#it's fun though i probably will need to slow down a bit to not tire myself out bfkshfkd

[orcelito]

I'm being like astoundingly social lately. Starting from Thursday last week, I saw my girlfriend, then spent time with family on Friday, then saw my girlfriend again on Saturday + some of her friends, then watched a movie and drew stuff with friends on Sunday, then had a session 0 for new dnd on Monday, then watched anime with a friend on Tuesday. Off day on Wednesday. Then on THURSDAY I hung out with my girlfriend, had a study session with friend group (with mixed success at the studying part), AND watched anime with a friend again. And then today, watched a different anime with a different friend.

And TOMORROW I'm going to a concert with family and a friend, Sunday I'm hanging out with my girlfriend, then Monday I've got dnd thing again (probably? Need to double check). And then potentially more hangouts to come.

It's insane. What is this new social me. I don't think I've ever hung out with this many different people in such a short time before.

[rae-writes]

Firstly, big fan of your poly mc x obey me brothers stuff. Secondly, I'm a bit curious about the dynamics between the brothers and mc (cough three-ways cough). Obviously Beel and Belphie wouldn't mind working together, but do you have any headcanons regarding the other brothers sharing?

threesome parings lets gooo! // nsfw, poly!mc (duh) // dateables and sides next maybe?? ;)

Obvious parings

Beel + Belphie; this one is the most obvious, but it works so well (Belphie likes to say they're the best tag-team). It can leave you reeling because you don't always know what's going on when they communicate with just their eyes. The favorite positions in this team are probably: you sitting on one's face while sucking the other off; riding one while the other fucks you from behind; spooning with one in front of you and one behind you

"Such a fuck-ing slut for us, huh? Our pretty little slut."

"o-oh..yeah, move your hips like that again, please..g'na c-cum-!"

"Please go faster, Mc..uh-huh, like that..a-ah! Yesyesyes, cumming! 'm cumming, oh fuck!"

"Your mouth is always so good...here, do Belphie next. Wanna prep you with my tongue."

"Mmm...slow down over there, Beel. We said we'd go slow...'s still early..'m tired." "Sorry, Belphie, but they feel so good..just listen to them. They need us." "..fine...we're going back to sleep after, though."

Lucifer + Satan; yes. These two. Their synchronized energy is almost on par with the twins (even if it's like a subtle competition the whole time) and they do everything so smoothly and seductively it makes you hot and bothered at a rate that should be illegal. The favorite positions for this team are probably: bent over something, one pounding you from the back while you suck off the other; being held up while they fuck you standing, one in front and one behind

"Come on, you can suck my cock better than that. Don't tell me he's made you dumb already?"

"No, no, no, moan my name. Yeah, that's it baby, let me hear you. Louder."

"I'm cumming- don't fucking move. I don't care if he's close, I'm filling you up first."

"You look so pretty, Mc...so. fucking. gorgeous. Doing so good for us, always do so good."

"Hold it. Yes, you can, and you will." "Don't be so mean to them, Lucifer. I think they've well earned the right to cum, don't you? I wanna feel it. Let them cum." "No. If you keep mouthing off, I'll take them away and you can finish yourself off. They hold it until I say so."

Mammon + Asmo; PARTY DUO! They're so wild and filthy and it's so fun to have both at the same time. Tag teaming you is one of the times they can bounce their energies off each other without arguments. The favorite positions of this team (though they're down to try any positions) are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; train style- fucking one [w/strap or dick] while the other fucks you; both squeezing themselves between your legs to give you oral

"Harder! Yeah, yeah, yeah- like that! Come on, Mammon, fuck them faster, I need them to give me more!"

"Ahh, fuck...you're so fuckin' good t'me, baby. Look so good, you're so damn perfect- look at me, look at me, baby...fuuuckkk.."

"Come on, hon! Spread those legs a biiit wider...don't be shy~ show us your pretty self..gotta give us room to work our magic!♡"

"Rock them hips over me, baby, yeahh..make me feel so fucking good. Takin both of us so well."

"Ooh, turn them around this way!" "No way! They faced you the last time, I wanna look at them this time." "That's so not fair- oh! Aw, just listen to that little whine...you need us that badly, Mc?" "Course they do, you kept us waitin so damn long. Don't worry, baby, we gotcha."

Not-so-common pairings

Asmo + Belphie; little odd pairing here, but Asmo cancels out Belphie's sloth (and even gets him riled up in a way only Azzy can) so once you experience it, it's like the shock of temperature play. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding Belphie while Azzy fucks you from behind; sitting on Bel's face while sucking Asmo off; getting fucked by one, head hanging off the side of the bed, while the other fucks your throat

"I knew I made the right idea picking this set out for you! You look absolutely gorgeous, Mc! Put on a little show for us?"

"Mmmnn...move faster..yeah, come on..ugh- please? Please, for me...y-yeah! Like that.."

"The way you move your tongue like that has me spinning, darling! A-ah..ah, ah-! I'm gonna cum!"

"No, no, no, look at me. At me, Mc, not at Asmo. I wanna see your face when you cum on my cock- take that pretty mouth of yours off his dick and scream my name."

"Come on, Belphie! You gotta get motivated! Just look at them, laying there so pretty for us!" "I can make them feel good without acting like you, you know." "Not unless you want me to steal them away~ Ooh, there's that competitive look in your eye!"

Lucifer + Levi; not necessarily an ‘odd’ pair, but definitely one we don’t see often. With the elder commanding the room and the younger so willing to follow along, it makes for a smooth combination (and an easy dynamic to settle into). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sucking off one while the other fucks you from behind; bending Levi over and fucking him while Luci bends you over the other and fucks you from behind; sitting on Levi’s face while sucking Lucifer off

"Ah, ah, ah. If I can hear you forming words, it means you're not sucking his cock properly. Doesn't Levi deserve some pleasure, too, hm? Go on, choke on it."

""Nghh! You f-fuck me s'good! Hnn...h-huh? Y-yes...yes, y'r fucking me dumb already- 'm your good boy t-though, please keep going!"

"So willing and obedient...you don't know what you really even do to me, do you?"

"Mmph...love the way you taste..ride my tongue faster."

"You can fuck them harder can't you? If their mouth isn't being forced onto my cock, it means you're slacking again." "S-s-sorry...they just- ah!- f-feel so good...my legs are..are already shaking." "Already? Well, if you aren't going to do it properly, let's just switch positions."

Mammon + Beel; again, not ‘odd’, but more so an overlooked- giving based- combo. They’re pretty much all about you, so it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes (but in the best way). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sitting on one’s face and giving head to the other; laying on your sides, each fucking you from the front and back; riding one while the other feels you up and plays with you

"Aw, why're ya cryin', baby? Yeah? Feels good? Sweet little thing...how bout we make ya feel even better?"

"No, no- don't run away, Mc..not done yet..you can take us both at the same time, know you can."

"Y'look s'good ridin' him like that. Can't wait for my turn, fuck, do you feel what you do to me? C'mon, baby, feel it...s'all for you."

"Make him cum again..I don't wanna stop tasting you yet."

"Beel! C'mon! I wanna taste 'em too! Stop hogging!" "But their taste.." "I know- but look at 'em. They're dying to taste you, too. So give me a turn, yeah? Let 'em get their fill." "Okay...just for you, Mc.."

Levi + Belphie; this one…is interesting. It’s easy to run things because of their natures, but this is the unofficial ‘drastic switch’ team— you never really know what you’re getting with them. The favorite positions for them are probably: giving both a handjob while they pleasure you; riding one and making out with the other; getting fucked from behind and fucking the other

"D-don't stop- hnn..! O-oh, u-uh-huh, make me cum again, don't care if 'm sensitive, wanna cum again for you!"

"Noo! Come back...mmph..mm...don't stop kissing me. Don't care- I'll move your hips for you, don't worry about Levi, just focus on me."

"You look so. fucking. good. bent over for me. Shh, don't listen to Belphie's bitching, he's getting fucked every time I slam my cock into you, so focus on me."

"Pull my hair. Yeah, like that- mm! Let me fuck you harder..please? He won't care, he can take it, I need to fuck you harder, Mc, please!"

"Quit hogging them! It's not fair!" "Is that all you ever say? It's not my fault you don't ask them to give you what you need. I do. So I'm going first." "H-hmph! Mc, Belphie's being mea- oh..oh your hand feels good..yeah stroke me like t-that.."

Other good mentions

Lucifer + Mammon; these two can communicate with just their eyes as well as the twins can, okay, they absolutely have your head spinning— and usually, the eldest is in charge of the whole thing but sometimes his favoritism shows and he lets Mammon take over. The favorite positions in this team are probably: each fucking you standing, from front and back; sucking one off while the other guides the pace; rough makeout session to see who gets to be in charge (and sometimes it’s you)

"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Mc? I can tell by the way you're already drooling for us...all dumb and pretty. All ours."

"Doin' such a good job, baby...uh-huh, bob your head a liiittle faster, like..this. Use your tongue too...hear the way he's moanin' for ya?"

"Don't make fun of me...is it so wrong that I want to feel your touch, too? I love the rake of your nails across my skin..indulge me, won't you?"

"I don't even care if 'm not in charge this time- just don't stop kissing me..haven't felt your lips on mine all day, please, fuck, don't ever stop kissing me."

"Well? What are you going to do now that you're in control this time, Mammon?" "Heh..overstimulate him, Mc. 'n don't stop until he's shooting blanks." "...what? Mc, don't you d-ah! Gr..damnit...fuck, it feels good.."

Mammon + Levi; they might act like it’s a big competition sometimes, but all they really care about is making you feel good, and when their energies are in sync, it’s crazy. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; getting fucked while fucking the other, spreading your legs wide open so they can both give you oral

"Don't be such a fuckin' sore loser, Levi. Just put your mouth on 'em and shut up..we don't getta talk till their legs are shakin."

"C-can't handle when you s-stare at me like that..m-makes me feel all hot a-and bothered..especially w-when he keeps fucking you e-even closer."

"Can take it- promise I can take it! Don't stop fucking me, need it s'bad!"

"Hah! Look at him! He's practcially in tears from just one orgasm..h-huh? W-w-what are you doing- no, d-don't! You're..going too fast..a-ahhh..c-cumming! N-no..'m not crying..'m not!"

"What'd you say?!" "You heard me! You're not that dumb, are you?" "You little- Mc? Oh, no, we're sorry baby...no, no, we didn't mean to forget you, we'll make it up. Here..put that tail of yours to good use, Levi." "Yeah..okay..we're sorry, Mc. That feel good?"

Satan + Asmo; this pairing can be so softly sweet and so passionately intense, it should come with a whiplash warning (but are you really complaining?). The favorite positions for this pair are probably: laying down while one fucks you from each side, getting fucked while making out with the other, mutual masturbation and getting edged while edging them

"Ah, ah, ah...not yet, love, don't cum yet. It'll feel better if we wait, yeah? Hold it for me...just a little longer."

"You look so sexy, all disheveled like this! Gets me all hot and bothered every time! Hehe! ♡"

"Arch your back for me- just like that. Makes it go even deeper, doesn't it? Just. like. this. Ohh, fuck, make that sound for me again- 'm gonna cum."

"Stroke me faster, baby, please! Uh-huh, uh-huh...mm! Cumming! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Calm down, Asmo. Mc's had a tiring day..let's take it slow and make them feel better, hm?" "Ooh, you're absolutely right! We'll take care of you, hon, you won't even have to lift a finger!" "Relax, love...we've got you."

[luveline]

I used to send you lots of requests before, but haven't sent you requests for a long time for exams, really missed it babe:) Can I ask for a Steve x reader kbd where our favourite Bethie catches reader at night staying up to do work, but we know how silent she is, so probably she doesn't tell reader about it? I just really wanna see one where reader overworks herself which not even Steve knows, but Beth finds out, really wanna see how her point of view changes on her mother. Hope this makes sense. Love you lots, Jade, and your pretty little kbd universe:)

love you !!!!!!! kbd — beth and dad!steve catch you working late at night, mom!reader. 1.4k

The day Steve takes the baby gates down is the best day of Bethie’s life. They’ve been up and down and up again, but now Dove is old enough to manage the stairs by herself without danger (just about) and Wren won’t be able to crawl for months, they’re back in the basement. 

Bethie can go downstairs whenever she wants. She doesn’t have to wait for Avery’s help on the funny top latch. 

She can tell already that Steve is sleeping, your bedroom door open, her father curled on his side with his hand stretched out across the empty side where you’d usually be snoring. The baby bassinet by Steve’s side has its own soft snoring, baby Wren fast asleep too. 

Beth has to find you, then. The bathroom door is closed (though she’s now allowed in there at night on account of needing to pee and her promise not to touch the washing machine again). Avery’s door is ajar, but when Bethie peeks inside, you’re not there either. Dove is half hanging off her toddler bed and you’re not there scooping her up, so where are you? 

Beth’s getting spooked, until she hears the sound of paper being shuffled downstairs. 

She holds the rungs of the stair bannister and sneaks carefully. Through the hallway and into the kitchen, she finds you at the dinner table with a frown on your lips so similar to her own. She loves looking like her mommy, even if the rest of her sisters look more like Steve. 

You’re working, she thinks. She’s not sure. It looks like you are. On rare occasions you’ve needed to finish things after dinner and her dad corrals them into the living room for TV, Beth has seen you crowded at the table with a pen and a weary expression. It can’t be much fun, work.

She isn’t sure how long she watches you. A weird feeling gathers in her chest, and she thinks about speaking up. You look upset at times. You bite your bottom lip like Avery does when she’s sad. 

It’s one of the first times Bethie's really looked at you and worried you weren’t happy.  

She doesn’t know why she goes back upstairs. She’s a bit scared, perhaps, to see you that way, without Steve by your side. 

He’s still sleeping, arm still looking for you in the dark. Bethie climbs up into bed with him and pushes her way under his arm, to which she is immediately pulled into his chest, squished and too warm. 

“Avery?” he mumbles. Then, a moment later. “No, that’s my Beth.” He peels one eye open, a smile taking slow form on his lips. “What’s wrong, babe?” 

“Mommy’s downstairs.” 

He peers past her head. “Oh. What for?”

“Don’t know. She looks sad.” 

“You think so?” He blinks. Bethie thinks her dad is the most love they can put into one person besides you, and she doesn’t usually look at him and see handsome or tired or anything, she just sees dad. Right now, though, he looks befuzzled. “Should we go see?” 

“Um. Well…” 

He kisses her forehead. “You tired, baby? You can sleep here if you want. Let me just go see if mommy’s okay. Go to sleep, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.” He kisses her cheek. “It’s okay, baby. Just sleep. It’s so late.” 

Steve tucks her in. She doesn’t look very tired, but she closes her eyes obligingly. 

Steve doesn’t know what you’re doing out of bed. He hadn’t felt you go. The only times he can remember you getting up in the middle of the night would be with pregnancy cravings, and you definitely aren’t pregnant, Wren’s still too small to support her own head. Plus, Steve’s sure he would’ve guessed. He knows you pretty well by now. 

You hear him coming down the stairs but you aren’t quick enough putting your things away to hide that you’re working. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice rough. “It’s one in the morning.” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” you lie, “figured I’d get this done.” 

Steve leans on the doorway and crosses his arms over his chest. “Really?” 

“Yeah, really.” 

You’re still lying. 

“I think Beth is upset,” he suggests.

“What for?” 

“She’s been down here. You didn’t hear her?” 

You flatten your pile of papers unhappily. “No, do I ever? She’s my mouse.” 

Steve abandons his interrogative pose to hug you. It hadn’t been working, anyways. He put his arm behind your neck and rests his cheek against your temple, the other arm across your chest, your elbow clutched in his hand. “Do you do this a lot?” he asks quietly. 

“Not much.” 

“Let me take you to bed,” he says. 

“Yeah, I just have to finish this.” 

“Wasn’t a question. Bed, now.” He rubs your arm. “Please.” 

Steve’s looked out for you since he met you, of course, but you’re the first person who taught him what it was like to be intrinsically taken care of, and he’s tried to pay that back for the last eight years. It’s hard to explain the incredible value of love, because it’s without transaction, completely paradoxical. He can’t pay it back. There’s nothing to be paid. But he can help you up the stairs, and he can worry for your sake about work and why you’re doing it in the middle of the night. 

“You need to sleep, babe, I mean it,” he says quietly, not wanting to disturb the other sleeping girls as you crest the last stairs onto the landing.

“I know. I’ll sleep. I’m sleeping.” 

He pinches your sides from behind.

“I love you,” he says, stopping you before you can get to the bedroom door. “Please don’t stay up late. We’ll make you more time if you need it in the daytime. I’ll make it for you.” 

You accept his promise and his kiss with a gluey smile. “Okay, H. No more staying up. I got it.” You drop your forehead to his shoulder quickly. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah. Well, go ahead, there’s a Beth in need of scrunching on your side of the bed.” And he needs to pass out. 

Steve crashes into his own side of the bed, and he gives Beth a good kiss, and then suddenly he’s sleeping before you’ve fully settled. 

You slide down onto your back. Bethie breathes too softly to be sleeping, her head off of the pillows and the legs of her pyjama pants ridden up her calves where she’s kicked her legs out of the blankets. 

“Bethie?” you whisper. 

“Mommy.” 

“Hey, sweet girl.” You peek at her. She’s peeking at you. “Daddy said you came downstairs. I wish you would’ve said hello.” 

“You…” She eyes your sleeve. “Busy.” 

“I’m never too busy for you if you need me. Are you okay? You don’t usually stay up this late.” 

“You don’t, too.” 

You slip your hand under her shoulders and lift her up onto the pillows. Careful, you pull the blanket from under her legs, smooth out her pants, and pull the blankets back over the both of you, enclosing you in a warm bubble. “Wanna cuddle with mommy?” you whisper. 

“Will dad be lonely?” 

“No, sweetheart. Are you lonely, sometimes, sleeping by yourself?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You might regret this, but Bethie’s your world. You hate thinking about her having such a horrible feeling and not telling you.

“If you’re ever lonely,” you begin gently, tracing the little remnants of your husband where they glow in the colour of her irises and her shy smile, “that’s what me and daddy are here for. If you’re lonely at bed time, you can come and cuddle with me. It doesn’t have to be all night long, just until the feeling goes away.” 

“Are you lonely when you’re in the kitchen?” she asks. 

Her whispers are sweet for how much effort she puts into them. Avery can’t whisper, not really, and Dove wouldn’t even try, but Bethie talks so quietly you strain to hear her under Steve’s harsher breathing. 

“I’m never lonely when I have you and your sisters and your daddy in the house. Just knowing you’re upstairs makes me feel better.” You kiss the tip of her nose with a whispered ‘mwah’. “But I’m best when you’re right here.”

“I don’t want you to be lonely.” She grins at you, eyes fluttering, “I love you, mom.” 

“I love you, too,” you whisper back.  

She curls onto her side to lay her arm over you. You bring her in for your cuddle, your knuckles brushing Steve’s arm. “Should we go to sleep now?” she asks. 

“Good idea, lovely girl.”

[mockerycrow]

I DON’T WANT THIS NIGHT TO END (Roommate!Gaz x GN!Reader)

roommate!gaz masterlist

summary; Kyle would do anything to relive these moments with you. 881 words.

authors note; this is EXTREMELY rusty writing in my opinion, but roommate!gaz deserves another chapter before i have to leave. i hope you guys enjoy anyway and let me know how this is. also, the car is not the convertible gaz owns!! i just needed a pic lmfao

[WARNINGS; fluff, pining, gaz is a half oblivious idiot, and a half “i don’t want to face my feelings like a man”.]

KYLE ADORES HIS convertible, but he certainly loves how you look in his convertible more. You’ve both fallen into an accidental routine of taking late night drives almost every night you’re together whilst he’s on leave. Sometimes, all you get as a warning that he’s home is when he sends you a text—sometimes you want to ask him if he even considers spending his leave anywhere else, but you’re not sure if you want to direct his attention away from you.

He knows his eyes should be glued to the road. Kyle knows the rules of the road intimately, especially due to his job and what he has to do—stuff you would consider reckless behavior. But may whoever is above forgive him for his eyes wandering because the big ol’ grin on your face with the wind rustling your clothes and brushing against your face is a picture he would pay money to be framed.

Kyle keeps glancing between you and the dark road ahead, knowing how dangerous it is to look off the road, but holy shit.

“I love this song.” You murmur, reaching forward to turn his stereo up louder. You tighten the seat belt and raise your arms up, feeling the wind thread between your fingers and feel it beat against your face. The feeling reminds you of where you are���with your best friend in his convertible, riding down some random dirt road. “Do you even know where we are?” You muse, glancing over at Kyle. However, you’re not worried. You never are. You don’t doubt your safety with him for a second.

Kyle hums and glances around; honestly, he doesn’t. It’s a shitty dirt road with trees. The road probably has pebbles and sizable rocks, judging by how the car jerks around a bit, but the price of a tire replacement is the least of Kyle’s worries. “No,” Kyle shouts over the music, glancing between the road ahead and you. “But we’re safe, yeah?”

You glance around, your eyes darting around the darkness. You’re sure if you were alone or with anybody else but Kyle, you wouldn’t be agreeing, but you find yourself nodding. “Yeah.” You echo him with a smile, mumbling the lyrics to the song on the stereo. Your arms lower, one of them hanging out the side of your car door, the other resting comfortably against your own body with your fingers tapping your knee to the beat.

“I do wonder how we will get home, though?” You question, your voice just loud enough over the music. Kyle can hear the amusement in your tone. He huffs as his eyes struggle to stay on the dirt road ahead of you two, his fingers tightening on his steering wheel. “GPS, sweets.” Kyle shouts with a snort. “Is this a marked road, though?” You respond—which makes Kyle go quiet for a moment because goddamn it, why do you have to be so smart?

Can’t you see he doesn’t want this to end?

“True,” Kyle eventually utters out loud, nearly drowned out by the low rumbling of the music. There’s a forming ball in the base of his throat, an anxious feeling that remains stuck. He can’t help but let his eyes drift from the dirt road and trees to you—and God, every glance is like the first time. You’re grinning like an idiot and you’re having so much fun doing something relatively mundane with him. And you’ll never know how much that means to him.

Kyle’s fingers twitch with want—but he looks back to the road and sighs, taking a quick glance at the clock on his dash. It’s late, he knows he should slow down and find a way home. It’s getting a bit cold, and he can feel the tiredness seeping into himself. He can tell you’re beginning to feel it, too.

The ball in Kyle’s throat lodges itself in his chest instead, right near where his heart remains. He isn’t too sure what to make of it. How can he even consider driving home when you’re glowing in the faint light of the dash, of the moon? He is never sure when he’ll get another moment like this with you.

Kyle’s eyes flicker to his gas tank meter; he has a pretty good amount left. Without thinking, he utters—“Let’s stay up all night.”

His eyes glance to you, and you’re looking back at him with a soft, closed lip smile, contemplating his suggestion. You eventually murmur, “It’s 3:35, Kyle. Are you sure? You’ve been quite tired since you’ve come home.”

His chest tightens—home?—“I’m sure.” He responds with a firm tone, shrugging as he glances back to the road ahead of him. Kyle forces himself to relax, one hand on the wheel and his other arm hangs out the side of the car, mirroring you in a way. “Why not? We have the whole night and a full tank, hm sweets?” You can’t help the laugh, turning down the music a bit.

“I get to choose the music.” You negotiate, reaching for his phone, but Kyle’s already handing it to you without looking. “Always.” He responds in a soft manner, your fingertips brushing against each other. Kyle glances at the dash clock again; 3:37.

Please don’t let this night end.

🏷️; @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @ornateorchid @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @talooolalolla @sstormyskyess @spicyspicyliving @nyushkawritesstuff @tipsykeen

this taglist is my overall taglist from here. if you are wrongly tagged or don’t want to be tagged anymore, let me know! no hard feelings.

[f1smutwriter]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫| 𝐌𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 (𝐃𝐑𝟑)

Protective!Daniel x innocent!reader

Summary: He wanted to claim her as his, so what other way then taking her virginity.

Warnings: SMUT! fingering, clit rubbing, praise (just pure praise), unprotected sex (I think the fuck not sit down), riding, pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl), innocent dirty talk, neck kissing, virginity loss, age gap, talking about sex toys, fluff, and probably way more.

Notes: I know guys I’m a bit late but don’t worry I’m gonna try to cram in two today so I can we on track. I hope you guys like it and again if you want like supernatural things just request them this is a safe space. HAPPY OCTOBER LOVEYS

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

I was laying down on the couch while my head being in Daniel's lap. We had both had a long and tiring day so we just wanted to relax and be calm. We've been together for 1 and a half years now and I'm a virgin. Yup I'm a virgin and my boyfriend is one of the most hottest F1 guys known on the list, especially with that Australian accent. I've been wanting him to take it but it's scary. So here I am today getting ready to ask my boyfriend to fuck me into next week.

I hummed softly as he scratched my head while we were watching tv. "Having fun" He teased me gently while he patted my head causing me to nod a little bit too tired to talk. My eyes were close wanting to go to sleep in his lap. I felt him rub my lower back massaging it making me whimper slightly at the feeling of his hands. “S’nice” I whispered against him while I laid out more for him.

I didn’t see the little smirk he had on his face as the noises I was making. He went lower and lower inch by inch like if he was trying to see how far he could go, but I just let him getting a massage out of it. He was at my lower back just above my butt before placing his hands on it.

“I’d say I’m have a lot of fun” he teased rubbing my butt gently again getting lower and lower. “May I touch you” he whispered in my ear feeling myself whimper without a second thought. All I did was nod having no strength to speak to flustered about the whole interactions.

He moved his hand from my butt to my cunt that was now soaking through my panties. He rubbed gently closing my eyes at the slightest friction. “Sshh darling let me touch you” he whispered in that delicious accent I loved.

He flipped me over harshly gasping at the slight roughness, he chuckled at my shocked face before kissing me. I kiss back wrapping my arms around his neck, his hand on my neck slightly slipping his tongue into my mouth.

I whined at the sensation of his tongue on mine. He pulled away taking my bottom lip with him gently biting it. “Take this off” he whispered pointing to the pajama pants he lent me to sleep in for the night. I did what I was told and took them off in one swift motion, he groaned at the sight of my soaked panties.

He gently rubbed my clit through the soak fabric that was sticking against my cunt. I closed my eyes at the feeling him being the first to touch me like this.

“Feels good huh. Imagine me touching this beautiful fucking pussy all the time” he growled gently in my ear before continuing. “Better hold on, because when I start I don’t stop” he cautioned with that scary smirk he had.

He ripped my panties looking at my untouched pussy before rubbing my clit gently. “Fuck so wet” he whispered to himself having the urge to claim me as his even though I already was. He rubbed faster wanting, no needing to hear sounds coming from my lips.

I moaned gently closing my eyes trusting him with my full body and pleasure. “Please” I muttered out needing a bit more then the slow pace he was giving me, he listened to my pleas moving his fingers faster on my clit with a bit more pressure. A moaned ripped from my throat gripping his arm as he rubs it faster. “Yeah you like that, like when I rub your little clit” he grunted making me nod in pure and utter pleasure.

He gently slipped a finger in me, letting out a groan from my tight wall gripping his finger like it were made for him. “If it feels this good with just my finger how do you think it’d will feel with my cock. Do you think it’ll feel just as good, or better” he says to me with a teasing smirk fingering me open so I could fit his cock. He pushed a second finger causing me to hiss at the slight burn I felt from the stretch, slowly turning into pleasure that I craved.

“Daniel s-something fe-els weird I-i-n my stomach” I moaned in full blown tears from the overwhelming feeling I was experiencing. He curled his fingers inside me touching my g-spot perfectly, I screamed slightly crying in pleasure. “Gonna” I warned him before cumming all over his thick finger clenching so tight around them. “Sshh did so good” he whispered in my ear rubbing my back to help me through the waves of my orgasm.

He put his two fingers into his mouth sucking off all the juices I left behind on them. “Wish I could taste you, but not today I can’t wait any longer” he whispered pulling off his pants showing his hard boner. “Are you sure this is still okay” he asked to make sure I was fine with it. All I did was not still hazy from the intense orgasm. He palmed himself before taking his cock out of his boxers stroking gently. He groaned at the slight relief that he felt. “Come here” he whispered patting his lap for me to sit on.

“I’m gonna have you ride me, so that means you’re taking off of it okay” he told me stroking my hair to make sure I was comfortable with it. “Okay” I whispered a bit nervous for the moment we’re having right now. He lifted me up gently the tip of his cock against my hole sucking it in slightly. He sunk me down on it both of us groaning in unison. “Fuck your so fucking tight” he moaned throwing his head back into the back of the couch. “Bounce baby” he groaned holding my hips moving me up and down his cock, making me gasp loudly feeling so full.

He picked up his pace bucking his hips upward hitting all the spots I never knew existed. He held my tits while I found my pace teasing my nipples by pinching them between his pointer and middle finger. I moaned throwing my head back feeling his tip hitting my g-spot perfectly like he was made for my aching cunt. “Such a good girl. Knowing how to bounce on my big cock huh” he grumbled into my ear as I moaned louder and louder feeling a tight sensation in my stomach.

“Gonna cum huh, I feel it I feel you clenching” he groaned picking up my pace faster and faster. I moaned hiding in his neck going faster so close to the point where I was about to pass out. “Cum” he said and that’s what pushed me over the edge so far that i collapsed on top of him lifeless for a few minutes. He came deep inside me filling me up with his hot white seed. I whimpered in his neck exhausted and satisfied from the moment we just had. “I love you so much pretty girl so much” he mumbled in my neck rubbing my neck to calm me down.

“I love you to s’much” I say lowly to tired to even speak loudly for him to hear but he knew he knew just loved him more then life itself. “Good night my little princess” he whispered kissing my head before letting me sleep in his arms. The rest of that night we just cuddled and finished our movie we were so distracted to watch earlier.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Notes: Please forgive me I promise I’m trying to post as much as I can for my kinktober, but my teachers keep giving me test on test but I promise they’re coming soon. I hope you guys enjoyed because way more are coming soon. Bye loveys see you soon

[junkissed]

squeaky clean

member — bf!seungcheol x bf!mingyu x reader genre — smut, fluff/comfort, poly relationship (see warnings!) word count — 2.7k synopsis — after a long day, a nice relaxing bubble bath is exactly what you need, and your boyfriends are more than willing to help you unwind. good thing your bathtub is big enough for three. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, bathtub sex (this is fake. fiction. made up. do NOT have sex in soapy water), slight mxm (cheol gives gyu a handjob), kissing (reader x cheol & reader x gyu only, no cheol x gyu) nicknames (pretty girl, angel, baby, sweetheart, etc. you know the drill; gyu is called puppy once or twice but not in a pet play way), soft dom!cheol, gyu & reader are mainly sub leaning, lots of dirty talk & praise, a little bit of voyeurism from cheol but it's soft (you'll see) notes — this is a poly fic! meaning all three of them are in a relationship, meaning all three of them are having sex, meaning yes there is a little bit of mxm in this. i am in no way trying to ship them or imply anything about them, this is just for fun and because i believe poly relationships also deserve representation in fanfics. if you're not comfortable with that please feel free to skip this fic! you are the one responsible for what you choose to read, and i encourage you to read the warnings first so you have a sense of what happens. i still do not write solely mxm and i probably won't do fics like this often; this is very different from my usual content but i'm branching out a bit and trying new things!! feedback, asks, and reblogs are always super super appreciated :) (also ps this is a special present for @duhnova and @onlymingyus i hope you like it !!)

when mingyu and seungcheol get home from work, they're surprised to find you laying across the couch, arms hanging over the side and your face smashed against a pillow.

immediately cheol walks over and sits on the couch beside you, putting the back of his hand against your forehead with worry. "baby, what's wrong? are you feeling sick?"

"just tired," you sigh. "i think i need a nap, maybe." he starts to stand up, offering to get the thermometer to take your temperature and make sure you don’t have a fever, and he pouts when you tell him you’re not sick.

"have you showered yet? i'll make dinner," mingyu offers, already slipping his jacket off and starting for the kitchen. 

"no, not yet." you sit up and wince, rubbing your neck. "i'll have to do it in the morning."

"don't you have a meeting tomorrow morning, though?"

you groan, remembering that your schedule tomorrow will be just as busy, if not more, than today. "then i'll wake up extra early, i guess."

cheol glances at mingyu, exchanging a look with his partner. "why don't you take a bath?" he suggests after a pause. "we'll get it all ready for you so you don't have to worry about a thing. you can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath, and you'll sleep so good afterwards."

"mm, that does sound nice," you concede, leaning back against the back of the couch. "alright, fine."

cheol stands up, putting his hand on your shoulder. “we’ll let you know when everything’s ready. for now, you just sit and relax.” you nod, and he walks away out of your view and waves his hand at mingyu, motioning for him to follow him to the bathroom.

a while later you hear your name being called, and you pull yourself off of the couch and follow the sound of mingyu's voice down the hall.

when you walk in, cheol is sitting on the edge of the bathtub and mingyu stands at the sink. as promised, the tub is filled with thick bubbles, the sweet scent of vanilla and peach soap filling the room.

"all ready for you," mingyu says with a grin, and as you step towards him to kiss him he wraps his arms around you, drawing you closer as he deepens the kiss. you sigh against him and relax into his hold for a moment, letting him hold you up. it's a soft, slow moment, and when you finally break apart it leaves your insides feeling warm.

as you slide your shorts down to your ankles, you can almost see the bulge in his jeans that he casually tries to hide with his hands, and your stomach flutters and your cheeks warm at the sight. but before you can say anything about it cheol motions you to come closer, pointing at the bathtub. "come make sure the water's the right temperature," he says, directed at you though his eyes are locked with mingyu's behind you, a wordless conversation between them.

you cross the room, feeling every bit as exposed as you are and suddenly very aware of the fact that you're the only one in the room that's half naked. 

dipping your hand into the water, you instinctively shudder at the warmth on your fingertips. it's perfect, as usual, and you pull your hand out, wiping the wetness on your bare leg. "just right," you say, and he smiles, leaning over from the edge of the tub to kiss you.

out of nowhere it crosses your mind that seungcheol must be able to taste mingyu on your lips, and you try to hold back a moan at the thought but it escapes you too quickly, a strangled breath against his mouth that's too quiet for mingyu to have heard but more than loud enough for cheol to notice.

you pull away, about to pretend that didn't happen, but the look on your boyfriend's face means you aren't getting out of this that easily. cheol raises his eyebrows and you turn your head to glance at mingyu, who is still leaning against the counter, trying very hard to be casual and draw attention away from his obvious erection.

"it's okay, angel," cheol whispers, nodding his head over at mingyu. "go ask him. i know you need something, don't you, my pretty girl?"

you stay quiet but nod, and with a smile cheol kisses you once more before you turn and walk back over to mingyu. you tuck your arms behind his back, holding him against your body. "will you… join me, gyu?" you ask, looking up at him through your lashes as you tug at the hem of his shirt.

he attempts to stifle a groan, his hands ghosting just inches above your bare back as if he's holding himself back from touching without your permission. "i’d like that," he says finally, trying not to appear too eager, though his body language speaks volumes.

"yes, please," you answer, then turn to look behind you again. "but only if cheollie joins us, too."

cheol laughs, already pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor with your pile of clothes. "fine by me."

with the two of them following close behind, you finally strip out of the last of your clothes, leaving your bra and panties at the foot of the tub as you climb into the water. as soon as your skin dips beneath the bubbly surface you let out a long sigh, sliding lower and lower until your whole body is submerged up to your neck.

it’s only been a few seconds since you’ve gotten in the bath, but you can already feel the stress melting away. but as you watch mingyu walking towards you, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to get out of his pants, you’re reminded that the heat between your legs isn’t just from the water temperature.

at your nod mingyu climbs in after you, soapy water sploshing out of the tub as he sinks down in front of you. his long legs get stuck for a second, but he soon adjusts so he’s straddling you, bent knees poking up above the layer of bubbles.

making sure everything in the house was big enough for three was one of seungcheol’s priorities back when you’d moved in together, and as he watches mingyu giggle and splash water at you, he’s glad he decided on the extra large bathtub, too.

he waits a moment before he joins the two of you, studying the way you sit with gyu and the smiles that light up both of your faces. you’re the two most important people in his life, and he loves watching you interact with each other, the sweetness bubbling up more than any bath soap could ever do.

but cheol’s thoughts are quickly interrupted when your whispered talk with mingyu suddenly turns into heated kisses, the sound of your airy moans drawing his attention to the soap suds running down your chest. leaning forward, mingyu takes one of your breasts into mouth and you sigh, leaning against the edge of the tub and arching your back into him. 

seungcheol gently pushes you to sit up as he finally gets into the tub behind you, and you rest your back against his chest as mingyu continues to suck at your breasts. you can feel cheol's hard cock pressed against your ass, but you don't think about it for more than a few seconds because immediately one of his hands slides around your hips, trailing down your body beneath the bubbly surface until his fingers find your clit, making you jump as your breath catches in your throat. his other hand curls around your chest, squeezing your other breast in his palm.

you wiggle around in their grasp, almost overwhelmed by all the attention from your boyfriends, but the feeling is so comfortable that you can't help but relax back into the water, giving up your control. it doesn’t happen too often, but the nights when the both of them are focused on pampering you are some of your favorite, allowing you to shut your brain off for a while they take the lead.

mingyu coos as you close your eyes, rolling your head back against seungcheol's shoulder. "that's it, sweetheart." 

"let us take care of you, pretty girl," cheol adds, twisting your nipple between his fingers and drawing a soft moan from your lips. 

cheol moves his fingers from your clit to spread your folds apart, and when he finally inserts his finger you can already feel yourself clenching down around him. you whimper out his name, reaching out to grab onto mingyu's shoulders as he begins to curl the tip of his finger just right against your walls. mingyu sits up, changing his position only so he can move his teeth up your neck, grazing them against every inch of skin and biting and sucking to make sure you're completely marked up.

you're sure your nails must be leaving marks on mingyu's skin as well, from how tightly you're gripping onto his broad shoulders, but if he notices he doesn't say anything; he just continues moving his mouth up and down your neck and collarbones, little whines escaping him all the while.

"you want him or me tonight, baby?" cheol asks, his fingers still stroking your clit. "or both of us? whatever you want, we're all about you tonight."

absently mingyu starts to grind down on your leg, rocking his hips back and forth along your thigh and it distracts you from whatever you were about to answer. "gyu, first…" you moan, your hands sliding down his soapy body to grab at his hips. "please—"

"then gyu it is, baby," seungcheol whispers affirmatively, his cheek pressed against yours as he tucks your wet hair behind your ear. "feel how hard he is for us? for you? he's all yours tonight, angel, tell him what you need."

"need you to– fuck me, gyu," you gasp out, trying and failing to stop his hips from moving. all three of you are more than familiar with how sensitive he is, and it wouldn't take much for him to cum just from grinding on your leg and whimpering like a needy puppy, but he's too strong for you to be able to stop him. "gyu, please, want you inside."

"listen to how prettily she begs for you, puppy," cheol says, and he moves his fingers out of you to rest on mingyu's thigh as you whine at the loss. "better not leave her empty for long, you know how bratty she gets…"

normally you would have something bratty to say in response, but you're so exhausted you don't have it in you to talk back. "please, need you, gyu," you repeat pitifully, already so gone that you can't think of anything you want more than to be stuffed full of cock and fucked into oblivion.

at your words mingyu stops moving his hips with a groan, leaning forward to smash his lips against yours. you can vaguely feel cheol kissing at the side of your temple, but mingyu's ferocity and passion makes it hard to think about anything except how good it feels to have his tongue in your mouth, teeth clacking together with the force of his kisses.

impatiently you slide your hands down from mingyu's waist, wrapping your fingers around his girthy cock. he groans into your mouth, pulling away sharply to catch his breath as you begin to line up the tip with your hole, eager to feel his cock hug your walls.

but before you can push him inside you, you feel cheol's hand on top of yours, gently prying your fingers away. beneath the water he runs his fingers along the length of mingyu's cock, and the other man shivers at the feeling. your hands were so small compared to cheol's, and his touch was much rougher than your gentle grip.

slowly at first seungcheol begins to move his hand up and down, gradually beginning to increase his pace in time with mingyu's panted breaths. 

you can barely keep up with what's happening in the water just inches above your cunt, too intently focused on watching the way mingyu's face contorts in pleasure with each skilled flick of cheol's wrist. in fact you don't even mind watching and waiting, the intimate act between them more than enough to satisfy you.

but you can tell mingyu is getting close by the way his eyes squeeze shut and his shoulders tense up, and you know cheol can tell, too, because he slowly loosens his grip, making mingyu whine in frustration.

"don't forget about our little angel, gyu," cheol hums, letting go completely except for a single finger that he traces across the thick vein along the top of mingyu’s cock.

he groans but leans forward to begin kissing your neck again, his lips trailing along your jaw as you thread your fingers through his wet hair.

with mingyu’s cock still in his grasp, cheol angles him at your entrance, and after running the tip through your folds a few times to tease you he finally helps the man push into you, guiding him inch by inch into your throbbing cunt.

all you can do is moan and hold on to anything you can, one hand still in mingyu’s hair and the other gripping cheol’s thigh behind you for support. water pours over the side of the tub as mingyu begins to rock his hips into you, arms and hands and legs spread out in a tangled mess everywhere.

for a moment you start to worry about how you’ll ever be able to clean up the bathroom after this, but the thought is quickly pushed to the back of your mind when you feel cheol’s fingers on your clit once again.

“i know you’re close, baby.” you hear cheol’s low voice speaking into your ear, and your hips jerk at his tone. “so tight and so perfect for our mingyu, making him feel so good. so sweet for us, so perfect…”

with the way cheol’s mumbling praises you would almost have thought he’s the one getting fucked right now, but his words pass right through you, too focused on the sensation building in your core to process what he’s saying.

seconds later you cum with a stifled cry, your eyes wrenched shut as the men on either side of you continue to work you through your orgasm. two pairs of strong arms sandwich you against their chests, the familiar weight that surrounds you a grounding feeling.

the rest of the bath passes by in a haze after mingyu and cheol get out of the tub, leaving you to soak for a little longer and have some time to rest. though the water has already started to go cold and most of the bubbles are long gone, it’s still a very pleasant bath, and by the end of it you’re completely relaxed and ready for a nap.

when you decide you’re done for the night, mingyu lifts you out of the tub and wraps a towel around your shoulders as cheol pulls the plug, the remains of the bath water swirling down the drain with a quiet slurp. both of them help you dry off, exchanging gentle kisses and soft touches until you’re tucked into bed wearing a fresh set of pajamas.

cheol helps you pull the covers up to your chin, the sheets feeling cozy and comfortable against your clean skin. he sits at the edge of the bed, running his hand along your forehead in soothing motions. 

“you feel better now, baby?” he hums. “less stressed?”

“mhm. thank you, cheollie,” you reply, letting your eyes fall shut as your tiredness from the day starts to catch up with you. “and mingyu, too. i love you both.”

cheol smiles, leaning over to kiss your forehead as he stands up. “we love you, too.”

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[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I absolutely adore you and your writing, you truly have a gift!

Can I please request something with James Potter where readers anxiety is really bad and is super emotional cause pms and is just kinda struggling and needs to be dealt with the most gently? Totally not projecting much at all lol 😬😫🤣

Totally no pressure if you don’t feel up to it! I love reading anything you write ❤️❤️

Hi lovely, thanks so much!!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 772 words

“Here y’go, love.” James presses a mug’s handle into your hands, and you take it quickly once you realize he’s holding the hot sides. 

“James!” you hiss, chiding. “You’re going to burn yourself.”

Only James Potter could make a shrug seem fond. He sits down beside you on the couch, hand resting on your thigh, and the knee you hadn’t realized you’d been jiggling slows to a stop. 

“What’s eating you?” he asks mildly, rubbing you from knee to hip as he sips his tea, quietly hinting for you to do so as well. 

You sigh, blowing on your tea before raising it to your lips. “Nothing so important I should be this stressed about it,” you say bitterly. “It’s just PMS.” 

You hate how your hormones mess with you around this time of the month. It makes it feel like you can’t trust yourself, because you’re never sure if the emotions you’re experiencing are valid or amplified by your body’s punishing cycle. Your already oversensitive nerves go into overdrive, and you feel three times as susceptible to bouts of rage or crying, though which one it’ll be is as good as a coin toss. Everything is just more, and all the time, and it sucks. 

James makes a sad puppy sound. “Yeah? Are you hurting, honey?” 

“Not really.” You have a headache, but that’s probably more due to your anxiety than anything else. 

“Well, why don’t you try telling me what’s bothering you,” James suggests. “Even if you think it’s not a big deal, maybe I can help.” 

You sigh again, a heaving, dramatic exhale. “Macy’s having a birthday party this weekend.” 

That surprises a smile out of James, and he tilts his head to look at you bemusedly. “Oh, how nefarious! Shall we curse her?” 

You give him a look that says not funny, even as your own lips curl up slightly. James smothers his grin as best he can (which is to say, not very well), nodding at you seriously to continue. 

“I just—” you heave another sigh, and James’ hand redoubles its efforts on your leg, squeezing the fatty inner part encouragingly. “I’m not going to know anyone there, and I’m going to have to go straight after work on Friday, and she and her friends always stay out so much later than I want to. I just know I’m going to be exhausted.” 

“Okay.” James is nodding, still looking slightly confused. “So don’t go.” 

“But it’s her birthday,” you say, the last syllable taking an unexpected turn into whiny territory as your eyes grow wet. “I don’t have an excuse to miss it and I’ll be the worst friend in the world if I do.” 

“Sweetheart, hey.” James’ voice takes on a slight panicked edge due to the appearance of tears, though you can tell he’s trying to be soothing. His hand abandons your leg to snake around your waist, scrubbing up and down your side. “Honey, you’re a great friend. You’re just looking out for yourself a little bit,” he promises, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s think about who’s going to be more upset, alright? If you miss it, Macy might be a bit sad you didn’t come, but she’s still got all of her other friends who don’t know you anyway, and the party will probably go on as it would have. But if you go, you’ll have to hurry there straight after work, you might be too tired to be much fun, and you could end up miserable the whole night. Sound right?” You nod wretchedly, and he hums into your hair. “So just miss this one, and make it up to her with lunch or something another time, yeah?” At your hesitation, he adds, “You have plans Friday night, you can’t make it.” 

You look up at James. “I don’t have plans, though. I don’t want to lie to her.” 

“Sure you do, sweetheart,” he contradicts you, grinning. “You have plans with me, duh. You’ve only been friends with Macy for a couple months, right?” You nod. “Well then sorry, Macy, but I’m pulling rank.” You laugh, and James swoops down to kiss at your dimple when it appears. “I need my girl for Friday night. She’s pre-engaged.” 

James can never stop kissing once he’s gotten started, and you hide your cheek from him in his own chest, wrapping your arms around his waist in an awkward sort of hug. “Thanks, Jamie.” 

You can still hear the smile in his voice. “Anytime, my love. Now, since that’s been resolved, do you think you can drink your tea? It’s gonna get cold.”

[ronearoundblindly]

No pressure at all! But I had an idea for your ‘how would the Cevans characters react’ I’ve loved every installment of this so far 🥰🖤🥰

How would they react if reader was having an off day and for some reason couldn’t get off so she faked having an orgasm in bed.

Is this because of @cevansbrat0007's Ari fic? (which is great, go read that, but I feel like I've seen a surge in this trope since) Because, see, this is very interesting to me, and I really hope you've read other stuff of mine before, nonnie. I don't write everybody as a perfect gentleman...

Warnings for various levels of spice since we are, in fact, talking about orgasms, duh! MINORS DNI. See my Light Masterlist for all-age friendly fics!

James Mace

Ok, I'm not sure it would get so far as for you to actually fake it. Mace is a slow, steady, deep kind of lover. He'd realize you aren't getting anywhere or building up to it pretty quickly, all things considered, and he would make you talk to him while he continues foreplay/touching you. Pretty sure he just wants to be attached to you in some way while you have time together...

Curtis Everett

Curtis gets very intense when he senses you're holding something back, like predatorily intense. Uses his body to cage you in, constant eye contact, probably even pinching/tickling you until you confess.

He doubles down. You fake one; Curtis forces two out of you in return.

Jimmy Dobyne

Shockingly, Jimmy would be super upset if you faked an orgasm with him. (There is one caveat to this: IF HE FINDS OUT.) Jimmy is a straight-forward guy who doesn't enjoy dating games. You aren't into sex right now? Fucking say something. He's horrified by the idea you would just lay there and take it or whatever because what the fuck???

He's got simple rules. If you don't like something, tell him because he can handle himself for one night/a little while or he'll happily do something different. If you never want something he does, then you two shouldn't be together. That's it.

Sex is an important aspect of your relationship, but it ain't the whole thing. Tell him to piss off, or ask for a quiet night of holding each other. Do not lie, cheat, or steal. You lied about being satisfied, you cheated him out of the chance to actually give you what you needed, and you stole his confidence that he recognizes your body's signals. Yes, Jimmy sorta makes it about him, but that's mostly because he feels helpless and a little dirty.

Johnny Storm

Existential CRISIS.

Have you ever faked it with him before? Have other women faked it with him?? Is this a common thing??? Hot shot goes into full-meltdown mode, and unsurprisingly, you end up kinda lost in the narrative there, soothing him instead of yourself.

Oddly enough, you two do end up closer from the experience though because Johnny realizes that he very much values trust and honesty, whereas before he would have thought plain ol' fun the most important thing...

Jake Jensen

Jakey, my beloved, clueless noob... He doesn't really know what to do. He asks a lot of questions. What's wrong? What can he do? What do you want in this moment? Should he have done it differently? Do you need more? Something else? Was it him?

For a dozen times after, he'll ask if that one was real or fake. He's touchy about it, but 90% of his concern is just that you are actually happy. He puts in quite a bit of extra effort for a while after, too.

Lloyd Hansen

I am a broken record when it comes to Lloyd: he does not care. At best, he'd be torturing you to come for his own pleasure. At worst, well, he's there to get off. You don't need to.

If by some magical scenario Lloyd does give a fuck about you or your feelings, I think he'd expect you to take what you needed from him to climax. Otherwise, it's not really his problem.

Ari Levinson

Depends on his own mood for sure. When Ari is stressed or tired, he tends to turn inward and focus on his own feelings, not purposefully ignoring you but still. It reads like he didn't/doesn't notice and just continues on with sleep/the normal routine. If he's got the emotional, energy bandwidth to talk it out with you, he absolutely will. Don't take any offense. Sometimes he's muddling through like you.

Ransom Drysdale

Has no idea. Probably doesn't want to have an idea. Unless it becomes a regular problem, he's just gonna let it slide. He won't bring it up if you don't.

Steve Rogers

On the surface, Steve looks concerned and listens to your reasons for faking, but honestly, on the inside, he hates the idea that you felt the need to. Steve will easily forego sex in favor of literally anything you want to do, so to let it get all the way to love-making and apparently suffering through till he's finished? It makes him a bit sick. He'll get more more restrained and cautious in future, all for want of you never faking again.

Bucky Barnes

Feels like a huge failure as a partner. Spends a good portion of the conversation having you promise to communicate with him better from now on. This is from a man who has so many things going on in his mind that Bucky is often derailed from pleasure/enjoyment during sex. He's just very triggered by the darndest things, and you've been so understanding. Why can't he be that for you, too?

Thank you for asking!

A/N: I know these are a bit short. Let me know if there's one or more you'd like expanded on, but thank you for reading!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would...' Asks; Ko-Fi]

[tarot-bimbo]

݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Pick a pile .݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️

First Halloween with your future spouse?

♡♱ Fangs ♱♡

So my pile of vampires , I think your first Halloween with your future spouse you will be sick. You had been overworking yourself too much before this day has come and when it finally did you are gonna be too sick to even do anything. I do see you and your future spouse still celebrating though even if it means just sitting in the house together watching scary movies. I don’t think they are even a big fan maybe you aren’t either but I am getting he or she might find it too kiddish to celebrate the holiday or maybe you. Spirt is telling you take a chill pill you will succeed your dreams but not by overworking yourself to the point you get sick.You need a healthy balance of work and play remember in the shinning how all work and no play made jack a dull boy? Just kidding but seriously take your health seriously other than that I see you two having a very chill and laid back night. Y’all honestly might prefer to stay in and cuddle while watching movies and eating popcorn y’all might not even watch a scary movie. During the month of October I see you two doing little things like trying all the new Halloween edition food or going to spirt Halloween for a little date. For some of you not all you wear glasses I see you having like a Halloween pair of glasses that look witchy and stuff. You might actually buy a lot of witch stuff or be draw to it or even have a pet cat. It’s giving an old couple tho. He/she might even be older and more mature and that’s why they don’t celebrate a lot. You could even dress up a little like Halloween themed pajamas. I thought of coraline when I said that I saw her little orange pajamas.

(I hope this resonates with you🦇)

☾⋆Moon ⋆☽︎

Hi my moon watchers, I see your first Halloween with your future spouse being fun but maybe a bit too much? Like I see you going to a gathering with friends and family but I think you never met his/her family and you are nervous when I said that I thought about the little anxiety character from inside out2 and how nervous they looked you could possibly even have an anxiety attack but I do see you having fun once you calm yourself down. I see you enjoying yourself actually once you do calm down and get loose you might even have a Jell-O shot or something I see liquor might calm you a bit. Over all though you and your future spouse will have fun and I see the people you are celebrating with also enjoying themselves and your company. You guys will have little competitions and you are a very creative person I see so you have a high chance of winning at least one game. You could even want kids or something and I see you either having a baby or pregnant around this time period. Your energy feels young and dumb honestly not even being rude you could probably zone out a lot or be a little air headed. You could be listening to music this night dancing away. It could actually just also be like a regular little Halloween party with friends or like a college party I hear.

(I hope this resonates with you🌙)

🐺 ⋆° Wolf ⋆° 🐺

Hi my Nightwalkers, your pile is different I am picking up that you two will actually meet on Halloween, you could be moving actually or just taking a vacation somewhere but whatever the case is you are definitely on the move. You could also be feeling tired after this I started feeling really tired and slow like I am rushing now to finish this to sleep ya know? I see you two meeting on the street like bumping into each other just trying to get some chocolate or coffee. It could be raining on this Halloween for you overall I am getting this day will be hectic and a lot for you but I am hearing isn’t it always? Lol I agree but hang in there. Your future spouse could be kinda short or at least you two will look eye to eye ya know what I mean? They could dress very mismatched like they don’t know how to dress honestly. It’s giving when in movies someone is so rich they don’t care about anything even the way they dress and act all stuck up and stuff? He/she could be like that just kinda bratty it could even get on your nerves a lot and make you frustrated but I am getting you two are very different and you help balance them out a lot. I see they just have a lot of attitude on the first day you will experience it and you obviously liked it lol they sound like an angry cute bunny ya know. It could bite you but it’s so cute you aren’t even mad but instead gush over it. Y’all sound so cute especially the way y’all meet it reminds me of when in a drama the female lead bumps into the rich CEO and the male lead is rude to everyone but then the female lead softens him up somehow.

(I hope this resonates with you🐺)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️

[sea-stone]

Finally, after ages, it arrives. This is the first entry to a setting of stories I am dubbing "A Durkmuir County Tale" about a modernish day, light fantasy world of paranormal creatures and humans living in tentative harmony out in an American inspired rural country county. I hope you all enjoy, please let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Note: Part one is SFW with mild horny tension, but the following one is very explicit and will contain a list of touched on topics.

Thank you to my fellow monster lovers for inspiring me to finally share my work. I have listed a few below, and to @monstersflashlight for being a betta reader!

@bucketsofmonsters

@momolady

@dragonsholygrail

@cheesomancer

@aftermidnightspecial

@moonshine-nightlight

@snowkissedmonsters

@flowerbetweenfangs

Caught by Moonlight - Part One

Can't Run Forever

Your heart dropped as soon as you heard that pop on the front driver’s side, and heard the familiar 'fuddudduddudd'  of an accursed flat tire. You groaned. And cursed.  And exclaimed bitterly “Fine, then. Whatever!!” as you decided the only best place to pull over was on the same dirt road you had driven for over 10 miles on already. You flicked on the hazards, and took some slow, strained deep breaths with your forehead pressed against the top of your wheel. It was past Midnight; you were alone. Hardly anyone drove this road outside of your neighbors, and it was a Sunday night so they were all asleep. No one would find you until at least sunrise. You checked your phone, and groaned because of course, it’s at 2% battery with no signal. Because of course you forgot to replace your broken car charger. You smeared frustrated fears from your eyes, and resolved to sit in the bed of your old Tacoma and wait instead of moping inside the cab.

A cruel memory of a similar situation a few months back had warned you to replace all your tires rather than drive on the spare. But who had money to spend on that shit? At least it was a summer night, and the full moon hung near directly above you. You could see for nearly 50 miles around you, into the empty grassland many people called No Man’s Land. It was supposedly government land, but no one bothered with it. Even the Sheriff's Deputies rarely patrolled it. On a fun night, you would have been able to trek on foot to a campfire session some Old Hippies from the City would host. But it was a Sunday, in a small Christian area, so there was nobody but Gaia’s Wilderness to keep you company. Even though the air felt like it was about 70 degrees, you shivered with the thin, oversized overshirt and a tank top. You wrapped your arms tightly around your chest as you sat cross legged on your tailgate, rocking slightly. You blankly stared ahead of you, back down the road, with the mountains to the back of you. Had you planned for it, it would have been a great place to camp; but no, you had nothing to work with. You never planned anything, and that bad habit bit you in the ass every time it could.

You probably looked like an abandoned dog on the side of the road, and hopefully pitiful enough to help out. You tried playing temptress to men and monsters alike, but that proved too successful, too dangerous. When you closed your eyes, especially when you felt so alone and isolated, you could still see his fierce green eyes. If you weren’t careful, if you let yourself remember Anad, it ached with need shortly followed waves of guilt and shame. It hurt how much you wanted him, and you battled the regret of cutting him from your life every day. Even after the phone calls stopped, after you deleted his last text, you couldn’t bring yourself to crawl back to him after leaving him with no answer of why you left in the first place. One of the main reasons you have been having a shitty couple of weeks was that you realized your mistake too late. By the time you realized you were haunted by regret, he stopped trying to reach you. Now here you were, in the same spot you were before he met him: with no one but your own cruel thoughts to keep you company. 

You lifted your face that had been buried in your arms, suprised to the sound of a car heading towards you. It was odd, but a welcomed sight to see an very unlikely sight of a Deputy Sheriff SUV round the bend a few miles down the road. You slid off the tail hitch and closed it, and you had to shield your eyes as the SUV pulled up about 20 feet behind you. You squinted, trying to see who it was behind the driver’s seat. When they hesitated to come out, you took a few steps closer. Finally, they turned their vehicle off first, and then their lights, which allowed you to see a looming shape exit the vehicle. Normally, you could tell just by the height of the officer who it was, but you didn’t recall anyone with that hulking silhouette before on the team. You shook your head, blinking repeatedly to get your eyes to adjust, and when they did you saw his remarkable green eyes flash from your truck’s hazard lights. He slowly walked towards you, and you backed yourself up against the trailer hitch, your heart pounding. He only got close enough to where you could see him clearly, and it was a feast for your eyes. 

Anad, who normally wore garish silk pants and nothing else when you saw him at the clubs you both frequented, wore the typical sandy button up, khaki pants, and cowboy boots that any human would. The clothes strained against his bulk, and the top  buttons had gone missing or were removed permanently. Your eyes followed the transition of his orange striped fur into the white stripes that came down from the neck to his exquisite collar bone and the top of his enormous pecs. If it wasn't so tense, you would be drooling, but kept your mouth pressed tightly closed. Your knees would have buckled if you hadn’t already braced against the cold metal of your truck, reminding you that this wasn’t just a weird fever dream. “Ah-Anad,” you stumbled to speak, but words failed you as your mouth dried up. You saw it too: the both of you were straining to breathe normally. His eyes betrayed the mixture of desire and pain that his otherwise steely expression failed to express, and he couldn’t control how his tail flicked back and forth, almost in aggressive irritation. “I don’t understand. How are you here right now?” You managed to say with a shaky breath. 

He broke out of pensive trance, and he anxiously ran his hands over his face and back over his head as he broke eye contact. “I followed you from work,” he admitted, through gritted teeth. “I guessed when you pulled over that it was because your spare finally wore through like your other tires. I went ahead and called Arturo’s Tow and Pull, but they can't get out till morning at the earliest to tow your car. There was a bad accident on Highway 8, so all the trucks got sent to help out that way about an hour ago.” You frowned, and you looked up at him utterly confused. “We can either wait out here for them to come, or I can drive you home. It’s your choice.” He continued to figet with his hands, frowning as he thought about what to say next. “When I hadn't heard from you, I thought you were busy. But after a week, I was almost convinced you got bored of me.” He sighed, and folded his arms. Goddess, it was so distracting as his muscles flexed in his arms, threatening to tear through his clothes. He continued, his tone switching between frustration and dejection.

“When I didn't see you at the clubs anymore, I grew concerned. Maybe you were just done with Monsters, but I talked with the other Deputies, and they said you weren't seeing anyone new. I was getting desperate.” Anad cautiously approached you again. When you didn’t move, he walked until he was within inches of you, and boxed you in by gripping the top of the trailer hitch on either side of you. You tried to hold back how much you liked that stance. The only thing keeping your hands off him was just how pained he looked and how much that hurt your soul to see. “I just - I need to know. I’m not going to let you go until you talk to me,” he spoke softly, lower, trying to hide his pleading tone. “I just want to know why you ghosted me,” he lowered his face lower to better hold your gaze, searching your eyes for the answer. You could even see his whiskers twitch, anxiously trying to read you. You could barely breathe, your heart screamed in your ears.

The tears you had beaten back finally broke through, slowly streaming down your cheeks. “I'm scared,” you hardly spoke louder than a whisper, and you felt his breath hitch. The metal under his grip creaked as he tried to hide how those words hurt him. He let one of his hands go slack beside you, grazing your shoulder and arm. He looked away then, over your shoulder, a face painted with dejection.

“What did I do wrong? Please, you got to tell me,” he pleaded. “I thought we were good, more than good even.” He tapped your hand with the back of his, and you vainly grabbed his hand with yours. He looked down and rearranged his to envelop your whole hand and wrist, seeing as it so comically dwarfed yours.

“It was too good,” you told him, your voice breaking under strained control. He pulled his face back enough to better look at you, utterly confused. “Everything was great; you’re amazing.” You cast a glance down at your enclosed hand as his grip tightened. “It wasn’t supposed to get serious. It was just supposed to be just sex.” His eyes bore in the skull, but you just couldn’t meet his gaze yet.

“But it wasn’t,” he acknowledged and he gently kissed the top of your head. Your cheeks warmed at his tenderness, and your heart fluttered as he sniffed your hair fondly.

“Why do you have to be so perfect,” you whined, and fell forward into his chest. He wrapped his other arm around your shoulders into a tight embrace. Even his tail curled around your leg sweetly. “How could I fall so hard without knowing anything about you,” you sobbed. “I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran.” You wrapped your arms as best you could around him, and let his warmth, his scent wash over you. Anad smelled like your favorite incense smoke, a calming yet arousing spiced scent that didn’t seem real. It always calmed you and equally stirred lecherous thoughts in your mind. In that moment, it was the most welcomed feeling after realizing how lonely you were without him.

He didn't speak again as he let you sob into his chest. You both did your best to cradle each other, despite the obvious height and size difference, in hopes to alleviate the strain in both of your hearts. 

Some time must have passed as he finally loosened his hold and brought your face up to his, both of his hands cupping your cheeks delicately. “I should get you home,” he told you, fondness showered down from his eyes. You smiled with a sniffle and nodded, leaning into him while he strokes your cheeks for a moment before letting you go. Reflexively, you reached for his face, and gave him a delicate kiss. It was meant to be purely romantic, but you felt heat bloom in both of your bodies again as he deepened the kiss, allowing you to feel his fangs on your tongue before he broke away.

“We have a lot to catch up on,” he implied hungrily, but added with a calmed tone. “I still have more questions.” 

“I do as well,” you replied and winked at him, and you both walked over to his car, a new spring in your step. 

[scrollonso]

Heaven

A marcmarc fluff oneshot (1.7k words)

Pecco had won, and despite Bez finishing eighth, seeing his best friend on the top step of the podium washed away all his disappointment. Seeing his boyfriend smiling so brightly with his brother standing just one step below probably helped too. Bez couldn't help but shift his focus from Pecco to the Spaniard beside him, he looked perfect up there.

A few hours had passed since the podium celebration, and now Bez was heading out to celebrate the way he liked best, with alcohol and the rest of the academy. As soon as he entered the bar, Pecco greeted him with a bright smile. They hugged without hesitation.

"Feeling good, amo?" Bez grinned at his friend, who nodded, still on cloud nine from his earlier win.

"Andavi fortissimo," Bez praised. It was true, Pecco had been incredibly fast, beating Marc was a big deal, especially to Vale's boys.

They made their way through the building, joining the others and striking up conversations.

It didn't take long for Bez to get drunk, becoming more giggly than usual as he clung to anyone who got too close.

Cele was the closest, not minding the arms wrapped around him as he continued to drink, far less drunk than the curly-haired boy attached to his hip. Everything was funnier to Bez in this state, whether it was Vale coughing or a girl coming over to hit on one of them, he couldn't stop the giggles that followed.

As the night went on, the bar became livelier. Bez's laughter filled the room. Cele, amused by his friend's antics, tried to keep Bez upright as they navigated through the crowd.

"Hey, Bez, maybe slow down a bit," Cele suggested, chuckling as Bez nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Wowww" Bez groaned, his words slurring slightly. "Are you making fun of me for getting eigth"

"Oh shut up" Cele rolled his eyes, pushing him into a seat in a quieter area of the bar, not wanting him to get too drunk. The last thing he wanted to do was be on "Babysit Bez" duty.

Pecco joined them, a drink in hand and a wide grin on his face. "Looks like someone's having a good time," he teased, hand patting the back of Bez's head.

Bez frowned up at him. "Cele's making fun of me, this isn't fun anymore" The trio knew he was just being dramatic, this is how it went for Bez. Clingy, overdramatic, then sad.

Bez leaned heavily against Cele, his head resting on his shoulder. Cele's arm wrapped around Bez's shoulders, keeping him steady.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" Pecco asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Training," Cele replied, rolling his eyes. "Break just started and I can't even enjoy it yet."

Bez groaned dramatically as if he was the one scheduled to train, he had a week until his turn. "Do we have to? Can't we just stay here and drink forever?"

Pecco laughed. "Don't think you need any more to drink ever."

The night continued with stories, laughter, and more drinks, to Pecco's dismay. Eventually, Bez's energy began to wane. Cele noticed and leaned closer, having to speak louder into his ear to make his voice clear over the music.

"You okay?" Cele asked, concern in his eyes.

Bez nodded, though his eyelids were drooping. "Just tired," he mumbled.

Pecco sat down beside him. "Maybe it's time to call it a night. You've had enough fun for one evening." Bez sighed but didn't argue.

With Cele's help, Bez managed to stand up. Pecco took his other side, and together they guided him out of the bar. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy bar, and Bez took a deep breath, feeling a bit more alert.

"Thanks," Bez said, his voice soft. "You guys are so nice to me."

"Of course," Cele replied, smiling.

As they walked back to their hotel, the streets quiet and empty, Bez began to perk up at the thought of seeing Rubik. When they finally reached the hotel and made their way to Bez's room, they were greeted by an enthusiastic dog, who immediately bounded over, tail wagging furiously.

"Hey, buddy," Bez mumbled, kneeling down to cup Rubik's face, kissing all over the dogs fur. His excitement was contagious, and Bez's tired eyes lit up.

"Looks like someone missed you," Cele said with a smile, watching the joyful reunion, no matter how long the two were apart it was always like this when they came back together.

Pecco gave Bez a quick hug once he finally let go of the Pitbull, "Sleep well, Bez. We'll see you in the morning?"

Bez nodded, having no plan of falling asleep as he fell onto his bed, Rubik settling down beside Bez as he pulled his phone from his back pocket to call Marc.

The phone rang a few times before he heard a familiar voice on the other line, curls falling back as he rolled onto his back. "Cucciolo, where are you?"

"I'm on the way to my hotel, is everything okay mi cielo?" Marc asked, picking up on Bez's drunken state just by the way he spoke

"Come to mine?" He asked, slightly whining as he thought about being alone, now he was sad.

"Okay, I'll be there soon Marco" He confirmed before hanging up, he was about a 10 minute drive from Bez's hotel.

Bez waited impatiently, the Spaniard couldn't get there soon enough. He pulled Rubik closer, muttering in Italian about his boyfriend. Where was he? Was he close? Was he not coming? Did Marc not want to see him?

It was silly, really, Marc adored being with Bez, he was happiest with the Italian in his arms and Bez was well aware of that, Marc made sure to vocalize his feelings whenever he could so there was no need for him to get so worked up over this, though the alcohol wasn't working in his favour.

Having a dog like Rubik was great when Bez was alone, he could be as clingy as he wanted to the pitbull and he never cared, more than happy to be smothered by the racer.

Time passed by slow for both of them, Marc eager to get out of his car and hurry inside, knowing exactly where to go to find Bez's room, it was easier when they were staying in motorhomes by the track but because the two were staying in Germany a little longer than the others their managers made sure to book them hotels instead.

He soon reached the boys door, knocking three quick times before stepping back to wait for the door to swing open.

Like clockwork both Bez and Rubik shot up, greeting Marc with smiles on their faces. Before the Spaniard could even speak the Italians arms were wrapped around his shoulders, light kisses being pressed on the side of his face as he was pulled back into the room

"Hi, cielo, hi" Marc laughed, leaning into the touch as Rubik waited impatiently for some attention to be on him, too.

"I missed you so much" Bez confessed between kisses, pulling back to look at Marc, "missed your face."

He couldn't stop his lips from curling up as he looked at Bez, eyes shining as he examined his boyfriends face. Cheeks still flushed red from his activities earlier in the night, curls now frizzy from laying on his back while waiting.

"Did you have fun? You celebrated with Pecco, no?" Marc asked, looking away to give Rubik what he wanted, nice scratches under his jaw

Bez hummed, cheeks hurting because of the smile stuck on his face, he loved seeing Rubik and Marc together, his two favourite boys getting along. "Yeah, everyone went to a bar together, drank too much"

"You always drink too much" He responded playfully, laughing at the expression on Bez's face, he knew it was true but he'd never admit it.

It wasn't long before they ended up laying down together, Rubik curled up on Marc's left, Bez on his right with his head on his chest as if he wasn't nearly 10 centimeters taller than him. To them it didn't matter, this is how it went. Marc always made sure Bez knew he was his, his baby, his heaven, his Marco.

Marc's hand found its way into the Italians hair, nails softly scratching Bez's hair. He hummed contently, eyes closing as he focused on the feeling, something so comforting about the position they were in, they'd stay like this forever if they could.

The room was filled with a quiet sense of peace as they lay together. Bez's breathing started to even out, and Marc could feel the tension melt away from his boyfriend's body. Rubik snuggled closer to Marc's side, his warmth adding to the cozy atmosphere.

Marc softly whispered, "Te amo, Marco."

"Ti amo, Marc," Bez murmured back, a sleepy smile on his face. He felt completely at ease, surrounded by the two people he loved most.

After a few moments of silence, Bez spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for coming, amore."

Marc pressed a gentle kiss to Bez's forehead. "I'll always come to you. You know that."

Bez nodded, feeling his eyes grow heavier. He clung to the comfort of Marc's presence and Rubik's warmth. It was moments like these that made having to keep this a secret worth it. He was loved, cherished, and supported, and he knew that.

As the night deepened, Marc continued to run his fingers through Bez's hair, humming quietly as he gazed lovingly, Marc could look at him forever. Bez's breathing became slow and rhythmic, signaling that he had finally fallen asleep. Marc glanced down at him, his heart swelling with affection.

"Sleep well," Marc whispered.

The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of their breathing and the occasional snuffle from Rubik. The chaos of the day had faded, leaving only the serenity of the night. Marc stayed awake a little longer, savoring the moment and the sense of completeness it brought him.

Eventually, he too closed his eyes, letting sleep take over. Tomorrow could wait. For now, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

[taomyou]

the art of watching the wind - chapter 1

Pairing: Nanami Kento/Reader

Status: ONGOING, updates every other saturday, 1/7 chapters

Summary: As it turns out, swapping out his corporate cubicle for a florist’s counter doesn’t mean he’s learned how to live life to the fullest.

But, as Nanami Kento comes to find out for himself, it does mean he has all the time in the world to spend it on the beach with the woman who’ll show him how to.

-

or, Nanami learning how to be happy.

Word Count: 9.0k

Tags: slow burn, modern au - no curses, reader-insert, character study, fluff, hurt/comfort, light angst, nanami pov

(A/N: this fic is available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead! chapter one is mostly setting/exposition)

“That’ll be it for today's shipment, my friend!” Gojo beams, one hand on his hip while the other slaps against the side of a crate of roses. When his friend doesn’t say anything in response, he frowns, shoving his hands into the pockets of his rugged work pants. “Hey, what’s with the long face?”

Nanami blinks, his hands gripping onto the handlebar of the platform cart. “What?”

“You good?”

“Oh, yes, I'm fine,” Nanami answers, loosening his grip on the handles. “Just a bit tired.”

"Last one in the shop today?"

"Yeah. Yaga's coming by later to drop off some papers, but I should be gone by then."

"Sounds good." Gojo smiles at his friend sympathetically before putting a hand on his shoulder as he begins to pass him on the walk back to the delivery truck. “Take it easy, yeah? No need to stress yourself out.”

The blonde sighs before halfheartedly nodding, gently removing the gloved hand from his arm. “I’m not, but I appreciate your concern.”

“If you say so,” Gojo teases, “See you around, Nanami. Would love to chat, but I've gotta finish up my route ASAP and beat that loser."

"You're still on about that? I thought you already won."

"That was last month! I need to prove I can keep up with the spring rush this month!" Gojo laughs. "Besides, he's the one that gets all butthurt about it, I wouldn't care if he didn't."

Nanami supposes it's true. The older man—whose name is Fushiguro, if he's remembering correctly—seems to have it out for the white-haired delivery driver; Nanami remembers him grumbling under his breath about Gojo "fucking up the schedule" and "making him look cheap," whatever that's supposed to mean, but though their rivalry seems fairly one-sided, Gojo indulges him for the fun of it.

Nanami doesn't quite get it, but he supposes this is just what happens when you need to make up your own fun on the job.

"Well, good luck then."

"Won't need it, but thanks! Let’s grab drinks sometime, my treat if you pay for dessert after!”

The blonde kisses his teeth, but he smiles in spite of it. “Sure. I’ll let you know when I’m available.” He probably won’t, but he’s sure that his friend will find a way to drag him out for a night in the town sometime soon, one way or another (and that, one way or another, he'll find a way to get out of it).

Nanami raises a hand from the handle as a gesture of his goodbyes as Gojo leaves, as does Gojo himself on his way back to his truck. He watches as his friend hops up onto the high seat of the vehicle, picks up a clipboard from the passenger-side seat, and writes down something with a pen he'd kept tucked behind his ear. With his gloves still on, Gojo pulls out his phone from his pocket and nestles it between his shoulder and his ear, still marking down items on the clipboard whilst checking over his shoulder occasionally to look for things in the backseat.

It sure is jarring to see the boisterous snow-haired man hard at work at... anything, really. He'd always been so carefree and limitless, and though those traits still exist in the man whilst on the clock, he seems just a tad bit more responsible than Nanami remembered him to be.

Has it really been so long that he'd been able to change so much without Nanami noticing?

The blonde is completely silent as he turns and wheels back the last of this week’s delivery into the back of the shop. It's not an entirely far walk, but the shop isn't immediately near any delivery zone, so Nanami has to push the cart a fair bit away before he can really call it a day. He's had to walk the same path everyday, multiple times each time, but he still somehow forgets the crack in the pavement that, if he rolls the cart over it, knocks back the whole thing and nearly tips all the crates' contents out. Instead of cursing himself (or whatever else he can think to blame, really), he bitterly smiles as he tugs on the cart and lets go of the handle with one hand so that he can hold up the crates for the remainder of the trip back to the shop.

At least this is the last time he has to make the journey today. He'll just have to remember to avoid that sidewalk hazard next time. He's reminded himself of this every shift, actually, but he somehow always seems to forget.

When he gets back to the shop, the back entrance is held open with a spare footstool he'd placed there at the beginning of the day. Helps keep the place well-circulated while the air conditioning is being repaired, for one, and it's nice not having to awkwardly open it and hold it out with his arm fully outstretched every time he passes through. Still, Nanami has to readjust his grip on the handlebar of the cart because one of the front wheels gets caught on the doorframe, and after tugging on it thrice, it gives way, he's able to get through smoothly. He pushes through and is now inside the back room of the shop, and he makes sure that his apron is securely tied behind his back before he moves to take the crates off of the cart.

The backroom is quiet, save for the gentle creaking of the boxes as he moves them into the walk-in cooler, and once everything’s offloaded, he moves the cart to its designated spot in the corner of the room. His back aches slightly from the slow, weighted movements, as the crates are decently heavy and require more strength to lift than he has at this late hour of the day, but he bears with it long enough for him to finish without breaking too much of a sweat.

“That should be it,” Nanami whispers to himself, looking around the room. He makes sure that everything’s in its proper place—the cart, the gloves, the stool, the rows of crates filled with flowers that’ll need to be sorted first thing tomorrow morning—and he lets out a sigh of relief when he's triple-checked that it is.

Good. Everything’s where it should be. All that's left is to close the back door, and he'll get to be cozy at the counter doing what he does best. It's a bit cold today, winter only just now turning to spring, so he'll change his apron and pull his sleeves back to full-length.

As he steps out to retrieve the chair that's holding it open, his eyes are downturned and his hands are busy putting the stool back in its proper place; but, as he waits for the door to close behind him, he looks over his shoulder to be momentarily met with the sight of the sunset. The sky at this time of day is a sight Nanami hardly ever got to see before working here, and he feels it'd be a waste to not at least try to catch sight of it before the day is over, so he takes it in during the brief seconds it takes for the door to close.

Some of the late-night spots in the nearby shopping center are beginning to turn on their lights to let people know that they're open for business, and that casts more light upwards in bursts of technicolor. Molten gold and pear-cut sapphire melt into one another in front of a barely-there haze, and birds sparsely dot the horizon like sesame seeds on a red bean bun. Brushstrokes of red, violet, and pink chase each other against a pale canvas of blues and silver, and rays of sunlight burst through to form a halo over the earth. The underside of the clouds are burnt umber and golden brown, flaky and crisp like a pastry sitting neatly in a display case, and they frame the sky like its a painting.

It doesn't take a genius to know that the sight is beautiful—a snapshot of the world from a corner of it that only he knows in this very moment. The faint spring breeze certainly does help in painting the picture, pushing his outgrown bangs out of his face and kissing him with the gentleness of the zephyr.

It's too bad, then, that it's a sight that Nanami still ultimately doesn't care much for, because instead of basking in the light, he winces at it with worn, tired eyes. He puts his free hand over his eyes to rub the weariness from them, and he keeps them closed as he turns back in towards the shop.

Must the sun always be so bright, so "in-your-face?"

Checking his watch, he sees that if he finishes a bit earlier than usual with the bookkeeping today, he should have enough time to make it to the bakery right off the freeway on his way home before they close. He'd been meaning to try the quaint little bakery for so long now, having been recommended it by an older woman in his building he'd helped carry in her groceries when he first moved to the city three long years ago, but between his job, leaving said previous job, and getting adjusted to his current... arrangements, there hasn't really been a good time to go.

Truthfully, he's memorized their menu, front-to-back, and he thinks about making the drive over often, but he just... doesn't. There's always something in the way: work that needs to be done before the end of the day, personal errands he needs to run, a bad mood that won't let him go. Instead, their hours of operation are taped onto the walls of his heart and left to peel with the paint, but they've still always functioned as a loose guide as to whether or not Nanami's doing a good job keeping track of his time at work.

Clearly, he hasn't ever done that.

But, if he gets out on time today, it'd be a nice milestone gift, he tells himself.

Besides, today marks the third month of him working here—it wouldn't hurt to treat himself to a little trip over to the storefront.

There's not much else in his life that he has to celebrate anyway, so he'll just make it up as it goes. He didn't even realize three months had passed, just taking things day-by-day to keep the dread of the future at bay for as long as he could, but a younger high school-aged boy, Itadori, had started at the shop on the same day as him, and Nanami'd overheard him telling a customer that he hit the quarter-year mark at the job (a miracle, apparently, because his grades demand much more attention than work should; still, Nanami helps him and one of the other coworkers, Kugisaki, with their maths homework when it's not too busy at the shop).

Yeah. Today can be the day.

He can play it by ear. He's made peace with the fact that this is about as good as it gets, and there's no better time than the present when he's so sorely reminded of the fact now that he's left behind nearly everything he'd ever known in his professional career for... whatever he's made of his life thus far.

He'll make it special.

He's said that a million times before, but, today, he really means it.

After blinking a few times to get the sun out of his eyes, Nanami puts the stool in its usual spot right next to the door. With his hands now free, he unties the back of his apron, walks over to hang it up at the hook right at the curtain between the two areas of the shop. He pushes through the half-height fabric curtains as he tugs his sleeves back to his wrists, and he buttons his cuffs back up as he's making himself comfortable at the florist's counter.

With his cabinet key, Nanami opens up the side drawer where the accounting materials are, and he pulls them out to lay next to the shop's computer. It's a bit outdated, clunky beige keyboard and all, but he doesn't mind it. He types in the passcode for the admin account with his right hand on the number pad whilst putting on his reading glasses, kept in his shirt's breast pocket at all times, and he gets to work. Having had so much practice in the trade, he gets through all the bookkeeping tasks quickly enough. There's a few hiccups because the shop is still in the process of changing their payroll system and Nanami's in charge of getting that all sorted out, but that's nothing out of the ordinary for any business going through the same procedures.

It's a bore to remember what it is that he's even doing, lost in the flurry as tabs are closed and new ones are opened, but at least he's only doing this for a couple hours every week as opposed to his entire working day. His face is completely stoic as he types, clicks, and flips through the logbook for delivery dates and other miscellaneous information. Nanami keeps track of what he's finished with and what data he'll need for his next bookkeeping session for Yaga to pick up whilst he's dropping off papers later, and the older man will know to then drop those notes off with his parents—the owners of the store.

They're nice people. He knew them as clients when they outsourced their accounting to his firm (and, thusly, him), and they'd been generous enough to offer him a full-time position in the shop, especially considering he had absolutely no experience in any sort of floristry. Nanami wished they'd come around more often as it's a bit hard to express his gratitude to them through emails and in the in-between of the margins of the papers they have him sign, but he's glad to know they're able to spend most of their time doing things more typical for a couple their age. 

He doesn't mind it, though—the work. Inputting numbers, cleaning buckets, double-checking financial records, dethorning roses, calculating the budget, putting together bouquets and other arrangements—all of it. Really, he doesn't. He's obviously more... adept at some things more than others, but he's learned to enjoy what he's learned in his time working here. But, while his hands move methodically and his eyes trace the screen from left to right, he can't help but be reminded of how he'd used to do this for a living. He supposes that he still does, but being a general florist who helps out with the bookkeeping for a small family-owned flower shop is quite a far step away from being the top financial analyst at the region's most prestigious accounting firm.

He really shouldn't be thinking about it. He's already spent enough time contemplating whether or not the pay cut was worth whatever sanity he'd scraped away for himself when he left, and he should be happy he's content where he is.

He's not happy here. It's as simple as that.

After he locks up the cabinet and clocks out for the day, he exhales deeply, leaning forward with his elbows on the counter and rubbing at his temples with his hands. His head doesn't hurt like how it used to, but it's still not exactly raring for more to do. Sitting here, he has a clear enough view of the sidewalk in front of the shop, if only blocked by towers of flowers and gift displays.

He sees that the sun has set, and he won't have to worry about it blinding him from the horizon as he's driving home. That's nice.

After taking another few deep breaths, he gets up from the seat, and he grabs his coat and other personal belongings before locking up shop, getting into his car, and starting the drive home. Glancing at the clock now, there's still about an hour or so before the bakery closes, so he decides he'll make the quick detour over there. As he maneuvers through the highway, sure-as-steel that he's obeying all traffic laws despite the ache in his feet and the dreariness of his morale, his mind drifts slightly to the long-awaited sweets he's been fantasizing about for years. 

Has it really been so long since he's moved to this city?

Regardless, whatever'd been keeping him from going over to the little bakery for so long, he'll conquer it today. There's still enough time to make it comfortably before closing; he checks and there's forty-five minutes for him to make it there comfortably, and he's nearing his exit anyway.

He wonders what he'll get. It'd always been a faraway thought—that he'd ever make the time to go to the bakery on the off-road—so he always just figured he'd order whatever gets recommended to him. He's done his fair share of looking at their menu, though. He remembers, in the very beginnings of his time at that... horrendous job, back before he'd been overworked and overloaded with the tasks of more than a hundred men, he'd look up pictures and reviews and transcripts of their offerings online when the workday got slow enough for him to take his phone out of his bag and steal time. Back then, he truthfully did have the time to go and try it out, maybe even reach out to a friend and invite him to come along, but he supposes he'd figured he'd have time for it in the future.

"Save it for another time," he remembers telling himself. "It'll taste better if you wait for it—if you have something to celebrate."

Next thing he knows, three years and three months have passed, and he's never so much as driven past the place.

But, amidst the blooming angst, his mind conjures up those fond memories of himself using his old work computer to look at online reviews for the place. Thinking of them again now after so long, he

All those pastries, all those sweets, all those breads. It'd been so easy for him to forget that such a simple thing brought him joy; that anything at all brought him any kind of peace. He feels it in the pit of his stomach right now—the quiet little spark of excitement he hasn't felt in ages. If he'd known he'd be so worked up over the mere prospect of enjoying something sweet there, or maybe even something savory, he'd have quit his corporate job so, so long ago.

A new match lit in his chest, he smiles to himself slightly as he's driving through the wind. He rests his elbow just beneath the side window and props his head on that hand, and he moves his other hand to the top of the wheel to steer with a bit more panache. There's not much light out anymore and he still has to be careful he's driving safely in the dark, but he gets cozy against his seat cushion and lets himself sink deeply into the plush. His window's rolled up because he's not sure his senses can take much more overload after a day spent near wet flowers and loud, crinkling cellophane, but he'd like to think there's another version of himself out there whose able to feel the breeze through his hair.

Then, just as suddenly, the fire's put out by an inevitable wind, because just as he's beginning to merge into the exit lane he's meant to take to get to the bakery, a car cuts in front of him, forcing Nanami to slam his brakes and grip the steering wheel harder to avoid hitting the vehicle in front of him. Just barely able to check his mirrors, he swerves back into the faster, continuing lane and pushes on the gas to keep the car behind him from driving into him. Nanami's seatbelt saves him from launching forward, but, now looking over at the center console as he's checking for the time, the same can't be said for the cup of coffee he'd forgotten in his car's cupholder from yesterday morning.

Great. Coffee all over the center console and even more of it starting to soak into his passenger seat.

He's forced to just sigh and look ahead, now only ready to go home and get started on cleaning his car. He raises his hand for the driver behind him to know that he's sorry he had to swerve in front of them, his heart still beating out of his chest, and he blows anger out through his nose as he's forced to think about whether or not he's going to reroute to still get to the bakery or just resign for the day and go home. Looking at the clock again, there's only about thirty minutes left for until closing, and, even then, it'd be cutting it so close if he were to get there in the twenty-something minutes it'd take to figure out how to get there, park, and find something to order or choose from the display case.

If working at the flower shop has taught him nothing else thus far, it's that coming in that close to closing is enough to ruin everyone's evening, and Nanami'd rather not put any of the closers through more than they already have to deal with.

Quite unfortunate, all things considered, but there's nothing he can do about it now. Most he can do is frown about it while he's brushing his teeth later, maybe even curse the universe after he's gone through the apartment and made sure all the lights are off.

Maybe another time, then. There's more important things to do than try out some bread that's probably not as great as he's made it out to be in his head.

🔅

With a heavy heart (and a trash bag filled with coffee-soaked napkins and a now-barely damp washcloth), Nanami pulls his keys from out of his pocket, finds the one he needs to open his apartment door, and steps through. He hangs his keys up on a red push pin that's stuck into the drywall immediately to his right, courtesy of an old friend who'd helped him move into the place way back when, and he holds himself upright using the doorframe.

"I'm home," he says to the walls, taking off his shoes and leaving them near the welcome mat by the entrance. He's lived alone for a long time now, but he supposes he never really grew out of the habit of greeting the house when he's home. He leaves the trash bag by the door to take out with the rest of the trash later, dreading the eventual long walk he has to take to get to the dumpster, but, other than that, everything else about his routine tonight is the same.

There's nothing important about today, so there's nothing new for him to do.

After changing into something comfortable enough to lounge around in, Nanami drags his feet as he walks back out to the kitchen to see what he can make himself for dinner. His socks create enough static that he's shocked when he grazes the metal of his bedroom's doorframe, but he can't be much more bothered than he already is, so he just ignores it.

His fridge is exactly how he'd left it that same morning, with more than enough ingredients to put together a decent meal for himself, and he moves around aimlessly to do so. Today, it's a quick short rib stew with rice, and he lets a shuffled mix of songs he doesn't quite enjoy play from his phone to keep himself awake enough to not burn himself as he's cooking.

He eats at the dining table with a book propped up on an empty vase and held open with the pinky and thumb of his left hand, chewing while mindlessly reading about the development of various computer types, and he lets the dishes soak in the sink while he sits across the television and watches today's rerun of the Great British Bake-Off. He still hates watching the technical bake, but he's just being a hypocrite; not like he can do any of that either.

Once he's tired of watching yet another person underwhip their soufflé batter, he runs his hands down his face lethargically and gets up to do the dishes, very much aware of the ache in his feet after hours standing up on the shop. The hurt's caught up with him by now and he has to hold onto the counter to keep his legs from shaking, but maybe he's just being dramatic for the sake of it because he's able to bear it just fine when he has scalding hot water burning his hands as he scrubs away stubborn stains.

After that's done and dealt with, he takes out the trash, cleans up around the apartment, makes sure to pay for the water bill that's finally reached him from the previous month. He makes sure to appreciate how low it is right now because he knows it's only going to get higher with the rising temperature.

He takes a shower to wash all the loose petals and leaves that've snuck between his work clothes and his body, brushes his teeth (fully remembering to fume to himself about having to miss going to that bakery), and after making sure that all his lights are off and no appliances are left running, he lays in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his hands laced over his sternum.

Well, that's it.

That's his day, full and complete.

Get up, go to work, work, go home, go to sleep. There's some other steps along the way, and, sure, there's other things he could be doing, but it is what it is

It isn't quite the life he'd dreamed of when he left his hometown—that was what he had before his quit his corporate job—so, if he ignores the pay cut, the loss of prestige, and the shame of being somewhere he'd never planned for himself, then this is the next best thing.

And sleep comes to him quickly, he's grateful for that.

Still, in the very brief and very quiet minutes it takes for the dull ache in his muscles and the even more faint one in his heart to settle enough for him to drift off into dreamless sleep, he wonders if this is really all life has to offer.

It has to be.

...

Right?

🔅

Nanami wakes up before his alarm has the chance to ring.

His body rises with the sun, its rays bleeding in through the fabric curtains at the window in his bedroom, and he rolls over onto his side to feel around for his cell phone, unplugs it, and checks for the time. He doesn't trust himself to be able to wake up a second time with only a few minutes until he's meant to actually get up, so with a yawn, he slips out of bed, puts on his house slippers, and drags himself to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.

As he's brushing, he lets his mind drift until a swipe of toothpaste slips out of his mouth and falls onto the floor. He frowns, toothbrush still between his lips, and he reaches down with a paper towel to clean it. He's not allowed to move around lethargically anymore, acutely aware of the need to keep things clean so he doesn't have to come home to a mess at the end of the day, so instead of dreaming about the perfect breads he'd pair with the most perfect jams and the most perfect butters, he plans out his day.

What day of the week is it, again?

Maybe today's Monday? Tuesday, even?

Probably Monday. The weekend rush was noticeable enough yesterday.

He supposes it's hardly relevant, though, so he'll just figure it out later. It'd only matter if it were a Wednesday or a Thursday because those are his days off, but he knows it's not either of those days because he usually has to do laundry by then, and, right now, the bin's only three-fourths of the way full with clothes stained by cell sap.

No matter, he has to get to work soon, then get home after work, then make himself dinner, tidy up again, go to sleep again.

After gathering his bearings, he stands over the sink and spits out the pale blue mix of toothpaste suds and morning mouth grime. He runs his hands underneath the running water quickly, flicks his wrists to help dry them, and he runs his cold hands over his face to help keep himself awake as he gets ready. After he's made sure everything's been locked up properly and just as he likes it in the morning, he puts on a dress shirt, dress pants, dress socks, his watch, the non-slip deck shoes Yaga practically shoved Nanami's feet into when he found out he had been wearing oxfords to the shop up until that point, and he's on his way out the door with a cup of peach yogurt in one hand and his keys in the other. In his bag is a tupperware container with last night's leftovers and his wallet, and that's about all he needs for his day.

The route from his apartment to work is one that's fully planned and practiced by now: get on the highway, get on the ramp to the eastward route, exit, drive extra slow to not startle the elderly woman who owns the laundromat right next to the shop, and park directly underneath a tree that keeps his car cool for the duration of its stay there. By now, he's gotten pretty good at remembering which stoplights give him enough time to spoon himself some yogurt without spilling any of it, so once he's parked and collected all the things he needs for the day, he gets out of the car, unlocks the door because he's almost always the first person to arrive, and rushes to clock in and rinse the container to use as a seedling pot for the many greens they need growing in the back room.

Well, that's it.

That's his morning.

He'll spend the rest of it restocking the arrangement area because nobody else that works mornings here is tall enough to safely reach the cellophane rolls that they keep on top of the cabinets. He's the newest person at the shop so he's left with the grunt work most of the time, but he doesn't mind it—it's easy enough, and he knows he's not artistic enough to really be trusted with arrangements (on his own, at least; some of the younger associates will ask him for his help when making bouquets with "old people" in mind, and he doesn't have the heart to, one, turn them down, and, two, tell them that twenty-seven really isn't old at all).

He checks the schedule as he passes by to get his apron, seeing that it's Monday, and that Yaga's posted up a checklist of the things they need done for the week. There's also a longer list naming all the people who'll come and go throughout the week (which isn't really what Nanami expected when he first started working here, but he's picked up fairly quickly that it takes a village and more to keep a flower shop running, so doesn't really give it much thought anymore). There's a few names he recognizes, others that he doesn't, but he should know everyone that's coming in today, at least.

While Nanami's filling up a smaller bucket at the sink to have a well to draw from and water the greens, someone comes in through the back door, and Nanami looks over his shoulder to see Ino, arms full with coffee for himself, his laptop, and a few other miscellaneous gadgets. He's probably the person Nanami's worked the most with here (at least, if he excludes the time he spends trying to explain derivatives to Itadori; the boy is hopeless, but Nanami admires his determination regardless).

"Ah, good morning, Nanami!" Ino exclaims, rushing to put his things down anywhere he can.

Nanami lifts his hand to greet the younger man back. "Morning."

"Closing go okay yesterday?"

He nods, leaning over to turn off the faucet. "It was fine."

Ino doesn’t ask any other questions and just puts on his own apron, comes over to the sink, and offers to help take out the bucket so Nanami doesn’t spill it while it’s full. The blonde gives him a tight-lipped smile as he grabs onto the opposite end so Ino can hold onto the other side, and the two near effortlessly lift it out of the tub. After that and another smile, Ino leaves him to himself to go check for any orders that might've been placed during last night's non-working hours. Nanami isn't anywhere near the level of floristry where he can accurately fulfill an order like that anyway, so he's just glad that Ino's there and can handle them while Nanami does the grunt work and waits for more people to come in.

Regardless, there’s no real rush to get a move-on, seeing as nobody’s exactly rushing to get flowers on a Monday at seven in the morning, so the two men work in silence while more people cycle in through the door and get clocked in. Ordered arrangements ranging from personal bouquets to larger fulfillments of wedding orders and funeral flowers are put together at the designing stations while Nanami works in the background, picking up phone calls, updating order statuses, making sure customers are tended to.

Even though it's hardly peak times, there's still far too much to do, though, and Nanami finds himself running around earlier than he'd expected himself to be. It's really a blur of things that happen once the initial line gets built up at the front of the store: foam needs to be presoaked practically every other minute, people keep needing help at the register, someone needs to sign off on a delivery, and it's usually the blonde sent off to do those things.

And, just like that, the morning has eclipsed.

Like clockwork (because, well, it is clocked work), the morning workers swap out with those who come later in the day, and this is usually when Nanami takes his lunch because there's not really any other time that's going to work. Any earlier, and there's going to be so many people coming in and out of the break room that the ambiance he needs to enjoy his meal is ruined, and any later, he'll be too full for dinner in the evening and his whole routine will be pushed back.

After grabbing his lunch from the minifridge in the break room and heating it up in the barely-working microwave, Nanami sits by himself and soaks in the quiet that's barely given to him with the thin walls and the loud chatter between some of the younger, high school-aged employees that've just clocked in after coming out of class. He almost always takes his lunch alone because everyone else orders out and Nanami doesn't quite have the budget to get takeout five days a week, but, occasionally, Ino will invite him out, and even though Nanami will only come along if there's the promise of a comfy booth to sit in and ease the pain in his feet, he usually has it in him to do that every once in a while.

Ino has class on Mondays, though, so Nanami's taking it alone today.

Again.

But that's par for the course.

He'd eat lunch alone in his old cubicle, too, and he supposes not much has changed about him in the three months since he's swapped work environments.

As he pokes at the broth-soaked rice, he leans against his palm. He hasn't got much of an appetite, what with the smell of fertilizer and sap in just the next room over, but he eats anyway because he hasn't got much of a choice in the matter. He'll get off work a bit earlier today than he did yesterday because he doesn't need to handle the bookkeeping every single day, but he knows he'll be just as tired and that he'll have to at least stay energized enough to survive the early-evening rush of less-than-respectable men who want to buy the cheapest flowers they can for their wives at home—he'd envy them if he didn't find them so deplorable.

Just as he's putting the tupperware lid over his now-emptied container, someone comes through the fabric curtain after knocking on the doorframe.

"Hey, stopping by to ask if you'd like us to bring anything back for you," Kugisaki chimes in. "We're getting dumplings from the place down the street!"

Nanami looks up at the girl from his seat and raises his hand in gentle refusal. "It's alright, thank you for offering."

"You sure? We don't mind paying, you help us with our homework all the time."

"'Us,' as in, 'you and Itadori,' don't include me in this," the younger Fushiguro scolds, passing through the break room to refill his water bottle. "Good afternoon, Nanami."

Nanami waves at him with a gentle smile. "Afternoon to you too, Fushiguro."

"Yeah, yeah, nerd, me and Itadori've got it covered," Kugisaki rolls her eyes at her friend, then turning back to address Nanami. "C'mon, you really don't want anything? They have great gyoza!"

"I'm fine, I already ate. You kids go ahead and-"

"Are we ready to go yet? I'm starving-" the pink-haired boy pauses, eyes landing on Nanami as he gets up to put his lunch container away. "Oh, hi Nanamin! Sorry I didn't greet you when I clocked in, I had to help out someone in the front."

"No worries, good afternoon."

"Hey, what'd you get on the bio test earlier?"

"Better than you, that's for sure."

"Hey! How's that possible, we used the same study guide!"

"I got help from Maki during lunch."

"No fair! I had a club meeting!"

Itadori and Kugisaki bicker between themselves as Nanami joins Fushiguro at the sink to wash his dishes, and the younger ravenette passes him the bottle of dish soap. "Here."

"Oh, thank you."

Fushiguro grabs a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe the run-off from his water bottle, frowning slightly with what looks like embarrassment. "Sorry, we'll be on our way out soon."

Nanami hums as he scrubs at the tupperware. "No rush." Not that he minds their presence in the first place, they're good kids, even if two of the three are a bit... scatterbrained.

After he gets all the leftover suds off, Nanami flicks his wrist to get off the excess water and leave it on the drying rack, and his eyes follow Fushiguro as he joins his friends at the door.

"Well, see you in a bit!"

The young man smiles gently while waving goodbye to the trio, then turning back to the sink to wash his hands. Their voices, loud and chipper as they talk amongst themselves, fade out as they leave through the back door, which closes loudly behind them.

It must be nice to be so... carefree.

Nanami dries his hands with the last bit of clean fabric of his apron, and he gets back to work.

Now that it's later in the afternoon, his tasks shift from prep and phone calls to helping out more at the front. Famously, he's never been a man of many words, but that hardly matters when customers seem to flock to him anyway for help picking out bouquets and other miscellaneous gifts to buy and bring home. He still does his fair share of running around, trying to make himself useful, but, nevertheless, to keep the rest of his colleagues from having to direct their attention to the more run-of-the-mill business when they have other, more pressing projects to take care of, Nanami keeps a smile on his face as he directs people to what he can only guess they're looking for. The younger trio come back from their meal somewhere in-between all that, and the day passes by both quickly and slowly with how much has to be done to keep the place running. He has more than enough breaks throughout the day to decompress in the freezing cold quarters, but somehow his legs are still screaming at him and he's hardly got a second to breathe meaningfully.

But, thankfully, he's not closing today, so as soon as the clock strikes a modest six in the evening, Nanami's hanging up his apron and reaching for his keys in his pocket. He waves goodbye to anyone awake enough to realize he's even leaving (which, truthfully, isn't that many people because closing really is draining enough on its own, even if it isn't so late that nobody ever really ends up staying past eight or so), and he sits in his car until he's sure he's confident enough he can drive safely and with enough feeling in his feet that he'll be able to feel the pedals.

As he's driving home, his hands drift to the twelve and seven, too lazy to keep themselves at the disciplined two and ten. His mind drifts off to think about the routine he's grown into over the past three years, more-so because there's not much else to think about, less-so because it's too daunting to think of much else while he's behind the wheel, until, just as the sun's hitting his pupils, he wonders if it'd be worth the effort to try again today—to make the quick, quiet drive over to the bakery, step out of the car, and pick out something sweet to bring home and eat with what's going to inevitably be a boring, tasteless meal.

Would it really be worth the effort?

...

Would it?

It's hard to tell. Between all the other decisions he'll have to make today, choosing from the mundane and the even more meaningless, this one thing seems to hang over him, taunting him with the promise of something too good for him and something equally not good enough for him.

He'd already been let down yesterday. His car still faintly smells of the coffee that marred his chance at something that'd make him a tiny bit happier, and he doesn't know how much more dull heartbreak he can endure. His body aches enough with the burden of work and the surreal, sinking feeling that he's doing nothing worthwhile with his life, even after putting everything on the line to change that.

At the same time, he's taken a lot; a moment more of it isn't going to hurt him anymore than not doing anything at all. He's a third of a decade into desire, and he's survived keeping the one thing he can depend on actually making him happy away at arm's length for this long.

...

Sure, then.

It'd be worth the effort.

And, just like that, as soon as he's made the decision to make the tiny detour on the way home to stop by a bakery that has no more promise than what his own imagination has given itself, that feeling is back.

He feels like he's breathing in cinnamon as he follows the curve of the road, cautious to not take such deep breaths but unable to keep in the quiet excitement. The sun glares at him through his windshield, but he can hardly feel bothered by it—he'll rue it later as he's biting into a bread bun in about a half-hour's time. The moon, present in the sky in time to kiss the sun across the clouds, looks like an almond wedding cookie, dusted and deepened with craters marked like dimples. His mouth is starting to water, and as he kisses his teeth, he can feel himself smiling.

It's almost maddening, how... easy it seems to feel happy.

Is that the right way to describe this feeling? Happiness?

It's such a fickle feeling, so easy to pull out of thin air. Practically a figment of his imagination as it stitches itself into a quilt quietly in his passenger seat.

And, like the universe wants to teach him a lesson, it's taken away from him just as suddenly.

His phone starts ringing, and, already connected to the car's sound system, Nanami sees no reason not to answer as he pulls into the adjacent parking lot for the bakery. The call's coming from his landlord, but he 

"Hello?"

The voice on the other line belongs to someone he doesn't know. "Good evening, is this Nanami?"

No reason to expect that his landlord has his contact saved when there's dozens of other tenants. "Yes, any particular reason you're calling?"

"Yes, just phoning you to let you know that your unit won't have water in about two hours or so. There's an issue with the plumbing on your floor and we have people coming to fix that soon, but it shouldn't take too long to get it resolved."

Great. That's exactly what Nanami wants to hear right now. "How long do you think it'll be out?"

"A couple hours, at most. Maybe three or four? We're really sorry, but we'll be covering the repair fee and as much of the floor's utility bill as we can for the month, so we hope it isn't too much of an inconvenience."

Well, if anything at all, at least his landlord's reasonable enough to provide adequate compensation.

He sighs as he weighs out the options he has in his head.

He can either stay here, spend the next half-hour or so getting a few pastries and breads to take home and eat in an otherwise soulless apartment, twiddling his thumbs until the water comes back on so he can shower and get the infinite layers of dirt and plantwater off his skin while he fights off sleep and exhaustion long enough to make it back to a clean bed, or, he can rush home, make dinner quickly enough to be able to have running water to even wash the dishes with before the food dries onto them, shower, and go to bed earlier than he usually does.

It's not a hard decision to make. He knows he has to choose the latter; he's too tired to wait out the repair time, and he'll just end up spread out on the floor to keep the furniture from sullying anyway and tomorrow will be made that much worse with the knowledge that he's choosing a chance at happiness over the convenience of what he knows will always work.

Still, it doesn't make it any easier.

"Hello?"

Nanami blinks himself out of his thoughts, and he clears his throat while looking around his car to make sure it's safe to back out. "Yes, I'm still here. Thank you for letting me know."

"Again, so sorry for the inconvenience, but it should be resolved soon. Let us know if you need any further assistance."

"Sure. Thank you, have a good evening."

"Thank you, you-"

Nanami hangs up before the other line can finish, and he frowns as he turns the engine back on again and puts his hand on the gear shift.

Maybe another day, then.

Maybe, then, he can forget this faint pinch at his heart that's begging to be taken care of.

🔅

Third time's the charm, people say. That, on the third go-around at something, it'll work out all fine and dandy.

Well, they're just plain wrong.

Nanami groans into the palm of his hand, head downturned and elbow digging into his chest.

"What do you mean 'closed for repairs?'" He whispers to himself.

He'd waited. He'd been patient. He'd been easy on himself. It's been three years, three months, and three days of trying to get something from this small, out-of-the-way bakery.

And, still, somehow, all that waiting has amounted to nothing.

He can feel the stares of people passing by, slowing their paces to watch him wallow in the small self-afforded agony he's ended up in. People walk around him, but he's very self-aware of the fact that he's so tall that he'll attract attention no matter what situation he's in, so he just stands firm where he is and accepts that his shame is palpable enough to be seen by strangers who've caught him in such an unfortunate state. He can't really bring himself to move out of the way, feet already at the foot of the ramp leading up to the door, so he just breathes slowly as disappoint seeps from his veins.

The sticky note hung up on the walls of his heart falls with the realization that it's about as useful as a whisk for water. It's a simple affair, one that starts and ends immediately with the event unfolding at his feet, but one that still pains him all the same.

He supposes that he can't really even be mad at anyone but himself for making it all the way out here without checking if it was even open. He'd made the decision to come out here on his day off, all other errands accounted for and completed, on a complete whim, so it's really his fault that he wasn't careful enough in planning the one thing he's actually been trying to do for the last 

He's not even sure why he's so fixated on making this happen right soon. It seems like, for so long, it'd escaped his mind—the desire to explore the bare remnants of what he remembers making him happy—and, now, he can't find himself to commit to anything else.

Is he such a failure that he can't even do this one thing right?

He knows he'll have to move out of the way and go home at some point. There's nothing he can do other than admit defeat.

There's no fanfare. No parade to tell him that he's at least tried. Not like he even really wants there to be one, but what's there to even accompany the effort he's put into the very simple, asinine. meaningless desire to get something from this bakery?

...

Can he really even call it effort?

All he has to show for this desire is a spilled coffee stain on his car console, a new stitch on his shirt, and uncomfortably pitiful looks from what feels like the entire population of this wretched city.

...

Well, that's alright.

He hasn't got much to show for anything else, anyway. This can't shake him; he won't let it.

If nothing else, he has enough hope that things will sort themselves out, and he'll get what he wants one day. That's what he's banking on with every other aspect of his life, anyway.

That, maybe, one day, he'll get to try something from here.

His feet move on their own, dragging him back to his car and through a sea of bodies he know are judging him. But he'll find himself here again, under better circumstances, someday later. Even if it isn't true, he has to tell himself that to keep at least something in his life worth moving on for.

That, maybe, one day, he'll change enough to be okay with disruptions to his routine.

He clicks on the ignition in his car after gingerly putting on his seatbelt, and he hooks his arm over onto the backside of his passenger side headrest to back out the parking space. His foot hovers over the brake pedal until he's fully matched up with the mirrors of the cars next to him, and he just about runs off when he's shifted into drive. He isn't sure how to get to the next place he needs to go to avoid traffic and construction work on the road, and it's working up enough of a sweat to think that this is yet another thing that's off about his day, as if it isn't already enough as it is. But, someday later, he'll be better at not feeling this way. Even if isn't true, he has to tell himself that to not let the feeling regress into a scarier apathy towards change.

That, maybe, one day, he'll be able to face himself at the end of the day with the thought that what he's doing with his life is worth not being able to enjoy a piece of bread he can't be sure is even good until then.

He makes it back to the apartment, cleans up around the place, makes a tasteless dinner for one, takes a shower that's too long. He's worked all day today, so it's fine that he stands under the running, steaming water for a near-hour, wishing he could be anyone else, anywhere else. He slips into bed, hair still wet because he doesn't care enough to wait for it to dry, and he stares up at the ceiling to pray that sleep will come fast enough to give him an out in having to think about what he's really doing with his life. But, someday later, this won't be the case, and he knows he can finally watch the stars without shame on his balcony. Even if it isn't true, he has to tell himself that to not feel so ashamed about not being able to have the one thing in life he thinks could complete him.

That, maybe, one day, he'll be happy.

He'll come home at the end of the day to a home, well-loved and filled with pastries afforded by the wealth of a career he knows he's allowed to be proud of. His feet will not ache, he won't wish for something he doesn't know he wants, and he can sleep at night knowing that there's more to life than the mundane and the meaningless. Even if it isn't true, he has to tell himself this so he has something to hold onto. What else is there to drive him? He's already trialed the life he dreamt of, and that wasn't enough, so this lie has to be.

Yeah, one day he'll have the world, and he'll be content.

One day.

🔅

(next update will be sep 14! thank you for reading :D)

[ghostofskywalker]

Your writing is amazing thanks so much for sharing!

For the winter ficlets how about “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.” With a gender neutral reader and Kix?

No pressure though thank you!

this was so fun, thank you for the prompt!!

words: 1,035

summary: Kix startles you awake in the medbay by accident. He just wants to make sure you get the rest you need.

Long Hours Make For Tired Jedi Healers

clone troopers masterlist || request a winter ficlet!

As Kix stepped into the Resolute’s medbay for his shift, he stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on you. Your overall presence in the space wasn’t a surprise, as he had known that you were here on the ship, but he had never seen a Jedi sleep before, and especially not the one that he had a little crush on.

For someone that fought tooth and nail to ensure that all clone medics had all the tools they could ever need on their flagships and that there was a mandatory cap on how many hours someone could work in a row without at least a sixteen hour break, you were terrible at following your own advice. The amount of time you had spent in this very chair was completely unknown to him, and he knew that it was probably way longer than you were going to admit.

The three patients in the medbay that you were technically watching over were also fast asleep, and Kix was grateful that life had slowed down a little for now. Of course the galaxy was still at war, and would be for the foreseeable future, but he still liked to take advantage of the times when his stress levels began to come down.

It was no shock that you had fallen asleep, especially with how your life was going at this point in time. Because you had some healing experience under your belt by the time the war broke out, you spent most of your time bouncing between battalions rather than working with a consistent group of soldiers, helping overworked medics in any way you could. Kix was always incredibly grateful for the time he spent with you, and not only because you were an incredible healer. He knew that developing feelings for a Jedi was never going to end in anything but heartbreak, but he could never help it with you.

Torn between wanting to let you sleep and also thinking that you would benefit the most from this nap if it took place in a bed rather than a chair, he took a few steps towards you, intending to wake you in the gentlest way he possibly could, but those plans were shattered when he accidently tripped over his own feet, only catching himself by throwing his arms out to grab onto the desk (that you were resting your head on).

Your head shot up instantly, and a somewhat crazed look took over your features as you grabbed the first thing you could find in order to use it as a weapon.

You were probably going for your lightsaber, but it just so happened that your datapad was actually the closest item. The image Kix saw was nothing but comical, especially given the fact that GAR-issued technology was incredibly fragile and wouldn’t at all make for an effective weapon. “Kix!” you said as you took in the situation, your face shifting as embarrassment took over your features. “I’m so sorry, you just startled me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a smile. “But I will say, I’ve never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

A soft scoff left your mouth as you shook your head, the absurdity of the situation finally clicking in your mind. “Yeah, I don’t know what I thought was going to happen when I grabbed it.”

“I’m sorry for waking you like that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to throw myself against the table.”

“It seems we’re both a little bit of a mess today,” you laughed. “I won’t hold it against you, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” he said, a smile growing on his face (as one always did when he spoke to you). “You should go get some rest.”

To others, those words might have seemed like he was trying to push you out of the room, but he never meant it that way. Wanting to make sure the people he cared about took care of themselves was so ingrained in Kix’s personality that he barely noticed when the instinct took over, and you were absolutely one of those people (and not only because he knew that you rarely put your own needs before anyone else’s).

And as he suspected, you weren’t about to start doing that now. “No, I’m fine,” you said. “I should be around to help if you need me.” He raised his eyebrows at you, and he must have succeeded in getting across some of his emotions, because you spoke again, this time with a slight defensive tone to your voice. “What if something happens?”

“We are in so far away from any planet that I think you can get some rest for a few hours,” Kix said. “You know I’m a fully trained medic, right?”

Your eyes widened as you took in his implication. “I’m not suggesting- I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t mean it like that, I promise,” he laughed, cutting off your frantic words. “But I can tell that you’re tired, so you need to get some rest.”

Something about his tone (or maybe it was his expression) must have clicked in your mind, because you just nodded before beginning to gather your things from the desk. “You can comm me if you need anything, and I’ll be here-”

“I will let you know if there is some kind of emergency,” he said, even though he doubted it would ever happen. “Now please, can you go and get some rest? For me?”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around him for a moment, and Kix relished in the feeling of your closeness (even if it was over way quicker than he wanted it to be). “I will,” you said softly. “But-”

He just looked at you, clearly pretending to be annoyed .“Go!”

You echoed his teasing tone. “Fine!”

Soon Kix was once again the only waking person in the medbay, and he faced a long shift ahead of him, but he didn’t really mind being alone for a little while. He certainly didn’t want to admit how much your short hug had affected him, and he just hoped that you were truly getting the rest you so desperately needed. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[poraphia]

"A High School Reunion."

Chapter 02 of "If You Look At Me, I'll Listen To You."

➵ PAIRING! clinic!civillian!wilbur x hero!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.1.23 | 3191 words

➵ CONTAINING! lovers to strangers, hero society (dream team + karl), tommy being a teasing prick

➵ SAYING! thank you for the support on the first chapter! i loved everyone's responses and input and seriously i would love to see more! if youd like to be a part of a taglist message my inbox! :DD

my masterlist and chapter 01

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey, Quacks, how’s the work been treating you?”

I spun around my office chair before kicking up my boots on my desk. It was another slow day the Hero’s Tower. Well, at least for me.

“It’s been going fine. It gets a little hard running a whole casino though, I’ll tell you that much.” He lightly chuckled through the phone.

I’ve known Quackity for a few years now. We attended university together after I moved out of my old neighborhood and into a small town just South of L’manburg city. Quackity was my dorm neighbor. We started talking to each other after I was fed up with all the ruckus I heard through the wall. When I learned that him and some strangers were doing a bit of Poker, I figured why not join. I didn’t stay in contact with those other people, but Quackity, we clicked too easily to let each other go.

“Sounds fun. Hope you’re not stressing too much. Maybe the next time I see you, you’ll be all wrinkly and tired all the time.” I joked, a sly smile on my face.

“Oh, that won’t be happening anytime soon!” He laughed. “Seriously, I got this.”

“—Hey, (y/n).” I looked up from my desk only to be met by Sapnap’s firey gaze. “You got a moment?” He quickly glanced at my phone before returning his eye on me. “We’re having a mini meeting, and we need you in on this one.”

That’s… Strange. I’m usually not called to Hero meetings.

“Oh, uh—” I sat up properly. “—Sure. Just let me wrap up this call.” I said. Sapnap nodded before walking out of my office.

“Need to go?” Quackity asked through the phone.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said reluctantly. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong with the last interrogation? “I’ll talk to you, alright, Q?”

“Of course, just let me know whenever you’re free. I’ll catch you later, (y/n).”

“Yeah, see ya!”

I clicked off my phone, sliding it down my pocket.

Oh God.

What’s going on?

I was able to locate the meeting room pretty swiftly. Through the window I saw George, Karl, Sapnap, and Clay. Karl, with his usual bubbly energy, waved at me through the glass. I smiled in return before hiding myself behind the wood door. Through my nostrils I took one deep and steady inhale before slowly letting it go through my nose. Once I felt ready enough, I placed my hand on the cold silver handle, twisting it open to be greeted by the chilly room.

The room wasn’t too extravagent. The walls were painted a navy blue with a long wood table. The ends of the table had one chair while the side parts had two on each side. I decided to take my seat next to Karl with George in front of me and Clay at the end.

“So, you’re probably wondering why you’re here.” Clay started.

“Yeah,” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “This isn’t my usual setting, y’know.” Since my power is feared to be too dangerous, I’m usually working in the interrogation and detainment center. It was kind of pitiful thinking about how I’m more used to isolated rooms and gray colors with a criminal in front of me, rather than a nice cozy meeting room with my friends.

“Well… George, Clay, and I came up with a new fighting strat, and I think with your powers, we may finally put the supervillains out of business.” Sapnap grinned. I tilted my head a little.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Clay then stood up and walked behind George and Sapnap where a dry-erase board was located. The two of them turned around, attentive to what Clay had to say.

“Alright look, we already know the Syndicate is our supervillains.” Clay explained, drawing on the board. “Siren, Blade, and Zephyrus being the most threatening of them all. Especially when the three of them are together.” He wrote down their names before circling them all into one group. “I believe with our data now and enough studying, we can analyze their behavioral patterns, what their priorities are, etc.”

I nodded my head, a bit confused on where this was going. I looked over to Karl, who seemed just as confused as I was.

“So, what does this have to do with me?” I asked. Clay smiled, pointing at me with his marker.

“I was just getting to that.” He wrote my name on the board before turning back to face us. “If you could watch these main three—” he pointed at the board. “then you'll have enough information to make convincing enough hallucinations. Enough hallucinations, means more distraction as they fight, which means more wins for us!” he cheered.

I sat there, hands folded in my lap. All four of them had their eyes on me, expecting some sort of comment or response. “…So,” I broke the silence. “I'm basically like.. The secret weapon?”

Karl eagerly nodded as he pulled me closer with an arm. “Yeah! We're finally going to have you fighting with the big guys! Isn't that super cool?”

“Mhm,” George hummed. “You won't be stuck doing interrogations at the detainment center anymore. You’ll be on the battlefield!” He exlcaimed, a small smile on his lips.

This was a lot to take in at once. Frist, I had to stalk the three most dangerous members of The Syndicate for some time, then with enough information, I’ll finally be on the field going on missions?

“So, what do you think, (y/n)?” Sapnap asked, his hands folded on the table.

I looked at all the faces around me. It was barely clicking to me that I finally have the chance to be out there, with my friends, fighting against the villains. It was something I dreamed of doing ever since I moved back to L’Manburg.

“I’m in.” I said proudly.

What could go wrong?

After laying out some planning, I left the HQ and decided to take a bus to Eastside. Besides the Hero District and South Bay, I haven’t been around the other parts of the city, as least in civillian form. Mainly because I was looking to avoid a certain… Family. I haven’t seen the Soot family since I broke up with Wilbur that night. I felt too guilty of our actions, and frankly I swore I would never see Wilbur again after I moved away. Avoiding him in the neighborhood and in school was a hassle by itself.

Once I made it to Eastside, I hopped out of the bus and began walking to a familiar cafe. I figured if I was going to go out exploring, I should go to an area where it was least likely running into the Soots. I turned on my headphones, and began my walk. In my backpack I had my laptop and sketchbook where I was going to plan out my missions.

Once I looked up, realizing I was greeted by the huge sign that read “Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe.”

Alright, here we go.

I pushed open the door and immediately I was hit with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pasteries. I heard a loud gasp in front of me, and I was met by the familiar face of Foolish.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed, as he nearly hopping over the counter, I ran up to him and we engulfed in each other in a warm hug.

“Hey, Foolish! How have you been?” I smiled, pulling away.

“I’ve been doing okay! Still working at the cafe, as you can see!” He chuckled. “Where have you been all these years?! I haven’t seen you since graduation!” He asked, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“I left the city to go to University. I only moved back a few months ago but now I live in South Bay!” I smiled. He nodded, taking in my words before pulling away.

“Have you talked to…?” He trailed off, but I knew what he was talking about.

“I haven’t.” I lightly chuckled. “Not since he walked across that stage, but even then, I wasn’t even talking to him like that.”

Foolish tilted his head, a curious smile on his face. “Y’know, I still remember during graduation, you were literally screaming and cheering him on so loudly! But then you tried to shape up as if no one heard you!”

I laughed, punching him the shoulder. “Hey, shut up! Maybe I just got a bit carried away…”

“Mhmm,” He hummed. “Well, I’m about to clock out now and head to Eret’s place—”

As if on cue, two figures walked through the cafe doors.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

You’ve genuinely got to be fucking with me.

Two guys stood in front of us, but I only paid attention to one of their faces.

Those chocolate brown eyes stared back at me. Those eyes I fell in love with the moment I saw them for the first time. They were wide, and they didn’t stray away from mine. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he stopped himself.

“Hey Toms, hey Wil!” Foolish excitedly introduced. “Wilbur, you remember (y/n), right? She’s finally back in town—!” Before he continued, I kicked him in the foot, earning a loud yelp. He got the hint and backed away from the conversation.

“I— I got work to do.” I quickly mumbled. From the corner of my eye I saw Wil raise his hand out of protest, but I ignored it to hastily find a seat.

I found a duo seat next to the window. I placed my bag in one of the seats to take out my laptop and then sat in the other seat. I jolted my laptop open, somewhat smacking the keyboard impatiently to wake it up.

Ugh, stupid, stupid!

I put my head down, covering face with my arms. My leg shook rapidly from under the table. I shouldn’t have came here. I shouldn’t have came here at all. Who was I to think it would be safe to travel in this area anyway?! This was a stupid idea!

“You must’ve gotten ugly if she was going to run away that fast, man.” I heard a gruff voice snort followed by a sound of someone being shoved.

“T-That’s not true! I… Ugh… Just get to work, asshole.”

That familiar voice.

My heart fluttered at the sound of his deep voice. That deep voice that used to tell me how pretty I looked everyday and asked if I needed help with homework.

But it was the same voice that killed all those men, and maybe even more after that night.

I shook my head. Maybe a coffee would fix my racing thoughts.

I got up from my table and went up to the counter. There I met that boy that was standing next to Wil earlier. He had a red and white shirt under his barista apron. He and blue eyes and a mess of blonde flopped on the top of his head, but what was most distinguishing about his hair was that streak of white.

His eyes widened briefly before a sly grin formed on his face. “Welcome to Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe, what can I get you?” He asked.

“I’ll just have an iced caramel coffee.” I forced a smile on my face. He clicked on some things on the cash register before looking at me again.

“And what’s the name?” He asked.

“(y/n).” I said plainly.

“Alright, I’ll have your order done in a minute.” He said. I nodded, handing him my card. As he swiped in my order, I placed a decent amount of cash in his tip jar. He looked up a bit, a smile quirking up when he realized how much money I put in. “Jeez, dude, what job are you working?” He asked rather jokingly.

“Uhh,” I bit my tongue a bit to hold back my actual answer. “—criminal justice.” I exclaimed, which wasn’t technically a lie. The barista handed me back my card. “Thanks,” I glanced down to look at his nametag. “Tommy.” He nodded, and I headed back to my seat to begin my work.

My laptop had started up, welcoming me with my sunset background. I opened up my web browser and created a word document to jot down all my notes and plans on how I could start stalking the Syndicate. Should I be saying “stalking?” It sounds pretty vulgar. My main focuses had to be Siren, Blade, and Zephyrus. So I figured that maybe I should start with Siren, though that was sort of risky to get into. What was his superpower again..?

“Order for Wilbur and (y/n)!”

Oh, wow.

This kid had to be some kind of fucking troll.

I sighed, reluctantly standing up from my seat. I noticed that Wil was approaching as well, slow with his footsteps. I looked over to Tommy who had this devious grin on his face. Once I walked up to the counter, I noticed that only Wil’s order was on the counter. It had to be either a flat white or a hot coffee with four shots of espresso.

“Here you go, (y/n). Iced caramel coffee.” Tom said, personally handing the beverage to me.

“Knew it…” I heard a soft voice whisper to himself.

He… Remembered my order?

“Thank you, Tom,” I smiled. He nodded, and I headed back to my seat. I took a sip of my coffee to cool down the heat that was rising to my cheeks before continuing my work. With careful listening, I could hear a bit of Tom and Wil’s bickering from the counter.

“Why the fuck would you do that?!” Wil whisper shouted.

“Look, man, they seemed interested! They were staring at your coffee order and mumbling something. Probably knows your order too.” Tom chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t do that again, I’m serious!” Wil was practically begging at this point. I resisted the urge to turn around to look at the two. Instead kept my eyes on my screen.

“Okay, okay,” Tom reassured. “I’ll stop. But seriously man, you need to tell me about this when we get home.”

The argument ended there, and though I continued on with my work, the conversation sat in my mind like a brick. My fingers tapped against my laptop, creating rows of writing then sectioning them off into tables. I even enforced this new routine into my daily planner, blocking specifically when I would be working at the station to when I would be learning information about the Syndicate. I stayed in the cafe for another hour until I was finally content with my planning for the next couple of weeks.

With a content sigh, I finally closed my laptop. I looked around, realizing that the cafe was barely occupied. Wil was in another corner with a book whereas Tom was cleaning the espresso machine. I got up, stretching my legs and arms before taking my laptop and sliding it into my backpack. As I was zipping up my backpack, I felt a pair of eyes behind me, but I chose to ignore them. I slid my arms into the straps and fixed my hair behind me. When I turned around, I realized that it was Wilbur who was staring at me. His nose immediately buried into his book once we made eye contact. A small scoff escaped my lips, and I approached Tom at the counter for the final time.

“Hey, Tommy. Just a strawberry cheesecake to go please.” I said, sliding over a $10 bill. “Keep the change as a tip.”

“Coming right up, (y/n).” He placed the bill inside then counted the money before placing it into his tip jar. He then went to the back to grab a plastic container that had a piece of cheesecake drizzled in strawberry syrup with slices of strawberry on the side. “Here you are. You leaving for the day?” He asked, quickly glancing away before returning his eyes on me. I took the container of dessert before smiling.

“Yeah, it’s getting late. Don’t want to be out especially during criminal hour.” I lightly chuckled. Tom nodded, as if understanding.

“Alright, stay safe out there.” He waved. I said my goodbyes before heading toward the door. As I took another step, I heard footsteps approaching me.

“W-Wait.” I turned around, only to be met with a white button up shirt with light blue-gray stripes.

I looked up, and there he was.

His jaw was more defined than it was when we were kids. His hair was more poofy and grew curlier over the years. It was obvious he had grown out of his rounded features. Even his eyes were more narrow. But I knew those freckles scattered all over his face and how his pink lips formed a symmetrical cupid’s bow.

We both stared at each other in silence. One hand gripped at my backpack strap tight while the other clutched at my plastic container.

“Yes?” I asked. It was blank and straight forward, not letting any form of emotion seep through my words.

“I-I just… Well, it’s good to see you in town again.” He said, his hands slightly fidgeting. I noticed that his button up was rolled up to his elbows. His arms were a little bigger than what I remember and his chest looked more built with a curve to his torso. He was also taller. He used to be only a few inches taller than me due to malnourishment. He looked healthier and stronger— Much better than when he did when we first became friends. It made my heart skip a little.

“Oh— Uh. It’s nice to see you too. Sorry, I’ve just been super busy since I moved back into town.” I briefly explained, but even then, I felt like such an idiot for explaining in the first place.

“Oh.” He muttered.

We stared at each other again, not talking. The air felt thick and full of pressure. My heart searched for that familiar comfort in his prescence but it was no use.

“I… I should get going now.” I said, slightly gesturing to the door.

“Right— Uh… I’ll see you around?” He asked, a little glimmer in his eyes as if hopeful. A bit of me ached seeing him so desperate.

“Uh, yeah.” I quickly said without thinking. What? “Yeah, I’ll see around.”

I turned around and pushed open the glass door. The cold breeze slapping me in the face.

Holy shit.

Did I just talk to Wilbur Soot?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ this was mainlyyy about lore for the reader. but dw the next chapter is going to be alll about siren dont even worry about it. notes of all kind are super appreciated especially reblogs!!

[peterdarlingg]

I Don’t feel so good

paring: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Working all day has got you exhausted and Tom has to help take care of you.

Warnings: mentions of a bit of nausea, dizziness, a bit of angst and eating habits? Bad editing,typos probably (Let me know if I missed anything)

A/n: posting another fic? How’d that happen? Anyway this idea kinda just came to me and I made myself sit down and finish it. Gif by @manny-jacinto I hope you enjoy and let me know how it is. 🩷

You’d just finished work and exhausted didn’t do justice to how you were feeling.

It was a Saturday but your boss had insisted on extra tasks that needed to be done and delivered on Saturday night.

So even though it was a weekend, it didn’t feel like it to you.

Tom had been out the whole day because he had plans with the boys. He had been planning it for a while because he has been so busy, but he felt horrible leaving you in the morning.

You told him that you had a lot of work to do anyway so it would be better for him to go out with his friends and have fun.

He complied but still felt guilty.

So come sunset, you were done but oh how tired you were.

Tom had called you about 30 minutes ago and told you he’s on his way home, so you guessed that he’s probably going to arrive any second now.

When Tom walked in he wasn’t expecting to see you in the kitchen, moving so slow that he was a bit concerned. You were making- or attempting to make a sandwich it looked like. But your movements looked slow and sluggish.

When you heard the apartment door close you knew it was Tom but didn’t have the energy to say hello. That’s how bad it was.

You felt like you were moving in slow motion and you couldn’t hold you head up anymore.

“Y/n hi, I’m home.” Tom said walking to you cautiously.

“Hm,” you hummed unable to form words.

“Hey are you okay?” He asked you putting a hand in your back to steady you when you swayed a bit.

“I’m okay,” your words slurring a bit.

Tom was beyond worried now. Looking at you he saw your face white as a sheet and sweat was dripping down your forehead.

Then it clicked into his mind.

“Baby have you eaten today?”

“…no,” you whispered.

“I knew it, dammit y/n” he thought.

You had a bad habit of not eating when you were stressed or simply had a lot of work to do. You just simply forgot to take care of yourself when you get this pressured.

It’s the simplest of tasks like drinking water or having breakfast that you neglected at times like these.

“Sweetheart nothing?” He asked worriedly, looking into your eyes that were dropping down.

You shook your head before mumbling “I don’t feel good,” your knees starting to give out.

Tom carried you to the couch to get you to sit down.

“It’s okay baby, we just need to get you something to eat okay, then you’ll feel much better.” He caressed the side your face before kissing your temple gently.

Just as be was leaning back to go get you some food and water you came forward and held his arm hard.

“No, don’t leave me,”’ you whined.

“I wasn’t going to love, I was just gonna get you food so you can feel better,” he explained you, intertwining your fingers with his and caressing his thumb on your knuckles before giving it a gentle kiss.

“No, don’t leave, I don’t feel good,”

“I know love, that’s why you need food right now your body needs food to have energy.”

“I’m hot,” you whispered, not hearing him as you tugged at your hoodie that you were swearing through, feeling faint.

Breathing heavily you tugged at your hoodie taking you arms out and taking it over your head then chucking it behind you somewhere.

“Love, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he held either side of your face and found you hair tie on the coffee table,taking it putting your hair up in a messy bun.

“I’ll be right back okay?” He said as he got up.

“No…” you whispered getting up shakily to get him to stay. But you swayed and almost fell over. “Y/n, Y/n,” Tom caught you and set you down on the couch,”

“No, I wanna lay down,” you told him as you pushed his hands away, putting your head on the couch pillow and closing your eyes.

“No, love, love you need to sit up,” he said trying to get you to regain a bit of consciousness.

“No, want to sleep, don’t feel good,”

Tom sighed and went jogged to the kitchen to get you some food and water quick as you were actually fainting now.

“Okay here love,” he grabbed your waist and to lift you up and supported your neck with his other hand to get you to sit up.

“Mmhmm,” you mumbled tiredly.

“I know love, I know,” he cooed.

“Here lovie, drink,” he held the water bottle to your lips to drink but you turned your head.

“Baby, you need to drink something,” he insisted.

“Uh uh,” you shook your head as much as you could. “Lovie I know you don’t feel good but it’ll help,” he encouraged.

He started to panic as you weren’t letting him help you and you were deteriorating, face pale and sweaty.

“I feel nauseous, can’t drink,”

“Baby, I know, it will go away if you drink come on,” he put the bottle to your lips again and this time you compiled, taking a sip then pulling away shaking your head.

“Come on love, few more sips,” he encouraged you.

He helped you drink again holding the water bottle to you mouth as you couldn’t move your arms that were draped next to you.

“There you go lovie, you got this,” he smiled.

He grabbed the sandwich he finished for you and held it out for you to take.

But once again you just shook your head because no way you were going to eat a sandwich feeling nauseous.

“Darling-“

“No I can’t please don’t make me,” you cried out, eyes tearing up.

Tom was quick to set the plate down and sit next to you taking you into his arms, holding you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he cooed.

“You’re alright darling,” he kissed your hair and kept his mouth there.

Rubbing up and down your arms to calm you down. You were so out of it that you started to cry from how awful you felt.

“I’ll never not eat ever again,” you thought to yourself.

“Do you want to lay down a bit then eat?” Tom suggested.

He felt you nod against him and he pulled away before taking laying down with you on top of him cuddling you.

After a good 10 minutes of back scratches and forehead kisses, he thought he’d check in with you again.

“Hey, feeling a bit better?” He talked to you softly next to your ear.

He felt you nod against him, still not having enough energy to form words.

“You feel like you can eat now?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled tiredly.

“Okay let’s sit up okay?” He said as he sat up with you very slowly not to make you dizzy.

You were sitting on his lap, face hiding in the crook of his neck inhaling his comforting scent to calm down.

“Okay darling, here you are,” he grabbed the plate and held the sandwich to feed it to you as you still didn’t have enough energy to move he was moving you around like a rag doll really this whole time.

You carefully took a small bite of the sandwich he made, which you had to admit to yourself was good.

Chewing slowly you grabbed his wrist for another bite and he gave it to you.

“Doing amazing darling, good job,” he praised.

After about 5 to 10 minutes you finally finished the sandwich feeling much better.

“Can we just sit here for a bit? I’m still a bit dizzy,” you asked him.

“Yeah darling, course, whatever you want,” he held you and you wrapped your arms around his waist, finding comfort in his warmth.

Tom was feeling a bit better now that you were able to form a full on sentence without slurring your words together.

“We can get up now,” you said after a while.

“You feeling okay?” He asked still a bit concerned after what had just went down.

“Yeah, a little off but much better,” you answered , your voice still weak.

“I’m so sorry,Tom” you turned to him looking very apologetic and ashamed.

“Y/n, it’s okay, really,” “I was more worried than anything,”

“I know I just, it was a really bad day for me and I was so stressed that I wouldn’t be able to finish everything on time and I just forgot to eat anything really. I wasn’t hungry at all and I just forgot. I’m sorry,”

“Love don’t be sorry, we just need to work on this a bit, that’s all,” he smiled at you.

“I was a scared,” you admitted sheepishly and Toms’ heart tugged in his chest.

“I mean normally when this happens I just feel a bit dizzy but that’s it, I felt awful this time,” you quietly said.

“I know that was a bad one,” he said brows furrowed.

“But it’s alright,” he said cheerfully.

“Your okay now and that’s all that matters,”

“Just please try to work on taking care of yourself. I’ll help you as well, I’ll be there for you every step of the way until you don’t need me anymore,” he leaned in slowly and pushed his lips against yours breathing you in.

“I’ll always need you,” you whispered in between kisses.

Resting you forehead against his, you give him a chaste kiss.

“Okay,” you said excitedly.

“Now tell me all about today,” you told him cuddling into him looking up at him adoringly and kissing his jaw.

[hana-bobo-finch]

welcome to another episode of I Have a Bad Migraine and I Have Come Up With Something While Half Asleep That I Cannot Really Explain

~~

This is it.

The thought swam through Dingo’s clouded mind over and over. No other thoughts could come through. His mind was in a haze. He had fainted a few times already—he had felt a bit woozy for a few seconds and then came to a few feet away from where he last remembered being, in a heap on the ground. This had happened a couple of times already, but when he woke up from his most recent blackout he lacked the strength to stand back up. Was he really about to die thanks to his own impulsivity?

What a shame that Ohri’s brightest star burns out at such a young age. Oh, that’s deep. I should write that down.

His thoughts were clearing up a little as he began to regain full consciousness. Or maybe it was some sort of pre-death lucidity. He remembered Yonny talking about something like that like it was a fun little conversation starter. Oh, Yonny…he hadn’t thought of him yet. His thoughts, when clear enough to be coherent, mostly focused on his family. Well, ok, they mostly focused on his own survival and how sad it was that such a strapping young man would die so young…But after a good hour of wandering aimlessly with no sign of hope, he had accepted his fate and was mainly worried about how his family would cope. He hadn’t thought about Yonny, though. Not until now. Dingo wasn’t too worried about him, honestly. Maybe it was selfish, but Dingo felt more sorry for himself than he did for Yonny. Yonny would probably find a way to steal the recovered frozen corpse and grow a new Dingo in a lab somehow. But, Dingo, wherever he’ll end up when he dies, will be all alone. No family, no friends, no Yonny. He’ll only see him again whenever Yonny dies. Which, given Yonny’s occasional comments about wanting to solve the mystery of eternal life, probably won’t be any time soon. Somehow, that thought more than anything else, more than his impending doom and sore body, is what broke him. He curled in on himself and buried his head in his arms. He was too tired to cry, too tired to scream, too tired to feel anything but brokenness. He sat like this for what seemed like hours when a booming voice rang out over the mountains:

What’s up guys, Mr. Beast here, and today I’m going to be climbing this mountain and naming it after today’s sponsor, Shopify!

The words startled Dingo out of his stupor. He had no energy to look for the source of the sound. Even with the surprise, his heart was pounding worryingly slow, much different to his normally racing pulse at the slightest startle. Who was this Mr. Beast character? Was he some demon coming to drag him down to the underworld? Whatever the case was, the man continued speaking to his phone before seeming to notice Dingo.

How good was this beast’s vision…? Dingo was the size of the man’s eye, how had he noticed him? He must have the vision of a hawk. Terrifying. The Beast picked Dingo up, cupping him in his palm.

Cancel the video we had planned, he said to nobody in particular. This is all we need for our brand deal.

~~