#finally poking my extremely full ask box

[bleaksqueak]

do you think about the pomegranate gore incident much bc i still follow you from that situation 10 years ago

I think about it literally every time I go to prepare a pom... honestly I don't know any way I could ever see one again and not think of that whole fiasco for even just a moment lol

[plussizedreader]

Heat Wave (Bo Sinclair X Reader)

When a extreme heat wave comes through Ambrose and the AC broken, Bo gets an idea to cool each other off.

(If this seems familiar, It's because I am rewriting a Bo piece I wrote a few years ago that I posted on my main account! I hope you all enjoy, please please let me know what you think!)

Warnings- Suggestive themes, no actual smut, but if you like this I will absolutely make a part two!

The day had actually been rather normal in Ambrose, quiet and lifeless, and extremely hot. Vincent was hard at work with another figure, which left you and Bo to yourselves, sweating your asses off. A fan blew full force in your shared room, though, it did very little against the Louisiana heat. While normally the house and most of the town would be nice and cool, the AC system had suddenly busted, at the peak of the heat wave. While Lester was in the tunnels, working on getting the air blowing, it left the rest of you hot, sweaty, and miserable. Now, you found yourself in bed, laying next to Bo, your head resting on his chest, your hair up in a ponytail, and an arm around Bo, the both of you motionless, save for the small shifting to try to get comfortable.

“God, how are the museum and figures handling this heat?” You grumbled, looking up at Bo, who only shrugged.

“I don’t know, ask Vinny, he has all that figured out.” He replied, running a hand through his sweat soaked hair, before he started to sit up, gently shoving you off of him, and sat up, glaring daggers at the shitty box fan that was sat up on a stand, blowing at full blast.

“Is that damn thing even blown’?” Bo groaned, sweat dripping down his face, and down his nose.

“You know it’s workin’ as hard as it can, that thing can only do so much!” You sat up as well, looking at Bo, who was now messing with the fan, more likely to break it than to actually fix it.

After a moment of poking around at the fan, and Bo smacking it a few times in frustration, the damned thing gave a final sputter and stopped spinning. You both groaned, Bo standing up, cursing up a storm. You both sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do now, before Bo stomped over to the wooden nightstand next to your shared bed and snatched his truck keys up.

“Get up. We gonna get out of this house.” He grunted, grabbing one of his many hats and shoving it onto his head before he stalked towards the doorway, and turning back to look at you expectantly. Taking a moment to stretch, you stood up, and followed him.

“I won’t argue with that, but where are we goin’?” You asked, following Bo out of the room and down the stairs, and eventually out of the house.

“Swimmin’. There’s a pond not too far out of town, and it’ll cool us down.” He said as ya’ll reached his truck, simply nodding in response.You pulled the door open and climbed in, slamming the door shut as he also climbed into the truck. The truck rumbled to life as you rolled your own window down as he drove off, the rushing air giving some relief to the two of you, as well as the truck ac blowing at full blast. The drive was rather short, and soon the two of you were sitting in front of the pond, the sun’s light reflecting off the pond’s surface. Without a word, Bo turned off the truck and got out of the truck, and immediately pulled his shirt off, revealing his toned body. You exited the truck next watching as he shed the shorts he wore, his bare ass out, before he waddled into the water. You stood there, amused as he turned to look back at you.

“Skinny dipping? Was this just an elaborate plan to get me naked?” You asked, still amused, as you crossed your arms over your large chest. He shrugged innocently, a shit eating grin on his face as he stood in the water.

“Not at first, but it’s a hell of a bonus while we cool off, ain’t it?” You smiled, and shook your head before you decided to join him. You stripped off your tank top and shorts, leaving yourself bare as you too walked into the water, swimming out to meet him. Taking a moment, you took a deep breath, and quickly, you dunked your head under the water, emerging and exhaling. You looked at Bo, smiling again.

“Damn good idea, I’d say.” You said after a moment of simply floating there in the water, enjoying the cool water that surrounded you. He looked at you with a lopsided grin, and shrugged. He swam closer to you, before he wrapped his arms around your waist underwater, squeezing the soft and voluminous flesh.

“Hm, ya’ know I tend to have those from time to time.” He said, before he leaned in and kissed your neck, nipping and sucking at it, as you sighed, allowing your head to roll to the side slightly. Bo never let up, moving downwards to your chest, his hands below the water continued to knead and squeeze the soft and ample body that he was just obsessed with.

“B-Bo… Bo if we keep going here we’ll end up drowning..” You gasped out after a moment, grabbing Bo’s hand to stall one of his hands, which was now resting high on your inner thigh, inching closer to your core. He groaned into your chest, but stopped.

“I hate when you’re right.” He removed his hands and lips from your body, and instead, before you had much time to react, his hands swept you up, and started carrying you out of the water, a startled cry that morphed into laughing as he brought you onto shore. Instead of dropping you, he continued to carry you back to the truck, and gently set you back inside. He quickly picked up your discarded clothes as you watched him, confused.

“Are we leaving? The bed of the truck is just fine with me!” Bo shook his head, pulling shorts back on, and tossed your clothes to you.

“And let it burn you? Nope, I ain’t gonna let that happen.” He shook, returning to the truck, and slamming his door shut. You wanted to roll your eyes but couldn’t.

“I hate it when you’re right.” You grumbled, before you shrugged back on your tank top, which now stuck to your wet skin. You went to pull your shorts back on but Bo stopped you, before he waved you over to him as he started the truck. You slid closer to him, up against his side. He started the truck, and pulled away from the pond. It was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of the AC, and the radio playing quietly.

“You gonna let me put my shorts back on?” You asked after a moment, watching Bo shake his head no.

“Oh no sweetheart, I plan to have a lot of fun with you, can’t have those getting in the way..”

[echoedcrosshairs]

Foxglove ~ Commander Fox x F reader

According the language of flowers Foxglove symbolizes riddles, conundrums and secrets along with ambition and creativity.

Summary: A small fancy caff shops pops up in the senate building. Commander Fox is not amused.

Slow burn, enemies? to lovers, Commander Fox x reader, Commander Thorn x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, Smut, implied smut, cannon violence and talks of cannon related violence.

Part two

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k

You fell had fallen asleep at your desk stretching out the design for the caff shop until one of the senators poked you back into consciousness. Embarrassing a paper clung to your face as you sat up, however the peeling sound was extremely satisfying.

"Thank you, Senator Chuchi," you said laying the paper back down on your desk. You noticed her observing eyes looking at the papers and partial recipes, "I was thinking to see about opening a Coffee shop a few level down so the troopers could get some," you admitted anxiously trying to tuck the papers away.

"I think it is brilliant, do you mind?" she asked pointing on the proposal paper.

You blinked stunned, "Be my guest," you said handing it to her, "I think it would benefit everyone's late nights."

"Give me a couple days, I'll see what I can do," she smiled taking the paper reading over it as she walked off.

It didn't take long for an answer. After work you had started cleaning up your desk for the next rotation when you noticed the red shock trooper approaching with a rather large looking envelope. He handed it to you and waited for the response. Your fingers ripped the seam of it open, the senate had thought it was a very good investment. You screamed giddily and through your arms around the trooper hearing a disgruntled groan come from him before coughing and stepping back, "My apologies, the senate building is getting a coffee shop on the lower levels for the troops and senators."

"Good evening, Ma'am. I will let Senator Chuchi know the delivery was successful."

The moment the trooper was out of sight you did a little happy dance. You turned your attention back to the small packet and reread it, excited that you could begin work immediately. You practically danced your way down to the designated level and room, fiddling with the controls you finally got the door to open to the near empty expanse except for a few stray box's.

"The senate building is closed to the public, I must ask you to leave," a voice called behind you.

You turned finding him waiting a kama and a visored helmet, "Commander! I work upstairs in filing, I am currently inspecting this location for a new shop."

"You must be mistaken with this is the Commander offices." You handed the commander the filing paperwork, "Great just wanted I needed distractions," he mumbled handing you the paper back.

"Given this is mostly for the stationed troopers, I thought it would be nice," you said curtly.

"Last thing I need is baby sitting duty to keep my brothers in line," he grumbled, "Good evening," Fox said turning in his heel heading back towards him office grumbling to himself about professional courtesy.

How rude? You did your best to shrug off the comment but it kept eating at you. I'll just start ordering supplies after a full nights rest. You walked past the offices noticing the Commander from earlier but another lounging in his office who gave you a small wave. At least some of the soldiers will appreciate it. You got onto the bus to head home finding the trooper who waved was standing there, he flagged you over. Keeping your hand on the rails you made your way finding the section marked 'clones' your stomach fell to the floor, the discrimination of the clones was a touchy subject but one that made you want to kick and scream.

"I just wanted to say thank you for the opening the Caf shop, no idea how you pulled it off but the boys are excited."

"The other commander seemed less then thrilled," you tried to hide the scowl on your face.

"Fox? He's rougher than durasteel around the edges. Name's Thorn by the way."

You awkwardly stuck out your free hand and said your name, "Nice to meet you," he took your arm and shook it back. His hesitation to you suggested he wasn't use to people to greeting him back, "So why are you on this bus? Don't you guys have personal speeders?" you asked noticing the lack of other shock trooper colors.

"I'm going to 79's, remember citizen don't drink and fly," he chuckled at his own joke.

"79's... Oh the clone bar?" You had never been there but overheard several troopers talking about fun nights out.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Are non clones allowed it?" You asked arching an eyebrow.

"Nat borns? Also yes, never been?"

"No, might check it out. Might give me ideas."

"You should if you're free sometimes."

"I'll go home and change, sounds like fun."

"Oh, do you want an escort?"

"I'd love that," Thorn walked with you back to your small apartment waiting outside while you get changed, "You're neighbors love to stare."

"Oh yeah... their probably wondering why work followed me home, if I'm in any sort of trouble so I should be expecting a text..." your comm beeped, "Speaking of which," you laughed. You answered the messages as quickly as possible while following Thorn back onto the train.

"That's good you have friends that care about you," he offered once you were done telling anyone that your coffee shop project got approved.

"Everyone deserves a friend, got many?"

"Thousands," he chuckled, "Just warning you might want to stick close to me or my brothers are going to hit on you something fierce."

"It can't be that-"

"Yes, yes it can be. Especially if the 501st is there," he genuinely laughed, "offer still stands, also since we'll be sitting at the commander's officer, if there's a guy in grey armor that's Wolffe. He's a major flirt don't mind him."

"Thanks for the heads up."

Both of you kept up the small talk as you reach 79's. You took it the bar, semi low lit, loud music towards the dance floor, a few luxury female droids, a distinct beer smell, and tons of troopers with a handful or too 'nat borns' wandering around. For some reason the place made you grin, happy soldiers enjoying some down time from the war given a place to feel... normal and accepted. Thorn guided you to the back table furtherest away from the music, you heard the small groan when he saw both Wolffe and Fox

"The bane of my existence," Fox grumbled.

"Don't mind him, he's grumpy because I dragged him out of his office... literally," Wolffe smirked, "Take off your helmet, breath, and drink, vod."

Thorn took off his helmet first, setting it on the table in front of him. His hair was a dark shade of red but in the regular solider cut with a miniature tattoo spelling 'Hammer' across his eyebrow. He stared down Fox until he caved and took his off. You stared at him for a moment to long looking at his short shaved sides and medium top combed comb making him squint at you for a moment before flagging the service droid for drinks. Unlike his brothers Fox’s eyes were almost true to his namesake, perfect golden sunrise kissed irises with his tanned complexion making them almost seem to glow even in the faded light.

"Need a drink with how much work I won't be able to get done," he scowled.

"It's not like I had a choice on where the location would be," you countered, "Wear earplugs."

Wolffe smirked watching Fox's anger flared up, "The lady has a point."

"Yes," Fox gridded out, "You know the 'cafe' is going to cause distractions which means lack of productivity and efficiency."

"Are you really complaining over decent caf? You live on that poor excuse of black sludge excuse for coffee," Thorn nipped at him which just got an eye roll.

"Do you really not trust your men to behave professionally and be respectful and timely? Isn't the Coruscant guard suppose to be the best of the best?" you poked getting a deadpan stare from Wolffe at the audacious comment.

Fox's lip twitch into a snarl, "Bold," is all he said.

Thorn tried to keep the smile off his face by covering his mouth with his hand eyeing the droid bringing the drinks over. Between drink the two of you passed comments back and forth about decor and drink name ideas. Most of the drinks took on names of various command titles and battalion numbers to really make it clone friendly. Wolffe scowled when his came up but didn't complain that the concept of it was made expresso.

"Him!" A blue captain came walking over who had been very obviously eves dropping pointed at a blue trooper, "Never serve him coffee. Ever. Hardcase is hyper enough. Mind if I join?"

"Getting off your leash for once, vod?" Wolffe snorted scooting into the booth giving him space to sit, "Sit, Rex" he said casually so you wouldn't have to ask.

"Switch spots with me," Thorn whispered, "501st has a few flirts."

You contently stood up letting Thorn slide out so you could slide into his spot unfortunately sliding in next to Fox causing him to scoot closer to Wolffe in the middle. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your glass taking a few sips. While they all conversed about recent duties you took your time eyeing the trooper's automatically finding the flirts as one winked at you. Thorn noticed shooting him a looking smirking as he turned around, "They should leave you alone... hopefully," his tone suggested he was less than positive about the statement.

"She should get use to it," Fox said curtly.

"Just want to through her to the wolves don't you," Wolffe teased winking at him, "You really are a blurg in the mud sometimes."

"Sometimes?" You watched the brotherly banter unfold about the stick up Fox's ass about how tightly wound to he is to his work. Another round of drinks came and they shoved towards Fox telling him to enjoy himself, he drank both of them to shut his brothers up. The drinks had started loosening him up finally but there was still an air about his unwavering authority and harshness after they got a couple more drinks in him that finally started to subside too.

"What do you think so far?" Thorn whispered.

"Like this better then the regular cantina's" you admitted, "Seems more relaxed."

"Most of the time, sometimes fights break out. I don't recommend you civs get anywhere near when one happens."

"Nat Borns, Civs, any other terms I need to know?" you asked curiously.

"Not off the top of my head. Dance?" Thorn asked while the both of you watched in slow motion as the question jostled you enough for your hand to miss completely setting the drink fully down on the counter spilling it's context over Fox.

He growled, "Can't even be asked to dance without being a problem," he grabbed the napkins out of the dispenser blotting up the mess, "Can't wait until you burn yourself with just getting hit on, the amount of paperwork."

"Fox," Wolffe growled back, "Stow it."

Thorn slide out of the booth letting you climb out the flush across your face as bright as Coruscant guard red, "I'm sorry, Fox," you said looking at him.

"It's Commander Fox to you," he said climbing out heading towards the refresher.

Slowly you made your way towards the door before Thorn caught you trying to sneak away, "Dance, he's just tired." You looked between the door and him opting to dance just so he wouldn't hold leaving over your head. After fumbling stepping on Thorn's foot several times you finally got into the grove of the danced "Something on your mind?"

"Just wondering if he's right-"

"The what if's of life are keeps you from being in the present and tends to leave you with guilt."

"Thank you."

The men he tried to ward off kept staring, Thorn scowled at them before giving them a warning gesture to back off. Putting himself between you and them he finally relaxed again muttering about maybe if Fox got laid wouldn't be such an ass, you couldn't help but giggle. He apologized saying he didn't realize he had said that out loud. After a couple more dance the two of you headed back to the table, the three of them still sitting there chatting mindlessly about whatever came out of their liquid freed up mouths.

"Pretty lady at the counter checking you out Foxy," Wolffe snickered.

"I choose the company of my Vod's."

"Even I know how to relax," Rex scowled, "Don't make me call your batch mates," he jokingly threaten.

Fox grimaced looking at the woman at the counter then back at you then back at the woman, "Your sister is prettier than you."

"So are your brothers," you deadpanned slipping out of the booth and out the front door, you felt entirely humiliated. At the risk of crying you flagged down a taxi to take you home instead of wanting to wait around on the bus. Peeling off the dress and stepping into the shower the tears finally shed. The pressure of trying to get the shop up and running, that embarrassment and just wondering what you did wrong after just trying to do something nice hit you like a plummeting ship. You shut off the water just sitting there for a moment before pulling yourself up, Tomorrow is a new day... but avoiding him couldn't hurt.

Between finishing the work load of filing early you ordered everything you needed stating the room number where it needed to be delivered too. Arriving downstairs you found the door prompt open with boxes inside along with Thorn hauling the rest of the guards boxes out.

"Stupid droids delivered some of the supplies to my office, I'll bring them over after I drop these at filing."

"Thank you, Commander," you said formally turning your attention back to the boxes. You groaned at the amount of work you had to do, finding his office you found a few more stacks groaning you push some of them to the room thanking the tiles floor for cooperating. By the time Thorn had gotten back you were gleaming with sweat but managed to get all of the boxes inside.

"I said I was going to bring them over," he scolded watching you down water as if your sweat had sucked all of it out of you.

“Problem?” You heard Fox’s rough voice.

“No, Sir,” you said gulping down the rest of the water prying yourself off the heap of boxes, “Just explaining that I can move my own boxes,” you added curtly glowering at him before stalking off to organize the piles of boxes.

“Next time please let me, it isn’t a problem,” Thorn said pointedly staring at Fox.

You didn’t hear Fox leave, you turned to see his lingering presence in the door frame “Can I help you?”

“Not even open yet and causing problems,” he scoffed walking off.

You wanted to throw a box at his head, if he wasn’t the head of the guard it might have been worth it. Even Thorn cocked his head glaring at him as he walked away, “Funny cause you went home with her ‘sister’ last night.” You’re face turned bright red, you heard him apologizing for the unchaste comment before you shut the door in his face not being able to get the burning under control. He went home with her? If that isn’t a backwards compliment. That insufferable dreadful man is not going to ruin this for me.

Hearing a barely audible tap on the door you opened it apolozing to who you assumed to be Thorn about needing a moment to yourself to find Fox standing there and the rest of your words died in your mouth. He handed you a cup of Caf, as if you didn’t have a few boxes worth in one of these piles, and walked off. Was that a poor excuse for an apology? You took a sip of the caf and nearly sprayed it into the hallway. This is why I’m opening a caf shop, this is disgusting. They get disgusting beer and even worse coffee. However you forced yourself to drink it wrinkling your nose with every drink. It was dangerously caffeinated you zoomed from task to task until the coffee bar was fully set up which looked odd in such an empty room.

“See, the coffee is fine as is,” Fox chuckled walking by to peer at the progress you were making impressed with how much you accomplished.

“I see why you have no taste,” you saw his footstep flatter for a moment knowing the punch landed.

“Don’t know if I should applaud you or be afraid of you,” Thorn chuckled bringing in another huge box, “You forgot your cups, kind of hard to serve coffee without them.”

“Thank you.”

“79’s after?” he asked setting the box next to the counter.

“Because that went so well the first time,” you muttered, “Sure,” you said offering a smile.

Sure enough, Fox walked in saying he was going too. You tried to keep a straight face but the tension between the half hidden glare was enough to make Thorn squirm hauling his brother out of the room to leave you to your work.

[mywifeleftme]

120: Warren Zevon // Life'll Kill Ya

Life'll Kill Ya Warren Zevon 2000, Artemis

In the mid-1990s, after 20 years as a confirmed rocker, Warren Zevon started volunteering to interviewers that he had always really considered himself a folk singer at heart, the one-off success of “Werewolves of London” notwithstanding. This tact was largely a way of putting a positive spin on the fact that Zevon could no longer afford to tour with a full band, forcing him to play predominantly solo acoustic shows to a dwindling audience. But this new economic reality did push Zevon’s songwriting in a folkier direction, and the quieter, more intimate records that comprise his late period contain some of his finest music.

The transition began with 1995’s home-recorded Mutineer, which despite the quality of its songs (“The Indifference of Heaven,” “Mutineer,” “Monkey Wash, Donkey Rinse”) was undone by Zevon’s disastrously inept self-production. His new management was determined not to repeat the error for his latest comeback attempt (every Zevon record since 1982 had been billed as a “comeback”), and they decided to look for a contemporary producer who could play to Zevon’s strengths while freshening up his sound. They asked Warren what recent albums he’d liked the production on, and he told them “Radiohead.” To Zevon’s surprise, they replied that they could get Radiohead’s producer—although, granted, it was Pablo Honey’s Paul Q. Kolderie rather than Nigel Godrich, which is kind of a “We have Radiohead at home” situation. Still, Kolderie proved to be an excellent choice. When he listened to Zevon’s demos, he understood that the power of the songs was accentuated by their spare arrangements, and he was able to steer Zevon away from the star-studded guest lists he’d relied upon to drum up commercial interest in his music since his late ‘70s breakthrough. The resulting LP, 2000’s Life’ll Kill Ya, plays like the album Mutineer should’ve been, a stripped-down, well-recorded affair focused on Zevon’s remarkable words and increasingly skilful guitar playing.

It was frequently observed around the time of Zevon’s untimely death in 2003 from mesothelioma that, despite his final LP The Wind being pitched as a meditation of mortality, he’d already cut his ‘death’ album three years prior. Zevon was unaware of his burgeoning illness during the writing of Life’ll Kill Ya, but it’s hard not to read foreshadowing into the blunt doctor-patient dialogue of “My Shit’s Fucked Up” or the humanist prayer “Don’t Let Us Get Sick.” Death is everywhere on this album, whether Zevon’s pondering what comes after this life, poking at the corpse of Elvis Presley, or comparing his relationship history to a series of gruesomely botched magic tricks (“I can saw a woman in two / But you won’t wanna look / In the box when I’m through / I can make love disappear / For my next trick, I’ll need a volunteer”).

Still, mordant humour had been Zevon’s stock in trade for decades, and the album continues the fascinations that animated him his whole career. What makes Life’ll Kill Ya a standout is its sensitivity, a quality that often got a little lost in the macho mythologizing of his ‘80s and early ‘90s catalogue. At another time, Zevon might’ve written something like “Hostage-O” as a throwaway joke, but instead it turns into one of the better songs ever written about BDSM. The apparent contradiction between Zevon’s music box guitar melody and schoolboy vocal with the sheer transgressive weirdness of the lyric (“I can see me bound and gagged / Dragged behind the clownmobile / You can treat me like a dog / If you make me feel what others feel”) echoes the tensions between what D/S partners do to each other and how tenderly these actions are negotiated. It becomes a song true both to its direct subject matter, and to the risks that come of putting yourself in someone else’s hands emotionally. The song is a joke, and it isn’t—at certain extremes of intensity, you may not know what you’re feeling, only that you are.

With the possible exception of his sainted 1976 self-titled effort, even the best of Zevon’s albums are warts-and-all affairs, and Life’ll Kill Ya has a couple of duds, like the pleasant-enough but seemingly endless “Fistful of Rain.” On balance though, it’s among his most consistent efforts, and the last great album he had the chance to cut. Warren has been a special artist to me since I discovered him in high school, and I can’t think of many I’ve spent more time with. Warren’s wounded, sardonic outlook was a good match for the way I saw the world at 17, but I also think it played a role in the way I gradually twisted into the person I am now, for good and ill. I’m glad that this later Zevon exists, because it shows how a person can deepen and grow, even as other bad habits persist—and how it’s possible to see both sides, and love them all the same.

BONUS: Selections from Zevon's later years

120/365

[valentinos-corner]

Helloo Valentino! how're you doing today?

I'm sorry to hear that, that really sucks :( I hope things got better as the day progressed

but also a very good point! having the house to yourself is always such fun, definitely enjoy that ^^

Also, before I get into the story tonight, I had a quick question: Which of your oc ships do you like the most :0? 'cause I want to choose one to send with a prompt for you to draw, but I've honestly no idea where to begin in choosing a ship that pairs well with one of the prompts! /nf

And, as promised, a story! I figured I'd try my hand at storytelling tonight, so feel free to give feedback as to how I did, since I don't do this very often :> (warning: it's a tad long)

Okay so there's this guy, and he lives in this tinyyy wee town towards the country midwest, where all sorts of corn and wheat's grown

And he needs a new pair of boots! since his are all worn out from pacing he did when he tried to cancel his cable tv subscription (he never managed to cancel it either)

So he drives his way on down to the little boot store in the middle of the town nearest to him, which is about a 20 minute drive - not too shabby, he'll be in and out in less than the time it took him to drive

He walks in, smells the good ol' smell of boot leather, and begins to look around for some boots; Some look a little too modern, others look like they came straight from lewis and clark's feet, and some are good looking but cost an arm, a leg, and a pound of extinct potatoes

Finally, at the veryyy back of the store, he catches glimpse of a wondrous pair of boots: They're all spec'd out, look just like his old ones, come in his size, and, best of all, they're the cheapest ones in the store

So he pokes around on the shelves below the display to find the box with his size, but after about 5 minutes of solid looking, they're nowhere to be found D:

And so he goes up to the manager of the store (who's also the only employee and full-time cash register person) and asks them if they possibly have any of that kind of boot in his size perhaps? So the manager tells him to "Wait right her' " and proceeds to walk away without another word, and not return for half an hour, when he returns from where he was, and informs the man trying to buy boots that "Wer all out in the back - We can erder ya' some if ya'd like"

The man says sure, and heads back to his home to wait until the boots get there

Later that week, as the man's driving home from his weekly singing lessons (he likes to learn so he can sing to his dogs), he decides to stop by at the boot store and ask how the delivery's going

He walks in, greets the man who served him those couple days prior, and asks when the boots'll get there; The manager replies that they just arrived matter of fact, and they're in the back now

The manager walks away for a bit, then returns with a big box that has a picture of the precise model of boots printed on the front

"Wonderful!" the man says as he reaches for his wallet to pay then and there, before he realises: He's left his wallet somewhere D:

So, with much a grim face, he cedes the opportunity to purchase his shoes right then, and sets off to look for his wallet, in which is all his hard-earned cash

He drives all around town, first to his house, then to his singing lessons studio, then, finally, to the market, where he had been just before going to his lessons

There he meets an extremely friendly doggo who also just so happens to be holding the man's wallet in his mouth XD

The man, much obliged, takes the wallet from the doggo, promising to tip generously the next time he's in town, and makes his way back to his car; When he gets there, he turns the key, and.... the engine sputters and dies - he's all out of gas

So, throwing his arms in the air, he gets out, walks forty-five minutes to the gas station on the other side of town, fills up his spare gas container, and walks the forty-five minutes back; He fills up his car, and finally, he gets to go buy his shoes

When he gets there, the manager hadn't moved a muscle it seemed, save for the fact that now he was holding a magazine filled with boots and knives, as were his two main hobbies

The man walks in, slams the cash down on the counter in final moment of triumph, and the manager smiles a proud smile, reaches under his desk, and pulls out about 15 sheets of paper: A massive contract that the man apparently needs to sign

Aggravated but determined, the man grits his teeth, sits down across from the manager, and begins to skim through the contract: No publicly defacing the boots, no badmouthing the company whilst wearing the boots, yada yada yada, and done! all signed

Handing it back to the manager, he finally, at long last, receives the boots that he had waited so long to buy

He returns home, strings 'em up, and lies back blissfully on his recliner to watch some television, all fitted out with his New BootsTM

...But wait, there's more!

The man's life passes by without a second though thrown toward the boot fiasco; so forgotten it was, in fact, that the man even floundered to think of a fun fact one time, when that was a perfectly good one! XD

But anyways, about forty years later, while the man lies ill on his deathbed among his family and friends, having lived a full and satisfying life, a knock comes on the door

The man's eldest grandson goes to open it, and the man who steps inside immediately strikes the man on the deathbed as very familiar: A brown hat with a knife brand on it, a blue-ish white polo shirt.... This old man, however stooping and aged now, is most definitely the manager who sold him the boots all those years ago! boots which sit at the foot of the elderly man's bed

The manager moves his way slowly over to the man, making good use of the cane in his right hand, and, with a frail old voice, asks one simple question:

"You're warranty's... expired on the boots... Either extend it now... or we'll have to take them back *cough cough*"

They both stare at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing, remarking on the good old days and how they sorely missed those times, and agree that maybe the boots aren't all that useful anymore

The manager remarks that the only reason he came was because the contract the man signed legally bound the manager to watch after him for the rest of his life, something which even the manager wasn't aware of until he had read the contract

And so, in watching the man who bought the boots live his life, the manager himself discovered ways to live his life that he hadn't even considered prior

And to seal of the story in a merry and concise manner, they all gave a hip-hip-huzzah to the cheapest boots in the store, drank to their health, and went their own ways

Aaaand that's the story! hopefully you enjoyed it somewhat, I'm not sure how well it came out for one made up on the spot and at midnight XD But nonetheless, I sincerely hope that you're doing well now, and that you get a really great sleep tonight ^^ thank you for being such a good friend, and I'll see you tomorrow! o7 and also if you want, let me know which oc ships you'd like and I can send you a request :> Okay now, bye for now!! Be at peace and get loved, see you soon!!

helllloooo

smashing news

I'm completely alone in the house aside from my rabbit's ghost, a stupid cat, a slightly smarter cat, and a dog with anxiety

in other words, my family's on a trip to the nearest card shop (they play magic the gathering and we live in the middle of nowhere so they have to drive multiple hours)

sooooo ya :D

uhhhhh

honestly I don't have a favorite favorite but I love sozo + mukoa and ink + monarch

I would say mina and alibi but I don't have any pictures of alibi because her mod is never online-

[deartouya]

TIME OF YEAR — HAWKS

summary: the week following valentine's day, you start getting a gift a day. they're always sitting on your desk when you get in, never attached to any note, and always something that you'd like. then a certain pro-hero shows up at your door brandishing a bouquet.

pairing: hawks x gn!reader

wordcount: 1.4k

content: reader works in miruko's agency, fluff, stocked full of (very american) valentine's fluff and cliches, gift giving as a weird confession, best friend bakugou bc i can't help myself, mentions of food/eating.

happy valentine's day lovies !!! i barely finished this in time but ;-; it's done !! and i had to write something for keigo bc i love him dearly ;-; i hope you enjoy my self indulgence even if it's not my best work !

Working for Miruko's agency has been surprisingly mundane for a top hero agency. Spending your day filing reports and attempting to lessen the load of paperwork for her and the dozens of sidekicks she worked with. You'd grown fond of the routine, comfortable with your daily cafe runs and lunches spent working at your desk. It was nice, normal.

The past week has been weird, though.

It started with a rose. Soft and creamy maroon petals left in the center of your desk without a note or any hint of who had left it. You thought it'd been a mistake, someone mistaking your office for someone else's, but no one in the entire office building recognized or claimed it. So you found a dusty flower vase under your sink and kept it on the corner of your desk.

Next were blueberry muffins. You recognized the little white box from your favorite bakery the moment you saw it, the one nestled in a corner of the city which is almost always empty. Buttery and still warm when you finally willed yourself to open it. You couldn't help the warmth which filled your chest at the smell of them and you ate two of them for breakfast before starting your paperwork.

The rest of the week was filled with more gifts, all practical or catered perfectly to your own tastes; a pair of cashmere gloves a muted gray, a coffee from your favorite cafe just the way you ordered it, a shiny broach in the shape of two doves, a travel coffee mug not too much after your own finally worn out. Nothing that hinted at whoever's been leaving them for you.

 "Come on, Katsuki," you lament, folding yourself pathetically over your desk, "you're always at the office--you have to have seen them come to my office! And you're the only one who knows I go to that bakery every morning, you have to know!" He snorts, barely looking up from his own stack of reports to see the considerably large box of heart-shaped chocolates. The rich, fancy kind that if you ever had a craving for you would've had to save half your paychecks.

His eyes seem to get stuck on the ribbon holding it shut, on the sliver of something soft and red poking out. You pluck it out, expecting a sticky note or card--anything but a feather the size of your index finger.

"Is this supposed to be a hint?" Katsuki only stares blankly at you, something akin to amusement warming the red of his eyes as your annoyance mounts, "do they have a pet bird? I don't think I know anyone with a parrot--except for that one guy from tech but his is blue."

Katsuki rolls his eyes, dropping his pen and shoving his chair away from his desk, “and why would he leave a hint? If he wanted you to know who he was he wouldla left a fuckin’ note on one of of ‘em.”

“I don’t know! I’m tired of not knowing,” you collapse back into your chair to stare forlornly at the ceiling, “no one in the building will admit to leaving them and we both know that they’re awful liars.” You’d tracked down nearly everyone who worked on your floor to ask about the gifts, even cornering an extremely nervous Midoriya in the elevator on your way home. None of them admitted to it. And none of them paid nearly enough attention to know where you bought your muffins or coffees from. 

“You’re overthinking.” 

You huffed, arms crossed over your chest as Katsuki returned to his paperwork. “I just don’t know who’s doing it, no one’s seemed nervous around me and I haven’t gone on a date in months.”

“Might make you less stressed,” Katsuki snips, a flash of canines when you chuck your now emptied coffee cup at his head—which he blocks easily with a laugh. 

“I’m serious, Katsuki. I’ve never had someone all that interested in me—let alone this interested. I just want to figure out who it is.”

He softens just a little, sighing and dropping the empty cup in the bin beside him. You know you’re being childish, pestering him all week over something as trivial as a potential secret admirer when you both have stacks of paperwork and endless reports.

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” That look’s back, something passing slowly over his face—like he’s considering his words carefully, hiding what he knows, “Valentine's day’s tomorrow—maybe he’ll show up then.”

You don’t notice anything weird until you get to your office. Oblivious with the expectant stares of your co-workers, the raptness in which they watch you hurry to your office, the way they all look at eachother. Until you’re confronted with an incredibly familiar and out of place set of eyes, “Hawks!”

He starts at the sound of your voice despite facing the door, fingers tightening around a bouquet of budding peonies and wings ruffled and restless behind him. He looks out of place in your office—large and imposing, standing awkwardly in front of your desk and feathers twitching behind him.

Pictures could never do Hawks justice. He’s always prettier, brighter—the warmth of his hair and the flush of freckles across his nose—in person. He’s larger than life, all wide smiles and crimson wings, and no amount of photographers can capture all of him as he is. Breathtaking. But now, he looks nearly skittish.

Hawks smiles at you then—nervous and disarmingly ill-practiced for someone whose job is half made up of practiced smiles—and brings the bouquet just a little closer to his chest. “I saw these while I was on patrol… it’s that time of year, isn’t it?” His voice is quiet, something soft and tender that makes you feel warm all over.

Everything hits you very suddenly—the feather, the knowing way Katsuki had behaved when questioned, every pricey gift that had been left. Hawks visited the agency all the time, visited you in your office and had taken you for coffee at the very cafe your gift came from. He’d also put the final nail in your travel mug’s coffin, knocking it off the edge of your desk the last time he’d visited you with a teasing feather. Of course it’d been him.

“You left the gifts. You’re my secret admirer,” you say dumbly, sounding quiet and childish even to yourself. 

But Hawks flushes, chin tucking into the plushness of his collar and failing to hide his wide and boyish grin, “I did—I am.” His hand—noticeably bare and warm—cups your own, transferring the bouquet of soft pinks and reds to you. “And these made me think of you when I saw them in the shop—you said peonies were your favorites.”

You flounder under the weight of his grin, the sweetness of flowers, the heady smell of his cologne, and the crispness of wind which always surrounds him. You’ve never been this close to him, always had a buffer in the form of mutual friend or coworker to soften the interaction. It’s overwhelming to be this close knowing he likes you. Knowing he pays such attention to you.

A swell of emotions overtakes you, grin so wide it aches and his own seems to mirror it. Hawks is warm, a slow gentle heat which seeps into you and melts against your skin from where his hands are skating up your arms. It’s dizzying and you find yourself leaning into him, overcome with the sudden urge to kiss him, to be even closer, to curl your hands into the softness of his collar and pull him into you.

But you don’t.

His wings twitch again behind him again, restless ruffling as he lifts a hand to rub at the nape of his neck. You track the movement with a smile—it’s oddly endearing to see him acting so human, so unlike everything you’re used to seeing of him. “Do you want to get dinner after patrol?” Golden eyes flick over your face, as if looking for any hesitance—discomfort. He doesn’t find any. “There’s this really good yakitori place down the street.”

“Sounds like a date, Kei.” His smile’s immediate, blindingly bright and so wide the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

“A date,” he echoes giddily, face flushed and smile half-concealed behind his hand.

[taechaos]

A Night of Discovery

pairing: hybrid!Taehyung x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere au, smut

synopsis: For a learning trip, a seemingly innocent fox has taught you to never trust a predator in one day.

warnings: noncon, mention of murder, sadism

word count: 3.3k

a/n: ok so i may have made a moodboard to make up for how bad this is, SUE ME 😭 the request (spoiler warning)

The road is bumpy as the bus navigates through the looming forest, endless pine trees passing by your eyes in a blur. Chatters swirl in the fresh cold air, windows slightly cracked open as you try to sleep for the nth time with your head leaning against the smudged glass. You jolt awake each time, and it’s been two hours since your first attempt because of the reckless driver in the front. You’re clutching your backpack in your lap as you fantasize about the summer, your upcoming graduation.

Being in your final year of high school, the stress has been eating at you, but your biology teacher had the sheer niceness to give her students a break by taking you on a field trip to a marine zoo. It’s related to your syllabus, studying about marine ecology and all, and you were given the freedom to choose an aquatic animal of your choice to make a project on. You aren’t the least bit excited, because the zoo is so huge that your parents had to pay for the night you have to spend in a motel. Walking for hours and searching for one interesting fish is not at all thrilling.

Your body lurches forward when the driver abruptly hits the brakes. You take out your earphones as everyone stands up. The bus doors open with a hiss from the rush of air as students step outside one by one. You are sluggish when you hop on the cement, and the zoo is huge in front of you. The glass panels complement the surrounding greens, and you can catch the crashes of the waves from the shore behind. You can’t see it, and the environment is rather lonely except for the building close by: the motel next to the zoo.

Ms. Kang is directing your classmates to the motel first, and you’re about to follow before you stumble on your shoelaces. You crouch down to tie them, and when your teacher looks back, you say, “I’ll be there in a second!” When they’re inside, you decide to stretch your limbs after sitting in a stiff chair for so long. You walk to the woods by the parking lot, curious about the sights under the grey clouds. The weather is rather gloomy, and it doesn’t exactly help you feel better until you step on the grass ahead of the road. You sling your backpack over your shoulders and start touching the tree trunks out of boredom. It isn't entertaining, but it's relaxing.

A distant growl snaps you out of your sightseeing and you search around with your eyes for the source. The sound is very peculiar, and it has you feeling slightly nervous but undoubtedly curious.

You aim to take a step forward until your name is hollered, and you yell, “I’m here!” You hear hasty footsteps until Jimin appears next to you.

“Ms. Kang is asking for you. It’s your turn to check in,” he informs and you’re about to reply until you hear another growl. It’s louder compared to the previous one, and the both of you look into the forest in fright. It’s drawn out, but it gradually grows quiet. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” you furrow your brows a little anxiously and eventually enter the building with Jimin.

After everyone settled into their rooms, ate in the café provided by the zoo, the real trip began. You have to admit, the aquarium is gorgeous. The blue light reflecting from the water is easy on the eyes, and you’re fawning over all the swimming fish in admiration. There is a guide with you, and you listen to any information that is related to your favorite animals so far. You note down the names as a requirement from the teacher, and research some on your phone throughout your exploration. It’s actually interesting in the beginning, but you do get somewhat bored when a few hours pass. It’s 7PM when the tour ends for the day, and the rest of your time is leisure. 

You’re allowed back in your rooms for the evening, and you rest on the comfortable bed to gain back some of your energy. You’re more interested in the forest just outside, and you take out a box of fruits from your bag before leaving the motel. It’s dark when you munch on a sliced green apple while eyeing the forest. The lights from the motel sign help with your vision and you’re just standing on the empty lot while twirling around absentmindedly. It’s not like you’re close enough with anyone to hang out with them at this time, but it allows you to appreciate the breeze more. You’re wearing a cardigan to keep you warm, and you’re enjoying your time until you hear a whimper. 

You stop in your tracks before inching closer to the sound. It’s pained, or at least you think it is, and you take out your phone to shine a flashlight at the eerie forest. More whimpers resound in your ears, and you timidly trudge into the darkness. You yelp when you feel something soft lightly graze your calves, and jump away before seeing it: it’s the tail of a red fox. You gasp in slight fear because you don’t know if you trespassed or are in danger. The fox stares at you, and you stare back until it quietly whines again. “Awww,” you unintentionally coo. You’re scared when it wraps its fluffy tail around you, but you’re not so intimidated when it starts snuggling into your legs. You crouch to level with it and hesitantly bring your fingers to its head. Its fur is so soft that you wonder if it has been tamed.

“You’re so cute,” you gush in a whisper when it leans into your hand. You retract your hand and take out a blueberry from your container and feed it to the fox. Your heart warms just by watching it chew, and you give it some more. This encounter might be the best part about this trip, because the animal is just so adorable. You want to cry from how overwhelmingly precious and pure it seems with its adoring gaze. You’re grinning brightly as you eat with it, sharing your only snack for this whole expedition. 

You entertain yourself with it for a little while before deciding to go back. You ignore its protests guiltily and bid farewell, “I’ll see you again, cutie.” It’s already been an hour and your legs ache from bending for so long. You know you shouldn’t be out too late, and as you retrace your steps back to the motel, you hear it run off deep into the woods. 

The night is spent tossing and turning in bed because you wanted to sleep early in order to function at 8AM the next morning, but you can’t force it. Surfing through the media or keeping your eyes closed for 15 minutes straight didn’t help in the slightest, and somehow your energy has been increasing instead. The window adjacent to the mattress glares at you with its beauty of the crowd of unsaturated trees. You didn’t bother pulling the curtains because it’s a pleasant view, and the stars that you rarely see in the city shine brightly in the countryside. You think back to your interaction with the fox, and a smile creeps up on your tired face. You want to see it again.

Putting your shirt back on, you’re adjusting your cardigan when you crack open the door of your room. No one’s roaming in the halls, as expected since it’s midnight, but you try to be mindful of your temporary neighbours as you sneakily exit the building. You turn to your left instantly to scurry towards the mysterious forest. You don’t know if the fox is still around, but you whistle lowly anyway. Twigs snap beyond your vision, and you warily wait for something to happen. 

An extremely loud growl rips a tiny scream out of you and you immediately flinch backwards. You’re frozen in your spot, almost paralyzed as the growls continue. It’s confusing because the noise is more like an aggressive hiss, and it’s unlike anything you’ve heard before. It suddenly switches to a whimper, a plea. You don’t know if you have to break a fight between two animals, but it doesn’t matter when your curiosity takes over and makes you confidently (albeit feigned) stride into the jungle. 

As if your actions are being encouraged, the whimpers grow more desperate and you take slow steps while watching out for any predators waiting to attack. You’re trembling in fear, but then your fox also might need help… 

The motion is way too quick for you to process and you let out a blood curdling scream when you’re tackled to the ground. You don’t stop screaming even when your mouth is covered, muffling your cry for help. 

“Calm down,” a honeyed rich voice tells you, soothing with its calm tone, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You quiet down and peek at the assailant through heavy lids. A confused hum catches in your throat upon seeing batlike ears that poke through dark hair. They easily blend in together, and you scrutinize his features and notice a swishing bushy tail behind the man on top of you. Terror dawns in your eyes, though the man looks fairly tranquilent by the ordeal.

“You fed me earlier,” he recounts and slowly removes his hand from your face. You’re gawking up at him as he clarifies, “Fox hybrid.” You squeak when his tongue darts out to lick your cheek and chuckles at your expression.

“What a-are you doing?” you snivel shakily. 

He gently tucks a stray strand behind your ear before answering nonchalantly, “Scenting my precious doll. You’re so pretty, and kind… and naive.” 

Your breaths quicken when he leans into you, but he conveniently misses your lips to bury his face into your neck. The fur on his pointy ear tickles your jawline, and you’re startled when he starts to sniff you. You feel him lick your sensitive skin and clench your fists with a mewl. You’re utterly terrified by the discovery of a new species, who also seems to be very strong and stealthy. He’s handsome, gifted with a heart shaped face and a set of charming black eyes with full lips, but it’s not important when he’s crushing you with his weight to keep you in place. His mouth and nose are all over you as they explore your taste and smell, and his satisfaction is evident with his sighs of bliss.

“I couldn’t get enough of you earlier,” he reveals with a subtle moan, “I've never had the experience of smelling something so delicious. It's fortunate that you're so easy to fool.” The only thing that you do know about foxes is how cunning they are, but you didn’t think one would land you in this situation. You’re heaving to breathe with a struggle, but he pays no mind to it. “I can’t wait to claim you.”

Despite rendering you immobile, he sounds more desperate and needy than you do; as if he’s the weaker one, like the roles are switched. You might be able to use that to your advantage… “I would love that,” you choke out, though you have no idea what he means by his words, “but I can’t move. I-I want to kiss you.” You want to smack your forehead for coming up with such a terrible lie; you don't even know if his intention is to kiss you.

“Yeah?” he drawls seductively and withdraws his knees from your thighs, most likely leaving a bruise from how hard he dug them in. He holds himself up by his palms that previously clung onto your shoulders and limits your peripheral vision. Your eyes trail to his defined collarbone for a short moment, the moonlight casting a shadow over his fine features. “Kiss me then.”

You inhale sharply before raising your leg to kick him, but his reflexes are faster than yours as he prevents it with one knee. He tuts, “I’m offended; I thought you found me cute.” A knowing smile graces his pink lips, and it doesn’t falter even when you open your mouth to scream again. His calloused hand immediately silences you before you can make any noise, and his other hand reaches down to your lower region. “I even wore a pretty outfit for you today. Such an ungrateful doll...” 

He tugs on your pajama shorts, dragging them down to your knees along with your underwear. You shake your hand and beg unintelligibly, “Please don’t.” You clench your thighs together, but he forces them open and leans back to take your bottoms off completely. The weather feels like it’s dropped to negative degrees as you shiver and he gently hushes you when you begin to sob. 

“Oh doll, there’s no reason to cry yet,” he sighs in fake empathy, “I just really, really want to fuck you.” He heaves his shirt over his head, and that’s when you get a glimpse of his so-called “pretty outfit”. The black garment is familiar because it's the merchandise of an indie band with its flamboyant logo; you know you’ve seen someone else wear it today. He has to use both hands to take it off completely, and once it’s off, your wails echo in the deserted land as he ties it around your mouth. It’s Jimin’s outfit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me. I love having your attention.” His voice is a mere breath, filled with anticipation to touch you.

He slides down to your knees as he continues to undress himself. He’s throbbing under the uncomfortable fabric of the tight jeans, and instead of attacking him with your now free hands, you cover your face stained with tears as you cry. You feel like you’re having a heart attack as your gut churns in defeat; there’s no point in fighting a man who might’ve killed your classmate, a fox no less.

The moment his pants are down his thighs, his stiff length grazes his stomach before he palms it and rubs himself up and down your folds. Your heat is damp with your natural discharge, but it’s so warm and he feels so aroused as a moan slips past his luscious lips. “You must think I’m so rude,” he whispers and hovers over your face, “I haven’t even introduced myself and yet I’m already marking you.”

He whines cutely at a particular tingle before saying, “My name’s Taehyung. I’d love to hear you moan it, but you’re just so naughty.” His emphasis is airy, and you’re terrified by the contrast of his soft tone and rough actions. He’s calculated, but also very reckless; almost amateur as he begins to position himself by your entrance.

Your words are gibberish as you repeat: “No, no, please no!” He clicks his tongue in response and locks eyes with you just before he shoves his cock inside, no adjustment whatsoever as his pitch grows higher in wonderment. He’s down to the hilt, and the fabric in your mouth isn’t enough to drown out your scream of pain. The stretch is excruciating. His eyes screw back as he loses himself in you, and it’s as if he’s lost all control when he starts slamming into you at an unforgiving pace. 

As opposed to your protests, he starts chanting, “Yes, yes, fuck yes, my perfect little doll.” He’s never had intercourse with a human before, but it’s not up for comparison when he’s feeling so heavenly because of your tightness. You’re pulsating around him, walls clenching in discomfort because you’re in so much agony. You push his shoulders, but it’s futile as he doesn’t budge in the slightest; he almost appears possessed, but his loud moans disprove the theory. 

He can’t form coherent words, and neither can you. If you weren’t in such a shock, you’d be encouraging him to be louder in case anyone is nearby to help you. You thrash under him, but your movements are limited because of his firm build. You beg and beg, but he is animalistic with his chase for his high. The sound of slapping skin have no pauses in between because of his pace, and dare he admit that the predator in him enjoys your attempts at getting away. It makes it so much more fun for him, but he’s unable to savour it from how your pussy sucks him in so deliciously. "You feel so fucking good, I'm going crazy."

Once he’s gained some of his sensibility back, he latches onto your neck to lick and bite you. You pull at his hair to yank him away, his canine teeth sinking into your flesh for a second before he moves onto another spot. His torture is endless, and his growls scare you enough to remove your hand and shake like a leaf under him. He wants to taste all of you, and you can't serve as an obstacle.

“Pet my ears,” he grunts, “touch me, touch me, dolly.” 

The initial pain is starting to subside, and your thoughts are coming together although they’re hazed. You’re still aching, but you know he just dropped you a hint; the sooner he’s satisfied, the earlier this nightmare ends. Your fingertips stroke the back of his twitching ear. His fur is so velvety, and petting him is the least bad part about this experience. You must be doing something right, because he’s getting so noisy that there’s no way someone would miss you now. You suck your teeth with a hiss as he sets an impossibly rapid rate, rearranging your guts with every snap of his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cries breathlessly. His release washes over him as spurts of cum paint your throbbing walls in white, and you’re relieved that this is the end. 

His intakes of air are hot on your skin as his breath fans the crook of your neck. Your stomach drops the moment he murmurs his next words, “I want to do it again.”

“Hey!” a gruff voice interrupts his huffs, and your whole world lights up when you see a man in a uniform with a flashlight over your heaving nude bodies. Taehyung is surprised that he didn’t catch the man’s footsteps when he walked over. “This is indecent exposure, you know–” the security officer goes quiet in shock when he notices the perk of Taehyung’s ears, and then the stiff, unmoving tail behind. “What the fuck?”

Taehyung rolls off of you before disappearing from your sight in a single second. He is stealthy and quick, and his footsteps are light when he leaves; presumably shifting as he goes. The guard attempts to chase after him before stopping in front of you. His eyes trail down your figure before he looks away in disgust. “Goddammit, kid, put your clothes back on.” 

“Thank you so much,” you choke on your tears of joy as you ignore the ache in your thighs, the swelling in your heart and your suffocating turmoil. You stand up on wobbly knees and slowly dress yourself. The officer has his back facing you while you change, and you’re grateful he doesn’t witness how fragile you are. 

“What are you thanking me for?” he asks after a moment of prolonged silence.

“H-He was raping me,” you speak in a hushed tone, “and I think h-he killed my classmate.”

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll go notify the police. Are you staying in the motel?”

When you return back to your room with the company of your savior, you’re hurting everywhere and sleep comes to you easily from all the crying you’ve done. You wake up from a knock on your door, and it’s early in the morning as your teacher says, “Pack up dear, we’re leaving in half an hour.”

They found the clothes, you note when you limp outside with your bag dragging you down. There are dried tear stains on your cheeks when you step on the open bus, and you see a bunch of cops surrounding the forest through the window. Jimin isn’t inside, and you shake your head with pursed lips as sobs bubble up in your throat. This feels nothing short of a nightmare. 

The class is informed of Jimin’s disappearance after taking off, and you lean your head against the window as the driver recklessly drives. Your vision is blurred with tears as you watch the forest, but it doesn’t distort it enough for you to miss the flash of a blood red tail skip between the trees, following the path of your transport.

After all, foxes are known for being fast. There’s no way this one wouldn’t be able to track you down sooner or later, your scent bringing you back to him.

[lou-struck]

A Long Winter's Nap

Shota Aizawa x Reader

Day 22: Matching Pj's

25 Days of Ficmas Masterlist

WC: 1,000+

Sometimes things can get busy. The holidays are no exception to this, between festive parties and bustling around trying to run basic errands it’s been extremely hard for your boyfriend to get the rest he needs to function.

Shota Aizawa is not one to go out of his way to enjoy the festivities of the season, but sadly he’s unable to dodge them once the ball gets rolling. After a solid week and a half of sleep deprivation, he has had enough.

After dragging himself up the stair of his apartment not wanting to be stuck inside an elevator full of middle school-aged Christmas carolers he flops down onto the bed where you were sitting crisscrossed going through the contents of your mailbox.

“Shota? Are you alright?” you ask poking him in his side as his head shakes in response. “Well if you're fine can you please get off my mail.”

He shifts slightly so you can pull the letters out from under him

How many days can I sleep? He groans turning over in the bed as his long inky hair covers most of his face. You affectionately swipe it to the side before running the pad of your thumb along the large scar under his eye. Humming thoughtfully as you do the math in your head.

“You have two whole weeks off Sho,” you say softly. He gets the most content look on his face as his eyelids flutter as if to say they are excited to enjoy every moment of rest they will be soaking up this break.

Before he tries to drift off he reaches an arm over your waist and pulls you next to him as you try to squirm out of his hold to continue your streak of productivity.

“Come on Love, it's time for us to take a break,” he murmurs into your ear hoping to lull you to sleep with the deep baritone of his voice.

For a few minutes, it seems he is successful, but you are unable to get truly comfortable due to the lack of comfort you feel trying to sleep in your work pants, but the buttons are angled into your flesh and you just can't relax.

Wiggling free from a Pro Heros restful embrace is no easy task but after you do it Shota peeks open his eyes and looks at you like you had three heads. “Why did you leave?” he groans stretching his arms like a cat.

“I just want to change into something more comfortable, since you're up you should too,” you tell him as he reluctantly. As he looks at his worn uniform. And at his overflowing hamper of laundry

“I guess I'm a bit low on clothes right now, can I wear some of your sweats?” he asks wanting to change into something that smells a lot better than what he is wearing at the moment.

A large grin springs across your face as you dart out of the room and grab a present from under your tree. “I know it's not quite Christmas, but I think we can use these,” you say holding out the box out for him to open.

“ Are you sure?“ He asks making a small tear in the wrapping paper so that if you change your mind he’s not going to be in the doghouse.

“ Yeah, besides I don’t even know if you’re going to be awake for Christmas at this point.“ You tease as he shoots you a little glare his eyes flashing red. You know that he is excited about it, and eventually, he will tire himself out from sleeping to do the typical things that are required of adults during the holidays such as shopping and socializing.

“If you insist,” he drawls out opening the paper slowly. He’s moving too slow and you’re getting impatient he knows this and teases you like the smug bastard he is. Denying you the excitement of seeing his expression once he finally opens his gift.

“ Shota, if you keep up that pace you’re going to end up opening it by next year.“ You whine impatiently as he takes his time pulling back the paper and opening his box.

He holds out a nice-looking set of Pajamas, the pattern comes with four pieces that can be switched out all year-round.

The soft fabric is cool to the touch as he runs his hands along the material. He admires them before looking at you gratefully. “These are for me?” he asks hesitantly as you nod.

“Go put them on,” you say encouragingly as he starts to undress. Meanwhile, you get up and grab the set you got yourself so the two of you could match. (It also was a buy one get one free deal but you don't need to tell him that.)

“You look pretty good too.” he reaches a hand around to pluck the tag off of your shirt.

Do you like them? You ask gesturing to both of your sets. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close, the feeling of the fabric against your cheek is grounding as he places a kiss on your forehead. “I love them, and I love you,” he says pulling you onto the bed with a tired smile.

“I'm glad," you smile allowing him to get the two of you situated under the blankets for his long winter's nap. After realizing that you cannot move, you ask his Smart home device to turn off the lights.

After a few minutes, you believe him to be asleep, looking up at his face you meet his barely open eyes. "What do you think you're doing there," he grumbles pulling you closer.

"Just looking," you whisper as his chest shakes with quiet laughter.

"I Love you," he says before drifting off. He doesn't have to say it but every time he does it's like another weighted blanket wraps around you grounding you to him.

Productivity and holiday festivities can wait, right now the only thing that seems to matter is the gentle breaths of your boyfriend who is finally getting the rest he deserves.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Omg your goodgirlxbadboyRafe is just amazing! You are so talented! Will you do a part 2 for the beach day one when they go home And she calms him down ??

A/N: Asdfghjkl Me? Talented?

Soft [Part 2] - Rafe Cameron

Words: 1.9k+

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Female!Reader. Swearing. Showering with s/o - nothing sexual. Really soft Rafe.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Part 1

The only thing you can hear is the faint sound of waves and the sticks crackling under your feet. Rafe is silent. His eyes glued to the ground as he’s lost in thought. 

He had put his shirt on not too long ago, and you had only been able to put on your shorts. You aren’t holding his hand anymore, and he’s walking a little in front of you. He had let go of your hand when you had to walk through a tighter dirt path and from then on, he didn’t reach back for you.

You look up from your feet and quickly see the backyard of your neighbors’ home, meaning, that you’re almost home.

As you two walk through the large backyards, the sound of the waves is lost in the distance and all you can hear is you two stepping on the soft grass.

Rafe gets to your backdoor before you, waiting patiently for you to get your key and unlock it for him. 

You can’t really tell how he’s feeling, his eyes still continue glued to the ground, leaving you to only see a bit of his face, but mostly his un-gelled hair, that had started now falling down from the top of his head.

You unlock the door and swing it open. Rafe lets you be the first one to step in the house and you look back to see if he follows you in, right away.

“Want to go shower?” You ask him, voice soft and so low that it almost fell in a whisper.

He nods, still silent.

You close the door again and Rafe starts making his way to your bedroom, dragging his feet on the ground, mind filled with what only God must know.

You follow him upstairs and as you get in your bedroom, you can already hear the shower starting in the bathroom. You let the backpack fall off your shoulder and look around the room. 

Could’ve been cleaner and more organized, especially your desk, but you got all week to take care of that.

Rafe steps in the shower and the, mostly cold, water falls right on his head and broad shoulders. 

You strip off your shorts and bikini/bathing-suit and, soon, you follow Rafe in the shower.

Your hands touch his back and you see his muscles tense at the slightest of touch. Water runs past your hand and you lean in closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek against his back.

You lay a kiss on his spine and he turns in your hold. You look at him, both of your chests glued together, and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks.

You grin under his sweet touch and he leans down to lay a kiss on your lips. It’s a sweet and slow kiss, almost able to make you turn into a puddle in his hold. His thumbs caress your cheeks as you kiss and you almost gasp as you feel the almost cold water finally touch your, still, dry skin.

“Why in the heck do you shower with water so cold?” You ask against his lips.

He grins at you and you smile, feeling proud of making him stop scowling and actually seem amused.

His hands fall from your face to your shoulders and he pulls back more, looking down at you. His hair is sticking to his forehead and you can’t help but let go of his waist and reach to pull the hair back from his face.

Rafe lets his hands rest comfortably at your sides and you wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.

“Want me to wash your hair?”

He never nodded so quick in his life. 

Ever since you two had showered together for the first time, you had washed each other’s hair. Mostly lost in fits of laughter at the abnormal amount of shampoo on each other’s heads, creating mountains of foam, it was a good time.

Maybe, Rafe wasn’t the best at washing your hair but you sure knew what you were doing when you started washing his. 

He had caught himself being lost in the bliss of the moment at least 3 times, just in the space of 5 minutes. 

The way your fingers and nails worked over his scalp, he felt like he had his own, personal, head-masseuse.

You reach for your shampoo bottle and Rafe takes a seat at one of the corners of the shower/bathtub close to you. His eyes stay on you and your naked form as you open the bottle and turn off the water - not seeing need in it being on for now - and he’s giving complete heart eyes.

You stand between Rafe’s legs and soon enough he feels the cold shampoo hit the top of his head. You put down the bottle, beside him, and his hands hold onto your hips, making you stand closer to him.

Your fingers start working their way through his head and Rafe closes his eyes right away. You smile at him as the foam starts to appear over his soft hair, and he just sits there, welcoming your loving touch, feeling spoiled as all hell with you.

You work your way down to the back of his head and Rafe leans against your torso, arms now completely wrapped around you, shampooed head resting against your skin.

Rafe lays a kiss under your chest, eyes still closed, and you slow your movements, turning the all washing his head to a full-on massage.

He sighs at the feeling and you smile again, letting him pull you in closer to him, head now resting inches away from your naked chest.

You extend the washing of his hair for as much as you can, but after some time, you call Rafe come back to reality.

“You can rinse it now” You whisper to him, not wanting to break the silence of the bathroom, smoothing most of the foam off his head.

Rafe rises on his feet and turns the water back on, knowing that you are completely under the shower head. You gasp at the cold water and a cheeky smile grows on his face.

You poke his side as he pulls you to the side so he can rinse his head and he lets out a laugh as you do it. His laughter echoes off the bathroom tiles and you smile at him again.

The rest of your shower is way quicker. 

You didn’t wash your hair, since you ended up never wetting it with the sea water, so it was just your body. And Rafe helped out with that.

You leaned back against Rafe as he worked his way over your body, his touch never being more than loving. His movements were soft and slow, laying kisses on your neck as his hands worked in every direction.

Your eyes were closed half of the time, loving the feeling of his hands on you while under the water, and Rafe took that to heart, worshipping every inch of your skin.

You step out of the shower once done and Rafe goes into your room to get some of the clothes - that he has left at your house in other visits -, from your wardrobe. While you just put on a shirt and some underwear.

The afternoon ended quickly, the dark sky already meeting you as you look out of your bedroom window and wait for Rafe to finally be done with his hair and walk out of the bathroom so you can have your special dinner.

That being... leftovers from yesterday.

“Babe,” Rafe calls over and you look over your shoulder, finding him turning off the lights in the bathroom. “Let’s go eat.”

You smile and almost run downstairs at his words, leaving him to stare at your excited self, jumping around on your feet in just his shirt.

No surprise that you got to the kitchen before him and quickly started pulling the takeout boxes from the kitchen. 

Rafe soon joins you, laying the cold food over some plates so you can heat it up in the microwave.

You smile as you see him cringe at the noises the cold sauce does as he scrapes the food from the box, and he looks up, finding you extremely amused at his disgust.

He smiles back at you and playfully brings the saucy spoon close to your face.

“Stop,” You giggle and he does it again, waving the spoon close to your face, “I’ll make you eat it cold, Cameron, don’t you dare.”

He laughs at your words and your smile widens at the sound. God, you love this boy.

The microwave beeps and you take a step back from him, going to get one of the plates of food. You take it out and put it down on the counter, reaching to grab the one Rafe just did and doing the same as before, start the microwave.

You help Rafe get rid of the, now empty, takeout boxes and soon enough, the second plate is done.

“Can you grab the forks and knives?” You ask Rafe as you make your way to the plate.

He doesn’t answer but you hear him open the silverware drawer right as you ask him for the help. You put the plates down by the kitchen island and go grab some cups and some drinks.

Rafe sits on one of the highchairs and waits for you to come back to his side. 

You put everything down and walk behind him to sit on the chair right beside his. He pulls your chair in closer to his until your legs are touching and you two start eating, only sharing some words in total small talk.

You finish eating before him and you’re left to watch him devour the rest of the food like a starved man. You giggle sometimes and he always pinches your leg or side for making fun of him.

Soon you two wash the dishes and are left to decide what to do next.

You pull him into the living room couch, and he pulls you to sit on his lap. You do as he wants, legs resting beside his as your hands rest over his shoulder.

And you finally decide to talk.

“Thank you for not fighting, today.” You whisper, close to his face.

His hands stop at the top of your thighs as he hears your words and you tense up, fearing that you just ruined the moment by mentioning what happened back at the beach.

“Why are you thanking me?” He whispers back.

“Because you kept your promise,” You say sweetly leaning close his face, “And I’m really proud of you.”

He shakes his head slightly, taking his eyes off you.

“He still annoyed the shit out of me.” He confesses, scowl coming back to his face, “I wa-”

“But you didn’t hit him” You interrupt, bringing your hands to his cheeks.

You make him turn his head back to you and his gaze softens right away, making you grin at him.

“I’m proud of you, Rafe.” You whisper onto his lips.

His heart skips a beat at your words and a slight smile grows on his face. You kiss his lips and he’s quick to kiss back. His hands start moving again and they rest on your hips, holding you close to him.

“I love you,” You say out loud, pulling away from the kiss, “So much.”

“I love you too” He says it back, pecking your lips quickly, “So much”

A smile grows on your face and you pull him into another kiss, a rougher one. 

His lips mirror your rough movements and his hands squeeze your skin tightly, making you whimper a little against him.

He pulls back and by the hold on your hips, he lays you beside him on the couch and lays his hands on your side as his torso hovers over yours. 

You wrap your legs around his hips and he smiles before reconnecting your lips. Your hands find their way to his hair and soon enough, you’re nothing but lost in each other’s touch.

Hope you liked this! 

I wrote this kinda rushed but just it’s because it’s almost time for ALL my tests and assignments, and I want to post a good amount of stuff before I disappear for those days.

[azucarian]

NEFELIBATA - Takuya Birthday Special

Masterlist No content/trigger warning. Extreme fluff <3

Takuya had grown upset at the possibility of his birthday being forgotten; especially considering his two childhood friends hadn't even raised so much as a 'happy birthday' to him. It's not like he particularly expected a gift - although it definitely would be nice. Tapping his pencil against the desk, he frowned - (Name) was the most attentive person he knew and even she had forgotten? Maybe he failed in making it known beforehand. At this point, he just wanted to go home and curl up into a ball with the birthday cake his mother had baked him.

Now that he thought about it, Makoto had an obsession with the western zodiacs - he always looked on those weird 'zodiac luckiness' websites. Cancer, that's what Takuya's zodiac was - the zodiac of the crab. His 'aligned' personality was about him being loving and full of emotions - but also moody, suspicious and overprotective. He was not moody, he'd like to believe. The thought made him grumpy-

Ah, wait, that'd be right then.

He mentally groaned as the bell signalling the end of the day sounded, and his phone let out the identifiable ping to tell him he'd received a message. Flipping his phone up, (Name)'s contact popped up.

(NAME)-CHAN Mizo Middle headin' out early - we'll see you later Taku-chan! Byebye!

So they had truly forgotten. Takuya felt himself visibly deflate; there goes his final slither of hope. He shrugged, at least he had all of that cake to himself. He began his journey home; the train ride being oddly silent - usually the group of them would rambunctiously play whilst (Name), Akkun and himself would stare judgingly. Until (Name) got annoyed with all the stares from the elderly people and try to beat them up. For someone who didn't fight, Takuya could admit that the girl punched way too hard.

Coming home to an empty house was normal; his parents worked long jobs to provide for them (he actually appreciated their evening absences because of Kiyomasa and his gang, but he no longer feared any of that). But it felt much more empty as he slipped his shoes off- Wait, those definitely were not his shoes.

Sloppily hidden amongst the eco-friendly tote bags, five pairs of shoes were stacked. Four pairs of messy trainers, and one pair of remotely looked after converses. He nearly laughed - so they were here. A surprise birthday party, he guessed. The idiot trio must've gotten side tracked and, in a hurry, (Name) or Akkun shoved the shoes to the side and threw the totes over them.

Takuya guessed he'd humour them after all their effort. Slipping his indoor slides onto his feet and hanging his bag up on the door, he slowly made his way to the living room - and, upon entering the dark room, the lights suddenly flicked on and the distinct sound of party poppers filled his ears (and kind of scaring him, admittedly).

"Happy birthday!" The collective cheer of each person brought a grin to his face; regardless of the under-planned surprise element, he couldn't contain his smile at the sight. Kazushi, Makoto and Takemichi each had several party hats decorating their heads - almost as if they were trying to imitate a crown. Akkun was off to the side with a bright grin and a party popper in his hand. (Name), however, wasn't in sight.

He was about to open his mouth to ask where she was when someone jumped onto his back, arms around his neck "Happy birthday, Taku-chan!" The familiarly cheery voice made him laugh, and he softly thanked them all. The girl of the group eagerly dragged him towards their paper cut out of a birthday cake laid out on the table, surrounded by gifts.

Takuya slowly opened each of them.

From Akkun, a new controller for his gaming console - the boy explaining it as a 'new' method for everyone to play together, instead of taking turns with one controller. He appreciated it, and smiled softly before gently placing it back in the box (promising that he'd play with Atsushi first and foremost).From Makoto, a porn magazine - he slightly sneered at the gift, and the dumb(est) boy began to whine and cry about how 'Takuya didn't like his gift'. Even (Name) sneered and appropriately smacked Makoto on the back of the head with an apologetic smile towards Takuya. The blonde just shook his head and thanked the boy reluctantly (he had definitely thought more of himself instead of Takuya - but it was funny regardless, both Kazushi and Takemichi seemed to think so, too).From Kazushi, a bunch of notebooks, pens and pencils - explaining it to him as a new hobby to pick up. According to him, Takuya looked like the 'artsy poet' type (admittedly, he couldn't help but agree). He tested the glittery gel pens on one of the note books and grinned - they were extremely pretty, perfect for exam note-taking too. He placed them to the side delicately and expressed his gratitude.

He couldn't help but side-eye Takemichi and (Name). Takemichi was someone who would buy an extremely expensively thoughtful gift - it always made him feel guilty for weeks after, because the determined blonde would never allow Takuya to repay him. And (Name)… he visibly sweated. She had no taste in gift giving, and her gift was probably going to be worse than Makoto's - appropriate, but worse. They all exchanged knowing glances as the girl turned around to push Takemichi's gift towards him.

Takemichi had gotten a choker chain; and, as expected, it looked expensive. On the front, 'TAKUYA' was written in cursive with two ruby colored stones either side - if he remembered ride, a ruby was his birthstone. He almost verbally awed, but, instead, opted for hugging Takemichi tightly with an over-the-top thank you. The bleached blonde looked very happy at Takuya's joy."It's time for my gift now, right?" (Name) cheerily reminded, pushing a large box forward "Don't be surprised; I asked for your parents permission too." What? Takuya rose an eyebrow. Parents permission? Whatever it was, the other four didn't seem to know either - they looked just as confused.

She raced out of the room for a few moments before returning with her head poked around the door, hiding her arms behind the door frame "Don't freak out, we have to be quiet." They all nodded "Promise?"

"Promise." They all quietly spoke, and Takuya could feel himself get slightly giddy. Whatever this was, he was excited - and he hoped he wasn't disappointed (he wouldn't be, regardless, because he'd get to jokingly bully her for a bad gift for the rest of her life). She slowly turned and walked in, and the bundle in her arms nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

The cutest puppy was excitedly wagging its tail in her grip, adoringly staring at its new friends jovially. (Name) crouched down and softly placed it against the floor, and they all watched as it clumsily stumbled towards the closest human - Takuya himself. Pressing its wet nose against his arm, its little butt wiggled with the force of its tail.

"How- wha- I don't know how to react-" For the first time in a while, the group watched as an awe-stricken and very visibly shocked Takuya brought the puppy into his arms. (Name) laughed and slid to the floor beside him, gently patting the puppy.

"I spoke to your parents the other day before school about it; they said it'd probably do you good, especially with summer break comin' up. Keep you company, and you can go on walks with her." She explained whilst watching as the other four crowded round, each taking a turn at stroking the soft puppy.

"How the hell did you get her here?" Akkun questioned. It made all of them wonder; yeah, how? She had been with them all day, so how on Earth had she gotten a puppy to Takuya's house without them realising?

(Name) snorted "I asked Mikey-chan and Ken-kun to bring her; they put her in your room, in one of those play pens. Cute little thing was fast asleep but woke up straight away when hearing the door open. She was so excited." Takuya was so in love with this adorable creature that had found its new home in his arms "She ain't got a name, so that's up to you." He lit up, and the group laughed at his expression.

"Rocky." The name sent embarrassment into (Name)'s system, as she profusely rejected the name - completely being ignored by a cackling Takuya.

"Huh, what's so bad about Rocky? Rocky-chan is so cute!" Kazushi protested.

"It's Rocky because the last time me and (Name) hung out alone together, she fell into the river because of the rocks." The laughter from everyone was enough to make (Name) hide her face in her hands, muttering a 'I hate you' endearingly under her breath.

With his new friend and playmate in his hands, Takuya could wholeheartedly say... THIS WAS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER.

TAG LIST @dot0nix @starsandkeysruler @hikkarins @valbedo @notsodeadgirlwalking​

Feel free to ask to be added to the tag list!

HAPPY TAKUYA DAY!! Honestly, as a character, Takuya grew on me progressively - I didn’t like him much when I first started but he definitely got my heart </3 He’s so pretty and sweet (totally didn't mistake him for Mikey at the beginning lmao) ~

A proper update will come out over the weekend - I’m currently looking for work so interviews have been taking up a lot of time. I promise it’ll be out tomorrow/over the weekend! I love you all!

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[chubmins]

candy bear, sweetie pie (i wanna be adored)

cw: feederism, belly kink, weight gain, burping, brief mention of body image regarding jimin’s family, streamer!jimin. 

“hello there... it’s manggae.” 

jimin’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as he laid back on one of his hands and appraised the rapidly growing influx of messages on his live’s chat. they weren’t quick enough that jimin would lose track, but nowadays he would have to scroll back up to catch something he missed a few times. his audience had been growing. 

“you missed me? cute. it’s only been a week.” his full lips stretched in a smile his viewers would be able to see and fawn over. jimin always positioned himself carefully, camera catching him perfectly from the lips down — not because he didn’t want the audience to see his face, they had seen him a handful of times now, but because he wanted his body to be the main focus. 

and his body explained why his nickname on the streaming website was manggaetteok. 

jimin had always liked to eat. growing up in an extremely rich family, food had never been an issue — until it started being taken away from him by parents and nutritionists who believed his chubby cheeks were something to be ashamed of. jimin spent his teenage years on diets, pills and stinky gym bathrooms. he almost started hating his body as much as his parents did. 

until he moved out. was moved out, to be more precise — an apartment bought for him in the heart of gangnam, too big for just one person, way under-decorated to look like a homel. jimin was twenty and out of his parents' claws for the first time in his life. 

it didn’t take him more than a year to figure out the most crucial things about himself: he prefered boys over girls, silk robes and lace over black pressed suits, and he very much prefered to stay home and order food to going out to a new bar every friday night.

jimin turned into the perfect definition of a homebody; and, soon enough, of a foodie. 

he didn’t hold back when it came to food, and the results of his indulgence after years of restriction showed on his body rather quickly. at least his parents were right about one thing — he really was prone to gaining weight, and a lot of it. 

sitting now on the floor of one of the three bedroom’s in his apartment, the one he had slowly decorated to be his streaming studio, jimin weight gain is nothing if not noticeable. nicely placed down on his fluffy baby pink carpet with thighs spread as wide as they would go, his belly hanged almost touching the floor. it looks so soft and pudgy now, bulging forward in an almost perfect round dome even when it’s empty. he has pink stretch marks from the top of his jiggly thighs to right under his belly button, which has gotten deep enough for jimin to fit and poke his entire pinky finger inside. his flabby tits rest nicely on top of his swollen gut, round puffy nipples a pretty light brown on display. 

“remember when i’d dress up all cute and pretty for these lives?” jimin practically purred at the camera, both hands heading to his breasts so he could squeeze and jiggle them while chuckling. “my bras don’t fit me anymore… i need to buy new ones.” 

as if on cue, the silent notification bar that signaled new donations started popping up repeatedly, each time with a different amount of the website’s currency he’d get to convert to real money later. jimin chuckled again, he knew how to play this game too well. he had indeed grown out of most of his fancy silk and lace lingerie, but he also didn’t want to repeat the same ones he’d still fit into. that being said, he had decided on his fit for today as being a pair of baby blue silk shorts that barely covered his ass when he stood up, and a matching silk choker with a small emerald pendant.  

“well, well, look at that! seems like i’ll have some new lingerie to show you guys soon.” His hands moved away from his body before he could get too excited, and moved towards the tray he had off camera. 

with a little bit of maneuvering, he pulled the traw towards himself until it was in between his massive thighs and the camera, positioned just so that his body wouldn’t be too covered up and his belly would still be on display. 

“as you can see” jimin praticaly purred, “i followed your requests and got a full american breakfast. there are pancakes,” he pointed at each and every item as he spoke, mouth watering just thinking about how he was finally going to eat “eggs, sausages, muffins, bagels and a berry smoothie.” 

that was probably enough food to feed a family of four — the chat flooded with excited messages of how they couldn’t wait to see jimin eating it all. at first his viewers’ excitement would startle jimin a bit, but now? now he lived for it. 

after all, he’d always get as excited as them. 

“should i start with the pancakes? they’re still warm.” he asked, reading all the messages he could, all of which were encouraging him to start eating.

jimin reached for the pancakes. there were six of them in total, fluffy and golden brown with melted butter running down on all sides. jimin’s fork was quick to make work through the first three layers as he balanced the plate on top of his belly, and once the big bite was inside his lips he moaned unashamedly. 

“fuck… so good.” he barely finished chewing before he pushed more inside his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss. “i could eat this everyday. imagine how much bigger i’d get.” 

his viewers got off on that, as he came to learn very quickly after starting to stream himself eating. jimin’s primary goal certainly wasn’t to gain weight, but it did keep the cash coming and he didn’t mind the plushness one bit. just a small price to pay for all the food he shoved inside himself, and he did look hot with all the extra pounds. jimin continued to shove the pancakes inside his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing, moaning almost obscenely throughout the whole process. it didn’t take more than five minutes for him to polish the whole stack. 

“kinda wish i had ordered more” he pouted, putting the plate away and lightly slapping his still very empty gut. the donations started popping up again, messages telling him to order more right at that instant, to order ten times more next week. “don’t worry everyone, i still have a lot more to eat!” 

jimin reached for the bagels next — there were 9 of them in a box alongside 4 muffins of various flavours, and jimin had started alternating between them while answering some of his viewers questions. 

“last time i went on a date? that was a couple months ago, actually” he answered between bites of a blueberry muffin. “made him take me to an all you can eat buffet, ate like a pig. had to unzip my pants for dessert and all...” jimin licked his fingers clean, making a little show out of it before reaching for the last bagel and all but eating half of it in one big bite before continuing in a lighthearted tone, cheeks full. “probably freaked him out, he never called again.”

the story was only partially true — taehyung had taken him to an all you can eat buffet for their first date, but he also had called again. they were dating, in fact, but had made an arrangement to keep it from jimin’s subscribers. as much as jimin didn’t mind showing his body and face online for thousands to see, his private life remained private, and he was a firm believer that nobody needed to know his real name, the city he lived in or his relationship status. 

“i need something savory, now. those muffins were really sweet.” jimin sighed, taking a big sip from his berry smoothie. one of his chubby hands played with his belly, caressing around the belly button before lifting the fat mass and letting it fall, sighing at the way it jiggled back into place. the movement dislodged a gas bubble, and he could hear the gurgling noise coming up his throat and feel the pressure on his chest right before letting out a loud belch. 

“oh, yeah… that felt good.” another burp made its way out right then, shorter and deeper than the first one. jimin bit his lip and smiled, playing coy. “excuse me!” 

he reached for the eggs, three full plates with enough spicy sauce on top that it dripped down Jimin’s chin at his first bite. he didn’t clean it at first, too preoccupied with stuffing his face until he could barely chew with his mouth closed. jimin still had a few steps to take before he felt actually full, but his stomach definitely felt a little bit harder at the top, now. he ate the first two plates mostly in silence aside from the casual moans and loud slurps from the berry smoothie, lips feeling tingly and swollen from the spice. 

“you guys remember last time i ate this spicy sauce, right?” jimin smiled, going for the third and last plate. “that day with the ten hamburguers. i downed almost the entire bottle with them, got so gassy afterwards. couldn’t stop burping.” the memory makes his comment session go crazy, talking about how hot it was, how he should do it again. jimin chuckles, happy his viewers don’t mind how much of a pig he can be sometimes.

he continues eating, barely stopping to breathe — there’s still two dishes to get done with, and his stomach is starting to protest about the eggs he just ate.  

“hmm… tummy is talking, you guys hear that?” jimin all but shoves a finger inside his belly button, moving the digit around in a movement that could almost be considered obscene. he feels so good, exposed like this, stomach gurgling away the fullness.

the donations keep coming at a fast rate as jimin keeps eating, pace much slower than when he first started with the pancakes, lips greasy and adorned with crumbles. his hands find his belly a plethora of times, caressing the stretched out skin, pressing against the swelled up gut as he unashamedly lets out moans and sighs of pleasure. that’s how jimin, sooner rather than later, finds himself out of food to eat, only half of his smoothie left. 

“so full…” he groans, leaning back to expose his full, rounded out fat belly. it gurgles audibly then, jumping out in an abrupt movement as jimin’s lips fall open and he belches again, a long and wavering deep noise that sounds both disgusting and relieving. only then he reaches off camera for a tissue box, cleaning his fingers and then his lips and double chin, laughing as he spots some muffin crumbles on his chest and wipes them away carelessly. 

“that was so—” jimin is interrupted by a small burp, cheeks puffing up cutely. “so good. but i can’t help but feel like i could pack more in here.” he pats his belly kinda harshly, the slapping sound loud inside his room. “should i go for 10 pancakes next time? or maybe only have pancakes, a huge stack of them… ah, bet i could eat 20.” 

the chat is, as always, extremely encouraging. the donations start coming at a surprising speed again, some messages attached about how the money is for his future grocery trip and for him to buy double of everything. jimin bathes on the attention for a little longer, answering some questions while trying to soothe his ful, oversized belly, chuckling every now and then and pointing out the gurgling noises it makes as it tries to process all the food he just ate.

he was not lying, though — it does feel like he could pack more if he tried. but that’s a thought for next time, and jimin stores it for next week’s stream as he bids goodbye and claims it’s time for him to get into his food coma and digest so he can come back even fatter. 

“this has been manggae… until next time, guys!”

[migilini]

Could you please write one of those Tiktok "I tried to kiss my bestfriend / crush" challenge for either Charlie or Owen. Thanks!

Crushtok - Owen Patrick Joyner

A/N: Yes ofc I can! I never wrote for Owen so let me know what you think! I hope you like it :)

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: tiktok and noise (so none really)

Requests are open!

MASTERLIST

--------‐--------------

The sun poked through curtains and you swore that you had heard birds the day before but it was loud, uncomfortably so. All you heard was the clacking of metal and the rattling of the machinery that the construction in front of Owens Appartement made. All the unpleasant noises woke you up in the early morning. Grumbling, you tried to block out the noise with a pillow pressed against your face.

"That's not gonna work sleepy beauty" a lower voice croaked, catching you completely off guard so you let out a quiet shriek. "Oweenn why do you have to scare me badly in the morning?" You whined and took the pillow away from your face.

He sat on the other side of the couch, just underneath your feet and looked absolutely tired. His blonde hair was standing up in every possible direction, his normally piercing blue eyes trying their best to stay open. By the way, he was looking at you with a little smirk on his lips, you figured that you didn't look any better.

"Because it's 6 am on a Saturday morning and I didn't want to suffer alone. So lucky you for visiting me this week!" Owen exclaimed and hit your leg in a joking manner.

"I've got thrown out by my landlord. I'm not here on my own terms..." this earned you a shocked gasp from the boy sitting in front of you. "And there I was, thinking this friendship meant something to you." You just rolled your eyes with a smirk.

"Do you want to come back to my bedroom? With some music playing it's much quieter than out here." Nodding tiredly, he held out a hand to help you stand up; you only noticed when you nuzzled into his bed that he didn't let go of your hand.

You woke up a couple of hours later, quiet pop music filled the darkroom and it was hot, your bare legs sticking to the duvet covers. You turned around and faced a back with broad shoulders that were just moments ago pressed against your back. Groaning, you stuck your legs out of the bed, the cold air cooling you down immediately. Owen stirred next to you and sat up slowly.

"Morning part 2." you chuckled and automatically pushed some of his hair out of his face.

"Mornin" he mumbled back.

"You were right it's much quieter in your room."

You stood up, stretching your limbs, before heading back into the living room where all your stuff was stored, quite impractically but it was stored.

You heard a shower running, that gave you the perfect time to change from your big shirt and little pants sleep attire to a more comfortable day outfit. After rummaging through your boxes, that you packed in a freezy, you choose some brown cotton pants with a white body and to top it off your favourite purple cardigan that Owen gifted you one Christmas. With some extra time, you put on your glasses and started to search for a new place to stay.

"So what do you wanna do today? I have nothing going on so..." you stopped listening as Owen walked into the living room shirtless. He wore some blue sweatpants that hung quite low on his hips, his chest still sparkling from the water.

You would have probably started to drool if he wouldn't have worn his hair in a towel bun.

You let out a laugh that made him stop in his tracks.

"What?" he stared at you intensely.

"Oh, nothing princess... nothing. We uh... could look at some apartments for me and just go for a drive?"

"Am I that bad of a roommate?" he said and plopped down next to you on the couch his arm resting on the top comfortably.

"No but I would really appreciate a place to store my stuff properly." you continued to scroll through places to stay.

"This one looks good." he pointed out and put his finger on the screen, you hadn't realised that he rested his arm just above your shoulders so it took you off guard when you suddenly felt his arm on your neck.

"Mhmm, but you cant look at it today... This one though has a viewing in the late afternoon."

"Then that's our plan for today."

++

"Y/N! Y/N!" Owen screamed loudly from the kitchen "Come here real quick."

With your phone still in one hand, you waddled over to your best friend. "What's the emergency?" you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Do this TikTok with me." he pleaded and looked at you with a slight pout, shoving his phone in your face. Your eyes scanned the screen and then you scoffed, "First of all since when are you on lesbian TikTok? And secondly, that's a bit... explicit... don't you think?"

"W- Our lips don't have to touch! I don't have anybody else to do it with! Y/N Come On!" he yelled after your figure who left the kitchen with a shaking head and hot cheeks.

Your thought didn't stop racing for the rest of the day. Did Owen want to kiss you? Or was he just so comfortable with your friendship that he really didn't care? You hated that you were a cliche, falling in love with your childhood best friend. Growing up you were always the one rolling your eyes at your parents who thought that you and Owen would make just such a cute couple but here you were, sitting on his couch, your heart beating in your chest and extremely conscious of his presence.

Little did you know that Owen felt the exact same. Over the years and especially puberty, he started to develop feelings for you. At first, he tried to deny them, telling himself that it's just that he's used to you being around but then he left to pursue his acting career and he missed you more than everything in the world. Not a single day went by when he didn't think of you or tried to call you. Ever since then, he tried to be close to you in one way or the other, he didn't care if it was just his leg touching yours or your body heat warming him up.

Due to the fact that you were both anxious people, neither of you ever made a move. He missed your longing stares and you missed the way he was checking you out every time he looked at you.

His friends finally talked some confidence into him and so he took little steps into what should eventually lead to him confessing his love for you. He started to flirt more with you, give you loads of compliments and asked you if you wanted to do some TikTok or lives with him.

Tapping on your shoulder made you look up from your phone, the TikTok you've been watching looping on your screen. Owen stood next to you, his phone pointed to you, a mischievous smirk prominent on his face and whipped cream can in his other hand.

"No." you tried to be serious but a chuckle escaped your lips. Owen turned the camera to him and sprayed some cream into his mouth then stared at you with squinted eyes, the whipped cream flowing out of his mouth.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds, your brain in overdrive, hands sweaty and heart beating rapidly. An idea washed over you and you tilted your head before leaning in close. Owen's eyes went wide and he nearly choked on the cream. But you weren't gonna kiss him seconds before your lips would have met, you halted. Then you slowly took the can of whipped cream out of his hand and sprayed it all over his head.

"You didn't!" he gasped with a full mouth while you laid on the floor, holding your stomach in laughter. Something wet hit your face that stopped you from laughing further. Owen had a massive grin on his face, one hand dripping slightly and his hair, less creamy.

"Be cautious Joyner" you warned standing up on your tiptoes to be as close to him as possible, your pointer finger pressing into his chest "I know where your bed sleeps."

You tried to back out of the situation, knowing damn well that it can easily get out of hand with you two and a whipped cream match would make a lot of mess. But Owen being the child he is, didn't back out, instead, he ripped the can out of your hand and sprayed it down your back.

The war ended peacefully. The cans of whipped cream, yes you found more cans, laying somewhere in the living room both of you covered from head to toe, breathing heavily. Owen held his hands up in surrender and looked up to your position on the coffee table.

"Ha! I win! Told you I didn't want to do the TikTok." you smiled triumphantly. "I say loser cleans this up." before Owen could protest you sprinted to the shower. Lucky for you he actually started to clean up when you walked out of the bathroom, dressed in comfortable sweats and one of Owens hoodie, your damp hair falling over your shoulders.

"Hey Y/N?" Owen asked somehow nervously. "Yes darling?" you answered with a bad British accent.

"Can you come here for a second?"

"Owen I'm not doing that TikTok with you, you just saw how that ended," you argued but made your way over to him. He stood in the middle of the room, his phone propped up on a shelf.

"You have something on your face." you chuckled and whipped away some dried leftovers from your previous war.

"Can you react to this song? I don't remember where I know it from" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. You furrowed your eyebrows at his odd behaviour just moments ago he was normal and now he acted very strangely.

"Sure." he pulled you in front of him, his hands resting on your shoulders.

'Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle

I can't let you go now that I got it'

“Sounds like BORNS…” you whispered more to yourself than to him and continued to listen to the song “Are you sure you just haven't…” you turned around to face him.

Owen took this as his opportunity to cup your face with both of his hands, softly pressing his lips to yours.

Your breath hitched and it took you a second to realise what was happening. The confidence Owen had just moments ago vanished when you didn't kiss him back immediately. Why should you? You never gave a hint that you liked him like that as well.

Just as he was about to pull away and apologize profusely, you overcame your state of shock. Your arms grabbed his hips to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. You felt him smile against your lips. Your stomach erupted with butterflies, your whole body tingled and your cheeks felt hot.

He was the first one to pull away, resting his forehead on yours. Both breathing heavily, the filming camera was completely forgotten, you looked in each other's eyes.

“I wanted to do that for so long,” you admitted and unconsciously bit your lip. Owen gulped heavily, “Me too but, what the hell! I mean how crazy is that?!”

[quinncupine]

I am so in love with the intimacy a campfire brings! I just had to write something for it and since I just updated my theme, I thought this was fitting! Please sit by the fire with me, roast some s’mores and enjoy!

Cozy by the Campfire

Quinn’s Masterlist

Word Count: 1,283

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X GN Reader

The warm sun had disappeared hours ago, leaving a quiet chill to linger in the air. Izuku had been all too eager to give you his sweatshirt and you'd been all too eager to accept it, inhaling his still strong scent of him while he made the fire. It had been an exhausting day full of hiking and other various excursions. Now that you'd made camp (Izuku had a little bit a lot-of trouble pitching the tent), you could finally sit down and relax.

Once the flames were steady and the first wave of heat drifted over to you, Izuku brushed off his hands and sat on the log next to you. With a content sigh, you cozied up to his side as he wrapped an arm around your form.

"It's so peaceful out here," he murmured, gazing into the bright flames. "So different from the city."

"See, aren't you glad we took this trip?" stretching your neck up, you peered at him. "Everyone needs a break every now and then, even heroes."

He hummed in agreement, resting his head on yours. After a long day of activities, it was nice to finally just sit in comfortable silence, watching as the flames slowly dwindled into soft red embers, leaving a soft glow about the site.

"It's ready," Izuku perked up, almost startling you as he reached into the bag sitting by his feet.

"What is?"

From the bag, he produced a box of Graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. A giddy little grin on his face as he ripped the marshmallow bag open and pulled two of them out.

"S'mores?"

"Yeah, I've always wanted to try them," he glanced at you, holding up a marshmallow. "Want one?"

"You're missing the sticks," you said, sitting up and adjusting the oversized sweatshirt around you.

Two thin strands of Blackwhip popped from his arm and stabbed through the puffy treat.

"Uh, that works too I guess." You curled up next to him as he extended the whip over the fire. "Wait, so you've never had a s'more before?"

"I've never really gone camping before," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not like this anyway."

"Well you seem like you know what you're doing," you eyed the drooping tent with a smirk. "Well, mostly."

"I did my research." Then he eyed the tent too. "Well, mostly."

"Of course you did," lightly punching his arm, you laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

With the red glow of the dying fire, you almost missed the blush on his cheeks. He really wanted to impress you with his camping skills., or knowledge of them anyway. The life of a pro hero was extremely busy which left little time to spend with you and you had accepted that, but he still made it his mission to spend that time in the best possible way. So he rearranged his schedule with the help of a few friends and packed the two of you away for a weekend retreat in the woods, away from the busy city life. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect weekend.

"Right here," you grabbed his arm, shifting it slightly to the left, over a bed of hot coals. "This spot'll give you the perfect golden marshmallow. Keep turning it slowly."

Izuku nodded, that hard look of determination scrunched on his face as he dutifully did as instructed. In a matter of minutes, he pulled Blackwhip back with two golden gooey marshmallows on the end.

"Look at that, a natural." Grinning, you plucked one off and popped it in your mouth.

"Hey!" he laughed, holding the second one out of reach as you made for it too. Before you could grab it, he quickly popped it into his mouth and gave you a sticky smile. "Very gooey," the hero said as he thoughtfully chewed on it. "But so good."

"Wait till you try the s'more." Grabbing the bag, you poked two more on Blackwhip and aimed his arm towards the dying fire. "They're a hundred times better."

Taking control over his arm, you cooked the sweets to golden perfection, casually humming as you did so. While the marshmallow was roasting, you opened his free palm and laid out the crackers and chocolate. Izuku sat quietly, watching you with a charmed little smile on his face as you worked.

"Okay, they're done!" Patting his arm, Izuku reeled Blackwhip back in.

In a few quick seconds, you sandwiched the little golden treats between the crackers and chocolate and pulled them off the makeshift stick.

"Behold, the perfect s'more," you beamed, proudly holding it up for him to see. "Now all that's left is to try it." As you said it, you brought the dessert up to his mouth, waving it around a bit. "Open up."

He hesitated for just a moment, glancing from the s'more to your grinning face before he cautiously took a bite. It was a messy experience and half the cracker broke off. He caught it right before it hit the ground, but then a second part of the cracker broke off and he frantically tried to catch that one as well. You laughed and accidentally shoved the s'more into his face, smearing the gooey treat all over his nose.

"Whoops!" you pulled the s'mores back but only laughed more when he tried to look down his nose at the clump of marshmallow now stuck on the end of it. "I'm sorry!" though it didn't sound very sincere through your fit of giggles.

He poked the gooey mess and grinned. Before you could register what happened, he grabbed the s'more from you and scooped out a large chunk of marshmallow, then smeared it across your nose to match him. The sudden act caught you off guard and you tipped backward off the log. Izuku caught you as you went down but the momentum dragged you both into the grass.

The two of you landed on your sides in a flurry of giggles and groans. Grass tickled your face as you turned to look at Izuku lying beside you with those wide emerald eyes of his. In the fall, a small little clover must've gotten stuck to the end of his nose like a little ornament.

"Well?" you asked when you finally quelled your giggles. "Did you like it?"

He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, fingers lingering on your burning cheek. "I loved it."

Lying there, you took in the beautiful sight of him, hair still messy from the hike earlier today, face seemingly relaxed and stress-free for once, and the warmth of his hand slowly tracing little circles on your skin. Sometimes you forgot how lucky you were to have someone as sweet and caring as Izuku, even when heroing brought him to his limits, he would always still be there for you with whatever you needed.

Shifting closer, you leaned in to pluck the clover off his nose. "Three leafed. Good luck you know."

"Isn't it supposed to be a four-leaf that brings good luck?"

"But there are way more three-leaf clovers so I decided that they were my good luck charms. That way I have luck all the time." Holding it up for him to see, "and look what I was so lucky to have found." Then you kissed his nose, tasting what remained of the marshmallow. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Izuku blinked and smiled so wide you thought he might crack his face. "100%. I guess that makes me the luckiest man in the world." He didn't give you a chance to respond as he took the clover and stuck it on the end of your nose with a kiss.

Taglist: @dorki-time @thecindy @miriobaby @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya @rat-zuki

[harrywritingsbyme]

Dibs

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I love this concept, like it gives me major couple goals vibes and I can just see this happening with Harry and Y/n. It’s a sweet -n- spicy lil piece for you guys...Enjoy🙃

You and Harry were constantly calling dibs. From the beginning of your relationship, to now five years later where you two are a year and a half into your marriage, you and Harry are still trying your hardest to secure what’s yours. These sudden and hasty proclamations ranged from who was riding shotgun to who was going to be on the top or bottom during sex and everything else in between. The both of you just loved the little competition when it came to who would secure whatever it was first. And it didn’t hurt that whoever won got to bask in the saltiness of the others loss. Now while the primary means to secure what you wanted was through the immediate calling of dibs, sometimes you and Harry took measures that were a little bit on the extreme side to secure what was yours.

Depending on what it was, either you or Harry (whoever got to it first) would lick it to really claim it as yours. This time it was Harry. The both of you had decided to stop and pick up a dozen of donuts on the way home from your much needed grocery run two days ago. And within those two days, the once plentiful box of delicious donuts had dwindled down to one delicious donut that was sure to be a subject for squabbling between you and Harry. Once you two had your routine round of warm, messy, and absolutely amazing morning sex along with your post sex cuddles and chat, the both of you figured that it was time to head downstairs for some breakfast. So you and Harry threw some type of clothing on your bodies before journeying downstairs on wobbly legs to the kitchen with a mission of breakfast in your heads. As soon as the two of you stepped foot into the kitchen, both you and Harry made a b-line for the box containing the final donut. While you were ripping the lid off, Harry was shoving his hand in to latch onto the final pastry. And before you could even try to fight him for it, he was bringing it up to his parted lips where he had his tongue out and ready to lick the donut and claim it as his. 

“I licked it, so it’s mine!” Harry announces triumphantly before placing it back into the box. He was so proud of himself in that moment that he was doing little fist pumps in his head. After securing “his” donut back inside the box, Harry makes his way over to the fridge to figure out what you two were going to do for breakfast. Now while he had his head stuck inside the refrigerator, you had other plans. You weren’t going to let a tiny lick come between you and that donut. You simply pluck the box back open and you reach in to grab the donut that Harry thought was secured as his. Without wasting any time, you bring the donut up to your mouth and you take a nice bite out of it. And as if it was all perfectly timed, Harry straightens himself back up right and closes the refrigerator as you pull the pastry away from your mouth to chew. “I was thinking that we could-“ Harry couldn’t even get his sentence out once he saw you leaning against the counter with the donut that he claimed as his in your hand. And to make things worse, it had a big gash from where you sank your teeth into it.

“You think we could do what?” You ask him nonchalantly. You were trying to hold back the smirk that was dying to spread across your face at his shocked and a little pouty facial expression.

“Heeeyy!!” Harry whines at you. “I licked it, that’s gross.” Harry continues with a whine. Harry had a big pout on his face now and it actually made you feel a little bit bad. It wasn’t like you were going to eat the whole thing. Just a bite.

“Babe, if suckling your dick, you spitting in my mouth, or letting you cum in my mouth doesn’t gross me out, do really think that a tiny lick can?” You say back to him matter of factly. At that point, you’d lost all your willpower to fight back your smirk. That smirk was was also mixed with a very amused smile at Harry’s idea that a tiny lick to the donut would stop you.

Now while you continued to silently gloat about your victory and take in the donut that was now yours, Harry was figuring himself out. He went from pouting about the donut to being turned on at how filthy you were. He knew that you did these things but hearing it all come straight from your mouth hit him on a completely different level. Your words hit him so hard that his thighs immediately tensed up and his cock began to harden in an instant. The way the words flowed right out of your mouth was borderline euphoric to him. Your words managed to unlock memories where you had your mouth around him and you let him finish in your mouth before swallowing it all. Your words also unlocked memories where he had a hand around your throat or cupped around your chin as he spit down into your mouth. His mind was instantaneously flooded with these things simply because you said it. You were able to make a little mess out of Harry with less than 30 words. 

In this short moment of silence between the two of you, you knew exactly what was running through Harry’s head. Whenever you showed him the side of you that was more outspoken when it came to things of a sexual nature, Harry never failed to get worked up and flustered. You knew that he was getting hard and was going to need a little help. Luckily for him, you were more than willing to lend a helping hand. And mouth. After letting your words marinate in his head for a little bit, you decide to finally take control of the situation and poke him a little more. You sit the partially eaten donut on top of the now empty and closed box before making your way over to where Harry was standing in front of the refrigerator. You bring your hands up to his bare shoulders and you begin to move them around his upper chest area, breaking him out of the trance you previously put him in.

“If anything,” you begin, tilting your head back to look him right in the eye. “I think it tastes even more delicious now.” You hum up to him, continuing to rub your hands against him and lowering them down a bit with every stroke.

“Can I have a bite?” Harry asks lowly through one of his slightly labored breaths. This was about all he could say. What else could he say to the woman that singlehandedly put the solidness of his sanity into question with one sentence?! 

“Of course! I just wanna taste it with a little cream first.” You reply back to him, bringing your hands the rest of the way down to the elastic band of his boxers and pushing your fingers beneath it. You then sink down onto your knees in front of him and hook your fingers around the waistband before tugging the fabric down his thighs, leaving them to pool around his ankles. “Do you mind?” You quickly ask him as you wrap your hand around his hardening cock. You made sure to put on an innocent persona to drive him even crazier. And it definitely did the trick because as soon as the question left your mouth, you received a feverish shaking of the head from Harry begging you to continue. 

Even though you were going to suck him off, his response was all you needed to jump right in. After giving his soft yet solid shaft a couple tugs, you bring your mouth in and you wrap your lips around the pretty and thick crown of his cock. 

“Oh my-fuck.” Harry breathes out. He was so relieved to feel your warm mouth on his cock. You felt so good that he had to reach out and grasp one of the handles on the refrigerator for support. Keeping your hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, you begin to sink your mouth further down onto him. When you reach your hand you let go and you continue taking him. As the confines of your mouth transitioned over to the even tighter confines of your throat, Harry’s grip got even tighter. You were taking him so deep that once you’d taken all of him inside, you let out a little gag and your nose brushed against the hairs that were surrounding his cock. While you hold him there for a few seconds, you reach up to give his balls a good squeeze before pulling your mouth up and off of his cock.

“You’re a mouth and throat full.” You pant, licking up the string of your saliva that was connected to your lips and the tip of him before spitting back down onto his glistening head. Continuing to massage at his balls, you bring your hand back to his shaft and you begin to tightly work it up and down. You twist your hand up and down his shaft, making sure to stop at his pretty prink head whenever you reached the top. You’d cup your hand there and you’d circle your palm around him and you’d even circle the tip of your finger around, making sure to get the lower edge of the oh so sensitive head and the extremely sensitive and leaky slit. Every time you pushed the upper part of the pad of your thumb into his slit, Harry get extra whiney and begin to buck into your hand a little. You loved this. You had all the power and Harry was more than fine with it. “I can’t wait to get some of this cream.” You whisper excitedly. You push his cock up a little bit towards his stomach so that you could show his balls some love. “And this is where it is.” You continue before lowering your head and widening your mouth a bit to suck one of them into your mouth. 

“Holy shit Y/n!” Harry groans, enjoying the feeling of your mouth suctioning around one of his balls. It felt even better when he realized that you were trying to milk his cock. The way you sloppily slobbered all over his cock and balls the way he liked it was definitely pushing him closer to the edge. Once you’ve suckled on both of his balls and you’ve gotten them nice and wet, you lick a wide stripe up the underside of him, following the thick vein thick vein that trailed all the way up. 

“Your cock is so pretty when it’s wet.” You admire, pulling back a bit to take in his sopping wet cock. When you say this, his cock twitches causing you to let out a little laugh. “I take it someones ready to cum. Huh?” You state before wrapping your lips around his swollen head and looking up to him for a response.

“So ready.” Harry whimpers, feeling the very familiar burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. Since only the head of his cock was in your mouth, you could feel his shaft jumping around a bit more. When the twitches become closer together, you lift your hands up and you begin to massage at the backs of his thighs, making sure to curl your hands inwards towards his sensitive inner thighs. You even bring them up to give his ass (that he was clenching pretty hard by the way) a squeeze. Your hands on his thighs and backside along with the feeling of your tongue pushing into his slit did it for Harry. His knees became weaker and his grip on the refrigerator door became tighter as he completely let go inside your mouth. When you feel his cum beginning to pour into your mouth, you delightedly hum around him, prompting Harry to let out a whimper from how sensitive he was. 

After he’s all done, which takes a while since he came a lot, you pop your mouth off of him before quickly lifting yourself up from the floor. While Harry was panting from the massive release he just had, you take the opportunity to cup his cheeks and smear your lips onto his. While you do this though, you push some of his cum out of your mouth and into his. You then quickly pull away and sprint over to the box to pick up the now long forgotten donut. When you come back over, before taking a bite for yourself, you lift it up for Harry to bite off a bit first.

And judging by the delighted hums from the both of you, it tasted pretty good with a little cream. 

Masterlist

[fridayfirefly]

Hardcore Hide-and-Seek

Read Hardcore Hide-and-Seek on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 27 - Contest

There was a dull ache behind his temples that just wouldn't go away. The harsh, bright lights of his computer screen and the fact that he hadn't slept in almost 36 hours combined to give Tim a headache so powerful he could barely think.

"Sweetheart. Honeybunch. Cupcake. Darling." Marinette poked him in the shoulder after each pet name. "You need to go to bed now before you pass out on the keyboard." She gently pulled on his arm, guiding him away from the computer.

"Not yet. Give me... two more hours."

"No way. You need to sleep."

"I just need to finish this one program to search and identify every pedestrian walking by all five of Jason's safehouses, get it up and running, and check it for bugs. Then I can go to sleep."

Marinette groaned. "Nine hours, that's all I'm asking."

"You know how much can be done in nine hours? In nine hours Damian will have checked half of The Bowery, Cass and Steph will have combed through all of Crime Alley, and Dick and Babs will have hacked their way into every street-facing camera in Gotham."

"First of all, you're not going to find Jason if you're too tired to think straight. Second, finding Jason first means nothing if you're too tired to catch him." Marinette rolled her eyes. "Third, I think this whole contest is ridiculous. I swear, you Bats play the weirdest games."

"It isn't weird. It's good practice for our tracking abilities," protested Tim.

"It's extreme hide-and-seek tag, that's what it is. Now get to bed. If you get nine hours of sleep tonight, I'll help you catch Jason tomorrow morning."

"Fine." Tim cast one last longing look at the computer before Marinette pulled him out of the Batcave.

----------

The light of morning woke Tim up, reminding him that he had been too tired the night before to set an alarm. "What time is it?"

"It's nine in the morning. You were right that Cass and Steph searched through Crime Alley. They checked all three of Jason's safehouses but found nothing. Damian got sidetracked by an armed robbery while searching through The Bowery and was barely able to check a few blocks. Dick and Babs got access to the traffic camera and the video of two different security companies, but they weren't able to get any of your facial recognition programs to run on any of the feeds."

"Wait, what?" asked Tim, still not fully awake.

"I was serious about helping you. I don't do anything halfway," said Marinette.

Tim sat up, "That's great! Our odds of winning triple when we team up. What were you saying about Babs and Dick?"

"They can't get your facial recognition program to run."

"That's because I tweaked some of the code right at the end to require a confirmation from my laptop. That way if any of my codes fall into the wrong hands, I'll know." Tim grabbed his laptop off of his desk and opened it. A pop-up appeared in the corner of the screen.

[user: Babs requests access for FACIAL RECOGNITION]

There were three options underneath: YES, NO, and IMITATION RUN. Tim clicked the third.

"What does imitation run do?" asked Marinette.

"It will go through to all of the video feeds, but it won't actually flag anything. It will just run passively. Dick and Babs, however, won't know that."

"Clever. That should set Dick and Babs back. Now how are we going to find Jason?"

"Jason knows that we have programs to monitor anywhere where there are security cameras. That means he'll be staying away from traffic cameras. He's lying low - probably in a safehouse."

"Cass and Steph checked all three of the safehouses in Crime Alley," objected Marinette.

Tim shook his head. "Jason has more than three safehouses in Crime Alley. Those three are just the ones we know about."

"How are we going to find these safehouses?" asked Marinette. "If there's one thing Jason's good at, it's disappearing."

"That's the problem. Jason only has to last three more days before he wins. It's entirely possible for him to just hole up in his safehouse and never leave."

"On the other hand, that means that we've got him cornered once we figure out the location of his safehouse."

Tim nodded. "Let's get searching."

The problem with finding a safehouse is that there isn't much to do once a person is successfully hidden inside. It's impossible to search every single building in all of Crime Alley (though Steph and Cass together were giving a remarkably good effort of scouring for signs of Jason), so Tim and Marinette took a different approach.

"I designed the burner phones that all of the Bats use in our safehouses, which is how I know for certain that there are no trackers in them. However, if I send out a system update, they all update automatically. When the update is installed, it will send back a confirmation to the main servers. I can trace that message back to figure out the location of all of the burner phones."

"How long will that take?"

"Half an hour to get everything ready to send out a system update. Fifteen minutes after that before all the phones are updated and send their confirmation messages. From there we can start checking safehouses."

Marinette grinned. "See, I told you that you would think better with a full night of sleep."

"You were right," Tim admitted.

"You start the system update, I'm going to make breakfast."

Marinette left the bedroom and Tim wondered how he got so lucky as to have her with him.

----------

After collecting the locations of all the safehouse burner phones and cross-checking the results with the list of known safehouses, there were five unconfirmed safehouses left.

"Two in Crime Alley, two in The Bowery, and one in East End," reported Tim.

"Let's hit East End first, then move onto The Bowery, and end in Crime Alley," Marinette formulated the plan over a plate of pancakes. "What are the official rules to this game, anyway?"

"Jason got twelve hours to hide. Then we get five days to track him down and tag him. The winner gets to drive the Batmobile anytime Bruce isn't in town for the next six months."

Marinette playfully rolled her eyes. "Of course the prize is driving the Batmobile." Getting up from her finished breakfast, Marinette started putting on her coat and shoes. "Come on, Tim, let's go win you Batmobile privileges."

The apartment in East End was empty, save a few rats that scurried across the hallway of the apartment. Marinette wrinkled her nose and she peered out the grimy window. "Who's safehouse do you think this was?"

Tim fished a half-empty carton of cigarettes out of a drawer in the kitchen. "Jason's, probably, but given the amount of dust in here, I don't think he's been here for a while."

The brick house in The Bowery was a little cleaner but still abandoned. The little front yard was half dirt and half weeds. Pinned up on a bulletin board in the front hallway was an empty postcard decorated with the logo for Haly's Circus. Tim concluded that it was Dick's safehouse and they moved onto the next safehouse. It was in an apartment complex in Crown Point, the seediest district of The Bowery. It was stocked with knives, guns, and a box of neatly labeled poisons.

"Damian's safehouse?" guessed Marinette. "He's the only one I could see having poison kept on hand."

Tim nodded, "Probably."

The second-to-last safehouse was on the border between The Bowery and Crime Alley. It was small and run-down, but it seemed that at one point it had been well-maintained. The mailbox was hand-painted yellow, with blue letters reading: The Brown's.

"Stephanie's old house," said Tim, realization.

"Sentimental choice for a safehouse," noted Marinette.

It felt wrong to enter the house that Steph grew up in, so they moved on from it. There was no way Jason was inside, not when Steph and Babs had already search the known safehouses in Crime Alley.

Tim sighed as they drove to the last location. "We've only got one safehouse left to check. I'm not sure what we'll do if Jason isn't in it." Tim had forgotten to consider that Jason might have gotten a burner phone from somewhere else, other than the supply cupboard in the Batcave.

"If he isn't there then we'll go back to the drawing board, I suppose. But don't lose hope yet. I have a good feeling about this one," Marinette reasoned.

The final safe house was a nondescript apartment building: brown brick exterior, cigarette butts on the sidewalk, and grimy windows.

"Do you think this is it?" asked Marinette.

Tim shrugged. "We'll just have to find out."

There were eight apartments in the building, four on the first floor and four on the second. Tim and Marinette quickly swept the first floor, but none of the apartments were Jason's. They then moved to the second floor. Tim quickly picked up on a dusty footprint on the carpet. He recognized the tread-marks from the bottoms of Jason's shoes. "Second door on the left," whispered Tim. "You head outside and make sure he doesn't escape through the windows."

"I'll let you tag him," Marinette whispered in response, slipping down the stairs.

Tim waited a full minute for Marinette to get into position, then crept up to the door. Taking a deep breath, Tim waited for the moment to feel right. Then another breath. Bang!

Tim broke through the door, revealing Jason sitting on the bed, scrolling on his phone.

Jason swore and reached for the gun on the bedside table, but he didn't get a chance to fully react before Tim tagged him out.

"Goddammit!" Jason threw the gun on the bed in frustration. "How did you find me?"

"Burner phone," chimed in Marinette as she popped through the window.

"You said they didn't contain trackers," Jason accused.

"They don't. But when I issued a system update, they all sent a confirmation which I was able to track," Tim said smugly, trying not to gloat too hard.

Jason whipped open a drawer in the cramped kitchen and pulled out the burner phone, tossing it to Tim. "Next time, I'm picking out my own burner phone."

"If it wasn't the phone, we'd have found something else. Admit it, we were good," said Marinette.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Good job, Replacement. You too, Pixie Pop."

"See you at home," Marinette chirped. "Now that this silly contest is over, I have Tim to myself for the next two days. No more sharing his with his computer."

Tim smiled at the thought of finally spending time with Marinette. "Let's go."

"I thought you'd never ask."

@maribatmarch-2k21