchester. If you knew that witch, you'd want to pour a bucket of paint over her head too. And it wasn't for no reason!"

"I bet it was for a stupid reason, then."

"It wasn't!"

"Was!"

"Wasn't!"

"Was!"

"Wasn't!"

Their argument had risen in volume so that the secretary on the phone snapped, "HEY! You two! Quiet!"

Cat crossed her arms, throwing a skeptical look at him. "What was the reason, then?" she asked, quieter.

"She bet me I wouldn't," Lance said proudly.

Cat rolled her eyes. "See? Stupid reason."

Before Lance could retaliate, the principal's door swung open. He was an unsightly, pudgy man with no neck and squinty eyes, decked out in a full suit that probably didn't fit him as well as he hoped it would.

"Catalina?" he called.

"She likes being called Cat," Lance interjected. "I know that because I talked to her, Mr. Tater Tot."

"Wow," Cat said. "Is your name actually Mr. Tater Tot?"

"No," Mr. Tater Tot said crossly. "It's Mr. Tate. Lance, if you could refrain from passing your bad influence on our new students, I will be with you in a second. Catalina, come on in."

"It's Cat!" Lance called from his seat as Cat followed Mr. Tater Tot inside his office.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

This is a way better punishment than skipping recess," Lance said later, as he was pointing out the bathrooms to her.

Mr. Tater Tot had told Lance that being the welcome wagon for Cat was his punishment for pouring paint over Chelsea Manchester. He also had to write the girl a formal apology letter.

"But it doesn't actually have to be an apology letter," Lance told Cat. "Mr. Tater Tot never actually reads the thing, 'cause he's so busy and all. Supposedly. So basically you can write stuff like I hope you find a dead rat in your cubby the next time we have recess and you're good to go."

"Oh, here's Mrs. Reynold's class," he said, leading her through a door.

The classroom was colorful and full of the same gag-worthy posters she'd seen in the principal's office. Desks were pushed together to create table groups. Mrs. Reynolds was a young twenty-something woman who didn't seem awful at doing her job. Only, she made Cat introduce herself in front of the entire class like they were in kindergarten.

"Say your name and your favorite color," Mrs. Reynolds encouraged her.

Cat told everyone her favorite color was gray. It wasn't, but she thought it was funny because who the hell liked gray, of all colors?

Mrs. Reynolds placed her in the same group as Lance, a boy wearing rectangular glasses, and a seething girl who looked like she'd taken a shower with all her clothes on. Her hair was dripping over the carpet and her skin was tinged blue. She had a delicate face and would've been pretty if she hadn't looked like a Smurf. Cat presumed this was Chelsea Manchester.

The boy wearing glasses looked relieved when Lance and Cat came over. "Oh good, you're back. She's been going on and on."

"You! Look what you did to me!" Chelsea shrieked at Lance. "Mrs. Reynolds! I don't want to sit near him!"

"Get along, you two," Mrs. Reynolds said airily, passing worksheets to everyone.

"That's T.J.," Lance introduced, pointing at the boy with the glasses, "and that's the wicked witch herself."

T.J. waved. "Hi."

"Do not listen to anything he tells you. Lance is a huge loser." Chelsea turned to Lance, shoving the blue sleeve of her white fluffy coat. "This was a beautiful titanium white before! Look what color it is now!"

"Now it's a nice titanium blue," Cat offered.

Chelsea frowned at her. "That doesn't even make sense!"

Mrs. Reynolds hurried over. "Catalina—"

"It's Cat," Lance corrected.

"Right— Cat, would you come over here?" Mrs. Reynolds beckoned her towards a sole desk isolated from the rest of the class, in the farthest corner. There was a small packet sitting on it, as well as a pencil and eraser. "This is just a standard test. You'll be quizzed on math or English. Don't worry if you haven't prepared for it. It's not graded, it's just for me to see where you're at academically. Try to get through as many problems as you can. I'm not expecting you to complete the whole thing, just try your best…"

Cat didn't think she'd have any problem with the test. She had studied to a high school level in the library. Math came easy to her. All it was was memorizing a bunch of rules and applying it to numbers. English was a little harder, but it was similar to math in the sense that it also had a set of rules to memorize.

After Mrs. Reynolds left her to teach the class, Cat quickly scanned the problems on the first page. Sure enough, all the problems on the first page were easy enough that she could do in her head. She flew through them, circling the correct answers. The second page was much of the same.

Cat flipped through the third, the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth pages with little to no difficulty. Surely it couldn't be this easy! She had spent so much time at the library, away from school, she'd forgotten how easy all the elementary school material was. By the time she reached the last page, Mrs. Reynolds still hadn't come to get her.

Cat sneaked a look up. The class was bent over their desks, scribbling on paper. The only sound was the occasional mutter from a student, immediately silenced by Mrs. Reynolds. Was Cat supposed to just… sit there? She flipped through the pages of the test packet again, making sure that she hadn't missed anything important that should have been consuming her time.

But she'd finished every single problem. She didn't bother checking her work; she knew she'd done it all correctly. When it came to math, she was like a calculator.

Unsure of what else to do, Cat settled for doodling on the margins of the test. She drew a spider, a pumpkin, a pumpkin eating a spider… She was so focused, she jumped when she heard Mrs. Reynold's voice next to her ear.

"I'm sorry, Cat. I'm so silly— I just realized I gave you the wrong test. That's the middle school curriculum. You must've been so confused!" Mrs. Reynolds took the packet from Cat and frowned. Eyebrows climbing up on her forehead, she flipped through the pages and looked back up at Cat again. Then back down at the test. Then—

"Have you finished the packet already?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't show your work," she observed.

"I did it in my head," Cat explained.

Mrs. Reynolds looked at Cat thoughtfully. "Hmm."

She hurried away with Cat's test, telling the class she was leaving for a little bit and to behave. Cat sat there for a long time, not knowing what to do and feeling like she did something wrong. The class was beginning to finish whatever it was they were working on. Quiet chatter turned into a clamor of voices.

Mrs. Reynolds burst into the classroom again, the chatter immediately calmed. She told T.J. to pass out another round of worksheets, causing the class to collectively groan. She returned to Cat's isolated corner desk and slid another packet to her and asked her to complete it.

This time, Mrs. Reynolds dragged a chair over and watched as Cat completed the test. Cat found it a little creepy. The test was a little harder than the previous one, but she was still able to finish it without any trouble. After she finished, Mrs. Reynolds left the classroom again and came back. Cat had no idea why Mrs. Reynolds looked so amazed and confused. Teachers were weird.

"Cat, this is incredible," Mrs. Reynolds whispered to her. "You completed a seventh grade level and an eighth grade level standardized test, and you passed both with flying colors."

Oh. No wonder it was so easy. Cat stared blankly at Mrs. Reynolds, who seemed to be waiting for a reaction. What was the big deal? "Um… cool," she said.

"Okay," Mrs. Reynolds said, still looking like she couldn't believe what she was saying. "You can go back to your table group now."

"Don't worry about the test," T.J. told her when she came back. "Everyone did horrible on it."

"Not me," Chelsea sniffed. "I did spectacularly. Mrs. Reynolds told my parents herself."

Lance snorted. "I suppose your parents were the ones who told you that?"

"Why does it matter?" Chelsea asked indignantly.

Lance rolled his eyes.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"How was school?" Natasha called as Cat unlocked the apartment and stormed in. Taco sprung up from the couch and charged into her.

"Horrible. Not you, Taco," Cat mumbled into Taco's fur. "You're wonderful."

Natasha came into the living room, holding the landline. "That's not what your teacher said. She called— apparently you're some kind of genius."

Cat had reached into a box of Fruit Loops and stuffed a handful in her mouth. It took her a long time to chew and swallow. "Well, obviously. I didn't need her to tell me that."

"She says you could take some classes at the high school if you're interested." Natasha waited for an answer. When none came, she pressed, "Well? Are you interested?"

Cat set the box of Fruit Loops down, not liking the steely glint in Natasha's eyes. "If I say I'm not, are you going to refuse to teach me how to fight?"

"The chances of me using that as leverage against you… are very high."

Cat clenched her jaw. "You're evil. And manipulative."

Natasha smirked. "So you're on board?"

"I'm going to be bullied. Relentlessly."

"You are not. High schoolers love ten year old know-it-all geniuses."

"They do not."

"Then it's a good thing you're going to know how to beat some high schoolers up after you learn from the best. Isn't that what you want?"

Cat sighed theatrically, long and drawn-out. "Fiiiiine.”

"Great!" Natasha chirped with uncharacteristic cheer. "I was going to sign you up regardless of your answer."

"Thanks so much for bothering to ask me at all," Cat said sarcastically. She grabbed Taco's leash. "Taco and I are going on a walk. See you never."

"Midtown High!" Natasha called after her retreating form. "You're going to be learning amongst the best and brightest!"

Cat shouted back a not very nice thing. She could hear Natasha's low laugh echo before the door swung shut.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Notes: Hmm, who goes to midtown high that we know? Let me know what you think and if you like Cat's friends! See you on thursday!

#black widow #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #avengers fluff #auntie nat #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #civilian!reader x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x oc #avengers fanfiction

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betasquadx · 1 year ago

Text

Movie Night - King Kenny

Request for @sexybarkbark because Ik you wanted a Kenny fic babes!!

Summary : You and your boyfriend Kenny decide that since he isn’t training, you should have a, cozy, chill, Saturday movie night !!

Warnings : None🫶🏻

———

You placed the popcorn in the microwave, grabbing a diet coke from the fridge,

well aware that Kenny still had to be careful what he ate and drank for boxing.

It was a Saturday night, and since it had been a while since yous had a movie night,

you both agreed tonight was the perfect night to do so.

While you didn't mind supporting Kenny's passion for boxing, it was a constant in his life,

keeping him busy most of the time.

So when he said he had two weeks off you had swore you hit the jackpot,

considering he normally only had a day off here and there, two weeks was a lot.

You carried the popcorn and diet coke to the couch,

snuggling up beside your boyfriend, who was already devouring a slice of pizza.

'I thought you were on a diet?' Grinning he replied, 'was.. on a diet.’ munching on another slice of pizza.

You chuckled as he reached for the remote to start the movie, all the while keeping his arm around you.

Yous settled in, relaxing and fully enjoying the movie.

It was a comedy, both you and Kenny’s favourite movie genre.

Sitting up he burst into laughter, grabbing onto you and resting his head on your chest, before you started

joining in on the laughter too, collapsing onto the couch, burying your face in a pillow in an attempt to silence my laughing.

We cuddled back up as he stroked my hair, both of us smiling.

He wrapped his leg around yours, resting his head on your shoulder,

both of you appreciating each-others company.

'Babe, I'm gonna go get some more popcor-,’ is what you had started to say,

until you took a glimpse down at your boyfriend, your words trailing off.

You grinned at the sight, stroking his hair, hearing soft snoring sounds coming from the man.

He had fallen asleep, which you didn’t mind one bit.

You understood how exhausting training could be, and he probably needed a good night's sleep,

considering he barely got one.

For a while, you just sat there, rapping your arms around him, while taking in every detail of his feature.

You soon realized it was getting late. Carefully standing up,

you fetched a pillow to place behind your boyfriend's head.

Grabbing a blanket, you carefully repositioned him slightly on the couch, covering him with the blanket,

and taking off his glasses, putting them on the table.

You stood up, lost in thought. You didn’t want to wake him up,

afraid that he would insist you continue watching the movie, and you knew how exhausted he was.

However, the idea of going to sleep in the bed while he slept in here, on the couch, felt unfair to you.

An idea overcame you, rushing inside the bedroom.

Quickly grabbing a pillow and a blanket before returning to the couch.

As you didn't want to disturb Kenny, and you couldn’t just leave him alone,

you had decided to sleep with him on the couch.

You placed a pillow on the couch, laying down beside your boyfriend, throwing the blanket over you.

You closed your eyes, smiling, wondering what you and Kenny will get up to for the next two weeks.

One thing you were sure of was that you'd be starting movie nights early.

———

Again another short one, I’ll try add onto it soon, as always please tell me if they’re any grammar mistakes🫶🏻

#aj shabeel #beta squad #chunkz #king kenny #kingkennytv #niko omilana #sharky

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extremelyblackandwhite · 11 months ago

Note

Hii i havr is request for

Rockstar!Sebastian

Could you do fluffy headcanons about reader and seb reacting to their children's first boyfriend or girlfriend their first kiss or something like that

Your choice if you wanna do just Jess or just Marion or both :)

I loved this series so so much

author's note: i apologise if i am severely late for this. oops.

Y/N had been cooking dinner when the front door opened and closed with a bang followed by silence. She looked at the car who was happily snoring on the corner of the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Soon enough, Sebastian was walking into the kitchen with a very concerned look on his face. When this happened, there were usually two ways to deal with it - either complete silent and let him burst out with whatever has happened or move to a regular conversation hoping to put him at ease of whatever had happened.

- So, did you get the kids? Did you drop Mason at hockey?

- Yes, Mason is at hockey. - he went to the fridge and got himself a beer. - That weird kid's mum is bring him home after practice.

- You really should try to learn your kid's friend's name. - she handed him a bottle cap opener. - Did you pick u ...

- Y/N, you don't even know what I caught Marion doing. - he interrupted, taking a large gulp of the beer before starting to take laps around the kitchen like a crazed maniac.

Y/N furrowed her brows. Marion didn't cause much harm, she was a good kid. It was usually Mason who tended to be the trouble stirrer.

- Well? - she crossed her arms. - Are you gonna tell me or are we playing the guessing game?

- It was awful. Marion! My good kid. Jesse's at college and Mason at this point has taken too much from my personality to give me any hope but Marion is my good kid.

- Jesus, Seb, what happened? - she cleaned her hands, walking up to him. - Was she drinking, smoking?

- Worse. She was a kissing some greasy dude.

Her nerves settled as she bottled in laughter. It really hadn't occurred to her that this would happen. Jesse and Mason were boys so Sebastian wasn't as protective of them as he was of Marion. The last time Jesse had brought a girl home, Y/N swore she saw him high fiving Jesse. She just forgot that one day it would be Marion's turn to start dating. That day had now arrived.

- Well, you were pretty greasy when we started dating. - she shrugged but Sebastian only looked more mortified.

- Marion better NOT be dating anyone that resembles me at any point before our marriage.

- Seb, calm down. She's 16, she's bound to start dating.

- No, no. No. See, I'm gonna fix this.

- You're gonna fix this? - she crossed her arms, wondering what this meant.

- She's going to an all girl school, a catholic school, a boarding school. Whatever keeps her away from kissing and boys.

- Well ... you can always kiss at an all girl school. - she joked, enjoying how flared up Sebastian was at the idea of his daughter finally getting into dating.

- She's getting home schooled then! We can afford tutors.

- You weren't this fired up when Jess brought a girl home.

- Jess is an adult. He's at college.

- Jess still brings his laundry for us to do. - she laughed before caressing his shoulder. - She's growing up, Seb. You're gonna have to get used to it.

- We need another one.

- Absolutely not.

- But babe, hear me out, if we have another baby, this time we can home school the baby and avoid these issues.

- No. Besides, where is Marion? Did you bring her?

- Yes, she's in her room.

- Probably talking to boys. - she joked but Seb only looked up. - Seb, I'm just kidding.

- Better safe than sorry!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/y/n

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ladylooch · 29 days ago

Note

What is Mack’s reaction to him shaving his mustache off😭

Hahaha I have an idea for this that Mack doesn't see David without a beard or mustache until they are married and have kids ( yes plural). So when David comes out of the bathroom like that, Mack is SHOOK! The kids are crying, running away from him and David has some immediate regrets.

The babies are clinging to Mack with wet cheeks.

"Hey... it's okay." David puts a huge hand on their youngest's head, who squirms away from their father.

"Wow." Mack stutters out at her husband, eyes wide as she puts her hand on the baby's brown hair. "Um. So can we go back to a few minutes ago when you thought that was a good decision?"

"Is it that bad?" He asks, dropping his hands to his side. Mack snorts.

"Our kids are crying and I'm with them on this. It's not good." She laughs as his face drops further into a frown. He rubs at his clean shaven cheeks. The sound is rough as a dark shadow still dusts his cheeks. He shrugs, then leans down to kiss her lips. Mack squirms under his mouth. "Oh my god!" She gasps, then clasps a hand over her own mouth. It's been so long since she kissed anyone other than him, so no mustache on his upper lip feels wrong!

"Babe." He grumbles.

"You need to run this decision by me next time. We gotta go get you a fake one so the babies stop crying." David glares at her, upper lip curling in annoyance. Mack burst out laughing again at the way his face looks distorted, so obviously missing its distinguishing feature.

"You know that unconditional love we talked about in our vows? It's feeling a little conditional right now." Mack howls with laugher.

"I guess it is. I didn't know what you looked like without a mustache before I married you! My mistake." She leans forward, still balancing their youngest on her shoulder as she pokes him in the side. David steps away from her touch.

"Leave me alone." He says with some bite to it. He walks around the couch and heads into the kitchen. Mack watches him with amusement, then slowly her smile starts to drop off her face. His shoulders are tense and he slams the fridge door with a little force. Mack purses her lips, trying to swallow another bubble of laughter.

"Babe, you know I'm teasing you." She murmurs lightly.

David gives her the side eyes as he takes a sip of his sports drink. He screws the top back on then heads down the hallway, swinging his bottle the whole way with attitude.

After getting their youngest situated for nap time, Mack heads towards the bedroom, leaning in the doorway where he leans on his back on their bed.

"Are you mad?"

"No. I'm hurt." He puffs. "If I did that to you, I'd be so deep in the dog house, I'd be spending Christmas morning there next year."

Weird analogy, but it makes Mack laugh.

"Fair. I'm sorry. It's just so... different. I don't know you any other way and I was taken aback."

"The babies cried." He says quietly. Clearly, he is most upset about that.

"Babe, it's new. They're kids. They don't like change. Apparently their mom doesn't either." She walks over to the bed. She climbs on top of him, straddling his lap. He looks up at her with a deep frown pinching his lips. Her fingers run over his bare upper lip, skimming the smooth-rough skin. "It's already growing back." She points out.

Mack leans forward to kiss him. She lets her lips become familiar with this new feel, then drags her tongue along his bottom lip in earnest. David's hands come to her hips to hold her in place.

"I love you." She reminds him.

"Prove it." He mumbles, crudely biting her bottom lip.

Mack pulls away slowly, suspicion tugging her eyes into a squint.

"Were you pretending to be upset?" She sits back on him, directly over his massive erection pressing into her butt.

"No." He answers. Then his big hands roll her hips in his grasp. "I just know exactly how I want you to make it up to me."

"There are kids awake."

"There's a lock on that door for a reason, honey."

#mackdavid au

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punk-jester · 2 years ago

Text

Ghoap ficlet (kinda? idk)

disclaimer: english is not my first language and i only speak it online, also this is my first time writing something like this

The whole squad is back on base after a particularly stressful mission and they're all in the kitchen/common area of some sort. While everyone else is chatting or having a snack Ghost is just standing lurking over them, problem is: he's directly in front of the fridge and Soap is starving so, without thinking, he goes over to Ghost, he puts his hands on his waist, slightly lifts him up and gently gets him out of the way. Tension-filled silence falls over the room as anyone other than Soap notices what happened, the general thought is "Oh shit, Ghost is gonna kill him" but also "How fucking strong is Soap?". Meanwhile Ghost is standing completely still (blushing furiously under the mask) and the only thing going through his mind is "Fuck, that was the nicest way someone's ever touched me." Everyone is expecting a big angry gesture but Ghost just fakes a cough and says "I'm tired, I'll go to my room" Soap watches him go with a tired smile "Night Lt." Then, after Ghost is out of the room, he notices that all eyes are on him "What's wrong?" he frowns "Soap you just fucking manhandled Ghost" Gaz wheezes, desperately trying not to burst out laughing, Soap's face turns red "No I did not" but really, he has no idea if he actually did. "Honesty I'm kind of impressed son, Ghost is a massive lad and you picked him up like he weighted nothing" Price tries to defuse, Alejandro watches him amused "Yeah, he's probably going to kill you, but it was impressive" Rodolfo chuckles "It was nice getting to know you hermano" - Ghost rushes to his room, as he basically sprints through the corridors he almost crushes a rookie and (while the only thing his brain is providing him is "SHIT SHIT SHIT") he shoots him a glare that probably convinced him to pack his stuff and go back to his parents. Once he gets to his room he takes some deep breaths and thinks and thinks again and thinks some more. After about two hours of overthinking he comes to three conclusions: He's head over heals in love with Johnny; He adores the way he touched him earlier; He desperately needs to get Soap to touch him like that again.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #ghost #soap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #soap x ghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soapghost

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treasure-goblin · 5 months ago

Note

So... this has been lying in my wips for a while now, in this half-done state and uh. Yeah. I lost the energy and then the motivation to continue this. But I guess I should show it to you, so. *Shrugs* do with it as you'd like?

Fiorella sighed as she let the warm water of the shower fall over her short hair, dripping onto her face and body, attempting to wash away even a part of their worries. Not that it was that mush of a help, to be honest. Seriously, who calls their neighbour in the middle of the night, someone they barely know, requesting (almost begging) them to babysit their kid?

"No," he remembered saying over phone. "Absolutely not."

"Please? It's either this, or I'll have to hire someone else. I can't take him with me."

"Then hire someone else?"

"I'll have to tell whoever I hire about him."

They had pursed their lips at that. "And you don't want to."

"Look," Roland pleaded, "I'll pay your rent for a week. Just, please. Help me out?"

"...I'm sorry, Roland."

"I'll throw in some cupcakes too."

And that was how Fiorella found himself towelling down, putting on their lucky t-shirt (because by God did they need it today), picking up the backpack they had stuffed with plusses and snacks (what do you even do when babysitting a human-spider hybrid?), and locking her apartment room behind herself.

Once upstairs, they waited for a few moments at Roland's door, steeling herself, before ringing the bell. The door burst open almost immediately, and out came their neighbour, dressed in formal clothes, and wrapped Fiorella in a quick embrace. "You're an angel, thank you so much, I have no idea what I'd do without you."

Fiorella laughed. "I'm holding you to the cupcakes."

"Sure, sure," they waved their hand dismissively. "They're in the fridge. Help yourself."

"Any special instructions?" he asked.

"Yeah. There's some goop in the fridge too. In a yellow Tupperware. Give it to him after about an hour, then you can put him to sleep. And he really likes that movie, Bug's Life? Yeah, that one. You can put it on for him if he's being a nuisance, just make sure he doesn't try to eat the screen. Or his Jenga, for that matter. Or anything else, really-"

"Relax, I've got it." She tapped their shoulder as she stepped in. "You take care of your thing, okay? Leave it to me."

"Right," Roland exhaled. "Okay. Yeah. I'll be back by 4, latest 4:30."

"Got it."

A smile lifted her face. "Thank you, [last name]."

"Don't worry about it," he smiled back. "Now go!"

They turned and left.

IVE LITERALLY BEEN THINKING ABOUT THESE THREE SO MUCH AKDKWKDMKSKKKSDJSKDJDJD I LOVE THEM

#asks #ran!!<3 #my random friend <3 #partner in chaos #baby bean and friends

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callme-adam-iguess · 1 year ago

Text

Welcome home incorrect quotes! WARNING: A L O T

Barnaby: I bet you can’t make a sentence without the letter “A”!

Wally: You thought you just did something there, didn’t you? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but numerous sentences could be constructed without employing the first letter of the English lexicon.

Howdy: Fuck you.

∆

Howdy: Eddie learned how to fold origami penguins from Barnaby the other day. I told them, “I feel a little bad for the penguins, it’s hot here”, and the next day they put them in the fridge.

∆

Barnaby: I’m not a doctor I’m a medic.

Eddie: What’s the difference then?

Barnaby: Well doctors actually save lives, medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die.

Howdy: Note to self; never get shot.

∆

Barnaby: What are you two arguing about this time?

Frank: They’re always using common phrases incorrectly!

Howdy: Cry me a table, Frank.

Or, alternatively:

Y/N: What are you two arguing about this time?

Barnaby: They’re always using common phrases incorrectly!

Wally: Cry me a table, Barnaby.

∆

Frank: I have a bad feeling about this...

Wally: What do you mean?

Frank: Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?

Wally: No?

Barnaby: That actually explains so much.

∆

Eddie: Where’s Frank?

Howdy: Around.

Eddie: Around?

Eddie: You don’t have any idea, do you?

Frank, dropping down from above: Did you know there’s a space above the ceiling?

∆

Howdy: *finds a note* Hmm, whats this?

Y/N: Hey, that's mine! *tries to grab it*

Howdy: Aww, it's a love note for Wally?

Y/N: No-

Howdy: *opens it*

Howdy:

Y/N:

Howdy: I can't read this.

∆

Wally: When I was a kid, Howdy told me that the paper strip that’s in the chocolate kisses were edible and I ate them with the chocolate for a year.

Frank: They are!

Wally: FOR REAL?

Frank: No! Why did you fall for it again?

∆

Barnaby: What time is it?

Wally: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out

Wally: *BLASTS the saxaphone*

Eddie: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING

Wally: It’s 2 am

∆

Y/N: The clock is ticking! We don't have time for this asinine tomfoolery!

Howdy: This unmitigated poppycock?

Frank: Extravagant hogwash!

Y/N: Okay, stop.

∆

Y/N: My father's name is just mine as well, so I'm technically Y/N Jr.

Howdy: But who comes up when you look up Y/N on Google?

Wally: That's what I thought!

Howdy: One Y/N to rule them all!

∆

Barnaby: Adults are the most insanely stupid people I have the displeasure of interacting with.

Howdy, referring to themself and Wally: Even us?

Barnaby: Especially you guys.

Wally:

Howdy:

Wally: Petition to kick Barnaby out so they stop insulting us.

Howdy: Seconded.

∆

Wally, whispering to Y/N, who's on the phone with Frank: Ask them something!

Y/N: How are you feeling?

Frank: Fine.

Wally: Something personal!

Y/N: At what age did you first get your period?

∆

Wally: *speaking Spanish*

Barnaby: I know, I know.

Y/N: You speak Spanish?

Barnaby: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Wally speaks.

∆

Y/N: Can we go to a haunted house?

Frank: What’s wrong with the one we live in?

Y/N: Wh-what?

Frank: Goodnight, Y/N.

∆

Barnaby: Advice of the day kids, if you ever meet someone who calls Gatorade flavors the actual name of the flavor instead of just the color then they are a certified nerd.

Howdy: Yeah but you have to specify, frost glacier or cool blue? You can’t just say blue because there’s more than one blue.

Barnaby: Blue and light blue, nice try nerd.

∆

Eddie: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.

Howdy: That’s a snake.

∆

Eddie: Why are you doing this?

Y/N: Same reason I do everything, Eddie. To get somebody to like me.

∆

Wally: I am a responsible adult!

Barnaby: *raises brow*

Wally: I am an adult.

∆

Howdy: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk.

Howdy: *cuts piece of cake*

Barnaby: ...Can I have some?

Howdy: Cake is for talkers.

∆

Eddie: Alright, so the vampire's gravestone is—

Frank: Cenotaph.

Eddie: What?

Eddie: It's only a gravestone if it marks the location of a body. A monument honouring someone whose body isn't present is a cenotaph.

Eddie: I'm... not sure that's how it works if the body gets up and walks away on its own.

Frank: There's a precedent for gravestones being reclassified as cenotaphs if the body is later removed and reinterred elsewhere. There's no rule that says the body itself can't do the removing.

Eddie: Okay, but the body is very much coming back. That's kind of what we're here to accomplish.

Frank: So it's a temporary cenotaph.

Eddie: And naturally our greatest concern here is avoiding semantic ambiguity.

Frank: Semantic ambiguity is how vampires get you.

∆

Y/N: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into-

Barnaby: You sleep with a teddybear.

Y/N: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

∆

Eddie: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Y/N: Theft.

Frank: Disturbing the peace.

Howdy: Aggravated assault.

Barnaby: Arson.

Wally: All of the above. In that order, probably.

∆

Y/N: From now on we will be using code names.

Y/N: You can address me as Eagle One.

Y/N: Frank is “been there done that”.

Y/N: Eddie is “currently doing that”.

Y/N: Barnaby is “it happened once in a dream”.

Y/N: Wally is “if I had to pick a dude/gal/enby”.

Y/N: And Howdy is..

Y/N: Eagle Two

Howdy: Oh thank god.

∆

Eddie: Christmas lights?

Howdy: Check.

Wally: Thermos of hot cocoa?

Howdy: Check.

Y/N: Santa suits?

Howdy: Check.

Frank: Shovel?

Howdy: Check.

Barnaby: Alibi and bail money?

Howdy: Check- wait, WHAT?!

∆

Howdy: What's worse than a heartbreak?

Y/N: Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging.

Barnaby: Waking up in the morning.

Eddie: Waking up. (I'm concerned -Adam)

Wally: Waking up in the morning...

Wally: And seeing Frank.

Frank: Hey! Rude!!

∆

Frank: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.

Barnaby: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...

Eddie: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.

Y/N: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.

Howdy: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.

Wally: Mental stability, my old friend!

Frank: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

∆

*The gang responding to being stabbed by a sword*

Frank: Rude.

Eddie: That's fair.

Barnaby: Not again.

Y/N: Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?

∆

Frank: Y/N spat in Barnaby's ear today when they were sitting on the couch together.

Wally: ...What?! Why?!

Frank, shrugging: You tell me.

∆

Wally: Die.

Barnaby: Please don't die!

Wally: DIE!

Barnaby: PLEASE DON'T DIE!

Y/N, confused: Why are they yelling at a plant?

Frank, watching while eating popcorn: They bought it together and Barnaby wants Wally to accept it as their kid.

∆

Y/N: I give up. I am so tired.

Eddie: Get the emergency supply!

Frank: *carries Howdy and places them in front of Y/N*

Howdy: *smiles*

Y/N: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO

#HEHEHEHEHEHGEG #welcome home arg #eddie dear #frank frankly #barnaby beagle #wally darling #Y/N #howdy pillar

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