#yep that not always works smooth

[oloohyeah]

To whom it may concern. Hi I'm Tobi I used to be your classic best costumer. Unfortunately I found myself expelled from your casino with a thing It hard to believe it coz to my expel 3:30am I went to the toilet and only took my shirt and with a wet paper I whipped a week without a room at the casino, which they suddenly deny me and ros room rate $ 70 a night, my security deposit to $140 basically they aimed to get rid of me in all costs.

But my real story begins 2 and a half years ago 7:00am when I came to play next to the round bar at the games that are similar to the lighting games and they also connected to a jackpot. At the time I came it set on $ 94k. I insert $100 bill and fix to 5 cent denomination and started playing. On the third roll suddenly I see first ball that came was super grand jackpot and 5 other that I do not recall their prices , all together came to 6, and It went to the bonus round. Before I'll tell you what happened, i wish to take you few days before. The day when calculated my losses, I have realized that I lost over $100k. in periocular 75-80%- of the time I spent in the hard rock casino, so I started to check why is that I only losing so as I check and pay attention to people that are getting hand pay I realize that many of those and Changed the denomination 2c 5c 10c etc. I then went and try the new thing and believe it or not I hit the major ( green) two times. I was so thrilled. At evening came, i was looking to play the lighting again when I felt someone is following me. I immediately left my game came to him and said: sir why are you following me? He immediately said: no sir I don't, sorry. He raised his hand and immediately call the waitress that walked by, and told me do you need anything? I replied: no sir thanks and went back to my machine where I was playing. Few minutes I saw someone peeping from the left and kind of hide behind a peer. I stopped again playing and walked over this peer where I saw this tall black guy and behind him the one that was following at first time. Again I asked: sir why are you following me what's wrong? The Black guy look back at the first guy that gave him a yes sign, and this tall black guy then said: (I quote him word to words) sir we want you to loose your money and get the fuck out of here. Well he didn't have to say it in such a bad words I'm fully understand the basic and I'm even agreed with the basic but I was already more then $100k minus and being in Atlantic city was some what the most great thing that I have experience even after I lost so much. Yet I had really great time. Day after the incident an outside investigator came and interview me for few hours. I have told him that the one that following me is a gentleman that used to stand next to the waitresses peer and I believe he was the head in charge of them waitresses. After, there was no longer someone that followed me on the floor.

Three day later at 7:00am I left my suite and came down walk to the area next to the round bar and set on one of the machine in the middle of the area that all was connected with a jackpot that set on $94k +- as I said I changed the denomination to 5 cent insert $100 and started playing on the third roll the first ball that fall was super grand jackpot the color and the shape lead me to the jackpot with this came another 5 other to make it 6 all together to the bonus round of course I was eiger to take a photo but as usual I respected the rules of no photos and in my mind I was 100% trusted the institute as to my win and my security 100% tbh I even didn't care for the bonus round that ends after short while. Then I look up and as the show display begins quickly it ceased and $1000 as my wins wait I checked the denomination it showed 1c now wait I said to myself since there was no one at the floor next to the round bar, I have been by myself. I immediately called the technician, she came, open the machine and said something like it can't recall past. I remember, I said what, raised my voice since I was upset. She then called using her radio and few after two guys with suits came (Italian looking guys one was older, a bit bald and the other was younger) I sure remember the old ones that did all the talking. I explained to him and asked him to check it by the many cameras that was stationed on top. He looked at me and said: we do not check this thing on camera. Wait. I'm confused I replied if I would have stolen from you or anyone on the floor you would immediately used you camera to detect the crime but if the fault conserning you then you're lacking to check that important issues. They immediately held me and threaten to kick me out for my behavior and I apologize but I was so upset of the bad interaction with this two suits Italian looking guys specially the elder one. ( Look at the time I was sure that I got only $1000 coz the denomination was 1c but I was 100% remember that I have set it on the 5c and that was the argument but as I took time to read and understand the game rules, that this game was nothing to do with the 1c or 2c or 5c even if you set it on any denomination if the ball that said in words and it's color that's the price of the jackpot you need to get as long as it fall with 5 other to make it 6 or more to get the price indicate at the top which was the big one super grand jackpot.

Few days after I left the casino and Atlantic city NJ sad I have lost faith with all the system for 2and a half years I didn't even came close to gambling untill February 7 when I decided to give it one more shot. I came back to a place I always love care and felt like home. Well they didn't like me I guess. Btw one night I saw that old man playing the luxury line slot machines, i immediately approach him and said: hey do you remember me? He looked at me and it was obvious he was drunk and then I said: I'm the one you denied the jackpot back then. He then said oh your the bad dude. Why bad I said immediately I really felt offended no I'm jocking he then said. I do not believe he is working on the casino floor coz it was the last time I have saw him. I just wish to say that from then I slowly experience my wild card been downgrade from yellow to grey and slowly my ability to get room untill they expelled me when my phone galaxy note 20 was left behind in the casino. Here I'm guys, walking in the streets of Atlantic city without my world my phone that each time I'm calling and begging for it they laughing and hanging the conversation. I'm crying in the streets of Atlantic city something I'm even find myself walking in the streets without roof to my head hangry it's already few weeks that by all description my phone is in their possession, but some how they made my life miserable. I wish to end by telling one more important things I came to be in hard rock casino on November 2020 and also mid of January 2021 coz I had a lot of issues with my own family that made all to make my life hard and by all means not to let me built my life after horrible divorce I have been through follow by hurting with any relationship I have made after divorce she and my youngest cousin had a long years afair in which she help him to steal millions from a very successful business I owned while he was my manager also my second child 17 yo is their fruit ,,, i discover it just recently. and they are the one to send

after me a gangs 24/7 just to drives me crazy. So staying at your facility was a safe heaven for me and that why I also spent so much money I have no regrets for that, it was the list I can do. Now when those gangs managed to influence your team that find a horrible way to kick me out. I came to be in the streets while my family that hunted me for years was in the front stage now playing with my money family that send me my money only if I listen to their demands trying to brain washed me. If I just apposed their rules they immediately was blocked me for one or two days without sending me money (again story without any sense of reasons. Guys I'll end now by saying that this event to kick me out was orccasterated not only by your stuff members insider but by group of gangs from Philadelphia that was paved the way that led to my expel. After all the expel came after my re then a week without room and sleep although I'm making room reservation but each time one of the front desk manager was to give the poison pill if raised the room rate to $70 a night and the deposit $140. I found myself for so many days with the same clothes can't sleep, untill I let myself AT 3:30 am ( not on rash time) to refresh myself at the rephrasing room only shirt out no one was there, i took peper then wet it a little and refreshed my self when this yellow shirt horrible guy that hate his work so much but love the strange assiment to follow my steps untill i enter the toilet and he came right after saw me with wet paper go over my skin that didn't see shower for nearly a week long without any remorse to inhumane he took his phone a shoot few pictures to declare luring and I say is this the way the greatest hardrock that holds glorious past from Woodstock to Wembley hides a Dark shadow that roam the casino floor and monitors as the guest the jackpot and it's a fact that they seek for the same money each and every guest seek money as no defense in the eyes of the insiders it's even easier. for that next time I'll explain the shade inside and hidden?

And much applause

#we want you to lose your money and then gets the F out of here #i thought that was the reason for their secret intention #as i mentioned i quickly learn that the stuff members has seeking for the jackpot not less then us the guest #and if a guest as i stopped loose and even wins twice at the same day. #that is a scandal and we must give him the following #for them its even easier #i was witness then and now to activity that came from the waitresses area #specially one long night in which thay guy was invented over the price itself and was so eagie and every minute another waitress came by #to cheer him #when i approached him to give a tip how to play #all the waitresses jump on me and almost ate me alive #yep that not always works smooth #but just to make the point if you know when machines about to give the jackpot #then you only need to do the everge for at least 4 times and then add the total of that 4 time #and then divide by 4 to find the area in which machine will give #call family members of friends and you have high chance to get it #so lose the money and then get thefuck out is to live this area unknown

[arachine]

something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…

includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe

note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!

link to part two + link to part three

i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.

no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.

no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.

and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.

the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.

things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.

conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…

one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.

when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.

a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.

gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.

"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"

while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"

"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."

he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.

"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"

the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"

"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.

the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.

"miss what, daddy?"

"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."

"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-

"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"

"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

"jeez kid, just answer the question."

she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.

she doesn't budge.

"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."

with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.

"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"

ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.

"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."

she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."

"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."

20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk imagines

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,924 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the prison Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers), really none! it's mostly fluff! Summary: Daryl realizes how touch-starved he's been and exactly who he wants to satisfy that with. Really just sweet, vulnerable Daryl.[he is baby in this fic 100%]

Daryl startled awake, shooting straight up on his bed.

“Wow! Sorry! I was trying to wake you up gently!”

He looked up at her with a steely glare. Then he let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, the frantic alarmed feeling passing quickly as he realized it was just Carol. “The hell ya wakin’ me up for at all? I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was nearly up,” he growled, swinging his legs down over the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He still had his boots on.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry… but I really could use a hand. The water line is clogged up with mud again. The others are going to keep the herd on the fence occupied and thin the numbers down while I try to clear it. I could use you to watch my back.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, alrigh’. Just gimme a few minutes. I’ll meet ya out in the yard.”

“Okay, Pookie” she teased him, smiling. She reached to affectionately smooth a hand over his tousled hair but he deflected it hurriedly and shot her another look that made her laugh. “I’ll see you in a minute,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, go on and get outta here… Pain in my ass,” he grumbled, climbing to his feet.

As Carol’s footsteps retreated outside his cell, he glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror hanging on the cell wall. His hair was a mess and he did what he could to hastily smooth it with his hands before abandoning the effort with a grunt. He hurriedly grabbed his crossbow and fixed his knife in its sheath at his hip. Relacing his boots to make sure they were tight, he called it good and made his way through the prison.

As he stepped outside into the sunlight, he could already see that things were busy despite the early morning hour. Rick and Carl were in the garden plots with Hershel and everyone else seemed to either be chopping and stacking firewood or working down on the fence. It was rare for Daryl not to be the first one awake and it left him feeling off-balance. He hadn’t been sleeping hardly at all and it must have finally added up to pure exhaustion since he’d actually caught a few hours until Carol woke him.

His blue eyes, squinted against the light, searched for you out of subconscious habit. He spotted you alongside Glenn and Maggie on the fence. He felt his heart skipping a beat.

The gravel crunched under his boots as he headed to meet Carol who was waiting at the gate that led to the alleyway between the fences. She greeted him with a tight smile. “Ready?”

“Yep. Good to go,” he replied.

Carol opened the gate and Daryl followed her in. Soon they were passing by you, Glenn, and Maggie putting down walkers through the chainlink.

“Are you alright, Daryl?” Maggie called out, shading her eyes with a gloved hand. “I thought maybe you were sick or somethin’,” she said.

“Yeah, unusual for any of us to be up before you,” Glenn agreed, leaning on the metal rod in his hand.

“Christ, ev’rybody’s got somethin’ to say about it,” Daryl retorted. “Can’t a man get a couple hours of sleep for once?”

You turned after putting down a particularly large and loud walker, gore dripping off the end of the sharpened makeshift spear in your hand and you wiped at the stray strands of your hair that were sticking to your face with your arm. You skin was already glistening with sweat despite it being far from the hottest part of the day. You smiled at Daryl, squinting against the sun. “I didn’t say anything,” you laughed.

“Yeah, well thanks for that,” Daryl said, meeting your eyes. “Yer the only damn one…” He gulped, always a little nervous when your full attention was on him.

“Alright, alright,” Carol said, laughing. “I think we’ve teased poor Daryl enough for actually sleeping. Just keep the herd down this end, away from the water line, okay? We’re heading out to clear it now.”

You all nodded and returned to the task at hand. Daryl couldn’t help glancing back at you over his shoulder a few times, until he slipped out of the hole to the outside behind Carol and closed it back up behind him, lacing the sturdy wire back through the fencing and pulling it tight.

Carol pulled the water line up out of the creek and began twisting apart sections of it to clear out the mud and muck. “Yuck… no wonder we were hardly pulling any water in,” she said, shaking a particularly large chunk of red Georgia clay out of the nozzle.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes scanned the surrounding tall grass and trees for any approaching stray walkers, but he found that they continually seemed to return to you on the fence almost on their own.

“Hey. Hey!” Carol was suddenly laughing. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” Daryl’s eyes snapped back to her. “Sorry.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him and a small, perhaps slightly knowing, smile curved her lips. “Distracted?” she asked.

He shifted. “Are ya done?”

Carol laughed to herself again and dusted off her hands. “Yeah, I think so.” She walked back to the stream with the end of the hose and dropped it back into the creek. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked as the two of them started back up the slope toward the fence.

Daryl shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe work on my bike. Probably due for a tune-up,” he drawled, slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder.

She nodded. “Sorry I woke you up. I was shocked you were still sleeping to be honest. I waited around a bit but—"

“Nah, s’alrigh’. I probably needed to get up anyway,” he replied, glancing ahead toward the fence again. The herd of walkers was dwindling with the efficient work of you and the others but the bodies were piling up on the outside now. Clean-up duty would be needed.

“Well, you should head inside and eat something,” Carol said. “I know you haven’t had anything yet today.”

He ran a hand back through his hair and nodded. “Yeah… maybe in a bit. I think ‘m gonna start pilin’ up those carcasses. We’ll need to burn ‘em later and it ain’t no good havin’ ‘em up against the fence, attractin’ new walkers.”

Carol stopped. “Oh. Yeah, true. I’ll help. Looks like they’re about done anyway,” she said.

He nodded and they strode over, dew down in the longer tufts of grass wetting their boots and hems. There were maybe six walkers left clawing at the fence and they were quickly cut down to three as he and Carol approached on the outside. Daryl pulled his gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on as Carol walked over, watching the last upright body fall onto the pile a moment later.

“How’s the water line?” you asked, gripping the fence, the tips of your fingers poking through.

“Should be all cleared out now,” Carol said. “Nice work,” she said, referring to the pile of bodies at her feet. “Daryl and I will start pulling these away from the fence and piling them to be burned.”

“Alright. I’ll come help,” you said, setting down the metal rod you’d been wielding and briefly wiping at the sweat glistening on your forehead with your forearm again.

“You sure? You’ve done more than your fair share of hard labor today,” Carol said. “Looks like Maggie and Glenn are already heading back up to rest.”

“Yeah, it’s alright. I don’t mind,” you said. “It’ll go faster with three of us.”

“Alright. Come on out! Thanks,” Carol said, giving you a grateful smile.

You nodded and hurried to let yourself out the makeshift opening to the outside. Daryl had already dragged away four bodies in the time it took for you to make your way over. You offered him a wide smile that had his heart jumping and he paused before he grabbed another walker, lacing the fingers of his gloves together in a nervous gesture. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled. “Ya ain’t gotta help with this. Ya did a lot of work on them from the other side,” he said. Your cheeks and chest were flushed red with heat and effort and the cotton of your t-shirt was clinging to your damp skin.

You shrugged. “I’m all good. It’ll get done sooner this way,” you said. He watched your eyes flickering up over his face a couple times and he became suddenly self-conscious.

He cleared his throat. “What?”

You laughed lightly. “Oh—it’s just—you’ve got this one piece of hair sticking up—it’s been defying gravity since you first came out here. I’m just a little surprised it’s still hanging in there,” you joked. You pulled your gloves off and stepped up to him. “It’s just sticking straight up,” you laughed again, attempting to smooth it gently.

An electric shiver ran up Daryl’s back as your fingers combed through his hair. “What’s it matter?” he drawled, attempting to sound gruff and not what he was actually feeling… which was completely jittery. “Ain’t like ‘m tryin’ to win a beauty contest out here.”

“Oh, so you want to be a unicorn? Got it,” you teased him, redoubling your efforts and using both hands and your fingernails to try to combat the stray strand, but it only sprung right back up. You laughed again, your eyes crinkling at the corners. A fluttery feeling burst between Daryl’s lungs. You sighed and shook your head, stepping back and crossing your arms, surveying him. “Nope. Won’t cooperate. I guess you are stuck as a wild unicorn today,” you said. “At least until it comes in contact with a wet comb.”

“Comb? I dunno if I’ve even got one of those,” he joked. “Thanks for tryin’,” Daryl said, half-sarcastically. You only flashed him another grin. You pulled your gloves back on and headed back to the fence to grab a walker. Carol stopped beside Daryl and he grabbed the body she was dragging by the ankles and helped her swing it onto the newly-formed pile. She gave him an appraising look when she stood up, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “What?” he asked.

“No, nothing,” she said, smiling vaguely. But it certainly wasn’t lost on her that when she had attempted to ruffle his hair, her hand had been pushed away brusquely.

Daryl ducked his head and went back to work. You were still at the fence when he walked up beside you. You were attempting to untangle a disgusting mass of limbs to pull a single walker out. Your nose wrinkled and you let out a noise of disgust. “I don’t think I will ever get used to the smell of them,” you mused aloud.

Daryl looked up, about to respond, but suddenly your feet went out from under you and you were landing hard on your back, all the breath pushed out of your body. “Y/N!”

There was a surprisingly strong hand that had emerged from the pile of bodies gripping your ankle and low, muffled growls emanated from a walker beneath the heap that was not quite dead.

Daryl jumped into action immediately, stomping his boot down onto the grasping arm until it released you and then quickly tugging you away by gripping you under the arms. He collapsed down on the ground behind you and you came to rest partially against him, still gasping for air as your lungs had not yet returned to normal, still seized up from the fall. You found yourself completely unaware that you were laying back against his chest as you just focused on trying to breathe. Daryl didn’t dare move.

Carol came running over at full speed. “Oh my God! Are you okay?!”

All you could do was nod urgently, unable to talk still. You pressed a hand to your chest and willed your lungs to start drawing in air again. Your heart was pounding.

“Fucker didn’t scratch ya ,did he? Please, tell me he didn’t…” Daryl gasped. “Carol, check her ankles quick!”

Carol quickly bent over you and looked, sighing with relief. “No, she’s clean.”

It was about that time that your lungs started working again and you realized you were sort of on top of Daryl. “Oh, shit,” you breathed, sitting up and turning. “I’m sorry. I—I’m leaning on you,” you said hurriedly.

Daryl shook his head, his brow still furrowed deeply. “S’alrigh’. Are ya okay? Ya sure?”

You nodded, trying hard to slow your breathing and heart rate. “I’m okay. Just startled me more than anything.”

Daryl climbed to his feet and offered you his hand. He pulled you up. You both watched as Carol kicked a body aside and plunged her knife into the head of the walker that had grabbed you and was still moving. “Got him,” she said, straightening up, her knife dripping blood onto the grass.

It was then that you realized your hand was still in Daryl’s. He hadn’t let go. You could feel the calluses on his palms from digging with the shovels the week before and the calluses on his fingertips from drawing back his crossbow. His thumb was closed gently over the back of your hand. He seemed to have realized then that the moment had passed when he should have relinquished his gentle hold on you and he suddenly drew back, wiping his hand on his pants as if that would rid it of the electric tingle on his palm. “Are ya sure yer okay?” he asked again.

“Fine. I’m fine… just knocked the wind out of me for a minute,” you said.

“How was that one not dead?” he growled, moving to peer down at the body.

“Here,” Carol said, pointing at the neck. “Looks like whoever was trying to put it down just missed the back of head.”

Daryl straightened up, looking worried still. “We’ll have to remind ev’rybody to be more careful on the fence. What if somebody had gotten bit ‘cuz that fucker wasn’t quite dead?”

“It could’ve been my fault,” you said quickly. “I was working the fence too.”

“Well, I doubt ya need the reminder now,” Daryl said seriously, giving you a concerned look. You only nodded. “Look, why dun ya just head back up to the prison for a bit. Get outta the sun and get some water.”

You cocked your head as you looked at him. “What? No,” you laughed. “You think that’s enough to scare me off? Hell no, Dixon,” you said, already smiling at him again. “Let’s get this shit done.”

Carol smiled and shrugged. “You heard her, Dixon,” she teased, leaning down to grab another corpse by the wrists and pull it away.

The pile moved away from the fence and ready to be burned, you and Carol were about to start back to the prison when there was a rustling in the brush nearby. A scraggly looking walker wandered out and started toward the group of you, reaching up with hands that were missing several fingers.

Daryl unsheathed his knife with a well-practiced movement. “I got it,” he said, jogging over to put it down with a skillful stab to the head. He paced back, wiping his knife on his pants. “I’ll ask Rick where he put the gas/oil mixture for burnin’ this later. Ain’t no reason we gotta do it in this sun. Let’s head back up,” he drawled.

You nodded in agreement and pulled your gloves off, glancing at him with a half-smile. “Hey, do you have your bandana on you?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he said pulling it out from his back pocket and offering it to you. “Why?”

You took it, stepped in close to him, and dabbed at a spray of blood on the side of his neck from the walker he’d just put down, wiping it away. “You didn’t feel it?” you laughed. “Apparently it was a juicy one.” You held his bandana out to him again.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling his face flush a little with heat. He noticed Carol watching the interaction with that same vague smile on her face. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Alrigh’. Let’s head back inside them fences… One close call is more than enough for today.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

When Daryl saw you again in a few hours, he could tell you’d cleaned up after your morning shift on the fence. Your hair was down, framing your face and was shining in the sun. There was no more sweat or grime clinging to your skin anymore. You waved as you caught his eyes already on you and he gulped as you made your way over.

Daryl, on the other hand, was still just as filthy as he had been when you all left the pile of walkers outside the fence behind, perhaps moreso. His hands were covered in oil and grime from working on his bike. He felt suddenly self-conscious as you stopped beside him in your fresh clothes.

“I was looking for you,” you said.

“Me?” Daryl straightened up next to his bike.

“Yeah. Carol said you haven’t eaten anything all day,” you said pointedly, your eyebrows lifting.

He shrugged. “Just ain’t gotten around to it yet, I guess,” he drawled, fiddling with the tool in his hands.

“I see. You’re just entirely too busy to take care of yourself?” you retorted. As you talked, you reached out and wiped away a smudge of oil on his forearm casually.

Daryl, however, couldn’t be casual about the spark he’d just felt from that little touch of your fingertip. It jumped up to his arm and seemed to have made its way to his heart, because it was now racing. He gulped.

“Well, what if I fix you a bowl of something and bring it out? You worked hard this morning. You should eat,” you said, cocking your head at him. “We can’t have you suddenly passing out out here and faceplanting onto the cement,” you teased him.

He fixed his blue eyes on you for a long moment. “Ya ain’t gotta do that. ‘M almost done out here. I can come in and—”

You grabbed his arm again and Daryl almost stepped backwards from the way his body seemed to react to your touch again. It was nearly overwhelming. “Daryl, what I asked was if you would eat it if I brought it out. It’s a simple question,” you said, shooting him a playful look. “So?” Your hand was still on his arm. It was light and gentle, but he could feel the softness of your skin. He stared at it for a long second and then managed to clear his throat enough to respond. “Y—yeah, I’d eat it, I guess.”

“Good,” you said, nodding. “I’ll be right back then.” You disappeared back inside.

Rick happened to wander by carrying the gas can for burning the pile of walkers just a minute later. Daryl was bent over his bike, muttering expletives under his breath. “Ho—watch out!” Rick said suddenly, and Daryl shot up as he felt Rick’s hand brush his back.

Daryl jumped, spun around, and shook him off. “What the hell, man?” Daryl growled.

Rick laughed and held his hand up, palm out. “Sorry! You had a huge horsefly on your back! You’re welcome.” He shook his head. “With that reaction next time I might just let you get bit,” Rick joked.

Daryl shook his head. “Sorry. Ya just startled me is all.”

“It’s alright,” Rick replied. “I’ll go take care of those bodies.” He gestured with the gas can.

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh’. Be careful out there. Fire will probably bring more of ‘em in.”

“I’ll take Glenn out with me,” Rick said, and then he was off.

A moment later you were back with a bowl of food for him. It was some kind of noodles with some venison and a few fresh tomatoes from the garden. “Alright. Break time, Daryl,” you demanded. “I need to make sure you actually eat, since apparently you won’t.”

Daryl tugged his bandana from his back pocket and mopped at the oil on his skin the best he could.

You set the bowl in his hands and your fingertips brushed his skin. You didn’t seem to notice. For Daryl it was impossible not to. “Thanks,” he murmured, grabbing a seat on a nearby concrete block.

“No problem.” You came and sat down next to him, sighing good-naturedly and looking out over the green grass of the yard. Rick was just lighting up the pile of walkers outside the fence. A breeze was blowing the tops of the trees around, sending the leaves fluttering and changing their hues. Fluffy clouds drifted by lazily.

Daryl dragged a hand across his mouth. “Mmm. S’good. Thanks,” he murmured, hurriedly taking another bite. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he’d started eating.

You smiled at his voracious eating habits and leaned your chin on your hand, your elbow propped on your knee. You reached over again with your free hand and attempted to smooth that same stubborn strand of his hair that had been sticking up all day. Goosebumps rose up Daryl’s back.

“Thought ya gave that up as a lost cause,” Daryl said through a mouthful, holding absolutely still while your fingers were in his hair.

“I did. Was just… I don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling. “I kind of like it.”

He shot you a look like you were crazy.

“What?” you laughed. “It’s endearing!”

“Yer nuts,” he joked, ducking his head again and turning back to his food. He didn’t see you biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, a fond and soft light in your eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That evening, most of the group was gathered around a bonfire out in the yard. You’d all roasted scraps of venison from a deer Daryl had shot the day before, supplemented with vegetables from the garden and everyone was full and happy. Carol was rocking Judith and cooing over her. Maggie, Glenn, and Beth were playing a rowdy game of cards. Rick and Carl seemed content to watch the people they loved enjoying themselves and you and Hershel were off to one side talking about plans for fall crops when cool season time rolled around again.

Daryl was the only one who had wandered away by himself and seemed to be standing watch on one of the guard platforms. You noticed his broad-shouldered silhouette against the sky and excused yourself.

He turned at the sound of steps on the rattling metal stairs and straightened up when he saw you come around the corner.

You looked up and smiled at him and his heart jumped. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Hey. Everythin’ alrigh’?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. You came to stand beside him at the railing and leaned forward on your forearms. “You okay? Were we all too rowdy down there?” you asked.

“‘M good. Just thought somebody should be on watch, ya know?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nodding.

“It doesn’t always have to be you though,” you said. “You take on a lot. You’re allowed to relax too. Your worth as a person isn’t tied to what you can do for the group.”

He looked at you with a semi-startled expression on his handsome face.

“And I see now that you needed to hear that,” you said your eyebrows lifting. “It’s true.”

You turned and looked back out over the shadows settling into the yard and the warm orange glow illuminating your found family.

Daryl was chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. He lifted a hand to rub at his right shoulder, wincing a little as he rotated it.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nah, s’nothin’. I must’a tweaked it when I was movin’ my bike this afternoon. Tha’s all. S’fine.”

“Hmm. Alright. Turn around,” you said, straightening up.

“What?” Daryl asked, one of his eyebrows quirked up with the question.

“I said turn around,” you said again.

“Why?”

“Just turn around!” you laughed. “What, are you scared of me?”

“Maybe a little,” Daryl replied, a half-smile turning up one corner of your mouth.

Your hands landed on your hips and you cocked your head at him with attitude. He surrendered and turned so his back was to you.

Your hands landed gently on his shoulders and you worked your fingers into his stiff muscles. They seemed to melt beneath your touch. “You are tense,” you said. You moved to massage his sore shoulder and you could feel that one specific spot seemed particularly tight and inflamed. Your touch became gentler and Daryl’s eyes shut. He was almost leaning into the light workings of your hands. “How’s that feel?” you asked him.

All he could get out was a satisfied hum which made you smile.

“You definitely pulled something over here. You’ll have to go easy on it for a bit.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Maybe ya can just keep doin’ that ‘til it’s all better,” he drawled.

You laughed lightly. “I take it this feels okay then,” you said.

“Mhm,” he hummed again.

You smiled to yourself. The man deserved a little TLC. After all, you had scared the shit out of him when that walker grabbed you. You’d never forget the sound of his panicked voice yelling your name.

Just then, there was more clattering on the stairs and your hands left Daryl’s shoulders as you both turned to look. Carol came around the corner and stopped short. “Oh—sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting, um, anything,” she said, smiling.

You felt your cheeks flush and Daryl was feeling the same thing in his chest and face. “No. Not at all,” you said, leaning back against the railing.

“I was just looking for Daryl,” she explained.

“You found him,” you said. “I should head back down and see if Rick needs help getting Judith down for bed anyway.” You glanced back over at Daryl and gave him a small smile. “Night. See you in the morning. Night, Carol.”

Daryl watched you go until you disappeared into the deepening darkness. Then he felt Carol’s eyes on him. He turned at looked at her and her expression and postured, crossed arms and all, could only be described as smug. “What?” he asked, nestling the edge of his thumbnail in between his teeth and biting down.

“I’m really sorry if I did interrupt something,” she said pointedly.

“Interrupt what?” he drawled, a little irritated.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. “Let me just ask you something. How come eight out of ten times if I go to ruffle your hair or wipe a smudge of something gross off you, I get my hand smacked away, but Y/N always seems able to make contact, hmm?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. He simply stared back at her. Internally though, his mind and his heart were working in overdrive.

Carol laughed. “You don’t have to answer. I think we both know why,” she said with a satisfied smile.

Daryl sighed and ruffled a hand back through his wavy hair before resuming his position leaning on the railing next to Carol.

“You do like her though, don’t you?” Carol asked.

Daryl only continued to stare out over the dark yard, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way of his. Carol’s smile widened and she nodded.

“I thought so.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Well, you beat all of us awake again today. I guess everything is back to normal,” Glenn said, kindly reaching out to give Daryl a friendly pat on the shoulder as he passed him. The archer flinched and Glenn gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

“Oh—nah, s’alrigh’,” Daryl drawled. “Just startled me… And yeah. Hope ya slackers had a good snooze. Some of us gotta get shit done around here,” he joked, shouldering his crossbow and heading toward the door to leave.

You happened to be coming back in with Judith in your arms and Daryl nearly ran into you, stopping short to avoid the collision. You laughed and greeted him, one of your hands reflexively landing flush in the center of his chest and staying there until the two of you had side-stepped around each other.

Glenn came to sit beside Maggie again, handing her the cup of tea he’d just gotten for her. “Did you see that? How he flinched?” he asked, a little sadly, his head indicating Daryl before the archer slipped out the door.

“Mhm,” Maggie nodded. “But did ya see that?” she asked, a faint smile tugging on her lips now. She nodded toward you across the room where you were sitting with Judith.

Glenn shook his head. “No. What? I was at the stove.”

Maggie’s smile widened. “Daryl nearly ran into her. She put her hand out and it landed right in the middle of his chest and it stayed there until they made their way around each other. And it almost seemed like Daryl didn’t want to step away from her. He didn’t flinch. He may have even moved in closer. He couldn’t stop lookin’ at her,” Maggie said.

Glenn nodded slowly, his eyebrows lifting as realization dawned on him. “Well, last night… the two of them disappeared from the bonfire... You don’t think—?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie laughed jovially. “But if they aren’t, they should. Daryl needs that. And he’d be good for her too. He’s always been so protective of her and you can just tell there’s somethin’ there.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was late afternoon when you spotted Daryl taking a break out in the yard. He was sitting on the stump used to chop wood, the axe leaning up against the wood pile nearby. Having just finished sorting some of the newly discovered supplies with Carol, you were ready for a break yourself.

“Hey,” you greeted him, tugging another round of wood over next to him.

“Hey,” he returned, watching you take a seat beside him. He found himself wringing his hands a little nervously.

As you settled in next to him, your arm floated behind him for a moment, your palm gently rubbing across his shoulder blades, almost giving his back a gentle scratch, and then tapering off down his spine in an affectionate gesture. Daryl froze, fluttering bursting to life in his chest again. Electric tingles ran up his back. He swallowed hard. “Why d’ya do that?” he asked suddenly.

You turned and gaze him a questioning look, the small smile dying on your lips. “Do what?”

“Ya know, ya rub my back or—or try to smooth down my hair—”

Your eyes went a bit round and then your brow furrowed, casting shadows over the rich color of your irises. “Oh. Does it bother you? I’m—I’m sorry, Daryl. I probably should have asked you if you were okay with me breaking the touch barrier like that with you. I’m really sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I won’t—”

“What? No. No, it doesn’t—I, uhh—I just mean—” Fuck. How could he explain this without having to confess all his deeply held feelings for you on the spot? “It’s—it’s nice… is all,” he finished lamely.

Your expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I just—I ain’t ever really had anybody that—that did that kinda stuff with me, ya know? I mean—” he broke off. He didn’t want to go there. He’d had sex. He wasn’t completely inexperienced, but it had never felt anywhere near as intimate as your fingertips brushing his arm did.

Your lips formed a soft pout and the worry lines in your forehead reappeared. “You mean, touched you… affectionately?”

He nodded a little, keeping his eyes fixed toward the horizon, unable to look at you in that exact moment. “Yeah.”

Your heart ached. You nodded. “I see…” you breathed. You paused thoughtfully for a moment. You thought of all the people in your past who had touched you with love of all kinds—your parents, your best friend, hugs from extended relatives and friends, playfully holding hands as a child, touches with past partners… To think Daryl had never really had any of that broke your heart. You turned toward him and your fingers landed lightly along his jaw, gently turning his face toward you so you could see his bright blue eyes. You clasped his face for a moment and his eyes closed for just a split second. He actually leaned into the touch of your palm and you felt another pang in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, your fingertips trailing off his skin. “You should have had people your whole life touching you with love and friendship and care. And I’m so sorry you didn’t. We all need touch. It’s something fundamental to us as humans.”

You were close together, your knees almost bumping together.

Daryl’s eyes flickered between yours. “Yeah… I dun think I realized that until—pretty recently,” he said. “But ya don’t, uhh—I mean, I’ve noticed ya don’t… do the same thing with ev’rybody. I mean—not—not exactly the same,” he ventured.

“You noticed?” A small smile came back to your face. “No. You’re right. I don’t,” you agreed. You gave him a significant look and his heart began absolutely pounding in his chest, like he was running for his life, hard and fast.

“Oh…” he drawled, his eyes going suddenly unfocused.

“Yeah,” you said with a laugh, your cheeks heating with a blush. “Um, listen—come find me after dinner tonight. I’ve got first watch in the guard tower. Alright?” You stood and Daryl found himself looking up at you, wishing you wouldn’t go.

He could ask you to stay… but he just nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Alright. Tonight.”

“Great,” you said, flashing him a smile that made him glad he was sitting down already. You would have nearly knocked his knees out. How was he going to make it through the rest of the day? The waiting would be excruciating…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl looked up at the guard tower and could see your silhouette out on the platform against the warm splash of color from the setting sun. Inside the tower, a lantern glowed softly, illuminating the windows. He made his way up the winding stairs, trying to swallow his nerves to the best of his ability, but he found it wasn’t much use. He wiped his hands on his pants, suddenly aware that his palms were sweaty.

He pushed into the tower and found the door out onto the platform standing open. You looked over your shoulder at the sound of his boots and smiled at him, before returning to leaning on the railing, staring at the hues of salmon and orange and deep reds blazing across the sky as the sun sunk behind the trees at the horizon.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you asked, meaning the sunset.

Daryl licked his lips nervously, but he was looking at you. “Yeah,” he drawled.

“I like how the sky is never the exact same. No two skies are alike. Something is always different with the colors or the clouds or the particular shade of blue. It makes me feel like even though the world has gone to complete shit… it hasn’t really. You know?”

Daryl leaned onto the railing beside you on his forearms and drank in the scene, humming his agreement. “Mhm.” He nervously shifted. “Um… why’d—why’d ya ask me up here?” He couldn’t stand the strenuous anticipation and wondering any longer.

You turned giving him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. You’ve probably been wondering all day. Well… I was wondering if I could kiss you and this seemed like a nice place to do it—private, nice view, stars will be out soon, unlikely to be interrupted…”

Daryl thought he must have heard you wrong. “Wait—what?”

You smiled at him, your eyes sparking with light. “I’d like to kiss you, if that’s alright?”

He stared at you. “Ya wanna kiss me?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Huh… well—what if I wanna kiss you first?”

You gave him an amused look, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Then, I’d say this works out for both of us?” you laughed.

He ducked his head for a moment. “Cuz I’ve wanted to kiss ya for—for a long time now. Prob’ly longer than you’ve wanted to kiss me,” he admitted. He shot a cautious look at your expression but you still just had that serene smile on your face.

“Daryl—” you said, stepping in toward him and gently taking hold of the front of his vest, “I don’t care who initiates it, but I’d like it to happen n—”

You didn’t get the last word out, because Daryl’s lips landed flush on yours and his hand was tangling into your hair, the other landing lightly on your waist. He seemed a little tense at first, nerves maybe, but quickly you melted into each other, your knees weakening, and he tugged you against him as your arms looped around his neck.

Your hearts were racing in time together and you were both breathless when you broke apart, pulling back only enough to breathe. Daryl’s fingers drummed anxiously on your lower back.

“Was… that alrigh’?” he asked.

“Alright?” you repeated. “It was perfect,” you said.

He looked relieved. “Good. ‘Cuz… it was for me too,” he said softly. “And I’d like to do it again, if tha’s alrigh’?”

You grinned and arched into him, crashing your lips against his. This kiss was fiery and hungry and you didn’t break apart for a long time. Daryl held your body firmly against his and the two of you moved without any clumsiness or reticence, reading each other easily and sinking into it.

The sun was now nearly completely gone and the first stars were appearing in the inky sky. The moon was rising. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at Daryl. “I was hoping you’d stay until my shift is over.”

“Mmm,” Daryl nodded, his hands still on your waist. “Alrigh’. But s’gonna be hard to keep watch with ya distractin’ me.”

“Well, there are two of us… only one of us really needs to be watching at a time,” you joked, laughing lightly. You stroked your fingers through his wavy hair, brushing it away from his face, and his eyes closed at your touch. “I brought a blanket up to sit on. Come on.”

Daryl settled down on it first and then nudged his head in a way as to request that you sink down against him. His arm draped behind you and landed on your hip. His fingers moved a little absently, feeling your softness and angles. “Thanks,” he said suddenly.

“Hmm? For what?” you asked, looking over at him and catching his eyes for a moment before he ducked his head and shrugged.

“For bein’ you and… bein’ the way ya are with me,” he drawled. He didn’t know how to voice that as long as he’d known you, every little touch you gave him, innocent or maybe more, felt like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he found himself craving it, craving you. But he’d never known for sure, beyond the doubt instilled in him, if it was one-sided or not. Now, he knew.

"You don't have to thank me. You deserve to feel wanted, Daryl. You are." You smiled at him and then tucked yourself against him, your head resting under his chin, your hand moving softly on his bare arm, leaving tingles in its wake. The last light of the sun disappeared and was replaced with the cool glow of the moon and endless stars, and the two of you soaked in each other. Daryl seemed more confident as the minutes passed and drank you in, slowly touch-starved no longer and hoping he would never be again.

#daryl fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

[nvuy]

Boothill is a “your pleasure is my pleasure” kind of guy do u agree 🎤

mdni. im snatching the mic. i got carried away ty anon for giving me an excuse to ramble about this loser.

he takes pleasing you very seriously. this is serious business. it’s like his day job.

he’s half-convinced he was given a second life just to cross paths with you, so once he’s got you, he’s not letting you go. not for a while, at least. he’s stuck to your hip like glue. wherever you go, he’s most likely right next to you.

he’s always making sure you’re catered to first.

it’s the same in bed.

he’s extremely touch starved, so while he’s got his hand between your legs, he’s also busied himself nuzzling his cheek to yours to feel you helplessly panting against his skin. or, his ear is resting against your heart. whatever works for him in the moment.

he’s absolutely smitten with how warm you get. he’s always, always, pressing himself against you one way or another. just touch all over his face, please and thank you.

he’s all for kisses too. sometimes, when he’s having a bit too much fun, he’ll get all mushy and gross. not that he already isn’t, but it somehow gets worse.

he’ll bite too. not enough to make you bleed, but enough to leave an angry mark for the next few days.

actually, he just nips you all the time. it’s a weird thing he does. don’t point fingers in his face. he’ll try eating them. he’s very strange in that way. sometimes you can be gesturing at nothing while you talk, and if your fingers get too close to his face, he’s trying to nip at them like a teething puppy. you got used to it.

great tongue too. bonus points because it’s actually real. he works his magic with it, but only after you beg enough. you gotta work to get your hands on the merchandise. his mechanics are expensive, so play nice.

if we’re getting into unserious business, the robocock is great fun. it’s got smooth ridges and it’s cold. probably customisable, too. it’s definitely possible, but whether he’s gonna wander up to some poor mechanic and ask them to add some special features… well.

either way, your pleasure is always his priority. his hobbies consist of biting every single exposed expanse of your skin and exploring new ways to make you squirm.

it’s bad enough you having to deal with this lump of steel and scrap—frankly, he doesn’t even understand what’s so appealing about it—but if you enjoy bouncing on his lap, go ahead. do it all night for all he cares. as long as you have that pretty dizzy smile on your face by the end of it all. it makes him melt into a puddle of liquid metal knowing how good he makes you feel.

he’s also VERY susceptible to puppy eyes. they’re your greatest asset, and his biggest weakness.

you figured that out after you pleaded with him to put on these clothes you bought him (and, yep. these clothes have just as many cut outs as his usual attire). you can also use them if you want to do his hair. please convince him to wear it in a high ponytail more. he has such a nice face, and it also stops his neck from overheating. those poor fans need a vacation.

it takes some convincing, especially when you show him the hair tie is actually a red sparkly ribbon. you’re going to ruin his tough guy persona. but he’ll drop anything for you, so he’ll comply. on the condition that you give him smooches afterwards. it’s also an excuse for him to indulge in how your fingers feel against his scalp.

puppy eyes, crying, begging, whatever, usually get people he’s apprehended nowhere. he doesn’t care for theatrics. not at all. a criminal is a criminal at the end of the day.

but you? aww, how can he say no to your angel eyes? wanna fuck his face? you didn’t even have to ask! just watch the teeth. and feel free to pull his hair. wanna ride him until he short circuits? sure! if you can keep up. he’s all yours.

and when you’re done, his aftercare consists of coddling and pinching your cheeks. he’ll prattle on about nothing. the subject will change to gushing over how pretty you look in his bed, to the weather tomorrow, to how he misses the taste of spaghetti. he’ll even kiss all over the marks he’s left on you. probably kicks his feet too.

he’s still so energetic it’s mind-baffling. he’s so casual about it too, acting as if he didn’t beg for you to cum on his face just ten minutes ago.

but that’s robot stamina for you. or maybe it’s just a boothill thing. who knows?

after a while he’ll calm down. i still haven't decided if he can sleep, but once you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll lay next to you and draw patterns on the nape of your neck with his fingers.

#$. after hours #$. love mail #$. anon #$. mindless prattling #boothill x reader #hsr boothill x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill hsr #hsr x you #boothill

[mochimooon]

DTF Only (Tinder Wh*re) - eren jaeger x reader 18+

pairing: Eren Jaeger x afab! Reader summary: On a six-day Tinder streak, you don't plan to stop for Friday night. Especially when Eren invites you out for a drink. word count: 4500+ notes: Part 7 of DTF Only. Aight, first time writing fanon! Eren. Ya'll know what to expect here. As always indented text refers to reader's messages. warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, oral sex (f! receiving), exhibitionism, semi-public sex, degradation, alcohol consumption, toxic power-play, name-calling, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

Pieck’s message lights up your phone.

Another one??? 

You’ve outdone yourself. Six dates in a row and your streak continues tonight. 

The latest match, Eren invited you for a round of drinks. Simple and low-key. 

As far as appearance goes, you’re mesmerized. His striking features had you scrolling through both his profile and Instagram (included in his bio). Green eyes, tan skin, dark brown hair that fell just shy of his shoulders, styled mostly in a haphazard bun. Not to mention the number of shirtless selfies, it’s obvious: he knows he’s hot.

Arrogance isn’t usually your flavor, but glimpses of a tongue ring challenge you to expand your palate.

He’s such a WHORE!!  You can just tell

Yep. Whore-vibes.  And that tongue ring…😛

lol, freak. I’m so proud of you.  One week and you’re already thinking Colt who?

You laugh at that, albeit it’s a hollow one. A week later and you’re still not sure how to feel, and a part of you is concerned some untapped feelings will catch up to you later. 

Despite the fun you’ve had on these dates, Colt has creeped into your mind a few times, mainly because he’s the last person you were with. However, thoughts of him don’t linger long enough by the time you’re getting busy with your Tinder matches. 

Still, you do wonder what he’s up to. 

Is he on Tinder too in his city? If so, you don’t feel anything strongly about that. 

Just then, you get a new text message. 

Heading out now See you there ;)

Much like the other guys, you and Eren had exchanged personal numbers. You had no problem with it, preferring it that way you could call them if you had to, and vice versa. 

Almost ready 😊 Be there soon

…

It’s easy to find Eren at the bar. You might be pushing your luck, but you’re grateful that every guy you’ve matched with looks like their pictures (and even better in person). 

He’s snagged a table near the bar, a negroni, barely touched, indicating that he hasn’t been waiting long. As you approach, you take this opportunity to assess him, and your face warms the closer you get to the table. 

He’s…attractive, almost painfully so. An effortless kind of swagger in the way he sits on the chair, elbow bent over the edge, a hand stretched out on the table, tapping his fingers. You’re surprised that he’s not mobbed by a flood of men and women right now. 

Walking past the bouncer, green eyes zero in on you, lighting up like a radar. 

Eren gets to his feet, gliding forth to say your name in a smooth low tone. “Hey there, pretty girl.”

You shiver from the toned muscle you’re pressed against. “Hi, Eren, nice to meet you.”

“I opened up a tab,” he says as he returns to his seat. “Someone will come over and you can place an order.” As he speaks, you’re given the first glimpse of that tongue ring. 

You force yourself to look away to keep from drooling over it. “Cool, thank you. I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?”

“Nah. Barely placed this order.” He points to the negroni. “You’re good.”

A waitress comes by in a second to take your drink order. 

“A tab’s open already,” Eren tells her. “Under Jaeger.”

You pause, mind reeling from the name. You wave it off. “Is this your go-to spot?"

Eren finishes a sip, nodding. “Yeah, my friend used to bartend here after college, and he always had the hook-ups. He doesn’t work here anymore, so the perks are gone, but it’s still a nice place to grab drinks.”

Your drink arrives a few minutes later, as you tell Eren about your week, omitting your previous Tinder escapades. He nods and hums to acknowledge that he’s listening, but his eyes are in deep thought, wandering from your face to your lips, down your neck with an indifferent expression. 

When you pause to have more of your cocktail, a smirk ghosts Eren’s lips. 

“So...let’s hear about this ex-boyfriend.” 

You raise a brow, taken aback. Not once did you mention Colt, so you’re at a loss as to why Eren would dig for that sort of detail.

Confused and a little peeved, you say, “That’s an awkward thing to ask about on a first date.” 

“I have a sixth sense.” Eren doesn’t parse his words. “Most women on Tinder are fresh out of a breakup and want to get under someone to forget them.” He shrugs. “Not judging at all. I’m more than happy to offer my service.”

Your brows knit together, unsure of what to do think of that. “Sounds like a hot take. I’m not going to talk about past relationships. It’s boring.”

This yields the opposite reaction you wanted from Eren. Because instead of dropping it, he leans closer, brow arched, ears peeled ready for gossip. “He was boring? How so?”

You purse your lips, averting his question. “What about you? On Tinder for a rebound hook up?”

The whore laughs, hearty and patronizing. “I’m not on the rebound.” 

“So, you’re telling me every date you’ve gone on so far was to serve as someone’s rebound?”

He shrugs again, unfazed. “Maybe not every date, but most. Again, no shade, just curious to know. I feel like I’m right though.”

Is that what you’re doing? Rebound fucks? You don’t see it that way. 

Sounds like he's just nosy. What he plans to do with any information you share about Colt, you’re not sure. But then Ymir’s voice rattles in your head from a phone conversation you had with her earlier that day.

You had just sent her screenshots of Eren’s profile.  

“Hoodrat for sure. I’d be careful, though.”

“Why? If all he wants is sex, who cares?” you had said. 

“I know you’re not interested in him like that,” Ymir continued. “What I mean is that a guy like Eren has a big ego. Game-playing, all that. Knowing you, that might get on your nerves before you get a chance to get naked with him.”

“Meaning?”

Ymir chuckled. “Meaning you’ve got an ego too.”

You wonder then if that’s why Eren’s so interested in knowing about your past relationship. Perhaps, it is a show of ego, a way for him to measure up or out-measure someone you’ve already been with. 

You busy yourself with your cocktail as Eren takes a long gulp of his negroni, green eyes flitting back to the bar. While you try to get to a better read on him, you’re unable to concentrate.

Your mind spins in circles, moving and bobbing like his Adam’s apple. He’s leaning against the barstool, in the same careless swagger. Ego or not, you hate to admit that he has every right to be full of himself.

Setting the glass down, Eren’s tongue falls out in a satiated sigh. You’re not discreet and Eren catches that. He grins, tongue swiping along his bottom lip. The metal stud sways like a pendulum. 

Your jaw slowly loosens, hooded eyes zeroed in on the piercing. 

“You like that?” Eren moves his tongue in a way that prods the stud out further. 

Oh, you like it a lot. Eren hadn’t displayed it fully on his profile, but a few pics of him laughing, you swear you caught the shine of metal in his mouth.

Recollecting your wits, you say, “Tell me about that piercing. Does it hurt?”

Eren shrugs, tapping a few fingers along the table. “Never had any complaints.”

A rush of heat soaks through your skin. You swallow, like a cat fixated on a shiny object. “I meant getting it pierced.”

He shakes his head, grin widening. “Just a little pressure when they stick it in.” This man is so shameless… “Pain is an afterthought.”

You can’t help it, your mind falls back into the gutter, deep into a rabbit hole, curious to know what a tongue like that could do between your legs. 

“I’m guessing your ex-boyfriend didn’t have a tongue piercing either?”

You deflate, irritation pricking the fantasy. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Still hurting from it?” Upon first impression, you didn’t expect Eren to channel anything other than arrogance. His softer tone is a sudden switch that you don’t realize has chipped away at your resilience to veer away from the topic. 

“Never really hurt from it,” you say, indifferent, hoping to put an end to the subject afterwards. “My routine’s changed, so that sort of sucks. I got really comfortable.”

Eren hums. “That’s dangerous. Complacency. I’m going to assume he was very vanilla too?”

You roll your eyes.  

Eren feigns innocence. “What?”  

“I don’t want to talk about breakups, past relationships, none of that…”

“Fine, what about your body count?” He snorts, again, feigning innocence when you don’t answer. “He wasn’t your only one, was he?”

You roll your eyes. Like after, there were also men before Colt. Though they didn’t compare to the roster you’ve had this week. Maybe it comes with age, but your sex life had never been better. “I’m on Tinder, what’d you think?”

This seems to shift Eren’s mood. The snark stutters across his features into a scowl. “Oh…so you’re on Tinder to hook up only?”

“Didn’t say that.”

“You’re not looking for a relationship though.” He leans back, looking scorned. “Body counts going up then.”

What’s his problem? He’s the walking incarnate of a fuckboy, but the idea of you laying up with other guys he doesn’t even know spurs this sudden attitude. You’re strangers, both single, full stop. 

He pushes his tongue against his cheek. “Is there any guy on Tinder you haven’t slept with?”

You balk, brows rising. However, the corner of your lips curl, less angry and more amused. Someone's competitive... “Are you upset that you’re not one of them?”

You expect another taste of his attitude, for his frown to deepen. You do not expect his eyes to light up, like a dare igniting. 

“Oh, you’re a brat.” He tops his drink with a grin. “That’s in my pay grade.”

You shouldn’t entertain this, you already know. You’re both far too old to be playing games for strangers that only met to inevitably hook-up. You also know you shouldn’t be turned on by this challenge across the table, green eyes and tongue-pierced. Heat gathers at the center of your thighs anyway.

“I don’t mind taming a brat,” Eren continues. 

“You’re an expert?” you challenge. “Because I don’t know what brat you’re talking about—"

His laughter cuts you short. “Oh no, you’re a brat alright. Tell me more about those Tinder hook-ups. Any of them better than that boyfriend of yours?”

At his condescending tone, your brow twitches. At the dark lust in his eyes, your thigh twitches.

“You seem really obsessed with knowing about my ex,” you say. “Are you trying to compensate for something?”

Eren tilts his head, smirk stiffening, a crack in his arrogant resolve. “Trust me,” he recovers. “I don’t need to compensate for anything.”

It’s like a bait you can’t resist, wanting to see to that promise. But you restrain yourself. Regardless of your intentions for being there, you can’t feed into ego, his or yours. However, Eren does make it difficult the more he pricks and needles. 

Eren takes your silence as an invitation to barb you more. “If I were to guess, he sucked at getting you off. That’s a shame, you’re too pretty to deal with someone like that.”

You can’t explain it, but you find yourself taking Eren’s bait, defending Colt. “He knew how to love.”

“But he didn’t know how to fuck.” He folds his arms. “You do. That’s why you’re on Tinder.”

Your blood is flushed with heat and agitation. What’s worse it that you don’t mind it, but your ego refuses to let you give him that satisfaction. As much as you would like to hook-up with Eren, you might have to cut your loss instead. 

Finishing your drink, you pucker your lips, tingling with the burn of alcohol. Eren frowns as you rise to your feet. 

“Thanks for the drink. Have a nice night.” 

Spinning a heel, you hear Eren scoff, beckoning you to come back and when you don’t, he clicks his tongue. But you don’t turn back, nor do you flinch when you hear the scrape of a barstool around the call of your name. 

“Shit—I need to close my tab—”

You’re outside, crossing the back lot when footsteps haunt your own, rushing to catch up. “Wait!” Your name spills out of Eren’s mouth. “Wait! Just—wait!”

You peer over your shoulder with surprising level-headedness, but the pulse of your wrist skips, caught in Eren’s grasp. 

Silence ensues as Eren catches his breath, fingers wrapped along your wrist to keep you from escaping. A few rogue strands have come loose along his hairline and his previous scowl inside the bar remains intact, though it has smoothed out since finding you. 

“Yeah?” You level him with the same sharp glare earlier, patience thinning and heart pounding, charged with the adrenaline. “What is it, Eren?”

He leads you a few paces towards a parked black car that you assume is his. 

“You know, you’re keeping me right now,” you say. 

Eren’s eyes snap up. “Whoever they are, they can wait.”

You scoff. “Right, because I was about to run off to my ex-boyfriend, that’s who you think is waiting for me, hm?”

At the mention of Colt, the humor resurfaces in Eren’s face, though it’s pinched with slight irritation. 

Fueled by the tension, you egg Eren on, delighting in the way his hand tightens around your wrist. 

“Like I said, he knows how to love.”

Eren snorts. “Right, right, you mean he bored you.”

“That’s what you say."

“That’s what I know.” Eren’s eyes darken, dropping your wrist to run his fingers along the side of your stomach. “He was gentle, wasn’t he? Because that’s how you like them.”

You narrow your eyes, warmth flooding your neck and gathering between your legs. “You don’t know how I like them.”

Whether it’s the heat of the moment or ego, you refuse to tell Eren that he’s right. Despite how healthy of a relationship, you and Colt had, overall, he didn’t satisfy your sexual needs. Sure, you always knew that, as did your friends. But that doesn’t mean Eren needs to hear it too. With nothing else to say, you fall silent, bristling from Eren’s touch.  

“So, I’m right,” Eren breathes as he leans closer, hands trailing south, beneath your skirt. He flicks his gaze up, and you acquiesce by not pushing him away.  

He finds the gusset of your bodysuit and raises a brow. His surprise fades away in seconds. The crotch of your bodysuit is snapped aside, and you wince. 

Fingers glide along the slit of your pussy that you fight to stand. Eren hisses a laugh, pleased to find you soaked. “Did your boyfriend make you this wet?” A knuckle presses against your center, and you release a shaky breath. “Did he?”

You mewl, shaking your head. 

“Didn’t think he did,” Eren whispers, arrogance distinct. He replaces his knuckle with his thumb as two fingers rub your folds and a third prods your entrance. 

Words evade you, dying on your tongue and you can only manage a gasp when his thumb quickens its pace. 

“Who’s making you wet then?”

The added pressure on your clit makes you gush, and the victory in Eren’s smirk makes it harder to resist his allure. 

You sputter, “Y—you.”

“Hm?” Eren’s third finger inches inside of you like a phantom touch, close but not enough to push past your walls. “Who?”

“You…Eren.” You’re so starved for more stimulation, you don’t care about your ego anymore, gladly tossing it away in exchange for relief.  

A finger slides into your pussy. You moan, tilting your hips. 

Eren breathes a laugh, tongue swiping his lip. “That’s a good little pussy.” He rewards you with another finger, pumping with enough vigor that promises to unravel you within seconds. 

Your back flattens against the side of Eren’s car, chest rising with sharp gasps. Your hooded gaze fixates on Eren’s unshaken stare. His equilibrium combined with deft fingers bring you to the edge, your pleasure almost crests. 

The pace dials down significantly, and you’re rolling back down the hill of a stable mind. Eren’s fingers continue to pump inside of you at a much slower rhythm, the pressure on your clit has reduced to featherlight.

You blink up at him, bucking your hips to reignite the dying embers in your lower belly. 

Eren’s keen on taunting you, pressing onto your clit again with renewed pressure.

Breathless, you say, “Eren, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t listen, wearing a mask of mock confusion. “Oh. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need.” His fingers pull away. 

You snatch up his wrist, a desperate plea in your grip, leveling him with a yearning gaze. “Eren, I want you to fuck me.”

Victory pulls at the corner of Eren’s lips, his hand stroking your face in a delicate manner. “You want to get out of here?”

You rise on your tiptoes, giving him a heavy nod, hypnotized by the tension crackling from your bodies.

“I can take you back to my place. Give you the best rebound fuck of your life.”

You nod again, hasty and urgent, voice lost in the rising tide of desire. 

“You want that?” Eren husks.

You swallow. “Mhm.”

Eren erases the miniscule gap with a press of his forehead against yours, a taunting glimmer in his eyes. “Too bad.”

The car door flies open, and you’re tossed inside, hitting the leather of the backseat. There’s little time to process anything, and no time to adjust your skirt that’s rolled up your thighs. Eren climbs in, pushing the fabric up. 

His mouth is on yours, sucking the air from your lungs. When he pulls back, your head spins. 

“Tinder whores don’t get fucked in private.” Sliding down, your thighs are hitched over his shoulders. “They get fucked in a parking lot.” He flashes the stud on his tongue, moving his mouth to push it out.  

Your thighs quiver, hand digging into the leather seat.

Eren’s gaze falls to your pussy, ego resting on the edge of his smile. “Shit, you should see yourself right now. You’re dripping. You want to me to treat you like a whore. You need me to have a taste, huh?”

You would like to clapback, wishing for something snippy to spill out. But it would betray the anticipation flowing through your body. Whether Eren means it or not, you enjoy his overconfidence, aching at the degradation, growing wetter from it. Colt would never entertain such a concept. 

Pride nowhere to be seen, you nod, biting your lip; pleased and pliant to be the whore he makes you out to be. 

Eren’s brows rise, grinning, nonetheless. He yanks you closer by the hips, and for a moment you’re aware of the open car door. Although the lot is empty, anyone can walk by, sneak a peek over to witness what Eren’s preparing to do to you. And you moan despite all that. 

“Time to chase that drink down.” There’s a strain to Eren’s words like he’s in need to gulp down his drool. He doesn’t, letting his tongue hang and a dribble of saliva meets the slick of your pussy. 

“Oh—oh!” You lift your head, eager to get a visual of what you’re feeling. Eren’s piercing juts out, extending that the hard metal presses onto your clit. Your hips buck up to meet the stud again. 

Eren’s mouth slots over your pussy, dragging his tongue along the slit, tongue ring grazing between your folds. It’s a foreign sensation, sparking more pleasure when it meets your clit again with a flick of his tongue.

Eren comes up, eyes deeper, richer, and lecherous. His sharp inhale sounds more like a slurp. “Fuck…you taste perfect to me.” You whine as his tongue meets your folds again, tongue ring nudging your pussy lips. “Cum on my tongue, yeah?” It falls out like a desperate demand.

“Yeah…ah!”

Eren’s tongue slides into your entrance, pushing past the flesh. You can feel the tongue ring exploring your walls, not as distinct as you expected it to be. However, it’s Eren’s technique that has you staggering close to release. 

He’s ruthless, eating you out with an insatiable appetite. Two fingers press onto your clit, swiping in a stride that sparks your pulse. 

“Ah—Eren—” You grind against his hold, climbing that peak of ecstasy. You grab hold of Eren’s hair by the bun to keep yourself steady.

Eren swaps techniques, fingers replacing his tongue to massage the spongy spot inside of you while the tip of his tongue laps at your clit. The pressure from the stud and the curling of his fingers, set you free, the world unraveling in the backseat of his car as you cry out your release.

Eren’s fingers pull away, he slurps you up as your body twitches around him, recovering from the rush of pleasure.

Your mindless as he cleans you up, hand carding into his hair lazily. 

It’s like time’s been pulled from beneath you when he resurfaces, crawling over.

Tilting his head, he smirks. “Are you still there?”

You nod slowly, head floating. Words are robbed with Eren’s mouth on yours. His tongue slides along yours, stroking you with his stud. 

Breaking apart, you and Eren catch your breaths. 

At the sight of Eren’s dark gaze, your mind returns to you, punctuated with a telltale bulge pressed against your pussy.

Pleasure renews and you shudder.

“We’re not finished yet,” Eren says.

You lick your lips, brows furrowing together to fill the blanks you’re unable to verbalize. 

Eren’s amused by your silence. “Nothing to say to me? Does my little whore need a break?”

You bite your lip again, needing more friction between your legs. Trembling thighs wrap around him.

Eren takes your chin, leveling you with a look, overflowing with confidence. “Use your words…I haven’t fucked you dumb yet.”

You shake your head, watching a flame flicker behind Eren’s eyes, a challenge sparking there. “No, now, c’mon, just fuck me already before I change my mind.”

You both know you don’t mean it, but it doesn’t stop Eren from teasing you.

His arms cage you on either side of your head, voice dripping with arrogance. “I think I’ve done my part convincing you, angel.” 

Your pussy weeps at the pet name. 

In a flash, Eren pushes away, hunched over to reach in the center console. His teeth rip into the condom’s wrapper, watching you with hunger. He undoes his belt, shoving down his boxers in haste.

His cock springs free, pearly with precum. You want to get a glimpse of his manhood, but you’re pinned to the leather. He moves so quickly, doesn’t bother to stroke himself, already rock hard and ready to burst. The condom slips on, and he draws closer, yanking your thighs in. 

The tip of his dick kisses your entrance. The pressure alone is enough warning of his size. You meet his eyes and spread your thighs as far as they can go in the tight space. 

He falls forward again, elbows bent on the seat your head lays upon, green eyes fixed on your face. He pushes into you. “Gonna mold this slutty pussy to take me.” 

The stretch pushes air from your chest in a pleased moan, and he slides in until he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

He gives you no time to adjust, doesn’t waste any to flex his ego anymore. He fucks into you hard and erratic, hovering so close to your face.

It’s an oddly intimate view, you forget that you’re being fucked in the backseat of his car in a parking lot. However, you’re a sucker for eye contact and relish his hooded gaze, bewitched by the feel of you clenching around him. 

Labored breaths fill the backseat, steaming up the windows from the passion between your bodies. 

Eren grunts out your name. “Fuck! This pussy is still so tight—”

On cue, your walls clamp down on his girth, an animalistic sound rumbles in his Eren’s throat. 

“Fuck—fuck—” Eren’s tongue pushes past your lips. He pulls away with a smile, a surprising tenderness in his eyes, contrasting his rough nature.

Eren’s hand plants itself against the fogged window, and the other travels south, rubbing your clit in a hurry. “Want you to gush over my cock.”

You writhe like a spirit reawakened, clawing at the leather interior again, and that’s when you feel it—arching your back as you cum for the second time. 

Eren’s hips slam into yours, hot pursuit of his own release that tears through him a moment later, in a long-satiated groan. 

You watch him fall apart, eyes shut, brows pinched. His jaw hangs open, giving you another peek of the tongue ring.  

A moment passes. Eren’s fingers slip from the window, arm shaking from the impact of his climax, his body sinks. 

You press your hands against his chest to keep him from crushing you. 

Eren catches himself, hovering over you. “Thanks.” He blinks at the window with a grin. “Look at that. We fogged up the place.”

Your head tilts. Fingerprints streaked along the glass, clashing with the sudden chill that enters the backseat. 

You scoff lightheartedly, reeling from the throws of passion and the excitement of having tried something daring, something you’ve always fantasized. A carnal itch has been scratched. 

Car sex. You’re a new fan.

…

Eren gives you a lift home. 

You point out your complex. “That building just before the stop sign.” 

The car rolls to a stop at the front, the engine shutting off. 

Unbuckling your belt, you pull out your keys, hand on the door.

Eren takes your other hand, reeling your attention back as you turn to him. 

He’s smug, and you can’t deny that you feel the same way. Though what he says takes you aback. 

“Um…I didn’t mean any of that by the way. You’re not a whore.”

Your shoulders slacken with the release of a faint laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t take you seriously. I didn’t mind being called one.” You bat your eyes. “Or…fucked like one.”

The corner of Eren’s lip curled, widening with pride. “I’m up for another round, any time.” He kisses your knuckles. “I’ll text you.”

Like the other guys, Eren was not a bad lay. But with him, you don’t put stock into anything he says. You’re not naïve, too mature to act like a school-girl to his charms. He’s a womanizer at heart. 

A new notch on your belt is all. 

You open the door. “Sure, have a good night.”

☻ masterpost☻ taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel @shepnicolo @porples-blog @jeanboyjean @fictional-d-supremacy

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #attack on titan #eren x reader #eren x you #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #eren aot #eren smut #aot smut #eren jaeger smut #dtf only series #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x you #snk #aot #snk smut #mochi-writings

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s)

Part 1/? Read on AO3

Omegaverse modern au where steddie are both teachers. Eddie is teaching single omega Steve's son.

Eddie let out a satisfied sigh as the latest parent left his classroom. Parent/teacher conferences were always a tad stressful, even if there was no tangible reason to be. Most of his kids were doing well in all their subjects. There were only a couple behavioral outliers but Eddie knew that those parents rarely showed up but from professional and personal experience.

The main reason he didn't look forward to these was how selective kids could be with the information they shared. More than once in his years, a parent would arrive with a bone to pick about a problem that was apparently happening in the classroom that Eddie had no idea was occurring. These kids came up to him ten times a day to tell him what their little sister had for lunch two days ago but god forbid they admit when they have a problem with another student.

Today's appointments had mostly been smooth, though. It typically wasn't the quote unquote problem children whose parents showed up anyway. He just had one more person to go and then he could run out the clock fixing up his room until he was allowed to go.

He double checked the name. Shawn Harrington. Good kid. Bright, active, and it sounded like their parent had arrived.

"Mr. Munson? Hi, I'm Shawn's dad."

Eddie looked up to see a total smoke show.

"Hi", he cleared his throat when it squeaked out. "Nice to meet you, come in, have a seat." Eddie had Shawn's folder ready, like the other kids to show any work that should be highlighted, as well as his grades up on his laptop. "So did you have any concerns or worries about Shawn?"

Eddie quickly went in autopilot. It was the only way he was going to get through this. He was going to keep his eyes from drifting to that smooth sweep of this man's hair. He wasn't going to hyperfocus on his pretty lips. He wasn't going to gaze deeply into those chocolate brown eyes. He wasn't going to flare his nostrils to take in more of his scent. And he definitely wasn't going to check his fingers for any rings.

Bare hands.

Very nice hands.

They had a nice, brief conversation about the student's progress, and Eddie couldn't help but give him a glowing review. Even if Mr. Harrington wasn't totally hot, his kid was a wonder at times.

"He listens and pays attention well, always raising his hand to answer questions. If you don't mind me saying so, he just seems really prepared for school."

Which was saying something when many of the other first graders were still asking things like 'do we have to do math?' or 'are we going home today?' Eddie remembered being little and having pretty much no control over his life, so he could relate to the tiny ones still getting the hang of school. But kids like Shawn were a breath of fresh air.

"He did pretty well in kindergarten and I put him in daycare pretty early", Mr. Harrington said. "He gets really excited for school and I can tell he really likes you so far."

His smile could have blinded Eddie. He wanted to gush on just to keep seeing that smile.

"That means a lot, thank you." It wasn't a strong stigma but sometimes people got iffy over an alpha teaching children so young. It was thought they needed the 'gentler' hand of an omega. His eyes drifted back down to Mr. Harrington's hands. Yep, there was no ring there.

Now Eddie would never ask out or even flirt with a parent. That was off limits. But you know, if he got a little creative with his fantasies... well, you can't go to jail for thought crimes.

They said their parting words and Eddie was definitely not watching that ass in those khaki slacks. God, was there anything more cliche than him being a teacher and having the hots for a parent? He tried to keep his mind off it as he fixed up his classroom. He wouldn't even be seeing the guy that much. Not unless something came up with Shawn. And that kid was kind of an angel.

It was Friday, so once he was done, he went home to enjoy his weekend. Come Monday, there was a cacophony of voices. Half talking to each other and the other half trying to both greet him good morning and get right into another conversation. Eddie took it all with a smile.

"Mr. Munson, did you tell my mom about my butterfly!?", Theresa exclaimed, pointing to their bulletin board where their work hung.

"Mr. Munson, I got cheez-its in my lunch today", Victoria said, opening up said lunch box.

"Did you really talk to our parents?", Walker asked, arms crossed.

"Most of them", Eddie answered once they gave him a breath to speak.

"He talked to my dad", Shawn said. "And he said you said I was good."

"That I did", Eddie nodded, watching them as they put their coats and bookbags away. Theresa and Walker were known to fight over hooks.

"Mr. Munson, did you know my dad is a teacher too?", Shawn asked.

"I did not know that. Explains why you're so ready for school."

"Yeah, we practiced", Shawn said as he sat down to get started on the warm up.

Eddie raised a brow, wanting to ask what he meant by that, but his attention was grabbed when there was a shriek and a cry from Yasmin. He steeled his nerves for the day. He would need the fortitude.

-------------------------

When Steve walked into the classroom to meet Mr. Munson, he didn't know what to expect. He regretted missing Back to School Night, but his had been on the same evening and as a teacher, he couldn't miss it. But Shawn had nothing but good things. So he went in with optimism.

And was met with a gorgeous, gorgeous man sitting at the teacher's desk. For a second, Steve was sure he had the wrong room.

"Mr. Munson? Hi, I'm Shawn's dad."

His hair was pulled back in a bun and Steve's first thought was how it must look when it was down. Honestly, Steve couldn't tell you exactly what he had said. His tongue felt twisted the whole time as did his stomach. But Mr. Munson was smiling through it all and hadn't brought up anything bad about Shawn, so Steve must really be selling it.

He wanted to say that Mr. Munson's praise meant the world to him. That it wasn't always easy to bring up a kid as a single omega parent. But that felt too personal for a first meeting. And mentioning he was single would probably be too forward. When it ended, they shook hands, allowing Steve to get just a little close. He caught a whiff of his scent and instantly wanted more. At least enough to pinpoint what it reminded him off.

But he had to let go just as quickly and then leave without lingering. He was NOT going to be the type of parent that made goo-goo eyes at his child's teacher. It wasn't like Shawn needed the leg up and Steve was done with his slut era. So even thought Mr. Munson could definitely get it, he was absolutely off limits.

And if Steve went home and immediately put the rest of the school year's events in his own calendar, that was simply because he was an amazing dad and for no other reason.

Part 2

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #nothin like the smell of fresh new fic #and with this one i get to vent about my job #hoorah #this is mostly fluff w/some dramaaaa

[gimmeurtmi]

private gym perks — changbin

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, ig counts as bondage, working out, oral (f receiving), cocky!bin (he’s a leo yk), praising,

inspo: this request that blew my brain: you're working out with changbin and he eats you out on the hip abductor machine so you can't close ur legs

notes: i’m not well. hip abductors are my favourite thing and they just got better.

{ wc: 2253 }

You couldn’t class yourself as a gym rat by any strandards, let alone when you worked out with someone like him. His workouts were twice as long as yours and twice as hard. So you never tried to match him when you worked out together—but it was still fun working out with him.

After a few months together, and hearing you complain about the atmosphere in your local gym, Changbin finally said something.

“You know there’s a perfectly good gym in my house, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s yours. Plus, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

All you got in response was an eyeroll, and Changbin’s stubbornness, until eventually you caved and started working out in the gym room he set up in his house.

It had everything you needed, everything anyone would need, so it was perfect. Best of all, it had Changbin hyping you up and challenging you and motivating you to work harder.

So today, like most times, you were working on your cardio as Changbin worked weights.

He was in a mood today, that was evident when he looked at you out of nowhere and asked, “remind me how much you weigh?”

“Bin, you should never ask a lady that question,” you teased.

“Just,” he sighed, “is this right?”

You walked over to the weights and checked the discs he added onto the bar. With some quick math, you assured him it was indeed your total body weight.

He smirked at you before placing himself underneath the bar, pushing it up by his hips.

You had to swallow, realising you were practically salivating.

“Can I help you?” He asked as he finished his set—and that’s when you realised you were still glued to your spot, fully staring at him as he moved.

“Uh, um, just not sure what I should focus on next, coach.”

He laughed at you. You probably weren’t hiding your interest as well as you thought you were.

“Done your cardio?” You nodded. “Thirty minutes?”

“Yep,” you said, smoothing your hands over your gym shorts. “Maybe some leg presses?”

“Yeah,” he smiled at you, almost proudly. He didn’t move his eyes away from yours as he pushed his hips up again to start his second set.

You moved over to the machine, focusing on your breathing and your form just like he taught you.

When you finished your first set Changbin appeared behind you.

“That looks too easy, come on,” he urged, moving the weight pin down one level. “Try it now.”

You pushed against the platform, getting used to the new weight on your thighs. It wasn’t too difficult.

“I can do that,” you nodded.

“Still easy?”

You hummed, giving it another try before affirming his question.

He moved the pin down one more slot before he left you to your sets and got back to his own workout.

You moved on to the next machine, Changbin making sure to move the pin down from where you originally placed it again.

“Why?” You groaned, already feeling the strain in your muscles.

“Come on, you can’t call me coach for me to just let you get away with rookie level weights.”

You rolled your eyes at his determination, but it covered you in warmth nonetheless.

He always tried to help you get better, and maybe that was part of the reason you liked working out with him—as opposed to some of the other boys you knew.

From your spot on this particular machine you could clearly see his back as he pulled down the bar again and again and again. After every ten pulls he added more weight, and you thanked whatever god you needed to that he decided to wear a tank top on this particular day.

You rarely saw him in revealing clothes when he was working out with other people, but the privacy of his own gym let him feel more comfortable. And perhaps that’s also why you decided to wear shorts to work out today as well.

You lost count of your reps.

You even stopped moving your legs entirely, too focused on the way his muscles strained and contracted in front of your eyes.

“Yah!” He yelled as he finished his last set. “Is it just me or did you stop moving?”

He looked at you accusingly, but that cocky glint in his eyes let you know you weren’t in too much trouble. Still, you smiled sheepishly as you nodded.

“Lost focus, coach,” you admitted slowly.

“So now I need to make sure you’re doing your sets?”

You nodded, far too eager. The best part of working out with Changbin was when he helped you through your reps. The way his eyes followed every movement of your body, the way he sent praise after praise your way.

So you didn’t even try to hide how much you enjoyed it and how much you wanted him to always have all his attention on you when you were in his private gym.

“Right then,” he crouched beside you, “fifteen reps.”

He counted you down, insisting you complete the full movement each time, and when you were done he made sure to tell you, “you did such a good job! Again.”

This went on for three more sets (one more than you’d decide to do, but Changbin insisted) before he gave you your bottle and instructed you to breathe in deeply.

“Binnie, I’m tired,” you complained, attempting your biggest puppy eyes at him. They almost worked, you could tell by the way he cocked his head to the side before looking away from you with a massive smile on his face.

“Don’t try that on me!” He yelled.

It wasn’t unusual for Changbin to raise his voice for no reason at all, so you didn’t even flinch at the volume or the way his voice echoed off the walls—given the strong acoustics in the room.

Changbin’s favourite rap playlist was playing in the background, lowly, but his voice was always so much louder than that.

“One more machine,” he said finally, “your pick.”

You groaned but let your eyes scan all the different choices—until you set your heart on the hip abductor. It wasn’t too much of a struggle and it allegedly helped tone your butt and thighs. So it was a win win.

You jumped off the glute machine and skipped your way over to the hip abductor.

“This one!” You said happily, before moving the pedals around to your thighs and positioning yourself comfortably.

“Okay,” he smiled back. You found the right weight for you, placing the pin where you could find resistance but not too much.

Changbin crouched next to you again, looking at your form and correcting it when needed. He counted your reps like he did before—but you couldn’t help but notice his voice was quieter, lower than normal. Deep.

His eyes moved from your thighs to settle right between your legs, soft sighs leaving him every time you forced the machine open.

“Good,” he sighed out, “good job.”

“Another set?” You asked, slowly, aware of the heat rushing up and down your body and settling in your core.

Changbin nodded, his eyes meeting yours momentarily. There was a fire in them you were very used to seeing in the privacy of your bedroom—but it brought a wave of excitement into your stomach to see that same look from him now.

You followed his hands, those beautiful hands, as he grabbed the pin and moved it all the way down to the heaviest weight class.

“Bin,” you chuckled, tilting your head in a silent question. You tried to show him with your thighs that you couldn’t possibly move that amount—you were stuck in place. The machine was set to move inwards and so without being able to move the weight your thighs were forced open.

“What?” He asked, fake innocence coating his Cheshire smile.

“It’s too heavy,” you whined, trying again to close your legs. You couldn’t even move them in the slightest.

“It looks like it’s doing the right job,” he said lowly, licking over his lips.

You were sure you let out a small squeak. That thought was confirmed when Changbin chuckled darkly.

“Get up a sec,” he asked softly. You did as you were told, and once you freed yourself from the machine and stood up on your legs, Changbin grabbed your shorts and pulled them down in one shift motion. “Sit back down.”

He hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, the sight of him looking up at you with his eyes dark and mouth wide made you almost combust on the spot. You don’t even remember sitting back down. It was the cool air in the room hitting your wet core that brought you back to the moment you were in.

“Is this okay?” He asked, delicately.

“Uh huh,” you huffed out.

“Your body looks so good when you push yourself, you know that?” He began, eyes fixed on your bare lower half and the way he could see you clenching at his words.

You were so open, so exposed, Changbin wouldn’t even dare to look away.

He did for a moment though, if only to look at your face—to see if there were any signs of discomfort or uncertainty.

“Gonna eat you out like this,” he announced his plans, which were already pretty clear to everyone involved. But Changbin knew you didn’t like surprises, so he made sure to say it.

“I’m all sweaty from the workout though,” you protested, smelling your deodorant on you. You could feel the pressure building inside your body already, the want in your pussy to be touched, to be devoured like Changbin so clearly wanted to do.

“I really don’t give a fuck,” he chuckled.

He ran his hands up your warm knees, up your thighs, all the way to where the machine had brought the skin of your hips to bunch together. Changbin grabbed at the muscle harshly, causing your lips to part slightly.

“Bin,” you whined softly, instinctively pushing your thighs together. But they wouldn’t move.

“What is it?” He smirked. He knew exactly what it was. “Baby’s too weak to move?”

“I’m not weak,” you protested, “you moved it to the highest weight!”

“Yeah, so I could do this,” and then, with no further warning, Changbin wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking. Hard.

Your moans quickly filled the room, getting higher and higher with each movement of your boyfriend’s tongue against your sensitive clit.

He parted your lips with his tongue, gathering the wetness that pooled at your entrance. He was usually hungry after a workout, but you didn’t quite expect him to be so hungry for you.

He grabbed at your upper thigh harshly, squeezing the skin between his hands as he flicked his tongue against your clit in quick motions.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” you whined, bucking your hips up as much as physically possible. Every time you tried moving your legs you were stopped by the weight of it, and every time you moaned in response.

Changbin did too, sending a wave of vibrations through your pussy at the sensation.

Soon your fingers found their way into his hair, pushing him closer to you, his tongue dipping in deeper.

“I’m close,” you mumbled, humping up and down against Changbin’s face. He placed both his hands on top of your thighs, putting more weight against you until you couldn’t move anywhere at all.

He wrapped his lips around your clit again, humming loudly, sending you all the way over the edge.

You felt your toes curl as your orgasm hit you in full force, your stomach shaking as Changbin didn’t move away in the slightest. He kept going, causing you to squirm in your spot at the overstimulation.

“Baby, baby, baby,” you begged him, trying to push him away with your hands.

Changbin quickly understood, moving away with an unstoppable grin on his face.

He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, staring at you with a glint in his eye.

“How are you?”

“My thighs hurt,” you chuckled, breathing heavily.

Changbin stood up, quickly offering you his hand as he helped you slowly step out of the machine. Once you started feeling your legs again he soothed his hands up and down your sides where he knew you’d feel the stretch most.

“Relax your body,” he instructed, “you worked hard, Y/N.”

“So did you,” you laughed, wiping the shiny patch of wetness on the corner of his lips.

“Couldn’t resist you,” he excused, leaning in to kiss you softly. You kissed him back, your hands wrapping around those back muscles you loved so much.

“Not complaining, coach,” you mumbled against his lips, the adrenaline from your orgasm settling sweetly in your body.

“Now come on. Time to stretch.”

You followed Changbin’s instructions as he helped you stretch your overworked muscles and you drank when he told you, and then ate the healthy meal he ordered for you too.

“Did that convince you to finally cancel your gym membership?” He asked once you stepped back into the main part of the house, hands linked together.

“Oh, was that a perk this gym offers?”

“Only if you have girlfriend privileges,” he smirked at you.

“Maybe show me one more time and then I’ll decide,” you smirked back.

You couldn’t even react before your body was pressed into the sofa and Changbin pushed his hips into yours, kissing you hungrily.

You’d never be tired of just how much energy he has.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #all.works #skz x y/n #skz x yn #stray kids fics #skz smut #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin x you #changbin smut #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n

[andrsnsgirl]

the new farmhand you father hired was truly something to look at when you would be at your desk doing possibly anything to be right there. the way she threw those hay-bales’ around and barked orders at your clumsy brother for falling in the mud trying to catch a chicken was so sexy to watch. her tight black tank, dark washed denim jeans, and her square toed boots fit her to a T. a wet spot forming in your lower area as the sun glistened off of her sweat. gosh, was she a treat. she’d be up earlier than your father, the sound of the sheep bleating and her yelling silly words at the herding dogs always waking you up. you couldn’t help but dream about her, she was a dream. you’d stay up and watch her ploughing the fields, with her arms flexing with every swing of her tool. oh you wish she could ploughing you next, it was incriminating to think that lowly of a woman you haven’t even met but just seeing her in general gets you rubbing your thighs together because without fail every friday night, your fingers are deep in your pussy, drunk on the thoughts of her on the field with her denim and boots on. you mewl at the thought of her big arms around your neck tightening with every thrust of her fingers hitting that spongy spot you so desperately loved.

the sun bore it’s heat in your room on a summer morning. the cooing of the mourning doves can be heard and you toss in your bed. your sticky and wet from the humid night, your hair is all over the place and making you hotter even more. your groan and head to the bathroom to clean yourself up before you head downstairs after you checked your clock for the time. you toss on a robe and slippers before leaving and lazily walk down the steps rubbing your eye with a pout hoping your father was downstairs, in the house for you to complain to him about the humid night and how badly you suffered. well, he was and so was she. you stopped at the bottom of the staircase in panic mode, maybe if you disappear right now she won't notice you in your robe. she sat and let out a guttural laugh and so did your father. they were talking over their break you assume with the water bottles and snacks in their hands. they go on for about a minute more before your father noticed you and fixed hisself, walked over to you and gave you your 'good morning' kiss on the cheek before heading out to do some more of his sweat inducing work. leaving you and the hunk of a farmhand in the kitchen.

making your way to the fridge you feel those blue eyes trail your every move. bending down in the fridge to see what you could possibly conjure up before lunch, the intense staring was too much and you prayed to God she would say something and he answered.

“hello there.” she grunts and clears her throat waiting for you to acknowledge her. that melodramatic draw in her voice is smooth and tangy, that southern accent present in the best way you know how. you squeak at the bass of her voice and peak your eyes over the fridge door. “h..hello.” you speak and stand up now to look her in the eye. she’s overpowering you even from across the room, you could feel her height looming over you. “i haven’t seen you around much, are you his uh.. daughter?” she scratches the back of her neck in the awkwardness of the room. “i am. are you the new farmhand? my father has said lots about you.” “ain’t that right?” she straightens her posture and is not fixed on the sink a little with her hands firm on the marble counter. “w..well not that much—y’know he can’t really say too much because you’re still his employee and all.” you shyly giggle to lift the awkward tension in the air but you’re not sure if it’s already gone or it’s just you. she chuckles “yep that sounds about right. say, i didn’t catch your name sweetheart.” the nickname is absolutely heaven to your ears. you tell her your name and she mutters under her breath that it was a pretty name for a pretty girl. she taps the counter twice and excuses herself to the outside claiming she has more chores to do and to help your clumsy brother, she throws in a little jab at the poor boy before giving you a wink and a smile leaving the door open, letting the breeze roam the house. you rush upstairs and immediately start your silent victory dance once your bedroom door is closed. you finally scored a conversation with the woman. looking out the window to see her shaking her head and fingers rubbing her temple at the sight of your brother covered in manure, you giggle in your hand and plop yourself on your bed. this was just the beginning of a loooong journey.

#andrsnsgirl #‿︵‿୨margot’s drabbles୧‿︵‿ #tlou 2 #abby anderson #abigail anderson #tlou abby #tlou #abby tlou #tlou2 #farmhand abigail anderson #can you tell i love country abby?

[alexetbishop]

EAT YOU OUT (NOT IN THAT SENSE)

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader

Summary: a stranger, or better, your superhero crush knocks on the door of your bakery. The only thing you could do is invite her in.

Word count: 2.6K

————————————————————————

The scent of freshly baked croissants is filling the air of the small bakery you worked at. It was still dark out, at this time of day the atmosphere in the bakery was always magical: silence was the protagonist, that was one of the perks of living in probably what was one of the quietest neighborhood of the city. And the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling were certainly helping creating a cozy environment.

You were about to start filling the croissants with some chocolate when someone knocks at the main door. You still.

You grab a whisk for precaution and walk out from the back of the shop. More knocks, the person was now looking inside with their face glued to the glass.

A faint voice came from the stranger. "Hey, I'm sorry for disturbing you but I think I need some help." That voice. You knew that voice.

You took a step forward and then another, until you were right in front of the door.

Kate Bishop. One of the newest vigilantes that got quite the attention last Christmas and that you happened to have a slight crush on was standing right out of your bakery.

You quickly opened the door and tried to stay as calm as possible.

"You're Kate Bishop." That's all you could muster seeing her so up close for the first time. Her ponytail was all destroyed, with various strands sticking out and falling on her bruised cheeks, some blood was trickling from her jaw to her neck. Her shoulders were uneven, that's when you looked down and saw that there was a big cut in her right thigh. "Oh god." You brought your hand to cover your mouth in shock.

"Yeah, I know." She chuckled. "Could I uhm- could I sit down in one of those comfy looking chairs?" She asked pointing behind you.

"Oh- uhm- yeah sure. Of course." You went to help her walk to the nearest chair and carefully sat her down on it. She dropped her bow and quiver on the floor and stretched out her aching leg. "Is there a chance you have something I could treat this with?"

"I think I have some first aid kit here somewhere. I'll go get it." You replied and sprinted to the back of the counter, you took out a small red bag and when you returned you notice she had lowered her pants to her knees, revealing her tight fit boxers and a huge cut that was basically slicing her thigh in half. Your cheeks reddened at the sight of her bare thighs. "Ah, great." She took the kit out of your hand and opened it, taking out all the stuff that she needed.

She started to tend to her wound while you were standing in front of her awkwardly, not knowing what to do. The Kate Bishop is in your bakery and she's sitting on one of your chairs. This is a dream come true.

"Hey, I could help you with that." Kate wasn't doing that great of a job cleaning the wound, she had shaky hands and she was constantly blinking as the touch of the alcohol on her blooded skin was making her tear up.

You crouched down in front of her, trying very hard to not let your mind wander towards dirty thoughts. You took a clean cotton ball and poured some alcohol on it, beginning to gently dab it on the cut. "Thanks." She mumbled before hissing in pain.

You were quite smooth with the cleaning which made Kate raise her eyebrows. "You seem to know what your doing." She grinned down at you.

You looked up for a second "I went to nursing school for a couple of months." Then you grabbed a thread so you could stitch up her wound.

"Went?" She questioned. "You dropped out?"

"Mhm." You nodded. "Wasn't for me. I decided to follow my dreams for once and not my parents'." You explained.

"Working in a bakery is your dream?" She smiled. Her hands were clutching the armrests as you were stitching her up.

"Yep." You replied.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't listen to your parents because it smells amazing in here." You chuckle and a moment of silence engulfed the shop.

"What happened?" You figured to continue the conversation while you're at it.

"Some goons tried to rob a jewelry store and one managed to cut my thigh in half." She chocked a laugh. "The usual Thursday night, am I right?"

You chuckled too. "Well, morning for me." You tied the thread at the end of the cut and stood up. "I'm all done. Although I suggest for you to go see a doctor. That is a very nasty cut."

"Oh trust me, I've had worse and I managed to get through it without any doctors just fine." She stood up and pulled her pants back on. "But thank you very much. You're a life saver, really."

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to smile like an idiot. "It's no problem, don't worry about it." You shrugged. "I'm always up to help people in need."

She smiled and took her bow and quiver from the floor. "Anyway, I better go. Don't want for the bad guys to destroy this nice smelling place." She turned around and limped to the door.

But as she was about to open it you stopped her. "Wait." You ran again to the back and gathered a few croissants and doughnuts in a bag.

"Here." You handed it to her when you returned.

A smile tugged on her lips. "I don't have any money on me." The sweet scent of the pastries made her heart warm up. "It's on the house. Plus they're great for getting your energy back."

"Thank you..." She trailed off and looked down to your chocolate covered apron where there was your name sewn on the top left corner. "y/n." She smiled and waved at you before stepping out in the cold winter morning.

—

A few weeks have passed since the encounter with the vigilante. You couldn't stop thinking about her and each morning you hoped that she would come back. And she would do that way sooner than you think.

"Hey, it's me again." Kate knocked on the thick glass separating her from you.

You beamed when you opened the door. This time she didn't seem to have any major cuts. Just a few little bruises and scratches on her face and arms. "Hi."

You repeated the process of tending to her, but this time it seemed to be much more intimate as you could see her sapphire eyes on you and feel her ragged breath on your face. "Were you making cinnamon rolls?" She asked as your hands were tending to a cut on her jaw.

You nod. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"You smell like cinnamon." She says softly. Blood rushes to your cheeks. "Can I have a couple to bring home?" She asked you as you finished to stitch her up. "And don't say it's on the house. I'll pay you this time." She stood up and took out a couple of bills from her back pocket placing them in your hand.

You roll your eyes "Kate, really. I don't need your money." You hand them back to her and before she could do or say anything else you walked to the back. Kate followed you and her mouth rested agape as she took in all the scents and trays full of different type of pastries, from simple croissants to full on cakes. "Woah. I think I just entered heaven."

You chuckle at her statement and put a couple of cinnamon rolls in a bag. "Yeah. It really is heaven. But only when I don't burn anything. Otherwise it becomes the opposite." You joked and handed the bag to Kate. She took it and stood in her place looking at it. After a moment she grinned and placed it on a nearby table.

"I think I know how I can repay you without money." She removed the upper part of her superhero suit, throwing it on a chair in the corner, revealing a white tank top. "Do you have an extra apron?"

You stood there for a moment in silence.

God, look at those muscles. No, what are you doing? That's creepy. Don't look at her muscles.

"Come on, I wanna help you. I took your time away and some extra hands won't hurt, right?" She is puppy eyeing you now.

"Uh- O-Okay." You stuttered then turned around, taking an apron that was hanging from a rack. She put it on and went to wash her dirty hands. You followed suit and then went to take a tray of cinnamon rolls that needed icing.

"I must warn you though, I'm not good at baking or cooking or being in the kitchen in general." She laughed. "But I swear I'll try my best not to burn down your bakery."

You smiled shaking your head and gave her a brush. "Then let's start with something easy." You slid a bowl full of icing to her. "Brush it on those rolls."

She nodded and started working while you went to mix the batter for some muffins.

"This is fun." She is leaning forward a bit, moving the brush carefully across the cinnamon rolls.

You looked over and smiled, she looked adorable with her tongue between her teeth, focused on doing a good job.

"Do you own this bakery?"

"Yeah. It was my grandma's. She was the one who taught me all the recipes and made this apron right before she died." You pointed at your chest.

You never become this personal with people you just met, but something about Kate makes you think that you could tell her everything.

"That's very sweet." She says and then takes back her words. "I mean, that you were close with your grandma not that she... died." She trailed off and continued to ice the rolls with her head down.

You laughed. "It's okay. I understood what you meant." You stop stirring and approach her. "You can stop now. That's enough icing." She drops the brush near the tray.

"I think you're ready for something more challenging." You take out a tray with muffins. "Take that sac a poche and put the cream over the muffins."

She furrows her eyebrows "The sac a what?"

"That white thingie on your right. You squeeze it and the cream comes out."

"Oh, okay." She grabs it and fumbles with it a bit before squeezing a bit too hard, making almost half the icing come out. "Oops."

You chuckle. "Do it more gently. Like this." You put your hand over Kate's and guide her. You feel Kate's breath catch in her throat as she gazes at you, you're so close. And she wants to be closer.

"Do slow and circular motions, got it?" Your words get her back from the trance she was in.

"You make it look so easy."

"Yeah but I have years of practice behind me." You watch her as she tries to do it like you explained.

Once all of them were topped with the icing, you take some containers with sprinkles. "Now, to the real fun part." You grin and pour a good amount of the colorful beads on a muffin. She does the same and you laugh together.

—

Since then Kate showed up more and more. Sometimes she didn't even need medical attention, she just went straight to work. You laughed and talked together about everything and nothing. There have been intimate moments, but they never went further than a few glances and hands brushing here and there.

"No, no no. Don't pour it too fast." During the past couple months Kate has learned the basics of baking and she decided she was ready to make her own biscuits, even if she was still sloppy sometimes, like in this moment, when she's pouring the flour all in one go.

You stopped her by covering her hand that was holding the cup of flour. "You need to pour it little by little and mix gently."

"I think I'm pouring it just fine. They're my biscuits after all." She grinned and grabbed a bit of flour from the cup, splatting it on your cheek.

Shock flashed your eyes. "Oh, so that's how you wanna play?" You smirked and grabbed a handful of flour spreading it all over her face.

She blew away some that got into her mouth. Yet she didn't seem offended, only for a second, before a cheeky grin was tugging at her lips. She took some more flour and threw a handful at you. You continue to go like that, back and forth, until you grabbed a full bag, ready to throw it at her.

"Okay, okay. Time out. I think it's enough of playing around." She lifted both her hands over her head, the cup too. Yet, her grin didn't disappear. You went to place the bag where it was when you feel something fall on your head.

Kate was folded, arms over her stomach, laughing so hard at your now white head. "You are so going to pay for this." You charged towards her and you two started a messy fight that didn't last very long because you fell due to the flour making the floor slippery.

You groaned as your back came in contact with the hard floor, Kate fell on top of you as you were holding her by the waist.

Your cheek flushed and you doubted the flour would cover the red growing on your face. Kate reached out and wiped away some flour from your forehead, but it didn't really work because her hands were all covered too.

You both burst out in a laughing fit, Kate leaning her head down on your shoulder. Once you calmed down, you took long and deep breaths as Kate lifted her head up. A soft smile was adorning her flour covered face. You aren't sure but her eyes flickered to your lips for a millisecond. "That was a complete waste of flour." You finally said.

Kate titled her head and bit her bottom lip. "I don't think so. You look adorable with all of that in your hair."

You let out a chuckle, flushing a darker shade of red. "And you look ridiculous."

"I think you meant ridiculously cute." You cracked a laugh and her face came closer to yours.

"I think I didn't." You say back and make the mistake of looking down at her lips. When you looked up you noticed Kate's gaze was focused on your lips too.

Her hand reached your cheek, and when you leaned your head up, bumping your noses, she took it as a sign to completely give in.

Her lips tasted of flour. You had imagined this moment so many times and it couldn't have been more perfect. You wanted to get more of her taste but she pulled away.

"How is that you're completely covered in flour and you still taste like sugar and chocolate." Your giggle was interrupted by another kiss, this time she took her time to go further. "I swear I could eat you out right now."

That made you back up.

Kate's eyes widened in fear when she realised how bad her words sounded. "I meant- like- just kissing you and tasting the chocolate. Not like that. Definitely not, at least not yet. I mean, if you want to we could totally do it but I don't think that you-" You shut her up with another kiss.

"I got what you meant." You smile against her lips that you were about to kiss again when a figure appeared on the doorframe.

"What the hell is going on here?!" That was Peter, your friend and coworker. You were having such a good time with Kate that you didn't even notice the sun was already out and that it's time to open the bakery.

You looked at him then back at Kate and another fit of laughter possessed the both of you, leaving Peter standing there confused.

"We should get cleaned up." You suggest.

"Yeah, we probably should." She laughs and pecks you one more time on the lips.

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #fluff #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop fic #first kiss #marvel

[salty-croissants]

Bullfrog and Rayman/Ramon x reader : mistletoes

Woo , Christmas special baby !!

Since tomorrow I’m gonna be away to spend time with family , I figured it would be best to post this today since I’m gonna be way too tired to write when I get back :,)👍

I love the ideas of the boys and the reader being soft during the holidays , it just really brings me joy ^^ 

Anyway , I hope it turned out okay , and make sure to have a wonderful Christmas 🎄❣️

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

presence of slightly suggestive themes , but mostly lots of fluff ❤️

Bullfrog 💚

Let’s start by saying that given how constantly vigilant Bullfrog is , it won’t be easy to try to sneak a mistletoe above him : 

he just has a way of knowing each and every one of your movements , so … 

Yep , better get ready for a challenge . 

< Hm ? Is that a mistletoe you’re holding , mon amour ? > 

< Aw noo - I thought I got you this time ! > 

He will probably apologize to you a lot for “ruining” your surprise , trying to make up for it with some extra affection and cuddles …

This frog is just an absolute sweetheart , and he’ll use any excuse he can use to show you just how much he loves you :,//)

< Honey , it’s okay , really ! You don’t have to feel bad about it ! 

I know you can’t help but be careful about what goes on around you , you’re being way too hard on yourself . > 

< Heh , merci y/n … you always know what to say  ~ > 

When you eventually manage to lure Bullfrog in the living room and tell him to look up , you’ll find that all your careful planning was definitely worth it just to see that lovely smile on his face …

< Well , look at that … tu m'as surpris , y/n ~ > 

Now come closer … it’s time I reward your hard work , ne penses tu pas ? ~ > 

Honestly he’ll take any excuse to kiss you , but this occasion feel even more special … You went out of your way to prepare such an adorable surprise for him , so you better believe that you and Bullfrog won’t be leaving your spot under the mistletoe for quite some time ;//) 

Rayman 🧡

Rayman is probably the most smooth and romantic man alive , so he will probably plan for a mistletoe surprise way ahead of you , from the very beginning of the holidays in fact .

Sometimes you can see him carrying Christmas lights around , and you can’t help but have the feeling that he has something in mind … 

< Hold on , let me help you with that Ray … why do you need these many lights anyway ? > 

< Ah , you’ll have to wait and see , honey : I think you’re gonna like it ~ > 

If there is one thing that Rayman loves is creating atmosphere , so the night you eventually go back to his lounge to find it all decorated ( with also tons of gifts for you , cause let’s not forget how much this guy loves to spoil you ;//> ) , you can’t help but feel an overwhelming joy at the thought that he did all of this just to make you smile …

< Heh , I take it you like my little surprise , hm ? ~ >

< Like it ? I love it Ray , it’s amazing ! 

You’re such a sweetheart , thank you so much ~ > 

< No need to thank me , it’s really the least I could do for you y/n !

Though if I were you , I’d take a look at the ceiling for a second … > 

As soon as you look up and see a mistletoe hanging above the two of you , the way you blush in realization is enough to make Rayman’s heart skip a beat …

He just can’t get enough of how beautiful you look right now , your cute features  illuminated by the lights he placed all over the room .

< Heh , I … wanted to make you a mistletoe surprise at some point too , but I think you’ve handled it way better than me , hun . > 

< Don’t worry my love , there’s plenty of time for another one … I’ll gladly take any chances I can get to kiss you , so that’s definitely not a problem for me ~ > 

His incredibly cheesy , adorable comment makes you chuckle , and when you lean forward to meet his lips you can hear Rayman sigh softly while kissing you back , almost like he had been looking forward to that moment all night …

You’re honestly anything he could ever ask for , and if he had the ability to stop time he would be more than happy to do it here under the mistletoe , alone with his beloved ❤️

Ramon 🖤

He isn’t … feeling very festive :

while he does his best to smile when he’s around you , Ramon’s mind is crowded with worries about Eden , about getting the both of you caught , but since you know him better than anyone you were quick to catch up to that . 

< Hey , it’s okay if you don’t feel like doing much for the holidays , y’know ?

We can just stay here and relax . > 

< Yeah , but … I don’t know , I would’ve liked to do something special for you , but we can’t go anywhere without risking to have those assholes notice us … > 

< Ram , we don’t have to … the best gift I could’ve wished for is already here , right next to me , so please don’t worry about that , okay ? > 

< Heh … that was very smooth y/n , not gonna lie ~ 

Seriously though , thank you … it means a lot . > 

Despite what you told him , Ramon is still very determined to find a way to show you his appreciation for everything you’ve done for him , so the moment he finds a mistletoe hidden in a box an idea crosses his mind : 

it may be small , but it might just work . 

< Hey y/n ? Could you come here ? > 

< Coming Ram ! Just give me a second , I was trying to see if we had enough ingredients to make some Christmas cookies … > 

As soon as you reach the living room , you get the feeling that there is something different about it , even though you can’t exactly pin point what it is …

However , when you look up and see the mistletoe hanging on the ceiling you realize what’s going on .

< Aw , that’s so cute love ! I - mm — > 

Before you can even finish your sentence , Ramon’s hands get a hold of you , gently pushing you down to lock your lips in a loving , passionate kiss …

You didn’t really expect that to happen , but you’re definitely not disappointed … not one bit .

< … here … take this as my gift for you , my love ~ 

I know it’s not much , but - > 

< Ramon , sweetie … > 

The moment your hand caresses his hair he immediately melts under your touch , his eyes never leaving yours as you smile tenderly at your boyfriend .

< It was perfect ~ > 

That was the start of a night filled with displays of affection , and while holding you in his arms in your bed Ramon can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world , even though you’re both wanted by Eden’s police forces …

For once , those worries can’t seem to torment him , and he couldn’t be happier . 

#captain laserhawk #x reader #rayman x reader #bullfrog x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #rayman #captain lazerhawk bullfrog #gender neutral reader #ramon captain laserhawk #cl rayman

[planetkiimchi]

the language of flowers | l.jn

featuring: film director!jeno x artist!reader (no gendered terms), jaemin, chenle and jisung cameos

summary — jeno doesn't speak of his affection in words. instead, he teaches you that the letter "L", in his love language of flowers, is for lavender lozenges, lily of the valleys, lockets and love.

author's note: damn the stars rlly aligned for me to post this one... originally was just gonna let it rot in my drafts but here i am posting it for @strxbrymochi 's bday. happy belated bday ki !! muah ily

You should have been prepared for Jeno to be constantly busy when you started dating him four months ago. But it still comes as a shock to you when Jeno sits you down on a Saturday afternoon, a plate of violet cookies placed in front of you.

"I'm sorry," he begins. The moment the words escape his lips, you know what this is all about. Even so, you keep quiet, allowing him to continue with the apology he's prepared.

"I've been signed on to do a short film, and they want us to do the shooting overseas."

Although you knew it was coming, it still comes as a punch to your gut. Being away from Jeno is hard for you, and you don’t want to let him go.

"Where to?" you ask, the words coming out before you can stop them. It's too late now to tell him to stay, and you curse your brain for being two steps behind your stupid, ever-running mouth.

"London. It's a Victorian era film, they said, about flowers."

You permit yourself a small smile. "You love flowers."

Jeno looks down, nodding once. "Yep."

You reach over, tilting his chin up. "Look at me."

He does, eyes quivering anxiously while he waits for you to speak. You’re always the one talking—rambling—and now that you’re silent, it must scare him. You touch your forehead to his, and you feel him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Don't be sorry. Go, and enjoy yourself. Pour your soul into it. I'll wait for you to come back, okay? Don't forget me when you're busy working with everyone else."

Jeno lifts up his hand, and you press your palm against his, fingers interlocking with his. "Won't forget you," Jeno mumbles. "I couldn't ever forget you."

You grin, kissing his nose. "I know you wouldn't, silly boy."

—

As Jeno wheels his luggage over the smooth airport floor, he turns to look over at you, shuffling your feet and staring at the ground. He leans over, whispering in your ear, "Blue salvia."

Think of me. It's one of the first flowers that Jeno gave you before you started dating, a secret confession you only learnt about when he finally told you what it meant. Now, it serves as encouragement for you, something to accompany you when Jeno can't.

You smile at him, eyes wide and pensive. "Have a safe flight."

Jeno wraps you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. He doesn't know when he'll get to see you again, and he's not sure if he can survive these months without you. But for both of your sakes, he'll try.

"See you later, alligator."

"In a while, crocodile," you reply, the familiar words a promise between the two of you to weather this storm together.

—

Jeno sits in his seat, flipping his phone in his hand as he waits impatiently for the plane to take off. He tries his best not to look at the time, trying not to count down the seconds in his mind, trying not to keep track of how long it's been since he last saw your face.

An announcement starts to play, asking all passengers on the flight to turn their attention to the flight attendants as they begin the safety briefing. Jeno looks at the flight attendant, but doesn't process the words he's hearing, his mind too focused on the thought of you.

He slips his hand into his pocket, his fingers finding purchase. The plastic crinkles in his palm as he draws the object out, realising that it's a sweet. You told him once that you always have to bring sweets when you’re flying, to suck on in order to prevent your ears from getting blocked.

Jeno has packed the mints you asked him to, but they're in his bag. He swiped the lavender lozenges from your stash that morning, a keepsake to remember you by on the trip. As the pilot announces that the plane is taking off, Jeno pops the sweet into his mouth, the taste of sugar and lavender dissolving on his tongue.

He misses you.

—

Jeno is rudely awakened from his sleep by Jaemin shaking his shoulder. "Good morning," the elder says in a singsong voice, and Jeno's eyes spring open. He casts Jaemin a dirty look, but the latter just grins back at him.

Jeno sighs irritably, getting to his feet and hauling himself out of the bed. His heart's not in it—not in this trip, and maybe not even in the film—and Jaemin knows it.

However, it's not like either of them has a choice. Jaemin liked the script for this film, and Jeno did too. He had plenty of ideas for the film. Despite it being a small project, Jeno believes it can turn out much better than people are expecting it to.

The only issue is that it's not in Korea. It's far away from you, and Jeno needs you in more ways than one. You are his source of comfort and his pillar of strength, but most importantly, you are his muse. Without you, he finds himself unable to function, not knowing which step to take next. Because all he wants to do is find the path that leads back to you, even if it's the worst or stupidest decision he could possibly make.

Longing gnaws at him every day, carving a giant you-sized hole in his chest. He snatches his copy of the script off the table, and Jaemin takes a sweeping glance over the room.

"You've surprisingly tidy for someone who looks like he has zero motivation to keep things organised."

"That's because all of my shit is in my suitcase, so I'm prepared to go back at the shortest notice."

Jaemin rolls his eyes at Jeno's retort, clapping his hands together. "Alright, smartass. Get moving so you won't be the last one to arrive again."

Jeno tugs on his shoes, slipping his hands into his coat and taking an umbrella before getting out of the door.

—

Your takeout arrives earlier than expected, and you suddenly recall that you haven’t checked your mailbox in almost a week. Usually, Jeno's the one who does it, collecting mail while waiting for the elevator to arrive. When Jeno had just left, you had made a conscious effort to check the mailbox every day, but now that it's been almost a month, you’re starting to forget again.

You pick up the takeout box and place the food on the table before exiting again and heading downstairs to check the mailbox.

As per usual, the mailbox is full of bills, although usually the number of letters is much fewer. You mindlessly flip through the envelopes, not paying much attention, until one of the letters catches your eye.

It's sealed with wax, which strikes you as odd—who even uses wax to seal envelopes in this day and age?—and you place it on top of the other letters to examine later.

Upstairs, you neatly place the letters on the dining table for you to settle later on. Then, you turn your attention back to the sleek, cream-coloured envelope, intrigued.

You take a closer look at the wax seal, realising that it's a stamp of a flower bouquet. Could it be from Jeno? you wonder.

It doesn't seem very likely, however. Jeno has never been one for dramatic flair, and the simple yet elegant letter practically screams dramatic. There's only one person you knows that's this dramatic, and it's…

"Donghyuck," you breathe out. One of Jeno's college friends, Donghyuck is the definition of dramatic. He loves to exaggerate and make a big fuss out of everything, and it's entertaining to say the least. Donghyuck is also chattier than most, similar to yourself, and the two of you had hit it off when you first met at one of Jeno's college roommate's place.

Donghyuck is essentially your key to Jeno's past. Jeno has been a solitary creature for all the time you’ve known him, and he doesn't talk much about his life before he met you. Besides Jaemin and Donghyuck, Jeno doesn't initiate much interaction with his old friends either. His friends respect that, so you don’t know much about what Jeno was like in the past.

However, Donghyuck is different. He loves to bring up embarrassing memories, inside jokes, and tell people old stories about his friends. You have always loved to listen to Donghyuck talk about Jeno in college, or even his first impression of Jeno when he saw him around in high school.

If it weren't for Donghyuck, you might not even have known about Jeno's friends' whereabouts now, nor have gotten to know about them.

Remembering the letter in your hand, you hurriedly get a hairdryer to heat up the seal, gingerly removing it and opening up the letter.

Dear Jeno and Y/n, you are cordially invited to Lee Donghyuck and Ha Yeon-seok's wedding...

Wait, what? You read the first line again, your heart stopping when you see the word “wedding”. Wedding? It takes you a few seconds to remember that you’re 24 now, which is almost a reasonable age to get married at. Since neither you nor Jeno had dated anyone for a while before you got together, sometimes you forget that other people have been dating for years now.

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, and continue reading.

The wedding is to be held in London, and it briefly crosses your mind that Yean-seok is half British. Once you’ve processed that information, you do a double take and check the date. It's in six months from now, and you have to get presentable clothes that fit the colour scheme within that time period.

While you’re wondering now to get the clothes in time, your phone dings.

jeno: hey, y/n you: hello jeno: i have... news.

Jeno calls to inform you that, regrettably, there has been a complication with some of the scenes. For one scene in particular, they had arranged for a horse carriage to be used during the filming. However, due to a miscommunication, the horse has been sold to someone else instead.

The screenwriter insists on having the horse be a specific breed for stylistic reasons, but the budget for the project makes it infeasible for the team to find a suitable horse in a short span of time.

Jaemin wants to postpone the project so he can discuss the details with the screenwriter, and clarify everything to ensure there will be no more hiccups in the production. The rest of the team will either fly back to Korea, or stay in London, whichever is more convenient for them. Since editing can be done remotely, there is little incentive for them to all have to renew their visas.

However, Jaemin has asked Jeno to stay in London so all of the important members of the team can be physically present, to ensure everybody is on the same page.

When you ask Jeno when he will return, he shrugs and says, "In two months, or half a year—I have no clue."

Although you’re upset and annoyed with his lack of a reaction, you understand that Jeno is upset too. He's suppressing his emotions, which is a bad habit of his. But you aren’t going to lash out and make him feel more demoralised, so you just mutter a quick "love you" and hang up.

After hanging up, you belatedly realise you haven’t told him about the wedding invitation yet. Still reeling from his indifferent attitude, you decide to tell him after both of you have cooled down.

—

Days turn into weeks, that turn into months, and somehow you haven’t been able to address the issue of Donghyuck's wedding. You have been through your closet countless times, and after rummaging and filtering through both of your clothes, you’ve prepared a suitable ensemble for both of them.

You’ve sent an RSVP to Donghyuck to let him know that you and Jeno would be attending, and an excited Donghyuck had sent you a video of Yeon-seok and himself clapping happily.

You have also booked a flight for a week before the date of the wedding, to give yourself time to adjust to the time difference, and you plan to stay after the wedding to spend time with your and Jeno's friends as well.

Despite having settled almost everything, you’ve left one very important detail out—you haven’t discussed it with Jeno yet.

Jeno knows that there's a wedding, of course. Donghyuck had announced it in the group chat when he and Yeon-seok first got engaged, and Yeon-seok had sent an update once the details of the wedding were confirmed.

When Jeno told you about the wedding, you told him about the invitation, and you both laughed over how excessive it was.

But if you said any more about the wedding, you’d have to bring up the elephant in the room and ask if Jeno would still be working on "Chamomile Tea" during the time period, if he'd be busy, or if he'd return to Korea before that. And that, even after all the time that had passed, remained a sore spot for both of you.

So even as the date loomed closer, your conversations with Jeno never went too far in the direction of the wedding. Instead, you tiptoed around the upcoming event like shattered glass was sprinkled over it, and you didn't know what the consequences of stepping on it would be.

Arriving in London is a dream. It always has been, since you learnt that their universities look like castles and their winter consists of dreary, rainy mornings that are perfect for staying in and cuddling while cheesy rom-coms play on the TV. But it's never been your dream to land in London alone, with no one to pick you up from the airport, standing starstruck in the middle of the polished floors while people hurry by.

Some lady you don't recognise waves at you. When you frown, squinting to see if it's a familiar face, the lady walks up to you and grins, "Hi! I'm Soyeon."

You cock your head in contusion.

"I'm the screenwriter for 'Chamomile Tea', the short film Jaemin's overseeing. He wasn't able to come because he's busy trying to keep Jeno out of trouble, he said."

You let out a short laugh. That does, in fact, sound like Jaemin's job most of the time. Soyeon hands you a ticket, folding your fingers around it before you can protest.

"Jeno wanted all three of us to go to an art museum to get inspiration, but I've already finished my part for this project. All that's left for me is to give input, not come up with more ideas. Jaemin suggested that I give my ticket to you, so here it is." Taking a closer look at the ticket, you realise that it's an exhibition meant to celebrate the changing of season from summer to autumn.

"Leaves turning brown," you read aloud. "Petals fall and colours fade, yet many are enraptured by the cooling season that is autumn. Artist Hwang Yeji explores textures, colours and more in this vibrant display."

Soyeon smiles encouragingly at you. "I've known Jeno only for a few months, and he's always been extremely cold towards everyone, but his face lights up whenever he receives a text from you. And when you order takeout for him? That's the only time I see him enjoy his meals."

Your lips tremble as Soyeon continues, "Jeno's mind is a complex place. I'd hate for all that creative potential to be wasted just because he's busy moping. That's why I offered to pick you up instead of Jaemin—I was interested to know who could be the only one to make Jeno truly smile."

You close the distance between yourself and Soyeon, wrapping your arms around the latter. Even if you have only just met her, Soyeon seems so sweet and genuine. Her honest words caught you off guard, but you are touched that she dared to say them.

Soyeon pats your hair comfortingly. "Let me know if you need any more help."

You discreetly blink back tears, ignoring the stinging sensation in your nose, and force a smile. "Thanks, Soyeon."

"You're very welcome."

—

You climb out of the taxi with a sunflower in hand and your suitcase in the other. The exhibition is held in a building with windows as wide as you are tall, the stained glass illuminated by the sunlight.

The lady at the entrance scans your ticket and waves you through with a smile, and you return it before heading on inside.

Panels upon panels of stained glass line the corridors, angled in a way that pictures of light are projected on the ground, weaving between the paintings, casting an angelic glow on each artwork.

Jaemin catches your eye before you can get stuck at any of the paintings, and shushes you with a finger on his lips as you speed up.

"Hi, jagiya," he says lowly, wrapping you in a quick hug. "Jeno's busy and I didn't tell him you were coming, so the rest is up to you. I'll leave the two of you alone, okay? Call me if you need me."

You nod, squeezing his shoulder gratefully.

—

You tuck your sunflower behind your back and wheel your suitcase to the side, silently approaching Jeno. He's completely absorbed in studying the details of the painting, so you gently rest your chin on his shoulder.

"Hey, baby." Jeno turns, coming face-to-face with you. Your noses touch, and from the corners of your eyes, you see Jeno's cheeks flush red-hot. You raise your hand to cool his cheek, but he grabs your wrist first, eyes locked on your face. His pupils dart from side to side, scouring your face as if he's afraid you’re just a figment of his imagination.

You stay in that position, Jeno’s fingers curled around your wrist, until he's convinced that you’re real, at which point his face floods with exhaustion and relief.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the space between your chin and collarbone. His hands come to rest naturally around your waist, and his hand brushes against the sunflower.

He moves back suddenly, surprised, and you awkwardly manoeuvre your arms around him. This allows you to present the sunflower you bought at a nearby florist to your boyfriend, and you’re delighted by the grin spreading across his lips.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" He asks.

"No, but you've given me red camellias, and I think that’s basically the same thìng."

Jeno chuckles. "Basically.”

Jeno reaches for your suitcase, holding tightly onto the sunflower you’ve just given him. He turns to you, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "Well? I'll take you back to her hotel."

You frown, pulling back in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"Aren't you tired?"

You wave his concern off flippantly. "I'll be just fine. I'll crash later, and the jetlag will hit me like a truck, but I've already allocated a week for getting used to it."

Jeno snorts. "As expected."

You wave your ticket. "Hey, Soyeon's already passed up her chance to see this exhibition so I could go, okay? I'm not planning to waste it."

Jeno nods hastily in an attempt to placate you. "Okay! Let's go then."

He trails behind you obediently until you see a piece that catches your fancy, stopping to take a look. The painting depicts several lilies of the valley in a vase. Behind the vase, there are two mountains painted in grey, but the small patch of grass that the lilies sit on is several vibrant shades of green.

You stay in front of that painting for a while, impressed by the details and texture on the canvas. A shutter sound catches your attention, and you blink a few times before turning to see Jeno holding up his camera and smiling sheepishly.

He rubs the back of his neck and says, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. You looked too good standing there, I just had to get a shot of you."

"It's okay." You look back at the canvas, eyebrows knitting together. 

"Don't you think the art style looks familiar?"

"I don't know much about paintings, so I can't say... " Jeno's reply dies on his lips, and he, too, stares at the painting with interest. "You're right, it does look familiar."

The two of you hum in concentration, Jeno resting his chin on top of your head while you wrack your brain for an answer. You tilt your head this way and that, and then it hits you.

"Park Jisung," you say at the same time Jeno does. "How did you–"

Jeno points at a small square of text. "It says right here. Park Jisung, 24, oil on canvas." You mentally slap your forehead. How could you forget that museums put up a description of each artwork and its artist? You must be too tired from the flight.

"That's right, " you say. "That's why it looks so familiar. Contrasting colours was one of the most defining aspects of his style."

You met Jisung at a kids' art camp when you were in university, and the two of you had learnt a lot from each other while teaching the kids. You were surprised to find out that he was two years your senior in a different university, despite being the same age as you.

You lost contact with him after that, and were very, very shocked to see him at Jeno's college reunion. Although you don't speak much to Jisung now, the things you learnt from him at that one camp will stick with you forever.

"That kid's insane," Jeno muses. "He skipped a year in elementary, lived with hyungs he barely knew in university, and did side jobs because he hadn't gotten a scholarship to pay for his tuition fees, unlike Yeon-seok."

You shrug. "Maybe not 'insane'. Just determined."

Jeno nods. "And he's not much of a kid anymore, is he?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Not anymore."

—

As you wander around with Jeno, stopping at paintings to admire them, a sense of melancholy threatens to overwhelm you, slipping between your eyelids like a mass of black water, a receding wave preparing to crash upon the shore of your eyelashes.

You blink back thoughts of insecurity, trying to focus on the artworks and not your feelings, but it’s no use. You can’t escape from the thoughts running wild in your head, and it gets the better of you, a lone tear managing to get past your barriers, trailing slowly down your cheek.

You subtly wipe it away, but Jeno notices immediately, and he stops short.

He turns towards you, concern emanating off his being, and it offers you some comfort. He holds you carefully, like he’s not sure if you’ll break apart in his hands. His body shields you from anything else in the museum, encasing you in a bubble of protection and silence.

You breathe in deeply; once, then twice. You feel the heat behind your eyes slowly fading to a simple stinging sensation, one that doesn’t make you feel completely helpless.

Jeno’s hands tighten around you, and you instinctively lean in towards him. He doesn’t speak, allowing you to unravel the spool of thread wrapped around your lungs, prying apart the anxiety that prevents you from breathing.

When you can think straight again, you look at Jeno, and he knows.

Without words, understanding passes between you, and Jeno knows everything that’s running through your mind.

He nudges you, gently. Are you okay? his eyebrows ask, raising so high they almost disappear into his fringe.

You can lie about a lot of things, like why you came to the museum in the first place or how you feel staring at the art on the walls or whether you’re okay right now, but you don’t. Because you know that regardless of what you say, Jeno will see right through you like you’re a ghost. You’ll never understand if it’s because it’s you, or if everyone’s feelings are transparent to him. You don’t think you care.

It’s enough to just stand there, weightless. You’re completely supported by Jeno, whose embrace is so tight it’s practically lifting you off the ground, and you;re not complaining.

If he could lift your burdens off your mind the same way he’s lifting your feet from the ground right now, he would. And you would want him to.

“I feel like my art’s worth nothing if it can’t be shown to the world.” You speak slowly, uncertainly, knowing you might cry if you let everything out too quickly. Jeno wants to stop you before you get caught up in the flow of you words, but he knows it’s better if you let it all out.

Opening a bottle of carbonated soda that’s just been shaken is dangerous, but if he leaves it alone, the bottle might just explode.

“I know I don’t make art to be seen. I make it for myself. But at the same time, can any artist say that their craft is not made for the eyes of man? We all long for approval and praise, and that is partly what we make art for.”

Your lips tremble, and Jeno finds himself forced to stare at your quivering eyelashes and the sheen of tears you’re barely holding back. Still, you steel yourself, digging your heels into the ground to steady yourself.

“I wonder, sometimes. If my art isn’t seen, is it even art anymore?”

That’s the minefield, the question Jeno can’t answer without speaking baseless comfort. He has no answer to it, only empty words that he knows will fail to put you at ease.

You, however, don’t expect an answer. You look curiously at Jeno, waiting for a response, but the response doesn’t have to be a satisfactory answer.

Jeno leans in, tucking your head between his chin and his collarbone, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

He holds you there until you’ve stopped trembling. Then, one hand still firmly in yours, he takes you back to the hotel, sitting on the edge of your single bed while you sit and stare into nothingness.

When you make no move to get changed, he stands, and brings you to the bathroom. He peels the clothes from your body, helping to scrub your skin until it’s a rosy shade of pink, then wraps you in a towel and moves your arms to dry your body.

After he’s showered, the two of you sit on the bed, Jeno on top of the covers, while you’re tucked underneath them. Jeno has no change of clothes, no money, only his phone and both of your tickets to the museum.

In his street clothes, he refuses to get under the blanket and dirty the bed, but you are content with his presence.

You lie on the bed with your arms wrapped around Jeno’s waist, and when the shock has faded, you cry yourself to sleep.

Jeno is there throughout it, a beaming light in the whirlwind of emotions you’re experiencing, a constant presence that grounds you. He allows you to breathe between sobs, until they slowly fade away and your eyes close, motionless.

The next day, you find a wreath of galaxes on your bedside table, along with a glass of water, and it feels like a great weight has finally been removed from your shoulders.

The day of Donghyuck’s wedding comes earlier than you were expecting. Between taking you out to dinner and going on bike rides around the city, Jeno has kept you busy. Busy enough to forget your troubles, or at least for you to be able to cope with them in a relatively healthy manner.

You hear three knocks on the door, and as you go to open it, you see Jeno standing there, in the emerald green tuxedo you picked for him and the matching tie. His shirt is a pale green, so pale it can be mistaken for white, and gel gives his hair a wet gleam.

He smiles innocently, and it outshines all the charm his outfit has.

You fell in love with all of Jeno, after all, not just his appearance.

Your sage green dress flows past your ankles, and it would drag on the floor if you weren't wearing heels. They’re tall, but even with them on, you are still only the same height as Jeno. He grins at you, and carries you, bridal-style, into the lift lobby.

“Leave some room for the grooms later, stop trying to one-up them,” you joke, but Jeno only hoists you up into a more comfortable position.

“No can do,” Jeno says cheekily.

You don't pursue it.

—

A surprise awaits you in the car. As you open the door to the passenger side, you find that it’s filled—and so is the driver’s seat. Your heart skips a beat, thinking you must’ve gone to the wrong car, but the sight of the driver’s face makes you do a double take.

“Jisung?”

Jisung offers you a shy grin. “Yep, it’s me.”

“Is it really you? I thought… I never thought I’d see you again! How–” your words come out from your mouth before you can think them through, your rapid-fire Korean faltering in your confusion.

“Donghyuck and I are friends, remember?” You don't really, but if Jeno and Jisung are friends from college, it makes sense that Donghyuck would know them both too.

You clap a hand over your mouth, mind reeling. “So… you were invited to the wedding too?”

Jisung nods. Then, he gestures towards the lady in the driver’s seat. “I also have to introduce her to you. Y/n, meet Yeji. Yeji, Y/n.”

Yeji offers her hand for you to shake, and you take it, wondering where you’ve heard the name before. Yeji, Yeji, Yeji… Ah. You’ve got it. “Hwang Yeji?”

She’s the artist who organised the exhibition Soyeon had given you tickets to view. It was there, at the museum, that you saw Jisung’s art. If she really is Hwang Yeji, then everything will make sense.

Yeji nods. “Pleasure to meet you.”

She picks up a small bouquet of pink peonies, orange tulips and heather, presenting it to you. “Jisung showed me a few of your pieces, mostly older ones,” she says by way of explanation. “They had the potential to become something more. I heard from Jeno that you’d seen my exhibition, so I know you probably like flowers, and you know that I like them too. So this bouquet is an invitation for you to work with me some time, for us to perhaps collaborate on another exhibition in future.”

You are taken aback by the sudden offer, but you’re not an idiot. You remember the way you had collapsed into Jeno the week before, scared that you would never be able to get your art out there. Now, your chance is right in front of you.

You take it.

Gratefully receiving the bouquet, you don’t miss the symbolism of the flowers, the goodwill the arrangement holds. You know it is intentional.

“Thank you for your offer. I look forward to working with you.”

Yeji shakes your hand heartily, and you and Jeno get into the backseat.

After settling in, you rest the bouquet on your lap, and you turn to see Jeno holding a white rose. You frown, wondering where he could’ve conjured it from, and lock eyes with Jisung in the driver’s mirror. You raise your eyebrows in question, and he shrugs innocently.

You roll your eyes at the conspirators, but turn your attention back to Jeno. Jeno carefully slips the white rose into the side of the bouquet, managing to prevent it from looking uneven. You play with the petals of the rose, its symbolism clear in your head.

Used to congratulate people on career successes, your mind supplies helpfully. The only career success you can think of right now is also the most recent one, Yeji’s offer to you. But there’s no way Jeno could have known that Yeji would put that offer out. Unless…

“Did you know?” You ask, tone accusing. You doesn’t have to finish the question; Jeno understands what you’re talking about.

“No, I didn’t know if Yeji would offer to work with you for an exhibition. Jisung only told me that he had shown Yeji your art, and I had faith in your abilities. I knew that after witnessing the extent of your talents, Yeji would have something good to offer you, career-wise.”

You can’t argue with that. The logic is sound, and the flowers are cohesively pretty. You continue to play with the petals, a small smile dancing on your lips.

The smile doesn’t escape Jeno’s attention, and he smiles too.

—

It starts to drizzle as soon as you reach the wedding place. Jeno is quick to procure a clear umbrella, holding it for both of you. He knows you wouldn’t want to get your clothes wet.

Jaemin is there too, one hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers, standing by the side. Donghyuck’s wedding is a loud, chaotic one, with many guests you don't recognise all talking with each other. Jaemin hovers at the vague edge of the crowd, as much of an introvert as Jeno, and you tug Jeno over.

“Hi, jagiya.” Jaemin envelopes you in a warm hug, and he smells like home.

Jeno opens his hands for a hug too, but Jaemin only laughs and swats his hand away. Jeno slings one hand over Jaemin’s shoulder, and you snatch his umbrella away, going off to find Donghyuck.

The two men stand side by side, Jaemin still holding the umbrella, watching you disappear into the hordes of people.

—

The rain gets heavier, and you try to occupy as little space as possible, not letting a single part of your body protrude from under the umbrella. Droplets of rain splash onto your shoes and your face, and you wipes them from your face with the back of your hand.

Jisung stands beside Donghyuck and Yeon-seok, with Chenle, Jaemin’s old roommate, and a couple of other men you can’t remember the names of. Donghyuck and Yeon-seok’s roommates from university, you think, because you remember seeing them at the reunion.

You congratulate the grooms, and move to stand next to Yeji and Jisung. The small circle are the only people that have gotten a chance to speak with Donghyuck and Yeon-seok, and by the looks of it, their conversation isn’t going to end anytime soon.

Yeji makes small talk with you, and you laugh about a few shared experiences, before you notice the crowd starting to disperse, and the officiator announces that the wedding is beginning.

You move back to where Jeno is, and he leaves Jaemin with his umbrella, ducking under your umbrella to join you.

The wedding is simple and sweet, and there are tears all around as the two bridegrooms say their vows.

“...to love and to cherish, until death does us part.” Jeno’s fingers suddenly falter, and the golden locket he’s been fidgeting with throughout the wedding slips through his fingers. He lunges to catch it, and you finally notice what he’s been doing with his hands.

Resting one hand on his left knee to calm him down, you nuzzle into his neck, and nudge his hand open with your index finger.

“What’re you holding?” you ask under your breath.

“Nothing.” You briefly register the officiator allowing Yeon-seok and Donghyuck to kiss, and you look up at them just in time.

“Open your hand,” you command.

Obediently, Jeno uncurls his fingers, and you take the locket from him. You fumble with the clasp, but it springs open, and there’s a picture inside. Squinting, you realise that it’s a picture of you and Jeno, taken when you weren’t paying attention. Your hand is shielding your eyes from the sun, and Jeno’s firm hand is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

Your grip on Jeno’s knee tightens.

“How long have you been carrying this around for?” You ask, voice slightly hoarse.

Jeno looks away. “Since we took the picture. It’s been, what, two years?”

You feel your throat seizing up, and you force yourself to take a few deep breaths. Jeno has been carrying the locket around for two years. Almost the same length of time that you’ve been dating for. He’s loved you enough for the whole span of that time to carry a picture of you around wherever he goes.

You can’t breathe. “You’ve been carrying this around for two years?”

Jeno shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, like a soldier going off to war,” he quips. Somehow, you’ve switched to Korean, but you don't quite register it. It just feels right, better, to speak in your native language.

It fits, the same way your body fits into the cracks of Jeno’s body, the way his arms wrap around you and fit into every nook and cranny of yours. Your scars line up against each other’s, and Jeno is the puzzle piece that makes you whole.

“So you love me.” It might seem strange, after all they’ve been through, to doubt it. But it hasn’t been long, and you hate to give yourself away, to love somebody else. Every day, you wonder if you’ve crossed the line from like to love, or if you’ve fallen out of like with each other.

“Yes.” You never knew one word could turn your world upside down. The rain has eased, but it feels like there’s water rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

Then, “Are you okay?”

You hear it from your other side, your left side, and you see Yeji there, concern in her eyes. You turn your attention back to the proceedings, and see Donghyuck taking the wedding bouquet from Yeon-seok, preparing to toss it in the air.

“Yes,” you say, determinedly. Jeno guides your hand to tilt the umbrella backwards, giving both of you a better view of the grooms, and the water continues to flow off the umbrella.

Neither of them makes a move to take it, leaving the more eager guests to rush towards Donghyuck, surrounding him. He turns his back towards them, Yeon-seok moderating the crowd, and tosses the bouquet into the air.

It arcs towards the middle of the crowd, and a lone carnation falls out. Jeno reflexively reaches out for it before it can fall on the soaked grass, and he tucks the yellow carnation behind your ear.

His face is right next to yours, his breathing fast and rapid, and you hear the pulsing of his heart when you place a hand on his chest.

Jeno leans his forehead on yours, the umbrella creating a bubble of silence and tranquility amidst the loud cheers and celebration outside of it. A tear rolls down his cheek, and he smiles, the tear caught on the upside of his upper lip.

You watch as he licks it away, and brush the pad of your thumb against the trail of the tear.

“Are you crying?” you ask softly.

“No,” Jeno says, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “It’s just the rain.”

You wrap your arm around his neck, nose bridge aligned with his, waiting quietly.

“I know you don’t want to get married now,” Jeno says. “But please, take this carnation as a promise that I will never let you have your heart broken.”

You have heard false promises fall from Jeno’s lips before. You’ve faced his broken promises, seen through his lies, accepted his empty praise. This time, however, it’s different. You know it in your heart, can hear the dogged beating of his heart, refusing to hurt you again.

You smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll take that promise.”

—

floriography

violet: a declaration to always be true

blue salvia / azure blue sage: harbours sentiments of missing and thinking of someone.

peppermint: warmth of feeling

lavender: purity, devotion, serenity, grace and calmness.

sunflower: adoration and loyalty, long life and lasting happiness.

chrysanthemum: longevity, fidelity, joy and optimism.

red camellia: you’re a flame in my heart.

galaxes: encouragement.

pink peonies: good luck, prosperity and success

orange tulips: joy, enthusiasm and excitement

heather: admiration and support

white roses: symbolises innocence and purity. used to congratulate people on career successes.

carnations: symbolise pride and love for someone in a supportive way. used to tailor bouquets to one’s favourite colour due to their ease of dyeing.

#nct #nct dream #k-labels #🪁 — my works #💐 — the language of flowers #jeno #nct fic #nct dream fic #jeno x reader #jeno x y/n #nct dream x reader

[yasu--blog]

ENHYPEN reaction to your group winning an award

Pairing: Idol!Enhypen x Idol!reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~Approx. 270

Disclaimer: None of the images used in this post belong to me. All credits go to their respective creators. If you are the creator and wish for proper credit or removal, please contact me. Your work is valued and acknowledged.

Author's Note: hope everyone's having a good day (•́ᴗ•̀)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

이희승 | HEESEUNG 

Heart pounding as the group is announced as winners.

Stupidly happy grin, thinking, "Damn, my girl did it!"

Lowkey cheers, trying to keep it subtle.

Glances around to ensure nobody catches on to his extra celebration.

Sly smile after the ceremony, a quick hug, and a quiet whisper, "You killed it out there, babe. So proud."

박종성 | JAY

Keeping it chill on the surface as your group bags the win.

Internally celebrating, thinking, "Damn, I love this girl."

Relaxed vibe outwardly, a smirk that says, "Yep, that's my person."

Strolls up with a subtle but proud grin post-ceremony.

Eyes give away the excitement and pride he feels for you.

심재윤 | JAKE

In shock and awe when the group wins.

Expression screams, "Did I really bag someone this amazing?"

Keeps it cool, stealing glances to hide his secret infatuation.

Sidles up with a cute grin post-ceremony, saying, "You never fail to amaze me, you know?"

박성훈 | SUNGHOON

Silent supporter with a proud yet composed smile.

Nods along, keeping it discreet but appreciating every moment.

Locked eyes on you, silently conveying, "You did it, love."

Walks up with calm demeanor, a gentle hug, and a subtle, "Congrats, babe. You were stunning, as always."

김선우 | SUNOO 

Hype machine on the verge of exploding with excitement.

Outwardly loud in applause, throwing in a little cheer.

Massive grin when you hit the stage, holding back a "That's my girl!" scream.

Casual swing by post-ceremony, low-key hug, and sneaky peck on the cheek while playing it cool.

양정원 | JUNGWON 

Beyond shocked when the group is announced as the winner.

Eyebrows scrunch up, jaw drops like, "Wait, what just happened?"

Internal thoughts: "Is she for real?"

Composed outwardly but surprised expression spills the beans on his impressed state.

Casually strolls up post-ceremony, sly nod, and a quiet congrats.

西村 力 | NI-KI

Low-key guy keeping it smooth when the group wins.

Internal victory dance, casual smirk outwardly.

Chill demeanor nodding like, "Yeah, that's my girl."

Strolls up post-ceremony with a laid-back fist bump or subtle smile, radiating quiet pride.

Copyright © yasu--blog - All Rights Reserved

Note: Please refrain from reposting my work. If you appreciate it and would like to share, kindly link directly to the original post. Thank you for respecting the effort and creativity put into this content.

@heelvsted @okwonyo @heesbaby @srjlvr @ensite @rikislady @rkvriki @hehehehehehehes-world @indigoez @ensite @alaezasmystery235 @princesswonyiee @tobiosbbyghorl @keiipopped @hayoonbyn @navy-wavy17

#enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen members #enhypen fake texts #jungwon x reader #lee heesung x reader #park sunghoon x reader #park jongseong x reader #jay x reader #sunoo x reader #sunghoon x reader #riki nishimura x reader #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #kim sunoo x reader #yang jungwon x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen #trending #viral

[f1daydreamers]

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 [𝐋𝐒𝟏𝟖] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

photo credits: Pinterest

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Fem!Reader

Summary: Asking the driver of the team you work for to attend a wedding with you as your fake date is possibly one of the dumbest ideas you’ve had ever.. but also one of the best.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of exes and annoying ones ugh, slight angst??, alcohol but it isn't heavy on the topic, let me know if I'm missing any!

Word Count: 2.3k (8 mins reading time avg)

…

You push the inner corners of your false lashes, whispering a curse word when the left one sprung back up again though you'd spent over a minute holding it down.

"Come on, play nice." You murmur, repeating the movement.

You slowly removed your finger, as if any mere force of air would make it lift again.

You really didn't have the time to mess with it, already keeping one eye on the clock.

"Hey, you nearly done in here?" Lance entered, giving you a single glance as you leaned in closer to the vanity mirror.

You eyed your appearance one final time to make sure your makeup was blended, even and smooth.

"Yep, just finishing up. You gonna get changed?" You fanned your face after spritzing your face with setting spray, then stood up from the stool and pushed it in.

With a nod, he sifted through his suitcase, the crease between his furrowed eyebrows distinctly visible despite his downward gaze.

"Are you okay?" You asked, taking a step closer.

You watched Lance effortlessly pick up his open suitcase and place it on the bed.

"Yeah, I just can't.. seem to find.. my watch." He said between pauses, and your eyes fell to the bedside table where his watch was clearly staring right back at you.

Without a hint of laughter, you brushed past him, capturing the timepiece between your fingers.

As he frantically searched for it, oblivious to what you were doing, you turned towards him.

"This watch?" You asked, innocently enough, a slight smile adorning your lips.

His eyes shifted to your hand where you extended his personal belonging to him, and he shook his head.

"Why is it that girls always know where everything is?" He rhetorically asked, and you shrugged as the corner of his mouth curved upwards into a grateful grin.

"Just one of our many talents." You responded.

"And the lack of ours," you chuckled as his fingers brushed yours to take the watch.

Lance's eyes fixate intently on your face and you wonder if you'd overlooked something, unblended contour or way overlined lips but he didn't look like he wanted to point something out, rather seemed.. taken aback?

His lips part slightly and you smile, blushing under his unwavering focus.

"Earth to Lance?" He stumbles in his speech, abruptly swallowing his words before tearing his eyes away from you.

"Sorry 'bout that." You ignore the wave of disappointment that washes over you and tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, before sliding past him again.

"I'll leave you to get changed," you said, pivoting to offer him a brief nod and smile before making your way out of the room. Once the door was shut behind you, you let out a sigh.

"Y/N, I've ironed it." You smile at your mum who appeared out of the empty room, which once belonged to your brother.

You thank her as she headed downstairs, and you lock the door behind you as you get changed into the outfit you'd packed. Carefully pushing your head through the hole of your top as to not ruin your makeup went fairly successfully.

Maybe it was a touch extravagant for an early evening outing, but you hadn't packed much since you also hadn't anticipated your brother's fiancé's insistence on getting everyone together before the weekend's chaos ensued.

You eventually went downstairs to gather with everyone else, encountering a mix of readiness. You found one who was eager to leave, one who still needed to pee, and one who couldn't find her other heel.

Lance idly fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater, tugging them up a bit. He had always been particular about the unpleasantness caused by the cuffs rubbing against his wrists.

As he entered the lounge, he stumbled slightly when your sister swiftly pushed past him in a fleeting attempt to run upstairs.

In the midst of her hurried movements, she shouted a few incoherent words of instruction to a hapless relative who happened to be occupying the bathroom at a time that was inconvenient for her.

Instead of blending into a group of unfamiliar relatives he had yet to be formally introduced to, Lance leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

His eyes roamed across the room, wondering what these people’s names could be, their background, their profession. He was merely amusing himself with a fictional concoction of reality.

You emerged from the midst of the group, your attention fixed on a cousin whom he had met previously. A bright smile on your lips, anticipation evident as you awaited their response.

In that moment, it felt as if time had slowed down.

Lance's face lit up with a smile as he observed your eyes growing wider in disbelief at something you were told but didn’t quite believe.

The smile lines from your lips to your nose became more pronounced as your grin stretched across your face.

Playfully, you leaned over and gave your cousin's arm a slap, causing your hair to cascade and partially obscure your laughing face, which was tilted downwards.

His gaze fell from your side profile to your body, fixating on the way your bodysuit, tucked into your leather pants, clung to your figure ever so snugly.

He knew if he were to touch you even once tonight, it would feel as though his hand was grazing your bare skin.

A thought that spurred on an erratic beat in his chest, a flutter in his fingers as he could only imagine it, but never truly feel it.

He brought the tip of his thumb up to his lips, perhaps to conceal the subtle upward twitch of his mouth's corners, deeply absorbed by.. well, you.

He really believed he was lucky, though this wasn’t real. This was a plan to fool your family and by Monday, it’d all be over.

"Lance right?" His eyes snapped to the approaching individual, meeting the man's hand in the middle, shaking it for a few seconds.

The F1 driver was slightly taller than him but not by much, his linen shirt and the sunglasses perched on his head didn't disguise the fact that they seemed similar in age.

"Yeah," Before he could ask any questions about him, he was quick to turn and point his chin towards you, still standing and conversing with your cousin.

"You're Y/N's boyfriend?" Lance gives a smile, nodding his head.

"That's me. I didn't catch your name?" He added rather quickly, before the opportunity to cut in again arose.

"Name's Thomas, but everyone calls me Tom." There was a hint of scrutiny in his eyes when Tom looked him over, something that was bound to make anyone feel uneasy.

Lance hardly knew the man and already felt like he wanted to conclude the conversation. Not because he was one to back down, but because he wasn't one to waste his breath.

...

You laughed as Daisy pointed accusingly at your brother, berating him for 'throwing her off' just as she was about to hit the winning putt in mini-golf.

He dismissed her rather effortlessly. Growing up, she was the most competitive one out of the three of you.

Lance seemed deep in his train of thought when you glanced at him, you leaned into the booth, the back of your head meeting his outstretched arm.

The contact drew him away from his reverie, and he met your gaze with a gentle expression.

"Hello stranger," You teased quietly.

"Stranger?" He questioned and you smiled, shrugging meekly.

"You haven't spoken much, you doing okay?" As he was about to answer, his eyes instinctively shifted from you to the man that was seated across the large booth, next to your brother.

Tom's eyes were trained on him, he'd been observing both of you since the evening had began.

"That um," He started and you watched him pick up his glass, take a sip from it then place it back down.

"That guy on the other side of the table," Lance's jaw ticked as he redirected his stare towards you again, diligently searching for the slightest hint of a change in your expression.

"White shirt, sunglasses." He sensed the urgency to comment on his appearance so you'd catch on, but he didn't know that you were already aware of who he was talking about.

He eyed you inquisitively, noticing your hand form into a fist on your lap.

"Old friend?" You peeled your gaze away from Lance to your lap, shaking your head.

You were wishing that he wouldn't even be mentioned tonight but since he'd made a reappearance, you realised you couldn't indefinitely confine your past to seclusion.

"Ex." You explained with a single word, practically feeling him tense then ease again besides you.

He retracted his arm from its previous position, no longer outstretched on the back of the booth.

You felt a pang of sadness in your chest; possibly from not letting Lance know, remembering he would be here tonight, or both.

"Small world." He commented, trying to think of what he could say next but really only one question springing to mind.

"Why is he here?" you grimaced, expressing your frustration.

You couldn't recall him ever having a particularly close relationship with any family member, making his presence tonight all the more irritating and confusing.

"I don't know." You breathed out, though being truthful.

"You never told me about him." Lance remarked, obviously referring to the bore speech you'd given him as preparation on most of the people from your hometown that he'd probably get acquainted with.

You'd failed to mention any of your exes, but it didn't cross his mind that you'd even have any exes whom of which were still close, enough to show up on a night out that was rather exclusive.

You gave him a pointed look, defenceless in this conversation. "He wasn't supposed to be here."

“Well, he is.” You rolled your eyes, terribly grateful for his rather obvious input.

He sensed that you'd rather drop the topic than continue talking about it so with a lopsided smile, he picked up his glass.

Lance stood up and glanced at your nearly empty glass, offering, "I'm going to get another drink. Do you want one?"

You respond with a subdued half-shrug, muttering a word of surety under your breath. Although you spoke softly, he managed to hear you.

He collected both glasses, left the booth and went over to the bar. As soon as your 'date' was out of sight, you allowed your gaze to wander around the room.

You can sense Tom's penetrating stare, but choose to ignore it, taking out your phone from your bag and navigating through various apps.

When Lance still hadn't returned after a few minutes of waiting, you decided to let him return and place the drinks down while you went to the bathroom to pee and touch up your makeup, not at the same time obviously.

As you exited the bathroom, hastily returning your pressed powder and lipstick to your purse, you were taken aback when you nearly collided with someone directly in front of you.

Prepared to apologise, you glanced up and locked eyes with the individual in question.

Letting out a sigh, you instinctively took a step back, creating a few feet of distance between yourselves.

"Y/N!" Tom bursted out, as if he was utterly surprised to see you despite being seated across the booth from you for a little over two hours now.

You blink back at him, hoping the ground would swallow you whole so this conversation wouldn't need to happen.

"Tom." You don't match his excitement in the slightest, on purpose.

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, desperately searching for any potential means of escape.

Your ex opens his arms, hoping for an embrace when you take another step back, holding out your hand.

"No. Look, we're not friends. I don't want to see you or even talk to you right now." You shut him down rather bluntly and he scoffs, scrutinising you with every speck of colour in his eyes.

"Oh come on, lighten up. I'm just being friendly." He replies, as if it was a valid excuse for his nonchalant behaviour.

You roll your eyes, ready to shoot back when Lance steps in between you both.

Your shoulders slump, feeling the tension bubbling in your body come to a slow decline.

You reach for his arm and he allows you to snake your wrist around his bicep. Tom smiles, rather forcefully.

"What's going on?" Lance asks.

"Friendly conversation." He states, deeming the F1 driver's presence an unneeded one with his words alone.

"Mm-hmm." You squeeze his arm, a poor attempt to throw a hint that you just wanted to be taken away from this conversation.

Lance nodded his head towards the man opposite you and remarked, "come to think of it, I've heard a lot about you, Tom."

His words caught your attention and you squeezed his arm again, a tad more firmly this time.

“Oh, really?” Tom lifts his eyebrows, shooting you a smirk.

"No," Lance replied in a flat tone, devoid of any enthusiasm.

Tom blinked, clearly a little shocked at his response. Lance pays him no further attention and rests his hand over yours, offering you a smile. "Care for a drink?"

"Please." His smile doesn't falter as he looks away from you and back up at the man who was now carrying a hostile look instead of a confused one.

"I'll see you 'round, Thomas." Lance says, pulling you away and allowing you to follow him back to the booth.

You slid back into your seat and scooted over to make space for the F1 driver. As he settled in, he casually outstretched his arm once again, placing it on the back of the booth and allowing it to drape over your far shoulder.

You leaned into his side, relieved he was playing his part perfectly.

...

Part 4

Masterlist

Comment if you want to be tagged in the next part :)

Taglist: @tororossoseb-blog @hiphopdancer101universe @hc-dutch @love4lando @chonkybonky @angstyeighteen @natasharomanoffisbaebby @little-angel-07 @voidskywxlker @flowerchild-96 @vildetry06 @sharllec @aundercover @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @spicyclover @mloyer @alesainz @e-lisa-bettan @hockey-racing-fubol @cinnamonroll2003 @honeyric3 @mentallyunstablebish @mcmuppet @xscorpioxmoon @ferrariloverr @rivivie @starkeyellow @vanillascreams

#lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll fic #lance stroll oneshot #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula one fluff #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one oneshot #formula one x you #formula one x oc #formula one x y/n #formula 1

[rpreaperperson]

Hi there!!

I don't know if it me or to everyone else when it come to Claw the Neko. I literally found it overwhelming adorable and funny and I just LOVE to read more!! That and the Mom series.....

I may have an idea for Claw.... What if during the downtime with the 141 + Alejandro and Rudy and Neko want to have a cuddle in both cat and human forms depending on who she hangout with...

Hope you enjoyed the new year Nya~~

Sounds..like...a....

NOICE idea consider this is a holiday day! thank you @sliverwolf20 for the suggestion

This one will gonna be a Bonus Chapter 2

Masterlist

Off of Duty

Once upon a time....in a base where a certain cat Hybrid lazying around her room playing on her console, after getting bored of it she munched her snack while scrolling into her phone snickering when she found a funny meme or funny video

Then she take a nap....drifting into her sweet dreamland Yep...this is how she spends her day off

Suddenly her door slammed open by a certain beardy Captain, frown plastered against his face when he saw her napping on her sofa

With her cat form

Price let out an exaggerated sigh, the moment 141 got an off day the Hybrid spent her time in her room shutting herself there, while others went to spend their time with their families (Mostly Soap, and Gaz, Ghost still hanging around the base but he likes to went off somewhere)

Approaching the hybrid that was still in her dreamland, he shook her small fury body while calling out her code name

Instead of waking up she just stretches her body while purring

'Bloody hell...if she always like this in her day off...' Price glances at the pile of her snacks on the desk

"You'll gain weight if you keep doing this love..." mutter Price, then Claw's eyes snapped open jumping to Price while meowing in complaint, swiftly Price catch her small furry body with his hand

"Nyanyanyanyanaya!!" she flaunted her paws at his face

" now you awake when I say you'll gain weight huh? It's the truth love...it may be a day off but you can't spend your time lazying around like this! You haven't even left your room in days!" he rant at Claw

"Nyauuw...." her ears and tails flopped down as she glanced at her photo with 141 on her desk, narrowing his eyebrow Price followed where Claw looking at..

Then he realized..

"You miss 'em?"

Claw nodded, she even couldn’t contact Professor cause of some new experiment she was working on right now

“Oh Lovie..you know they wanted to spend their time with families too no?” Price cuddling her into his warm chest walked onto her soft sofa and sat there, caressing her soft head with his hand she licked his jaw he chuckled as he kissing her furry head

She purred even louder rubbing her head into his mutton chops, she really loved the prickles sensations

“Guess I’ll have some nap too...curse those boys..and their reports” he grunted taking off his shoes, gently Prices lay his body on Claw's sofa with Claw on his chest

“Ahh...that Professor of yours really spoil you huh? This is some good sofa” he grunted adjusting his position

“nyauww~”

“wonder where did she find this sofa..” Price murmur

“Mrrauw?” she chirps her little head looking up at him, tilting her head

“Nahh.. it's okay I’ll just ask her about it...” Price caressed her soft furry body shutting his eyes as he felt Claw purring vibrating his chest

“how do you manage to tend your tails this smooth?”

“Mrrep mrrep” her tails swirling in mischief, a Cheshire cat smirk planted on her lips

“Ahh..a secret eh..? fine by me” Slowly hearing Claw purring Price lulled into a dreamland

.

Ghost who just came back from the store bought something for Claw, and got a notification from Alejandro that he and Rudy will come to their base to spend their day off with them ...but most likely to meet Claw..

When he reach the base

“Hey there L.T!”

“Ghost”

Greet both Soap and Gaz waving at him still in their civilian clothes, bringing their bag

“thought you both on the leave?”ask Ghost cocking his eyebrows confused

“got a mail from Alejandro, he want to visit here yeah?” claim Soap

“Mmhm...gotta go bought something for Claw” he nonchalantly noded

“Ahh..right I bought ‘er something too” Soap takes out a Scotland souvenir from his bag, together they walk into her room

“How is she? Last time I saw she was sulking in her room when we departed” asked Gaz

“She still shut in her room, missed both of you” explained Ghost, they saw her door open wide Ghost slightly raised his eyebrows

“Bonnie!~ got somethin’ for – whoa..” Soap rushed into her room but he snap his mouth shut...

A warm fuzzy sight, both Claw and Price cuddling on Claw sofa

“gotta take a picture of this” amused Gaz sneakily taking his phone and taking a photo, silently scanning around her room gushing when he found the latest console in her room

“Let ‘em rest..both deserve it”claim Ghost

“Especially Cap..” Gaz put his small gift for Claw on her desk joined by Ghost and Soap, taking Claw's blanket from her bed Gaz covered both of them with the blanket scratching her little furry head with his finger

She making biscuits on Price's chest, and her purr became louder both Gaz and Soap were awed at her Ghost smiled behind his mask

“We’ll wake ‘em both when the Vaqueros come” claims Ghost then he walks out from Claw's room (not before he sneakily snaps a picture of Claw sleeping)

“Sleep tight Bonnie~” coo Soap

.

Meanwhile inside a pick up, as usual Rudy driving the pick up while Alejandro sat beside him

Then he got a notification from Gaz he send him a picture

“..? GASP!” his cheeks flushed red

“Whats wrong Ale?”

“Ay dios mio...I want to replace Price place”

“say what now?”

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #john price #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish #john mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro x reader #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #task force 141 x reader #neko reader #claw

[7-wonders]

It's Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus!

Summary: It's Halloweekend, and you've got a couple of parties to attend! Morpheus, who missed out on the development of Halloween into the holiday it is today, is very curious about what your plans are.

Word count: 1.8k

And now, a note from the author: Ahhh Claire actually managed to write something! I loved coming up with and writing this; I was giggling the entire time. As always, if you enjoyed, likes, comments, and reblogs (but especially the last two!) make my world go round. If you didn't like it, also let me know! I'm always down to hear constructive feedback/criticism—it's how we become better writers.

Though reader is wearing a skirt, the gender of reader is not specified! If you're non-binary or a guy and you wouldn't mind dressing up in a skirt for a group costume, I hope you enjoy this fic too!

It’s not often that Dream of the Endless visits you in your realm, instead of vice versa. While he had met you in the Waking, he had never been entirely comfortable there. That feeling, that wrongness, only increased tenfold after his imprisonment at the hands of Roderick Burgess. No, Morpheus is not overly fond of the Waking.

Tonight, however, he’s here, and you have a pretty good inkling as to why. 

Though Morpheus would never admit it, hearing you talk helps to calm him down when he’s feeling stressed (another thing he would never admit to: stress). After a frustrating day of holding court—one of his least favorite things to do, but one that was integral to the functioning of his realm—you decided that telling him about your plans for the week would be a bland enough topic where he would not have to actually listen to your words, but simply your voice. Your plan seemed to be working; you could feel his body relaxing in your arms, and you had never been more relieved to hear the absentminded hums of someone who was only half-listening to a conversation.

At some point, you mentioned that you were excited about the Halloween parties that you would be attending. That got his attention, drawing him out of the reverie that your voice and your fingers carding through his hair had lulled him into. He shifted in your hold, his black pools of stars looking up at you curiously.

“All Hallows’ Eve is not for another week though, yes?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s during the week this year, which means everybody celebrates the weekend before.”

“Why not celebrate on the day itself? Traditionally, Samhain is a very important holiday.”

Now the miscommunication made sense in your mind. It was only natural that he still thought of the holiday as what it was before 1916. “Oh! Halloween has evolved a lot, especially in the past hundred years. It doesn’t really resemble the Samhain of old.”

He still looks a little confused but nods. “How interesting. So you will also be participating in these…festivities early?”

“Festivities” was a good way to put it, and you decided to just leave it at that. How the hell else were you supposed to explain to your eons-old, all-powerful boyfriend that the Halloween of today is about wearing a fun/sexy costume, doing spooky activities like haunted houses or watching scary movies, and partying?

“Yep!” you said. “I have plans with friends; we’re going to wear our costumes and go celebrate with others.”

“What will your costume be?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. I have a couple of different ones, so I’ll probably decide the day of.”

That interest in modern Halloween, specifically how you celebrate Halloween, is why you’re not really all that surprised when you hear him call your name from the other side of the bathroom door while you’re taking a shower.

“In here, my love!” You just barely have to raise your voice, knowing that he’ll still hear you above the sound of water raining down. The bathroom door opens, and you stick your head out of the shower curtain. You very happily accept the kiss that he offers you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice, deep and as smooth as dark chocolate, rumbles through your ears in a way that you’ll never tire of. It’s impossible to resist giving him one more kiss (can you be blamed?), so you give in to the temptation.

“Give me five minutes and then I’ll be done, okay?”

Though it’s very reluctant, he does part from you. It takes you a little less than that to finish with your shower, and you open the door again so that you can at least be in the same space as Morpheus while you hurriedly put some makeup on (thankfully your costume doesn’t require anything drastic beyond what you normally wear). He’s sitting patiently on your bed, eyes already trained on you as you move through your getting-ready routine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “You almost never visit me in the Waking.” 

You’re teasing him, since, as previously mentioned, you know exactly why he’s here. Naturally, Morpheus doesn’t catch on. “I wished to see you off before your Hallowe’en celebration.”

“That’s sweet of you!” To the bedroom you go, where your costume sits waiting atop your dresser. “I’m just about ready to go, I only need to finish putting my costume on.” 

Morpheus’s face grows flushed at the easy compliment you give him (you don’t think he’s ever been called ‘sweet’) and you laugh quietly before disappearing back through the bathroom with costume in tow.

A couple of months ago, two of your friends decided that being the Powerpuff Girls was the move for this Halloween and roped you into the idea. One of your friends, a natural blonde, claimed Bubbles before the idea could even fully be discussed. Your other friend was very excited to be a bearded Blossom and wear a giant bow on his head. This left Buttercup for you to dress up as, not that you were complaining.

Now, you’re sliding into a green crop top and a matching green skirt, this piece being made out of a shiny material. All three of your skirts are the same fabric (and definitely shorter than what’s considered decent), with the shirts being dealer’s choice. You finish your outfit off with black tights and a black headband—Bubbles is also wearing black tights, while Blossom will be sporting black knee-highs. All in all, it’s a pretty simple costume, but sometimes, that’s what the best costumes are.

You emerge from the bathroom once more and do a little twirl for Morpheus, whose eyes immediately light up. “This is very much a pop culture reference, so I’m not expecting you to understand the costume. Still, I think it turned out pretty good!”

Morpheus is not a man—the anthropomorphic personification of the collective unconscious, the Lord of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, simply chooses this as his favored form. Still, he is a man-shaped being, and like all man-shaped beings, he goes a little wild for the object of his affection in a short skirt.

“You will be wearing this in public?” he asks, standing up and approaching you.

Morpheus has lived for as long as beings have been able to dream. He quite literally lived through the Beginning when Adam and Eve didn’t know what clothes were, as well as a number of empires for whom clothing was merely a suggestion. The affront he’s showing at the clothes you’re wearing must be some sort of code for “this is my partner wearing something I consider sexy and I’m feeling possessive about other people seeing them.” That he looks at you as though you’re wearing the barest scraps of clothing and not dressing up as a cartoon superhero has you feeling mighty powerful.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on a little bit.

“This is tame compared to what a lot of other people wear,” you inform him.

Morpheus does not look as though he’s listening. No, he’s focused on your body rather than your words. One hand rests on your waist to pull you closer to him, and the other hand comes to rest on your upper thigh where the skirt ends. He rubs the skirt between his thumb and index finger as though he’s testing the fabric. 

“Am I correct in assuming that costumes are no longer worn to disguise the wearer from errant spirits?”

“Yes, you’re correct.” Right now though, explaining the traditions of Halloween is not important to you. You need some validation, and stat. “But do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” you say smugly, smacking his hand as he tries to slip it higher under your skirt. “Not tonight. I have to meet up with the gang soon!”

“Might I make a suggestion?” 

You nod. No matter how outlandish the suggestion, you’d listen to him make it, and you’d probably take it into strong consideration.

Morpheus places a delicate kiss on your jaw before he trails his lips to your ear. “Forget about your friends and stay with me for the evening,” he whispers seductively.

Oh, but that is tempting. You can already imagine the way in which Morpheus would remove your costume, the feeling of his hands on your body as he makes you forget about anything outside of you and him and the pleasure you bring each other. From the darkened look he gives you, he’s already picked up on these daydreams, and he’s in total agreement of that order of events. 

Unfortunately, your brain, that traitorous organ, reminds you of why you shouldn’t be absconding to the Dreaming with your lover.

You sigh in frustration at the logic and lean your forehead against his. “I would, but I’ve had these plans for a couple of weeks now, and I really am looking forward to them.”

Though it very obviously pains Morpheus to say it, he does agree. “Yes, I suppose it would be…rude to abandon them.”

“I should probably go,” you say begrudgingly, pulling away from him and focusing intently on gathering what you’ll need so that you don’t give in to your desire.

Morpheus watches as you whirl around the room, muttering the name of each item as you grab them. Your phone is annoyingly elusive, and you think you’ll just have to go without it until it’s dangled in front of you by your Dreamlord. Gratefully, you take it from him.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly. That’s the last of your belongings, but you feel like you can stall just a bit longer. He’s heard about your plans, but you haven’t heard of his. “What will you do while I’m gone?”

“Wait for you to return to my embrace once more,” he teases.

“Please try to do something instead of moping the whole time.”

“I do not mope!”

You give him a look, one that says you see right through this charade. “Yes. You do. I’m sure there’s a new book you’ll want to read. Maybe ask Lucienne what she’s been working on, or start creating a new nightmare?”

“Are you not going to be late?” Morpheus deflects. It makes you laugh, but he is right, so you do a once-over of your room to make sure you’re not missing anything and kiss him briefly.

“Bye. I love you.”

“I love you as well, my starlight. You remember how to call for me should you run into trouble?” Of course you do: write down his name and speak it. It’s cute of him to act like he won’t try to have Matthew follow you, though.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. “Yes, I remember. I’ll be fine, okay?”

He nods, satisfied. “I shall see you later, then.”

You’re able to sneak in one more kiss before he’s off and you’re heading to your front door, already counting down the hours until your night of partying is over. Who knew dressing up like a Powerpuff Girl could get someone so hot and heavy?

If Morpheus thinks that’s attractive, just wait until he sees the angel costume you’re wearing tomorrow.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman

[greyskyflowers]

Obsessed with the idea that Nami and Zoro occasionally have a girls night.

Another post based on Nami and Zoro being chaotic and loving bffs? Yep

💙

It all started out as a way to get Zoro to bathe regularly. They're both gay as hell, and the whole crew all live on top of each other, so stripping in front of each other is nothing new or special.

Then it shifted into sneaky attempts to get the good booze and drive Sanji nuts when they'd disappear together.

Then it became a thing.

Nami goes all out on their bath nights.

Zoro originally fought against the whole idea, very similar to how a cat would react to being given a bath, but he has since accepted it.

He's even made his peace with wearing the towel around his head, though he insists on calling it a towel hat, because Nami says it's part of the experience.

She brings out her favorite towels, so soft and fluffy that her fingers leave indents as she holds them.

A little trinket box is also retrieved and picked through. Beautiful, colored glass bottles, some thin and tall while others were short and round, all full of oils that cast faded watercolor silhouettes on the walls from the low lighting.

Little bars of soap carefully carved into flowers, shells, and fish are placed near the bath. Some of the finer details already smoothed away from previous use.

The lotions are pushed off to the side until later, looking refreshingly cool and milky in thick jars.

There are a few candles lit and placed around the room. The flickering flames sway on the ceiling and walls like full hips.

The bubbles are edged in rainbow where they catch the light, floating off the water and around the room before disappearing in a pop.

Bath night means Sanji is more willing to part with the good alcohol he normally keeps tucked away. He always gives in to Nami, providing her several bottles and a few spotless wine glasses.

The glass looks elegant in Nami's hand, surrounded by the bubbles and low lighting. It looks breakable in Zoro's, small and misplaced when held by hands covered in scars and calluses.

Sanji also prepares a light snack, usually fruits of multiple colors all arranged in pretty patterns.

He hasn't quite made his peace with this whole situation yet but he's working on it. Everyone else just went with it, no futher questions asked beyond Luffy whining that they got extra snacks.

He doesn't know if he's jealous of Zoro... or Nami.

As they gathered more of a crew and went on more adventures, sometimes Robin would join as well.

She's cuts a haunting, beautiful presence in the low lighting. Small smiles lost behind bubbles and her long legs stretched out to knock ankles with them affectionately.

Sometimes the shadows seems more welcoming, and the lines they cast are less harsh.

Sometimes, fingers sticky from fruit open easier to let go of doubts and worries, and mouths stained with something dark and too sweet will speak with less restraint.

Sometimes when they all sit there in the soft shadows and warm water, fruit and alcohol staining their mouths and loosening their words...

Sometimes they all talk about different shades of blue.

#one piece #straw hat pirates #zoro #nami #nico robin #mugiwara crew #hints of/implied: #namivivi #frobin #zosan #setting sail with greyskyflowers