#exciting drabble

[yuuchama]

The easiest way to find Sebek is to walk around the Night Raven campus, going "where's my Sebek?"

It elicits odd stares and plenty of snickers from the other students, but it gets the job done. You'll know when he's nearby. After repeating this phrase enough times and in multiple places around campus, you'll hear a familiar thundering cry.

"I am not your Sebek!"

The shout is eventually followed by the man himself. You can tell what direction he's in by the heavy stomps, thudding against the ground almost as loud as his voice. His frown is as sharp as his furrowed brows. The slight tinge of embarrassment colors his face.

"Human! How dare you..."

The familiar face makes you smile with joy. "There you are! There's my Sebek."

He falters. It's clear he has so much to say, but can't find the right words to get out first. They pile up in his mouth while he stammers. You fear you may have traumatized him until the verbal barrage bursts out like a dam.

"How dare you! You know I serve none other than the great heir to Briar Valley. To even imply that I am yours? A mere human's? Inconceivable! Your absurdity knows no bounds!"

He sounds as energetic as ever. You decide to interrupt the angry monologue before he really gets going.

"Sebek, I wanted to know if we're still having lunch together."

"To insult the very essence of my being! As if you..."

It takes a hot second for your inquiry to reach his ears, but when he catches it, the rambling drifts off. He grows oddly quiet. He balls his hands into fists and unclenches them several times in quick succession, testing the limits of his uniform gloves. This would already have delved into a physical fight if you were any other student.

Despite your inane actions, you're practically harmless. Any great guard should easily be able to ignore petty taunts. It's best to consider this a test. Sebek clears his throat.

"Of course we are. You didn't have to come find me just for that. I always keep my word." The redness of his ear tips peeking out from under his hair remind you of a Christmas tree.

"Great! Can't wait."

You stick out your hand for a parting high five. Sebek subverts expectations by grabbing your palm. His gloves are warm and a little sweaty after rushing to find you, and his grip is anything but soft in a boyish display of dominance.

"Do not do this again," he says. He's stern, but after that warning his voice drops to a normal level and he sounds almost gentle. "Just... text me, like a normal person. You have my number."

[wttcsms]

tobio knows that he loves you, that he's devoted to you, that he'd do anything for you — you know this. but what you don't know, not yet, is that he realizes, only three months into dating, that he's going to marry you. growing up, after his grandfather passed and miwa got too busy to attend his games, no one showed up for him to watch him play. even well into adulthood, there's no family present in the friends & family section all professional athletes are assigned. you two are long-distance for the time being, and you tell him, teary-eyed, that your flight got canceled at the last minute and you can't show up to his game. he walks into the stadium frowning, upset and not speaking to anyone during his warm-ups. his other teammates' families are entering, and he can see them waving at their loved ones. he's focused on himself until he hears a voice shouting from above:

"play well, tobio!!!" you're wearing his jersey, holding up a poster of support, the only one in his otherwise empty friends & family section.

he can't stop the smile from stretching across his face, and play well he does.

it turns out, after your original flight got canceled, you managed to find a last-minute flight leaving in less than two hours after your disappointing phone call with him. you rushed to the airport, had to have two shitty layovers, and barely got any sleep, but you showed up. he tells you, you didn't have to do all of that. and his heart nearly explodes when you just squeeze his hand and give a gentle hum before telling him, yeah, but i wanted to.

[deerspherestudios]

Hm, I wonder who this could be,,,

[gublernatural]

spencer’s hand traced up her side, pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. her hands were resting comfortably against his chest, basking in the firmness of his peck muscles. spencer’s thigh were pressed against, searching for friction anywhere he could find it. spencer is unsure of where his body ends and hers begins, too entranced by the feeling of her lips firmly against his.

it was messy; a rushed, spitty, spur of the moment make-out session upon spencer’s return from an absolutely brutal case, that had lasted over a week. to say she was desperate for him was an understatement. she’d been literally dreaming of his return since the day he begrudgingly pulled himself from the warmth of her comforter. she remembered watching him search for the dress pants he’d arrived in, needing something to wear until he could get to his “go-bag”, which he’d left at the office in a rush to make it to her place in time for their friday night movie night.

spencer slid his right hand to the back of her, attempting to press her even closer. as his hand settled just underneath her jawline, spencer pulled himself away, just for a brief second to mutter: “jesus, honey,” in exasperation. his lips were back on hers before she even really comprehended what he’d say. as his expression clicked in her brain, she jerked away, suddenly nervous that she was doing something wrong.

with blown pupils and a beautiful confused face, she looked up at him, “did i do something wrong?”. if spencer wasn’t ridiculously hard in his slacks, he probably would’ve coaxed over to the couch, sat her down and discussed the worry that was apparent on her face. “no, baby,” he cooed, stealing a quick peck from her. could you blame him? “your heart is just beating so fast,” he clarified as he traced his thumb over his jawline, emphasizing his palm that was pressed against her pulse point.

without hesitation, and a bit rushed, she spoke, “oh, i’m just excited,”. her lips were against him before his cheeks could redden at the idea that she was so excited to be kissing him that her heart rate was significantly increased. he smiled into this kiss, slowing down just a tad. he was excited too. and he was excited to show her just how much.

[zbis]

sung hanbin and non-sexual dominance

☆.｡.:* buckling in your seatbelt: hanbin mentions that he has something planned. he doesn't tell you exactly what it is or where you're going but you're excited nonetheless. dragging him over to the car, you're eagerly pulling him along to get it started. he opens the passenger door for you and you hop in. when he gets in he settles in, buckling up, first and foremost. in all your hurry you might forget the most important thing so he looks over at you. he tsks when he notices it but he has a smile on his face. "your seatbelt~," he practically singsongs as he leans over. "oh-" you're about to do it yourself but he gives you a look. "don't worry," he reaches over to pull the seatbelt down across your chest and towards your hip. it clicks in place and he smiles at you.

☆.｡.:* adjusting your appearance: perhaps you just woke up and your hair is strewn all about. hanbin laughs seeing you drag yourself towards him, looking for warmth. "aw come here," he beckons you over. he looks over your pouty, still puffy & sleepy face and lifts your chin so that you are now looking at him. first, he runs his fingers gently and delicately across your lips and then chuckles as he suddenly focuses on fixing your hair. "still sleepy?" you nod as he chuckles again. "lets go back to bed."

☆.｡.:* telling you "no": it's honestly hard for hanbin to not give into your every demand. how could he possibly say no to a face like yours! you deserve the world and then some! however sometimes he really has to put his foot down. he's not a pushover by any means but sometimes you forget he can't do everything. when you're acting like a brat he might have to put you in your place. he gives a look that you narrow your eyes at. "i said no," he would first say with an irritated smile. if you persist, his smile drops and he gets serious. "y/n no" usually that works but if it doesn't he'll have to deal with you in other ways.

[skumhuu]

✨🦈🔱 MERMAY BINGO 2025 🔱🦈✨

Happy Mermay! 🥰 As usual 5 in a row equals a bingo and you can do any theme/prompt for the free space in the middle for an automatic win! This mermay I will be donating 2 dollars for every free space win, and 5 dollars for every completed bingo to charity!

Donations will be going to Monterey Bay Aquarium 🦈 They do so much to help our oceans, you can get more information about what they do under ‘Act for the ocean’ here!

If you don’t have the energy to make anything (absolutely fine!!) I definitely recommend donating yourself at this link if you have the money!

[ftmsimonriley]

soap picks up fishing while on mandatory leave, allowed to borrow price's boat to take it out on the coast, never far enough to catch anything more than rockfish and other coastal dwellers, most of which he releases back anyway. he spends his days out there, drinking and letting the hours tick by as he waits for a bite.

one day, the water's calm and he doesn't have a care in the world. a little past tipsy, he's watching some gulls fly past when suddenly the line catches. the speed of the boat doesn't make up for the speed at which the reel rapidly unravels as whatever is at the other end takes off. he's left to scramble for the rod, and it's a fight to reel it back.

about halfway back, the line goes slack.

he's left feeling a little disappointed as he winds it the rest of the way, expecting nothing at the other end. but what he reels up is half of a catshark. obviously something else was trying to catch it, too.

when he looks up from the mangled corpse, he's startled to find something in the water staring back.

a human face, with just eyes out of the water, deep brown with seemingly no pupils, which he chalks up to the trick of the light reflecting off the water. what skin he can see is pale and freckled, and the short hair flattened to the person's head is deepened to a dark brown from how wet it is.

he knows mers exist. he never thought he'd meet one, much less almost accidentally catch it.

"this yers?" he calls out, undeterred by the lack of a response. only quiet staring, the mer never letting the waves push it closer to his boat. he's quick to pull the catshark off his hook, less careful than he'd be with a live one. with an underhand toss, it hits the water with a quiet splash before sinking.

the mer is diving after it in a split second, and soap assumes that's all he'll see of it.

he stays out for a bit longer after that, intent on catching something that's not already half eaten. but the mer seems to have scared off all the fish, and he's considering accepting that today wouldn't be his day before something heavy is landing on his deck.

there, is a whole northern pike, freshly killed. when he looks over the side of the boat, there in the water is those same two brown eyes.

"dinners on you, is it?" he's a bit in shock, not only with meeting a mer but having it seemingly hunt for him. but unless its somehow messed with the pike before throwing it on board, soap isn't going to question his intentions beyond interpreting this as some form of gratitude for giving him the rest of the catshark.

and after that, he sees the mer every day he's out on the water.

always keeping his distance, always just his eyes above the surface. he starts to call him ghost, what with his ability to disappear and reappear so easily, and his eerie silence. ("like a wee ghost swimming around my boat.")

he suspects ghost is also, intentionally or not, scaring away all the fish. but at this point, he's casting as an excuse. why fish when he has a mer to talk to (or to be apt, talk at, as ghost never speaks) all day?

[kjhmyg]

blooming

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader trope: sunshine oc x grumpy jk au: florist!oc x tattoo artist!jk wc: 1k

a drabble request from anon for sunshine protector jk. honestly was doubting the capability of writing jk as a grump but anon, i hope i did it justice and i hope you like it! <3

the tiny bells attached to the entrance chimes as you enter the shop, the smell of fresh flowers greeting you so kindly in the morning. the hour leading up to opening is one of your favourite parts of the day. your flowers are your babies; you sing to them, you change their water, place them gently back into their little spaces, assemble new bouquets to put up for sale, then choose which ones go up front on the daily display.

upstairs, you hear the clinking and clanking of your neighbours. the tattoo parlour above starts a little later than your flower shop, usually seeing their first customer around noon. an unlikely combination, one which leaves most of their clients confused as they step inside, till you point out the steps to the right of your shop which leads up to the parlour. 

but you don’t complain. it brings a nice mix to your client pool. besides, your other favourite part of the day is getting to see your favourite tattoo artist. 

“ahem⎼”

you turn on your heel, snapping out of your thoughts. putting on your best service voice, you were ready to greet a customer, only to find the next best thing. “oh,” your face softens, “good morning jungkook.” 

“morning.” he leans against your counter and nods to the spread of flowers laid out on the long table behind you. “are those flowers that interesting? didn’t even hear me come through the doors, did you?”

“sorry,” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but to mirror it. “i was looking through this customer’s request. it’s a little odd.” 

“why?” 

“because see,” you bring the request ticket over from the table and lean over the counter so he can see it, “these flowers don’t go well together at all. and i know, i know, it’s a custom order. but as a florist, i should be able to tell them if i think it’s not a good combination right? i mean the colours are all over the place. look, you can’t have too many bold colours together, it’ll take away the beauty from each flower. plus it'll look so messy. but at the same time it’s their choice and they are paying for it so i don’t know.” 

jungkook looks at you with a blank expression. his arms are crossed on the counter, and his freshly washed hair rests nicely on his shoulders, curved at the ends. 

“what?” you ask him, shrugging like you didn’t just spit out an entire rant contemplating someone’s custom order.

“is it really that deep?” 

you give him an exasperated look. of course he wouldn’t get it.

he raises a brow, then smirks at your silence. you’re never quiet. not for long anyways. for a moment he wonders if he's hurt your feelings. he tends to do that sometimes. “i’m sure you’ll figure it out. besides, bold colours can look good together.” 

“but not always.” you drum your fingers on the counter, pursing your lips in thought. 

jungkook keeps staring. till your eyes flutter back to him, and you lock eyes for far too long and your heart starts racing. he blinks away first. dropping his bag and leaving his helmet on your counter, he walks across your shop and takes a look around before plucking out four flowers. two yellow flowers and two black ones. 

“hey!” you protest, “those are expensive!” 

jungkook ignores your nagging. he places them on the counter top and pairs them up, one yellow daisy with one black hellebore. then he starts intertwining their stems, creating a tiny knot at the bottom for each pair. the yellow and black flowers sit nicely next to the other. “see? they look good together, don’t they?” 

he reaches over and places one of them into the front pocket of your apron. the other, he slides across the counter in front of you. 

“or maybe not,” he shrugs, “you’re the florist here.” 

“execution could be better,” you giggle, admiring the flowers in your palm, “but it’s cute. maybe you should rethink your career. come and work with me instead!” 

jungkook lingers just to watch the way your eyes twinkle as you twirl the flowers between your fingers. all he did was tie two flowers together, yet you act like a kid with a new toy. and when you look up at him again and give him the widest grin, he decides it’s time to go (else he’d spend the entire day down here). 

he starts collecting his belongings, swinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his headgear. “oh,” he says, remembering, “this is for you.” 

he’d placed the cup carrier aside earlier while talking to you. jungkook checks the order plastered on the side of the cup before placing it in front of you. 

“wait but,” you start, “i don’t drink cof⎼”

“it’s earl grey.” 

your smile drops momentarily out of surprise. you had mentioned a while ago how you couldn’t stand the taste of coffee. 

“later, flower girl.” jungkook makes a turn for the steps. 

after the first few steps, he pauses when he feels something tugging on his arm. he turns to find you standing there, with the flower he’d made earlier in your hand. getting on your tiptoes, you tuck his hair back and gently place the daisy and hellbore combination behind his ear. 

“aw, you look pretty!” his brows furrow and you know he’s probably going to remove it as soon as he makes it up the steps but you don’t care. you wrap around him briefly before letting go. “thank you.” 

before he can say anything else, the bell chimes and you welcome your first customer of the day. jungkook walks up the steps with a roll of his eyes, listening to how excited you get as you go through your collection of flowers. how you could be so chirpy at this hour, he’ll never understand.

upstairs, he drops his stuff in his corner and brings suga his cup of coffee while sipping on his own. the older friend, sanitising his tools for the day, stops mid-clean. “what the hell is that?”

he refers to the flower behind jungkook’s ear. “oh. nothing.” 

“ah…” suga smiles, accepting his drink. “you and flower girl have been getting along well.” 

“she’s nice to talk to.” jungkook says, not thinking much of it. suga scoffs, knowing his friend too well. 

jungkook walks back to his corner, removing the flowers. his hand hovers over the trash can, flowers in his palm. he looks at it again, then smiles. instead, he places them on his desk, right next to the pressed flower coaster you had given him months back. he chuckles, looking at the contrast of these items to the rest of his workspace. 

sighing, he starts his day, with a flower blooming in his heart.

[karinasbaby]

prince lion hybrid heeseung & snow leopard reader — royal au, hunger games-like au, hybrid au obv. not proofread, posting this & going to sleep goodnight !

when the young leo was born to the kingdom, to his strong lion parents, it was marked down in history as the luckiest day for the empire.

just as the small cub hissed, his lean golden tail engulfing his father’s wrist as he cradled him, everyone in the room witnessed the timelines being rewritten.

the tears in the queen’s eyes at the sight of her strong son, the vibrating purrs of delight from the king that shook the entire chamber. the long awaited prince has finally arrived. a healthy, powerful and brave lion.

while on the the other side of the country, above the snow covered mountains and the misty air, the cry of another cub broke out.

one quieter, more wise. the tail of the hybrid fluffier, thick and icy. suited for the frosty temperatures.

held between lesser arms in comparison to the lion prince, quieter celebrations and a smaller achievement, a petite mark in the feline history.

you were embraced by snow, raised between the frozen flakes and the darkened wooden oaks. a jarring contrast from the blinding gold that surrounded the prince, the silk and ruffling robes that slashed like thunder behind him when he stomped through the royal hallways.

while your father taught you the weak points of the prey, how to efficiently sink your fangs when threatened— heeseung’s father trained him to wage war, illuminated his path to darker and deeper bloodbaths, drilled his sickened ideologies that have been carried within the empire for centuries.

that’s what the jungle lived by, a vastly different ground than the mountains. so one would wonder, how could your snowy path possibly cross heeseung’s golden one?

it was a cruel end to yours when you were pushed onto your knees in front of the king. the lion with the untamed mane and the coiling tail that his royal robes were never able to contain, forced. you didn’t want to be here.

while a leopard’s freedom should never be taken, that wasn’t a belief that swirled in the thick head of the lion king, much less his prince’s head as they both stood in front of the newest contestants.

the ones that will fight to death to earn a place in the jungle, the only place a feline would be forced to live in with the premise that it is a privilege, a blessing to be beneath the care of the king and under the wing of the empire.

but that was far from the truth— especially for you, if you were to judge from the way the king’s golden slit eyes twinged with hatred when they noticed your whitened fur. the disapproving snarl when your spotted silvery tail coiled behind you in alarm.

yet the prince’s eyes were gentle, they were curious as they studied the first snow leopard to paw above the royal grounds in centuries.

a mystery, a true divine enigma that he was thrilled to discover, to know.

and you knew now that your only problem wouldn’t be the king, it would be the prince’s wild curiosity as well.

[delugyu]

soooo i had a thought, who do you think best fits an exes au? 🎤

astrology anon btw also i saw that c3 pt2 is coming i’m going to die

AHHHHH!!!!! great question. i’m a lunatic so i am envisioning something for each member

yeonjun - staying as friends after breaking up w him, which works fine at first but eventually he starts missing the way things were. friendship isn’t enough anymore but he doesn’t have the guts to say anything cause he doesn’t want to know that you’re moving on. lots of silent pining until he feels suffocated by unexpressed emotion, then he’s rambling about how breaking up was a mistake that he regrets every day, he loves you and thinks about you more now than ever before, and he needs you to know this even if you don’t feel the same.

soobin - THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY!!! he’s the one i see most fitting for the exes trope… he’s the kind of person who never really leaves you, even when he’s gone he still lingers in your mind as a constant buzz. you see him again by chance and you can’t let the opportunity pass, and u find out he never really wanted to leave in the first place. reconnecting and being able to understand each other better now, more mature than you were back then, able to see now that your future was always him. he would have never dated anyone again, he would have spent a lifetime waiting for you, but he’s glad he didn’t have to wait quite that long.

beomgyu - the break up was mutual, but beomgyu realizes when he sees you dating some other guy that he wasn’t over you as much as he thought he was. the dude’s a prick, what on earth could you possibly see in him!!? beomgyu was literally better in every single way, he’s sure of it. he even texts you to make sure you’re actually you and not some alien clone of yourself, cause he’s so sure you’d never stoop this low. he wasn’t a jealous person in the relationship, but he sees red every time you walk across campus with that asshole on your arm. he should probably do something about this. yeah, fuck it. he’s going up to you.

taehyun - he will become your enemy once u break up… he doesn’t spare you a single glance anymore, refuses to talk to you, drops contact with all your mutual friends who took your side. his friends get the real story though: he’s a mess without you. he’s not sleeping the same, he’s drowning the pain with whatever routes of escapism he has access to. he can’t stand that you’re not miserable without him, but he doesn’t dare talk to u about it, cause that would mean he lost the break up. it gets to the point where one of his friends comes to you like “hey. can u talk to taehyun. he’s kinda going through it.” and you’re confused asf cause you thought he hated you now

kai - the one to try desperately to win u back, coming to your front door with apologies and a tender heart and red eyes from crying all night. you broke up with him yesterday, and you thought it was best for the two of you to go no contact, but clearly he thinks otherwise. there’s no hard feelings, you just wanted different things from the relationship. with him pleading at your door in the middle of the night, ready to do anything to get you back, you’d feel bad to not at least let him sleep here for the night. okay, maybe a part of it is also that you’re missing him too.

[wonryllis]

somewhere in northern italy | 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇.

synopsis. park sunghoon hates oranges, he always has. the tangy citrusy tingles he's so not fond of it. he also hates you, the living embodiment of an orange: cheery, full of life, and well, round. why should he be bothered by it though? all he has to do is work hard to get into his dream university. but the thing is, he really needs a specific recommendation letter for it. something which he can only get from your father. and hypothetically speaking, he can't just ask for it, so he does you 'a favor for a favor'; he fake dates you on your trip home for summer break and surprise surprise your family owns the biggest orange farm in the country.

or where, sunghoon falls for the one thing he has hated all his life.

word count. 1.6k (teaser) full fic: est 10k-15k? maybe more?

meet the cast. park sunghoon who has an obsession of taking photos with fem!reader who loves being photographed.

genre. fake dating AUUUU!!!! ANDDD enemies to lovers!!!(for hoon), frenemies to lovers(for you), fluff, crackkkk, nsfw, suggestive, sunghoon getting cockblocked all the damn time, set in lombardy, northern italy. popular x unpopular but it's mildly mentioned. sunghoon thinks you are a spoiled brat, a very very studious and upright sunghoon. oh and did you know? orange, orange and orange (sunghoons nightmare) rich girlie and old money reader, sunghoon is gobsmacked at reader's house, parents..(do i really need to add?) and the orange farm.

warnings. allusions as to reader being daddy's princess and being sheltered and hoon struggling every day with oranges and painting a good image of himself to get that letter. nsfw warnings will be added in the full fic. (also no it's not a chubby reader)

RELEASE DATE. TBD

author's note﹙ ⌕. ﹚ had this random ass idea while having orange juice yesterday ksjksj. taglist is open for this as well as the permanent one, just let me know and i'll add you asap! not sure if this' good enough kindly bear with me. PLS DONT LET THIS FLOP I REALLY LOVE THIS BABY ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

꒰⠀ N O W P L A Y I N G. ⠀꒱ cruel summer by taylor swift, one kiss by calvin harris & dua lipa, karma by taylor swift, me by taylor swift, call it what you want by taylor swift, blinding lights by the weekend, fireworks by katy perry

"you wanna go down to the lake?" sunghoon looks up to find you at the door, more like peeping in from outside. his hands stopping mid-air with his spongebob boxers in hand, in the middle of unpacking what was left of his luggage. he moves at the speed of light, shoving them back in before you can notice the print. but too late you already saw it well, "you wear spongebob?" your laugh tickles his insides and it feels weird how he seems to like it.

no, he did not want to go out right now. after that stressful breakfast in the garden he just wants to fall face first into your fluffy mattress and sleep it out under your silk comforter. but something about your laugh makes him intrigued, would going down to the lake with you show him more of this side of yours? now this would probably be the seventh time he has wondered of how prettily you laugh. the curve of your eyes and the faint dimples on your cheeks his favourite things. oh? he picked favourites already it's weird, he thinks.

"yeah, let's go. just lemme change my shirt real quick," disappearing into the bathroom before you have the chance to speak. though when he steps back into the room,"your taste is funny," his spongebob boxers hang at the tip of your index finger as you look closely at the design. "put that back!" he scolds, choking on his spit while he rushing over.

"why? don't tell me you haven't washed it? now that's really bad hoonie," the tone of your voice teases his nerves but honestly he's used to it, more precisely he doesn't hate it as much as he thought he did.

"y/n," he warns, albeit not seriously and you can see it.

"baby," in a sweet little smile, (one that has sunghoon's hate for you faltering in the slightest each time you put it on) you correct him,"remember?" my fake boyfriend, mouthing out through a sly grin.

it's like an immediate que for him to give it up, he's not gonna win against you. when he used to see you around the university, mingling amidst a crowd of people every single time, he always thought you'd hold nothing against him. in his eyes you were a hollow image, nothing worth it. perhaps he was wrong, for so far you have him tight in a grip, he can't seem to find something to properly hate. that is if he takes the oranges out the picture.

he sighs in resignation,"come on, let's go, baby." happy? his brows rising in a question, softening up at your smile getting wider with a swift nod.

he relaxed too soon.

"was this really necessary?" the palm of his hand slides around your wrist as you walk down the steps of your italian chateau. supporting your heel clad feet and gesturing at the big beige floppy beach hat sitting atop your head. "absolutely! it's my fa- dad!" sunghoon's head snaps at that, immediately turning to look at the pitch of your voice going higher. the real deal, your father still seated in the garden with a newspaper in his hands and dear lord, a glass of orange juice.

it's embarrassing to be seen with you like that, he was gonna say. but oh well, nevermind.

"i see you have your favorite hat on, going somewhere with sunghoon?" your dad asks smiling warmly at your pair. it makes sunghoon scared, aren't dads supposed to hate boyfriends? is he being bamboozled by your family? will he be preyed upon later when you are not there to see? as if it was possible, your entire family though really welcoming of him are a bunch of weirdos, who the fuck let's their precious daughter share her room with her boyfriend they've met for the first time?

when he agreed to fake date you he didn't know he'd have to put on such a detailed act. there's literally no restrictions for you in the house. you do whatever you want, when ever you want. and that includes taking him everywhere you go, because apparently your parents know him as the boyfriend who loves you so much that he can't let you be alone at any time. shouldn't that be a red flag though? he can't with this anymore, just over a day in and he's convinced he can't make it make sense anymore, it's a white towel, he can only go with the flow.

"yes he really wanted to go down to the lake," what me? when? sunghoon's eyes wander in a panic while you smile as if you weren't just lying through your teeth. smile sunghoon smile, just fucking smile, he reminds himself wondering if he should maybe say something, maybe not?,"didn't you, baby?" the little nudge of your elbow against him tells him that he should, oh god its difficult to learn when to do what.

"yeah the weather seems really good," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, internally facepalming himself. he has one job, and he's failing even that.

"hm, true," the acknowledgement from your father helps calm his nerves a bit but it runs on high again at his next words,"be back before lunch though, your brother and sister in law will be home soon. it's been so long since we last ate together," you have a brother? why wasn't he informed about this? is the universe playing a game with him? as if your parents weren't enough, now he has to impress more people. he can do this, for the sake of his recommendation letter he has to do it.

"yes dad! love you," sunghoon waits like a lone statue as you leave his side to press a kiss to your father's cheek. grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away the moment he opens his mouth to bid your father. at this rate you'll ruin it for him before he can ruin it himself. "slowdown, fluffy. i'll fall at this speed," he tries but it's to no avail, he should have known by now, no one can control you.

the walk down to the lake is quieter than he expected, no bickering or fighting. you show him around the small streets and shops on the way, telling him little stories back from your childhood. sometimes stopping at a spot,"so pretty, can you take a picture of me here?" and it's already the fourth time. he doesn't mind though, on the contrary he finds himself enjoying it. it's not everyday he gets to roam around the streets of italy with the perfect weather.

it doesn't take long for you both to reach the deck on the far left. following your lead, he sits down on the edge beside you, legs hanging low over the cold water and your shoes placed on one side. you sit close, arms brushing each other, little finger atop one another. your hair flowing with the wind swipes against his face when you turn the other way, a subtle hint of sweet (you guessed it) orange tingling his smell buds. instead of grimacing his life off, he leans closer for another whiff of it. "sunghoon!" retracting immediately when you turn back to him.

"hm?" a feeling so out of this world, a haze lost in his mind. your words sound blurry and your extravagant hat looks so pretty on you. he almost feels like he has to capture this. "i asked how you like it? weren't you listening? what're you thinking?" and he does, taking out his phone and clicking a candid. he can't believe he now has a photo of you in his gallery that he's taken on his own accord. he's been doing many weird things lately,"it's really pretty," so so many weird things.

"hey fluffy i've been wondering about something," he speaks again, looking away to try to ignore tiny little fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

"what is it?"

"haven't you ever dated before, why do your parents seem so excited to see you have a boyfriend?" there he asked it, the biggest mystery he can't stop thinking about from the moment he set foot in your palace of a house. if it's your first then maybe that would somewhat explain their behaviour, not that it would become normal altogether, just kind of justifiable that he won't be put on the rack. that he's truly welcomed and he's safe.

"not really, no one ever met my standards," your answer throws him off. what?

"does that mean i do?" he tests the water, cautious above all yet his tone still comes off as one of tease.

"yes, except one," he eyes turn to you at that, pupils dilated with curiosity for the one thing stopping him from the title of 'perfect for you' as your parents claimed. meeting his eyes in a lock of contact, you give him a small smile. hands moving over to his white button up, fingers tracing his collar and undone buttons watching his adam's apple bob in a hard gulp as his brown orbs follow your movements, sweat building up at the close proximity when you both lock eyes again,"you don't really like me," sunghoon immediately looks away, a stab of reality, he was actually anticipating something he could change. really park sunghoon? remember you don't like her?

"am i wrong?" you laugh leaning forward to have a look at his face.

"i never said that," sunghoon clears his throat, turning back, suddenly gaining a surge of confidence. park sunghoon what???

TAGLIST ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @deobitifull @nottkwiwin @enhyven @crysieberry @eneiyri @sovlidago @fertiliezedtoesw @laylasmother @pockyyasii @ladyartemesia @kaispulshies @nctislifue @capri-cuntz @sweetjaemss @parksunghoonsgf @ariadores @asteria-wood @laurradoesloveu @en-dream @304files

[spideyhexx]

oct. 24 - bloody, bliss, belt and billy

Saccharine!Billy Bonney x FemaleReader

mdni!!! wc; 3.4k cw; guns, death, blood, bloodplay, fingering

kinktober 2024 masterlist

saccharine masterlist (this is standalone!!!)

a/n; very happy to bring saccharine back :) i love these two so much, fyi some dialogue is taken from s2ep5!!! Enjoy you lot and preemptive apologies ig

Fuck Buckshot. Like seriously, fuck him. And Murphy. And Jesse. And the whole lot of those guys who are after your Billy. 

Not yours. Yours in theory. 

He doesn’t know yet. 

They are after you too and all of the guys who run with Billy, but you couldn’t give a fuck. If Billy the fucking Kid died at one of their gross hands, you would be seeing red until you were riddled with bullet holes. 

It’s an unfortunate thought. 

You always thought about him getting killed. He would typically brush it off when you bring it up to him. Billy was prepared to die and you hated it. But any ounce of the topic leaving your mouth, he would brush you off and redirect you. 

In hindsight, he could give a small wave of his hand and you would be distracted from your initial thoughts. By his hand. 

And thoughts of his hand.  

Anyway, fuck Buckshot. 

It was a no-brainer that Murphy sent him out to the hideout you and the rest of the gang have been holed up in for the past week. How did they find you all? You’re unsure. There was a rotation of being a lookout and none of you have seen any of Murphy’s guys. 

You all were unlucky indeed. 

Being truly scared by something was not in your blood, but Buckshot left chills in your damn bones. Not as good of a shot as Billy, but Buckshot was still good and he was ruthless. A kind of violence you only read myths about but you have seen with your own eyes what that grimy man was capable of. 

Buckshot had approached your little hideout alone. He’s at a distance, but George recognized him the moment he saw the lazy movements of a man sipping from a flask while on his horse. 

It’s a slow, but urgent rush of moving inside the small house after Billy. Billy’s jaw is tight. Not that you are looking at his jaw. 

But your eyes naturally fall on him in the adrenaline rush of a possible shootout. It can’t be that bad, can it? It‘s seven on one, and the odds are in your favor, but a flash of Billy’s chest destroyed with bullet holes did not help your stomach. 

He moves closer to the small window, and you and Tom trail quickly behind him. “Do you think-”

“Shh,” Billy hushes you and the restraint you hold on rolling your eyes should earn you a clap from him. 

“He already knows we’re here,” you mumble and Billy only gives you a momentary glare before he’s watching through the small window again.

He raises his rifle, and cocks it, keeping it aimed right at the bumbling man coming down from his horse, his fingers gripping the weapon with an ease only Billy could have. 

Your fingers twitch at your gun in your holster, but you don’t pull it out yet. Your shoulder brushes his arm and Billy shakes his head ever so slightly. 

The nerve of this fucking man. A brush and he’s shaking his head at you. If you weren’t fearing for potential lives lost, you’d smack the back of his head to really get a reaction. 

You can vaguely hear George’s words to Buckshot, wondering why he’s here, how he found you all. Billy is impossibly still besides his jaw clenching. 

“I come to capture the Kid…alive or dead,” Buckshot says in the distance your eyes refocus out the small opening of the house. Your hand tightens to the handle of your gun. If Billy is miraculously not quick enough, you’ll get this done for him. 

It’s annoying that you’re distracted a few seconds by Billy shifting up closer to the window, his fingers clenching and then relaxing on his gun, keeping it pointed, ready. You’re especially attracted to his finger near the trigger and the slight tenseness in his voice as he mutters, “C’mon Georgie, move.”

When you look back over, George is as calm as ever, stating his ground, though you echo Billy’s words in your head. Buckshot starts to laugh though, sending more chills up your spine. Your heart beats fast as he quickly pulls up his rifle. 

A flurry of guns raising and cocking fills the air. You go to do your own, but Billy stops your hand, then returns his to his gun. Your brow furrows at him and he doesn’t look back at you. 

By the time you look back out the window, Buckshot is shooting at George. 

A gasp leaves your lips and shots ring out, Tom grabbing your arm to tug you down out of sight of the window. You hear Billy’s gun go off once, and twice, and the anguished sound of pain from outside the house. Your friends are getting shot. 

You pull your gun out.

Buckshot yells out, “Billy! You fuckin’ coward, where ya at!?” 

You peek from the doorway to asses who’s hurt, only to feel someone’s hand grip at your collar and pull you back. 

Billy. His face is screwed in annoyance and he pulls you back completely out of the way as his voice booms, “Y’all stay here! It’s me he’s after.”

Your eyes widen as you process his words, “Bonney!”

“No,” Billy all but pushes at your head so you stay on the ground and away as he nears the doorway,  “Buckshot, hold your fire!”

Maybe you’ll kill Billy before Buckshot has a chance. You stare daggers into him, but stay put on the wooden floor. His eyes quickly glance at you, before he yells, “I’m comin’ out!” 

Your brain scream at you to lunge forward. Grab to his leg! Pull him down with you! Barrel yourself in front of him! But your limbs don’t work. The chills that went up your spine reached your head then flowed back down your entire body, leaving you frozen and breathing heavy as you watch Billy hold his hands out. 

“You can take me alive,” he shouts over to Buckshot, stepping slow out of the house. Bouts of worry fill your chest and you force yourself to move the slightest bit to be able to watch him. 

“Puttin’ my rifle down,” Billy continues, slowly setting his gun against the nearby post of the house. Some of the other men scatter to get into better positions and you take that opportunity to give yourself the final push to bring you to your feet. 

You move out of the small house as Billy continues his small steps towards Buckshot. Your hand firm on your gun, staying crouched down enough to hide yourself and have a good eye on Billy. 

“It’s just you and me,” he calls out. Your gaze stays strictly on his back, his broad shoulders tense as he holds his arms out in surrender. What the fuck is he thinking, you wonder, and you’re already coming up with ways to berate him later for this if he doesn’t get killed. 

Buckshot rises from his hiding spot, then you feel a heat spark deep in you. It’s so quick, you should have expected it, but Billy pulls his gun from his holster like lightning and shoots at Buckshot, getting him right near his hip. 

Billy stalks forward with his gun raised and you subconciously clench your thighs together, your back to the post, but head turned to watch every single one of Billy the fucking Kid’s movements. 

He cocks his gun just as Buckshot fumbles for his gun, but the man stands no chance as Billy fires off again. 

Billy’s steps quicken until he can drive his booted foot to Buckshot’s wrist as he was reaching for his rifle, “No, leave it,” Billy spits out and you find yourself inching closer to the scene, gun at the ready in case Buckshot gets an upperhand. 

But who are you kidding? 

You can feel Billy’s sneer almost as if it’s directed at you. His boot digs into the man’s wrist, as Buckshot garbles out a, “fuck you,” at Billy. His hand holds his gun with less tensity than you would expect, but that’s because Billy is all confidence. All of his actions are met with no hesitation and full bravado, enough to make you roll your eyes back and look away from him to collect yourself. 

You can’t look away for too long.  

Billy kneels down and grabs at Buckshot’s free arm to keep pressing him down, his voice gruff, “You lookin’ for me? You lookin’ for me huh?” 

All Buckshot does is laugh like the evil son of a bitch he is but you can’t focus on him. The man on top of him, the man on top of him cocks his gun and he jams the barrel to Buckshot’s mouth, “Here I am.”

Billy squeezes the trigger, killing Buckshot in that mere instant. The beating of your heart almost hurts your chest as you stare at him, mouth parted and hand loosening on your own gun. 

The man chokes for a few seconds and Billy removes his hands from him, panting. His head lifts and his eyes lock to yours. For those few moments Billy looks at you, you see the pure violence and ruthlessness swimming in his bright eyes. It should scare you, and it does, but it also excites a part of you that you wish did not exist. The same part of you that’s brutal. 

His eyes flit to your lap, where you had not realized your hand was awfully high on your thigh. You feel yourself heat up, and move your hand quickly, holstering your gun, but he’s already looking away, gaze back down at Buckshot. You’re locked in as Billy spits on his corpse before he stands back up.  

Spits. 

Your eyes flutter and you swallow down hard, barely catching the sound of some of the men walking over, but when your eyes focus again, Billy’s stalking off towards the thicket of trees ahead, alone. 

A push of adrenaline surges you onto your feet and you jog after him, ignoring any of the looks from the others. 

“Billy!” 

He stops short and you almost bump into his back. Well, you purposely let yourself bump into his back. It’s a little chilly outside but he’s warm. 

A sigh leaves him and he turns to face you, his typical blank look challenges that violence still swarming in his eyes, but you center your attention to the blood on his face. Then drop your gaze to the blood on his hands. The redness shouts out it’s danger in a wordless manner, you know Billy, but who is this Billy? This Billy that kills without a moment’s hesitation and is not looking bothered in the slightest that he’s got another man’s blood on him. He must be bothered, you know that. His fingers twitch at his side and the blood on his pointer finger calls your name. His other hand still holds to his gun. 

Get it together, cowgirl, you think to yourself. Fuck that, you think immediately after. You grab his gun from him and stuff it into his belt. Billy does nothing to stop you. 

His brow raises. “What?”

“That was really fuckin’ stupid,” you mutter. In your head, you said it louder and with a bitterness to your voice, but no matter how hard you could try, it was not gonna come out that way. 

His jaw tightens and he looks off to the side at nothing in particular, then back to you. His eyes rake down then back up to your face. The familiar chill runs through you, but not a scared one. 

“Maybe, but it’s done. Go back to the guys, see if they need help,” Billy says, his voice still rough, nodding towards where you both came from. 

“Haha. You’re not gettin’ rid of me like that, Bonney, you know that,” you tell him with a touch of that bitter tone you were hoping to give him. You step closer to him to almost be chest to chest. He doesn’t flinch or move. 

“That was stupid. Buckshot is-was a good shot and he coulda easily gotten you and then killed all of us right after ya! You’re lucky you’re such a good fuckin’ shot too because-”

“Cowgirl. Slow. Your. Roll,” Billy says, his voice a bit lower, head tilted down enough to meet your gaze head on. 

You grit your teeth. The indifference on his face makes your blood boil and your underwear get wetter but that’s besides the point, “No! In fact what was that stunt ya pulled in the house? You know I can handle my own and you grab me and pull me back? You push me away when I was gonna help? Billy fucking Bonney, how many times do I-”

His chapped lips from the incoming cold winter press into yours and you would not have it any other way. 

It’s the…second? Third time he’s kissed you? It’s better by a million each time. The force in which Billy grabs your face, digging his bloody fingers to your cheeks and bruising your lips with his own leads to the filthiest thoughts you think you’ve ever had. This violent man that you deem yours, a little bloodied, none of it his own. Rugged and roughly giving you his all through just a mere kiss? 

You give him back as much as he gives, pressing to him and fisting your hands to his vest, until you remember why you were telling him off and you push at him. “No!”

Billy blinks at you with a dazed look in his eyes and he shifts his gun belt, as if to hide the growing bulge in his pants. 

It was that easy. 

“Oh fuck you,” you grumble, stomping back closer and slamming your lips back to his. You don’t think about the blood now staining your cheeks or the slight metallic taste that gets in your mouth when you bite on Billy’s lip. His groan is enough to suffice and quench the way you were angry at him. 

Still, you mumble to his lips through kisses, “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” he says, backing the two of you up until you’re up against a tree. His lips trail down along your jaw, nipping at the skin, his hands awkwardly not holding onto you. 

“Billy, just touch me.”

“They’re dirty.”

You roll your eyes. “Billy you already touched my face, I don’t care about the fuckin’ blood.”

To prove your words, you undo the buttons of your trousers, then grab his wrist, pulling his hand down the front of your pants. For a second you’re afraid he’ll reject this. You have yet to do something as much as this with him, but your body is aching. Your feelings beyond being angry or worried about him, but feeling fucking alive at the way he killed Buckshot. 

He doesn’t hesitate.  

Billy the fucking Kid. Man. He’s a man. 

Billy moans and leans his forehead to your cheek, his fingers dipping into your underwear and sliding against your cunt to get a feel for you. 

“I would watch you kill that motherfucker over and over again if you did it that way,” you whisper to him with a harsh breath as his fingers circle your clit, like he knows your body already despite having never touched it like this. 

“This is sick of you,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek and lingering his lips there. You don’t point out to Billy that although it may be fucked of you to enjoy this while his fingers are bloodied with someone else’s blood, he may be just as sick for kissing near the blood stain on your cheek and promptly licking over his lips to let the blood into his mouth. 

You want to call him out for it so bad, but he eases his finger into you just right, breathing hot on your face. 

“Oh…fuck,” you whisper, glancing down, your knees almost buckling as he starts to slowly thrust his finger into you, and you catch the side of his bulge, more prominent than you may have ever seen it, straining to his trousers and begging for your attention. 

“Bonney, can I-”

“Yes,” he cuts you off, taking his finger out just enough to add a second. You bite your lip to stifle your moan, your hand finding the outline of his cock and palming him, giving him some sort of friction that he clearly needed because Billy adjusts his arm and begins fucking his fingers quick up into you. 

Billy nods to your cheek when you whimper, “I know, I know, I knew you’d get so fuckin’ wet for me, Cowgirl, but…fuck you’re dirty, fuck I got his fuckin’ blood…,” Billy can’t finish his words because he has to muffle his own noise, pressing his face into your hair and nuzzling his nose at your temple. 

“You…you spit on him,” you mumble and Billy shakes his head against you, curling his fingers and massaging them in you to get you to whimper. He likes that sound, you deduce. 

“I spit on him,” Billy repeat and his free hand shoots up to your jaw, holding your face up and he spits on your lips before you can open your mouth to receive it. It makes his eyes flutter and his forehead rest to yours, his fingers making quick work even with the restraint your pants give. You can both hear the sound, how wet you are and how his palm slaps to your cunt with each thrust. 

He knows you can’t focus on rubbing him, but what you are able to do is enough in the moment. Your thumb rubs right at his tip over his pants, feeling the wet spot forming the more you press into it. You can barely look at your Billy, though that’s all you want to do. All you want to do is look at the man. 

He squeezes your jaw and kisses the corner of your mouth, a sweeter kiss than you’d expect in the moment as you clench around his fingers and resist screaming out his name. Another time. 

“Gonna come on your fingers, Billy,” you shudder, and he quickens the pace, brow furrowed and eyes locked intensely on your face. 

“Make ‘em more of a mess, go ahead, please,” he whispers, a desperation wafting from his voice and his hips bucking your hand. What sends you over the edge is his thumb just barely slipping to your mouth, the taste of blood filling your senes as you spasm on his fingers, and bite your cheek hard enough to draw your own blood. 

You’ve never felt this blissed out. Your legs almost buckle, but Billy presses against you enough to keep you standing as his fingers work you through the orgasm, his breath panting and his nose finding your temple again, where he leaves the softest kiss, you almost would not notice it.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, his fingers slipping out of you and then pulling from your pants. His fingers surely are a slick mess, the remnants of blood still there and the wet spot on the front of his pants bigger than when you first saw it. 

You stare at him. He stares at you. Your breaths aren’t returning to normal, but you cannot look away from him. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt either,” he blurts out, referring most likely to why he pushed you back earlier.

“No shit.”

He straightens up and shakes his head. He would roll his eyes at you, you’re sure, but he doesn’t. 

You slap at his chest but he grabs your wrist, “Hey!”

“Don’t ever remind me of this,” he tells you in a low voice. You frown. Was this him rejecting you? That it was a mistake all along? That he acted on some weird impulse and did not care to continue this despite the constant-

“About this part,” he mutters, awkwardly gesturing to his pants.

Your Billy. 

Your lips start to quirk and he squeezes your wrist tighter, “Cowgirl, No. I said no.”

“One sentence,” you beg, even adding a little whine. Just for him. 

He tries to give you a stern look, but his shoulders slump and he shifts on his feet, “One.”

Letting yourself smile, you take a deep breath, “You must reallyyyyy fuckin’ like me if you come that easily, Bonney. And-”

“Ah Ah Ah,” he interrupts and puts his palm over your mouth, but you can see the hint of a smile on his lips, and the violence gone from his eyes. 

Your Billy. 

[deskgirl]

I wonder whose idea it was to hide Izzy—Frenchie’s or Jim’s. Which of them knew about the kitchen’s hidden room, Jim who was trained to be an assassin or Frenchie who’s clever and sees and hears things? Who grabbed whom by the shoulder and murmured in low tones before they both got Archie to help them drag Izzy down below? Or perhaps they said nothing at all, instead gesturing with a head nod and a raised eyebrow and the other responding in kind.

It wouldn’t have been Archie who has no reason to risk her own life or Fang was too distraught. So it has to be between Jim who said “but he’s our dick” and cut a man’s leg off and Frenchie who said he shoves all his emotions in a box but then helped hide the man he was expected to kill.

Maybe it wasn’t necessarily either of them who told the other to do it. Maybe they just looked at each other across the deck and knew they were thinking the same thing.

[thelonelyshore-if]

Jay Drabble

Or, Jay wakes up next to MC for the first time.

The first time Jay saw you, they had no idea that they'd love you. 

Ravi had a feeling. That's all he would tell them about why they were walking alongside the lake when a storm was clearly about to break. That deep into October, night had already fallen despite the early hour. Jay had their flashlight out, scanning the beach for the source of the feeling.

The water was a cold, dark unknown. Empty of promise or reason for concern. Kristy Edwards was still missing at that point, and Jay was half hopeful that Ravi might be leading them towards her. They were focused on the beach itself, looking more for a body than anything else. 

“Oh,” Ravi had said, looking out at the lake. 

Jay turned, a sinking feeling in their gut as they found what they'd been looking for. A body, bobbing in the water like a dead fish. Limp. Motionless.

Not Kristy, though. Not anyone.

They ran in without thinking. For someone so cautious with their personal life, Jay sure had a knack for rushing into danger. 

The first time Jay saw you, you were drenched in lake water, your pajamas clinging to your skin and your eyes shut. The first time they kissed you, it was to push air into your lungs, their hands pumping rhythmically at the still heart in your chest. 

Now it's six in the morning and they've kissed you again. Kissed you and more, spent a night with you that still has their heart pounding.

Jay lays awake in their bed. One arm is tucked behind their head, propping them up enough that they can look at you curled up on their chest. The other is pinned between your torso and a satin pillowcase. Pins and needles stab at the trapped limb, and they're trying to figure out how to escape without ruining the moment. 

The problem is that they're so damn comfortable, other than the dead weight of their arm. You lay with your head buried in the curve of their neck. They can feel the steady rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your skin. 

You're here. You're alive. You're beautiful.

Dim light shines in from the hallway. Last night you stayed up talking for hours. You sat shoulder to shoulder on their old red sofa, discussing anything and everything. Leaning closer and closer as the night went on. Knees bumping, hands brushing together. Talking turned to kissing turned to…

Well. 

Jay smiles. They can’t help it–a giddy, excited, teenager-who-just-had-their-first-kiss sort of smile.

You both were distracted enough that it's no surprise they forgot to turn off the light. Other than the dim golden glow streaming in from the hall, Jay's bedroom is dark. It's late enough in the year that the sun won't come up for hours, and they'll take the darkness for as long as they can get it. 

This feels like a dream, a moment wrapped in the magic of waking up with you in their arms for the very first time. 

Well. Waking up with you on their arm. An arm that is, quite frankly, killing them. 

Jay doesn't want to break the spell, but their arm is starting to feel like the static that builds up on the surface of their TV.

They stretch out their fingers and grimace when the motion sends sparks shooting straight up to their shoulder. They scoot back in bed, slowly managing to wriggle their arm out from under your neck. 

They pull free, shake out their fingers. Blood rushes back into their hand and it stings, but nothing like it was before. They watch you, fondness and amusement mingling as your face briefly twists into a mask of annoyance. You crack open a single eye, looking up at them.

“Jay…?” you squint into the darkness, words sluggish with sleep.

“Morning,” they say softly.

Jay’s heart melts when your groggy expression fades into a sleepy smile. You roll over until you’ve propped yourself up on your side. You swoop down, peppering their ribs with clumsy kisses.

“Hey–!” their voice cracks into laughter. It tickles, and they shift away from you, but you’ve wrapped your arm around their waist. They’re trapped, and they’re elated, and this is the best morning of their entire life.

“You woke me up,” you accuse.

“I couldn’t feel my arm,” they grin, “You were crushing it.”

You open your mouth to protest and they can't resist leaning in and catching your lips with theirs. They pour all of their giddiness and joy and relief into the kiss, hoping that you can feel the warmth blooming inside them. You receive it eagerly. They wrap an arm around your waist, pull you in close. 

The kiss lasts for seconds. It lasts for hours. Jay loses themself in the heat of your lips. They feel dizzy with affection, and their heart feels like it's going to burst. 

Finally it ends and you break apart, but they keep holding you. You both shift position until you're resting your head on their chest and their arm is curled around you. It'll probably fall asleep again, but they can't resist the intoxicating feeling of you at their side. 

“Wow,” they breathe, staring up at the ceiling.

You laugh, your breath tickling their skin. 

“Was it that good?” you tease. 

Yes, they want to say, but that's not all. They're marveling because they never could have expected this. They pulled you out of the lake, took pride in having helped find you. In keeping you safe 

But it wasn't until now that Jay truly understood just how lucky they were to save your life. 

“Stay for breakfast?” they say instead, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Sure,” you hum.

Jay smiles and closes their eyes. You both fall into a comfortable, drowsy silence. Hopefully you'll stick around and you can spend your day together, but for now this is all they need. 

This is perfect. 

[omi-boshi]

been having massive brainworms of yachi and kiyoomi meeting in college and becoming close friends + yachi having to play wingman for kiyoomi when he meets you

cannot stop thinking about unlikely friends yachi and kiyoomi. they probably first met during nationals in kiyoomi's last year in itachiyama. maybe she piqued his interest when he heard her tell hinata to go back to the bathroom and wash his hands properly. they met again in uni and stuck together until they graduated and had to part ways because of their career choices.

and it probably was a gradual thing too, how they became friends. with kiyoomi being generally prickly and yachi being so shy. they just started sitting at the same table one day in the library. then, small nods of acknowledgment became hesitant attempts at small talk. then, it turned into kiyoomi crashing into the chair across from yachi that he has deemed his throughout the semester and immediately complaining about some professor while yachi nods in sympathy. then, it turned into yachi buying two orders of her coffee for that day because she knew kiyoomi would try stealing her coffee under the guise of "i just wanted to try what sugary concoction you brought today, hitoka. c'mon." that he swears he doesn't like. they probably also have matching keychains that kiyoomi bought for them on a whim one day when he was out in the city. and kiyoomi was definitely the person yachi had on speed dial for when she went on dates that started well but ended up making her uncomfortable. and in turn, yachi was the first one he told about you, about the person he was paired up with for a class presentation. she was the first to notice when kiyoomi started crushing on you, even before he himself realized. to notice the way kiyoomi would stare at you longer than necessary, gaze warm with an undercurrent of longing. and the way it might not be as one-sided as kiyoomi deemed it was when she catches you stealing glances at him when you think no one was looking. and naturally, yachi is the first to set the both of you up, ditching the hangout the three of you planned with motoya and tsukasa (that was two weeks in the making, mind you) because "ah, sorry! a very important deadline was moved to today and motoya, tsukasa-san, and i haven't even done half of it." kiyoomi would be disgruntled at how bad that excuse was because the three of them aren't even in the same classes, let alone groupings. and he tells yachi as much. you are none the wiser of course. "i'm really sorry!!! i was so excited too :(( we'll make it up to you both okay? xo" yachi would send to you and to kiyoomi, "if you don't end up kissing them by the end of tonight, don't even bother texting me. good luck!" - [Today 10:19PM] thanks, hitoka

[wwwvrly]

ok be honest,,,, if i write a drabble for cate would you want puppy!cate or bunny!cate ?

not me also thinking about sassy kitty!cate…