#if my content has something smiling in it im tagging it with :) from now on

[luasumas]

staying warm

[parfaitblogs]

state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :(  avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.

Seventeen times.

That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend. 

Or, rather, your cat did. 

You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided. 

But you did not love him, and he did not love you. 

Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid. 

He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.

He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything. 

At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you. 

Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold. 

You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along. 

Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence. 

"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.

"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."

You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."

"That's just Morgan."

"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.

"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.

But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.

You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.

He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing. 

Should be, but weren't. 

You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were. 

"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh. 

"To what?"

"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.

"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses. 

"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.

"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."

Oh, you had a few ideas why.

"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence. 

"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."

"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?" 

"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.

It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him. 

Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.

"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."

"Why? I have yours."

"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."

He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said. 

Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?

"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."

"What do you mean?"

"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."

For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you. 

"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."

"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"

"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"

"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess, dating."

"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."

"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"

"I guess?"

"So now we're dating."

"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.

"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.

"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop. 

He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you. 

"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"

You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke. 

"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.

"That's what I want too," he answers. 

"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"

He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual. 

"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."

Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."

"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."

"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."

"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."

Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it. 

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere. 

"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."

"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"

Well, when he asks you like that.

"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.

"Thank you."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[luvyeni]

HALLUCINATION ,, 양정인

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jeongins love for you is too strong …  ヾ

stalker!양정인・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎3.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . stalking , delusions , jeongin isn’t well at all , sex ( sorta ) , he’s basically in a delusion the entire time he’s with you THIS IS A DARK FIC IF YOU DONT LIKE IT DONT READ IT

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 just something i wrote because hallucination is my favorite solo off the album …

he loved everything about you; the way you looked, when your eyes would crinkle when you smiled. the way you smelled, like warm sugar cookies or vanilla. the way you dress — god he loved the way you dress, the real low waist jeans that showed off your hips, a small heart tattoo on the left side of them; the shirts you wore that accentuate your curves and lifted your boobs

and his absolute favorite was the miniskirts you wore; he hated when you wore them outside, he hated that the people could see such beauty for free. it made him so mad when you’d bend over and all the boys would eye your ass, it made him want to rip their eyes out. you were his, how dare they objectify you like that — they didn’t deserve to see you all dressed up like that , that should be for him, and only him.

he couldn’t look at other girls; they were like blank faces when they tried to talk to him, their voices all sounding the same, which was annoying and screechy. but not you he, he could listen to you talk all the time, no matter the subject. hated them; all of them. he only had eyes for you, he devoted himself to you. “jeongin what are you staring at?”

he turned to hyunjin, confused. “huh?” he he asked, seungmin scoffed. “you’re staring at her again aren’t you? give it up, she doesn’t know you.” he was quick to fight back. “she does know me.” he said matter factly. “we’ve talked.” he said. “once.” hyunjin replied. “and she didn’t even call you by your name, she called you another guys name because she thought you were him, and now you’ve convinced yourself you’ll be with her.”

hyunjin wasn’t wrong; you hadn’t talked to him since that one time you called him jaehyun, but he could tell right then and there you were destined to be together, and you were gonna be together. “that’s because we are gonna be together.” he collected his stuff, standing up. “you just wait and see.” he walked away. “he does know he can’t just stalk her on social media and from afar right? he actually has to talk to her?” seungmin said.” hyunjin shook his head. “you know how he is, you can’t tell him anything.”

so what he actually never talked to you? how dare they doubt your love for each other. so what if you've never actually talked to him? you said it with your eyes and your body? why would you wear such provocative outfits if it wasn’t for his eyes. you were sending him a message. “excuse me?” he looked up from his phone. “i said are you gonna take my order?” his eyes widened and he was frozen in shock. “oh i know you.” your sweet soft voice. “jaehyun right?” close enough for him. “no that’s not right…” you said, looking at his name tag. “jeongin, hi jeongin.” he couldn’t speak, you were actually talking to him. “are you gonna take my order jeongin or are you just gonna stand there.” he could hear the teasing tone in your voice, indicating you were joking with him. “oh-oh um yea.”

“just two coffees please.” he nodded his head, ringing up your order. “mo-move to that line.” he stuttered. “thanks.” you gave him a smile before walking away with your friend. “jeongin back to work.” he quickly continued his work, smiling to himself … you said his name.

“that was weird to do you know him?” your friend asked as you walked away, you turned back to look at the boy. “im pretty sure i had mistaken him for the guy i bought the essay from.” you said. “i don’t know him , know him.” you said, picking up the coffee. “the way he looks at you is weird.” she said. “oh come on you don’t even know him, how can you label him like that.” you said. “you are so naive.” she said. “it’s gonna get you in so much trouble.” you just smiled. “please what can he do? look how harmless he is.”

if you only knew what a boy with a mind like jeongin could truly do…

as a kid jeongin always had a vivid imagination; like really vivid, while he was watching cartoons, the tiny animations would jump out of the tv and keep him company throughout the day. he parents would always ask him who he was talking to and as a kid he would answer and they thought it was pretty cute — but him saying that at 15 is way different then him saying it at 4. he learned quick to never tell people about his visions unless he wanted to be bullied.

he didn’t see anything wrong with his visions; he’d grown used to them as he got older coming into adulthood, but the world did so he kept quiet — especially when he met you.

“you like me don’t you?” you sat on his bed, wearing his favorite outfit. “you think im pretty?” he sat on the bed, nodded. “of course i like you.” he said. “and who doesn’t think you’re pretty? tell me and i’ll kill them.” you chuckled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “you’re so cute innie.” he loved when you called him that. “i just love you so much.” your hand traveling down to his neck. “yo-you look so pretty.” he sighed, you hummed. “yeah?” your hand landing on top of his hardening cock. “you’re so hard.” you palmed him in your hand. “so big.”

he hissed, his hand covering yours; moving along with yours. “fuck.” he moaned. “your hand feel so good.” he bucked up. “i want you to fuck me.” you whispered in his ear. “don’t you want to fuck me?” he whimpered. “i do -oh fuck- i do so bad.” his breathing heavy. “im gonna cum.” he said. “gonna cum so much.” his voice was strained. “please let me cum.” his hand moving with yours. “cum for me innie.” he gasped out , cumming. “oh fuck fuck fuck.” his legs were shaking; he saw little white dots in his eyes as he came. “fuck yn i love you so much, so fucking much.” he repeated over and over.

*ring* *ring* *ring* his eyes shot open; he was alone… there was no one there in his apartment; like he always was. he didn’t even allow his friends to come over. who the fuck interrupted him like this? “shit.” he looked down, the wet stain in his pants from his orgasm. he picked his phone up; answering it. “what?”

“what the hell were you doing, i have been calling you for 45 fucking minutes.” he heard seungmin said. “45 minutes?” he looked at the clock; had he been in his own head for that long. “i was busy; working on a paper.” he said. “what do you want?”

“yeah whatever, just wanted to let you know chan is throwing a party tonight.” seungmin said. “and since you don’t even let your own friends into your apartment I just wanted to know if you’re coming?” he was about to say no but seungmin beat him to it. “that girl will be here, yn or whatever her name is, maybe you’ll finally grow a pair of balls and talk to her.” the older boy said. “so you coming or what?”

he could finally see you again; maybe even talk to you. “yeah i’ll be there.” he said, standing up from his bed. “then get your ass over here so you can help set up.” and with that he hung up the phone. what was he gonna wear? he needed to impress you. “ugh.” he felt the sticky remnants in his pants… but first he needed a shower.

you didn’t mind a party; it wasn’t your favorite thing, to get blacked out drunk and have a freshman trying to get cool points grinding on you, but you did dabble in them here and there — especially when your friend knew the host. “he’s the ta in my class he’s really cool.” she said as you walked through the party. “is he really, or is it because you find your face in his lap after class?” your friend gasped. “hey i don’t not have my face in his lap after class.” your friend held her chest, before she smirked. “it’s the other way around.”

“bitch.” you both laughed, making your way into the kitchen to grab a few drinks. “told him i was gonna bring a friend, he said he was was bring his friend. he’s around your age, quiet and pathetic.” she said. “you know how you like them.” rolling your eyes. “that isn’t even true.” you took a sip of the spiked punch. “oh please, you want a guy to worship you. this guy will chan said, he said he’s the nicest guy you’d ever met apparently.” she scoffed. “which i think is bullshit because at the end of the day he is a man.” you chuckled, your friend was something else. “well he seems sweet.”

“there you are.” chan greeted the boy as he met up with him. “hey hyung.” he finally made it to the party. “how are you? almost thought you weren’t gonna make it; seungmin said he couldn’t get ahold of you.” he looked around for you. “oh i was working on a paper.” he said; it wasn’t like he could say he was having a daydream of you so vivid he came in his pants, only to be woken up much to his demise. “hey you good? you look tired.” the elder boy wrapped his arms around his shoulder. “im fine hyung, really.”

“good cause i got someone for you to meet.” he really didn’t want to meet anyone new; especially since he was only really here for you; where were you? did you get here yet? he wondered what you were wearing. a dress? pants? — or a tiny skirt that he could easily flip up and fuck you in front of everyone, claiming you; ready to kill anyone who looked at your body. “jeongin.” chan pulled him out of his thoughts. “i said you ready? she’s a really nice girl.”

he couldn’t say no to his hyung; so he followed him. he’d just let whoever it is talk while he waited for you; where were you anyway? “he finally shows up, didn’t know jerking off takes that long.” seungmin said, the guys laughing. “stop it , here they come.” chan said. “hey welcome, im chan.” he definitely didn’t want to be doing this. “im yn.” he whipped around, and there you stood in all your beauty; its like you got even more beautiful since the last time he saw you — which was like a few days ago. “are you stalking me?”

your light hearted smile; made his heart flutter, he almost didn’t hear what you said. “you two know each other?” chan asked, confused. “technically i only learned his name a few days ago, but i accidentally mixed him up with someone else one day.” you held your hand up. “nice to meet you properly.” chan pushed his shoulders; nudging his head towards you. “o-oh h-hi.” he hesitantly took your hand, shaking it. “he’s shy, don't worry.” chan said. “it’s fine.” you said. “do you want to go get a drink with me?” you took initiative, trying to make him less nervous. “go with her, don’t just stand there.” chan whispered. “su-sure.”

“good, come on.”

he followed behind you; you smiled waving at different people as you made your way back into the kitchen. “here.” you handed him a cup. “i-i can pour it.” he said, you nodded, he poured his cup, and topped yours off. “thank you.” you took a sip. “what are you in school for?” this was the longest he ever been in your space; your warm vanilla scent made him feel at ease. “oh um business.” he said you nodded. “im going for children’s studies, i want to be a teacher.” you smiled to yourself. “i love children.” he could listen to you speak forever; in fact he wish he could record you and then that way he could play it all day through his headphones. “im so sorry, i talk too much.”

he shook his head. “no-no i don’t mind at all.” he said, not wanting you to stop. “well thank you for listening to me, most people think i talk too much.” who dared to say something like that about you; he’d kill them. “it’s fine with me.” he said.

he felt like he was in heaven for the next hour; talking to you about everything, you were so lively; the way your hands moved animatedly when you explained something; he became a lot more relaxed as he sipped on his drink. “let’s dance.” you said; you were much more tipsy than he was; but clear headed enough. “oh i don’t really dance.” you scoffed, standing up. “who says.” you fixed the tiny skirt you were wearing, it exposed your thighs, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. “please.” giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which he immediately caved because why would he deny you anything. “oh-oh okay.”

he got up, following you to the dance floor. you spun around wrapping your arms around his neck. “is this okay?” you grabbed his hand, putting it on your waist; really low on your waist. “yes.” he sighed softly as you both moved to the beat of the music. “i think you’re really cute jeongin.” you played with the nape of his hair. “i-i think you’re cute too.” your finger traced his jaw. “we could go back to your place?”

his place? what about that room? he could let you see that room… the room he dedicated to you, covered in pictures he took from your social medias, and sneaky photos he took of you hung up everywhere. old tissues and old cup he’d taken when you’d visited to the cafe — and the sweaters, three sweaters he took. how did he get them? he waited until you would get up even for a minute or two , forgotten about the sweaters giving him the chance to swoop in and take it.

he almost managed to find the perfume you wore; it smell just like you, so he sprayed it all over the room, covering it in you; it was your room, no one was allowed to see that room, only him. “my-my place is really far away.” he said. “that’s fine, i can spend the night, right?” he gulped, he could just keep you away from that room. he could just say it’s used for storage. “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” you said. “no-no i do.” he said, you smiled. “let’s go then.” you said. “let me go say goodbye to my friend.” you reached up giving him a kiss on the cheek. “i’ll be back.” watching you walk away.

once you returned; he guided you out of the house to his car, not bothering to say goodbye to his friends, he’d see them when he saw them. the ride back to his was quiet; a comfortable quiet though. he would look over at you and you’d smile back, before looking out the window.

he finally made it back to his place, the two of you making your way to his bedroom, where you immediately kissed his neck. “mhm.” he sighed as you attacked his neck with kisses. “that feels good.” he closed his eyes, allowing you to walk him back until he hit bed, falling down. he laid back , letting you grind down on him. “do-don’t tease please.” he begged, you giggled. “i won’t.” you climbed down , in between his lap. he lifted his hips allowing you to pull his pants down to his ankles. “you’re hard.” you kissed him through his boxers, pulling his cock from his confinements, he hissed as the air hit his cock. “so big.” you kissed the tip of his cock, taking him fully into your mouth. “ah shit!”

you bobbed your head up and down his cock. he gripped the sheets, throwing his head back as you worked down on him, gagging noises. “you’re so good at that.” his hand coming up to your head, pushing your head down. “oh fuck im gonna cum.” he groaned, bucking his hips up. “gonna cum inside your mouth.” he moaned loudly as he shot his load. “ooooh fuck!” he fell back against the bed. he felt like he was floating on a cloud. “you liked that?” he nodded breathlessly. “so much.”

you climbed into his lap, he sat back up, holding you by your lower back. “i want you inside me.” you said stroking his length. “want you to stretch me out.” you pushed your panties to the side, running the tip of his cock along your slit. “fuck sit on it.” you finally sat down on him, engulfing him. “jeongin you’re so big.” you moaned into his ear as you began to bounce on him. “fuck you’re so tight , i dreamt of this.” he groaned. “you’ve dreamt of fucking me?” you moaned. “ye-yeah all the time.”

you didn’t say much else, speeding your movements. “oh fuck , if you don’t slow down im gonna cum.” he groaned; he prayed for this day, the day he could feel you around him, sucking him for all that he’d got. “please cum , i want it inside me.” you whined, he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” you moaned out. “me-me too -fuck- lets cum together.” he held your waist tightly. “im cumming!” you screamed out. “jeongin!”

he held you down, letting out a loud moan as he came. “fuck fuck fuck.” he groaned cumming. “oh my god.” he breathed heavily, your foreheads pressed against each other. you smiled, kissing his lips. “you’re so cute innie.”

he woke up the next morning to an empty bed; but he knew someone was there; because of the aspirin on his bathroom sink with a note. he also woke up with a hard on, the night before flashing through his mind in little bits, but just enough for him to jerk off to before class. he quickly go ready, leaving out of his apartment.

the first thing he did was try and find you when he got to campus. “yn?” you turned around facing the boy. “oh jeongin, you’re okay.” you looked really worried. “of course i am why wouldn’t i be?” he said. “you only had one drink I didn’t think you’d basically black out like that.” you said; he blacked out last night? was it after you two had sex? “what time did you leave?” he asked. “right after you past out.” you said. “i didn’t stay long.”

you looked serious so he knew you weren’t fucking with him. “you left right after?” he said. “yeah; i stayed for about 5 minutes, i gave you a aspirin and left.” you said… it felt so real, like he could still feel you on him; he could smell your smell when he woke up in the morning, he could hear you moaning in his ear, telling him you were cumming. “you okay jeongin?” he looked at you. “um yeah.” he said. “you look sick; maybe you should go home and sleep, and this time sleep on your bed and not your couch.”

his couch; but he woke up in his bedroom? “ye-yeah i think i do.” he said really confused, his mind was really foggy. “maybe when you feel better we can actually hang up; this time when you’re sober and not muttering crazy things under your breath.” you chuckled. “oh no what did i say?” he said praying he didn’t embarrass himself. “something about my sweaters smells really nice.” you chuckled, but he was sweating now. “i wasn’t wearing one.”

“did you go into any of my rooms?” he asked, you shook your head no. “no i did use your bathroom, that’s why i left the aspirin in there, i hope you don’t mind.” he shook his head. “we have the same body wash, that's funny.” he cracked a fake smile. “we can we hang out for real?” you asked. “so-soon i promise, I’m gonna go home and get some rest.” you nodded. “i hope you feel better.” you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking away.

he quickly rushed home; kicking his shoes off. he made his way to the living room and the pillows were thrown around like he’d slept on it. “so i did sleep here.” he ran to his room, pushing the door open. his bed wasn’t slept in; he hadn’t slept there, but he woke up in a bed — his room dedicated to you; he b-lined out his room and down the hall to his special room. the door was wide open.

he walked into the room, it smelt like you because of the perfume he always sprayed. the pictures looking back at him as he made his way over to the bed. the bed he kept clean always, messy and unmade. pictures he took now scattered around on the bed — and the worse part , his favorite picture of you. the only picture he had that was up close of you was now on the floor stained in his cum.

he’d hallucinated the whole thing; and he almost gave his obsession with you away. he just never felt something so surreal before… which only proved that his love for you was the strongest it’s ever been; and now that you’ve invited him into your life he can now push forward into making you his. he picked the ruined picture up; his dried cum covering your smiling face — turning him on cause now he has a vision of you covered in his cum. “fuck.”

he could feel himself getting hard again. “innie?” he looked up and you were standing in the doorway with a smile on your face.

girl, you're my hallucination …

©️LUVYENI

[emmyrosee]

“I’m sorry we have to break up.”

“…pardon?”

Wakatoshi’s olive eyes peer over his book at you, brow cocked in confusion as you stand above him, your hands on your hips. You don’t look any sort of remorseful or upset; just mildly bored with the fact you’ve just walked up to him and said you’d have to break up.

Like telling him it was raining outside.

You sigh, “we’re just not compatible.”

“Do… you feel that way? Have I done something?” Worry crosses his features, trying to map out what he’s done to upset you, if anything.

“Oh! No, not at all,” you say, and when you provide no other context, he raises his brow and you must notice his growing annoyance because you shrug at him, “my horoscope says we’re not compatible. And I just don’t want to waste my time if we’re not going to make it.”

This, has wakatoshi chuckling. He closes his book and gently shifts to make himself comfortable in the dip of the cushions. “Make it?”

“Look; our signs just aren’t compatible right now.” You smile at him softly, “maybe one day we’ll be there.”

“Im sorry, you must tell me more.” When you flash him a look, he scoffs, “I was reading my book perfectly fine, now you’re telling me we’re not going to be together anymore. I need help understanding.”

You unlock and pass him your phone, his big hand taking it from you before looking at your astrology chart, furrowing his brows as his eyes glaze the contents.

“Non-compatible with leo’s, it says.”

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“And… I’m assuming I’m a leo?”

“Sure are.”

“You’re not seriously about to leave me because the stars said so, correct?”

You cock your brow. He rolls his eyes.

“That should not surprise you,” you say, and he sighs and flicks his eyes up to you.

“It shouldn’t, but it does.”

You scoff, “how august-leo of you.”

“I swear to all of the gods, benevolent and not, do not start using this against me.”

“It’s not me, it’s you, toshi.”

tagging 🩷 @reverie-starlight @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes @rrairey @dira333 @unknownspecies @fluffytriceratops

[sweeterthanficstion]

— twelve dates 'til christmas || l.s.k ⋆⁺₊❅.

christmas party / fake relationship / re2r leon! ❆ for @leonsecretsanta event! ❆ gift for @calbloodypigeon ! <3

tags: no outbreak au, rookie leon, journalist reader, gn reader but if i've accidentally missed something please let me know so i can fix it up! --- lots of stupid hallmark christmas cliches, heavily inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days.

summary: when the leads you're chasing for your feature article for the local paper have gone ice cold, and you've just about given up hope, the rpd's newest rookie shows up like a christmas miracle and proposes a deal that might just save you. or blow up in your face.

word count: 6.1k --- i know i went over the word count IM SO SORRY 😭

a/n: CAL! HI! i'm SO beyond sorry this is late, i fucked up the timings so bad and stupidly miscalculated how much time i had left to finalise this and then i got roped into my own christmas fiasco so i was RACING against the clock to try get this out asap. BUT i hope you like it regardless!! i saw re2r leon as your wild card and my eyes LIT UP!! this was such a pleasure to write, i absolutely love writing rookie leon! (also yes i know the twelve days of christmas technically come after christmas day but shhhh) anyway, hope you have a wonderful christmas!! lots of love, amber xx

masterlist⭑AO3

It starts with a faulty office printer and a burnt cup of coffee.

You stare pitifully at the cup of coffee in your hand—if you can even call it that anymore. Half empty and completely unsalvageable, the acrid smell lingers in the break room like some unwelcome ghost of Christmas caffeine. If only you hadn’t slept through your alarm this morning, you could’ve avoided the morning rush (since it seems that nobody in Raccoon City knows how to drive through snow), and made a good cup of coffee to accompany you for the day instead of having to fight the shitty office coffee machine instead.

With a half-hearted sigh you turn the mug over and dump its contents into the bin, watching forlornly as the liquid soaks through shredded paper and old protein bar wrappers instead.

“Bad morning?” One of your coworkers, Claire, quips from across the way. A perfectly fine cup of coffee sits on her desk in a mug that reads Journalists do It With Integrity! 

You shoot her a withering glare, but before you can deliver any sort of witty remark, the printer across the room coughs out a single sheet of crumpled paper, and promptly dies. 

“Bad week,” you mutter, running a hand down your face before stalking towards the offending machine. 

The office, already buzzing with the chaos of holiday deadlines, feels like it’s working entirely against you. The case you’ve been chasing—a string of thefts tied to the Raccoon City holiday markets—has gone ice cold. Your editor is breathing down your neck for a feature piece that you can’t write without new leads. You’ve got twelve days left, twelve days until your editor wants that final copy on her desk.

And now the printer has decided to stage a mutiny. Just your luck.

You try to print out the documents again, but when the printer does nothing but splutter, and kicking it doesn’t seem to work, you decide maybe it just needs new ink.

You’re about halfway through jamming your hand into its guts when a voice, sweet yet awkward, startles you. You hit your head on the way up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of warm blue eyes beneath a mop of golden hair. 

He’s wearing a leather jacket over a navy button-down, his badge clipped to his belt. He looks familiar, like someone you might’ve run into at the bullpen when you’re down at the RPD.

“Uh, need a hand?” he tilts his head, same awkward smile unfaltering.

“I’ve got it,” you say, though you clearly don’t. The printer lets out a final, pathetic whine before dying completely. Well, now you just look stupid.

He grins, the kind of lopsided, sheepish smile that makes him look younger than he probably is. “Guess that’s a no.”

You sigh, looking over your shoulder to catch Claire hiding a smile behind her mug. You fold your arms. “Sorry, can I help you?”

“Names Leon,” He introduces himself, and it all clicks into place for you. This is the RPD’s newest rookie. The guy Claire’s been yapping your ear off about Chris yapping her ear off about. “I’m just dropping off some paperwork. But, uh… I overheard you talking to your editor earlier. You’re working on the market thefts, right?”

Your eyes narrow. “And what’s it to you?”

Leon raises his hands in mock surrender at your scathing tone, the picture of good-natured defensiveness. “Nothing! Just thought you might want some… unofficial insight. Off the record, of course.”

Your skepticism doesn’t waver. “Why would a rookie like you have anything I can’t get from public records?”

Leon hesitates for a moment, as if deciding how much to say. “I’ve been helping out on the case. They’ve got me running reports, talking to market vendors, stuff like that. Not exactly glamorous work, but I’ve been hearing things that don’t make it into the official write-ups.”

Now you’re interested. RPD isn’t exactly known for transparency, you know that much. You also know better than most that a lot can slip through the cracks of “official” documentation.

“What’s the catch?” you ask, suspicious.

Leon shifts, “Well, uh… There’s this Christmas party at the precinct. And I might have mentioned to my coworkers that I was bringing a date.”

You blink. “You’re blackmailing me with case information to play your fake-datw at a cop Christmas party?”

“It’s not blackmail!” Leon protests, his ears turning red. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get your story, and I… avoid being the precinct punchline for another year.”

You’re still sceptical, but the desperation in his voice softens your resolve. Saying no to him right now would be like kicking a poor puppy.

You stare at him for a moment, weighing your options. It’s ridiculous, sure, but then again, so is everything else in your life right now.

“Fine,” you say finally, sticking out your hand. “Twelve days. You give me what I need, and I’ll be the best fake date you’ve ever had.”

Leon shakes your hand with a grin, relief written all over his face. “Deal.”

And just like that, the countdown begins.

On the second day of Christmas, Leon sends you flowers.

Big ones. Loud ones. The kind of bouquet you’d expect to see at a wedding reception or an apology press conference. They’re wrapped in glittering gold paper—Poinsettias, as Claire so graciously points out.

“Looks like someone’s got an admirer,” she singsongs, loud enough for half the floor to hear.

Your stomach drops. There, sitting right in the middle of your disaster zone of a desk, is the offending bouquet. It’s massive, covered in festive bells and ribbon, and the card sticking out of it reads:

“To my Christmas angel. – L.”

You mutter a silent prayer to whatever God might be listening, snatching the card up like it might explode before anyone else might see. Your coworkers are already murmuring around you, though, so that seems like a bit of a lost cause.

Claire leans back in her chair, still grinning. “So when were you gonna tell me you’re dating someone?”

“Firstly, that is none of your business,” you snap, grabbing the entire bouquet in a desperate attempt to get it out of sight. The glitter gets everywhere, including your coat, your desk, and, somehow, your coffee. “And secondly—” You start, but backtrack when you remember that the deal you struck with Leon may require some confidentiality. Damn you for not figuring out boundaries sooner. “—that is also none of your business.”

You turn on your heel and you don’t stop moving until you’re outside the building, your fingers already dialing a number you swore to yourself you wouldn’t use unless absolutely necessary.

Leon picks up on the third ring. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me,” you hiss, pacing in the cold December air. “What the hell were you thinking sending me flowers? To my office?”

Leon hesitates for a second, and you can almost hear him cringing through the phone. “Uh, I thought it’d make things more… believable?”

You stop in your tracks. “Believable?”

“Yeah! You know, if people saw that you’re, like, dating someone, it might help sell the whole… thing.” His voice trails off, and there’s a pause before he adds, quieter, “Was it too much?”

“Too much?” you echo, your own voice rising in disbelief. “It’s not even lunchtime and I’ve already been asked twice if I’m engaged. At least take me to dinner first!”

There’s a beat of silence on his end before he says, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

You stop in your tracks. “Do what?”

“Dinner,” Leon says, like it’s obvious. “Tomorrow. You said I should take you to dinner, so… I’ll take you to dinner.”

You blink, your annoyance faltering for a second, only to give way to mild confusion. “Are you asking me out, or are you making this part of the deal?”

“Can’t it be both?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the cold or the sheer absurdity of the situation that makes you smile, but you sigh and say, “Fine. Dinner. But you’re picking the place, and it better not be one of those sad 24-hour diners cops hang out in.”

Leon laughs, the sound warm enough to cut through the winter chill. “Deal.”

On the third day of Christmas, Leon takes you to dinner.

And yes, it is a sad diner.

It’s the kind of place that looks like it hasn’t updated its decor since the 70s, with faded garlands drooping from the light fixtures and a suspiciously sticky Rudolph figurine parked on the counter. Which is fine, in honesty. It’s perfect for this not-date, because that’s what this is. Not a date. Absolutely nothing about this screams romance.

Well, except maybe the crooked twig of mistletoe hanging over the entrance, but even that you’d pointedly avoided much to Leon’s amusement.

“So, remind me what I’m doing here,” you hum, pushing around your leftover pancakes on your plate. Leave it to Leon to convince you pancakes for dinner is an entirely acceptable meal choice.

“Well, we’re on a date,” Leon states matter-of-factly.

Across from you, he looks all too comfortable. You, on the other hand, feel like you’ve just agreed to help pull Santa’s sleigh blindfolded.

“Yeah, well, a date’s pushing it, rookie,” You all but scoff, setting your fork down before meeting his gaze properly. “Look, if we’re gonna do this, we probably need to set some ground rules.”

Leon raises a brow, lips curving into a half-smile, “You’re serious? This isn’t Fight Club.”

“Can’t believe you just broke the first rule of Fight Club,” you shoot back, matching his half-smile with your own self-satisfied one. “Okay, first off, who gets to know?”

“That this is fake? No one,” Leon says all too firmly, “I don’t need this blowing up in my face.”

“Likewise,” you hum. “Okay, next, how often are we gonna see each other outside of office hours? Are we really trying to sell this?”

“Well a coffee or two wouldn’t hurt,” Leon suggest. “And, uh… Physical stuff?” He asks, a generous blush dusting his cheeks.

You can’t hide your smile. “Afraid to hold my hand or something?”

“No! No— just… Don’t want to make this any more awkward than it has to be.”

“Alright, so no kissing unless absolutely necessary. And I’m talking someone-shoves-us-under-mistletoe-and-starts-chanting levels of necessary.”

He lets out a laugh, soft and boyish, and you can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth tug upwards.

On the Fourth Day of Christmas Leon takes you ice-skating. Well… Sort of.

You’d come to pick up some paperwork about the Christmas Market case Leon had promised you—an errand you figured would be quick and painless. No mingling, no unnecessary chit-chat, and absolutely no run-ins with anyone who might make this fake-dating charade any harder than it has to be.

The first hiccup comes the second you step into the precinct. You immediately spot him, leaning against the reception desk with an easy grin, chatting with some colleagues. You only recognise one of them, from the photo sitting on Claire’s desk no-less. Chris Redfield. The woman beside him, who’s donning a festive antler headband, looks oddly familiar as well, though you can’t quite place it.

Fantastic. Just what you needed.

“Leon!” you call, keeping your tone as casual as possible. You walk briskly, plastering on a tight-lipped smile, trying your best not to look like a deer caught in the headlights and to very pointedly avoid any eye-contact with Chris.

Leon turns at the sound of your voice, his expression brightening instantly. “Oh, hey! What’re you doing here?”

“Paperwork,” you reply, holding up the empty manila folder in your hand like it’s your golden ticket out of this situation. “You said you’d have it ready for me?”

Before Leon can answer, the woman next to Chris perks up—it’s then you recognise her as none other than Jill Valentine. You chalk it up to the antlers making it hard to recognise her.

“Paperwork? Wait, is this who you were talking about?” She elbows Leon in the ribs, earning a flustered yelp from him.

“What?” you echo, narrowing your eyes. Great, so he's already started mentioning you to colleagues.

Chris leans forward, “Wait, you’re Leon’s partner?”

You feel your stomach drop, the word partner ricocheting around your brain like a pinball. 

Leon is already mid-spiral, his cheeks flushed red as he stammers out a reply. “Well, I didn’t say that— I mean, I said some of that, but not like that!”

Jill crosses her arms, smirking. “Well, now we have to meet you! What are you two doing tonight?”

“Nothing!” you and Leon blurt at the same time, a little too loudly.

Chris raises an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Jill before grinning even wider. “Perfect. You guys should come ice skating with us tonight, most of the Precinct will be there.”

Your mouth opens, ready to reject the idea outright, but Leon beats you to it.

“That sounds great!” he says, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If you could hit him over the head with this manilla folder right now, you would.

“Great,” Jill says, clapping her hands together. “Meet us at the rink at around seven tonight.”

“What the hell was that?” you hiss once both Chris and Jill have had enough teasing and they’re out of earshot.

“I panicked!” Leon whispers back, looking genuinely apologetic.

“You just signed us up for the least romantic fake date activity imaginable.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You owe me so much for this, rookie.”

“I’ll buy you hot chocolate?” Leon tries, sweet boyish smile and all. You hate how you feel your resolve begin to soften already.

 “You better make it with extra marshmallows.”

He nods, his expression softening as his smile melts into something tentative yet determined. “Deal.”

You’ve decided you don’t like ice skating. Chalk that up to the fact you haven’t been to the rink since you were eight and using a push-along penguin to keep you upright.

“This is fine,” you mutter under your breath, wobbling precariously as you step onto the ice. “Totally fine. Nothing humiliating about face-planting on ice.”

“You’ve got this!” Leon cheers from a few feet away, his enthusiasm wildly misplaced considering he’s not doing much better. He looks like a newborn deer, legs flailing every time he tries to take a step.

“Don’t patronize me,” you hiss back, gripping the railing like your life depends on it.

Behind you, Jill glides past with all the effortless grace of an Olympic figure skater, followed closely by Chris—who despite a few wobbles—isn’t much worse. They’re laughing at something—probably you and Leon—but you’re too busy trying to avoid an embarrassing collision with the ice to care.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Leon says, inching toward you with the kind of determination usually reserved for hostage negotiations. “You let go of the rail, and I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He looks just about as stupid as he sounds, you decide. “That’s assuming you don’t fall first.”

He grins, cheeks ruddy from the cold. “Have a little faith, would you?”

Against your better judgment, you release your grip on the rail, immediately flailing as your skates slide out from under you.

Leon lunges to catch you—a valiant effort, truly—which would be heroic if it didn’t result in both of you landing in a tangled heap on the ice.

“Well, that could’ve gone better.” Leon groans, pushing himself to his knees and wincing.

“You think?” you say, trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh as you roll onto your side. Your knees are sore, your pride is bruised, but when you look over at Leon—cheeks flushed, smile sheepish— it all feels a little less mortifying.

“Here,” he says, extending a hand to help you up, and there’s something strangely endearing about the gesture. You hesitate for a moment before taking it, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn’t let go right away, steadying you as you find your balance.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.

“Yeah,” you reply, surprised to find that you actually mean it.

And somewhere between all of this chaos a group of kids barrels past, laughing as they race each other in a blur of neon jackets and mis-matched scarves. You and Leon instinctively jump out of their way, your skates sliding in all the wrong directions. You nearly crash into him again, grabbing his arm for balance as he steadies both of you.

And suddenly, you’re close. Closer than you’ve been all night.

His face is just inches from yours, his breath visible in soft clouds in the frigid air. His cheeks are bitten by the cold, his boyish grin tugging at his lips, and his eyes—God, his eyes—are the kind of blue that could rival a frosted winter’s lake.

You swallow hard, heart giving a little flutter you’d rather not think about. Brushing it off with a laugh, you take a step back, releasing his arm. “Okay, new rule: avoid the speed demons at all costs.”

“Agreed,” Leon says, but his voice a little softer now, his gaze a little firmer.

The rest of the night is chaos, as expected, and by the time you stumble off the ice, breathless and pink-cheeked, you’re smiling so wide and genuine that your cheeks hurt from it all.

On the sixth day of Christmas, Leon comes over for a very professional movie night. 

The plan was simple enough: a low-key night to sort through leads and discuss the finer details of the article. Nothing more than that. Just two friends (are you even really friends?) mocking bad Hallmark movie tropes and terrible one-liners. But—as fate would have it—somewhere between the half-hearted scribbles in your notebook and the opening credits of the first movie, the evening takes a sharp left turn.

Popcorn crumbs litter the coffee table, and the air hums with laughter as you and Leon pick apart every ridiculous trope on the screen.

“New rule,” you declare, pointing at the screen with a handful of popcorn. “No more movies where the leads magically fall in love because of forced proximity. It's lazy writing.”

Leon raises a brow, smiling at you over his mug of cocoa. “Do you just... make up rules for everything?”

You shoot him a look, though your lips twitch in betrayal. “Rules are important. They keep things from going off the rails.”

“Sure they do,” he says, grinning. “But I think you might have a thing for them. Maybe it’s your love language”

You toss a kernel of popcorn at him, which he catches with an annoyingly quick reflex. The movie continues, but your attention drifts, his sweet smile lingering in your thoughts longer than you’d care to admit, and all at once you want to suffocate yourself with a pillow.

By the time the credits have rolled, the conversation has veered wildly away from work and movies. You find yourself talking about everything and nothing between here and there, the space separating you both narrowing in a way that feels very not-professional. Your leg brushes against his and his hand brushes against yours.

You didn’t make a new rule about that. Maybe you should have.

On the eighth day of Christmas, you finally chase down some of those leads for your article. 

Or at least, you try to.

The holiday market is bustling with lights, laughter, and the scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts. It’s picturesque enough to be a postcard: striped tents draped in garlands, vendors bundled in scarves, and the faint hum of Christmas carols floating through the crisp evening air.

You’re here for work. This is professional business. Totally, totally.

“Professional” is exactly why you’re letting Leon lead you to a vendor handing out roasted chestnuts in steaming paper cones.

You raise a brow at him. “Seriously?”

“You’ve gotta try them. It’s tradition.” He says as if it’d be crazy to deny him.

And before you can even think about protesting, he’s already handing you a cone, the warmth seeping through your gloves as you eye the chestnuts—then him—warily. You pop a few in your mouth, only to find yourself pleasantly surprised.

“Good, right?” he asks, smug as anything. You scrunch your nose in response.

Next is funnel cake. Leon orders one to share, dusting himself in powdered sugar as he pulls off a piece and offers it to you.

“I could’ve got my own,” you reason, but take what he offers you anyway.

“Well that wouldn’t make me a very good date.”

“Fake-date,” you correct.

“Uhuh,” Leon hums, but he’s not even looking at you when you glance back up at him, already dragging you towards the next stall, and the next. 

“I’m serious!” You call after him, trying to keep up as he weaves through the crowd like he’s trained to do this. Well, he probably is.

You don’t even realise how long it’s been until you're walking past empty market stalls, every other vendor packing up for the night. Leon leads you out into the street, strings of warm white lights swaying gently in the winter breeze.

Leon’s hands are stuffed into his coat pockets as the two of you walk side by side, your boots crunching softly against the thin dusting of snow on the pavement.

The streets are mostly empty now, save for a few stragglers heading home, but Leon leads you straight into the middle of the road without a second thought. You hesitate for half a second, glancing both ways like a habit.

“There’s no one out here,” he says over his shoulder, that lazy grin curling at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not scared of breaking the rules, are you?”

“Isn’t it your job to enforce rules?” You argue, but follow after him anyway.

When you tilt your head up, you feel the breath escape your lungs all at once. “You can actually see the stars tonight,” you murmur softly in awe, your breath clouding in the cold.

Leon doesn’t say anything right away, but when you glance over, you catch him watching you instead of the sky, his gaze softer than you’re used to. He quickly looks up, clearing his throat as if he hadn’t just been caught.

You don’t know what’s worse: the way his cheeks flush from something other than the cold or the fact that your stomach flutters in response.

And you don’t know what to do with the quiet that stretches between you, either, the sound of your steps filling it up like placeholders. You hadn’t meant for the day to linger this long—hadn’t meant to still be here, walking home with him.

Leon breaks the silence first. “You know, I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I am.”

He laughs then, genuine and bright. “Oh thank God, I’d hate for this to actually be enjoyable for either of us.” Sarcasm laces his words in a way that makes you laugh in kind.

He’s grinning like he’s got all the time in the world as he turns to walk backward in front of you, and suddenly all at once this feels like something out of one of those Hallmark Christmas movies you swore to yourself you’d never recreate. 

“You still haven’t thanked me for helping you today.” He says.

“Helping me?” you snort. “All you did was get funnel cake powder on my coat and in my cocoa.”

“Hey,  I got you a quote from the candy vendor, didn’t I?” he defends, arms spreading wide.

“You mean the guy who told us about his grandma’s cookie recipe?”

“Hard-hitting stuff,” he shrugs.

You shake your head, but you’re smiling, and you hate that he notices. He spins back around to face the road ahead, walking a little slower now, like he’s dragging his feet.

“So,” you say after a moment, picking up your pace to fall back into step with him. “Why do you care so much about this Christmas party, anyway?”

Leon doesn’t answer right away. You glance over, and the grin that’s usually on his face has faded into something smaller, quieter.

“Guess I just… don’t want to look like a total loser,” he says eventually, his voice low but even. “It’s been a long first year. People talk.”

You frown at that. “They don’t have anything better to do at the RPD?”

“Apparently not.” He shrugs like it doesn’t bother him, but you can tell it does, at least a little.

The two of you walk in silence for another block, and when you speak again, your tone is softer. “You know, you could’ve asked someone who actually likes you to be your date.”

Leon glances over, and for some reason, his answer catches you off guard. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “but then it wouldn’t have been you.”

You look away too quickly, your chest tightening in a way you can’t explain. He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t push him for more.

Instead, you both keep walking, the street stretching out ahead of you, the night colder and clearer than it’s been in weeks. The faint glow of your building comes into view up ahead, and for a moment, you wish it was just a little farther away.

On the tenth day of Christmas, Leon does something so absurd you briefly consider chucking him—and his ridiculous ideas—into a snowbank.

Leon shows up at your door, determined and annoyingly cheerful, with a Christmas tree strapped to the roof of his car and a twinkle in his eye that should’ve been your first warning. You don’t have the heart to turn him away or give him a lecture about how this is breaking at least three of your fake-dating rules.

Dragging the tree up the stairs is a disaster, his optimism only barely keeping the whole endeavor from collapsing. Decorating it? Worse. Leon’s enthusiasm for tinsel is unmatched, his ornament selection downright offensive. A plastic Rudolph here, a lopsided snowman there—it’s a full-scale disaster in red, green, and glitter.

By the end of the night, the tree looks more like a festive crime scene, fairy lights as police-tape and all, but you can’t bring yourself to care. The two of you collapse as you both watch the twinkling lights. A ribbon is tangled in your hair; Leon has tinsel stuck to his sleeve. The quiet settles in like freshly fallen snow, and for a moment, you forget this isn’t supposed to feel real.

You spent the eleventh night at Leon’s place. It was his idea to go over the finalities of this agreement, set your story straight in case anybody at the party asks too many questions. Make sure you're both on the same page.

But when you rocked up at his little studio apartment, it felt like he’d compensated for much more than a quick flashcard night.

Cinnamon scented candles burned and flicker, accompanied by a plate of cookies on the counter. Your half-crumpled notes quickly joined, as well as two cups of cocoa that have long-since gone cold.

“Alright, one more time, how’d we meet?”

Leon props his head up on his palm, looking like he’s had more than enough of your pointless flashcard game. “Coffee shop. You spilled hot chocolate on me, laughed, then walked away.”

“I offered to buy you a replacement!” You shoot back, hitting him atop the head with your stack of cards.

He winces dramatically, swatting our hand away. “Well I think it’s more believable if I pretend you didn’t and you bicker back. Y’know, like an old married couple or something.”

You reach for your cold cocoa to hide the way you splutter. “Woah, rookie, I only signed up for a fake-date, not a fake-wedding too.”

Leon grins, but something about him still looks oddly distant.

He kicks his feet off the barstool, takes your cup of cocoa and his to clean them away. “Have you finished your article at least?”

“Nearly,” You hum, but you’re more lying through your teeth. You’ve barely worked on it despite all the extra input Leon’s given you. Something, something, a very distracting Christmas fiasco got in your way. “I should be done by the end of the week.”

“And what happens once it’s done?” He asks, and you know in your right mind he means what happens to you. Promotion? New story? Next assignment? But instead your mind stupidly jumps to the idea that he’s asking about the both of you. What happens to us? written between the lines in invisible ink.

“Well, I suppose I find a new story to chase.” You clear your throat, “and you?”

“Go back to handing out speeding tickets,” Leon smiles through a sigh, “and I guess we drop this whole fake-dating thing, huh?” He asks, and you refuse to let yourself believe there’s any hope in his voice.

“Don’t see a reason to keep it going,” you shrug, to which Leon simply nods.

“Anyway, don’t try changing the subject on me,” you clear your throat, shuffling back through your pile of cards. “Next question: what’s my favourite holiday tradition?”

Leon shelves the now clean and dried mugs, “stealing Christmas cookies when no one’s looking.” He hums smugly over his shoulder.

You blink, “I never told you that.”

“Don’t need to, I pay attention.” He grins, pointedly flicking his gaze to the now empty plate of cookies. But you’re still hung on his words, the casual admission throws you entirely off kilter, and it seems by the twelfth day he still has you feeling that way.

You feel entirely out of place standing in the RPD. The precinct is sparkling with every Hallmark Christmas cliche imaginable—oversized tinsel, plastic mistletoe (that you’re still doing your best to avoid), and a garishly large tree that stands off to the side, completed by a shining white angel on top. 

Leon, of course, has dressed the part. And damn him for looking so good in a navy suit and deep red tie to match your own attire. His presence is steady when you feel out of depth—it’s funny how he does that, despite usually being the one who requires an anchor.

“Are you alright?” He asks, leaning closer to be heard over the obnoxiously loud Christmas music. His voice is low, warm, entirely too distracting. 

“Fine,” you lie with a sickly sweet smile, downing the last of your punch, “totally fine.”

Leon doesn’t buy it, and you’re starting to think he’s getting too good at reading you (which is your job, not his), but before he can press any further, your worst nightmare seems to come to fruition.

You're pulled then pushed, and before you can register what’s even happened you're colliding with Leon’s chest.

“Mistletoe,” he mutters, and when you finally lift your gaze you catch the offending sprig. Jesus Christ.

Honestly, this is your fault. You should’ve accounted for something like this. Nothing like a good bit of rookie hazing at a work party, right? Dammit. The rest of the precinct seems to cheer and chant, and you’d foolishly thought you’d left this behaviour behind in high school. 

God, you wish the ground would part beneath your feet and swallow you whole right now—

“Well, this doesn’t break any of your rules, does it?” Leon asks then, and you can hear the smile in his voice, something about the way he says it makes it sound like he knows the answer.

And he does. Because if Leon’s good at one thing it’s remembering the finer details. No kissing unless absolutely necessary, you’d said. Like someone-shoves-us-under-mistletoe-and-starts-chanting levels of necessary, you’d said.

Okay, now you really want the ground to swallow you up.

Leon seems to pick up on your unease, and ever the gentleman drowns out the obnoxious chanting of his colleagues to focus on you.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he offers.

You shake your head. “It’s part of the deal.” You say firmly. You’re not going to back down now, you’re a stickler for rules, deals, and contracts. Totally not because you’ve been wondering what Leon’s lips might taste like for the past five minutes. Totally.

He counts you down, which feels stupid, but does actually help quell your nerves. What doesn’t help, though, is the way his hand slides to your jaw and his lips slot against yours so effortlessly. You forget the world exists, heart beating out of your chest before you let yourself melt into it, your own arms looping around his neck just before he pulls away.

He’s got blush on his cheeks, his eyes bright, smiling widely like he’s just one the powerball. And suddenly, all at once, your brain catches up to your heart and you realise how none of this seems to feel fake anymore.

Three days later, and your article had gone live that morning. Your editor had been quick to praise it, Claire more than proud when she’d shown up with a mini Christmas gift basket for you. But still, as the day wore on, the victory felt hollow. The article might have just been your best work, but now that the dust—or snow, rather—has settled, all you can think about is Leon and the strange ache left in his absence.

You glance out the window of your tiny office, the skyline glittering with holiday lights. It’s quiet, save for the distant hum of the city and the rhythmic tapping of your pen against your desk.

“You know, I expected a little more Christmas cheer from the person who just saved Christmas,” a familiar voice says.

You jump, spinning around in your squeaky office chair to find Leon leaning casually in your doorway. He’s dressed down from the last time you saw him after the party, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, but the sight of him is enough to send your heart racing.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice caught somewhere between surprise and something softer.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he shrugs, pushing himself off the cubicle wall and stepping inside.

You raise a brow. “The precinct is five blocks away.”

“Exactly,” he says with a grin. “Neighborhood.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. He steps closer still, and you feel the air shift.

“Look,” he starrs, running a hand through his hair like he’s still trying to work up the courage. “The other night, you said that after this was over, we wouldn’t have to see each other again.”

You swallow hard, your heart already knowing where this is going but your mind refusing to believe it. You remember how casually you’d thrown that out there, as if the thought hadn’t stung more than you cared to admit. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Well, I don’t want that,” he says simply.

Your breath hitches, but he keeps on going.

“I don’t want to go back to pretending this was all fake,” he continues, his voice steady but his eyes searching yours. “Because it might’ve started that way, but it didn’t end that way—not for me.”

The words hang in the air like softly drifting snowflakes, fragile and perfect, waiting for you to catch them.

“Leon…” you try, but your voice falters.

“I know,” he cuts in quickly. “I know this wasn’t the plan. But plans change, right? Rules get broken—and I know you hate that but hear me out—if there’s one thing I’ve learned these past twelve days, it’s that maybe breaking a rule or two isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

You laugh softly then despite yourself, a mix of nerves and something lighter. “You do realize you’re ruining my perfectly crafted narrative, right? Fake dating, falling in love…” you click your tongue, “this is all so cliché.”

He grins, stepping closer until there is almost no space left between you. “Then let’s give it a good ending.”

Before you can even give what he’s said a minute of thought, his hand is on your jaw again, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s unhurried and undeniably real.

When he finally pulls back, he stays close, his forehead resting against yours. “So,” he hums, his voice soft and teasing, “how’s that for a rewrite?”

You can’t help but laugh, your chest light for the first time in days. “It’s a start.”

The city sparkles outside as you stand there, snowflakes fall, the faint hum of Christmas carols from the office speakers bleed with the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Whatever comes next, you know one thing is for sure: this story isn’t over yet.

likes n reblogs r very much appreciated <3

[ccwpidsblog]

untitled — a.artlet

content warning: incel!armin artlet, male masterbation, slightt mommy kink, panty thief!minie, slut shaming, lmk if i missed anything i lit suck at tagging

cwpids notes: if this looks familiar it's from my old Wattpad account, this was originally a shiggy fanfiction but im not into mha anymore and wattpad deleted that book SAURRR just enjoy 😁🏹

armin artlet hated you with a passion. you came into his house and bothered him with your dumb staring and weak attempts to seduce him. his discord server and online friend knew everything about women like you. you'd try to take everything from him knowing his family was wealthy. that's exactly why you bothered him just like every other woman that approached him did. they didn't see armin they saw his money. he hated your stupid face when you batted your more than likely fake lashes at him and smiled at him with your fake smile, he hated the way your smell lingers when you leave a room, he hated the outfits you wore it was like you were begging for attention, he hated everything that has to do with you

his shirt was in between his teeth, left hand rubbing the soft cotton of your panties onto his cock,, his right was gripped onto the wall steadying himself. "fuck, y/n..." armin bit down onto his shirt harder, throwing his head back closing his eyes.

he was hot and bothered often, masterbating was something he did daily; he even had his fair share of toys. but this was his first time ever taking someone's underwear. he just couldn't help himself. sneaking into the guest bedroom while you were busy decorating the house for some shitty party his sister was throwing. he'd took the first pair he saw from the hamper. he felt gross not in the way he usually did while he stroked one out but in the best way. this didn't mean he did not hate you anymore; it was more of a lust thing he told himself.

he just lusted you.

"ah, faster..." he demanded of himself, his hands obeying his orders. the pace gradually picked up, using the same hand that gripped your panties tightly wrapping around his cock, while the other slowly smoothed up the skin of his stomach, feeling himself in ways he wished you could . armins hips bucked upwards into his hand, his quiet moans now turning into grunts of rapture with every thrust.

he imagined you on your knees in front of him allowing him to thrust himself into your mouth. begging for him to touch you in ways no one could "gonna cum, gonna fucking cum...ohh my god, more."

armin whined as he tightened his fist around his fat length, vigorously jerking himself off. his eyes flutter open to look down at how red and swollen his mushroom tip was, and how your panties were covered in his pre-cum, roughly biting down on his chapped bottom lip as he kept fucking into your panties, veins protruding with his grip tightening even further. "so tight, so tight."

"oh fuck, fuck mommy!" he cried out, voice breaking into a sob when his orgasm gushed out of him in hot spurts. placing his forehead on the cool tile he breathed heavily gaining his composure again. washing his hands and cleaning himself off his stuffed spoiled into his pocket. opening the door he came face to face with you.

his stomach twisted into knots as he stared down at you. your face scrunched and eyes watery like your were on the verge of crying, the braids you originally had in a bun were now down your back, it was your outfit that ticked him off. all these people here and you're walking around in a skimpy bathing suit. he didn't want to be mean or make you cry but it couldn't help himself.

"prancing around like an attention whore. not surprised since it's you."

[biibini]

steady eyes ‧ ♡*.✧

instances of mizu staring at you

tags: modern!mizu x f!reader, nsfw, more brat/teasing reader, eye contact, taigen frat bro makes another appearance, public teasing, sweet talk + dirtyyyy talk, neck kisses, mizu strapped asf

a/n: got inspired by this post analyzing her smiles… but like in a more silly way :P reqs coming out soon once im back home from break!

18+ content ahead!

modern!mizu loves to stare at you, whether its intentional or not

a quick glance or a longing, enamored gaze

during the first few dates with you, she would end up looking at you, her eyes slowly flicking up & down, a few times throughout the night

ima be honest she does the triangle method without even realizing it: look at left eye, lips, and then right eye

with the nerves and all, you ended up pointing it out and asked

“Is there something on my face?”

Mizu’s eyes met yours across the dining table, now alert and somewhat confused.

“What?”

“I asked if there’s something on my face.”, you repeated.

“Oh… um… there’s nothing.”, she responded with uncertainty.

Mizu looked down again, as her cheeks began to warm up. Thankfully, the flickering table candles shielded her flushed face.

“You just…look so beautiful.”

after that, you start to notice how long she stares at your lips without her even realizing it

modern!mizu has gotten caught staring at you when you change

not in a creepy way but more in a ‘wow my girlfriend looks so good’ way

when you pass by, she loves to place her hand around your hip, pulling you just a little closer to her

“Mizu! I need to go to class.”

“Mmhmm.”, she says, lazily reaching out, barely pulling your hips closer to her.

It just so happened that the space between the closet and the bathroom was close to Mizu’s side of the bed.

“Let goooo, or I’ll be late.”, you playfully argued as the feeling of her grip loosened.

You hear her groan, slowly stirring away. As nice it would be to sleep in and cuddle with Mizu until the late morning, you unfortunately needed to lock into this class.

And unfortunately leave Mizu behind.

While doing your skincare, you feel a pair of eyes staring at you from your side. You wipe your face with a towel, hoping to find that it was nothing but an after thought.

Nope. Not at all.

You find Mizu half awake, lazily watching you get ready. You smile, ushering her to go back to sleep.

“Honey, I’m just getting ready. Just stay in bed.”

She nods in response, yet still continues to watch you prepare for the day. Today’s class was more formal than usual due to the 2 guests speakers. That meant looking somewhat put together and somewhat professional.

With some combing and styling and face beating, you were able to leave your hair looking put together, almost ready for a professional interview. The last part was putting on your clothes.

At this point, Mizu was awake than ever, now sitting upright, watching her pretty girl get ready for class.

“Need help?”, Mizu asked, hoping to help with a button or two.

You come over to the bed, half naked with only underwear and a button-up on.

“Do you mind helping me button my shirt? I really need to rush out soon.”

Mizu quietly sat up on the bed, now on her knees to be able to button your top, hiding away the small marks she had made the night before. As you zipped up the long skirt, Mizu places her lips, leaving gentle kisses by the nape of your neck.

“You look…”

A soft peck.

“so good and…”

Another soft peck.

“honey, smell so good.”

Yeah, forget about going to class to find the optimal spot. You were barely late by 30 seconds, arriving in a swift rush of adrenaline from a quick pre-lecture make out session.

modern!mizu ‘s eyes tend to wander a lot too

in public, it’s mainly small glances to your face, chest, maybe behind from time to time…

she thinks she’s slick, casually checking out her girl, making sure she’s all safe and totally not glancing for something… right?

wrong!

you’re aware of this too btw.

that’s why you didn’t wear anything underneath before a party one night.

it was the usual house party hosted by taigen and his brothers: loud, obnoxious, great music to deafen everyone to the point where you need to speak into each others ears just to hear one another

typically, mizu and you would arrive a bit early with ringo, help set up, chill in the living room, and then leave when akemi got too tired or bored

this night, the living room ended up being the epicenter of the party, forcing you to sit atop of mizu’s lap with nothing but a top and a short, flowy skirt.

it wasn’t too tight or revealing. however, when sat on, it proved otherwise.

You sunk into Mizu’s lap as she lays back on the couch, sitting comfortably atop of her, letting your arm wrap behind her. As you planted yourself atop, Mizu felt something otherwise. Besides the feeling of your side wrapped by her arm, a warmth started to ignite atop of her lap.

Mizu looks down, finding your skirt lifted towards her, and a lack of a panty strap. Or any kind of strap at all.

Flustered, she immediately flipped your skirt down, shielding your hidden secret away from others. With a free hand, she pulls your leg close, caressing up and down your thigh. You feel the ridges of her hand stroke up and down your thigh, inching closer to your heated epicenter. Although her hand strokes were soft and gentle, the latter hand proved otherwise. You feel her grip on your hip tighten, sending one clear message to you: she knows and loves your little surprise.

You pull yourself closer to Mizu, staying at earshot distance as the beats thumped against the walls, the yells and noise of the crowd blended into a white noise.

“Like what you feel?”, you whispered into her ear, slyly shifting back and forth against her pants.

No one but her noticed the feeling. Everyone else was minding their own business.

Mizu’s mind can handle pressure. It has worked well countless of times on the road, at school, against Taigen, or in any other dangerous situations. It’s totally not the most ideal thing to control when her girlfriend is being a tease in public.

Her grip on your thighs now tighten, attempting to stay calm. The heat of her palm keeps your legs together, safe in her grip. Her hand by your hip pulls you close, your ears now in range of her voice.

“Do you want to test me?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”, she scoffs, playfully mocking your response, “I’m not sure that’s the right answer, honey.”

You feel her grip on your thigh inch upward, practically centimeters away from your throbbing entrance. She then pulls back, tapping on your thigh as a signal to get off.

You stand up, carefully pulling down your skirt around the others who were too deep into n their own conversations, or too deep in each others throats. Right behind you stood Mizu, one casually placed hand by your hip, and the other more carefully gripping your ass check, giving it a firm squeeze before the leaving the party.

“Let’s figure it out back at home, hmm?”

after getting fucked out all night, i think you’ve learned your lesson with her

from getting fingered in the backseat to filled on the bed to moaning out her name as she ate you out, you promised yourself to never tease her that much ever again

unless you wanted to see god

modern!mizu ‘s eye contact during sex is intense

especially when you’re below her, taking her all in, she’s focused on observing your reaction

she can’t help but stare

and maybe the way your boobs jiggle is another factor too

You feel her eyes glaze down your body, ocean blue eyes taking in the sight of you getting fucked out by none other than a strap of hers. She easily penetrates you again, swiftly entering, lubricated by your liquids. She fills you up, her grip on your waist tightening from how wet you are, your cum smeared all over her thighs.

You groan out her name, grasping onto the sheets with every thrust. Looking up, you meet her gaze, orbs shimmering a light blue against the moonlight. She swiftly enters you again, fully enveloping in your throbbing mess, making your back arch in response. You feel her eyes stay glued to your body, as she rapidly sped up each thrust, further exploring every inch of your insides.

“M-Mizu…”, you moan as she continued to drill your insides.

“Mm, hon, you’re doing so well”, she cooed, cupping one of your boobs with your hands, her grip now loosening on your waist.

You feel her thrusts slow a little, as she gently began to squeeze the softness, her palm warming up against your hardened nipple. Her thumb caresses it, softening the surrounding skin with a circular motion. She enters you deeply, every thrust making the boob in her hand bounce without any handiwork.

Mizu curses to herself, still in awe of how beautiful you are as she watches your reaction, listening to every groan and moan hoping to milk out of you throughout the night.

modern!mizu enjoys waking up earlier than you

everything is at peace when you’re asleep

if you’re more of a heavy sleeper, she doesn’t mind watching over you while quietly sipping some morning tea

if you’re more of a light sleeper, she’ll attempt to slip away with without waking u up. if u do end up stirring awake, she’d tell u to go back to sleep, promising to come back soon

no matter how messy you may look, she likes the peace and quiet whenever she gets the chance to buy breakfast in bed for you two

either way, she’ll be quietly watching over you until you arise :)

[love2poetry]

loml

⤷ mcu!peter parker x artsy!reader

𝜗𝜚. . . synopsis. you are both peter's love and loss of his life

𝜗𝜚. . . general tag. mostly fluff & some angst

.ᐟ. . . content warnings. if you see any grammar mistakes, keep them to yourself pls thx<3 might be cringe tbh

♫⋆｡ our field of dreams, engulfed in fire your arson's match your somber eyes and i'll still see it until i die, you're the loss of my life

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ sophia's letter ! i wrote this as it's raining and can you guess what scented candle i have lighting? 😝 anyway i went through a depressive episode for no reason so i took a hiatus, but i might be back for the summer. i often go through another one when school starts so im gonna do the most now. i was thinking of making a part two for this using 'peter' but idk. anyway, HIIII NEW GRACIE ALBUM THIS WEEK RAGHH

prequel

wc. 1,926

spring had just began, more warm days after months of freezing cold weather. today, however, seemed to be one of the few cold, rainy days february had left. you had finished homework earlier today, always wanting to have your weekends free as much as you can, so you decided to occupy your mind with something else more calming. 

after finishing the last of your ap psychology assignment, you walked to your kitchen and made yourself a quick matcha. as you measured the green powder into your cat mug - a lovely gift peter got you because one of the cats in the bug is a calico, like your own cat - a thud was heard from your room. it was followed by an 'ow' quickly after, causing a small smile to form on your lips.

peter.

at the sudden noice, autumn, your calico cat, run cautiously out of your room. after finishing your matcha with some creamer, you also walked to your room. 

peter looked towards the door upon sensing you. his spidey sense usually only triggered when danger was near, however, when it came to you, peter was able to feel you. he couldn't describe it, but there was something in you that made him feel safe. it was a warm feeling that ran down his spine, and maybe it was because he was in your room, but he could also smell the vanilla lotion you love to use. everything about you made him feel like he was engulfed by a soft blanket.

so it was no surprise that the first thing peter did was offer you a smile. you automatically smile back of course. how could you not when he looks at you like that, like he was going to somehow bring you the moon he often photographed because it made him think of you. 

'it's raining,' peter pointed with a boyish grin. the obvious pitter patter coming from your windows made you tilt your head playfully. 'you don't say.'

peter patrolled the streets of new york everyday as his alter ego, spider-man. but on days like this, he likes to use the weather as an excuse to come see you earlier instead. he has a build in heater in his suit of course, but in his opinion it doesn't work as well as a good cuddling season with you.

peter sets his masks down on your night stand. 'cuddles?'

you took a sip of your matcha as you walked to your desk. 'i have to work on my portfolio.' you heard him walk to your dresser that sat on the corner of your room where you had a drawer with his clothes to change to after patrol. 'i thought you were done with it?' 

'yea, it's just,' your fingers glossed over your sketches. junior year was ending and soon college applications will start. it had been your dream to attend the art school of chicago, and now that applications are around the corner, you want to make sure everything is perfect. 'it doesn't feel complete.'

once peter was out of his wet suit and into his favorite pair of bright pink hello kitty pants matched with a plain white tee, he sneaked his arms around you, taking your comforting scent in. you felt him place a kiss in your hair, 'i think it's perfect.'

you turn to look at him with an unimpressed expression. his smile widens and he can't fight the urge to kiss you any longer. peter gently presses his lips into yours. he's always been delicate with his kisses, especially after being spider-man. you knew it was his way to ground himself after a day of fighting criminals, so you let him be as soft as he needed. 

you loved it that way. you loved him that way.

peter pulls away first. 'i have some photos i took last week. you could draw some if you need.' 

peter's hobby went hand in hand with your art. thanks to being spider-man, he was able to take some shots of new york no one else would be able to obtain, and he often let you sketch them, so often that half of his storage is pictures he takes for you to draw. the other half is probably of you.

you hum in agreement, still looking into peter's eyes. you have never loved brown as much as you do now. 

'tomorrow.' peter took your mug in one hand, then used the other to hold your hand while he drag you over to bed. 'today, we cuddle.' he set your bug on the night stand. 

you smile. 'okay.'

you two settled under your warm covers with you closest to your mug incase you want a sip, but before you could find a comfortable position, peter stood up, muttering a quick 'wait!'. 

you frown, but understood what he was doing when he pulled a lighter from your drawer in the night stand. he lit up the candle that rested on top. apple pumpkin. you bought a few pumpkin scented candles last fall, and peter grew to love this specific one. he wasn't a fan of scented candles because of his enhanced smell, but this one was subtle enough for him to enjoy without getting a headache.

once peter returned to bed, he wrapped his arms around your waist with his head on your chest. he slightly tilted his head to plant a kiss into your skin. 'i love you.'

his whispered confession filled you with butterflies. you don't know what you did to be lucky enough to love this boy in your arms, let alone be loved back by him. one of your hands wrapped around his back, while the other caressed his check, slightly squishing his face. his chuckles echoed in the room along the rain when you started kissing his face. 

two kisses on his right check, two more on the left, three on his forehead, and one on the bridge of his nose. 

'i love you more.'

a bright smile stayed on peter's face as he shook his head. 'that's not possible.' your smile matched his, 'i think it is. no, i know it is.' 

'i love you most.' before you could disagree, you felt his hands sneak under your shirt, cutting you off by tickling your sides. you squeak in surprise and try to squirm away. your laughter fills peter's ears, 'okay! i can't breathe!'

peter paused his movements and you inhale to suggest, 'we both love each other equally.'

peter makes a thinking face. 'i'll let you have this win,' he rolled his eyes playfully before settling in your arms again. 

the two of you stayed intertwined in bed until you felt peter's breathing slow down, indicating he had fallen asleep. his weight was on your side now, but looking down at him you decided you wanted to engrave this moment forever. 

swiftly, you reached for the small sketchbook you keep on your night stand. thankfully, you had left a pencil there too. you sat up slightly, making sure not to disturb peter's slumber. his arms tighten around you making you freeze, but the light snores coming from peter tell you he is still deep in his sleep.

you find a clean page and begin drawing shapes until you like how they all sit together. you move to the face proportions, not focusing on shading yet. your hand makes the hair part look effortless, and it may be from the many times you've drawn these curls. moving back to the face, you use your finger to blend the lines better.

finishing the rough draft, your focus goes to the nose, moving to the freckles you have memorized. 

'stalker.'

peter's deep voice caused a blush to creep into your cheeks. it wasn't the first time peter caught you drawing him, he has seen the many sketches and paintings you've done of him, but you still shy way when his eyes follow every detail of him you've embedded into your mind. 

if only you knew peter feels the same. to know the person he loves more than anything has memorized him, his body and soul, fills him with an indescribable feeling. he does the same with his camera. most of his photos are moments you've shared together that he wants to remember forever. 

peter not having storage on his phone from all the candid pictures he has of you is his version of when you learned to draw the lines that form around his eyes when he smiles.

'shut up,' you nudge your leg against his. there's smiles on both of your faces as peter snuggles closer to you. 

the room is rather dark by now, only the candle peter had previously lit and another lamp you always have create a cozy atmosphere. the warm glow of the lamp reaches your features enough for peter to see and he takes his time to draw his own painting of you in his mind. 

the flickering flame of the candle mixing with the apple pumpkin scent ignite a perfect portrait of peter you ache to fabricate, you take a mental picture for later.

you could be here with peter for all time. 

neither of you knew that it was only momentary. 

peter climbed through the window, a plastic bag in hand. he pulled his mask off, wet hair falling over his eyes. 

the loud thunder from outside shook his apartment. it started raining earlier that day, so peter decided to cut his patrolling short. he hadn't done it in a while.

his body was freezing from the harsh wind that he old suit would have kept him warm from. he walked towards a basket full of his clothes that sat in a corner, that was his dresser for the time being, and grabbed a gray shirt. 

when peter picked up the shirt, he caught a glimpse of what once were a bright magenta hello kitty bottoms, is now a dull shade of pink. with a sinking feeling, peter decided to put them on as well.

he made it to his twin size bed where he left the bag and took out the single purchase he made. 

a small scented candle. apple pumpkin.

once lit, he set it on the small dining table his studio apartment came with. he stared at it until the soft scent filled his nose. his throat closes when memories of you that are still imprinted in his mind come back. peter feels his left eye twitch as tears threaten to spill, but he refuses to cry. 

he can't afford a breakdown. he has no one to turn to anymore. peter doesn't know if he can pick himself back up if he breaks. it was easier with tony because he had may and friends who cared about him. but especially because he had you. 

now may is gone, he's a stranger to his friends, and every detail of peter you had memorized has been erased. 

peter turns back to his bed and pulls the covers to get in. he continues to stare at the flame emotionless, slowly dissociating from his lonesome. 

even after everything, peter can't comprehend how you could go from perfectly drawing the creases on his lips without a reference to not even remembering his name. 

do you still have those pieces of him? 

do you still draw him even now like it is muscle memory?

is he in your dreams like you are in his?

you will continue to occupy peter's mind until the day being spider-man finally kills him. you were his deepest love, and now his greatest loss. 

[killerlookz]

Joost Klein x Goth!Gf Headcannons

content: SFW and NSFW headcannons below the cut, 18+ MDNI, this work contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

SFW Headcannons

You're pretty much his personal makeup artist now, anytime he wants to do his fun little facepaint looks (like the mime or kiss makeup) you're the first one he's asking to help him out

He absolutely doesn't mind you kissing him with your lipstick on and is in no rush to wash off the dark-colored lipstick prints you leave on his cheeks after you do so, sometimes letting them sit there for hours while he goes about his day.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't absolutely love going to the goth clubs. It's definitely a different speed than he's usually used to, and some of the music may be a little slow for his taste but that man just absolutely loves dancing and the nightlife in general.

He definitely dresses up to "fit in" to go to the goth clubs too! Putting on whatever black items he can find in his closet, usually a pair of rugged black jeans adorned with a thick belt either studded or with a big buckle and some black shirt he spent far too much money on. He usually ends up looking more like he's about to join Opium or Drain Gang than he does goth, but your heart entirely melts at the fact that he's trying.

You absolutely inspire him to buy a pair of New Rocks (side note im actually surprised ive never seen him in new rocks they're very his style lol) and he just absolutely towers over you in them, which he finds very amusing (cue him teasing you about being "short" even though the platforms of those shoes are like 10 cm, making him like 198 cm/ 6'5)

If you are wearing big shoes and they start to hurt he will absolutely carry you back to wherever you need to go- The same goes for if you're breaking in new shoes- you're out and about together and all of a sudden you start treading behind him, walking awkwardly due to the blisters forming on your heels and the backs of your ankles- and he knows, you don't even have to say anything, he just stops dead in his tracks, and bends down for you to get on his back.

Thrifting/ DIYing dates!!! It becomes a tradition for the two of you to go out to thrift/consignment stores and pick out pieces for the two of you to style or DIY into something. He loves it especially when you DIY things for him, and always shows off the clothes/accessories you put together for him, "Oh you like my necklace? Yeah, my girlfriend made it for me."

He laces up your corsets for you! No longer do you need to struggle trying to reach behind your back to tie your corsets. He's always so delicate about it too, "You're sure I'm not squeezing you too tight?" Running his hands all along your sides and your hips after he finishes tying it shut.

He definitely just thinks you are so cool, despite having his own unique style himself, he is just in so much awe of you being yourself, and just genuinely finds you to be the coolest person on Earth, whether its the way you do your makeup, or dress, or the music you listen to, he's just obsessed.

He'll absolutely tease you a little bit though, cue him singing "Because toniiiight will be the noiiight that I will fall for yewwww over agaiiiin" at you because he knows it pisses you off *just a little* you'll chastise him for that being emo not goth, but he still finds it funny regardless, and he loves seeing that little smile you give him when you're trying to pretend to be mad at him, but really you're holding back a laugh

He loves when you wear his necklaces or his fancy belts to accessorize with

Getting tattoos together is a muuuust, he's not so into the idea of matching tattoos, but just spontaneously on a whim being like, "hey do you wanna get another tattoo today?"

NSFW Headcannons

You CANNOT count how many new fishnet tights you've had to buy from Joost being far too impatient to get you undressed, bending you over, lifting up your skirt and just ripping the flimsy fabric open, not even bothering to take them off of you.

However, when the sex is more romantic he absolutely loves taking his time with you, so delicately removing each of your layers (and us goth girlies know... we wear a looot of layers lmaoo) he just loves being all sensual about it, he also just for sure enjoys teasing you with how excruciatingly slow he is about it.

Loves seeing how much he can ruin your makeup, whether its smudged lipstick or eyeliner dripping down your face, the messier the better.

In addition to fucking up your makeup he loves when you go down on him while you're wearing lipstick, the way your lipstick smears as you take him in your mouth, god he finds it so hot.

Obsessed with when you wear leather or latex!! Oof the way the tight, shiny material hugs your body, he cannot get enough, and honestly is ready to take it off of you the second you slip it on.

He absolutely adores you in lace too (especially black lacey lingerie) when you wear lacey tops with nothing but a bra underneath... (same can be said for a fishnet top) oooooh girl he is absolutely feral, the way you're technically "covered" but still exposed in all the right spots... whew

If you have long/pointy nails he looves feeling you dig them into him as he fucks you,

Whenever the two of you go out to the goth clubs things definitely get very steamy, always ending up with his arms wrapped around your waist and your ass pressed against his crotch as your bodies move together to the dark, slow, synthy music.

He loves it when you bite him! Always calling you his little vampire as you suck on his neck, leaving pretty little lovebites and lipstick smudges on his skin. (vampire/blood kink goes brrrr wait what who said that hAHAHHAHHA)

Fucking to goth music is a MUST... not sorry about it, bands like Depeche Mode and She Wants Revenge are top tier sex music, him mumbling along to Tear You Apart, his lips pressing into your neck, sending vibrations down your spine as he slowly undresses you.

Also fucking while watching horror movies hehehehe, there's just something about the suspense and tension that gets your blood going, one second you're watching the TV anxiously, and the next second he's on top of you as you're begging for him to please fuck you.

[the-record]

ICU

SUMMARY: ellies lost her keys…again… luckily dina’s pretty friend has an empty bed

PAIRING: ellie williams x reader

WARNINGS: none?

A/N: i missed these and yall!! not fully back but i miss writing also if u see stranger things content don’t be alarmed! still v much in love with ellie and abs

‘ I FEEL SOMETHING WHEN I SEE YOU NOW ‘

elliewilliams

elliewilliams LET ME INNNNNNNN. JOEL PLEASE LET ME INNNNNNNN

tagged: joelmmm

load comments…

dina_nolastname BAAHHAHA IMAGIWN 

   elliewilliams i HATE you CRY URSELF TO SLEEP

joelmmm 💤💤💤

   elliewilliams JOEL PLEASE UTS COLD

   elliewilliams IM TIRED AND IM VERY SORRY 

   elliewilliams JOELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

jessesucks go to tommy and marias stupid

   elliewilliams why didnt i think of that? oh wait I DID ITS 2 AM AND THEY HAVE A BABY STUPJD HOW DID YOU EVEN GRADUATE??!!?!?!

yourusername did u lose ur key again

   elliewilliams …no… also HOW DO U KNOW AB THAT?!?!

      yourusername dina talks a LOT when shes drunk

angel: ellie come to mine

ellie: huh?

a: ur locked out, im not, my beds made, urs probably isnt, come over.

e: u barely know me?!?!?

a: dina trusts u idc, come over rn or ill pick u up.

e: send me ur address.

“this was really nice of you.” ellies voice breaks the silence as make room for her beside you. you wave your hand, no worries, but she insists. “no seriously, you could’ve let me die. freeze. starve even.”

when you laugh she doesn’t think she’s ever heard a better sound. “ellie i don’t think any of those things would’ve happened.” you smile and lean on an elbow to look at her. “and i really don’t mind, gets lonely anyways. need a loser dork to fill the silence.” you tease.

she gasps in faux hurt, tracing an imaginary tear down her face.

elliewilliams

elliewilliams an ANGEL yall. $10,000,000 for her and her only.

tagged: yourinstagram

load comments…

yourusername bye i let you stay over a night 😭 i didnt cure cancer

   elliewilliams ur right. $100,000,000 mb

dina_nolastname *sighs*

   elliewilliams i hate you.

joelmmm yourusername I am so sorry Ellie intruded, I’ll pay you for your time and kindness. 

   yourusername 😭😭 damn

      elliewilliams ignore him, he drinks

         yourusername its 8 am.

jessesucks oh you will NEVER live this down.

   elliewilliams blocked.

a_anderson you are an embarrassment to society!

   elliewilliams i hate all of u.

e: hey!

a: real chipper today huh

e: didn’t lose my key all week so yes very

e: i have a question tho

a: lmao im gonna steal ur key from u, whats up?

e: do u wanna go to a concert this weekend??

e: i bought the tickets for dina and i but she cancelled last minute and jesse cant go

e: its like 2 hours away on saturday 

e: also do NOT touch my key please i m begging

a: yea actually id love too :)

a: text me the details

e: great

e: okay yea ofc

elliewilliams 

elliewilliams so…

tagged: yourusername 

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dina_nolastname MRS STEAL UR GIRL 

   elliewilliams SHE WAS NEVER URS!!!

jessesucks GASPING when did this development occur.

   elliewilliams 🤓☝️

      jessesucks BREAK UP

yourusername girl on the left is sooo fine

   elliewilliams crazy, im more into the one on the right

   dina_nolastname yall r EMBARRASSING 

joelmmm yourinstagram Come for dinner tomorrow! Would love to meet Ellie’s pick of the month. 🩷

   yourinstagram GOODBYEEE

   elliewilliams JOEL?!?!??!!!??!

yourusername

yourusername in an interesting turn of events…

tagged: elliewilliams

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jessesucks GAG

   yourusername this is why dina dumped you! 💋

      dina_nolastname BYEEE true tho

elliewilliams bruh we are so cute

   yourusername okay “bruh”

      elliewilliams WIAT OM SORRY

dina_nolastname mrs. stolen girl 💔💔

   yourusername im always urs bae 

a_anderson wheres MY cute gf damn.

   yourusername I KNOW SOMEONE WHOO LIIIIIIKES YOU!!

      a_anderson SPILL. 

   elliewilliams go away! 💋

a: hey

e: hi

a: come over?

a: please?

e: are you okay??

a: just please come over.

e: im omw right now

e: be there in 10

e: unlock the front door

a knock on your door wakes you from the light sleep you’d been in. a small ‘come in’ has ellie gently opening the door and walking softly towards your bed. her hands brush hair from your face, a kind smile on her face. something you can’t pinpoint in her eyes.

“you doing okay babe?” her voice is just above a whisper, though no one else would be home to hear it otherwise. “tired?”

you hum an answer out and reach for one of her hands, fiddling with her rings and avoiding her eyes. “can you turn off the light and sit with me?” she smiles and nods, savoring one more second before standing and taking off her jacket while walking to the switch.

its still light out, the evening sun beginning to set but still lighting up enough of your room. as she’s getting in beside you, she notices what you’re wearing. “nice shirt,” ellie says with a snort.

its one of hers, you stole it a few weeks ago with no intention of giving it back. her heart grows as a small smile graces your features. “there she is.” you flush and turn away. she coos teasingly while getting comfortable behind you.

when you do turn, shes the perfect pillow. her fingers trace your features as your eyes shutter closed.

e: hi love, you wanna do something today?

a: you have something in mind?

e: thought we could go bowling 

e: that new bowling place just opened downtown, looks cute

a: kinda tired. do something at home?

e: alreadyomw with snacks for u

a: youre the best.

a: i miss you.

e: i miss you too. you doing okay?

a: are you at work

a: im tired

e: i get off in 30 

e: come over to mine, joel will let you in

a: okay

elliewilliams 

elliewilliams bbg needs a NAP theyre grouchy

tagged: yourusername 

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yourusername i know where you live.

   elliewilliams LOVE YA!

joelmmm Photo creds.

   elliewilliams sighs.

dina_nolastname angel ALWAYS needs nap bro gets really grumpy

   yourusername I ALSO KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

      dina_nolastname see? grumpy.

jessesucks we’ve all seen the pictures she looks absolutely BEAUTIFUL, uhm… and he’s there… (ellie is he)

   dina_nolastname (ellie is he) BYE

   yourusername HEY JESSIE WOAHHH FEELS LIKE A PARTY EVERYDAY

   elliewilliams remember when dina dumped u?

a: can we go to the aquarium 

e: you feel up to it?

a: no obviously i asked because i don’t 

e: OKAY SORRY DAMN

e: god just being a supportive girlfriend and this is what i get. 

a: GOODBYE I DONT WANNA GO ANYMORE

e: no im sorry im sorry im sorry i wanna go

a: YAY

a: pick me up in 30 pls

e: of course love 

e: im glad you’re feeling better

e: very excited rn

yourusername

yourusername finally left the house after 72628748829 years 

tagged: elliewilliams

load comments…

elliewilliams @ the guy who took this for us ur so real

   yourusername YEA!!!!!!

dina_nolastname yall r so cute CRY

   yourusername u want me fr

jessesucks ICK

   dina_nolastname this is why i dumped u

elliewilliams 

elliewilliams a moment for the gf!

tagged: yourusername

load comments…

yourusername OF ALL THE THINGS YOU POST THIS?!?!? THIS?!!!!!!!?

   elliewilliams but u look so pretty

      yourusername CHOKE ily

         elliewilliams I love YOU

dina_nolastname my wife is so gorg

   elliewilliams back off?

      yourusername LADIES LADIES theres enough of me to go around

jessesucks cute ig

joelmmm You found a good one babygirl! 

   elliewilliams DAMN RIGHT I DID

e: hey i love you

a: i love you too

a: u lose ur key again?

e: …

a: ffs come over good god

e: already here!

a: R U IN MY KITCHEN??!

e: ur mom says hi

e: be up in a sec!! snacks!

[kimsunos]

Vampire sunoo with a s/o that has a biting kink

ALL MINE ☆ SUNOO SMUT

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (18+ CONTENT)

in which you have a biting kink your vampire boyfriend didn't know about.

tags: afab!reader, dom!sunoo, sub!reader, vampire!sunoo, mentions of blood, biting kink, praising, breeding.

words: 800

a/n: sorry for the delay as i said i'm coping with a lot of mental health issues but i love to write so im not abandoning here! this is very short but i liked how it turned out so im posting as an actual smut anyways thank you guys for waiting 💗🪽

he's thrusting deep and hitting every place, doing so well for you, making you feel so full. his hands are feeling your body desperately, trying to memorize your curves and lines, as if you were to disappear any second now. "beautiful." he says with adoring eyes as his mouth finds your exposed neck after abusing your lips until they got all red and swollen, kissing and licking the area.

he was hungry, starving for you, it was impossible to control himself if you kept clenching and milking his dick that way. he needed to make you completely his right now by his own will, because soon the switch would flip and only the animalistic instincts were going to take over his body.

he playfully bites the skin of your neck, gently, just to test the waters, afraid he might scare you. he was expecting a gasp of pain, surprise, even a giggle because he knows how necks are sensitive and everything tickles. he was really expecting anything, anything but the sinful, lustful, depraved pleasure moan you let out.

he stopped moving, eyes widening. "what was that, princess?" a smirk slowly creeping up his face. your cheeks got red and your face hot.

"i'm sorry." you said, avoiding eye contact, using your hands to cover your face. "it was nothing, keep moving, please." he only devilishly grined and raised an eyebrow, his sharp fangs showing. "pleaseeee, sun, just move." you whined, embarrassed.

"oh, dear…" you could hear a smile in his voice. "if it was nothing, i guess we should just keep going, right?" he kissed your neck in the same spot he bit earlier and continued his movements. it was good, obviously, but there was something missing, that pain that hurts so good, enough to make you feel stars.

and missing it so badly, you start to cry out of frustration. so desperately wanting again the alluring sensation of his teeth on your skin. you wanted to feel how much would his fangs sink, if he would have mercy or not, you needed to know and to feel it over and over.

"darling? why are you crying?" he says with a pout, feigning sympathy, lazily thrusting back and forth. he absolutely knows what you're up to.

"sunoo-" you whimper, reaching to cup his face with your hands. your eyes are shining with the tears. "sunoo, please." you look so defenseless. "do it again." he smirked as you said it.

"do what, my dear?" he knows what. but he needs to make you beg for what you want before caving in. you breathe, searching for courage.

"bite me." your voice went out in a whisper as you begged.

he smiled, really brightly.

"as you wish." devouring your neck with wet kisses and continuing his work with his hips, quicker this time.

"oooh, oh my god." you moaned as you finally felt his fangs sinking into your skin. the pleasure was unbearable, overwhelming, making you cross your legs around him, pulling him even closer. you craved more. "bite me more, sunoo. bite me again, please. bite me." you chanted as in a spell and he sank his teeth even more, feeding on your blood.

you could hear him moaning too, the sounds of your own moans and the skin slapping blending together. just like you, he was close to his release.

"delicious." he said, lifting his head from your neck, using the back of his hand to clean the blood staining his plump lips red. "you're all mine now, y/n." his foxy eyes devouring you entirely, and his voice trembling. "a-all mine. all mine. i can't- believe, you're finally all mine." his thrusts started to get even more desperate and messy, hitting your core amazingly as you were so sensitive in your entire body. the two bruises on your neck were stinging so good just adding to the pleasure. "my p-perfect princess, finally mine, right?"

"ooh, s-sunoo, yes, i- am."

"i'm- i'm going to stuff you full, my darling." he panted. "going to be- ah, dripping for days. so full of me, right?" you could only moan at his obscene remarks. "mine. forever." he said as his cum painted your walls white, filling you up, you following right after.

sunoo collapsed on top of you, his cold skin gently warming up because of your human heat. he loved to feel your heart beating, so full of blood and life.

"sun." you said.

"hm?"

"can i bite you?"

© kimsunos, 2023.

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW!Gladiator/AFAB!reader

Tmi warning but I'm about to start my period and I've been loosing my mind over fictional men. It's like ovulating but WORSE. Mostly over Cable, but @lina-lovebug sent in an ask about gladiator from episode 6 and although I'm definitely going to write it I got distracted while doing research on him and this kinda happened!!! Speaking of which, in your ask you said you were starving for content for him so I figured I go ahead and tag you :) sorry if NSFW isn't your thing.

Anyway, Big, serious men with no humor are making me absolutely feral this week IM NAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSRE UGHHHH For those who don't remember gladiator is, He's the hot purple dude that punched the shit out of the bird lady lol

TWs: MDNI!!! Pnv sex. Name calling. Not degradation tho. Too many positions, too much stamina. Purple alien man doesn't know how to process his feelings for you™

Imagine annoying gladiator with your every being. You just can't help it. Most of the time the stoic man just ignores you outright, never smiling nor even acknowledging you, period.

To be honest, he didn't like how talkative you were. You were always running your mouth about something or other, and when you weren't, you were teasing him. Holding simple and insignificant "victories" over his head due to your origin as a mutated human terran.

On your side, you just wanted him to acknowledge you. You figured he wouldn't be able to ignore you forever. Whatever strange relationship the two of you had, the one thing that seemed to affect him the most was your mutant abilities - or specifically, the parts of your abilities that effect your stamina.

When you realized you had a stamina bar that very much rivaled gladiators own, your teasing had started to take a turn towards something a little more lustful.

You just never expected Gladiator to take you up on your offer to have a friendly little "stamina competition."

You've lost count of how many positions the two of you have gone through. Both of you are panting, sweaty- sticky. Really sticky. Who knows how much time is passed, but neither of you are willing to quit now. Gladiator currently has your knees over his shoulders, pounding into your slick cunt steadily. His hands are holding onto your hips in a tight grip, pulling you onto him each time he bottoms out.

"You are... infuriating. Annoying. Agh- Hah-... Greedy. I've pushed you to the brink, and still, you want more." Kallark says above you, his voice still surprisingly steady in between his moans of pleasure. Your own throat is sore from taunting him in between your own moans and screams of delight.

"I-fuck! I can go as long as you go, pretty boy." You say, smirking at him. Gladiator Scowls at you, face flushed, sweat beading down his forehead. You doubt you look much better, the both of you pushing each other to the farthest limits of your stamina. You let out an embarrassing shriek as Kallark leans forward, bending you in half as he presses your thighs to your chest, hitting the deepest spots inside of you. Kallark's usually steady thrusting begins to become a little more frantic as he starts to reach his umpteenth peak of the day. -but his thrusts become unsteady. Inconsistent. You're finally starting to tire him out, you think.

"Aww, look at that- ah... You're beginning to slip, Kallark." You taunt him. His hand reaches up to cup your face harshly, his grip slightly tighter than normal. He turns your head to face him as his heated gaze pierces your own.

"Would you- please, stop talking."

By the time the two of you are finally out of breath, you swear that At least an entire 24 hour period has gone by. Hell, maybe even longer. You and gladiator are sprawled out side by side. Your eyes are closed, fading in and out of consciousness as you try (and fail) to collect yourself. You feel weight shift next to you as Kallark rolls onto his side. He's full on against you now, a hand settling on your chest to feel the quick beats of your human heart. It's strange. Not like him. You open your eyes, finding yourself lost in the sight of Kallark. He's looking at you with a mix of fond emotions, and for the first time, it's almost like his brain has stalled. Like a computer stuck in between the loading screen.

"Kallark?” You whisper. He doesn't respond. Doesn't even blink.

“You okay there, big guy?" You try again, biting your lip. Kallark's gaze catches the motion, then trailing down to the bruises he's left in your neck- “hickeys” is what he remembers you calling them. He can feel his heart do something strange, and he chooses to look back up at your face instead. Your flushed cheeks. Kiss-swollen lips. Messy hair. He feels a familiar heat as his body reacts to such a lustful sight.

"Vixen. Temptress. I know not what you've done to me. " Kallark finally says, thumb gently pulling your bottom lip away from the pinch of your teeth. You raise an eyebrow at him, not mockingly, just confused. He then reaches up to brush the hair from your face, an action fueled by a much more gentle warmth in his chest.

"...I don't believe you know what you've done, either." He whispers. You can't help but smile at him, especially as you reach up to caress his cheek and he leans into the contact with a sigh.

"Well… we have plenty of time to figure that out together."

[honeekyuu]

in twenties. [matsuhana].

>> issei always donates in twenties <<

_____________________

tags: minors dni !!, matsuhana camboy au, camboy!makki x hotel employee!mattsun, spit kink, matsuhana don't know each other, masturbation, dom/sub undertones, makki's a tease and mattsun is a down bad simp

wc: 2.9k

a/n: prompt request for @haikyuuaction !! a little different than my usual content, but this was so much fun to write and now im in serious matsuhana brainrot. enjoy!!

_____________________

“Sorry, sweetheart – No matter how much you beg, it won’t sway my decision.”

“Room 303,” Issei says politely, passing the room key to the pair of women with both hands. He uses one to gesture behind him, script memorized down to the intonation when he points. “Elevators are on my right-” Gestures to his left, to the open dining room. “-and complimentary breakfast is available every morning from 8am to 10am.” Gestures behind the guests, to the row of refrigerators against the wall. “Refreshments are available for purchase 24/7.” Gestures to himself. “I’ll be here until morning if you need anything else.”

“-raffle’s left up to the highest bidder. I know you know that, baby.”

Both women smile gratefully – one eyes him up and down, but Issei’s gotten good at pretending he doesn’t see it – and they pull their luggages to the elevator bay down the hall. He waits two more minutes. The elevators always come in two minutes.

For two minutes, he scrolls aimlessly on the computer’s logbook, typing in nonsense and then deleting it. Mussing up his hair so it covers his ears better. Covers the one headphone he has in – on his right side, because he most often shows guests his left.

“Maybe, sure. If you think you have what it takes to handle me.” 

Issei glances over his shoulder, into the storage room. He’s the only one on shift, but his manager’s been known to make a late-night appearance. To hover a little too close, to smile a little too sweetly down at him. She’s nice, really, and he likes his job. And it would work on anyone else. He thinks she knows that. He thinks maybe she’s frustrated that it hasn’t worked on him.

“And don’t forget the rules. Either pique my interest or pay your way to a night with me. Your gamble.”

The elevator dings. Two sets of suitcase wheels bump over the threshold. One woman whispers something, and the other woman giggles. Issei’s not humble enough to think it’s not about him.

The doors shut.

Issei flies to the other end of the registration bay, ass planted on the stool in the corner and back pressed tight against the wall. Phone in his hand, volume turned up. 

God, Makki’s pretty.

His cock is long, not too girthy and not too veiny. And his hand – fuck, Issei could stare at Makki’s hands all day – wraps tight around the base, easy and comfortable. The tip of him is shiny with spit, worked down by the man’s twisting palm. A lazy flick of his wrist, a careless brush of his thumb over the slit. His mouth moves – back and forth, collecting saliva – and then his head dips down, pink head of hair on display and the rest of his face cleverly hidden from view. A glob of spit drops sweetly on the head of his cock, slipping down the shaft just as he’s collecting it with his palm.

Issei swallows hard and shifts in his seat. Crosses his legs, just in case his manager comes in. Glances at the automatic double doors and then at the clock on the computer. 1:27AM, it blinks at him.

He raises the volume one more notch.

He lifts his thumb to the section of buttons at the bottom of his screen, each one a different amount to quick-donate. He presses on the highest option, for ten dollars. And then again. He always donates in twenties.

Makki’s mouth twists into a smirk that makes Issei’s stomach curl with desire. 

“Always good to see you, Mattsun95. Shouldn’t you be sleeping, baby?”

Issei thinks he might have just moaned a little bit. 

He types with shaky fingers. ‘i always make time for you, makki. even at work.’

“At work?” Makki’s laugh is deep, sultry. It takes a very special amount of effort for Issei not to shiver visibly. “You’re gonna get caught, sweet boy. I can’t have you getting fired.”

Issei doesn’t know where he gets the confidence from. He’s not a particularly nervous man, no – but when it involves the camboy he’s been following for close to two years now, every interaction leaves him breathless and shaky. Still, he sends a response.

‘why? worried i won’t be able to afford you anymore, princess?’ 

The streamer’s mouth drops open, shocked at Issei’s cheeky response, and he gives a laugh of disbelief. “And if I say yes?” He shifts his weight, his torso moving to show just a little bit of the room behind him. Issei doesn’t pay it an ounce of attention, but he recognizes in the back of his mind that the room’s not unfamiliar. Maybe Makki’s filmed there before.

The man responds to a few more comments, working himself up to a quiet pant on camera. He leans forward briefly and lets more spit fall down to the head of his cock.

Issei donates twenty more dollars.

Makki snickers as soon as the chime goes through. “Knew it’d be you, Mattsun. You like when I spit on it, huh?” 

‘looks pretty when you do,’ Issei comments. ‘bet i could do it better though.’

“Oh,” Makki laughs. Issei’s cock is long past hard, but that laugh makes it twitch every time without fail. “Is that right?” Issei glances at the clock again. 1:35AM. “I wouldn’t be mad if you won that raffle, sweetheart.” 

Issei presses a palm to his mouth, breathing hard. A night alone with Makki, all to himself. He could only hope to be so lucky.

‘bid’s already up to 800,’ he sends. ‘baiting me won’t work, pretty’

Makki groans in disappointment, shifting again. Issei’s eyes glance over the wallpaper, just past the man’s shoulder. He freezes, staring. 

No. 

No. 

Black and white geometric patterning with gold edges, right there in the video for him to see. Issei’s eyes fly to the stack of pamphlets sitting at the front desk, his blood running cold. Pamphlets that show examples of the rooms offered at this very hotel. 

Black and white geometric patterning.

Gold edges. 

“Shit,” he breathes, eyes defocusing as he realizes. As he processes.

His gaze shoots to the computer, to the logbook visible even from where he sits. His heart lurches into his throat, and his breathing picks up.

Makki must have checked in before his shift started. It couldn’t have been after he’d gotten here. He would have recognized the man’s voice. He’s dreamt about it — fantasized about it and come to the sound of it — enough times. He would have known the moment he’d heard it. 

Issei has Makki’s personal information available to him, right here. His first and last name. His room number. 

No. 

Issei swallows, shaking his head. No, he can’t — he won’t. He wouldn’t be able to live with that breach of privacy. He already feels guilty for even considering it. 

But that means he’s here. In this hotel. He’s filming a live show right here, and Issei is watching it in the same building. 

His cock twitches in his slacks, straining hard against the material as he stares down at nothing. A deep groan sounds in his right ear, and his eyes drop down to his phone screen. 

Makki’s head is thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing. His thighs are pressed open, the shot of the edge of the bed filled with his rocking hips and rhythmic flick of his wrist, fingers smeared with pre-cum and fresh saliva.

Issei taps down on the quick-donate button twice mechanically. A habit, a muscle reaction — trained to always donate twenty when Makki spits on his cock. 

He knows Makki knows this by now. He’d all but said it out loud not five minutes ago. 

The strawberry blond’s head flies up at the sound of money dropping in his account, and his hand stops moving as he searches the notifications. He grins.

“There you are. I was wondering where you’d gone.” 

Issei’s breath is ripped out of his lungs. He’s not sure it’s okay to want someone – someone he doesn’t even know – this badly.

“Again?” Makki asks, and something burns in Issei’s veins when he hears how earnest he sounds. Like he’s not asking for the money anymore.

‘i see what ur doing,’ he comments, glancing quickly at the clock. 1:42AM. And then at the security camera on the wall. He definitely can’t touch himself here. ‘ur not gonna get me to highest bid like this’

“I can try, can’t I?” Makki jokes. He’s started ignoring other comments, ignoring other people’s requests for attention. Issei doesn’t have the heart to tell him the highest bid’s almost at $950 now. Nine hundred and fifty dollars for a night with the man of his dreams. Issei could never afford that, ever. He can barely pay rent as it is, given his rather expensive weekly hobby. 

Makki spits on the tip of his cock again. 

Issei always donates in twenties. 

“God, you’re easy,” Makki says when the donation chimes in his stream. He sounds breathless, giddy. “You want me that bad?” 

‘yes.’ 

Makki’s breath catches when Issei responds bluntly — his hand freezes, and his chest rises and fall unevenly while he stares at the screen. And then he swears, quiet and to himself, but Issei hears it anyway. 

“Shit.”

Fuck this.

Issei stands up from the stool quickly. He reaches under the counter and grabs the ‘Be Back Soon!’ placard. Slams it down on the desk and all but runs to the employee bathroom in the back. Locks himself inside and presses his back to the door, breathing hard. 

His cock is in his hand in seconds, belt flying open and hitting the wall as his slacks fall to his knees. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, stroking hard and fast to catch up to Makki. He never manages to come at the same time as the man on the screen, but fuck if he hasn’t tried. His head drops back against the door, and his hips cant forward to meet his fist. All he has to do is imagine that beautiful head of pink hair before him, those beautiful hands on his thighs as that beautiful mouth sinks down around him—

“Where’d you go, Mattsun?” 

Issei hadn’t counted on Makki still talking to him.

“You disappeared, baby. Can’t have been to do your job,” he mocks, and Issei knows he can’t look down at his phone or he’s done for. “You too busy to type one-handed, is that it?”

Makki knows. He knows, he knows, and if Issei thinks too hard, he’ll think about the fact that there’s only a few floors between him and the Makki who knows that Issei’s jerking off to his voice at this very moment. 

“You’re really gonna leave me like this?” Makki’s voice is more needy now, needy in the way Issei’s come to recognize as him being close to his orgasm. “You’re gonna let someone else make me come? You don’t wanna be here when it happens?” 

Issei squeezes his eyes shut, quiet groans falling past his lips as he brings himself painfully close to the edge. 

He hears it — the sound of Makki spitting. He knows it all too well. 

Issei makes sure Makki hears it, too — the sound of his response, two cash jingles hitting the account.

Makki groans his name, low and deep and loud enough to make Issei gasp, goosebumps starting in the crown of his head and cascading down over his body in a violent, ruthless wave. He comes, hips stuttering and twitching as he spills out onto the linoleum tile with a choked moan and the whisper of ‘fuck, fuck, Makki—’. 

He’s not sure how much time passes, but he’s slumped against the door, dragging down gulps of air and trying to remember his own name. He hears Makki’s voice on the other end, quieter and softer now that he’s finishing up. 

“-anks for watching, everyone. Uhm… yeah — I guess I’ll decide on the raffle soon, or something.” He laughs, like he’s just said something stupid, and Issei’s not in his right mind enough to piece together what that’s about. “Okay. Goodnight.”

He’s gone, the screen black, before Issei can even get his pants back on. It’s 1:47. It had taken him less than five minutes to come.

He stands there, weak-kneed and shaking, for a few more minutes before cleaning up. He returns to his post, putting the placard away with a little shame in his post-orgasm embarrassment, and sits at the counter. Finds mundane things to occupy his time while he waits for the sun to come up. 

Wonders when Makki’s next stream will be — if maybe he could ever be bold enough to DM the man after what had happened between them tonight. If he would get blocked or teased for thinking he had a shot. 

Sometime around 7AM — when Issei’s reaching the stage of his shift where he hides his face behind one hand so he can close his eyes — the little bell at the desk rings. 

He blinks, sitting up straight. “Good morning. How can I—”

It’s Makki. 

Issei stares, his script forgotten, intonation and all. 

Pink hair, pretty lips, and hands that could put Issei in the ground.  

It’s Makki.

The man stares back, hair falling in his eyes. He’s only got a backpack with him. 

“Uh-” He starts, smiling slightly when he realizes this hotel employee has literally just gotten lost in his eyes. “Good morning?” 

Issei flies out of his seat, all six feet, three inches of him wobbling as he stands. He stares at the man with wide eyes, overcome with about eight different feelings at the sound of his voice (six of them directly related to desire). 

“Good morning,” he says again, and then he watches Makki’s eyebrows lift in amusement. His lips twist into a smirk, and he flits his eyes quickly over Issei’s form.

Gives Issei a once-over at seven in the morning. Flicks his eyebrows when he likes what he sees.

He likes what he sees. 

“Good morning,” he repeats back for the second time. “Is it okay if I check out, or do you wanna keep playing this?” 

Issei thinks he might pass out. 

“S-Sorry, Sir,” he stutters, both hands reaching out in the polite way he was trained. “I need your room key.” Makki’s head tilts with bemusement, and Issei clears his throat. “Er-Please.” 

His fingers brush over Issei’s palm when he lays the thick plastic card in his hand. 

“‘s a cute touch,” he says, nodding at Issei in his stupid hotel uniform with his stupid little hotel hat that his stupid hotel boss makes him wear. “Calling me ‘Sir’. ‘s cute.” 

Issei moves to the computer quickly, trying not to think about the feeling of his skin or the meaning in his words. 

Room 219. 

He’d been one floor above Issei’s head the whole time. 

“Shit,” he breathes to himself without meaning to.

“Sorry?” Makki says, brows furrowing but a smile ticking at the side of his mouth. 

Issei flushes. “Sorry. Nothing-Sorry.” 

Makki’s grin widens. Issei feels a pair of eyes trailing over his body while he stumbles through the check-out process he usually knows so well.

Hanamaki Takahiro. 

Oh.

He probably shouldn’t have that information. He definitely shouldn’t have that information. 

He thinks fast, trying to figure out how to fix this. He’d only been doing his job, but now he knows too much. 

“Did you enjoy your stay with us?” he asks distractedly, reaching for a pen and clicking it twice while he looks for a pad of paper. 

“Sure did,” Makki says. Issei hopes he can’t see the goosebumps rising on his arms. “Still am.” 

The snort that bubbles out of him is unintentional, nervous. He glances at Makki, seeing the man watching him with thinly veiled interest. He writes quickly on the notepad, and then he clicks the pen and tosses it on the desk, reaching for the receipt that’s printing behind him.

“Well, Sir,” he says, sliding the receipt across the counter and pursing his lips when Makki smiles at the name again. “Here’s your receipt. And-uhm-” 

He slides the slip of paper over, too. Makki takes it with lifted eyebrows. 

Matsukawa Issei; 26

xxx-xxx-xxxx

“-I don’t have any twenties on me at the moment,” he mumbles. Makki’s eyebrows furrow as he stares at the paper, confused for a moment.

And then he understands. 

His eyes fly up to Issei’s, shock and alarm flashing through his gaze as he realizes. His lips part, frown digging deep, but he stops. Stares.

His consternation fades into simple surprise, and then interest again. 

“But hopefully this will work just as well,” Issei finishes, his face burning. 

Makki stares, for a long, long moment, eyes flicking between Issei’s while he thinks. And then he blinks. He folds the paper and slips it into the front pocket of his jeans. Swallows and nods. Meets Issei’s eyes and then looks away. His cheeks are tinged with pink. 

He walks away without another word, disappearing through the automatic double doors and into the sunlight. 

Issei sinks into his chair with a rattled sigh, all his energy drained. 

“Holy shit.” 

He sits, dumbfounded, for what feels like an hour, staring at nothing. A quiet ping from the computer shakes him from his state of shock. It’s only been ten minutes, apparently. 

There’s a brand new review for the hotel, the comment left on their page. 

[7:24AM] 

Anonymous: stay was fantastic. staff was friendly, even in the middle of the night — mattsun was particularly helpful. 10/10.

[heart2beom]

second lead syndrome

pairing: taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff, just tons of fluff

synopsis: taehyun, your neighbor, has been helping you out with beomgyu, the best friend you've been in love with for your entire life. when you finally score a date, albeit taehyuns plan working, you're in crisis.

because you start getting second thoughts.

warning: purposeful wrong tagging for more reach. sorry babes im greedy 😭 though i dont specify pronouns, this is more fem leaning!!

notes: i wrote this in only an hour, not the most quality work but i had to release something for my favorite man's birthday hello????!?! also was listening to this is what falling in love feels like by JVKE on repeat, if that helps with the reading experience. i have no idea if it does. lol as always, reblogging will help the algorithm pick this up so as a content creator, ill love you for it.

you were extremely fidgety as you looked at yourself in the mirror -- this was the fourth outfit you've changed into. you slightly chewed on your bottom lip, furrowing your brows together thinking...none of this felt real, that was one thing you were sure of. preparing to go on a date with beomgyu...it's like dying and actually walking up the stairs of heaven.

the man that was all your firsts yet, felt like a distant, unachievable dream. the man that makes you go to sleep with the biggest smile, and the man that makes you kick your feet, squealing into your pillow even after long graduating high school. he felt just like a celebrity crush. a celebrity crush, someone you'll never ever have the chance to date.

that is, until taehyun moved in next door. you heard rumors from the old ladies at the apartments' lobby that he was a genius, a young einstein if you will, graduating seoul university with top marks.

you don't know what, but something possessed you to go knock at his door's flat, pushing a welcome basket of bread in his arms, saying word for word, "teach me how to make a guy fall in love with me". of course, you managed to squeak out a please for politeness sake.

it was the built up desperation, you guessed looking back. but despite thinking highly of taehyun's mind, you never expected whatever voodoo steps he made up to actually work. sure, it took...what? like, months and twenty bucks every now and then, but it worked.

you turned away from your mirror, looking back at the man occupying your bed, cocking your head to the side.

"what? are you feeling like you're dreaming again?" he asks, mirroring your action. "want me to pinch you?"

you exhale, exhausted. "i need to change."

which taehyun sat up straight to, "again? i already told you, you look pretty."

you roll your eyes to that comment. maybe getting a man to help you prepare for a date wasn't the brightest idea you've had, though, you aren't particularly known for having bright ideas anyway.

"i need an honest opinion, but you just keep on saying oh you look good, oh you look pretty" you mock, deepening your voice to mimic taehyuns'. before he could retaliate, you add "and it's not helping, at all."

it was silent for a while, until he folded his arms,"you want me to give my honest opinion?" he asked. and you nod, frantically at that.

"brutally honest, hit me with the straight, cold facts." you say, preparing yourself by straightening your shoulders.

"well, for one" he starts, to which you take a deep breath at anticipation, "you'll never make it on time for your dream date. that's one fact."

you groan, walking in your stupidly long heels to sit on the edge of your bed, next to taehyun. "okay, well, that's a given at this point. give me something else."

"and you're incredibly, weirdly nervous for a movie date with your best friend. that's another fact." he had put his phone face down next to him, now with his legs crossed, as he looked out for your reaction.

"taehyun." you drawl, beyond annoyed.

"what?", he asked innocent, like he wasn't just taunting you. all you did was give him a death glare, which earned an airy laugh from him.

"alright, i'll be serious now, i promise." he said, scooching up to sit directly by your side now, his legs touching yours with how close he was.

"starting with your face— don't get mad, you asked for this." he warned with a raised finger, which made you nervously gulp. did you really look that bad? you nodded to reassure him to continue anyway—you weren't going to risk going to this date looking bad.

"your eyes; the glitter, though it helps pull your whole look together," he makes a hand gesture, your breath hitched in your throat, as you nodded for him to continue "it's dull when you compare it to your eyes."

you furrow your brows, incredibly puzzled. "what does that mean?"

"your eyes shine more" he said with a cheeky grin, your mouth left agape at his playfullness.

"glitter doesn't shine. you..you suck at flirting." you said hitting his shoulder, letting out an unbelievable scoff.

he fauxes hurt as he rubs his shoulder, "this isn't flirting, i'm being very honest right now!"

you roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "mhm"

he shrugs, "i'm not going to continue if you don't believe me."

"okay, okay. i believe you, continue kang."

"alright. so, your brows," you nod. "perfectly trimmed, which..." he leans closer to your face, his thumb grazing your eyebrows. you didn't expect the sudden closeness, so your breath was hitched, stuck right in your throat. "which is good. there's no little hairs in between, or surrounding them."

he moves away after what felt like a whole hour, in reality, was just a few seconds. only beomgyu ever got that close to you — that's your justification for your heart quickening at the proximity. you just got reminded of beomgyu, that was it.

"going well so far." you breathed out, finally being able to talk.

"yeah? told you you don't look bad." you narrowed your eyes. "taehyun. you're not doing this just to say i told you so are you? that's, like, cheating!"

taehyun sighed. "y/n, do you think i'm trying to sabotage you or something? i'm not. i'm not praying on your downfall, i'm being honest."

your previously furrowed eyebrows turned into pleading ones, filled with insecurity. "yeah?"

"yeah." you looked up to see his eyes. they always calmed your anxiousness, you found that the eyes are the doors of the soul saying couldn't have matched anyone more than it did taehyun, you knew everything just by looking at them. and this time, when you looked at them, it was almost overwhelming how they looked back at you with such softness — sincerity.

so overwhelming, your heart picked up at a faster speed, once again. what was up with you?

"okay, now, your lips," and again, his thumb. the one responsible to all of this. it was on your lips, going back and forth on the bottom one, then facing it to his eyes. he looked a bit taken back, kind of shocked.

"what?" you ask with your brows raised. he turns his thumb to you, with an amused smile spread on his face, "there's no red."

you let out an airy laugh, he was way too cute. "well, yeah, it's a no smudge matte lipstick. it's impossible to get off without makeup wipes."

"huh. then, that's good. you can kiss beomgyu without it being all messy." you nod slowly to that. "hey, on that note, refrain from giving me details about the kiss... if it happens."

you're quick to retaliate with a scoff. "it will happen, why won't it happen? it'll happen!"

he shakes his head, which earns an offended expression from you. "i'm just saying, you're the biggest coward i know."

"you're the biggest coward i know." you replied immaturely.

"i'm going to...i'm going to ignore that lame comeback and pretend it wasn't awful." he said, taking a look at his phone. "it's about to be ten...are you feeling less..insecure?"

you look at your heels, then back at him with a smile. "think so, yeah."

when you finally lock your door with keys, taehyun hovering over your back, you turn to him chirply. you're ready, you're ready to go out with beomgyu.

"so." you started, looking up at him, a large smile on your face. "thank you, taehyun. seriously. i know it was kind of weird at first, like you know, spending a lot of time with a stranger but to be completely honest—"

"it wasn't." he interrupted.

"huh?"

"it wasn't weird spending so much time with you."

"oh—well, uh" again, taehyun catches you off guard with his aloofness, making you stutter like an idiot, completely forgetting your monologue.

it didn't help that taehyun somehow was closer than you thought, way closer than the usual arm length. seriously, what was up with the proximity?

when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, it was again, so soft, waiting for you to say something. then, when taehyuns hand found its way tucking a strand behind your ear, you couldn't hear anything anymore. your heartbeat was magnified to your ears, despite seeing that his mouth was moving, saying something, you couldn't focus.

he waved a hand at your face, and you refocused again.

"think you should go now, love of your life's blowing up your phone."

"um—um yeah" you stuttered, waking up from your thoughts. "it's probably beomgyu" you muttered, smiling weakly.

"yeah," he chuckled a little, and god, was it so fucking cute. "thats why i said love of your life."

it was weird how you didn't catch that, you've always been referring to beomgyu as the love of your life, especially with taehyun.

you watched as he unlocked his door knob, looking back at you with his eyes twinkling a little under the dim hallway lights, "don't get nervous, you really do look pretty."

then he was gone, cruelly leaving you with one thought as you looked at the texts from the contact name, 'love of my life'.

you weren't ready. you weren't ready to go out with beomgyu. at all.

ending a/n: soooo how we feeling? cute? cute? readers so starstruck by taehyuns eyes and im just like..yup, same. me. this was originally apart of a very long fic i was working on, but that was scrapped, so..lol have this cute lil thing

[koisuko]

Could I request reader as a cat, but with the mk 1 girls?

Absolutely! (Forgive me this is long overdue and has been sitting in my drafts, im slowly losing my passion and motivation for mk1 content im sorry jehfjsjf)

Pov: You are a cat (pt4)

how the mk1 characters react to you as a stray cat, one with an oddly familiar/fitting name

part 1, part 2, part 3, bonus

Tw: none, gn, platonic, kitty cat

Ft: Mileena, Kitana, Sindel, Li Mei, Tanya

Mileena

Ever since her mother past, even if her soul was safe with her father, she found it hard to find the time to grieve. It wasn’t the same, not being able to speak to her, hug her, learn from her. And now, the newly passed duties of empress was thrown on her by circumstance, taking up nearly her entire day.

When in the solace of her room, hidden away from prying eyes, even for just a moment, she would let a tear slip down her cheek. All the inner turmoil collected into that single drop, and staining the silky case of her pillow.

All the struggle was slowly healed when you came along, trotting happily into the castle with your tail held high. You were a stray, with your once soft black fur now dirty and matted. She took pity on you, feeling the need to care for you tugging at the strings of her aching heart. And so she did, finding an almost therapeutic rhythm when brushing your shiny coat. Upon finding the small tag dangling on your neck, she was baffled to see it read ‘Tanya’. She almost giggled at it, such a bizarre coincidence to find a gentle companion with the same name as her lover.

During the nights, when the peace and quiet is a luxury earned, she lays on her satin sheets in deep thought. You, her new found friend, curled into a small ball against her side. Your purrs vibrate through her waist, bringing out a soft sigh of content from her lips. “Thank you, Tanya,” she whispered, “you’ve done a wonderful job fending off the sadness that plagues me.” She gently stroked your back, reaching up to scratch behind your ears. Both of you, at peace even for a moment, slipped into a dreamless slumber.

Kitana

It was hard watching her sister, watching her lack the time to grieve, watching her suffer in silence and create a fake facade of happiness in front of the people. Kitana wasn’t as high status as her, so she could afford just a little time alone, something she was grateful for. If she could, she would take her place, even for a moment to allow her some freedom.

Even with the time she had, she still missed her mother greatly. It was too early, unnatural even for her mother to be gone. She almost felt lost, lacking her mother’s usual guidance and watchful eye was akin to a motherless fawn.

It had been a normal day, tending to duties, but a particularly sad day. A day filled with heavy sorrow, the stages of grief hitting Kitana like a train. Her sister is busy, tending to duties as a new empress, and this left her feeling empty and alone. Never the less, she kept a neutral expression through out the day, even a small smile for the cherry on top.

But as night came, she’d sit out in the courtyard, here eyes to the stars above. She’d whisper to the night sky, one prayer at a time, for the safety of her family and the palace. A sudden rustle of a nearby bush breaks her from her thoughts. She approaches with a perplexed expression, “who’s there?” No answer, instead, the bushes rustle once more in response. Kitana took another step closer, cautious and ready, her heart slightly racing with impending adrenaline. To her surprise, a small fluffy feline emerged from the shrubbery, tilting its head in her direction.

“Mreow,” you purred, a simple human translation to a hello. She lowered her stance, relaxing at the sight of you, “hello little one,” she cooed. You chirped in response, trotting over to rub against her legs, looking up with your big adorable eyes. She giggled, there is simply no resisting the pleading gaze of a friendly feline. As if she read your mind, she gingerly scooped you up into her arms, cradling you close to her chest. While doing so, her fingers grazed the hem of your collar, causing her to retract for a moment in surprise. When looking closer, the collar read ‘Sindel’ in a intricate cursive engraving. She gently traced the letters with her fingers, as if committing it to memory. Her eyes welled with tears, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She sniffled, nuzzling her face into your fur with a sigh, “I miss you, mother.”

Sindel

To be reunited with her husband was one thing, but to be inside his body as a spirit was another. Death wasn’t at all as expected, she felt the cold sensation and loss of feeling that came with it, but did not go to some whimsical after life. Considering the death of the forest of souls, there was no going there. A shame, really, she wanted to experience it for herself. But, considering she was with her husband once more, it felt safer than the forest.

The best she could describe it would be, feeling whole again, realizing a part of her that she was missing. She felt a strange connection between her and the other spirits there, as if a cord interlocked them at the core. Every feeling, every thought, it was all shared between them as a collective. Negativity didn’t exist, all the fear and longing she once felt, was gone now.

There was a place where everyone was a physical, walking around in a blank plane of white and fog. This is where she could be with her husband, reunited once again in pure bliss. The area was endless, even if you chose to walk continuously, you would never reach an end.

Sindel sat near the edge of the group, waiting for her husband to return once again. She looked off into the endless pool of white, deep in thought. She could see the memories of her past life, memories of her children, husband, and the kingdom. All the memories skimming over her brain like a slide show, all the way up to her untimely death. Reaching down, she gingerly caressed the wound where the katana had struck and killed her. She could remember the look of dread and sorrow on her daughter’s face, but proud was the only thing she could feel. Sindel could see the progress Mileena and Kitana have made through Jared’s eyes, and regardless if she could tell them or not, she was beyond overjoyed.

A sudden presence beside her lured her out of her trance. When she looked, she was surprised to see you, the spirit of a small house cat. It was unusual to see animals here, but never has it been unwelcome. Perhaps the others have not noticed you, as usually they would flock to an animal newcomer. She smiled down at you, admiring the beauty of your coat while you groom your paw in silence. You turned your head in response, looking up at her with one big eye, the other closed off as a token of your past life. You could sense that she was waiting, and decided to keep her company. You stood, stretching your back before trotting over to her. You didn’t hesitate, making yourself right at home on Sindel’s lap. There was no protest from her, instead, she placed a gentle hand on your back and stroked her fingers through your fur. It had been quite some time since you had been pet, your past life lacking the love and care you craved so much. If only Sindel had found you when you both were alive, she would surely take you in as her own. She scratched the top of your head, eliciting a soft purr of satisfaction from you. Sindel continued to wait for her husband, watching memories flow by, but this time with a new friend.

Li Mei

Li Mei practically watched Sindel’s daughters grow up from small infants to young women. She nearly felt her eyes well with tears, watching the coronation of Mileena through blurred eyes. Even if she gained the role through circumstance, she was still unbelievable proud.

It was unfortunate, downright depressing, losing the best friend she had just got back. After years of pleading with Sindel, working so hard to regain her trust after Jared’s passing, she had finally rebuilt the bond once broken. Only for the untimely death of her best friend, regaining her best friend’s husband in her place. Although, it was a relief to learn from Jared that she had safe passage to an afterlife of some sort. And, she was happy to hear that they were reunited, even if it was through failed dark magic.

After her promotion for her heroic acts, she felt alone and home sick. She felt wrong in the place as chief of imperial police, missing the streets of Sun Do where she kept peace for so many years. Now, she sat in her office as a newly reinstated first constable, mindlessly dragging the pen across parchment. She had taken up journaling, a simple way to vent out the everyday frustrations of police work, and to pass time on off days where crime was minimal. Paperwork from the days criminals had stacked neatly in the corner of the desk, a small lamp hovered over the various journal papers. She sighed, setting the pen down and leaning back in her seat. Stretching her back with a satisfying pop before making way to the exit of her office.

A sudden shrill shriek startled Li Mei, nearly sounding like a child screaming for help. At this time of night? She swiftly ran to a nearby alleyway where she was surprised to see the source of the sound was a cat fight between strays. One was much larger, covered in fluffy orange fur, and the other a small and scrawny brown tabby. The smaller one let out a meek hiss, while the larger one raised a paw ready to strike. You bolted behind Li Mei’s leg, having accidentally stumbled into the territory of a large Tom cat. He was aggressive, fiercely defending his home and potential breeding area, to which you wanted no part of and simply made your way here by curiosity alone. As the Tom cat made an attempt to run towards you, Li Mei stomped her foot, “hey! Quit the scuffle.” The Tom cat hesitated at first, giving you one last hiss before running back through the alley where it came from. Li Mei brought her attention to the small tabby hidden behind her, lowering to crouch beside you, “quite the predicament you got yourself into hm?” She brought her hand to your eye level, to which you gave it a gentle sniff. Paper, ink, and a small amount of roast lingered on her skin, remnants of her lunch eliciting a heavy pang in your stomach. “Are you hungry?” She frowned, studying the current state of your boney ribs and dirtied fur. You meowed, your eyes large in a pitiful beg for a scrap of satiation. She smiled, scooping you up in her arms, “let’s get some dinner in you little one,” walking back into the headquarters. She felt a strange fabric on your neck, the dirt covering making it nearly impossible to notice at first. Attached to it, was a small metal heart, rusted and covered in mud. Upon wiping it with her thumb, the words on it read “umgadi”. She giggled, “my past comes back to me.” From then on, you made several returns to her for food and protection, until eventually, you were adopted by her with open arms.

Tanya

When she wasn’t with Mileena, majority of her time was occupied by the duties of leader of the Umgadi. Being at such a high rank, and rebuilding the Umgadi from the ground up to be reformed from a few rotten apples, had kept her a very busy woman. Tanya made sure to thoroughly wring out every pupil to keep out the rats who conspire against both the Umgadi principles, and the kingdom itself.

Tanya stride down the hallways of the palace, her heels clicking against the pristine floors of the Umgadi barracks. She held an air of confidence, her head held high and eyes straight ahead. She smiled as the gentle snores of her sisters reached her ears, the peaceful sound of slumber fading slightly with every step. She had an objective in mind, her feet carrying her to the palace gardens where her lover waits.

Upon arriving, just at the entrance, two small cats walked side by side with their tails wrapped over each other. They seemed so peaceful, enjoying each other’s company under the starlit sky. She hadn’t meant to intrude, but once noticed by the two felines, one had bolted into a nearby hedge. The one remaining, a small calico, had looked at her with curiosity. You did not run, instead, you sat right where you were, to convey that you were not afraid. Tanya smiled, lowering herself to a crouch and reaching a hand in your direction, “it’s alright, I won’t harm you.” You sniffed the air, catching a whiff of her scent, the smell akin to a sunlit field of flowers with a hint of honey. You slowly approached, your neck elongated to sniff her outstretched hand without risking too much. She smiled, tilting her head with curiosity, “what’s your name, little one?” You lifted your head, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of a name on your collar. It read, “Mileena”. She smirked at the engraving, “what a beautiful name.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Yo! I cannot get enough of dad!dream! Can you write something with reader and Morpheus bonding by her taking him around and showing him what she did while he was trapped and Morpheus lamenting about being gone for so long and missing his child’s (because he absolutely accepts that that is his kid. No ands ifs or buts) milestones.oh! Maybe a scene where he shows her around the dreaming while he’s repairing it and she gets to see what it looks like it it’s full glory!

Star Collector

Dream of the Endless x Fae!Reader (tho tis mostly Dream & his fae!baby girl)

Summary: Your daughter grew up loving flowers. One day, a strange man comes to her whist she was playing in the garden, and she immediately offers him some buds from her collection.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, fae!mother & daughter, girl dad!dream, CUPCAKE BABY GIRL!daughter, fluff, angst?, typos, etc.

A/N: lol u sent this before i even got back to you. update: IM FINALY GETTING BACK TO YOU. I THINK IM IN A DAD!DREAM STREAK. I had a little problem with continuity and feasibility of the kid, well, being a child after dream was trapped for a nearly a century, so i made them fae! hope you dont mind. anyway, i hope you like it, and i hope it was worth the wait my love love love Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

The sky was a lilac and orange color today. The sun was lowly kissing the mountain ranges from across our domain. The dusk left a pinkish haze in its wake. The fireflies were at the start of their debut.

The balmy breeze embraced my daughter as sweetly as I would as she gathered all the flowers in our front lawn to her heart's content.

And I had been in the middle of a chore when I felt a ripple of dread rush through me. The spoon in one hand and the jar of honey in the other quickly left my grips as I ripped my chiffon skirt up and dashed over to the open door by my kitchen. I had a complete view of my baby mere moments ago. Now, she was not at all eye shot.

So as I ran outside, my heart raced; my bare feet galloped across the grass and dirt of the garden.

Then all at once, the air was stolen from my lungs and my movements come to an abrupt halt. He stood there, a tall, dark figure, starkly contrasting the fauna and the tiny, bright baby next to him.

Her voice was small and soft, and her hair tie was loose around her hair. She raises a flower bud and grins from ear to ear.

He bends down and takes the flower bud from her, muttering a gracious thank you.

When he turns to me, a shiver runs down my spine.

I am in utter disbelief. I only realize it was indeed real after he walks over to me and says my name.

I gasp for air, "Dream?"

The next moment, I am in his arms, embracing him tightly.

"You came back to us," I speak against his chest, eyes water.

He presses a kiss on the side on the top of my head, "I apologize I did not come sooner."

I pull away from him shaking my head. I take his face in my hands, grunting softly when I feel the stickiness of the honey in my fingers. I retreat my hands, as not to spread the thing on his cheek, but he presses his hands atop mine, holding me back. His palm covers the back of my hand as he pushes my hold back on him. He sighs at the contact.

My lips quiver at the sight of him. The next moment, I pull him into a kiss, still reeling from the fact he was here and that I could do this.

I wonder if it was me, him, or the time between us, but it felt different. The feel of his lips were both longing and loving but there was feel to it that I could not identify.

When we break away, I take his arm and lead him back to the girl. I look at her then look at him, smiling as I did, "she is a collector, my lord. She has only bore witness to 4 planetary alignments and yet she knows more flowers than I."

I turn to him, wondering if he remembered that that was how our folk counted our age, and that I meant the alignment of the five planets, which, on the basis of other creatures, happened every 19 years.

I do not get to respond or note on how he gulps at my words.

It was blistering reminder that it has been that long.

Dream nods, "she has named many flowers to me," he mutters and smiles, "she is as enchanting as her mother."

I chuckle and lean into him, "but she is as stubborn as her father."

He turns to me furrows his brows at this.

I release his arm with a chuckle and crouch down, beckoning the child over. I call out her name and she turns to me idly. "Come, my love," I wave my hands toward me.

She turns back to her flowers and continues to put them into her basket.

I let out a soft sound and stand. I turn to Dream, "the spitting image, as you see."

Dream's expression hardens. He is not stubborn. He furrows his brows tighter and looks down at the child, calling her name out with authority, making her turn to him. She stills as she looks up at the man, who says, "your mother is calling for you."

She merely blinks at him.

I laugh, shaking my head. I crouch down and lean on my knees. I call out to her again, beckoning her over in a higher pitch, and at last, she finally comes over, although visibly reluctant.

I laugh at her and take her into my arms, peppering her cheeks with kisses as I do so. She coils up and giggles and grins because of this.

Dream watches the exchange and feels his chest tighten.

I turn to him with a smile then back to the child, "my sweetling," I mutter to her, "do you know who this is?"

We turn to Dream at the same time. When I turn back to her, she purses her lips and looks with her wide eyes. She turns back to me, "sandman."

I break into a laugh and nod at her, "yes, my bright star. That is the sandman. He commands dreams."

She turns back to him and leans into me, casually observing the man.

I rock her in my arms and kiss her head, "that's your father, my love. You asked me before why you didn't have a father-"

Dream clenches his jaw.

"-I said you did-"

Because she does.

"-and this is him, darling," I explained.

Immediately, the girl perks, eyes widening even more than they already were. She mutters questioningly, then points, "sandman?"

I nod at her words, "yes, child, sandman is your father."

"Father?" she repeats incredulously, "he is my father?"

Dream feels as though he was kicked in the teeth.

My baby turns to me and whispers, "father?"

I give a sad smile and nod, "yes, baby. Father."

She turns to him and points, "you.... father?"

I turn back to Dream with a smile that is quickly stunted when I see the expression on his face. Dream looks like he was devoid of all color, more so this moment than a while ago.

I release a breath, rocking my daughter in my arms, "my dear, do you want to go to your father?"

The girl turns to me then back to him. She does not speak and only reaches out both her hands to Dream.

Dream instantly stiffens, visibly taken aback by the eagerness of the child. Yet not a second too late, he reaches out for her and takes her in his arms. In that moment, I swear I saw his being twinkle as she leaned into him.

The girl was so little and soft against him. He felt the need to hold his breath, as somehow the act would have been offensive to her. He would never do anything to offend her. It had been so long since he had held something so... so frail, so tender, so delicate in his arms. The moment she placed her clammy palm against his chin, he decided he would die for her. The moment she blinked at him then smiled, his insides scorched with a familiar protectiveness; he would never let anything happen to this creature so long as he was.

"Father," she mumbles through upturned lips. There was apparent splendor in her eyes. He would willingly be put through imprisonment again if only it ascertained that she never loses this gleam.

She smiles from ear to ear, "I love you."

Dream's soul is crushed.

No. He will never be imprisoned again. The thought of never beholding the sight of her sparkling face is the worst punishment anyone could ever muster.

Dream opens his mouth, wanting nothing more than to repeat and reassure his love that he, in fact, loved her too, but somehow, it did not feel right. It felt out of place, it felt cheap. He did not feel worthy to repay her affections when he knew his words were not nearly as genuine as hers. For he was jaded and cynical and so utterly lost.

He is glad that she leans into him, holding him in a tight embrace. He did not have to speak anything it seems

The sight of the father-daughter duo brought tears to my eyes.

I watched as Dream rubbed her back and tightened his hold on her form.

He releases a breath and mutters lowly, "would you like to see my collection, daughter?"

Immediately, his daughte pulls back and perks up. Her lashes flutter in intrigue, "do you-" excited heave, "do you collect flowers?!"

Dream presses his lips into a smile and shakes his head, "I collect stars."

The gasp that leaves her is one of astounded enchantment, "y-you WHAT?!" The girl turns to me with eyes the size as saucers, "mother! HE COLECTS STARS!"

I return her expression with shocked amusement.

Dream brushes her hair back, "I keep them in my coat."

The girl immediately turns to his coat, watching it so intently.

"If you like, I will give them all to you."

She does not hesitate and readily nods in excitement, "I DO, I DO, IDO, IDO, IDOIDOIDO!"

Dream laughs, "then, I say, all the stars in the sky are yours, my love," he announces softly, "however... I am embarrassed to admit, I have just regained my strength. I have yet to finish rebuilding my domain, so I cannot call the heavenly bodies and introduce you as their master for I have nowhere to invite them."

She stays silent upon hearing that. Then after a moment, she looks up at him, "we can invite them to here."

Dream presses his lips into a smile, "a generous offer."

"I can show them my flowers!"

I coo at the girl's sentiment.

"My daughter, bringing a star to the land of the Fae would be unwise," he gently explains, "instead, I will hasten my reconstruction of the Dreaming and bring you there promptly after."

She raises her hand, "I like dreaming!"

He is momentarily taken aback by this. Dream knows well the tide and currents of a child's mind, ever-changing and wild. Their words at times were here then there. It similar to that of dreams. And yet hearing this from his child was similar to having your heart clenched.

"I am honored by you," he adjusts her hold on her, "... would you like to watch me rebuild our Dreaming then?"

She opens her mouth then turns to me. I offer her a smile and nod instantly. She turns back to him and blinks slowly. She hums before she speaks, "I help mother cook, so I help father re-bill our dreaming."

Dream feels those words tug at the very fibre of his being. He gives the faintest of retorts, for he is afraid he would break if he spoke any louder, "thank you."