#little mouse to put in my pocket

[several-mice]

i need beautiful alternative weirdo girlfriend who’s really into music in an unlabeled sort of relationship that has physical and emotional connection can anyone hear me

[tilebytiles]

i want to put alex in a jar and cover the top with plastic wrap and poke little holes into the plastic wrap and then put him in my cupboard and keep him there until he inevitably escapes like the housekeeper does in the secret world of arrietty

[barbaricjester]

Shout out to the little girl at my store today who had a shirt that said "skeleton mouse" and she was carrying around a plushie of a rat, had hair clips in her hair that had rats on them, and a necklace with a rodent skull on it.

As I was checking her mother out at the register she pulled out a handful of rubber rats from her pocket and put them on my counter, to which her mother sighed and said "no sweetie, he doesn't need rats" to which I just looked at her like this

[larkiethings]

so today at work one of my coworkers hands me a box

I have no context for this. He’s a 50? 60? Year old plumber who tends to walk into the office, tell a dad joke, and leave. I’ve just arrived at work and am still putting my purse away. So he hands me this box and says it comes with instructions. I open it and unfold this

He says his great grandma probably made it

This pansy is the tiniest pocket in the world

It could use some blocking after who knows how many years in the box but look at these sweet little pansies!

The pattern was clearly typed on a typewriter, several pages of it. I guess this was an apron specifically for having your friends over for tea.

I just happened to be wearing a skirt that kind of goes with it, so I did wear it all day (it’s a @mayakern skirt!) and another friend said I look like I should be living in a shoe. Perhaps as some sort of mouse girl making pastries for the other woodland creatures. But uhhhhh what an incredible heirloom piece to just be handed. It’s probably twice as old as I am. I’m definitely going to bring it to stitch circle this week

[kunasthiast]

pain scale

“so, on a scale of 1 to 10 – 1 being the lowest, obvs – how much did this hurt?” you pointed at your husband’s forehead tattoo. and honestly? It’s one of your favorites on the canvas of his greek god body.

still reading his book – the brothers karamazov (yes, he’s that guy) – sukuna answered with his signature arrogant tone, “tch, easy 2.”

“babe, are you sure?” you squinted at him. “or are just remembering the wrong pain?”   

“why wouldn’t I be? this is MY tattoo, brat,” sukuna scoffed, barely glancing up from his book. “and I’ve got a really high pain tolerance – unlike someone else.”

“you’re full of shit,” you puffed out your cheeks in protest, “well, I’ll prove you wrong one of these days.”

“yeah?” he snorted, finally putting the book down on his bedside table. Sliding his reading glasses (yes, he has reading glasses) to the top of his head, he turned to face you with a smug grin.

ignoring his smugness, you pointed at those thick, black bands wrapped around his wrists, “ok, so what about this one?” 

you actually loved this tattoo on him – it was giving that geometric-tribal-looking, bold vibe. but every time you ask him about its meaning, his answer was always the same: “I dunno, I just liked it on me”

he held out his wrists proudly, “easy 2.”

“this?!” you grabbed his right wrist like you were that offended on behalf of his skin with how low he is scaling the pain on his tattoos. “this is a 2?”

“yeah, with emphasis on easy,” he confirmed, crossing his arms like he’d just won a gold medal for being the toughest guy on earth.

“you’re insane,” you said as you stared at him like he’d grown two heads (more like arms), “are you even human?” 

“i told ya,” sukuna shrugged. “pain’s a choice, babe.”

“i know, but what the fuck? that’s like… right by your veins! youuur bones!”

“and?” he blinked at you, deadpan.

“you could’ve died?!”

“well, I’m still here, aren’t I?” he shot you that irritatingly smug grin. “now tell me… why are you suddenly so curious?”

“…nothing,” you muttered.

“oh c’mon,” sukuna was grinning wider now, scooting closer to your side of the bed, “what is it, baby? wanna tell daddy what you’re planning?”

“hmm…” you tapped your chin dramatically before leaning on his broad shoulders. “lemme think about it… nope.”

“you’re really gonna play this game?” he narrowed his eyes. 

you giggled and before you could escape, your husband tackled you onto the bed, pinning you beneath him as his warm laughter filled the room.

–––––----------------------------------------------------------------------

a few days later, you came home from a girls' day out with your best friend — tired, giddy, and sporting a suspiciously wrapped patch of second skin on your left wrist.

you tried to be sneaky, casually sliding your hand into your hoodie pocket the moment you stepped inside, but sukuna wasn’t stupid. he noticed you right away. he always does.

“what’s that?” he drawled from the couch, eyes narrowing.

“what’s what?” you shot back, feigning innocence.

“that.” his gaze flicked to your suspiciously hidden wrist.

“… nothing.”

“spit it out, babe,” he warned, closing and setting his book down on the couch — the brothers karamazov, because of course he was still reading that — and standing up.

before you could escape, sukuna had you cornered against the wall, tugging your wrist free like he was unwrapping a Christmas present.

“wait, wait, wait!” you squeaked like a little mouse, but it was too late. 

he peeled back your sleeve, revealing the fresh tattoo peeking out from under the second skin.

for a moment, sukuna just… stared. his face didn’t change, but his fingers ghosted over the fresh ink like he wasn’t sure if it was just a pen drawing or sticker or a real one. his thumb traced the crimson marking – it’s a mini replica of his forehead tattoo.

and you swore, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. surprise? softness? maybe a little bit of both!

then… he laughed. loud, smug, and way too pleased with himself.

“oh my god,” he barked between chuckles. “you really got it?”

“yeah,” you grumbled. “and don’t laugh — this shit hurt. don’t ‘easy 2’ me, that was a solid 8, maybe 9. felt like someone was carving my bones.”

“pfft,” sukuna scoffed. “it’s just a thousand ants biting you at once. that’s nothing.”

“oh, really?” you shot back. “then I hope you enjoy sleeping on the couch tonight.”

that wiped the smirk off his face for about three seconds before he grinned again — that obnoxious, smug grin that you really love and made you want to throw something at the same time.

“i told you I had a high pain tolerance,” he said smugly.

“you’re a liar,” you muttered. “there’s no way that was a 2.”

“well, now you’ve got my mark and a war story to tell,” sukuna teased, stepping closer. “guess that means you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“pfft,” you scoffed, folding your arms. “I was stuck with you before the tattoo, dumbass.”

“oh yeah?” his voice dropped lower as he leaned in. “then tell me... was it worth it?”

you opened your mouth for a snarky reply, but before you could speak, sukuna grabbed your wrist again — this time pressing his lips firmly to the fresh ink. his mouth lingered there, warm and deliberate, before he murmured:

“looks good on you.”

and damn it, even after 5 years of being married to this arrogant bastard, you’re still blushing.

[witherby]

Can mousey suck people into her shadows when they’re mad. Like I can just imagine dick cheating in their favorite game and standing to close to a shadow and they don’t let him out until they forget why they’re mad.(Or get persuaded otherwise)

They sure can!! Have a short and sweet one.

The Littlest Wayne: Time Out

"Now, you know what I'm about to ask you."

You sit with your legs and arms crossed on your bed, refusing to look at your father as he perches on the edge of it with a frown.

"Yes, he's perfectly safe. I know where he is. He can breathe and move around."

"Thank you for letting me know that," Bruce says, "but I was actually going to ask you to let your brother out."

"No," you huff. "He stole my diary again and didn't apologize. Now he gets to be in darkness until I say so."

"And that was very rude of him," Bruce sighs, "but, Mouse, you can't put your brother in your pocket dimension every single time he makes you mad. We have this conversation three times a month."

"He shouldn't make me mad three times a month!" You insist. "I take him out every ten minutes and ask if he's ready to say sorry. He just keeps trying to justify why he's snooping through my stuff so I keep putting him back in there!"

Bruce rubs his temples and sighs. "It's Tim's way of wanting to understand you better. He does it to all of us."

"Bet you wish you had a little pocket dimension to stuff him in when he does it to you, too."

"I'm not answering that. Please let him out."

You lift your hand, pulling the shadow of your nightstand further into the center of the room, and expand it. A hole appears and Tim's head pops out. He looks painfully amused as he looks at both you and Bruce.

"Well?" You demand.

"I didn't know you had a crush on Kon."

You suck Tim back into the hole and slam the shadow under your nightstand again, face bright red. Bruce hunches over and runs his hands over his whole face, sighing so heavily.

"Fatherhood is so rewarding," he mumbles to himself, like a mantra, as he feels his hair greying even faster. "There's no greater joy than childrearing. I love all my kids, not in spite of their flaws but regardless of them..."

[jeansjolly]

You stare at your manager a little too long. Who could blame you? He's just that hot. If you told yourself this just happened, you would've slapped yourself across the face.

☁︎ cw: office setting, smut, pwp, fem!reader, f!oralsex, tongue fuck, ass-eating, cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, getting fucked/eaten out from behind, he has a big dick, creampie.

☁︎ wc: 2.9k

☁︎ inspired by this audio

☁︎ a/n: sorry if it's a little messy, I did proofread by myself but ehh wtv, enjoy :)

— 18+, mdni

“Excuse me?” You inch closer to him, holding your laptop with both hands.

“Mhmm?” He nods, hands in his pockets, watching you as you approach.

Gosh. You want to just kiss him right now.

“So…” you trail off, fingers resting on the laptop’s mouse pad as you tilt the screen slightly toward him. “I’ve got just the right idea for how we should promote our upcoming products.”

You click a bit more on the screen. “I had a few discussions during our ‘unofficial’ team meeting, and they suggested we create more content on social media apps to engage customers. And as you can see…” You press play on the video on your laptop.

You show a draft of you and your team making videos to promote the products. His shoulders slump a little as he tries to focus on the screen, so you lift the laptop a bit higher. Your eyes flicker to his, and you almost cringe as he watches with full judgment.

With his body so close, you catch a whiff of his perfume– a hint of sandalwood and oud. The faint scent convinces you he definitely wears expensive fragrances.

He hums and circles his pointer finger over your screen. “This is neat. I’ll write the letter to the higher-ups.”

Your eyes widen. “No– it’s okay! That’s my job anyway. I’m just asking for approval, that’s all.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Hey, it’s fine! It’s a good idea. You’ve done your part.”

Your eyebrows scrunch as you begin to bicker with him. One thing about you, you definitely love to argue with your crushes.

He sighs and raises both hands in surrender. “Okay, how about this? Let’s do it together.”

That makes your mouth fall open slightly.

You chuckle nervously. “Are you even sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

He lifts a hand and gently places it behind your back, guiding you toward his corner office. Just the thought of entering his office makes your stomach twist– in a good way.

When you both reach his office, enclosed with glass walls, he twists the knob and you step inside. Once the door shuts, the sounds from outside become muffled and fade away.

He swivels his office chair toward you and gestures to the seat across from him. “Please.”

You hesitantly plop down into the chair, knowing full well that even if you try to argue, he’ll stay firm in his stance.

Now sitting beside you on a cushioned stool, he taps the spacebar on his keyboard to wake up his computer.

He grabs the mouse, dragging it across the desk as he clicks into Word. A few clicks later, a pre-made template appears on the screen.

Your eyes widen. No wonder he was so eager to write it for you– he already had a whole template ready.

“Geez,” you snicker. “No wonder you’re so eager to write this.”

He passes you the mouse, resting his cheek on his palm. “Been doing this for a while.”

You reach for the mouse, dragging it across the screen toward the template text.

What should have been a ten-minute task turns into forty minutes of non-stop bickering between you and him.

“That’s too casual,” You say plainly.

“You’re too casual. I’ve been–”

“‘I’ve been doing this for years,’” you cut in, lowering your voice to mimic him. “Just like you said. But in the end, I’m the one who has to put my name and sign it.”

He smirks. “Who says it’s going under your name?”

“Excuse me?” you exclaim, slamming your fist lightly on the desk– just enough to rattle a few things. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled the manager card on you yet, considering how often your voice rises when he snickers at your reactions.

You tilt your head toward him. He still has one hand on his cheek, grinning at you. Then, with his other hand, he curls his fingers outward toward the screen.

“Go on.” He says.

You sigh as you type. He leans over and asks, “When you write it in your own style, do the higher-ups actually approve it?”

Your fingers pause above the keyboard before you resume typing. “Sometimes. I mean, of course, they don’t agree with everything.”

He hums at your answer. Just as he gestures toward the screen and starts to speak, you cut him off.

“What? No, I’m not adding slang!”

“No,” he says, closing the distance between you and him as he points at the first row of names. “I should be listed first. I’m the manager, you know.”

There it is. This time, you give in. “You’re right.” You hit backspace, removing a teammate’s name and replacing it with his.

As you type the final words on the last page, you glance at him and raise an eyebrow at him.

Your eyes meet for a brief moment before he looks at the screen and clicks his tongue with a smirk. “I’m just messing around, you know.”

You grumble as you type your name at the complimentary close of the letter.

Once you finish, you swivel your chair to face him.

“I’ll print these out later. In the meantime, I’ll let the team know you’re considering the idea,” you say, rising from your seat.

“Mhmm,” he hums, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll walk you there.”

“How noble of you.”

He scoffs. “Well, with a beautiful woman in my office, sitting in my chair like that. How could I let her walk alone?”

Your jaw drops slightly. Did he really just say that? You shut your mouth quickly and tilt your head.

“Are you flirting with me?”

He leans in closer. “Been doing it for the past 50 minutes. Thanks for finally noticing.”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Looking away, you mutter, “Well… I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

He tilts his head to meet your gaze, grinning. “Is that so?”

He takes your hands in his and closes the gap between you. When you look up to him, his tongue swipes on his bottom lip, moistening it. You feel his hands slide around your waist, and you stop him immediately.

“There’s a single-user restroom on the way there.”

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

You press the lock button on the bathroom door, and as you turn around, his lips crash into yours. One arm wraps around his neck, while the other trails up to his chest, your lips moving in sync with his.

Your head spins– you're kissing him. And god, he’s a really good kisser. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting yours in a heated dance. His hands grip your waist tightly before he pulls back, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. He pulls you further into the bathroom. His lips drag to your neck leaving wet kisses.

“Turn around,” he commands.

Your mind buzzes with arousal as you follow his instructions. You plant your palms against the bathroom wall, and you hear him shifting behind you. When you glance back, he’s already on his knees.

“What are you doing?” you ask, slightly confused.

His hands rest on your ass, and he looks up at you with a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I’m an ass guy, if you don’t mind,” he admits.

“Oh!” you squeak, turning your head toward the wall in embarrassment. “No– well, sure…” is all you manage to say.

Slowly, he lifts your pencil skirt, bunching it at your waist. His fingers hook the waistband of your panties and slide them down to your ankles. He grips your waist and gently parts your legs, causing your back to arch.

His hands spread your cheeks, giving him a better view of your most intimate part. One thumb drags from your puckered entrance down to the folds of your pussy, then both thumbs move to spread you open.

“Cute,” he murmurs from behind.

His tongue wastes no time, immediately dragging along your folds and lapping at your entrance. You moan at the sensation as he pushes his tongue inside your pussy, curling it deep within you.

“Haa…” you gasp when he pulls back and trails his tongue down to your clit, flicking it expertly over your most sensitive spot. He alternates between licking your pussy and moving his mouth higher, until his tongue lays flat against your asshole and begins to swirl against it.

You call out his name as you pant, your voice a mixture of surprise and pleasure. You turn your head, catching his eyes locked onto yours as he plants wet, deliberate kisses on your sensitive rim. Before you can fully process it, his tongue slips past the tight ring of your ass.

“Such a cute hole,” He says as he pulls his tongue out before darting back in.

You gasp, your eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure ripple through you. His tongue works you relentlessly, eating your ass out with such intensity that you can’t help but cry out his name again and again.

“Keep doing that… haa…” you moan, eyes squeezed shut. One hand finds your dripping pussy, plunging two fingers inside while the other circles your clit, desperate to reach your climax.

Your mind goes hazy– the pleasure too overwhelming to think straight. Then, with a loud moan, your vision goes white as you finally fall over the edge, orgasm tearing through you in blinding ecstasy.

He gives your ass one last kiss before getting to his feet. You hear the rattle of his belt as he pulls out his cock. He slaps your ass, and you whine at the sting.

“Ready to take my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, tilting his head toward you, his hands resting on your hips.

You huff, “Just fuck me already.” You plant your hands back on the wall, looking at him from over your shoulder.

He moves one hand from your hip to guide his cock into your pussy. You gasp as he slowly pushes in.

“Wait– fuck,” you breathe, stopping him for a moment to accommodate his thick girth. He’s not even halfway in, and you already feel like you’re being split open.

You spread your legs wider, whining nervously, then nod for him to keep going. He begins to move, dragging his cock in, drilling into you. The feeling of him inside has you moaning and cursing under your breath. It makes you feel hazy as the pain of his stretching is replaced easily with endless pleasure.

“You feel so good, baby,” he moans, watching his cock disappear into your pussy.

When you feel his hips flush against your ass, you instinctively grind back against him, letting out a soft mewl. Breathing heavily, you murmur, “You're so big…” Your teary eyes lock with his as you whine, “Go slow, okay?”

He only groans in response, beginning to thrust into you at a steady pace. You moan and mutter curses as his thick cock pushes deep into your tight pussy.

“Taking me so fucking well. Fuck, you're so tight,” he growls.

You manage a breathy chuckle between moans. “Yeah?” you hum, lips curling into a teasing smile until it fades into a gasp as he suddenly quickens his pace. You hiss, eyes rolling back, as he grips your hips tighter and fucks you harder.

The sound of skin slapping and his groans, along with your moans, echoes through the restroom. “Feels so good… so good…” you babble incoherently, panting as his cock hits that perfect spot deep within your spongy walls.

“Yeah, you like that? Fuck, you're so gorgeous. Taking my cock so well. You love it, don't you?”

You pant, squeezing your eyes shut as tears stream down your face. “Yes! I love it. Oh, fuck, please, please, please…”

Waves of pleasure hit back to back with him buried balls-deep inside you. Your blood feels like it pumps only into your pussy as he pounds you from behind. You cry out when he suddenly pulls out completely. Looking up at him, you breathe heavily.

“Why did you stop?” you whine.

With his hands on your hips, he turns you around and leans in, his mouth close to your ear. “At least let me see your face when I fuck my cum into you.”

He helps untangle your panties from around your ankle, scrunching them into his fist.

You shudder as he places his large hands under your thighs and lifts you up. One arm hugs your waist, the other guiding his cock back into your aching pussy. Once the tip is in, he holds you tight and thrusts forward hard.

You moan breathlessly, brushing the bangs from his face. He breathes heavily with you, and your lips crash into his, tongues tangling.

You moan into his mouth, then pull back slightly. “I'm close, I'm close!”

He pants, jerking his hips faster. “Yeah, fuck.” You almost scream when he slams in deep, cock kissing your cervix.

“Let me shoot my cum into you, yeah?” he groans, his hips moving fast and sloppy.

“Yes! Cum inside me, fuck. Fuck–!” Your eyes roll back as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave.

He gasps, thrusting deep as he releases inside you, shooting his warm load into your tight pussy.

You grip his shoulders as both of you catch your breath, feeling his cock slowly soften inside you. You chuckle and tap his shoulder.

“Put me down,” you say, cupping his cheek and giving him a kiss on top of it.

As he sets you down, he instinctively lifts one of your legs to glance at the mess between your thighs. Your pussy clenches as white liquid drips down from your sore hole. He let's out a breathy laugh. “Beautiful.”

You scoff, grabbing a few tissues and sitting on the toilet bowl. When he keeps staring at you, you ask him to turn around so you can pee and clean yourself.

He shoves both hands into his pockets and turns his head slightly. Before you can snap at him for peeking, he quickly says, “I should go.”

“Yeah,” you reply, crouching slightly to wipe the cum off your legs.

“I’ll see you around.”

He closes the bathroom door, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

As you finish cleaning up, something clicks in your mind. Shit.

He walks away from the bathroom, smirking as he pulls one hand from his pocket and pats the top of it– your panties safely tucked inside of his dress pants.

JEAN kirstein, eren yeager, reiner braun, NANAMI kento, gojo satoru, NAOTO tachibana, hanma shuji + your favs

[olailamajnoon]

Cass: *puts a load in and starts washing machine*

Washing Machine: *stops*

Washing Machine, in a tinny voice: Hello. Can I request you to remove the seventeen different ancient coins you have stuffed inside your suit pockets.

Cass: ...

Cass: No, you stinky little metal mouse butt.

Washing Machine: *sighs*

Later, at dinner:

Cass, to Bruce: When were you going to tell me that our washing machine has become intelligent.

Bruce: *lowers his hand and looks at her*

The rest of the Batfam: *stares*

Bruce: what.

Cass, unconcernedly: I had a whole conversation with our machine this afternoon. It gave me tips for folding my kevlar suits, and expressed appreciation for my taste in coin collection.

Bruce:...

The rest of the kids:...

Stephanie: Cass.

Dick: So just to be clear. You had an entire conversation with an inanimate object.

Cass: ...yes?

Jason: Hallelujah!

Tim: (chuckling) Welcome to the family!

Dick: You're not truly a bat until the appliances start talking.

Bruce: For me it was the toaster oven. It insisted I wasn’t preheating it properly.

Damian: Father, Grayson, Drake, Todd. You're all saying...you have had long talks with...things?

Tim: Oh I had an entire codependent relationship with the refrigerator. It lasted for three weeks.

Damian:..

Cass:...

Cass: I am beginning to question my involvement in this family.

Damian: So am I.

Stephanie: Relax, baby bats. It's just all the sleep deprivation with some caffeine addiction thrown in. You didn't really think you'd get away with it scot-free, did you?

Cass: *stands up* If you all will excuse me, I have to put a great deal of distance between us.

Damian: *pushes back his plate and stands up* Cain I will come with you. This family is, as the saying goes, nuttier than a fruitcake.

Cass: *walking away* Just give me a moment, Damian, to say goodbye to a friend.

Damian: Cain. Why are you heading towards the laundry room?

[vargrblood]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎page ──── four

은장즈 with a Union Member! Reader ˳ ۫ 𓈅

includes eunjangz 𔓕 gn!reader 𔓕 w.c 2.1k+

genres — crack, fluff, comfort, angst & hurt.

click to continue reading! 𔓕 whc mlist

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ yeon sieun

“Yo, Eunjang?”

Sieun turned towards the source of the voice and there you were—leaning against the rusted railing, hood of your black jacket pulled up and an unlit cigarette between your lips.

Sieun’s gaze is like always, unblinking and dissecting. He looks at you like you are a little mouse taped on a table and he's a student tasked to dissect you and study your insides.

“Got a second to spare?” You ask moving towards him, more like sauntered towards him as if you both had all the time the clock has to offer. You halted for a second as you pulled out your phone to check something, unlocking the phone with one hand easily while your other hand reached out to remove the unlit cigarette from between your lips. After you were done with whatever you were doing, you finally turned towards the guy— Yeon Sieun, was it?

He must've heard ‘spar’ instead of ‘spare’ because his hand swiftly reached for his blazer pocket to take out a pen. Your lip curls on the left side and you scoff, you look into his eyes and see an emotion not usually found in the eyes of Eunjang kids. It was not simple anger, no, it was rage. Like you had personally offended him by stealing his grandma’s dentures or something.

“Oh, no, no, I am not here to pick a fight.” You say fawningly, raising your arms in mock surrender. “I am here to talk.”

Sieun looks at you, unblinking and unraveling, trying to find if you were being for real or not. The look in his eyes is unchanging and suspicious. The look stays for a hot second, in a silent stare down with you and then he finally puts his pen back in his pocket. You pull down your arms on cue and wink at him and then start walking.

He follows you cautiously, wary of the shit you might pull. “Heard you were the guy who beat the shit out of Seongje.” You start, “It wa–”

“What is this about?” He questions.

“Want me to cut to the chase?” You ask, it's a bummer he doesn't want to do small talk. You were interested in this ‘newbie’ who had irked both Baekjin and Seongje and managed to defeat one of them. You throw away the unlit cigarette with a frustrated sigh.

“Let me borrow your pen.” He looks at you strangely, like you asked him for his kidney, not just some pen. He takes out his pen slowly, his eyes never leaving your figure. He hands you his pen.

You take his hand in yours, drawing out his palm and you write your phone number. Sieun’s gaze flickers down onto his palm and then back at you when you're finished.

“My number. Call me if you need help with anything regarding the Union. Just make sure that Baekjin doesn't find out I am fraternising with the enemy.” Sieun looks back at his hand, you're still holding it.

“But you're kinda cute so call me whenever.” You wink. You write down your name under your number and return his pen.

You smile and walk away. Sieun stares at his palm, ‘L/N Y/N ♡’ written in blue ink stares at him back.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ seo juntae

The first time you meet Juntae (when off-duty from the Union) isn't something very climatic or romantic, it's just that you run into each other at a wedding. You're from the Union and he's from Eunjang—this is nothing less than a star-crossed-lovers-Romeo-Juliet-Enemies-to-Lovers shit to you. You find it funny actually. You think of playing with the boy a little, teasing him a little, trying to get him flustered. Mind you, you haven't even gone up to him or anything, you're just scheming from a distance.

When Juntae sees you staring at him from a distance it feels like a vulture flying over it's next body and the first thing he thinks is— Great! I am some sort of lunatic magnet. He tries to ignore you but you are like a persistent stain on a light coloured cloth. He wonders if you crashed the wedding or something and if you did not, you both might somehow be related.

When you start to walk towards him, that's when he actually gets worried, the Union guys (not guys actually, just Seongje) and ‘lunatics’ he has attracted over the course of his existence on his planet have been weird and not afraid pulling strange shit in public, even if comes at the cost of making yourself look like a complete idiot in front of adults.

He slowly and stealthily tries to sneak away from his spot and takes small steps and he successfully finds himself halfway across the venue, but when he turns, you're still hot in his heels. He continues to run away from you.

It's not long before he runs into a dead end, screw these Korean wedding venues!

You take your sweet time trailing towards him. Like a little bug stuck in an elaborate web of a clever spider, Juntae cannot escape. He looks around but there's just no way and then! Here you are.

Wait?!

You're kabedon-ing him?!

Juntae feels like he's in some flop shoujo manga that got discontinued because of its low viewership.

But all you feel is as if your heart has been pierced by cupid’s arrow. Is this the guy who's strong enough to be Eunjang’s top dog according to Seongje? This cutie right here?

The way he appears so meek and cute and the way his nose twitches when his eyes meet you, it makes you feel squishy and mushy inside.

A waiter passes you by but excuses your both thinking that you're hormonal teenagers and does nothing and sadly to Juntae’s disbelief, he's still stuck between your arms and your face is awfully close to his and then he takes notice of your face— the way the lights above you both are makes it look like you have constellations trapped in your eyes, the way your lashes are so thick and pretty, he can see his own reflection in your eyes because of your close proximity and the way your lips look so moisturized and kissable right now and, and, and–

“Can I have your number?” That pulls Juntae out of his god awful thoughts and where they were heading but wait what? You, one of the top (more like ex-top) members of the Union, are asking for his number? Why?

But then he takes in your body language, the way there's a slight tremble in your lips and the way you refuse to meet his eyes all of sudden, is it what he is thinking?

“Why?” He blurts out.

You pull your hands back and look at your shoes, then take a turn and then kabedon him again, this time with one hand only, your other hand slowly reaches to fix his glasses that have tipped slightly on his nose.

“You’re cute, that’s why.”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ go hyuntak

Hospitals have always been a source of discomfort for you. The lights were always too bright, the bulbs always burned onto your retinas. The floor was always too clean, too pristine, it made you feel like you were violating the sanctity of such a pure place. The air always smelled weird… with the pungent smell of antiseptics mixed with that of cleaners and air purifiers. The scents were always suffocating.

They were always too sterile and you always felt like a foreign germ, unwelcome and impure.

You take a deep breath in, inhaling the bouquet in your hand, and letting the sweet scent of roses fill your nostrils and soothe you a little. The baby's breaths, soft and gentle, tickle your skin when your face reaches too close to the bouquet. It calms you a little—the fragrance of the roses, however, there is a persistent beating in the back of your mind screaming that you are not welcome here.

Offering the receptionist a polite smile you inquire about the ward of the person you've come to visit—Go Hyuntak. She tells you the room number and you excuse yourself to visit the patient.

The walk towards the floor and room is nothing short of suffocating. You keep on rehearsing what to say and what expressions to make. What if he doesn't let you speak? What if he throws something at you and acts mean? Before your disparaging thoughts can cause your brain to burst you're already in front of the door.

You take in the long breath, mentally preparing yourself for what's to come and utter a small ‘Fighting!’ to yourself. You try to peek through the little glass in the door but it's not enough to make out the room so you open the door. The tough plastic handle meets the pads of your fingers as you slide it open.

“Go Hyuntak….?” You say helplessly. The said boy peeks out of the drawn curtains and his expression sours so quickly— first it was full of curiosity and now it is nothing less than disdain. You are not welcome here.

You make your way slowly towards his bed, taking in his condition. There's a few bandages scattered around his face and there's a cast on one of his legs. Just as you open your mouth to say something he starts.

“Did Baekjin guy send you here to mock me?” He motions towards the flowers in your left hand and the bag in your right one. You are not welcome here.

“No!” You exclaim, your expression melts into one of pain at the accusation but of course he would think that. You are in the Union working under the guy who broke his knee and rendered him in such a condition. “I came here of my own accord.” He lets you continue.

“It’s just that…” He raises his eyebrows as you start and you look away unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s just that I feel bad for what happened to you. What Baekjin did was unfair and he crossed the line. I'm sorry.”

Hyuntak looks around for a second wondering if this is a hidden camera prank and Baekjin might pop out any second. He tries to be tough though, Na Baekjin doesn't seem like a guy to do that.

“Okay….?” Hyuntak says unsure, he does feel the genuinity in your words but he can't trust you yet.

You hand him the bouquet and place the bag on the side table.

“Eat the pastry. It's very nice.” You say awkwardly.

You're just about to take your leave when he says;

“You can have a seat, you know.”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ park 'baku' humin

“Humin?”

Baku feels his world pause for a second, a voice he had not heard in a long time—your voice, cuts through the air like a ripple in still water, something rare, something that makes the molecules vibrate all of sudden.

He turns towards you and there you are, there's a little change in your features over the course of a year and half that Humin had not seen you during, you have a nose piercing and your hair has changed a little too, with electric blue dye at the tips. You have grown a little too.

Humin feels his walls crumbling.

“(First Name).” He exhales, his features neutralise, his expression seems unreadable but his eyes are a little glassy.

You both walk around the neighbourhood for while, roaming in the chilly autmun air as the night starts to fall over the cityscape. You both talk a little, sharing pleasantries and catching up, you both have history. But it's all in the past now, you don't share the same bond you did in the past, after all when you tie back a torn thread, it does not go back to as it once was—there’s a knot there now. The thread cannot be the same again.

Baku passes a joke and you burst into laughter, Baku feels as if time has slowed down when he looks at you, eye crinkled and a wide smile, the streetlight hits your face just right and it makes you look… simply, ethereal.

After you both quieten down and are about to finish the round around the neighbourhood, Baku’s dad’s shop appears in your line of vision.

You turn towards Humin and he stiffens, the look on your face is quite serious, he doesn't know what to expect and he is afraid. He is afraid that the words that might come out of your mouth might be the reason that he will lose you again.

“I still consider you a precious friend, you know. So, this is coming from a place of concern. Join the Union, it's for the best.”

Humin’s jaw tightens at this. Just how dare you show up in his life after all this time and ask him to join the Union of all things?

“You have changed (First Name).” He says, seething with contempt. When did you become one of Baekjin’s dogs?

“Baekjin has changed too. You don't understand what he's capable–”

“Leave.”

You suck your teeth and nod.

“Take care. Bye.”

And with that, you walk away leaving Humin with the remnants of crumbled walls of his heart.

note Ꮺ

tumblr stop fucking up challenge failed miserably. Like?? it kept on fucking up the position of the images for no reason at all and erasing the read more break thingie for no reason, i had to go and crop every image into 1:1 ratio manually ㅠㅠ

this happened on my alt acc too when i tried to post the suho excerpt... does anyone know what's happening?

taglist (join it here!)

@mariii-0001 @gacktsa @pavitrata @yujiswave @svtf1lms @sadesutopia

also requests and asks are open! feel free to drop by with any requests (know more about them thru pinned post) or any questions!

[muntitled]

CATCH | L. JENO

Lycan!Jeno x afab!reader

➛ Summary: Perhaps making your uncontrollable boyfriend chase you was a bad idea after all

➛ Warnings: Language, Paranormal!au, Fluff, Established Relationship, Possessiveness, Doggy Traits, Ownership Kink (he owns you in his mind) Lycan!Jeno, Cat and Mouse game, Smut +18 (mdni), Mating Press, Rutting, Primal Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Neediness, Scent Kink, Dom!Jeno, Sub!Reader, Whimpering, Breeding Kink, PIV

<3 happy spooky season

"I mean…" There's a quiet, stunned sound that leaves his lips as Jeno forces both his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He gazes at you through his hooded eyelids. "Are you sure?" You weren't sure of anything, to be completely honest and neither was he. You explain this to him with a quirk of your lips as your fingers weaved through your laces, knotting them with a quickness before your game commenced...

"It's just," he releases more distraught, more nervous habits unconsciously overcoming his body in irregular and jarring spurts. You gazed up at him from bended knee, now preoccupied by tying Jeno's laces too, and you chuckled. "It's just what, Big Boy?"

There was a chuckle that broke across the once painfully serious cracks of his visage, his smile even brighter with the elation across his face. "You know it is... probably not smart to do this. You know I'm not going to be able to-” his ears perk up. “Tighter," he asks distractedly, "-could you tie the left one just a little tighter," Jeno stomped his left foot in indication, the shriveled leaves crunching ever so slightly under the leather soles of his sneakers.

You had never quite believed in the societal construct of a soulmate until you had met Jeno. Upon your union, it all seemed to fall so surreptitiously into place that a life before him had seemed utterly bland, and so completely... boring. There was warmth that seized the man's entire countenance and you put it all to very good use. Not a single tear was shed without Jeno curling into you, quite forcefully stuffing his large, masculine frame under your armpit under a very, very strict comfort policy.

And that was before you found out about his little… biological quirk.

He didn't really know where it came from, thethats that lived inside him. It had just always been there. Jeno kept the beast restrained on most occasions but that came with some dire repercussions: finding some bits of your furniture chewed up. Jeno promising to replace. His overt and unflinching loyalty was another facet of his quirk.

You could not show if anyone at work bothered you without Jeno tapping his foot anxiously against the floorboards of your shared apartment, chewing on the ends of his nails while the rest of him was seized in restlessness. "I'm not going to leave until you tell me," He would say, pushing the door of your bedroom open every time it threatened to close shut.

"Boundaries," You would yell, "Boundaries, Jeno! You don't have to know about every detail of my life!"

"I am respecting your Boundaries," he would say, sneering his nose up at that crude dirty word.

The word that wanted you to be away from him. The word that saw you two occasionally (frustratingly) separated.

Boundaries.

"I am respecting your boundaries," he would say from the doorways. "I haven't even set foot over the line once, even though you are very clearly upset." His sweet, slightly feral obliviousness would usually aid in washing away water grievances you had acquired from your work life or outside friendships, your life untouched by Jeno. Even his flaws held a nauseating dose of happiness. His forgetfulness, his altruism, his overthinking, his restlessness. There was not a single part of your Jeno that you did not drink up in admiration. You were lucky to have him.

"I don't really see what the problem is, Jeno." You continue, "It's not like- still, Jeno, could you keep your leg still? That's why I can't tie the knot too well," You pat down his jittery leg in what you hope acts as a sedative for his nerves. It works momentarily, truthfully he just loves having your natural body heat in such close range with his. He could feel it all radiating off your palm, through his slacks no problem. He zeroed in on that particular activity far too much and it illicited a wayward shiver that wracked through his body. "It's not like you're going to hurt me," You say, tugging on the bows you had fashioned out of his laces one final time before rising from the forest floor. You dust a layer of sticks and dead leaves from your exposed knee while Jeno continues his nervous tirade. "You dont know-"

"I do know. I know that you're capable of controlling yourself, Jeno. I know that you're in love with me. I know that you'd never, ever do anything to hurt me." Eye contact. If there was a single force in the entire known (and unknown), the whole goddamn multiverse included, that could rile Jeno up with the amount of pressure stored in an atomic bomb, it was the eye contact. You gaze up at him with nothing but trust blazing in your eyes as you sunk your grip into his hoodie. A hoodie he was particularly fond of, even hesitant to part with even though he knew it was a full moon.

"I don't like losing," He admits gravely as he lifts the hoodie over his shoulders, discarding it on the forest floor. You watch with slight excitement as your boyfriend's bare skin is illuminated by the moonlight. Leaving him in nothing but his grey basketball shorts and his sneakers

"It's too close to a full moon," His lips are but a mere inch away from you. You can hear his ragged breath. It's a sound that flows in sync with the natural cacophony of the woods, the hum of the fireflies and drum of the crickets, all hidden away, singing for the couple, perched under the waning moon.

"That's part of the fun though, isn't it?" You finally break eye contact but your periphery reveals a keen-eared, frozen-solid Jeno, still watching you with the transfixed gaze of a hawk. He's starkly aware of every single thing around you, his senses being at their most potent especially when he found himself in his natural habitat.

"You're not going to run away?" You nearly chuckle at that but you hold it in, quite enjoying the charged air that is buzzing between the two of you.

"Running away's the entire point, Baby," there is a richness in your vibrato that completely does him in. A sharp, distressing growl reverberates from his chest. It bleeds into a squeaky whine when you bury your fingers into his overgrown and rugged head of hair.

"Running from me. I mean, you're not gonna end up... running away from me... forever..." he all but slurs, eyes fluttering shut as you scratch the side of his head in a way that elicited a warmth in his very bones, the need to soothe that delicious itch in his very being was unparalleled. He craved more of your touch, he craved more of you-

"You get the rest when you get me." You state firmly, much to Jeno's dismay who releases another growl, much to the shame of his almost-human- non-human self.

"It'll be fun." You reassure the man as you begin to bounce lightly on the balls of your feet. You fill your lungs with the fresh and dewey air of the woodland fencing the both of you and you ready your limbs. Jeno begins to shake his head slowly, then much more furiously as he sees you beginning to break away.

"N-No, don't-" He clamps a large hand over his mouth but the growl is heard all the same. It has your eyes wideneing in glee as you move even farther away, breaking into a slight jump before speeding off into the thickness of the wood. A wave of nausea paired with excitement zings through his entire body at the sight of your whizzing frame and his legs move on their own accord.

You're fighting to dodge brambles and branches of every kind. Trees and their obnoxious arms crisscrossing overriding one another, causing you to bend at odd and athletic angles as you sprinted through the night-veiled wood. There was an eerieness to the open space, the vastness of it, yet the density that was bestowed by the clumping, plentiful trees. You knew, had you been caught under any orher circumstances, you might have been seized bu fear. Fear was so common to you, it might as well have lived in your bloodstream. It marred itself across tue scenes of your childhood, manifesting in odd, grim drawings, the inability to sleep in the dark and a bed-wetting era you had grown out of at an embarrassingly late edge. Fear was your companion and it might have destroyed you in this very moment, when you were dodging passed tall, crooked silhouettes of pine trees... were it not for the entity- no, man- that is sending loud enough growls for you to hear on your aggressive getaway.

Butterflies soar in your stomach as your feet beat down on the uneven forest floor. You fight to keep your gaze locked on the nature-crafted obstacle coarse ahead of you, choosing to ignore the hurried lunges sounding behind you. Squirrels scatter in your wake and the owls hoot from their post. The animals watch in anticipation as your energy depletes and your breathing becomes far more ragged and spent.

An unforeseeable ache blossoms in your upper arms first as the butterflies in your bleeds into a sharp, afflicting stitch that has you veering off course. Your thighs lunge the rest of yoir heavy body forward with vigor and determination, using up all the energy you have stored inside. Soon, the world begins to tilt and you're met with the sharp end of a branch that had gone undetected by you. A small scrape slashes across your arm and yet you still keep running.

Another, final growl is sent into the air and for a brief, quiet moment you find yourself gazing up at the waning moon. This was the final evening you got to spend with your lover before the full moon took him away from you, wanting him all to herself like a selfish, immortal bitch.

It is then when you find yourself slowing down. A fire is raging in your esophagus and just as your lungs begin their reduced intake of fresh air, youre yelping as yoire being tackled to the ground with a force that knocks your air out.

"FUCK-" You curse as he rolls the both of you onto the mossy, forest floor. Somehow, he made provisions for you, making sure to lock his arm around your head as the two of you tumbled to the ground in a messy heap. The sound of rapid panting right in your ear.

When you open your arms, you are claimed underneath him. His hands resting against the sides of your head, caging you in with the promise of never letting you go again. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. As if you were a restless baby bird that he might lose again. He gazes down at you with wild eyes brimming with intensity and satisfaction from the chase you had given to him. Both of your uneven ragged breathing fill the space between you until-

"I've... I've got a cut," You whisper in between your loud breathing, "You wouldn't have caught me so soon if I hadn't-"

"Please, just shut up," He murmurs robotically before colliding his lips with yours in a furious and fiery kiss that seems to last for ages. His hands find their way at your sides, sinking his fingers into the soft skin that would otherwise be painful, but what is incredibly erotic.

You try to break away, to try and breathe but he only forces his kiss even deeper. Jeno is unsure if it's a distraught moan or a cry that bubbles up from your chest and it's the not knowing, the possibility of it being both, that has Jeno's cock aching against his pants. He experimentally ruts into your leg once and it's enough to break the kiss and have him groaning into the forest air. "Oh God," he moans in utter delight, and you watch him rut helplessly against your leg while firmly encircling a large hand around your throat. Jeno does not anticipate the strength in his grip, but he is too far gone, completely locked away in a world of pleasure as he murmurs with his hooded eyes: "Never. You never, never, never leave me like that again-"

You motion as if to respond but it's completely drowned out when he pulls down your shorts in quick, delirious movements. You steeple your legs and watch on perched elbows as Jeno kneels before you, head twitching in anticipation of your exposed heat. He can smell how excited you are, how completely helpless that one small exercise had made you for him and it drives him into an early.

You watch with intent as Jeno pulls your panties down- he nearly rips it in half, the need to mount you and spill his seed inside you was just far too great. But, Jeno remembers how badly you scolded him the last time he tore off your clothes. This time he was careful.

"Fuck, you’re gonna have my pups," He admits as he stares down at your naked body. You are bathed in moonlight, and your arousal shone prettily against your inner thighs. The string of beads around your waist shine prettily in the moonlight.

"Youre gonna to need you fuck me then, Jeno.” That tone, that goddamn tone has his eyes latching onto yours in a fraction of a second, his head nodding furiously as your words of affirmation filled him with so much zeal it felt as if he might die.

"I can do that," he says, lining his cock up with your glistening entrance, "I can be good for you. I can do that."

The confidence that had once consumed you, completely washes away as Jeno rams his length into you. By the very first thrust, he's latching onto the ends of unbuttoned shirt with one hand, while he melt to the forest floor, supported by the other.

"No, no, no, look at me, please," His command has your cunt clenching around him, illiciting a deep and painful growl from within him. Jeno's face is mere inches away from yours, as his charged and incessant 'hah, hah, hah's spill out of him with every deliciously thrust. He watches you writer underneath him. Pride and attraction dances a great dance in the confines of his heart as you lift your shaky hands to glide over his exposed chest. He was quite literally fucking you into the ground, it was unlike anything any man had ever administered. Your head moved above you with the force of his thrusts and your voice was clogged with the pressure of your oncoming orgasm.

Jeno was so thoroughly focused on cumming inside you that it overtook his entire brain. He gazed down at you with the satisfaction of claiming you, that you were his and nothing else. His scent was going to be mixed with yours and that's all that matters.

"I'm going to cum inside you," he says, rutting into you at an even wilder pace, “Gonna g-give you my seed, pretty girl- Fuck-”

You mindlessly nod as you feel your cunt begin to tighten around his cock once more. He's so deep and so quick, it's a struggle to concentrate on speaking at all.

"Tell me, please! I need you to tell me. Tell I'm a good boy for you! Tell me I can spill my seed inside you, baby please-"

Behind his huffing and fervent frame, the sky is speckled with gorgeous stars. There are stars in his hooded, pleading words and stars in his voice. He's so close to ecstasy and he needs you to reassure him. "Cum for me, baby," You bring a hand to the side of his face, causing him to lean into it with closed eyes. "You're such a good boy, Jeno. Please, cum for me." Your pussy tightening around him a singke time as him cumming on the spot. His cum, hot and heady floods your insides. It's so much. You're being so completely filled. Your hand twitches om his cheek and your back arches as your own oegasm washes over you. A glorious, heavenly ecstasy overtakes your entire being and Jeno buries his head in the crook of your neck. His cock still thrusts into you as you ride the high, your mouth open in a silent cry as your arms lock around his head.

"My beautiful girl," He mutters as you float back down to earth, "My gorgeous, beautiful girl." The kisses you're met with is endless as your shoulder slump and you're transported, once again, to the real world.

The biggest smile you have ever had the pleasure of witnessing is stitched onto his face as Jeno peers up at you from laying his head on your chest. "Again," he says, causing you to laugh in completely disbelief. "We go again. This time I'll give you a head start-"

"Down boy," you say, keeping your head wrapped around his head, "Let me catch my breath first."

[ddejavvu]

can I request a drabble or fic about Curtis sister getting bullied?

sigh. writing curtis!sister stuff is so nostalgic and personal to me. inside of me lives a thirteen year old girl who desperately wanted them to be my brothers. this is for little meimei <33

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

You'd been expecting Steve to pick you up from school, but there must have been a rush at the DX, because it's Two-Bit's creaky old car that chugs along the back street. That's fine too - you could use a laugh after today.

There's a certain level of teasing that you've come to expect because of your social status, but lately some of the older girls around school have made it their personal mission to go above and beyond the standard. Just today they'd begun making fun of the keychain attached to your bookbag- a mickey mouse pendant that had been a gift from Two-Bit himself. Stolen, of course, but not from just any corner store. No, that one had come from a big fancy Disney store, in a big fancy mall hours outside of Tulsa.

He'd been grossly proud of himself when he'd given it to you for your birthday, but according to those older girls, Mickey Mouse was for kids, and that made you one.

You'd tucked it safely into the front pocket of your bag, but Two-Bit notices its absence when you slide into the front seat like there's a neon sign advertising it.

"Hey, kid, where's the keychain?" He nods at your bag, "Did it break off already? Damn Disney, makin' cheap, lousy shit."

"No, it's- it didn't break." You settle into your seat, "I just- took it off."

Two-Bit's hands tighten slightly on the wheel, and he clears his throat, attempting to remain nonchalant.

"Oh. Any reason?"

You think you've hurt his feelings. He's quiet in a way that he usually isn't, and there's no trace of his signature brand of playfulness.

"It's not that I don't like it, Two." You reassure him, reaching over to brace your hand against his leg briefly. He glances at it, throwing you a smile, albeit a wounded one. "I just- I had it on my bag this morning, but then- I dunno, some girls were teasing me about it. I just wanted to avoid trouble."

You'd been attempting to relieve him of any hurt, but now he looks like he wants to hurt the girls you're talking about. He doesn't go to school very often, choosing instead to bum around at your house with a beer and a slice of cake. But you have a sinking feeling that he's going to have perfect attendance from now on, as your personal bodyguard.

"They're pickin' on you?" He asks, glancing over at you from the side of his eye as he tries keeping his focus on the road.

"It's not that bad," You lie, shrugging and reaching into your bag to put your keychain back where it belongs, displayed proudly on your zipper, "They're just high school bullies, Two. Don't worry about it. And don't- don't tell Darry. Please?"

"I don't know, kid." Two-Bit's jaw tightens, shifting as he turns a corner towards the east side of town, "I don't like this. No one should be picking on you. And not to brag, but I know how much you like that keychain. If it's bad enough for you to hide it..."

"It's not that bad, I just- I'm trying to make sure it doesn't get worse. I'm fine," You vow, but there's still a pool of dread in your gut whenever one of the girls' faces flashes in your mind.

"I'm comin' with you tomorrow to school," Two-Bit decides predictably, "And I'm gonna see it for myself, and if they're really layin' into you, I'm rallying the whole gang. Including your brothers. Let us help you, kid."

"No, please-? I don't wanna make it a big deal," You gush, "Two-Bit, everybody's stressed enough. Darry barely has any time to sleep, Soda's worryin' all day about Sandy, Ponyboy's gotta study or Darry'll be on him, just- I don't need to make things worse."

"You aren't makin' anything worse." He frowns, pulling over to the side of the road to turn towards you without the threat of crashing, "Those girls are. Listen, kid. Your brothers care about'cha. We all do. And all of us'd be happy to stick up for you. You know how much fun me 'n Steve would have rippin' into a bunch of mean girls?"

"Don't tell them yet." You insist, but you feel the sincerity of his speech, "Just- wait and see tomorrow. You'll probably scare 'em off anyways."

"I'll wear my best Mickey Mouse shirt," Two promises, his usual shit-eating grin now triumphantly returned to his face as he merges back into the road, "And by that I mean my only one- 'nless you count the old gym shirt my sister drew on."

--

You're nervous about walking back into school with the Mickey Mouse keychain hanging from your bag once more, but you're flanked by an unknowing Ponyboy on your left and a determined Two-Bit on your right, so you know no harm will come to you. Two-Bit is, in fact, wearing his Mickey shirt beneath his leather jacket, practically a dare for anyone to come and say something to him about you.

You think you're in the clear until the three girls you'd been cornered by the day before spot you, and neither Two-Bit nor Ponyboy notice their expressions, but you feel their gaze on the back of your neck. You're sure your keychain is bouncing around in plain sight from the movement of your stride, but with your two bodyguards around none of them dare to say anything.

Two-Bit drops you off at the door to your first class, raising his eyebrows knowingly but subtle enough that it slips past Ponyboy.

"'Kay. I'll meetcha here after class. Wanna sit with us for lunch, kid?"

You nod, thankful that he phrased it as an invitation so that Pony is none the wiser. In reality, you'd been planning on clinging to Two-Bit's leather jacket the entire lunch period. You're glad you have an excuse to do so, now.

You're lucky enough to have B-track classes today, which puts you in different groups than yesterday's A-track. It means that your only possible encounters with the three girls are in the hallways, but Two-Bit makes it impossible for anyone to pick on you by tailing you to each of your classes.

You think you've made it out alive- hopefully forever, by the end of the school day, and the ride home in Two-Bit's creaky little car feels miles better than it had the day before. Ponyboy's silent in the backseat, but that's usual for him, and you think nothing of it as you enjoy the ice cream that Two-Bit buys for the three of you.

It's when you're home that things really go downhill, sitting quietly around the dinner table when Ponyboy speaks for the first time all night.

"Y/N, why didn't'cha tell us you're getting picked on?" He raises the question quietly, but it's just for show- you know he's irritated, and Darry and Soda both straighten in their seats.

"What?" You feign innocence, digging your fork through the spaghetti on your plate, "What are you talkin' about, Pony?"

"These girls were talkin' about you in my history class." Ponyboy grumbles, and shit, you hadn't even considered the possibility of them sharing a class with your brother. You know he's smart for his age, that he was placed a year ahead of his grade level, but you hadn't connected the dots that they'd be in the same classes.

Darry's focus is on you now, but you know him and Soda are both still waiting for Ponyboy to continue. You avoid all three of their gazes, scrutinizing your spaghetti instead.

"They said they were planning on cornering you today. But they said since Two and I were with 'ya, they couldn't. Why didn't'cha tell us they were bothering you?"

Darry shifts forwards in his seat, more intimidating than he means to be. He's worried, you know that, but that's what you'd been trying to avoid.

"It's nothing serious, Pony." You try placating him, the whole table for that matter, "They're just mean girls. I'm handling it fine, really."

"They were talkin' about cornering you?" Darry finally speaks up, his voice unconsciously booming, "Y/N, I don't think you could've handled yourself then. Now I know you don't like makin' a scene but they could've hurt you. How many of 'em are there?"

"Three." You mumble, "Darry, I- I would've got out of it okay, really! They're real preppy, put-together girls, they probably wouldn't fight. Pro'lly just wanted to call me names or something."

"I don't want someone callin' you names, either." Soda frowns, his own plate forgotten as he focuses on you, "Did you tell a teacher about it?"

"No, it's- it's not that bad! Really, guys, you're overreacting. It's just high school drama. It sounds worse than it is."

"I don't like it." Darry decides, a note of finality in his voice that you're not happy about, "That ain't okay. And you know we'd back you up, kiddo. Pony, Johnny and Steve are there every day, and if you told Two-Bit, I'm sure he'd show up too."

"I did tell Two-Bit," You admit reluctantly, and rush to finish before your brothers get offended, "He got it out of me on the way home yesterday. That's why he came today, to make sure none of 'em got a hold of me."

"See, you do need a bodyguard," Soda reasons, leaning back in his chair, "Maybe I oughta take a day off from work. Drop you off tomorrow, give 'em the death stare or somethin'. If you want, I can have Dally tag along, that'll really scare 'em."

"No! No, don't take the day off, and- and don't show up! Especially not with Dallas," You groan, "This is why I didn't tell any of you guys. You have enough to worry about, you don't need to get involved in girl stuff."

Darry kicks your foot under the table, not hard, but reassuring, "Don't say that, kiddo. It ain't just 'girl stuff' if you're gettin' cornered at school. And we'd be more worried if you came home with a black eye. Now you let us all pick you up from school tomorrow, m'kay? Keep the boys with you, and Pony, keep an eye on those girls in class to see if they talk any more about Y/N."

"I will." Pony vows, and Soda finally relaxes, going for another bite of spaghetti at the same time that he tries speaking.

"Steve and I'll whip 'em if they act out," He promises through a mouthful of food, eliciting a sickened laugh from you, and two groans from your other brothers.

"Chew your food, Soda," Pony grimaces, and Darry elbows Soda unimpressed.

"Thanks, guys." You mumble, bashful for needing help but grateful your brothers are so willing to step into the ring for you, "It's- it's really not that bad but thank you for helping me anyways."

"Anytime, kiddo," Darry promises, a rare smile crossing his face, "Can't have the best of us gettin' beat up at school."

"Hey! The best of us?" Ponyboy glares at Darry, stabbing his spaghetti, "What happened to my big brains?"

"I dunno, I think you lost 'em when you fell from the top of the drive-in fence," You smirk at your youngest brother, still older but easiest to tease, "You hit the ground pretty hard."

Soda erupts into laughter at the memory, and Ponyboy continues his vicious assault on his dinner while Darry smothers a laugh, trying to keep the peace.

"But we mean it." Darry looks at you again, a hint of that former sternness crossing his face again, "If you need muscle, you got it. Ain't nobody gonna mess with my kid sister."

"'Specially not if Dallas shows up," Soda snickers, "Them girls'll go runnin' for the hills when they see him helpin' you in the car."

"Tell him to behave himself," You groan, "I don't need to be called into the office 'cause my brother's friend flashed a heater 'round the parking lot."

"He never behaves himself," Pony scoffs, "But if them girls are smart enough, they'll stay away from you before he has to get crazy on 'em."

"They'll stay away from you," Darry vows, and you believe him with the way the muscles in his strong arms flex as he leans forwards on the table, "Or they're gonna have to worry about somethin' worse than Dally."

[sparklystarrrr]

Not me wanting to be self-indulgent with this ask…

BUT I AM BEGGING YOU FOR MORE RIDDLE AND HATTER!READER BECAUSE I ALSO ACT FUCKING INSANE AROUND PEOPLE I LOVE AND IT FEELS LIKE SOMEONE ACTUALLY WROTE A FIC OF ME ROMANCING RIDDLE!!!

PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!

MORE PWEASE!!!

(Also have a nice timezone)

HELP I LOVE HOW MANY RIDDLE REQUESTS I GET I LOVE WRITING ABOUT MY HUSBAND

Hats Galore Pt. 2

Synopsis: Hat making is best done in pairs, is it not?

Contains: Riddle R. x Gn! Mad Hatter! Reader, extension of pt.1, kinda crack, SO FLUFFY

"Riddle boy, do come quickly now, yes you should! Any slower and the dodo feathers may fly away. It took me a couple fingers and a road this that and the other way to obtain, yes it did!"(y/n) squealed while pulling Riddle along with them. “You are truly talented dear. Would it be alright if you could perhaps… teach me?” He said with a slight flush on his cheeks.

(Y/n)’s eyes sparkled, “Teach you? My oh my, what fun! A hat shall be yours in due time Riddle boy!” They quickly grabbed hold of Riddle’s other hand and dragged him along to their room. Inside, it was cluttered to put it lightly. Fabrics, feathers, glue, sewing materials and more were scattered around the room. Hats made previously were decorating the wall from the floor to the ceiling. "Watch your step Riddle! My ideas are scattered along these rickety floors!"

"I can see as much, dear."Riddle said with a smile and let out an airy chuckle as he carefully stepped over some buttons and peacock feathers. The two clumsily made their way to the small desk with a set of cushioned chairs covered in a wide variation of plaid fabrics. A few patches clung to the wooden legs to hold them on, but overall they were very sturdy. The red haired boy sat gently down on the cushion while the (h/c)ette sat with a small clunk of rattling glass bottles and colliding wood.

"Time to make your special hat, my boy!"(y/n) snatched Riddle's petite golden crown off of his head and set it aside. They pulled a comically long measuring tape from a rather small pocket in their pants and wrapped it around his head. "Hmm..." They hummed while reading the measurement ,"Ah, One moment!" "Alright- HUH?!" Riddle jumped in shock as (y/n) hopped right out of their chair and flung themself into an abnormally large closet full of an insane amount of hats.

An avalanche of hats started falling upon the hatter and the boy jumped from his seat. “D-dear?! Are you alright??!!” He shouted. Once the sea of hats calmed there was a small humming coming from beneath the pile. Suddenly, hats exploded from the top of the pile. There out of the pile was (y/n) holding a crushed red velvet top hat waiting to be customized. “Riddle darling! I have the most wondrous hat for you! It is more awe striking than twelve dozen flowers singing a melodic tune, yes it is!”

Riddle panicked once again when he saw (y/n) jump out of the large hat mountain. He nervously held his arms out to catch them as they made a crash landing into him. With a loud bang, (y/n) fell right into Riddle's arms making him stumble back and fall on his butt. He yelped loudly as (y/n) fell right into his lap, hands still firm on the red top hat that they dug out from the hat mountain. "Hah, seems I've squashed this poor rosebud... Up we go now, wouldn't you like to fancy a new hat for tea time? A queen shall wear a crown no smaller than a tea mouse and no larger than a walrus, as said in your silly rule book!" (y/n) giggled heartily.

Riddle's smile softened and he rested his head upon their shoulder. He spoke softly with a sigh and wrapped his arms around their waist,”You are truly a rambunctious one…” (Y/n) rested a hand on his shoulder and pressed their cheek against the boy’s head. “And you’ve grown accustomed to it, I see!” The (h/c)ette teased. His cheeks grew flushed into a rosy pink. ‘I truly have…’ he thought. He melted into their warmth slowly. 

(Y/n) looked down with parted lips, suddenly feeling a little calmer. Their eyes softened and melted ever so close to Riddle. They pressed a warm kiss onto the crown of his rose red hair. The boy gasped.”(Y-(y/n)!” He sputtered as his face bloomed a hot pink.

(y/n) giggled happily at his reaction,”What? A bird will not know affection unless it’s mate performs upfront, no it won’t!” They then pressed one final smooch onto the red haired boy’s soft pale cheek and hopped to their feet.

They held out their hand to him,”Let’s go make a lovely hat for you now, yes we should!” Riddle’s expression turned from one of shyness to a content grin. “Yes.. yes we absolutely should my dear!” He placed his hand gently into theirs and they shoved him to his feet with a force that nearly knocked him over. They scampered over to the desk and plopped into their seats, quickly getting to work.

A few hours later and some fingers nearly stuck together, the hat was finally done. Riddle sauntered out of their room with a new hat fit for the Housewarden of Heartslabyul and his partner happily on his arm. “A hat truly fit for you, Riddle boy!” They exclaimed. Riddle simply looked to them with the widest smile he’s had since forever. “Thank you…” He spoke under his breath. As if he couldn’t quite contain himself, he swiftly pulled them into him and pressed a kiss against their soft lips. And for the first time ever, the sweet hatter was left in an absolute daze. Their cheeks flushed slightly as they held a gummy smile on their lips when he pulled back.

The Heartslabyul students thought he was a little odd for wearing the heavily decorated hat, but hyped the two up nonetheless

Every time i write something for heartslabyul i always say the dialogue in a british accent to make it sound more authentic to the characters… i love my little british man

[angelicgirlmj]

an angels guide: solo valentines

hey angels! whether or not you are single this year valentines is more than just a celebration of romantic love, it should be one of platonic, familial and most importantly self love! oscar wilde wrote ‘to love oneself is the beginning of a life long romance’ and that quote feels so relevant and meaningful to me. after all the only person who will always be with you and experience every moment with you is yourself - you have to give them the love they deserve. with that being said here it is, an angels guide to solo valentines!

write a list of every single thing you love about yourself. doesn’t matter how long or short, how utterly random or specific it is, the point is for you to have a reminder of what makes you loveable in your eyes that is just for you!

read a self discovery book, it could be from any author, genre, fictitious or not, find a book that prominently features a journey of self exploration.

be kind to yourself. have that snack, go to bed a little earlier, take a walk even though it’s cold, stretch as you wake up, whatever helps you treat yourself lovingly and kindly.

buy a physical magazine - cute, girly and depending on the kind you get valentines themed! my favourites are vogue, the new yorker and the paris review!

write yourself a love letter. make it special, meaningful, sweet, whatever you need to receive in the moment. save it till valentines.

buy yourself a little treat. maybe your favourite flowers or snack, maybe a movie ticket, whatever it is get yourself a gift because you deserve to shower yourself with love!

have an everything shower or bath. be slow and mindful, light a candle and put on a playlist, spend as long as you want doing all of your favourite shower activities. use that shower lotion you save for special occasions and spray yourself with a favourite perfume even if you just are getting cozy for bed.

bake yourself something sweet (or savoury, i just associate sweet things with valentines!). maybe strawberry and white chocolate scones, dark chocolate raspberry mouse or a comforting tray of brownies. save it just for you or share with friends and family!

take yourself on a solo date, spend deliberate and conscious time alone. maybe it’s something small like getting a matcha and reading in a coffee shop, maybe it’s something bigger like a shopping spree at your favourite clothes shop or maybe it’s even a solo trip away! do whatever feels right, affordable and needed for you in this moment.

make a self love, valentines playlist!

declutter your room and make your space bright, cozy and comforting. celebrate and honour your space and self, take the time to pick through the things you love, clean them, treat them with care.

have a romcom film night! make a list, get your fave movie snacks, a drink and cozy blanket and settle in and get cozy.

be creative, learn a new creative skill or rediscover an old one, please use your hands, use your mind, make something just for yourself regardless of how good you think it is.

explore your city or town or the place you live by yourself (if safe and able to do so!), bring a camera or take pictures on your phone. stop and be in the moment, find pockets of brightness and beauty. bring your headphones, find a song that fits your mood. pick up pretty rocks or things you find them and save them. keep things that will remind you of yourself in this moment, this place and put them in a junk journal or memory box.

move your body in a way that honours it and is kind. do a dance workout with rests when you need, move slowly during a pilates workout, go for a run and take the time to breath deeply and drink cold, fresh water. love your body and all that it does for you.

i know for many (regardless of their relationship status) can feel at best bored or like this time of year is pointless, or at worse lonely and upset. this year i want you to focus on finding love within yourself, because, angels, you are so full of it. let internal love fulfill you and then let the external find you. what are your plans for solo valentines or solo valentines activities this month? let me know i would love to hear it and get some inspiration!

happy valentines! love, m.

[yoongissweetdream]

Little Love Notes | Bang Chan 

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader  

Summary: Chan's girlfriend likes to leave him little notes.  

Warnings: It just fluffy. I have written a little drabble similar to this but wanted to switch it around so it's reader leaving him little love notes. This is a repost from my now deactivated blog. More of an explanation in my pinned post.

Word Count: 482 

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Chan's heart swelled with warmth as he read the little note once again. The words are written on a bright yellow post-it note which was stuck to his laptop lid. It was a simple sentence, but it meant so much to him.  

"Have a great day, my love. Don’t be too hard on yourself."   

The last couple day’s he’d been a little hard on himself because he couldn’t get a part of the latest song they’ve been working on right. No matter how he mixed it, with and without Changbin and Jisung’s help, he couldn’t seem to get it sounding like he envisioned in his mind.   

Taking a moment before he goes back to the song that’s becoming a headache, he remembers back to when Y/N left him the first note she ever left him. They had just moved in together when he found a post-it note stuck to the screen of his phone, with ‘I love you’ written on it. From that day on, Y/N made it her mission to leave him little love notes around their apartment. Some days they just said I love you and other days they’d be a small paragraph reminding him how loved he is, or how lucky she is to have him. Sometimes they would be sweet little reminders for him to take breaks, or to go easy on the guys and stuff like that. When he went away, whether it be in South Korea or overseas, the little notes would continue. He’d find them on in his bag, in the pocket of a random hoodie or pair of pants, and on his electronics. He even found one wrapped around his toothbrush, one time.   

The guys often tease him about the notes, but he doesn't care. He loves these notes more than anything because they are a physical representation of her love for him. It’s his and Y/N’s little thing they have that doesn’t involve anyone else. He loves it and would be sad if she ever stopped writing them.  

As he opens his laptop, he chuckles to himself when he finds another note in his girlfriend's handwriting. ‘Can we please have McDonald’s for dinner?’  

He puts the notes somewhere safe so he can add them to the growing collection, filling his desk drawer at him. Grabbing his phone, he pulls up his messages with Y/N, and types out his reply to her notes.  

‘You have a good day too. I’ll pick up McDonald’s on my way home tonight. I love you so much x.’  

He puts his phone to the side and boots up his laptop to get started working on the newest 3racha song.  

It doesn’t take long before his phone buzzes, notifying him that he has a new message. When he checks it, he smiles, seeing it’s from Y/N.   

‘I’ll message you my order later. I love you so much too, baby xxxxx.’ 

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. 

©️ 2024 CRAZYFORMFICS. NO ONE HAS PERMISSION TO COPY, TRANSLATE AND/OR POST MY FICS ON HERE OR ANY OTHER SITE.

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups

[prettygirl-gabi]

Ohana Means Everything

Pairing: Reader x Jana El Alfy

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: movie date leads to tears, laughter, and matching ink.

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @zizi-bee-yapping

We’d been planning this for weeks.

Scratch that—months. Ever since the Lilo & Stitch live-action announcement dropped, it became a pinned topic in our relationship group chat, our joint calendar, and every late-night cuddled-up conversation.

We circled the release date like it was a playoff game.

No—like it was the championship.

“Do you think they’ll keep the ‘Pudge the Fish’ line?” I asked one night in early March.

Practice had kicked our asses and our muscles ached, but we were curled up together under our Stitch fleece blanket, sharing one large hoodie and one small bag of peanut M&M’s.

“If they cut Pudge, I’m writing a letter,” Jana said without hesitation. Dead serious. Peanut butter sandwich in hand like she was staging a one-woman protest.

“To who? Disney?”

“To everyone. I’ll start with Disney and work my way up to the United Nations.”

And that’s how I knew she meant it. Jana never jokes when it comes to emotionally significant fictional moments—or snacks.

So when the big day finally arrived, we treated it like a national holiday. We slept in, and ate Mickey Mouse waffles in our apartment.

I even queued up the original animated Lilo & Stitch for a pregame rewatch.

It was sacred.

While Jana raided our snack drawer for movie contraband, I was in our bedroom, laying out our outfits like we were heading to prom.

“Matching fits or nah?” I called out, holding up our pastel blue “Ohana” sweatshirts.

Jana poked her head around the corner, a Stitch plush tucked under one arm, peanut butter sandwich in the other, one brow raised in disbelief. “You even have to ask?”

We went all-in: matching “Ohana Means Family” crewnecks, Stitch pajama pants with dancing hula Stitches down the leg, and her well-worn—lovingly giant— stitch plush in my tote bag like the emotional support alien he is.

I had put way too much mascara on, already knowing I’d cry it off by the third act.

“I can’t believe we’re showing up to the theater like this,” I teased, smoothing my sleeve over her shoulder.

Jana grinned and grabbed the Stitch headband off the kitchen hook. “We’re in love and emotionally unhinged,” she said, sliding it on with zero shame. “Let us live.”

We strutted into the movie theater like it was a cosplay red carpet.

Our outfits matched, our energy matched, and tucked inside a crinkly Ziploc bag in Jana’s hoodie pocket was a slightly squished peanut butter sandwich.

“You’re actually bringing that?” I whispered as we showed our tickets.

“Pudge controls the weather,” she whispered back like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’d be rude not to.”

I didn’t even argue. She had a point.

As the lights dimmed and the classic blue alien graced the screen, I turned my head just enough to see her face.

Her eyes were wide, lips parted slightly in awe, a tiny smile tugging at the corners.

She looked like a little kid again. And maybe I did too.

We giggled at the right parts, clutched each other during the slightly updated chase scenes, whispered predictions between handfuls of popcorn, and absolutely lost it when Nani and Lilo’s chaotic sisterhood moments hit a little too close to home.

But by the time we hit the third act, the energy in the theater shifted. More quiet. More reverent. The kind of quiet where you feel everyone else holding their breath too.

And then Stitch said it.

“This is my family. It’s little, and broken… but still good.”

Jana’s hand tightened around mine like she was afraid the moment would slip away if she didn’t ground herself in something real.

I turned my head. She was openly crying.

Her bottom lip trembled, her lashes clumped together with tears, her face glowing from the screen’s blue light like some soft, celestial sadness had touched her heart.

My own throat tightened, but she… she was feeling it in full.

“You good, babe?” I whispered, rubbing my thumb gently across the back of her hand.

“No,” she choked out, using her hoodie sleeve to dab at her eyes. “Why is this hitting harder in live action?”

I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. My voice was soft, but the truth of it was sharp. “Because we’re older, more emotionally damaged, and in love.”

She let out a shaky laugh through her tears, head bumping mine. “Shut up.”

We stayed until the credits rolled and the post-credit scene ended—a cute bonus with them rebuilding the house, Nani in college—and then we just sat there.

Silent.

Breathing.

Wrecked in the best possible way.

Then, out of nowhere, Jana turned to me. Her eyes still glossy but fierce now. Determined.

“Let’s get tattoos.”

I blinked. “Right now?”

She nodded like it was the most natural next step in the world. “Right now. Pudge. Peanut butter sandwich. Matching.”

I smiled, heart doing that stupid flutter it only did with her. “I’ve never loved you more.”

Two hours later, we were in a tiny 24-hour shop downtown, where a sleepy artist named Max barely looked up when we told him our idea.

“No problem,” he mumbled, already sketching a round, wide-eyed Pudge swimming toward a sandwich.

I got mine on my left forearm—Pudge with a little content smile, tiny fins paddling through swirly waves with a neatly drawn floating sandwich in his mouth.

Jana’s was nearly identical, but her ocean waves curled differently.

Still Pudge.

Still soft.

Still us.

Still part of the same ocean.

By the time we left, our arms were wrapped in second skin wrap, the smell of antiseptic still clinging to the air. But the moment? It was already burned into memory.

Sweet.

Quiet.

Permanent.

We got in the car and I snapped a photo—our forearms side by side, our Pudge tattoos almost touching like they were swimming toward each other.

I posted it to my story with a caption that said:

Pudge controls the weather 🐠🥪🌀

Jana reposted it five seconds later with her own:

We gave Pudge his sandwich. He gave us forever.

And somehow, in the simplest, softest way, that little fish swimming toward a sandwich became the most us thing we’d ever done.

Because our family? It’s little, sometimes chaotic, always covered in popcorn butter, and probably emotionally unhinged.

But still good.

Still so, so good.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[chibinasuu]

Little Mouse | Sanji x Reader

Summary: An espionage mission gone wrong had you on the run from the Marines. You snuck onto a random pirate ship to hitch a ride out of town but were discovered by the ship’s cook, who was oddly fond of mice.  Tags: one-shot, fluff, no use of y/n, f!reader (one use of “lady” in reference to reader), mouse-zoan!reader, spy!reader, set in East Blue just after Loguetown

a/n: i have always loved Sanji’s soft spot for mice, and this idea of Sanji with a reader who was a mouse zoan wouldn’t leave my mind so please enjoy this little fic!

You messed up. 

You scurried through the streets of Loguetown, your tiny paws agilely dodging the feet of all the people milling around. 

You really messed up this time.

A couple of marine soldiers were hot on your heels, desperate to accomplish their superior’s bizarre order of capturing a measly little mouse. You reveled in their apparent frustration as they whipped their lowered heads left and right to find you, to no avail. You were too quick for them. 

Now that you thought of it, this whole situation wasn’t even your fault in the first place. You prided yourself in being smart enough to know when you were walking into a trap, and you were certainly observant enough to distinguish a lie from the truth. 

It just so happened that a member of the pirate crew you were spying on was a fool. 

You had been involved in an under-the-table deal with the Marines for over a year now, pocketing Berries in exchange for valuable information that could lead to the capture of East Blue’s most notorious pirates. It was dirty work, and you hated every second of it, but what could you say? Your devil fruit ability was perfect for this and it was a way to put food on your table. 

Your mission this time was to scout a small pirate crew, which was affiliated with one of the marine’s bigger targets. You had overheard a crew member telling his captain that they were supposed to meet the “Big Boss” on the western coast of Sixis Island at dawn. You had no suspicions at all that the man was telling the truth, because he had believed the information to be correct. In such a manner, he had unknowingly — luckily for him — passed on false intel to you, and consequently to the Marines. If you had waited an hour longer, you would’ve heard the ship’s captain scolding the man for misinformation following his conversation with “Big Boss” over the transponder snail, which reaffirmed the location of the actual meeting point.

So imagine the Marines’ surprise when they arrived at the western coast to find not a single soul. The pirates, which were positioned on the southwestern coast, were alerted of the Marines’ arrival and successfully launched an ambush, turning the table around and causing an immense loss for the Marines. 

The Marines were furious at you. One wrong intel and over a year’s worth of precious, accurate information you provided them went down the drain. You were deemed a traitor, and a bounty was immediately put upon your head. 

That was how you find yourself scampering around the streets in a dash toward the harbor. You need to get on a ship and get out of this town as soon as possible. You figured a pirate ship would be your best bet, as they were the least likely to be fraternizing with the Marines.

You were desperately running through the harbor when a stunning caravel with a sheep figurehead caught your eye. You were well-versed in the pirate crews of the East Blue, but you didn't recognize the ship's Jolly Roger — a skull wearing what appeared to be.. a straw hat?

Without a second thought, you snuck onboard, careful to ensure that no marine saw you. You slipped through an open door and found yourself in a quaint kitchen and dining room. You scurried into one of the slightly ajar lower cabinets, and waited. 

After what seemed like hours, you heard the crew, which seemed to be a very small one, preparing to cast off from the harbor. 

Your nerves started to settle as you felt the ship slowly moving away from the town of the beginning and the end. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up to you, and you found yourself drifting off to sleep to the sway of the ship upon the waves. 

The respite was short-lived though, as you were awakened by the clangs of pots and pans. You could only hope that whoever was cooking wouldn’t need anything from the cabinet that you were currently huddled in. But of course, with how your luck was going lately, that was too much to wish for. The cabinet door was suddenly yanked all the way open and you came face to face with a blonde man, his piercing blue eyes wide in surprise. You froze, fully prepared to be met with revulsion, the way normal people react when they see a mouse in a kitchen. 

Instead, to your surprise, the young man’s lips curled up into a wide smile, “Oh hey, little mouse. What are you doing here? You must’ve slipped in at Loguetown, huh?”

He picked you up gently and sat you on top of his palm, “Well, aren’t you a cute little fella?”

If mice could blush, you were sure your white fur would’ve turned red all over. No one has ever called your mouse form cute before. 

He set you down on one of the long benches on the side of the dining table, and continued talking to you, as if he knew that you could understand him, “A ship’s not a good place for a mouse to live, but since you’re already here, let’s take care of you until we can release you on the next island, yeah?”

He went back to the stove and put a little bit of what he was cooking onto a small plate. The cook placed the plate in front of you, “Dig in, Mouse-chan. I hope you like fried rice.”

The inviting aroma of the warm meal made your stomach rumble, reminding you of how hungry you were. You sniffed around the plate, acting as close to an actual mouse as possible to avoid suspicions, before lowering your mouth slowly and taking a small bite. It took everything in you to remain silent and expressionless as you tasted the most delicious food that you have ever had in your whole life. A few minutes was all you needed to clear the plate. You wished you could thank the chef, but you knew it would be wiser for you to stay in your mouse form in front of him. 

“This brings back memories.” He chuckled, though a pinch of sadness was apparent in his smile, “I used to cook for mice when I was little.” 

He took away your little plate before serving up the rest of the fried rice onto the dining table, obviously dinner for his crew. He opened the cabinet that he found you in, folded a dishcloth to form some sort of cushion, and put it inside. 

He offered his palm to you, and you tentatively jumped onto it. He smiled at your cooperation, then proceeded to place you on top of the soft fabric inside the cabinet, “My crew is a rowdy bunch. It’s probably best for you to stay in there for now.” 

He closed the cabinet door, but not all the way, allowing a sliver of light and some fresh air to come through. 

The rest of the crew eventually gathered for dinner. You had no intention to spy on them, but old habits died hard, and you found yourself unwittingly perking up your round ears and listening in to their conversation. 

You figured out that the crew was composed of at least five people – three more boys aside from the cook, and a girl. They seemed to be on the younger side, and you could tell that the crew was only newly formed.

You were only half-listening as they went on to talk about all sorts of mundane things, until the girl suddenly spoke up, “According to this map, we’re about three days away from the Reverse Mountain…”

Wait… the Reverse Mountain? This small-time pirate crew was heading to the Grand Line? With just five people? You couldn’t believe your ears. You had hitched a ride with a bunch of idiots. 

Despite your predicament, a minuscule part of you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit excited. After all, the Grand Line used to be your dream too, once upon a time. You had fantasized about traveling the world, before reality crashed down upon you and forced you into doing dirty work for the Marines just to survive. 

A little voice inside your head told you that maybe sneaking into this very ship was a blessing in disguise. You were a fugitive with a bounty now after all, so what was stopping you from joining a pirate crew and sailing freely in the Grand Line? 

The more rational voice reminded you that you were an uninvited guest on this ship. There was no way the crew would take you in – a stranger they knew nothing about, and a stowaway at that. No, you couldn’t dare reveal yourself to them. It was better to get off this ship at the next port and figure out your way from there. 

The bustle of the dining room slowly died down as one by one, the crew retired for the night. You heard the sound of dishes being washed, and you felt your thoughts being pulled back to the blue-eyed cook and the kindness that he showed you. If you’ve learned anything from being the user of the Mouse-Mouse Fruit, it's that cooks hate mice in the kitchen. You couldn’t understand why this one treated you differently. 

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door to the cabinet opened to reveal the blonde cook, “You doing alright, Mouse-chan?”

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked under the warm lights of the kitchen. 

The cook brought a little cup of water and put it beside you inside the cabinet. Once again, you were taken aback by the generosity of this man. 

“Sleep tight, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned off the lights and headed outside, and before you knew it, a deep sleep claimed you. 

You awoke to the crew’s chatter as they had their breakfast. You hadn’t felt this rested in ages. You saw that a block of cheese and some crackers had been placed beside the water, definitely courtesy of the cook, and you nibbled on them gratefully. 

The day passed on peacefully, with you taking a much-needed rest inside the cabinet and the cook sparing you spoonfuls of the dishes he was cooking for the crew’s lunch and dinner. 

By evening, you were getting a little antsy, the way you always felt when you stayed too long in your animal form. You longed to transform back into a human and stretch your whole body, but you knew it was a risk.

You heard the cook, which you found out from the crew’s conversation was called Sanji, finish cleaning up the kitchen. Just like the day before, Sanji put a cup of fresh water inside your cabinet and bid you good night, then turned off the lights and left the kitchen. 

You hesitated for a second. Now that he had left, the kitchen was empty, dark, and quiet. It should be safe for you to transform for a few minutes, right?

Stealthily, you sneaked outside the cabinet, and in the comfort of the unlit kitchen, you turned yourself into your original human form. You stretched your arms over your head, moving them side to side as you extended your spine. You were so focused on the pleasure of being back in your body that you didn’t notice the footsteps heading toward the kitchen before it was too late. There was no time for you to change back into a mouse as Sanji switched on the kitchen lights. 

The both of you were frozen to your spots as you sized each other up. Sanji looked you up and down, taking in your fitted white top and pants, before locking his gaze on your face. 

His confused expression turned into one of puzzled recognition as he stared into your eyes, the only distinctive feature that you shared with your mouse form. His lips trembled before he sounded out in disbelief, “M-mouse…chan?”

You timidly nodded, heart pounding as you feared what would come next. He would definitely rat you out to his crew, then they would probably throw you overboard. 

“I, uh, forgot my cigarettes,” was the only thing Sanji could say amid his shock. 

Silence shrouded the room, both of you not knowing what to say, before Sanji finally opened his mouth again. 

“Who… what are you?” He asked carefully, in a tone that was filled not with anger, but with curiosity. 

“Do you know what devil fruits are?” You uttered softly, revealing your voice to him at last.

Sanji nodded, “Our captain is a devil fruit user. So, you’re one too?” 

“Yes, the Nezu Nezu no Mi.” You explained, “It allows me to switch between three forms – my true human form, a mouse, and some sort of human-mouse hybrid.”

He was quiet as he took you in once again, his face lit with wonder. A trail of blood started to flow down his nostril and he quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of his suit.  

“Are you okay? You’re not…mad?” You asked hesitantly, before blurting out in one breath, “I’m really, really sorry for stowing away on your ship. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I’ve been tricking you and taking advantage of your hospitality.”

You got down on your knees, “I understand that this is impertinent of me, but I beg you, could you please let me stay until you arrive at the next island? I promise I’ll disappear after that, and I won’t trouble you and your crew ever again.”

Tears started forming in your eyes as you waited for the cook’s verdict. His leather shoes entered your blurry sight as he stepped closer to you. He crouched down before you and tipped your chin up with his fingers, “Of course, you could stay. You could stay however long you like. I don’t know what your situation is, but I would never turn away a lady in need.”

His thumb absentmindedly brushed away the tears from your cheeks as he continued, “I still have to tell the Captain, but I have a feeling he’d be happy to have you onboard.”

“Why?” You asked incredulously, “Why would he be happy to find a stowaway in his ship?”

Sanji chuckled, “Well, for one, you could turn into a mouse. That would be more than enough reason for him to let you stay, or permanently join the crew even.”

At your confused face, he laughed louder and told you, “Trust me, you’ll never meet a man quite like my Captain.”

You slowly nodded, regaining a little bit of composure with Sanji’s reassurance. 

“I have one condition, though.” You heard Sanji say as he stood up and offered you his hand. 

You felt your heart drop. Of course, he would have a condition. You knew it was not going to be as simple as that. 

You took his hand and stood up, lifting your chin in determination, “Name it.” 

Sanji grinned cheekily, “Show me your human-mouse form.”

Heat flooded your cheeks at his request. You hated your hybrid form. It was hideous, for goodness’ sake. However, you could not possibly deny the wish of this man, who has shown so much kindness to you. 

You let his hand go and took a step back. You drew a shaky breath, before allowing your power to flow over you and shift your body into the only form that Sanji had not yet seen. 

You hugged your fur-covered arms insecurely, and nervously looked up at Sanji, expecting to find disgust written all over his face. Yet, his face was filled with what you could only describe as awe. He reached out and ran his fingertips over your whiskered cheek inquisitively, “Beautiful.”

You shivered at his word and his gentle touch, before turning your face away from him in embarrassment and immediately transforming back into a human. 

Sanji laughed in amusement at your shyness, “Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me.”

The heat on your cheeks intensified, and your eyes wandered around the kitchen, trying to find a distraction from Sanji’s gaze upon your face. Your eyes landed on today’s newspaper lying on top of the dining table, the corner of a wanted poster visible from between its pages.

You took out the poster and cringed at the sight of your full name and picture looking back at you. 

“Is that you?” Sanji asked, “No wonder I thought your face looked a little familiar.” 

He took the poster from you and scanned its content. You felt your heart inadvertently skip a beat as the sound of your name fell from his lips for the first time. 

“15 million Berries?” He raised a swirly eyebrow at you, “That’s quite a bounty for a little mouse.” 

You sighed, “I guess you deserve an explanation.”

You ended up telling him everything. You weren’t sure why, seeing as he was practically a stranger, but you knew that you could trust him. 

You told him about how you left your hometown to go out to sea, filled with dreams of the Grand Line. About how you were stranded on an island with all of your provisions and Berries lost to the sea, and how you ended up accidentally eating a devil fruit to tame your hunger. Of course, you also told him all about how you came to be in this mess with the Marines in the first place.

Sanji was quiet as you talked, only offering small hums and nods to indicate that he was listening. When you finished, he simply thanked you for trusting him with your story. 

In exchange, he told you a little about the crew. He told you about his Captain, Luffy, who dreamed of becoming the King of the Pirates. You had initially laughed, thinking that he was joking, before realizing that Sanji was dead serious. You shook your head in disbelief and smiled to yourself, just what the hell were you getting yourself into?

Without even being aware of it, You and Sanji had talked through the night, getting to know one another over cups of tea that Sanji had prepared at some point during your conversation. 

The rising sun caught the cook’s attention, and he immediately jumped up to prepare breakfast. 

You trembled anxiously at the thought of meeting the rest of the crew soon, not knowing how they would react to your presence. 

Sanji noticed and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “Everything is going to be alright, Mouse-chan.”

Somehow, you believed him. 

You watched the sun creep higher and higher over the horizon, bringing in a new day and hopefully, a new life for you.

Everything was going to be alright.

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