#check out the chick charm

[montereybayaquarium]

Time to catch up with our puffin chicks!

🐣 Spud 🥔 and Yuzu 🍋, are growing unbeaklievably fast! Spud’s already showing off some serious feather fashion, and Yuzu is waddling into their best life.

Drop some love for these pufftastic pals as they keep soar into their next chapter! 💛

[writersdrug]

waitress reader’s reaction to bartender Ghost getting hit on by someone they think is more attractive?

Oh, she would be so so jealous.

You're wiping down your table, standing on your tippy-toes to reach the middle of the high-top, when you spot the receipt tucked in between the sugars and the pepper. Another successful, big tip, and you're tucking your rag into your server apron and jogging across the floor to share your victory with Simon - when you spot her.

She's sitting at the bar; perfect, blonde waves of her hair cascading down her upper back. She's stylish, wearing a green, corduroy jacket and skinny jeans, wedges on her perfectly manicured feet. Her ankles are crossed politely on the edge of the barstool, her back is arched with perfect posture, and you just know her boobs are a ten out of ten, even though you're facing her back. She's definetly taller than you, you can see that while she's sitting down.

You're so jealous you're probably steaming - and the worst part about it is Ghost. He's not giving her the gruff, unbothered attitude he usually gives everyone at the bar - far from it. He's leaning back against the liquor shelf, eyes crinkled in what you can only assume is a flirtatious smile, hands gripping the counter to flex those goddam Greek-god muscles. He listens to her as she prattles on, laughing at everything and anything he has to say (he just asked if she needed more napkins. Why the fuck is that so funny?!)

Truthfully, he's over this chick. He's the same as you, playing up his charm to keep those tips rolling in - but this girl is exhausting. Always laughing, kinda daft, talks like she's the only woman on the planet... his muscles are tense as he fights the urge to throw his rag at her, he's grimacing behind his mask, teeth clenching to hold back an annoyed groan and god does she ever shut the fuck up-

He notices you, standing in the middle of the restaurant floor, pen tucked into your hair, with flyaways sprouting from your scalp like fireworks, chin slightly jutted out in a pout. Your hands are balled into fists at your sides - you're choking your notepad to death, and you have the nastiest, most adorable look on your face that Simon's ever had the pleasure of seeing.

He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. "Doin' alright, luv?"

You blink at him, and he has to hold back a snort. The girl turns around to you - great. She's hot, too.

"Oh- hey..." she grabs her ramekin from her dish and holds it out to you. "Is there more ketchup?"

You glare at her for a few moments, not bothering to hide your distaste for her. Simon's about to get it himself, but you snatch the ramekin from her and storm past the kitchen door with a "lemme see."

Ghost furrows his brow at your irate behavior. He wonders if one of the customers gave you a hard time; he politely excuses himself from the woman (thank fuck, she's getting exhausting) and goes to check on you in the kitchen.

"-ye need a feckin' wot now?!"

"I need you to fill a ramekin with half ketchup and half tobasco!"

"Ye got hot sauce oan all th' bloody tables!"

"I need you to do it!"

Ghost chuckles to himself, putting the pieces together. He isn't blind - he recognizes that green-eyed monster anywhere, lord knows he's felt it too. Makes his chest ouff up a bit, seeing you get all ruffled and grumpy over him. It also makes him feel a bit better about fussing over you, when his patrons try to win you over. Guess we both have double standards.

You walk back out, smiling at the woman and handing her the ramekin back. "You got the last of the ketchup! Enjoy!" And, with a cheeky grin, you walk back off to tend to your tables.

She looks at Simon and he shrugs. "Looks like ya got lucky."

[johnbrand]

A Legend

Tracy could feel himself getting jittery, his nerves building up while he waited for his first customer.  He had never worked for a rideshare company before, but he was desperate for money. A guy could only go off of plasma donations for so long after college graduation, and without job offers piling up, Tracy deemed a temporary solution necessary. But now Tracy felt like everything was constricting; the small space inside his Prius, the oversized sweater he was wearing, his favorite pop divas singing from the stereo. He prayed that he would not have to talk much, wishing to be silent like those taxi drivers in every other movie set in New York. 

Taking a deep breath, Tracy heard the back door swing open and shut. Questions immediately flooded his head. Did he miss any hairs when he shaved this morning? Did he remove that pesky pimple patch? Ignoring the battering thoughts and turning around, Tracy found a muscular jock spread across the entire back seating area. 

“Are you Tracy?” the attractive customer asked, a bit confused. Despite being a couple of years younger than Tracy, the jock held a certain level of arrogance. This display of superiority intimidated Tracy and embarrassingly, turned him on a bit.

“I’m going to assume yes.” The jock asserted after waiting a moment longer. He then stuck out his hand with a smile. “Michael, in case it wasn’t obvious.”

Tracy’s eyes dashed between his phone and the handsome young man before him. “Oh uh…yeah,” the words spilled out clumsily as he took his hand.

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?” Michael questioned.

Tracy took a moment to respond, “Sorry, um I kinda am.” 

“No worries, man,” Tracy caught Michael’s smirk in the rearview mirror. “But with a name like ‘Tracy,’ I was expecting a chick or something.” 

Tracy blushed. “It was my grandfather’s name…” Trying his best to recover, he opted for a joke. “At least I didn’t get stuck with something worse, right?” Although his voice had come out a little tight, the attempt made the cut, as confirmed by Michael’s light chuckle.

“I guess,” Michael agreed. “But that’s why you go by Trace, right? Funny how that simple letter change can make you a whole lot manlier.”

“Hmm?” Having turned on the ignition and left the parking lot, Tracy was now juggling both driving and providing conversation. It was not a difficult task, but he found himself adjusting the stereo to better concentrate on the two tasks at hand.

“I mean you’ve been going by Trace since what, middle school?” Michael attempted to confirm.

Trace found himself a bit lost. “Why…how did you know that?”

Michael’s face broke out into a charming grin. “Stop being so timid, man. You’re a legend at the university! Even if you graduated a few years ago, your fame is still alive and well.”

Trace found himself a bit stunned. “Thanks…?”

“Don’t be so humble, bro” Michael frowned. “Everyone knows you were the star of the football team back in the day. The boys won’t shut up about you.”

“‘The boys’?” Trace asked curiously. 

“Yeah! ‘Trace was always committed to the team.’ ‘Trace was the epitome of masculinity.’ ‘Trace was…’, well, you get the idea.” Michael scratched idly at his pec before continuing. Tracy absentmindedly did the same to his own bulky counterparts. “Those guys look up to you! And by the looks of it, you hold up to your own legend.”

“I try to,” Trace smiled back, confidence creeping into his voice. Taking a wide turn, Trace could feel his thick forearm flexing while rotating the wheel, his bicep testing the limits of the tight athletic shirt’s fabric. Trace took a moment to examine himself in the rearview mirror. His stubble was on point, accenting his lantern-like jaw appropriately. His whole face in fact was quite macho.

“Checking yourself out, big man?” Michael caught Trace red-handed. The remark made Trace’s legs bloat a bit larger, forcing them further apart. “I’m surprised a guy with your height can even fit in this rust-bucket.” 

“You could argue the Fusion was meant for a 6’3 man,” Trace chuckled, his vocal chords a bit deeper. “But yeah once I get enough money, I’m getting a real, All-American truck.”

“Ah, so that’s what this side gig is for,” Michael nodded. “I was guessing it was a side hustle for the ladies.”

“What do you mean?” Trace turned the volume up slightly, the country music twanging a smidge heavier throughout the car.

“Isn't this just a stint to pick women up, double entendre intended? It's the other thing the guys are always talking about,” Michael commented. “‘Trace was always a lady killer.’ ‘Trace never pulled out.’ ‘Trace’s hit list was longer than anyone else’s.’”

Trace sat silent, turning into the destination’s parking lot.  “Is that part of the legend no longer true?” Michael pushed.

Once Trace found an open spot to station his car, he responded. “Oh it’s true,” he confirmed proudly. “In fact, you can tell the boys the number has doubled since graduation.”

Michael’s face copied Trace’s own cocky smirk. “I'll be happy to report that back. I’ll see you around then, man!”

Trace watched through the rearview mirror as Michael hopped out of the car. He then scanned his phone to find his next customer. Trace’s thick fingers automatically drifted to the “Female, 18-25” range, searching for someone to give a ride too, double entendre intended.

[princessbrunette]

mascot!jj had charmed you.

he had handed you the party invite whilst wearing the full mascot get up, sweaty hair stuck to his head, cheeks flushed post game, tongue wetting his lips. jj was an odd one, the rules were different at college. you can be a dork, a mascot for the sports team — but if you were likeable, charming, and cute — you’d still get invited places.

“better see you there, i’m like, so serious.” he’d grinned when he placed the flier in your hand, eyes lingering before he runs off to hand out more.

now there you were, watching him be a social butterfly — shyly stood at his side with a tight dress on. it was nice to see him without the big mascot costume, now stood there — looking alot less sweaty, the college sweatshirt on, a cap sat snugly backwards on his head. you already knew he was cute and charming, but tonight you were seeing him in a different light. the type that made you down your drink a lot quicker, needing that buzz of confidence.

you were aware of rafe’s presence at this party, and that he wanted you — so naturally he wasn’t very happy about seeing you lingering around jj the whole night. the cameron boy was already pretty gone by the time you’d turned up, so it was hard to keep his attention for too long anyway — rafe getting sucked into beer pong with the boys or worse, disappearing to the bathroom and reappearing fifteen minutes later sniffing and playing with his nose. he’d give you a sweaty five minutes, grinding up behind you on the dance floor before running off to force his friends to ‘chug.’

but you had jj’s attention. he didn’t miss a beat.

when it came to passing around a joint, he practically smacked it out of his friends hand to grab at it.

“dude, seriously — y’gotta offer it to the lady first. where are your manners? like…” he scolds, shaking his head before holding it up with raised brows. “care for some greens m’lady?” he presents, making you giggle. you lower your voice, a little embarrassed.

“i’ve never done that before.”

he’s quick, eyes widening and jerking his hand away. “oh— forget it then. it’s gone. s’totally cool we don’t gotta—”

“wait— no i… i wanna try… with you.” you bring your hands to a clasp on your lap, lifting your shoulders shyly as if to bat away the eyes on your interaction, and you physically watch him melt. not only in relief, but in adoration.

“wh— really? don’t feel like you have to. i’m cool either way.”

you take two tokes and you’re done, and jj is indeed cool with it. chuckling as he takes it away from you, he brings it to his own mouth, inhaling before blowing away from you and standing up. “y’know what? sometimes two is like, more than enough. gettin’ you some water ‘kay, two secs.”

you’re all warm and hazy as you watch him walk away, grinning ear to ear as you don’t even acknowledge rafe shoulder checking him as they pass eachother, saying something you don’t hear. jj flips him off as he walks on, and that’s that. you’ve never had two guys fight over you before, and though usually you hate the attention being on you, even when you’re up dancing on that field— you couldn’t help but feel some arousal stirring inside you. it was nice to feel wanted.

maybe that’s why you downed your drink, why that shyness started to drain your body, why you ended up in some sorority chicks walk in closet, practically climbing jj maybank as you frantically overlap tongues.

you can’t believe the words flying from your mouth as you pant wetly in his ear, so beside yourself you couldn’t believe it. his hand is stuffed down your panties, jaw dropping when he really acknowledges how soaked you are. “wanna— wanna suck you off, jayj.” you moan, and even in the moment you know you sound like a desperate pornstar. jj physically shudders, eyes screwing shut like he could cum right there.

“you— okay— i mean there’s no way like you’re impossibly hot and should be seriously like… not interested in me dude — sorry not dude, you’re not a— whatever, lemme make you cum— see how ya feel after.”

he shakes his head at his own rambling, dropping a quick kiss to your cheek when you freeze to listen to him with wide glossy eyes, biting his lip and scrunching his nose in concentration as he extends his arm a little more, trying to find that spot. surprisingly, it seemed like he’d done this quite a few times before. if you weren’t so aroused, your stomach might’ve twisted in jealousy.

he sinks his middle finger inside you, and extends his thumb to dust little circles over your clit and your knees buckle, jaw dropping. he supports more of your weight, nodding knowingly. “yup. theeere it is. alright, lemme get you right mama.”

and that he did.

[winwintea]

my funny valentine

PAIRING ↬ best friend!lee donghyuck x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, horror, suspense, romance, crack, tooth fairy haechan, <- trust me that'll make sense, they play detectives, stalker au, valentines au, flirty jaemin, songwriter and poet mark lee, painter renjun, they all kinda down bad for y/n a little though

WARNINGS  ↬ teeth. and it's gross. also stalkers !!

SUMMARY ↬ for valentines day all you wanted to do was chill with your best friend. unfortunately for you, there's a little someone claiming to be your secret admirer bringing you cryptic valentine's day gifts. you brush it off until the gifts start getting more and more sinister. can you and haechan solve this mystery before it's too late? (and can he confess some of his own feelings to you while he's at it?)

WORD COUNT ↬ 4.8k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ while this may not be a FUNNY fic, it’s very heavily inspired by MISAMO’s “Funny Valentine” so please go check that song out and give it some love <33

PLAYLIST ↬ the wolf - siames; stalker’s tango - autoheart; bust your knee caps - pomplamoose; smoke and mirrors - jayn; tag, you’re it - melanie martinez; funny valentine - misamo

The air outside is crisp, a reminder that winter hasn’t fully let go, despite the pink and red decorations plastered across storefronts. Valentine’s Day is a week away, and yet, as you step out of your apartment, the holiday is the furthest thing from your mind.

Until you nearly trip over something at your doorstep.

A single red rose rests against the welcome mat, its petals velvety and deep, almost too perfect to be real. A small, cream-colored card, tied around with a black ribbon sits at the center.

You bend down, fingers brushing over the card as you flip it open.

“You don’t see me for who I am, but I see you.”

A strange shiver trails down your spine.

You glance around the hallway of your apartment complex. The usual dull lighting flickers slightly, and the air is still. No sounds of footsteps, no hushed whispers from neighbors. Just silence.

A prank? A weird marketing gimmick? Maybe even a mistaken delivery? You don’t have a secret admirer. Or at least, not one you know of.

Still, you tuck the note into your pocket and step back inside, leaving the rose on the counter as you grab your phone. Without thinking, you call the one person who would get a kick out of this.

The line barely rings before Haechan picks up.

"Yo, what’s up?" His voice is warm, laced with the lazy charm that makes it impossible to tell whether he's just woken up or has been up scheming since dawn.

“You’ll never guess what I just found at my door.”

“You finally got that Amazon package you forgot you ordered?”

“No, you idiot.” You roll your eyes, staring at the rose. “A gift. A creepy one.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, Haechan’s intrigued hum. “Creepy, huh? You have my attention. Spill.”

You quickly relay the details—the rose, the note, the unsettling feeling gnawing at your gut. You half-expect him to laugh it off, but instead, his voice drops into something quieter, more serious.

"And you're sure it wasn't left at the wrong door?"

"I’m not sure about that. My name wasn’t on it, but my neighbors are men. Who would do this to a guy?”

Another pause. Then, a small chuckle. "Well, well. Looks like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer."

"Not funny."

"Are you kidding? It’s hilarious." You can practically hear his grin through the phone. "You're living in a real-life romance movie. Or a horror movie. Either way, I’m invested."

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "So what do I do? Just… ignore it?"

"Absolutely not. We investigate. Duh."

Your brows furrow. "Investigate? It's probably just some dumb joke."

"Or," he counters, voice dripping with amusement, "it's the beginning of something way more interesting. C'mon, don't you wanna know who’s behind this? What if it’s some insanely hot dude or chick who’s just so in love with you but socially inept?”

You scoff. "Yeah, because nothing says romance like borderline stalking."

"Hey, some people are just dedicated," he teases. "Look at those BookTok people. And tell you what—meet me at the café in an hour. Bring the note. I wanna see it."

"You’re actually taking this seriously?"

"Of course! A mystery has landed right at your doorstep. And as your best friend, it is my duty to help you solve it."

You sigh. Haechan has always been dramatic.

"Fine," you relent. "But if it turns out to be a stupid prank, you owe me coffee."

"You got it, Valentine."

The café is buzzing with the usual mid-morning crowd: college students hunched over laptops, couples sharing pastries, baristas calling out names over the hum of conversation. The scent of coffee and warm vanilla lingers in the air, comforting and familiar.

You spot Haechan immediately. He’s lounged in the corner booth, one arm draped over the back of the seat, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he watches you approach.

“Took you long enough,” he teases as you slide into the seat across from him. “I was starting to think your mystery lover got to you first.”

You roll your eyes, fishing the note out of your pocket and dropping it onto the table in front of him. “Here. Do your thing, Sherlock.”

Haechan picks up the note with exaggerated care, holding it between his fingers like it’s a sacred artifact. He squints, tilts his head, even sniffs it dramatically before nodding. “Yep. Just as I suspected.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“This is definitely paper.”

You snatch the note back, smacking his arm with it. “Wow, incredible deduction dipshit.”

He laughs, dodging your hand before leaning in, his expression shifting into something more thoughtful. “No, but seriously. This is weird. The handwriting is neat, almost too neat. Like someone either really took their time or… copied it.”

You frown. “Copied it?”

“Yeah. Like, I dunno, tracing someone else's writing. See how the pressure is kinda uneven in some spots? It’s like they were trying too hard to be precise.”

You blink, staring at him. “Since when are you an expert in handwriting analysis?”

Haechan grins, tapping his temple. “I watch a lot of crime documentaries. Also, Renjun had a forgery phase in middle school, so I picked up a few things.”

“Of course he did,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Okay, so say you’re right—what does that mean?”

“It means whoever wrote this was really careful about not being recognized.” He leans back, drumming his fingers on the table. “Which makes me think this isn’t just some dumb prank. They don’t want you to know who they are.”

That unsettling feeling from earlier creeps back up your spine.

“What if it’s someone we know?” you ask, voice quieter now.

Haechan tilts his head, considering. “Could be. Or it could be some rando with a crush. Either way, we have a mission. I’ll show you just how good a duo we’ll be.”

You exhale. “And that mission is…?”

“To find out who’s been leaving you love letters, obviously.” He grins, reaching for his coffee. “And if they turn out to be hot, I take full credit for setting you up.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey, I take my best friend duties very seriously.”

You roll your eyes, but still can’t help but feel a bit uneasy by it all.

The uneasy feeling from the café lingers as you make your way home.

"They don’t want you to know who they are."

"What if it’s someone we know?"

You shake the thoughts away as you unlock your door, stepping inside. The first thing you notice is the rose, still resting on the counter where you left it. Something about it feels different now—less like a mystery and more like a warning.

You inhale deeply, trying to push the paranoia aside. Maybe this is all just a prank. Maybe Haechan’s just hyping it up because he loves drama. Maybe—

Your phone buzzes.

[Unknown Number]: Did you like my first gift?

A sharp jolt of fear twists in your stomach. Your fingers tighten around your phone as you stare at the message.

Not a prank.

Your mouth runs dry as you hesitate before typing back.

[You]: Who is this?

Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then appear again.

[Unknown Number]: You’ll see soon enough.

Your heart pounds.

And then… three quick knocks on your front door.

You jump, whipping around to stare at it. The knock surprisingly wasn’t loud nor aggressive. However it got the message across.

Slowly, you step forward, peeking through the peephole. The hallway is empty. With a shaky breath, you unlock the door and crack it open just enough to peek outside.

A small, velvet box sits on your welcome mat.

Another gift.

You glance both ways down the hall—still empty. Whoever left it is already gone. 

Heart hammering, you crouch down and carefully pick up the box, stepping back inside before locking the door behind you. Your fingers tremble slightly as you open it.

Inside is a delicate silver locket, its chain coiled neatly in the box. You hold it up to the light, examining the intricate engravings along the edges. It’s beautiful—almost vintage.

But when you pry it open, your breath catches in your throat.

Inside is a tiny photograph. One you recognize immediately.

It’s you.

You, standing outside your apartment building, smiling at the camera. But what makes your stomach turn is the person beside you.

Because there was someone beside you. But their face has been completely scratched out. And you have no idea who it is.

Your pulse roars in your ears as your grip tightens around the locket.

This isn’t a joke.

You fumble for your phone and dial Haechan’s number. He picks up almost immediately.

"Yo, miss me already?"

"Haechan." Your voice comes out unsteady, breathless. "It happened again."

A pause. Then, his tone shifts. It’s calm, but sharper now. "I’m coming over."

Fifteen minutes. That’s all it takes for Haechan to show up at your door, slightly out of breath, a bag of convenience store snacks in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Okay,” he says, pushing past you into the apartment, “give me the rundown. And before you ask, yes, I brought emergency snacks because I know you stress-eat.”

You let the door swing shut behind him, arms crossed. “Haechan, this is serious.”

“I am taking it seriously.” He tosses a bag of chips onto the counter before turning to you. “Now, tell me everything before I assume you’ve been cursed by a Victorian ghost.”

You exhale, pulling the velvet box from your pocket and flipping it open. “I found this at my door. Look inside.”

Haechan steps closer, peering down at the locket. He picks it up, flipping it open with careful fingers. His expression shifts immediately—the usual mischief in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker.

“The hell…?” He traces a thumb over the scratched-out face in the photo. “Okay. This? This is officially creepy.”

“No kidding,” you mutter, rubbing your arms as if that will rid you of the lingering unease. “It’s my photo, Haechan. And someone ruined it.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at the image. When he finally looks up, his gaze is sharp. “Where did they even get this picture?”

“I don’t know. That’s what freaks me out.” You sit on the edge of your couch, fingers gripping the fabric of your sweater. “Someone had to have taken it themselves. But I don’t remember anyone standing next to me like this.”

Haechan clicks his tongue, flipping the locket shut. “Alright. That settles it. We need a suspect list.”

You blink. “You say that like this is some kind of crime show.”

“Well, yeah,” he deadpans. “Except way more fun because it’s happening to you.”

You throw a pillow at his head. He dodges it effortlessly, grinning.

“Okay, okay,” he says, plopping down next to you. “Real talk. Do you know anyone who might be obsessed with you? Secret admirer type, or maybe even an ex with attachment issues?”

You think for a moment. And then—

“…Jaemin.”

Haechan’s brows shoot up. “Jaemin?”

You nod, stomach twisting. “He flirts with me constantly, even when I brush him off. Plus, I know I’ve caught him taking pictures of me before, but he always plays it off like it’s just a joke.”

Haechan leans back, considering. “Okay. Solid lead. What’s our game plan?”

You chew on your lip before standing. “We ask him directly.”

Haechan grins, standing up beside you. “Ooooh, an interrogation? Spicy.”

You roll your eyes, shoving your phone into your pocket. “Let’s just get this over with.”

And with that, the two of you head out—ready to confront the first suspect.

Jaemin’s usual hangout is the campus library, though calling it “studying” is generous. More often than not, he’s lounging in one of the oversized chairs, scrolling through his phone, pretending to be busy.

That’s exactly where you find him now, stretched out with his feet propped up on another chair, earbuds in, humming to himself.

Haechan nudges you. “Your not-so-secret admirer is in his natural habitat.”

You sigh, straightening your shoulders before striding over. Jaemin looks up just as you plant your hands on the table in front of him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets smoothly, pulling out an earbud. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Haechan plops down beside him. “We have some questions.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “We?”

“Yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “And you’re going to answer them.”

His lips twitch, amused. “Sounds serious.”

“It is serious,” you snap, pulling out the locket and placing it in front of him. “Know anything about this?”

Jaemin’s gaze flickers to the locket, and for the first time, his smirk falters. His fingers twitch like he wants to pick it up, but he hesitates.

“What is this?” he asks, voice quieter now.

“You tell me,” you say. “It showed up at my door today. Someone left it for me, along with a creepy note. And considering how often you love taking pictures with me, I thought I’d start with you.”

Jaemin’s jaw tightens. “You think I gave you this?”

Haechan tilts his head. “Well, you do flirt with Y/N like it’s your full-time job.”

Jaemin exhales through his nose, leaning forward. “Okay, yeah, I flirt. But this?” He taps the locket. “This isn’t me. I’d never scratch out my own damn face.”

Your stomach clenches. “So you recognize the picture?”

Jaemin hesitates for half a second too long. Then, he shakes his head. “No.”

You and Haechan exchange a look.

“You’re lying,” Haechan accuses. “Dude, you hesitated.”

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know where this came from, but I’ve seen that photo before. Just… not like this.”

Your pulse quickens. “Where?”

Another pause. Then, reluctantly, Jaemin mutters, “Renjun’s phone.”

Both you and Haechan freeze.

“What?” Haechan blurts. “Why would Renjun have a picture of Y/N on his phone?”

Jaemin shrugs. “No clue. It was a while ago. I remember seeing it and asking why he had it, but he just brushed me off. Thought it was weird, but not, y’know—this weird.” He gestures to the locket.

You stare at him, heart pounding. Could it be Renjun?

Haechan crosses his arms. “Alright, Nana. We’ll put you on the ‘maybe’ list for now. But if we find out you’re lying…” He drags a finger across his throat dramatically.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Can I go back to existing now?”

You nod slowly, mind already racing ahead.

If Renjun had that photo… What else did he have?

And what would the next gift be?

The walk back to your apartment is tense. Haechan is uncharacteristically quiet beside you, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, his brows furrowed in thought.

"You okay?" you ask.

He exhales through his nose. "Just thinking. If Jaemin’s telling the truth, why would Renjun have that picture?"

"That’s what we’re going to find out," you murmur.

When you finally reach your apartment door, a chill runs down your spine. Sitting on your welcome mat is another small box, this time heart-shaped and a deep shade of crimson.

"Of course," Haechan mutters. "Right on schedule."

You swallow hard, exchanging a wary glance with him before bending down to pick it up. Unlike the velvet box from before, this one is heavier. With trembling fingers, you lift the lid—

A soft, eerie melody drifts into the air.

A music box.

But something is… off. The tune warbles and distorts, as if the mechanism inside is struggling to play correctly. It’s haunting, a melody that should be sweet but instead sends a shiver down your spine.

Inside, nestled among the delicate gears, is a small folded note.

A song just for you.

You stare at the words, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Haechan leans in. "Okay, I really don’t like this one."

You shut the lid abruptly, cutting off the melody. "Me neither."

"Who the hell writes you a personalized creepy lullaby?" he mutters. Then, his eyes widen slightly, realization dawning. "Wait. Music. Writing. Oh, come on—"

"Mark." You say his name at the same time Haechan does.

Mark has always been the sentimental type. From writing poetry to composing random melodies in his free time. If anyone had the skills to create something like this, it was him.

You grip the box tighter. "We need to talk to him."

Haechan nods. "Now."

You and Haechan find Mark exactly where you expect him, tucked away in a corner of the campus music room, hunched over a notebook, a pencil pressed against his lips. His fingers tap absentmindedly against the desk, keeping rhythm to whatever melody is playing in his head.

Haechan nudges you. "Caught him in the act. Very suspicious."

You shoot him a look before stepping forward. "Mark."

Mark glances up, blinking in surprise. "Oh, hey. What’s up?"

You waste no time, setting the music box down on the desk in front of him. His eyes flicker to it, then back to you.

"Did you make this?" you ask.

His eyebrows pull together. "Uh… no?"

Haechan crosses his arms. "You sure? Because we know you write songs. And poems. And you definitely know everything about Y/N—"

"Okay, dude, chill," Mark interrupts, looking bewildered. "What’s going on?"

You exhale, rubbing your temple. "Someone’s been leaving me gifts. Creepy ones. This music box was the latest, and since you’re literally the most musically gifted person I know, I thought—" You hesitate. "I thought maybe it was you."

Mark stares at the box for a moment before shaking his head. "It’s not me."

"Not even a little?" Haechan presses.

Mark sighs. "Look, yeah, I write songs. And sure, I might notice things. Like when you change your coffee order or cut your hair. Maybe I think you’re really cute. But that doesn’t mean I’m stalking you."

Haechan raises a skeptical brow. "Then what about your latest poetry post? The one about ‘loving from afar’?"

Mark’s expression shifts. His ears turn red.

Oh.

You narrow your eyes. "Mark?"

He groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "That wasn’t about you, okay?"

Haechan gasps, dramatic as ever. "Then who?"

Mark hesitates, then mutters, "My ex."

You and Haechan exchange a look.

"Oh," you say.

"Oh," Haechan echoes, slightly disappointed. "So you’re the heartbroken one, not the creepy one."

Mark shoots him a glare. "Obviously."

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. "Okay. Sorry for accusing you. This whole thing is just messing with my head."

Mark softens. "Yeah, I get it. But seriously, if someone’s messing with you, you should be careful."

You nod, but your mind is already racing ahead.

The moment you step into your apartment, you feel it.

Something is waiting for you again.

Your breath catches as your eyes land on the small, folded piece of paper slipped under your door. The edges are slightly frayed, as if it had been torn from a notebook in a rush.

Haechan picks it up before you can. His fingers brush over the paper before carefully unfolding it. His eyes scan the words, his expression darkening.

You take the page from him and read:

"I see you even when you don’t see me.I wonder if you know how much you mean to me.If I could just tell you—”

The words stop abruptly, the last sentence unfinished.

And at the bottom, only a single initial is signed:

“R.”

You stare at it, heart hammering. "R."

Haechan exhales. "Renjun."

It makes sense. Jaemin had mentioned Renjun having your picture. And now this, a love confession, hesitant and unfinished.

You swallow hard. "We need to talk to him."

Haechan nods. "Before another one of these shows up."

Renjun is easy to find.

The art studio on campus is practically his second home, and sure enough, when you and Haechan arrive, he’s hunched over a sketchbook, completely lost in his work. His pencil moves in steady strokes, the faintest furrow between his brows as he concentrates.

Haechan leans in. “Bet he’s sketching you right now.”

You elbow him before clearing your throat. “Renjun.”

Renjun jumps, startled, before snapping his sketchbook shut. “Oh—hey. What are you guys doing here?”

Haechan plucks the journal page from your grasp and drops it onto his desk. “Care to explain this?”

Renjun’s gaze flickers to the torn-out page. He lets out a sharp inhale, as his shoulders start tensing.

“So it is yours.”

Renjun stays silent for a beat too long before he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Where did you get this?”

“It was slipped under my door,” you say carefully. “You signed it with ‘R.’”

Haechan crosses his arms. “Looks real bad, dude.”

Renjun lets out a quiet laugh, but it’s more of a nervous laugh than a humorous one. “Yeah… I can see that.”

Your pulse quickens. “So you did write it?”

Another pause. Then, finally, he nods. “Yeah. But not for you.”

You blink. “What?”

Renjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I did write that confession. But it’s old…I wrote it last year, for someone else.” He taps the page, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I threw this out months ago. I have no idea how you ended up with it.”

Haechan whistles low. “Okay, that’s actually kinda messed up.”

Renjun shakes his head. “ If someone dug this up just to mess with you… That’s not romantic. That’s obsessive.”

You grip the edge of the desk. “Then what about those photos you took of me? 

Renjun looks at you, his expression not wavering, “I take photos of everyone. It’s practice for more naturalistic portrayals of human figures.”

A chill runs down your spine.

If Renjun didn’t leave the page for you… then the real admirer wasn’t just watching you. If they had gotten their hands on Renjun’s photos then…

They were watching everyone.

That night, you barely sleep.

Renjun’s words keep replaying in your mind. ‘That’s not romantic. That’s obsessive.’

The pieces aren’t fitting together. The gifts, the messages, the calculated way they’re being delivered. This isn’t just someone with a crush. This is someone who has been planning this.

You’re still lost in thought when you hear it.

A soft thud outside your door.

Slowly, you sit up, heart pounding in your ears. Haechan, asleep on your couch, stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. You swallow hard and push yourself to your feet. Step by step, you inch toward the door, pulse hammering with every movement.

You already know what’s waiting for you.

Another gift.

With trembling hands, you open the door.

Sitting on the welcome mat is a small, heart-shaped box, identical in size to the one that held the music box. But this time, the deep red velvet is stained. Dark splotches sinking into the fabric, like something wet had been resting there before drying.

Your stomach turns.

Slowly, you pick it up. It’s heavier than you expect.

You hesitate. Then, you lift the lid.

Inside, cushioned in soft silk, isn’t chocolate.

It’s a tooth.

A human tooth.

Your throat felt dry as you wanted to retch in disgust, while the box nearly slips from your hands. Your vision blurs as you stare at it, uncomprehending, unwilling to believe what you’re seeing.

Beneath the tooth, there’s a note.

"Now you’re mine."

Your fingers shake as you unfold the small slip of paper.

And that’s when you see it.

The handwriting.

It’s Haechan’s.

Your body goes cold.

Behind you, the couch creaks as he shifts in his sleep.

And you realize—

You’re trapped inside your apartment.

With him.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

Every nerve in your body screams at you to move. But you’re frozen. The weight of the realization crashes over you in suffocating waves.

It was him.

It was always him.

A slow creak fills the silence. The sound of someone shifting.

“Hm… you’re up?”

Your breath stutters as you whip around. Haechan is sitting up on the couch, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His voice is laced with drowsiness, but his gaze—when it lands on you—is sharp.

Too sharp.

His eyes drop to the box in your hands. He sees the note. The tooth. And then… he smiles.

A lazy, knowing smile.

Your stomach twists. “Haechan…”

He tilts his head, still watching you. “You don’t look happy to see your gift. But don’t worry I’ve improved on it.”

Your grip tightens on the box. “Why?”

Haechan exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’ve just asked something ridiculous. “Come on, Y/N. You’re smart. You’ve been smart this whole time. Figuring out clues, questioning the right people.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Except you never questioned me.”

You take a step back. “You helped me.”

“I guided you.” He corrects, his voice smooth. “I made sure you followed the right trail. I led you to suspects just to watch your reactions. Watch you look at them instead of me.” His smile widens, his dimples deep but unsettling. “And you fell for it. Every time.”

Your skin crawls. “The rose. The music box. The torn-out page?”

“All me,” he confirms easily. “Jaemin? Mark? Renjun? They were never real threats. Just distractions. I needed to make sure your eyes weren’t on me until the right moment.”

“And the tooth?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Haechan’s smile fades slightly, his expression unreadable. “That one’s special.” His fingers brush over his lower lip, and something dark flickers behind his gaze. “A part of me. It’s yours now.”

No way.

"Now we match."

A sick realization slithers through you.

Haechan… pulled out his own tooth.

For you. 

A cold sweat prickles down your spine. “You’re insane.”

Haechan only grins. “I’m in love.”

You feel the blood drain from your face.

He sighs, standing up slowly. “I knew you wouldn’t understand right away. That’s why I took my time. I sent gifts and gave you a story to follow.” His voice softens, almost affectionate. “I wanted to watch you figure it out. I wanted to see the exact moment you realized it’s always been me.”

He takes a step forward.

And you take a step back.

His eyes flicker with amusement. “Still running from me?”

Your fingers curl into fists.

You need to get out.

Now.

Haechan watches you like a predator sizing up its prey. His smile is still there, but now, you can see it for what it truly is. A mask. A carefully crafted performance. And you were his favorite audience.

Then, he moves.

Slow, deliberate. Like he has all the time in the world. From his pocket, he pulls out a small velvet box. A jewelry box. He rolls it between his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before sliding it across the coffee table toward you. “I saved the best for last,” he murmurs.

You don’t want to look.

But you do.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the box, flipping it open. Inside, nestled in dark velvet, are a pair of earrings.

The charms dangle from delicate gold hooks, polished smooth. But even in the dim light of your apartment, you can see them for what they are.

Teeth.

Human teeth.

Your stomach twists violently.

Haechan hums, tilting his head. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? I worked so hard on these.” His voice drops into something softer, almost coaxing. “You’ll wear them, won’t you?”

Your breath comes in shallow gasps.

You need to get out.

Haechan sees it before you even move. His lips curl into a knowing smirk, and then—

The lights flicker.

A click.

Your front door.

Locked.

Your heart slams against your ribs. “Haechan—”

He only smiles, stepping closer.

“Shh,” he soothes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, baby.”

A flickering TV screen bathes the darkened room in cold, artificial light. The newsroom anchor, a solemn-looking woman, speaks in a measured, professional tone.

"Breaking news tonight—local authorities have launched an investigation into the disappearance of Y/N L/N, last seen on February 14th. Friends report that they were searching for a secret admirer who had been leaving a series of mysterious gifts. However, they never returned home. If you have any information regarding their whereabouts, please contact—"

The report continues, but the sound is drowned out by the hum of a familiar tune.

A figure strolls past the display window of an electronics store, hands tucked casually into his pockets. His hoodie shields most of his face, but the dim glow of the screens flickers against his features.

Haechan.

A soft, lilting hum escapes his lips.

"My funny valentine…"

He walks on, disappearing into the city’s shadows.

The TV screen flickers.

The missing person poster flashes across the screen.

“The case remains open.”

“For now.”

me when i basically lied in the summary but not really 🫶🤗 love u guys too !!

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[dazzlerwriting]

cowboy take me away

j.seresin x reader

pictures not mine, credits to pinterest

1k words

summary: sort of inspired by “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks. (great song you should check it out!) what was supposed to be a celebratory night, turns into reader sitting alone at a bar in texas. that is until a blonde aviator, visiting home, notices her.

Warnings: fluff! reader has not great friends. talks about an ex boyfriend. Alcohol consumption. Jake Seresin being a charming man? She/her pronouns are used and reader is said to be shorter than jake! no use of y/n!

authors note: first fic!! lmk what you think!

Sitting alone in a bar in the middle of Austin, Texas was not how you thought your Saturday was going to go. You had recently graduated from University of Texas in Austin so you thought you would be out with your boyfriend and friends, celebrating the fact that you were finally going to go to the University of California San Diego to get your masters in Educational Studies. But you just broke up with your boyfriend due to his extreme lack of interest in your relationship. He literally shrugged when you told him it was over. On top of that your friends seemingly forgot that you had plans, go figure.

So now you were sitting in some bar, under the soft disco lighting, with cowboy hats everywhere, fiddling with the straw in your drink, wondering how it could all go sour so fast.

“Is this seat taken?” a strong voice with a southern drawl asked. You whipped your head so fast you thought you could see the looney tunes birds flying, but no, what you saw was a man with sandy blonde hair and eyes that could rival the trees in the Ozarks. “Oh! Um N-no. No, it’s not.” He took his seat with a devilish smirk and waved down the bartender to order another drink for himself. While doing so you missed the part where he ordered you another drink. You were too busy roaming your eyes from the black Stetson that sat on top of his head, to the shirt that said “US Navy” & “H_ngm_n” on the pocket, and finally to the steel-toed cowboy boots that sat on his feet.

You heard a cough, and that’s when you realized he had been talking to you and was a bit closer now. Get it together he just asked a simple question and you just got out of a relationship, you scolded yourself. “Sorry, sorry what did you say?”

The smirk on his face just grows a bit bigger while replying, “I was just asking why a pretty girl like you looks so defeated in the most lively bar in all of Austin?”

Great. He’s charming and astute apparently. Now you can either lie to this very handsome man, or you can become the stereotypical person who dumps everything at the bar. Saved by the bell, or bartender in this case, because he delivers the drinks to you both, making the smirk on this man’s face slide to a polite smile, and also giving you a sense of reprieve at this moment.

“I’m Jake by the way, sorry if the question was too intense for an introduction. Can’t help but be curious.” You give him your name and the smirk is back way too quickly. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he replied, his smirk turning to a kind smile. “Does that work on all of the girls?” you snap back quickly. He looks a bit taken aback by the question, but that doesn’t deter him one bit, “Wouldn’t know, did it work on you?”

Sighing you finally turn to face him fully, taking in his form once again. After the day you’ve had, you decide you’ll entertain him for a bit, “Ya know what cowboy, it might’ve but don’t let that get to your head. We don’t need that cowboy hat to fall off.” Jake takes you in for a minute and gives you a smile that might be the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a bit. “So you gonna tell me why you’re lookin’ all sad in the middle of this bar?” he asks you once again, and you finally decide you need to at least tell someone or you might cry. So with your head down and while fidgeting with your hands, you tell him, “I just got accepted into the master’s program I applied for and to celebrate I was gonna meet my boyfriend and friends here. As you can see neither are here. I broke up with him and my friends all forgot or something, who knows.” You finally take a breath and look back up to see him looking at you with the slightest hint of concern.

He shakes his head and laughs gently. “Well, I guess congratulations are in order for the graduate, and for getting rid of the boyfriend who didn’t appreciate the beauty in his life.” With a soft smile, he tips his beer towards you and you do the same.

He abruptly stands up and holds out his hand, a silent question for a dance. You take it with a quizzical look on your face, and he drags you to the middle of the dance floor; now that you’re there, you look around and see that this place has cleared out a bit since you first got here. He looks down at you with a bit of adoration and says “A congratulatory dance is a necessity.”

He grabs your hips, while you wrap your arms around his neck, and it’s at this moment you realize that you would much rather be here, wrapped in this stranger’s arms, dancing to “Cowboy Take Me Away” than in the silence that your ex would’ve given. Looking at Jake with a smirk on your face, “The song is real fitting if you ask me, cowboy.” Your fingers are playing with the soft hair at the bottom of his head, and for a second it’s like a cat reacting to someone scratching their head. You’d be shocked if he didn’t start purring.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” he replies with a soft chuckle. Looking into each other’s eyes, you stand on your toes, and you both lean in… but of course, nothing would go as planned. His cowboy hat hits you right in the forehead.

You pull back from each other and both break out into a fit of giggles. Jake looks at you with a soft smile, tips his cowboy hat back, and leans in again. This time your lips meet in a delicate kiss, his lips are soft and you can smell a hint of cologne on him. Warmth fills your cheeks, the kiss lasting only a matter of seconds, but it's just enough time for everything around you to disappear. When the kiss is over, your foreheads meet and you both continue swaying under the reflected disco lighting. Maybe tonight is way better than you originally planned.

[rosewaterandivy]

Def think frat!steve would see someone at the house party reading a book and after an internal what the fuck, he’d approach to ask:

“So is that any good?”

You lay a finger underneath your current sentence before looking up to find some guy wearing a backwards baseball cap and holding a red solo cup in the midst of a rager, but somehow, he’s singularly focused on you.

“Anna Karenina?”

He nods taking a sip from his drink, as someone passes him with a hearty clap to his shoulder.

“Oh, it’s uh, well,” You stammer, trying and failing to distill 864 pages of Russian literature into a coherent sentence.

And somehow he’s still there, through the whoops and shouts of the fraternity’s name as well as his own— Harrington, if the shouts are to be believed.

“She takes a very sad train,” is what you settle on.

“And you like it?” He sets his drink to the side, crossing his arms over this chest as his eyes flit over your features. “This sad stuff?”

You shrug, dog earning the page and setting the book beside you.

“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow. Anything is better than lies and deceit!”

He raises his brows, confused and more than a little intrigued by your answer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name—”

He’s cut off by someone shoulder-checking him on their way down the stairs.

“We’re leaving,” She says, sniffling all the while.

Your expression falls taking in your friend’s demeanor— red eyes, raw nose and bitten lips.

“Right, of course,” You say, scrambling for your purse. You give him a pained look, at a loss while trailing after your friend.

In all the commotion, you leave your book behind. Steve grabs it and hustles out the door, hoping to catch you before it’s too late.

But once he’s reached the front yard, crowded with people and beer cans that crunch under his feet, you’re already gone.

Eddie’s idling on the stoop as Steve takes a seat, letting out a long sigh.

“Hooked on phonics, aren’t we big guy?” He drawls, with a nod to the book at his feet.

Steve shrugs and looks longingly out into the night.

Eddie, curious, picks up the book and opens the front cover, more than prepared to read aloud the first sentence in a dramatic fashion just to clown on Steve. He stops, taking in the scrawl of a name, and reads that out instead.

“Shit, no way,” Steve says, snatching the book back and reading the name for himself.

Eddie barks a laugh, “Figure it out, man. But you heard it here first,” He lays a hand on Steve’s shoulder and pushed himself up. “Any chick reading Tolstoy is definitely out of your league.”

Steve smirks up at him, thumbing through the pages and wondering if you’re in that literature class of his. “Wanna bet?”

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ An Endearing Infestation

Tw: none, silly fluff

It started with catching one of those tiny rascals in your house as you cleaned. No bigger than the size of your palm, a tiny blob of soot-like ink was accidentally caught amidst your vacuuming when you tidied up your house in your Serenitea Pot. You didn't even comprehend it resembled a small bird chick with one crimson eye since the small thing got frightened and scurried off underneath your couch. Any attempts to look for it were futile.

Another time, you were certain you caught two identical ones playing in the closet before sprinting with a hurried squeak when you stepped into the room. You started doubting your eyesight at first, before speculating the worst - some sort of an infestation in your pristine clean house. Yet your worries were settled aside when you finally managed to take a closer look at the many little birds that found residence within the crooks of your house. Fluffy in an unkempt manner, they were tiny birds that stared at you with their single crimson eye and a tiny crest on their round soot-colored bodies. You could almost chuckle at how silly these weird creatures were, but you couldn’t deny their cuteness. They were afraid you would kick them away, or even shoo them with a broom - but you’re not that heartless. 

The entourage of identical yet tiny blobs often observed you. They appeared curious about the many things you did in your Serenitea Pot. When you read in your study, they would play with the books. When you cooked food in your kitchen, some of the tiny birds would try and help you by pushing the spice rack closer or bringing more stems of herbs. And on late, cold nights, when you’d light up the fireplace in the guest room, even the timidest of the bunch would come out from their hiding spot to huddle neatly for warmth. They were easily spooked by the tiniest of movements, so you did not disturb their gentle napping when they fluffed up their pitch-black feathers and clustered close to you for heat. It was a charming sight.

Nevertheless, you are yet to discover where these little rascals came from. You never encountered them during your travels in Teyvat, that's for sure. However, something about those round eye orbs of theirs seemed familiar… There must be a source. And most importantly, why would these rascals broaden in quantity when a certain Fatui Doctor stays in your Serenitea Pot?

Your brain instantly conjured up a thought, like a detective reaching a moment of eureka when solving a mystery  - Dottore. 

With a grumble and a whine, you had to confront him. To no one's surprise, the Harbinger found solace in your Serenitea Pot, often spending time in your study or directly bothering you. It’s a habit of his, like a daily routine. Thus, you stormed upstairs to your library where he lingered, and saw him sitting casually by the desk. 

Dottore wasn’t reading. He wasn’t mulling over some papers or research. No, he was plainly sitting and peeking somewhere behind the table.

“Dottore,” - you declared his name firmly. “Whatcha got there?”

The man glances at you neutrally; no surprise or dismissive groans. Yep, this man is concealing something. He replies nonchalantly: “Nothing. Just my morning coffee, as you can clearly see. Perhaps you need a vision check, dear?”

You give him the look. A look of raised eyebrows and a glare that says ‘Oh really now?’. Dottore's mouth pressed into a thin line, silently holding the mug. He remained eerily still and silent as if you tested each other through nonverbal communication.

And yet neither of you broke the silence, but instead, a small birdttore peeked from the Doctor’s mug. Even when the little thing caught your scrutinizing gaze and tried to hide in the mug, its single-feathered crest was still visible from the mug.

“There isn’t even any coffee in your mug, Dottore!” - you huffed in an astounded manner, placing your hands on your hips. “Come on, spill it out. How many of those wee bird-things you’ve got hiding?”

“I literally have no idea what you’re rambling about. Don’t be outrageous.” - He replied in such an easy and dismissive manner; it would’ve been believable were it not for that impish smirk that tried to break free on his face.

“Dottore, there is one peeking in your mug and I can see another one hiding by the chair. Perhaps you’re the one who requires his vision checked, hm?”

With a deep sigh and a mocking tone, his shoulders loosened and he reluctantly put down his facade - “Fine, you’ve got me. Consider this as an astute observation on your part. Are you pleased?”

As Dottore sat up more comfortably by the desk, the abundance of teeny ink blobs came out from their hiding. So minuscule yet wobbly, they gleefully revealed themselves and started scurrying everywhere. On the desk, by the floor, in Dottore’s mug… some even happily climbed onto your leg as you stood there, baffled. Dottore just watched with that giddy grin of his.

“... Okay, so, what are these? And why are there more of them in my house? Please tell me this isn’t some sort of an experiment gone wrong and now you’re disposing of them in my home, like getting rid of an infestation.”

“Infestation? Do not be ridiculous. It is clearly the opposite! A small experiment gone right, and now it's serving its purpose.”

“And that purpose is… what?” - You raised an eyebrow. Dottore stood up and smiled cheekily:

“Having bits and pieces of me to accompany you while I’m away.”

He replied so confidently as if it was ludicrous of you to not realize it earlier. Yes, of course. Creating sentient little bird things so your significant other wouldn’t be bored. So obvious!

“...Is this some sort of ritual or experiment that I am not aware of?” - You clasped your hands and asked suspiciously. Some of the tiny blobs climbed onto your head. “Because if this is your way of ‘marking your territory’ then excuse me. I didn’t know that mad scientists exercise such a custom.”  

“Oh shut it. You’re not even mad that I sneaked in so many of them when I visited you. It was comically easy to slip them every other day in your manor. That means they are serving their purpose accordingly. Stealthily keeping you company.” - Il Dottore smiled triumphantly, standing right in front of you.

“Wha-? I can barely handle one Dottore, and now you make me handle many tiny pieces of you? Countless silly little birdttores to keep an eye on me? No way!”  

“Sure, sure,” - The Doctor scoffed and laughed at your attempt at teasing. His one arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you for a much-needed kiss on the cheek. His lips pressing tightly and lingering on your skin. “There, can your endearing face handle just a couple more kisses or must I humbly request for that smile of yours to return?”

You rolled your eyes at him but didn't rebuttal.

Hence, the evening was spent the usual way. Resting by the couch, the fire crackled in the fireplace. And while you and Dottore relished in the rare opportunity of leisure time, the tiny birdttores huddled once more by your lap or perched on Dottore’s shoulder. The Harbinger kept his arm around you, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. Although you couldn’t see through his mask, his stern expression kept an eye on the teeny rascals, as if warning them not to disturb you at home if they didn’t want to be exterminated on the spot.

Therefore, all was well... But Dottore had to think of ways to lock the bedroom in the future so those scoundrels wouldn’t bother you two in bed.

➻ First time posting a fic here. Please tell me how I did! And if you wish to see a casual day with Dottore and his birbttores - here is my art! 

[scarletqueenx]

Valentines Encounters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and on your way to a party you get stuck on an elevator with a stranger.

Word Count: 2393

Tags/Warnings: fluff and Dean being a flirt

A/N: first time writing a one shot so bear with me

After a rather messy breakup with your ex at the end of December, your best friend had insisted that you join her at this “little” Valentine's Day party that her co-workers were going to attend. After she let you spend the Holidays drinking your own tears and eating more ice cream than you could count while watching rom-coms, you knew you had to accept her invitation and show up. 

So after spending most of the day lying in your bed, you finally decided to get up and dress appropriately for the party. Red had always been a color that suited you well and brought out the color of your skin and eyes. But Valentine's Day was by far your least favorite holiday of the year.

You took a deep breath as you stepped into the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest. 

You knew there would be boys at the party, and the thought of meeting them made you uneasy. Your friend, whom you loved dearly but hated when she did these things, had made clear that her intention was for you to end up going home with one of them that night. The thought made your stomach churn.

That wasn't you. One-night stands had never really resonated with you. You were a relationship person.  

As the elevator began to descend, you caught sight of a man already standing in the corner. His head bowed over a phone, his face illuminated by its screen. He was undeniably handsome, in a rough-around-the-edges sort of way.

As your gaze lingered on his face, you couldn't help but notice the small details that gave him that roguish charm. His stubbled jawline, the slight furrow of his brow as he concentrated on the phone, and the dampness of his freshly washed hair.

His head suddenly lifted, as if sensing your stare, and you quickly looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed you watching.

Your cheeks burned, and the flush rose to your ears as you bit your lower lip chastising yourself for letting your curiosity get the better of you and ending up getting caught checking out a complete stranger.

In an effort to distract yourself, you turned your attention to the floor numbers that flashed right above the elevator door. 12… 11... 10...

At first Dean didn't even notice your presence, or the fact that the elevator had stopped on another floor of the building. Truth is, he was tired after a long day of work at Bobby's auto shop. He had originally planned to stay home, watch whatever was on TV and go to sleep. But after taking a shower and flipping through several channels, Dean realized that they were only showing chick flicks that day.

Valentine's Day was the stupidest holiday for him, something that set him apart from his brother Sam, who was especially excited about his date with his fiancée, Jess. Sam cherished Valentine's Day and loved to give his fiancée gifts and prepare the most romantic dinners possible. 

Frustrated by all the propaganda, Dean had finally decided to go down to a bar to try and distract himself and was now trying to get some of his friends, like Cas or Benny, to join him, but they all seemed too busy with their respective partners.

The silence in the cabin was almost deafening, the only sound was the soft hum of the elevator engine. You fidgeted nervously with your purse strap and glanced at the stranger out of the corner of your eye.

He was still engrossed in his phone, running his finger across the screen as he read intently. His concentration seemed unwavering, as if he was deliberately avoiding acknowledging your presence.

9... 8... 7...

The tension in the elevator seemed to thicken with each passing second, the silence between you and the stranger almost palpable. You felt a shiver run up your spine, unsure if it was the nerves of the party or the sudden chill in the air.

You should’ve grabbed a better jacket that covered you better.

The stranger finally looked up from his phone, stuffing it into his pocket as he ran a hand through his hair. His gaze darted around the small cabin before landing on you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed your nervous demeanor.

"You okay?" His deep voice broke the silence, a hint of curiosity in his tone. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest as he studied you.

The elevator jolted suddenly, the car coming to a halt between floors with a sharp jerk. The lights flickered and then went out completely, pitching the cabin into darkness.

The sudden darkness enveloped you, as he let out a curse under his breath that you barely managed to make out.

"Come on.” He grunted with irritation.

“Please tell me it's not what I think it is…” You asked in a nervous gasp.

He couldn't help but let out a chuckle as he soothed his own nerves in an attempt to reassure you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. But it looks like we're stuck.”

The realization that you were, quite literally, trapped with a stranger made you even more uneasy. Your hands rose to cover your face as you groaned.

“Oh, God. You've got to be kidding me. My friend is going to kill me.”

"Relax, sweetheart. It's not the end of the world." His voice was surprisingly gentle. You felt him move towards you, his fingers closing around your wrists, carefully tugging your hands away from your face.

The emergency lights lit up just above the elevator door, illuminating your faces. It was then, in spite of the red color of it, that you could make out the bright green color of his eyes and the freckles adorning his features like stars in a dark sky.

“Although I would let your boyfriend know that you won't make it on time for your date.” He said. "Could be a while before they get the power back on."

A frown adorned your face at his words. What the hell was he talking about? 

“Oh... No. I... A friend invited me to a party.” You stuttered nervously. “I don't... No boyfriend is waiting for me.” You finally managed to say as you realized what day you were living in and the clothes you were wearing. It was Valentine's Day, of course the stranger had assumed you were on your way to a date.

“Oh really? So… you’re all dressed up like this, and yet there’s no lucky guy waiting for you on Valentine’s Day? Damn… that’s a shame.”

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling a mix of flattery and embarrassment as he took in your outfit and the nervousness radiating off you.

"I... yeah.” You admitted sheepishly. “I don’t mind, though. Valentine’s Day is just another day. My friend just wants me to forget my ex.”

“Yeah. Totally with you on that. Valentine’s Day is just another day… just a bunch of overhyped, commercialized bullshit.” He released your wrists.

His touch lingered on your skin for a moment, and you found yourself missing the contact already.  

His words echoed your own thoughts, and you found yourself nodding in agreement.

"Exactly." You sighed, leaning back against the wall. "It's just a day for florists and chocolate companies to make a quick buck. I never really understood the hype."

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the confined space of the elevator. 

"You're not wrong.” He admitted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "It's just a Hallmark holiday, if you ask me."

He leaned back against the opposite wall, mirroring your pose. His gaze never wavered from your face as he continued to study you.

Your eyes met for a brief moment, and you found yourself unable to look away from his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you that was both captivating and unnerving at the same time.

"But I have to admit.” He continued, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You do look damn good in that outfit."

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks grow warm again. 

"Oh, um... thanks." You managed to stammer out, feeling slightly flustered. 

 “I’m Dean by the way.” He smiled.

Your breathing calmed slightly as you told him your name, smiling back at him.

"I have to ask.” He continued, his tone shifting to something more teasing. "Is that outfit for the party, or are you just trying to impress me?"

His words were playful, but you sensed a hint of seriousness behind them. Was he genuinely asking, or was he just flirting with you?

You couldn't be sure if he was serious or just having fun, but the thought of him being genuinely interested in you made you feel giddy. 

You shook your head, trying to keep a straight face. "Just for the party.” You replied, your voice betraying a hint of embarrassment.

The man chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. 

He shifted against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. 

"I have to say, sweetheart, you're making it really hard for me to focus on anything other than how cute you are all flushed and the way that dress hugs your curves."

Oh, he was definitely flirting with you and you had no idea on how to respond to that.

What did your best friend always said? ‘Act like you get compliments like that every day’. Yeah, great advice if it were true. You never got compliments, not even form your ex. God, he was such a douchebag.

"You're a smooth talker, aren't you?" You retorted, hoping it sounded flirtatious and not as if your heart was about to thump entirely right out of your chest.

His smirk widened at your response.

"Just being honest.” He shrugged. "I can't help it if you're easy to compliment."

Your cheeks flushed even more at his words, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves at the way he was looking at you. You had never had such shameless flirting directed your way before, and it was both thrilling and a little bit unnerving.

"I... uh..." You stuttered, tripping over your words as his gaze lingered on you.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. 

"I guess you don’t have a girlfriend either or you wouldn’t be flirting with me right now.” You don’t know were you got the boldness to say that, but there was no way back.

His eyebrows raised slightly at your words, as he was taken aback by your sudden boldness. 

“Sorry. I… I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just not use to this.” You quickly explain. 

You didn’t want the stranger you were literally stuck with to hate you or something like that.

“Use to what?” He frowned.

“You know. This.” You pointed to him and yourself a couple of times. His eyebrows raised once again as a smirk appeared on his lips. He was clearly enjoying your nervousness. “This whole flirting thing.”

“But you said you had a boyfriend, right?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“Yeah, I did. We just… never flirted, I guess.” 

“You don’t say.” He took a step closer, his eyes roaming over your face with a sly grin. "I find that hard to believe, sweetheart. A girl like you, all dressed up like this, and you've never had boys making fools of themselves to flirt with you?"

Your cheeks grew redder as he spoke, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I... well..." You stammered, unsure of how to respond. “I’m pretty sure my friend wanted this to be the first day.”

“Well, guess she got what she wanted.” He said playfully.

“Guess you’re right.” You smiled back at him, feeling a little more comfortable as seconds passed. Although, the tension between you and him only grew. “Thanks for saving me from having to go to that stupid Valentine’s party.”

Dean’s smile grew as his eyes softened while lingering on your face.

“Thank you for saving me from another lonely night at a bar.” He replied.

You chuckled at his words, realizing the humor in the situation.

"Ah, yes, because being stranded in an elevator is so much better.” You teased with a smirk.

He let out another chuckle as he leaned against the wall next to you.

"I think being stuck here with you definitely beats almost anything."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words, his gaze still fixed on you. It was as if the world outside the elevator faded away, leaving only the two of you in this confined space.

“Almost?” You raised your eyebrows playfully.

“Well, I don’t think it would beat a real date with you.” He responded as his gaze lowered to your lips.

He was so close, you could feel the heat radiating off his body and smell the subtle hint of his cologne. It was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking at the same time.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he spoke, his gaze lingering on your lips. Was he really about to ask you out? Right here, stuck in this elevator?

"A real date, huh?" You managed to respond, trying to keep your tone light and playful even as your insides felt like a mess of nerves.

He leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. 

"Yeah.” He murmured, his voice low and rough. "Dinner. A movie. What do you say?"

Your heart leapt into your throat at his question, your mind racing through a million different scenarios and possible responses. 

"I... um..." You stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He chuckled softly at your hesitation, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart.“ He teased, his tone softening a bit. "I promise I won't bite." He took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. "Unless, of course.” He murmured just inches from your lips. “You wanted me to."

You hummed a incoherent response as your eyes closed and his hand traveled to rest on your cheek.

His touch was soft and warm, it even send a shiver down your spine right before literal fireworks exploded inside you when his lips finally met yours in a gentle yet deep kiss. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t that bad after all.

want to be tagged? here you have my tag list

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

please let me know what you think 🫶🏼

reblogs are very much appreciated 😊

[bunnyb0ne]

Isolated Memory

A short story from the better days. Eng/Rus versions. Sorry for any mistakes, I am not a native speaker, feel free to suggest and correct me <3

Its name is Yarnaby.

It is a big toy with a colorful yarn mane, heavy clawed paws, charming round eyes, and a wide goofy smile. It’s much bigger than a dog, but not taller than a horse, at least that's what they tell—Yarnaby itself has never seen horses, only in pictures, and there they are no bigger than its paws. It lives in a large room with walls sewn from scraps of soft leather. It often tears them up, leaving large marks on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling; this way, it sharpens its claws. There is a large warm dog bed in the room, which has been worn out for a long time, but Yarnaby still sleeps on it. There are also lots of pillows, toys, a table that you can jump on and it won't break, chairs that you can't jump on, and to not be tempted by them, Yarnaby always pushes the chairs to the corner farthest from the dog bed, using his head and paws. Not far from a large iron door with a small window, there is a cage where Yarnaby can only climb in by crouching down. There are bowls of food and water. When it's time to eat, and it usually comes at the same time every day, the cage closes, the bowls disappear behind the wall and fill with food and water, then reappear, and the cage opens. This means that you can eat. Yarnaby eats meat; it especially likes to gnaw and smash bones, eggs with shells, vegetables, and berries. Sometimes there are pieces of sweet chocolate in a mix. Yarnaby licks the bowl clean, especially if there is some sweet syrup, yolk, or blood residue at the bottom.

His name is the Doctor.

He's the one behind the wall filling Yarnaby's bowls. He takes it out of the cell once a week to take it to a smaller room, where there is already a basin, colored bottles, and a towel on the floor, which the Doctor uses to wipe Yarnaby after washing. Before sitting in the water, Yarnaby always tastes it, then carefully jumps into the basin, trying not to wet the Doctor, although he, having learned from past experience, puts on an apron beforehand. He gently combs through the yarn fur with his hands and talks with Yarnaby, and even though many of the words remain incomprehensible, everything immediately becomes clear from the tone of Doctor’s voice. When the Doctor is kind, he talks softly, and often asks Yarnaby questions. "Who's a good boy?" is one of them, and Yarnaby doesn't know why the Doctor repeats it. He's probably checking to see if his stuffed animal has forgotten the answer. But Yarnaby remembers. It opens its toothy mouth and purrs in a long, hoarse voice: "...Ya-a-arnaby...". Then the Doctor smiles, and Yarnaby becomes even happier. When the Doctor is angry, he talks, but not to Yarnaby, but to someone who is not in the room - or maybe it is an invisible being, and the Doctor snaps, screams and hisses, pulls the yarn painfully and pushes, and Yarnaby always feels very guilty. Sometimes the Doctor comes to feed it personally. He throws pieces of meat and sweet and sour berries when Yarnaby does something right. The doctor likes to start with simple tasks: sit, down, stand, voice, fetch, roll, near. Then they become more difficult: divide the toys by color, get food out of a narrow glass, name the objects correctly, read the words, and count to a hundred. Sometimes they even go into the playroom, where there are many different boxes, grids, tunnels, and ropes, and Yarnaby climbs to the top, runs after a small squeaking toy, and then grabs it in its jaws and brings it to the Doctor, where he examines a chick, a bear cub, or a kitten and throws it back on the playground—this means that now Yarnaby can chase it down and eat it. The Doctor has his own room. When he's there, Yarnaby can be around, but it cannot run, jump, or make noise. Yarnaby tries to play quietly when the Doctor is working: he sits at his desk and writes something, writes a lot, and then writes not on a piece of paper but on a computer, calls, writes more, sighs, and turns away from his notes. When Yarnaby gets bored of playing, it sits in a corner and watches the Doctor closely. Even if the Doctor doesn't pay attention to it, Yarnaby likes just looking at him and knowing he's there. When the Doctor turns to it, Yarnaby begins to play a cheerful tune coming from somewhere inside its body, and the Doctor smiles. The Doctor is all that Yarnaby has. And Yarnaby is all the Doctor has. Yarnaby doesn't have anyone else to talk to, and the Doctor likes to talk with his pet. Yarnaby listens with great interest, trying to catch every word.

"Doctor..."

"What?"

"Ba...ball."

"Not now. I'm busy."

"Work?"

"Yes. Don't bother me."

"But...ball. Long time..."

"I said don't bother me, Quinn—"

The Doctor turns to Yarnaby, anger and... confusion in his eyes? The Doctor blinks and rubs his face with his palm. He is tired. "Quinn?"

The Doctor's lower jaw tightens. Yarnaby feels a pang of fear but decides to ask anyway.

"Who is this?"

When the Doctor hears the simple-minded question, he blinks again, but this time longer, and grins, shaking his head.

"Oh...nevermind. Ball?"

Yarnaby's pupils get even bigger, and it jumps up, bringing the slobbery ball to the Doctor's feet. They play and play, and the strange nickname disappears behind thoughts of how much the Doctor loves Yarnaby and how much Yarnaby loves him.

His name was Quinn. But only the Doctor remembers it.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Его зовут Ярнаби.

Он большая игрушка, с цветастой гривой из пряжи, тяжёлыми когтистыми лапами, очаровательными круглыми глазами и широкой забавной улыбкой на морде. Он гораздо больше собаки, но не выше лошади, по крайней мере, так ему говорят – сам Ярнаби никогда не видел лошадей, только на картинках, и там они все не больше одного его пальца. Он живёт в большой комнате со стенами, сшитыми из лоскутов мягкой кожи. Он часто рвёт их, оставляя большие следы на полу, стенах и даже потолке, так он точит свои когти. В комнате есть большая тёплая лежанка, давно потерявшая форму под весом Ярнаби, но никакого места уютнее он не знает. Ещё здесь много подушек, игрушек, стол, на который можно прыгать, и он не сломается, стулья, на которые прыгать нельзя, и чтобы в лишний раз не соблазняться, Ярнаби всегда отодвигает их в самый дальний от лежанки угол, толкая мордой и лапами. Недалеко от большой железной двери с маленьким окошком есть клетка, куда Ярнаби может забраться только пригнувшись: там стоят миски с едой и водой. Когда настаёт время есть, а оно обычно настаёт каждый день в одно и то же время, клетка закрывается, миски исчезают за стену и наполняются едой и водой, а потом появляются обратно, и клетка открывается. Это значит, что можно есть. Ярнаби ест мясо, особенно ему нравится грызть и крошить кости, яйца со скорлупой, овощи и ягоды. Бывают дни, когда его балуют, и прибавляют кусочки шоколада. Ярнаби вылизывает миску дочиста, особенно если на дне есть немного сладкого сиропа, остатки желтка или крови.

Его зовут Доктор.

Это он за стеной наполняет миски Ярнаби. Он выводит его из камеры раз в неделю, чтобы завести в комнату поменьше, где уже стоит таз, цветные бутылочки, где на полу лежит полотенце, которым Доктор обтирает Ярнаби после того, как моет, тщательно прочесывая руками всё, покрытое пряжей тело. Перед тем, как сесть в воду, Ярнаби всегда пробует её на вкус, потом осторожно запрыгивает в таз, стараясь не намочить Доктора, хотя тот, наученный горьким опытом, и так надевает фартук. Доктор что-то рассказывает ему, и, пусть многие слова остаются непонятными, но по тону голоса всё сразу становится ясно. Когда Доктор добрый, он разговаривает мягко, неспешно и часто спрашивает что-то Ярнаби. «Кто хороший мальчик?» - так звучит один из его вопросов, и Ярнаби не знает, зачем Доктор его повторяет. Наверное, проверяет, не забыл ли его плюшевый зверь ответ. Но Ярнаби помнит. Он раскрывает зубастую пасть и протяжно, хрипло урчит: «…Я-я-ярнаби…». Тогда Доктор радуется, и Ярнаби тоже становится ещё счастливее. Когда Доктор злится, он разговаривает, но не с Ярнаби, а кем-то, кого нет в комнате – или, может, это существо невидимое, и Доктор огрызается, кричит и шипит, больно дёргает за пряжу и толкается, и Ярнаби всегда чувствует себя очень виноватым.

Иногда Доктор приходит на кормёжку лично. Он бросает кусочки мяса и сладкие и кислые ягоды тогда, когда Ярнаби делает что-то правильно. Доктору нравится начинать с несложных заданий: сесть, лечь, встать, зарычать, принести мяч, перекатиться, идти рядом. Потом они становятся сложнее: разделить игрушки по цветам, достать еду из узкого стакана, правильно назвать предметы, прочесть слова и посчитать до ста. Иногда они даже уходят в игровую комнату, где много разных коробок, решёток, туннелей и верёвок, и Ярнаби забирается на самый верх, бегает за маленькой пищащей игрушкой, а потом хватает её челюстями и приносит Доктору, где он осматривает цыплёнка, медвежонка или котёнка и снова бросает на площадку – это значит, что теперь Ярнаби можно догнать его и съесть.

У Доктора есть и своя комната. Когда он там, то Ярнаби может побыть рядом, но нел��зя бегать, прыгать или шуметь. Ярнаби старается играть тихо, когда Доктор работает: сидит за столом и пишет что-то, очень много пишет, а потом пишет не на бумажке, а на компьютере, звонит, пишет ещё, вздыхает и отворачивается от своих записей. Когда Ярнаби наскучивает играть, он садится в угол и внимательно наблюдает за Доктором. Даже если Доктор не обращает на него внимания, Ярнаби нравится просто смотреть на него и знать, что он рядом. Когда Доктор поворачивается к нему, то Ярнаби играет весёлую мелодию, исходящую откуда-то изнутри его тела, и Доктор улыбается.

Доктор – всё, что есть у Ярнаби. И Ярнаби всё, что есть у Доктора. Больше Ярнаби разговаривать не с кем, а Доктор любит говорить. Ярнаби слушает с большим интересом, внимая каждому слову.

«Доктор…»

«Что?»

«Мя…мячик».

«Не сейчас. Я занят».

«Работа?»

«Да. Не мешай мне».

«Но…мячик давно не…»

«Я сказал не мешай мне, Квин-»

Доктор поворачивается к Ярнаби, в его глазах злость и…смущение? Доктор моргает и трёт ладонью лицо. Он устал.

«Квин?»

У Доктора напрягается нижняя челюсть. Ярнаби чувствует укол страха, но всё-таки решает спросить.

«Кто это?»

Когда Доктор слышит простодушный вопрос, он снова моргает, но теперь дольше, и усмехается, качая головой.

«О…неважно. Мячик?»

Зрачки Ярнаби становятся ещё больше, и он подскакивает, принося слюнявый мяч к ногам Доктора. Они играют и играют, и странное прозвище растворяется за мыслями о том, как же Доктор любит Ярнаби, и как же Ярнаби любит его.

Его звали Квин. Но об этом помнит только Доктор.

[nellielsss]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ

Summary: He's just so different from you! How could anyone have imagined you getting with someone like him? He's just so... brawny! Inspired by Check On It by Beyoncé. Note: Short little drabble w my favorite brawny boys! I figured it'd be best for something sweet after the previously dark fic... Also I might've characterized Yami wrong but I'm part of the "rough shell, soft heart" agenda!! Incl: Toji Fushiguro, Yami Sukehiro CW: Sexual intercourse, praising, light degrading, mentions of blood/violence

╰┈➤ Nobody could've ever imagined that you'd end up with a man like Toji Fushiguro of all people. For christ's sake--he was a mercenary for hire!! Not only that, but he was just so... brutish and brawny!

For starters, he was a good 6'2, and every single square inch of his body had muscle on it. His traps were wider than Victoria Lake, his abs could shred cheese, and his forearms were thicker than most men's biceps. He only ever wore a tight-fitted black shirt that had a new hole with every usage, and his grey sweatpants somehow remained tied up, even after all the times he's worn them (and forgotten to wash them... seriously, Toji?)

It wasn't just his appearance, either; it was also his personality that made him stick out like a sore thumb. The amount of times he's forgotten to say "please" after ordering a plate of takoyaki has to be recorded in the Guiness Book of World Records.

"Toji, you can't just keep bumping into guys with your tits!" you scolded the man, huffing after he knocked over yet another guy at a restaurant. He merely barked out a laugh at the mention of his "tits" and ruffled your hair.

"Ah, shit, I guess you're right doll-face. Hey, guy back there, sorry for bumping into ya!" he said from over his shoulder almost haphazardly. The guy merely grumbled curses under his breath and went on his way. "Guess he didn't want an apology," he said, turning his head back to you.

"Whatever, just don't make an enemy out of the other diners here. Seriously, what if they jumped you for the $5 you had?"

For someone who wore so much pink, you always had something to say (It should also be mentioned that you swore more than him, even though he was the one getting judged for it).

And then there was you, the chick on his arm: the epitome of bubblegum pink. You were the girl in those 2000s flicks who wore the Juicy Couture tracksuits; the one who had every single Tiffany bracelet/necklace/earring; the one who was first in line when the Louis Vuitton Murakami collection dropped. Your lip gloss was never not reflecting the sun and your hair was never not bouncing. Your charm lied deeper than the surface, though: it was the sassy charm that you had. Always so quick to call somebody a bitch but never slow to reapply your raspberry pink lipstick afterwards.

You were a dream girl, and he was a nightmare, so why did it work so well? Why did you look so good on his huge arms? Why did his face always soften softer than the softest memory foam pillows that money could buy? Why did he always hand you his credit card when you went out shopping with him?

It was quite simple: you were a light--the light in his dark. Where others saw a brutish monster who only knew how to kill, you saw a man worthy of love and appreciation. You knew that there was a soft, gooey inside, and you were probably the first one to reach it.

When he felt like giving up on everything and just disappearing, you were always the first one to touch his face with your manicured hands and calmly yet firmly encourage him to get up because it'd always be okay with you by his side.

So, naturally, he was the first one to cheer for him when he did get up and did what he came to do.

Everything about your relationship was as sweet as the flavor of lip gloss on your lips, and he always wanted seconds. Thirds, if he was turned away from people's prying eyes. Fourths, fifths, sixths--eh, he always lost count of the number of kisses he planted on your lips during your make-out sessions.

Speaking of...

There was nothing sweeter than when he had you on his big lap, ass nestled perfectly in the muscle of his thighs while you made out with him sloppily. He had a light pink blush on his face the entire time, and he was messily pressing his scarred, almost chapped lips to yours. You, likewise, were putting your glossy, delicious lips on his, letting the man do what he wanted to your mouth.

"Mmmmm... ah~"

"Yeah, princess?"

"Gimme more, Toji, more kisses!"

"What's the magic word?"

"P-Please, just... ruin my lip gloss, make me lose my mind, Toji--you're the only one who can make me lose my shit and make it feel so fucking good!"

"Now, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I denied my pretty girl what she wanted?"

With a deep chuckle and another laugh, he pulled you back in for more kisses, greedily devouring your plump lips and bruising them from the sheer intensity. You, likewise, put your hands under his shirt and started lifting it up. "Woah there, doll. Gettin' ahead of ourselves, are we? I like it."

Touching his body wasn't enough for your grubby hands, though; you wanted--needed more of your brawny boyfriend. Having his calloused, impossibly large palms on your body, pawing at the globes of your ass or the fat of your tits never ceased to make you a whiny, moaning little mess.

Speaking of the many things he enjoyed about you... another absolutely sweet thing about you was how you let the man do anything he wanted to your pretty body. He was already twice your size, meaning he could do absolutely anything to you. He could fuck you in mid-air and eat your ass if he wanted to, but there was something so tasty, so delectable about how you willingly gave yourself up for his pleasure. You let him toss you around like a ragdoll on his impossibly large cock, and you even begged him to do so numerous times.

Like when he'd moved the makeout sesh to the bedroom (and tossed off all those pesky clothes along the journey) and had you bent over on the bed. He was holding your hips up in the air, your deliciously juicy ass being pawed at and kneaded by your assassin boyfriend. His face was buried right in between the fat of your cheeks, his tongue lapping up at the delicacy that was your ass. If there was one thing he was, it was an ass-eater. He always made sure to make you cum at least four times on his tongue before he'd bury his cock inside, just to ensure that you didn't break on the damn thing.

"Oh... o-ooh, Toji, f-fuck~" you gasped, your perfectly manicured hands pawing at the sheets and holding onto them for dear life. "You always e-eat me out so fuckin' good, m-more, please!"

You bucked your hips in his face like an impatient, stubborn horse, one that needed things done her way. He spanked you and looked up at you over your cheeks, his mouth detaching from your already abused hole.

"Lemme enjoy my meal in peace first, you fuckin' whore," he growled, spanking at it again and burying his face right back inside.

The muscles of his biceps curled deliciously as he dove right back in, eating your ass even more voraciously. He was an instatiable beast, a brute who bent over his woman as he desired. Well, at least half the time; the other half, he could be quite caring and even needy if he got too into it.

Luckily for you (and your spine), he was seemingly content in a stable but enjoyable pace that worked out for the two of you. Any pace worked for him really--if it was fast, he could easily pound you to his liking, and if it was slow, then he got to savor every little feeling.

Right now, he was working your hips back and forth his cock. His leg was propped up and he had both of his huge hands digging into your hips, making sure that you weren't going anywhere.

"Fuuuck, that's it, baby, move that ass up and down daddy's cock," he rumbled, throwing his head back and groaning. "You just let me do anything I want, eh?"

"Mhm~" was all you could moan. You were barely processing what he was saying, his dick buried too deep to let you think straight. It was like his dick rearranged both your guts and your brain, which wasn't unlikely considering how long and thick it was.

"I bet you can't even hear me properly," he snickered, spanking you slightly to watch the fat jiggle. You let out a yelp, coming back to your senses temporarily and looking over your shoulder at him.

"S-So fucking mean," you panted heavily, your tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly.

He merely chuckled and dug his dick in as deep as he could, holding himself there so he could abuse your sweet spot and prolong it. "A-Ah~!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, you're just bullying me now!!"

"Maybe I am, but you're enjoying it, right?"

You stayed silent.

"That's what I fuckin' thought, princess. Goddamn, you're so spoiled by me. I buy you all your cute little things, give you all sorts of kisses, and I'm met with that smart mouth of yours."

Another spank and another press to the prostate.

"But I don't care about any of the shit you say, because at the end of the day? I'm gonna have you takin' this dick until your body gives up. And what makes it better is that you let me, (Y/N). You let me fuck you like you're nothin' more than a flesh light programmed to take my dick. I oughta do that to ya--rewire yer brain so all you know how to do is take. All. Of. My. Inches." he punctuated each word with a thrust, earning more incoherent babbles from your lips. "Aww, what was that? My lil' princess wants to talk? Talk, baby, let daddy hear it."

He gently but firmly grabbed your head, squeezing your jaw open with his hand and leaning in close. "W-Wanna take it day and night, d-daddy! I'll let you do anything you want t'me, just keep fucking me!" you said finally, earning a shit-eating grin from Toji.

"That's what I like to hear, baby. Now, d'ya mind if I speed it up a lil'? Deep strokes are nice and all, but I wanna satisfy this libido of mine as well."

He didn't wait for a response, already speeding up and fucking into you faster and harder. Soon, he was slamming into and bottoming out your already abused ass, the slap and fap of each thrust echoing throughout the room, along with your moans and whimpers. You buried your face in the pillows, the drool spilling from your lips as your big brute of a boyfriend manhandled you and fucked you to his liking.

"Yeahhhh, you're gonna take this big dick o'mine all night long. I don't care if it's 'too much' or 'too good;' you're gonna take it, and you're gonna fucking love it."

A few more thrusts, and he could feel his balls tightening up with each thrust. "Fuckin' hell, look at you, baby," he crooned, reaching down to grab your hair and make you look at the nearby mirror. "If only your friends could see you now: gettin' dicked down by the guy they told you to stay away from. All those little warnings they gave you 'bout me being bad news... I mean, some of 'em were kinda right, but they were wrong about me not knowing how to treat a lady, because look at you. I'm sluttin' you out to your heart's content for crying out loud!"

His words were only met by little whimpers and cute moans that escaped your bruised lips. He chuckled, and he could feel himself softening up by how vulnerable you were being. He reached out, cupping your cheek and releasing your hair. "Hey, look at me baby, look at your boyfriend. I wanna see your pretty face," he crooned softly, turning you over so he could look at you in all your fucked out glory. "You're amazing, taking all this meat like a champ. I'm gonna reward you with a nice, warm cream-pie, is that alright with ya? I'm gonna stuff you niiice and full of my cum until you can't even move, then I'll stuff you some more. I'll breed you 'til you can only rely on me to help you, but don't worry your pretty little head because I'm the man for the job."

All his ramblings were met by soft little whimpers and moans. He knew you were holding out, too embarrassed to speak your dirty truth to him. "Tsk, all bark n' no more left?" he reached down to play with you, jolting you back to reality. "There you go. Now, tell daddy what you want him to do."

"Wanna be stuffed, just like you said... Wanna be manhandled and stuffed 'til I'm oozing cum, and then I wanna be stuffed s'more--I want everything you're telling me about!"

"Oh, everything?" he asked with an amused sneer, slamming back in and making your body jolt and shudder. "It's gonna be a lot, (Y/N), but I know you can take it. You've always taken everything I've given ya, and for that I applaud you."

He stuck a thumb into your mouth and crooned, the sight making his dick harder somehow. "So fuckin' pretty," he murmured. "I got the prettiest little angel in all of Japan right underneath me, taking all my meat. Good god, I must be the luckiest bastard alive, eh?" His thumb exited your mouth and went back to your face, cupping it and squeezing it while he fucked you good.

Finally, you spoke up once more, panting heavily and looking up at him. "Toji... I love you, I love you so much- j-just keep fucking me, keep talking, I wanna forget all about everything else for a little while... Dumb me down, make me stop thinking for now."

He looked at you with understanding, but he happily obliged and ramped up the speed. "Whatever princess wants, princess gets. I've gotcha, baby, daddy's gotcha. Just sit back and lemme do what I do best, hmm?"

"Lemme stuff ya with my love, angel."

It was soft, tender moments during sex like these that made your relationship so wonderful. No matter how big of a brute he was, he'd always be there for you.

╰┈➤ The captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro, was many things. He was a damn good captain, an even better magic knight, and also one of the most feared and revered men in all the land. From the clover to the spade kingdom, everyone knew who he and his crew were. Whether they smiled to themselves or scrunched their noses in disgust, they at least had some knowledge of who he was or at least semblance of a misconception.

Nobody had ever imagined that Captain Yami was ever going to find love, much less true love. The man had some of the worst bowel problems that a man could've had, and who the fuck was ever gonna put up with his shit (literally)? Not only that, but he was just so unappetizing. One couldn't count the number of times he made death threats towards his own people.

"Disturb me while I'm shitting and I'll make sure your life goes to shit," was something he usually said to poor little Asta, or at least a variation of that sentence. The poor guy just wanted to know what the mission was for the day!

Suffice to say, he was quite undesirable. Sure, he had a rugged charm about him, but when does rugged just become prickly?

So when he got himself a girlfriend, everyone was both aghast and bewildered.

"I heard she just got out of prison after almost beating some poor guy to death during her magic exams!"

"Do you even think someone with her track record would've gotten an exam in the first place?"

"I wonder if she has any prison tats!"

"I heard that her favorite food is raw meat, fresh from the source; as in, she'll kill a cow and then start eating it right after!!"

"Who're we talking about?" you asked, your head angled to listen in on their conversation.

"Oh, just Captain Yami's new girl- wait, who are you?!"

"Hey, (Y/N), whaddya think you're doin' out here?!" Yami's voice boomed from the hallway. You and his Black Bulls turned in his direction, looking at the broad-shouldered captain as he made his way over to you all. "What did I tell you about sneakin' off when I'm not looking?"

"Sorry, Sweetie Pie," you giggled, putting your hands behind your back and looking up at him.

"Sweetie Pie?" They each took turns looking at each other. Asta's eyes were blown wide open with both fear and shock, Noelle was confused as to why a woman would get so close to Yami, and Vanessa looked quite intrigued by what she saw. "Is that his sister or something?-"

Yami pulled you in for a kiss and threw his arm around you, pressing your plump, juicy lips to his chapped, rougher ones. You giggled, putting your hands around his neck and standing on your tippy toes to reach him.

"WHAT THE HELL?!?"

Yami glared at them for breaking up your kiss but he let go of you, turning his attention to his subordinates. You also looked at them, all giggly with your lipstick smudged.

"I really didn't wanna do this, but (Y/N) here's left me with no choice. All of you, meet my girlfriend," he said with the slightest hint of a smile.

"GIRLFRIEND?!"

After that day, word quickly spread of Yami's new girlfriend, you, and how you were the antithesis of everything he was.

You with your pink pleated dress that held a petticoat underneath to make it even flouncier; your perfectly curled hair that held strawberry pink highlights; your long, manicured nails that always left marks on Yami's back after a long night spent in his nails. In reality, a woman like you should've been a Coral Peacock--or better yet, a Silver Eagle!

When asked why someone like you would join the Black Bulls, you simply said: "the other crews were too boring. Besides, they didn't have captains as hot as Yami!"

What you lacked in intimidation, you made up for in battle. Although many would've brushed off your "love magic" attribute simply for its name alone, when people actually got to witness it in battle, it was quite daunting. Couple that with your bloodthirsty attitude, and people could understand why you were a Black Bull.

What they couldn't understand was why you chose to date Yami.

You were cute, sweet to those around you (with a mischievous streak), and held a fondness for all things cute, as evident in your wardrobe choices.

You saved and kept stray cats in your room, even though Yami didn't like the way they pawed and kneaded at him with their claws; you liked going to the Capital just to eat all the sweet treats with your salary; you even scolded Yami's gambling habits; you were also motherly to the younger Black Bulls, even though you were barely the same age as they were. Asta always ran to you whenever he needed someone to protect him from the scary captain.

You and Yami together shouldn't have worked out together, but when the two of you were with each other, it just felt so... right! Your dynamic together and the little scolds that you sent Yami's way were just perfect. The way he could instantly melt into a puddle of adoration and love whenever he saw you should've been studied in a lab.

Given his towering stature and the size difference, he had a fondness for scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

"Put me down, put me down!" you exclaimed, hitting his muscled back out of annoyance. "I'm still showing Asta my tea collection!!"

"You can show him those leaves later; it's time to give your boyfriend some attention."

Through thick and thin, the two of you were there for one another.

You learned how to stitch up wounds and even took up healing magic just for Yami's sake (as well as the others--Yami just liked to be selfish with you). "This is the last time I let you go out gambling in those shitty ass bars. Can't you at least go to a nice one with people who don't take bigger dumps than you?" You were currently chiding him, stitching up a wound that he got after a poker night escalated into an impromptu mission.

"It's more fun, babe. Besides, it builds character. I oughta take you out with me one day, show off my pretty princess- ow!" he exclaimed, feeling the needle prick him a bit harder than before.

"Take me out to one of those and I'll kill you and the patrons there."

"I don't doubt for a second that you could do all of that," he chuckled, shaking his head at the notion of dating a sweet but psycho girl.

While he had his sweet moments with you, he could also have his rough moments. Like how he had you underneath him with your legs over his shoulders and his cock drilling inside of you.

"Thought shit was sweet, eh, doll face? Thought you could tease me in front of all my subordinates and make me lose my mind?" he asked you mid-stroke, each aggressive snarl punctuated by his cock hitting your prostate. Each time he reached it with the head of his cock, your eyes widened and you threw your head back in pleasure, only to have him grab your chin and make you look at him. "Look at me, doll. Look at me while I fuck your brains out."

"Y-Yes, sir," you whimpered, your lip quivering as he ruined your insides. He scoffed, chuckling to himself, shaking his head at how easily he could make you lose your mind.

"Fuckin' love the way you call me sir; at least a slut like you knows her place."

He readjusted the angle, drilling even deeper into your gaping, abused hole, his heavy balls slapping against your ass deliciously. "Is this what you wanted? To make your man go wild and fuck your brains out?"

You couldn't say anything, biting your lip and trying to suppress all those sweet little moans of yours.

"Nah, don't hide that shit from me, baby, lemme hear you scream for your man." He stuck his fingers into your mouth, prying it open and making you moan like your life depended on it.

"Fuuuck, Yami, fuck me!!" You managed to gargle out, the fingers in your mouth making your words slur together.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Lemme hear the way you love taking this cock--because you do, you do love taking it. You take it every. Single. Night. I bet it turns you on, getting your brains fucked out and your guts rearranged by your captain. Lemme tell you, baby: it feels amazing fuckin' this ass every single night. Makes me feel like the Wizard King himself with the way you milk my cock for all its worth," he said with a laugh, reaching down and slapping your ass again.

You, on the other hand, were too fucked out of your mind with the way he bullied your poor little hole. You were drunk off his cock, your head bobbing back and forth, moans escaping your lips as he destroyed your insides. He chuckled to himself, knowing that he'd broken you just with his cock.

"Little slut can't keep her mind in one piece, even after beggin' her boyfriend to fuck her? Hah, should've known you were all bark and no fucking bite."

If you had any decency or sanity left, you would've kept the noise down in case anyone heard Yami drilling you into his bed--but you didn't; you never had a shred of self respect left after he got you into his bed. He'd make you suck his cock until your jaw couldn't handle it anymore; bend you every which way until he was done; make your ass redder than a tomato.

Right now, he was far from tapping out--he still had at least 30 other positions to put his whore of a girlfriend in! Starting with the full nelson. You wondered why he bought a full length mirror and put it in front of the bed, but you quickly got to understand why when he angled you just right so he could see every little thing happening to you.

He put your back up against his chest and abs, hooked his arms underneath your legs and started right back up again. "Hah, look at the way you're bouncin' on my cock, baby," he crooned into your ear (knowing full well you were knocked out mentally). "Just look at those tits, baby. I'm gonna suck on 'em after I'm done making you bounce on this dick." He thrusted up and down, up and down, his thick cock making squelching sounds with each bottom-out. He watched your cute little cock bounce around, the little thing getting dwarfed by his own size.

"I love putting you in this position, baby. Lets me see my pretty angel in her full glory," he murmured, his words considerably less harsh than before. You merely moaned and laid your head back on his shoulder, mewling as your boyfriend did you in.

"Y'like it when I'm gentler, baby? Well, gentle for my standards," he asked you, continuing to bounce you on his cock.

"Mhm~" you moaned softly, biting your lip.

"Yeah, I know you do," he chuckled, giving your neck a quick kiss and lick before looking back at the mirror. "Y'know I don't mean any of the shit I say, right? You're no whore; you're my sweet little angel who can do no wrong."

"Mhm~"

"Ah, shit, I might've done you in a little too hard," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't help myself when it comes to you, gorgeous. You make me feel all sorts'a things, make me lose my cool."

"I d-do?"

"Of course you do, baby. You're just too pretty for your own good... you're the only weak spot in my armor--my one and only Achilles heel. You make me lose my cool, and pathetically so," he repeated once more, pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he did so.

"H-Hah, you bet your sorry ass I do," you giggled softly, smiling to yourself and mewling once more.

He simply shook his head and held you tighter, whispering little "I love you"s into your ear all while holding your legs up so he could keep making his baby feel good.

Suddenly, he felt your hole tightening up around his cock, and it made him more alert as to what was going on. "Sir- 'm gonna, 'm gonna cum soon," you said through mewls, your thighs quivering and shaking as he thrusted up into you.

"Yeah? Go ahead, baby--make a mess all over Yami's cock." You did as he told, spurting cum all over your perfect body and tits, and he quickly shot his load right into you afterwards. "Shit, shit, shit- fuuuck, that's right, sweets; take all my cum. It's all for you, so make sure you don't waste a single drop," he panted, holding you down firmly so he could empty his balls inside of you.

Even after emptying a whole load into your gaping hole, his cock was still hard and ready. "H-How are you still hard?" you asked as he repositioned you onto your back.

"I told ya already: it's that effect you've got on me. Besides, I've been single for a while until you came along, so I've got a lot of pent-up frustration and cum to give ya." He gave you a cheeky grin, spreading your cheeks apart and reinserting himself into your stuffed hole. Some of the cum spilled out with his deep thrusts, and you were back to the moaning mess that he wanted you to be.

"Just like that, take your boyfriend's cock, baby," he murmured, reaching down to plant a kiss on your lips. He moved to your sensitive tits, his tongue swirling around your nipple and taking it into his mouth. You let out another gorgeous mewl, throwing your head back out of pleasure.

"I can't- I can't take anymore, Yami," you whimpered, feeling overstimulated with everything that was happening to you.

"Of course you can, baby. You're a big girl; you're stronger than you look after all," he reassured you, surprisingly soft and sweet for his usual demeanor. Once he felt you relax around his cock, he sighed, planting even more kisses on your body. "Just like I knew you could... god, baby, you're so good to me, so fucking good. One of these days, I'm gonna wife you up n' parade you around on my arm, make all those other captains jealous of me, heh. Yeah, you'll make the perfect wife to me. I'll give you this dick every night, and you'll give me all of that sweet, sweet love of yours, hm? Sounds like a fair trade to me. Mrs. Yami Sukehiro... yeah, sounds about right."

You simply nodded, his cock hitting your prostate repeatedly, each hit turning your brain into mush. He looked down at you with nothing but love in his eyes, allowing himself to be soft for a little while.

"Just keep moanin', baby, your captain's got you."

The next day, the other Black Bulls avoided looking at both you and Yami, their cheeks too flushed from the noises you made last night. Yami could see it on their faces, so he shot everyone a wink and threw an arm around your shoulder.

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/12/2024

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

What the Jackass Cast Would Get You for Christmas!

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader, Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, boudoir photo shoots, drug paraphernalia, lingerie, lube

An: Thank you for sending in all your requests! I hope you’re having a fun holiday season :)

Bam

“Oh shit…” Bam checked his calendar and realized it was one week until Christmas.

He also realized he had nothing to give you (only after April asked him what he was getting for you).

Hightailing it over to King of Prussia mall, he started perusing stores you mentioned you liked,

Which quickly turned into him going to stores he liked.

After spending two hours at the record store, Hot Topic, and Spencer’s buying himself gifts, Bam got an idea for something he knew you’d love!

“Oh! It’s…” Unwrapping the ornately framed picture while your boyfriend sat watching your expression eagerly, a bemused smile spread across your face, “It’s you!”

It was him; half naked on a fur rug, in some gothic midevily, faux-Playgirl shoot. I mean, it was hot, but still…

Admiring his own boudoir shots, he grinned,

“Yeah! See, y’can put it on your nightstand, and when you’re feelin’ a little frisky at night…”

Turning it over in your hands, two slips of paper tucked in the back fluttered down to your lap

“And…H.I.M concert tickets?”

As predictably Bam this was, you still couldn’t bade off your smile of amusement at his self centeredness.

I mean, you liked his gifts, don’t get me wrong- but your boyfriend liked them a while lot more!

You would’ve thought it was him receiving that gift with his he animatedly described it: “Yeah! They’re only, like- the best band ever!” He laughed before leaning to coo in your ear,

“You have such a good boyfriend…”

Ryan

“Can’y pick me up somethin’ for my girl while you’re there?” He stopped his sister as she was halfway out the door on the way to the mall.

Frankly, he didn’t know what women like to receive as gifts, so who better to ask than an actual woman?

“Does she like perfume? Or-“ Ryan gestured to nothing in particular, “I dunno, what about that jewelry stuff?”

Deadpanning, she replied, “You gave me two hundred bucks.” “C’mon, be cool! I’m sure you can find something. Oh, and get it gift wrapped. I owe you big time!”

Of course, said sister had no clue what you wanted- she’d never met you!

On Christmas morning, he was just as surprised as you to see that little Pandora bracelet charm. “It’s nice! You like it?” He tried to play it cool,

“It’s from the jewelry store!” Like you couldnt tell…

Turning over the little sparkly heart charm, you smiled to yourself, “Yeah, I love it!“

He told you some cheesy line about you taking his heart wherever you went before you gently added,

“Ryan. I don’t have a charm bracelet…”

Panicking a moment, he thought quick,

“Oh! Well, now I know what I’m getting you for your birthday!”

Steve-O

“Goddamn it…!” Steve was kicking himself- he was supposed to go to your house tonight! Unlike the other guys, it wasn’t that he forgot-

He just couldn’t afford the kinda fancy gifts he knew you deserved.

So, he went about tearing apart his shithole apartment to find something, anything you would maybe like.

Lifting up pizza boxes, throwing open every cabinet and drawer, he scoured that place top to bottom,

“Yeah- that’s it! Chicks love that stuff! Oh- and I’ll give her that too! Now, how m’i gonna wrap this shit…”

When he showed up at your doorstep, he thought he was being all slick handing over that plain, brown grocery store bag all fast

“A candle!” You rubbed the particles that clung to the wax between your fingers, “It’s dusty…”

“Ah, that’s vanilla! Totally normal…”

Steve panicked a little inside. Chicks like candles, right? And- and flowers?

Sure, he didn’t get you flowers, but he called it a vase. The thing was was obviously a bong with little glass flowers running up the sides. You didn’t smoke.

“And I bought you a vase!” Your boyfriend tried to explain, gesturing to the object as it sat in your hands, “See- it’s gotta special spout to refill the water.”

He quickly added, “And- I’m gonna get you flowers to put in that vase! You love it, right?”

Puckering up, Steve leaned in close for a kiss, but you just laughed and shook your head-

You knew he was broke! By extension, you didn’t expect a whole lot in terms of gifts, but the effort was endearing…

“Alright, Romeo…”

Chris

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir?” The attendant at the third lingerie store he visited half-flirted, eyeing Chris as he inspected a lacy, white set

“Yeah- do you have this in an extra large? And what about these shoes in a fourteen?”

The bonus adult novelties he gave you along with your gift did bring an entertained, kinda confused smile to your face, “Flavored lube?”

Chris winked, looking over your shoulder, “Yeah, hope you like watermelon…”

But quickly after, your boyfriend was nudging you off towards the bathroom,

“Hurry, go put yours on! This present isn’t over yet…”

Yours? Not questioning, you just shook your head and went along with it

When you returned, you quickly figured out what he meant as Chris grasped the thighs of his track pants and, with a flourish, tore them off!

“Check it out! His and Her’s sets!”

Doubling over, it took you five minutes to catch your breath because every time you righted yourself, there was your boyfriend, standing in your living room in ladies lingerie and heels.

And totally pulling it off.

Interrupting his mental debate over weather or not he should do a ‘well, one of us has to change!’ joke, you slung an arm around him for stability and uttered between gasps,

“God- this is why I love you…”

Johnny

“Alright- keep your eyes closed!” Johnny’s excited smirk was infectious as ever as he dashed off into the other room, leaving you to wait in anticipation

But once he placed whatever it was he was giving you in your lap, you could’ve sworn you felt some brush agaisnt your face.

No, lick.

“Aah!!” Opening your eyes, you squealed, “Oh my god- oh my god!”

Let’s be honest, who wouldn’t react like that to being given a puppy? So yeah, you cried, but only a little, okay?

Suddenly, in the middle of all this excitement, a flash of something else crossed your face as you realized, “Johnny. My apartment doesn’t allow dogs…”

But in a moment of quick wittedness, he came up with a a solution,

“Well, I’ll just keep ‘im at my house! You’ll have have t’spend more time there with me- oh, and the puppy…”

Truth be told, Johnny really wanted the dog. He also liked having more excuses to invite you over- think of it as taking your relationship to another level!

Giggling, your threw your arms around Johnny, “Ahh!! You’re the best boyfriend ever!”

Ruffling your hair, your boyfriend smiled, “Its just a puppy!” Yeah, just a puppy…

“Now, what’re you gonna name the little guy?”

[ghostbustting]

Hiiii can you write something about being a guitar tech for james and you two get really close but then Jason gets quite jealous andddd.... (Smut with a bit of angst and some fluff maybe ☺️)

Guess who just got their first request? 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

╰┈➤“𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲„ ๋࣭⭑

Jason Newsted x Reader

Contains Smut.

My eyes were fixated onto the guitar in my hands that will be used by Metallica’s James Hetfield in a few hours from now for their concert. My fingers trail across the black ESP MX220, searching for any flaw or scratches.

I pick on the new string I had put on his guitar as an exchange of the one he broke last time on a practice.

Getting a job as Hetfield’s guitar tech was honestly better than I expected. Unlike the stage team, I don’t need to walk back and forth and back and forth, carrying heavy properties in my arms.

Instead, I just have to make sure his instrument wont be messed up for the performance. Cause if it was.. let’s say I won’t be here backstage right now.

Suddenly, someone placed two hands on my shoulders, making my heart dropped and flinch to the point I almost dropped the guitar, immediately hugging it tightly.

Laughter fill my ears as I turn around and find a laughing James Hetfield in front of me. “Why so stiff? You’re not the one performing, are you sweets?” He chuckle and sit down next to me.

I quickly check the guitar once again, “Geez, James.. I almost dropped the guitar!” I huff in relief when I find no damage. He snicker and took a sip of the beer he’s holding. There’s seriously not a day I see him without a beer. “Yea yea, sorry.” He say.

The nice thing about working for James is that he was never really as cocky or bossy as how I heard some rock stars are. He’s actually a real charmer and entertainment.

As I start to tune the guitar carefully, I can still feel James’ presence next to me, hearing his breathing and drinking. Then, he spoke up again, something “Hey, did you cut your hair?”

I turn to him, my eyebrows raised out of confusion. “Uh.. yeah? Like a few inches or so to even the ends..” I answer slowly, “How did you even notice?” I chuckle.

He chuckle as well and run a hand through his long blond hair, “Ah you know, observation master.” He arrogantly say as he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Lookin’ pretty, y’know?”

Flattered by his compliment, I look down and laugh softly, shaking my head.

At that moment, what I had not realized was the blue eyes from the other side of the room that are glaring at both me and James and the close proximity between us.

I was completely oblivious to how Jason was playing his bass while his eyes are narrowed and technically sending daggers at the back of our heads, his fingers basically gripping the instrument like his life depends on it.

“So..” James starts again, earning a hum from me while I’m still focused on tuning the electric guitar in my hands. I did notice the way he moved the slightest bit closer to me, “You got a plan after the concert?” He ask with a grin.

Feeling a bit taken aback by his sudden question, this time I look up at him before slowly answering, my voice slow with a hint of curiosity. “No.. why?” I raise an eyebrow. I’m quite positive almost everyone knew how much charm Hetfield holds and how many chicks he had wrapped around his fingers. On stage and.. in bed.

He look down and chuckle to himself before looking back up at me, “I’m just wondering if I can take you out for some dinner later?”

My eyes widens and I think about it for a while before answering.. “Huh.. sure.” I respond with a shrug and a small smile, earning a wider one from James.

“Shit!”

Our heads turns to the other side of the room, only to find Jason having one of his strings broken. I cringe to myself at the frustrated grimace he had on his face, glancing up at me a little before quickly returning his gaze to his bass as a roadie took it. He looked.. tense. Something in that glance he gave me odds me out..

I stood by the other roadies as we watch the band perform from the sides of the stage. I cross my arms, leaning against a wall. My eyes are fixated on James, cautious if his guitar starts going cuckoo, making sure I did all the set up for his guitar correctly.

At the same time, I can’t help but start nodding to the beat of the music, enjoying the live performance that’s right in front of my eyes in person.

But then, my sight of James was blocked when Jason starts playing next to him, his eyes clearly focused on me as he play his bass, headbanging. I raise an eyebrow as he manage to keep eye contact with me, my heartbeat starting to accelerate as he seem to not care if anyone else notice the- technically, eye-fucking he’s doing to me.

What is with him tonight?

Despite the sound being taken over by the two guitarists, I can tell Jason was playing his bass more intensely than usual. Scanning my eyes over his fingers, I can see the way he play the instrument much more passionately.

My eyes glance up again at his eyes, only to find him looking at me slightly smugly now, definitely noticing the way I eye his fingers. Fuck.

After that, I return my gaze towards the other band members and try to avoid Jason’s never ending gaze that lingers on and on.

Even when I’m not looking, I can feel how intense his eyes are. It’s burning a hole right through me. It’s causing a feeling of nervous to take over my sense.

The concert was getting closer to the end. The more I feel Jason’s eyes linger on me, the longer it feels like this show is going. I tap my shoe on the floor impatiently. I don’t even know why I’m getting so nervous.. I just.. His eyes..

“I’m going to the restroom.” I blurted out to the roadie next to me and tip toe my way out of the spot my shoes have practically been planted on since the concert started.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I make my way past everyone and through the backstage area till my eyes finally found peace at the sign that shows the sentence: “Women’s Restroom”.

I sigh in relief as I place my hand on the handle and open the door, entering in. I close the door behind me and approach the sinks and rest my hands on both sides of it, looking at the reflection of my face on their slightly rusty mirror.

My eyes widens when I see how red my cheeks are. I slowly bring my fingertips up to my cheek, finding out how warm they are. What the hell happened to me?

Before I could process things any longer, the door busted open and when I turn to look towards it, I was met by the one and only Jason Newsted, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it as he storm up to me.

My heart beats louder and faster when he place his hand on mine, forcing them to stay on the sides of the sink.

“Jason—”

“What the fuck were you thinking, accepting James’ date?”

How similar his voice now and the voice he use onstage scares me, his hot breath fanning against my neck, making my breath hitch and my chest starts heaving up an down. “It—”

Before I can finish my sentence, he cut me off. “Did I tell you to speak?” He ask right against my ear as one of his hand clasped onto my mouth, shutting me up. I shake my head in response, trying to stay quiet for him.

He chuckle dryly and holds my wrists behind my back with his other hand, staring into my eyes through the reflection of us in the mirror. “Goddamn slut. Fucked me through the whole tour.. screamed my name almost every night.. kept what we have in the dark.. then you decided to flirt and go on a date with my bandmate instead.” He whisper.

Every letter that leave his lips seems to meet my chest directly, causing it to keep pounding only louder and louder. His eye contact on the mirror is strong, almost as if it’s directly. One thing I’ve learned from our times together.. Jason’s gaze is sharper than any razor. It never failed to have my heart pop out of my chest. And the only one that can pop it right back in is him.

“And now.. now you’re gonna pay.”

Before I can process his words, his hands moved to my hips and he spun me around, almost immediately connecting his lips onto mine.

I gasp into his mouth before slowly giving in and kissing back, my eyes fluttering close while my hands start to trail up to hold his cheeks, only for my hands to be slapped away.

He scoff and pin my hands onto the sides of the sink again, “Think a slut like you deserve to touch me? Keep. your. hands. there.” He demanded me, grinning just a bit at how aroused yet restricted I feel.

Then, my skin was blessed by the feeling of his lips back on me, this time on my neck. His kisses were mean and sloppy, biting a mark onto my skin every now and then. I yearn to touch that hair of his, run my fingers through it, pull on it.. but I know better than to disobey him.

Small whines leave my lips as he pull my shirt up and let it stay at the top of my chest, then he unbutton my pants and pull them down, the fabric pooling around my feet. He lean back to take in the sight for a second. “..There’s no way I’m letting Hetfield see you like this.” He mutter and shook his head before grabbing my hips and spun me around yet again.

I hold onto the sides of the sink, feeling like it’s the only thing I can depend on to balance my weak knees as he pushed my back and force me to bend over the sink. I feel his hand rub my back up and down.. slowly going into my hair and yanking it down so my head look up, my eyes meeting my own in the mirror.

“Keep your eyes there for me, baby.”

I didn’t even realize his own pants and boxers have left his skin, leaving his length to be revealed, hard as a rock with precum dripping on the tip. Oh how I crave to taste him. But for tonight, I know I have to play by his game and his only.

A shaky breath leave my lips as he pull my panties to the side, feeling the tip of his cock just lightly pressed against my swollen cunt, already wet.

The moment he actually pushed into me with a groan.. my pupils struggles to stay fixated on the sight in the mirror as a small whimper escapes me when he start slowly pumping into me, stretching me out.

The way his length will always stretch me out like a fresh cunt every time we do this still scratches a part of my brain, the way he always make me feel like a new woman every time he enters me, no matter how many nights we’ve done it during this whole tour.

His hands on my hips, fingers gripping tightly that it’s no doubt that it’ll leave a mark. I gasp as he starts to play mean again, thrusting faster and faster as the second goes on.

I can hear him groan and moaning behind me, a noise I would never get bored of, a type of melody I’d savor till the end of the world, a type of rhythm I’d surely find myself touching myself to once this tour ends.

Moans leave my own lips, unable to keep how good it feels to myself. My eyes starts to roll to the back of my head.. when I feel a harsh slap to my ass and another hand yanking my hair, earning a wince from me. “Eyes.” He demanded, this time his voice delivered it rather calmly.

Another thing that’ll keep me up all night is the way his voice will stay so calm and chill despite how mean he’s treating me. It made me acknowledge how good I made him feel, he’s surely not one to hide it as through our sexes he’d make statements like; “So good..”, “You make me lose my mind..”, “I love the way you feel”, and I’m not one to complain. Why would I?

We paused our movements when suddenly.. we hear a knock on the restroom door along with a voice calling my name. James Hetfield’s voice, to be specific.

“You in there? Hello?”

I feel a pang of fear and guilty of having to ditch him for Jason. I wonder if he’ll realize I am indeed here, yet stuffed with his bassist’s cock buried deep in my stomach.

“Answer him.” Jason’s words caught my off guard, I shift my head a little to look at Jason with wide eyes like he’s crazy. He actually looked dead serious, which made me gulp and shake my head, pleading him silently not to.

But then, he grabbed onto me and bring me to the door, his length staying inside me the whole time as he pin me against the wall this time, bringing his lips to my ear. “Answer. him.”

With a shaky voice, I slowly speak up. “Y-yes, James?”

“Oh! What are you doing there? Ready to go?”

“I..” I look over at Jason as he slowly hold my hips again slowly starts his thrusting again, creating a knot in my stomach as the tension is way too high for me to stay steady. “I- I don’t feel too good, J-James.. I’m sorry—” I quickly cut myself off with my hand as a moan almost slipped out.

I can hear the disappointment and concern in James’ voice as he spoke again, “Want me to come in?”

”NO! I- I mean— no, sorry, please I—” I struggle with my words as the feeling of releasing comes close to me, before I can utter another letter out, James spoke up again.

“I understand, see you tomorrow.” The disappointment in his voice guilts me out, but I’m way too distracted by Jason’s passionate thrusts as they get even faster again once James walk away from the door.

I let out a shaky breath as I hold onto the door, “Please.. ‘M close..” I whimper and try to grind back against him.

He groan and wrap an arm around my stomach, pulling my back against his chest, “Let go with me, baby. You can do it..” His voice was muffled against my neck as his hips’ movement starts to falter and he burry his face in my hair.

With one last thrust of his length, Jason and I release together, dirty noises coming out of us together as we can only hope no one from outside hears it. I can feel the sensation of our mixed cum oozing out of my pussy, his cock still buried in me as we try to steady ourselves.

My legs feels shaky as Jason holds me close in order to balance me, “You okay?” He mumble against my shoulder, pressing light feather-like kisses onto it.

Another thing I love. How soft he is after sex.

I hold onto his arm that’s still around my stomach and nod a little, huffing as I lean against him for support. “I- I’ll manage..” I spoke softly with a short nod, whimpering when he slip his cock out of me.

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve just let you have your date.”

I slowly turn around and hold onto his shoulder for balance instead, “Why- why do you care so much anyways..? I mean.. we’re.. we’re just fucking, right..?” My voice stays soft and gentle as I look into his blue eyes, finding it hard to tell what emotion or thought is planted in those eyes.

He sigh and shake his head, “I can’t control my feelings. I just can’t.” He mumbled as he wrap his arms around me and hug me close, his face hidden in my neck, I can feel his lips giving those soft kisses again, this time on top of the marks he had previously given. “I want you. Bad.”

I look down at him as I realize what he meant, slowly wrapping my own arms around him, “Jason..” I whisper. Meanwhile, the boy stays silent and stay hidden in my neck.

Might this be the start of something new?

[brotherwtf]

It'll be so much better if Gale was an older like mid-late 30s. He's a successful businessman but he's struggling with his personal life. He's married to Marge and probably in the closet or he probably doesn't even understand himself that he can be attracted to men also. And John is fresh new hire, very confident and charming and very much aware of his sexuality.

I believe this is in reference to this post and ANON I TOTALLY AGREE

Gale very much having his quarter life crisis because he's not happy at all right now, he's in an unhappy marriage with a monotonous job and he's so closeted it's physically painful, the very thought of a man being attractive sends him reeling and he can barely have sex with Marge because his brain wishes that he were Marge?? getting fucked??? and he literally can't deal with that poor guy will combust

so he drowns himself in work so he doesn't have to deal with his home life, spends as much time at the office as he can because he can't deal with Marge's melancholy face whenever Gale comes home from work and so that's basically his life now

insert John, transfer that corporate sent in to work alongside Gale as a sort of project manager and Gale's life gets fucking turned on its head because John is one hell of a man and Gale's probably gonna crash out because of him

but John's just such a sexual person, tight clothes and sleezy smiles, pornographic mustache and stupid big muscles, he's so easy with words and easier with touch and whenever he claps his hand on Gale's shoulder or his thigh Gale's having a homosexual crisis because this isn't normal, he shouldn't be feeling this way about a man, and especially not like John

God maybe Johns talking about some guy he hooked up with and Gale finally works up the courage to ask him how he knew, how did he know he liked men? and John just smiles that stupid smile and says something "oh you just know, baby" and the air raid sirens are going off in Gale's brain right now as he tries to keep his boner in check

maybe they start spending more time together outside of work and Gale's starting to get a life again, going out with John and watching him work his magic, going to dinners and baseball games and everything because John complains that Gale's so boring all of the time and he just needs to let loose and Gale feels safe to let loose around John

they're at dinner when Gale finally asks like "hey what's it like to kiss a man? is it different?" and Johns like "oh it's like nothing else, feels hotter and more raw than kissing a chick" and the tension can be chopped with an axe while John's eye-fucking Gale and then he finally just leans across and closes the gap, a hand on the back of Gale's head to press him closer

and you wouldn't believe the fucking choirs of angels that sung when they finally kissed bcs Gale just felt right, whatever didn't feel right with Marge felt right with John and now he's letting him take the lead and Gale loves it, loves not having to think or perform like he's so used to doing

anyway John taking Gale under his gay wing is top tier prompt thank you anon

[toovaeloe]

errands and no game 𝝑𝝔 “Wooooaaahhh!! Oookay, he did not mean to say that.”

fluffy fluff drabble

genderneutral!reader x Satoru Gojo

Gojo and Megumi annoying big brother and annoyed little brother activities

Satoru visits the Fushiguro kiddos, and helps Megumi run an errand for his sister. Gojo however gets distracted by a gorgeous you— although charming you into giving him your number doesn’t exactly go as planned with Megumi around.

☁️🤍☁️

Question: 21 is supposed to be one of your best years, isn’t it? So why was Satoru spending it working, working, working, and oh, walking this stinker to and from the store??

Answer: Megumi wanted to do something nice for his sister, aka the chore of grocery shopping. And Satoru had oh-so graciously volunteered to check in on those kids every once and awhile…(mostly to get out of missions.)

“Hey Megumi, Megumi, let’s get ice cream!” Satoru chirped exuberantly as they walked by the parlor, the 8 year old’s grip on his pant leg the only thing stringing him along the sidewalk and keeping him from stopping in for a frozen treat. “C’moonnn you’re in, like, 3rd grade! 3rd graders love ice cream!!!”

“Tsumiki’s waiting for me. We have to get back.” Megumi dismissed- far too dutifully for a child as he tugged on the white haired oaf’s trousers near his knee, a plastic grocery bag clutched in his other tiny hand. “And I don’t wanna get a treat without her.”

“Awwwwwww,” Satoru whined with melodramatic crankiness, his shoulders dropping and hands shoving into his pockets with a huff as he continued to trudge along, practically curved into the posture of a dissatisfied shrimp. “You’re the most boring, levelheaded kid ever. Seriously, I should hire a babysitter to cart you around…or maybe a prison warden since you’re so ruthless and cruel,” Satoru muttered sulkily.

The little Megumi echoed his huff, irritation creasing his brows. He felt like the one carting Gojo around if anything. “I said I could go by myself. You’re the one who was whining about going with me.”

Just as Gojo was about to give his grand explanation of why he couldn’t let an 8 year old roam the streets by himself, something, or rather someone caught his eye. You.

Within seconds, Satoru was rerouting Megumi with a yank under his armpit towards you. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to chat with a beautiful stranger- lay on the charm, woo you with his otherworldly beauty, etcetera etcetera. And to top it all off, he had Megumi with him. Dudes and Chicks dig kids, right? Makes him seem like a down to earth, kind hearted guy.

“Yeah, he’s like a little brother to me. ‘Just taking him out to shop for his sister. Me and the little guy are like this,” Satoru explained to you after stopping you before you could cross the street, speaking as if he was the most charitable philanthropist on earth, crossing his fingers in a show of supposedly how close he and Megumi were. Megumi however, looked at Gojo with the kind of grouchy, wrinkly frown only a child- or perhaps a sphynx cat- could muster.

He had the sole goal of getting home to complete this kind deed he’s done for his sister and see the cheerful smile she would have at his show of appreciation for her. And he wasn’t about to have that be delayed by Gojo’s pathetic attempt at scoring a date.

“Your eyes look weird on your face.”

Megumi pointed straight at you as he bluntly stated his critique. “Seriously, it looks like a 4 year old drew you-“

“Wooooaaahhh!! Oookay,” Satoru quickly covered the cynical kid’s mouth with a nervous chuckle, waving off his words. “Silly little bugger,” He playfully scolded in an attempt to salvage the interaction.

Satoru whipped his head over to Megumi as he moved his hand away from covering his mouth and to his hair, ruffling it into an even worse ebony mess as the boy warded off the giant palm with indignant swats. He was speaking to you, but his words were meant as a reprimand for the mini Fushiguro.“He did not mean to say that,” He’d grit through his teeth with a denotative glare.

“What he probably meant to tell you is how radiant your eyes are- I could stare into them forever, at least,” Gojo recuperated his charm quickly, flashing you an easily dazzling grin that he hoped would get you to at least crack a tiny smile.

“No, they creep me out. In fact, you should wear sunglasses to cover them- like this freak does.” The young tween continued his merciless and unsolicited attack on you with a gesture now to Gojo, before he strolled off with far too much nonchalance for an ankle biter. “I’m going home. Losers.”

You’re too stunned to speak. This is probably the last interaction you’ve expected to have on your way to the store.

“…kids say the darndest things, don’t they?” Gojo hums with an absentminded grin now that the entire run-in has fallen completely flat. “Such creative young minds.”

“Don't go forgetting me, alright? I’ll see you around!!!” He’d shout over his shoulder, a halfhearted promise before sprinting off after the little tike. You can hear the fading sobbing of the guy complaining about the failure, as well attempting to assert his “grown-up status” to the child that ambled on like he had mentally tuned-out his chaser.

What a weird family, you’d probably think to yourself, left to ponder this odd encounter later as you sorted through the produce section.

a/n:

omg I posted writing for my tumblr againn 😛 Gojo adopts the Geto walk in the drabble uhhhh because I said so

Jokes aside I would absolutely cry if I received a creative insult from a child 😔

based off this request on a diff platform that I thought would do better as a minific 🤍

Have a wonderful day/night

[echantedtoon]

Let's Summon An Oni! Part 2 Mine

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Koyoharu Gotouge for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.

Warnings for yandere themes, someone gets wounded real bad by slashes. )

Taglist: @lavenderdrxp

The next morning arrived but you could find no ring.

Your friends had helped you clean up the mess off your floor come morning and you all practically tore apart your room trying to find your great grandfather's engagement ring while your great grandmother's was ...around your ring finger? You could've sworn that you had left it in the jewelry box last night but woke up the next morning with it on your right hand...You must've put it on your finger last night and remembered wrong during your worry and sleep deprivation. However despite moving the bed and shuffling around everything enough to rearrange your entire house five times- There was no signs of any stupid rings.

"Don't worry about it, Y/n," one of your friends had assured you with a pat on the back. "It'll turn up when you least expect it. Things always do."

Maybe she had a point. Things did seem to turn up when you least expect them but that didn't mean you weren't upset with it! And your room still smelt like a hundred bath bombs went off in it. It annoyed you to know end but there was little you could do about it. After all there was the fact that you had to go work and attend the nearby college classes so you pushed your troubles to the back of your mind and tried to focus on the project in front of you at the moment. Papers shuffled in your hands and a nervous smile on your face.

"Ok. So I'll write the essay part, you make the 3D model, and then we'll both present it Friday?"

The man next to you nodded and hummed in approval. "Seems good to me. "

"R-Right..*ahem*." You nervously pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "Ah anyways..Are you busy tomorrow?"

He rose a brow at you from the sofa. "Yeah actually. Why?"

"I was thinking maybe w-we could see a movie? Or maybe coffee-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" His hands were held up all of a sudden. "Look. You're very nice but I don't roll like that."

You blinked. "Huh? Like what?"

"I'm not a cheater!"

"Oh! Y-You have a girlfriend?"

"Uh- No. But I'm going to be putting up with any drama from your boyfriend." 

His hand pointed right at your neck or more specifically your necklace and when you looked- You froze. Your great grandfather's ring was out again but this time it was slung around the necklace you wore every day along with the cute little charm your necklace usually had. Your mouth dropped open looking at it then at him..a hand reached out to rub over your necklace, more specifically the ring again. 

"I-..I D-don't know where this ca-came from?!"

"Yeah right!" He abruptly stood up making the sofa move with his movements. "Do I look stupid to you? I'm not about to become a chick's side piece because you think I'm cute, and if your boyfriend has any sense he'd dump you too. Don't talk to me again unless it's about the project!"

He turned and started stomping towards the door. Papers fluttered to the floor as you stood up and held out your hands towards him. 

"W-Wait! I really don't know how this got there!'

He didn't listen. You winced as the door slammed behind his retreating form shaking the foundation of your home ... Before you looked back to the ring on your necklace again. It was your great grandfather's ring alright. Complete with a diamond in the middle. But how did it end up on your necklace? You threw it back into the jewelry box three days ago and you didn't put it on your necklace. The only logical answer you could think of is that you must've put it there but forgotten about it (even though you KNEW that you didn't) or it must've gotten entangled on the necklace inside the jewelry box and you didn't notice when you put it on the necklace. You never noticed the reflection of a man in the mirror watching your lab partner leave or how he also left the reflection after him.

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

The quietness of the study was unbroken as the man silently studied along the table. The silence was only filled by the ticking of the clock behind him and the crackling of the fire in the fireplace that filled the study with warmth. The light danced across the shadows and lit up the place in the dark. It was a rather cozy room with many shelves of books, comfy chairs, and the table with a giant map sprawled upon it. Yes. His father would be pleased with the surveillance work he made of the new farmland he purchased. They should be able to divide it enough for the blueprints for the many houses. Renting the houses out to people would certainly bring plenty of money he could use to help pay off his student loans. A yawn escaped from his throat as hands reached up to remove the glasses before a hand ran over his face. It was getting late. A hard day's work deserved a good rest. The man stood leaving the comfort of his warm study before walking away to exit into a hallway. It wasn't too hard to find his bed inside his bedroom. With a small action of placing his glasses on a nearby table, his body curled up inside the bed cozy and warm.

But not safe.

Shadows moved. Elongated alongside the wall. Red eyes narrowed. An arm extended itself out.

" Looking so peaceful in slumber. Not a care in the world...I wonder what hellish escapades you'll have within a world of nightmares." 

The elongated form of claws reached out from the hand extending out towards the slumbering form. 

"A fitting vengeance for an intruding obstacle. Let's make you fear ever speaking with a certain person ever again. You'll learn not to disrespect my once even in your thoughts nce I'm done with you."

A fingertip pressed against the soft skin of the man's forehead. Manic rising as the brows furrowed more and more. And soon his mouth opened up as eyes shrunk at a shadowed figure. And a scream shrieked out.

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

"Did you hear about Sabo?"

The clanking and clacking of lockers shut around you before you looked up at your friend who looked concerned at you. 

"Huh? What was that?"

Her brow rose annoyed and a hand placed itself on her hip. "Didn't you hear a word I said?"

"S-Sorry. I've been... distracted by work lately."

That was an understatement. You kept waking up with the ring on your body in one way or another. Two days ago you decided that you were overacting about the ring after your lab partner left you stranded and to ensure that you didn't lose another ring, you put a combination lock on the jewelry box after you chucked the ring back in. Now you couldn't misplace it again. However you were exhausted when you went to work and accidentally fell asleep at the cash register only to be startled awake by a customer shaking your shoulders. You rang him up as usual feeling a bit out of it, however you nearly had a mental break down when you once again found a golden band on your finger.

You practically tore the lock off fiddling with the numbers and dumping the entire thing out, and finding no ring inside. You KNOW you put it back! You KNOW that you locked it up right! You KNOW that only YOU know the combination! And you KNOW that it was still locked when you came back!! So how the hell did it get out of the box and on your ring at work?!

There was only one explanation.

You were being haunted! Your great grandparents must be angry at you for losing the other ring! You didn't believe in anything supernatural at all but this was the only thing you could think of that made even remotely sense. You knew you weren't crazy so what else could it be? However you hadn't told anyone yet. Then they'd think you were REALLY crazy! The stress was getting you to space out in front of your gym locker and made your friend groan.

"I can see that. Did you hear about Sabo at all?"

You shook your head. "Not sense three days ago. He didn't answer any of my texts and the project was due TODAY and only the essay was ready! I had to stay up all last night and finish it!"

You had to quickly slap together a 3D model online as accurately as you could and just present the entire thing yourself because he didn't even bother showing up to class! You just hoped it was just good enough for a C or B. 

"I don't know what he thinks he's doing ghosting me like!"

"Probably because he walked himself into the hospital."

You paused before looking at her. "What?!"

"Some kind of wild animal broke into his house a couple nights ago and really tore into him. They had to take him to the hospital and they haven't found what did it get. At least that's what I heard. "

"Oh my God. Is he ok?"

"Dunno. I'm only telling you what I heard and from what I did, he was barely alive when they found him the next morning."

That was terrible! But also why you never slept with the windows open. You felt bad about Sabo but hopefully you can get the both of you a decent grade for the project. 

However you didn't know the bigger problem awaiting at home just for you.

You were so worried about the ring and tired from not getting any sleep last night that you didn't even consider anything else was wrong. You stopped by the grocery store on the way home and just barely was able to balance three paper bags in your arms and unlock the door. Pushing it in and then closing it behind you. Tired eyes just passing by the living room and crossing into the kitchen.

You passed by a man sitting on your comfortable fluffy rug and reading a book from your shelf. Clink- A small teacup clinked as he gently took a sip before he gently placed it back down and started reading the next page as if the woman didn't walk past him. 

"Good evening, Dear."

"Hi." Your tired brain automatically responded without a thought as you placed the bags on the table.

"What are you cooking for dinner?"

"Tonkatsu and rice." Again you responded automatically just tiredly reaching into bags and setting things up on the table.

"Ah. A simple but delicious dish. I haven't had that since a man left it on my shrine fifty years ago for an offering."

"Uh huh."

You passed by the doorway towards the stove with a package of uncooked rice. Step. Step. Ste-....Tired eyes suddenly blinked open wide nearly bugging out of her skull...Feet slowly turned around and walked back towards the doorway. Step. Step. Step. Half her body leaned back out of the doorway...Thud. A bag of rice fell from her hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud seeing the figure of a VERY tall man sitting on the floor of her living room in a meditative state, one hand holding a murder mystery novel as the other gently lifted the teacup back to his face which was mostly obscured by long burgundy bangs. 

You stared staring like one of those comically large eyed cartoon characters. 

A long sip was calmly given before he spoke again. "You dropped the rice."

"W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" You were wide awake now. Panic setting in from the sudden realization that there was a STRANGER IN YOUR HOUSE!! "H-HOW DID YOU GET INTO M-MY HOUSE?! DID YOU BREAK IN!?"

"Spouses share an abode. Cease your loud voice. It's unbecoming."

"Wha- L-LOOK! I-I don't know w-w-who you think you are-" Your hand fumbled badly for the phone in your pocket. "-b-b-b-but you better leave O-Or I'm calling the police!!" You made a threatening gesture by holding up your phone in a badly shaking hand. 

"Even if you do, they will not see me unless I want them to. Now put down that ridiculous object." 

"I'm warning you! I-I will!"

"Really? With what?"

"With my-"

You froze. Eyes going small as ashes fell from your hand that was holding a phone just two seconds ago, and instead a new shiny ring was again snugly sat on your finger. You jaw fell open.

"That's better. You'd better stop taking it off. It's tiring to keep putting it back."

You started breathing heavier head turning back to him. Fear slammed into your vertebrate like a railroad spike being hammered into the ground. "W-Who..are you?"

"Every human asks me that but I don't see why you shouldn't know who I am, considering that you were the one that summoned me and proposed."

"P-P-Proposed?!" The book closed with a sound and his hand tilted towards you. It was then that you saw the dazzling gleam of a shiny golden band on his finger. You knew what it was instantly. "My great grandfather's ring." Your eyes then narrowed again as you pointed. "THAT'S MINE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH IT, THIEF!?"

"Thief? Hardly. It was presented to me when you proposed fourteen days ago." He slowly stood from where he sat and you suddenly realized how small you were compared to him. "You asked me to become your husband and I accepted your offer. Was that not your intention when you summoned me that night?"

"Summoned? What do you-..."

You fell silent as his head turned. Burgundy hair framed a face as six pairs of eyes stared down at you. Lungs heave. Panic swam. Senses heightened as you rushed to turn around only to scream out as the face was now standing in the kitchen inches away from your trembling form. A clawed fist clamping itself around your forearm like a hot iron ensnaring you frozen to the spot. The silence carried on as you both still stared as your face horrified, and then a clawed hand held up a shiny golden band around his ring finger. 

"I accepted and now we are bound in matrimony, My Little Wife."

"W-Who are you?!"

"I go by many names. Your people still revere me as Moon God, while others of the past called me Demon. You may call me by my true name. Michikatsu." Those beautiful eyes widened even more, especially when a hand reached out to tilt her chin back up to him, the feeling of his claws making her shiver under his careful grasp. "Or as Husband. I have decided that I accept this coupling."

Your hyperventilating lungs breathed- GASPED for air. Lips. Trembled. Body shook. Tears welding up. "I-I.. Can't accept."

"I'm afraid you have no choice but to honor those vows because now-" The Ring burnt again your flesh like a clamp, death sentence for your new fate. "..Not even death will do us part."