#but the sleeves....um..... I'm a little scared

[diseaseriddencube]

yesssss the fated email has arrived, "your package shall be delivered tomorrow"

cutthroat cosplay here I come 😍

[justjams2003]

Time heals all wounds

Okay guys so...my PC broke🫨 it's um, done for. 2008 model so...yeah no there's not saving it... So if the formatting of this is weird, that would be the reason, I'm doing this on my phone.

Pairing: 70s!Elvis Presley x fem!reader

Summary: Elvis accidentally runs into a time traveler and doesn't even know it. All he knows is that she somehow just knows everything about him. Especially how badly he needs a good cuddle

Warnings: Topless reader, topless Elvis. Fluff. Angst (Elvis cries)(his ouchie body🙁) Mommy kink?? Idk this one might be a little weird guys... But he's so bbg really. Submissive Elvis. Coddling Elvis. Mentions if skin-to-skin contact. Mentions of Gladys Presley and how much Elvis missed her :(.

Word count: 2k+ unedited

Dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Just another groupie, he would have thought if it wasn’t for the way that he looked at her. Like she sees right through him. As if she knows everything about him. Past, present and future. Across the room, where the people mingle after his show. The VIP’s so excited to have the honour and the money to meet him. All too scared to touch him, for he is the king and they are but onlookers.

Long meaningful strides to the face that calls to him in the crowd. Eyes so warm and so clear of mind. Set on him and him alone. No other thought behind those eyes except the ones reflecting his own blue eyes. The light hits her and makes the frizz of her hair look like a halo and not an imperfection. Is her breathing matching his? He could swear he saw her chest rise and fall in rhythm as he takes a sharp inhale.

His hands fall on her upper arms, just below her shoulder. Wrapping all the way around and holding her like a Christmas present. Careful not to tear at the wrapping, wanting to appreciate the effort that has gone into the sharp folds of the corners and delicate little bow on top. Bound together by tape. Christmas lights, red, then green, then red again shining down on the present, begging to be opened.

“Hi.”

His tone of voice like one he’s known all his life. Like he would greet an old friend, one which you share such a bond with that even after years it’s still the same. The ruffles of her shirt conceal the soft skin that he so desperately wants to feel under his palms. His thumbs moves the finespun sleeve up, Elvis has to hold back a groan when he feels just how silky her pale skin is.

“Hi.”

She replies in the same manner as his. The lights reflect in the wet of her eyes, making it look like diamonds under sunlight. Long lashes blink, to truly take him in. His tan skin, from his Hawaii vacation she knows, his straight nose and soft pillow lips. Just how warm his hands are around her arms. Just how many hours she spent dreaming about this.

“Do I know you?”

A moment where they both seem to take in this bizarre moment. Anon, as if it was meant to be, they both just sort of break out in giggles. His wide smile that she’s seen so many pictures of. And a real laugh that the home tapes haven’t captured exactly. Simply because they can’t copy the echo. Or the way his eyes scrunch up and he leans forward against her. Or this crazy farm feeling that usually gets covered with shame.

But there is no shame now. Because this is real. Can you believe it? He’s actually here, in front of you. Holding you even. For him, it feels even crazier. Who are you? What is happening? Why do you seem to look right into his soul? You two must know each other. She looks so familiar, like those people you meet in your dreams and then suddenly see them walking past you on the street.

“No.” She says in between laughs and again he struggles to believe that. “Come on. I must’ve met you somewhere. Even just, on the road or- I don’t know in a bathroom line.” The girl just shakes her head again. “Do you even use public toilets?” He quickly eats his words. “No, I guess not really.” She can’t help but smile at the foolishness of this all. Of the craziness of this, really.

He slings his arm over her shoulder, like the photos, tucking her into his side. She can hear her heart beating louder than ever before. She’s scared she might even pass out from excitement. He’s so close, she can smell the Brut perfum against his neck, just like Priscilla said. She’s living every girl’s dream right now. Every crazy fangirl’s dream.

“Well then, I think we ought tah get tah know each other then, huh? Honey?” She practiced her soft smile in the mirror and she can only hope that it’s being reflected right now. She just barely moves her head in a nod. “I think so too.” Her eyes drink in every single behind road he takes, in hopes she can follow the path when this is all over.

He shrugs off his jacket, hanging it against the nearest chair’s back. “Darlin’... I jus’ can’t seem to place yer accent. Where did you say you’re from?” She has to make an active effort not to bite her lip, she doesn’t want to be that girl. She shakes her head. “I didn’t.” That crooked smile overcomes him. “Oh, right. Well, please do tell me.”

Crap. Now she has to think incredibly quickly. Her geography isn’t exactly the best and she’s never really cared to put in much interest in the timeline of America. “Up North.” His brows raise, “No spot spicific?” She’s quick to shake her head. “No...we travelled a lot.” His eyes go sympathetic, “Ah get that. Ah haven’t stopped traveling since this whole lot started.” She gets this look in her eyes, like she knows.

No one has ever before reached the level of fame he has. How could she know? How could she so convincingly act like she knows? But it feels so real, so much so that his heart and body feel all warm inside. “Yeah?” She replies, a one common word and yet it feels like it’s the perfect response. Not forcing him to go on, but rather inviting him to. Still, though, not at the same time. Leaving it open for him to decide if he says more or doesn’t.

“Yah mind if I go change into something more comfortable?” She’s quick to shake her head no. “Not at all.” It’s only warm smiles from him and to her and then back again. He seems reluctant to be away from her for even a bit. But when he does eventually pry his eyes from her, he speaks again. “Make yerself comfortable, little one.”

You have to stop yourself from gasping. The nickname reserved for Priscilla. And something you’ve done has made him deem you worthy for it. No one else has taken any notice of you. All brushing you off, that is what you wanted, you will admit. But you bought the VIP ticket with the intention of only catching a glimpse of him. Maybe even if you were somehow possibly lucky enough, a peck. Like he gives the front row girls.

Now, you’re in the famous International Hotel’s very own Elvis Presley’s residence and you’re damn sure you’re going to explode with joy. Or maybe even cry. Or hell, both! You know you shouldn’t snoop, having earned his trust, somehow. But you need to see this all, while you still have the chance. The universe could play some cruel joke and take this away from you any minute now.

Trinkets, of a price you can only imagine, scattered all over the place. A real, now not vintage, plate player. You gasp, quickly searching through the stack for your favourite song. You’re not really entirely sure how it works, you never could afford one of your own. Your fingers stumble, trying to get the needle to pick up the song.

Not that you have to put it on, large hands take the needle from you. Practiced, this is all he’s known, first try gets the needle to take. His voice plays from the record, his brow raises. “Yah like this one, darlin’?” The girl smiles, “I do, it’s my favourite.” He chuckles, “I jus’ sang this on stage, yah wanna listen tah it again?” Her lashes flutter like she can’t believe he’d ask such a question.

“I could listen to you reading the bible and still wouldn’t get bored.” You choose each word so specifically. And you knew he’d grin at that. “Is that so?” The girl smiles, her head tilts to the side. Again she seems to look deep into his soul. Into his true desires for gospel and the Word. Her brows furrow, her eyes get filled with this sort of hurt. She seems to be searching his face, inspecting every bit. He feels insecure, does she notice the way his cheeks are rounder? Or just how much she makes him sweat?

“Sit down, sweetheart.” Her voice takes this nurturing tone that he yearns for since his mama... When she takes his wrist and guides him over to the couch, he doesn’t protest. It’s the way she does it with so much love in each action. Even holding her hand out for him as he sits down, take the pressure off his soar knees.

She bends over, he can’t help but take a peak under her shirt. But his intentions seem so wrong when she places a tender kiss on his forehead. “You’re done performing. It’s just you and me now. I won’t judge, I wouldn’t dare even think of it. You can relax.” She mumbles, then presses another kiss against his forehead.

The girl, who’s name he has yet to ask, takes this huge pressure off his shoulders. He even lets out a sigh and sinks further into the plush cushions. His head leans back against the back of the sofa. He looks up at the pattern of the popcorn ceiling. A relaxed sigh comes from deep in his soul. Then, the lights turn off with a click.

It’s likes she just knows him. The stress just sort of falls away. “We’re caught in a trap...I can’t walk out...” she hums the lyrics of the song, she cups his cheek. She slightly tilts his head up to look up in the eyes. “Because I love you too much baby~” His breathing hitches at the sincerity of her words. His lip quivers and she frowns, her thumbs grazing over his cheeks to wipe away the tears pouring down.

She sits down next to him, he’s quick to hide his face in the crook of her neck, in shame that he’s crying. “That’s okay, Elvis. It’s okay, baby.” She coos, rubbing circles against his back. His large hands grab at her shirt. The material feels so rough and in all reality he wants to feel her bare skin. She coos again, cradling his head in her arms.

“C’mere, baby. C’mere my Satnin.” His head snaps up, his brows pull together. Now you’re panicking. Too far? Did you give yourself away? His large hands wrap completely around your waist. He cuddles his head in the valley of your breast. Holding you like one would a teddy bear. Especially when it’s thundering outside and it’s all you have to keep you safe.

And then...he just sobs.

Your one hand holds his shirt, so tightly your knuckles turn white. The other rakes your nails against his scalp. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear. “You’re safe, baby. Nobody’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. Cry all you need, booby.” And when she uses that nickname he just cries even harder. How? How does she know? All the sweet names his mama used to call him.

And how does she hold him, like he’s been craving to be held. Grasping onto him, with all her might. As if he might run away any moment. Taking all that he gives to her with gratefulness. God, he missed when people used to be grateful. When people used to ask for him and not just expect all of him all the time. When people were happy with whatever he gave and not expecting for him to die for their entertainment.

“You don’t need all those pills, baby. You don’t any of it. You’re just a darling boy who needs to be held. Ain’t that right, honey?” She coos as he rubs his tears off on her blouse. She doesn’t care. His hands slide under the shirt, gently tugging it off. He places wet open mouth sloppy kisses against her collarbone.

When he’s satisfied with her taste, he rubs his cheek against her neck. Down, down until he rests once again between your breasts. The soft feeling of your skin and the steady beat of your heart rhythm pulls him closer to sleep. He looked about settled, until he huffs, sitting up right again. She’s about to ask what’s wrong, before he shrugs off his silk pajama shirt.

She chuckles when he wraps himself like a vine around her again. “It’s okay, baby. I know you’re tired, sweetheart. So, so tired, hmm? Putting on such a good show, your mama would be so proud. I’m sure of it.” Again, you chose your words so carefully. Between exposing your position and cradling Elvis to sleep.

You cradle his head in your arms. Gently feathering your nails across his bare back. The other tucked under his hair, holding his face so close to her. Like they’re glued together in this skin-to-skin contact. “Sleep my darling Elvis. Your mama and Jesse is watching down. Looking over you. Protecting you. They’re so proud of you, Satnin. You can sleep easy now, it’ll all be okay.”

And you stayed in his arms, even as your arms and legs fell asleep and your back groaned from his weight. You didn’t dare move an inch. Besides the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you tried to keep your breathing steady.

All to keep him sleeping. He needs it so...he needs his rest...

So, here is the sitch. I usually really hate like time travel fics. Because they feel so poorly done and like such an easy cop out to me. But with the 16th recently I just couldn't stop thinking about he just needed to be held:( And then I discovered Elvis ASMR and that like made this thought even worse.

I thought about making a part 2 where it like shows the readers POV of like accidently time traveling and finding him but then I realised like, what's the point?? That doesn't add anything to this narrative. And like the whole chapter would just be the reader scheming to see him?? And like how they feel?? And like, what's the point, you guys already know how you feel??

But, this Elvis ASMR has like a whole bunch of scenarios and I thought about like writing something like this to futher the scenario. All of them usually end up in Elvis sleeping though, so maybe I'd just be more of the same thing? But I think it'd be nice to have something to read while you listen to it?? And I could call it the Sleepy Elvis series...

Um yeah, tell me what y'all think 🥰

[intern-seraph]

forget-me-not (Chp 1)

also on ao3

Summary: For the first time in your seven years alive, you meet someone new in your small town. Little do either of you know that your brief friendship will bind you together long, long after you are forced to part ways.

A/N: hi :)

shoutout to matcha twstjam for being my cheerleader thru this insane, ongoing journey

For those who have been following me on my socials, i'm sorry you know that this fic has been in the works for over a year as of last month. I was originally intending on publishing it only when it was complete, but it very quickly grew way out of hand and I realized that it would definitely not be complete any time soon. Still, I wanted to put it out into the world! So I decided to publish the first chapter! When will the rest come out? Who knows? I certainly don't lol ALSO the presence of forget-me-nots in the actual fic is, at most, debatable lmao i just thought it was a cool and fitting title

Anyways, I have a deep, desperate need for more jewishness in fan content, so I'm filling that dearth myself.

————

You peer out from behind the gnarled oak tree at the edge of the town park. Its trunk is almost half as wide as you are tall, and its boughs are so thick and heavy that the branches droop under their own weight. Once, there was a rope swing that hung from one of the thicker branches. It was destroyed in a storm a few years ago, and nobody has bothered to replace it since. As one of the few children living here, you don’t mind its absence much. After all, you only ever come here to read. Usually you sit on the other side of this very tree, enjoying the shade and the rustling leaves. However, today someone’s taken your spot. The stranger seems to be only a few years older than you, dressed entirely in black. Their clothes shimmer as light filters through the leaves, and you know that the fabric must be fine and expensive. Slivers of their pale skin peek out from the ends of their sleeves and the hem of their robe. It’s a far cry from the homespun woolen garments and rough, sun-kissed skin of your neighbors. The most bizarre thing about them, however, are their spiraling black horns.

You hug your book to your chest, unsure of what to do. You’ve never seen this child before, after all, and you know all of the other kids in town (all four of them, that is). Even worse, you just know that whoever this is must be rich and therefore important. Why are they here, of all places?

“Um…” You tiptoe over the tree’s massive roots and draw closer to the stranger. “Are you from around here?”

The stranger startles, and you yelp as the world burns bright green for a moment. With a grunt, you fall back and land squarely on your butt. You lie there for a second, blinking away the spots in your vision before your throat begins to tighten and tears form at the corners of your eyes. Beside you, the stranger’s blurry face appears. Your sniffling turns into sobs, and you cover your face with both hands as you start crying.

“H-hey,” says the stranger, touching you lightly, “don’t cry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

You wail even louder, rolling onto your side and curling up into a ball. The stranger pats your shoulder stiffly.

“I’m sorry,” they whisper, voice breaking. “Please don’t be scared.”

Finally, your crying peters out. You hiccup as you wipe your tears away on your sleeve. “I-I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say. The stranger remains silent. “That was magic, right? I scared you and you used your magic…”

“That’s okay. Are you hurt?” The stranger extends a hand into your field of view and hauls you up onto your feet with little effort. Now that you can see clearly, you lean closer to examine his face. He’s a boy around your age, you think. His cheeks are round and soft but you can see where his baby fat is starting to recede. His lips curl into a small pout, accentuated by the embarrassed flush coloring his cheeks. You can’t help but gawk at his electric green eyes. They’re so distinct that, without taking his horns into account, their color and slit pupils alone would tell you that he’s not human. When he notices you’re staring, he shifts back in discomfort. You jolt and giggle abashedly.

“No, I’m okay. Uh, who are you? Are you from around here?” You start to circle him, eyeing his odd features with interest. Are those scales crawling up the back of his neck? Why is the back of his robe moving so weirdly?

“No,” he mumbles. He holds something close to his chest. A book! “I’m… from really far away. My grandmother brought me with her to do some —” his nose scrunches up “— official business. But that’s boring so I left.”

“Won’t your grandma be worried?”

He puffs up like a particularly proud pigeon. “Nuh-uh. I’m big and strong so I can take care of myself!” As he speaks, the thing moving under his robe finally lifts enough to reveal itself: a thick, scaly black tail. It swishes from side to side as he practically preens. Cute. “What about you? You’re here all alone!”

“I know everyone here, duh.” You crouch down and pick up your book, then trot over to sit in your usual spot now that it’s empty. The stranger pouts at you, puffing out his cheeks. You turn your nose up at him. “This was my spot first.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. You can sit next to me, I guess.”

He blinks slowly at you, fingers tightening on his book, before he breaks out into a brilliant smile and plops down at your side. You take note of his sharp fangs. Part of you is tempted to touch them, but you restrain yourself well enough. “What’s your name?” asks the stranger.

You give it to him immediately, pausing to spell it out letter-by-letter just to show off. He nods, but when you ask him the same question, he balks.

“Is it okay if I don’t tell you? I don’t wanna… uh…” He waves his hands for emphasis. “I don’t want my grandmother to hear about me.”

“Well then what should I call you?”

“Hmm…” He furrows his brow and scrunches his eyes shut. Then, he gasps and beams at you. “Nickname! You can gimme a nickname!”

“A nickname, huh? How about…” Your voice trails off. You stare at him, pursing your lips. First, you glance up at his horns, then his tail (thumping against one of the oak tree’s roots), then back up at his horns. “Horn…ton? Yeah, Hornton!”

“That sounds weird.”

“Too bad! You’re Hornton now!”

Hornton rolls his eyes. He opens the book in his lap, clearly trying (and failing) to look smart and above-it-all, but you can see the pointed tips of his ears turning red. Giggling, you follow his lead and open your own book. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch his petulant expression melt into contentment while he reads. He’s cute like this. He’s cute in general — which is a thought that makes you want to gag — but you especially like his sweet little smile. Although you were loath to share your spot beneath the tree, he does make for good reading company. That is, he’s quiet and doesn’t take up too much of your personal space. Before you know it, the sun is setting.

You dog-ear your page and nudge Hornton. “Hey, it’s getting late. You should go back to your grandma.” Hornton jolts, but doesn’t react as violently as he did earlier. His tail thuds against the tree trunk.

“Oh, yeah. I gotta go!” He doesn’t move, only fidgeting with his robe. “Uh, thanks for sitting with me.”

“Why’re you thanking me? It’s no problem.” You pause and look away. Feeling your face grow hot, you say, “Will you be back again?”

“C-Can I?”

“Yeah! I mean, you’re a pretty decent reading buddy, so… yeah.”

“Yes! I’ll be back tomorrow!” He smiles so broadly that you think it must hurt.

“Cool! I’ll be here after noon, that’s when our classes are over.” You stand up and start patting your clothes to get rid of any dirt. Then, you turn and give Hornton a grin of your own. “‘S nice meeting you! See ya!”

He waves timidly, eyes wide and almost shimmering. You don’t give it too much thought, you just start sprinting back down the dirt road leading into town.

—

“Mister Crowley!”

You slam the front door open, practically vibrating with excitement. The schoolmaster yelps from further inside your house, then rushes over to greet you. He’s pouting, feathers positively ruffled. Gently, he grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a once-over.

“Now, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“I was at the park!” You grin and hold up your book.

Crowley sighs and shakes his head. He wags his finger at you as he starts walking you to the dining room. “Now, child, what have we said about staying out late?”

“Uh… tell you?”

“Indeed! I have been very generous with allowing you free reign of the town! Nevermind all your tchotchkes and trinkets! If you’ll be gallivanting around like this in the future, make sure to inform your very magnanimous guardian beforehand! I was about to send the entire neighborhood out to look for you!”

He probably wasn’t. You know him well enough to know that. But the concern is appreciated. “Sorry,” you say.

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Crowley mutters. He pulls out your seat at your little dining table and returns to his own chair. Just at a glance, you can tell that he’d tucked in to his dinner before you came home. As you pick up your fork, a soft little body butts up against your calf. You squeal with delight and duck under the table to scoop up Grim, your bratty street cat. He mrows petulantly, but lets you cuddle him. It had taken a week of relentless begging for Crowley to let you take Grim in, and you had to pinky promise to take good care of him. Then, your friends got the bright idea of trying to bind the cat to you as a familiar (despite your lack of magic), and while it hasn’t worked yet, it certainly helped warm Crowley up to the idea. Something about his sweet baby becoming a beast tamer. You’re not sure what that is, and you’re definitely not a baby, but if it works, it works.

The air is filled with the quiet clink of silverware. After a while, you speak up. “I met someone today.”

Crowley nearly chokes. He pounds on his chest, coughing into his fist. It takes a second for him to recover. “You what?”

“There was a boy at the park,” you explain, “we read together.”

“What did I tell you about talking to strangers?”

“Nothing, we already know everyone in town.”

His mouth opens and closes silently. Then, sighing, he shakes his head. “Well, yes, but you were supposed to say that we don’t talk to strangers.”

“He wasn’t scary or anything,” you lie, remembering how you startled each other.

“Very well! Be careful, though. If something were to happen to you, I don’t even know what I would say, er, do!”

You pointedly ignore that slip-up in favor of finishing your meal. Pushing your chair away from the table with a screech, you grab your dishes and your cat and say a quick “good night!” to your guardian.

—

First thing in the morning when you and Crowley arrive at the schoolhouse, you’re accosted by Ace and Deuce. It’s mostly Ace doing the accosting, really, but Deuce joins him in hanging on your back like the world’s heaviest and most annoying koalas. You shake them off and whip around to start wrestling with Ace. Deuce takes his loss better, choosing to sit on the grass and watch you and Ace play fight. Crowley clears his throat several times, probably to get your attention, but you’re preoccupied and he gives up quickly in favor of unlocking the door and stepping inside. There’s a holler nearby, a series of rapid footsteps, and another heavy body falls on you with a grunt.

“Epel!” you wheeze out, squirming on top of the also-squirming Ace. “Can’t breathe!”

“Oh!” Epel rolls off of you, and you roll off of Ace. “Sorry, looked like you were havin’ fun!”

“Was fun,” Ace mumbles, “until you two crushed me.”

“Oops.”

“You didn’t die, though,” you say before you get up. “Also you started it!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“How do you guys do this every morning?” says Jack as he trots up to join you all on the lawn. He rolls his eyes in a remarkable impression of his mother when she’s scolding all five of you. “We’ve gotta go to class.”

“Ace started it!” you repeat.

“Whatever, c’mon.” Jack hauls both you and Ace up by your forearms while you both giggle. He shakes his head, marching you both into the schoolhouse with Epel and Deuce hot on your tails.

"Ah, there you are! I was wondering what was taking you all so long. Take your seats! We have Professor Trein visiting from the city today for our lesson."

Ace groans as he flops into his seat. You lean over and smack his shoulder. Deuce takes his own seat beside you, trying his best to look enthused.

Professor Trein works in the capitol as a history professor for the university. While he's nice enough (and his familiar Lucius is cute and fluffy), every time he comes to give a lesson at your schoolhouse is somehow more boring than the last. You sink down in your seat, ready to daydream until class lets out. When Professor Trein takes Crowley’s place in front of the blackboard, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Without looking at him, you take the slip of paper Ace passes.

‘my mom wants u to come to a party tonite’

Aside from a time scribbled beneath the words, there’s no other information. Great. History lessons with Professor Trein followed by a party where you’ll be stuck at the kids’ table. Again. At least you have a few hours to hang out with your new friend after school.

—

After class, Epel hands out little brown sacks full of apples to everyone. “Ma ‘n Pa said that they’re ‘not fit to sell’ or somethin’, and Meemaw said I should give ‘em to all of you.” You sling your sack over your shoulder, say your “see you later!”s to your friends, and march off to the park.

Beneath your tree, Hornton is waiting. You sprint towards him, grinning, and he looks up at you with wide eyes before returning the smile. He has his book in his lap, open to a different page than he left on.

“Hi,” you say shyly, hugging your sack of apples to your chest. “Were you waiting long?”

“Not really. I mean, maybe? Dunno, I didn’t really notice.”

You sit next to him and set the apples between your splayed legs. Fishing a plump red one out, you wipe it on your blouse and offer it to him. “Here!”

“Why do you have apples?” He eyes it curiously, hand hovering over it.

“My friend’s family has an orchard so he gave us all some after class.” You wave the apple around. “Take it! They’re good!”

Hornton takes the apple. He inspects it in the sunlight for a moment, then takes a bite. His eyes light up as he sinks his teeth into the apple’s hard skin, and he demolishes the fruit in less than a minute. Licking the juice off of his lips and fangs, he mumbles a messy thanks. You just smile and bop your temple against his. As you pull your novel out of your bookbag, you take another apple from the sack and shine it on your trousers. Out of the corner of your eye, you spy Hornton staring longingly at the sack.

“You can take another if you want,” you say.

He jumps, green eyes going comically wide. Cheeks flushed a bright ruby-red, he snatches another apple from the sack and rubs it clumsily on his very expensive robes.

“Do you like apples?”

“I do now,” he replies. He’s visibly struggling to keep his attention both on you and the book in his lap.

Curious, you lean over his shoulder and try to make sense of the foreign words in his book. Your brow scrunches up. “What’re you reading?”

His body goes tense the moment you touch him, but he doesn’t flinch away. When you glance up at his face, his expression is more severe and excited than you’ve seen yet. “It’s about arky… archee… uh, it’s about buildings and art! And this is the chapter about gargoyles!” He jabs an excited claw against an illustration of a beastly statue whose jaw hangs open. Water pours down its chin. The page (and the ones preceding and succeeding it) is clearly more worn than the rest of the book. “We have a bunch at the — I mean, at home — and Grandmother saw that I really liked them so she gave me this book!”

“What’s a gargoyle?”

He looks at you like you just confessed to murder. Shaking his head, he flips back a few pages. “They’re ‘ornamental stone carvings of animals or people that project from the side of a building and serve as the spout of a gutter.’ You’ve seen one before, right?”

“No.” You lean in closer to inspect another illustration. “They’re weird.” He stares at you, aghast. You roll your eyes. “Cool weird. We don’t have these out here.”

"Oh… that's a shame. Maybe one day you could come see the ones in my home."

You peer up at him. "Maybe. I gotta ask Mister Crowley."

"Who's that?"

"I live with him. He's weird."

"Cool weird?"

"Weird weird." You nudge him with your shoulder. "Do you live with your grandma?"

"Yeah."

"So it's you and her and your parents?"

Hornton goes completely quiet. He fingers the gilded edge of the page. Softly, he mumbles, "They aren't here anymore."

"Oh. Mine too. That's why I'm with Mister Crowley."

“... Do you know what happened to them?”

You shrug and pluck another apple out of the sack. As you wipe it on your trousers, you reply, “Nah. I dunno if Mister Crowley knows, either. He says he found me in a box left outside the school. There was a note, but it only said my name.”

“Oh.” Hornton looks away. “That’s sad.”

“I guess.” You shrug again. “If they didn’t want me, I don’t want them neither.”

He stares at you, wide-eyed. All he manages is another quiet, “Oh.”

Scowling, you take a bite out of your apple. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Let’s just read.”

“Okay. I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He seems to wilt at your curt statement. You add, “Really, it’s fine. Please, I wanna get through another chapter before I have to go.”

“You’re going somewhere?”

“Yeah, some party at my friend’s house. It’s not even for him, so I dunno why I’m invited, but I think his mom invited everyone in town.” Another bite. You look over the words on the page, not really processing them. “So I gotta go in a couple hours.”

“That must be nice,” Hornton sighs. “Getting invited to parties all the time.”

“What? No, it’s boring. It’s just boring grownup stuff most of the time. It’s only fun when it’s a birthday party, and there’s only four other kids in town so those never happen.” You emphasize this with a long groan.

“Really?” He thinks on this for a moment. “I guess it’s like the parties Grandmother throws.”

“What kinda parties?”

“Uh, they’re… big and fancy, but there aren’t any kids at all. And I can’t go dance or talk to people. And… um… it’s a lot. I don’t like them that much.”

You watch him as his voice shrinks and his head droops. Gently, you bop your temple against his. He perks up a little. With a small smile, you say, “Maybe I can invite you to my birthday party this year. It’d be fun!”

For a moment, you’d swear his eyes water. He beams at you, reaching out to grasp your hand. “I’d like that.”

—

The party at Ace's house is full of tipsy adults while you and your friends drink your juice in a corner. Well, everyone except Ace. His mother parades him around to talk to the other adults who apparently know him. None of you envy him — he looks miserable.

It turns out that the party is for Ace's brother. He emerges from a side room with his girlfriend on his arm and introduces her as his fiancée. When Deuce gives you a questioning look, you lean over and tell him that that means they're going to get married. The adults cheer and sing and dance for hours longer; the celebration only pauses for bedtime (which is fine with you, the party was boring anyways).

The next morning, Crowley wobbles out of his room with most of his weight held up by his cane. He has a faint green tinge to his face, but that doesn't stop him from walking with you to the schoolhouse. This is all, of course, just to announce that class is canceled for the day. You gather with your friends and, after a brief argument, decide to play in the park together.

That's how you find yourself nearly tripping over a familiar figure sitting beneath the oak tree. Hornton looks up from his book, gasps, and reaches out to help steady you. You wheel your arms around haphazardly for a moment before you breathe out a sigh of relief. Then, you take in Hornton's face and gasp.

"Oh! You're here today!"

Before you can give a proper greeting, Ace hollers your name. Both you and Hornton turn to look at the four boys coming to join you. Ace stops, bare toes curling in the grass. He eyes Hornton warily, the sloppy heart painted around his left eye scrunching up. "Who're you?"

"Uh…"

"He's Hornton and he's my friend," you say for him.

"'Hornton?'" Epel repeats. He snorts. "That's a stupid name."

"It isn't my real name," mumbles Hornton.

"Your name is stupid, Epel," you snap. You cross your arms and stick out your tongue. He returns the gesture.

"You guys are children," says Jack. Epel appears comically devastated at the deadpan insult. You huff softly.

Deuce snorts. "You're the youngest!"

"By a month!"

"Your friends are loud," Hornton whispers. You nod. He picks at the page he's on, a tiny film of gold foil flaking onto his black claw. "Should I go?"

"No!" Your friends turn to stare at you. Hornton blinks slowly, pink tinting his cheeks. He smiles bashfully, shrinking a little into his robes. Ace, meanwhile, gets that certain spark in his eye that instantly makes you shoot him a glare in warning. He grins, showing off one of his missing baby teeth, but keeps his mouth otherwise shut.

"Wait, is this the kid you mentioned yesterday?" Deuce asks. He peers over at Hornton. "I thought you were kidding."

"Why would I kid about that? That'd be weird."

"'Cause you're weird," Epel mutters, and you lunge for him while he shrieks with laughter and ducks away.

"You've got pointy ears," says Jack, his own fluffy white ears swiveling towards Hornton before he turns to look at you, "kinda like your dad."

Ew. From your spot on the grass wrestling with Epel, you sit up. "Mister Crowley is not my dad."

"But you live with him?"

"So?"

"I live with my Meemaw," Epel adds. "She's not my mom."

"See?"

Hornton observes your conversation. He tilts his head and hums thoughtfully. "I live with my grandmother, that doesn't make her my mother."

"You talk funny."

"Epel!"

"What? It's true! He talks all fancy like Professor Trein!"

"Fancy?"

"Fancy!"

You roll your eyes and shove Epel. Ignoring his indignant squawk, you scurry over to sit beside Hornton. "Wanna hang out with us?"

He stares at you, mouth agape. Again, he smiles shyly. "You're really inviting me?"

"Duh," Ace drawls. "Why else would they ask?"

Hornton tucks his book into his robe. A tiny green light sparks at his fingertips for a moment as he does so. Then, he stands up. He holds his curled fists close to his chest, guarding. Ignoring his nerves, you grab his hands and use him as leverage to stand, too.

"Whaddya wanna play? Or talk about?"

"Uh… I don't know?"

"Do you guys think you'll ever get married?" Deuce blurts out. All 5 of you turn to stare at him. He goes pale before blushing furiously. "Wait, no, I mean —! Since Ace's brother's gonna get married I was thinking about it!"

You hum. "I'unno. Maybe? Mister Crowley cried last night when I asked him if I'd ever get married."

"Ew."

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna get married," Jack asserts. His tail swishes with excitement. "My mom and dad said that I'll know when I found 'the one.'"

"What does that mean?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. But they've been together for forever."

"True. Ace?"

He makes an exaggerated gagging sound. Complete with gestures. "No way! My brother and his fiancée are so gross with each other all the time! It's weird."

"It's gross 'cause he's your brother, dummy."

"And?"

"My mom's not married," Deuce says, plucking at the grass. "She says my dad was a… uh… a 'good-for-nothing scumbag'. She gets all sad when she talks about him, so I dunno about getting married."

"My Grandmother told me that I have to get married one day." Hornton shrugs. "But I don't really think about it."

"So you've never thought about your wedding?" you ask.

Ace shoves you. "You're the only one who has! You're always reading those kissing books."

"So?"

"Kissing books?" Hornton repeats.

"They're called romance and they're good!"

"Real life is grosser," says Ace. You shove him. "Hey!"

"What if we did our own wedding?" Jack interjects. Everyone pauses to look at him. "It can be like training. For when Ace's brother has his, I mean."

"Yeah but who would be who?" Deuce glances over at you, then Hornton. "Why don't you guys play the people getting married?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah! Me 'n Ace 'n Jack 'n Deuce will put up the… the thing!"

"Thing?"

"A chuppah! We gotta make a chuppah!"

"We gotta get some big sticks!"

"I think I saw some branches over on the other side of the tree."

"Nice, Jack! Hey, you 'n Hornton should make some rings! We'll be right back!" Deuce scurries off with the other boys, leaving you and Hornton standing in a stunned silence.

“What?”

“I guess we’re playing wedding?” You shrug and start looking for wildflowers. Hornton watches you with wide eyes. You glance over at him. “C’mon! Help me make the rings!”

He crouches down next to you. Giving you a helpless look, he holds his hands to his chest in hesitation. “Um… how do we do that?”

“We’ll get some flowers and tie the stems! Like making flower crowns! Oh oh oh! We should make flower crowns, too!”

“Oh. I’ve never made a flower crown before. Can you show me?”

“Yeah!” You kneel next to him with a fistful of brightly-colored wildflowers. Hornton watches in rapt attention as you slowly weave their stems together, forming a ring just big enough to fit you as a bracelet. He claps when you present it. Then, without a word, you reach up and drop it onto one of his horns. Hornton sits in stunned silence for a moment before he blushes and mumbles a quiet thanks. He takes the leftover flowers and carefully weaves a crown for you, this one large enough to actually be a crown. His brow furrows as he finishes the crown and then places it on your head. Giggling, you touch the petals. “Thank you, honey!” “H-Honey?”

“Yeah! That’s what the ladies in my romance books call their gentlemen! If we’re getting married I should call you that!”

“Oh!” He smiles, shoulders hunched, then grabs one of the few remaining flowers. “Here, uh, honey. I’ll make your ring.” He winds the stem around your left ring finger, sticking his tongue out in deep concentration. Once he’s knotted the stem, he uses a claw to snip off the excess. Without your prompting, he holds out his own left hand for you to do the same.

“We match!” you whisper-shout, holding your hand next to his.

“Mhm!” His tail thump thump thumps behind him. “Wait, let me try something…” Hornton leans over and touches your flower crown and ring. A bright green light envelops the both of you, and you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. Once it fades, you crack open one eye. The flowers seem unchanged.

“What’d you do?”

“I tried a spell my Grandmother taught me. It’s s’posed to keep plants from withering!” He twists the flower ring on his finger. “I mean, I don’t know if I did it right, but if I did then we’ll always have these!”

“I like that.” You take off your own ring and cradle it in your palm. “I like it.”

A holler from Epel breaks your focus, and you turn to look at the oak. Beneath it, the boys have stuck four massive branches in the ground. Now, they’re arguing over who will give up their jacket to use as a canopy. Beside you, Hornton sighs and takes off his cloak. With a flick of his wrist, it floats up to rest atop the branches and shade the ground beneath it. The boys shut up, seeing the matter settled.

“Okay, I think we gotta start with… uh…” Deuce frowns and scrunches up his nose. After a long moment of deliberation, he looks at the rest of you helplessly.

“You gotta give each other your rings!” Ace shouts.

You tilt your head. “But we already did that while you were getting the sticks.”

“Then give them back and do it again!”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you gotta!”

You roll your eyes but slide the flower ring off your finger. Hornton does the same, cradling his delicately in his palm. You drop yours in his hand and take his. Pinching the stem between your fingers, you glance over at Ace. “Aren’t you supposed to say something?”

“I’m not the one who’s… uh…” His nose scrunches up as he thinks for a moment. “Mom called them an o-fish-ant?”

“You’re not a fish,” Deuce supplies helpfully.

“It’s ‘officiant’, stupid,” you interject. “Did you guys even pick someone for that?”

“I’ll do it,” says Jack, “‘cause if I don’t, this’ll never be done. And then I’ll miss lunch and my mom will yell at me.”

“You’re taking this way too seriously.” Ace folds his arms behind his head. “We’re just playing!”

“A wedding’s a wedding.”

“Whatever, do your fish thing!” “It’s ‘officiant’!”

Jack clears his throat. You and Hornton turn to give him your rapt attention. His nose scrunches up and one fluffy ear flicks at the air a few times before he begins speaking. “Uh, we’re gonna… start with you giving each other your rings.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “... Go on. Do it.”

You raise your left hand dutifully, and Hornton slides the flower ring onto your finger. You do the same for him. Both he and Jack look so serious about this that it’s hard not to giggle. “Okay, now what?”

“Um…”

“Oh! I remember one’a my cousins got married and she walked ‘round her husband a bunch!”

“That sounds weird.”

“It was! But she did it!”

“How many times did she do it?”

“I dunno.”

“Wouldn’t you get dizzy?” Deuce mumbles.

“I mean, she seemed fine.”

You glance at Epel, shrug, then look back at Hornton. “Wanna do it?” He nods eagerly. Again, you try not to giggle. Hornton beams. “Okay, I’ll go first! Epel, how many times should I do it?”

“Uh… I dunno, until you start getting dizzy?”

“Bet I can do more than you,” you whisper to Hornton. He stares at you, wide-eyed, then grins so sharply you barely recognize him.

“Bet you’re wrong.”

You both laugh. Taking a deep breath, you start to walk around and around and around Hornton. He spins with you, wobbling. Meanwhile, your friends count every lap. One, two, three, four — you get to seven, and decide to tap out. Hornton puffs out his chest and, a little green in the face, starts circling you, instead. He also makes it to seven.

“Aw,” you mutter. “It’s a tie.”

“I totally could’ve beat you if I went first.” You stick your tongue out at Hornton. He giggles to himself. Then, he turns to Jack. “So, uh, what next?”

“Umm…” Jack’s face screws up in contemplation. His ears swivel back and forth for a moment, before he hesitantly replies, “Uh… you’re married now?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” you say.

“Aren’t we s’posed to… kiss?”

You stare at Hornton, who appears just as flustered as you now feel. “I think so.”

“Wait!” Ace reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves a small pinecone. He sets it on the ground between you and Hornton. “You’re supposed’ta crush it first!”

“Isn’t it supposed to be glass?” Jack asks, and Ace shoves him. “Hey!”

“Do you wanna go get glass to step on?”

“... No.”

“‘Kay, then pinecone it is!” He gestures enthusiastically at the pinecone. “Crush it! Go! Go! Go!”

You squeeze Hornton’s hand, giggling, and in unison you both lift a foot and crush the pinecone under your feet. It gives a loud, crackling crunch, and its little seed pockets burst and go flying. Your friends hoot and holler in celebration.

“‘Kay, now you need to kiss!” Ace declares.

Hornton turns beet red. “Kiss?”

“Like, for real?” you squeak.

“Uh, yeah, otherwise it’s not a wedding.”

You fidget with your ring, face hot. Hornton stares at you with wide, uncertain eyes. All the while, your friends (well, everyone but Jack) chant, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You’re the one to take the initiative. Squeezing your eyes shut, you lean in and give Hornton a brief, chaste kiss. It lasts only for a second, and from his startled squeak, it’s almost as if he expected that nothing would ever happen. Behind you, Epel and Ace gag dramatically.

“Ewww, you actually did it!” Epel shakes you by the shoulders and cackles through his words. “Gross!”

“You wanted us to kiss!” you protest. Before you can say more, he lifts you on his shoulders. Your words become a shrill squeal, and you can see Ace and Deuce struggling to lift Hornton, as well. “EPEL! PUT ME DOWN!”

“You’re married!” he crows. “You kissed someone!”

For his part, Hornton buries his face in his hands while Ace and Deuce finally manage to lift him up together.

“Uh… mazel tov,” Jack mumbles.

“We’re not actually married!” Even as you say this, you can’t help your rosy cheeks, nor the way your heart races as you meet Hornton’s electric gaze. He smiles bashfully as he grips Ace and Deuce’s shoulders for balance.

Hours later, after you and Hornton and your friends have spent the rest of the day dancing together and chatting and playing tag, you and Hornton are the only ones left at the park. Everyone else went home as the sun began to set. You run your fingers over your ring’s petals, fascinated by their softness.

“Did you have fun?” you ask, voice small. “I know my friends can be a lot…”

“Yeah.” A faint flush brings life to Hornton’s pale face. He smiles, and the sun casts him in gold. “I haven’t had this much fun in forever. Thank you.” For a moment, he hesitates, then he reaches to grab your hand. “Um… will you be here tomorrow?”

You nod, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Mhm! Do you… wanna read together, maybe?”

It’s as if the sun is rising again when he beams. He gives your hand a squeeze. “I’d like that.”

Though you’re loath to leave, you force yourself to give Hornton a squeeze in return before you pull back. “I gotta go before Mister Crowley starts worrying. Bye, Hornton.”

“Goodbye.”

—

When you go home, you can’t stop yourself from spinning the flower ring on your finger. Crowley asks you what you’re giggling about over dinner, and all you do is grin and show him the ring and crown. He rolls his eyes, muttering about children and their whimsies (whatever that means), and shoos you off to bed once you’ve finished and cleaned up. Before you crawl under the covers, you take off the flowers and place both pieces delicately on your nightstand.

The next day, once school is over, you run to your oak tree. You’re wearing your ring again, unable to stop looking at it and its perfectly-maintained petals. With an excited shout of “HORNTON!” you swing around to the other side of the tree.

And it’s empty.

Your heart drops.

‘Maybe he’s doing something with his grandma?’

The next day, you approach your tree again, less enthused and more nervous. He’s not there.

‘I thought we were gonna play together again.’

Day after day, you check your tree. Day after day, you’re greeted with no sign of the boy you’d started to befriend. Spring turns into summer. Ace’s brother gets married, and all you can think about during the ceremony is a scaly black tail thump thump thumping against the ground. When the leaves of your oak tree begin to turn gold and orange and red, you stop checking.

The ring and the flower crown remain just as pristine as they were the day they were made. You leave the crown on your dresser and wear the ring to class every day.

Years pass. You grow up. Your friends start taking extra lessons after classes a few times a week to train their magic. A new teacher from the city starts to visit, a young man named Divus Crewel. He teaches chemistry and alchemy, and you take to it like a fish to water. The private lessons you get from him almost help to soothe the beast of envy that grows in your chest every time you leave your friends to their magic classes. By the time you turn 13, the ring no longer fits. You keep it and the crown in a little wooden box tucked lovingly beneath your bed. Sometimes, you take them out and marvel at how little they’ve changed. Your friends, however, change just as rapidly as you do. Their magical prowess grows at a startling rate. You content yourself with cheering from the sidelines and working on your alchemical skills. Ace and Deuce try to bind Grim to you as a familiar first when you’re 16 (It doesn’t work, but your hair briefly catches fire). They next try when you’re 18 (It almost works. Crowley says it may have to do with your utter lack of any magic. You try not to feel resentful.). At last, on your 19th birthday, they succeed. It’s quite possibly the best gift you’ve ever gotten; Grim’s life is prolonged for as long as he’s bound to you.

By 20, you and your friends (by some miracle) all get accepted to the university in the city, the same one that Professors Trein and Crewel teach at. You start working under Crewel as a student alchemist (He says you’re one of his most promising students, especially because you have no magic to use as a shortcut. For once, you don’t wilt at the mention of magic.). You see your first real gargoyle on one of the older campus buildings. You take a photo, your mind conjuring up a fanged grin and excited electric green eyes. ‘Does Hornton still like gargoyles?’ you wonder as you save the photo. Years later, at your graduation ceremony, you take another photo of the gargoyle. Now, it’s decorated with a few fabric-flower leis that your fellow graduates managed to get over its head. ‘Look, Hornton, the gargoyle is celebrating, too!’

You return to your hometown after receiving your degree. Crowley graciously allows you to stay at home (although you suspect he might just like having another hand to help around the house) while you continue your work as an alchemist. Crewel has hired you full-time as a lab assistant. Every day you take the train into the city for work. Sometimes, when you get all caught up in your head and the novelty of watching the world pass by through the window, you find yourself reaching for your left ring finger to twist a ring that isn’t there.

‘It’s been almost twenty years,’ you chastise yourself, ‘why are you still thinking about that boy?’

Despite your age, your experience in romance is limited to the cheesy romance novels and cheap bodice-rippers that populate your bookshelf, interspersed between your textbooks and notebooks. For some reason, you could never bring yourself to try dating. Every time the thought comes to you, you feel the phantom sensation of a soft stem wrapped around your finger. Your friends tease you about it. Ace calls you a dweeb. Epel says you’re acting foolish over a stupid game you played as children. Deuce laughs and does a pantomime of your fake wedding. Jack just shakes his head knowingly. He’s the most understanding about it — wolves mate for life, and he gets why you would take a play-wedding to heart. That doesn’t stop him from getting a jab or two in on occasion, though.Some days, you pull the box out from under your bed and look at the flowers. As always, they look just as perfect as the day they were picked. Now that you’re older, you’ve learned more about magic. The spell required to make and maintain such perfect preservation requires both skill and a wellspring of magic. The amount of magic alone would send most experienced mages into overblot. This only stokes your curiosity. How did Hornton, a child hardly older than you, cast such a spell with ease? Who was he? It’s a question that haunts you. It’s a question you know you’ll never get an answer to.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

HIHIHIIHI!!! i luv luv LUVVVV your writing!! you're one of my favorite writers on this app fidhuhgseuhsdfsifj ><

may i request some fluff (or smut; whichever you prefer!) with leon wherein the reader is an artist, and she has this lil notebook filled to the brim with sketches (whether that be normal sketches or... spicy ones) of leon but she hasn't shown leon the notebook BUT he ends up finding it and teasing her??

AND (if you DO write it as smut) WHAT IF READER DREW SOME SKETCHES OF SEX POSITIONS AND LEON USES THOSE POSITIONS WHE THEY HAVE SEX!?!??!?!?!? I'M GOING CRAZY OVER THIS THOUGHT RN DJFHSIDFUHIU

keep up the good work with all the writing you do!! you're an amazing writer, and i hope you have a great day :>

Hello my angels!! Thank you guys again for 400 followers im forever grateful for you guys. i was so fond of this little plot i HAD to write but it’s def not my best. Happy monday <3

DISCLAIMER: This is an 18+ blog! If you are underaged or don’t have an age indicator in your bio, please don’t interact!

AFAB Artistic reader x Pre Re4 Leon

Warnings: Leon’s a little tease. Mentions of ripping clothing, couch sex, Leon’s pretty soft in this :)

Word count: 3,050

Meeting Leon was just a lucky coincidence, almost four years ago now. The worst job you swore you’d ever had, but that changed once you met Leon. Instead of typing the files in the computer, your foot tapped against the marble flooring.

“That’s really good.. Do you draw often?”

You slammed your notebook shut, scared your boss had caught you again. Your eyes glanced up to the man peering over the desk, a tight gray t-shirt on and a pair of cargo pants.

“So sorry, sir. Are you here for training?”

Your fingers pressed against the keys of your desktop as you stared up at him, waiting for an answer. He looked like his ego had been beaten down when you didn’t reply to him, nodding his head at you.

“Yeah, um, Kennedy, Leon.”

You wrote his name down on the paper, handing him the small slip with a grin.

———-

She was new, I think. Her hair was pulled into that pretty bun, dazed as ever. Pretty pencil skirt and an off-white long sleeve. Beautiful handwriting, too, Leon’s thumb brushing over the slip in his hand, pulling out his wallet to shove the slip inside.

The next day he hoped you’d be sitting there, looking bored out of your mind. His arm pushed against the heavy glass door; he couldn’t help but smile seeing you at your desk. Why is he smiling?

“Busy day?”

Leon couldn't help but smile as you jumped in your seat, slamming the notebook shut- again. Your little smile tugged at your glossed lips as you held at the pen, scribbling his name.

“Goodbye, Leon.”

Your teasing voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He grabbed the red slip in your hand, dragging the bag off your desk as he walked down the hall again.

——————

For days, even weeks after. Leon would always ensure he showed up early, fascinated by your presence and the way you scribbled his name on the notepad on your desk when he would say something to make you blush.

“Hey, so… remember that sushi restaurant I told you about?”

Leon’s first words as he walks up to the desk, placing his bag on your file as you roll your eyes, nodding up at him as you type something into the computer.

“What about it?”

You ask as you push your rolling chair back, waiting by the printer as it turns on. Your head leans back as you look at him. He looked handsome as ever today. His training was working, that’s for sure, his shoulders being so much broader and his arms becoming so defined with muscle.

“Well, today is my last day of training. Did you want to go out with me as a celebration?”

It wasn��t for celebration; Leon just finally had an excuse to ask you out. Spending almost three months talking to you and getting to know you, yet he has never asked you to dinner. Your face lit up as you rolled back to the computer, stapling the papers together and using it as an excuse to cover the bright red that invaded your cheeks.

“Sure- what time?”

You asked up to him, clearing your throat as your hand rubbed your cheek to make it seem like you weren’t blushing. Cute, Leon thought as his tongue brushed over his bottom lip.

“Seven? I can pick you up.”

Even offering to pick you up? Your heart was in your throat as you nodded shyly, smiling as you wrote your address on a sticky note and handed it to him.

“I’ll be ready.”

You handed him his pass along with the sticky note of your address, his eyes reading over the number over and over before he smiled at you, tapping your desk a few times and walking down the hall as he does every single day.

———-

Why so shaky? The knocking on your door echoed through your living room, your hands brushing through your hair again as you did a small circle in your mirror.

You thanked god you wore heels, quickly glancing through the peephole to see Leon. He made your heart jump just by standing there. You swore he looked you up and down when you opened the door- but this was one-sided. You were so in love with him. Your coworkers make fun of you when you’re on your break, eyes following him from the expansive open training rooms.

Obsession was a strong word- but even you could admit it was getting to the point of obsession. You hoped after he left the facility, you wouldn’t have to see him again, especially since it was his last day, but he just had to ask you to dinner, didn’t he?

“Are you ready?”

Leon asked as he looked around your apartment, scanning all the books on your shelf. You wanted to say yes, but your hand reached up, your eyebrows frowning as you noticed you weren’t wearing the necklace your brother had gotten you.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be back.”

He couldn’t help but watch you walk down your hallway, fingers tapping at your sides like at work. Snoopy, maybe. His eyes darted down to the notebook on your coffee table. It’s the one you always have on your desk. Light purple with random stickers all over the front and back. His fingers traced over where your name was carved before he looked down to the hall to check if he was clear to look through it. The first few pages are drawings of the statues at work, the plants, yourself, and your glossy lips. His eyebrows frowned at the empty pages, going on for almost five before he finally saw it. His name was written in your pretty cursive; below was the soft sketch of his face, his handsome smile, and the small indent in his chin. Sketch after sketch of him leaning over your desk with the cheekiest smile.

The next page sketches his lips, his tongue darting out slightly through the corner in one and pressed together in another. Sketches of the way his eyes sparkle next to them.

His slender fingers traced the page looking at the sketches of his arms, some with his knife in his hand, some just holding a water bottle. He peeped his head down the corner of the hallway again, hearing the echo of your voice on the phone. His fingers moved before his eyes as he flipped the page, his cheeks flushing a deep red at the sketches of his hands rubbing up your waist. Now he was paying attention, graphics of his fingers in your mouth, your legs thrown over his shoulders, his head thrown back, and his Adam’s apple more than prominent.

“Leon?”

You stuttered, your heart pounding against your chest. Your breath feels so caught in your throat, your eyes staring at his hands holding the spine of your notebook. You blink into reality, snatching the notebook from him as you firmly have it against your chest.

“Why.. would you go through my things..”

You laughed, embarrassed, as Leon stared at you. His presence was now super overwhelming. He just.. stared at you. Great, now he hates me? He thinks I’m so weird…

“Why’d you just leave it out?”

What? Jesus fucking Christ, what?

“It’s my apartment; what do you mean..”

You laugh bitterly as you push the notebook onto your shelf, your hands slightly shaking.

“I didn’t draw any of that. I left it at work for a few days, so maybe it was stolen or something.”

There we go. Perfect excuse. Leon’s feet shuffled till he was standing beside you, pulling the notebook off the shelf next to you.

“Alright, that’s understandable. If they aren’t yours, you wouldn’t mind me looking through them again.”

Your face flooded with embarrassment. Your back turned to him as your eyes squeezed shut at the sound of him flipping through the pages.

Leon felt his pants grow tighter at the sketch of your pretty folds wrapped around his cock, then the illustrations of just your pussy made his cock grow painfully harder, your eyes shifting between the notebook and the bookshelf. There were pages after pages of just Leon and you, sometimes just Leon, small notes here and there. The last page is a sketch of the two of you hugging and a small note

“Seven, Leon’s sushi place”

Leon, yet again, closed the notebook, laying it on the shelf as you held your arms, sighing at his silence. His hand rubbed your arm softly, taking your hand in his. He rocked behind you, resting his cheek on the side of your head.

“Cmon’ let’s go eat.”

———-

The drive back to your apartment was so silent. Your head spun as you looked out the window, admiring the pretty night sky. Leon’s handheld at your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles on your smooth skin. Biting at your nails nervously, your head turns to Leon. Why did he have to be so handsome? Hand gripping the steering wheel, hair perfectly rested against his cheek. The white button-down he wore fit him so perfectly. He believed you, right? You felt guilt in your heart, thinking about how you sat at your desk, legs crossed so close together at the thought of Leon fucking you stupid. It’s not everyday you meet a man like him. You craved him, but you would never tell him that. Leon’s car stopped, your daydreaming stopping as he pulled his keys and shoved them in his pocket. What a gentleman, he opens your door for you, holding his hand out. Your hand grabbed at his as you stepped out, holding your purse to your side as you whispered a small thank you to him as you reached for your keys.

The two of you stopped in front of your door, your heart starting to ache at the thought of never seeing him at work again, all the conversations you guys have had. The silence was uncomfortable now; you looked up at Leon with a slight frown before you reached up and brought him in for a tight hug, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he hugged you back.

“I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”

You laugh into his shoulder. He laughs back in response as he pulls away from the hug, your hand reaching to unlock your door as he watches you. You step inside your dark apartment, looking at him from the door with a gentle smile still on your face.

“I’ll call you, I promise.”

Leon speaks as he watches you stand against the door frame.

“Bye.”

“Bye, Leon.”

The door slams. Why are you going to cry? Is it because he thought you were a massive creep? You held onto the wall as you kicked off your heels, sighing in frustration as you threw your purse to the ground. Your body jumped at the pounding at the door. Though you were taught better, you swung it open. Leon stood his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

“Le-“

Leon pushed his way into your apartment, his perfect hands cradling your face as he smashed his lips into yours. Your feet struggled to keep up with him moving you back into your living room. Where did this come from? His hands hungrily gripped at your hips, your thighs hitting the arm of your couch. Leon's head dipped down your neck, pressing his tongue to the softness of your skin.

“Leon, wait..”

Your eyes flutter open as you reach down, grabbing his face. Leon stared up at you, his breathing labored.

“What happened?”

Your thumb rubbed across his cheek as he stood, pulling you in closer to him.

“You think I don’t want you? Do you know how hard it was not to bend you over this couch after flipping through that notebook?”

He grumbled as he turned you around, pressing his palm up your back as he bent you against the arm of your sofa. Your back arched in response as you looked back at him with red cheeks.

“Every word I've ever said to you makes you blush like that, you know.”

He’s right. But it’s hard not to blush when he compliments your every detail. Leon’s fingers dragged the zipper down your back, his lips following. So much softer than you had imagined. He stood again, tugging at your sleeves, smiling at your bare back. You gasped as you heard a slight tearing, your head flying back to see Leon had ripped your dress. Leon chuckled as the fabric of your dress dropped to the ground, his hands brushing over your hips.

“I’ve always loved watching you grab papers, your hips swaying.”

Leon smirks against your shoulder, his lips pressing against your neck again, your breathing shaky as he sucks at your skin. His pretty lips leave red patches all over your skin that will later be small purple markings that’ll be so prominent. Leon lifts himself, grabbing you to lie on your sofa, smiling down at you as his fingers work at unbuttoning his shirt.

It all felt like a dream, Leon’s shirt dropping to your floor as he tugged his dress pants down his legs. Hypnotized by him, the way his arms flex when he comes to hover over you, his hands holding at your thighs as he drags you further down the couch, his lips pressing against yours again. Leon’s lips ghosted over your skin as he stared at you through hooded eyes. Your eyes roll slightly when his fingers press over your clothed clit, rubbing small circles into you as he licks over your chest, leaving his marks on you there too. Your hips buck into his hand, a laugh coming from his lips as he pulls back, staring down at you as he pushes your panties aside, his fingers slipping into you with ease. Your mouth hangs open slightly as you stare at him.

“So wet.. all for me?”

Leon’s voice was so husky, so different than it usually was; you couldn’t help but let out a moan as his fingers dragged over your walls, your body lifting onto your shoulder as you looked down, your hips tilting up slightly to watch his fingers push in and out of you. The feeling was intoxicating, your head throwing back as he used his other hand to rub at your clit.

“You like watching? Watching how greedy this little pussy is..”

Leon couldn’t help but moan himself as you tightened around his fingers, his eyes staring down at you, sucking in his fingers. He groans as he tugs his boxers down, a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of his fingers no longer filling you. His hands grab at the back of your knees, holding them with one of his larger hands as his other hand grabs ahold of his cock, which was painfully hard. His lips parted slightly as he pressed himself into you, his grip around your leg tightening at the feeling of you squeezing him. He was so thick, so much bigger than what you could handle, a whimper leaving your lips as he pushed himself into you more. His hand drops your legs resting against his waist as he leans over you, grabbing at your jaw to pull you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue pressing into your bottom lip as he fully bottoms himself into you, causing you to gasp into his mouth. Leon let out a soft whimper as he leaned up, holding at your thighs as he rocked into you. You looked so beautiful finally lying below him; he had waited for this too fucking long.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking me like this..”

Leon groans down at you as your hands reach for his shoulders, pulling him back down to press his chest against yours as his speed increases. His face comforts your shoulder as your hands grab at his back, your nails scraping at his back as he lifts your hips, the new angle making him hit that perfect spot.

“I- Leon!”

Leon nodded his head as he looked down at you, forehead glistening with his sweat and his hair sticking to his skin.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He knew because you were gripping him so tightly, he was fighting his hardest not to let himself go inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he watched you squirm beneath him, warmth flooding your stomach and your breaths increasing as he pushed his palm into your stomach. Random babbles leave your lips as your arm comes up, covering your face as you cum around him, your walls fluttering against him, causing a loud groan to escape his lips as he pulls himself out of you, moving your hand from your stomach as his cum splatters all over your soft skin.

You two stare at each other, catching your breath. His arms reach forward, moving your arm from your flushed face.

“There you are.”

He mumbles as he kisses you softly, standing up and reaching down to pull up his boxers. He’s gone for almost two minutes, yet you’re still lying on the couch, eyes studying the ceiling.

“You organize your laundry room weirdly.”

Leon’s voice makes you tilt your head, watching him walk back into the living room. He leans over, wiping your stomach with the small rag in his hand, your lips tugging into a smile as you reach forward, touching his face. He peers down at you, smiling back as he helps you sit up, his fingers pushing your hair behind your shoulders.

“You want a shower?”

He asks softly as he sits beside you and wraps his arm around you as you lean your head against his shoulder.

“I just want to be with you.”

You mumble, your eyes closing as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“I’m not leaving anytime soon; I think you’re stuck with me.”

Leon speaks as he lifts your chin, kissing your forehead softly before he stands up, lifting you over his shoulder, causing a loud squeal to leave your lips as he taps the skin of your thighs with a smile.

“Let’s shower. Then you can show me more drawings, yeah?”

[weebsinstash]

Now that I saw that doodle Vox made again, I'm just wondering how tf he knew Alastor has hooves

Also noticed that he was a lil fixated on Al's ass in that same doodle so there's that :>

I literally searched the Hazbin wiki for the source and couldn't find it but I've seen multiple people posting some screenshot of some website that says, Velvette previously stated Vox had an Alastor body pillow, and I don't know if that's an old Voxtagram post or more recent but it's been living in my head rent free ever since

Like there have been so many Viv streams and q&a's that have mildly spoiled things or mentioned facts that have since become non canon so I'm not sure what to listen to anymore but dude, reading the wiki of all the amalgamated facts is A TRIP. Vox is Actually Totally Correct: despite Alastor having his gentlemanly persona and some weird "serial killer moral code, like dexter", he canonically has awful oral hygiene and both Vivzie and... Fautisse? Have mentioned this. His demon form has black gums. Vivzie said he "probably doesn't prioritize oral hygiene" and also probably wasn't a cannibal in life so that's literally a new hobby he picked up in death so also um. THE SECOND THIS MAN HAD FREE REIGN AND THERE WAS NO RULE OF LAW OR CONSEQUENCES HE DECIDED TO START EATING PEOPLE SO LET THAT SINK IN.

You start reading Alastor's wiki page and it makes it pretty clear he's like DERANGED, hypocritical, he's like borderline a megalomaniac? It's all hidden behind this, persona, this wall he puts up, his well put together demeanor that allegedly never cracks, but underneath his showmanship he's a haughty, insecure, judgy, gossipy, genuine FREAK who responds with insults and violence whenever he can who relishes in trolling people and scaring them, literally enjoys knowing when he's making people uncomfortable

I have so many conflicting feelings but like PRETTY SURE HIS VERSE IN THE FINALE WAS A VILLAIN SONG, HE'S LITERALLY SINGING ABOUT BEING PISSED AND WANTING TO RETALIATE BECAUSE HE'S BEING FORCED TO DO STUFF HE DOESN'T WANT TO

THUS

I AM CONVINCED VOX IS JUST A BOTTOM AND A SLUT WHO THINKS ALASTOR IS JUST REALLY COOL AND HAS A ONE SIDED PATHETIC BOY CRUSH

Bro the sound I fucking made when his wiki trivia says he's been described as "painfully white, like phlegm in the back of your throat white" NO DONT DO MY TV MAN LIKE THIS 😭🤣

Anyways, you've probably seen the posts but for someone who claims to be so hip and modern, Vox goes out of his way to dress similarly to Alastor. The coat with lapels in the front and a tail in the back, a bow tie with a cravat, cuffed sleeves, intentionally or not the color contrast of Vox's hands resembles Alastor's and Vox CAN customize his body...

He's just. I just completely forget sometimes that Alastor literally called him OLD PAL in episode 3 and yes he was obviously saying it to talk down to him but like ALASTOR DID ACKNOWLEDGE HISTORY BETWEEN THEM, and also oh wait what's this, Vivzie has confirmed Vox and the Vees are major antagonists of Season 2 and that Vox and Alastor's history is going to be expanded upon so.... radiostatic shippers stay winning ha ha

I read a post that I meant to reblog that was something like "Vox is actually an incredibly cunning charismatic manipulative businessman who is a legitimate threat and we see this for all of 5 minutes and the second Alastor is mentioned he starts completely coming apart" and it's SO TRUE, he can be ur angel or ur devil. He's a legitimately OP threat and he's also A PATHETIC SAD FAILHUSBAND. Give me Vox who's efficiently marketing more hypnosis equipment to substantially grow his own wealth and manipulating his shareholders and then he's going back to his computer room with some popcorn and kicking his little feeties as he watches his darling and Alastor on like 30 different monitors. Give me Vox who can know the INSTANT someone is trying to go behind his back and double cross him because he has mass surveillance all over the city and he's using his endless resources to develop high end 3d printers to make posable figures of his crush and Alastor.

Give me Vox who loses his cool and insults you to your face and you two get into a huge argument and maybe Velvette and Valentino lash out at you in defense of him and he's going to his room and crying from frustration into his body pillows totally not plural, totally not ones of you and Alastor and calling himself a stupid idiot because he hurt your feelings and then spends the next like week SUFFOCATINGLY showing up almost every single place you are and embarrassing himself as he tries to bond with you and prove to you what CLEARLY AWESOME boyfriend material he is

[mj-iza-writer]

"It started with yelling", Caretaker recalled as they spoke to the doctor privately while a nurse helped Whumpee into a sling.

"Whumpee had been asleep for a few hours already. I myself was getting ready to get into bed when I heard frantic movements coming from their room", Caretaker sighed, "I was on my way to check on them when I heard their yelling for help, I heard them fall. By then, I rushed to open the door. I saw them crash into the door frame and fall to the ground."

The doctor sighed, "they've definitely broken their collarbone. It could have been from falling or running into the doorframe. We're not sure, and they won't tell us. They seem to be shaken up still. They've also sprained their wrist. I can assume that happened when they fell."

Caretaker nodded, "I'll talk to them as I have to document all of this and file it to my board supervisors. I'll let you know what I find out."

Caretaker waited a few more minutes while the nurse finished helping Whumpee.

"Hey Whumpee, you gave us all a little scare", Caretaker came in and sat, "they're working on your discharge summary right now, so we have some time to talk."

"I-I'm sorry, I... I", Whumpee started to sob.

"Hey, shh. It's okay, Whumpee, you didn't do anything bad", Caretaker quickly got up to hug Whumpee, "you sounded very scared when I heard you, what happened?", Caretaker rested his hand on Whumpee's good shoulder.

"I had a nightmare, but when I woke up, I thought I saw them in my room still. Th-there was a shadow", Whumpee looked down, "I tried to get out of bed. Um, my foot was caught under the blankets, so I fell to the floor. I think that's when I hurt my wrist, and I called for help", Whumpee sniffled some snot up their nose and wiped some tears with their pajama sleeves, "I was rushing to the door when I saw it open, I tried to stop or move out of the way, but I hit the door and fell back, that's when my shoulder started to hurt."

"My my, I'm sorry you had quite the nightmare", Caretaker sighed.

Caretaker pulled the chair a little closer, and sat back down.

"I was getting into bed when I heard you moving around. I went to check on you, and when I heard you fall I sprinted to the door", Caretaker pulled out his phone, "and of course I saw you hit the door frame", Caretaker sighed, "so what will happen now is I'm going to document all of this here on my phone. A copy goes to your doctor, a copy goes to my supervisors, and a copy gets save to your care file, and as you know, you can access that at any time."

Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry again, I know you haven't had any sleep yet. Now you have this to worry about."

Caretaker sighed and looked at Whumpee, "you have nothing to apologize for. Your care comes first, as for your injuries, I'm sorry to you that that happened. Don't worry about my sleep schedule", Caretaker gave a comforting smile, "I am perfectly fine."

Whumpee nodded and used their pajamas to wipe another tear.

Caretaker reached for a nearby tissue box and offered it to Whumpee.

Once home Caretaker got Whumpee into bed.

"Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere", Caretaker looked them over, "try to keep your arms elevated. The ice packs and elevation will help with swelling for your wrist and collarbone."

Whumpee nodded, "besides that, I feel okay."

"I'm going to let your nurse know what happened so they come in prepared", Caretaker pulled up a blanket, "I'm going to send in the report and discharge notes to my supervisors, then I'm going to lay down for a nap until your nurse is here."

Whumpee whimpered a little.

"Are you okay?", Caretaker looked at them with concern, "I forgot about my nurse, do you think they'll be upset with me. I'm going to be an inconvenience to both of you."

"You're not an inconvenience Whumpee", Caretaker sighed, "never think you are an inconvenience to us. We are here to take care of you. We are happy to do that for you."

"I'll go out to the pharmacy later to pick up your pain medication the doctor gave you. Are you in any pain right now?", Caretaker looked over Whumpee again.

"No sir", Whumpee sighed.

"Okay, call me if you need anything at all", Caretaker started to leave, they looked around the room, "I bet that was the shadow you saw", they pointed at a pile of clothes Whumpee had neglected, "I'll clean that up later, and see about a night light in here."

Whumpee sighed as they looked at the pile of clothing. Knowing that was their fault, and they neglected to do their one chore of the day.

"I'm sorry", Whumpee looked back at Caretaker.

"I'm not upset about it Whumpee, but I will say this as a reminder. You have a few chores to take care of. I do that so you regain some independence, I hope we learned a lesson from this", Caretaker sighed.

Whumpee nodded.

"Alright go ahead and get some rest", Caretaker smiled, "and Whumpee?"

"Y-yes sir", Whumpee looked toward Caretaker.

"I'm not mad at you. Please remember that", Caretaker promised, "you are not an inconvenience at all."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou Caretaker, that means a lot."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots

[rems-writing]

I got you

Pairing: kitsune!Wooyoung × owner!oc

Summary: Y'all this is my first time writing a hybrid fic. Bare with me 😭💀🗿🧍🏻‍♀️

Warning(s): the return of Ajax, Wooyoung's heat is intense, cumming inside (DO NOT DO THIS UNPROTECTED), tail pulling (Woo's into that shit), pillow humping, messy blowjobs, daddy kink, body worshipping, hair pulling, riding

Genre: Smut with plot

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Wooyoung watched as his friends were getting adopted one by one. He was happy for them, yet he was also sad since no one wanted him. As he curled his knees up to his chest, he heard the bell chime and another man enter the shop. His heart started beating wildly and he swore he fell in love.

He was tall, lean with a bit of broadness, had his black hair all messed up, and had his sleeves rolled up so Wooyoung could see the half sleeve on one of his forearms.

His tails started wagging as he stared at the ink on his arm.

The receptionist guided the man through the various hybrids still available and of course, Wooyoung was glossed over once again. It wasn't new to Wooyoung, but it still hurt. Before the receptionist could speak some more, the man spoke up.

"What about him?"

Wooyoung's heartrate accelerated as the man pointed to him. His ears perked up as he sat up straight.

"Um... I wouldn't recommend him, sir."

"And why is that? Huh?"

Wooyoung flinched when the man spoke harshly. He knew the anger wasn't directed towards him yet he couldn't help but feel scared.

"Because he's dangerous."

"I can be dangerous if you don't give me a valid reason."

"Sir -"

"My patience is wearing thin."

"He's a kitsune!"

A silence fills the air and Wooyoung felt his throat tighten as the man turned slowly to him.

"Hey you. Shift into your animal form."

Wooyoung obeyed immediately and shifted into his animal form. The man's breath hitched upon seeing the kitsune. His nine tails were spread out, his ears twitched, and his alluring red eyes stared at him with curiosity. He shifted back into a human and awaited the verdict.

"I want him. Final answer."

The receptionist bowed her head and walked over to the register to ring him up.

Minutes later, Wooyoung was standing in front of the man with a bag in his hands and big sparkling eyes.

"Are you adopting me, sir?"

The man's face softened and he smiled at the young kitsune as he nodded.

"Yup."

Wooyoung surged forward and hugged him tightly. The man returned the hug and kissed the side of his head.

"I'm Jung Wooyoung! Nice to meet you, sir!"

"Nice to meet you too. I'm Ajax."

---------------------------------------------------

That was three months ago.

Within those three months, Wooyoung has never felt more at home. Sure, Ajax was strict sometimes, but he wasn't like this every day. Wooyoung quickly learned that it was called 'tough love', and he was ok with it. Sometimes, the kitsune could be a little too cheeky for his own good so he was glad to have someone like Ajax humble and discipline him whenever he can.

Today was a cold day. The wind was blowing harshly, making some of the trees sway. People were holding onto their scarves and beanies as they all tried to rush home. The clouds were darkening, indicating that rain would come soon.

That didn't matter to Wooyoung though since he was sweating horribly and he was rutting against a pillow on the couch.

Quiet whimpers left his mouth as he moved his hips erratically. Those whimpers soon turn into moans that were getting louder and louder by the second. He was crying due to the unbearable pain and his body was growing warmer. He was so lost in his desperation that he didn't notice his owner coming home.

When Ajax closed the door behind him, he was immediately hit with the smell of dahlias and blood oranges. He dropped his suitcase on the floor, loosened his tie, took off his blazer, and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his dress shirt before walking over to his precious kitsune. He knelt down and brought the distraught hybrid's face closer to his so he could leave a searing kiss on his lips.

Wooyoung moaned out of relief into Ajax's mouth and shoved his tongue down his owner's throat as he tried to pull him closer. His strength caused Ajax to stand up slightly and fall on top of the kitsune. His tails wrapped around the owner's body and he pulled away to get a good look at him.

"D-Daddy..."

"Yeah? What do you need, baby?"

Wooyoung never called Ajax daddy unless it was during his heat.

"Need you... please~"

"Shh. I got you."

Wooyoung sighed in relief when Ajax kissed downwards starting from neck all the way down to his fully erected cock, which was poking through his boxers painfully. The kitsune giggled when his owner left light kisses all over his tummy. Those giggles soon turned into moans when Ajax palmed him through his boxers and yanked them down with ease.

"You know the drill, baby."

Wooyoung nodded and discarded his shirt and adjusted himself so he was laying down on his back. Ajax slowly grabbed the hybrid's cock and stroked him slowly as his lips lightly touched the base of it before slowly dragging them all the way to the tip.

"Please, daddy... please!"

Wooyoung yelped when he felt a smack on his inner thigh and a harsh tug on one of his tails. This caused a stream of slick to leak out of his hole and he felt himself blush out of embarrassment. Ajax simply chuckled.

"That ain't nothing to be ashamed of, baby. I told you that I got you."

Wooyoung sighed dreamily at the reassurance and watched with bated breath as Ajax slowly took him into his mouth slowly. He was left breathless as Ajax moved his head up and down slowly, his mouth open wide to elicit an occasional moan or whine whenever his tip hit the back of Ajax's throat.

He was glad Ajax was blessed with no gag reflex.

Wooyoung whimpered yet tried hard not to thrash around when Ajax took him in deeper and inserted a couple of fingers into his leaking hole. He looked up to see Ajax leave a strand of saliva on his cock whenever his owner needed to breathe for a bit before sinking his mouth back down.

Wooyoung grabbed Ajax's thick hair and tugged on it a bit, to which Ajax moaned at since he loved it whenever his kitsune had his hands in his hair. This caused him to go even faster and Wooyoung's moans rose in volume.

"Cumming! I'M CUMMING!"

Wooyoung vocalized his warning and Ajax merely smirked before going faster and faster so the kitsune can shoot his load down the man's throat. Wooyoung's mouth was still wide open when he felt himself release into his owner's mouth. Ajax swallowed everything and release Wooyoung's cock from his mouth before crawling upwards and kissing him straight on the lips again.

Wooyoung kissed him back and frantically tore off Ajax's tie before moving on to the rest of the buttons on his dresse shirt. He drooled at the sight of Ajax's bare upper body as the shirt was shrugged off. He reached for his belt and loosened that up before going over to his slacks and pulling down the zipper so he could whip out his owner's cock. Ajax laughed smoothly before grabbing Wooyoung's hands and pinning them above his head, to which he whined at.

"Daddy~"

"Have patience, baby."

Ajax adjusted both of their positions so he was sitting up and Wooyoung was straddling him after his slacks were pushed off and discarded.

"Ride me as much as you want. I got you."

Wooyoung nodded obediently and adjusted himself so he could sink down onto Ajax's massive dick. Wooyoung threw his head back and a high pitched moaned escaped his lips as he felt Ajax bottom out. He never felt so full even though they have fucked each other outside of the hybrid's heat.

Wooyoung soon started moving and both of them moaned when he moved up slowly and went back down quickly. The kitsune was moving at a medium pace yet Ajax was having none of it. He tugged on another one of his tails and Wooyoung hissed at the feeling. He got the silent message and willed himself to move faster.

"Fuck. I love you so much, Wooyoung. You're my precious kitsune. Fuck whoever always looked past you. You're mine. You're forever mine."

Wooyoung didn't respond properly to Ajax's heartfelt words as he felt his owner's lips kiss everywhere on his body. Ajax made sure he mapped out every inch of skin on his beautiful body. He wasn't one to leave marks yet he couldn't help but leave so many love bites and hickies all over the expanses of his tanned skin. As a result, Wooyoung brought Ajax closer to him. He wrapped his arms around his owner's neck, tangling his fingers into his hair once more. Ajax wrapped his own arms around the hybrid's waist and helped him bounce on his dick since the hybrid was growing tired. Chants of Ajax's name left Wooyoung's mouth and the man groaned in his ear.

"Fuck I'm cumming!"

"Cum inside! Daddy, please!"

"Fuck ok. I'm cumming. Shit!"

With one final thrust, Ajax emptied himself inside Wooyoung. He didn't stop until he was sure that everything was released. He slowly pulled out and chuckled when Wooyoung went limp and press all of his body weight onto him.

"Come on, Woo. Let's get you into a bath."

"Join me, J."

Wooyoung pouted and Ajax kissed his pouty lips before carrying his baby in his arms and walking into the bathroom so they could bathe together.

[wannab-urs]

For the sleepover

Do me a favor

My baby boy, Dieter

Congratulations again babe! I love you!

Thank you bb I love you and I'm really excited about this fic

For the Record

Pairing: Record Shop Owner!Dieter x f!Reader

Summary: You go to a record store looking for something specific and end up on a date with the owner. 

Warnings/Content: Dieter Bravo being Dieter Bravo, excessive name dropping of bands I like, grungy Dieter wearing Doc Martens and covered in tattoos, reader going to a strangers house like an idiot, kissing, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv (this is not real life. Don’t be dumb), one tiny little ass slap, praise, creampie, no use of Y/N, WC: ~2900

Notes: Bravo Records is based on Grimey’s in Nashville, TN which you should absolutely visit if you get the chance. Unfortunately it isn’t owned by Dieter Bravo. Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings for the beta read and the encouragement <;3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You’re on the hunt for a Replacements' album, Tim, specifically. Ironically, you’re replacing it in your collection, having lost it to your ex boyfriend. Note to self: never combine your record collection with anyone ever again. 

This morning you’d googled “record shops near me” and scrolled past Walmart and Target, no thank you, and settled on Bravo Records. The blurb advertised it as a “Laid-back music shop specializing in vintage, pressed recordings, CDs & cassette tapes,” and mentioned a bookstore in the basement and a consignment shop out back. 

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, you take in the building. There are murals depicting perfect recreations of album covers on the brick walls of the store. If you couldn’t see the brushstrokes when you got up close, you’d think they were somehow printed on. The bright yellow of Metallica’s 72 Seasons, the hands reaching for the sky on Boygenius’ The Record, both newer releases. But there’s also The Clash’s London Calling and The Stooges’ Fun House. 

Whoever owns this place has taste. You step into the shop, eyes immediately drawn to the oddly curved ceiling and the exposed brick walls, covered in posters and random paintings. There are 6 sets of shelves running almost the entire length of the store up to a small clearing in the back. There’s a surprisingly large stage beyond that, someone playing the guitar and reciting poetry, a smattering of people leaned against the shelves, listening. 

“Welcome to Bravo’s,” a deep but cheery voice rings in your ear. You let out a small yelp and turn sharply to face the source. “Oh! Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just downstairs and heard the door… I’m Dieter, by the way.”

You take in the man now standing in front of you. He’s wearing a very faded Nirvana shirt stretched within an inch of its life across his broad chest and shoulders. It probably used to be black, but now it’s a bit gray, and there are holes in the seams of the collar. His wide legged pants are black and flowy, you almost mistake them for a skirt until he leans against the counter and crosses his legs. His Docs are scuffed, clearly worn in, maybe vintage. You trail your eyes back up his body, noting the various tattoos on his hands and arms, all black ink and thick linework. You settle back on his face and find his eyebrows arched over deep brown eyes, plush lips in a pout. His beard is scruffy, patchy, and his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed. 

“Find anything you like?” He smirks at you and you suddenly realize you just silently checked him out for a good 10 seconds. Your cheeks heat and you clear your throat. 

“Um… I’m looking for Tim? The album I mean, not the guy, I don’t even know a Tim. By the Replacements? Do you know it?” You sound like an idiot oh god. 

He barely restrains a chuckle, mirth dancing in his eyes, “Yeah, I know it. I only have a first pressing in the original sleeve… is that okay?” He crosses his arms over his chest and holy shit. His biceps are huge. You bite your lip and nod. 

“Yes! Er… um. How much is it?” You wince. There’s no way it’s gonna fit in your pitifully small budget. 

Dieter tilts his head to the side and scrunches his eyebrows up, two lines forming between them. He brings a hand to his unruly hair and tugs. So that’s why he looks like he just got thoroughly fucked. He perks his head up suddenly, almost like he heard your thoughts.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” 

“What?”

“Oh! I mean go out for coffee with me and you can have the record.”

“I can’t just take it for free, Dieter!” 

“Of course you can. I’m the owner. It’s my record. Do you not want to go out with me?” His face scrunches up again and fuck. He’s really cute. 

“Of course I want to go out with you,” you splutter, shocking yourself. 

“It’s settled then. Let’s go!” He turns and walks out the door and you scramble to keep up with him. 

“Now? Don’t you have to run the shop?” 

“Nah, Chrissy can handle it,” he waves his hand like it’s no big deal and heads for the street. “It’s just right down the road.” 

–-

Coffee with Dieter is amazing. He orders a sweet monstrosity, frozen, topped with whipped cream and 3 kinds of syrup. You try to order your favorite drink, but he insists you get the same thing as him. 

“Just trust me!” You’ve literally just met the man, but you think you do trust him. There’s just something about him. He learns your name when you give it to the barista and you apologize profusely for being too flustered to properly introduce yourself. 

He just laughs and guides you to a pair of armchairs in the corner, kicking off his boots to reveal mismatched socks – one a dark purple tall sock with embroidered grapes on it, the other an ankle sock with a print of Starry Night on it – and settles cross legged into the chair. You tell him you like his socks. 

He asks you about what you do for work, where you’re from, what your favorite movies are, an endlessly easy and flowing conversation, peppering in his own answers and arguing with you when you tell him that Judd Apatow movie about making a movie during covid was awful. He asks you what your holy grail album is, the one you’d kill to have in your collection. You don’t even have to think about it.

“The Velvet Underground and Nico, original pressing, with the sticker still on it. I’ll never be able to afford it though. I’ve never even seen one in real life.”

“Do you want to?” He looks at you with a shit eating grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“What? Want to see one in real life? I mean… yeah?” 

“Let’s go then!” He jumps up, pulling his boots back on and heading for the door. You’re again hustling to keep up with him. You follow him out onto the sidewalk. 

“Dieter! Go where?” 

“To my house!” You grab his arm and pull him to a stop. 

“Why are we going to your house?” You’re exasperated.

“To show you the record. You wanted to see it right?” 

“You do not have it. Dieter, there’s no way… One of them just sold for 25k.”

“I do have it. My dad bought it when it came out and now it’s mine.” He takes off walking again, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. 

“Is this some sort of ploy to get me to go home with you? You could have just asked.” 

“I know! I mean… fuck. I’m being serious. I have the record upstairs.” He suddenly comes to a stop in front of an apartment building. “If you want, you can wait here and I’ll bring it down. Just promise not to rob me, yeah?” You huff out a frustrated breath. 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll come in with you.” 

His face lights up and he threads his fingers through yours again. It feels nice, holding his hand. He pulls you up the stairs with him and unlocks his door, and you step into his living room. His apartment was clearly supposed to be one of those industrial chic, modern type spaces, but he clearly didn’t care for that style. There are paintings and posters covering every square inch of wall space. “I take it you decorated the shop then?” 

“Yep! I do all the murals too.” Fuck, he can paint too? The concrete floor is covered with rugs of all different shapes, sizes, and textures. There’s a blue couch and some clearly thrifted armchairs off to the left. The right side of the room is absolutely dominated by his record collection. There’s a shelf running the length of the room, standing taller than you and absolutely stuffed with records. On the floor around it are milk crates filled with even more records. 

“Jesus Christ, Dieter, how many records do you have?” You wander over to a crate and start flipping through, finding that he’s organized them by genre. This one is folk punk you notice as you flip through albums by AJJ, Violent Femmes, The Mountain Goats, and more. 

“I genuinely have no idea. I stopped counting back when I was a teenager.” He goes to the shelf, and you decide it must be more organized than it looks because he quickly pulls two albums out and presents them to you. One is the album you asked about in the shop. The other one… 

“Holy shit.” You stare up at him from your crouched position. “Holy fucking shit Dieter you actually have it.”

“I fuckin’ told you! Do you wanna listen to it?” 

“Do I want to listen to it? Are you actually kidding me? Of course I do!!” He grins at you and walks over to his record player beside the couch. He slides the record out of the sleeve gently and places it on the turntable before dropping the needle. You join him on the couch as the first notes of “Sunday Morning” drift into the room. 

“Dieter?” He hums and smiles at you again. “I could kiss you right now. Fuck. Can I kiss you right now?” He looks shocked for a second before taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back hard, licking into his mouth. He drags you into his lap, your knees settling on the outsides of his thighs. 

You bury your hands in his wild curls and gently tug on them. He groans into your mouth and trails his hands down your body, pulls you even tighter against him. You can feel him getting hard under you, his soft pants doing little to conceal his arousal. You’re not much better off as his lips leave yours and trail down your jaw, your throat, his teeth catching skin as he goes. When “I’m Waiting for the Man,” starts to play, Dieter brings his hands back to your face and pulls you away from him, staring deep into your eyes. 

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” 

You stare at him, shocked for a moment, and then you laugh so hard you fall sideways off his lap. “You know what, Dieter? Yes. I’d like to have sex with you.” 

“Cool,” he breathes out, turning and settling his body over yours. He presses another kiss to your lips and you tug on his shirt. He pulls back long enough to strip it off and you take yours off too. He lays sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your throat and chest, mumbling praises into your skin as he works your jeans and panties down your thighs. You kick them off as he makes his way down to your core. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life. He’s so fucking gorgeous. All golden skin beautifully covered in black ink. 

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Dieter whispers into the space between your thighs. Your hands fly to his hair as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, immediately closing his lips around it and sucking lightly. Your head falls back and a moan rips from your throat. 

He presses a thick finger into you and it’s fucking bliss. He feels so good already. He curls his finger upwards, swirling his tongue in circles around your clit at the same time. Your hands drop to his shoulders as he adds another finger and starts thrusting them into you, curling on every upstroke into your g-spot. 

“Fuck! Dieter… feels so good. Don’t stop.” 

“Shhh baby, I can’t hear the song.” 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, laughing and on the verge of coming at the same time. He slips his tongue down to join his fingers at your entrance and buries his nose against your clit and you’re gone. The shaking of your body from laughing at him quickly gives over to shuddering as your core tightens around his fingers. You cry out, pure euphoria washing over your whole body. 

“That’s it baby. Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight. Look so pretty coming for me.” Dieter talks you through it until the haze of your orgasm fades. “Here or the bed?” 

“Here. Get in me. Now.” You grab at his hair, pulling his face back up to yours. You kiss your own slick off his lips hungrily as he clumsily shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring out. He slides it through your folds a few times before notching it at your entrance. 

You grab his hips and pull him into you, throwing your head back and arching your hips up into him. “Impatient.” He grumbles it into your neck, but thrusts himself into the hilt, clearly as desperate as you. He barely gives you a chance to adjust before he’s drawing back and thrusting into you again. His breath leaves him in a low growl that has a new gush of slick coating his cock. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him back into you every time he pulls out. His thrusts are shallow from this angle, but he’s slamming into you so hard it doesn’t matter. You slot your lips together, not really kissing, just breathing each other in. 

“Dieter, I’m gonna come again,” you can feel your walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper into you. He shifts his angle slightly so that his pelvis grinds against your clit every time his hips meet yours. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders, dragging down to his lower back as your whole body tightens and spasms around him. 

For a moment, as you catch your breath, you think your hearing must have gone out. Dieter is buried to the hilt inside you, torso pressed flush to yours, but you don’t hear the music anymore. “Want me to flip it to the B side?” Oh. He just fucked you for the entire A side of the track and he’s still not done. 

“Yeah sure,” you huff a laugh into his hair. He lifts up, presses a kiss to your lips and pulls out of you with a groan. Your cunt flutters around nothing, missing the feeling of him inside you already. You get a good look at his cock now – thick, uncut, drooling precum and covered in your release. He’s so pretty. 

 He flips the record to the B side and then pushes his pants down the rest of the way, leaving them in a black puddle on the floor. He grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. “Thought I’d get a look at your B side too,” Dieter says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“I think I hate you,” you mumble into the cushions. He just laughs and settles one knee on the couch, his other foot planted on the floor. He taps your ass cheek lightly.

“Up on your knees, pretty girl.” You shift to comply and he settles his hands on your hips, helping you up and burying his cock in you again in one smooth motion. 

“Fuck!” Your arms buckle and you drop to your elbows as he rails you. The new angle is so good it almost hurts. He uses his grip on your hips to pull you into every thrust, punching the breath out of you and turning your brain to mush. You couldn’t tell him what song is playing right now if your life depended on it. All you hear is your own strangled moans and the praises he’s crying out into the air. 

“So fucking beautiful. You’re so tight and wet, fuck. I’m gonna come baby. Can I come in your pretty pussy? Please?” You nearly come again at that. The thought of being full of him. 

“Yes! Yes! Dieter. Come in me. Need it. Please!” He buries himself inside you and stays there and you can actually feel his cock jump inside you, hot spurts of cum filling you up. He curls himself over your back and you both collapse into the couch. 

He rolls onto his side, pulling you with him and tucking your back to his chest. He doesn’t pull out of you, just tangles your legs together and wraps his arms around you. You both just lay there in a daze, listening to the rest of the album. When “European Son” fades out and the record starts clicking, Dieter finally slips his softened cock from you. He stands up and puts the record back in its sleeve, filing it back on the shelf. 

“If I go to the bathroom, will you still be here when I get back, or are you gonna steal my record and break my heart?” 

“Of course I’m gonna steal it,” you smile at him, still stretched out on the couch and not really planning on moving any time soon. He rolls his eyes, laughing at you and disappearing into the hallway. 

Maybe combining record collections isn’t completely off the table. If it’s with the right person. 

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N One-Shot Series PRT 26

Tagging:@roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Jack had woken up the next day feeling like absolute shit. Dr. Carty had told him that he needed to be checked in for a short stay just to get him back on track and Jack reluctantly agreed. He wasn't sure how he could fall so far with all the progress he had made. He knew bits and pieces of what happened last night but it was Dr. Carty who explained to him that Y/n had been with him and left in a hurry not wanting anything to do with him once the doctor had gotten there.

"Do you think I have time to stop by Y/n's and let her know I'll be gone for a bit?" Jack asked standing on the front porch.

"I suppose you could but if she isn't ready to forgive you Jack, don't push her." Dr. Carty pressed as he nodded his head. He walked across the street and knocked on the door, pulling his sleeves down to hide the bandages. Y/n opened the door and stared at him, unmoving.

"Hi." Jack croaked unable to really look at her.

"Um I just wanted to let you know that I'm going in for treatment for a little while. Carty thinks is best to get me back on track since I let some stupid shit take me out-"

"Don't make excuses. You stopped taking your meds because you wanted to punish yourself. Then instead of just taking it out on yourself, you took it out on me." Y/n had no sympathy for him.

"I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm just trying to let you know what's happening. I told you I was a lot to handle." Jack reminded her.

"Yeah you did and I still wanted to be apart of your life but you aren't going to use your mental health as an excuse to be a shit person. You don't get to say horrible things to me and just get away with it. You damn sure don't get to put your hands on me and get away with it either." Y/n stepped towards Jack and he stepped down off the porch.

"Did...did I hurt you? I don't remember putting my hands on you." Jack looked her body over and she shook her head.

"Shanda said you didn't remember hitting her either. She called me after talking to your doctor. She loves you a lot." Y/n cleared her throat.

"I would understand if you never want to speak to me again-"

"Oh fuck off Jack. Don't pull that poor pitiful shit with me. You know I'm not going to fall for it." She spat.

"You fucked up because you decided to hurt yourself. Now you need to go and get your shit together. I'm not going to be anyone's punching bag ever." Jack heard those words and feared he had actually struck her.

"Have I ruined this? Be honest with me Y/n. Will I have something to come back here for with you?" Jack finally looked up at Y/n and she sighed.

"I shouldn't be what you're worried about right now. You need to go and get your shit together, maybe work on a real apology instead of the abundance of excuses you just showed up with. But most importantly, I want you to get better for you." Y/n seemed sincere and Jack nodded his head.

"I want you to know that I would have never hurt you if I was in my right state of mind. I would have never wanted to make you scared of me." Jack confessed and she nodded.

"I'm not scared of you Jack. I'm scared for you. I want you to control your mental illness, not let it control you." Y/n stepped down into his space.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered.

"Tell me that again when you've had time to sit with all of it." Y/n looked at his eyes and could see such an overwhelming sadness. He looked lost like he had just woken up for the first time in years. She rubbed her thumb on his forehead and sniffled, like she was trying not to make herself upset.

"Take care of yourself Jack." She turned on her heel and walked back inside. Jack kept his gaze on the door for a few moments before leaving and seeing Dr. Carty standing by his car.

"How did it go?" He asked curiously.

"She told me to go get my shit together and when I get back, we can talk then." Jack rubbed the back of his neck and Dr. Carty shook his head.

"Then we have some work to do. You can't just go to treatment, get your meds right and then come back, you know that right? You have to go through assessment again and see where you're at before we can release you. We have to know you won't hurt yourself or come off your meds again." Dr. Carty explained. Jack knew he fucked up but he didn't realize how badly he fucked up.

The last time he was sent for assessment, they held him for a year. What if they kept him for another year? What if Y/n moved on with her life and he never gets the chance to really apologize to her? What if he just fucked his whole life up for no reason?

"Don't let yourself get overwhelmed by the prospect of having to stay longer than you want Jack. You know you need the treatment, the time and the hands on care. You are no good to come out sooner than what you should if you plan to get back to this life you've created with people you care about." Dr. Carty squeezed his shoulder.

"I know...I just don't want to lose her trying to find myself again. It took me too long to get back to who I was before." Jack looked at his doctor who gave him a sad smile.

"I don't think you are back to that shell Jack. I think you just had a weak moment and we need to take care of that to avoid bigger issues in the future."Jack looked at Y/n's front door again and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Alright Doc...let's get to work." Jack got into the car with his doctor and kept his head down as they drove towards the hospital. Y/n watched the car pull out of the driveway and she finally let herself cry. The last 24 hours was so heavy and she hated that she let herself get so caught up in her feelings for Jack, she forgot that he had struggles just like her.

Later that night, she got a call from Dr. Carty she wasn't expecting.

"I know it's late but we just got Jack settled in for the night and I wanted to get your permission before I fulfilled his request." Dr. Carty said.

"What request would that be?" She asked concerned.

"Jack would like to add you to his emergency contacts. It means I can share his medical updates with you. He has no living family so it would only be you and Shanda. I personally think it would be a good idea since you're so much closer than she is." He explained. Y/n stayed silent for a moment.

"Would you be comfortable with that?" He asked.

"Yeah I'm fine with that...just don't tell him I said I agreed okay?" She didn't want him thinking he was in the clear just because she cared about his health.

"He's going to be okay Y/n. So will you. You're a very strong young lady. I hope you do what's best for your life and I hope that includes Jack." Dr. Carty was so far off book and he knew that but Y/n could hear how much he cared about Jack as more than just a patient.

[kaydens-agere]

💻Chase Davenport Agere Moodboard and Headcanons Pt. 1!🧪

Headcanons are under the cut :) I might make more of these headcanons cuz RAH I LOVE CHASE SM SDJFKLSDF Also this post is so long im so sorry for yapping so much 💀

🪐GENERAL INFO 💻-Chase's little age is 2-8, though it can be a little older or a little younger depending on the circumstances. 🧪-He couldn't pinpoint a time where it began, but it became more prominent in his life after he got let out of the basement, and continued to become a bigger part of his life with each traumatic event (Betrayals, Near Death Experiences, etc)

💻-When it first begun, he immediately begun doing research and it concerned him at first, however, he managed to gain control and kinda suppressed it for a while, but with each every little thing that happened, he'd lose his grasp on that initial control. It scared him a lot, since he didn't want this side of him to be known to anyone. [more on this in the family section]

🧪-He can still use his bionics while he's small, but he has a harder time controlling them and they glitch more often (just like when he was actually a kid). Whenever he goes to put something in his mouth or chew it, he'll scan it first to make sure it's safe, sometimes he cares, other times he just puts it in his mouth anyway. If Chase stims using his arms, sometimes his molecular kinesis will glitch and knock things over or send them flying across the room, he's had to have someone disable it a few times.

💻-Chase stims a lot more often when he's small, he mostly just flaps his hands, he loves to pull his hoodie sleeves over his hands while he does it. He also does a lot of vocal stims, whether it's nonsense babbling or tongue clicking noises. He also loves to chew, he has a chewelry necklace that's pretty much attached to him while he's little, no one lets him take it off out of fear that he'll bite on something else that he shouldn't.

🧪-He loves to play with those kids science kits. He still retains most of his super intelligence so they're not as much of a challenge, but he likes the simplicity of them (this one was inspired by @paper--moons agere headcanons abt Peter Parker :))

🪐FAMILY 💻-His regression mannerisms became more apparent to other people after Sebastian. He swore to himself that he'd never tell a soul, but his family eventually did find out, whether he told them or if they figured it out themselves.

🧪-Adam and Bree knew about Chase regressing but they didn't have a name for it, all they knew is that he acted childish at times, especially after a stressful mission. They've become very receptive of each other, considering the fact that they lived in a basement together all their lives. Adam likes to give him piggy back rides and Bree plays tag with him (and even though she has super speed, she usually lets him win)

💻-Leo already knew what regression was, he's been around tumblr enough to get a good understanding (me fr) and has some friends that do it. He'd witnessed Chase's regression a few times before eventually asking about it, in which Chase told him. Leo is very supportive of Chase and lets him play with his action figures with him.

🧪-Telling Donald was... complicated. Donald noticed Chase's childish tendencies and always told him to knock it off. Chase did eventually explain it to him, and although he didn't quite understand it (and sort of didn't want to at the time), he eventually came around. He can still be a bit harsh towards Chase if he's regressed while he's meant to be working, but he's trying his best.

💻-Unlike Donald, Douglas was extremely chill about it. He had a feeling about it after reconciling with his family, and Chase telling him confirmed his suspisions. It pretty much went like this: Chase: So um... I'm an age regressor. It basically means- Douglas: I know. Chase: ... You do? Douglas: Uh, yeah. I could already tell, kid. It's pretty damn obvious, at least to me, anyway. Chase: Oh, alright. Um... any questions about it? Douglas: Nope. He didn't want to pry Chase with questions about it, but trusts him to come to him whenever he needs to, which has happened a few times. After Douglas moved into the penthouse in Centium City, Chase went to him more than a few times after having nightmares, or if he was simply missing his siblings or life in Mission Creek. They've shared a few nice moments on the terrace.

🧪-Tasha knows a lot more than she lets on. She let Chase explain it to her, but in reality, she knows a lot about it. She actually cares for a little herself, but has never told anyone about it [feel free to leave ur guesses as to who it could be :) /nf] She's kinda like one of Chase's babysitters if his main caregiver isn't available (Who will be revealed in the next part). She's very nurturing and makes it easy for Chase to let his guard down. [Not including Marcus or Daniel because Marcus wouldn't have had time to find out, and Daniel hadn't been in the picture for very long, so Chase wanted to hold off for a while]

okayy thats about all i can think of rn, ill probably do a part 2 cuz i have so many agere headcanons about this man, feel free to give me requests for hcs about different characters if you wanna :) ALSO to the person that sent me a request, dont worry im still working on it :)l

[pineappleciders]

can you do a scenario with stan walking in on the reader engaging in sh? and also one with wendy please

TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm, wounds, blood, blades etc.

STAN and WENDY walking in on reader s/hing

A/N: i like doing these types of asks, they are very comforting :D platonic as always. sorry if wendys is too short, i got a bit lazy

•••

stan marsh

"mr. garrison, can i go the bathroom?"

you scurry down the hall, snagging your backpack to bring to the restroom with you. today hadn't gone so well.

you close the door and enter one of the smaller stalls, locking it and sitting down on the toilet seat. you didn't typically enjoy sitting on it with your pants on, but it'd have to do.

time passes, and you feel yourself get a little light-headed. you lay your head on the wall to catch your breath, and you jump when you hear the bathroom door open.

"Y/N? dude, what's taking so long? we have to start the test soon!"

"sorry, i'll be out in a minute!" you begin to gather your things and zip up your bag, sighing of relief when you hear stan walk out.

you sling it over your shoulder and leave, meeting face to face with stan in the hallway. "jeez, what were you doing in there? mr. garrison told me to come get you so we could start the...." his voice starts to trail as he catches sight of your arm.

it suddenly hits you that you didn't roll your sleeve down, and your heart sinks to your stomach. you rush to pull it down.

"dude, are you okay? how did you get cut like that?" there's a look of concern on his face, and it kind of hurts to look at.

"oh, uh, my cat..-"

"what cat?"

"..... my friends cat scratched me the other day. it didn't really hurt, nothing to worry about."

"those are still bleeding though, are you sure?"

you honestly can't tell if stan it catching onto you, or if he's just genuinely curious about this said cat. you don't know where to go from here, so you opt to flee from the scene

"yeah, yeah, c'mon we oughta get back to class. everyone's waiting for us." you rush past him, speed-walking to mr. garrisons classroom, but you're abruptly stopped when stan grabs the handle of your backpack

"..?" you look back at him, growing even more nervous.

"dude, you know you can talk to me right? i mean, i know i'm not the best at feelings, but i'm still here if you need advice or something." you can tell stan's getting a little anxious. he's never been in a situation like this before!

you can almost feel a physical sting in your heart when he says that, and you can feel a few tears prick your eyes.

"no- no, i'm-" you try to say something, but your throat begins to hurt and you can't keep a tear from gliding down your cheek.

stan's mouth opens a bit, and he quickly places his hand on your back, giving small little rubs and pats of reassurance. you're scared, you didn't want anyone to find out like this.

his face is scrunched with concern and what appears to be sympathy. he's quiet as you sniffle and try to clear your eyes.

"no.. no i'm..." you get the words out a little clearer now, but you can't seem to lie. your throat stretches and hurts.

stan flinches in surprise when you quickly engulf him in a hug, grabbing onto his coat and he awkwardly pats your backpack with one hand, the other still on your back.

"stan... i don't.... i'm sorry." you want to talk. to tell him everything that's been going on and all of your pains. but, you truly can't get the words out.

and so, you opt to cling onto stan as hard as you can, sobbing into his shoulder and getting snot on his brown jacket. he doesn't say anything. he simply holds you, patting your back and occasionally ruffling your hair gently.

it's nice, you think. there haven't really been a lot of opportunities whereas you just got to cry in someone's arms, let alone one of your friends. you can only imagine the ridicule you'd face if eric saw you hugging stan like this.

stan is patient, and waits for you to calm a bit before speaking.

"hey... i know it's really hard.. and, um.. i'm proud of you, OK?" his words are awkward, but you can tell he means it with his facial expressions. "seriously. i don't really know much about this kinda stuff, but i'm here if you wanna explain it. sorry."

you're not sure why he apologized at the end there, but you can only assume he feels somewhat responsible for your state. or perhaps that he wasn't always the best listener, or greatest friend... you know he tries though.

you give a small smile and pull back a bit. "yeah, thanks. it's fine. thank you."

he gives you a small smile back. "do you.. need to see the nurse? i can tell mr. garrison you had diarrhea."

chuckling at the word, you shake your head. "haha, no it's alright. let's get back to class, yeah?"

•••

wendy testaburger

wendy had always been known for being incredibly progressive and understanding. especially in the more recent years, when you couldn't help but notice her kindness and general personality improved.

you'd always thought she was nice, but it seems that those little smiles she gives you in the halls are more genuine now.

it'd been a hard day for you, and you've retreated back to your room after a long day of school. you didn't exactly want to do this, but you needed to relieve the pressure.

you sit on your bed after closing your door, a razor blade in your dominant hand, and your wrist bare. you were kind of disappointed in yourself for losing your sober streak.

a few minutes pass, and you nearly hit a vein out of fear when your door swings open and wendy bursts through, looking very excited and holding something in her hand.

her smile quickly transitions into a horrified look when she sees you, a blade pressed to your arm. you share the same look, and you two just stare at each other.

"Y/N?" she's in shock for a moment, before regaining her senses and rushing over to you. "oh my god, Y/N, what are you doing?"

she almost sounds like a mother scolding you, but the compassion and worry in her voice reaches your ears.

she takes the razor from your hands and sets it aside, returning her gaze to you and kneeling down, clasping your hand within hers. the look in her eyes makes you want to cry.

"Y/N, why... that's right over a vital artery. god, don't- don't do that, okay?" her voice is shaky, and she seems really panicked. her eyes dart around the room, landing on yours, staring you down deeply.

she takes a few deep breaths, before standing up and sitting next to you on the bed, still holding your hands. "Y/N... why didn't you tell me you were hurting?"

wendy's eyes are full of desperation, searching for an answer from you. tears blur your vision, and everything starts to turn grey.

"i... i'm sorry. i didn't want to worry you."

this seems to hurt her, and she pulls you into a warm hug, before pulling away again.

"Y/N.. i really care about you. i.. this seriously isn't good for you, you could seriously injure yourself! please, we can- you can talk to me. i try to let you know all the time, but i really do care, so please- just tell me next time."

her voice is a bit less panicked now, but you can still tell she's incredibly anxious.

"here, let me patch you up. stay here."

she gets up to leave to get medical supplies, and you can't help but notice that she takes the razor blade with her.

wendy tries to be serious a lot of the time, but her composure always crumbles when someones hurting or in danger. she doesn't get nervous often, but it can completely wreck her when she does.

so, in a way, you've both seen a secret side of each other tonight. sometimes you smile to yourself thinking about it.

[therand0mwriter]

Friends-Their Meetings

OHSHC x female!reader

[Unedited]

[(h/t) means hair type. I.e. wavy, curly, straight, ect.]

💛🏵💛

She was connected to all of them, and all of them were connected to her. They just didn't know it yet.

💛🏵💛

Honey & Mori

*1 Year Ago*

Honey sniffed the air, "Do you smell that, Takashi? It smells sweet!" The 2nd years doe brown eyes widened with excitement at the smell of one of his favorite things. "Yeah." The other 2nd year, Mori, simply agreed. "Let's follow it!" Honey cheered, racing off towards the smell. Mori calmly followed behind his hyper cousin.

The two eventually found the door the tantalizing smell was coming from. Honey pressed his ear up against the door, when he pulled back he turned to Mori. "It doesn't sound like there's any one in there." Mori responded with a hum. Just in case he was wrong, Honey slowly cracked opened the door, as to not disrupt any possible people. Both Honey and Mori peeked in, not seeing anything at first.

But then they saw a girl. She was wearing the yellow school dress Ouran provided for their female students. Her sleeves were pushed up and she wore an apron, as to not stain her uniform with the frosting she was using to decorate the cake she was working on. Her (thin/plump) were formed into a small smile, her (e/c) eyes soft as they sat behind a pair of glasses, her (s/c) cheeks warm, her (h/t) (h/c) hair radiant and a yellow rose barret clipped to it...

'She's pretty cute...' Both of the boys platonically thought. Honey decided it was time to make their presence known. He pushed the door open, "What are you making?!" Honeys loud a sudden question scared the girl, making her yelp and squeeze the piping bag, spraying frosting everywhere.

"Ah!" The girl shouted in distress when she saw the glob of frosting splattered all over her cake. Honey ran over, Mori following. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to ruin your cake!" Honey quickly apologized, tears forming at the edge of his eyes.

The girls eyes widened, "Oh! No, no, no! You didn't ruin it!" She quickly said, waving her hands in front of her. She gave a nervous smile, "U-Uh, i-if anything! Y-You helped me!" Both Honey and Mori gave the girl confused looks. "What do you mean?" Honey question, tone soft.

"U-Um..." She frantically looked around before her eyes lit up. "Ah-hah!" She grabbed a metal scraper, "Watch this!" She took the scraper to the cake as she spun it on its turntable. She tossed the excess frosting away as she went to the stove. She quickly melted some chocolate and poured it on the top of the cake. She took a dropper, filled it with melted chocolate and added dribbles of chocolate to the side of the cake. She also laid out parchment paper and made cirlcles with the leftover chocolate. When she was done, she went through some drawers, pulling out a few things, edible flowers and cocoa powder.

She moved the cake from the turntable to a display stand. She then placed the edible flowers on top of the cake, placing them more to the left. She took the cocoa powder and sprinkled some of it on the chocolate cirlcles. After making sure they were dry, she took them from the parchment paper and placed them with the flowers. She looked to Honey and saw the stuffed bunny he was holding.

She smiled at that and took a smaller, already prepared, piping bag. Towards the base of the cake, she drew a little bunny head with the frosting. She stepped away and with a large smile, shouted: "Ta-da!"

[A/N: Image does not belong to me]

"WOAH!" Honey also shouted, stars in his eyes. Even Mori's eyes widened, impressed with the girls improvising. The girl saw Mori's reaction and giggled, "Just like my favorite idol said: 'We don't make mistakes. We just have happy accidents'!"

'Huh...' Mori thought, a minuscule grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Wow! That's pretty clever!" Honey smiled at the girl. Just then, the bell rang. "Oh no! I'm so sorry, but I have to get going!" The girl quickly put a clear lid over the cake, taking the stand and rushing to the door. "Thank you for your help!" She gave one last smile to the boys, it was large and warm, like the sun. Then, she was gone.

Ba-bump

Both of the boys were left staring at the spot where the girl used to be, a soft look in both of their eyes. Honey chuckled, "She thanked us even though we didn't do anything. I wonder who she is..." Mori hummed, small grin still on his face.

*The Next Day*

Honey and Mori were in their homeroom class, Honey chatting away to Mori. When the door to the classroom opened, neither of them thought anything about it. Until...

"Um, excuse me?" They turn to see the girl from yesterday; a nervous air surrounded her. "Ah! It's you!" Honey shouted while smiling largely, even Mori had a tiny grin. Once she saw how welcoming they were, she immediately calmed down, her shoulders relaxed and a gentle smile dawned on her face.

"Yes, it's me," She chuckled, "I wanted to thank you again for yesterday. Because of you guys, I got approved to start a baking club! So, here's this!" She presented Honey a slice of the cake from yesterday, "I made sure to save you the piece with the bunny on it!" Honeys eyes shimmered like gems at the sight of the cake, "Oh my gosh! Thank you!" He said as he gladly took the cake. "And for you," She turned to Mori, "I got the feeling you dont care for overly sweet things, so I made you a banana cake with a thin layer of cinnamon swirl frosting!" She handed him a small, dark blue package. "Thanks," Mori nodded to the girl.

She waved her hands in front of her, "No, no, you don't have to thank me," She took a step back and bowed to the two, making their eyes widen,"I appreciate your help." When she stood up straight again, Honey stepped up to her and softly smiled. "I'm Mitsukuni Haninozuka, you can either call me Honey or Mitsukuni if you would like! We're second years!" Mori also stepped up, "Takashi Morinozuka. Call me Takashi or Mori."

"Second years? That would make you guys my senpai's!" She joyfully laughed, her eyes crinkling with how large she was smiling, "I'm a first year, (Y/N) (L/N)! Its a pleasure to meet you, Mitsukuni-senpai, Takashi-senpai! Let's be friends!"

Ba-bump

Both of their hearts skipped a beat.

Kyoya

*1 Year Ago*

"I have assigned you all partners, please look at the list on the board, find your partners and start on the project." Said the teacher. 'Oh great, I wonder what idiot I got paired with...' Kyoya glumly thought.

"Ah, excuse me?" A gentle voice said next to him. He turned to the source to see a girl with (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes that hid behind a pair of glasses and (h/l) (h/t) (h/c) hair, a yellow rose barret clipped to it. "Are you Kyoya Ootori?" She asked. Kyoya nodded, "I am, and who might you be?" She gave a soft smile, "My name is (Y/N) (L/N), we're partners for the project." Kyoya looked to the board, finding his name next to hers. He turned back to her, plastering on a fake smile and gentle tone, "Yes, it seems we are. It's a pleasure to meet you, (L/N)."

Her eyes widened slightly, she seemed put off now. "Um... yeah, it's nice to meet you too." 'That's strange.' Kyoya thought, 'Usually girls would blush over that.' "Shall we get started?" She said as she sat in the empty desk next to him. 'Striaght to the point...' Kyoya was thankful, but surprised, that his charm wasn't working on the girl. "Yes, let's." Kyoya agreed, pulling out his laptop.

*Time Skip, 1 Week*

It's been a week since Kyoya was paired up with (Y/N) (L/N). And for some damn reason... he couldn't get her off his mind. It wasn't that she was infesting his mind, when he would be dozing off, not thinking about anything in particular, she would pop into his mind. It was starting to get annoying. 'She isn't anything special, she's relatively generic. For our project though, she was actually competent in doing her share... but the way she didn't seem to be infatuated with me was strange... why am I obsessing over this?!'

Just then, Kyoya heard someone laugh, and as he has learned in the past week from unconsciously observing her, he knew it belonged to (Y/N) (L/N). He peered at her through the corner of his eye, she was laughing at something another classmate had said. 'I wonder what it would be like to be the one to make her laugh... wait a second! What am I thinking?!' Upset with his thoughts, he gathered his things and left the classroom, unaware of the (e/c) eyes that followed him.

*Time Skip, Later that Day*

Kyoya was fuming. Tamaki had, once again, made the ravenette furious. It was the end of the day and no one was in his homeroom class, and no one would be coming back. Or so he thought. "That insufferable idiot!" Kyoya grumbled as he kicked Tamaki's desk. Kyoya continued to abuse the desk as he muttered insults to his blonde friend, until...

"Uh, Ootori?"

Kyoya jumped at the sudden voice and turned to see (Y/N). "Are you alright?" She questioned, concerned written on her face. "Ah, (L/N)." Kyoya composed himself. "I apologize if I disturbed you, I'll get going now." He had grabbed his bag and turned to leave, but the girl had other plans. She stepped forward, "U-Um!" He paused, waiting for the girl to continue. "I-I noticed earlier you seemed upset, would you like to talk about it?"

'... she noticed that?' Kyoya briefly thought before answering her with a smile, "Nothing is wrong, (L/N). Thank you for your concern!" He moved around the girl and was about to step out of the classroom when he was cut off with an irritated sigh. He paused and turned back to (Y/N), genuinely surprised at the usually bubbly girl showing a negative emotion.

She also turned and locked eyes with him, "You know, I don't care about appearances, where someone came from or who they're related to. You can drop your facade around me. You're allowed to be yourself." Kyoya's eyes stayed wide with surprise as the girl left, leaving him dumbstruck.

*Time Skip, 1 Week*

Well, she was definitely infesting his mind now. He kept replaying her words in his mind, and the look she had in her eyes... how honest they were, and how they made him instantly trust her. Of course, he hadn't actually spoken to her since then. Just because he wanted to trust her doesn't mean he will.

In the mean time, he did do some research on her. It was interesting to say the least. Good grades, no fights or reprimands, starting a baking club. That was the boring part though. The interesting parts were her family. Her mother was a commoner and her father... wasn't listed. But from the looks of it, he was the one paying her tuition. The fact that she didn't come from a rich and well-known family like everyone else made him want to trust her more, but he was still wary. 'Just who exactly are you, (L/N)?'

*Time Skip, Later that Day*

Kyoya didn't know where he was going. In a blind rage, he was stomping throughout the empty halls of Ouran, his destination unknown. Well, his brain didn't know where he was heading, but his body sure did. Next thing he knew, he burst through a pair of doors and just let loose.

"HE'S SUCH AN IDIOT! HE IRRITATES ME SO MUCH! IT'S LIKE HE HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN MAKE ME MAD! 'KYOYA! LETS DO THIS! KYOYA, LETS DO THAT! KYOYA, I WANT TO GO SEE THIS!' EVERY FIVE MINUTES THAT INSUFFERABLE BASTARD WANTS SOMETHING FROM ME! AND WHEN I TRY TO FULFILL HIS REQUEST, HE WANTS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT IMMEDIATELY! THERE'S NO PLEASING THAT GUY! AND THE IDEAS HE COMES UP WITH! THOSE DAMN IDEAS! THEYRE SO... SO... IDIOTIC! I JUST DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO ANYMORE!" Kyoya finished, practically panting and halting in his pacing he started at the beginning of his rant.

He turned to the person he subconsciously went to. A part of him was surprised to see (Y/N) (L/N), but another part of him wasn't. If anything, it was glad it was her.

Once she calmed down from the initial shock from seeing Kyoya no longer wearing his charming mask (and his loud ranting), she softly smiled at him, "Sounds like Suoh really likes and depends on you." "Huh?" Was all Kyoya could say. She chuckled, "It's okay to tell him no some times, y'know? Suoh is your friend and it seems like he cherishes you a lot, he would understand if you turned him down every now and then. From the looks of it, he's the type of person who cares more about his friends than himself. And from the sound of it, all he wants to do is spend time with his friend."

Kyoya stared at the girl, no emotion on his face. She continued though, lightly laughing, "That does sound tiring though, I can understand why you're so upset!" Kyoya continued to stare at the girl, face blank.

Then, a small, but genuine, smile formed in his face. He placed his hand on her shoulder, "Thanks for listening." She largely smiled at the ravenette, "Of course! That's what friends are for!" "So, you automatically assumed we were friends?" He asked, causing the girl to blush and stutter in embarrassment. "O-Oh! U-Um-" "Relax, (L/N). I'm just teasing." He said, a small grin present on his lips.

She stared at the male, before smiling herself, "Y'know, you're really handsome when you have a real smile, Ootori." Kyoya's expression was one of surprise at the sudden compliment.

Ba-bump

Kyoya has been complimented like this before, but for some reason, her's was riveting. Kyoya chuckled, "Please, call me 'Kyoya'. We are friends now after all, aren't we?" (Y/N) softly gasped, then giggled as a smile formed, "Yeah, we are, Kyoya!"

Ba-bump

His heart skipped a beat.

Kyoya then noticed the sweet aroma and sniffed the air. He realized they were in a kitchen classroom, "What are you making?" "I made biscotti's! Would you like one with a cup of coffee? We can continue chatting." She offered. "That sounds wonderful, (Y/N)."

[A/N: Image does not belong to me. These are biscotti's, they're a biscuit that's usually dipped in a drink.]

Hikaru & Kaoru

*1 Year Ago*

The twins were in their last year of middle school, and they've been in the host club for a couple months now. Surprisingly, they were enjoying it so far. After their classes, they would head over to the high school for their club. And that was what they were doing right now. But, something stopped them.

As they were passing a door that was cracked opened, they smelled something delicious. They peeked through the crack to see a girl they've never seen before. Soft (h/l) (h/c) hair, shiny (e/c) eyes, (s/c) clear skin. She wore glasses and had a yellow rose barret holding her hair out of her eyes. 'She's not bad looking...' the twins simultaneously thought.

It looked like she was adding frosting to part of a cookie, then took another half of a cookie and placed it on top. The twins quickly recognized them as macarons. They look to each other and nodded, the same idea on their mind.

They barged in, making the girl jump. "Those are macarons, right? Can we have one?" They said in sync, walking up to the girl with mischievous grins. The girl took in their uniforms, "You guys are from the middle school? What are you doing here?" "We're on our way to our club," Hikaru started. "Which is in the high school." Kaoru finished. "But you didn't answer our question, can we have a macaron?" They said together, pointing to the tray of macarons.

"Mm... no." The girl simply put. The twins eyes went wide, a girl has never spoken to them like that before. Then, their surprised looks turn to one of pure mischief, "How about this, let's play the 'which one is Hikaru' game! If you guess wrong, we get your macarons. If you guess right, we'll leave you alone. How does that sound?"

"That doesn't sound fair at all."

"Huh?" The twins pause. "You guys look identical, but you each are your own person. I highly doubt that you two are identical in personality. You each have your own likes and dislikes, habits, quirks... you name it. How am I supposed to tell you two apart if I don't even have the chance to get to know you?" She explained, making the twins speechless.

The twins look to each other, speaking to each other without words. They turn their attention back to the girl, "Very well. For the next month, we'll stop by before our club for 10 minutes a day. Give you a chance to get to know us. And us a chance to know you. But when you guess who is Hikaru and who is Kaoru, you have to give a reason. Deal?"

The girl gave the twins a confused but amused look, "Alright, deal. Once I get to know you guys, I'll be able to tell you two apart!"

Ba-bump

*Time Skip, 1 Month Later*

"You're Hikaru-kohai, and you're Kaoru-kohai." (Y/N) simply, but confidently stated while pointing to each twin. Said twins hesitated at her correct guess, "And your reasoning, (Y/N)-senpai?"

"Well, there's a lot!" (Y/N) said thoughtfully, holding her index finger to her chin. "Not all of the time, but most of the time, Kaoru is to Hikaru's right and Hikaru is to Kaoru's left. When you don't speak together, Hikaru starts the sentences while Kaoru finishes them. Hikaru is more quick to get irritated while Kaoru is the more reasonable one. And it's barely noticeable, but Hikaru's voice is a little deeper than Kaoru's. While Kaoru's voice is a little higher than Hikaru's." She finished with a smile.

...

"Oh no, why are you guys crying?! I didn't mean to upset you! Did I get it wrong?!" (Y/N) started to wave her hands aimlessly between her and the twins, panicked at the sudden tears forming in their eyes. Each of the twins pushed her fumbling hands away as they took her into their embrace. (Y/N) went silent and stiff at their sudden hug, but once she felt how bad they needed this, she hugged both of them back.

'Who knew, after all this time... we would find somebody who would understand us so well...' The twins euphorically thought. When they pulled away, their senpai asked them again, "Did I guess wrong? I was pretty confident in my answer..." The twins chuckled, "Yes, you got it right." Their senpai cheered, clapping her hands, "I knew it! Oh! As celebration, I made you guys something!"

She sped walked to her bag that was sitting on the counter. She pulled out two small bags, one blue and one pink. She handed the blue one to Kaoru and the pink one to Hikaru. "What is this?" The twins questioned. "They're macarons!" (Y/N) answered. "But... you won the bet." The twins confusion showed on their face.

She warmly smiled at the two, her eyes crinkling in the process. "Sillies, we're friends now! Forget about the bet, this is a celebration now! And plus, the only reason I couldn't give you guys the macarons last month was because they were for a bake sale. If you guys had just asked me to make you some, I would have!"

"So... the only reason you agreed to the bet was because..." The twins started. (Y/N) winked at them, "You guys weren't the only bored ones!"

Ba-bump

Their hearts skipped a beat.

[A/N: Image does not belong to me.]

[vshthestmpede]

Hello ✨ requesting a how knives would react to reader showing him interest and affection 🤍 based on the manga, he’s always wanted a deep connection with humans as a kid so does this make him feel any specific kind of way ? This precious plant baby is hard headed im sure 🥺

knives + a whole new feeling

word count; 610

warnings; awkwardness, but overall adorable dorkiness

note; tysm for requesting!! i'm currently reading the manga and all of the characters are growing on me, especially knives! he really does seem like he's just super misguided n just wants to do the right thing in his mind. still getting a feel for writing knives so please feel free to critique <3

cross-posted to ao3

you were tentative to approach knives lately and he had picked up on this. usually you were always trying to get his attention, to spend time with him even when he pushed you away. at first, he kept pushing the feeling of worry away and told himself that it was nothing.

as one quiet day turned into a week, knives found himself growing more worried about you and pondered what could've caused this sudden change in behavior.

have i been too mean to them? did i say the wrong thing?

he would try to cut the thoughts before they got too out of hand, reminding himself of who he was and what he should be focusing on: the plants. however, it was almost impossible not to notice how lonely it got without you constantly around.

maybe that's why he found himself gravitating towards your room and maybe that's why he was staring at the closed door, fist frozen inches from it.

is this a good idea? he faltered for a second, then regained his posture. it won't hurt to ask them what's been going on. humans love talking about their feelings. just a few minutes and then back to normal. right? yeah, great, so just kno-

knives almost screamed when you opened your door suddenly, stumbling backwards. you jumped at the unexpected presence, covering your heart with your hand as you let out a shaky sigh.

"jeez, you really scared me," you managed and knives gulped, a sudden nervousness washing over him. "is there something you needed?"

fidgeting with the long sleeves of his cloak, knives couldn't seem to shake this odd feeling no matter how he tried. you raised an eyebrow and looked up and down the hallway before stepping back into your room, offering the haven of privacy to him as well.

"thank you," he murmured as he slipped by you into your room, watching you as you closed the door and took a seat on the edge of your bed.

"c'mon, sit." you patted the spot next to you, to which he obliged silently. "now, what's bothering you?"

knives cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze as he spoke, "well, i haven't really. . .seen you around and i, um, have been wondering what you've been up to."

you snorted into your hand but as soon as knives turned to furrow his brow at you, you burst into laughter. he stared at you as you fell back onto the bed, gasping for air.

"i'm sorry? what's so funny, (name)?" knives peered down at you and you wiped your eyes, regaining your composure. "did i say something?"

"no, no," you assured, "i'm just laughing at myself. i thought i was annoying you, knives, with all my affectionate advances so i decided to take a step back."

"affectionate? you -"

he stopped short, all the pieces in his brain clicking into place. the little gifts you've been bringing, the times you'd stick around late to listen to his rambling, the way you would go out of your way to spend time with him?

"oh my god, why didn't you say something sooner?" an embarrassed warmth spread over his cheeks rapidly and you sat up, poking him in the face.

"because i wasn't sure you felt that way about me," you admitted, pinching his reddened cheek playfully. "so, now that it's out in the open, is everything okay?"

"i'd like you to keep doing the affectionate stuff," he admitted meekly. "it makes me feel. . .warm inside. wanted. a feeling i didn't know existed. please, continue?"

"gladly," you responded quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "expect more than what i've done before, okay?"

[r0seb100d]

Dallas Winston x reader hiding at the abandoned church ⛪️🤍

Fem reader

Warnings: slight mention of abuse.

When Ponyboy and Johnny carefully nudged the creaky, splintered door of the abandoned church on Jay Mountain, where Dally had instructed them to hide, the last thing either of them could have expected to find was a delicate, feminine body, huddled like a small bunny on one of the pews.

Her lightly curled raven tresses had tumbled past her creamy right shoulder, which poked out from the farm sack she had wrapped around herself, desperately seeking warmth.

The boys' eyes widened as they both took a step back in shock.

"Is she dead?"

Pony asked as both boys backed away in uncertainty. Pony accidentally bashed into the wall, causing a loud thud to echo through the church's almost empty halls. Johnny's head snapped towards his, narrowing his eyes slightly, but soon both of their gazes were averted back to the girl, who was now shifting in her place, clearly waking up.

As she sat up slowly and let out a quiet yawn, the sack had slid off her shoulders, revealing the silky, white lace-trimmed dress she had on, slightly stained with mud and dust. Upon noticing the boys, she scrambled off the bench in haste, panic clearly written upon her flushed face.

"I'm sorry, l'lI be goin', just please leave me alone."

Johnny swiftly interrupted her.

"I-It's okay; we ain't going to hurt ya. I'm Johnny, Johnny Cade and this is Ponyboy Curtis."

Johnny figured there was no danger in telling her their names; there was no way anyone here would have heard of the news yet, especially not alone in this church.

She stopped in her tracks and stared intensely at them both, digging the heels of her mary janes into the blanket of dust and rubble.

Realising that they really weren't going to cause her any harm, she let out a gentle smile framed by the dimples in her cheeks.

Both boys smiled back at her, and the three of them stood somewhat uncomfortably in the decaying church, unsure of what to do next.

"What are you doin' here if you don't mind me asking?" Pony asked, chewing on his bottom lip.

The girl stood still for a few seconds, almost as if she were unsure of what to say, then cleared her throat.

"Um, well, I'm actually hiding. Or just looking for a place to sleep really. It's a long story. Oh, and my name is y/n" She peered down at her shoes.

Johnny smiled warmly at her.

"S'okay y/n. We sort of are too; it's also a long story.

"Well, I suppose we've got hours to kill if you guys are stayin' here."

The boys filled her in on all the chaos that had ensued in the past 24 hours, and though her sweet face twisted into concern for them, she was also slightly grateful that she had found some company that also had some troubles. It made her feel less alone, and maybe, maybe they could even become friends.

 ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

As the evening chill settled in, y/n rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm herself up, feeling the strawberry skin beneath her fingers. Pony noticed her slight shiver and, deciding to be gentlemanly, pulled off Dallas' brown leather jacket from around his waist and held it out to her.

"Here. You must be pretty cold in just that dress."

"Oh, thank you."

She was touched by the kind act and quickly took shelter in the comfort of the jacket that smelt faintly of tobacco and cologne.

"S'alright, it belongs to a friend of mine; he gave it to me right before we ran away. His name is Dallas; he kinda scares me a little, but he's a cool guy really. Tough too. You should meet him."

She smiled meekly at him and nodded.

"Yeah maybe. Then I can thank him for this."

She let out a slight laugh, fiddling with the worn ends of the sleeves that her arms drowned in.

"So what led you here?" Johnny enquired.

That was a good question. The events that had led here were more than ugly, but if Johnny and Pony could trust her and share what happened to them, she could trust them too. A shaky breath rattled from her chest, and her eyes glazed over slightly.

"My father, he's- he's, um, a pretty shitty person, and he only got worse after my mom died two years ago, beating me around and all that. And about 3 days ago, he just lost it."

Her voice trembled, and she fixated her eyes on the broken window, the jagged glass a painful reminder.

"He threatened to kill me; he had me in one hand and a shard of glass in the other. I escaped obviously, but I had no where to go, and god I'm just so screwed up."

By now, her voice and completely broken and hot tears were streaming down her face. She struggled to swallow the sobs that wracked through her body, and Johnny gently reached for her shoulder.

"It's okay now. We're safe here. Dal said so. And if it makes ya feel any better, my parents are pretty shitty too, and Pony lost his last year; you're not screwed up, just unfortunate. Dally should be up here soon, and if you'd like, I'm sure he'd know what to do."

"Thanks." She sniffled "I'm really lucky it was you guys who came in here and not some psycho. Guess I'm not too unfortunate."

Y/n leaned in and hugged them both, feeling a little bit safer with her newfound friends.

The three of them soon dozed off, all exhausted.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

When Dallas carefully nudged the creaky, splintered door of the abandoned church on Jay Mountain, where he had instructed Pony and Johnny to hide, the last thing he could have expected to find was the both of his friends laying next to a delicate, feminine body, huddled like a small bunny on one of the pews.

"What the-" He muttered quietly to himself before silently treading over to the trio, wanting to get a closer look while being wary not to wake them up. Where on earth had she come from? Who was she? Why was she here?

Glancing down at her sleeping face, Dallas could have sworn that his heart stopped. She was beautiful, angelic even. With her dark hair and pale skin with a twinge of pink on her cheeks, he couldn't help but stare. He then noticed that she was wrapped up in his jacket, and god did the sight do something to him.

Shaking those thoughts away, Dallas gently smacked the boys on their heads to wake them up.

"Man, you know, I must've really underestimated you guys. You've been here for what? Around 24 hours, and you've already managed to pick yourselves up a broad. Maybe runnin' away was all you needed." He teased with a wide grin plastered on his face. Better to focus on teasing them, or else his mind would surely stray to the third figure on the bench.

"Oh, shut it Dal. She's hidin' here too; we found her here when we first arrived. Her old man is a real asshole, threatened to kill her and everything. We figured you'd know what to do." Johnny rambled, looking to Pony for assurance.

"You guys have got to be shittin' me." Dallas took a deep puff from his cigarette, his brows tightly knit together. Though the thought of her being hurt that way made his stomach twist in a way he didn't want to admit, Dallas wasn't sure if he was willing to help a total stranger.

But god, just one glance back at her peaceful sleeping face already had him whipped. He was just a man after all, and she was a pretty girl.

With the boys deep in discussion, they hadn't noticed that she was now wide awake looking at them. She had realised that there was another guy with them. Another guy who was much taller, older, and rougher looking. He was gorgeous, and she felt nervous just sitting there in an old, soiled dress. When he turned to face her, both of their eyes widened and their hearts raced.

"Hi." The word sounded so silly, spilling out from her mouth. Why was she so nervous? She had only just met him.

"Hey doll." He had a faint New York accent with a husky voice, and the nickname made her head spin.

"Are you Dallas?"

"Yeah, Dallas, Dallas Winston, but call me Dally; Dallas reminds me of what the fuzz calls me."

"Nice to meet you, Dally; I'm y/n. Oh, and thanks for the jacket; Pony lent it to me." She shrugged it off and went to hand it to him, but he waved his ring-clad hand at her.

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you." Her cheeks flushed at his comment, and he couldn't help but find her flustered state cute.

"So I heard you need a place to stay." He took another drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah, something like that."

Sure, she was shy normally and had never been anything close to a social butterfly, but a two-minute interaction with Dallas had made her feel dizzy.

"I got a place you can stay; nothin fancy, but it's a place."

"I'd appreciate anything; thanks, Dally." His stomach twisted when she said his name.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

After hugging Johnny and Ponyboy goodbye and wishing them good luck, she followed Dallas out to a cherry-red T-bird parked outside of the church.

"Belongs to a friend of mine." Dallas told her and opened the passenger door to let her in.

“It’s nice.” He hummed in agreement.

The car was soon making its way back to Tulsa, and Dallas would be lying if he said he wasn’t being unusually careful with his driving, mindful of the girl in the passenger seat, not wanting to startle her.

God only knows why he was acting this way—so strangely soft and careful around someone he had just met—it felt so painfully unfamiliar yet natural all at once. It scared him.

She was absentmindedly tapping her fingers on the window sill, matching the tempo of the rock songs that played on the radio, her bare legs tucked underneath her on the leather seats.

What Dallas didn’t know, however, is that she was thinking of him too. Thinking of the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with recklessness yet also calculated precision. The way his hair was blowing with the wind that snuck through the crack of the open window, only a few strands framing his face, which had a gold hue to it from the early morning sun. He was rough. He had sharp edges, and it was obvious he had seen things that most could only dream of ever seeing, but in this moment, in the crimson car, he looked nothing short of angelic.

Wherever he ended up taking her, she hoped to see him again, talk to him, get to know him with all his roughness, and for him to know her with all her gentleness and cruel past. For them to know each other.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

౨ৎ 1.8k words. Might do a part 2! ౨ৎ

[maddiehu7]

Honorable | Elijah Mikaelson

Chapter 1

I hear my alarm ringing turning over groaning

"Ugh" I huff out smacking my alarm shutting it up, after a minute of procrastinating I finally get up brushing my teeth and getting ready for the day

"Outfit time" I sigh out looking at my closet flipping through some options I decide on a black cropped tank top some black skinny jeans and a dark green flannel open overtop

I go over to the door sliding my black combat boots on and I'm ready to go i grab some of my files and head out the door getting into my Chevy impala I was never a big car fan but when I saw this baby I had to have it, I'm heading to a bar/restaurant called mystic grill see if any locals seen anything out of the ordinary.

I walk in looking around at the place

"Hm nice" I say to myself heading to the bar i order a sprite and sit down, when I get my drink I sip it looking around at some of the people in here normal nice looking folk maybe there's no vamps here after all

"Hey your a new face" I hear someone say sitting down next to me I look over to see a pale black haired blue eyed tall man looking at me I'm on guard immediately getting a bad vibe

"Um yeah just passing through" I say smiling fakely hoping he leaves but he just smirks looking at me weirdly, I decide to pull my famous trick

"Hey want a drink" I say smiling at him

"How could I say no to that face" he says smiling back leaning on the counter

"Let me guess, bourbon?" I question

"How'd you know" he says looking a little confused

"You just have that vibe I guess" I say laughing

"Hey one bourbon please" I tell the bartender he nods making it fast handing it to to the man well he's not looking a pull out a little bottle of vervain slipping it in my sleeve

"I never got your name" I say licking my lips pretending to flirt

"Damon-damon Salvatore" he says reaching his hand out discarding his drink

"I'm more of a hugger" I say leaning over wrapping my arm around him as my other pours the vervain in his drink he hugs me back hands a little low for my liking, I back away

"Well cheers to new friends Damon" I say raising my drink he smirks raising his I drink mine slowly looking in his eyes he try's to do the same but when he drinks it he spits it out yelping in pain, Well there's definitely a case I think to myself

"Hey you ok?!" I feign innocence but he looks up at me in realization

"Who are you" he demands

"Me? Nobody" I say smiling he grabs my arm

"Come with me and I won't kill you right here" he says smiling back trying to not make a scene

"I'm calling your bluff" I say as I wretch my hand away from his hold getting up walking out of the bar I knew he'd follow so I pull my wooden dagger out hiding it in the waist of my jeans when I'm almost to my car I feel a strong wind behind me and suddenly I'm forced against my car Damon holding me by the shoulders

"I'll ask again nicely, who are you" he demands

"Vampire hunter but I guess you could've assumed that" i say smirking up at him he just scoffs going to say something when we hear a voice coming near us

"Damon?" A girl questions coming closer at this Damon let's go of me backing up

"Elena what are you doing here?" He questions annoyed he was interrupted

"Just getting some food what are you doing" she says looking at me confused

"Vampire hunter meet Elena" he says sarcastically

"What-what" Elena says confused and a little scared I could tell she was human

"Yep our very own Buffy the vampire slayer in town" he says with fake enthusiasm Elena looks deep in thought for a second

"Damon could I talk to you for a second" Elena says pulling him aside they talk and bicker for a moment before coming back to me

"Um so what's your name?" Elena asks politely I look at her in question but go along with it

"Scarlett" I say shortly she nods playing with her hands

"Scarlett, so your in town cause of vampires right?" She says I nod back at her looking at Damon which makes him put his hands up theatrically

"Ok well maybe you can help us then" I look over at her at that and laugh

"Me...help you....and your vampire" I say through laughs she just looks at me confused

"Told you it wouldn't work" Damon looks at Elena victoriously she rolls her eyes stepping closer to me I back away on guard even if she's human

"We're not gonna hurt you I promise" she says holding her hands up I look at Damon which makes him nod reluctantly in agreement

"What would you even need my help with?" I say curiously Elena smiles

"Have you ever heard of an original vampire?" She questions

"Yeah but those don't actually exist" I say factually which makes her look at me seriously I squint at her....no way

"Tell me everything" I say more intrigued than ever

( to be continued ) Elijah will come in soon I promise lol

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do follower shamura with a centipede reader that is the loyalty enforcer sorry for asking again I think tumblr has been eating my asks

When Shamura was first brought to the cult and immediately put in the stocks, Lamb asked if you could try assisting the spider in understanding their situation.

Their eyes seethed red like most dissenters, but tbh they were more confused than angry.

Being a Loyalty Enforcer was a tough job (aside from the top hat making your antennae slightly uncomfortable) with all the followers you had to talk to. Though you were more than happy to help Shamura. They just needed some enlightenment!

Right away, they confuse you for one of their guardians since they noticed your many arms (with extra sleeves for each one) and dozens of legs mostly hidden underneath the folds of your robe.

"Vephar...where are we...?"

"My apologies, but I'm not Vephar. They're praying over there. I'm [y/n]..the Loyalty Enforcer." You calmly introduce yourself. "I see your mind is troubled, so I'm here to help ease you into the cult."

"....has the Red Crown found a new bearer?"

It took you a second to realize they mistook the symbol on your hat for the actual crown, but you gently correct them on that, too. You have lots of patience while answering their questions.

Although of course, the inevitable question of Narinder came up...

"Where's my brother? I've missed him a lot. Has he been practicing everything I taught him?"

"He's...um..not here right now. At the moment, he's on a crusade with Lamb in our old domain."

Immediately, Shamura's mood shifts.

"....oh, that Lamb. Cursed Lamb, wretched Lamb. Why did he follow them into my cradle?! What if he doesn't come back? What if I don't see him for another thousand...?!" They're quick to panic, writhing around in the restraints, calling out to their brother.

Their screams and hisses start scaring the other followers, but you try to calm them down. You reassure them he'll come back, yet they're still quite distraught and ask if he's been treated cruelly.

That's a surprise to you, considering he was the one who sliced through their brain and yet...they're more concerned about him.

But you tell Shamura stories about how Narinder was thriving in the cult: how he attended the rituals/ceremonies with respect, how he cleaned up the bodies and icky stuff, and how he--despite never saying it--truly did miss his siblings, especially them.

Indeed, they wept that night, realizing their dear little brother was alright.

Once Shamura was more at ease, Lamb allowed you to release them and let them get acquainted with the cult.

You were their guide for the most part, showing them around and demonstrating how you kept everybody's loyalty in check.

They're impressed, although sometimes they forget your role (and still call you Vephar at times). But ofc you gently remind them of who you are again.

If anybody dares make fun of Shamura's memory loss, you'll give them an earful and/or send them straight to the pillory (if they're still spouting hate, you'll just get Lamb to deal with it).

In time, they rekindle their bond with Narinder and their other siblings, so you went back to your usual Loyalty Enforcer duties.

Ofc the ex-bishop of war still remembers how kind you've been to them and promises they'll never forget that.