#floppy answers something

[hahskeleton]

Hey! I saw your Baby Sun and Moon AU, and I wanted to say that I feel happy to see that someone else also has an AU where Eclipse is Sun and Moon's father! My AU is called "Daycare Attendant Generations", and the second story in it, The Promised Twins, is like a prequel to Security Breach and it depicts Sun and Moon with childlike bodies and Eclipse (based on the Eclipse from the Ruin DLC) being the daycare attendant and also Sun and Moon's father! And that's just the first part of the timeline in DCA Generations! I drew them as they appear in that story if you're curious:

If you wanna see more of the AU, check out my sideblog, @dca-generations-au-official!

WAAAAAHH more dad Eclipse!! They’re so prettyyyyyy!! I took a minute to check out your Generations AU blog, and wow it seems pretty cool!!

Also, Eclipse’s design is very nice! His pants are my personal favorite, they’re very cool!! (Love the stars fading to stripes, very creative on your part!!)

And also also, if you like the dad Eclipse AUs, I suggest checking out @/galaxysugarr’s dad eclipse au and @/socksandbuttons’s baby backup au! Both of those have dad Eclipse’s in them and they are some of my favorite dad eclipse/baby aus <333

[sixeyesonathiel]

satoru gets jealous of inanimate objects.

why is the pillow getting more hugs than him? why is your phone funnier than he is? why does the blanket get wrapped around you instead of him when he’s literally right there, built like a heater, available and desperate for affection? he’s six feet of love-starved muscle, and you’re choosing a glorified sack of cotton over him?

it’s not that he’s dramatic (he is). it’s not that he craves your attention like it’s oxygen (he does). it’s just that he knows he can do it better. he can be softer than your pillow. warmer than your blanket. funnier than your timeline. he has jokes, okay? and arms. and a body that you used to cling to like a koala in your sleep, so what happened to that? what changed? was it something he did? is this punishment? have you… outgrown him?

“you haven’t hugged me all day,” he sulks, chin digging into your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around your waist like a vice. “you hugged that stuffed animal for a solid ten minutes. is he funnier than me, too? is he taller? stronger? does he have an eight-pack?”

“he’s a bunny, satoru.”

“a ripped bunny, probably. emotionally intelligent. good with taxes. i bet he remembers anniversaries.”

he would know. he bought it. it was one of those claw machine wins at the arcade on your second date, the kind where he burned through twenty dollars like it was pocket lint until he finally, triumphantly, fished the floppy-eared thing out by the foot. he made you name it. declared it your shared child. called it his competition from day one. satoru even gave it a tiny ribbon scarf, because he said it needed to look presentable when it went toe-to-toe with him for your affection.

he was all smiles and smug winks back then—thought it was funny. he’s not laughing now.

because here he is, years later, still glaring at the bunny across the bed like it wronged him personally. like it’s out here stealing his wife. he swears it watches him with beady little judgmental eyes. plotting. scheming. waiting for the right moment to hop in and take his place.

“do you love it more than me?” he deadpans, already pulling you into his chest like he doesn’t want to hear the answer. dramatic gasp. “oh my god, you do. you love the bunny more. i’m losing to polyester stuffing.”

you roll your eyes, but he’s already burying his face into your neck, all whiny and clingy and hot breath against your skin like a puppy who hasn’t seen you in years. he makes a noise when you finally stroke his hair, a pleased little hum, arms squeezing tighter like he’s won a prize. like he’s claiming you back from his fuzzy rival. his biggest nemesis to date.

“this is better,” he mumbles. “way better.”

(pillow: -1. bunny: forever suspect. phone: on thin ice. satoru: smug as hell and back in his rightful place—in your arms.)

[szatears]

comfort zone, modernau!smoke.

summary: just smoke spoiling his girl.

pairing: modernau!smoke x fem!black reader

warnings: some descriptions of reader, cunnilingus, also munch!smoke because we all deserve it.

notes: this sinners brainrot will not leave me alone and i love it !!! also we hit 100 followers after just a couple days... i love you all so bad 🫶🏾

It was around 6 in the evening when Smoke came home to you. He'd been away in Atlanta for two days, a business trip as usual. You knew what he did, the type of people he worked with and what that came with. You didn't really care because at the end of the day, the most important thing to you was your relationship with him.

Everyone knew him as Smoke, but to you he was just Elijah. As soon as he walked through the huge doors to your shared home, he stopped being Smoke and Elijah came out instead.

Whenever he was away, you'd usually occupy yourself with something just fine. Going out with your girls, catching up on your own work, visiting family and so on. Anything to help take missing him off of your mind.

Today, as you waited for Smoke to come back, you decided to get a manicure. A little touch up on your nails could never hurt. It didn't take too long either, a half hour drive there and back in just under two hours. God, did you love your nail tech.

You had them done blue, Smoke's favourite colour on you.

You lounged around the house waiting for him, your only other companion being the small rottweiler puppy that Smoke had gifted to you. He whined as you patted him, rolling over next to you.

"I know, baby, daddy's coming home soon." You frowned, scratching behind his floppy ears.

The sound of keys turning in the door had those floppy ears turning straight real quick. Before you could even turn your head to the door, your puppy was already there, scratching at the back of it whilst Smoke attempted to get through.

"Man, move───" he muttered, trying to get through with a bunch of shopping bags and a puppy nipping at his legs.

You smiled, a part of you exhaling a sigh of relief that he'd come back to you in one piece.

It was never easy to see Smoke leave, the thought of him never coming back to you was always looming over your head. But just like he always reassured you he would, he came back seemingly fine.

You walked towards them, Smoke's facial features gradually relaxing at the sight of you. "Hi," you spoke smoothly, your arms around his neck as you pulled his face towards yours, kissing his lips.

You took a moment to run your hands over his body, the black compression shirt that he wire doing wonders for him. It always drove you crazy.

"Hey, baby," he kissed you back, dropping the bags gently on the floor giving his hands space to grab at your ass. "You been good?"

"Mhm," you answered, letting your nails scratch gently at the back of his neck. That always did the trick. You looked down at the puppy by your feet, breaking away to pick him up. He was getting heavier as each day went by.

You held him up to Smoke's face. "Say hi to your son, Elijah."

"That ugly ass thing ain't my son," he kissed his teeth, waving you off as he started moving the bags into the living room.

Laughing, you carried your puppy to its playpen, giving you snd Smoke some peace of mind for now.

You came back to find him emptying his pocket contents on the coffee table: gun, wallet, keys, and stacks of money. Instead of putting the money on the table with the rest of his stuff, he walked over to you.

He pulled the strap of the tank top that you wore, using it to tuck the money into your bra.

"What's this for?" you smiled, looking up at him. He was always giving you money randomly, various amounts for various reasons.

"For looking pretty," he kissed your cheek. "That's for you too," he nodded his head towards all the shopping bags that he brought in.

Your eyes followed to the bags, feeling so much appreciation overwhelm you. Smoke's love languages were most definitely gift giving and acts of service; he would use any and every opportunity to spoil you, but the minute you bought anything for him, he'd be telling you off for spending your money on him.

"You didn't have to," you pouted, sitting on his lap as you kissed all over his face. "You spoil me too much, I don't even have space for it all."

"I don't spoil you enough," He mumbled, kissing you back. "Come on, do your lil' try on thing you always do for me." He tapped the back of your thigh.

You giggled, "You mean a haul?"

"Yeah, that."

And that you did. Smoke had gotten you bags, clothes, lingerie, new makeup products... things you already had but according to him, could never have enough of.

You tried on each item, except for the lingerie. You said you wanted to surprise him with it another day, and he wasn't complaining.

At the end of your haul, Smoke helped you put everything away, making a comment to himself about having to expand your walk in wardrobe.

Now you two lay on the bed, cuddled up as a random show was on the TV. You loved moments like these, when he was yours. Not the rough Smoke that everyone else knew him as, but as your soft and loving boyfriend.

"You good?" Smoke stopped rubbing his hand gently on your body when he noticed you let out a sigh.

"I'm more than good," you smiled dreamily, like you were drunk just off of his affection.

He took your word for it, lifting your body onto his. His hands wrapped around your lower back whilst your chin rested on his chest, looking right at him.

"You know I love you, right?" He said.

"Yeah. I love you too."

Smoke smiled, his large hands squeezing at your ass. "And I love this ass too."

"You can never stay serious, can you?" You laughed, reaching back to move his hands. Instead, he flipped the two of you so he was now on too, your hands pinned on either side of your head.

"You know damn well how serious I can be."

And that you did. There was only a handful of times when Smoke had gotten serious with you, times when he was more Smoke than Elijah with you. One of the things he loved most about you was that you brought out the side of him that didn't immediately resort to violence, the one that still had hope that he could be loved like he once thought.

He leaned down, kissing you gently, softly. You kissed him back, your hand pulling his head even closer, nails grazing over his low cut. He caught a flash of blue as he pulled back from the kiss, removing a hand from your side to look at your hand properly.

"Look at you repping me," he teased you, running his fingers over your nails.

"Had to let 'em know," you shrugged.

"Damn straight," he mumbled against your lips. He could never get enough of you, you were like a drug to him.

He kissed from your lips down your neck, to your collarbone, nipping and sucking as he went. He loved marking you, you don't know when it started but you knew sure as hell it wasn't gonna stop.

Smoke let his runs run all over you, until you tugged at his shirt, frowning. "Why you poutin', baby?" He tilted his head, knowing the answer but wanting to drag it out of you.

"Take it off," you said.

"Yes ma'am."

As he pulled his shirt off, you watched on, smiling at your man's toned body. You let your hands rake over his abs as he leaned back down to you. "Your turn," he tapped your side.

You sat up a bit, pulling down the straps of your tank top before taking it off, no bra underneath. Smoke wasted no time, latching onto your breasts before you could even lay back down.

You let out a loud moan, like you haven't felt his touch in ages. Whilst he worked on your breasts, sucking and biting, he let his hand slide inside the shorts you wore, grazing over your clothed pussy. He could feel how wet you were just from a few touches.

"Fat ma missed me, huh?" he joked. You kissed your teeth, groaning as he rubbed gently.

"Elijah... do something," you moaned.

"Aight, baby, lift up for me." he took your shorts off when you lifted your hips, along with your panties. He settled in between your legs, lying down so he was face to face with your seeping pussy. He looked at you, knowing he was absolutely about to devour you.

The first lick had you throwing your head back, your thighs immediately closing around Smoke's head. If he could've died right then, he would've died a very happy man.

As he licked up and down, sucking your clit, you writhed underneath him, struggling to stay still with how he was doing you.

He gripped your hips, forcing you to stay in one spot. "If you keep moving, I'ma stop." he mumbled with his lips still on you, sending vibrations through your body.

You nodded, knowing he was dead serious about that. One thing about sex with Smoke? The overstimulation was real.

He continued to lick bold stripes up and down your fold, kissing at deeply as he went. You could feel that coil deep in you about to snap, your whimpers and moans getting louder as Smoke used his fingers to rub your clit.

"Fuck, baby, I'm almost─── Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" you moaned as you came, but Smoke still didn't let up, lapping up all your juices as you rode out your high.

You panted, trying to push his head away, already feeling like you could tap out. But when he looked at you, his moustache and goatee coated in your cum, you knew this was only the start.

"You boutta tap out on me? Hm?" he asked.

You shook your head, guiding him back to your folds. You felt his smirk on you, his lips going back to doing what they did best.

You always did love when he came home to you.

[lazysoulwriter]

three in this bed - pedro pascal ── .✦

content: fluff, softness, established relationship, reader has a stuffed animal from childhood, and Pedro is absolutely smitten about it.

---

You didn’t mean for him to see it.

It was supposed to stay tucked under the pillow, safely hidden from the eyes of the world—especially his. But after your weekend trip, you were exhausted and distracted, pulling off your sweater and tossing yourself into bed with an ungraceful thud, forgetting entirely about your tiny, timeworn secret.

Pedro walked in just a minute later. You didn't even notice, too busy mumbling about your sore back and the shitty car ride and how next time he was driving. He chuckled softly, then went quiet.

"Baby," he said, and you froze. You knew that tone. That gently surprised, amused one.

You turned your head slowly.

He was holding it. The stuffed animal. Your oldest friend. A floppy, beige bunny with one ear permanently bent and a pink bow you sewed on when you were eight. Worn down to near transparency in some places, eyes a little lopsided.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pedro looked down at it with something like wonder. Like he just found the last piece of a puzzle he didn’t know he was missing.

"You've had this since you were little?"

You sat up, groaning internally. "Okay, yes, but—don’t tease me."

He didn’t. He walked over slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, still holding the bunny carefully, like it was made of glass.

“What’s her name?” he asked, totally serious.

“…Bun,” you muttered, hiding your face in your hands.

“Bun?” he repeated, smiling now, clearly trying not to laugh. “Bun. That’s adorable.”

“She’s been through a lot,” you mumbled. “I’ve had her since I was, like, four. She helped me sleep. I still—sometimes—sleep better when she’s around.”

Pedro didn’t say anything right away. When you peeked at him through your fingers, he was looking at you like you just told him you still believed in magic. He reached over, gently moving your hands away from your face.

“Mi amor, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, voice low, filled with warmth. “Are you kidding me? You think I’m gonna tease you for this?”

You didn’t answer, still too flustered.

He leaned in, nuzzled your cheek with his scruffy jaw. “I love that you kept her. I love that she’s been with you through everything. And now she sleeps next to me too, huh?”

You let out a weak laugh, melting. “Shut up.”

“Never.” He kissed your temple. “Can we make it official? She gets a spot between us now?”

“Pedro—”

He was already climbing into bed, placing Bun on your pillow with exaggerated care. Then he pulled you into his arms, sighing as if everything had just clicked into place.

“That’s better,” he whispered. “Me, you, and Bun. The dream team.”

You giggled into his chest. And that night, like so many nights before, you slept soundly with your stuffed animal in your arms—but this time, with Pedro wrapped around you too.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @joelmillerpascal @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure@barnes70stark @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512 @alltounwell @libbyaller @beaagiannelli @broad-shouldrs @oceanmcu @kysosa @melloispunk @jollycupcakeblizzard @angvlicsoulll @needz1nk @daddypascal17 @agustdpeach @mrsbilicablog @k4t13ispunk @hotdadlvr95 @lnnysnts @pedropascalfan221 @queenofklonnie22 @christinamadsen @ilovecheriies @stvr-bloom

---

[briarscreek]

task force 141 with a missing smart ass american informant

they hadn’t heard from you in days. it was starting to affect their performance a little bit. not drastically but they sometimes called out to you on comms out of reflex. it stung every time you didn’t answer.

after a particularly rough house clearing, they found an old floppy disk with the title play me. how original.

gaz popped it in on his laptop and proceeded to let it play on the large monitor in front of them.

“hey boys, miss me?” fucking graves.

“i think i got something y’all would like back.”

he reaches from off the side of the screen to grab a person tied up and gagged.

“who’s—“

graves snaps his fingers as if he had a lightbulb moment.

“oh right, y’all wouldn’t know them by sight. lemme—“

the gag is untied from the person’s mouth.

“say hi, darlin’”

“get fucked, dickhead”

you then launched your head towards graves, promptly cracking his nose. he yelped as he pinched his face.

yup that’s their american alright.

“god darlin’ i haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

“you interrupted my self care night, i was mid exfoliation when your jockies showed up. that was reason enough”

he then roughly pushed you out of the frame and looked straight in to the camera.

“better come get them or else i’ll kill them myself”

yea, doesn’t sound like you got a lot of time left. best to get going to find you, double time.

<<PREVIOUS

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[toovaeloe]

curse biologist!reader x assistant!gojo hc’s

content: gojo pining off his ass . little flirty lab partners . tw for sliiighhtest mention of an autopsy and related tools . warning for gojo poppin’ a stiff one in the lab cause he’s a freak like that (ur a freak like that), so mildly suggestive

mdni

curse biologist!reader— the higher ups want you dead and gone, that’s for sure. You, who has a cursed technique that turns cursed energy into something tangible. After applying your technique to a cursed spirit, it becomes visible to a naked human eye, and instead of disintegrating, leaves a corpse behind. You’re dangerous. Crazy. And well…too weird. But they just hate progress, don’t they?

Not Gojo. He really doesn’t think you’re doing any harm to be honest (and he’ll do just about anything if it creases another wrinkle into Gakuganji’s ugly mug)

I mean, who else has been able to make waves in the integration of curses into science like you have? You’ve uncovered an exponential amount about the inner workings of curses in a few years when the rest of Jujutsu society’s had centuries, only to scratch the surface. It’s really admirable how you deep dive into the nitty gritty, as he calls it.

assistant!gojo— who loves being your little go-getter. Your own personal cursed spirit Fetch-Fido— maybe if you squint hard enough you’ll be able to see floppy ears perked to attention in his snowy hair or an eager tail whipping up a hurricane behind him as he brings you back his latest catch: a detained grade 2 curse manifested by the fear of monsters under the bed. Yeah, he knew you’d like something like that.

assistant!gojo— loves witnessing the way your eyes light up and it’s as if he can see the cogs immediately gearing to life in your smart little brain. He’s saluting exaggeratedly with a puffed out chest when you give him the go ahead to kill the thing after you’ve had your hand at it. It’s all he can do not to ask for a pat on the head and praise of how well he did. Getting a “Good boy,” out of you is on his mental vision board.

assistant!gojo— sticks around for the autopsies. Likes watching you poke around inside the creatures and is waiting on your hand and foot through the entire process. Scalpel? Bone saw? Enterotomy scissors? The bread knife??? He’s even starting to become attuned to your whims, tool already in hand before you extend your palm.

If you murmured an awed, “look at thaaat,” he’s quick to huddle in close under the pretense of observing whatever oddity that’s intrigued you. Only to squish his cheek against yours with a feigned, “hmm…mhmm…” nodding stiltedly, and not so discreetly nuzzling his face closer to yours with an impish glint in those azure eyes as he casts a sidelong glance to your skeptical neutrality.

assistant!gojo— staring at you with the widest puppy dog eyes as you discard your gloves and begin sketching diagrams of the latest brain you’ve picked apart, comparing it to the contradicting one of another curse, and contrasting from the drastically different human model you have. He can listen to you babble for hours, if only absorbing every other word of your theories on why a curse’s blood runs violet or how you’re so excited to get these samples to the lab. He’ll still chip in with his own question or hypothesis from time to time, because he’s curious too, but more than that he loves the way you answer.

assistant!gojo— purposely uses candy and sweets as a metaphor whenever you plead with him to explain how he views the electromagnetic spectrum through those eyes of his, just because he thinks it’s funny how desperate you are to know. To this day you can’t decode however the fuck that analogy about laffy taffy and rock candy was supposed to relate to infrared waves.

assistant!gojo— Satoru can’t decide what’s worse; the fact that he can’t get you out of his head or the fact that you want inside of his head

This whole situation is basically him giving you googoo eyes and kissy faces as you scribble down something on your clipboard and try to stick him with a needle

assistant!gojo— who’s willing to be a bit of a lab rat for you. He’s all giggles as he prances up to your vertical operation table, huffing lightly when you strap him against the cool steel. “Don’t be shy now, y’could go tighter than that. You know I like it when you tie me up,,” he encourages oh so unhelpfully.

assistant!gojo— chiding you to be careful when you begin application of the biosensors across his chest, cause he’ll get “a little too excited.” You don’t pay mind to his little quip until you see his already irregularly R-R intervals spike impossibly short on the electrocardiogram readings. And then again as you finish hooking him up to the machine.

assistant!gojo— thinks you might be overthinking what environmental stimuli might have caused that anomaly, or maybe judging by that poorly veiled smile and half-hearted “My mistake,” you’ve purposefully placed that one sensor node a little too low on his pelvis this time. Now that he’s thinkin’ about— yeah—there definitely wasn’t any need for you crouch so low until your nose was practically level with the apex of his thigh. Or for you to look up at him in a way that had him failing to suppress a shiver and his breath hitching when you smoothly rubbed the padding of the damn thing into his hip with your thumb. Aaaand fuck, he’s bricked in the lab. (again.)

He’d kill to know what’s going on in your noggin. And frankly he’s dying to get the pants off his fave smartypants.

a/n: as soon as I got this idea i was like ooo biting my lip and bigbig smile,, onto something? am I onto something??? would anybody maybemaybe read a one shot with this concept 👀? okay I love you byyyee

[msmk11]

James Potter x afab!reader (blurb)

Cw: reader is pregnant and emotional; james is a coddler; one mention of pregnancy induced nausea

Summary: your hormones get the best of you when james gets a haircut

You’re leaning back against the couch, hand running over your swollen bump, and fan blowing softly on you as you absentmindedly watch whatever is playing on tv. You don’t really know what’s happening on screen because you keep dozing off. This far along in your pregnancy, you’re too heavy to get much of a good nights rest. And, god love him, your husband doesn’t often leave you alone long enough during the day to nap. He’s been anxious since the day the test had two lines, but his worrying has worsened with time. You don’t mind it mostly- knowing it kills him that he can’t do more to help with the nausea or aches and pains that come with the gig. Yet, you’re thrilled for the hour or so of silence promised to you this Saturday afternoon while James goes out to run some errands. You sip on a glass of lemonade you fixed yourself and the baby kicks. He or she is a fan of the sugary drink and has caused you to crave it almost constantly. You’ve never had so much of it in your life.

You hear the front door swing open and the lovely baritone of your husband’s voice, “don’t even think about getting up!” He calls out, “I’ll come to you!”

“I can get up and walk,” you answer back with a huff, “I’m not immobile.”

His socked feet pad down the hall quickly as he emerges in the living room, “no! No! Don’t do that!”

Any other time you’d offer some sarcastic remark in return that he’d brush off with a laugh, but this time you can’t. Your eyes are fixated on something else, “your hair…”

James’ eyebrows raise and he looks up, as if he can see the curls on his head. He gives you a handsome smile, “oh yeah! I got a haircut while I was out cause it was getting too long for the summer weather.”

It’s certainly still floppy, but shorter on all edges. While before he’d need a headband for his morning runs, and you could even give him small pigtails, you’re certain now there’s no need for either. Your eyes fill with tears and James’ face falls.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Your husband rushes towards you, concern etched on his face as he cups your cheeks.

You sniffle and then the dam breaks, fat tears spilling down your swollen cheeks, “you cut your hair!” You wail pathetically.

He looks a bit bewildered at this and says your name so sugary sweet, “it’ll grow back, sweetheart!”

“But it was so long and pretty and- and” you hiccup, choking on another sob, “now it’s short!!!”

James tries not to laugh at the fact that you’re crying over his hair. He knows it’s just your hormones making you act this way, and he won’t mention it or tease you about it. It’d only make you more upset.

“And- Jamie- now I can’t put it in pigtails and- and- you can’t wear that headband I got you and-“

He melts even more and rubs his hand over your bump, pressing his lips to your slightly sweaty hairline, “sweetheart, you can still play with my hair, and I’ll still wear the headband all the time, I promise. I just don’t wanna be too hot in the summer. And I wanna see you, hm? My hair was getting so long I could barely see your pretty face.”

This calms you down a little and your sniffling slows. Your eyes are wide like a baby deer’s and shiny with unshed tears, “really?”

James kisses your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips, and then your bump, “I promise, baby. And you know me, my hair grows fast.”

You nod and swallow, much calmer than before, “okay.”

You say it so meekly and James can’t help but tease you a little, mimicking your ‘okay.’ It makes you giggle and your husband’s face lights up, eyes twinkling with affection, “love you so much sweetheart.”

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, “now why don’t I refill this lemonade and then I can rub your feet while we put on your favorite movie.”

[starconchs]

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: even after you leave the jujutsu world behind, gojo satoru finds himself unable to get over you. genre: fluff! some angst but happy ending, friends to lovers notes: inspired by the song "haunt me (x3)" by teen suicide, gojo is awful at realizing his own feelings and dealing with them wc: ~4.8k

the day that you leave tokyo jujutsu tech is a dull one.

gojo think this must've been months in the planning, especially considering the fact that you're standing with nothing but a backpack slung over your shoulder with the rest of your belongings nowhere to be seen.

(he later learns that they had already been moved to your new apartment, and nanami and shoko had helped you move out over the course of a month.)

he also discovers that he's the only one that hasn't been informed of your departure, especially since he seems to be the only one taken by surprise as you stand by the entrance and say your goodbyes. he wonders if it's his fault for taking so many missions after geto's defection, and he feels his stomach lurch uncomfortably when he realizes that he's been so distracted that he once again couldn't see something happening with one of his friends.

and now you're leaving.

"you have to promise to visit," shoko says, engulfing you in a tight hug. gojo feels his mouth run dry at the sight, and he can't help but feel panicked when you give shoko a soft grin.

"i'll certainly do my best," you respond, reaching over to tug on her hair. she sighs in return, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you gently as she stares you down.

"answer your phone, ok? you can't ignore my texts now that you're leaving."

a quiet laugh leaves your lips at her words, and you nod reassuringly before giving her a loud smooch on the cheek and moving down the line. gojo watches you closely as you say your goodbye to yaga, the older man turning away from you to brush a fake tear away from his eye. he presses a soft, floppy doll into your hands before you move away from him, and gojo can see the distinct shine in your eye that lets him know that you're holding tears at bay.

he looks down at the ground when he realizes that he's the only one left for you to say goodbye to, and he can't help the way he tenses up when he sees your shoes come to a stop in front of him. there's a moment of silence during which gojo can feel everyone's eyes on him, and he begrudgingly looks up at you and removes his sunglasses.

if this is the last time he's seeing you, he's going to make sure he remembers every little detail.

there's a sharp intake of breath as you steadily meet his gaze, and you find yourself rendered speechless at the sight of his eyes. gojo can hear shoko cough lightly, and he steels himself before giving you a forced smile.

"so you're leaving," he whispers, his eyes widening slightly when he realizes what he's just said. you seem to be caught off guard as well, eyebrows raising in surprise before giving him a nod. he takes a moment to breathe, aware of shoko's lingering gaze as the two of you face each other. "oh. i didn't know."

"yeah," you breathe, rubbing your arm as you look away from him. "i hadn't gotten the chance to tell you. it seems like you're always off on a mission these days."

"you could've texted," gojo attempts to say jokingly, wincing when his words fall flat. you laugh lightly at his words, recognizing the teasing undertone even if the delivery had been less than perfect. you always seem to understand gojo, regardless of whether or not he wants you to.

"we both know you never look at your phone," you tease back, giving him a pretty smile that he hasn't seen in a while. he chuckles breathlessly at your jab, and he nods his agreement before glancing at shoko.

"neither do you," he shoots back, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile when you follow his line of sight. "you gotta get better at that. can't risk pissing shoko off."

the space between the two of you is filled with uncertain laughter at gojo's remark, and you take a moment to study gojo before taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. he stumbles back a step or two at your sudden action, tensing up when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.

"i'll miss you," you whisper, your breath warm against his neck. he tries to ignore the goosebumps that rise up along the smooth expanse of his neck, too focused on wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him when he feels you start to step away.

gojo knows that everyone else is watching the two of you, he can feel shoko's soft gaze and yaga's sad look as he does his best to ignore them and bury his face into your hair. there's an intense urge to ask you to stay building up inside of him, and he clamps his lips shut tightly in order to keep himself from blurting out his plea. the two of you remain in each other's arms before you finally take a deep breath and step away, giving gojo a watery smile.

"i'll miss you, satoru," you whisper, looking away and blinking back your tears. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

gojo nods dumbly as you finally walk away, giving everyone one last wave before slipping into the car that's been waiting for you this entire time. it isn't until he sees it disappear from view that gojo realizes that he didn't tell you that he would miss you too.

he wastes no time in slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, clearing his throat quietly before turning and making his way back inside the building.

a week later, gojo hears that nanami has left jujutsu tech as well, and he can't help but wonder if he'll ever see either of you again.

gojo likes to think that he's matured, even though shoko might say otherwise because she's certain she's right. and also to piss him off.

but the truth is, he's no longer the same spunky, reckless teenager he was before everything went wrong in his life. he knows how to sort of work through his emotions now— in a way he thinks is healthy, he might add, but he can't help but find himself frozen in this very moment. there's a weird ache in his heart, one that he silently notes seems to be brought on by the flurry of emotions he's feeling in that very instant.

he wonders if they're visible on his face. they are.

gojo satoru is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in japan, maybe even in the world, and yet he feels like he's been reduced to almost nothing when a familiar face slides into the seat across from him.

five years is clearly not long enough to forget you, gojo realizes, physically wincing at the way his heart seems to race at the sight of you. his eyes meet yours, and he holds steady eye contact with you for a few seconds before ducking his head and quietly excusing himself from the table.

he takes a deep breath to attempt and soothe his rattled nerves as he takes a seat at the bar, squishing himself into the corner so that he's not visible from your table. he orders a soda from the bartender, ignoring the disbelieving look he gets in return before he ambles off to prepare the drink.

gojo has barely taken a sip of the soda before shoko is crashing into his side, settling onto the barstool next to him and digging her elbow into his side as she calls her order out to the bartender. neither of them speak until shoko gets her drink, and she immediately lifts it to her lips and takes a big sip that makes gojo shudder with disgust.

"surprise," shoko says dryly, glancing at gojo as he spares a look in your direction. he notices three extra people at the table, and he lets his shoulders drop in relief when he sees familiar heads of blond, white, and brunette.

"yeah, quite the surprise," gojo huffs, taking another sip of his soda. he stares at shoko until she turns to face him, a mildly displeased look on her face as she takes in his furrowed eyebrows. "i didn't know you still kept in contact with them."

"i didn't know you didn't still keep in contact with them," shoko shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she studies gojo's conflicted expression. she continues before he can gather his thoughts, earning a loud sigh as she speaks. "you kept in contact with nanami just fine. in fact, all he does is complain about how you never leave him alone."

gojo swallows harshly at shoko's words, and he thinks long and hard before deciding to remain silent for the time being. he can't find it in himself to admit that the thought of reaching out to you hurts him more than he cares to admit. you had left the jujutsu world, the one part of your life that included him, behind. even if he wanted to, gojo doesn't think he can find the words to express how he's feeling.

"switch seats with me when we get back to the table," gojo says suddenly, pausing to slurp up the rest of his drink. shoko glares at him when he sucks on nothing but air, the obnoxious sound causing her to reach over and flick him in the cheek. gojo grins widely when she hits nothing but air, his infinity protecting him from shoko's incredibly violent wrath.

"no," she says, getting off her barstool and picking up her drink. gojo realizes too late that she's heading back to the table, and he scrambles after her in an attempt to get there before her. his attempts are fruitless, and he finds himself awkwardly standing behind shoko's seat as she takes her place two chairs down from you.

gojo acts normal when everyone turns to glance at him, and he stiffly makes his way back to his own seat, avoiding your questioning gaze as he sits down. it takes a second for the table to break out into chatter again, and gojo doesn't hesitate before turning to the seat next to him and striking up a conversation with utahime. he notices mei mei grab your attention out of the corner of his eye, and he can't help but sigh in relief as he focuses on utahime once again, disregarding her annoyed look.

gojo is certain that ignoring you is much easier than dealing with whatever the hell is causing him to feel like he's dying inside.

the days that follow the dinner at the restaurant are unnervingly quiet, and gojo finds himself sitting on his couch and wondering if he should reach out to you.

there are no missions to take at the moment, and gojo is left with nothing to do but stare at his phone and wait for a message that never comes. megumi takes note of his sullen behavior, and although a part of him is curious about gojo's sudden attitude change, he doesn't think he actually cares enough to ask the white-haired sorcerer about what seems to be bothering him.

a few more days pass before gojo ultimately decides that reaching out to you would do more harm than good, especially with the way he completely ignored you at dinner. he's given no time to even think about changing his mind, and the very next day, he's being sent out on yet another mission.

he eventually falls into the same monotonous routine his life had prior to his run-in with you, and he wonders what would've changed if he had decided to take the chance and reach out the day after seeing you. there's a dull ache in his chest that seems to linger even after he makes his decision, and it only seems to get worse whenever shoko deigns to share updates about you with him.

the two of them know that gojo is more than grateful for her updates, even if he refuses to ask about you outright. he's certain that if he were to fully give into his curiosity that his heart would feel like it's giving out on him, and not even shoko's displeased looks are enough for him to get over himself and just ask you directly. he's even stopped pestering nanami, too afraid that he would give in and ask him questions about you.

it isn't until a long time passes (a year and a half; he's kept count) that gojo thinks he's finally getting over it— getting over you. his heart finally starts feeling lighter and breathing becomes a little bit easier and he can't help but think about how silly he was being, staying hung up for so long on somebody who probably never even thought twice about him.

they're small improvements but they're still improvements, and gojo reminds himself of that even as he walks down the busy streets of tokyo. he breathes out a sigh of relief as he slips into the local pharmacy, the cool air conditioning a welcome reprieve from the sticky heat outside.

he mumbles to himself as he moves through the aisles, scanning the shelves as he looks for children's allergy medication. the sudden weather changes had affected megumi and tsumiki in a way none of them had expected, and gojo was left alone to deal with their pitiful sniffles and soft complaints.

"allergy meds," he whispers, reaching out to grab a box only to put it back when it's not the one he's looking for. "there's so much cough syrup, where's the aller—"

"gojo?"

so maybe he hasn't improved, gojo thinks to himself as he freezes up at the sound of your voice. he holds his breath as you approach him, and he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your sleeve brush against his.

six and a half years isn't enough to forget about you either, it seems.

"it's been a while, huh?" you ask, giving him a soft glance before looking at the shelves in front of you. there's a light hum that escapes your lips as you bend down to grab something before straightening up and holding out a box in your hand. "allergy meds, right?"

gojo nods silently as he takes the box from you, quickly scanning the text on it to make sure it was the right brand. there's an awkward silence as he thinks about what to say, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind when you turn your face away from him.

"it's not for me!"

a noise that gojo thinks might be a giggle leaves your lips at his proclamation, and he mentally kicks himself for starting up a conversation with you.

"it's for megumi, right?" you ask softly, unaware of the way gojo's eyes widen at your question. "that zenin kid you took in?"

when you notice gojo's shocked look, you hastily ass onto your statement. "shoko told me about him when i asked about you."

'shoko told me about him when i asked about you.'

gojo thinks he feels his head spin when he hears those words come out of your mind. he does his best to remain calm, reaching out a hand to lean against the shelf comfortably and wincing when he instead knocks down a row of the cough syrups he had been studying earlier.

"uh, fushiguro, actually," he mutters, doing his best to focus on straightening out the products he knocked down. "his dad took his wife's last name or something like that. but yeah, the medicine is for him and his sister."

he finds himself shuffling awkwardly as you look down at your watch, eyes widening slightly when you take note of the time. he watches as you turn to face the shelf behind you, quickly plucking some eye drops off the shelf before turning back to him.

"i have to go, i'm running late for a meeting," you say sheepishly, giving gojo a soft smile. he gives you a half-smile in return, accompanied by a lazy wave as he waits for you to leave. you stand in front of him for a second, hesitating slightly before leaning in and wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. gojo tenses up in your embrace, his breath catching in his throat and hands freezing mid-air before he hesitantly places them on your back. you pull back slightly after a few seconds, looking up at gojo with a stare that makes his heart feel like it's about to beat out of his chest before you address him once more. "it was nice to see you. we should catch up sometime."

you're gone with a smile and a wave, quickly paying for your eye drops before darting out the door. gojo remains in his spot for five minutes after your departure, only moving when he sees the amused look the cashier seems to be giving him. he doesn't speak as he pays for the allergy medication, and he hastily makes his exit back into the stifling heat. he starts walking down the street as he tucks his change into his pocket, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when his fingers brush against a piece of paper that hadn't bee there before.

there's an annoyed grumble from a passerby when gojo suddenly stops in the middle of the street, his fingers clutching onto the paper that contains very familiar handwriting.

'can't wait to see you again! :)'

the line is followed by what he assumes to be your phone number, and gojo can't help but wonder when you had the chance to write the note. he begins moving down the street again, his steps sluggish as he hesitates near a trash can. before he can think any harder, he lets the paper flutter into wastebasket, only pausing for a brief second before moving away.

not seeing you over the past year and a half made his heart feel lighter, yet all it took was a five minute interaction with you to make his heart feel worse than it ever had before.

the world loves to play cruel jokes on him, gojo thinks.

the past two years have been a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty, and he's had no time to stop and think about you while dealing with geto, sukuna, and the emergence of the cursed spirit that calls itself mahito.

if he really thinks about it, he's had no time to sit and rest. from geto's attack to yuuta's training to megumi's missions to yuuji's interesting choice that led to him eating sukuna's finger, he's had no time to sit and truly enjoy the little things life has to offer.

(not that he's ever had the time. the life of a special grade sorcerer is a busy one, but gojo can't deny that things weren't always as complicated as they have been the last couple of years.)

so when yaga tells him that nanami is returning to jujutsu tech, gojo thinks that it's the perfect time to let yuuji learn from someone other than him while he takes care of some unfinished business. what he doesn't expect however, is to see you standing next to nanami, a pretty smile on your face as you greet yaga with a hug.

ten years. ten years and somehow, you still manage to make gojo feel the same way he did way back then.

there's something wrong with him, he thinks, especially because it's starting to seem like he's cursed to always somehow coexist with those he cares about without ever fully being a part of their lives. there's no way he can turn around and pretend he never saw you, not with the way yaga is already yelling at him to go over and greet the returners.

gojo wonders why this happens every time he sees you. he doesn't know how to label what he feels whenever you pop up in his life, and it isn't until you give him a hesitant greeting— your tone shy and awkward after receiving nothing but radio silence from him— that gojo thinks he might finally know what it is he feels for you.

and when the thought of him being in love with you crosses his mind and makes him feel like he wants to die, all he can do is tamp down his swirling emotions with a goofy grin aimed at nanami.

"nanami! what a pleasure to see you here," gojo sings, immediately pulling the blond man into a reluctant hug. he gives you a polite nod in greeting, and he can't help the way his heart sinks when you nod in response and look away.

"likewise," nanami replies, his tone strained as he pulls away from gojo. he fixes his shirt as he steps over to you, and the two of you stand silently as you wait for yaga to speak.

"introduce them to yuuji," yaga says, turning around and heading back towards his office. "and don't cause trouble. i mean it, satoru."

gojo giggles at yaga's words before clapping his hands and motioning for the two of you to follow after him, leading you down a series of hallways before you come to a stop in front of an empty room.

"yuuji! there's someone i'd like you to meet!"

you're taken slightly aback when your eyes meet bright, brown ones, and you can't help but stare as a teenage boy with pink hair comes to a stop in front of you and nanami.

"this is nanami kento!" gojo all but yells, once again slinging his arm around nanami's shoulders and swaying him back and forth. the boy, yuuji, looks at nanami curiously, his eyes focused on the glasses perched on his nose. he has no time to speak before gojo is introducing you as well, his voice softer than it had been when introducing nanami. yuuji's eyes sparkle as they shift to you, and all of a sudden he's breaking out into a boyish smile that only serves to remind you just how young he really is.

"woah! i didn't think you were actually real!" he proclaims, earning a strained laugh from gojo. "when gojo mentioned you he said you were really p—"

the rest of his words are muffled, gojo's hands clamped tightly against his mouth as he pulls yuuji away from you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see nanami staring at you, and you only give him a shrug in return as gojo pats yuuji's head and lets him go.

"you'll be following them around on missions," gojo finally explains, pushing yuuji towards you and nanami. "they're both grade 1 sorcerers so don't worry, you'll be safe! now if you'll excuse me, i have to go."

gojo's out of the room before either of you can breathe out a goodbye, and you tense for a second before excusing yourself and following after him. he hasn't gotten terribly far, but his long legs give him the advantage of staying ahead of you even as you start jogging lightly in an attempt to catch up to him.

"gojo!" you call out, huffing lightly when he ignores you and turns a corner. "hey! gojo, wait! satoru!"

the sounds of his given name has his steps faltering, and he reluctantly turns around when he hears your footsteps getting closer and closer. there's a rigidity to his stance that you've never seen, his shoulders hunched in an almost defensive way as you finally come to a stop in front of him.

"yeah?" he asks, an uncomfortable grin settling on his lips as he looks anywhere but you. he's grateful for his blindfold in this very moment, the dark fabric preventing him from seeing you in your entirety and preventing you from seeing the way he can't seem to look at you for more than half a second.

"i—," you say, starting to speak and cutting yourself off before looking down at the ground. you sigh softly, shaking your head lightly as your shoulders slump. "never mind. forget about it."

you turn to walk back to the room, and gojo feels like he might actually keel over and die right then and there if he lets you walk away yet again.

"how have you been?"

gojo's question hangs in the air, and he can't help but flinch when you finally look at him again, your eyes swirling with hurt and sadness and other emotions that pass so quickly that gojo isn't sure he could figure out what they were even if he tried.

"you'd know if you hadn't thrown my phone number away," you retort quietly, crossing your arms as he approaches you. gojo breathes in sharply at your words but remains quiet, his throat going dry as he realizes that you had seen what he did that day. "why, gojo?"

gojo weighs his options, vacillating between telling you the truth or spewing a lie. the words seem to spill out of his mouth before he can even think about whether or not to say them, a trend he notices is extremely common whenever he's in your presence. "because you've ruined my life."

okay, so the truth it is.

your eyes widen in hurt when you take in his words, and it takes everything you have to not burst into tears on the spot. "oh, i see."

"wait," gojo says, scrambling to fix the situation that just keeps getting worse and worse with everything he says or does. "that's not what i meant."

"then what did you mean?" you ask sharply, your eyes narrowing slightly as you stare him down.

"what i mean is that i think i love you," he says in a rush, ignoring the way your eyes widen in surprise at his admission. he doesn't give you the chance to respond, too focused on saying everything that's been building up for the past decade before he gets cold feet. "you've ruined my life, you know? it's been ten years but it's damn near impossible to get over you. my heart still feels as heavy as it did the day you let, maybe even heavier, and i threw away your number because i didn't see any benefit in reaching out to you. why would i torture myself by keeping in contact with you when i belong to the world you wanted to leave behind?"

"i wanted to leave the jujutsu world behind," you interject softly, taking a hesitant step towards gojo before coming to a stop. "that doesn't mean i wanted to leave gojo satoru behind."

"oh," gojo breathes. he wonders if you can hear how loud his heart is beating in his chest, and he decides that maybe he doesn't care. "does that mean that—"

"i liked you?" you interrupt, nodding your head softly. "or like, i guess. i agree, ten years isn't enough to get over you."

"i was talking about you," gojo mumbles dumbly, earning a shrug in response from you. a loud crash sounds from the direction of the room you had left nanami in, and you give gojo a hesitant look before motioning in the direction of the noise.

"i should probably go and check that out," you say quietly, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips. "y'know, make sure that nanami is okay."

"um, yeah. yeah that sounds reasonable," gojo says, his mind still focused on your impromptu confession.

"i don't think this conversation is over yet," you continue, breathing out a laugh when gojo nods in agreement. he jumps slightly when you take his hand in yours, slipping a piece of paper into in before tugging him down to press a kiss to his cheek. "let me know when you're free, yeah? maybe we can get dinner or something and talk."

"are you asking me out on a date?" he asks cheekily, doing his best to compose himself.

"maybe i am," you say slyly, squeezing his hand once before letting go. you turn to walk down the hall, only pausing to look at him over your shoulder once before you turn the corner. "don't lose my number this time, okay?"

gojo chuckles at your words, nodding in agreement as he gives you a lazy salute. "i wouldn't dream of it."

it isn't until you're out of sight that gojo realizes his heart feels the lightest that it's ever felt in years, and he finds himself once again wondering when you had gotten the chance to write the note.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

[lnfours]

Hi!!!

“Are you wearing my sweater?” Prompt 🥹 NEED this kind of fluff in my life. Like Lando stops by readers house to see her and she answers the door wearing his hoodie 😭ugh I can’t it’s making me MELT

anon, i don't think you understand when i say that i'm obsessed with this!!

jordan's birthday sleepover!

ever since you lando had started dating, you made it a routine that every thursday night was date night. even when he was in a different country, the two of you managed to watch a movie together while on facetime.

tonight was like every other thursday night, it was date night. your living room was set up, drinks and the snacks you had picked up at the grocery store sitting on the coffee table with a candle lit in the middle.

a knock on the door made you smile, running over to open the door. when you did, you were met with floppy brown curls and gorgeous eyes, a takeout bag in his hand as he smiled at you.

"hi," his smile was so contagious, making you smile back so wide you were sure your cheeks were going to hurt if you kept smiling.

"hi," you said, stepping aside to let him inside. he placed a kiss on your lips as he entered, the hand that wasn't holding the bag of food resting on your hip.

"are you wearing my sweater?"

you looked down, the black material wrapped around your frame. it was a tad too big, the hem of the hoodie falling at your mid-thigh and almost passing the hem of your shorts. a mclaren logo sat on the upper right side of your chest.

you shrugged, smiling as you looked back up at him, "huh, i guess so,"

"i was wondering where that went," he said, the both of you moving from the entry way and into the living room, "as long as it's in good hands that's all i care about."

"well, you're the one who left it here. what else was i supposed to do with it?" you teased.

he shook his head, laughing softly before continuing, "you look good in my clothes."

"you think?"

he nodded, "defintely. maybe next time you're over you could raid my closet."

it was true, seeing you in his clothes did something for him. made him feel a whole new level of love for you that he didn't think was possible. and if it meant you stealing every single hoodie and every single t-shirt, then so be it.

[zorosangell]

Imagine Katakuri sitting still while his daughters cover him in glitter, nail polish, and hair clips 🎀 Just imagine him having a sweet little bonding moment with his girls

⛥ﾟ・。 fairytale

SECRET BONUS/prequel to pocus -- katakuri is busy playing tea party with his daughters when his two sons attempt to party crash—with a twist. luckily, sir dad is here to save the day.

cw: fluff, comfort, dad katakuri, katakuri is katakuri, the girls are adorable, he is thirty-five, you are thirty-four, soda is eleven, cocoa is eight, the twins are four, chai is two,

"So, tell me, Sir Dad, how goes your work in the Lollipop Court?" Cocoa asked in a British accent, tipping her nose in the air. "I heard you're working on a tough case."

Your large, floppy sun hat—which was entirely too big—sat slightly crooked on her head, shading her face as she took a sip out of her empty, plastic tea cup.

Unsure of what to say, Katakuri hesitated a moment, quickly wracking his brain for something.

He had no idea he worked in the Lollipop Court, much less was currently on a case.

Hell, he didn't even know how Cocoa knew what a court case was.

"It goes... well..." he answered, unsure, as he raised a brow, his two, large fingers completely dwarfing the tiny teacup in their grasp.

"Daddy!" Latte loudly whispered, stealing his attention as she leaned over from her seat next to him, shielding her mouth from her older sister. "You gotta stick your pinky out! S'the tea party rules!"

Glancing down at his hand, he quickly corrected himself, before turning back to her.

"My mistake."

Promptly, Cocoa nodded, before turning to her younger sister.

"Lady Latte, how goes your fashion business?" she asked, fake eating a toy scone. "I must say, I loved your fashion show."

"It goes soooo good!" Latte grinned, her accent coming off more Valley Girl than British. "I just got finished making a new skirt! Look!"

She motioned toward her father, who was sitting in a chair entirely too small for him, his leather-clad knees pressed firmly against his bare chest.

Around his large waist sat an equally large, sparkly, pink tutu, which the young girl had actually managed to sew herself—with your assistance, of course.

"His hair! I did Sir Dad's hair!" Frappe chimed in, excitedly, pointing toward his spiky, pink hair, which was now haphazardly filled with all sorts of flowery clips and blows.

Proudly, Cocoa nodded, taking another "sip" of her tea.

"And, of course, I did a splendid job on his makeup."

Together, the girls' gazes shifted toward his face, where his cheeks were adorned with large, circular blotches of blush and matching pink eye shadow.

His usual neutral expression made him look like he'd rather be anywhere but there, but the girls knew their father and knew that wasn't what he meant by it at all.

"Fantastic jobs, everybody! Let's toast!" Cocoa cheered.

"Yeah!" Frappe and Latte agreed, raising their cups in the air.

But, for a moment, the girls paused, quickly realizing that none of them knew how to actually toast.

"Uhhh... nice work?" Cocoa suggested, unsure.

"Yeah, nice work!" the twins played along.

The four of them happily clinked their glasses together—Katakuri included—promptly taking a large sip.

Expectantly, Latte watched as her father downed his tea, waiting for his commentary.

"Whaddya think, Daddy? Do ya like it?" she whispered, excited. "I made it myself!"

Nodding, he leaned over, giving her soft head pats.

"It's delicious, munchkin," he complimented, heart warming when her eyes turned starry. "You did a very good job."

Cocoa and Frappe hummed in agreement, each pretending to take a bite out of a toy cucumber sandwich.

"I—"

Instantly, Katakuri's haki kicked in, showing him a rather tumultuous future.

'Oh, no.'

"RAH!" Soda exclaimed, bursting into the girls' room with a flourish, beginning the assault on his sisters with his two water guns. "TIME TO CRASH!"

"EEEEEEK!" the girls squealed, putting up their hands in defense as their older brother began to soak them.

Glancing around the room, the boy's eyes went wide when they set sights on his father, all princess-ified.

"Jeez! What the hell did you guys do to Dad?!" he grimaced, genuinely concerned.

"Hey! Sir Dad looks great!" Latte defended with a pout.

"Soda! Cut it out! You're ruining our tea party!" Cocoa whined, brows furrowed as she glared at him.

"And my hair!" Frappe chimed.

"And my dresses!" Latte added.

"Pssh! You call this a party?" he scoffed, a devilish grin curling on his lips. "What kinda crummy party has you sit down the whole time?"

"A tea party!" they all shouted together. "And we're not gonna let you ruin ours!"

With a knowing smirk, Cocoa turned to her younger sisters.

"Girls! Code Tea Cake!" she called out.

Confused, Katakuri raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Code... Tea Cake?'

"Yeah!" the twins exclaimed, promptly flipping over the table as a shield and snatching up their own personalized BB guns from the underside.

"Let's go! Return fire!"

Without hesitation, each of the them began shooting back at their brother, raining a hail of BB pellets in an attempt to ward him off.

"ACK! HEY, NO FAIR!" he exclaimed, ducking behind a huge stuffed bear. "I'M USING WATER! YOU GUYS ARE USING BULLETS!"

"This is what you get for wetting my dress, ya big jerk!" Frappe called, not letting up.

"Get from behind, Mr. Fuzzykins, you coward!" Cocoa barked. "Don't take him down with you!"

Katakuri watched with a certain pang of pride—and a bit of amusement—as his girls defended themselves quite well, having each other's backs without question, and not running off crying like most girls their age would.

They were prepared for an assault—with both formation and weapons—and fearless in their resolve.

It made him hopeful for the strong, independent women they would grow up to be, all thanks to yours and his tutelage.

"ABORT! ABORT! PHASE ONE IS A FAILURE! TIME FOR PHASE TWO!" Soda shouted into his toy walkie-talkie. "CHAI, YOU'RE UP! BRING IN THE SECRET WEAPON!"

Confused, the girls turned to each other, raising a brow.

"Secret weapon?"

Together, they all watched with anticipation as small footsteps began to pad toward the door, before their youngest brother popped out from behind it.

"Weapon!" Chai giggled, toddling into the room as he held the handle of a jump rope, the other end of it seeming to be attached to something.

Katakuri's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

'What the—?'

"Someone help me!" you cried—for pretend, of course—as your youngest son "dragged" you into the room. "I've been captured!"

You were tied up by the rest of the rope, clad in a regal play-gown and toy crown.

"Oh, no! They got Queen Mommy!" the girls exclaimed, their smiles and giggles quite the contrast from their tone.

Play time was getting good.

At the sight, Katakuri let out a small chuckle, brow raising with intrigue.

Sure, he was nothing but a lowly worker in the Lollipop Court, but he had to say... the queen was quite the looker.

"Hold your fire!" Cocoa ordered, pushing down her sister's guns. "We gotta break her free!"

"But Soda's gonna spray us again!" Frappe glared, blowing raspberry at her brother as he peeked from behind the bear, dragging down his eyelid and sticking out his tongue.

"Sir Daddy! You have to save Queen Mommy!" Latte ran up to her father, frantically tugging at his tutu as she giggled. "Hurry!"

Raising a brow, he fought off a smirk, carefully placing his teacup on the ground.

"I thought I was a lawyer in the Lollipop Court?" he asked, feigning confusion.

"Yeah, well, you're a knight, too! Sir Daddy, remember?" she clarified.

"Ohhh, I see," he nodded, slowly standing from his seat. "Then let me get to work."

Quickly, he pulled off his tutu, wiping off the makeup on the back of his arm before shaking out the clips in his hair, returning to his usual, imposing self.

"Hey, no fair! You guys have Dad on your side!" Soda complained, brows furrowed.

"Sucks to suck, ya big jerk!" Cocoa taunted, amused.

"Quick! Chai! Knock her out and retreat!" Soda ordered, getting ready to run away.

Slowly, the toddler turned to his mother, balling up his tiny fist before softly tapping it against her leg.

"Out!" he babbled with a grin.

At his touch, you pretended to flinch, slowly falling backwards.

"Oh, no! I'm hit!"

"Save her, Daddy!" the girls squealed, happily, as they hugged each other.

"RUN, CHAI!"

In an instant, Katakuri was already there, capturing Soda and Chai before swooping in to catch you, bridal-style.

"Yay! He did it!" the girls cheered, jumping up and down.

"Dang it! That's is cheating!" Soda exclaimed, struggling against the jump rope he and Chai were tied up in.

"Yay! Dada!" the smaller boy cheered along.

"No, Chai... no yay."

"Wait! It looks like she's asleep!" Cocoa called out, realizing you had yet to "wake up".

"Oh, no! She's in a deep sleep!" Frappe snickered, turning to her twin. "You know what that means..."

"True love's kiss!" Latte squealed, clasping her hands together. "Sir Daddy! You have to break the spell!"

Disgusted, Soda's eyes bulged out his sockets, as if the idea was utterly absurd.

"No way! Gross!" he scoffed. "Don't do that here!"

Carefully, Katakuri cradled your neck, slightly lifting your head as he examined your face.

You were his queen, his personal princess just waiting to be saved.

Did he dare live out the cliche?

Thinking back on the fairy tales he read as a boy, he'd be a liar if he said he didn't think about being the handsome prince at least once.

But now, he truly was; and you were his fair maiden.

So, yes, he did dare.

Leaning down, he carefully pressed his lips against yours, wary of his sharp teeth at the odd angle as his grip on you shifted to one that held you like a dip.

You were warm and soft, and a sensation he'd missed in the past few hours of playtime.

"Awww!" the girls sighed, dreamily. "How romantic!"

"Barf!" Soda gagged, severely grossed out. "Cut it out! I don't need to see that!"

"Barf!" Chai mimicked, honestly unaware of what was going on.

"Hey, don't be a jerk, you two!" Cocoa scolded, brows furrowed as she rested her hands on her hips.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of your handsome husband.

You had been saved, and—as per usual—it was by the man you cherished so dearly.

"My, my, Sir Dad... what handsome teeth you have," you teased, arms wrapping around his neck

He let out a faint chuckle, amused, before deciding to play along.

Discreetly, his hand trailed upward to hold your thigh, his other sliding over to grasp the small of your back as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, making sure he was out of earshot of the kids.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear."

[hahskeleton]

Egg on moon's head

Lets see how long moon can balance the egg

If moon lasts at least 5 seconds a little chicken plushie will appear for lunar 🐤

No plushie for Lunar. :(

[izzih22]

THEM GETTING A PUPPY TOGETHER

Always Ours

Note: dude I was literally writing this today and then you requested that. Worked out kind perfect ngl so I hope you like it. Also I didn’t know what to name the dog so hope it’s alright.

It had been seven years of “one day.”

One day when the season slows down.

One day when we’re not living in separate states.

One day when we’re not trying to survive finals, March madness, and figuring out how to be adults.

But “one day” had always ended the same way: Paige holding Azzi in bed, whispering into her neck, “I just don’t want to be an absent parent.”

Azzi never pushed. She never made Paige feel guilty for caring too much. Because that was the whole thing with Paige. She never did anything halfway. If they were gonna raise a dog together, Paige was gonna do it right.

And now?

Azzi stood in the living room of their Dallas apartment. Technically Paige’s, but Paige always called it “ours”. Azzi stood watching her girlfriend crouched on the floor, a squeaky toy in one hand, the other getting ambushed by a golden blur of fur and floppy ears.

Their goldendoodle.

Their dog.

Maple.

Maple who had been with them for exactly five hours and had already claimed Paige’s hoodie, Azzi’s sock, and both of their hearts.

“You are so dramatic,” Azzi said from the couch, but her voice was watery and her chin wobbled.

Paige looked up, eyes wide and so obviously proud of herself. “What? She loves me.”

“You bribed her with four treats.”

“Okay but she came back after,” Paige pointed out, lifting Maple into her lap. The dog immediately flopped, tongue out, tail wagging like her entire life was finally in order. “She’s obsessed with me.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, laughing through a tear. “She’s obsessed with both of us.”

Paige grinned. “Yeah. Because she has excellent taste.”

Azzi got up and padded over in her socks, tugging Paige’s hoodie sleeves down past her wrists like she always did. “I can’t believe this is real,” she said softly, kneeling beside them. “We’ve been talking about this since high school.”

Paige’s voice dropped. “I know. I kept saying ‘not yet.’”

“And now?”

Paige looked at her. Really looked at her.

“You’re here. I’m here. And she’s here. So… yeah. I think we’re doing it.”

Azzi stared at her. At the soft curve of Paige’s smile, the little curls sticking to her forehead from how much she’d been rolling on the floor, the way she held Maple like she was cradling something precious.

She remembered being seventeen and watching Paige spin a basketball on her finger in the Team USA dorms, laughing too loudly and showing off. Back then, Azzi had dreamed of being her teammate. Then her friend. Then—somewhere along the way—her person.

And now, years later, she was watching that same girl older, stronger, still a little cocky… kiss their dog on the head and whisper, “You’re gonna be so spoiled, aren’t you?”

Azzi’s breath caught.

“Az?” Paige asked, straightening up.

Azzi didn’t answer right away. Just blinked hard and reached out, running her fingers through Maple’s fur, then resting her hand over Paige’s.

“We’re really doing it,” she whispered. “We’re actually building the life we used to talk about.”

Paige leaned in, all teasing gone. “You okay?”

Azzi nodded, smiling even as the tears fell. “I’m just really happy.”

Paige kissed her. Soft and warm, like the best kind of promise.

“I’m gonna be annoying about this forever,” Paige warned after a second, pulling back just enough to smirk. “Like, anytime she snuggles me first? You’re never hearing the end of it.”

Azzi sniffled. “You already don’t shut up.”

“And you love it.”

Azzi didn’t deny it.

Because she did. Every part of her did. The smart-ass jokes. The stubbornness. The heart Paige tried to hide but never could, not from her.

Especially not now.

“I love you,” Azzi murmured, leaning into her shoulder.

Paige wrapped an arm around her, eyes flicking down to Maple, who had fallen asleep in a little gold-and-cream ball between them.

“I love you both,” Paige said, then nudged Azzi. “But I definitely love you more.”

“Better.”

Paige rested her chin on top of Azzi’s head. “Welcome home.”

Azzi’s heart nearly burst.

They had their girl.

They had each other.

And they were doing it—together, finally.

No more “one day.”

Just every day, from here on out.

[sunsherbet]

Insomniac

In which spencer reid offers to help you with your sleeping troubles.

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

CW: 18+, incorrect depictions of insomnia i think, post!prison spencer, aka freaky/confident spencer, praise, fastburn, fingering, not beta read

A smooth string of steaming water pours from the Keurig and you dunk a lavender tea bag into the clay mug. The water pulls the bag deeper into the mug like exhaustion pulling at your heavy eyelids. You press your palms into your eyes and let out a sob-like sigh in frustration.

It must’ve been the fourth time this week that no matter how hard you tossed and turned, sleep simply wouldn’t come.

The Keurig lets out a low whirr and you move your tea onto the island. You lean against the granite countertop and sip the warm liquid, dunking the teabag a few times for good measure.

Lavender tea was your newest attempt at curing your insomnia. Last night there was white noise and the night before was a weighted blanket- neither offering any meaningful relief. Your days have been a blur of restless naps and excessive caffeine, both efforts falling short in battling the relentless fog of sleep that clings to your mind.

By the time you reach the bottom of the mug, it’s clear—the tea has done nothing to increase your melatonin. You’re no more tired than before.

In your sleep deprivation and anger at another failed attempt you launch your mug into the wall. It shatters upon impact and you slide down the length of the counter in exasperation. Ever since you had moved to Washington DC, sleep had been a struggle. Maybe it was the bright lights and constant buzz of the city or maybe it was simply that feeling of homesickness you’d found nestled in the basin of your stomach since you moved away from home.

The sudden knock at the door breaks your thoughts, and you get up on shaky legs to answer it.

The clock above the stove reads 2:45 A.M. and you distantly wonder who could be at your door during this hour. Despite your exhaustion, you manage to gather enough sense to peek through the peephole. A man stands there, his floppy brown curls spilling just under his ears. He’s got gold wire glasses sitting at the edge of his nose. He wears a short-sleeve white shirt, light grey sweatpants, and brown bunny slippers. Those bring the first smile to your face all night.

Deciding a man in bunny slippers probably isn’t a murderer, you unlatch the door and crack it open just enough for you to slip into the hallway.

“Hi, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, trying to subtly adjust your Kohl’s pajama set.

“I sure hope so,” He gives a boyish smile and you feel something squeeze your heart. “I heard something shatter through the shared wall and wanted to make sure you were ok?”

Shit.

Of course, you’d woken him up, you threw a mug at the wall.

Seemingly sensing your distress he rubs a hand against his neck and says, “I was up anyway so don’t worry about waking me up or anything. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

And of course, he’s the sweetest man ever.

Maybe it’s because it’s late and you're tired or maybe it’s because his smile is so warm it makes your cheeks heat but you can’t seem to lie, “Honestly? I threw a mug at the wall because I tried drinking lavender tea because the stupid internet told me it’d help me sleep but it didn’t and now I’m in the same situation I’ve been in for the last few weeks where I can’t seem to fall asleep for the life of me. I was irritated and mad and upset and I’m exhausted but can’t sleep and so no I’m not okay.”

You finish your tirade with a long inhale and peek at his reaction through squinted eyes. He’s looking at you from under those stupidly attractive glasses and you feel your legs clench involuntarily.

Fuck. Now, you’re tired and turned on.

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to go off like that. I think the lack of sleep is making me a bit loopy.”

Spencer shakes his head, “Did you know 12% of adults in America have insomnia?”

“Do you have a stat for how many of them chuck purple mugs at their wall because of it?”

He seems to mull over this for a bit before leaning in and saying conspiratorially, “No, but I may have something that can help you get some sleep. You know, before all your mugs are gone.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that makes your heart flutter and before you know it, you’re nodding and opening your door further.

You hear his footsteps as you walk into your apartment and when you turn to close the door he’s so close you feel his breath on your skin.

Spencer swallows and your eyes trail the motion. The moment feels oddly intimate so you whisper your question, “So, what did you have in mind.”

“It’s been shown that when sex involves orgasm, it can help people fall asleep. Following sexual climax, the body releases hormones, such as oxytocin and prolactin, that promote feelings of satisfaction and happiness. At the same time, the production of cortisol — a hormone that induces alertness and excitement — decreases following orgasm. This combination of hormonal processes makes people feel tired and ready for sleep.”

Your mouth goes slack and you feel a familiar shiver of arousal. It’s almost concerning how attractive you find his knowledge of something as trivial as cortisol production. “Are you suggesting we have sex?”

He seems at least a bit flustered at your bluntness and gets rosey. He nods, “I hope you don’t find this rude, I just know what it’s like to have trouble sleeping and I found sexual stimulation profoundly helpful.” When you don’t respond he backs up, “I should go-”

With a rise of your toes, you’re gripping the collar of his sleep shirt and slamming your lips together. Spencer steadies you with a hand on your waist and gently guides you to the door. He tastes like coffee and toothpaste and he smells like cinnamon. Everything about him envelopes you so wholly that you have no choice but to surrender to it. His lips latch onto your neck and he alternates between soft kisses and gentle sucking.

You throw your head back but instead of making contact with the wall, you feel one hand shoot out to cradle it as his other drags your leg around his waist.

“You sure you wanna do this pretty girl?” He murmurs against your collarbone.

Nodding you helplessly roll your hips against his as you say, “Yes, please.”

He grins, “Well since you’re being so polite.”

Between his fluffy words and soft kisses, you’re fuzzy on when or how but you end up lying against the couch with his leg slotted between your thighs.

Spencer’s fingers trail against the hem of your sleep shorts and with a desperate nod of consent you lift your hips so he can pull them off you.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do baby, I’m gonna help you cum as many times as it takes for you to feel tired. Are you okay with that?” Spencer asks, allowing featherlight touches between the crease of your legs.

You start to nod but he shakes his head, “Words please.”

You whine and let your head thump against the plush sage sofa. You’re almost boiling with need and you feel a wet patch growing on your cotton panties.“Yes, Yes I’m okay with that.”

Before you know it Spencer is sliding your underwear to the side and slipping a finger up and down your slit. He drags some wetness from your center and uses it as lube to circle your clit. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, feeling your thighs tremble.

“Shh, I know baby but we can’t have you waking up the other neighbors like you did me now can we?” Circling your clit with one hand he uses his other to pinch at the peaks of your nipples through the thin material of your shirt.

Maybe it’s because of his deliberate and strong strokes or maybe it’s because you’re exhausted and this is the only semblance of peace you’ve had in days but you find your release within moments of him touching you.

The next morning you wake up from the first restful sleep in days and a pleasant soreness in your legs.

[junkissed]

on the nose

member — minghao x f reader  genre — smut, fluffy ending word count — 6.2k synopsis — you're too shy to be on the nose about what you want. luckily, minghao's got you figured out... he even likes the fluffy tail, too. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, established relationship, nicknames (bunny, baby, love, honey, good girl, etc), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, pet play, lingerie (bunny costume), teasing, begging, anal plug, oral (f receiving), not quite ass eating but close to it, breeding kink, creampie, filming during sex, praise, little bit of manhandling, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, biting, marking, squirting, generally rough and messy sex, and then it does a total 180 and it becomes really soft and gentle i'm sorry i can't help it this happens every time it's just who i am, pls lmk if i missed any there's a lot nksdjfsfh notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks so much to @onlymingyus and @highvern for helping me brainstorm <3 this was a challenge to write tbh but i'm glad i decided to finish it. if you enjoyed and want to see more like this please lmk how you liked it with an ask or a reblog! i always want to try new different things and feedback on this would be super appreciated :)) hope you enjoy this my slutty little bunnies mwah xoxo

you've been waiting for this day for weeks.

“hi baby,” minghao says warmly as you walk inside the house and slip your shoes off, setting your bag on the chair by the door. he wraps his arm around you to pull you in for a kiss before he turns his attention back to the boiling soup on the stove. “there was a package for you when i got home.” he nods his head towards the living room. “it’s on the table.”

“ooh, it’s my new hat!” you squeal and race across the room. “it's finally here!” you tear into the plastic like a wild animal, taking it out of the package and holding it up to show him.

it’s a knitted white beanie with white floppy ears hanging down from the sides of the hat. you pull it on over your hair, repositioning it so that the long fabric dangles at your shoulders. “what do you think?”

“you look so cute, baby. i love it.” he grins and moves closer to kiss you again. “though you know i’ll love anything you wear.”

you scrunch your nose at his reaction, but minghao must mistake the disappointment on your face for joy, because he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose before letting go of you and moving back towards the stove. “dinner will be ready in a bit, love. i’ll let you know when it’s on the table.”

you take off the beanie with a soft sigh and fold it up as you walk to your bedroom, not wanting to get it dirty before you’ve even had a chance to wear it anywhere. it's unreasonable to think he'd get it immediately, you know that, but you can't help but wish he'd have been just a little bit more excited at the sight of your bunny ears.

the soup is already done and minghao is waiting patiently once you come back out of your room changed into your pajamas, and by the time he’s got you pinned beneath him in bed later that night drawing pretty little moans from your lips, your bunny fantasies are the furthest thing from your mind. laying on your side as you listen to his gentle snores, you sigh and close your eyes, leaving it be. for now.

you wait a couple days before you try again.

“have you thought about what you’re gonna be for halloween?”

minghao looks up from his laptop sitting next to you in bed. “not really,” he chuckles. “it’s only april. why, did you have something in mind?”

you purse your lips, trying to seem casual. “i was thinking of being a playboy bunny. don’t you think that’d be cute?”

“mm… cute isn’t the first word that comes to mind,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile. something flashes across his eyes and you hold your breath, hoping for the reaction you want this time. “we can look for costumes closer to october, yeah?”

you start to frown at his answer but quickly catch yourself, hiding your dismay with a smile. “good idea. hey, i’m gonna take a quick shower before bed, m’kay?”

he nods, and you lean over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek before standing up.

but this time he doesn’t miss the way your expression falls, his brows furrowed as you walk out of the room and close the bathroom door with a quiet click. he knows there’s something you want, something you’re not happy with, but sometimes it’s so hard to get you to tell him what’s on your mind.

he closes his laptop and sets it aside on the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest in thought as he hears the shower water start to run. if all you’re willing to do for now is drop hints, then he’s just gonna have to start paying better attention until you feel like opening up. he’s not exactly a mind reader, but he’s figured you out before and he’ll do it again.

the next time it comes up, you don't even mean for it to happen.

you're walking through the mall, hand in hand as you stroll past boutiques and shops. something in one of the windows catches your eyes, and you tug on minghao's hand to go inside. he follows your gaze to the display of frilly white dresses, the wire rack wrapped with pastel garlands for their spring sale.

a sales lady with a cheap rabbit ear headband walks over and greets you with a smile, quickly launching into a memorized script about new items and clearance sales. you subconsciously squeeze minghao's hand and he pauses to watch the way you look at the woman as she talks, trying to see what you're looking at.

and then he notices something, and things start to click into place. you say something to the woman that he doesn't hear before she nods and walks away, and he sees your gaze lingering on the little cottontail tied to the belt loop of her jeans, bouncing with each step.

“you like these?” he asks curiously, running his hand over one of the dresses you'd been eyeing earlier.

“hm?” you ask absently and whip your head back around, your attention clearly drawn elsewhere. “oh, yeah. they're cute.”

well, he may not be a mind reader, but he has a hunch that the reason you wanted to come in this store wasn't to look at the clothes.

he has the chance to put his theory to the test later that night when you're straddling his lap, hands gripping your ass as he pulls you up and down along his cock.

he decides to try it, under the guise of dirty talk in the heat of the moment, and he's so casual about it you'd never suspect a thing. it already doesn't take much to get you fucked out in his arms, so when he slips it in between curses and moans you'd never be able to guess that he's been thinking about this all afternoon.

he groans as you grind down against him, waiting for the perfect opportunity. “bouncing on me so good, like a little bunny,” he says, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that makes you fall forward onto his chest.

like a magic word you instantly clench around him, whimpering loudly as your hips stutter and fall out of rhythm with him. he sees your eyes squeeze shut as you struggle to keep going, blatantly ignoring his words and pretending they don't affect you like he knows they do.

he lets himself grin at your reaction and thrusts up into you again, making you whine again as the tip of his cock presses into the spot that has you falling apart for him.

“hao! fuck, fuck, i'm—” you barely have time to moan out a warning before you're cumming, your body trembling against him from the strength of it as you gasp for air.

when you finally come back down he does everything he usually does, nothing out of the ordinary. he kisses your forehead and cleans you up and tucks you into bed beside him. he files this new little piece of information away for later and doesn't bring it up again.

for a while you start to think it was probably just an accident, a slip of the tongue when he wasn't thinking. he says a lot of things when he's inside you; he doesn't always have to mean them. but you should know better by now not to underestimate your boyfriend when he's got an idea in his head.

days go by and both of you pretend like it never happened; you because you're embarrassed at how much it affects you, and minghao because he has bigger plans up his sleeve.

everything seems perfectly normal until one evening when you come home from work and he's waiting for you at the door, wrapping you in a hug as soon as you step inside.

"hey, baby,” he smiles, his hands resting on your waist. “got a present for you."

your cheeks warm. "but it's not my birthday or anything?" it's not uncommon for him to spoil you with gifts, but he never makes a show of it. he just hands you things like you've owned them all your life, little surprises popping up without explanation like the necklace with your birthstone on it or the box of chocolates he'd known you were craving.

"it doesn't need to be. just something special i want you to have." he runs his hand over your forehead, tucking a strand of hair gently behind your ear. "it's in the bedroom, if you wanna go take a look.”

you give him a suspicious look and pull away, slipping your shoes off and leaving him by himself. he doesn't follow you down the hall, just standing in place and folding his arms with a satisfied grin once he hears squeals coming from the bedroom.

the house goes silent for a moment, and then he sees you poke your head out into the hall. “minghao?”

“yes, baby?” he grins teasingly as he leaves the living room, meeting you in the bedroom where he finds you standing next to the bed. you raise an eyebrow at him and point at the pretty white lingerie set he'd laid out for you. 

the thin lace stands out laying atop the dark bedsheets, accompanied by a pair of fluffy white wrist cuffs and a headband with soft floppy ears similar to the one worn by the lady at the store the other day but clearly much higher quality; maybe even custom or handmade. the finishing touch is a thin, white leather collar with a bow, and he can't help but smile as he surveys his layout.

“what is this?” you draw his attention away from the setup, and though your tone sounds accusing he can tell how secretly thrilled you are despite the way you try to downplay it. 

“i told you,” he smirks. “a present.”

now it's your turn to cross your arms at him. “and why is it here?”

“because i thought you'd like it,” he says in a low voice, moving closer to you. “don't you wanna be my little bunny?”

you yelp in surprise but then sigh, finally giving in. “how'd you figure it out?”

“you're easier to read than you think, my love,” he chuckles. “i know you too well.”

“you don't… hate it?” you ask shyly, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

he wraps his arms around you again. “of course not. you know you could've just asked me, right?”

you scrunch your nose and pout. “i was nervous you wouldn't want to. or you'd think it's stupid.”

“you know i'd do anything you want, love. it's not stupid to me.” he leans over to press a quick kiss to your lips. “now, will you get changed for me? i can't wait to see my cute little honey bunny all dressed up.”

with a reluctant but excited squeal you push him out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him so that the reveal will be a surprise. minghao grins at the way you try to hide your enthusiasm, leaning against the doorway as he waits patiently.

finally you open the door just a crack and poke your head out, hiding your body behind it nervously. “ready?” you ask.

he nods, and with a deep breath you pull the door open all the way. you give him a little spin, the ears flopping against your hair as you show off the outfit. he smiles proudly as he joins you in the room, his fingers falling to your waist and backing you up against the bed.

“you look adorable, baby. just like i imagined,” he says in a husky voice, and you bite your lip shyly. “do you like it?”

you smile, and it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. he'd buy you a million outfits and lingerie sets if it means he gets to see you like this every day. “i love it, hao. it's perfect.”

he sits down next to you at the edge of the bed and lifts his hand to pet your head, smoothing down your hair between the ears. you shiver in excitement, and it only makes him more eager to get started, his pants growing tighter every minute.

“i have one more present for you, mkay?” he leans away from the bed and pulls out an object from the dresser drawer. your breath catches in your throat when you realize what it is, a shiny silver plug with a round little white tail at the end that makes your heart race. “can’t be a bunny without a tail.”

you bite your lip and look at him, and he puts his hand on your thigh when you don't respond verbally. “is that okay?” he says gently, but your quick nod reassures him.

he stands up from the bed and quickly strips off his clothes, and you watch with lustful eyes as his cock slaps against his stomach, almost drooling at the sight. once he's ready you let him flip you over, kneeling down on your hands and knees with your ass readily pushed up in the air. he slips a finger under the seat of your panties, pulling them carefully to the side as he reaches over to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand beside the bed.

you shiver as he pours the cool liquid over your ass before rubbing the toy against you to coat it. once he's satisfied with it he starts to drag the metal upwards, and you jump involuntarily as he presses the end of the plug against your hole. “mm— it’s cold,” you whine as he teases you with it once more before pulling it away.

“but it won’t be for long.” he chuckles at your reaction and rubs his free hand across your lower back soothingly, and you lean your hips into his touch. with a grin he bends down and presses his lips gently against your ass cheek, and you moan when his teeth graze your skin. “just relax for me, baby, that’s it…”

he begins easing the toy past your entrance, just a little bit at a time until it's fully enveloped inside you. you've played with plugs before, but somehow the stretch is like nothing you've ever felt. knowing that this time you've got a cute little bunny tail attached sends a new wave of desire throughout your body.

with one finger he carefully pulls your panties back into place to cover you up, admiring the fluffy tail that protrudes from your hole. it really does complete the outfit, and he smiles at his own thoughtfulness, proud of his handiwork.

you wiggle your hips to test it out, adjusting to the feeling of its weight stuffed inside of you. minghao's hand comes down hard on your ass and you yelp, bucking away from him in surprise. immediately you feel his hand gently touch your stinging cheek, rubbing small circles to massage the pain away. "fuck— sorry. don't know what came over me." he says, voice gravelly. "you just… you look so fucking good right now, baby. you make such a cute bunny."

your face flushes as the initial shock fades, and you push your hips back towards him encouragingly. "it's okay. you can do it again, if—if you want."

he grips your waist and pulls you against him, and you whine as you feel his hard length grinding into your ass. "if i'd known you'd like that, then i would have bought the matching paddle with the ears and the tail too," he groans. "this is why you gotta speak up, baby. gotta tell me what you want so i can give it to you."

you bite your lip and bury your face into the pillow, ears burning in embarrassment, but you quickly lift your head again when you feel his hand leave another sharp smack on your ass. "mm, mm, don't hide from me now, love." he tsks in disappointment, his voice laced with fake sympathy. "you wanna be an obedient little bunny for me, don't you? well-behaved bunnies get rewarded." 

you start to answer, but he runs his cock against your clothed pussy and your head falls back down into the pillow instinctively, letting out a muffled string of moans. his tip teases you, pushing the lace into your wetness and back out again. "what was that, baby? i couldn't hear you."

you scrunch your nose and raise your voice, though it still only comes out as powerful as a squeak. "i said, i'll be good!"

he grins and squeezes your ass with both hands before he pulls your panties off all the way, tugging them down your legs until the thin fabric bunches up at your knees. he drags his cock over your dripping entrance again as you clench around nothing.

“hao,” you whine softly. you tilt your hips backwards to try and push him inside, but he leans back out of your reach. 

“be patient.” he runs his hands along the curve of your ass, bending down to come face to face with your aching cunt. “think i’ll eat this pretty pussy first instead. is that what you want, hm? give me a nice view of your cute little bunny tail while i make you cum all over my tongue?”

you whimper in reply, hiding your face in embarrassment as you lay on your stomach with your ass pushed into the air, proudly displaying your glistening arousal.

with his hands on either side of your hips he pulls you towards his waiting mouth. you gasp into a moan when his lips latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot as his nose prods against your entrance.

he presses his tongue flat against you, licking upwards before pulling away. it was happening so fast, too fast, and you wanted more. you needed more. but you should’ve known better than to think he would give you what you want that easily.

“feels good?” he hums, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“please, hao,” you moan. “need you. please, i’ll be good. just don’t stop.”

he scoffs lightly, his face next to your cunt but still too far away for your liking. “and why should i do that? are you gonna behave next time and tell me when you want something?”

“mhm,” you nod weakly. “i will. promise. please, minghao—”

“that’s my good girl. now just let me take care of you, hm?” he presses his lips against your ass in a kiss and you whimper when he begins sucking, hard enough that you know it’ll leave a bruise later. once he’s satisfied he sits back up to his knees, reaching over to pat your head between the ears of your headband. “don’t you worry your fuzzy little head about a thing.”

you let out another moan at his words, relishing in the way he talks about you. it gets you going more than you could’ve ever imagined, and you love him for the way he’s embraced this so wholeheartedly, falling into the role so easily that you’re cursing yourself for ever trying to hide.

he slides back down behind you, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart to give him easier access as he pushes his tongue into you. you can feel yourself growing wetter every second that passes, coating his lips with your slick as he eats you out like a starving man.

he directs his attention away from your clit, tracing his tongue up until it reaches the underside of your tail and the tip of the plug poking out. just like he’d predicted the metal is warm now, heated by the warmth radiating from your holes.

he smooths his hands over your cheeks, kneading them with his slender fingers and pushing you back further into his face. his tongue darts out to lick around the edges of the toy in your ass, and you can’t help but squirm in his grasp as his mouth wanders between your legs, briefly moving back down to suck at your clit before licking upwards again.

your thighs tremble, feeling so much stimulation in ways you'd never knew possible. he traces his tongue over your pussy, dipping into your entrance before he sits back on his knees. 

“you think you deserve to cum now?” he says, and even though you're facedown in the mattress you can still hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “has my little honey bunny earned it, do you think you've been a good girl?”

you're so fucked out already you can barely speak, but you know he wants you to beg him before he'll actually do anything. so you collect yourself and twist your head to look over your shoulder, bunny ears flopping against your back and the most pleading expression you can muster. “mhm… please? been such a good bunny for you.” you prove your point by wiggling your hips, shaking the little tail plug that sticks out of your ass back and forth.

he groans, hands squeezing your waist tighter. he can tell how much you wanted this, how much you're enjoying this, and who is he to deny you any longer when you've been so well behaved? “mm, alright.” he leans down over your back to kiss your shoulder, brushing your hair and your floppy ears out of the way. “gonna let you cum on my cock now, is that what my baby bunny wants?”

you nod eagerly and let out a yip as he finally sinks into you. you swear you've never felt this good in your life as he starts to fill you up, your walls stretching to accommodate his length.

“so fucking tight,” he groans through gritted teeth when he finally bottoms out, his cock buried in your heat. “clenching so hard, i can barely move.”

“minghao—” you plead out his name, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock but his grip on your hips is too strong to let you have even a little bit of control.

he stays still for a minute to give you time to adjust, but that doesn't stop him from playing with your tail and tracing his fingers teasingly along your lower back, relishing in the way it makes you shiver and moan his name louder.

finally when neither you nor him can take it anymore, he starts to slide out of you, groaning at the way his shaft is already coated in your slick. he's not sure you've ever been this wet for him before— and you haven't even cum yet.

it doesn't take long for him to build up his pace, propelled by the sight of your cute little tail bouncing with each deep stroke. he spreads your cheeks apart to watch the spot where his length disappears inside you and groans, an idea hitting him as he digs his fingertips into your hips. “fuck, baby— want me to video this? you look so fucking good taking my cock, wanna let you see yourself.”

your walls clench around him faster than your lips can whimper out a “yes”. god, the thought that later you'll get to watch yourself, kneeling on the bed in your pretty lingerie getting fucked like the slutty little bunny you've always wanted to be? it's your biggest dream come true.

he gradually slows down his pace so he can reach over and grab his phone off the nightstand, fingers fumbling with the buttons to start the recording. he shifts his phone into one hand and uses his other to push down on your lower back, forcing you to arch up more for him. 

his long fingers wrap around your side as he starts to thrust into you again, pulling you backwards to meet his cock with each stroke as he builds back up to a brutal pace. he holds the camera up by his chin to make sure he captures a full view of the scene, your pretty ass pushed into the air as a constant stream of whimpers and whines escapes you.

“look at my pretty bunny,” he pants out, squeezing your hip even harder as he fucks into you, knowing everything he says will be immortalized for your pleasure when you watch this together later. “look at you. so good for me, aren’t you?”

you moan out something unintelligible that sounds like a yes, and he rewards you by fucking you harder. he grins and moves his phone closer to your ass to get a better view of your pussy, close enough to see the glint of metal poking out and the way your muscles contract around both it and him with every thrust.

his eyes rake over your body, occasionally glancing at his phone screen to check the video. after a minute he stops the video and tosses his phone aside, quickly moving both hands back to grip your hips so he has more leverage to plunge into you more deeply. your arms give out from the force and you fall forward against the bed, whimpers muffled by the sheets that you grip so tightly to stay grounded to.

one of his hands suddenly leaves your hips and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair, gasping as he jerks your head up again.

“c’mon, baby,” he says, winding his hand around your hair until it tugs your scalp. it burns but it feels so good, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls on you. “you’ve been so good for me, don’t ruin it now. you can take it. isn’t that right, bunny?”

“fuck,” you whimper as you strain your neck backwards, your tits pushed against the lacy front of your lingerie as you arch your back. “i can—i can take it. please… please.”

his other hand slides up your stomach, pulling you to sit upright with your back against his chest. if it weren’t for minghao’s grip on you, you doubt you’d have even been able to hold your head up on your own, let alone the rest of your body; his forearm wraps around your chest, holding you flush against his body. you swear he’s never fucked you this hard before in your life, slamming his hips into you so hard you already know you’ll be feeling this for days afterwards, his pace never tiring.

minghao is good at giving you what you want, but you’ve always been able to retain at least a little bit of control even in your most fucked out state. but tonight your head is reeling, mouth hanging open with not a single coherent thought running through your mind. maybe it’s the thrill of being “caught”, of him finally figuring out your secret fantasy and letting you play into it.

your first orgasm catches you off guard, overtaking you with no warning. you double over in minghao’s arms as you writhe against him, clenching so hard that even he can’t keep up the pace. his hips stutter as he struggles to continue thrusting, barely managing to even stay inside of you as your muscles contract and try to force his cock out from your pulsing walls.

“go on, baby, let go for me,” he breathes in a low voice against your ear, holding you tighter to keep you in place. “such a good bunny, cumming all over my cock.”

“cu—cumming!” you manage, and you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave slams into you.

he curses under his breath as he snakes his hand down the front of your body to toy with your clit. “fuck— that’s it, baby. let me have it, give me more. such a good girl.”

you lean your head back against his shoulder with another broken moan, all the tension suddenly leaving your body in a rush. the bed is soaked, his thighs are soaked, your pussy is soaked, but you can't stop. his fingers don't stop either, rubbing fast circles on your clit as you squirt.

after what seems like an eternity of cumming you claw at his fingers on your clit, weakly trying to pull his hand away. “h-hao,” you moan, your voice cracking. “wait. stop—”

his grip on your body loosens and he moves his hand before pulling out of you slowly, his cock still hard and aching and his heart pounding with adrenaline. immediately his tone is softer, keeping his voice quiet beside your ear despite his heavy breathing. “what is it, love, what do you need? can you tell me?”

you lean your head back to rest against his shoulder, your body shaking as you try to catch your breath. it’s hard. you can barely think straight from so much stimulation all at once, your head still cloudy from such intense orgasms back to back, and it takes a long few seconds before you can string together your thoughts. “just… need to slow down.” you find his hand on your thigh and squeeze his fingers with all the strength you can muster. “but don’t wanna stop.”

he exhales and turns his head to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. “okay, sweetheart. just let me know. i’m here.”

he knows he was getting a little carried away, but he wasn’t expecting this to get him so riled up. even after he’d figured you out and put his plan into motion he hadn’t once thought about how he felt, so focused on making sure you’d be happy with him.

he’d spent hours online looking for the perfect outfit for you, pretty lingerie that would be comfortable yet still make you feel as beautiful and sexy as you are to him. if only he hadn’t wanted it to be a surprise, because he kind of wishes you’d been able to see the grin on his face when he’d picked out the cutest little tail and ears to match.

he never considered how much he’d enjoy seeing you in the outfit, maybe even more than you, the lace hugging your body as you whimper and whine so cutely for him. if anything, he knows he's definitely going to get his money's worth out of your pretty costume set, because he's already planning out in his mind the next time you'll get to do this together.

you hum his name softly and it brings him out of his head, looking down at your hazy expression. this is still sort of new to him, but he’ll figure out how to handle it. he’s good at that.

“do you wanna lay down?” he asks, fingers tracing up and down your sides and gently toying with the fabric of your bra as he holds you against his body.

you hum in agreement and turn over in his arms, letting him slowly guide you onto your back as he hovers on his hands and knees above you.

you tug at your ears headband and toss it away, and instinctively his hands begin smoothing over your hair to carefully massage your scalp. “uncomfy?” he asks as your eyes flutter shut, a sweet smile on your face at his soothing touch.

“after a while, yeah,” you say softly, leaning your head into his fingertips. you open your eyes slowly, finding his face just inches above yours. “i’m still your bunny?” you ask a little shyly, watching his gaze.

he smiles and leans up to kiss your nose, a habit of his that now means so much more. “mhm. cutest bunny i’ve ever met. and she’s all mine.”

you can feel his throbbing cock resting atop your stomach, and you sigh out his name, reaching up to pull him down to meet your lips. “minghao…” you lift your hips a little, whimpering quietly in response when he groans from the pressure.

“ready to go again?” he breathes, and at your nod he positions his cock back at your entrance, pushing in slowly. the stretch is easy this time and it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out again, bending over you to leave kisses all over your face as you readjust to him. 

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, whining softly as you squeeze his bicep to try to get him to move. even just having him completely still inside of you feels incredible, but you're eager for more, almost insatiable for him. you don't want this to end just yet.

“god—” he chokes out, thrusting once into you so deep that it makes your head spin. “i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that. not gonna last much longer.”

maybe he’s delirious from so much in one night, but minghao swears you clench harder when he says that. you shake your head, trying to pull him even closer. “don’t care. just want you to fill me up, please?”

he lets out another groan, long and low as he pushes his hips in and out in a slow but steady rhythm. “oh, is that what you want? you want me to breed you? pretty bunny wants to be full of my cum?”

between his dirty talk and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, your mind goes blank, and all you can manage is a squeak and a nod and a prayer that he’ll figure it out, how badly you want him to do exactly that. despite everything he’s already given you tonight, you’re absolutely desperate for it, and if you could recall words and sentences right now you would’ve started begging him like your life depended on it.

luckily for you he knows you just as well as he says he does, because he adjusts his hips and thrusts deeper into you, his cock angled upwards to hit you just right with every stroke as filthy words spill from his lips.

“gonna fuck you so full,” he huffs, and you stare wide eyed at the sweat dripping down his cheekbones as he pounds you into the mattress. “taking it so well, gonna breed you like my bunny deserves, stuff you so full. my pretty little bunny, always so desperate for me…”

he doesn't stop, his words beginning to ramble as he focuses all his energy on thinking about your pretty eyes and the sweet, fucked out look on your face that he knows you always get when he cums inside of you because he knows how much you love it.

“please… please,” you whimper, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders so tight, and you know he's right at the edge. each stroke fills you completely, and the pressure from both his cock and the plug still inside you makes you dizzy with pleasure.

minghao buries his face in your collarbone, biting down to muffle his groans as he cums. your own mouth falls open in a gasp as you feel his cock jerk against your walls, pulsing with each thick rope of cum he releases inside. his breath catches in his throat and forces his cock deeper, his pelvis firmly pressed against yours as far in as he can possibly go. 

with shaky hands and even shakier breaths, you wrap your arms around him and hold his head against your chest, your heart still racing as you come down together. he doesn't try to pull out yet, laying down on top of you and letting his weight cover you. you whimper softly as you feel his cum seeping out of you, running down the backs of your thighs. 

after a minute he sighs, looking up at you to make sure you're still okay. “was that alright?” he asks, but your lazy grin tells him all he needs to know.

“love, hey.” he tilts your chin to make you look at him, brushing his thumb against your cheek to make sure you're paying attention. “promise me one thing. next time, just tell me if there's something you wanna try. okay?” he says. his tone is still quiet and gentle, but you can tell he's serious. 

as fun as it is to play this game, he'd much rather you just come to him and talk about it, even if you think it's silly or stupid. he knows it's hard to talk about things you want, but he feels comfortable enough to tell you anything and he hopes one day you'll feel the same, without him having to pry.

“mhm,” you hum sincerely, smiling in contentment at the soft feeling of his fingers on your skin. “i will.”

despite your mumbled voice he can tell you're being genuine with him, and he rewards you with a gentle kiss.

you giggle and run your fingers through his hair, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling that radiates both inside and out. “so… next time you're gonna wear the outfit, right?”

he laughs and kisses you again, happy that you seem so satisfied after everything. “well, that depends on whether or not you've been a good bunny.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

[isabelckl]

whiskey & honey 3

ranch girl ellie williams x city girl fem!reader

every summer since you were fourteen was spent in Ellie’s family ranch. your mothers are best friends, which only made it harder to understand why you and Ellie were never even friends. or maybe the question isn’t about friendship at all.

a/n: here it is! I’m currently on summer vacation back in my hometown, and things have been crazyyy. I’ve been sneaking in time to write whenever I’m not out with my cousins or caught up in the chaos. Hope you enjoy this chapter! ♡

Masterlist

Celine was out in the garden when you pulled in, crouched over her tomatoes with sun on her shoulders and a floppy straw hat shielding her eyes. She looked up at the sound of the truck, hand resting on her hip.

“Back in one piece,” she called over the hedge.

“Yeah, well, she dents easy,” Ellie said, sliding out of the driver’s seat with a grunt and slamming her door like she hadn’t just made your heart do something stupid. “Gotta drive like I’m hauling crystal.”

You rolled your eyes and shot her a glare, but it didn’t quite land—not with the way your chest fluttered at the sound of her voice saying your name like that, even if she didn’t.

You hopped down barefoot, still holding your sandals in one hand. The porch steps radiated heat as you walked past them toward the house, but instead of going inside, you lingered — trailing just behind Ellie as she veered toward the barn.

“Hey,” you called after her. “Where are you going?”

She glanced back over her shoulder, expression unreadable. “Feeding. I forgot to check on Bramble this morning.”

You fell into step beside her, ignoring the ache in your calves from running in sand. “Can I come?”

“Lunch will be ready soon.” She reminded, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m not hungry yet.”

Ellie glanced over, her eyes trailing down your figure before flicking back up.

“Yeah,” she said dryly. “That’s kind of your thing, huh?”

You scoffed, half a smile tugging at your mouth. “I eat well,” you said. “You just never notice.”

She didn’t answer, just pushed open the barn door and left it swinging behind her. So you followed.

The air inside the barn was thick with the scent of sunbaked hay, leather, and the comforting musk of horses. Dust floated in the light filtering through the rafters, like tiny stars suspended in the heat.

Ellie disappeared into one of the stalls with a rustle of movement and soft huff from a horse.

You hung by the doorway for a second, taking in the quiet rhythm of the place, the creak of wood, the slow shifting of hooves. And then you stepped forward, curiosity pulling you closer.

“You don’t remember any of this, do you?” Ellie’s voice floated out from the stall.

You leaned on the edge. “Vaguely. I think I was scared of stepping in poop the last time.”

Ellie made a noise that might’ve been a laugh. She emerged a moment later holding a bridle, bits of hay stuck in her rolled-up sleeves.

“You want me to teach you something?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are you just going to follow me around and talk?”

“Why not both?” you teased, shrugging.

That earned you a half-smile — one of those crooked ones she tried to hide.

She handed you the bridle, and it was heavier than you expected — the leather warm and smooth, the metal cool against your palm.

“Alright,” she said, stepping close. “This is basic. You hold it like this—no, not like that. Here.” She adjusted your hands, her fingers brushing yours, firm but gentle.

You tried to focus, but the warmth of her body so close behind yours was impossible to ignore. Her voice was low, the kind of tone that filled your chest more than your ears.

“Reins over here. Loop under here. You tuck this strap behind the bit. That’s it.”

You squinted at the mess of buckles. “I’m gonna break this horse’s face.”

Ellie scoffed lightly. “You’re not even on the horse yet.”

“I’m helpless,” you sighed.

“It’s cute,” she said — too easily, too naturally, like it slipped out before she could stop it.

You turned your head toward her, surprised.

She was already looking at you, close enough that your breath could’ve met hers in the space between. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then she stepped back, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Try again,” she said, voice quieter now.

You fumbled through it with her watching. Not too close this time, but close enough that her gaze felt like a second set of hands guiding your movements.

When you finally got the bridle looped properly — or at least close enough — she nodded with approval and a small grin.

“Not bad,” she said.

“I expect a certificate,” you said, holding it up proudly like a trophy.

She leaned back against the stall door, arms folded, her smile still lingering. “You get a gold star. Maybe.”

You were about to reply when a faint voice called from the house. “Girls! Wash up! Food’s getting cold!”

Ellie pushed off the stall door with a sigh, brushing off her jeans. “That’s our cue.”

You hesitated, looking around the barn one last time, reluctant to leave the moment.

“Can we come back later?” you asked.

She gave you a look you couldn’t read, then nodded once. “Sure.”

The sunlight slanting through the window had just been so warm. The ceiling fan overhead whispered lullabies. Your limbs were heavy, your skin still tinged with salt and sun, and before you knew it — hours had slipped through your fingers like warm honey.

You stirred awake sometime past five, the golden light already creeping lower across the floorboards, stretching long and soft like lazy fingers reaching across the day.

Panic fluttered in your chest as you sat up too fast, your shirt sticking slightly to your back. The bridle lesson. The plan to come back. You'd said you would. You'd wanted to.

You groaned under your breath and swung your legs off the bed, your bare feet hitting the cool wooden floor.

By the time you stepped outside, the sun was already sinking low behind the ridge, casting the yard in hues of burnt gold and honeyed orange. The breeze smelled like hay and honeysuckle, like open fields and somewhere far from obligation.

You padded across the yard toward the barn, adjusting the soft white shorts you threw on and tugging lightly at the hem of your yellow tank. The thin white cardigan you wore over it moved with the wind — cropped, gauzy, more for feeling than warmth. The kind of thing that slipped down one shoulder without trying.

You tugged it back in place as you reached the open barn doors.

Inside, the horses shuffled gently in their stalls, tails swishing, the air thick with the warm musk of animals and wood and old dust. Ellie stood near the last stall, silhouetted by the golden spill of sunlight through the open back doors. She was brushing Bramble with slow, practiced strokes, the horse’s flank glinting with a healthy sheen.

For a moment, you just watched her.

She hadn’t noticed you yet — or maybe she had, and chose not to say anything. Either way, she looked calm. Centered. One hand resting on Bramble’s side, the other running the brush in lazy circles.

You stepped forward quietly, the soft pad of your sandals barely making a sound.

“Hey,” you said, voice was almost sheepish. “I fell asleep.”

Ellie looked up. Her face was lit from the side — all soft edges and warm tones, her auburn hair glowing like a campfire. She blinked at you once, then offered a small shrug.

“Swimming takes it out of you.” She said simply.

Your cheeks warmed. “I just— I didn’t mean to ditch. I thought we’d come back here. I kinda—made it a whole thing earlier.”

Ellie chuckled under her breath, going back to brushing the horse. “You’re not that dramatic.”

You stepped closer, tucking your hands into the pockets of your shorts. “I might be a little dramatic.”

She glanced sideways at you, eyes flicking down — just for a moment — before returning to her task. “You’re wearing yellow.”

You looked down at yourself, surprised. “Yeah. Too much?”

“No,” she said. Her voice was softer now. “It suits you.”

You felt your face heat again, this time without any excuses.

You leaned lightly on the stall door. “I’m not great with… high-energy stuff. Swimming. Running. That sort of thing. Sometimes I just crash.”

Ellie gave a faint smirk. “I know.”

You tilted your head, eyes flicking to hers. “You could just say you missed me,” you said, careful, like you were testing the water.

“I could,” she said, brushing the horse in one last stroke. “But you were snoring.”

You gasped. “I was not.”

She didn’t answer — just walked past you toward the tack room, her smirk growing.

You stared after her, flustered and grinning, and tried not to think about how the barn lights were starting to come on, one by one, blinking softly in the dusk.

You were right back where you'd started.

And somehow, it felt exactly right.

The opening credits rolled slow across the screen, a soft instrumental fading into the quiet. The living room was warm and dim, lit only by the soft orange glow from the floor lamp and the faint hum of the TV. You hugged a throw pillow to your chest, legs curled under you on one end of the couch, the wine glass loose in your fingers.

Celine had fallen asleep halfway through the last movie, muttering something about early morning errands before disappearing upstairs with a blanket over her shoulder. Now, it was just you and Ellie — both sun-drowsy and half full of pasta, your body warm and just fuzzy enough to feel a little braver.

You sipped the last of the wine, lips tugging into a sleepy grin.

With a sigh, you let your head fall back on the couch cushion. “God,” you murmured. “I just love it here. Can your mom adopt me?”

Ellie, tucked into the other end of the couch in an old T-shirt and gray sweatpants, turned her head to look at you, eyebrow raised. “Why?”

You hugged the pillow closer, voice playful. “She’s so cool. And I don’t know, it’s just… I love it here.”

Ellie leaned back, arms crossed, watching you like she was trying not to smile. “I love your mom. What’s wrong with her?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, gaze still on the wide flat screen. “I love her too, but she’s… pushy. Always asking when I’m gonna find a boyfriend like that’s a personality requirement.”

Ellie snorted. “Boyfriend, huh?”

You whipped your head toward her, glaring through your wine haze. “Hey, It’s not funny. Why would I need a fucking boyfriend?” You were pouting now. “I can live without one. I got, like, plants. Spotify. And air.”

Ellie’s mouth twitched. Her eyes danced with laughter as she reached for her water bottle. “Jesus. You talk shit when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” you said, even though the way your head lolled slightly and how your limbs felt extra floaty said otherwise.

“You sure?” she tilted her head, sipping. “You’re one more glass away from making out with that pillow.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Well maybe the pillow is emotionally available.”

Ellie laughed — really laughed — and it made something flutter behind your ribs. You stared at her like you were memorizing the sound.

Then she added, between a grin and a shrug, “Too bad my mom’s pushy too. But I definitely don’t want you as a sister.”

You gasped, eyes narrowing. “You’re mean.”

Ellie shrugged. “You’re the one trying to get adopted into my family. Don’t be mad you ruined the vibe.”

“Whatever,” you muttered. “We’re like… basically sisters anyway. Our moms are obsessed with each other.”

“Yeah,” Ellie said slowly, side-eyeing you. “Let’s not unpack that dynamic.”

You turned toward her, shifting closer across the couch, still hugging your pillow like a shield. “You say that like we didn’t share a bed that one summer.”

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, her voice low and dry. “When you snored and kicked me in your sleep.”

You giggled, cheeks warming. “Okay, rude—”

“I still have the scar.”

“You’re lying.”

“Prove it.”

You stared at her for a second. Then leaned in, just a little. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Ellie raised her brows, amused, but her body didn’t move away. Her tongue flicked briefly along the inside of her cheek.

“You talk so much shit when you drink. I didn’t know that about you.”

You smirked, head tilted now, fully facing her. “Well, Ellie… there are things you still don’t know about me.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “So many things.”

There was a pause. The air thinned.

“Wanna find out?” You ask, soft.

Ellie’s expression shifted — subtly, but enough that your heart stopped for a moment. Her eyes dipped — not by accident — to your lips.

You saw it. She didn’t try to hide it.

“What do I get if I do?”

Her voice was quiet now. Low. Different.

Your breath caught. You blinked once, heartbeat spiking.

You swallowed the air between you and whispered, “What do you want?”

Ellie leaned in slightly, not enough to close the gap — just enough to tip you forward with her. Her gaze flicked between your eyes and lips slowly. Deliberate.

“Don’t ask that unless you mean it,” she said, the smallest hint of a dare in her tone.

You didn’t move back.

Neither did she.

But then, of course, without warning, Ellie looked away — just a glance to the side — and leaned back slightly. Her mouth twitched, almost smiling, almost not.

She stood up.

You watched her move toward the TV, the silence stretching again, soft but tight like a string between you.

She picked up the remote, clicked the screen off, and let the darkness settle. Only the lamp glowed now.

“We should sleep,” she said, not looking at you.

You groaned, slumping into the couch. “We didn’t even finish the movie.”

Ellie didn’t answer right away — she just walked past and reached out, ruffling your hair like it was nothing.

“Hey—!” you laughed, swatting her hand away.

She grinned as she started walking toward the stairs. You stood, hugging the pillow tighter, and followed.

You walked together, quietly, the floorboards soft under your steps.

Your rooms were across from each other, just a few feet of hallway between them. She stopped in front of hers, her hand now rubbing the back of her neck like she didn’t want to open the door yet.

She looked at you once before looking away. But then her eyes were all over you again.

You were just standing there — barefoot, holding the pillow like armor — your heart somewhere between your ribs and your throat.

Ellie sighed, her lips twitching like she was losing an argument in her head.

“…That’s your room,” she said finally, eyes flicking toward your door.

You blinked up at her. “Uh. Yeah. That’s…” You pointed to the door behind her. “That’s your room too.”

You bit your lips as silence enveloped the two of you.

Ellie’s eyebrows raised slightly, her mouth twitching again. “Incredible observation.”

You wanted to melt into the floor.

“Okay, alright,” you said, laughing under your breath, stepping back. “I’ll go inside.”

“You should,” Ellie said, but she didn’t move either.

You nodded again, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as a small smile escaped.

Turning, you slipped into your room and closed the door gently behind you — then immediately leaned back against it, heart pounding, grinning so wide it hurt.

You barely had time to let out a silent scream into your hands before a knock made your heart jump.

You opened the door quickly — too quickly.

Ellie was standing there.

“Yes?” you breathed.

She scratched the side of her jaw, her voice a little raspier than before.

“Goodnight.”

Of course she said it like that.

“Goodnight,” you said, trying not to smile like a maniac.

She gave you a small nod, then turned and walked back into her room.

You closed the door slowly this time, pressed your back to it again, and screamed without sound — body buzzing, heart in shambles, hands gripping your face like you were losing your mind.

Because holy shit.

She said goodnight.

And she came back to say it.

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[bumblehoneybee]

Interloper

Of all of the things that should’ve been bugging Dogday, such as the looming goal of killing the Prototype on the horizon or perhaps the fact he needs to learn to move without his legs to fight, it was the stowaway that bothered him the most.

You didn’t even realize it was following you until Catnap was gone and you were taking a well deserved rest in the quiet Playcare. All of the miniature critters usually kept their distance, but one bold toy followed your little team around. And when it was noticed by the ever vigilant Kissy, it merely bowed forward onto its front legs, tail wagging a mile a minute.

“Oh!” You gasped, approaching the small Dogday toy despite your larger companion’s soft growls. The smaller dog was quick to shove its nose into your offered palm, nuzzling and licking at your fingers. “Aw. Hello, cutie!”

Dogday shifted, gripping your shoulders tight from his place between your back and the grab-pack. “Angel. . .”

You tossed him a grin. “He seems pretty friendly. Now that Catnap isn’t scaring them anymore, I bet all the mini critters have gotten sweeter!”

Poppy gave a soft shake of her head, leaning against’s Kissy’s head with a distrusting wrinkle of her nose. “Or they’re hungry and want to beg the next strongest person they can find.”

You didn’t seem to mind the idea. Dogday stretched his neck, watching you dig into your pocket and produce a bag of peanuts. The smaller toy, despite your cooing, cocked its head at the food you knocked into your palms. But desperation didn’t leave room for pickiness, and it quickly gobbled up the peanuts.

Despite the horrors the both of you had seen, the little Dogday charmed you easily. You happily picked the toy up, cradling it, scratching behind its floppy ears and around its neck. It howled softly for you, wiggling with unretained joy as its tail made audible smacks against your hips.

“Angel. . .” Dogday said again. The miniature in your arms froze, staring up at him with wide, emotionless eyes. “Perhaps we should leave the little critters to the Playcare. It is their home.”

You just pouted. Dogday’s resolve wavered at the mere poke of your bottom lip, a silly expression that made all of this feel so normal. Your silliness, shining through in moments of stress and peace both, were balms to frazzled nerves. Not just Dogday’s, if Poppy and Kissy’s shared glance said anything.

“But he’s so cute.” You half whined, nuzzling your own nose into the little dog’s head. It immediately began to wiggle again, huffy barks of delight panting out as it tried to lick your face despite the awkward angle. Dogday growled lowly. “Hm. . . How ‘bouts I call you Peanuts? You like that, little man?”

You held the newly named Peanuts above your head, and he howled.

“Guess that answers that!” You chirped. To Dogday’s displeasure, you tucked Peanuts into your hoodie, letting its head and two little paws poke out the collar. “Shall we keep moving?”

Peanuts became very dear to you as you continued to move through the factory towards your next destination. Dogday tried not to mind it; after all, everyone needed something to decompress and just let themselves be entertained by in the midst of so much torture and despair.

But Peanuts being that for you meant that Dogday could not be that thing for you. And perhaps he was a little. . . frustrated that he couldn’t make you laugh how the little dog could.

He watched, glaring, as you played with Peanuts. You tossed a small ball the dog had found in the rubble of the factory, cheering and applauding as Peanuts fetched it. Peanuts hopped and yipped happily, especially when you showered it in kisses.

Dogday growled into his crossed arms. “Not that impressive.”

A snicker made his hackles rise. “What was that, Dogday?” He turned further into his arms, content to fully face the floor instead of look at Poppy’s smirk. “Something the matter?”

“No.” Dogday huffed.

Poppy snickered again. “Oh? So the fact that Angel is so enamored with the other Dogday doesn’t bother you at all?” Dogday lifted his head to glare at the doll. She just shook her head at him. “Silly. You’re jealous over nothing.”

Dogday didn’t bother that with a response. What would he have to be jealous about? Sure, he was aching a bit for your attention, but you’d eventually give it to him. He just had to be patient. After all, he was the one you tended to sleep near when exhaustion befell you. He protected you, made you feel safe. You had said so yourself.

So Dogday waited for tiredness to cross your face. You yawned into your fist, cradling Peanuts in the other arm. The toy whined at you, but you still set him down, pulling some blankets from the grab-pack’s storage.

Dogday’s tail thumped against the ground some. “Come rest, angel. It’s been a long day.”

You nodded. “Sure has!” But as you came over, throwing blankets over yourself and Dogday both, curling into his side and nuzzling into his (admittedly matted) fur, a yowl shook the air. “Peanuts!?”

Peanuts yowled and growled, jumping towards Dogday to snap at him then jumping back. It bit your pant leg, tugging hard as it could and whining loudly when you couldn’t be moved.

Poppy laughed loudly. “Aw! He’s jealous!” Kissy bopped Peanuts on the head with her hand, brows furrowed, but the dog did not quit.

Dogday, feeling you shift to stand up, growled. It was a deep, rumbling noise that he didn’t hold back. Peanuts fell over in surprise from the noise, obviously not expecting to have retaliation. It whined, but recognizing defeat, skittered off towards where Kissy sat against a wall, sliding under her knees. She huffed.

Pleased, Dogday settled back down, glancing at you. You cocked a brow at him, so he quickly closed his eyes to avoid any accusations. Luckily you merely chuckled, lightly bopping him on the nose with your hand.

“Silly.” You hummed, relaxing against him.

Maybe he was. But having your attention again, your fingers running through his fur and your heartbeat against his side, made him far more agreeable.

He didn’t even bite when he woke up to find Peanuts wormed into your little pile, wrapped in your arms and sleep-kicking his ribs.