#the microwave is spinning so quickly

[lologoinsolo]

Haunted House Masterlist

A fun little idea that’s very quickly written. Apologies for mistakes, I should be sleeping but brain wouldn’t allow.

Your alarm is blaring. It’s loud and obnoxious and screams for you to wake. You don’t want to but you have to “seize the day” as one would say. You turn to your side and hit snooze though, shutting it up and deciding that five more minutes won’t hurt. You had such a wonderful dream that you want to get back to it. It was about you being rich and never having to work another day in your life.

“Yer gonna be late again for work, lass.”

Your eyes pop open as you scream, balling your fist and punching the man that lays down on your bed. Your fist phases right on through though and he laughs so loudly that you wished you could actually hit him.

“Ah, ouch, lass. That hurt.” He feigns pain, rubbing his face and he grins like the Cheshire Cat itself.

“Johnny,” you rub your temples. Your want for sleeping in is fleeting, “how many times do I have to tell you. The beds off limits.” Glaring at your ghostly companion.

“Ye said, Johnny, make sure I stay awake even when my alarm goes off,” he mimics your voice horribly, really laying on an abnormally high pitch to make you wish you couldn’t hear. He places a hand against his cheek and the other comes around to tap your forehead. You shiver when you can feel the cool sensation, you’ve never gotten used to that. “S’not my fault ye keep sleepin’ in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” flinching when your alarm goes off once more. You groan even louder than before as you turn the alarm off. You sit and rub your face till it hurts. “Alright,” you feel his hand pressing and nudging on your back. You swipe at him like a hissing cat and tumble off your welcoming, warm bed. He laughs and lays still as you move around sluggishly. You walk out of your room even when you can hear your bed weeping for you and head to your kitchen.

Grabbing a tea bag, a mug, and pouring water from the sink in it before placing it in the microwave. Pressing the buttons and you watch the light flicker on the mug spinning slowly. There’s a growing heavy weight against your back, it press well against your shoulder and even when you try to shove him away. He doesn’t budge, a mountain of cold, hard steel that doesn’t move even when you say his name. “Simon,” you whine, trying to push him away but alas, your hands phase through him just like it did with Johnny.

“You need a kettle,” he says with so much disappointment in his brown eyes. There’s an atrocity happening before him, actually it’s happened many times. You’ve flat out refused to even boil the water on at least a pot. “I feel like I’m dying again just watching this.” He leans ever more and you’re damn near fused to your counter.

“Okay, okay,” the microwave beeps and you open it to grab your mug. Wincing and trying to hold the hot ceramic handle without it peeling your skin off. “I’ll buy a kettle this time around.” You say as you have many times over, “can you move? Please?” You hear him sigh like he’s suffering and he leaves. Disappears off into the nether and probably won’t come back until you pour him a glass of his favorite whiskey as an apology. “Fucking Brit’s.” Grumbling your annoyance as you dump your sugar and stir it in the cooling liquid. Not even bothering to blow as you drink it. You don’t really get the difference but somehow it’s always an offense when Simon sees you do that.

“He’s right,” John sits on your recliner. A cigar in hand and even though he’s as ghostly as the others he manages to find a way to smoke in your house. “That’s no way to drink a tea.” Of course he’d jump in on this, though you think he might only do that just to get a rise out of you.

“Buy me a kettle and make me a tea.” Holding the mug against your face. Drinking it defiantly and Kyle comes through a wall as quickly as you say that.

“You banned us from making drinks or food.” Holding a finger out as he nods in making his point. John grunts in agreement, smoke somehow puffing around in swirls.

“For good reason, Kyle.” The last time they tried to do anything it was a mess. And not in the incompetent way but more in the paranormal why is everything floating kinda way. “There was tomato sauce splattered on my ceiling! The ceiling,” placing your mug down on the counter. “I had to get a ladder to clean it.”

“Didnae ken that would happen when I touched the damn thing.” You hear Johnny somewhere in the room but have yet to spot him. Probably hovering in a dark spot as usual when he plans on scaring you by grabbing you. He seems miffed about the incident since he’s the main reason why they’re all banned. “Ye were sick at the time. We just wanted to help.”

That makes you feel a little guilty. Your ghosts do try to help around as much as they can but sometimes their paranormalness doesn’t always work well in your house nor around objects. So far they’ve been able to touch you with no problem but with other things though… somtimes they will float or get weird with the temperature, your hairbrush has been freezing cold here lately… one of them probably snooped around your bathroom again. You’ve gotten as used to your roommates as best as you can. Your ability allows you to see and hear hem as clear as day while others can’t. It’s a blessing and a curse with your wonderful little ability despite the learning curve.

The curve being that there’s ghosts in your house.

“Ah, shit,” Kyle pulls you from your thoughts. “You need to hurry, you’re gonna be running late again.” Kyle, ever the one to keep you on your goals quickly points that out as he looks at the time.

“Oh, son of a bitch!” You fly down the hall back to your room to get dressed. Forgoing buying breakfast on the way even when John yells for you to do so. You hobble to get your shoes on and nearly roll out your door to get to your car. Not even bothering to lock your house since your ghostly apparitions won’t allow an intruder to do harm. You slam your foot on the gas after reversing and drive off to your job. Blasting music down the road to get your mood right for the next eight hours.

[bywons]

I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF 𖥔 LIPSTICK STAINS ON ENHYPEN

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌

❪ 𝖠𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝒾𝖮 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1299wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛 ／ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

する ܃ happy new year, loves ! ( although this fic is not new years related :p )

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

you watch as heeseung stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket, his back turned to you. a playful thought crosses your mind as you walk up behind him and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, leaving a delicate red lipstick mark.

he freezes, staring back at the lipstick stain sitting ever so prominent on his cheeks, as the corners of his lips start to twitch to a lovesick smile.

“uhm— sorry ’seung, didn’t mean to!” you shoot your hands upwards to wipe the lipstick off of his cheeks. of course, what were you thinking, your boyfriend of ten months obviously wouldn’t give in to the idea of wearing your lipstick stain around. there was still some distance between the two hearts.

“and if i say i love it?” heeseung whispers, closing the distance between the two of you as he catches your wrist, pressing a chaste kiss inside of it, all the while holding eye contact with you, “it’s proof that I'm yours, and i will wear it proudly.”

PARK JONGSEONG

“ready for the evening?” jay offers you a warm smile as you both reach the destination— a thanksgiving party organized by his family.

you shake your head, although uncomfortable as you shift closer to your boyfriend, “i don't know, you think they will like me—?”

jay cuts you off, squeezing your hand in reassurance, “of course they will, you're l just the perfect girl for me,” he chuckles, winking at you.

sighing softly, both of you get out of the car, finally ready to attend the much awaited event. you feel like you could thank your boyfriend for reassuring you in a sweeter way. so you pull him closer, kissing him right on the corner of his lips.

“ah!” you exclaim as your realise it left a lipstick stain on the spot, “sorry, i'll just wipe it—”

“no,” jay whispers, leaning down just enough so that his lips touch your earlobes, “it’s my badge of honour.”

SIM JAEYUN

jake leans against the counter, sipping his coffee, while you sit on the kitchen stool watching him. the early morning light streams through the window, highlighting his messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. you can’t resist. sliding off the stool, you walk over and press a soft kiss to his jawline, leaving a vivid red lipstick mark.

“did you just…?” he starts, turning toward you with an amused grin, setting his mug down.

“sorry!” you say quickly, reaching for a napkin. “i’ll clean it—”

“don’t you dare,” he interrupts, catching your hand midair. His grin grows wider as he looks at the mark in the reflection of the microwave door. “this is art. you think i’m getting rid of it?”

“jake,” you groan, blushing.

instead of replying, he leans down and cups your face gently, pressing a kiss to your lips. his warmth and the lingering taste of coffee makes your head spin, “now we’re even.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon adjusts the collar of his shirt, sighing softly as he opens his laptop to attend his business meeting for the week. he looks so focused, his sharp jawline and furrowed brows making him seem almost untouchable. But to you, he’s your sunghoon.

before he can click into the video call, you lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a soft lipstick stain behind.

he freezes, turning his head toward you with wide eyes, “did you just sabotage my meeting?” he teases with a smirk.

you laugh nervously. “let me clean it before—”

he stops you, catching your wrist. “no need,” he says, glancing at his reflection in the laptop screen. “actually, i think it’s perfect.”

“perfect? sunghoon, you’re about to go live with your team!”

“exactly,” he says with a smirk, tilting his head toward you, pressing kiss on your hand. “let them see how loved i am.”

during the meeting, one of his colleagues finally asks, “uh, sunghoon, what’s on your cheek?” he chuckles softly, glancing at you out of frame. “oh, just a reminder from someone most special,” he says, his voice full of pride.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo sits at his desk, adjusting his hair in the tiny mirror he keeps nearby. “do i look good enough for the pictures today?” he asks, flashing you a playful grin.

“you always do,” you reply, leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

when you pull back, you notice the bright pink lipstick stain left behind. “i didn’t mean to—let me clean it!" you say, reaching for a tissue.

but sunoo grabs your wrist, his eyes sparkling. “why would you erase this masterpiece?” he teases, tilting his head to admire the mark in the mirror.

“because you’re taking pictures today! you can’t—”

“i can and i will,” he interrupts, grinning as he picks up his phone. he snaps a selfie, the lipstick mark proudly on display. caption: loved and it shows

“sunoo!” you exclaim, laughing as he spins his chair toward you.

he stands up, wrapping his arms around your waist. “you know,” he says softly, leaning closer, “if anyone asks about it, i’ll just tell them i’m taken by the most amazing girl in the world.”

your cheeks flush as he kisses your forehead. “now,” he says with a wink, “time to go make everyone jealous.”

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon sits cross-legged on the floor, carefully highlighting sections in his textbook, completely lost in concentration. you can’t resist the moment and lean down, pressing a kiss to his temple.

when you pull back, the faint pink lipstick stain is visible against his skin. jungwon freezes, his highlighter hovering mid-air, before looking up at you with a soft laugh.

“did you just mark me?” he teases, cheeks flushed as he touches his cheeks.

you wince. “well, do you want me to wipe it off?”

before you can grab a tissue, he catches your hand and tilts his head. “leave it,” he says, his voice calm but teasing. “it’s kind of… sweet.”

you blink, surprised. “sweet?”

he shrugs, leaning back on his palms, a small smile tugging at his lips. “yeah. it’s like a good luck charm or something. maybe now i’ll finally ace this chapter.”

“jungwon, that’s not how studying works,” you laugh, feeling the warmth of his breathe creeping up your neck as he pulls you close.

he hums, turning back to his notes as if nothing happened, but the faint pink mark stays right where it is. the quiet confidence in his expression says he’s in no hurry to hide it.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki bounces a basketball lazily in the driveway, his hoodie slightly askew, and his hair messy from the evening breeze. you watch from the side, unable to resist the way his focus shifts from playful to determined every time he lines up a shot.

“hey,” you call out, stepping closer. he turns, flashing you a boyish grin.

“come to challenge me?” he teases, spinning the ball on his finger.

“not quite,” you say, stepping up to him. before he can react, you grab his hoodie strings, tug him down slightly, and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

riki stumbles back, blinking in surprise. “wait, uhm,” he gulps, grabbing your shoulders as his face fumes up, “is there a mark on my cheek?”

you giggle. “dont like it?”

“no way!” he says, holding up a hand to stop you. his eyes gleam with mischief as he pulls out his phone. “this is the perfect victory look.”

“you’re not even playing!” you protest, laughing.

he smirks, snapping a selfie with the lipstick mark proudly on display. “doesn’t matter. with this, i’ve already won.”

shaking your head, you can’t help but smile as he picks up the basketball again, still wearing your kiss like a badge of honor.

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

[wqnwoos]

⇢ pairing. kim mingyu x reader ⇢ summary. snapshots from your kitchen over the years -- with mingyu. ⇢ genre. fluff, strangers2friends2lovers ⇢ warnings. wc is approx. 1.6k; alcohol consumption; each section is set one year after the previous; gn!reader.

march 8th, 2021

“There you are! Hi!” You call out as you sail past the tall figure standing in your kitchen. You move quickly between the oven, the fridge, the microwave, the work surface, your eyes flitting back to him as you talk. “Mingyu, right? I’m sorry, I know this is our first time meeting but everything’s — ”

“A mess,” Seungkwan offers helpfully from behind Mingyu. Which reminds him that the world keeps spinning, even if he does fall in love the very first time he meets his friends’ friend. Everyone talked about you, but yo'd never crossed paths with him — until now. In the middle of your kitchen, with butterflies swarming his stomach.

You click your tongue and point at Seungkwan with one hand, balancing a bowl of salad with the other. “Exactly. Put this on the table, Kwan.” 

As Seungkwan takes it from you, Mingyu stands awkwardly by the door, following your movements with his eyes, until you suddenly halt in the middle of the kitchen, throwing your hands up. “Okay. Done.” You meet his eyes with a breathless smile, and suddenly he’s breathless too, without even moving an inch. “Sorry,” you say unrepentantly. “I’m ___. But hopefully you know that already, and you didn’t just agree to come to a stranger’s house.”

Mingyu’s too dumbfounded to reply quickly, completely and utterly taken in. Bewitched, almost, staring at your open, cheerful face. “Hi,” he manages at last, and then rubs his nose awkwardly. “You have a little…”

Unfazed, you rub at your nose and examine your fingers. “Flour,” you nod, “from the — fuck, from the cookies!”

You whip round to the oven; simultaneously, the doorbell rings, and you cast an apologetic look over your shoulder, nodding to the front door. “I’m so sorry, do you mind?”

Not at all, Mingyu’s mind supplies. He’s pretty sure he’d run seven miles without stopping if you asked him to right now, but that’s neither here nor there. When he opens the door, it’s Jeonghan and Seungcheol, who both take one look at his dazed self — Seungcheol sighs, and Jeonghan laughs.

“You owe me a twenty,” Jeonghan says to Seungcheol, and lets himself in, calling out to you in the kitchen. 

Seungcheol claps a still-stupefied Mingyu on the back with a sympathetic grimace. “We all saw it coming.”

august 4th, 2022

“There you are!” you call, as Mingyu returns from the bathroom. “I’ve been thinking. You know what I’ve been thinking?” You’re veering out of tipsy territory, heading straight for drunk — Mingyu knows because you’re starting to slur your words, tilting one into the next as you slap your palm emphatically from where you’re sitting, cross-legged on the work surface of your kitchen. 

He, on the other hand, is barely even buzzed. Slightly amused, very much fond, he leans against the counter opposite you and sips his drink. “Enlighten me, wise one.”

You stick a profound finger into the air, and with an air of sagacious intelligence — “Men aren’t shit.” 

Mingyu almost snorts into his drink, but manages to catch himself at the last minute. After all, he already knew why he was here; you were mourning your dating life after dumping your recent match on whichever dating app; it wasn’t anything too serious, but as your friend — maybe even best friend — he knew you’d been hopeful. And so you’d called him up to, quote unquote, drink away your sorrows. 

He’d come, of course. Mingyu always came when you called.

“Men aren’t shit,” he repeats now, with an obedient nod, and raises his glass. 

Your head tilts to the side and you bestow a wide smile on him; he mirrors it automatically, even if he doesn’t know what it’s for.

“Not you, though,” you say, without your previous bluster. “Every rule has an exception, right?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to brush over it. He always finds himself doing that when you compliment him, skimming past it because he knows you mean it, but not in the way he wants you to mean it. “Don’t worry about it too much,” he adds consolingly, circling back to the guy you were seeing. Jaehee or Jaehyun or whatever. “He’s not worth your stress, alright?”

Your buoyant mood has simmered down a little, and you stare thoughtfully at a spot by his ear. “Mm. I guess so.”

“I know so.” Mingyu inclines his head to the side to catch your gaze, and with a start, he realises your eyes are welling up. “Hey! Hey, don’t cry!” He crosses the room in a second, wrapping you into a hug — you’re still sitting on the counter, but you drop your head onto his shoulder with a weak little sniffle.

Bringing a hand up to cradle your head, Mingyu hushes you quietly. “Don’t cry over him. He’s not worth it, you know that.”

“It’s not him,” you say tearfully, hiccuping into his shirt. “I just — I really want to be in love, Mingyu. I want someone to love me.”

Mingyu has to fight the urge to scream. Because he wants to scream, wants to make you hear how loudly he’s been loving you since he met you, wants to make you see that he’s right here. But he can’t do that to you right now. The timing isn't right, and he knows it’s not.

So he’ll wait. However long it takes.

september 24th, 2023

“There you are,” Mingyu says to the back of your figure, after letting himself into your apartment. The spare key was technically only for emergencies, but he rang the bell twice before figuring you were in the shower, and the snacks he brought were too heavy to hold on to for much longer. “I rang and you didn’t answer!”

You whip round like a gunshot, looking startled — as if you didn’t invite him over this very morning. “You’re here!”

“I rang twice,” he repeats, with furrowed brows. “What?” he says, self-consciously. “I know the key was only for emergencies, but my hands were falling off!” 

It’s like you only realise now that he’s loaded with two grocery bags. “Oh,” you say, voice small. “What are those?”

“Snacks. For the movie?” Your face remains blank, and Mingyu’s more confused than ever. “I got your favourites, don’t worry.”

“I didn’t ask you to bring snacks.” Your voice isn’t accusative, exactly — it wavers a little, bordering on touched. Which only confuses Mingyu more, because it’s just snacks.

Foregoing his questions, he moves to dump the bags on the counter — but you mirror his movements, sidestepping so awkwardly that he knows something’s off.

“What are you hiding?” He’s on you instantly, because your eyes always betray you.

And if they didn’t, your voice would. “Nothing!” Pitched a little too high, spoken a little too fast.

 “Behind you, what’s that?” Mingyu almost makes a dive for it, but you snatch it up before he can. “Flowers,” he realises aloud, heart sinking a little as he tries to force nonchalance into his tone. “They’re pretty.” (They’re his favourite too, which only rubs salt in the wound.) “Who got them for you?”

“I got them.” Your voice is still doing that squeaky, nervous thing, but Mingyu feels a sudden rush of relief that he tries his hardest to disguise at your words. 

He hums, feigning normalcy, and starts unloading the snacks. “This one’s limited edition,” he says, holding up a Pocky packet. “It looks kind of — whoa!”

His sentence is cut off when you thrust the bouquet under his nose. “For you,” you say quickly. I got them for you.”

Just like he was in this very kitchen two years ago, Mingyu’s breathless. He takes them on autopilot — everything’s on autopilot, even his bewildered, “What?”

“Turn around,” you say with beseeching eyes. “I’m too scared to say it to your face.”

“Say what?”

“Turn around!”

He turns around, and he waits. He can feel the nerves radiating off you. He hears you shift your weight from one foot to the other. He swears he even hears you swallow thickly. Louder than all of that, he looks at his favourite flowers and hears himself start to hope.

And then, cutting through all the noise — “I love you, Kim Mingyu.”

december 22nd, 2024

“There you are,” you say sleepily, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. You’d taken an impromptu nap on Mingyu’s lap while he was gaming in your room, but when his stomach had started rumbling, he’d carefully draped a blanket over your shoulders and edged his way out to start on dinner.

“Here I am,” Mingyu says, smiling at you from the stove. He lifts the spoon and beckons you closer, feeding you the soup. “How is it?”

Rubbing one eye, you speak through a yawn. “‘S good.” You slide your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your face into his back. Your words come out muffled. “Maybe a little more salt. Why’d you leave me?”

Mingyu can’t help the smile stretching over his face. “Leave you?”

“I woke up alone,” you say sulkily, but you don’t let go of him, even as he shuffles from cupboard to cupboard.

“I thought you’d be hungry when you woke up,” he murmurs, adding a pinch of salt and stirring. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Very hungry.” He lifts the spoon for you to taste it again, and you let out a satisfied sigh. “You’re forgiven,” you declare, kissing his cheek. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mingyu lowers his free hand to squeeze yours, interlocked over his stomach, before turning you in his arms to face you properly. He smiles when he finds your eyes, finally, cupping your warm face in his warm hands. “Ah,” he says softly, brushing a kiss to your lips. “There you are.”

author's note! since it's my birthday -- it's like a gift of appreciation! thank you all for being here. i know i don't usually make banners for drabbles, but this picture is what sparked the idea in the first place. and it was fun! i might do it again. (<- has already done it for the v-day drabble.)

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[lxzy-bxby]

Like No Other

Babytrapping implied ♡ Unprotected p-in-v implied ♡ Tracking of menstrual cycle

~ ♡ ~ Caleb knows you like no other. Not only you—anything related to you. "That?" He chuckles, pointing to a photo in your yearbook. "That's Jake, honey. Your old classmate, remember? The one who got you roses on Valentine's back in freshman year. Three white, two red." At this point he could gaslight you to anything, and you would believe.

Your favourite color when you was eight? Yellow, because it reminded you of sunflowers—your favourite flowers back then, by the way. You used to be allergic to dust until you got in high school. Your favourite Disney princess was Snow White. When you was fourteen, you wanted to become a teacher. Who reminded you of all that? Right. Caleb. Every time Caleb takes your oldest to pediatrician, nurses stare at him like Second Coming is happening right in front of their eyes. Because in their perception of world there's no way in hell a father who knows his children as well as Caleb does actually exists. "He's allergic to peanuts, so no, not any medical allergies. Yeah, we got the whole family vaccinated last month. Were no side effects, right. He was running a fever, like 99,85. I gave him Tylenol, 7.5ml. Yeah, I know. Been there before." As he walks out of doctor's office, child in one hand, phone in other, "no worries, honey, we're headin' out" rolling off his tongue, every woman in the room is ready to worship him in more ways than one. Caleb couldn't care less. You've never seen a bill ever since you two got married. Nor took a mop in your hands. If you're home late from work, kids are in bed, their teeth brushed, bedsheets changed, yesterday's pajamas are probably in laundry basket—which is always empty by the time you want to get to washing. Your dinner is on the table, in your favourite plate, hot and fresh, but definitely not reheated in microwave. Just prepared on time. Because Caleb knows you like no other. You leave office at 7:30 post meridiem. Hop in the bus at 7:36. By the doorway at 7:49. 7:51—and you unlock the door, finally finding your keys that seem to always get lost in your bag. "There you are," He murmurs with a wide smile, getting up from the couch after spending thirty minutes just waiting for you mindlessly, not moving a muscle. "No, don't bother. I'll hang it for you. Go wash your hands." Before you can even step in the bathroom, your coat is already on the coat rack and Caleb is already by the table, pouring you freshly-squeezed homemade apple juice. "How was work? Ain't plannin' on taking furlough just yet? Just thought, we could go for a spin, yanno. I could tell you about eveeery cloud. Maybe we can find some that are heart-shaped to prove that love is indeed in the air." He grins, chin resting on his palm as he sits across you at the table. "Ah, don't you worry about kids, honey. They all tucked in. I dropped by their PTM today. Everyone doin' good. What to expect with a mother like that, right?" Caleb smiles at you with heart-shaped pupils. "Nah, no any missions in the near future. I'm all yours, honey. All yours." As soon as your plate is empty, to the dishwasher it goes. He quickly wipes the table so he has more time in the morning with you that he doesn't have to waste on cleaning, then nuzzles your shoulder. "I'll join you in bed soon." You nod, your tiredness suddenly disappearing with his subtle promise, quickly moving upstairs. And Caleb moves to the guest bathroom. Master one is your space, your haven, than he ought to provide. Definitely doesn't want to ruin the vibe of your perfectly arranged beautiful skincare bottles with his. Hops in the shower. Makes sure he's shaved perfectly smooth so any remains of stubble won't scratch you. Cuts and cleans his nails. Sprays deodorant and a generous amount of cologne. Brushes his teeth. Applies chapstick. Moisturizes his hands. Finally gets upstairs. Then fucks you into oblivion. Wets a towel. Cleans your thighs. Stomach. Chest. Forehead. Anything that's sweaty or sticky.

Puts a fresh cotton pair of underwear on you. Throws bed sheets to the laundry basket. Manages to change the bedding with just one hand while holding you with another. Takes a quick shower to make sure he looks presentable and smells nice for you come next morning. Turns A/C on. Draws blinds shut. Then finally gets to his side of the bed. Next morning greets you with a terrible cramp. Groaning you already feel the annoyance at staining the sheets, but surprisingly you did not.

Then you feel a pad at the gusset of your panties. As embarrassing as it is, you’re thankful.

“Morning, honey. Did your period come?” Caleb’s face, looking too good for someone awake at this ungodly hour, appears in the doorway.

Him tracking your period always felt kinda overboard.

“Painkillers, heating pad, chocolates. Anything else?”

…Actually not overboard at all.

Preparing a fruit bowl for you in the kitchen downstairs, Caleb carelessly hummed a song you two danced to at your wedding.

Just two more weeks until ovulation.

If he’s lucky, it’s gonna be his happy month.

Prenatals are gonna come in mail just in time.

Then he’ll finally get you all to himself. God bless maternity leaves.

He knows you wouldn’t mind.

He’ll make sure you won’t mind.

Because, after all, he’s the one who knows you like no other.

Even better than you know yourself.

~ ♡ ~

[isenkus]

warnings for nsfw! mdni. afab reader, bathroom sex, mirror sex, loser paranoid tenya, unprotected piv (wrap before u tap), dom reader (?), they fuck in iida's office bathroom, misuse of tie. not proofread.

office visits aren't uncommon. around 2 to 3 days a week, you'd stop by the agency to pay your husband a visit. white walls and black curtains suddenly stop feeling so monotonous when you walk in with a bento box, the most delicious lunch inside that was to bring color to tenya iida's day.

so it's no surprise when tenya's landline starts to ring at 2:30pm, his assistant's voice is heard as he presses the speakerphone button. "mr. ingenium? your wife's on her way to your office."

tenya iida likes monotony. he likes to be prepared for anything. so, he gets noticed when a person's on their way. especially if it's you. tenya loves that you come by at the same days, at the same times. it's the beginning of the week, so he knows to expect a nice, hot beef stew from the menu you discussed with him last week.

even when it's on off days that he's forced to put his hero suit away for meetings and is stuck with an ironed shirt and a tie, your presence is more than enough to bring him a sense of peace.

three knocks on the door break him out of his trance, and as he opens the door, he's left puzzled.

you never wear a trench coat.

it couldn't be the weather, he thinks. it's too hot outside, and it's not foreseen to rain today. there's no umbrella in your hand, either. "sweetheart, what's up with the coat?" he asks, feeling your hand get ahold of his and driving it towards your waist. "nothing" you reply, dragging him along as you set your purse and the bento box on his desk. "just feeling adventurous with fashion today! i got your beef stew, you got a microwave?"

"yes—did the stew get cold?"

"not really, but it's about to."

your fingers grab his tie, pulling him down as your lips capture his in a sweet kiss. he's quick to pull away, face red from pure embarrassment. "y/n! i'm at work, and the curtains are open" he exclaims, and to his surprise, you spin on your heel and head to his window. turning your head towards him, you draw the curtains.

"tenya, did you ever stop to think as to why i chose black curtains?"

"to prevent any burglars from seeing any valuable items?" he asks, stepping closer, "though, i doubt anyone would rob the place. it is my agency after all."

"it's because..." you whisper, closing the distance between you and him. one hand is on his chest, and the other softly cradles his jaw. "...i don't want anyone to see you like this. please, tenya. just one kiss."

his face is riddled with uncertainty. carefully, he leans down and pecks your lips. he’s about to pull back when he hears a needy whine, which has him kissing your lips again. it’s hard for him to be so affectionate in this professional setting, but he bears through it for you. lips reunite yet again, and your tongue easily slips inside his mouth, daring to explore every inch of him.

you feel his breath hitch as his hands move to hold your hips. it’s an act of desperation, as tenya unconsciously pulls you closer. his grip on you is strong, your hands traveling to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. tenya frowns as he realizes your hips are way too smooth—and he knows your closet too well to know there's no garment that he couldn't have felt through the coat.

tenya breaks the kiss as his hands begin to untie the wool belt, then unbuttoning to reveal what he feared most. the sexiest, most revealing navy blue lingerie he had seen. as he fully took in the sight in front of him, his eyes zeroed in on the little figurine on the crotch of your panty.

it was his face.

"y/n do you know what you're doing—are you insane?" tenya whisper-yells, quickly wrapping the coat over you. "i'm working! plus—where did you even get that?! did you come here like that? what if someone saw you and—"

"—nobody saw me, tenya" you cut him short, to which he sighed from relief. you smile as your fingers intertwine themselves with his. "i came with a t-shirt dress and changed in the bathroom here, i know you'd go crazy if i didn't."

tenya feels a weight suddenly being lifted off him. "my love" he pauses, gesturing to the image of himself staring back at him, "where did you get that? a-are other people buying that too? because that would be creepy."

you laugh, "i got it customized, tenten. don't you worry. i'd sue if i ever saw your pretty face on another girl's panty, y'know."

his face grows red as he averts your gaze. "you should put the coat back on, y/n. it's not that i don't want to, but whatever it is you want, i'm sure it can wait until i'm home."

"can it? 'cause i've been dreaming about it all year."

"the year just started, my love" tenya sighs, raising your hand as he plants a kiss on your knuckles. "you really can't wait?"

you press your chest against his as your hand is on the back of his neck. pulling him closer, you whisper to his ear. "tenya iida. i designed this office for a reason. now, i'm gonna go inside your bathroom and take off this coat, and i'm going to count to five. if you step inside, we're fucking, and if you don't, i'll put on my coat and leave."

carefully, you push past him and open the bathroom door, swiftly shutting it behind you. you let the coat drop to the floor as you look at yourself in the mirror. starting to count out loud, you feel your stomach churn.

1.

2.

3.

4.

the door opens and tenya quickly steps inside. locking the door, he stops to stare. his eyes lower towards the silver chains that made up your thong, when he notices the small, shining letters.

"like it?" you ask, "i told you it's customized. got your name on it and everything."

tenya presses his body against your back, and the way his bulge aligns with your ass has you rolling back your eyes from desperation. his fingers ghost over your skin, going from your waist to the hem of your panties. his fingers slip in, slowly tracing a few circles over your clit.

he shudders, "god, you're this wet already?"

you bite your lip, letting out a hiss. with just one look at you through the mirror, tenya knows you've never been like this before. "might've touched myself before coming, so be a good boy and just fuck me, tenya."

he rapidly unzips his pants, pulling down his stained boxes. his fingers slide the navy blue fabric to the side as he aligns his leaking cock with your entrance. as he sinks in, you gasp. tenya takes the opportunity to take off his tie, bundling it up with one hand. his eyes gaze into yours through the mirror as he asks, "if you want to scream, you can do it here. i can put it in your mouth so no one hears, is that okay with you?"

you nod, "hit me, baby."

as you part open your lips, you feel tenya's coarse fingers insert his tie. the weird taste of fabric hits your tongue as your husband's cock is fully in, with you nodding as a sign.

and pain soon turns into bliss. it's otherworldly, the way his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust. the feeling of your velvety walls drives him insane, and tenya feels like he's a virgin all over again, not knowing where to look or where to touch—it all feels brand new. he looks at the mirror and sees you, one hand gripping the sink while the other keeps the tie in place, eyes watery and shut as you whimper into his tie. he looks down at your ass, enamored with the way it jiggles with every thrust, watching the silver letters jump as he sees his cock pump in and out of you.

"d'you—aah—want me to go fast?" he groans, and you desperately nod. he wastes no time pulling out as he turns you around, his strong arms lifting you and setting you down in the sink as he thrusts his cock inside you again, making you moan in return. your legs wrap around his, and you feel your core start to tighten. "'m cumming" is what you manage to say as tenya removes the tie from your mouth, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss.

you feel his cock twitching as tenya slows down, the feeling of his warm, sticky seed filling you up making you mewl. tenya comes to a halt and rests his head on your shoulder, and you smile as you help him pull out. "you really outdid yourself, y'know? never thought you'd actually go through with it" you laugh. he furrows his eyebrows, "are you okay? was i okay? let me help you, sweetheart. i think i have 10 minutes of lunch left."

there's the tenya you know and love. the one who puts others before himself always, and the one who is always on schedule.

[sugawhaaa]

☆------------Scandalous

P1harmony reaction:: wearing something revealing around them

Warnings//genre:: suggestive, fluff, comfort, possessive ass keeho and Theo, kind of some perverted content 🤭

Pairing:: ot6!p1h x fem!bodied!reader

A/N:: WOOWEE I had this in my drafts since...God damn April but ✨️here we are gang ✨️ also I'm actually tweaking over how cute this is agahenwnwiwo I need Theo and the maknaes rn. Give me ur love

Keeho ⭐️

Keeho was working in his room on his computer before leaning back, sighing before massaging his brows. He then heard the door creak open and he turns to you with a smile. "Hey, baby- oh wow," he chuckles before looking down at the floor, before quickly stealing another glance at you. "What's with the get-up?" He smirks and leans back in his chair, his index finger lingering around his lips.

"I just thought it'd be a fun outfit to wear on some nights out and I wanted to show you," you turn slightly, looking at yourself in the tight latex body suit. "I could pair it with a lot of different outfits and it'd do good for a lot of Halloween costumes," you give him a thumbs up but he's a little distracted, looking at how the latex hugs your ass and thighs and outlines your breasts nicely. The zipper is undone a little too to expose your cleavage.

"A night out hm?" He tilts his head up.

"Yeah why?" You look a little disappointed and keeho smiles.

"Oh baby, I just don't want other guys staring at you. You know I can't help but get jealous," he shrugs, shaking his head and you put a hand to your hip.

"And if I bring you with me on these nights out?"

"Perfect, so I can jump any guy looking at you the wrong way," he smiles before inviting you to sit on his lap.

Theo ⭐️

Theo was just setting up to watch a movie with you in his room. He had everything prepared except for popcorn. He stood by the microwave watching the timer go until you walked up to him, wearing a lingerie-looking dress. His cheeks turned pink but he instantly played it off. He takes you to his room and as soon as you step in the doorway he sets the popcorn down and pins you to the bed.

"Babe what are you-" you chuckled, surprised by how much he reacted. "T-Theo what are you doing?" you tried asking for the second time but you were interrupted by his teeth nibbling at your neck. You moaned softly before covering your lips quickly. You felt your body getting weak and you fell beneath him. "I thought we were watching a movie tonight?"

"I'd rather watch you bounce on my cock," he smirks softly against your skin before licking up the mark he left.

"B-Babe," his words caught you off guard and made your heart flutter. You put a hand on the back of his head, feeling his soft and light hair.

"Wouldn't you rather that too?" He looks up at you, hinting at asking for consent.

Jiung ⭐️

The two of you were getting ready for date night and you decided to be a little bold and wear something more revealing than usual. You had a nice dress that had a slit down the side, exposing your leg, and it was strapless. It also came with a pair of gloves that matched the vibe well. You throw on some heels and some nice accessories before dolling up your hair and makeup.

Jiung turns around to look at you for the big reveal and his jaw literally drops. He soaks up every inch of your body, his mouth watering. "Oh my god babe," he laughs in disbelief. "Wow, I'm way underdressed now," he blushes before stepping a bit closer. "Do a spin," he twirls his finger and you giggle softly.

You do a little twirl around in your fit, your dress spinning with you. You stumble on your heels and tumble forward a little. Jiung catches you by your arms and smiles. "I feel like I'm in a K-drama. Saving my beautiful damsel in distress," Jiung laughs and you straighten yourself up.

"It kinda does feel like that," you chuckle before looking up at him confidently. "Cmon, we're gonna be late," you kiss him softly, your cherry lipgloss rubbing off on his lips, filling his senses with your scent that makes his heart race.

Intak⭐️

You and your boyfriend were getting ready for bed like usual and he was already tucked in, ready for the night. You came back from the bathroom wearing a new pajama set, hello kitty themed, with fuzzy pants that were low waisted and a cropped and breathable top. The shirt was a little see through and he could see...

He found his face warming up and he quickly rolled over. "Huh, something wrong taki?" You chuckle before taking a sip of water and turning off the night light. He rolls back over to face you, stealing another glance at your tits.

"Nope, all good," he nods and you stretch your arms up, yawning, and your shirt lifts up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your underboob and your gut tucked in, flexing your ribcage. His face flushes a deeper shade of red as he watches. "You doing that on purpose?" He asks genuinely and you tilt your head.

"Doing what?" You chuckle and he rolls over.

"Nevermind, just...expect me to have wet dreams," he mumbles but you can still hear him.

"Say what?!"

Soul⭐️

Soul much preferred spending nights inside together rather than out partying or drinking but tonight he branched off just a little. He was taking you out to an arcade, truly a cute date idea, so you decided to get a bit more dolled up for this special night. You wore an adorable pink and white dress but there was a slight problem, it hardly covered your ass...

You stepped out of your room to show Soul your outfit and smile nervously before doing a little spin. "I really like this dress but...if I bend over can you see anything," you bend over a little and Shota blushes, your panties in full view.

"U-Uh yeah...but I'll cover you if needed!" He smiles determinedly. "It's such a cute dress, I wanna see you wear it. I promise I'll make sure to cover you, like a personal guard," he puts a hand to his head and you chuckle softly.

"Thank you shota," you smile and he nods with a gummy smile.

"I'll use my bag or just my body," he shows you his tote bag, covered in anime and Pokémon pins, with a thumbs up and a wink.

Jongseob⭐️

Making Jongseob flustered is literally your favorite thing. He always becomes a big dummy who doesn't know how to act or keep his mind off of the dirty facts. So tonight you decided to wear something that hugged your tits nicely while also showing your cleavage a lot. The outfit wasn't too eccentric, just a tight cropped top and a skirt with some leg warmers and a little hand bag but it had Seobie fumbling.

As you went to put your shoes on you continued to hold your bag and Jongseob rushed over to you. "I can take your shoes, I mean your bag," he shakes his head, blushing as he watches you lean down to put on your shoes, your chest nearly spilling out from your shirt. He blushes and you hand him your bag with a smile.

"Thanks seob," you bend over to slip your shoes on and Jongseob takes a step back, stealing a little glance at your ass as you bend over. Oh god, he's such a bad person but he can't help it. When you stand up and turn to him, taking your bag back, his eyes are deliberately staring at your cleavage. "Eyes are up here," you smile and he becomes as red as a tomato.

"S-Sorry...you know how I get..."

[midnightshindig]

Cecil X reader from another dimension? Maybe reader comes from a dimension that doesn't have superheros/superpowers (or, it's like our world were they only exist in fiction) and thinks that superheros and the GDA is so COOL!

Reader is kept at the GDA because they don't know how to teleported to this dimension, ans they have dimension hoping residue on them. (Maybe they even teleported INSIDE of the GDA) Reader also doesn't know how they teleported into this dimension.

Cecil x Reader

this almost felt too similar to the angel!reader one buuuut I love you guys SO

hcs under the cut

You teleported through some vague green portal right into Cecil's office

Like, hand delivered by some sci-fi god straight into the room

You're on the floor, hacking up a lung and kinda dizzy and super disoriented like "Gwah- bwuh... fuck... hello?"

and Cecil is just freaking out silently

"Who are you?" He asks, calmly as his possibly can while spamming the emergency backup button on his desk, lovingly placed next to his stapler and "worlds okayest boss" mug

You look up at him from your spot crumpled on the floor, a mix of confusion and bewilderment on your face. "Uhm.... Y/n. Who the fuck are you?"

He quickly realizes you're just as lost about the situation as he is, right about the same time half a dozen GDA soldiers kick in the door and send you clambering backwards like a spooked cat.

"Stand down, I don't think they're a threat...."

"A threat?! ME?!" Your mouth hung agape in disbelief "You're the one with fucking GUNS pointed at me." You stood up and folded your arms, glaring at the guards "Put those away before you HURT SOMEONE. Shame on you."

The guards put their guns away.

Cuz like. Damn. Okay.

Cecil tries to get the run of events preceding your arrival but to little avail

"So... one minute I was at home, eating my microwave meal or whatever, and the next minute, BOOM, I'm shoved through this nauseating tunnel and I land here! Terrible, right?"

After fully verifying that you... don't... exist??? On any database or within any photographs, Cecil is forced to confront the idea of you really being from another dimensions.

Or at least something similar.

He can't help but want to dissect you-- uhm... holistically, that is. Not like murder dissect.

His curiosity is piqued

it doesn't help that you glow in the dark.

"You're sure you didn't do this before?"

"NO ASSHOLE I didn't GLOW IN THE DARK- what kind of question is that???"

"Sorry- Sorryyyy...." Cecil let out a heavy sigh "Take off your coat?"

"Trying to undress me, huh?"

"juuuuust do it."

You took off your jacket, your shoulders and arms not glowing in the dark

Cecil took a step towards you and rubbed the fabric of your jacket between two fingers, the weird residue causing his fingers to glow as well

"Ah... there we go. Donald! Send this jacket to the lab and arrange to have a shower prepared for Y/n." He turned to you "We don't know what this stuff could do, best to get it off of you."

It's been a week since you've been under observation by the GDA.

Cecil took personal responsibility over you, which meant most of the time you were following him around.

This was annoying, at first, but after a week, he couldn't help but warm up to you

"soooo, do you guys have hotdogs in this universe?" You asked, spinning in the office chair Cecil had brought into his office for you

"Yes, Y/n, we have most of the normal foods you have on your planet- they don't seem that different."

"Okayyyyyy...." you looked around before snapping to attention "What about Kale Coffee Cake?"

Cecil put down his coffee mug and stared at you with a horrified expression "What the fuck Is Kale Coffee Cake?"

"So... no?"

"God no that sounds awful."

"Good." You replied with a grin "It is."

This dynamic played out throughout your first month on Cecil's Earth.

"Cecil, are apples poisonous here?"

"Are they poisonous where you're from??" He looks over at you, a mix of incredulity and tempered awe

"No."

"...."

And so it goes.

"Hey cecillllll is it normal for guys to hang out with people like this on your planet? I mean cuz where I'm from, you'd be getting made fun of for not having asked me out by now."

Cecil damn near chokes on his coffee

"IS.... is cohabitation not a thing where you're from?"

You rolled your eyes, continuing to fiddle with the Rubik's cube from his desk "No, it is, but not when one has a big fat crush on the other."

"...w h a t"

You looked up, a mischievous glint in your eyes "Oh don't play coy, old man. You liiiiiike me."

Cecil's face heated up, he couldn't believe the brazen shit he was hearing. The NERVE.

"What the hell...? That's so... you're so...?"

He wanted to tell you off, to tell you he was only hanging around you because it kept other people safe, and he needed to keep an eye on you.

but he knew in his heart it wasn't true.

He knew he could've pawned you off onto Donald or some random agent

but he didn't

because, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he thought you were interesting

and lately, he'd been enjoying your company

much to his chagrin

You stared at him, unimpressed, while he tried to sort himself out

"Uhm... hello?"

Cecil snapped back to reality and shrugged

"Your company is nice, I didn't feel the need to ask you to something more intimate."

You frowned, burying your lower face into your palms "Maybe I do feel the need."

"What?" he was getting more and more confused by the moment

You rolled your eyes "forget it, whateverrrrr...I want calamari, do you guys have that here?"

Cecil folded his arms, presuming that he would likely have to keep you pretty distant.

He didn't not enjoy your company

but eventually you would have to go back to your home world

and Cecil would have to let you return home

[sheerfreesia007]

Love Creases

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Word count: 2,118

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You find a way to show Felix that you love him through your origami hobby and he’s absolutely giddy with love over it. What happens when he decides to show his love through origami as well?

Felix walks into his apartment after a long day in the studio with Chan and Changbin, he tiredly trudges through the door and Seungmin who’s in the kitchen heating up some food looks over to him with a soft smile. Walking further into the apartment Felix drops his bag by the door before toeing off his shoes and making his way into the kitchen.

”Your lady came by earlier and dropped off some food for us.” Seungmin told him fondly as he watched his food spin in the microwave. Felix grinned widely at the mention of you before he opened the fridge and saw the containers you had packed away for them so that they didn’t have to cook. After he had told you that he and Seungmin would be living together, you had made it your mission to always provide them with home cooked meals. After that one time they tried cooking together and nearly burnt the house down. You didn’t trust either one of them in the kitchen and Felix figured it was a win-win situation for everyone, they didn’t have to cook and possibly burn their apartment down and you knew that they would have food to eat and wouldn’t starve.

”She’s too good to us.” Felix says amused as he looks over at Seungmin who nods his head knowingly before eagerly opening the microwave once it beeps that his food is done.

”Oh, she also went into your bedroom before she left. But she wasn't in there for a long time.” Seungmin said softly before he took his container of food into the living room and plopped down on the couch to begin eating while watching his television show. Felix nodded his head at his friend before shutting the fridge and beginning to head to his bedroom curious to see what you had left for him. 

When he entered his bedroom he easily spotted the sunflower tote that turned into an almost care package between the two of you. It had started as a way for you to keep all the little things that reminded you of him whenever you had to spend time away from him. But it had quickly turned into a care tote that the two of you swapped between each other normally filled with things that you loved and things that symbolized you in the other’s eyes. Walking quickly over to his gaming chair he starts to unpack the tote and smiles fondly at all the things you had packed inside. There were snacks that he loved, a new gaming magazine featuring one of the games he loved to play, a new chicken figurine that you had found somewhere, and even a new outfit for Bbokari.

He happily began to put all the things you had gotten him away in their rightful places and began to grab the sunflower tote before he noticed something sitting on his desk. There sitting on the corner of his desk was a little origami chicken, he cooed at it as he gently picked it up and turned it around and around in his hands. As he turned a third time in his hand he noticed the little written note on the tail of the chicken on one side, open me. 

Gently and carefully he does manage to open it and sees your handwriting on the inside of the origami paper and he grins bashfully as he reads the words. Everyday you bring me joy and happiness. I hope I bring the same to you. I love you. And your name was signed at the bottom making him sigh dreamily at the sweet loving gesture you had given him. He pulls his cell phone out and snaps a quick picture of the note and sends you a text thanking you for the gifts, food and cute little origami chicken as he giggles happily at all the love he was currently feeling from you.

When he’s done texting you he tries to refold the origami chicken but finds that with all the creases in the paper he can’t figure out how to refold it. Frowning softly in frustration he turns back to his phone when it chimes with a text message notification hoping that it’s from you so that he can ask you how to refold the chicken. When he sees that it’s from Chan he huffs at his friend before swiping the message away and pulling up your contact and pressing the call button. It only takes two rings before you’re answering.

”Hey Sunshine!” You greet him sounding a little winded.

”Hi love, where are you? Seungminnie said you came by earlier but you didn’t stay.” He greets you and pouts slightly at not seeing you when you came over. He hears your softy chuckle and he feels his heart start to lift in his chest.

”I’m out with my nieces right now. I’m on babysitting duty tonight.” You tell him and he smiles at your words. “I couldn’t stay Sunshine, I had to go pick the girls up from school and now we’re in the grocery store getting ingredients to cook dinner with.” You tell him happily as he hears your nieces in the background making kissy noises.

”Can I come crash your sleepover?” He asked hopefully and you chuckled softly at his eager question.

”Miss me that much?” You tease him and he laughs softly in response.

”Always miss you sweetheart. Also I need your help.” He confesses quietly and you burst out laughing at his confession.

”What do you need help with babe?” You ask goodnaturedly and he smiles bashfully.

”Can you help me refold my origami chicken?” He asks quietly and your laughter fills his ears through the phone making him smile.

”So you liked the little chicken?” You ask him curiously and he huffs softly.

”Of course I loved it. It’s adorable when it’s all folded and it hides a special love note just for me.” He gushes shyly and you coo at him. “I love the little secret surprise inside him but I’d like to keep him folded and I can’t figure it out on my own.” He admits softly as he stares down at the unfolded piece of origami paper.

”Alright Sunflower, meet us at my apartment and I’ll refold the chicken for you. Then you can stay for dinner and a sleepover.” You tell him happily and Felix grins widely before he starts to pack an overnight bag.

*-*-*-*

The next week he finds a cute little elephant sitting on the corner of his desk waiting to greet him after he returned home from a trip to Paris for a photoshoot. He grins widely and happily chuckles as he rushes to his desk already pulling his phone out of his pocket. He snaps a couple of pictures of the elephant before gently opening it to read your note that you left for him. I am so proud of you reaching for and achieving all of your dreams. I love you so much and can’t wait to see what’s next in store for you. 

His heart swells with love for you with your sweet words and his grin consumes his face easily. He then pulls out the book that he had ordered last week and begins to look for the  directions on how to refold the origami elephant. At the sleepover with your nieces two weeks ago they showed him your origami book that you had and used for whenever you folded origami figures for them. He had made a mental note of the book and sneakily ordered it while you weren’t looking so that he’d be able to refold any origami that you gifted him with.

He concentrates avidly as he begins to refold the elephant and when he successfully is able to refold it he cries out triumphantly. Standing from his desk chair he then takes the elephant and places it on his shelf right next to the chicken from last week. He grins happily as he eyes his little duo of origami before sitting back down in his desk chair and grabbing his phone to send the picture of his origami elephant to the group chat with the guys to brag about his awesome girlfriend.

*-*-*-*

The next few weeks you manage to sneak in a swan, a dinosaur, a unicorn, and a llama into his bedroom and Felix is nearly overwhelmed with the love that you pour into your little army of origami figures. Every week that there’s a new figure left on his desk for him he feels his heart skip a beat before swelling to almost double in size. He loves every figure that you leave for him and he looks forward to them now each week but he’s been working on a surprise for you too and he’s eager for your visit today so that he can show it to you.

Tonight he’d begged Seungmin to go spend the night at one of the other guys’ apartments so that he can have a nice cozy date night in with you. He had even bribed the younger man with leftovers from your dinner if he left early in the day and didn’t come home til tomorrow. Seungmin had reluctantly agreed but only because of the promise of leftovers and the fact that he didn’t want to hear what Felix sounded like having sex again. When you show up laden with grocery bags Felix eagerly helps you bring them in before putting them away in the fridge and you give him a confused look but he smiles at you lovingly as he grabs your hands.

”Before we start cooking I want to show you something.” He tells you softly before leading you towards his bedroom You raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs softly at your look before shaking his head at you. “Not like that. Stop thinking dirty thoughts.” He chastises you softly as he pulls you into his bedroom. He then moves behind you and places his hands on your shoulders to guide you to his shelf where he’s been storing all his origami figures that you’ve made for him.

”Oh Felix!’ You coo out softly and he grins at your reaction as you both gaze at his shelf full of origami figures. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck making you hum in response.

”I love all my origami figures you leave me. They mean so much to me, especially the notes inside. I love you so much and I don’t think I can ever tell you that enough.” He confesses softly to you as he brushes his lips against your neck. You’re enjoying the affection from him as you lean back into his chest and he hums softly while still brushing his lips against your neck, your eyes are still traveling along the shelf looking at each of the origami figures that you had made for him and smile as you remember the process and note held within each one. But then your eyes land on the last origami figure and you furrow your eyebrows slightly, it’s a little neon green frog. You lean forward while still staying in Felix’s arms as you reach and gently take the frog from the shelf.

”I didn’t make this one.” You say softly and Felix giggles proudly from behind you.

”No, I made it for you.” He whispers against your skin and your body flushes with a warmth that starts in your stomach and travels up to your chest settling where your heart sits. You see the little note that says open me in Felix’s handwriting and begin to gently and carefully open the origami frog. As the page is slowly revealed to you your eyes quickly dart over the words written there and feel your breath escape you in a gasp. You are my entire world and I promise to cherish every moment with you. Tears fill your eyes and you set the page down on his desk carefully before turning in his arms to cup his cheeks and press your lips lovingly to his.

Felix smiles into the kiss as he reciprocates it while tightening his arms around your waist pulling you in close to him. The two of you stay like that pressed flush against each other lazily kissing with your arms wrapped around each other. When you both are in desperate need of air you slowly pull away.

”I love you.” You whisper to him and Felix grins while nudging his nose against yours cutely.

”I love you too.” He whispers back and the two of you bashfully grin at each other.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

[impish-baby]

Yandere caregiver dragon hybrid is just spinning around in my head for days

I too have yandere caregivers spin around my head for days (._.) It's like a microwave

Caregiver dragon hybrid headcanons - 🪙🦎

🪙 - the most possessive, they might not be a full dragon but they still feel the desire to hoarde things, including you! You'll be lucky if you can even get a foot out of the cave. If you get the opportunity you're quickly growled at and brought back inside, forbidden from leaving their arms for the rest of the night for your little stunt

🦎 - they do such a good job taking care of you, right? They're the best? Prideful.. constantly seeking your approval and praise to the point it can be obnoxious. They act like a puppy sometimes more than a towering half dragon. You could try using it to manipulate them but you're just opening a can of worms, they'll look at you expecting praise for every tiny task

🪙 - you're dressed in the finest silks, adorned with so much jewelry it weighs you down sometimes. Doesn't matter if you can't move around much, you're meant to stay put anyway! They have no trouble carrying you around so stop fussing

🦎 - they do actually treat you very well, you're still a person even if their actions make you feel more like property at times. Expertly roasts meat or finds the highest quality vegetables for you, and will make sure you have the comfiest blankets and pillows for your part of the nest

🪙 - do not try to bite them because they will think you're trying to playfight and give you a chomp in return! It's hard to remember how... feeble you are. They do try their best to be gentle, but accidents still happen. (They'll feel awful, promising to get you sweets from the village or whatever you want really)

[padfootagain]

Love in verses (XXVI)

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is one of my favourites, just… some adorable stuff!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4227

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Earl

In Sitka, because they are fond of them, People have named the seals. Every seal is named Earl because they are killed one after another by the orca, the killer whale; seal bodies tossed left and right into the air. “At least he didn’t get Earl,” someone says. And sure enough, after a time, that same friendly, bewhiskered face bobs to the surface. It’s Earl again. Well, how else are you to live except by denial, by some palatable fiction, some little song to sing while the inevitable, the black and white blindsiding fact, comes hurtling toward you out of the deep?

Louis Jenkins

The pain in your abdomen was a sensation you were used to, sadly. You recognized the pattern in the intensity, you knew it perfectly after years of suffering once a month. This month seemed to be particularly nasty though, and there was little doubt on to why. Your stress was so high these days, between your new job, your research, your career, and Frank’s bloody wedding… You were drowning, to be fair. Drowning in an ocean of emotions. You bent in front of your sink, waiting for the wave of pain to fade again, closing tightly your eyes, while the microwave beeped with the heating pad now reaching a burning temperature. You placed it on your stomach, not caring about your skin, only about the pain under it.

Damn… that was a bad month…

You stood straighter again, letting out a long and careful exhale, relaxing once more. Your head was spinning a little, but you didn’t dare to eat too much for now, your nausea was too bad and you didn’t want to end up throwing up. You settled for a bit of rice and an apple for lunch.

You were supposed to see Andrew this afternoon, but there was no way you could plan on fucking up Frank’s appointment at the tailor when it was hard to stand… At least, it was the weekend, you didn’t have to deal with work, and could spend your day being a burrito on your couch while watching TV and eating junk food.

You were supposed to shop for groceries in the morning, but you didn’t have the strength for that either, so you decided that you would get some food delivered for the rest of the weekend and would tackle the issue of not dying of starvation on Monday.

You sat down on your couch, at long last, heaving a sigh of relief. You held the heating pad against your stomach, covered yourself with a blanket and grabbed your phone while you turned on the TV.

You pressed on Andrew’s name on whatsapp while the tu-dum noise of Netflix echoed in your living room.

You heaved a sigh…

… you had forgotten tea… never mind, you were too much in pain and too tired to be bothered making some tea now that you were seated.

Back to your phone, you typed your message quickly.

Hi Andy! Sorry, but I’m not feeling well today, gonna have to cancel for this afternoon. We’ll talk about our plans next week. Hope you have a nice weekend, see you on Monday! Xx

You pressed ‘send’ and started browsing in the list of movies available on your TV screen.

Your phone lit up with Andrew’s name.

Sorry to hear that! Are you alright? Do you want me to drop you something?

You were too tired not to acknowledge the warmth that spread in your chest as you read his text.

Nothing to worry about, don’t worry.

His answer was quick to arrive.

Are you sure? You want me to drive you to a doctor or something?

You chuckled at his obvious worry. He really was too sweet…

No, I’m okay. Period being bitches, that’s all. I can handle it.

He answered with a thumbs up right under your text, right when you found Pride and Prejudice was on Netflix…

Well, it looked like your afternoon was all set.

You cursed under your breath. You didn’t have any snacks. Not even chocolate… and your kitchen was so fucking far… a whole ten steps away…

Damn you and your stupid brain.

You were surprised when you received another text from Andy.

So, what’s planned for today? Did you get your groceries this morning?

You snorted at the mere thought.

Nah. Too much in pain. Too tired to go to the kitchen and make myself tea, so imagine going outside with people?! No, thanks.

I’m gonna spend my afternoon with Mr. Darcy instead.

You waited for his answer, ignoring your TV now.

The Keira Kinghtley movie?

You sent him a thumbs up.

Will you hate me if I admit that I’ve never watched that film?

You almost dropped your phone.

YOU’VE NEVER SEEN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!

OH THAT’S IT! DISHONOUR! DISHONOUR ON YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!

He sent a laughing emoji.

You’ve forgotten the dishonour on me and my cow too…

You couldn’t refrain a laugh, even though it hurt your stomach.

You don’t have a cow. But I’ll take it out on Elwood.

You could picture the grin on his face at the joke.

HOW DARE YOU! HE’S SUCH A GOOD BOY!

Elwood, my son, don’t listen to the nasty lady…

You laughed again, but quickly stopped this time, the pain getting too strong.

You didn’t think as you wrote your next text.

You could drop by and watch it with me.

You reread the text and realised your mistake; your eyes grew round. You were in your old pyjamas, you hadn’t showered and had no intention to do so, your hair was a mess, you hadn’t washed your dishes…

You wanted to delete the text, but the blue symbols under it let you know that he had already read it.

Damn it!

I mean… I’m in pain, grumpy and look like trash…

So… maybe not the most pleasant way to spend your afternoon.

Feel free to refuse.

You waited for his answer, watched the dancing dots, until a text was received.

I’d love to, actually.

Besides, I am not five, I know about menstrual cycles, thank you very much…

You bit on your lips as you hesitated.

You’ve never seen me like that.

 A pause. You guessed that he had rephrased his text several times.

Would that make you feel uncomfortable?

You thought about it for a second. Frank didn’t really pay attention to that part of you. It was cliché, but you knew he was making a conscious effort to acknowledge your period and how much of a burden they were to you. You saw it as him making an effort at the time. Now, you were worried Andrew would be the same, with typical disappointing male behaviour…

And yet, you didn’t care. You couldn’t find a way to care. You couldn’t imagine Andrew, out of all people, disappointing you on that. Perhaps it was naïve, you weren’t sure. Your answer was earnest anyway.

No

His answer came in a matter of seconds.

Give me forty minutes to come over then.

You smiled.

An hour then.

You laughed again at his answer.

Gobshite…

You didn’t select the movie for now and merely watched some crappy TV instead, with whatever was on.

You tried not to pay too much thought on how excited you were at the idea of Andy coming soon…

Andrew ended up ringing at your door an hour and fifteen minutes later, proving you right about his time blindness, and the thought made you smile. You had washed your dishes waiting for him, using a fifteen-minutes break from the pain to stretch your legs and attempt to look like a human being. The pain was soon back with full strength though, and you gave up on the idea to change into a proper outfit. You remained in your comfortable pyjamas, tied your hair up to hide the mess it was, and went back to suffering on the couch, the heating pad growing colder and less effective, but you were too tired to get up again.

You groaned as Andrew rang at your door, forcing yourself to stand. You couldn’t hold yourself completely straight, not with the pain in your stomach being now combined with a sharp stinging sensation in your lower back. You opened the door still, and welcomed Andrew with a genuine smile.

He was wearing his hair in a bun today, his glasses perched on his nose, and a warm smile on his lips as his gaze rested upon you. He looked gorgeous in a simple brown jacket, dark jeans and a black turtleneck. You couldn’t refrain the way your heart fluttered at the sight, nor the butterflies that were added to your painful stomach.

“Hey! God, you do look like shite,” he exclaimed, but there was worry in his frown despite the obvious teasing in his voice.

“Thanks for the compliment,” you stuck your tongue out, and he couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

He walked inside, took off his shoes and jacket, and it’s only when he set the bags on the floor to do so that you noticed them.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Groceries.”

You looked up at him with a puzzled look.

“Jeez… if you were busy this afternoon, you should have declined!”

He laughed, and you were more puzzled than ever.

“These are for you,” he clarified, picking up the bags again.

You blinked up at him.

“For… me?”

“Yeah… you said you didn’t get any groceries this morning. Can’t let you starve! Come on, get a move on, these need to go in the fridge.”

You let him pass, followed him in your kitchen. He started to empty the two paper bags on your kitchen counter.

“I didn’t get you much, just enough to last for a couple of days. Pass the weekend. Nothing that needs fancy cooking either, don’t worry. Mostly pasta, rice, and a few vegetables and fruits. I also got some take out for tonight, so you don’t have to bother with cooking today. Chinese, hope you’re in the mood for that. And then, the obvious ice cream, crisps and chocolate combo. Oh, and I bought you this tea! My mom recommended it once for menstrual cramps to one of my cousins, and it’s apparently pretty nice, so… thought you could use that too.”

He looked up at you then, after his little babbling. He frowned at your expression though, and you noticed the shift in his demeanour: the way he shrank, bending over himself instead of standing straight, with his full height. Trying to look smaller than he was, to occupy as little space as possible. He rubbed nervously at his collarbone.

“I… I thought it would make things easier for you. I… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping… if you… sorry. Sorry…”

But he was interrupted by your arms around him; you almost tackled him with the strength, and you heard the loud huff he let out at the impact. It took him a couple of seconds to close his arms around you too, but then it felt like he was unwilling to ever let go.

“Thank you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. “That’s… so fucking sweet, Andy.”

“That’s nothing,” he tried to brush your thankfulness away, but you could hear in his voice that he was smiling again, feel that his body was relaxing once more. “I didn’t mean to overstep… I just… I just thought it would make it easier for you.”

You spotted your favourite chocolate on the table, along with some ice-cream.

“These are my favourite,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“It’s nothing.”

You didn’t say it. You didn’t say that Frank had never done that for you. And Andrew did? When he wasn’t your boyfriend? When he didn’t even have feelings for you?

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, rubbing your back, and the caress was so soothing you were ready to cry. “Painkillers or something? I can go to the pharmacy…”

“I’ve got that covered, don’t worry. Thank you.”

“Right…”

Another cramp came breaking your embrace, you let out a groan as you held your painful stomach. You tried not to think of how your heart stumbled and missed a few beats when Andrew brushed a messy strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You really don’t look well. You should sit down.”

“I need to reheat my heating pad…”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do that, love. Sit down, okay?”

‘Love’… he had called you ‘love’… You wanted to cry…

Why were you so affected by it? It was Andy. It was Andy, not Frank, and you wanted Frank, you wanted Frank, you wanted…

He walked into the living room about 10 minutes later, carrying your heating pad under his arm, ice cream and some chocolate. He had to go back to the kitchen to fetch your two cups of tea.

“Alright… need anything else?”

You shook your head, and he settled on the sofa next to you. Readjusted the blanket so it would cover your feet. You didn’t recognise the flavour of the tea, you reckoned he had made a cup of the one his mother had recommended.

You refused to name the feeling that was spreading across your entire body, the unbearable fondness aimed at Andrew that came with it.

I want Frank, I want Frank, I want Frank…

“Alright, let’s watch Mr. Darcy getting rejected…” he grinned at you, as if he was at his happiest, as if he couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend his afternoon than to watch Pride and Prejudice with you while nursing you back to health because you were on your period…

You scoffed, trying to hide the tears in your eyes by looking for the movie on Netflix again.

“He doesn’t just get rejected. They do get together at the end, you know?”

“Thanks for spoiling it all to me…”

“Wait… you told me you read the book…”

He laughed.

“I did! I was joking, like… It was a joke. I did read it. I simply haven’t watched any adaptation.”

“Wow… Oh… so you haven’t seen the one with Colin Firth either?! The BBC series?”

“Nope…” he answered, popping the ‘p’ before taking a sip of his tea.

Two teabags. As always. The detail made you smile.

“Okay, that is going to be our next activity together.”

He laughed, but didn’t contradict you, on the contrary.

“Well, I guess my next Sunday is all booked…”

“Indeed, it is!” you grinned, but your tone was too soft not to show how emotional the thought of spending another afternoon like this with Andrew made you feel.

He didn’t comment on that, though, and you were grateful for it.

He reached for your coffee table, where he had put the two sets of ice-cream and spoons, and handed you one.

Your heating pad was back on your stomach, warm and effectively soothing your cramps. You seized the opportunity to eat a large spoonful of chocolate ice cream.

You moaned at the taste.

“Andy… this is perfect, I hope you’re aware of how amazing you are.”

He chuckled, but there was something a little sad in his eyes when he looked down at his food, a tinge of melancholy. You didn’t know why.

“Bribing you with chocolate is the way to your heart, then,” he joked, clearly stirring the conversation away from himself, while pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, starting the film.

You exchanged another smile, while the movie started. You didn’t realise your own movements as you scooted closer to him on the couch, and neither did he notice how he leaned towards you, until your arms were softly touching.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul. And I love… I love… I love you…”

You heaved a sigh after whispering the words in sync with Mr. Darcy, clutching at your heart, burying your face further in Andrew’s shoulder.

You weren’t sure when you had ended up in Andrew’s arms, but you were now. He had wrapped an arm around your shoulders at one point, noticing how livid you had become because of the pain, how you had tried to withhold your wince but failed. And it was meant as a temporary anchor, a soothing gesture that should have lasted just a few minutes, until the pain subsided again. But when you relaxed once more, he didn’t pull away, and instead of freeing yourself from his hold, you leaned closer, sank deeper into his embrace. And now, he was resting his long fingers on your waist, while you leaned into his chest.

Which was… better not think about boundaries and friendship and professional behaviour and all those limits you were breaking.

Meanwhile, Andrew was brushing a tear away, but you spotted it before he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

“I know… I know…” you patted his chest, trying not to notice that you were touching his chest. “I cry every time too.”

“For proof,” he chuckled, brushing your tear away with his thumb, making your heart stutter and expand to the point that you wondered how it hadn’t broken any of your ribs yet.

“It’s Jane Austen’s superpower, Andy… we can do nothing against it,” you concluded before nuzzling into his chest again.

“I’ll have to agree,” he nodded.

You noticed how his breathing was a little irregular for a moment, when you shifted to be a little more comfortable in his arms, but he didn’t push you away, didn’t move at all, in fact. Instead, he waited for you to settle again, readjusted the blanket on both of you, and stared at the end of the movie. His cheeks were turning a bright shade of red. You hated the thought that crossed your mind…

There were but a couple of minutes left, it was the end: Mr. Darcy had walked across the moor already, he had declared his love and Elizabeth had accepted his hand in marriage. They were waiting for Elizabeth’s father. You were staring at Andrew, the feeling of your gaze on him made him look down as well, catching your eyes with his. His hazel eyes, they looked so green now, in the rather bright light of the late afternoon, and the tears he had dried just before had enhanced that colour too. Green… like leaves bathed in sunlight during the summer… you loved that shade…

You didn’t even notice when the screen went dark, when the credits started rolling. You were thinking of Andrew, of how sweet he had been all afternoon, of how handsome he looked now, how much turtlenecks suited him, how cute he looked with his glasses…

He blinked a couple of times, as if he were coming back from a reverie, and looked at the TV again. You looked at his profile, found yourself longing to run your fingers through his short beard, noticed the red tainting the brown of his hair.

“Well, that was an amazing film,” he easily admitted, bringing you back to earth.

And indeed, the story was over. Mr. Bennett had accepted their union. Elizabeth would marry Mr. Darcy. All ended well. Black screen and a list of names, printed in white pixels…

You pushed yourself out of Andrew’s arms.

Back to reality now… and in the real world, you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank. You wanted Frank…

You looked away in a hurry, and trembled at the loss of contact, when Andrew finally moved his hand away from your waist.

You kept on talking about the film for a while, but eventually, Andrew checked the time.

“I should get going, let you get something to eat. And I mean… something proper. Not snacks,” he teased, standing up and taking the remnants of your various snacks with him to the kitchen.

And you had to tell yourself that mantra again. Because your heart was aching at the thought of Andrew leaving. Which was ridiculous because you would see him in two days. Which was ridiculous because he was only a friend. A colleague, even. And it was ridiculous because you didn’t want him, you wanted Frank. You loved Frank. You wanted the life you had with him back. You… you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank… You… You wanted…

“Andy?”

He reappeared, coming from the kitchen, and tilted his head a little as a silent invitation for you to speak again.

“Do… do you want to stay for dinner?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, long enough for you to start spiralling and babbling…

“Unless you need to take care of Elwood…”

“No, my parents took him to the seaside today, they’re keeping him for the night. He’s living his best life, trust me. I bet my dad is giving him all the treats he wants.”

“Or like… I mean… you’ve already spent your afternoon with me, even if I’m sick and not the best company today, and… yeah, I totally get it if you don’t want to stay, like… that’s…”

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’d love to stay.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I’m too much to take care of…

You merely shrugged in response, making him chuckle, clearly unaware of your thoughts.

“Well, if you’re not bored of me yet, I’d love to stay for dinner.”

You grinned.

“Grand…” you nodded, and Andrew disappeared in the kitchen again to prepare dinner.

Still, you noticed how he was smiling when he turned around, how he was blushing, too…

You ended up watching tv again after dinner. The pain wasn’t as vivid as it had been during the rest of the day, and so you were more comfortable during that part of the evening. So much so that you started dozing off, as you were watching for the nth time how Luke and Han were trying to save Leia.

You had stumbled upon a rerun of the old Star Wars movies, and settled on the nostalgic feeling of these stories to end the day. Andrew was supposed to go home after the end of the movie, once the Death Star was gone and Leia was placing medals on the heroes’ chest.

Andrew had made you laugh with his best impression of Chewbacca, and you had made him choke on his glass of water with one of your jokes and snarky remarks. It was lovely, but you were so tired you neared exhaustion by now. So, it was quite logical that you started dozing off after a while, losing tracks of the story when Han and Luke were dressed as stormtroopers.

You hadn’t noticed that your head had fallen on Andrew’s shoulder as you were falling asleep. You didn’t notice how he stopped paying attention to the movie when you did. How his heart started pounding at how adorable you looked like this. He waited for a few minutes, to see if you would stir and wake up again, but you didn’t. He stared at you for a moment longer, but you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t aware either of the longing in his gaze, of the smile on his lips as he watched how peaceful you looked in your sleep.

You blinked your eyes open again only when you felt something slipping under your knees and behind your back, felt the warmth upon which your head rested move.

“Andy?” you called in your drowsy state, still unable to understand what was happening, where you were…

“I’m here, love.”

That pet name again… were you dreaming it?

You reached up, held onto a soft fabric, and somehow, despite the fact that you had closed your eyes once more, you knew it was Andrew’s turtleneck.

“You’re falling asleep, you need to go to bed,” he said softly, his voice unbearably low and deep, it made your heart skip a few beats and warmth spread across your entire frame.

And it sounded so reassuring… so safe… He was so reassuring…

You nuzzled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. His cologne, his softener, him…

“Can I help you reach your bed? Can I do that? Is that okay?” he asked in the same caring voice, and you nodded. But then again, you would have accepted anything, for as long as you could remain in his warmth, as long as his voice came back…

You realised then that he was slipping his arms under you, it took a moment longer for your brain to register he meant to carry you.

“I can walk,” you whispered, opening your eyes again and forcing yourself to look at him.

You were too stunned when he bent down to kiss your hair to argue when he told you there was no need, that he got you, that you could close your eyes again. You obeyed, having no strength left to argue, and you wrapped your arms around his neck when he stood up and lifted you off the couch.

He readjusted your position, and then you were vaguely aware of moving, while he walked through your apartment. You nuzzled closer, your forehead brushing his jaw and your entire body trembled as you felt his beard against your skin.

Too soon, he was gently putting you down on your comfortable mattress, tucking you in, under your warm blanket.

You blinked your eyes open before he could leave, found his hazel eyes looking down at you. He seemed so tall like this, standing above your bed.

“Thank you, Andy. For everything.”

He smiled, gesture gentle and full of fondness.

“Sleep well, Y/N. Goodnight.”

He tucked a strand of your hair away from your face, and the brush of his fingers across your cheek made you close your eyes for good.

Your last thoughts were of him, while you heard him move away from the bed, recognized the creaking of the tiles by the door of your bedroom.

God, you wanted him so much…

[whoreforhorror]

Savior complex Pt. 1 (Billy Loomis X Reader X Stu Macher)

You weren’t close friends. Not really, anyway.

You’d sat next to them in class once, back when you’d been forced into a group project. Billy and Stu were the only ones without a group, and you quickly learned why—you ended up doing basically the entire thing on your own while they goofed off. To Billy’s credit, he did just enough that you didn’t report him to the teacher. Stu made you laugh once, but you weren’t even sure if he meant to. The moment the project ended, it was back to strangers. You were vaguely aware of them, as you were of every other person you’d been forced to work with.

They, on the other hand, were very aware of you. Whether you noticed or not, they lingered. Just in the periphery. It became a habit of Billy’s to trail you through the hallways like a shadow. Stu, being much louder than his counterpart, would shout to you from time to time across the quad. It earned little more than a passive, mostly subconscious nod from you. He was like that with everyone, after all.

Like last night, and the night before that, you were home alone once again. You weren’t entirely sure your parents even lived at your house anymore, given how infrequently you saw them. Decked out in a massively oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks, you found yourself standing in front of the microwave, heating up whatever was quick and cheap from the gas station.

Halfway through, the microwave died with a sad chime. Everything else in the house—the appliances, the TV, the digital clocks, and then the lights—followed in rapid procession. You froze in an instant, long enough to feel your stomach twist into uncertain knots. The power wasn’t prone to cutting out randomly. In fact, in all your time living here, it had only failed under the pressure of two particularly nasty storms. But tonight? It was clear, dark, and silent outside.

The air was still, like the house itself was holding its breath alongside you. The dead silence made your ears ring—so loud you nearly missed the creak of a floorboard not even twenty feet behind you. You spun around just fast enough to see him sprinting at you.

Ghostface.

Just like on the news. Draped in black, bone-white mask, and a gleaming hunting knife that caught the moonlight like it wanted to be seen.

You ran on instinct, trying and failing to pry the front door open. You didn’t have even a second to question why. You were already halfway to the stairs, hammering one foot after the other upward. Your fuzzy socks betrayed you—your foot slipped, flew out from under you.

In a blink, your head was on the ground. A distinctly copper taste coated your tongue. Ghostface was on top of you just as fast, knife raised.

And then, just as suddenly, he flew off of you.

A loud thud cracked through the suffocating silence as Ghostface slammed to the ground, another body wrestling on top of him. The fight was loud. Violent. There was yelling, and a scuffle—the knife skittered across the floor, far out of reach.

You shut your eyes tight, trying to quiet the screaming in your ears, the spinning in your vision, the stabbing pain in your skull. In the moment your eyes were closed, the struggle ended.

Ghostface was gone.

And crouched in front of you was none other than Billy Loomis.

“Are you okay?? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Billy placed a hand under your jaw, tilting your head to inspect where it had smacked against the stair. His fingers brushed the side of your scalp, and you flinched. Not bleeding—but definitely bruised.

“Billy? What—where—?” You had to take a breath, gather your thoughts before anything coherent came out. “Why are you here? Where did he go? How did you know that—?”

“Easy, easy,” Billy said softly, backing up just a little. “I was walking down the street when I saw your house go dark. I was just about to knock when I heard you at the front door, then saw you take off up the stairs. I saw him behind you, knew I had to get in. There was an open window—the same one I’m guessing he came and went through.”

Everything after that was a blur. Cops. Questions. Your parents swearing they’d never leave you alone again. The officers grilled you on why Billy was there. You knew what he said, but you didn’t think they’d believe it. Everyone at Woodsboro High knew the cops already had eyes on him. So you lied.

“We were studying,” you said. “We have the same chemistry class, and—” The cops cut you off with more questions. Less interested in class and more in the killer.

The important part is—they bought it.

Billy drove you home after the cops cleared you and the paramedics ruled out a concussion. Shock was their final diagnosis. You were inclined to agree. Billy walked you inside, helped you onto the couch. He offered to stay. You didn’t say yes, but you didn’t say no either.

The house was quiet again. You stared at the wall, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes unfocused. Billy watched you like you were something fragile. He offered you water. You didn’t take it.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured. “He’s gone. I won’t let him come near you.”

“Yeah,” was all you could manage. And even then, it was barely a whisper. You didn’t see it—but you could feel him roll his eyes.

The silence returned, heavy and oppressive. You shifted slightly, uncomfortable on the couch. It was too stiff. Your skin too cold. Your hoodie did nothing to help. The humming alertness in your nerves hadn’t dulled, not even slightly. Your hands still trembled in your lap.

Then—a knock.

Three of them. Quick succession. Not loud. Not frantic. Measured. Too soft to be a cop following up. Too calm to be a reporter sniffing for a quote. Billy was already on his feet before your brain had caught up.

“I’ll get it,” he said easily, hopping over the back of the couch.

“You’re not even supposed to be here, Billy, you can’t just—” But he had the door open before you could even finish. Stu stood on the porch like he belonged there. Slouched against the frame, grinning ear to ear.

“Hey, cutie,” he said, voice syrupy. “Heard you had a hell of a night.”

“What are you doing here?” Even in your rattled state, you managed to sound as exasperated as you felt. Stu just shrugged, waltzing in like he’d been here a hundred times before.

“What, I can’t check up on a friend? Billy said—” Click. The front door’s lock. “—you got roughed up, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Your mouth opened to argue, but no words came out. Billy said? When would Billy have had time to talk to Stu? You’d been with him nonstop since the incident. Your eyes snapped to Billy, who had returned from the front door. He leaned on the couch behind you, draping one arm casually across your shoulder. Stu flopped down beside you, tossing his crossed legs into your lap like this was any other Tuesday.

“We’re just worried about you, is all,” Billy murmured into your ear, tone silk-soft. Almost a purr. “After everything… you really shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“You… should both go. I… I can’t. Not after everything.” Your voice was barely above a murmur. Neither of them moved. Stu didn’t even bother to fake concern. He just laughed—low and soft.

“Oh, come on now. You don’t want us to leave. What if he comes back, huh? I doubt he’d let you live a second time.” He said it with just a little too much certainty. Your eyes flicked to him, but before you could speak, Billy gently took your chin and guided your face back toward him.

“Don’t pretend like you want us gone, sweetheart. You don’t want to be alone again. Vulnerable. Afraid.” Stu doesn’t take his eyes off you while Billy speaks. His legs are still sprawled lazily across your lap, like this is his couch, like you’re his armrest. His smile is too wide, but his eyes are sharp now—cutting through you. Watching. Billy hasn’t moved his hand from your jaw.

You can feel his thumb brush over the edge of your cheekbone in a slow, almost absentminded arc. It should be comforting. It isn’t. Not really. But your skin prickles under the contact anyway. The air between the three of you starts to shift—less like static, more like something coiled and ready to snap. You swallow hard.

“Why are you really here?” you ask, your voice quieter now. Not accusing. Not exactly. Billy leans in just enough for his breath to skim your ear.

“Maybe we were worried about you,” he says. “Maybe we didn’t like the idea of you being scared and alone.”

Stu hums low in his throat. “Or maybe we just didn’t like the idea of anyone else getting to you first.” That draws your eyes back to him.

“To me?”

His grin deepens. “Yeah. You.” Billy shifts behind you. His arm brushes yours as he sits down beside you this time, close enough for your knees to touch. His hand rests on your thigh—not quite possessive, but grounding. You don’t move it.

“You’ve always been kind of interesting,” Billy says, tone casual, like he’s talking about the weather. “Even when you pretended not to notice us.”

“I wasn’t pretending.”

Stu snorts. “Sure you weren’t.” There’s a pause—just long enough for you to notice how warm the room feels, how close they’ve drawn in. You feel like prey, but you don’t run.

“Why now?” you ask. Billy’s eyes meet yours. Cold, unreadable.

“Because now you’re listening.” Your pulse jumps.

Stu leans in next, grinning like he knows something you don’t. “And we figured you might be ready for the truth.” You don’t ask what that truth is. You don’t think you want the answer—not yet. Billy brushes a strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering just a little too long.

“You’re not afraid of us,” he says. “Not really.”

You hesitate. “Should I be?”

“Probably,” Stu answers.

“But we’d never hurt you,” Billy murmurs, and it sounds almost honest. Almost. His hand curls against your jaw again, tilting your face toward him. “We like you too much.” Stu shifts, swinging his legs off of you, by your side in a swift motion. He leans into you with a grin. “Besides,” he drawls, “how could we ever hurt our alibi? We need you.”

“Alibi?” You shoot Billy a look, your voice sharp with confusion. “What are you talking about?” Billy’s smile turns patient. Almost patronizing.

“You know the cops have been hounding me for weeks now. And you, my darling…” He turns your face more firmly to meet his gaze—dead-on, unblinking. “You just cleared me of all suspicion. I wasn’t expecting you to lie for me.” His smile deepens. “Truly, that was the cherry on top. You’re a natural.”

You feel your breath catch. “What are you saying?”

“How could I be Ghostface if you and I were in the same room when it happened, hmm?” Your mouth opens—for a moment, no sound comes out.

“Why would you…” You swallow hard. “Billy. You’re not—”

“Oh, but I am,” he says, voice dipping into something low and wicked. “Meet Ghostface One and Two, sweetheart.” 

Your head snaps toward Stu—he’s already holding up the mask, mockingly poised in front of his face. One gloved finger taps the chin of the skull-white visage. You jolt back, panic flaring, but Billy’s hand doesn’t let you move. It stays firm, grounding, like an anchor—or a shackle. Stu laughs. Full-bodied, wild. He tosses the mask aside, like it’s a party trick.  “We owe you a little appreciation, darling. You did us a big favor.” Stu comments, still cackling. Your breath catches.

“No,” you whisper. “No, you’re lying.” Billy’s expression doesn’t change.

“If I were lying,” he says calmly, “would you still be sitting here?”

You shake your head. “You saved me. You—he had the knife—”

“You think it’s that hard to stage a fight?” Stu cuts in, grinning. “God, you’re cute.” You pull away from Billy’s hand. This time, he lets you.

“You used me,” you say, voice breaking on the words. “You planned this. The break-in. The timing. All of it.”

“Not all of it,” Billy says. “The lying part? That was a surprise. But a welcome one.”

Your hands start to tremble again. You push up from the couch on instinct, needing distance, needing air, but your knees buckle from the lingering adrenaline. You catch yourself on the edge of the coffee table.

Stu’s beside you before you can move. “Careful, princess. That head’s still ringing, huh? You hit it pretty hard.” Another laugh.

“Don’t touch me,” you snap, shoving him back—he stumbles, but it’s theatrical. He’s laughing before he even regains balance.

“I knew she had claws,” Stu grins. Billy rises slower. Methodical. Controlled.

“You can scream if you want to,” he says, voice almost soft. “Your neighbors won’t hear you. But I don’t think you will.”

Your heart pounds like a drum against your ribs. “What do you want from me?”

Billy doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps closer, eyes locked on yours—not a threat, not a taunt. Just steady. Focused.

“We want you to stop pretending you don’t already know.”

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” he cuts in. “You noticed the glances. The way we lingered. You liked it. You just didn’t know what to do with it.” You don’t deny it. Not fast enough.

Stu moves again, behind you this time. Not touching—but close enough that you feel the pull. “You ever wonder why we picked your house?” he says, breath ghosting over your shoulder. “Why we wanted you to be the one we saved?”

“You could’ve killed me.”

“But we didn’t,” Billy says.

“We wouldn’t,” Stu adds.

Your throat tightens. “You can’t expect me to be okay with this.”

Billy reaches out slowly, brushes a thumb under your eye. “We don’t want you to be okay. We want you to understand.”

“Understand what?” you breathe.

“That you’re ours now.” There’s a long silence.

Something inside you coils, ready to snap. Your mind screams to run, to fight, to do something—but your body stays frozen. And worse? Part of you wants to believe him. Wants to believe them. Because the truth is, ever since the encounter—ever since the lights went out and the door refused to open—nothing has felt as real as this moment. Not the police, not your parents’ concerned stares, not the fluorescent interrogation lights.

Just this. Them. The space between you and the question you’re terrified to answer.

You should resist. You should scream.

Instead, you whisper, “Then show me. Show me that you won’t hurt me.”

Billy’s smile curves slow and sharp, like a match catching fire.

Stu exhales a low, delighted laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” That’s all the confirmation they need. They’re on you in an instant.

Stu grabs you by the neck, your breath hitching sharply as his lips crash against yours—soft, but greedy in their movements, like he’s been starving for this. His grip is firm, bordering on possessive.

Billy is just as fast. His hands start at your hips, grounding you, then slip beneath your hoodie—fingers tracing up your sides with practiced ease, dragging goosebumps in their wake.

END OF PART ONE~ Comment/repost if you want more! :)

@aghostlywhisper @stanseventeen

[ratatoilett]

episode title: the one where cooking happens (and everything burns)

nylu's note : thinking yall will see the other boys soon....

tags : @toniiiiiireads @cuntyji @nakiich @rriwyu @your-mum3000 @lulunx @heiejdhdh @oracle014 @sukubusss @noooo-onee @sanestsanstan @minasuniverse @muli-wam @bearchermer @younjunie @kunasthiast

series masterlist

INT. SUKUNA’S KITCHEN – SATURDAY – 6:47 PM

sukuna knows something’s wrong the moment he opens his front door and smells hope.

that is—something sweet, something spicy, something vaguely resembling effort and almost definitely not coming from him.

“don’t panic,” you call from the kitchen, clattering pans in the least comforting way imaginable. “i’m cooking.”

he drops his keys. “panic.”

“have a little faith.”

“last time you said that, my microwave caught on fire.”

“okay, technically, that was your fault. who leaves a fork in a burrito wrapper?”

he walks in, already resigned, and finds you standing in his kitchen like you own the lease. there’s flour on your cheek. there’s pasta boiling like it owes you money. and there's something very concerning happening in the oven that smells like melted ambition.

“what is this,” he asks, staring at the chaos.

you gesture proudly. “homemade dinner. because you eat like a frat boy who lost a bet.”

he opens the fridge. it’s empty. suspiciously empty.

“where’s all my food?”

you pause. “…in the pot. and/or the trash. depending on how you define ‘edible.’”

he closes the fridge slowly. “you used all my eggs?”

“yes.”

“all my cheese?”

“also yes.”

“my last box of instant ramen?”

you look away. “it died a noble death.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose. “if this is about the pink boxers again—”

“this is not revenge! this is an act of service!” you snap, jabbing a wooden spoon in his direction.

the spoon promptly flings a suspicious blob of sauce across the wall.

you both stare at it.

“interpretive art,” you say quickly.

“crime scene,” he replies.

eventually, he sighs, rolls up his sleeves, and mutters, “move. i’m taking over before you burn down my only sanctuary.”

“too late,” you sing, spinning away like a culinary tornado. “i already preheated the oven with the plastic tray still inside.”

his eye twitches. “get. out.”

“you love me,” you wink, stealing a slice of half-chopped pepper.

he glares. “you’re the reason my blood pressure is one parking ticket away from a stroke.”

“aw,” you smile sweetly. “that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

you hover beside him anyway, unhelpfully taste-testing everything and offering unsolicited critiques like you’re on MasterChef: Domestic Menace Edition.

“that needs more salt.”

“you need less mouth.”

“this would pair well with wine.”

“this would pair well with silence.”

somehow—miraculously—the kitchen doesn’t explode. the sauce simmers. the garlic bread crisps. you steal the first bite before the plates even hit the table.

“okay,” you say around a mouthful, “so you cooked most of it. minor details.”

he sits beside you, exhausted but vaguely amused. “remind me to install a lock.”

“on your heart?” you grin.

“on my fridge,” he deadpans. “you’re a plague.”

“a loveable plague.”

he says nothing. just chews, slow and steady. and then—

“…this is actually good.”

you beam. “you’re welcome.”

he glances over, barely fighting a smile. “still banning you from the stove.”

you toast your glass of sparkling water to his. “to chaos, carbs, and cohabitating without admitting it.”

he doesn’t toast back.

but he doesn’t stop you from refilling his plate, either.

and when you fall asleep on his couch after dinner—flour still smudged on your cheek, surrounded by dirty dishes and warmth—he lets you stay.

because maybe, just maybe, this kind of mess is the kind worth keeping.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Monday's are always difficult. Especially as you cling to the good vibes of a girls' night out. The mood was a bit spoiled by the presence of few unexpected bosses but Elfie and Billie kept you all on track. Still, it wasn’t enough, you’re not ready for another week. 

You might not be but you make sure Mr. Hansen is. You have everything on his desk waiting. His coffee is in a travel thermos keeping warm, his daily itinerary is ready for him, and when he gets in, you’ll go to get his breakfast so it’s hot and fresh. 

You yawn and uncrinkle a pleat in your dress skirt. The brilliant shade of green is as bright as an emerald with a trim of yellow at the collar, belt and hem. It's loud but you don’t mind a bit of boldness. 

Mr. Hansen rushes by so quickly he catches you by surprise and your barely catch sight of him over your monitor as you snap your teeth down around another yawn. He’s so quick, he’s a blur. His door shuts behind him sharply and you stand as you go rigid as a pole. Oh no, what now? 

You don’t linger to figure it out. What you know about Mr. Hansen is that it’s best to let him simmer down on his own. The time it takes you to get his organic wrap should be more than enough. You head off with your purse and a bounce in your step.  

It feels good to be moving around. If you’d sat any long, you would risk an ambush nap. You can’t imagine your boss would appreciate that. 

You get to the bistro and put in your usual order. They know you there. They have a ticket ready to ring up and you pay with the company card. You step aside and chatter with the girl at the till about her film class in college. She’s sweet and very passionate about independent movies you’ve never even heard of. 

You claim your order and the complimentary iced tea Kamila made you. You thank her extra and head out, making note to return the favour the next time you stop by. You rush back to the office building a block over and barrel into the elevator. You smile at a man from the eight floor and wait for yours to ding. 

You carry on through the ritual of readying Mr. Hansen’s breakfast. You zap it in the microwave just to make sure it’s still warm and set out the porcelain plate. You lay it out with the little side of greens and tomato salad and leave your iced tea on your desk. 

You knock on Hansen’s door. No answer comes but you know better than to let yourself in. You knock again and put your ear to the door. A third time gets you a response. 

“Fast,” he demands from the other side. 

You open the door and declare your purpose, “Breakfast, Mr. Hansen!” 

You bound over as he keeps the back of his chair to you. You can see the top of his head over it despite his efforts to hunch down. Is he hiding? You put the plate where you usually do as he angles away from you. Is it Mr. Hansen? His hair isn’t that dark... 

“Mr. Hansen, is everything okay?” You ask tenuously. Silence. You hold your breath as he doesn’t move. You gulp and take a step back. “Sir...” 

“Fine,” his hits the armrest and spins around. 

You let your breath out with a gasp. Oh god. His hair is pitch black. The box dye has that blueish tint to it and is less than complimentary to his skin tone. Not to mention he didn’t touch the mustache. You do your best to control your expression and your. 

“Oh, wow, Mr. Hansen, did you get a new tie--” 

“Shut up!” He roars, “it’s not funny.” 

“Nothing’s funny, sir, I didn’t laugh.” 

“I can see your cheek...” he wiggles his finger tersely, “don’t.” 

“Sir, really, I’m not,” you assure him, evening out that ripple in your stomach and your breath. “You know, when I was in college, I killed my hair with bleach and died it green.” 

“Yeah, because green looks so good on you,” he chirps as he scowls at your dress. 

“Thanks, sir,” you smile, “but there is a point. I hated it. I got colour remover and managed to get to a decent brown.” 

“Colour remover?” He narrows his eyes. 

“Not as harsh as bleach but it stinks like rotten eggs. I think you could probably get at least a few shades lighter. And since it’s not green, you won’t go greener. Shouldn't.” 

He shifts his glare to the wall and his forehead pinches. His nose crinkles by his nostrils and he pokes his cheek with his tongue. He clucks and shakes his head. 

“Fine, go get it.” 

“Oh, uh, me? Sir--” 

“No one else is seeing me like this so go fucking get the remover,” he rolls his chair towards the desk and snatches up the wrap, “that shade of green makes my eyes bleed.” 

You give another gentle expression. You truly pity him. You’ve been there before. He was only trying to feel better about himself. To try something new. It happens, but you’re not so sure he should trust you to fix this one. 

There’s not much of a choice. You go back out to your desk and grab your iced tea and purse. Off to the pharmacy. It's kind of fun. An unexpected adventure to keep yourself from falling asleep. It’s exactly what you need. And who knows, if you can help Mr. Hansen get the inky dye out, he might lighten up. Literally.   

[muddy-water-1997]

𝖣𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖠𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

"𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗋 ��𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌; 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍." - 𝖯𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖡𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗍𝗍.

𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

𝖳𝖶: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗆𝗎��, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

Bangchan: Building flatpack furniture

"I’m pretty sure that’s not where that goes.” You tilt your head toward Chris, confusion etched on your face as he tries to fit a square piece of wood into a circular hole.

“Tell that to Ikea!” he scoffs, trying a few more times before giving up and looking at the instructions.

“Babe,” you say with a sing-song tone, reaching over the pile of wood to take the instructions. “They’re upside down.” You laugh as you flip the paper and hand it back to him.

“Oh! Well, that makes a lot more sense.” Chris chuckles, searching for the correct piece. “So the circle goes into the circle…” he mumbles, finally matching the two pieces. You laugh, returning to your part of the flatpack puzzle.

“Why don’t we just do this later, babe? We could be doing something much more exciting right now,” Chris suggests with a mischievous grin.

“Christopher. No. You’re not distracting me from building furniture with sex again!” you say, firmly putting your foot down.

“Well, at least I know how to make sure we finish that job…” he replies with a wink. 

Lee Know: Dancing in the kitchen when cooking

Sure, it was cliché, but nothing could stop you from dancing around the kitchen while cooking breakfast for the man you loved. Knowing Minho had a long night at the studio, you had your headphones on in a feeble attempt to keep the volume low so he could sleep. While he was a dancer by trade, you were more of a dancer by passion—or, instead, someone passionate about dancing despite being terrible at it, moving with the grace of an elephant in ballerina shoes.

It wasn’t unlike you to listen to your boyfriend's music in secret; you’d never admit it to his face—the relentless teasing about being a fan while sleeping in his bed wouldn’t be worth it. So, it was mornings like these where you could happily sing along to "God’s Menu" while whisking away at the pancake batter.

“Cooking like a chef, I’m a five-star Michelin,” you sang, mimicking Felix’s voice as you whisked and spun around the room, mindful of your voice level so you could bring Minho his pancakes in bed. After one last spin, you locked eyes with him, leaning against the counter by the door, clapping slowly, his heart eyes almost popping out of his head.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, jumping in surprise. “I tried to stay so quiet! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologised, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

“I don’t know what I’m more offended by: the fact you were going to let me miss this, or that you weren’t singing my part,” he teased with a playful grin.

Changbin: Repairing a broken appliance

"Binnie, baby, it’s a microwave. I think we should just call someone or maybe just buy a new one," you suggest, reaching for his toolkit to prevent the inevitable disaster of him putting something metal inside the machine.

“No, bunny, it’s fine! I know what I’m doing,” he insists, reclaiming the toolkit and placing it back on the counter.

“You’re in an idol group; you’re not exactly an electrician. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself… or me,” you say tentatively, cringing every time he picks up a tool.

“I’m in a studio with electrics all the time. Trust me, it’s fine,” he reassures you, though his expression is puzzled as he examines the back of the microwave. He picks up a screwdriver, placing it against the panel to unscrew it.

“Wait!” you quickly interject. He turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “It’s still plugged in,” you whisper, teeth clenched at the near-disaster. He puts down his tools and grabs you in his arms, sitting you on the kitchen island planting a kiss to your lips.

“Maybe we should just call someone,” Changbin laughs in defeat, finally relenting.

Hyunjin: Changing the bedsheets

“We were so close!” Hyunjin exclaimed, bursting into laughter as another corner of the bedsheet popped off the mattress and landed in the middle of the bed.

“Are you sure this is the right size?” you asked, gasping for air between laughs. This had happened at least three times, and you were starting to suspect he was doing it intentionally just to make you smile.

“It’s the same sheet! It’s just been washed,” he insisted, trying to secure the corner back in place and struggling yet again.

“I’ll work on the sheet; you focus on the duvet,” you insisted. “Watching you do this over and over is going to give me a hernia.” You playfully swatted him toward the pile of duvets and covers. He relented, letting you take charge of the bottom sheet. You quickly pushed the corner into place.

“See, that wasn’t too—oh, shit.” As soon as you went to admire your work, another corner sprang free, sending you both into another fit of laughter.

“If we’re lucky, we might get into bed before the sun rises,” Hyunjin teased.

Han: Leaving notes around the home

Han had been away on tour for three agonising months. It was always the same when he left; nothing ever felt right. The apartment was too quiet, too clean; it didn’t feel like home. After his first long trip and realising how much it affected you, he started leaving little notes around the house in unexpected places. Even three months later, you were still finding new ones.

You both love this tea; you save it for special occasions—family, guests, and moments like these when you’re missing him more than usual. As the kettle boils, you rummage through the back of the cupboard and find the little metal tin you keep it in. Opening the lid, the sweet aroma fills the air, instantly reminding you of him. Reaching inside, you pull out another note. Reading it brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly grab your phone to tell him you found another one.

“Missing me so much that you got the tea out? I guess you must have hit the three-month mark. I miss you too, angel. - Hannie.”

Felix: Playing a competitive video game

“No fair! You cheated!” Felix exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen in front of you both in shock. The tea on the table had gone cold, forgotten over the shouting and screaming from the two of you going head to head. Any on-looker wouldn’t believe you were madly in love with each other if they happened to pass by.

“Beginner's luck, what can I say?” you replied, leaning back into the sofa with your arms up, basking in your victory.

“It’s Mario Kart beautiful, there’s no beginner's luck!” He laughed, leaning over to kiss you as a reward.

“You know, baby, if you weren’t such a passenger princess—” you began, only to be cut off.

“Not you, too! I get enough of this from Channie-hyung. When do I have time to learn to drive?” he protested playfully, putting his remote down and moving closer to you.

“Well, Seungmin managed it…” you teased as he moved closer, trapping you beneath him with a roll of his eyes.

“One more round,” he pleaded, his lips brushing against yours. “Loser has to make dinner?” he suggested.

“Bet,” you whispered back, kissing him softly.

Seungmin: Deciding on what takeout to eat

You loved Seungmin wholeheartedly, but decisiveness wasn’t one of his strong suits. He sat at the table, surrounded by at least five different menus from local takeout spots, trying to decide what to order for dinner.

“At least three of these places serve ramen; just pick one!” you insisted, knowing you would end up ordering ramen anyway.

“But do you want ramen?” he asked, his eyes focused on the menus you hadn’t taken.

“Maybe after we’ve eaten…” you laughed at the innuendo, but Seungmin was too engrossed in the menus for the joke to register. “Minnie, love, it’s just food. I really don’t mind! Whatever you want,” you reiterated. He picked up a menu for a Chinese restaurant. Maybe he was going to stray out of his comfort zone. Then he put it back down and reached for one you had taken from him.

“Okay, okay. We’ll order from here. Their ramen is always good; can’t really go wrong,” he stated.

“You’re so predictable.” You laughed, standing up from the table to grab your phone to place the order.

“Hey! I just got the ramen joke!” he called after you, laughing.

IN: Binging trashy reality TV

“Come on! One more!” IN pleaded from the other side of the sofa. You were wrapped up in a long blanket, your legs intertwined with his, a bundle of snacks between you.

“Innie, I’m so tired!” you protested, eyes half-closed as he hit the 'Next Episode' button on the screen. You glanced at your phone; it was 11 pm. You’d been watching the same show for the past six hours, only taking breaks for meals and bathroom visits.

“Oh baby, but they’re just about to confront the cheater, and I don’t want to watch it without you…” His eyes were wide, pleading. How could you say no to him?

“Fine, one more,” you conceded easily. “But you’re bringing me breakfast in bed in the morning.” You joked, knowing he would move heaven and earth to make you happy. Truthfully, you were eager to see the cheater confronted by his three ex-mistresses.

“Deal!” he agreed, his face lighting up with excitement as the episode started.

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌!

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

[hoes4matthew]

Warnings: fluff / little!chris / little!matt / cg!reader / bad spelling and grammar / low-key short

Summary: building a gingerbread house with chris :3

A/N: my first age regression fic yippe

Chris excitedly ran inside with the gingerbread house you recently bought whole grocery shopping. Matt happily ran a little bit behind him with a box of hot coco and marshmallows in his hands. They both excitedly ploped their things down on the kitchen counter.

You walked in with the rest of the groceries and shut the door behind you. Almost as soon as you put the groceries away you see Chris run up next to you.

"mama! can we make it now!? Tan we???" He bounced up and down excitedly. He's been so excited to build it ever since he saw it in the grocery store. Ranting about his ideas on how he was gonna decorate it.

"Of course! How about you get the stuff out of the box for me while I put the groceries away." He quickly nodded quickly. He ran back over to the kitchen table where the box was. He quickly and sloppy opened the box, nearly ripping it half.

It didn't take you long to put the groceries away. You walked over to Chris who's been waiting anxiously for you to be finished. He'd layed out all the different pieces and decorations.

"Alright bud!" You looked up to see Matt across the table hugging his stuffed animal and watching you two. He had his cosy Christmas blanket around him. "You wanna join baby?"

Matt shook his head. "I watch." He said quietly, laying his head on the table. Matt wasn't into the messy stuff. He was more of a cuddle with a hearted blanket while watching a christmas movie type person.

"That's okay." You smiled before you saw Chris attempting to build one of the walls himself. Which quickly failed, he let out a little groan of annoyance once the walls collapsed.

"Aw, it's okay bud! Let me help you." You two worked together while you helped build the house. He held up the walls while you used them, not at all helpful, icing. After some failed attempts and a near breakdown, you managed to get it to stand. Chirs let out a happy gasp of happines. "Thank 'ou mama!!"

"Your welcome darling! You can decorate however you want." Chirs turned too you nodding. He began carefully putting this icing on the roof of the gingerbread house. It's honestly the most focused you've ever seen Chris.

You heard Matt shyly mumbled something. You looked over to see him holding up a box of hot chocolate up. He had his favorite snoopy mug next to him.

"You wanna make hot chocolate?" He quickly nodded, getting out of his chair and running over to you with his cup and the hot chocolate.

You let him pour and mix everything himself. Besides the milk, which he requested you to pour. After the last time he spilled it on himself he didn't wanna pour his own milk anymore. He mixed it all up and put it in the microwave. He pressed the buttons as you told him how much time it needed. "Good job baby!" He smiled proudly as you praised him.

Then he quickly turned back to the microwave, swaying back and forth as he watched his cup spin around. Meanwhile Chris was adding his finishing little touches to his gingerbread house. You watched as he stuck a circle peppermint on the front. He'd somehow gotten frosting all over himself in the short amount of time you were turned away from him.

"That looks really good Chris." Matt tugged on your side as the microwave beeped. Pointing over to it. You laughed at his excitement before taking it out the microwave.

"Do you want whipped cream?" He thought for a moment before nodding. He watched you as you got the whipped cream and put some on top of his hot chocolate. He let out a happy squeak like noise.

"thank ou' so much mama!" He took a sip and nodded contently, going back to his seat and watching while Chris added one last decoration onto his gingerbread house.

"tada!" Chris steps back and looks at it proudly. There were sprinkles all over it in random places along with icing covering the whole roof, and apparently him too.

"Woah! It looks amazing!'' Chris held his head up proudly. Making sure you put it right in the middle of the table so anybody could see.

"Hey how about we all get cosy and watch a Christmas movie?" You didn't have to say that twice for Matt to be rushing to the couch. Meanwhile Chris changed into a new, clean shirt. He wanted to pick his own shirt.

"snowman!!" Matt kicked this feet happily. While you two got all ready to watch the movie, Chris was still oogling over his gingerbread house.

He eventually came over with you and Matt, He jumped onto the couch next to you and Matt with one of your holiday sweaters on. Leaning on your shoulder while Matt was on your lap.

This is kinda butt I'm so sorry

@cl4re-cain @1c3b4th @fratboychrisera @cherry-red-heart @mattybsgroupie (sorry is anybody from my taglist being tagged doesn't fw stuff like this 😢 you dont have to read if you donf fw kt c: )

[neverenoughmarauders]

Jily F1

Now that the F1 2025 season is well underway, I couldn't help but look up the Phoenix, my Jily F1 microfic from last year. I had to giggle that James is being kicked out of Ferrari and is forced to go to McLaren - MATE, that's excellent!!!

The Phoenix

'Mum, it's starting!' 

'Coming darling,' Lily replies as she tears open the bag of microwave popcorn and empties it into a bowl.

The familiar opening theme of F1 drifts into the kitchen. 

'You'll miss him!' Harry complains.

Lily knows she won't. James was fourth in the championship last year, meaning there are sixteen other drivers to be displayed before him - and Lily is already making her way to the living room. 

'There he is!' Harry jumps up from his regular spot on the floor - right in front of the television - and points at the screen eagerly.

'There he is,' Lily agrees, looking at her husband in all Ferrari rosso. 

James had worked hard to get to wear those colours, and yet... Lily misses the time he drove for Williams. She immediately hears James' voice in her head: "Lily, there was no team I'd rather win championships with than Williams."

In the end, it was Ferrari that had been able to help James clench the world title - more than once.

Lily hands her son the bowl of popcorn and takes a seat next to him. When in Rome, and all that.

As the cars drive around on the formation lap, the screen shifts to the Ferrari pitwall, where Sirius is talking into his headphones - presumably to James.

Their friendship has gotten a lot of media attention ever since Netflix launched Drive to Survive. "#Never see one without the other" "Five things we learned about Potter from Black's wedding speech." "The Potter-and-Black double act through the years."

'The question is,' Rolanda Hooch asks, 'now that James Potter is going to McLaren, will Black remain with Ferrari, or follow the man who is not just his colleague, but also his best friend?'

'Follow Potter to McLaren, surely,' Ludo Bagman answers.

He’s right, of course, though Bagman isn't to know that.

The three-time world champion, kicked out and replaced by the ever hungry Jones. Just like that... What is it they say on Drive to Survive again? You're only as good as your last race. Of course Sirius isn't going to keep working for Ferrari after they terminated James' contract.

The cars are all lined up now.

'IT'S LIGHTS OUT -' Bagman bellows.

'AND AWAY WE GO!' Harry joins in.

Lily feels her heart hammer in her chest. It doesn't matter how many times she has watched these race starts, they still make her nervous. 

At least it's not raining.

While the commentators are screaming about Crouch Jr and Ryan competing for the lead, Lily watches as James skilfully pulls the car to the left and charges past some cars. 

'LOOK AT POTTER!' Bagman exclaims. 'AFTER A DISAPPOINTING QUALIFYING HE HAS ALREADY MADE IT INTO THE POINTS.'

Bagman is right. James is already up into 10th.

'And there's a yellow flag in sector one,' Hooch cuts in. 'Now why is that?'

'It is Lockhart,' Bagman booms. 'Lockhart has had yet another a spin!'

'That man can't drive,' Harry says looking at Lockhart's car with distaste.

The camera follows Lockhart as he gets the car pointing the right way and re-joins the track. Then it shifts back to Crouch and Ryan. 

'Will Ryan be able to build up the necessary gap before DRS is enabled?' Bagman asks.

Lily doesn't care much, her eyes following James as he appears in the background.

'It doesn't look -'

'THAT IS A BIG CRASH. THAT IS A BIG BIG CRASH.'

Bagman swears. Hooch doesn't answer. 

Silence.

In all her years, Lily has never experienced that the commentators have stopped talking. The camera has already shifted away - but not before they had all caught glimpses of the fire - the explosion. 

It's James. 

Lily hadn't seen - it had all happened so quickly. But she knows it is James with gut wrenching certainty. She knows because her life is too good to be true. She knows, because this is racing and people die.  

Lily grabs the remote control and is about to turn off the television when Harry cries out: 'Don't.'

Lily hesitates. 

'And we can now confirm that it is Potter,' Hooch says. 

Lily can't do this. 

The screen goes black. 

For a second Lily pretends that it hasn't happened. That if she turns on the television again James gets another go. Like in the simulator.  

Except this isn't a simulator. James is either dead or being burned alive.  

Harry snatches the remote out of her hand and turns on the television again.

'Harry, no, darling -'

'DON'T!' Harry shouts again. The remote is shaking in his little hand. 'I need to - I have to - he'll be fine. It's dad!'

Harry turns his little face back to the television. Conceding the fight, Lily pulls her son onto her lap and holds him tightly. 

The camera is showing the Ferrari pitwall, and Lily sees the back of Sirius' head, his face buried in his hands. Then someone next to him taps Sirius forcefully on the shoulder. 

'IT'S - I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!' 

Bagman is back. The camera shifts to an overhead shot of the accident. Lily watches in disbelief as a marshal rushes forward towards the ball of fire. 

Suddenly Lily sees him. 

'HE IS ALIVE!' Bagman shouts in disbelief.

Lily watches as the marshal pulls James - standing - upright - alive - out of the fire. She cannot see James clearly, not from this angle - not from this distance - but Lily sees enough. 

More marshals come forward, and James is helped to the medical car. 

Still walking. Still conscious. Still alive.

'I TOLD YOU!' Harry shouts. 'I told you he'd be fine.'

Lily can't speak. Not now. Not when she suspects James is walking - pushing so hard to appear fine - because he knows they are watching, and because he wants them to know he's safe. 

'Why are you crying mum?' Harry asks confused. 'Dad's okay. He's like a phoenix.'

James might not be okay, but he's alive. Lily hugs Harry tightly. 

'Mum's being silly, that's all.'

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