#it's almost pay day! yay!

[ghostorbz]

2am doodles paired with random photos on my phone

[coldflasher]

*tiredly* yayyy

[nomaishuttle]

guys remind me to watch la bamba later

[ceeberoni]

EDIT: WE DID IT WERE MOVING INTO THE HOUSE YAY!!!! THANK YOU EVERYONE PLEASE DONT SPREAD THIS POST ANYMORE CUZ I DONT NEED HELP. FOCUS ON OTHERS WHO NEED HELP HERE INSTEAD. THANK YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID FOR ME. THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART.

hey so i need mad help at a pretty terrible time!!

TL;DR I NEED ABOUT $1900 FOR ME AND MY PARTNER TO GET INTO THIS HOUSE WE GOT WITH SOME FRIENDS. ILL BE ABLE TO PAY RENT ONCE IM IN BUT THESE ARE THE REST OF THE COSTS WE HAVE LEFT BETWEEN ME AND MY PARTNER TO PAY THE DOWN PAYMENT/FIRST MONTHS RENT/PET DEPOSIT FOR OUR SHARE.

not including moving or like, living, during this time into those costs. i already feel bad asking for this much sdklfjslkdfskldf

PAYPAL - chocolatebananapop@gmail.com

VENMO - ceeberoni

KO-FI - ceeberoni

OR IF U WANT ART

COMMISSIONS - REDBUBBLE

ive been boosting my commission post to try and Earn My Money The Noble Way but no ones buyin so i need to do real ebegging cuz im really bad off right now and of course i feel fucking RANCID having to ebeg right now especially when so many other people are in much more dire straits than me at the moment

but im finally getting a house with my childhood friend and his partner (along with my partner) and i will FINALLY be moving out of a house owned by my abusive mom! and i no longer have qualms saying this about her because every one of my friends fucking hates her even when i try to stick up for her and im pretty sure that means shes probably the bad guy and not me but im not sure yet. i will keep you posted

anyway to cut right down to it i got kicked out of my house of 6 years by her cuz my sister and her kids needed a place to live (which like, yeah that tracks, she got all the kids and herself in a studio with a basement but theyve got a roof over their head, the kids at the end of the day are who i number one want a roof over the head of so its fine) and have been house hunting since like idk. late july or early august at this point idr when it was anymore. and it has been such a fucking shitshow but FINALLY after all these months we have a place with our friends and its NOT MY MOMS PLACE and were ALMOST FUCKING THERE

and like right now im in half of a fucking garage with no running water no kitchen no bathroom paying $400/m rent with no bathroom and no ability to save to move and im also paying $200 for mine, my sisters, and my nephews phone bill, no bathroom, i got my car insurance, i got the internet i cant even fucking use anymore that i pay for out of pocket so the kids can watch shit or whatever so do you see where the situation is like fucked up here also i have to walk across the street to take a shit and shower did i mention

umm so any money help would be lit, boosting would also be lit, have a nice day,

[hemlock-dreams]

Not me absolutely frothing at the mouth about this AU. Can we get an info dump on the Lore? It's making me want to abandon my current Spideypool WIP for this. Absolutely terminal brainrot for this boy

BEHOLD: MASSIVE LORE DUMP!

Peter B. Parker is a young troublemaker who has a problem with authority. He also has a knack for picking tech apart and putting it back together, which puts him on the radar for a small-time gang that needs someone to act as their alarm system breaker for a big score.

Unfortunately, said score had bad intel and what was supposed to be a simple robbery turns out to be manslaughter when the resulting fire that was supposed to cover up their tracks ends up killing two guards.

Peter is tried as an adult with the rest of the gang and sentenced to Rykers for 5 years.

Check out the full page HERE.

At Rykers, Peter meets Marko Flint, who takes Peter under his wing. and teaches him how to survive and thrive when wearing the orange.

Life goes on for 5 years. He learns the trade, gets some tats, learns how to make some great shivs, and becomes a better criminal all around. Yay prison!

Peter gets out at 21, and reunites with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He does his best to clean up his act, but normal life is hard for someone who spent their formative years in prison.

(He also makes questionable hair and fashion choices. What can I say, he's catching up!)

He goes from job to job, trying to pay back his aunt and uncle for all their support but is completely unequipped for the 'real world.' After a few months working/getting fired from soul-crushing menial jobs (HS dropout!), he agrees to take 'one last job' with Marko that is 'guaranteed to set them up for life'.

*cough*

This robbery goes off without a hitch! No one is hurt and they make off after hitting a heavily armored Oscorp Transport with a ton of documents/tech that they aim to sell to the highest bidder.

The biggest mystery is that one glowing vial of untested, experimental serum they found...

Unfortunately, Oscorp doesn't take robbery lightly. Marko finds out through contacts that the serum (whatever it is) is too hot to sell on the market, so he instructs Peter to get rid of it so it can't be traced back to them.

Peter, a rational 22-year-old ex-con, 'gets rid of it' by mixing the serum into ink and tattooing it onto his wrist, triggering the start of his mutations.

It takes a bit, but Peter get's all the regular spiderman benefits (webs are organic), plus one more. The serum was created from the venom of the Portia Spider, a hunting/jumping spider known to be uniquely intelligent among arachnids.

Alongside the speed/strength/spideysense, Peter also grows some fangs that secrete a powerful venom.

The venom speeds up the body's processes, working almost like an insane performance booster and enhancing an injected person's strength, speed, and senses for a few hours.

Unfortunately, repeated doses also eventually induce shock, paralysis, and, later, death.

He gives a few samples of it to Marko as an exit fee.

Uncle Ben was suspicious of how Peter suddenly got so much money, but took him on good faith. But, while he was watching the news that covered the Oscorp robbery, connected the dots and had a blowout fight with Peter that ended with him having a cardiac event.

Unfortunately, he did not survive.

Aunt May and Peter were estranged over this for several years.

This event crushes Peter, sobering him up immediately. He goes back and gets his HS diploma, and works on night courses in college.

However, he spends much of his days wandering, angry at himself and what he did. He beats up a mugger one day and realizes that he could be using his powers to back up the faith Ben had in him.

Spiderman is born!

Eventually, he and Aunt May reunite, and their relationship is slowly healing.

A few years later, Peter is on the up. He and Aunt May are close again! He's got a bachelor's in computer science, has a (semi) steady job, and is well-liked as Spiderman by the populace at large. His rogue's gallery is roguing- etc.

Unfortunately, a variant of his venom (developed by Kingpin) hits the streets as a drug. It's favored by both criminals for its performance-enhancing strength, as well as civilians, for the time-slowing sensation/high it gives them.

His girlfriend, Mary Jane, who has been sober for a few years, relapses. Peter, knowing that he can't stop her from getting it on her own, reveals his identity and becomes her main source.

At least, this way, he can control the dosage.

Marko (who sold Peter's venom to Kingpin) manages to fire off his only two brain cells and realizes that Spiderman IS Peter Parker.

Then he outs him to the world because Spiderman made it personal.

Peter's life catches on fire. The entire world is after him. His loved ones have to go into hiding because there's no shortage of criminals and psychopaths who want to get their hands on MJ and Aunt May to get to Spiderman.

Peter ceases to exist. It's not safe anymore. He spends days (weeks? months?) in the suit. Eventually, on the run and burnt out, he pleads his case to Dr. Strange in desperation. (Ala No Way Home)

"Everyone deserves a clean start."

Dr. Strange agrees, but the spell can't work with Peter still existing as part of the equation. So it fires him off into a reality where Peter B. Parker, and by extension Spiderman, never existed.

So how's an ex-con/ex-superhero (for now) supposed to carve a space in a world that never knew him? By finding somewhere that doesn't ask any questions.

And it just so happens, that St. Margaret's School for Wayward Children has a reputation for both being a bar of questionable repute and looking the other way.

Might as well start there.

~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for this lovely, lovely ask! I hope this massive lore dump wasn't overkill, but I'm having a lot of fun with this world and wanted to share.

And I offer this lore dump ONLY on the condition that you do not drop whatever you're working on. There is always space for more spideypool in the world, don't deprive us!!!

[s0dium]

PEEPING TOM

A/n: Its good to be back, I also will be doing kink tober! Yay!

Synopsis: In which you find a peephole in your wall, allowing you to spy on your neighbor Gojo Satoru

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Peeping Tom, mutual masturbation, masturbation, slight dub-con, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, breeding, Dom!Gojo, fingering, rough sex

MINORS DNI

~

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

It was day numero uno in your new dorm at Tokyo Jujutsu High. You were hesitant at first enrolling, being suddenly uprooted from an overall normal life into a world of curses and sorcerers was a, well, definitely a shocking experience for you. In fact, today was a boring blur for you, by the time you were done moving in it was nightfall and the only people you met were principle yaga and an old guy.

So you didn't expect the most exciting part of your day would be finding a peep hole right at eye view of you when you sat up on your bed. 

Of course you pay no attention to it, this was a pretty old Japanese building after all. It was when you were searching up what the hell “spackle was” when you heard a loud “FUCK” coming from the other side of the wall. 

Well that's interesting.

You know it's wrong, you wouldn't want peering in on you. But curiosity got the better of you as you sat down on your bed and aligned your eye with the hole. 

From what you could see, your nameless neighbors room was pretty neat, but your mind went completely blank when a set of abs came into your vision, followed by the side profile of one of the most handsome white haired man you had ever seen.

So yeah, the first time you peeped on your neighbor was a mistake. 

The second time. Not so much. 

~

"Hey! My name is y/n l/n im your neighbor"

Piercing blue eyes look you up and down and your breath catches in your throat. His eyes, framed by a shock of defiantly white hair, hold a mysterious depth that seems to invite you into an endless ocean of secrets. They twinkle with a mischievous glint.  His lips, full and inviting, flash you a devilish smile that hints at an irreverent sense of humor. The white hair man leans on the door frame.

“Ahh so your the new girl”

You gulp, trying to keep your eyes from raking over his well built body that were sporting sweat pants that rode just slightly low on his hips and a black shirt that exposed the tone muscles of his arms. 

Lawd have mercy, we must stay focused, we must stay focused. 

"Yeah uh, I just wanted to get your name, you know, since we are gonna be neighbors and all….." You trail off at the end, fiddling with the ends of your uniform skirt.

You can feel his eyes bore into your head as you averted his gaze. He chuckles and blows out air from his nose in amusement.

“Gojo satoru. You can call me Satoru, since you know, we are going to be neighbors and all” He almost coos mockingly.

You nod and hold out your hand.

“Nice to meet you Satoru.”

~

For the next two weeks you find yourself slowly adjusting into your new life. You spend most of your time either training or hanging out with your new friend Shoko, since you are deemed ‘too new’ for any missions which is fine by you. During this your interactions and conversations with Gojo are kept rather short. You laugh at the jokes he and Geto come up with during class, roll your eyes at the snarky comments he makes about how ‘new’ you are, and occasionally even give him a smile in the hall. But for some reason you can't seem to get him out of your head; your eyes often wandering to stare at the back of his white hair during lessons, watching how his long digits gracefully twirl a pencil around, finding yourself wondering what else he can do with those fingers.

And it is for those very reasons you find yourself lying in your bed, unable to sleep.

Huffing, you sat up in your bed and turned on the light on your night stand. As you leaned toward the wall to grab your phone, that’s when you heard it. 

A faint groan. 

….

You shouldn’t.

It's wrong. You already peeped once, and that’s enough. 

But god, curiosity is killing you right now. It was eating away at your brain like termites and you couldn’t seem to let the question go. 

So you made a promise. One look. One final quick last look and that would be it. 

Oh how curiosity killed the cat. 

The moment your eye was aligned with the hole, your mind went blank and in front of you was a sight ever to behold.

There on white bed sheets was Gojo, shirtless, sweatpants slightly lowered furiously fisting his dick. For a couple seconds, you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him; how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back, the glide of his hand up and down his long dick and how the top of his fist captured his redish pink tip with every thrust. 

Once the initial shock was over you immediately pulled away, hand covering your mouth to silence your gasp. You should've never looked, never crossed the threshold between curiosity and invasion of privacy. But as you move away to go back to sleep and forget all about this, you wince.

Oh no.

An all too familiar ache has started to form between your thighs and you felt your stomach twist into knots and form into a million butterflies. Frantically, you pull down your short, silently cursing when your eyes are met with a small damp stain at the base of your underwear. 

This couldn't be happening. Quickly you crawled back under your covers and turned off the lights, praying that the feeling would go away. Surprise surprise, it didnt. 

Biting your lip, you grabbed a pillow and placed it between your legs, squeezing your thighs together. A couple seconds later without realizing it you had started to slowly roll your hips on the soft object, desperately seeking some way to alleviate your pain. 

But it seemed like that only made things worse. 

Your skin was buzzing, and your breaths had turned deep and heavy. The slick accumulating in your cunt has started to become borderline uncomfortable and the twisting in your stomach didnt seem to cease. You needed release. 

One more look. One more look than one orgasm and thats it. 

Frantically you crawled back to the small hole, letting out a soft whimper when you're met with the sight again. This time his eyes were squeezed shut, and white substance filled the space between his fingers as he hurriedly fisted himself. Without even thinking, you slipped a hand under your underwear and letting out a sigh of relief when your index finger came in contact with your clit. 

Quick, you'd make this quick.

Using your wetness, you began to circle your finger around the nerve, falling into a slow rythm. You tried your best to cover the wet clicking sounds coming from your ministrations, but after a couple minutes you couldnt see to care any more. You let your mind drift to thoughts of Satoru. How would he look above you, sweaty and in euphoria? Oh you bet his dick would feel so good inside of you, fill you up and hit all the right places. Fuck it you'd probably let him cum in you, spill his seed in your cunt and fill you up over and over again.

Your movements had become frantic now as you desperately chased your orgasm and from what you could tell it seemed like he was getting close too. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to suppress the moans and your thighs started to tremble as you got closer to finishing. Suddenly, your stomach dipped and tightened as a surge of mind numbing pleasure took over you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth falling agape. 

After a couple seconds passed, you were left panting and you dazedly glanced back through the hole to find that Satrou had also finished; white streams of cum painting his toned stomach and fist. 

You blink back the euphoria that slowly escaped your brain.

Ok. Never again. 

~

That was a lie. 

You started to pick up the fact that Gojo had a routine. He’d jack off once in the morning and once at night, and boy, where the sounds impossible to ignore. So, you started to fall into this routine with Gojo. On cue, when you heard his shaky breath and silent whimpers, your hand would automatically slip into your pants, circling around your wetness to the sound of his shaky sighs. On the days you slept through the ones in the morning and missed it as night as well, you’d touch yourself on your own time, cumming over and over again to the thought of Gojo pumping his thick cock in and out of you. 

You didn't know what the end goal was to this and hell you knew it was wrong. But the pleasure was too overwhelming, the sound of Gojo was too overwhelming, too damn compelling.

So here you were again, another night laying next to the peep hole, hand down your pants intently listening to the fast pap pap pap that came from the other side of the way. 

But something was different tonight. Your skin felt like it was on fire. Your walls pulsed and squeezed around nothing with every light rub for your clit. This was becoming dangerous, the pleasure was becoming too much, the thought of gojo fucking you was becoming too much. 

You let out a whine that comes out louder than expected but you can't seem to care. You dig your ass into the mattress and arch your back slightly. You're not thinking of your fingers as your own right no, no, they are Gojo’s long pale ones rubbing fast circles on your throbbing clit. His name falls from your mouth like a silent plea over and over, begging him to fuck you. You're so engrossed in the pleasure that it took you 20 seconds to fully realize that the sounds on the other side of the wall had stopped. Confused, you align your eye with the peep hole and a gasp rips out of your throat.

Instead of finding Gojo’s body layed out your met with the sight of another eye. A blue eye. Staring right back at you. 

You pull away from the wall and cover your mouth. Before you can even process a thought your door swings open and in steps the last person you wanted to see.

"You've been peeping on me." Gojo coos, a shit eating grin spread on his face. Hes disheveled, white hair tousled, black tank top slightly riding up and grey sweat pants riding down showing his white happy trail. But most notable was his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his pants, a slight stain adorning the material right where the tip is. 

"You've been peeping on me!!!" You stammer, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Oh really? Is that the best defense you’ve got?” Gojo chuckles and rakes a hand through his white hair, taking a few steps closer to your bed.

“What are you doing? Get out!”

“Oh? Is that what you really want? You want me to leave?” Gojo is at the foot of your bed now, and your breathing becomes faster when he climbs on. “Because I can leave. I can leave and tell everyone what a little whore you’ve been, listening to me morning and night.”

“You-” You can't even finish your sentence because he's on top of you now, legs on either side of your body and you gaze up helplessly at him.

“Of course I noticed princess,why do you think I was doing it so much anyway?” He places his index under your face  and tilts your chin up so your lips align with his. “Loved hearing those whines…. Wanna hear more so badly” He murmurs before placing his lips onto yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting his warm tongue entangle into yours. He holds the back of your neck to deepen the kiss before peppering his lips along your jawline and your neck. A hand slips below your flimsy tank top and another pulls at the hem of your underwear. Before you know it your completely naked, your chest rising and falling and Gojos hungry eyes scan your body. 

He licks his lips.

“You gonna let me hear more?”

 You gasp when you feel a long finger slide down your slit connecting the wetness before dipping into your tight hole. Gojo leaned close to soothingly press dry lips to your temple. “Shh,” He whispered, the resulting puffs of air washing over the side of your face making you shake. “This your first time being touched like this baby?Or did you not know about this special little g-spot you’ve got right here?” 

Your toes curl when he touches a spot deep inside you that sends bolts of pleasure coursing through your brain. You don’t even notice that he’s pulling down his pants until he pulls his fingers away, a string of wetness connecting his digits with your pussy, and your eyes are met with the sight of his length.

You unconsciously buck your hips up at the sight of it, practically humping the air, and Gojo has to secure your hips down to the bed to prevent you from hurting yourself. You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Shhhh, we are going to have so much fun together baby.”

You're cut off by the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, your cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Gojo let oout a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said hoarsely.

“Satoru please-”

You dont get to finish the thought because Gojo pulls out and ram back into you with such fever everything goes blank for a second. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted. But that quickly changed to harsher thrusts, until he’s using you like his personal cock sleeve, shaping your insides and bruising your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.

Every thrust knocks the wind out of you, his tip smushing right against your cervix only to be pulled out and rammed back in again. And the sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum 

 It was too much, the feeling of your wet gummy walls gripping him so tightly, fuck, his hand felt like sand paper compared to this, how was he able to fucking live without your pussy in the first place.  There was no way Gojo could stop now. His body had kicked into auto pilot, a primal need for you settled in as he thrusted in and out, creating a methodical fast rhythm that echoed in your ears. The sight of you right now, the feeling of your pussy clamped on his dick did not justice to the image his fucked his fist to. No, this was better, this was heaven.

“So good- don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your babbling strung out of your lips too absorbed in the thought of how god damn good he was fucking you, his thick cock driving in and out of your velvet walls. It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots.

“Say my name baby” he coos and an involuntary cry escapes your lips, a passionate fusion of pleasure and intensity. Amid the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that washed over you,  your mouth began to call out your boyfriend's name. Again and again.

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive” he whispered hoarsely. Your stomach coiled with anticipation, heat encircling your core like a tightening cord. Your senses tingled, your mind a haze of desire, all consuming thoughts centered around Gojos electrifying touch. You pressed back into him, arching off a second later and then your hips rocked down. Words became superfluous, you couldn't say anything, not with the way you were panting and twitching, so insanely close to your peak that you wouldn’t ruin it with your words.

“Do it,” Gojo said into your ear with conviction. “Wanna see you cum all over me, fu-fuck, been waiting for that.” 

His words seem to flip a switch in you. The heat on your stomach is unbearable, you can’t take it anymore, it’s consuming you, driving you over the edge so fast that you can’t put a stop on it. Your pussy tightens so hard around Gojos dick that he nearly has to stop his thrusts, your scream is muffled by a hand clamped over your mouth as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. Gojo doesnt stop, He fucks you hard into the futon; your eyes roll back, toes curling as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body trembles over his thrusts.

"Oh shit!" He gasps as your cunt clamps around him. He growls something unintelligible as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy. “"Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up it's what you were made for- ah, fu-uck- cumming!" Gojo pressing him flush against you choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny.

“Wa-wait! N-not ins-si-” You squeal but cut your self off when you feel something deliciously warm enter your battered pussy. You babbled and squirmed as it built and built and built, like there was a dam of his seed spurting into you. You unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out and he whined and murmured his praise. “Good girl, get as much as you can.” He petted circles over your stomach, over the bulge of where his cock and cum lay. “Such a pretty tummy….” You threw your face into your arms and shook.

The two of you stayed like that for a while–Gojo keeping you plugged with his cock while you both watched your breaths, listening to eachother and occasionally leaning in for a messy kiss.

“So, I guess we are both peeping toms then.”

A/N: Im too lazy to write an ending

[spiderfunkz]

BLOWN A WISH

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. established relationship, fluff, kisses, hyun-ju forgets reader's birthday, this takes place long after the games (they all survive and get a fair share of the money yay).

author's note: i have two more fics for hyun-ju in my drafts, please keep requesting for her! she's such a dear i love her so much RAAAH

to be fair, birthdays weren't a big thing in your house.

it never bothered you, well, sometimes it does. only when you were little, you used to get invited to birthday parties, then, you realized how much it mattered at that age. but no matter how much you protested to your parents, they denied every single request.

you matured though. you realized that it was just a reminder of the time passing since you were born. ever since then you never mind it.

and well, as you got older, you had bigger things to worry about. school, classes, studies, college, jobs, work, bills, bills, bills.. so many bills. to be covered in debts you are unable to pay, the thought of your birthday never crossed your mind ever again.

but after some, not so pleasant events, you managed to get back on your feet. you managed to pay your debts, find a job, a nicer apartment, and a very, very, nice woman.

cho hyun-ju had her struggles as well. you talked to her only once throughout the deadly games, but soon you were reunited during a stressful night at a convenience store. you soon grew a bond together, sure it was bonded by trauma— but it was amazing to have someone close by.

you two grew closer everyday. after some time, she moved into your apartment. it was everything you could ever imagine. things were great. you went on dates, talked everyday, cooked together— hyun-ju is an amazing cook you noted, and everything seemed perfect.

everything is perfect. but recently, jobs have been piling up, specifically hyun-ju's. your time and her time kept getting disrupted by sudden meetings, paperwork, and nagging clients.

soon, the coffee table by the couch was filled with unorganized files. you could only shower hyun-ju with reassurance and motivating words, making her coffee from time to time, and giving her forehead kisses before going to bed early.

you respected her work. so you never bothered her. besides, you got your own things to settle.

not long after, your birthday came.

hyun-ju had planned everything beforehand. she'd come back from work earlier, she'd cook your favorite meal, and she'd give you a present she had already prepared (a handmade gift and a letter for you). she also bought a big bouquet of flowers that were meant to be picked up—

two days ago?

the date on her phone made her eyes widen. did she just miss your birthday? she couldn't believe it. surely this was some glitch in the matrix or something!

she realized you weren't home yet, right, you are currently out buying groceries. how much time does she have left to cook you dinner? she didn't care to check the time again, she went to the kitchen to cook a quick yet delicious meal. it was your favorite.

hyun-ju had become a witch running against time, your favorite meal was ready in no time. after plating it, she quickly called a shop to get flowers sent right away, then, she took a break to ease off for a bit.

the handmade gift and letter is in a box under your bed, she knew for sure. after inhaling a glass of water, she grabbed it and put a ribbon as a finishing touch. she was very proud of it.

she waits rather impatiently for the flower to arrive,

and almost in an instant, the doorbell rings.

she ran to open it, only to be met with your beautiful face, holding a bunch of paper bags filled with all kinds of needs.

"hyun-ju, ah, i forgot my keys, see." you gestured to your empty pockets. hyun-ju basically froze in place, "could you please help me with these." you laugh awkwardly, she grabs the paper bags immediately.

she mentally facepalms herself, "oh and. this came by the lobby, said it was for cho hyun-ju, so i grabbed it since i was going up. i figured you were still doing paperwork." you motioned to the bouquet of flowers that was hidden behind the paper bags.

you have to be kidding me.

hyun-ju sighs, "let me bring those bags in for you first." she puts the paper bags on the counter, you close the door with your feet, your arms holding the remaining paper bag and the bouquet of flowers, placing it beside the rest.

"so, um," hyun-ju starts, "that bouquet was actually for you."

you tilt your head in surprise, smiling. "really?"

hyun-ju nods. "see, it was supposed to be delivered two days ago, for your birthday. but gosh- i'm so sorry. i was so busy with work i forgot to pick it up. it's probably starting to wilt as we speak, so i bought a new one and called to get it delivered right away."

before you could respond she continues,

"and i know it is no excuse to forget your own girlfriend's birthday, i had everything planned out, you know. i was going to cook your favorite meal, and then surprise you with the flowers and the gifts i've prepared. but, i don't know what happened. time just flew by and i just realized earlier today," she catches her breath, "but do not fear, i cooked the meal just in time, it's right on the table ready for us. and well, you've seen the flowers so it's no longer a surprise but, there's one more thing."

she quickly runs off to grab the box under the bed before coming back to you in your confused state. "i made this. it's special, just for you."

she hands it to you, the words 'for my one and only :)' written neatly on it, sparkled with glitter and stickers.

"oh, hyun-ju! you shouldn't have," you smile widely.

"i'm really sorry for forgetting, i don't know how i can make up for it," she frowns.

"you know i don't usually do birthdays. this is the most i've ever gotten in my entire life. i'm very grateful for you, hyun-ju."

you give her a kiss, a very sincere one.

"thank you so much, i really mean it."

she smiles, brushing off how her cheeks are turning red. "come on, let's eat, the foods gonna go cold. i made you your favorite."

"my favorite's right here, what do you mean?" you tease, pointing at hyun-ju's now red face.

[dollfacefantasy]

Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Hands down one of my worst experiences in high school was when the seniors decided to extort the entire school by using tactics that were banned by the UN to get them to pay for the senior party! If that sounds like a wild sentiment stay tuned because this shit got crazy.

I was living in Arizona at the time and I was a freshman. Our campus was largely open air, with walks between class room buildings and some covered outdoor tables. Our event began with a morning announcement. The seniors were collecting donations for the senior party, and when they reached their goal, their fundraising method would stop.

Their fundraising method:

To pipe the entire schools speakers with "If You're Happy and You Know It" on loop. To this day, I cannot hear this song without experiencing a degree of rage and madness that is frankly alarming. One of the worst parts of the entire thing was that the recording they chose had the female singer do a little clap and say "Yay-ha-hey," at the end. So it wasn't just the song, it was this awful little cooldown stinger at the end.

If this sounds a lot like psychological torture you'd be extremely correct! This practice has been banned in some countries, but the good old US hasn't ruled it a human rights violation, and what a fun silly way to raise money, that definitely wasn't damaging to adolescent psyches!

Every morning for 15 minutes before school began, every passing period, every lunch, and after school for another 15 minutes they blasted that fucking song on unceasing repeat through every speaker in the school. Everyone found different ways of coping with this and mine was to observe my classmates descent into madness and categorize the stages.

The first stage was almost completely consistent, and it was a smug almost exasperated eye rolling phase. Often accompanied by derisive comments about the song or the tactic, this phase was extremely mildly annoyed. Most people figured it would blow over soon, and no one anticipated this continuing for a week and a half, creating a miasma of fraught tension.

The second phase was elevated annoyance, starting to snap and be less amused characterized this level of irritation. People would try to cover their ears or put on headphones, humming aggressively to block out the syrupy repulsive children's performer with her loathsome little clap. This phase had people picking their absolute least favorite part of the song. Her inflection on certain words, her timing between verses. I think it's pretty clear already which part I hated most.

The next phase was a bounce back out to absurdity. It became funny how annoying it was and people would sing along as if to challenge the song's authority over their psyche. This paired exceptionally poorly with people in phase two as they'd often lash out at the people giving more voice to their hell.

The fourth phase was a dead-eyed madness. People would stare straight ahead and their lips would silently mouth the familiar words. The song had pounded its way into their very soul and was inextricably linked to auditory output. They often didn't even realize if they began chanting along.

The fifth and final phase was pure uncut pubescent rage. Kids would scream, attack each other, and in a truly epic end to the event hurl a cafeteria chair with such force at the speaker in the cafeteria to irreparably damage the sound system.

The seniors got funding for a party, but some of it had to go to repair the damages, which were substantial.

[exocaliii]

❦︎ You've Been Walking, You've Been Hiding

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |

side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |

Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance to finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: mentions of self harm, death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, occasional use of Y/N even though I try my best to avoid it lol, some jealousy and yearning, very plot heavy guys no porn this time...

A/N: first fic yay!! it's incredibly plot heavy (like seriously look at the word count man I haven't even reached the Mingle game yet😭😭) and tbh i've already written most of pt 2 (which dives far more into the romance part), but please please lmk what you think so far!! :D seriously any comments or messages or whatever are appreciated!! this is the "I wrote this cuz no one else did" fic

—

It’s been nine years since you've met her, and she’s still the most beautiful woman you know.

Her head is tilted back, shallow breaths filling the silence. You don’t make a move until you see tears flow down her cheeks, and by the time she raises an arm to cover her face, you’re already by her side. There are no words or even glances shared as you use the sleeve of your jacket to wipe the tears off her cheek. Though, for a split second as your hand lowers, you swear you see her head tilt in your direction, and maybe you’re hallucinating it (god knows what could happen after two bottles of whatever hard liquor that was) but your eyes meet for a brief second.

It’s a bit too much for you, and you need this night to end. Besides, you had someone to meet. She knows that.

“It’s late, Eul.”

It’s an unspoken suggestion for her to drive you home, but she doesn’t move - just looks over at you with a heated gaze and that’s all it takes. Whatever emotion she was trying to express is unknown to you, but it’s familiar in a way that deeply disturbs you. You’re the last person she should be looking at like that.

“...Alright then,” you whisper, placing your head on her shoulder. She doesn’t react, but she doesn’t move to push you off either. You should leave. You both know this.

God, you’re pathetic.

—

250 million won.

Fucking scammers. Who could even pay that much?

Your meeting with the head of some shady smuggling group based in North Korea went… alright. They were willing to help, but less optimistic than the last. What really went wrong was the price they were charging to help search for No-eul’s baby. Even if you worked your current job for 16 hours a day for an entire year straight, you wouldn’t have enough.

The thought of seeing her hope dwindling once again made you want to pull your hair out.

Perhaps it was this heartache that made you call the number on that card.

—

She’s known about the games for six years.

She signed up to kill people every summer for five years.

Today is the first day she’s genuinely, completely thrown off guard.

When she twists the scope of her rifle, she almost accidentally fires a bullet straight into your face with a twitch of her hand. Even after leaning back and rubbing her face in exasperation at her own mind supposedly playing tricks on her, she leans back into the familiar pad of the rifle to see your face once again. You look the same as the last time she saw you, which was barely two days ago. The strain in your face, the fear that twists your expression into one she recognizes from seven years ago - God, what the fuck did you get yourself into?

She lets out a shaky breath and readjusts her grip, her nerves making her hands quiver just enough that she has to lean back again to roll her head to relieve some of the newfound tension in her neck. When she finally lays her cheek back against the rifle, she’s quick to refocus her attention to another player, one that 012 (or was it 010?) failed to kill. It’s a disgusting ordeal, but she deals with it the only way she knows how to, even as her mind wanders.

Survive this game, Y/N. Do not leave me behind.

—

All you can do is clutch the number on your chest - 037 - after what had just happened. After you watched a woman’s blood splatter onto a young man right next to you. After you watched him flinch and die moments later, right at your feet. It feels like a fever dream when money begins to drop into the piggy bank above the room, and you’re told each 100 million won added was somebody’s life.

That woman and the boy were, combined, only 200 million won to the pile. You want to vomit.

You drown out so much of it, but when you hear talk of money being passed out to the “winners” of the game you all just played, you’re disturbed to find it’s only reached about 75 million. You’re even more disturbed by your immediate desire for more, more money to fill the pig’s empty stomach (and more lives lost, apparently).

When it comes time to vote, you can’t bring yourself to care much about the man who claims he had played these games before. His pleas mean nothing to you, not when you have 250 million won to conjure up in the next month to continue the search for No-eul’s sweet daughter. You hesitate for only a split second before you hit the O, and you force yourself to drown out the fearful cries to your left as well as the howls from the hungry wolves to your right.

A blue patch is placed over your chest, but you do not cheer with the rest of your side.

—

When night comes, sleep refuses to come to you. It feels like a punishment now, especially as you look at the young girl just diagonal to you. 095. She shakes like a baby in her bed, and the red X on her sweater shows you why.

Have you damned this poor girl to death? Maybe even the kind old lady lying across from her?

The sick feeling in your gut prompts you to get up and head over to the side door. Three knocks prompts nothing but silence, but you refuse to give up so easily. With another set of knocks on the door, this time hard enough to make sure the guard on the other side (at least you hoped there was even anyone on the other side) heard you, you spoke up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel well, can I please-”

Without you saying another word, the door practically swings open.

Standing across from you is a pink guard with a triangle mask. The rifle at their side draws your attention immediately, and some paranoid part of your mind wonders if they only opened the door so they could shoot you for interrupting their quiet time. However, the guard surprisingly only takes a small step to the side after a strangely tense silence.

“...Thank you…”

You scuttle past them and immediately head to the bathroom. The moment you enter, you rush to the sink, turn on the faucet, and let a stream of icy cold water fall from your cupped hands onto your face. For a second, this helps your heart rate slow.

What brings it back up is the sound of the door opening, and what spikes it is the fact that it’s not a fellow player that walks into the silent bathroom, but the guard. Based on their height alone, you can tell it’s the same one. This is even more frightening somehow.

Did you do something wrong? Should you have just stayed in bed? Why did you pick-

“Why are you here?!” The guard’s raspy voice interrupts your thoughts. Her question (you now realize it’s a woman) was just barely quiet enough to not be considered a yell, but the frantic nature of it still makes you blank out. You’re so afraid that you end up completely missing the familiarity your body feels at the sound of her voice.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, I just need to wash my face, I’ll-”

You’re interrupted once again by the guard’s movements, but this time, she’s practically ripping down the red hood of her jacket to pull off her mask. She doesn’t even need to take off her face covering by that point, because a single short glance at her eyes, the ones you knew so well, were enough.

“No-eul…,” you choke out, staring as she pulls the face covering down completely to reveal the face you’ve known for nine years. Her hair is sweaty and sticks to her face in a way that you recognize from her summer shifts at the fair.

Seeing her here is only comforting for a short moment though, because the pink of her uniform against the green of yours is still visible in your peripheral as you take in her confused, almost panicked expression. Her eyes scan your face for an answer, not nearly as patient as she typically is, and when you refuse to even make a sound, she takes a small step closer.

“Answer me. You shouldn’t- God.” She runs her gloved fingers through her hair in poorly hidden frustration as she sighs and turns away for a split second. “You shouldn’t be here. Not in a place like this.”

You don’t respond, but she can very much see the frown on your face after that last statement.

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” It doesn’t take much for you to regain your snarkiness, but it clearly throws her off guard.

“It’s just a temporary job, and you know why I need it, so answer me.”

Yes, you know full well why she needs it.

“...I need it too, Eul.” It’s not enough for her. You sigh before accepting your fate. “She needs it.”

For a second, there’s silence. She’s confused, and you watch as the gears turn in her head and she slowly comes to understand the intentions behind your words - understands the blue O plastered on your sweater. Somewhere in the blank expression she’s trying so hard to keep up, you can spot the shame, the guilt, and the sadness washing over her at the realization.

“Don’t look at me like you pity me. This was my choice to make.” I don’t regret it.

When she fails to even acknowledge what you just said, you simply sigh and move over to the wall, sitting down with your legs pulled close to your body. As if it were muscle memory, she joins you a moment later.

For what feels like forever, you two sit in silence and stare at each other. She can’t stop glancing down at the patch on your chest, and you can’t stop glancing at the mask she placed at her side. When she notices this, her expression gets even more shameful, and she lowers her head.

“Eul…” She doesn’t answer you, but you hear the soft exhale she releases when she hears your voice. “Eul, I don’t blame you.”

You reach over in a bold move and take her gloved hands. They’re mostly steady, but you know her too well by now. Even the slightest tremor is enough for you to practically feel the shame washing over her in waves. When you attempt to hold eye contact with her again, she breaks it uncharacteristically fast.

“You should’ve never come here.”

You sigh heavily and as she begins to pull her hands back, you tighten your grip on them and lean forward.

“I want to find her, No-eul. Please let me try.”

She’s damned you, just as she damned her daughter. She’s sure of it.

—

Whilst others around you are quickly gathering into groups, you find yourself lost in the crowd. No one pays you any mind as they shove past you to team up with people they had been interacting with, but what could you do when you’ve really just been ignoring most of the people here?

It’s humiliating when you find yourself inching towards a group of men that side-eye you and turn away before you can even ask to join their group. To be fair, if you were them, you probably wouldn’t want the meek girl in the corner either. It’s life or death, and you can’t blame them for picking the former. All you can do is sigh and turn away, but before you can go far, a hand gently grabs your upper arm and spins you around.

“Hey, you have a team yet?”

380.

She’s a girl you made eye contact with only once, right before your late night trip to the bathroom. From her appearance, you would’ve expected her voice to be a lot more gruff, but it’s soft and gentle and draws you in immediately. In a place like this, it's normal that you find yourself easily drawn to any sense of safety you can find (especially when your usual safe haven is hidden behind a mask that dozens of others are wearing - others that are probably far more willing to shoot you in the head for trying to stick to them).

“No.” An awkward silence fills the space between you two before you remember why she’s even asking such a question in the first place. “Do you want to…”

You don’t get to finish that question - thank god - before she chuckles and shakes her head slightly, answering you by taking you by the hand and dragging you over to her group.

Standing with her back against the wall, an armed guard keeps her eyes trained on your every movement. When 380 takes you by the hand, her grip on her rifle tightens just barely.

—

In a twisted way, you almost found the last game to be fun. The cheers of the spectators, 380’s tight grip on your arm and quiet encouragement after you failed the first round of gonggi, it’s all kindness and attention you never typically receive. You can almost bring yourself to completely ignore the fact that you’re pretty sure you just got yourself thrown in with a group of two drug addicts (you don’t know how they managed to sneak substances into this seemingly sterile environment, but it’s very obvious they succeeded in some capacity).

What wasn’t fun, however, was watching the previous losers get gunned down by people in the same outfit as the woman you were empathizing with just last night. You’re actually 99% sure she was one of them, which makes it that much worse. You pity those who lost, and for a second, as you watch a young boy fall to the ground with blood seeping out from a single hole above his heart, you feel an indescribable hatred towards those putting these people down like dogs.

But then No-eul’s face flashes in your mind and you feel the ghost of her hands on yours, and it all fades away.

“What’s your name?” Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft and familiar voice. You turn to face 380 and are slightly thrown off at the sight of 230, 124, and 125 also waiting expectedly. Albeit with some hesitance, you give them your full name, and 380 nods in acknowledgment.

“I’m Se-mi.” Her choice to leave out her surname isn’t lost on you, but you ignore it for now. After all, you don’t really know this woman, and she doesn’t know you.

“Two beautiful names for two pretty girls.” Maybe you should’ve left out your surname as well. “I’m the legend: Thanos! I’ll revive half the world with my lyrics, so watch out.”

After Thano’s little declaration, you couldn’t really pay attention to the other two (Min-su and Nam-gyu, if your memory serves you well). The short shy boy that had been trailing Se-mi when she asked you to join the team was just as quiet as he was before, but now that you’re really paying attention, you realize that he bears a striking resemblance to someone you knew.

Laughter rings out as you chase him through the yard. Short legs, shorter than yours, don’t take him too far before your open palm collides with his small back, causing him to practically faceplant into the dirt. His muffled cries come out soon after, and even with your sorry attempts to soothe him, your aunt still comes running out, scolding you for playing so roughly with her young son.

It’s the last time you’ll see them, even if you didn’t realize it then.

You break your gaze away as you shift uncomfortably at the sudden memory - 125 is not your cousin, he’s a stranger.

You glance around the room for a bit before deciding you’ve sufficiently distracted yourself. When you draw your focus back towards Se-mi, you see her staring off into the distance as well, having made the wonderful decision to not pay attention to the drug-riddled rambling of the rapper who had become the de-facto leader of the group. As if she can sense your gaze, she breaks her staring contest with the wall across the room to turn her head in your direction.

As your eyes meet again, you don’t look away, and you’re pretty sure she smiles a bit at this.

Smug.

—

When it’s time to vote yet again, you’re just as set on your choice as you were before. The guilt of voting for the games to continue even after seeing 095 cry and beg for her life weighs heavy on your heart, but the money just isn’t quite enough for you to quit yet.

When you drag yourself back over to the side cheering and throwing their fists in the air for the death games to continue, you have to stop for a second and close your eyes.

No-eul’s face is so clear in your mind, and so is every memory you have of her crying over her lost daughter.

It’s easier to stand with these people when you remember what you’re fighting for.

—

Even with the confidence you felt in your choice, your guilt isn’t dispelled and you can barely bring yourself to eat the dinner provided to you. You push around the egg with your spoon, head cradled in your hand as you stare down at the ground; it’s a pitiful scene, and you’re probably scaring off any potential future teammates, but in the moment, you truly couldn’t care less.

“Does it taste that bad?” The voice is teasing, and you immediately know who it is before she even sits down beside you.

“I’m not hungry right now, that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” she says with a laugh, and you finally look up from the speck on the floor just to shoot her a dirty look. She responds with a mischievous one in kind. “You feel bad or something? Starving yourself isn’t gonna change the vote on your chest.”

With a heavy sigh, you shove a spoonful of rice in your mouth just to shut her up, but all you do is earn another laugh from her. It’s a nice sound to hear, but you'd jam your spoon into your neck before admitting something like that to her.

“Where are the other three?”

She raises a brow and slightly leans back, revealing Min-su almost tucked into her side like a shaking child. If you all didn’t share your ages earlier, you would've thought he was only in his late teens with the way he was acting. “Thanos and Nam-gyu are digging into their candy stash again, if you know what I mean.”

A loud unprompted Woo! C’mon Man! from across the room confirms her answer, and you scoff.

“Addicts.” Another laugh from her, and finally, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough with trying to eat when your body damn near wants to reject it. “So, why are you here then?”

“Same as everybody else,” she looks over at you with an expression that says ‘obviously.’ “I’ve got some debt I’m trying to get rid of.”

You’re about to clarify that you actually meant to ask her why she was here, next to you and not why she was participating in a bunch of death games, but you push that thought aside for now. Curiosity takes over as your eyes try to uncover something, anything in her expression.

Piercings, careless attitude, but her eyes are soft when she looks at you and Min-su. She seems smart enough. Beautiful as well. How the hell did someone like her get into enough debt to want to participate in something like this?

“Aren’t you afraid of dying though?” It’s a weirdly deep question that you regret asking as soon as it leaves your mouth, but she only does her signature smirk before answering you.

“There are plenty of things out there that can kill me too. This place isn’t so different.” Except for the fact that you’re now living with the possibility of being shot for failing a kids’ game, but alright, you can accept that answer. When faced with your silence after her answer, Se-mi lifts a hand to gently grab the blue patch on your chest, examining it with apparent interest.

“How about you? Why did you choose to die?”

It’s an incredibly morbid way to put it even though from her tone, you can tell she’s obviously joking. Either way, it makes you grimace and destroys the confident demeanor you tried to hold up to match with hers. What could you say to a question like that? That you signed up to get money for someone else? That you could maybe even have lived a debt-free, semi-peaceful life without this other person, but you would rather die without her?

“It’s… yeah, it’s debt money for me too.” The lie leaves your mouth easily, but Se-mi doesn’t look convinced at all. Her doubtful gaze burns holes into the side of your face, and you’re beginning to desperately search for something to take her attention off you. Your reprieve comes in the form of the slight movement you spot behind her.

You don’t actually know this woman, and for now, you don’t intend to.

“Min-su, how about you?” Her intense gaze finally breaks, and she shifts to look at Min-su as well.

“Huh?”

“Why are you here?” You force your voice to be softer this time, less urgent to match with his jumpy nature. He’s calmer now, but there’s still shame evident in his expression even though he hasn’t even told you two anything yet.

“I… I just had some student loans, that’s all.” Se-mi makes the same face she made at you towards him and he winces, obviously unwilling to spill his secrets. You almost feel bad for the guy, especially with the way Se-mi is beginning to pester him a bit now. Seems like two unnecessarily vague answers were pushing her buttons a bit, and the idea that you’ve managed to irk this carefree woman is kind of satisfying.

After a while of listening to their back and forth (which mainly consisted of Min-su asking Se-mi how she’s so calm in ten different ways), out of pure boredom, you decide to test the waters one last time.

“It’s not really debt money for me.”

This catches their attention straight away, and Se-mi looks far more interested in this answer than your previous one. You drop your eyes back to the ground in preparation for your admission.

“Then what’s it for?”

“I’m planning on giving all the money I win to someone else. They’ll use it for their own... personal reasons.” Not exactly the full truth, but it’s part of it and you think she deserves at least that after recruiting you to her team.

For a second, you expect laughter to break out right in your face. You prepare to answer questions about why you would risk your life for someone else’s goal, but it never comes. Instead, when you look back up, all you see are two pairs of understanding eyes, not a hint of mockery in their gaze.

If anything, Se-mi almost looks proud of your answer.

“Actually… I joined the game to try and help my mom out a bit, that’s all. I wasn’t able to get a good job after school, so I want to make up for it.” Min-su’s words sound like those of a young boy still trying to understand the world around him. “I’m all she’s got left now.”

What was someone like him doing in an evil place like this?

“Man, you two are making me feel kinda bad,” Se-mi says, chuckling to herself before leaning back a bit to look at you square in the face.

She doesn’t doubt Min-su’s story, and even though she doubted yours for a split second, she sees nothing but genuine honesty and a hint of embarrassment in your eyes. This revelation fills her with relief, and for the first time, she spares you both a genuine smile.

“I figured you two were nice, generous people when we teamed up.” The newfound but genuine friendliness she exudes surprises you, but it’s a welcome change. “I’m glad I might just be right, and I’m hanging out with some good people for once.”

“Well, I hope I could say the same about you.”

She throws her head back in laughter at this, and you begin to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to know these people after all.

—

“Can I use the bathroom please?”

This time, you don’t bother to knock, and as expected, your voice is all she needs to open the door and step aside. It was actually surprisingly quick this time too, as if she had been waiting on the other side already.

The air is tense, a feeling you never really associated with No-eul, but it’s late and the earlier conversation you had with your two new friends didn’t do much to dispel your undying anxiety about tomorrow. You can feel her gaze on you even from behind that mask, but you pay her no mind as you rush your wet hands across your reddened face and hair. The cooling effect is instant, and now, you finally feel ready to face her.

“Take off the mask, please.” Your voice is more exasperated than you intended it to be, but you can’t cover up the fatigue you’ve been feeling since the start of the games. It’s probably more of an emotional exhaustion thing, but you don’t want to think about all that right now.

As she’s going through the process of removing the layers covering her face from you, you begin heading over to the far end of the bathroom, eventually dropping to the floor with a heavy sigh. She’s staring at you expectedly.

“The gloves too.”

She doesn’t protest or even sigh, simply pulling them off her hands before shoving them into the pockets of her pink tracksuit. She takes this opportunity to run her fingers through her hair, bangs previously stuck to her face being pushed back out of the way. In that process, she reveals a red, clearly fresh cut on the side of her face. You practically jump up from the floor and stomp right back over to her.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Don’t worry, it was just a tussle with some of the other guards.” Your hands gingerly cup her face as you tilt it to examine the wound. She can feel her skin tingle where your fingertips gingerly graze it. “I handled it.”

You sigh heavily at her dismissal of the open wound on her face and walk around her to grab some paper towels, turning on the faucet to let cold water flow onto them.

“Fuck, No-eul, you’re not even participating in the games and you’re still finding ways to get injured.” Your hands are still shaking a bit when you come back over to her, gently dabbing the dried blood off her cheek. Her gaze is heavy on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look her in the eye right now. Not when you can practically feel her eyes all over your face, your body, every part of you.

As she stands there, No-eul’s mind begins to wander. How can you stand here, right in front of her after everything? Sometimes she genuinely believes you’re an angel sent from heaven to give her reprieve from the pain in her life; a gentle soul, who, even now, overlooks her greatest faults.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out, gently taking your trembling hand in hers and pulling it away from her face. There’s an uncharacteristic softness in her expression, but you’ve seen it enough times to understand what it really conveys: guilt.

“You don’t have to apologize for something like this,” you say, clearing your throat as you turn to throw the paper towel away. “If you say everything’s fine, I’ll believe you.” Like always.

It's silent for a moment - almost peaceful - before her face twists as if she's just recalled an unpleasant memory.

“Who was that girl you were with? 380.” You scoff at her sudden question and turn around with pure confusion on your face.

“What?”

“She brought you over to those drug heads earlier. It’s not safe to hang around people like that, especially not in a place like this.” You bite back a response that said, well, you're currently with one of the guards that were gunning down people earlier, so how does that work?

“God, No-eul, it’s just a shitty temporary team-up kind of thing,” you laugh slightly at your own words, making sure to leave out your already growing attachment to two people in your little group. “What, did you expect me to try to do this all on my own?”

Her growing agitation is evident as her jaw visibly clenches and she turns away a bit, resting her hands on the back of the rifle slung around her shoulder. “I’m saying you should choose better, they’re the type of people who would drop you in a split second if it meant they could survive another day.”

“You think I don’t know that? Two of them are constantly high out of their minds and the other two-” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, shutting your eyes as your head droops; unfortunately, you can’t actually think of any reason you could have to distrust the unexpectedly kind girl and the shy boy you’ve grown acquainted with.

If they turned their backs on you, you would be lying if you said it wouldn’t phase you in the slightest.

No-eul begins feeling guilty again when she watches your shoulders drop and your eyes dim at the realization of the shitty situation you’ve found yourself in. Even so, her eyes don’t miss the unchanging patch on your sweater: a blue rectangle, neatly stitched with an O in the center. She bites her lip and curses under her breath. Always playing the hero, even at the expense of yourself.

She slowly walks back over to you, lifting up a single hand to trace the patch that signified your choice to give your life for hers.

“The issue isn’t the money,” the broker exclaims, his voice a mix of pity and exasperation at her persistence. “We’ve searched, we’ve been searching for years now, but a one-year old alone… especially after her mother deserted…?” Her expression hardens and he winces at the unintentional cruelty in his statement. “It’s almost impossible by now, No-eul.”

Her anger is barely contained when she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder, and a newfound calmness washes over her in waves.

“We understand the circumstances, sir, but please, please keep searching.” His expression softens slightly at the kind, weary smile on yours. “We’ll handle the expenses, all we ask is that you believe in this search too.”

She almost wants to cry at the sound of your sweet voice.

“We still have hope.”

“Get out of your head, No-eul.”

She’s startled back to reality when she feels gentle hands caress the scars on her wrists. Instinctively, she goes to pull away, but you step forward at the same time and press your body against hers, keeping a firm yet gentle grip on her wrists, fingertips still tracing the marks of the pain she’s held onto for seven years.

“Please don’t forget, this was my choice.” Your voice is muffled against the crook of her neck, but it’s just as gentle as she remembers it to be. “I still have hope.”

With those simple words, she feels the dream she’s held onto for years glow just a bit brighter. Closing her eyes, she leans head to rest atop yours, gently removing her arms from your grip to wrap them firmly around your body. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate her hold.

“Me too.” Your grip on her tightens just barely. “I still have hope too.”

—

A/N: WOW SORRY PLOT DUMP ALERT!! I love some good set-up but I hope the yearning was enough to make up for the lack of obvious romance like smut..

Never posted on Tumblr before too so I have no clue if I did this right (like formatting)! again, any thoughts on the fic are appreciated and ill probably (hopefully) finish part 2 soon! that part will prob be better cuz the relationship between all characters are all set up now. might cross post on ao3/wattpad but haven't decide yet

[hiding-under-the-willow]

I am being brave and wandering into your ask box so you can ramble about the ghost au. It looks neat and I'm so curious owo

YAY YEAH YIPPEE!!!

Okay I'm just gonna try and synthesize all of the random notes I've written in the last few days into something of a vaguely coherent list lol

Grian and Joel are roommates looking for a new flat when they get the call that Grian has inherited a house, they very impulsively and foolishly decide to keep the thing that is way too large and far too run down for the two of them to handle, the house is so incredibly haunted, normal bbc ghosts plot ensues

Grian is the one who almost dies and ends up being able to see ghosts. Mumbo is the one who pushes him out the window. Which is ironic bc Mumbo was very much not pro killing the new inhabitants of the house when the other ghosts were scheming ways to get rid of them.

Okay so ghost facts.

Bdubs is obviously highly based on Robin the caveman, I imagine him being slightly closer to the end of the paleolithic period than Robin. I think he may or may not have had some weird cult stuff going in. Weird cult leader caveman guy worshiping the sun and moon. Yes the cloak is real moss. There's bugs in that thing

Wels and Hels killed eachother in a duel, right on the property line, which now neither of them can cross in death. So now both of them is just stuck on either side of the fence seething about it for the rest of time. I like how ridiculous and arbitrary the ghost property line rules are in ghosts, so I find this incredibly funny. Hels is the guy Black Knight stories are based on

Ren wasn't actually a king, he was some type of noble who tried to declare himself king of a specific area, hence the beheading. Whooooooo let's go treason!!

Cleo was not doing actual witch craft at the time she was accused of it, she was however probably doing other illegal and vaguely fucked stuff. Mayhaps that's why she was accused, someone wanted her out of the way and that was an easy and surefire way to get rid of her

Keralis. My silly silly little guy. Our Kitty stand in. I just thought the idea of him dying from pufferfish poisoning was really funny considering him and XB's whole thing. I wanna have XB around, I can't decide if I want him to be a marine biologist of some kind who drowned on the next property over that keralis talks to over the fence, or if he's just like a grounds keeper who takes care of the lake next door that keralis is parasocially obsessed with lol

Beef. Beef my beloved. Period piece romance novel protagonist looking mf <3 He grew up in a family of butchers, became an impressionist painter instead of joining the family business. Focused a lot on pastoral scenes, especially stuff involving farm animals and especially cows. His family thought his career choice was kind of useless and frivolous, his artist colleagues thought his choice of painting subject was kind of frivolous. That's where he got the nickname 'Beef', now it's all anyone remembers him by, AND the fucking paints killed him 😔

Scar!!! The scammiest fucking traveling salesman on the planet. Death of a Salesman death of the American dream type vibes on that guy. He's gotta pay his medical bills somehow man, can't even really blame him for all the grifting. He probably should've been more careful with who he was scamming though, he maybe pissed off the wrong guy (do not scam mobsters! They will have someone kill you about it!)

Xisuma, given the greatest honor of being my Captian stand in. He was a sharp shooter, until his eye got fucked up and he lost his good aim. They shipped him off to the country side to work in 'intelligence', he takes his job very seriously despite this obviously just being somewhere they put him to not have to deal with him. Seriously enough in fact to discover a spy in their ranks! Just in time for that spy to kill him real bad. Damn.

Joe my absolutely beloved. Pat stand in but not quite. He was a popular radio host, he did a lot of volunteer work as a voice/performer for hire. He gets recruited to do some announcer work for a scouting event. There is, mayhaps, a much more. Uh. DIY. Scouting event happening on the next property over. There is an accident involving some homemade fireworks next door (cubfan. when I get you cubfan.), the fireworks going off scares some kid in the middle of fucking around with a bow, Joe gets shot, you can assume the rest. Cub is ghosting around next door cause of the fireworks accident if it makes you feel any better lol

Mumbo my stupid nervous guy. Ran a large tech startup in the late 90s, should not have been given that kind of power over a company. Accidentally did like. A lot of finance crime. Found out about said finance crime and immediately had a fucking heartattack and died from the panic. My cringe fail businessman I love you

Yeah yeah okay so neighbor ghosts. Cub, Hels, maybe XB, and Gem.

Etho is their weird annoying neighbor, he can also see ghosts, but it'll take awhile for everyone to figure that out.

In the same way Grian can see ghosts bc Mumbo tried to kill him, Etho can see ghosts bc Hels tried to kill him (haven't decided how exactly that went down yet)

I've been thinking about what to do with the basement ghosts and I think I want to put team zits down there.

Uh. Other human cast. Jimmy is around! He kind of fills an Obi type role, silly friend who is just kind of around a lot. I think I wanna have Lizzie as like a local barista Joel has a crush on. The ghosts get in his way every time he tries to make a move on her.

Obviously a lot of the ghosts aren't strict one to one fill ins for the original show's ghosts. Ren and Beef are both kind of drawing elements from both Thomas and Humphrey, Wels and X are both kind of drawing from Fanny and Cap, Scar and Mumbo both kind of combine to make up Julian's character. So on and so forth. All of the stuff with Etho and his property's ghosts is obviously all stuff I just did cause I thought it was fun lol

Oh yeah! Ghost powers! Okay obvious stuff, Bdubs has Robin's ability to fuck with lights, Cleo has the same burning smell as Mary, Mumbo can push stuff like Julian. Non obvious stuff. I want Joe to be able to be heard through like radios and phones and such. Hels has to have something to have almost killed Etho but I've yet to decide what that is. If Hels has something I think it would be funny to then have Wels also have the same power, but like. Weaker. So he can be pissy about it. Obviously.

Uh yeah that's all i can think of off the top of my head

Anyways, yeah!!! That's the basic constructions of this au. I had this idea like 3 days ago and have. Obviously thought about it a lot in that time lmao

You can't put two pieces of media in front of me and not expect me to go insane about it <3

[blueblossomrose]

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, Marriage, children, household contents, afab!fem!MC, general hcs.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Resume HCs [3]

He already had everything planned for when he graduated. Well, except for the girlfriend part, but he considered that on the list as an additional gain.

He opened a new restaurant. He thought about giving it a different name than the one he had at NRC, but decided that Mostro Lounge was too good to change.

He had enough money being the money freak that he is. He was still nervous to propose to MC, afraid that you wouldn't accept.

His mother was almost pushing him off for it.

The marriege happened. Finally.

After a few years, they had two children together.

A boy named Alon and a girl named Merlia.

He still works for Azul after graduating. But now, manager Jade Leech reports for duty 🫡

(When you asked him why, he said it was because he was used to. Azul pays him well, and thanks to his years of experience and contract, he can dedicate himself to his hobby with mushrooms and to you.)

You realize months later that the money actually is true, just like Jade said.

During all the family gatherings before the proposal, MC could swear his family was planning something.

When the proposal came, MC understood. Ah, that was it.

They had twins. Two girls: Olivia and Olga.

He was also working at Mostro Lounge, yay!

Why? Well, Jade was there. Azul was there too. Isn't that reason enough?

He doesn't find appeal in most professions on the land, and even if he did, he'd honestly get bored in less than a week. At least in the Mostro Lounge, when he gets bored, Azul doesn't fire him because he doesn't want to work (this cephalopod won't admit it that this is for childhood friend reasons)

The thought of getting married didn't cross his mind, until his parents and Jade talked to him and how MC seemed happy with the idea of getting married.

On the day of the proposal, MC asked him if he wouldn't get bored being with her for so long. Floyd laughed and replied that there was no way he could even think about getting tired of you.

They had three children after marriage: two girls, Doris and Agnes, and a boy named Marvin.

[the-californicationist]

Cali Cali bo-bali banana fana fo-fali me my mo mali! Cali!

I'm three Budweisers in and got an itch for alpha Price with a sudden need to breed (yay! Surprise rut!), and there's his sweet smelling omega neighbor who he's been keeping at arm's length because he's a professional dammit and has complete control of his urges, thank you very much.

Honestly, I just wanna see Mr. "I'm Married to My Job" lose it and show back up on base abashed and mated, and also ridiculously proud of his lil omega's claiming bite, because "she turned into a wildcat, lads. I couldn't stop her." *wink-wink*

Or not. I'm happy with any smutty Price fic you bestow on us, really. I'm just being weirdly specific because— alcohol = horny thots. 🍺😏🥴🫠

Drunken hugs 🫂 from Random Thot

RTG!! You are the most amazing person, and every time I see your pfp on AO3 or tumblr, I just get all gooey inside. Thank you for the ask! I wrote (and fully deleted) this fic three times because I wanted to get it right. I just pray that I could deliver. <3 <3 Hope this is what you were hoping for!!

MDNI/NSFW -- TW: damsel in distress, ABO dynamics, knotting, fuck-or-die scenarios, CNC, fluids, PIV sex, female OC

Glory, Glory

It was his last beer of the night, and he was ripping it apart. Curling, soggy shards of the torn label were stuck under his thumbnail, darkening the translucent edge and making it look dirty. They littered the sticky, lacquered bartop like ugly snow, falling in a tiny, chaotic mess. His hands were more than just dirty, the captain thought to himself as he used his wide thumb to itch at the glue-covered glass, rolling little, paper shards away from the smooth surface to reveal the amber liquid swirling within. The captain’s hands; they were covered in blood. Not innocent blood, but blood all the same. They’d never be clean again. 

But, that was the job, and he was good at it. His hands were a direct reflection of his hard work. Killing evil bastards kept the world safe. Some poor sob in a factory could clean out the glue-painting machine that pasted these fuckin’ labels on all of these bloody beer bottles because of one unshakable truth: John Price was good at killing evil bastards.

Unfortunately, the killing would need to wait until after the mandated leave window closed again. His argument with Kate still grated inside of his head. He could almost hear her harsh, Yank accent in his ears.

“What do you want me to tell payroll, John? You can’t be here. You’ve got too many days. Go home. See your mom.”

“I see her plenty, Katie. Let me run that ops gig with Keller. C’mon. I’ll do overwatch,” he tried his best to weasel his way back into a bit of active duty.

“You’d be the world’s most expensive overwatch. Hell no. Here’s your ticket,” she shoved an envelope in his hands, “...and your money,” another envelope, “Go the fuck home, Captain. That’s an order.”

An order. More like a toothless threat. 

But, alas, here he was, staring at a freshly shaved, buzzcut version of himself in a filthy pub mirror, undressing bottles left and right. 

“Another, mate?” The barkeep pointed to his almost-empty drink, making a slight grimace at the paper graveyard that was sprinkled across his bar.

“No,” John sighed, pulling out a few notes from his wallet, “I’m off.”

“Happy Christmas,” the barkeep took the bills and didn’t bother to look up again, setting himself to sweeping the torn strips off of the surface, preparing for the next paying customer. 

“You, too,” John muttered, tugging his black wool beanie over his ears before braving the classic cold, wet, and windy Liverpudlian night. 

He didn’t live far. John’s mum had kept up his loft down by the docks, but it certainly didn’t feel like home. Home wasn’t real. Not anymore. As he walked along the Mersey’s edge, he peered into the black water, wondering if he’d ever truly go home again. 

All of a sudden, he heard a shrill scream. Every sense that had been dulled by his lager was now as sharp as a blade and set on its edge. Again, a high-pitched shout pealed through the night air, beckoning him back to his heroism. That keening was the sound of some evil that needed stamping out, and he was hungry for it. 

He sprinted through the warehouse district, chasing the noise of scuffling, ducking behind alleys and abandoned garages, looking for the source. Finally, there was a flash of red that caught his eye, so he ran towards it, his mind making sense of the scene in front of him. 

Voices were jumbled and mashed up together, barely registering in his mind.

“Out here in a fuckin’ heat. Dumb bitch! C’mere.”

“She’s got a knife!”

“C’mere, you little slag. Get –”

In the middle of three huge, stinking Alphas, a tiny Omega was struggling, arm outstretched, brandishing her knife at them to keep them at bay. John came up behind the biggest one, some bald fuck with a dirty coat, and dropped him, cracking his spine in two places with well-placed fists, and breaking his jaw on his way down to the ground, leaving him groaning on the concrete. 

One of his mates, a older man with thick, black eyebrows, lunged at Price, a look of indignant surprise on his face. The Omega screamed, her red coat yanked back over her face by the third man, her knife clattering to her feet. Price focused on Mister Eyebrows, dodging a lazy haymaker before popping him twice in the nose, drawing out his blood and knocking out at least two of his front teeth. Then, John grabbed him by the collar, pulling his jaw into his raised knee and listening to the satisfying splash as he fell into a murky puddle. 

Finally, he set his sights on the last Alpha of the pack whose ropey arm was looped across the Omega’s neck, choking the air from her lungs. He growled at Price, his scent turning to rancid fear,

“Stay back! She’s mine, you big bastard.”

The captain had nothing to say. With a practiced ease, he side-stepped her assailant, breaking the elbow that controlled her throat, making him release her immediately. The evil bastard stumbled back, hand outstretched, bargaining for his life, 

“Wait, wait. I’ll share her with you, how’s that? I’ll even let you have first go!”

A deafening howl came out of his mouth as Price’s boot heel made contact with his kneecap, forcing it to snap at a terrible angle. John’s hand shot out and grabbed the man by the hair on the crown of his head, tugging cruelly at his scalp. Without mercy, John slammed his face into a nearby bollard, and the howling stopped.

It was quiet again aside from the Omega’s trembling breaths. She had recovered the knife and was now pointing it towards John with shaking hands and wide, determined eyes. 

“You alright, love?” Price asked, holding his hands up in a sign of peace, edging towards her in gentle, predictable steps. 

“Y-yeah… Stay! Stay right there,” her voice was bright and clear, and he could hear her strength laced through her words. He stopped in his tracks, respecting her wishes.

“What are you doin’ all the way out here, darlin’?”

“They dragged me over here from Baltic Fleet,” she straightened up, getting her bearings, wiping the blood from a small cut in her cheek, “Fuckin’ bastards. Thank you, by the way.”

“Jus’ doin’ my job,” Price shrugged, waiting for her to lower the knife even further before he continued his approach.

“Police?” She asked, a little confused. 

“Not exactly,” Price smiled, offering a hand out to her, “John Price, Captain of His Majesty’s RAF service.”

“Oh,” she studied him for a moment, and then her eyes fell to the hand, ready to bite but deciding to shake it instead. 

When he touched her skin, Price felt her fever. Shocked, he tightened his grip, not meaning to startle her but too surprised by her temperature to ignore it.

“Christ, love. You’re burnin’ up.”

As quick as a flash, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and retreated back towards the wall of the warehouse behind her, scooting her way towards the corner to get out of his range, ready to bolt. She didn’t respond, but John watched as she wiped her brow, dotted with sweat and covered in concern. 

“Hey,” he moved forward again protectively, “You can’t be out here alone. Not like this. At least let me walk with you. I’ll stay ten paces behind. It’s not safe.”

“I’m fine,” she said with more strength in her voice than what she was ready to produce.

“You’re not. You’re in a bloody heat. When did it start?” He watched as her knees began to tremble, and against her obvious wishes, he helped her sit on the warehouse deck, letting her keep the knife so she could feel safe. 

“Yesterday…” She closed her eyes, trying to shake it off, “It’s… I’m fine. It’s never this bad.”

Now that he was close to her, Price was smothered by the scent of her body. The Omegan glands in her neck smelled like thick, wild honey, and her heat was mixing with her aroma, turning an already sweet smell into a lucious, decadent gourmand, pulling him in like quicksand. 

“C’mon,” he helped her up, “Where’s your place? I’ll get you close.”

The clang of her knife made him glance up to see her eyes closed and her mouth slack. She was out, too weak to withstand the fever and the physical exertion. 

Price felt his body react to her need. He was filled with rage, white and hot, at her situation. Those goddamn monsters were trying to take advantage of her in this vulnerable state. She should be home in her nest, being taken care of by her Alpha, covered in soothing oils and cool compresses, her needy little cunt stuffed full of his knot, staving off these symptoms and enduring them for her. Instead, she’d been hunted, chased, made to fight for her dignity out here in the middle of the docks. Something else inside Price’s chest curled around his anger. 

Possession. 

He tried to shake it off, knowing it came from being unmarked, but it had been so many years as a lone Alpha that he knew how to control it. Or, at least he thought he did. 

Now, though, he found himself pulling at the neck of her coat as he held her in his arms, invading her privacy to check for a bite. He felt the shame wash over him as he covered her skin back up. He had no business searching for a mating bite. She was not his Omega, and he was not her Alpha. 

After a few minutes out in the chilled wind, he made it to his apartment. Thankfully, it was late enough that his neighbors weren’t outside to witness what looked like a literal kidnapping, and he shuffled her inside without much trouble. Price lay her down on his long, leather sofa, careful to rest her head on the soft arm. He went to the kitchen to retrieve a cold rag and pressed it to her forehead, hoping to hold back the fever for as long as he could.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Wake up,” he whispered, trying to gently shed her coat and sweater, peeling her layers off to bring her temperature down to a more manageable level. 

She moaned, her eyes wrenching shut even tighter, her face twisted in pain,

“My head…” She sighed, desperate for some relief. 

“I know, love. C’mon,” John propped her up a bit, moving the rag so that the coldest parts would be against her skin, “What’s your name? I can find an address. Do you have your purse?”

“They… took it? I don’t… I dunno…” She muttered, obviously having a hard time stringing her thoughts together, “I don’t feel so good.”

This was not ideal. Price knew what came next. A high fever, exhaustion, fatigue, nausea, increased heart rate, and then… 

“Alpha?” Her eyes were open, glassy and dark, the pupils fully blown, looking up at him with an outpouring of unfathomable need. Her scent rolled off of her in mind-altering waves, shoving Price’s carefully-built walls out of the way and sending shocks of desire straight to his heart and his fat, growing cock. 

“No, baby. I’m not your Alpha. Who is he? Can you give me a name?” John asked, checking her coat pockets in a rushed panic. He was running out of time. 

“Alpha, please… I need… Help me, please,” her shaking hands reached under his jacket and shirt, her knuckles rubbing against his furry belly, her strong fingers digging around for his belt buckle, getting right to the point. 

Price felt the room flex around him, and he tried to breathe in air that wasn’t saturated by her vanilla spice, searching in the deepest recesses of his mind for some semblance of his self control. 

“Easy, love. I can’t m–mmngh!” Her mouth slotted over his as he tried to protest, stopping his heart and his words at the same time. 

She was heaven. Her smell was making his skin tingle all over his body, down his arms and up his legs, rushing to his central, sacral core. And her taste was even better. His little cinnamon roll, so sweet and warm, burning for him like a flame, hot and ready to scar him for life. 

“Mngh… Love, mmm… Wait…” Price held her back, using more force than he thought he should need, surprised by her sudden power. 

“John…” He met her eyes and found a particular clarity within them. She was coming out of her haze. But, it wouldn’t last. This was his final chance to keep her from doing something she would regret. 

“Darlin’, I can’t. I’m not your Alpha.”

“You smell like you are,” she mewled, rubbing her wounded cheek across his engorged neck gland, spreading his scent all over herself. 

“I can’t,” he moved away from her, trying to hold her in his arms for comfort rather than to bask in her expressive heat, “My work… I can’t leave you here, pretty girl.”

She sobbed out, trying to hold back from writhing against his body, doing everything she could not to make it harder for him to turn her down. Her eyes were rimmed red and pink from exhaustion, and she was staring down at her own hands, vibrating with tremors, slurring her words,

“Just lock me in the bath. I’ll run cold water. I’ll be fine…”

Something ancient and feral snarled in Price’s mind. 

No.

“No,” he said, involuntarily, the voice in his head escaping from his throat. 

“Please… I can’t stop myself… I want your knot, Alpha. Lock me up before I do something to you… Something you don’t want…” She could barely put two words together. Every thought was a struggle. He was losing her again. 

He grabbed her and held her to his chest, clutching her like water in his palm, using all his strength to keep her with him,

“I want you, love. I want… Fuck, I need you.”

All of a sudden, the energy around their bodies stilled. That cracking, sparking electricity that bound them together was roiling just beyond John’s consciousness, ready to surge. But, he stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what she did next. She locked eyes with him and leaned in close, as if she would kiss him. But, she didn’t. She dipped her head down until she found his Alphic gland, swollen and bruised purple from him holding back his lust, nuzzling at it with the tip of her nose, rooting against him, testing his patience, checking to see if his temperament was true. Then, when he let her sniff him in his most potent spot, when she knew his soul was as pure as his scent, that he was true, she sucked his flesh between her lips, drawing his musk onto her tongue.

She’d accepted him. He reeled from it, unable to hold back a groan, his cock jerking against his zipper, thrashing to escape, flooding with hot blood and threatening to fill his knot before he’d even had a chance to taste her. 

John pulled her mouth off of him and stared at her eyes again, in awe of her beauty, his mind swirling and yet perfectly sharp, begging her darkly,

“Give me your neck, Omega.”

The ritual had begun, and as she swept her hair away from her shoulder, pulling it around her back, she bent for him, arching her head down in a submissive bow, revealing her Omegan mating line. It looked like a keloid scar, the raised skin swollen and painful, like a pounding vein that ran from below her earlobe down to the top of her shoulder, full of her hormones and thick with her magic. One bite, and he would be in her thrall, pliant to her every whim, beholden to her needs until her heat had run its course. 

Price had never given his bite to anyone. It had been easy to abstain. In fact, in his youth, he had a hard time understanding his mates’ commitments to their Omegas, scoffing at their lack of duty to their stations, doubting their commitment, and - moreover - doubting their loyalty. He remained a captain through and through, and he’d never made room for anyone or anything else. But, here he was, his teeth aching in his jaw, bigger and sharper than they should’ve been, his every sense heightened and taking her in like a drug, compelling him to punch through her delicate flesh and suck her nectar deep into his belly. 

The feeling of her skin against his lips was enough to send a chill through his body. He was cooling from the inside out, and his body needed her heat. She was forcing a rut to take hold in him, and he could feel himself changing for her. Then, he bit down as hard as he could, breaking the thin seal of her mating line with ease, feeling the searing mixture of her oil and her blood filling his mouth and throat like a ripe plum, wet and sweet, and promising pleasure if he chose to swallow her. 

He drank from her for as long as he dared, taking her in long, slurping gulps, letting her essence coat his throat, feeling the hot fluid burn inside of his chest and down into his stomach where it pooled and lingered, warming him up from the inside out. 

“Alpha…” She moaned, raising her hand to cup his cheek as he sucked her life into himself, rubbing her thumb so softly over his shut eyelashes that he barely felt it. 

John pulled away from her, his eyes fluttering open, her bright orange blood iridescent with her mating oil, making the red cells burn bright like a fresh-cracked yolk, gleaming, trapped between his teeth like gold. He watched it drip down her chest, staining her clothes, and he began to tear them off of her. She let him, limp and mute as he peeled her open, making her naked and pulling her into his arms. 

He carried her into his bedroom, kicking open the door and busting the bolt through the strike, splintering the wood and not giving a shit about the damage. John lay her in the middle of the mattress and set to surrounding her with whatever softness he could find; his shirts, his blankets, even his scarves. Anything warm and comfortable was added to the nest, giving her as much support as he could before standing back to admire his work. 

She eyed him from her recumbent throne, commanding him with her gaze. John stripped off his shirt for her, raking it up his back and over his shoulders, feeling as if he was moving his body for her and only for her. All of his motions, even his ragged breaths, were only escaping from his lungs because she wanted them to. His buckle clattered apart, and he popped open the button of his jeans, lowering the zipper in a sharp, metallic rip. 

Once free, his heavy prick flagged, leaping forward and pulsating for her, proudly showing her his gleaming head. He was drooling an unrelenting stream of iridescent precome, his balls tight and full of Alphic oil, ready to coat her warm insides with his shining sex. 

John climbed onto the bed, his face focused on her wet mound, admiring the plumpness of her, imagining her - in every delicious way - like a tender peach. He crawled to her, his mouth still stained neon orange from her gland, and he smeared her wet quim all over his lips and tongue. He wasn’t licking her so much as he was wearing her like warpaint, moving his nose and cheeks through her to ensure he was soaked in her heady slick, his body making wild, unbridled choices purely on instinct.  

“Yes, baby, please…” Her voice went straight through him like a bullet, tightening his cockhead to an uncomfortable degree, and it jerked against the mattress in protest. Her hands were in his hair, scratching through his scalp, encouraging him to sink his tongue deep inside of her hole. 

John obeyed, helpless to her desire, his mind wiping clean and being rewritten by her will. He was swimming in her scent, drenched in her slick, and gasping against her pussy, his eyes fixated on her form as it writhed above him. When she met his eyes, she bit the inside of her lip, crying out for him, rewarding him for his prostrated fealty. Then, she began to rock her hips against his jaw, fucking herself on his face, and he let her use him to her heart’s content, staying strong and sure, allowing his body to be used, objectified and glorified by it. 

When she began to come, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He followed his tongue inside of her with two of his thick fingers, pressing against her walls, pushing her over the edge. She bolted upright, wrapping her thighs around his face, smothering him with her body, trapping him breathless between her legs. Her whole being trembled for him. He could feel the shimmer of her very soul, rattling and writhing with her siren-like keening. And just when he started to see spots in his vision, needing air just a little less than he needed to please her, she lay open for him, blooming outward like a flower, releasing him from a limbo he longed to return to, oozing with a stream of rainbow-tinted come, the Omegan oil within her womb escaping to advertise its promises to her mate. 

Without knowing why, John found himself lapping it up from her pulsing hole like a hound, swallowing mouthful after mouthful and grunting with each pass of his broad tongue. 

“John, I need... Please, put your knot inside me. I’ll be good…” She begged, tears shining at the corners of her eyes from her come-drunk bliss, her hands plucking at her nipples and trying to soothe herself down from her high. 

“My pretty girl wants this knot, yeah?” John grinned devilishly, dipping his finger into her over and over and licking it clean like she was a jar of endless honey, “Wants me to breed this gorgeous cunt…”

At that comment, she spread her legs even wider for him, opening up for him like a blossom for the sun, ready to take whatever he had to give her. It was mesmerizing for John to see her like this. Everything about her was filled with intoxication and need. He was just a vessel for her pleasure, pouring himself into her to make her full again. Dizzy and drunk with adoration, he notched his girth at her entrance, struggling to fit even his cockhead within her. 

“Fuck… so bloody warm…”

Her body was burning him with every millimeter he sank into her, the heat of her tight sex in such high contrast with his cool rut. It felt like he was swimming in a roiling pot of sugary caramel, clinging and cloying and sticking to every part of him, and yet it was not enough. He needed more. His hips thrust forward, savage yet steady, reaching deep inside of her like an anchor, rushing to settle himself within her darkness. 

The way his Omega cried out this time was different, and it snapped him to her attention, his mind immediately sensing a new need. 

“Love, tell me what you need.” He purred, his mouth kissing her lips and her neck, lapping at the now-healing wound his own fangs had made, talking to her between long licks of his tongue, “Tell me, and it’s yours.”

“You’re so big. I’ve never…” She sounded ashamed. 

Price slowed to a creeping pace, focused fully on her face, 

“Never had a knot before?”

She shook her head, her eyes full of worry. John wrapped her up in his arms, dragging himself out of her slowly before filling her up again as carefully as he could.

“Tha’s alright, baby. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“Feels like I’m burning alive,” she sighed, her brow furrowing with distress, “John, I need… I don’t know how…”

“Look at me, alright?” He helped her focus her eyes on his, “Don’t… Just stay with me, right here. You’re gonna come for me, and then… I’ll give you what you need.”

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice so small. 

Price set himself on a path with a purpose. He used his hand to rub small, rhythmic circles beside the rigid body of her clit, coaxing her pussy to drop even more slick around him, using every ounce of willpower he had left not to let his knot slip inside of her prematurely. His thrusts were jerky and restrained, but he felt her begin to rock back and forth with his hand’s movements, bringing her closer and closer to her glowing joy. 

“Good girl,” he praised her, watching her as she began to fall apart around him, “Tha’s my good little Omega. Come for your Alpha just like that. Just… mmf-fuck! Like that! Holy fuck.”

The feeling of her slick pussy clenching and twisting around his cock’s tugid body was enough to make him see stars. He felt almost sick with pleasure, his whole core lighting up like a roaring fire, spitting and aching to bury himself within her. 

At the end of her crescendo, he felt himself let go of the chain, and he rutted his knot inside of her, humping himself forward ruthlessly, his body contorting itself to fit her needs. His knot sealed him within her, and although he was not yet orgasming, he was filling her with his come, the creamy flow of it spilling out of his tip, filling her hole and coating his prick from inside of its hungry little sheath.

“Your come… I can feel it inside of me. Oh, my God,” she sighed with some sort of relief, her eyes rolling inside of her head, her arms losing their strength, and her back arching towards him, lifting up as if she would float right into Heaven. 

And just like that, her fever began to abate. With his knot stuffed inside of her, locking his seed within her hole, his Alphic oils could soothe her heat, bringing her back to the realm of consciousness and delivering her from her wild state. 

“John,” she lay back, her hand pressed to his cheek. 

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he bent forward on his elbows and kissed her mouth, chastely at first, and then languidly, exploring her taste. When he did finally pull away, she was awake and alert, sated and happy. He smiled down at her, 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered, wiping her hair back from her face. 

“Hey,” she smiled back at him, wrapping her ankles around his back for comfort, not knowing that it was just enough to set his cock on edge again, his Alphic instinct rejoicing at the feeling of being trapped by his mate. 

“You alright?” John asked, a tinge of worry at the edge of his voice.

“I am now, thanks to you,” she sighed, tucking herself in beneath him, rubbing her hands along his ribs and the soft fur of his back and arms, feeling every bit of him as if she was seeing him with her touch, “You saved me, Alpha.”

“Aye,” he nudged her jaw with his nose, asking her wordlessly to give him the vulnerable softness of her neck. She obliged, and he spoke to her between sucking kisses, “All mine. My Omega. Innit that right, baby?”

She was practically lambent beneath the scrutiny of his possession, rolling in it like a wave in the sand, captured by it and surrendering to the riptide of his unbreakable grip. She nodded, humming her ascent, her expression turning a little rueful right at the end of his kisses. The sorrowful timbre of her voice broke his heart, 

“I’m grateful. But, I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I’m so sor–”

“No,” he kissed her words away, feeling his length throb inside of her, urging him to kiss her again, “No, love.”

“I won’t bite you,” she promised, her gaze still full of apology, “You won’t be stuck with me.”

“Bite me, Omega,” he bent his head and buried his face in her shoulder, giving her his gland in total surrender, “Go on. I’m yours.”

“John…” She hesitated, but he could feel her body flood her hole, excited beyond measure at the thought of binding him to her as her mated Alpha. 

“Go on,” he commanded in his smoky growl, holding her tighter and bracing for the ecstasy of her teeth.

He felt her lips first, and his balls tightened, ready to fling him into a messy orgasm as soon as he felt his gland shatter in her mouth. Her Omegan teeth wouldn’t break the skin, but he knew she was strong enough to crack the shell around his swollen node. The anticipation of her bite was wrecking his mind, and he was gasping for breath by the time he felt her jaw set itself against him. 

“Baby, please…” He whined in her ear, his hips thrusting in short, jerking thrusts, unable to move much with his knot still trapped up inside of her, holding his gushing come in her hole, pushing it into her womb from the sheer volume of it. 

Her teeth connected, and he could hear his unbroken shell give way beneath her strength, the hormones inside of it rushing through his system like wildfire, burning through his veins and making him scream for her. At the same time, John felt his core throw him into a raw orgasm, his whole body trembling above her, wringing himself from the inside out. 

“Alpha,” she sighed, licking his neck to comfort him, “My Alpha…”

“Yours, baby. All yours.”

— — — — — 

The new trainees filed out of the gym, sweaty, bloody, and eager to be out of the captain’s sight. Price had run them ragged, forcing them to spar with practice weapons, pitting them against each other in a strained, exhausting competition. Ghost and Soap sat with Gaz as they eyed their commander, their eyes glued to the fresh bite mark on his neck, shocked into a silent stupor. 

“I cannae believe it. Mated? To which lassie?” Soap asked, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t think he’d ever take a mate,” Gaz marvelled.

“I thought he was savin’ himself for marriage,” Ghost quipped, earning himself a scuff from Soap.

Price made his way across the mat, pulling his sweaty shirt off his back to trade it for a clean one. The red welts and nail-marks across his shoulders and down his belly made Gaz let out a low whistle. But, his commander’s glare stopped him mid-note. 

“Wha’s that, Garrick?”

“Nothin’, sir. Just… admirin’ your battle scars,” Gaz smiled, wishing his two teammates would stop snickering so loudly. 

“Looks like a hell’uva fight, Cap,” Ghost added, looking everywhere but into Price’s icy eyes. 

“Wha’s her name?” Soap asked outright, skipping over the double entendres and going right for the point. 

Their captain sighed, zipped up his gym bag, and stood in front of his three officers, glaring down at them with a look that was on the border of dead-seriousness,

“If I told you that, lads, I’d have to kill you.”

[lovverletters]

aaah yay!! i wanted to ask if u could either do a yandere x yandere reader or like a bunny/cat/fox/puppy etc boy x reader! i hope u like the ideas x

Yandere! Bunny Hybrid X Reader

A/N : tysm for requesting! Hope you like this mwa mwa

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, mentioned of self harm, yandere behaviour, etc

«────── « ⋅ʚ🐰ɞ⋅ » ──────»

🐰Yandere! Bunny Hybrid who you met at the hybrid shelter when you were looking for a friend for your Neko Hybrid, Leo.

🐰Yandere! Bunny Hybrid who you thought of adopting at first but hold off the thought after seeing Leo's reaction to you smelling like another hybrid. They're really possessive of you!

🐰Yandere! Bunny Hybrid who you grew close to after volunteering at the shelter because your friend had asked you to. You learned his name is Lyod, his likes and dislikes as you care for him throughout your time at the shelter.

🐰Yandere! Bunny Hybrid who with each day passing by, Lyod and you had formed a tight bond together. He refused to be taken care of by any other worker or volunteers, he only ever listened to you. He's really devoted to you, you know?

🐰Yandere! Bunny Hybrid who begged for you to adopt him as your volunteering period came to an end. Please don't leave him here all alone! Not after all those times you've spent with him! He can't live without you!

"Please..! I just wanted to be yours!"

🐰Yandere! Bunny Hybrid whom you finally adopt after your friend reported that he has stopped eating and taking care of himself after you left. When you brought him home, unsurprisingly, your Neko hybrid was not pleased at all.

🐰Yandere! Bunny Hybrid who actively steal you away from Leo and always almost dies doing it. Demanding cuddles, kisses and your attention 24/7. Please give him more attention cause if you don't, he's going to cry and resort to unconventional way of getting your attention.

🐰 "Why are you tied up you ask, Master? Well, you've been paying attention to that annoying furball and not me! I think you need to repay me with some 'special' attention, Master.."

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[parkerdoeswriting]

Late Night Talking

(Dad!Spencer x GN!Babysitter!Reader)

category: fluff oneshot

summary: spencer’s daughter wonders about his and reader’s relationship

warnings: pure cringey fluff

word count: 2k

A/N: HHHH might not do a part two for this it’s lowkey embarrassing……… ALSO DONT ASK WHY I KEEP POSTING CHILDREN AND PREGNANCY FANFICS IM FERAL RN

Spencer had been gone on a case for around two days now, his unit being called out to consult on a case somewhere in Tennessee. So now you were staying at his house for the meantime, babysitting his four year old Alice, who you had been a nanny for since she was around nine months old. She and Spencer were practically your family, even though you’d never say it out loud to anyone.

“I wanna watch Frozen!!” Alice pouts, holding the dvd case out for you.

“Munchkin.. it’s almost bedtime” you laugh, crouching down to match her height.

“Pleaseeeee?” she says, giving you the most adorable puppy dog eye look.

You recheck the time, mentally making calculations on how long the movie will take, since you wanted her to keep with her bedtime schedule. 

“Didn’t you watch it two days ago?” you question the four-year-old, raising your eyebrow at her. 

“It’s my favourite movie!” she exclaims, holding out the dvd case more, begging you to take it.

“Okay, but it’s our secret okay?” you shake your head, taking the dvd and standing up.

“Yay!” she jumps up and down, hugging your leg.

“Come on, let's get your jammies on first” you pick her up, carrying her to her room.

You spend a couple minutes changing her into her pajamas, which coincidentally were Frozen themed. You swiftly brushed her long brown hair, styling them into two French braids. You move her to the bathroom, helping her brush her teeth.

“Thank you” she smiles, making an ‘uppie’ motion at you.

“Course hun” you pick her up, giving her forehead a quick peck. 

You head back downstairs and place her on the polyester couch, wrapping her in a fluffy blanket. You smile at the scene before heading to the player, slipping in the dvd. You sit back down next to her, in which Alice responds by resting her head on your lap. You gently trace circles into the back of her head with your finger, emitting a yawn from her. 

Hans and Anna’s song starts playing in the background, causing you to hum along to the beat, which you knew by heart. Alice giggles faintly, her eyes still peeled to the television. 

“Love is an open dooooooooor!” you sing along, pretending to hold a microphone.

“You’re so silly!” she squeals, laughing and squirming around.

You chuckle, pinching her cheek, causing her to giggle more. The song ends, and you see as she sits up to look at you. 

“What’s wrong baby?” you ask her, rubbing her back.

“Are you married?” she asks, sitting in a criss-crossed position.

You laugh softly, shaking your head.

“Why do you ask, Ali?” you tilt your head.

“Do you want to be married?” she scooches closer to rest her head against your arm.

“One day, maybe, if I meet the right person” you smile, holding the back of her head.

“Oh..” she yawns, clinging to your arm.

You move her to your lap, readjusting your body so you're lying on the couch and she's resting on you, trying to get her to sleep.

“Is daddy the right person?” she asks, the sleepiness evident in her voice.

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, your face red with embarrassment. 

“W-Why do you ask?” you play with her fingers, looking at how tiny they were compared to yours.

“Cause..” she mumbles quietly, a little shy to answer, “I want daddy to be happy, and he’s always happy when you're here”. 

The sentence sends a shockwave through your heart, causing your body to heat up.

“He is?” you ask, smiling. 

She smiles sleepily, nodding matter of factly before cuddling back into your chest. The movie plays in the background, but you don't pay attention, your head rushing with thoughts. You can hear faint snores mixing with the dialogues. You snap out of it, picking up the blanket and placing it over you both.

You check your phone for any new messages from Spencer, as he hasn’t called for his nightly phone call with Alice. You sigh as your notifications turn up empty, placing your phone back on the end table. You decide to get some hours of shut eye, having been exhausted from a day of entertaining an energetic kid. You shut off the tv, falling asleep moments later.

The next thing you know, you hear keys in the lock jingling, the door opening quietly. You hear footsteps stepping in and a bag dropping to the floor, you drowsily look over the couch, trying to see who it was.

Spencer walks into the living room, seeing your drowsy face and smiling. You put your finger to your lips, indicating for him to be silent, pointing it back down to where the sleeping Alice lays. He peers around the couch, laughing silently at the sight. You get up, gently picking her up, making sure she remains asleep as you bring her up the stairs to her room. You set her down, letting Spencer tuck her in. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She stirs slightly, a small smile creeping onto her face.

He looks back to you as you both leave her bedroom, and you notice the dark bags under his eyes. You smile softly, reaching out for him, giving him a small hug.

“You okay?” you whisper in his ear, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Rough case” he sighs, pulling away moments later.

“Wanna talk about it?” you head back down the stairs, getting ready to pack up your overnight bags so you can head to your apartment.

“I’m good, thanks” he follows closely behind you.

“Well then.. I should get going, if I wanna make the next subway” I smile sleepily at him, throwing various things back into my bag, making sure I have everything.

“You should really stay over.. it’s not safe for you to be out at this time” he speaks up, reaching for your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t want to impose..” you reply, your body heating up as you feel his touch.

“Please.. stay?” he says, his voice soft.

His words cause your heart to flutter, causing you to remember words his daughter said to you just hours earlier.

“He’s always happy when you're here”.

“Course” you smile once again at him, causing his face to blush a light pink.

He gives you a double handed thumbs up, before heading to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water and a quick snack. You trail after him, watching his movements.

“I can heat up some leftovers for you.. if you want?” you offer, leaning against the smooth countertop.

“It’s alright, I’m not that hungry” he shakes his head, snacking on some mixed fruit.

“Are you sure, when's the last time you haven't eaten something that came out of a vending machine?” you tease him.

He chuckles, looking at you.

“I’m fine, really, thanks for worrying” he leans his lanky body against the counter, next to you.

You both stand in relative silence for a while, watching as his hands dip back into the bowl of fruits. 

“Alice asked me a funny question tonight” you laugh quietly.

“Oh?” he nudges you with his elbow, beckoning you to say more.

“Yeah, she asked if you were the person I wanted to marry..” you rub your neck. 

He chokes on the berry in his mouth, coughing loudly, he tries to cover his mouth so Alice can't hear.

“She what?!” he stumbles over his words, his face red like the berries he was eating.

“She also said you are always happy when I’m around” I tease him, poking his chest.

He groans, holding his head in his hands.

“I can’t believe I’m raising my own little profiler” he laughs, rubbing his forehead. 

As if on cue, a small “Daddy?” can be heard from the top of the stairs, alongside the sound of mini footsteps stomping down them.

“Baby.. hi” Spencer swiftly moves to her, swooping her into his arms.

“You’re home!” she exclaims, still sleepy.

“I am, were you good while I was away?” he looks at her, his eyebrow raised.

“Yuh huh!” she nods, her face tucking into his neck.

“Good, good” he rubs her back, looking over to you once again.

You smile at the scene, imagining what life would be like if you were actually their family. You approach them, giving her head a soft caress.

“Look at my braids!” she claps her hands together excitedly, showing them off proudly.

“They look gorgeous” he kisses the top of her head, lingering there for a second. 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Alice pouts at Spencer, her small fingers in his wild hair.

He bites his tongue, knowing it’s impossible to say no to a request like this. You know he’ll most likely say yes, as she wasn’t the only one missing the other. 

“Just for tonight, alright?” he says, making her squeal in excitement.

“Are you staying for a sleepover?” she redirects her attention to you, smiling.

I nod as well, my mouth curling into a smile.

“Yay!!” she starts to celebrate, but gets cut off by a long yawn.

You all head back up the stairs, grabbing your overnight bag as you pass it. Alice watches you from behind Spencer, her eyes fighting to stay open. You wave her goodnight as you turn to open the guest room door, but you are swiftly met with objections. 

“No.. sleep with me and daddy!” she frowns, reaching her hands out for you. 

“Sweetie..” Spencer says, his voice filled with sternness.

“I’m sure your father wouldn’t feel comfortable with that, sorry baby” I lean your lips near her forehead, giving her a kiss. 

“I’m.. I’m fine with it, if you are…” he mumbles quietly. 

“Come on!!” she attempts to grab you.

“I will, just let me change first, okay?” you chuckle, heading back inside the guest bedroom. 

You change into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, brushing your hair and looking at yourself in the mirror. You make sure you look decent before heading to Spencer’s room, seeing Alice jumping around on his bed. 

“Hey monkeys” you giggle, making your way to the mattress. 

She happily jumps close to you, practically pulling you onto the bed. You sit down, crossing your legs together. 

“Okay Alice, it’s bedtime now, alright?” Spencer says, yawning as he rests his head on his pillow.

“Okayyy” she huffs, laying down beside him.

You rest on the edge of the right side, trying to put as much distance between you and Spencer as possible. Alice reaches for you, trying to pull you closer to her. You begrudgingly obey, rolling next to her. Spencer’s eyes watch you, a faint grin on his face. Alice attaches herself to you, cuddling into your chest. Your hand rests against her back, letting her face hide in your collarbone.

Spencer scooches closer, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder as she snoozes off. Your breathing hitches, your face flushing for the fifth time today. 

“I’m sorry if you feel pressured to do this, you can leave now if you really want to” he whispers, his eyes moving to his daughter's sleeping body.

“It’s fine” you remove your hand from her back, rubbing the back of your neck before returning it back to its position. 

He swallows nervously, moving his hand on top of yours. A grin creeps onto your face, moving your and his hand’s so they interlocked. His thumb caresses yours, sending little shivers into your body.

He moves closer to you, sandwiching Alice in the middle of you both. Her face was still pressed into you, her little hand clutching at the fabric of your tank top. His jaw rested above her head, trying desperately to touch foreheads with you, in which he succeeded. 

You could get used to this.. 

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn