#and ! the cat has really warmed up to the new place today

[louisdotmp3]

now i have access to free endless farm fresh eggs and the fanciest espresso machine!!!! some things are bad this month but those are great

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[aisiedaisie]

hi <3 this is super self-indulgent haha…but would you be willing to write a poly!wolfstar with a reader who still has their like raggedy lovey stuffed animal from when they were a baby that maybe they were hiding from the boys and how they react to finding out? xx

Hello hello~! This is absolutely adorable! I’m definitely guilty of holding onto childhood plushies too, so this is a bit self-indulgent for me as well. I really hope you enjoy!!! 

Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader WC: 1.1k

You flop down onto the fresh, unfamiliar bed, surrounded by boxes and bags, the remnants of your old flat strewn across the floor. Today was all about hauling practically everything from your last place into your boyfriend's house—your new home.

You’re grateful for this room of your own. It’s small, but that was your one non-negotiable condition. You love them both fiercely, but there’s something about having a sanctuary to retreat to, a space that’s just yours.

Their bed may be huge, but you know yourself: the thought of sharing it every night feels a bit too close for comfort, especially with everyone's mismatched schedules.

Plus, you’ve learned the hard way about Sirius’s habit of kicking in his sleep. He’d boot you clear off the bed at four in the morning if you gave him the chance. And Remus? He’s a snuggler—a heavy, unyielding snuggler. When he wraps an arm around you, it’s like being pinned by a warm, affectionate weight. Charming, absolutely, but not so convenient when you really have to pee in the morning.

So here you are, content but completely drained, with the three of you spending most of the day heaving boxes into the car and scrubbing down your old flat.

“Oh, it feels good to just lie down,” you groan, the ache of a long day catching up with you.

“I told you to wear comfortable shoes, dove,” Remus says softly, leaning against the doorframe and watching you with a fond smile.

You turn your head, flashing him a tired grin. “In my defense, I thought these were comfortable.”

“And is our princess now resting in her royal quarters?” Sirius quips, appearing just behind Remus, fresh from hauling a load of flattened boxes down to the bin.

“Absolutely,” you tease, shaking your head at his playful tone. “Thanks for helping me out. I’m sorry Marls had to back out last minute.” You sigh, thinking of how your best friend had called that morning with the news: her girlfriend had been in a minor accident at work and had to be rushed to the hospital. You could hardly blame her for canceling; if either of your boys were in the hospital, you’d drop everything to be there, too.

“Anytime, darling,” Sirius murmurs as he strolls into the room. With a dramatic flop, he lands on his back on the far side of the bed, letting out a soft “oof.” It’s an endearing sound that makes you laugh, even as you feel the day’s exhaustion settling in.

“Well?” You turn to Remus, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Planning to join us?” The question comes out with a flirtatious smile, hinting at just how much you’d love him to join you and Sirius.

Remus rolls his eyes, but there’s a softness there, too, as he lets out a gentle sigh. Shaking his head with a small, amused smile, he pads over to the foot of the bed and settles down, reaching for both of you. His hands find their way into your hair and Sirius’s, brushing through in a familiar, calming rhythm, almost like he’s petting two contented cats.

Sirius stretches his arms, accidentally knocking one of the many decorative pillows off the bed. With a groan, he slides down to his knees to retrieve it, grabbing the plush white pillow and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed. But as he does, something else catches his eye—a faded mint-green fabric peeking out from an open duffel bag beside the bed.

“Siri?” Remus calls out, noticing that Sirius hasn’t returned to join them.

Curious, you sit up, wondering why he’s so distracted. Army-crawling to the edge of the bed, you spot his gaze fixed on the bag, and your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s staring at.

Panicking, you scramble off the bed and slide down beside him, nearly losing your balance in the rush. Remus’s concerned voice cuts in as he leans over, “Dove, you alright?” But you’re already reaching for the item that has Sirius’s full attention, fumbling slightly in an attempt to tuck it out of sight.

Sirius’s brows lift with curiosity. “What are you hiding?” he asks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he tries to gently wrestle the object from you.

“Nothing!” you whine, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

Remus raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “That doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’” he says with a smirk. “Especially if you’re going to all this trouble to hide it.”

You squeal, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness as you pull the plush tightly to your chest.

Sirius’s hands stop their playful struggle, but he keeps them on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he softens his tone. “Baby?”

You groan, sitting up and holding the well-loved, slightly worn mint-colored bunny in your arms. The little plush flops over as you look down at it, feeling a bit sheepish.

"My mom got her for me when I was a baby," you explain, your voice quiet but steady. "I know it's childish to still sleep with plushies at my age, but... she's just always been there for me. Through everything—moving around, tough nights, even all the times I was scared or stressed. It’s like… having a little piece of home with me."

Sirius's expression softens, a warm smile tugging at his lips. "That’s not childish at all, Love," he says, rubbing a gentle hand over your back. "Everyone needs something that makes them feel safe."

Remus nods in agreement, reaching out to touch the bunny's worn little ear. "And besides," he says with a grin, "if anyone gives you trouble about it, just remember who they’re talking to. You’ve got two knights here who’d defend a bunny’s honor, no questions asked."

You laugh, feeling a rush of relief. Hugging the bunny a bit tighter, you feel their arms wrap around you, holding you just as close.

"I love you both so much—" your voice comes out soft, but the warmth in it is unmistakable. You don’t even get a chance to finish before Sirius practically pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms tighter around you with a grin that practically lights up the room.

"Good," he says, squeezing you reassuringly. "Because we're not going anywhere."

Remus leans in on your other side, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with that gentle smile of his. "We love you too," he murmurs. "And that bunny? She’s part of the family now."

You can’t help but laugh, your heart feeling lighter than it has in ages as you sit there, held in the arms of the two people who mean everything to you, with your cherished bunny nestled close. In that moment, you know for certain that home isn’t just a place—it’s right here, with them.

[yaespook]

Indulgence.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Incubus! Reader x Sub! Switch! Priest! Kaveh x Sub! Bottom! Incubus! Alhaitham, reader has a cock, mostly focused on Kaveh, threesome, sacrilegious themes (Catholicism), worshipping and blasphemy, inexperienced virgin Kaveh, Kaveh has religious guilt regarding masturbating/sex, Kaveh wears a clerical collar, handjob (reader receiving), frotting (Alhaitham with Kaveh), vague incubus powers (entering dreams and binding tattoos). Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The head of the fortune cat appears on the front desk.]

It started out quite innocently in Kaveh’s mind really.

It was another early morning Sunday mass. The same old kind where it was mostly just grandparents attending, when the warm sunlight hasn’t quite fully peeked through the clouds yet. The lights in the church weren’t all on either because only the front few pews were occupied anyway, dousing the environment in a cold sort of blueish grey.

For Father Kaveh, the processes were all the same. The same parishioners, the same blue-greyness, the same prayers. It was always the same and it has always been for a while now.

But today was different. During his homily, he caught a glimpse of two unfamiliar faces sitting amongst the congregation in the wooden pews of the church. It’s hard not to notice such a charming presence intently listening in on the homily he had prepared in a crowd of churchgoers who looked half asleep.

(He would be lying if he said that the both of you weren't attractive too. Unfortunately, lying is definitely a sin. Hence, he simply admits it in his mind and files it away in a mental archive for… further reflection when he has the time. Ugh, it’d be better if that man next to you put down the book he was reading.) 

If he injected a little more pep into his homily after you piqued his interest, then no one but God has to know.

However, he's later promptly caught off guard when the two of you were the first ones to approach him after mass for a chat. Kaveh’s never one to turn down an opportunity to get to know and welcome new parishioners so of course he enthusiastically grasped at the chance to talk to the both of you.

Sparing a subtle glance up and down, he drinks in the sight before him. You were both dressed impeccably, not a single hair out of place, sinfully glamourous. But Kaveh knows better than to ogle so he tears his gaze away and instead focuses on making conversation instead.

“A blessed morning to the both of you! I don't think I've ever seen you two in the early morning congregation before, I am Father Kaveh, the priest of this parish.”

He extends a hand for a handshake, first towards you, which you grasp firmly. When you make contact with him, Kaveh is slightly taken aback at the heightened warmth of your touch on his skin. 

“Sorry, I’ve been told I run hotter than most, but it’s a pleasure to meet you, Father Kaveh,” your voice is smooth and pleasing to the ear, a shake snaking its way down his spine when you say your own name. Silently, he repeats your name in his mind, and he’s further charmed when you remark, “I’ve heard a lot about you, all good things, don’t worry, which is why Alhaitham and I came to see you.”

Kaveh’s head swivels to look over at the other, Alhaitham, and when he shakes his hand, he finds out that the both of you run rather hot. There’s a book held in his other hand, the one he was reading earlier during mass.

“Likewise, a pleasure to meet you,” Alhaitham says, levelling Kaveh with an unreadable stare, “We look forward to getting to know you more.”

At this, Kaveh beams, a cheery grin on his face, “As do I. If you ever need it, the mass timings are always in the weekly church bulletin, I hope to see the two of you more often.”

He excuses himself to chat with the other parishioners, bidding the two of you goodbye. However, even whilst talking to the others and hearing about their day-to-day troubles, and throughout the rest of the week, he finds his mind drifting back to the both of you. What makes you so memorable, so charming to him? Is it the way you carry yourself? Your voice? Or is it simply just, you?

He catches himself looking forward to the next mass where he might see you again, to spot your faces amidst the tired crowd, to converse again. And he does, every Sunday morning mass.

Kaveh sees you and Alhaitham sitting in the same pew every time you attend and it’s almost like clockwork whenever his eyes quickly dart over to the two of you when he’s addressing the congregation. And he firmly attests that you crack him a small smile when you catch him doing so, as if you knew he was going to glance over at that very second.

Over the weeks, he’s grown attached despite the warning bells scolding him not to at the back of his mind.

“Kaveh, get a hold of yourself, you’ve dedicated yourself to the church, this is no way to be thinking of your parishioners,” slapping his cheeks lightly, he tries to shake the thoughts of you out of his head but it seems like no matter what he does, you’ve managed to slither your way into his brain, where you now reside in 24/7.

Sighing, he says a prayer (one imploring for the strength to resist temptation) before he tucks himself into bed for a restful night.

Except, it’s anything but.

As soon as he succumbs to slumber, his eyes snap open at the sensation of a hand stroking through his hair. They adjust to the ceiling light in his room, strange, didn’t he turn them off before sleeping? 

Blearily looking up, he sees the twin troubles plaguing him. But there’s no way the two of you are here, you don’t know the church grounds that well and there should be no reason for you to know which room he stays in either. It’s all improbable and that’s how he figures out that this is just some sort of fucked up lucid dream. (A small buried part of him deflates at this knowledge for some reason.)

“Hey Father Kaveh, sorry we couldn’t wait until the next Sunday, so we’ve come to see you early,” your words snap him out of his thoughts. 

“Oh no, for you to infiltrate even my dreams, just how much am I thinking about the two of you?” Kaveh grumbles as his hand goes to rest over his eyes. He hears you chuckle before Alhaitham speaks next.

“So you think about us too?” The bed shifts and another hand joins in to roughly tussle his hair.

“Begrudgingly so, it’s as if you’ve consumed my every waking thought,” a weak sigh, “Maybe it’s a test from above, something meant to test me.”

“That’s rough, Father Kaveh, to be reduced to ‘something meant to test you’, after all these weeks,” you feign a watery tone, “Is that all you see us as?”

“No! Of course not!” He yells out, snapping to sit upright and grabbing your hands. As if he could ever see you as a burden to shoulder. You’ve been nothing but courteous and kind to him, a rare indulgence in his routine days and scheduled masses. Someone who actually consistently converses with him, asking about him, caring for him. 

The bed shifts again, Alhaitham and you moving to sit in closer next to him, and you ask, “That’s a relief, then what do you see us as?” 

Kaveh feels that familiar quiver snake its way down his spine, like all those weeks ago when it first started, the words caught in his throat as he scrambles to produce an appropriate yet truthful answer to your loaded question. 

“I… I can’t lie,” his voice is shaky, trying to navigate the chaos in his mind for the right thing to say. 

“It’s fine, you can tell us,” Alhaitham’s voice lulls.

Whatever. It’s a dream after all.

Kaveh sucks in a breath before blurting out, “My thoughts about the two of you have veered into more sinful territories-!”

A beat of silence passes and he buries his face into his hands, bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Such an honest priest we have here on our hands, anything else you want to confess, Father Kaveh?” Your tease makes him flush even more, intense embarrassment washing over him but it changes instantly when you turn his hand over and gently kiss the back of it.

Great, now his mind is making him dream of such situations?

His vision spins when he feels Alhaitham’s hands roam up his back, the heat permeating through his pyjamas as you lean in next to his ear, your breath on his exposed skin hot, hot, hot.

“I would give you your penance but it seems like we’ve run out of time, shame,” your tongue darts out to lick the shell of his ear and he shakes. You snap your fingers.

“Wake up.”

Kaveh snaps up, awake for real this time. The warm sunlight streams in through a window but he can’t find it in himself to enjoy such a wonderful morning when his mind is still reeling from such a depraved dream. He looks down. He’s hard.

No matter what he does, his usual morning prayers, an awfully cold shower, nothing helps to solve his problem. And he’s running out of time with the next scheduled mass coming up soon.

Biting his bottom lip, he experimentally presses his palm against his clothed cock, immediately rewarded with a rush of pleasure through his body. Repeating the action, he palms his erection, breath coming out in pants at the ramping buzz in him. 

“Hah… Forgive m-me Father, for I- ah! -have sinned,” Kaveh blubbers out pitifully between breaths, praying as he tries to tear his mind away from the sin of his act.

He’s never… touched himself in such a way before, and to discover how terrifyingly addictive the bliss that he’s been holding himself back from experiencing all this time is, he feels his resolve crack.

Hurriedly, he shimmies his pants and underwear down, just enough for him to wrap his hand around his cock, revelling in the newness of the sensation. He starts with a light tug, aided by the amount of precum from his earlier palming, and the direct friction goes to muddy his brain. He resorts to biting down on his finger to muffle his noises lest anyone comes down the corridor.

Thoughts of you and Alhaitham flood his brain, the way his hands crept up his back, your tongue on his skin. Unconsciously, his hand speeds up its pace, slick sounds and stifled lewd moans filling the room the more he thinks about the two of you, the fantasies growing more and more unrestrained.

What would you think if you found out this is how your church’s priest spends his time? Would you berate him? Or would you indulge him? Maybe you’d teach him how to masturbate, your hand covering his own as you guide him on how to stroke your dick while Alhaitham steals kisses from him.

He thinks of your voice whispering lowly into his ear, frighteningly realistic, “We want you, Kaveh.”

Head thrown back, he feels the pressure building up to a peak in him, muscles draw taut as a blinding white-hot pleasure shoots through him, and he cums for the first time in his life ever, the forbidden fruit that he’s denied himself up till now. 

Kaveh struggles to catch his breath after his high, desperately rutting into his hand to ride it out. After he does, he’s instantly filled with an indescribable guilt, rushing into the bathroom to wash off the evidence of his act, staring at his dishevelled appearance in the mirror. 

How could he think of you in such a way? (How could he not?)

The next time he approaches the both of you after mass, he makes sure to do it after most of the crowd has already gone off, leaving the three of you alone. Avoiding your gazes, he starts.

“Apologies to keep the two of you waiting… some of the others had a lot to chat about,” a forced laugh, “But it is in my best interest that I should stop interacting so much with you both.”

You give him a quizzical look and Alhaitham quirks an eyebrow at his words, making him quickly tack on some reassurance, “It’s not the fault of either of you, worry not. And it would be too much for me to get into-”

“Certainly not,” Alhaitham cuts him off, his voice alluring, “It’s fine, you can tell us.”

Unable to stomach the thought of his relationship with you souring and ending on a bad note, he swallows down his fear and invites the two of you to his quarters to come clean about everything.

So, how is it that he’s found himself in this position?

It started out already rather lewdly in your mind. 

Catching wind of a devout priest in town, loved by many, adored by most. Naturally, it was your job as an incubus to corrupt him. And they’ve assigned your lovely junior, Alhaitham, as your partner in sin.

The first meeting went well enough, charming Kaveh without the use of your powers, it seems as if he was as taken with you as you were with him. His lovely blond locks, his sweet voice, that downright sinful waist of his. How long would it take until he would snap and tumble into bed with the two of you so that you could defile him and show him the delectable paradise of ecstasy that he’s been abstaining from?

Over the weeks, you’ve teased Kaveh in the most minute of ways. Sly innuendos tossed in nonchalantly during conversations, lingering touches that you can see him secretly longing for. And perhaps you can’t say that Alhaitham and you aren’t unaffected by his charm too.

The impatience was driving the both of you wild, judging from how uncharacteristically antsy he’s been behaving. You’re no stranger to being intimate with him, indulging him when he gets particularly needy. And you can tell he’s pent up when he’s grinding on your thigh as he kisses you, so spoiled. 

When you break apart, cupping his cheek, you ask, “Think our priest is asleep yet? How about we pay him a little visit?” Snapping your fingers, you transport the two of you into Kaveh’s dream, where you plant the final seeds of temptation and guide him down the blissful path of damnation.

The dream ended way too fast for your liking but it all worked out in the end, since now you’re here, in Kaveh’s room with him seated in your lap facing you.

Kaveh’s mind is spinning, unable to comprehend how fast all this is moving. First, he invites the two of you in to talk everything over in a more private location. Then, everything comes spilling out, his thoughts about you, even the sensual dream. His eyes are pinned to his hands clenched into fists in his lap, in fear that your gazes might be one of disgust towards him. It’s all too much, he’s backed himself into something too raw and too vulnerable and he can’t help when tears well up in his eyes, falling onto his hands.

A quick glance over to Alhaitham, and you pull Kaveh into your lap, an act to console him. Gently moving his head onto your shoulder for him to cry into, you shush him.

“Oh Father Kaveh, please don’t feel so guilty, after all, isn’t it natural to be tempted?” Patting the back of his head, you watch as Alhaitham rises from his seat and moves Kaveh’s long hair aside to brush his lips along the exposed skin of his nape.

“If holding it all in is causing you so much distress,” Alhaitham plants a kiss on Kaveh’s neck, “Perhaps giving in is the answer.”

“...No, I can’t,” Kaveh weeps, yet there’s a hesitation in his voice, as if he’s not fully convinced that he should turn away from the pleasure that you two can bring him.

“No one has to know,” your hands cup the sides of his face and move him so that you can look into his eyes, the sincerity behind them startling him when you say, “We want you, Kaveh.”

The world seems to stop when you say those words, his heart soaring and in the split second, his resistance slips away. He abandons it all for you, for a longing reciprocated, for a tangible love, and he presses his lips onto yours.

He whines into the kiss when you take charge, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip and he gasps. When you enter his mouth, your saliva mixing with his, his breath hitches as his desire suddenly heightens tenfold. You can feel him getting hard in your lap, ever so slightly grinding down without even realising it.

“Will you let us take you apart? Allow us to worship and love you like you deserve? To open your eyes to the true salvation of human pleasure?” 

Kaveh’s drowning in your words, the blessing that the two of you are gracing him with, leaving him bare and naked in his longing.

“Please.”

Soon, you have the blond seated on the edge of his bed and stripped of all his clothing, except for his white clerical collar, which still lays clasped loosely around his neck.

“Look at you Father Kaveh, perhaps mankind was indeed made in God’s image,” you watch on from above him as Alhaitham laves a tongue over Kaveh’s clavicle, “If not, how else would you look so divine?”

He flushes crimson at your praise, bashful at how unaffected you are in this scenario. You move and sit next to him on the bed, unzipping your pants as he watches on with bated breath.

“From your mouth to God’s ear, Father Kaveh, your fantasies have been heard and they’ll be fulfilled today.”

Like him, you’re already hard, precum beading at your tip. Your hand goes to grab his, bringing it over and wrapping it around your shaft. Covering his hand with yours, you entertain his desires, cooing as you slowly start to move his hand, pumping your cock at a steady pace while you savour the sensation of his hand.

Kaveh’s eyes are glued to the sight of you guiding his hand up and down on your length, the warmth of your hand over his own. He’s enraptured until he feels fingers under his chin, tilting his head up and suddenly he’s locking lips with Alhaitham. When he realises that the two of you are actually recreating the scene from his imagination, his mind is left reeling. 

He moans into the kiss with Alhaitham when he feels you throb in his hand, more pre dribbling from your tip.

“You’re so good, Father Kaveh, always so kind, so understanding, hmm?” Your praise gets him so worked up, his hips uselessly rutting up against nothing but something settles onto his lap and presses against his own cock. Cracking his eyes open, he realises that Alhaitham has slotted himself into his space, and breaking away from the kiss so that Kaveh can breathe, he frots his erect hard-on against Kaveh’s.

“Maybe this way I’ll keep your attention on me too,” the grey haired male says, hands going to rest at Kaveh’s hip to steady himself as he ruts.

He can feel his legs shaking as that daunting pressure starts to build inside of him again like before. The pacing of his strokes under your hand begins to falter as he chases after his high, grinding more and more frantically against the man in his lap.

But just as he’s seconds away from reaching his orgasm, Alhaitham clambers out of Kaveh’s space, at the same time, you remove his hand from your body 

The sudden detachment brings him back down from his almost peak, his mind clearing up just enough for him to whine out, “Wh- What was that for?” 

“We’re saving the best for last, Father Kaveh,” you say as the two of you manhandle his pliant body into position.

Alhaitham’s beneath him, hands gripping the headboard as he lays on his back, facing upwards. Alternatively, Kaveh’s on all fours on the bed, hands and knees on either side of Alhaitham with you standing at the foot of his bed, hands firmly gripping onto his hips.

“Are you ready to take us into your heart, to accept us for all that we are,” and you all but purr his name, “Kaveh?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” he begs, desperation akin to a sinner’s prayer. 

“Such a lovely obedient lamb, truly the best one in the flock. I’d say you should finally get a reward for such excellent behaviour,” He gulps at your words, the praise you’re showering him in muddling his thoughts as he anticipates whatever the two of you have planned for him. 

Goosebumps rise on his skin when you trace a blunt nail up his spine. However, the breath is punched from his chest when he looks back down at Alhaitham, pointed horns crowning his head, emerging from his mop of grey hair. His head snaps to look at you over his shoulder where he sees a similar sight. Coiled horns like a ram’s adorn you, leathery unfurled wings, and a long slender tail that’s tipped with a heart at the end.

“My dearest lamb, I ask you once more. Do you take us into your being, to love us for what we are,” your voice takes on a sultry tone, dripping with sinful indulgence, “To let us defile you?”

His head bowed, he dutifully replies, “I offer all of myself up to you.”

And with this, you partake in the feast of him.

Coating your fingers in your thick aphrodisiacal spit, you rest one hand on his ass, spreading him apart as you prod at his rim.

“Relax for me, Father Kaveh, you’re in good hands and we’ll never lead you astray.” You hear him release the breath he’s holding and he untenses, allowing you to slip a finger into him.

“Ah-!” The sensation is unfamiliar but not unwelcome, the stretch gradually turning into a growing pleasure thanks to its aphrodisiac qualities, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled as you prepare him to take you.

A finger loops through his clerical collar and pulls him down. Looks like Alhaitham’s had enough of being ignored. He kisses him like a man starved, teeth clacking noisily as he drinks in Kaveh’s moans.

Taking this opportunity to slip in another finger, your other hand goes to grip his waist, steadying him as he loses himself to the mounting delectation. Scissoring your fingers, it proves to be too much for the inexperienced Kaveh and his legs give out from beneath him, pressing him against Alhaitham’s body.

“Haitham, did you prep yourself beforehand?” He nods briskly at your question. Lowering yourself down so you’re bearing down on Kaveh, you lick the shell of his ear, (he shivers), and ask.

“Do you think Haitham can take you? He’s been waiting for you for so long, he’s even prepared himself for you.”

Between dazed blinks, Kaveh manages to process your words, nodding his head and muttering out a dumb, “Uh- Uh huh.” 

With this, Alhaitham lines his hole up with Kaveh’s drooling cock, and with you pushing down on his hips from above him, Kaveh’s head pushes past Alhaitham rim, a guttural growl leaving your junior’s lips at the sensation of Kaveh sinking into him with your guidance.

“M-Move please…!” Alhaitham groans out when Kaveh doesn’t seem to do anything when he bottoms out inside of him. The lewd heat that surrounds his length overloads his mind, bliss coursing through every vein in his body.

The erotic sight of your two sweethearts under you, the one who’s supposed to be the incubus pleading for sweet salvation from the once-pure, clueless lamb laying above him who’s finally had a taste of the forbidden fruit. Both of them dewy-eyed and left greedily wanting more. It’s easily all too tempting.

You remove your fingers from Kaveh with a wet shlick! before replacing it with your tip at his entrance. As you push into him, the pressure causes him to reach deeper into Alhaitham, resulting in a lascivious harmony of wanton moans in the room.

And when your tip brushes past his prostate for the first time, he can’t help but mewl, “O-Oh God!”

“Rude to call out someone else’s name when- ugh! -you have two incubi pleasuring you right here, Father Kaveh!” Punctuating this with a sharp thrust, you wring a drawn-out cry from Kaveh.

“S-Sorry! For- hng!! -forgive me!” Pitifully sobbing out, he rocks his hips clumsily back against yours, urging you to fully sheathe yourself in him. With his motions, Alhaitham finally gets the stimulation he’s yearned for, as Kaveh moves in time with your thrusts.

Your tail wraps itself around Kaveh’s thigh when you encircle your hands around his slim waist.

“I’ll fuck you so good that you’ll be worshipping me when I’m done with you.”

Pulling out until just your tip is left in him, you position your mouth at his shoulder and when you bite down on his pristine untainted skin, it’s the only warning he gets before you sink your length back into him, all the way down to the hilt.

You’ve left your mark on him, marred him, sullied him, defiled him for all of eternity in the eyes of the church. But Kaveh can’t find it in himself to care, too fucked out from the carnal pleasures he’s wrapped up in right now. The way you pound into him, the way Haitham’s walls squeeze down on him. Who is he to say that this isn’t heaven on earth? Who is he to say that this is damnation?

Perhaps he’s found his God in you.

“Hah! God, please! I’m close- ah! -so so close!” He’s delirious and Alhaitham swears he can almost see the hearts in Kaveh’s eyes.

“Calling me your god now, Father Kaveh?”

“Yesss! Please, I’m s-so close, let me- hng! -finish, God, I beg of you!” Kaveh quivers under you as both him and Alhaitham approach their climax. Their breaths come out in ragged pants as you speed up your pace, also chasing your own peak.

“Then take all I give unto you, Kaveh,” you bury yourself as deep as possible as his walls clamp down on you, his head thrown back in ecstasy as the three of you cum together. The searing rapture rips through him as you fill him up, eyes wrenched shut with him seeing stars behind his eyelids. His lower abdomen feels hot as he cums into Alhaitham, whose eyes have rolled back into his sockets, breath hitching at his orgasm.

You complete it with short shallow thrusts, helping the both of them through the fading waves of pleasure, wringing out the last of their debauched noises. When you pull out of Kaveh, a raspy whine rips from him. Manoeuvring his spent body to lie on his back, you’re pleased to see that the session took, evident from the glowing fuchsia tattoo on his lower abdomen.

Pressing a kiss against it, Kaveh shakes at the increased stimulation. Curious, he peers down at it, ghosting his fingers over it as he watches the tattoo’s glow intensity slowly fade and settle into a faint pink outline.

“The three of us have been unified, we’re bound together now, my dearest lamb.”

Alhaitham lazily rolls over to leave a kiss on Kaveh’s cheek before you pull him in by his clerical collar for a chaste kiss on the edge of his lips.

And suddenly, his Sunday mornings don’t seem so dull anymore. 

[> You add a clerical collar to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

[octuscle]

Cholo Life

“First the damned Democrats stole the elections from us and now they are stealing our identity!” Manolo began to roll his eyes. He was familiar with this. When KJ worked himself into a rage, he sounded like a personal disciple of Trump. ‘I mean that they eat the cats in Springfield and the dogs, it's not just an isolated incident, they do it everywhere!’ ‘Kyle…’ Manuel began. KJ gave Manolo a friendly punch on the shoulder. He knew that when Manuel called him “Kyle,” Manolo was angry. “Of course I don't mean you,” said KJ. “You're an American through and through, you're American as peanut butter!” Of course that wasn't true. Manolo was born in Lima, went to school in Lima, and only came to Minnesota with his parents at the age of eight. But his parents had placed great importance on him learning the language quickly, and today Manolo speaks better English than his best friend from school days, KJ.

Kj, on the other hand, was a prime example of a junior at an American college: muscular, bright eyes, fair complexion, of course he played American football, and of course he parroted what Trump said without thinking. Yes, he was damn good-looking, but yes, he was also a real airhead. And even though olu secretly had a crush on KJ, KJ was out of reach for Manolo. You couldn't be more straighter than KJ.

KJ was studying business. With a bit of luck, he would at least get his bachelor's degree. Manolo had already graduated from high school two years before KJ and was about to get his bachelor's degree in biochemistry. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, who ran the research department of a seed company here. KJ, on the other hand, would join his father's trucking company and would alternate between driving trucks on the highways and struggling with the accounting in the office.

“Besides, you yourself admitted that you eat pets. You said that your grandmother serves guinea pigs.” ”Yes, but first of all, my grandmother doesn't steal the guinea pigs from some guys in Ohio, but has her cook buy and prepare them at the market, and secondly, guinea pigs are a delicacy where we come from. We find it rather absurd that you…” “All fake news!” KJ countered. ”Admit that the whole world would be in ruins without the USA. Our culture is simply superior!” There were situations in which Manolo was annoyed at being physically inferior to KJ. There were situations in which he just wanted to smash KJ's face in. It was really crazy that a guy who already classified cartoons as art wanted to lecture him on culture. His abuela had once given him a lucky charm that he always carried in his pocket. In situations like this, squeezing the stone firmly helped him. It drained the anger out of him. But this time was different. The stone became warm. The stone became hot! Manolo let go of it. He reached for the cold coke glass to cool his hand.

“Are you okay, hermano?” KJ asked. Manolo winced. That was the first time KJ had used a Spanish word correctly. ‘Would you order me another tequila? ¡Tengo que mear!’ Manolo looked after his friend. He had never drunk tequila before. KJ was also a feast for the eyes from behind. The torn jeans clung to his firm ass. His shoulders were broad. He was muscular. But not exaggerated. And his patriotic tattoos emphasized his masculinity. Manolo waved at the waitress and ordered two tequilas. He didn't usually drink. But maybe he could stand KJ better today if he was a little drunk.

The tequila arrived before KJ. And when KJ sat down, Manolo was playing with his cell phone. KJ took his tequila glass. “A nuestra salud y amistad, hermano” “A nuestra salud y amistad, KJ” Manolo replied distractedly, picked up the glass and was about to toast. He was frozen for a few seconds. What the hell had happened to Kyle? The smooth cheeks were covered by a hint of a beard. His tattoos had expanded. And now they had a lot more space too. Because KJ's muscles had almost exploded. His slender neck, with the Adam's apple whose movements always made Manolo so horny, had become a bull's neck tattooed all over. “Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost,” KJ said. His English had a slight Spanish accent. And there was a tear tattooed under his one eye. Manolo ordered two more tequilas… Their conversation turned into Spanglish gibberish. And at some point into Spanish. KJ got terribly worked up about the gringos. In doing so, he accidentally knocked his trucker cap off his head. He picked up a bandana and tied it around his head. KJ's gaze became somehow different. While they were talking, he played with his nipples more and more. He looked at Manolo more intensely. Somehow… lustfully? “Tengo que ir al baño otra vez. ¿Y no te gustaría venir conmigo?” KJ stood up. He was a muscleman. His tight-fitting tank top emphasized his muscles even more. With every twitch of the muscles, the tattoos moved, creating a real cartoon. His ass looked phenomenal in the pleated pants. If Manolo had to create a wank fantasy, this is what it would look like. And now the wank fantasy was telling him to follow him to the restrooms. Damn it! KJ looked like a real cholo. And he was a square college student in khakis and a button-down. Manolo hesitated for a moment. And then he followed KJ. KJ? Why “KJ”? I have no idea when the nickname developed. César Jesus should have been called CJ. But some stupid gringo hadn't understood that in elementary school. And so he had eventually become KJ. And the nickname stuck.

KJ was standing at the urinal. Manolo could see from behind that he was about to jerk off. Even though they had known each other since childhood, he had never seen KJ's cock. KJ's father had the typical conglomerate that enterprising wetbacks build. He had a few trucks that he used to transport goods or help with removals, he owned a few cafes, a laundry… And KJ was supposed to take over this small local empire at some point. His parents had always hoped that the friendship with the clever and ambitious Manolo would have a positive effect on KJ. But KJ had always been the type to hang out with the bad boys. And who could blame him? He looked just as brutal and manly as his father.

Manolo stood next to César at the urinal. César pretended not to notice Manolo. His tattooed hand jerked his cock, which was also covered in tattoos. It was a monster that offered almost as much surface area for artistic decoration as Manolo's thin forearm. César pushed up his tank top with his other hand, revealing his granite abs and finally his nipples. He played with his right nipple with his left hand. And Manolo, whose cock was almost as hard as César's muscles, couldn't help but suck on the left nipple. “Siempre supe que detrás de la fachada de empollón se escondía una zorrita,” César moaned. He let go of his nipple and pushed Manolo gently but firmly onto his knees. And Manolo greedily licked the precum from César's gleaming glans. This beast was not the first cock he sucked. But it was the biggest. And its owner was the one he wanted to satisfy more than anyone before. They had been like dissimilar brothers. Now he wanted to be this giant's whore. And César obviously wanted him to be his whore. He enjoyed the blow job and moaned loudly enough to signal to anyone who wanted to use the toilet that it was occupied. Manolo sucked César's cock and jerked his own. Both came almost simultaneously. It was impossible for Manolo to swallow all of César's cum. And his own cum splashed onto his shirt. Exhausted, he fell back. César was breathing heavily, too. “Necesitas una camisa nueva, hermanito,” he said. Manolo certainly couldn't go out like that. César took off Manolo's shirt and wiped his cum-smeared face with it. Then he took off his sweaty tank top. It was a bit difficult because it couldn't be easily pulled over his muscular body. He handed it to Manolo. Of course it was too big. But it felt good. And César would make sure that he would fill it out better soon. Today two men became real cholos.

Pics by @ki-kink

[cherryrikis]

SWEET LATTE

PAIRING non idols yang jungwon x fem reader

WARNINGS none

GENRE fluff

SYNOPSIS you and jungwon decide to get a cat. and he loves it more than he’d admit.

despite the two of you being incredibly allergic, you somehow managed to convince jungwon to let you get a cat, since maeum has been with his parents.

so you did. you brought it home. but now you were clueless on what to do, since you both were dog people.

“is it.. dead?” he asked, gently poking the chubby kitten.

“no wonnie, it’s not dead! he’s just sleeping!” you swatted his hand away before scooping up the kitty and holding it in your arms.

as soon as your new pet felt it being lifted off the surface, he immediately woke up, snuggling closer into your grasp. holding the cat out to your boyfriend, he hesitated to pet it, you literally had to bring his hand up for him.

but as soon as jungwon made contact with the cat, “achoo!” he sneezed out loud.

“this was a terrible idea.” he sniffled, wiping his nose with a tissue.

“well you’re gonna have to watch him when i go to the office in.. an hour.” you informed, checking your phone for the time.

“what? you’re working today? i can’t take care of it alone!”

you shrugged in response, before turning back to the kitty in your arms. “you’re so cute!” you cooed. “i’m gonna name you latte!” and immediately, you continuously pecked the top of latte’s head as he purred.

“latte? really? that’s so basic.” jungwon grimaced as he looked at the little beige cat. it was a scottish fold with white spots. “i know it’s basic, but i can’t resist! he’s just the sweetest thing ever.”

“am i no longer your favorite sweet thing?” he joked, playfully pouting as you placed latte in his arms.

“the sweetest,” you gave him a long kiss on the lips before pulling away. “so don’t be like that. i’m gonna go get ready now.” you smiled.

“what am i gonna do with you?” jungwon sighed, staring at latte as he crawled across the couch when they finally sat back down.

by the time you came home, you absolutely were not expecting the sight in front of you. hurrying to take a warm shower, you wrapped your hair in a towel before going to sit next to jungwon in the living room.

you laughed as your boyfriend dangled his keys above latte’s head, the cat reaching out it’s paws tirelessly.

you leaned into jungwon, laying your head on his shoulder as he continued to play with your new child.

“oh jungwon..” you gasped, using your hand to turn his head so he could face you. you examined his red face, his eyes puffy from his allergies.

“it’ll go away later. i took medicine.”

“guess you love him don’t you?” “of course.” he sighed.

“and latte is just so sweet isn’t he?”

“the sweetest.”

“i think he has your eyes.” you point out, comparing the two as you often switched your gaze. “he’s like our little baby.”

“you’re saying i’m a cat?” jungwon raised a brow.

“maybe. i’m also saying our future daughter would look a lot like you.” you shrugged.

“what?” his eyes widened, fully turning to you in shock, “you’d really be willing to start a family with me?”

“of course. i mean, not too soon obviously, we’re only 20. but in the future, i think we’d make really good parents.” you smiled.

jungwon’s heart swelled, and his face ran hot (not just as an allergic reaction).

“my heart is so full right now.” he sighed, taking one hand off the cat to hug your waist as you wrapped your arms around his bicep.

“you’d be a great mother, and a gorgeous wife. also, i totally think we’re gonna have a son.” he whispered.

“daughter.” “son.”

“if we have a son, we should name him-” “i am not naming my son after the cat.” jungwon mumbled.

“whatever.” you grumbled.

“anyway. i can’t believe we got to talk about all this because of a cat. i guess they really are lucky.” he chuckled, leaning further into you as you held him tighter.

“guess that makes you my lucky charm then, doesn’t it?”

“guess so..” jungwon licked his lips, before leaning his head down to kiss you softly.

enjoy this fic? read similar works here!

[bloggerspam]

Cozytober - Borrowing A Sweatshirt

Ellie, like Danny, isn't really bothered by the cold.

She is a spirit of the wind, a ghost of swift winds and open air and places seen, places to be, places yet to know.

She is no stranger to freezing temperatures, but unlike Danny she is also intimately familiar with the scorching heat—of desert lands and arid concrete, burning tableaus where she can hardly even believe plants can thrive, of hot engines and the smell of searing rubber.

She is cold blooded, she is hot blooded, she is air itself, twisting and turning and roaming and sometimes stagnant and stale.

She floats like that today, in Jazz's apartment, waiting.

It is not in her nature to wait, but she was born waiting for her moment, and she fought her way out of waiting, and she is willing to weather the floaty stasis if only to feel the love and comfort and her only tethers to the earthly world: her family.

Danny will arrive soon, and he will probably indulge her on a flight around town until Jazz gets off from work, but until then:

Waiting.

It is neither cold, nor warm in Jazz's apartment. Outside it is freezing, but she has just come a jaunt through the summers of Africa so her equilibrium is still adjusting.

The heat isn't on, but it's insulated. It would be uncomfortable for Jazz, but it is not for Ellie or Danny.

It is a limbo, and she floats in it, sluggish and sleepy in the quiet.

Two more hours.

Her arms start to rub up and down, she curls into a loose sort of ball, and she spins, slow, in low gravity of her own making.

The dust motes flicker, and suddenly the apartment feels cavernous.

She forces herself to stretch, to fill as much space as she can, twisting and turning and restless.

One hour and 48 more minutes.

She might go crazy.

She twirls, diving towards the kitchen, finding nothing but tofu and vegetables, still uncooked. She's not opposed too tofu and veggies, but she also did not learn how to cook, so she makes the clearly correct decision to not mess about.

Her internal temperature fluctuates, again, and a shiver wracks through her. Hm.

Idea.

She floats up and zooms towards where the guest bedroom is, rummaging for through the drawers, finding mostly Danny's tee shirts and jeans.

There's a purple scrunchie, and a baggy black tee shirt with skulls and roses on it, and an absurdly big pair of shorts with fire patterns all over it, but no…aha!

She pulls out a firetruck red hoodie, shaking out and slipping it on.

It's big on her, but not overly so, so it must not be Dan's or Jazz's. Sam and Danny would never wear such a bright, ketchup-y color, so it must be Tucker's. the fabric is soft and thick, fuzzy on the inside, smooth on the outside. She snuggles into the collar, smelling machine oil and that weird cologne he insists on. Thankfully, it's only a hint, and Ellie's had a couple of years to get used to it, so she sinks into the comfort of it.

Inspecting the hoodie reveals a retro 70s font, wavy and bubbly, that proudly pronounces her "Furry Trash." She snorts, wondering if Sam or Danny got Tucker this hoodie, or if he bought it himself. With Tucker, you never know.

Flipping up the hood reveals it even has some cat ears, and Ellie is tickled absolutely pink as she floats around, spinning and snickering into the soft fabric.

She goes to press the drawer closed, but then something catches her eye.

It's a Gameboy Color, a beat up bright yellow one. It's got a faded wolf sticker on the back, with Tucker's name sloppily written in sharpie. Ellie is delighted that when she boots it up, it still has a green light to denote it's got full battery.

She wasn't alive during this time, but she remembers it through the haze of Danny's memories, and the tangential nostalgia is enough to maker her shut the drawer and move to the living room with her new loot.

Tetris loads up with a series of cheery low quality pings. The speaker must be slightly busted from age.

Tucker's got the top 3 highest scores, followed by Sam and Danny in fourth and fifth respectively.

She smirks, feeling settled and comfy and warm, and decides that maybe it's time she's better at her template at something.

When Danny floats through the floor later, Ellie is cursing up a storm and about to throw something. He laughs at her, at the source of frustration and at her hoodie, until he's blue in the face. She reminds him petulantly that he doesn't actually need to breathe, but graciously goes on that flight with him despite his rudeness anyway.

When Jazz gets home, she gives Ellie a big smile and hug, quirks and eyebrow at the hoodie, but says nothing about it.

This is why she's the favorite.

Ellie works on that high score to the sound of Jazz's soft cheering and Danny's obnoxious jeering, and it's good.

She decides that the hoodie is hers, and the Gameboy will be in her custody until her next visit, much to Danny's amusement. He gives her a bear hug to end all bear hugs, and Jazz gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she's off.

She beats Danny's score two days later, sitting on tippy top of the Taj Mahal. She beats Sam's score hanging off the hour hand of Big Ben the next day.

The Golden Gate Bridge (and Karl the Fog) witnesses her victory over Tucker's second place high score, her shouts of glee echoing over the morning Bay.

She's sitting on the Arc de Triumph when she finally does it, jumping up and down and squealing as she clutches the Gameboy to her chest like a precious trophy.

She loads the portal gun and dives, dropping directly into Tucker's room in the shared apartment he, Sam and Danny live in.

She lands heavily on Tucker's bed, which is unfortunately occupied by the man himself, but he'll get over it, she's light!

"Oof! Wha—Ellie?" The man grumbles, a quick glance telling Ellie it's 2am in the morning. She's surprised he's asleep at this time, but is too elated to really register the thought.

She shoves the Dameboy and the high score screen into Tucker's bleary face the second he has his glasses on.

"I beat it!!" She yells, laughing and joyous.

"What?" Tucker says, rubbing his face and looking again. It takes him a few seconds that last ages, and her yell must have woken the others, because by the time Sam and Danny barge in, Tucker has a soft but wide smile on his face.

"Hell yeah Little D!" He says, and even though he has morning breath she doesn't care because he gives her a big bear hug and Danny and Sam join and it's a big rolling pile of limbs and love and family.

"Bet you can't beat it!" Ellie finally says, in the middle of the sudden cuddle pile and feeling tethered but free, like she always does when she's got another connection to her family.

"You're on!" Tucker challenges, grabbing the Gameboy in one hand and ruffling her hair with the other.

"But first, sleep." Sam admonishes, ever the sensible one. "Ellie, what are you even wearing?"

Sam grabs Ellie by the back of her collar, holding her up effortlessly like a little kitten.

Tucker finally registers his hoodie on her, and promptly bursts into laughter.

Ellie sniffs, but she can't hold her own grin. "It's called fashion, Sam, look it up!"

[outofconcheol]

friends forever? (lmh x f!reader)

pairing: Minho x reader (afab)

genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst if you squint, brief smut, established relationship, 18+

summary: Minho has the difficult task of wooing someone very important to you.

warnings: CATS, a very confused Minho, swearing, mentions breakups, mentions periods, just lots of feels ok, smut warnings: brief oral (f receiving), kissing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: Where are all my cat people at? this idea came to me today and it was so cute i almost passed out (jk I did actually pass out today). i really said enough of Minho wooing reader, i want to see this man woo a cat and i made it happen! Also Lulu is one of my nicknames for my cat (but he's a boy). this is very unedited, I wrote it in like an hour but I hope you enjoy!

It’s past midnight when Minho notices the eyes for the first time. They peer at him from the endless darkness of the hallway and he looks around nervously, wondering if he should say something. In the corner of his eye, he can see you rustling around in the kitchen, cabinets opening and closing as you try to find some snacks for the both of you. If there’s an intruder in your apartment, you don’t seem perturbed, humming quietly to yourself.

He wonders if this is some kind of test from the universe, if some evil spirit’s been sent down so that he, as your newly-minted boyfriend, can prove that he’s brave and worthy of protecting you. But before he can whip out his ghost-busting skills, your sock-clad feet are padding towards him on the couch, a surprised gasp leaving your lips.

“Oh! I see you’ve met Lulu.”

Minho blinks once, twice, before following the sound of your voice, looking down over the edge of the couch. 

Those same eyes from the hallway blink up at him. It’s a cat. Your cat, fluffy fur and all, looking at Minho through narrowed eyes.

Immediately, he softens, silently relieved that he wouldn’t have to slay any demons tonight. Minho loved cats. He had three of his own waiting at home. He slides off the couch, dropping to his knees, extending an arm out.

“Hi there Lulu, I’m Minho. Nice to meet you.”

Lulu cocks her head, taking a few seconds to look Minho over, assessing him from head to toe. And then she… remains completely still, refusing to budge and accept the offer to smell Minho’s hand. Minho feels his heart drop, arm still outstretched with the hope that she’ll change her mind, but to no avail.

“Babe,” Minho zips his head in your direction, and you offer him a comforting squeeze to his arm. “Lulu takes a while to warm up to new people, it’s nothing personal. She never liked any of my exes.”

You giggle, pulling Minho back onto the couch with you so he can rest his head in your lap while you start the movie. Minho tries to focus on the film, but his mind remains elsewhere, darting over to the side where he sees Lulu sitting next to the couch. Eventually, she jumps up onto the cushions to join you, snuggling into your side, but maintaining a safe distance from Minho.

Minho resists the urge to overthink the interaction from earlier. He knew better than anyone that cats were temperamental beings, and that they required extra love and attention. So what if Lulu never warmed up to any of your exes? She’d warm up to him eventually, because he planned on sticking around for a long time. 

If you asked Minho the key to winning a cat’s heart, he’d tell you time. And maybe lots of treats. But mostly time. He thought time would be enough to heal the frosty first impression he’d left on Lulu, but every time he was over at your place, there she was around the corner, mean-mugging and making him feel guilty for crimes he didn’t commit.

He didn’t want to worry you with his silly beef with your cat, knowing that you loved her and she’d helped you through many hard times. 

So Minho, being the amazing boyfriend he was, tried to tackle the problem on his own.

He started with treats of course. The sizeable dent in his wallet from owning three cats only became all the more palpable when he’d buy an extra box from the pet store every week, hoping to woo over Miss Lulu with the five-star meal of some pureed chicken in a tube.

Lulu stared down the tube like it was a foreign object, before slapping her fluffy tail against Minho’s face, turning on her heels, and walking away.

She had the same reaction to the freeze-dried treats he tried the week after.

Then he theorized that maybe Lulu was averse to the smell of his own cats on him. So Minho kept an extra pair of clothes in his car all the time, one he’d change into before coming over. When he knocked at the door, he was met with your dazzling smile, cupping his face to press your lips to his, but as soon as it was over he caught sight of Princess Lulu running down the hallway away from him.

Months passed with Minho doing everything he could wrap his mind around what he could do win over the second most important person in your life (after him, of course). He’d even powered through a tense meeting between Lulu and Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, worried that his sons would scare her away, or even worse, hurt her, and that would be the end of you and Minho. But much to his surprise, Lulu played happily with the boys, even letting Dori tackle her and lick her fur.

And so began Minho’s mutual grudge against your cat. He did his best to hide it, but the lack of acceptance from Lulu was getting to him, like an arrow through his heart. He wondered if he could survive years by your side with a cat that hated him, but one look at your sparkly eyes and pretty smile told him that yes, this was worth it. You were worth it.

So Lulu ignored Minho. And Minho ignored Lulu. And both of them continued on in their own little worlds, centered around you. 

Minho slams his lips against yours, pushing you up against the door of your bedroom, smirking when he feels your lips part in a soft moan. The two of you make out lazily against the door for a few moments, until you’re both breathless and panting, Minho stepping back to admire the handiwork he’d left on your neck, the angry marks disappearing underneath the neckline of your shirt. 

Minho runs his thumb over your lip, watching your eyes go dark with desire, and in no time at all, you’re pinned underneath him on the bed, legs dangling with Minho in between them. He wastes no time diving in, eating you out with fervor until you’re writhing against his face, a wave of pleasure building inside you.

Only for it all to come crashing down seconds later, when he suddenly stops. You let out a pathetic whine, running your fingers through Minho’s hair while he remains crouched in between your thighs.

“Min, baby what’s wrong?” you lift his chin up so he’s looking at you, and the look in his eyes is so starkly different from a few minutes ago, his face pale.

“She’s watching us,” he whispers, like he’s seen a ghost.

You follow his line of sight to the top of the dresser, where Lulu is now perched, tail tucked underneath her butt, eyes narrowing at you and Minho.

“Just ignore her, babe,” you nudge his head between your legs again. Minho gives a few tentative licks to your folds, but lets out a heavy sigh, sitting back on his knees.

“I can’t.” And he looks so unbelievably guilty it makes your heart melt. You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, before throwing on his discarded shirt, softly padding over to where Lulu rests.

“Hey pretty girl,” you coo at her, cradling her in your arms. “How about we go drink some water, huh?”

Minho sits on the edge of the bed, legs crossed and head in his hands. He doesn’t hear you come back inside, jumping slightly when you throw your arms around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“She doesn’t hate you,” your voice is muffled, nuzzling your nose against his jaw.

“She does,” Minho whines, trying not to let his voice break. “She literally won’t accept any treats from me. Every time you have period cramps, she glares at me like she’s saying “It’s your fault, asshole.” She even plays with Changbin more than me. And he’s allergic! She hates me and you’re going to break up with me because I can’t get along with your cat.”

“Why would I break up with you, silly?” you giggle. “I love you.”

Minho grabs you by the shoulders, cupping your cheeks in his hands, shock on his face.

“Y-you do?”

You nod your head, reaching up to grab his hand with your own.

“I love you, Lee Minho. And Lulu too. My heart is big enough for both of you.”

Minho feels better after that night, his anxieties melting away, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can survive this impasse with Lulu.

Until you ask him to do the unthinkable.

“Please Minho? It’s just for one night.” you beg him. Something urgent had come up for work, and you needed to take an overnight trip to handle it. Which meant Minho had to stay home with Lulu.

Minho wants to protest, saying the little brat will be fine, but then you pout. And it’s game over. He’s agreeing before he can think it through.

So you leave, the door clicking behind you, and Minho sits on the couch, Lulu across the room from him, the two of them staring each other down much like the first time they’d met. He takes meticulous care to fill up her food bowl and clean out her litter box, his heart doing a flutter when she doesn’t refuse either.

But she remains at her safe distance, and Minho is alone on the couch, missing the warmth of your presence next to him. He clicks through a few tv channels, before turning the TV off, throwing his hoodie on and slipping out onto your balcony, making sure to leave the door slightly ajar in case something happened to Lulu.

He sits with his knees curled to his chest, watching the city lights twinkle, until he hears a soft whine. He turns to see Lulu across from him on the balcony, maintaining her healthy distance, but staring at him with curious eyes.

“You’re a tough nut to crack Lulu, you know that?” Minho blurts out. “I just wish you’d like me, kiddo. I try so hard for you. And for your mom.”

He leans back against the railing, letting out a heavy sigh, and the words keep pouring out.

“I love her a lot. Like a lot a lot. I think I’m probably gonna marry her someday. And then we’ll be stuck together whether you like it or not.”

Minho closes his eyes, wondering what the future would hold for the two of them, when he feels it. The soft brush of fur against his leg, and then tiny vibrations.

He blinks his eyes open, and Lulu is nestled against his leg, soft purrs coming from her as she burrows her nose into Minho’s sweaptants.

Tears prick at the corner of Minho’s lids as he fights every bone in his body not to jump for joy. He reaches over, softly stroking Lulu between her ears, and chuckles when her tiny mouth drops open.

“Of course. The only thing you love more than attention is ____. I should have known.”

He stays impossibly still, battling against the ache in his leg, his eyes growing heavy with sleep. 

That’s how you find him in the morning, still cuddled up to Lulu. You smile softly, grabbing a blanket from the couch to throw over Minho while you work on breakfast for him and Lulu, finally content that the two most important people in your world love each other as much as they love you.

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[coralinnii]

congratulations on the 2.7k followers 🎉🎉 you really deserve it^^ you're writing is just so good and amazing i'm so happy more people recognise your talent <3 (also i really like the fact that you opened your requests for 27h it's really a fun way to remember that you got 2.7k followers hhhh)

So i'd like to request, if it's alright with you, yuu staying at crewel's or train's place during the holidays and the messages they exchange with (riddle, ruggie, vil, epel) , just yuu having a long distance relationship with the boys if it makes sense!! you can make it platonic or romantic, I don't mind either as long as you have fun writing it ^-^

thank you in advance and again congratulations, i'm really happy for you! have a nice day <3

❋ It Doesn’t Matter Where I Am, I’m Yours ❋

↳ long-distance relationship with him over the holidays

feat: Riddle ⭑ Ruggie ⭑ Vil ⭑ Epel

genre: fluffy romance

note: no pronouns used with the reader, established relationships, reader is implied to be Yuu since Grim comes with them, reader is staying with Crewel in Riddle and Ruggie’s ver. and with Trein in Vil and Epel’s ver., nicknames are used as terms of endearment (rose and my love in Riddle’s ver., sweet lil thing in Ruggie’s ver., sweet potato in Vil’s ver.,)

How did I choose who reader stays with? With a coin flip and it somehow worked out this way :p Hope you enjoy it!

2.7K Followers Writing Event

Riddle’s mother insisted he returned home and Professor Crewel offered demanded that you stay with him over the holidays after finding out that the cafeteria ghosts would be gone throughout the break.

If you two were still new into the relationship, Riddle was anxious over this separation, he's gotten used to the routine of seeing you every day and he can't imagine a day without you, let alone a month. The sweet redhead insisted you keep in contact with him every day, no matter what.

He knew that his mother would set him a schedule filled to the minute with studies and magic practice but he managed to convince her to give him 30 minutes with his phone, in the guise of keeping updated with his dormmates as the Housewarden. He may even try to wake up a little earlier just to text you good morning

teenage rebellion?

But Riddle is not the most familiar with texting slang and lingo, being the type to write out every message with proper grammar, spelling, and explanation points.

At first, he sounded like, albeit sweet, a daily weather update. Riddle once read in a book that a good conversation starter is “Nice weather we have” and just went with it.

As the days went by, Riddle has gotten more comfortable and soon the 30 minutes doesn’t seem enough for him. He wants to tell you more about his hometown (even if he couldn’t leave his home), mention how Trey and Chenya would occasionally sneak a visit, even little tidbits of something he learned from his studies you might find interesting, anything to spend time with you.

If you send him random videos you found online, Riddle would be so confused and won’t understand the humour of it but will text you it was funny just to make you happy (this precious confused child).

Whenever Riddle unintentionally texts you something sweet, Crewel gives you an exasperated look your way as your joyous gushing would startle the puppies.

But Crewel sighs with a little smile on his lips and let you be, better Riddle than those trouble-making Heartslabyul duo. At least with Grim, his trained dogs can keep him in check while the two of you are here.

Riddle is incredibly happy to be able to speak with you everyday but secretly he’s mentally counting the days when he could see you again at school.

His messages

“Good morning, Rose. Today is forecasted to be windy where you are. Be sure to stay warm”

“The cat is adorable. However, I do not understand what is a “blep”.”

“Grim was reprimanded by Crewel and his dogs for trying to steal extra snacks? Perhaps Heartslabyul should adopt a few as well”

“It’s already 2 minutes before I must get ready for sleep? It’s unfortunate but I must go for today. Good night, my love. I will greet you first thing in the morning”

Ruggie was surprised that you were going to stay with Professor Crewel this holiday break but he was going to be busy with seasonal part-time jobs anyway so he wasn’t planning on visiting you (Crewel would’ve sent his dogs on him if he did, anyway).

Due to his irregular work schedules, you couldn’t predict when Ruggie would text you. Different part-time jobs would give him different break times so you and Grim could be helping Crewel to feed his puppies and suddenly you had to hide the cute text your boyfriend sent you from a suspicious Crewel.

“Pup, who was that?”

“Just Ruggie…don’t look, it’s embarrassing!”

Ruggie may even write over-the-top lovey-dovey messages to you, partly to annoy Crewel, but mostly because he does mean them

But sometimes Ruggie would get too tuckered out to text you and would apologize for not replying as soon as he could the next day.

It’s understandable, though. Which is why you tried to text more to lift his spirits, so that everytime he opens up his messages, he reads your little motivational messages.

“Don’t forget to eat lots, my hardworking hyena! I’m so proud of you <3”

Ruggie’s coworkers won’t get a single explanation to Ruggie’s sudden burst of energy in the second half of the day, nor his wagging tail. But they can guess that is something to do with you, judging by the goofy smile the hyena beastman has on throughout his shift.

His grandmother is very aware of your presence in Ruggie’s life, not that he’s very subtle. She sees the way Ruggie gets a toothy grin so early in the morning just by looking at his phone, or the way his ears perk up when his phone vibrates.

His messages

“Mornin’, sweet lil thing. How’s life with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy? Shyehehe, wouldn’t be surprised if he gave ya some homework while ya there”

“Grandma made some of her famous donuts. When we come back, I’ll make some for ya so look forward it”

“The kids are badgering me to show ‘em the pic of ya. Even Grandma is curious! She wanna know who’s been making me so happy so…do ya mind?”

“It’s weird. Even with my work and the kids, I still feel kinda bored. I wanna see ya soon. I can’t believe that I might want school to actually open sooner”

Holidays would be a busy time for Vil. Even if he specified that he’s prioritizing his studies, he would occasionally agree to a gig or two, just to ensure he stays relevant in the business.

Funnily enough, Professor Trein offered to house you during the holidays since his wife heard that you were spending the holidays all alone in your depreciated dorm (what’s the difference with any other day, though?) and wouldn’t let that be. Both Trein and Vil live in the Shaftlands but it was still miles away from each other and with Vil’s busy life, you couldn’t really see each other over the break.

Cautious of his situation, Vil is careful with when and where he is when he’s messaging. It’s not that his agency would ever let anybody with ill intentions come close to him, but he doesn’t want to drag into this world where social vultures could harm you.

Vil’s texts are professional but always sweet and filled with concern for you. Asking you how was your day, if you have eaten yet, and if you remembered to take care of yourself (then reprimand you if you did forget).

In the comfort of his home, Vil would video call you as he does his skincare routine, content with listening to you as you tell him about your day and talking about the most random things, because you look so beautiful to him when you do.

If you gush about how amazing the Shaftlands was as Trein and his wife showed you and Grim around, Vil would entertain the thought of showing you around his hometown with you. Just the two of you.

One day, Vil’s father was passing by as the two of you were on your video calls which is when Vil finally introduces you to his father. The older man is pleased to finally meet the one who’s making his son so happy and even excited to return to school. Vil chose not to comment on this.

His messages

“It may not be as cold there as it is here, but be sure to put on your moisturizer. Just because I’m not there to take care of you doesn’t mean you have a day off, sweet potato”

“Oh, you saw my interview this afternoon? Well of course, I was nothing short of pure elegance. But thank you, my dear. I truly appreciate your kind words. Hmm? Of course, I will tell you my next appearance”

“Sweet potato, your eyes seem tired today. Are you alright? You stayed up watching movies? Good grief, I told you how bad that was…you were watching my early works? …That is no excuse, we can watch them together when we return to college”

“Professor Trein told you and Grim that you could visit my town sometime next week? Hmm, I will discuss with my agent and I will show you around myself. Hmm? No, it’s no trouble. What inconsiderate man would think a date with his beloved would be trouble. I will see you soon”

Epel was surprised that you were actually going to be closer than he realized when you told him that you were staying with Professor Trein and his family over the break.

However, Trein’s town still isn’t exactly close and Epel was going to help out his family on the farm throughout the break anyway so the two of you couldn’t meet up as much as you really wanted to.

Texting while he was working outside wasn’t easy with the gloves Epel had to deal with so he opted with taking pictures, voice messages, and video calls whenever he could. He sends you pictures of some of the newly harvested apples and raves over the great harvest this year, which you found absolutely adorable (but you kept that to yourself).

He tried his very best to be sneaky about his calls to you though, because the townspeople would tease him and gush about young love whenever they catch him sending messages on the job.

“Look at my lil’ apple. All grown up an’ smitten”

“Grandma!”

It wasn’t any less embarrassing on your end as Trein’s daughters were also staying during the holidays and quickly caught you on your phone leaving cute messages for Epel. They’ve taken up the older sister role and lovingly grill you over your relationship.

“Does he give you flowers or chocolates? No? Hmph, how disappointing”

“He may be a hard worker, but if he isn’t a gentleman, he’s not husband material!”

The sisters were only a little bit impressed when after you jokingly told Epel about that embarrassing conversation, there was a crate of genuine Harveston apple juice. Atop of the crate, there was a note formally wishing the Trein family well and thanking them for taking care of you.

Epel may have wanted to prove to you he can be a man, but now he also wants to prove he’s a gentleman…and also husband material.

His messages

“Is it cold where ya are? Be sure to get real cozy and warm. Huh, Grim’s been complaining? Haha, Shaftlands chills ain’t no joke”

“The town’s real happy about the harvest this season. Gonna be another year of delicious foods this time around. I really wanna share with ya when we get back to school”

“Do you like the apple juice I sent ya? It’s made with the apples I picked myself, you know. Gotta only be the best for ya afterall”

“Grandma has been naggin’ to bring ya over to visit. To be honest…I want that too. I miss ya a lot”

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... SOMEONE (Danny) had a PANIC ATTACK (it was warranted) and now he's laying low and trying not to move.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

There’s a green guy in his room.

Danny keeps eating his mush. There’s mush apple in it today, for variety. It’s probably triple-pasteurized applesauce, but it’s something, and Danny’ll appreciate it while it lasts.

The green guy and the lady are talking. Danny is happy to ignore them—they’re quiet, and careful, even if they’re trying not to act too suspicious or too quiet. Danny has the sneaking suspicion that he’s supposed to be getting used to his presence. Like a cat meeting another cat, or something.

The thing is, Danny kind of remembers him—but his brain’s been so loopy and weird, it’s kind of…hard to be certain? There are some memories of pain, and some memories of stress, and…maybe he was there for one of his star-walks? Danny thinks?

His memories are all mush. Since waking up here, Danny’s been more confused the more he’s become aware.

He sticks his spoon in his mouth.

Hello, the green guy tries, flexing some oddly solid aura, but Danny’s very busily ignoring him; the television has another news segment on weather in places Danny’s never seen, and he’s trying really hard to remember what the extra letters actually sound like.

There’s, like, an ampersand in the middle of words here. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I would like to talk, the not-ghost says without speaking, which is how Danny knows he’s not human. He doesn’t feel like a ghost, per se, and Danny’s breath is normal and as warm as his body can arrange it. It’s still weird though, since he clearly wants to communicate in some way, and Danny just.

He digs his teeth into the plastic spoon. It’ll leave little tooth-shaped dents. He focuses very firmly on the television spot. There are so many towns. Some of them have very silly names. One of them is having an asteroid shower, if Danny trusts his understanding of the icons they’re using.

Asteroids are cool. There’s a couple shots of the sky and a projected time at 8pm in some time zone. Maybe he can get the fast kid to tell his medical team he wants to see them. Maybe they’ll actually let him out of his room at night to watch…?

A hand gently fans at his sleeve so that the breeze jostles the fabric just a little bit. It’s a signal Danny’s gotten used to—a non-verbal, attention-grabbing signal that doesn’t require physical touch.

Danny looks. The lady waves.

He huffs.

“Licie,” the lady asks gently, but firmly. It’s a pretty insistent Please.

Please be polite with the guests, Danny. Your father loves Vlad, so please be nice, Danny.

…Danny doesn’t quite roll his eyes but he does. Look away. He doesn’t want to talk to them. Boundaries aren’t so… Empathic beings are…

“Do I have to?” he asks, and then remembers. Right. Different language. “Ic sceal?”

“Licie. Pleese.”

Danny’s face scrunches up. All the scarring his face probably has pulls taut. “…’Kay.”

“Min þanc.” Thanks.

Danny…reluctantly…faces the green guy.

He looks. Nice. Enough. He’d look better if he wasn’t staring—if Danny couldn’t physically feel how heavy the green guy’s attention was weighing down on him, pressing into his head and shoulders and neck, and—

Danny looks away. Again. The lady sighs.

The green guy sends waves of peace, calm, which is definitely a threat! Danny’s been smacked by Nocturn more than once! He knows what safety feels like when wielded as a weapon!

Apology wafts around the room, but Danny doesn’t want to hear it. Feel it. Smell it? Whatever. It has nothing to do with him. Danny wants to fiddle with the bits of his space station and maybe practice writing his name again, which has so far been less than a success. But he should probably introduce himself soon enough.

It’s only been. You know. …Literal months.

Questions and answers/queries and information? the green guy offers to trade, which is theoretically nice. But Danny’s been hunted for answers before—and sometimes just straight up hunted for fun.

There’s no information he wants to give.

Ask me? comes instead.

…Danny’s fingers still. Wait. He’s allowed to ask?

A bubble of amusement/worry bursts. Yes. If Danny has questions, he can apparently…ask.

Okay. Danny sets the space shuttle aside. He tilts his aura around, and bends it—if the green guy were a ghost, they’d be able to share more emotions with ­Danny’s guard slipped downwards. He’s going to bet it works…kind of the same way for whatever he is.

Who’s the lady? Does she have a name?

There’s a bubble burst of a memory—some dude in all black with little cat ears announcing This is Wonder Woman, hand out to present her to the listener. Without her scrubs on in the memory, she looks…like a warrior.

Armored. Strong. Black hair, gold gauntlets and red boots. Firm back. Like on the television

…In her scrubs, she just looks like the same lady as always. In his head, she looks as powerful and mighty as Pandora.

Danny’s heart picks up. Breathing becomes—harder. Does she fight? Does she fight all the time?

Memories of shared battles play out from the green being’s point of view: punching and throwing and whipping her lasso in the air and confidence and freeing prisoners and the power of the gods behind her, a royal in her own right—

…Will Danny have to fight?

The green guy murmurs something sad, grief flashing up against Danny’s low emotional shields. His hands reach out—but Danny leans back. He doesn’t want to be touched. He doesn’t want to feel the dude feeling bad for him. He just wants to know; will Danny be forced to fight?

There’s a deep, painful sympathy brushing up against him. Danny recoils. The thoughts of healing, doctors, naps, coming off his meds, recovery. Of concern, worry, Wonder Woman settling the patient’s blankets, his green-marred face raw and luminescent.

Healing. Resting.

Which. Danny glares. He gets that. But what happens after? Medical care is expensive, and Danny doesn’t even have hint of an idea of how long he’s been lying here. He knows that nothing comes free.

The green guy’s expression squeezes with concern. His head might be kind of funky-shaped, but the face is pretty human equivalent. Danny would have struggled to read Frostbite’s more than his. Danny doesn’t like that.

Danny misses beings he recognizes. He wants his friends. He wants Jazz. He wants Frostbite or Wulf or…or…

…Or Mom…or Dad…

Something touches Danny’s hand. Danny looks down. The green hand that reaches for him doesn’t grab, exactly, but it lets him know that the dude is there, at his side. I’m sorry, the guy says, more sentiment than thought. And then there’s a struggle to convey the next few thoughts.

…Because the guy doesn’t have as much experience of being outside as the school bell rings, children going in. Lunches in the headquarters cafeteria. The phone in Flash’s hand turned sideways, so that Martian Manhunter can see the dead-fish kiss between Rosalinda and Romero from last night's episode—

Wait, is the guy actually an alien? It’s kind of rude, but Danny. Gawks.

The concern hanging around in the air of the room turns into green-tinged amusement. The green dude and Danny have already had this conversation.

…Danny peeks at his water bottle on the side table and sheepishly rubs his nose. Ah. Whoops. They have?

Yes, the alien continues, and pulls his hand back. But they were having a conversation. About school. And healing. And recovering, and a comfortable space to rest, and an apartment on Earth and peace and family, and—

Danny shoves his emotional shields all the way back up before he. Before he forgets. His heart is pounding. He can’t look.

He can’t.

He.

…He can’t have that again.

The green guy—the martian wants to tell Danny something else, but he can’t—he can’t open himself up to that anymore.

Danny doesn’t have a mom anymore. Danny doesn’t have a dad anymore. His sister is—gone. He’s not going to hurt himself for wanting them back. There's no family and no house and no safety.

There are more quiet, empathetic presses against Danny’s emotions, but Danny pulls the covers up as high as they’ll go, and breathes through the thin cotton sheet pressed against his face.

It catches his tears, when he has them.

Someone mutters, and someone else mutters back. When Danny feels something touch his wrist through the cotton blanket, he can’t help flinching, but the speaker’s voice is familiar enough that he settles quickly enough. Danny listens to the lady—Wonder Woman, he remembers—hum softly.

…It’s a nice hum.

She hums, and she strokes his wrist, and she doesn’t go anywhere. She’s a stalwart, soft presence at his side.

It’s nice.

It's... Relatively, it's safe.

Danny eventually stops acting like a baby, and. Takes the sheet off. He isn’t crying, so there aren’t and tears to wipe away (there’s no need to check the footage, just believe him!), but it takes him a second to get himself reoriented to the room without a giant psychic presence in it.

But the whole time, the lady just…rubs his wrist, and then his mildly obliterated (but mostly healed!) hand. And hums. And lets Danny reorient himself, at his own pace, and in a safe space.

 Danny sniffles. He hopes it’s all mucus in his sinus cavity, and not, like, more ecto. But who knows?

The lady tilts her head forward, until Danny can see the blue eyes peeking over her lavender surgical mask. Her hand comes to her chest to tap against the paper-thin PPE covering her top half.

“Wonder Woman,” the lady says, firmly and clearly. “Diana.”

…That’s a name. Danny’s nose scrunches. That's a human name. That's a very recognizable, extremely culturally familiar human name.

They never introduced themselves, right?

Maybe…well… He is in space. Maybe he’s far enough away that no one will know him if he says his name.

(Or maybe Mom won’t want him back anyway, even if she found him.)

And there’s probably a million black-haired kids named Daniel, anyway. It’s a biblical name. These people don’t even speak English or Esperanto, or anything else Danny knows; so maybe it’s. Safe?

And…maybe Danny just wants to hear his name said again.

“D…”

The lady frowns, and then eases closer. Danny—gently—tugs on a lock of her hair until she lowers, and his mouth can reach her ear.

“D’nny,” Daniel James Fenton whispers into Wonder Woman’s ear.

Diana raises herself back upright. Her eyes are wet.

“Danny,” she repeats back to him. Her callused hands gently take both of Danny’s scarred and lumpy ones. “Wel mete.”

*

“He believes that we are going to require his presence in combat as payment for his recovery,” J’onn reports diligently, and stuffs his trepidation deep into his countenance.

The league around him groans.

*

[hotxcheeto]

━ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐗𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, ab/muscle riding ( reader on ellie ), voyeurism ( phone call sex with unaware 3rd party ), kissing, nudity, joel showing up, mention of shower sex, showering together, fluff

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I've been in such a bad writing funk so I'm sorry if this is horrid and sucks ass, life has been awful.

𝗔𝗨 - Modern !

PREV | NEXT

☾ ONE NIGHT STAND MASTERLIST ☽

PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK - ITS APPRECIATED!!

All you could hear was her breathing, soft and mixed with quiet snores that she didn't care to correct. Her eyes shut but you knew the rest of her was awake, the telltale sign of that being the fingers running against your bare back in a circular motion.

The glassware and utensils had been left out on her coffee table but the food had successfully been put away late last night. It was the last time either of you had gotten up from the couch up until now, the mid-morning sun greeting you both.

A channel you didn't know the name of played on the screen in front of you which kept you slightly entertained. Half in a haze of sleep and the other partially awake. You were just basking in the fact that you didn't have to do a thing today but lay there if you really wanted.

Then again, her phone had other plans, beginning to ring just as your eyes had began to shut again. The sound was excruciating, so much so that you had shoved your face into her body and groaned into her belly by the time the pattern repeated, trying not to smile at the sound of her throaty laughter while she reached for the device.

"What?" She answered.

You peaked up at her, resting your chin on the backs of your hands.

"You always answer the phone with 'what' or do you just really not like them?" You mocked her voice in a whisper earning you a tap on your blanket covered ass and a smirk.

"No I'm busy." She replied to whoever was talking, watching you as you looked away and at her hallway, trying to decide whether peeing was more important than your current comfort.

"I said I'm busy, Cat. I will later or something." The mention of her name made you peer over and meet Ellie's eyes once again. "Cat, huh?" You teased, this time feeling her pinch you, hand dipping underneath the fluffy layer and running itself over your warm skin.

"I dunno, call Dina. I'm really busy right now, Joel needs me to help him set up his new cable shit or whatever, you know him." You giggled, sitting up on her torso in order to swing your legs on either side of her body.

"Wow, using your old man as an excuse. Diabolical." She squeezed the bottom of your butt, bringing her warm hand over to hold your hip. "I don't know about later anyways, Joel wanted me to stay for dinner."

Her gaze was fixated on your face, biting the inside of her lip when she moved to push your lower half forward. Humming almost inaudibly when you seemed to get the message.

"Listen I gotta go, I don't know what you want me to do about that. I can't keep helping you out when it comes to these things."

You went slow at first, grinding your bare cunt against her pelvis followed by little moans tumbling from your lips. Little puffs of air coming with which Ellie found adorable tending to focus more on your mouth than whatever her ex was saying.

"Ellie..."

The whimpers were unheard on Cat's end of the phone though, standing outside her ex-job place whilst praying to God Ellie could show up and sweet talk her boss into letting her stay.

"I can't keep getting you jobs if you're gonna lose them. It'll fuck up my shop name if I keep getting others into bullshit." You covered your face to muffle your noises when she bucked her hips, but she quickly tugged your hands away to meet your pretty eyes and accidentally caused you to fall forward.

"You got your ex a job?"

"Was trying to be nice-" she smiled as you shifted into a better position. Tilting her head as you humped your clit against her muscles again and again while she gripped your thigh,"-ended in me getting fucked over, as per usual."

"How sweet of you.. oh fuck–" That had come out much louder than you intended but your mind had become a foggy mess that hadn't noticed. But Ellie had.

"What? Nothing Cat, I gotta go." You sped up, feeling your belly begin to tighten whilst you dug your nails into her shoulders. Clenching your teeth as to not be so fucking obvious.

"M'gonna... Ellie.."

"Bye Cat, I'll talk to you later." She hung up before the other girl got a chance to say her farewells. Tossing her phone onto the carpet with a soft thump, but her attention was all on you.

You moved, sitting up once more to arch yourself into her abs, rotating your hips so that your clit hit every delicious spot. Mouth wide and hung open, Ellie admired not only that, but the way your head fell backwards and your eyes closed.

"I- fuck-"

"Let go already... you're pretty when you come y'know." The sound of those few words sent you flying over the edge. Body stuttering and shaking, Ellie helping you out by guiding you back and forth again to make it easier.

You couldn't make that out though, laying your head on her chest once you'd begun to come down.

"I think you are just as pretty " You replied after a moment, taking a deep and unleveled breather while staring at the back of the couch. Then shifting your head to peer up at her, a question on her tongue that she was resisting the urge to ask, but that failed.

"Are you gonna stay?"

"If you want me to."

It was quiet for a second, green eyes looking into your own. Hand returning to it's earlier dance on your back.

"I'm hungry."

You moved to slide off her body, stretching out while feeling her eyes rake over your body like you were a treasure chest just waiting to be opened.

"We both need to shower before we do anything, so either you say no and I leave, or you can join me." You didn't have to say it twice before she was off the couch, pulling you into her tiny bathroom and then right into the hot water.

You'd stayed until your fingers began to become pruney, giggling at stupid small things each other would say. Ellie and you both poking at each other when the other wasn't paying attention.

Then her fingers went other places then your hips, creeping between your thighs and after a few moments, in and out of your body. Soon after you stood with shaking legs while rinsing the soapy suds from your torso.

Ellie's hands on your back helping with the rest before she kissed your neck and told you that she'd order food. Leaving you alone with nothing but the stream of warmth and the quiet rest of the bathroom.

You baked in its warmth, the smell of Ellie's body wash that you liked and her shampoo and conditioner which she claimed she only had because Dina had called her a monster for using a two-in-one. It had made you giggle, that you can admit.

Finally you shut the near cold water off and stepped out, grabbing the fluffy white towel she'd told you from the behind the curtain was for your use. Wrapping it around your body before looking at yourself in the foggy glass.

Water droplets falling down your skin, not a tired glint in your eyes, instead you looked alive. You couldn't remember the last time that was, not a though actually, not even at the beginning of the last one.

You turned, going to exit the bathroom when you nearly ran right into a man going to walk into the bathroom. Ellie beside him trying to grab him back but all you could focus on was how startled he was and how absolutely bare you were.

"Holy shit, I am so sorry!" You practically squeaked, clutching the fuzzy fabric with everything you had to offer. "No, shit, that's my bad." He looked away and tried to avoid making eye contact and backed up, turning around and away.

"Could've warned me, kid." He directed to Ellie who grabbed your arm lightly to tug you away and into her room.

"Fuck I am so sorry." Ellie began while you shook your head, trying to avoid thinking about what could be going through that man's head. "He just showed up-" "It's okay. I promise."

Ellie stared with worry swirling in her eyes, anxiously playing with her fingers while her cheeks burned bright red. Watching as you sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Do you want me to go-" "No, no he's only stopping by. You can stay in here until he leaves, or if you want I can drive you home once he does." You shrugged, smiling softly to get her to calm down. "I was kinda looking forward to watching that show you suggested. Can't leave before I see it, right?"

"Fuck... okay, now I gotta... go out there." "If he asks, tell him what he wants to know." She raised her eyebrows, noticing the goosebumps of the cold appearing on your shoulders and arms.

"Just be honest, it's more embarrassing getting caught in a lie later. Especially if we make it as far as meeting the parents. Which is around, what? Month three, maybe four? We're in month one, going on two in two weeks. And judging by how much we seem to get along we'll probably end up there and that is a horrible conversation waiting to happen if it starts as some shitty lie."

Ellie snorted and rubbed her eyebrows, finally shaking her head.

"Alright, I'll be right back. But if you wanna make an escape, window is not an option." You giggled, standing up to go to her closet which she'd offered before she'd gotten out. "Definitely don't feel like falling seven stories so I'll just wait to run out the front door when you're not looking."

Ellie left, the muffled sound of her voice and the man's outside the room and down the hallway. Inaudible due to the length between them but close enough to where you heard him chuckle, smiling as you put a shirt on that was probably made for a seven foot tall man instead of Ellie's five-five stature.

It was huge, on anyone that wasn't a giant anyway.

"Christ." You muttered, biting your lip to muffle your amusement. Putting on an equally large pair of pants that you were sure were hand-downs from someone she knew. If they weren't, you wondered what possessed her to buy them.

After a moment though you got curious, creeping over to the door to listen into the conversation. Knowing it wasn't good, but how bad could it be?

"You like her?" "Joel-" "C'mon, she ain't a stranger. Her shoes all nicely places over there? I ain't an idiot." You covered your mouth to hide your sounds, shifting your weight with the anxious feeling of being caught.

"Yeah, I do. It hasn't been that long, though. Alright? So you're not missing anything." It sounded as if he got closer, probably teasing her in his expression which you too from the sound of her scoff. "I wanna meet her when I do start to miss somethin'."

"Okay, okay, now please, send a text next time." "Nah, maybe I'll just walk in instead of knocking. Catch you by surprise and scare the shit outta all of your friends." "Alright, that's enough, door."

You shook your head while laughing, sitting back down on the bed to wait for her. Watching the TV's rest screen turn from nature sight to nature sight until the door opened once again and her blushing face became visible.

"I miss him already." Ellie playfully shoved you back, laying next to you and staring up at the ceiling. "Shut up." "Just saying, you jinxed it."

She turned her head, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"Earlier, when you told Cat you were helping him?" You could see the hilarious realization in her face. "Oh fuck I did. Damn it." "We have to work on that." "Work on what?"

You looked at her, deadpanned.

"Your excuses."

"What's wrong with my excuses?" You let out a loud 'hah', pulling yourself to sit up. "They're cliché. And you always sound slightly panicked, it is adorable though." Messing with you, she rolled her eyes. "Can't we just watch The Mandalorian now?"

"Fine, we'll work on your lie game later." "Great! You're gonna love this show." "I bet I will." You smiled.

PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK!! - liking does not boost and I like people reading what I wrote!!

[dira333]

When I felt like I was an old cardigan - Kenma x Reader

thanks @missalienqueen for the character choice

Your head’s pounding, the sliver of sunlight peaking through the blinds too bright for your eyes. You press them closed again, sink further into the bed. 

What happened last night? What day is today? Where are you anyway?

You’ve always been a deep sleeper. The kind that forgets everything the minute your eyes close. 

So you’re not that surprised to find yourselves out of your depth at first.

But you quickly realize that this isn’t your bed. Your bedding is not that expensive and your mattress is not that soft.

Did you spend the night at a hotel? 

You curl further into the pillows, your memories still a little foggy but at least past you has shown some taste in finding a place to sleep.

“Good morning.” The voice is soft and gentle and you need a second to realize that it’s not in your head.

You turn your head. There’s a door not far from you, a man leaning against the frame.

You swallow thickly. Hotel rooms normally don’t come with handsome strangers.

Wait, you were on a tinder date last night. Could it be-?

“I usually don’t sleep with someone on the first date.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. 

“I know.” He says, dark hair falling into his eyes. Even from this distance you can tell that they are big and bright, cat-like and captivating. “You told me that last night, over and over.”

“And we still did-?” You can’t bring yourself to say it.

His eyes widen at your question. “No, no, nothing like that. Don’t you remember? You didn’t seem that drunk.”

You groan and rub your temples. “I have early morning dementia. I’ll need a cup of coffee to get my memories back.”

He chuckles softly, the sound rich and warm. It sends shivers down your spine.

“Follow me then.”

You follow him, the floor cool beneath your bare feet. You’re wearing an oversized shirt that’s definitely not yours over what appears to be your underwear. You wonder where the rest of your clothes ended up and whose shirt it might be. It can’t be his, he’s not that much taller or broader than you but the shirt hangs off you like a dress, generously covering your bare legs.

“What’s your name again?” You ask when he leads you into the kitchen. You’re normally pretty good with names and faces, but he’s not in any of your college classes, as far as you’re aware. And he’s got recognizable features, pretty eyes, and an interesting hair color, his long dark hair bleached at the ends, held up in the back in a messy bun that looks effortlessly pretty. You never get your hair to look like that.

“Kenma. Kenma Kozume. I know you from College.”

You blink. Could you have really missed him? With looks like that?

“I’m not in any of your classes.” He points out, his voice now quieter, his eyes moving across the kitchen as if looking for something to hold on to. “I just noticed you on campus, that’s all.”

“Oh.” You blink again. “That’s…” Your voice drowns in the noise of the coffee maker. Kenma seems uncomfortable with it too, flinching when the whirring gets a little too loud. 

Soon the distinct aroma of fresh coffee fills the room, waking your brain up a little more. Kenma puts the first cup in front of you, smiles apologetically, and restarts the machine.

You take tiny sips and close your eyes as your brain boots up like an outdated computer. 

-

You remember getting ready for your date, phone set up to film you as you twirl in your new red dress. 

“What do you think?” You ask and your best friend gives you a double thumbs up.

“You look so cute! He’s going to be head over heels for you!”

“I hope so. It’s my first time dating over an app, I have no idea how this works!”

“I hate that I can’t be there to stalk you. I’d sit behind a plant and spy on you and make sure he treats you well.”

“I know, I hate it too. But I can’t wait for you to come back from Paris to start dating. Are you still on with that Tendou Guy for tomorrow night?”

“He hasn’t ghosted me yet, so I’m hopeful. He sent a few memes over and he’s either had help or he’s the best kind of funny.”

“Aww, I hope it’s the last. Well, I have to go in a few minutes, so I’ll log off. I’ll send you updates through the night, okay?”

“Okay, have fun!”

…

“Have you decided yet?” The waitress is not much older than you. You wonder if you’d feel better or worse if she were older. She’s giving you a sympathetic smile and you know what she’s thinking. After all, you’ve been sitting at this table for two for over thirty minutes, clearly waiting on a date that’s not going to come.

“I… I’ll have a glass of wine.” You start, your voice a little shaky. “What entree would you suggest?”

There’s a business meeting on a table to your right and an older couple having dinner to your left. You’ve never felt so alone like you’re doing right now and even though you know it’s not your fault and that alcohol isn’t a solution for a problem like this, you can’t deny that the first glass makes you feel a little better.

The second glass makes you feel a little warmer too, something you welcome after wearing a dress that looks incredible on you but is nowhere near warm enough for a rainy night in early spring.

By the time the waitress hands you the dessert card you’re ready to order your third glass of wine. But just as you open your mouth, the chair that had been vacant ever since you came in, is pulled back.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” The man is pretty, tailored suit and bright, cat-like eyes, dark hair pulled back into a bun. “My meeting ran late.”

“I-what?” You eye him warily. He’s gorgeous, there’s no denying it, a 10 out of 10 whereas your date had been a solid six or maybe seven, at least that’s what you could tell from his pictures alone.

“You can leave the menu with me.” He turns to the waitress with a smile, taking the menu from her before taking a seat.

“I’m sorry.” He leans forward, whispering over the little candle burning in the middle of the table. “I noticed that you were eating alone and you seemed a little lost. I hope I’m not intruding, this isn’t… I normally don’t do stuff like this, but I’ve seen you around College before, so I thought… I’m Kenma, by the way. Kenma Kozume.”

“Oh…” Your voice comes out a little too loud and he blushes, lowers his head in a way that tells you more about him than his previous words had.

“What were you doing here? At the restaurant, I mean, when you saw me?”

“I was part of that business meeting. It went on for way too long but I couldn’t just get up and leave, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, sure. I mean, your boss would probably fire you, if you did. But he picked a nice restaurant for a meeting. The food here is good.”

“It is.” He smiles, just a slight quirk of his lips, but your heart responds as if he’d just confesse his love for you. He really is unfairly pretty.”

-

The coffee machine falls quiet again and you blink, refocus on the moment again.

“That was really nice of you.” You say, “To keep me company like that.”

“It was reckless, more likely. You were nice enough not to chase me away.”

“No, I had a good feeling about you.” You smile up at him, still standing next to the coffee machine. He seems so much easier to fluster now, at daybreak, than he was last night. Or maybe you’re just noticing it now that you have a steady gaze and a clear mind. 

“Who knows how much more wine I would have had without you.”

“You don’t handle your liquor well.” He points out, blushing as if realizing belatedly that that was rude.

Shame burns through you as you remember stumbling out of the restaurant as if your body had only registered all the alcohol the moment you’d stood up - late and all at once.

You must have looked a mess, and truthfully, you’d been one. 

You hadn’t even been able to remember your address, hanging off Kenma like a dead weight on the way to his car.

-

“I still owe you,” you remember, guilt coiling in your stomach. He’d paid for everything.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I can pay for my food. I mean, you let me sleep here too and the clothes-” You pick at the collar, a sudden realization flashing through you. “Your boyfriend will be horrified I slept in his clothes.”

“My boyfr-” Kenma stares at you, wide eyed, face paler than before. “What are you talking about?”

It’s a miracle he understands what you’re trying to say from the way you’re rambling now. You’ve lost sight of the point you were trying to make a while ago.

“I…” He’s glaring at the coffee machine now as if it had murdered his family or caused some other tragedy. “I’m not gay. I don’t have a boyfriend. Truth is I’ve noticed you. At College, like I said. I’m not that good at making friends but you seemed kind and interesting and… well, I didn't know how to approach you until I saw you at the restaurant. I couldn’t leave you there looking all pathetic.”

You snort. His eyes fly over, the sight of them - on you - making you breathless again. He really is unfairly pretty. 

“I don’t mind you making an ass of yourself. I’m as socially awkward as they come. I just…”

“Do you wanna get coffee together?” You ask. You know you’re getting ahead of yourself, but he’s cute and if you’re hangover brain isn’t reading everything wrong, he’s not against being friends with you.

Kenma blinks, holds up the coffee he made himself. It’s a question and an answer in itself.

You laugh.

“I mean a planned thing. Where I can dress up before and make sure I look presentable instead of looking like I’m trying to cosplay a Scarecrow.”

“You mean a date?” He asks, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Warmth bubbles in your chest. You lean your head to the side. “If you want it to be a date, it can be a date.”

He smiles, the motion lighting up his face. 

Your stomach flips a little at the sight and you wonder, really, just how you managed to turn a night around like that.

“Would it be terribly forward of me to ask you out right now?” Kenma asks. “I kinda like the Scarecrow Cosplay. Just don’t tell my best friend, I stole that shirt from him.”

…

Somewhere in Tokyo Kuroo sneezes loudly.

“Better take some Zinc,” he mutters to himself. “Don’t want to get sick.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[waffledforbreakfast]

Dreams of you - SAE X READER [oneshot]

Sae x Reader , oneshot, angst + comfort(??)

[pt.2 ]

[Kaiser edition (wip)]

[ BLLK Oneshot Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

“I love you, Sae.” “I love you too, [Y/N].” “Please babe. Wake up.” 

Sae shot up, cold sweat running down his body. His hands were shaking and his breath was uneven, how many times has this been now?

26. It had been 26 days since he broke up with you. Why was he still having dreams of your first date? Your loving words and tender affirmations, your smile so bright it had engraved itself in the back of his mind.

It had been a month since he broke up with you, and yet every night your warm touch had seeped into the back of his mind, and into his dreams.

Breaking up with you was meant to help him focus. Not the other way around.

He wondered if it would’ve been better if he just didn’t leave.

“Whatever. What’s been done has been done. There’s no going back.”

He took a deep breath, fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose.

The clock read 4:02 AM. Not that he had to check, it was always 4 in the morning that these dreams released him.

Sae wondered what you were doing in Japan, did you have lunch yet? What were you eating? Who were you eating with? Was it your new boyfri-

“Stop.”

Sae hissed at himself, trying to keep his thoughts in check. He would think of you everyday, he hated it. Whenever he saw your favourite food, he’d think of buying you some. A plushie, would you like it? The cats at the shelter, maybe he should send you a pic…

He grabbed his hair, nails digging lightly into his scalp. It was always you. Why must you haunt his poor heart  head? 

He refused to waste more time on this. He stood up and fixed his bed, a habit he got from you. It was already 4:11, he’d used almost 10 minutes thinking of you again. He clenched his jaw, mentally noting that he didn’t deserve to get himself a sweet treat today, for wasting such time.

But it was better than yesterday’s 18 minutes, right? That’s improvement! Plus, he had trained for 10 hours yesterday as a punishment, so surely it’d be okay to take it easier today, right?

Sae remembered how you used to convince him to take breaks from training with such logic.

He dug his nails into his palm. Enough of you already, he had things to do.

Sae left the apartment, wandering the empty streets illuminated by the streetlamps and the few open cafes/restaurants. 

Sae used to blast music through his headphones to mute his thoughts, but it stopped working after he was reminded that you were the one who handcrafted all the very few playlists of his.

So now he just tried to focus on his surroundings, promptly ignoring any thoughts of you.

He’d been doing this for weeks now, did he feel any better? Would he be happier if he fully got over you? Sae didn’t let himself answer that question.

He was well familiar with the area by now, becoming a regular at any place open at this time around here. There was nothing new for him to focus on.

No no, surely there was something. Wasn’t a new cafe opening somewhere? He could’ve sworn someone handed him a flyer about it…

But truthfully, he could barely remember anything these days. 

Sae pulled out his phone and looked through his gallery to find the picture of the flyer, pretending to not see the dozens of your photos, which he had deleted and re-downloaded multiple times now.

He followed the map towards the cafe, flipping through its online menu. It seemed that the cafe really was new, almost nothing had been set up online, no images, no menu, no reviews. It seemed to be a small struggling business. Sae almost pitied them. If he was capable of such emotions anymore.

Sae pushed open the door, the small bell dangling above it rang a light jingle, notifying the worker that there was a guest

“Oh hello! Uhm… that door was supposed to be locked, haha…”

The poor employee laughed awkwardly, sweating visible bullets.

Sae turned around to look at the door, the rusted lock fell off the frame on to the floor.

The employee gulped, “So, what can I help you with!” She tried to put on a bright smile, since the customer was clearly wealthy, given his looks, there was no way she’d be able to tell him to get out!

Sae looked around, the place really was run down, was it really ready to open?? 

“What do you have?”

“Uhm, let’s see… We have water?”

“...”

“uh- hahaha… just kidding! W-we have other stuff too… uhm- dango, milk tea, tanghulu, pudding, anddd milk?” 

The worker gave a weak smile, Sae was staring right into her eyes, she felt like he’d jump her at any moment!

“Get me two waffles”

“I- sorry?? We don’t offer those, haha…”

She did NOT remember listing waffles as an option, was the guy even listening???

“Oh”

He was not listening

“... Actually- I’ll get that done for you! Give me a few minutes….”

She headed to the back to get his order done.

Shit. Sae impulse ordered waffles again. He doesn’t even like waffles! It was supposed to be your favourite food, not his. Why’d he do that…

He knew exactly why, but refused to admit it.

What was he even going to do with two of them!? The only option really was to scarf it down…

“Uhm… you’ve been staring at me for a while… is there something wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t aware, sorry.”

The worker gave him a skeptic look, as he was still staring, even after the apology. “This guy must be barely awake…”

“Well, here’s your waffles!”

She handed him a paper bag, with clear plastic on one side so he could see inside. Two warm waffles sat, Sae could feel the heat.

“Could I ask, what made you think we were open? No offense or anything- It’s just that the sign on the door said we were closed, and all the flyers said we’re opening next month… I don’t wanna mislead anyone or anything, haha..”

Sae gave a confused look, did he hallucinate…? It wouldn’t be the first time…

He pulled out his phone to check, and sure enough, “GRAND OPENING: NEXT MONTH” was written in bold. How did he miss that???

“Sorry, [Y/N].”

He mumbled, pulling out his wallet, and putting a few hundred bills on the table and sliding it to the worker, “For your troubles”

“Oh! Uhm, Thank you!”

The worker was visibly taken aback, he had given her $750! If she was in a different situation, she probably would’ve insisted on giving it back, but with the way the store was looking, it would go a long way.

Sae headed towards the door, checking the time

“Uhm sir, my name’s not [Y/N] by the way… you can just call me-”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Sae cut her off. He didn’t really care who she was. Now he knew why he was staring at her the whole time, her eyes looked like yours.

“Barely. [Y/N]’s are darker.”

Sae took a waffled from the bag, taking a bite as he walked home

“What am I doing with my life, I can’t even remember Rin’s eye colour but I know her’s? What curse am I under…”

“Maow!”

Sae looked down, a tabby cat was jumping up his leg, reaching for the waffle bag.

“Maowmaowmaowwwwww”

Sae leaned down, squatting as he opened the bag and gave the cat a waffle.

The tabby ate it happily, it seemed well groomed and clean, maybe it belonged to someone?

Sae pet her head, the cat leaning into his touch with a content smile as she purred.

“How cute, they have the same eyes…”

Sae stood up, dusting himself off. He waved goodbye to the cat and continued walking home.

But the cat followed, meowing loudly to get his attention. She didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving.

Sae looked at it for a bit, hesitating. You had always wanted a cat, you even had names prepared. Maybe one day, when you visit, he could show you the cat and convince you to come to his apartment.

“Forget it. She’s never coming back.”

There was no point in keeping the cat, he was never planning on getting one.

And yet he still stared at the cat, the cat staring back with those eyes that he oh so loved, resembling yours.

Fuck it.

Sae scooped up the cat, and continued walking,

“You’re mine now.”

A/N: Teehee! First oneshot :3 this ones inspired by irl events ;) bc i have a crazy rate of dreaming- (daily. And I can remember 75% of the time, which mean my dreams give me crazy amounts of content LMAO)

Hope u like it :3

[m4k4yl4]

Coffee Boy

Summary: When y/n ends up having to close the cafe for the night, what happens when her cafe crush ends up staying with her in the cafe til the snow calms down.

Content warning: None.

Masterlist

Posted: 12/01/2023

He's always here, same time, same booth every day, yet the most y/n has talked to him was when he asks for an Americano at the cash register and the only thing she can say back is "that'll be $3.15, please move up." or "have a good day, sir!"

His name is Felix, and that's one thing she knows for sure she's the one that writes it on his cup every morning. She started to draw little things next to it. One day, a sun. The next day, a cat is anything she could think of on the top of her head. She enjoyed seeing the smile and nod he would give her after seeing the drawing.

Same routine of this for the past 4 weeks or at past that's how long she had been counting and she still couldn't find the courage to speak to him and whenever she thinks she finally has the chance and confident to do he's left. At the same time, as always gone to who knows back into the cold winter air with an even colder Americano in hand.

Today was like any other 9am y/n had already clocked in standing at the front finger tapping on the table as she looked back and forth from the clock to the front door of the cafe. 'He still hasn't come in yet, wondering what happened,' she thought.

Hours had passed, and he never showed up. 'Guess he's not showing today.' As she's wiping off the last tables, the last worker there withher runs up. "Hey y/n! Can you maybe do the closing shift for me? I have a date with my boyfriend tonight, and I can't miss the reservation."

Y/n blinks for a second, "I- I mean, I guess.." "Really?! Oh, thank you, babes! I own you a big one! Okay, bye!" Y/n stares a little confused at the interaction as her coworker runs off the door. "I guess I'm closing tonight.."

As the night goes on for longer, the snow picks up while y/n is busy making sure everything in the back is good and not put out of place until she hears loud bangs on the entrance of the cafe.

She quickly runs out the of the back, thinking someone was breaking in only to be met with the blonde boy she had been waiting for earlier. She quickly runs to the door, opening it to let him in.

A big gust of wind and snow blows in with him as she shuts the door again, feeling like she had just been stuffed into a freezer. "Jesus, it's freezing out there, I didn't notice it had snowed this much!"

"Yeah, they had been talking on the news about a blizzard coming through. I didn't think it would be this bad.." Felix said as he shook some of the snow off himself. "Oh! You must be freezing, I'll go get you something to warm up with. " He shakes his head, "No, no, you're fine. I'm fine, really!"

She looks at him for a second. "You sure? Your face looks all red. I can get you some hot chocolate, I haven't turned the machine yet." Felix touches his cold face. The red one of his face deepens in embarrassment. "Yeah.. I guess hot chocolate would help a bit. Thank you." She smiles. "No problem!"

As Felix sits down in the booth, he usually sits in y/n walks to the hot chocolate machine freaking out on the inside. 'This is the most I have ever talked to him. What the fuck-'

She comes back with two hot chocolates in hand, setting one in front of him as she sat down across the booth from him. "Didn't know you liked hot chocolate usually you get an Americano and those don't have that much sweetness to them"

He gives a small smirk, "You remembered my order?" She looks up from her drink, eye widen."uhm, I mean, it's just that you come here a lot and never have changed your order, so you know it just kinda stuck, I guess. Sorry if you think it's weird." Felix laughs, "No, it's cute, really. Also, I love those little drawings you put on the cup."

"Really?" She surprised, "Yeah, the little smiley sun was my favorite. Do you draw them on every cup?" She pauses for moments embarrassed to answer his questions, "Hm, no..just yours, really.."

He smiles at her, "Well, thank you for that. Helps me smile in the morning." She smiles back at him face brighter than ever at his compliments. They talk for who knows how long. Y/n looks out the window, seeing the wind and snow calming down.

"Oh, I think it's stopped snowing." Felix looks out the window before checking his phone, "I should probably get going while it's stopped. My roommate is probably wondering where I'm at." He puts on his jacket, y/n following his lead.

"Me too. It's way too late for me to be here. I was supposed to close a while ago." She picks up their empty hot chocolate cups bring them to the kitchen, til an idea came into her head.

"Felix!" She comes out of the kitchen a to go cup in hand, "Oh y/n! I was wondering where you had gone, but I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye first." She smiles at him, handing him the cup.

"It's still cold outside, and I didn't see you come in a car or anything, so take this to keep you warm on the home." Felix looks down at the cup wear the names are usually written instead a phone number, y/n phone number, written with the smiley sun he liked so much next to it.

Felix looks back up at a nervous y/n standing in front of him. "Thank you again, y/n. I'll be sure to repay you for this." She smiles at him, "I hope you keep that promise, Felix."

They both leave out together, waving goodbye as they walk opposite ways home, stupid smiles on their faces. As y/n enters her house, she feels the buzz from her phone looking at the notification, making her want to giggle like a little girl.

1 new message

1-×××-×××-××××: y/n? It's Felix! Was wondering if you wanted to go out this weekend. You know, as repayment<3

A/N: YAYYY‼️ ANOTHER FIC‼️

[weskie]

Hello!! This is my first time writing to someone.. but your work is so cool! It's my birthday today, if you have time can you write something on this topic with Wesker? not fundamentally NSFW or SFW. I’m generally a girl, but the reader can also be gender neutral. you can write some headcanons, or.. in general, whatever you want, I will be glad even a small headcanon or just a congratulations😺 sorry if you don't write anymore 👉👈

happy birthday!!! i hope this scratches your wesker itch and i hope you had a wonderful day <3

Your relationship was best displayed by stolen kisses.  Brief, fractions of a second when no one was in the room of the laboratory except for the two of you.

Today, Wesker abandons subtlety.

Once upon a time, it would’ve been a simple delivery.  Some poor bastard tasked with dropping off the most extravagant flower arrangement you’d ever seen, each year bigger and better than the last.  Your precious Albert simply couldn’t help but outdo himself each time.  True to his nature, he always sought perfection.

This year he waltzes in himself, startling the staff and making you turn seven shades of red.

“Dearest,” he greets, smirk spreading to reveal those sharp teeth that smile so brightly for you and you alone.  He sets your gift atop your desk and you throw your arms around his neck, embracing him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The room is quiet and you’re partly sure most of them are staring in shock.  Not exactly company knowledge that a simple lab rat was dating the big boss, but the cat had to come out of the bag sometime, eh? 

“I thought I instructed you to take the day to yourself,” Wesker chides softly, brow arching to let you know the command hidden behind his words.  “Must I really come rescue you every year?”

The dim red behind his glasses stirs its usual thrill within you, tingling from head to toe.  He’d certainly shown you how eager he was to celebrate your big day earlier in the morning.  The way he looks at you now promises you even more– after whatever plans he has in store for more typical celebrations.

He presses a kiss to your forehead before leading you out hand in hand.  Sometimes you find it strange how he treats you.  It’s like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched, like he wants nothing more than to handle you with care to ensure you’ll be there for every tomorrow.  In a world of filth, he has happily told you that you are the most pure creature to exist.

You are his ideal.  His dearest, his love.

You’re hardly surprised when the day consists of him spoiling you rotten, but you express your appreciation nonetheless.  For him to leave his work for an entire day was almost unheard of, but he does it for you.

For your special day, you are more important than his life’s work– more important than his dream.

As the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself encased in his strong, warm hold, head on his chest as it rises and falls with each steady breath.  Neither of you says a word, simply basking in each other’s presence.

His fingers rake through your hair softly, making your eyelids grow heavier by the minute.

“Rest, dearheart.” He murmurs, his own voice sleep ridden.  He knows why you stave it off.

You want more time with him.  It’s so difficult to find time like you had today.  Hell, sometimes he doesn’t even come to bed, opting to work the whole night through, leaving you to hug his pillow and miss him. Tonight, though, he is all yours.  But that’s not enough, and he knows it.

His fiery eyes flicker up toward the ceiling, weighing his responsibilities for the next day, pursing his lips as he allots each one a new place in his hectic schedule.

He smiles to himself, knowing how you’ll beam for him when you find him beside you for a second morning in a row.  There is no sight more precious to him.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Kirishima (Yakuza's guide to babysitting) introducing his baker girlfriend to Yaeka and everyone being shocked he even has a girlfriend in the first place?

Kirishima Toru + Secret Baker Girlfriend

It had been a nice day outside, so Kirishima, Yaeka, and Sugihara went to the park. Yaeka’s friends had other plans. So she had to make due with the older men to play with for the afternoon.

“Hey, why don’t we get some bread for home?” Kirishima asked as they were heading back to the estate after they were all worn out from playing. Yaeka nodded maturely, while Sugihara yelped enthusiastically like a child.

They walk into the bakery and were greeted by a soft chime over the door & warm response from a woman behind the counter. “Hello! Welcome in! Oh, Kirishima-kun. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Kirishima-kun?” Sugihara asked suspiciously. To which Kirishima glared at him a little.

“You must be Sugihara. It’s nice to finally meet you!”

“How do you know about me?” His suspicions getting higher.

“Oh, I’m Kirishima’s girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND?!” Sugihara exclaimed animatedly. His face completely shocked. “You have a girlfriend Kirishima?! How long have you had a girlfriend?!”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug, “two years?”

“Two years?!”

Sugihara continued in his spiral of shock and questions, while [Y/N] walked around from behind the counter and knelt down in from of Yaeka. “You must be Yaeka. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yaeka took her hand when offered and shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Kirishima talks about you all the time when he comes by. He says you’re a very smart, kind, good natured young lady.” Yaeka’s face turned bright red at the compliment. “He also told me you like cats.” She perked up at the mention of cats.

[Y/N] went back around the counter and pulled out a cat shaped black & white cookie and gave it to Yaeka. “Here you go. They’re usually really popular, so I hope you like them. On the house.”

“We have money you know.” Kirishima butt in. Further ignoring Sugihara and his annoying interrogation.

“I never said you didn’t, and I assume you’re going to buy something else.” [Y/N] gave him a light tap in the shoulder; to which Sugihara went completely gobsmacked over. “The usual?”

Kirishima nodded and [Y/N] when about picking out his order. “Kirishima?” He looked down at Yaeka, who looked up at him with questioning eyes. “Why didn’t you ever mention you had a girlfriend?”

“I guess I didn’t think it was anyone’s business.” He said with a shrug.

He loved his yakuza family, but he was also a very private person. It was also hard to bring in outsiders to the family. It worked out for Sakuragi-san and his wife, but those instances were rare. Separate was best for now. Not that he was ashamed of their side of the conversation.

“Here you go! Two loaves of bread, one white and one rye, a dozen assorted muffins, and one brownie.”

“Wait, this is where the Friday muffins come from?” Sugihara asked. Finally calming down and putting the pieces together.

“Yeah. You didn’t think I was making them, did you?” Kirishima asked as he took the bag and handed it to him.

“Well…no….” Sugihara was so confused he didn’t know what to think. “They’re really good by the way.”

“Thanks!” [Y/N] replied with a smile and Sugihara blushed. Up until the point that Kirishima stepped on his foot.

“Tell Sakuragi-san that we’ll mango castella cake back in next week if he’s interested. I can set aside a batch from him if you text me.”

“Papa likes mango cake?” Yaeka asked. Eyes bright with a new realization about her father.

[Y/N] chuckled and told Yaeka, “only mine,” with a wink.

They say goodbye and the trio head back home. “I like your girlfriend Kirishima-san.”

“Yeah. I like her too.”

“I still can’t believe you got a girlfriend before me.” Sugihara muttered, before he howled out loud when Kirishima stepped on his foot again.