#getting to the point where you could fry an egg

[frnkiebby]

more of our favorite greased up rats~🎃

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

[fanfiction4sooya]

Forbidden dream (G!P Nayeon x Fem!R)

I was thinking of this little sadistic fucker and well... I hope you enjoy yourselves. I know I did.

cw: g!p, dacryphilia, masturbation, noncon, dubcon, jerking off, face slapping, humiliation, unprotected sex, degradation kink (sorry I'm not big in degradation since i prefer praise but I tried ok), tit slapping, spitting, a lot of cum in face (nasty, i love it), creampie, anal fingering, sadistic nayeon, bully captain im, not really proofread, etc;

The military was definitely an experience. Sometimes you honestly questioned what the fuck you had in mind when you decided to join, specially because you have been tormented by your boss, Captain Im, since the very beginning. She would pick on you for every apparent reason, always making very known her distaste for you and your quiet demeanor.

You tried your best to ignore her, but it was seemingly impossible to, specially after you had a three week mission together, staying on the same dorm because you were the only two women at it. Of course it was a fucking bunk bed and of course she made you stay on the one under hers. It was impressive how that woman could be captain when in reality she was nothing but a mean girl, a bully.

A very scary one.

It's been months until you finally hit your breaking point. Sort of.

You were leaving the shower when you bumped face first into her, your wet self literally "staining" her green shirt with nothing but water. She made a scowl, rolling her eyes.

"Look where you are going" Her nasty look didn't help at all.

"I'm sorry-" You started saying but she cut you off.

"No need to start whining" She walked past you, unbuckling her belt to get in the shared bathroom.

You stood there for about a minute or two bsolutely stunned at how uneducated that woman could be, how very rude and unnecessarily mean she was. You were mad. Why did she always had to make a comment, be rude to you at all? What did you ever do to her?

Oh no you weren't mad, you were enraged.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You entered the shared bathroom, opening the stall full force, not caring if she was naked or not.

As if you were nothing but an insect, she turned around very slowly.

"What did you say?" She said very calmly, poison dripping from that 'calm' tone.

You tried, you really tried to not stare but it was impossible not to notice that thing between her legs. It was pretty big and you were sure it was semi hard by the looks of it. It literally twitched and you gulped.

"You were saying, Sargent?" She closed the shower, pulling a towel to cover her lower half and not really minding to hide her perky tits as well.

"I- uhm" you tried to say, staring at her face now. Your cheeks felt so warm you knew you could fry an egg on them. You lost every single line of thought you could ever have, specially because the bulge under the towel was getting visibly bigger.

She scoffed.

"I don't even know why you bother starting something you can't finish" She stepped closer, her body now warm because of the hot shower. You clutched your towel so hard it hurt. "You wanna know what's wrong with me..." She eyed you up and down and you shivered, your eyes watering. "You are a cry baby, sweetie. That's the whole problem" She lift her hand and you flinched, but she didn't hit you. Nayeon caught the tear that fell from your right eye with her thumb, taking it to her lips and smiling. "You are damn lucky you are pretty when you cry"

She lightly pushed you out of the bathroom, slamming the door on your face. You were stunned now, shocked out of your mind.

"What the hell did just happen?" You put your hand on your cheek, the one she touched. You could feel yourself tightening around nothing.

.🌸.🌸.🌸.

The aftermath of your wannabe rage outburst was awkward. Staying in the same room as her made your mind wander over and over again to that huge thing between her legs. You kept your eyes down the whole day, trying your best to not cross her at all, but anytime you saw her point to anything you remembered her thumb on your cheek and that feeling came back cascading like a waterfall.

And soon as they said the meeting for the day ended you ran back to your shared room, taking a quick cold shower to try taking that wetness and dirty feelings off of you. Unfortunately for you, she was right there when you left the shower, resting on the small couch with her eyes closed, still on her uniform. Her legs were spread and her bulge quite visibly there.

You shook off that feeling, doing your best to try changing into your pajamas without disturbing her peaceful rest, going straight up to your bed. You closed your eyes, focusing on sleeping and trying your best to not make any sound and relax.

You sure managed to do all that, relaxing onto the comfort of your covers and mattress, finally able to let Captain Im Nayeon go from your thoughts.

Or so you thought.

You first heard a faint whimper, not really picking up on what that meant; then the wet sounds came. You froze. 'Okay maybe that's not what I think it is' you thought.

"Fuck..." You heard her whisper. Your heartbeat quickened and you pondered if she'd see you peeking. You gulped moving ever so slightly, slowly you peeked under the bunk bed and to where you saw her figure and there she was.

Lights were off but under the dim light of the moon entering the room from the windows you could see her silhouete, her legs still spread but this time they were unzipped and that bulge was now standing out of it's confinement. Her cock seemed big and by the sound she was making, very senstive too. She was fucking her hand very slowly, the end of her shirt between her teeth so it wouldn't stand in the way of her ministrations or maybe to muffle her noise. Actually, cut that last part out, she wouldn't hide that from you.

"Jesus christ" You heard her mutter, her hand sliding up and down faster and harder now, eyes closed and furrowed eyebrows, hissing when her other palm cupped the tip in a rubbing motion. She was almost climaxing, you could see by the way her hips bucked. You slid your hand inside your sleeping shorts as well, touching your wet pussy and biting the back of your other hand. She looked right where you were, almost as if she could see through you. It scared you but of it didn't stop what you were doing; in fact, it turn you on even more.

You circled your clit faster, it was pulsing under your fingers. Nayeon smiled when you moaned.

"Fuck, look at your pathetic little face" Her cock was leaking so much precum, you wanted to drink every single drop. "Come here" She commanded and as if you had no free will, you immediatelly got down your bed, kneeling right between her thighs, pleading eyes watcing her face contort in this beautiful way. "I'm gonna cum all over your face" She growled, aiming the slit of her cock to you and doing what she just said, splashing her cum on your face and boobs, smiling down at you. "Open your mouth now"

You were about to do what she told you to, when all of a sudden the sound of your alarm went off pulling you out of that dream.

You woke up confused, looking around and seeing her in front of the mirror, tightening her bun. Your eyes met and she gave you a side smile.

"Nice dreams?" She turned around. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" She stepped closer to where you were and your heart sunk, your eyes looking down. "Although one can't consider all those noises 'talking'" Nayeon shook her head and left, leaving you there with a throbbing pussy and memories of the wildest wet dream ever.

A week or so had passed since the dream.

You were so confused. Why would you feel attracted to her? Why couldn't you stop imagining her cum all over your face? Her degrading you while those huge hands wrapped around your neck and her cock fucked you hard? Ugh, you were going insane, your horniness reaching places you never thought it could, even walking was becoming something umbearable due to the stickyness of your throbbing pussy.

You finally had a moment alone after she went on a mission and was expected to come back in two days. You had two days to fuck yourself dumb to try to satisfy your needy state.

You sat down on the small couch, immediately pulling your pants off and reaching for your aching clit.

"Fucking hell" You hissed, pulling them off too. It was drenched, sensitive as you never felt before. You circled it lightly, whimpering when you felt that rush of energy going through your body, your clit hard and poking out of its hood.

It took you less than you expected to cum. So you did it again and again until all you could feel was your trembling legs and that stickyness gushing out of your sensitive slit. You barely registred when you fell sleep, legs slightly apart, your glistening pussy furiously reddened due to all that action.

.🌸.🌸.🌸.

Nayeon reached for the doorknob and it was, unusually, locked. Her perverted mind going far so so quickly, thinking you might have someone over. She could tell by the whimpering and the talking in your sleep that you've been having wet dreams for a while now and she definitely knew it was about her. So since you couldn't have her you'd probably try to find some replacement. Oh but she wanted you to wait a bit more to actually have what she had for you.

Nayeon was a patient woman. Not once touching herself to your sounds just so she could store her load better for you. Biting her lip she got her keys and unlocked the heavy door. The sight was better than she imagined, her cock instantly getting erect inside her trousers, her mouth wattering with desire.

You looked dazzling for her in your dishevelled state; your shirt lift up showing your tummy, legs spread and swollen pussy. Oh she was having a feast.

Slowly unzipping her pants, she freed her girthy cock as her eyes scanned your face and pussy. It was painfully hard as she spat on the tip; the first stroke felt heavenly, her eyes slowly rolling to the back of her skull as she whimpered, a moan scaping her plump lips. She hated your whiny little self, but since she saw tears roll down your face she thought nothing but how to make you cry even more for her, getting off to the feeling of letting you desperate for her.

She positioned herself just above your face, her precum doing all the work on making her big hands slide up and down on her cock; the loud squealching sound slowly made your eyes open as she stared down at you.

There she was in her glory, jerking off just as you were god knows how long ago. It was a dream. It only could be.

Thinking it was a dream, you wrapped your hand around her base, horniness filling your mind as your cunt pulsed in need, desperate to feel something. Without a word you got down from the couch, kneeling in front of her and taking her inside your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the tip and she hissed, grabing you by the hair with much needed strength, pulling your mouth closer to the base of it.

You gagged hard as she bobbed your head up and down, clenching each time your nose touched her abs, your eyes welling up with tears.

"Fuck" She held you in place for about 5 seconds as your throat clenched on her big cock. Your hands pushed her by the thighs but she wouldn't move. It wasn't a dream. "Pushing me away now pretty girl?" She pulled your hair back, taking her cock off your mouth. "You were the one who started it" She slapped your face as you panted, wetness dripping down your leg and on the carpet. "Now you are going to take it and I won't hear any of your pleas for me to stop" She growled.

"I-" You tried to say anything but that humiliating feeling of being so aroused by that bully was something overwhelming to the point of despair. "Please" You said in this shaky moany breath, eyebrows knit together.

"Oh fuck, you look pretty like this" She squeezed your face between her fingers, her nails digging a bit as she jerked off to the sight of you. "I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face" And that being said her cock was back inside your mouth, pistoning fast as you gagged and cried, drooling all over your boobs and her thighs, your nose runny as well since you tried hard to breathe through it. "Fucking pathetic slut" She said, panting. "You think I haven't seen how you were looking at me?"

Uncousciousness was almost reaching you due to the lack of air, but nayeon wouldn't stop if you wanted to. You definitely didn't wanted to.

"You think - fuck - I didn't hear you whining in your dream for me to fucking cum on your pretty face?" She said, her hips moving with violence. It hurt so bad but felt way too good. "Now take it you filthy thing" She held your head with one hand and her cock with the other, splashing her hot semen all over your face as you closed your mouth and eyes. It was a never ending rope of thick white liquid, it really did the job for Nayeon as her hips stuttered. "Hell" She kept jerking off, squeezing every drop of her cum all over your face. "You look pretty now"

She took her sweaty uniform tshirt off, doing the same to you as she ripped it off of your skin. Manhandling you, she slapped your tits hard as you moaned, pulling you to get on your back, your knees pushed by her hands to your chest to show your whole swollen pussy for her. It was pulsing, leaking your arousal onto your asshole.

"Now that's what i'm talking about" nayeon didn't even stop to think, shoving her cock inside of you in one go, hissing.

"C-captain" You whined, hands grabbing her wrists as she suffocated your with her whole weight, holding your cum splashed face between her slender fingers to open your mouth for her to spit on your tongue.

"Filthy whore" Nayeon spat again, now on your face. Your pussy needed that attention, that heat inside of it.

"I'm gonna cum, god" you cried out and she fucked you even harder, your scalp tingling as your muscles spasmed.

"I don't give a fuck" She closed her eyes, chasing her own climax as yours washed over you just by hearing her degrading tone, the skin slapping so loud your were almost deaf by it, your breath being knocked out of you over and over. Your womb hurt with how much force she was putting behind each thrust.

You squeezed her cock so good, but she wanted something different. She pulled you up to turn you over in all fours, her big hands immediately finding your hips after she pushed you face down on the floor.

She spread your ass cheeks with both hands, gripping the skin so tight you could feel her nails digging in. Nayeon moaned, her eyes trained on where the two of your were connected, your pussy deliciously stretched around her big veiny dick.

"Oh you are swallowing me whole" She said, one of her fingers circling your asshole as you clenched. It was too much but you had nothing left in you to say or do anyhting.

She spat on her fingers before pushing her thumb past your entrance and your knees almost gave up on holding you. It hurt, it was humilliating.

"More" You sobbed, crying like you never had before. "Cap- please" You choked, rolling your eyes as one more finger was added inside your asshole, her cock furiously sliding in and out of you.

"Dumb little whore, you can't even speak properly and want more?" Nayeon moaned, her eyebrows furrowed together as her vision started to go white.

She was the Captain Im Nayeon and you were draining her. Resting her weight on her heels, not thrusting anymore only pulling you to her with her right hand as your ass swallowed two fingers of her left.

"Fucking hell" Nayeon closed her eyes, unable to hold back anymore. Holding your hips flush into hers she came, trembling, her sweat dripping down her face to your back.

Her cock throbbed inside you, spurting her cum each time it happened. You clenched, absolutely spent as she thrusted a few times, pulling it out at the same time she pulled her fingers, watching her cum ooze out of you and your asshole clench because of the sudden emptiness.

"You are a whiny little thing but damn..." She tapped your drenched pussy with her semi hard cock, eliciting a loud cry from you. "That's a good pussy" She breathed out, exhausted.

You fell forward spent, used, stretched, humiliated and so full of her cum. Watching her get up you closed your eyes, this time knowing very well your forbidden dream came true as you dozed off.

[talaok]

can i request a fic with joel miller? where he marks up readers neck with loads of hickeys and tommy and ellie ask about them?

idk whether joel would be embarrassed or proud lol, like ellie would be horrified or bully him depending on his attitude ig

love your blog!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

It was a beautiful sunny morning in Jackson, the sun was high up in the sky, the stove was working without any issues for once, and as you stood there, bare feet on the floor tiles, eggs frying in the pan... you took a moment to breathe, to enjoy the silence that spread around you... something so simple, and yet impossible to get as of lately.

And just like clockwork, as always, the moment you were starting to relax, the sound of fast-paced footsteps echoed from the hall, as Ellie came down the stairs at full force.

The day that kid didn't wake up with enough energy to power a whole city was gonna be the day the world came to an end.

You remained turned, as she sprinted through the door.

"Good morning" you smiled, turning your head to give her a brief smile, before getting back to the pan.

"Good morning!" She grinned, slightly out of breath as she sat at the kitchen table 

"did you sleep well?"

"I would have slept better if Joel had stopped snoring so loud the whole night"

You couldn't help but snort 

You loved that man with your whole heart... but she kinda had a point on that.

"Count your blessings" you laughed "At least you don't have to sleep next to him"

"Yeah I have no idea how you do that"

"me either" A soft chuckle left your throat

"so what's for breakfast?" 

"eggs" 

You could physically feel the disappointment take over her body.

"what a surprise" she grumbled "Never had those for breakfast before"

"hey!" you gasped, still inevitably smiling "Eggs are good for you, and you should be thankful I'm even cooking you breakfast, kid"

And although you could hear her sigh, the moment you turned, pan in hand to give her her breakfast, that shit-eating, fake grin she'd learned from Joel was plastered on her face, 

but that was only for a moment, because a second after, the smile, together with any type of joy, pretend or not, left her features.

"what happened to your neck?"

You frowned

"What?"

Her eyes were wide, worried, seemingly scared

"Y-your neck, what happened? Did You get hurt? Did someone hurt you? Does Joel kno-"

And only then, only when his name left her mouth did you realize what had happened, did you realize the mistake you'd made this morning.

"No Ellie" you shook your head, putting the pan down to place a gentle hand on her arm "It's... it's nothing, don't worry"

She shoved your hand away with a quick move as she argued

"What do you mean don't worry, your whole neck's red y/n! What happened?!"

"Nothing Ellie, I promise" A soft laugh threatened to spill from your lips as you tried to calm her down, but the girl resisted as she stood up suddenly, the chair screeching at the movement

"Why don't you wanna tell me what happened? I'm not a kid, I wanna know who did this to you!"

"Ellie, I-"

And just then, heavy footsteps entered the room.

"What's with all the screaming?"

Joel's disheveled self had joined the party, looking every bit of tired as he was.

He passed a hand through his messy hair, groaning lowly before his gaze settled on you and then on Ellie.

Ellie scoffed as her eyes widened even more

"Are you serious!?" she almost shouted, clearly done with the both of you "Are you blind? Something obviously happened to y/n e she doesn't wanna tell me what it is!"

You watched as every bit of sleep left his body, now tense and alert as he always was when danger was near

"What happened to you?"

But before Ellie could intervene and get even madder, you shut them both off as you rolled your eyes at Joel.

"My neck Joel" you explained, raising your brows "Ellie wants to know what happened to my neck, and since it's your doing... I'm gonna let you handle this"

And with one simple sentence, both their attitudes had changed 

You watched as the realization hit Joel, and then a moment later as the other realization hit

Your neck.

your neck was red and bruised,

and he knew why

Of course he knew why... he was why

"what do you mean it's his doing-"

Ellie's face was creased in puzzlement, but all you did was turn to Joel, waiting for him to dig himself out of the grave he'd dug.

"Ellie- I-" a heavy sigh fled his mouth as he shot you a -why do I have to do this- look, although he knew damn well why... mr "just one more".

"what, what happened?"

He cleared his throat, clearly struggling to hold the kid's gaze

"Well, Ellie" you didn't miss the way his voice cracked the tiniest bit in the middle "Y/n's neck is red because..." his expecting eyes traveled to you again

"Because?" Ellie asked, impatient.

"because well, Ellie when..." you watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed the sand in his mouth 

Funny how you'd seen this man do things that would make the average man piss his pants, without a hint of dread, and this was the most you'd seen him scared.

"Well, it's that... when-" he cleared his throat again, as his hand went to scratch the inexistent itch at the back of his neck "when- uhm- two adults love each other very much they... well they do-"

And thanks to some god somewhere Ellie stopped him before he could end the sentence

"Oh my god-stop!" she moaned, looking ready to throw up"I know what sex is Joel!"she gagged, looking between you two "So is-is that why your neck's..."

You only needed to give her a slight nod before another agonizing groan left her mouth "Oh my god-" her face contorted into a frown "that's - disgusting, you didn't have to tell me that!"

"You said you wanted to"

"yeah well I take it back!"

And even though you tried to stop her, calling for her, she had bolted out of the room before you could do anything, bumping into a figure as she did.

"woh" Tommy breathed, frowning as the kid flew past him, having let himself into your home once again

"what happened? Why is Ellie-" he asked, his brows pulled together in puzzlement, before they creased even more "Wait what happened to your neck?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly 

"That's what happened to Ellie" you breathed, still smiling "Your brother got a little too carried away last night"

You watched Joel roll his eyes as Tommy laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd heard in days

"'s that right?" he joked, throwing his brother a smug grin "And you tried explaining her just now, didn't you?"

"yeah" Joel grunted, waiting before Tommy inevitably laughed again, this time even going as far as throwing his head back.

"it ain't that funny" he argued, sighing loudly as he walked to you

"No, no you're right, You explainin' to a little girl about sex ain't funny at all" he snorted, laughing even louder somehow.

The moment he finished his little scene, you were both looking at him annoyedly, although a spark of amusement still ignited your eyes.

"alright, alright, I'll go talk to her" he held his hands up in defeat, "just leave me some of those eggs, 'm hungry" 

And that's all he said, before he was out of the room, leaving you and Joel alone

"Just one more huh?" you smiled, looking up at him, "my whole neck's red"

"why didn't you cover it?" he asked, which, to be honest, was a legitimate question, you always did cover it whenever something like this happened... which were more times than you liked to admit.

"Ah so now's my fault?" you cocked an eyebrow

"c'mon now, sweetheart, you mark me too" he argued

"yeah but where no one can see, baby"

And at that a lascivious smirk appeared on his lips as he gripped your waist "mmmh what can I do?" he breathed, his mouth hovering over your lips just to get lower to the reddened skin of your neck "i just can't help myself when I see this pretty neck"

And then once again, he was kissing it, softly starting to focus more just underneath your left ear

"Joel..." you whimpered

"what?"

"are you serious?" you chuckled, clinging to his arms 

"one more can't hurt at this point darlin'..."

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

ello', i was wondering if i could request something for firefly where the reader basically keeps trying to impress her in some way but it ends up backfiring on them in very dumb but funny ways but they do kinda feel sad they keep failing sort of thing

(H:SR) Firefly's S/O trying to impress her

Firefly likes to think that she isn't too hard to please, at least when in regards to her friends and loved ones.

But her S/O insists on trying to do things to "look cool", especially in front of her. Or more specifically, only for her.

That would put a blush on her face were it not for the fact S/O fails spectacularly at trying to be cool.

(S/O) "Hey, Firefly! Check this ou-"

Before they could even finish their sentence, S/O immediately fell on their face, letting the ball they were trying to catch land on their back.

Of course she was concerned, but Firefly would be lying if these shenanigans didn't put a smile on her face.

(Firefly) "U-Um, are you alright dear?"

The worst (or best part, depending on your point of view), was that this was far from a common occurrence.

Trying to stylishly do a flip into the water? Slipping and belly flopping.

Flipping a pancake? That's landing onto the floor.

At this point, Firefly just has a soft smile on her lips, intercepting S/O if they were about to get hurt at almost blinding speed as part of her arm morphs into her armor.

And she gently dusts their shoulders off, all the while her expression grows softer.

(Firefly) "There you are, good as new!...And don't worry about breakfast, I'll cook us something. I think the eggs you were frying are a bit...Well, burnt."

Firefly feels like she's falling in love with S/O all over again, though the reasons would probably put S/O in despair.

Were they cool? Aeons, no. But the fact they were trying so hard just for her was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Alongside with S/O almost getting killed a few times with their stunts.

[merakiui]

Azul who enchants a pussy pocket since it's mating season and he's too shy and nervous to ask reader. So he stuffs the reader with his eggs using the pussy pocket.

I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense, had a bit of trouble organizing my thoughts lol

This is the ideal solution to so many of Azul’s problems. He doesn’t have to show you his mer form, nor does he have to look biologically and emotionally vulnerable in front of you when he’s caught up in mating season heats. And he can also pump you full of eggs without having to actually look at you. He’s much more confident when he’s alone. One day he’ll gain the courage to show you his true form and one day another mating season will roll around in which he’ll finally take you into his arms and fuck you without the distance separating you or the help from the magical pussy pocket.

But for now, baby steps. He’ll make progress with you one day, but for now he’ll do it from the shadows.

Maybe you’re sleeping or maybe you’re in public or maybe you’re even working your shift at the lounge. No matter where you are and what you’re doing, the moment you feel fingers thrust up inside your pussy to stretch it in preparation for something, you nearly double over, curl into yourself, crumple… it’s a sensation that takes you by surprise, leaving you gasping and grasping for something to squeeze or hold so you can properly brace yourself and figure out what’s going on.

Maybe you try to ignore it, assuming it’s just a passing feeling. But then it persists and you’re quickly falling apart, sweating so much, chewing your lip bloody to keep any salacious sounds from slipping out. If you thought the fingers were unbearable, it’s when they’re removed and the tapered tip of something pokes at your hole that you begin to realize this is far from any fleeting feeling.

Azul’s so desperate in his pool, far past the point of keeping his composure, and he’s impatient to release his clutch. So he’s a little rough when he thrusts his hectocotylus so deeply, not entirely thinking of whether or not you can truly take so much of it. But he does imagine your expression, how you’d sound, what you might say, and even the little tummy bulge as it presses up against areas a normal human cock could never hope to reach. And it’s so tight and warm and wet inside you; he’s a mess, his pace hasty and determined. He doesn’t have the foresight to pretend like he isn’t affected; he’s a moaning mess under the water as he ruts into you, the tentacle thrust so far that it kisses your cervix. <3

There’s no time beneath the water. Not that it’s important at this moment. Not truly. Azul’s so focused on base desires, brought down to such a primal level by his own biological imperative, and so maybe it’s been hours of fucking or maybe it’s only been minutes. But eventually, finally, he’s filled you with enough slick to keep the eggs safe and sound. He’s flustered about the idea, about seeing you so round and full of him the next time he crosses paths with you. Maybe you’ve already guessed he’s responsible. Or maybe you have no idea, too confused and pleasured to think that far ahead.

He doesn’t count the eggs as they’re deposited in the depths of your womb. Rather, he just fucks, mindless and instinctual, until every last one has made its home inside you. It’s not an absurd amount—although by human standards it would surely be—but it’s just enough for now. In the future, he’ll turn you into a mer, keep you in the Coral Sea, and give you a larger clutch when he knows your body can handle it.

Azul could have painted you a dozen ways in his brilliant mind, but no amount of fantasy could prepare him for just how pretty you look when the twins guide you into his VIP room and you’ve just managed to squeeze yourself into a uniform, so round already. He has bad news for you; you’ll only get bigger as the eggs grow and the fry within mature. Hungrier, too. And moodier. And more hormonal. Mers fuck a lot when they’re pregnant. And when it comes time to lay, necessary preparations will need to be made… there’s so much to look forward to. So much planning. But he’s immensely happy, and he tries not to let it show while you, flustered and teary-eyed, try to explain your predicament while the twins leer.

Maybe you don’t need to know yet. For now, he’s just pleased to have overcome this mating season. And he has a family to look forward to, hoping most of them survive hatching, that is. But for now he’s happy. And you will be, too. Eventually.

[odinsblog]

“How do you enjoy life as the world burns? When the planet is on fire, and the country is falling apart, and the cops shoot another teenager, and half your neighbors are getting evicted or deported, and Bill Maher is still speaking out loud on television, what do you do? I go to the water park with my nephew Miles.

Miles is 12 years old. He is a brilliant, bow-legged troublemaker. I love him despite the fact that he's 12 and still has a rat tail. It's really not that cute anymore, dude. We're not related by blood, but Miles' dad, Kevin, is like a brother to me. So Miles calls me Uncle Josh.

Uncle Josh, when are we going to the Warriors game? Uncle Josh, will you show me how to open that car with a hanger again? Uncle Josh, Uncle Josh, since I'm half Black and half Asian, does that make me Blazian? No, Miles, that makes you Oakland.

It's August, and it's hot, which for the Bay Area, means anything above 67. Today, it's 91. I'm over at Kevin and Miles' place, sitting in no AC, in our tank tops and boxers, watching Key and Peele.

I say, guys, we gotta go somewhere to cool off. Cooler than the movie theater, cooler than the mall, I'm gonna take us to East Bay's water world. Miles' face lights up. But then Kevin says, I don't know you guys. I mean, those water parks, you know, they're so wasteful.

My man Kevin is the worst kind of Bay Area environmentalist. He's that type of dude who will come over your house and use the bathroom, not flush, but instead write a note on your toilet paper telling you how much water he just saved you. That's a true story.

I say, Kevin, it's so hot out here, I could fry an egg on your face, which I will if we don't go to East Bay Water World. Miles says, please dad. I say, please dad.

Kevin says, fine. Go have fun at the park, but take my car. It's a hybrid.

I grab the keys and soon me and Miles are driving through Oakland. We pass by the Trilingual Liquor Store, the farmer's market that accepts food stamps and we make our way through the tunnel and the hills. We emerge on the other side in the valley.

The further we get from the coast, the ground is drier and drier, browner and browner. The only green is the manicured lawns of the suburbs, the golf courses, the empty field of the sprawling county jail. And then we see it and we arrive at our Mecca, our oasis in the California desert, East Bay Water World. And it's even more beautiful than I imagined. There's four wave pools, there's a 50-foot water park, the air smells like chlorine and sunscreen and funnel cake. Delicious.

Miles' mouth is wide, staring at all these things he's never seen before. Carnival games, Dippin Dots, girls in bikinis, Uncle Josh, this place is awesome. I know, Miles. I know.

We go and we jump in the wave pool, we float down the lazy river, we spin through the whitewater rapids until we're totally drenched, grinning ear to ear and surprisingly thirsty. So I go to the funnel cake vendor for something to drink.

Can I get a bottle of water, please? He says, no problem. That'll be $7. $7 for a bottle of water? He looks at the bottle. It says, and he literally read off the bottle, it says this here is bottled and purified up near Lake Tahoe.

This is California water. California water. I buy two bottles and walk back to where Miles is pointing up towards the sky. I follow his gaze and then I see it. There, staring down at us from the tallest point in the park is the biggest water slide I've ever seen. The tallest slide in Northern California, the Annihilator.

The Annihilator is a seven-story, 80-foot freefall drop down all in just under five seconds. It's one of those slides that's so vertical, your back comes off the ride when you go down, so you feel like if you lean over just a little bit, you're done. It's the type of slide that's illegal in 27 states and most of the European Union, but hey, this is California.

I look and see Miles. His mouth is watering in anticipation. We go and get in line.

Now, the worst part of the Annihilator isn't the ride down. That's only five seconds. The worst part is the 30-minute wait in line, standing in the stairs watching and hearing every kid go down the slide, hearing every scream, every shriek, every, oh, sweet baby, Purple Jesus. The That's a direct quote from a nine-year-old. Shout out to Purple Jesus.

Miles is nervous. His hand is clenching the railing. Uncle Josh, is this thing safe?

Before I can answer, I hear a voice shouting from the top of the stairs, Hands up! Put your hands up!

Hands up!

It's the lifeguard, a tall white teenager in red shorts. He's yelling at the girl about to go down the slide. I'm telling you, it's way more fun if you put your hands up.

And the words hit me like a tsunami. It's August, two weeks after Ferguson, after Mike Brown. After those words, hands up became the calling cry for a movement.

In Missouri, people are putting their hands up to protest the police murdering another black boy in America. In California, I'm watching kids put their hands up as they go down a water slide called the Annihilator, and my nephew asks me if it's safe here. It's August in America.

In Detroit, they're shutting off poor people's water. California is suffocating of thirst. Half of my friends are putting buckets of ice over their faces on Facebook. Israel is bombing water treatment plants in Gaza, and in America, we have water parks in the desert. Industrial Almond Farms in the desert, prisons in the desert, my family, me and my nephew right here in the desert looking for anything that could be called an oasis. And Miles asked me if it's safe here.

What am I supposed to tell him?

I don't want to lie to my nephew. I want him to know that yes, some people will always see him as a threat, but I also want him to laugh and play and go get on this crazy ass waterslide.

How do you enjoy life as the world is burning? How do you teach your nephew to hate the park but love the ride? The thing is called the Annihilator. I think it might be trying to tell us something.

And now we're next in line. A girl with blonde pigtails is shaking her head. The lifeguard says, it's okay, you don't have to do it.

She backs away and now Miles is up.

He steps to the edge of the slide, puts his feet in the rushing water.

I can see the brown hills in the distance, Oakland and all its beautiful contradictions waiting on the other side. I wave at Miles, say, you got this. You got this, dude.

And he waves back at me, and when he does, he lets go of the railing. His hand shoots up in the air and the rushing water carries him away. He lets go. He shoots out and disappears over the edge. My nephew!

I rush to the side and look over, and there's Miles at the bottom of the slide, safe and alive and pulling up his bathing suit. He jumps up and runs to get back in line, and the cycle continues. Water, blood, life, death, and maybe rebirth.

I'm still on the top platform of the slide.

I walk to the edge, look down at California, lift my hands, and let go.”

—Mr. Josh Healey

[kittyball23]

Hey, Kittyball23, I was hoping for the fanfiction of the birth of the Broppy baby, whenever you're ready to publish it.

Ready now!

Baby (a Trolls fanfic)

“Ugh, how long is this gonna take?”

Clay looked at Viva as though she had grown a second head. “How long?” he asked. “Rhonda’s parked just outside the clearing. We’re literally two seconds away from reaching it!”

“Yeah!” John Dory piped up. “Hold your horses there, girlie, we’ll get to camping soon enough!”

“No, not that,” Viva clarified. “I mean, how long until the baby?!” she said, tossing the pleading eyes at her younger sister, and glancing longingly up into her bright pink hair, where she and Branch’s unborn egg was still safely incubated.

Poppy giggled. “Viva, it’s not long now! It’s any day!”

“I know,” she moaned, “but, heck, how do you know when it’s gonna happen?”

“We don’t,” Branch explained. “But Dr. Moonbloom said when it’s time, we’ll know. Especially once Poppy says - “

“The baby is coming!!”

“Exactly!”

“No, Branch!” Poppy cried, grabbing onto his arm. “The baby IS coming! It’s coming, like, NOW!”

The blue troll froze. “Now? Like now, NOW?!”

Poppy responded only with situating herself at the nearest mushroom that could support her weight and bracing.

It was at this point that everybody else began to react.

Viva was absolutely bursting at the seams. “OmigoshomigoshomiGOSH!!!” she gushed, over and over, bouncing around in an uncontrolled ball of energy.

Floyd offered reassurance. “Everything will be alright, Poppy, just remember to breathe.”

“Floyd’s right! Just stay calm and breathe, Poppy, BREATHE!” Branch said, although he himself was not as calm in his tone of voice, and sounded more like he was ready to have a heart attack. Smacking a leaf mask onto his face he approached Poppy with frantically waving arms. “Just remember your training!”

“Training?” John Dory blurted out next to him. “What training? We don’t have any training!”

“NOT YOU, man!” Clay cried. “He’s talking about Poppy!”

But the Pop Queen brushed them all off. “Guys, we don’t need any training. All I literally have to do is just put out my arms” - she put them out - “and get ready to hug!” she demonstrated, beaming.

“Luck favors the prepared!” Branch countered.

“I think you mean the crazy-prepared,” Bruce amended, “but, I have to agree with Branch on this one. It’s better to take at least some precautions.” With that, the experienced father began to shout out orders. “All right, you get some towels,” he said, motioning to Clay, “and you get some hot water,” he said, motioning to Floyd. “And - “

“What can I do?” John Dory asked, grinning hopefully.

Bruce’s eyes widened, having not exactly thought of a task for their oldest brother - aside from standing out of the way. “Err…”

“Come on, I’ve got tons of supplies that could be helpful! Look!” He reached into his green hair and pulled out a frying pan. “Ah, see? This will work, right?”

“Yes,” Bruce said sarcastically. “And I know just how…” He snatched it from his hands, and whacked JD upside the head!

“OUCH!” the Troll whined. “What was that for?”

“Does it look like we’re frying chicken?! Or scrambling eggs?” “WHATT’YOU MEAN THE EGG IS SCRAMBLED??”

Bruce whirled around at the sound of his frantic younger brother’s voice. His younger brother, whose eye was twitching, and was just about on the edge of a nervous breakdown!

“WHOA Branch, chill, I wasn’t talking about you guys’ egg!” Bruce attempted to clarify. “Everything is going splendid. Right, Poppy?” he called out to his sister-in-law.

“I’ll say it has,” Poppy giggled, “Jr.’s been enjoying the whole show!”

“See, Branch?” Bruce said to him. “There’s nothing to worry abou - “

“Jr.?” Branch questioned, interrupting.

“Jr.?” Clay and Floyd echoed, having just returned with the items that they were sent to get.

Slowly, all five brothers glanced over towards Poppy’s direction -

- and their breaths were taken away at the sight that met them.

Because right there - cradled in her arms and with her Auntie Viva gushing over them - was the baby, having hatched as the frantic new father was flustering about.

OUR baby, Branch reminded himself as he met Poppy’s sparkling fuschia gaze with calm, yet emotional, teary eyes.

“Poppy…” he whispered, touched, heart so full of love that no other feeling was possible to be occupying his emotions.

Bruce recognized this moment - having felt it so many times before himself, when Brandy had had their children - and ushered their brothers away.

“All right, come on, guys,” he said, “it’s time to give them some privacy.”

“But the baby!” John Dory exclaimed, clearly wanting to meet his niece or nephew.

“I’m sure we’ll have our chance,” Floyd said optimistically, patting him on the back.

“Well… okay,” JD said, pouting in a way that made him not at all look like the eldest of their bunch, but ultimately complying.

“And that goes for you, too, Viva,” Clay said with a meaningful look.

“Aw…” She pouted, but knew he was right, and followed him. Viva took one last peek over her shoulder before heading off. “Kinda makes me wanna have one of my own,” she said, casting a look heavy with implication at him.

Clay blushed. “O-oh! Well, um, I, um… maybe it will happen one day,” he replied.

She snuggled beside him and grinned. “That would be great.”

And as they trekked off, it was only Branch and Poppy left to themselves.

“Come on,” Poppy said, gesturing to him from where he was still a distance away. “She wants to meet you.”

“It’s a girl?” he asked, mystified.

Poppy nodded, and indeed, Branch could see the little lashes on her eyes and the adorable little smile that looked so much like her mother’s that it took his breath away. He, however, could see his own features on the child as well, indicative with her indigo hair, and bluish skintone. Slowly, he moved forward, each step becoming lighter and more eager than the next, until finally he was next to them.

He looked down at the baby.

The baby looked up at him.

Both smiled at each other.

“She’s… gorgeous,” he finally said.

The baby sweetly giggled in response.

He reached out, ready to caress her, but paused. “Can I… touch her?”

Poppy gave him a baffled look. “Can you? You’re the father! Of course you can!”

She transferred her to Branch’s awaiting arms, the baby giggling again.

“Daddy’s silly, isn’t he?” Poppy said, smirking.

Branch would’ve thought of a comeback, but he was completely enraptured by the small child he was holding. The most wonderful representation of their love for one another, and the greatest gift she had given him; his entire being seemed to glow with pride and love, and a warm feeling filled every corner of him.

"She's wonderful, isn't she?" Poppy sighed, equally as fascinated.

"Yeah..." he replied, and then spoke to the baby. "It's great to finally meet you... um..." Branch faltered, realizing that he didn't even know exactly what to call her!

"Oh, right, we need a name!" Poppy stated excitedly. She hummed in thought for a second, and then came up with a suggestion. "How about... Baby Branch?"

"Uh, she's a girl."

"I know, I'm kidding," she giggled. "It's just, she wouldn't even be this cute if it weren't for you, right?"

Branch chuckled. "I beg to differ," he said, nudging her playfully, in a way that let her know that she was also a contributor to the baby's adorableness. But when he tried to think of a name that would be unique and suitable, his mind was drawing a blank.

Poppy could see this, and she asked, “What was your grandma’s name?”

“Rosiepuff,” he answered.

“How about that?” she suggested.

“Really?”

“It’s nice, don’t you think? And I like it.”

It is. But Branch had another idea. “How about just Rosie?” It was an homage to his grandmother, and also allowed their baby to have her own distinction.

“Rosie,” Poppy repeated, testing it out, and liking it very much. She wasn’t the only one who liked it. The baby squirmed and smiled in response.

“I think that would work,” she agreed, first leaning in to peck little Rosie on her forehead, and then sharing a kiss with Branch. He wrapped an arm around Poppy’s shoulder and cuddled the baby close to them with the other, fully content with the decision and the new life produced.

“Can we come see now?”

The new parents looked up to find Viva and the rest of the bros, huddled together some paces away, seeming all-too-ready to greet the newborn.

They laughed. “Yes, you can,” Branch assured, feeling much more relaxed than he did before.

Viva beamed. “YAY!” She whizzed over and was the first to reach her sister’s side. “AWW, sis! I’m so happy for you!” Then she peered down at the baby and all but died from the sheer overload of delight. "Oh my gosh, helloooOOOO!" she gushed, in just about the same way she did when first meeting Poppy and Branch on their journey to Mount Rageous. "My name's Viva! Or, in your case, AUNTIE Viva!"

"Didn't you already introduce yourself, V?" Poppy giggled.

"It doesn't hurt to do it again!" Viva exclaimed, and then grabbed onto Clay's arm. "Oh, Clay, isn't she the most precious little thing you've seen?!"

Clay sucked in a breath, looking like he was trying to keep himself in control. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry… I promised myself I wouldn’t cry," he mumbled, looking like he was very much on the verge of bursting into joyous tears.

Next to him, Floyd's lip trembled and his eyes misted over. "I didn't," he admitted, and then promptly broke into a sob.

"On behalf of all of us, Branch, congratulations," Bruce said, smiling proudly at his brother. "From one dad to another, I think you're gonna be a great father." And then, to Rosie he said, "And I have a feeling you're gonna have plenty of playdates with my kiddos."

John Dory jumped in at this. "Yeah! And just wait till you meet your cousin Rhonda!"

Bruce looked at him bewilderedly. “Cousin?”

JD rolled his eyes. “DUH! That’s how cousins work, right? Children of siblings? Am I right?” He extended his arms out like it was so obvious.

“But… But Rhonda’s not actually your child!” Bruce pointed out.

JD sighed. “Still going on about that? Sheesh.” Sure his daughter might be a 3-foot-long caterbus and not a little trolling, but she was still his daughter!

“Anyway,” Bruce said, not wanting to touch on the subject any longer and drawing his attention to the Trolls of the hour, “Congrats!”

Branch smiled, grateful for all his brothers sincerity in their praise. "Thanks, guys… really. You're all gonna be great uncles."

"Or in John Dory's case, a great-great uncle," Clay joked.

John Dory beamed, not quite getting it. "Thanks, bro!"

"He meant it cuz you're old," Bruce said, smirking mischievously.

JD scoffed. "HEY!"

But his mood dissolved when Rosie smiled up at him, amused by her eldest uncle. "Awww, look at you, girlie. You got your mom and pop all over ya! And if you don't believe me... hooo! Have I got some Bitty B photographs for YOU to see!"

Branch gasped and shot him a murderous look. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, I would," John Dory teased, "but right after this!" And then he hugged Branch tightly, very close to smothering him under the weight of his affection.

"John Dory!" Branch muffled, but found it to be a useless effort trying to worm his way out of the hug, with the way that the other bros were surrounding him in a huge embrace as well! His protests were ignored, especially when Poppy encouraged the matter by calling out "HUG TIME, EVERYONE!" Baby Rosie was carefully cuddled in the midst of it all, everyone beyond elated at the prospect of their expanded family.

And what else could Branch do in that moment? Well, nothing except relishing in that feeling of being surrounded by the ones he loved and who loved him.

That’s what.

[featherandferns]

ik this isn’t a prompt but i’m in love with the idea of jj calling the reader mama like maybe in bed or just being affectionate. they don’t have kids but it’s just a name he’s given her

"mama's mad" is still one of the best quotes of the show, so i've got u here. hope this is okay! idk why a lot of my stuff is set at breakfast time in the chateau. maybe i'm craving bacon (my poor vegetarian ass is suffering)...

(content warning - mentions of sex)

“If you two could screw a little quieter next time, there’d be no complaints here,” Kiara says to JJ the moment he walks into the kitchen on Sunday morning.

JJ makes his way straight to the counter where some bacon has been served up. He gladly grabs at it.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he replies, biting down into a piece of crispy strip.

John B is cooking eggs on the hob whilst Sarah leisurely slices lemons and oranges by his side, for infused water.

“Will you?” Kie asks.

“Probably not, nah,” JJ grins. She rolls her eyes.

“Where is your girl, anyway?” John B asks from the stove.

JJ opens the fridge and retrieves the carton of OJ, taking a swig.

“Napping. Didn’t get much sleep last night,” JJ can’t help but add with a slimy grin.

“You’re shameless, JJ,” Sarah sighs.

“You know it, princess,” he winks. He watches as Kiara starts mixing together ingredients in a bowl. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes.”

“Oh, nice,” he hums. “Lemme see if mama wants any.”

By mama, he obviously means you. It’s a given that any ‘mama’ in JJ’s sentences refers to you; something the Pogues and yourself have casually come to accept. The moment you and JJ stopped beating around the bush and fessed up to your feelings like the semi-mature teenagers you are (it was practically a battle of who-dare-say-it-first), he had taken to calling you it. You weren’t exactly sure why. Had teased him about whether he had a mommy kink in private (which he neither confirmed nor denied). Mostly he did it to joke. It sounded nice in his northern accent, anyway. Drawled off the tongue smooth and sweet like honey. So, no complaints from any party, unless JJ got vulgar with it in front of the Pogues (which was fairly often, with it being JJ).

Heading down the hall, JJ pushes open the spare bedroom door and darts his head in. You’re still in bed, lounging on your back, hair a mess and neck covered in healing and forming love bites. JJ grins, proud like a kid winning a science fair contest.

“Yo, mamma bear? Pancakes or bacon?”

“Why do I have to pick between them?”

“Fair point. You want both then?”

“Mhm,” you sigh lazily, eyes shut. “Coffee too, if there is any.”

JJ cringes. “Think Pope made some.”

“Yikes. No, then.”

“You got it mama.”

With that, he wanders back into the kitchen and grabs a plate from the drying rack of the sink. It’s always piled high with pots like some rip-off modern art project. The leaning tower of pots and pans. He dumps some bacon on, holds out his plate for John B to serve up some eggs - straight from the pan - and makes Kie promise to save some pancakes. Then he’s back in the bedroom, two forks in hand, climbing back into bed to share the morning fry-up with you.

“This is the life,” you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as you eat.

JJ smiles and nods. You’re right. You’re always right, to be honest - not that he’d ever confess it. Only one of you needs a big ego, and JJ likes to think he’s claimed that spot.

“Wanna fish later?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Don’t mind really. As long as I’m with you.”

“Aw,” he grins, nudging you with his shoulder, making you laugh. He can see the flush to your features when he does. “You going soft on me, mama?”

“Only you,” you grin up at him.

JJ can’t take it when you look at him like that – like he hung the stars just so you can stand under them – so he grabs a strip of bacon and shoves it in your smiling mouth, making you laugh.

Yeah, this is the life.

[laurentidal]

Drink Deep

I returned from my run to a quiet house. I'd expected to hear the sounds of my wife getting ready for her day; a shower running, an egg frying. But instead I heard only silence.

I was worried she'd slept through her alarm. It didn't happen often, but it wouldn't have been the first time. If I woke her now, she'd still have time to get ready. If she hurried.

I walked into the bedroom and sure enough, there she was under the blanket. But when I pulled it back, I gasped. That wasn't my wife in my bed. It was another woman. Naked and grinning ear to ear. It set my mind on edge, and I actually recoiled as if in danger. I didn't know it then, but I couldn't have been more right.

"Ah, you're home," the strange woman said. She reached for a wine glass on the bedside table I hadn't seen when I came into the room. "We've been expecting you."

"We?" I choked out. "Where's Eva? Who are you?"

The questions tumbled out of my mouth like marbles. Still she smiled calmly. Almost happily. Her face was inviting even as my hair stood on end.

"She's right there, darling."

She pointed to a dark corner of the room and I turned to look. Eva stepped out of the shadow, wearing nothing but a smile of her own. But hers looked different. Deranged. Almost drunk.

"We've been getting to know each other while you've been away. Running. Exercising. Getting that heart beating so fast and hard."

Eva kept walking toward me as the woman spoke, and there was something about her that seemed so wrong. The wobbly smile. The slow trudge. And a red glint in her eyes. I was so focused on her eyes. In the low light of the room those red irises seemed to glow in a way that made the rest of the world fade away.

By the time she reached me, I'd stopped listening to the stranger completely. All I could see was the two red rings. Glowing. Pulsing. Pulling. Holding. She touched my neck with her fingers and she felt cold.

My mind rebelled, trying to find anything to hold onto so it wouldn't be pulled down into her eyes. It screamed that there was an intruder in our bed. There was something wrong with Eva. Skin shouldn't be so cold. But none of these dangers found purchase in my consciousness. I only heard the stranger's sweet voice. She was right behind me now, whispering into my ear while I stared blankly into the eyes of the woman who was once my wife.

The woman went silent for just a moment before I felt the pain in my neck. Sharp stabbing of two fangs that felt in that moment like the highest pleasure I've ever known. My eyes closed in rapture as Eva leaned in and sank her new fangs into the other side. A dark stain appeared in the front of my pants as I erupted from the feeling. I hadn't even noticed how hard I'd gotten. Red stains began to grow on the shoulders of my t-shirt. Darkness took me.

When I woke, I knew I was changed. My body felt stiff but strong. And the world appeared to have a soft red filter. My wife and my Mistress sat on the bed above me.

"Welcome back," they said. "We're going to do such wonderful things together."

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“It’s about the gun.” “You got it working?” Dick’s voice wasn’t clear, munching on something crunchy and loud. “I need to do several tests first, but… Yeah, I think so.”

Chapter 13 < > Chapter 15 [soon]

Masterlist

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog @katrina0-0 @readingfictionnothingelse @lookingforsyd @jackrabbitem @lvlythea @qmabailor @whore-of-many-hot-men @blackthorngirl

If anyone else would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Taking a deep breath, you calmed your racing heart, a feeble attempt to rid of the shaking in your hands, peering at your unsuspecting prey, oblivious to the hell that would rain down upon him any second now.

Tim had helped you set up everything in place, at the moment waiting for him to be done on his side. “Ready?” He whispered. Adrenaline pumping your veins, you nodded, a brief glance at him revealed he was already in place, his body and face impassive, no emotion reflected in them.

Through the lens, you searched for your enemy once more. You felt the need to lay your elbows on the handrail for extra support despite that the stabilizer Tim had given you was enough to balance everything.

He’d move since the last time you locked him in your sight, moving slightly to the left to get your mark into focus, fiddling with the camera on his hands, looking through the photos that were undoubtedly of you.

“On the count of three. Three, two, one… Now!”

The once tidy up man, with a clean white shirt had soon been overwhelmed by splashes of (barely) red, and (mostly) yellow paint covering each centimeter of his body. As expected, Tim’s shots landed on the paparazzi 99% of the time, and while you’d some luck to hit him on the left shoulder and his back, most of your shots ended on the trees and the driveway around.

Cackling like mad, both you and Tim didn’t relent, your anger subsiding with every jump from side to side the man was doing in his attempt to avoid the paint pellets, succeeding the minute he found his car keys —a pristine, beautiful car now your new motivation, as it was an easier target.

Even though it was short-lived, this is probably the most fun you had in a long while.

The moment you couldn’t see the car anymore, you and Tim shared a high-five. “Excuse me.” A cold, gravelly voice behind you chilled every bone in your body, rooted in its place and too afraid to make a movement and bring down Alfred’s ire upon yourself. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“It was Tim’s idea!” You blurted out, pointing at him while he looked at you, mouth agape, surprised and rightly betrayed. 

“I don’t care whose idea it was. This is an idiotic, foolish thing you’ve both done. You will clean up the driveway—”

“Jane’s the one that made the whole mess by failing, why should I clean?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry, I forgot we all had to be shooting prodigies.”

“You had a stabilizer! And you still failed!”

“Children!” You’d never heard Alfred raise his voice quite like now, his left eye twitching, and the crease between his brows deepening. “I frankly don’t care who failed and who didn’t, you should know better.”

Your cheeks had gotten so red you could fry an egg on them. You’d come to respect Alfred after all your time here, the shame consuming you at seeing him so disappointed in you.

“Yes, Alfred.” Both you and Tim mumbled. Theres was no point in arguing further with him. No one could ever win against him.

The man placed a hand in front of him, wordlessly ordering to hand over the paint guns, complying without a word. “There are buckets and rags in the utility closet in the lower floor. I’d advise you to start now if you do not wish to miss lunch.”

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

“Missed a spot. There.” Cass had woken up from her nap in the middle of you and Tim cleaning, seating herself atop a concrete pillar. You moved towards where she was pointing. The paint had already begun to dry, making it harder to clean, not to mention how hard it was to clean grass, plucking the paint covered parts and letting the wind take them away when you had enough.

“Can’t believe you would out me like that.” Tim grumbled. “I trusted you, Jane. Shame on you.”

“Against Alfred’s ire, it’s every woman for herself.”

Cass chuckled, her feet swinging one after the other, her heels thumping against the column. The cleaning continued in silence up until the distant sound of a car approaching made you three stop, waiting for the car to get closer and see who it was.

Could it be the reporter again? No, this car was different —and clean—, so unless the man was stupid enough to come back and risk getting another car a new paint job, it had to e someone else.

“Brother!” Cass exclaimed when the driver had gotten out of the car, jumping down from the fence straight to Dick’s arms. “I missed you!”

“Aww, I missed you too, Cass.” Dick let go of her, rounding the left opened door of his car, a frown on his face when he noticed you two. “Hey guys, what are you doing?”

“My punishment for being a good person and helping a traitor.”

“I swear, Timothy, I’m going to put salt in your coffee.”

“Oh, so now I’m being threatened. For shame.”

You threw your rag to his face, your less than good aiming not even getting it close to him. Tim broke into a wheezing fit, holding his stomach and balancing himself until his back hit the grass.

“Don’t forget, Drake, I know where you live.” Tim’s chuckles were joined by those of Dick’s.

“I’m definitely missing a lot of context here. I can only gather you’ve been spending a lot of time with Damian, Jane.”

Prepared for Dick’s arrival, Alfred had busied himself with cooking some of Dick’s favorites meals. The kitchen a combination of wonderful smells of dishes you’d never heard of before.

Having meals with so few people felt weird now, having grown accustomed to all the chatter and bickering Damian and mostly Steph would make. Today it was only Dick, Cass, Alfred, and you. Tim had to leave in a hurry after a PR disaster involving a higher up employee —Something about embezzlement or something like that.

“So, what’s space like?” You asked in between bites.

“Oh, you know, just the usual.”

“Unbelievable that not only you went to space, but also other planets and the only thing you can say is ‘Just the usual.”

Dick chuckled.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Uh.” He took a sip of his drink, clearing his throat. “It’s usually hard to enjoy the scenery when time’s not on your side. Green Lantern was being accused of genocide, and, well, the penalty would be execution if he was guilty, so you’ll understand why we were so desperate to find out what was going on.”

“Did he do it?”

“Of course not. He thought he did it, as an accident, but someone was trying to frame him. They used holograms to make it seem like the planet was destroyed.”

“That’s horrible! Why would someone do that?”

“In simpler words? Power.”

Just how taxing is it to be a superhero or a vigilante? To have the weight of the world on your shoulders, to constantly be risking your life for people that most likely wouldn’t even give you the time of day on a normal afternoon. How can they keep their heads cool knowing that if they fail, it’s literally quite possible for their whole word to cease to exist?

“So,” Dick spoke again. “How much did you and Tim messed up to get reprimanded like that?”

You groaned, letting your head dramatically fall to the table. Cass was laughing and you could hear the awfully loud sigh of disappointment from Alfred.

“In my defense, it was an extremely disgusting article.”

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

Just like Tim said, no one else, be it the newspapers, gossip shows or any random citizen in social media even mentioned the article. Your appearance in the media had practically gone unnoticed.

After your whole explanation to Dick, —and after his disgust had passed— he assured you as well Bruce’s reputation would not be tainted, a fact you confirmed with each hour that passed and nothing else came up.

However, he stressed that if you still wanted, you could sue them for slander. Or they could, since getting involved in that kind of legal issues would bring a whole new wave of unnecessary worries and attention from the public eye to the Wayne’s, mainly; you don’t exist. Not legally, at least.

You let it be. No need to bring unwanted attention to the family.

              | Why are my classmates asking about you?

Oh, you hadn’t thought about telling Damian. Nor how he would take to the article.

              | Because I’m so cool and awesome and everyone wants to hang out with me? ;)

              | And why are they calling you my mother?

              | I’ll tell you, alright? Just, trust me, it’s nothing. Tim and I took care of it. https://www.gotham.weekly/bruce-wayne’s-biological...

You were actually scared of how he would react, knowing the kid, he would probably make a surprise appearance at the newspaper’s HQ with his swords and threaten everyone inside.

He was taking a while to reply. Was he on his way to the manor or did he have some kind of retractable swords he carried anywhere? You wouldn’t be surprised.

Or maybe he simply was caught texting during class.

Honestly, both were quite possible. Still, you wouldn’t try to call him in case he was actually in class, paying attention or something. You tapped on the article’s link one more time. Even if it was revolting the things people would write for engagement, and you would unfortunately remember this incident every time you looked at them, you needed to download the photos, ignoring the motives as to why they were taken, they were still nice pictures. And you would print all the photos that you could before going back, something to remind you all of this wasn’t a dream.

Your heart sank the moment you opened the link, and it sent you to the white, ‘404 not found’ screen.

              | I took care of it.

Oh. Well, that was... Quite a better reaction than you expected.

              | Thank you, Dami :)! Wish I’d saved the photos first, tho.

              | image1.jpg, image2.jpg.

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

As soon as Damian had discovered Dick had come back, he wandered to him like a magnet, never leaving his side. Every time you walked near them, the only thing you could hear was Damian narrating him all the things he did while he was gone.

You were relieved Damian had all but forgotten about your ‘lessons’, you loved he wanted to teach you how to protect yourself, but your body was still extremely sore, and hurting, and you wouldn’t be able to handle another night of practice.

Walking down the corridor to your room, you were ready to call it quits for the day, even if it was early. The living room was usually empty at this hour, with everyone in the house getting ready down in the cave for patrol, that’s why, when a familiar set of voices mentioning a very particular word reached your ears, curiosity sparked in you.

“It’s about the gun.”

“You got it working?” Dick’s voice wasn’t clear, munching on something crunchy and loud.

“I need to do several tests first, but… Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s great, Timmy!”

“Yeah…” Tim’s voice was gravelly, lacking the same enthusiasms his older brother had. “But Jane…”

“I know, I’ll miss her too. But she has her own life to go back to.”

“It’s not that, Dick—I, the math, I did it—”

You stopped listening the moment Damian turned the corner, a brow raised and coming to a halt when he saw you. Alfred the cat was calmly perched on his arms, jumping down at the lack of movement, stretching for a second before walking away.

With a nervous smile, you walked to him, away from the living room. “Why were you spying on my brothers?” Well, at least he’s calling Tim his brother.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were.”

“They were talking about that alien gun thing, and my world, was I not supposed to listen?”

“There is something called privacy,” The crease on his forehead deepened. “even if you are the topic of their talk. They will let you know when they are ready to do so.”

You opened your mouth, but no words left, whatever futile retort dying on your tongue. It was a whole level of humiliating to being scolded by a ten-year-old, even if that kid was Damian. Because, yeah, even if it wasn’t your intention at first, you were listening in. But it truly was impossible not to when weeks had gone by and not a single peep had been said about your situation. Whenever you brought it up with Tim, his ever-ready response was ‘working on it.’ Each time. Nothing more, nothing less.

And he was working on it, there was no doubt about it, even if he was doing so purely to get his dad back, or to help you as well, it didn’t matter.

But you were starting to feel uneasy for a second time, just like your first days here. There was something in the way he always said it; unsure, distant, avoiding your gaze while changing the topic. So, yeah, sue you for wanting to be in the know.

“How was school?”

“Bearable.” You chuckled, walking alongside him up the stairs leading to the second floor, the sun setting in the horizon. “I researched the clubs per your request.”

“Suggestion, Damian. Suggestion.”

“There is a voluntary program in an animal shelter, Friday evenings. And… It is not for students only. Anyone can go.”

“You’re saying you want me to go with you?”

“If that is what it takes to keep you from snooping around.”

He said it so nonchalantly, an afterthought, yet you noticed through the reflection of one of the mirrors in the hall how he kept glancing at you.

“Of course I’ll be there.”

His shy, small smile almost made you want to pinch his cheeks like an old lady, but you still appreciated having an un-broken hand, settling for messing up his hair.

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

You’d been here for weeks, and the beds at Wayne Manor still felt so surreal as your first night here. The satin bedsheets were still as smooth as ever, the pillows were never hot, no matter how high the temperature was, and in all, you always slept like a baby.

You wondered if they had some kind of magic in them to be so damn comfortable all the time.

Considering just who this house belongs to, you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Every night you would fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, not waking up until your alarm went off. This morning was different; a soft, but repetitive thud, thud against the window woke you from your slumber. Sluggishly, you grabbed a cushion to place over your ear to muffle the sound of whatever bird thought your room was the perfect place to be annoying.

It seemed luck was not on your side, the noise getting louder and faster. You groaned, throwing the cushion and blanket to the side, tapping the cold floor with your feet to find your slippers in the dark. A quick look to your phone, eyes squinting at the bright screen, revealed it was fifteen to five. Not even five in the morning. When you slid open the curtains, you expected to see a spooked bird flying away.

There was a bird. Just not the type you expected.

Sitting on the window’s ledge, a raised hand ready to knock once again, hanging in the air at noticing the curtain moving, a soft smile replaced his calm look once he took in your disheveled hair and sleepy hair.

You, on the other hand, had an opposite reaction, an audible gasp escaping you, covering your mouth with both hands a second later, turning to face the door and see if anyone had heard you.

“What are you doing?” As much as you wanted to yell at him, you had to do it in whispers, doing so right after you unlatched the lock to open the window, sticking your head out, a shiver running down your body caused by the chilly morning breeze, your knee-length shorts and sleeveless shirt not suited to properly warm you.

“Told you I’ll take you on a date.”

“At five in the morning?”

“Yep.”

You moved to the side when he got up from the edge to get inside your room, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him crouched so unbothered, half of his feet resting on air. You knew he had incredible balance and reflexes, but you couldn’t suppress the need to step forward and grab him so he wouldn’t fall. You didn’t do anything of the sorts, instead letting the cold air keeping for face fixed from the crisis your mind was going through.

“I promise it’s going to be worth it.” His feet landed without a sound, closing the window behind him.

“It’s going to be worth it. I promise.”

“All guys say the same thing, you know.”

“I’m not like other guys.” As soon as the words left his lips, his grin turned into a grimace, and you were a spectator of how hard he was cringing internally, hiding his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. Which, you now noticed, he wasn’t wearing his Red Hood suit, but simply jeans and a red sweatshirt. The tips of his hair were wet, yet when you looked out the window, the cobbled paths and grass lighted up by the garden lamps were dry.

To help him avoid more embarrassment, you asked once again.

“What could be worth it at this hour?”

He sat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the straps of his hood. Even sitting down, you still weren’t taller than him, instead now being eye level.

“Trust me. Just change into something warm and comfortable.”

You took one last look at him before walking into your closet, gathering in your arms an outfit like his, a pair of jeans and a basic gray jumper. On your way to the bathroom, you pretended to be cleaning the sweater from invisible dust. What were you supposed to do if he was also looking at you? Smile? Say something? Look intently at him like a weirdo?

Before you could completely close the door, you heard him talk to himself, “‘Not like other guys?’ Seriously?” His groan drowned the click of the door closing, a smile on your face. It seems you’re not the only one nervous tonight.

Letting go of the door knob, you exhaled. You have no clue what he’s planning to do, and your sleep laded brain couldn’t conjure up any plausible or logical idea. And the time it was taking you to get ready was making you self-conscious on top of already feeling anxious and giddy, but you simply cannot go out with Jason with practically a bird nest on your hair, and never in a million years would you kiss him with morning breath.

That last thought made you pause halfway through putting your hair up with a bat-shaped hair claw —a claw Cass had gifted you the only time you went out to the mall.

That wasn’t going to happen, would it? There was no reason for him... What if he’s just— Oh who are you kidding? Why else would he take you on a date at the crack of dawn? Why bother if he’s not going after something? So, he was going to kiss you. Maybe.

But why did that hurt more than it made you happy?

“You ready?” He asked when you left the bathroom. With a nod of affirmation, he stood up, opening the door for you.

You didn’t even want to breathe, thinking that every exhale would be loud enough to be heard throughout the manor, your steps were cautious, deliberate, and slow. Meanwhile, Jason was already waiting for you at the end of the corridor, his steps made no sound, his training so ingrained in his mind and body it was second nature to move like a shadow, even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose. It was impressive, honestly.

“Slowpoke.” He whispered when you were in his reach.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t take bat-training when I was twelve, they didn’t offer it at my school.”

Jason chuckled. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

Late for what, you wondered? If anything, you would be too early for everything.

It got easier to walk the farther you got from all the rooms, getting out of the manor through a sliding door that led to the garden, from there walking like normal to the driveway.

“Now what?” You asked, there was no way this wouldn’t wake them up, as you knew how loud the fence mechanism was. Jason said nothing, instead walking towards you and placing a hand on your waist.

“Don’t scream.”

“Huh?”

Before you could react, he pulled a grappling gun from his pocket, pointing it to a sturdy tree branch and firing it in less than a second. Your feet left the ground, going higher and higher, feeling the strength of gravity trying to pull you down, only succeeding once you were over the fence and falling to the other side.

“I’m honestly impressed, most people scream their first time.” You didn’t tell him it was because you were too stunned to react. But you would admit it was an amazing experience. “Come.”

He gestured for you to follow him. The darkness brought in your terrible memories, walking as close as you could to Jason, not wanting the shadows to consume you. Of course, the proximity meant your hands would graze each other with every step, the feeling grounding you and not letting your fears to overwhelm you.

Besides endless rows of trees spaced out so evenly they didn’t look real, there wasn’t much else around. The moonlight shone above the grass; the light being reflected by the morning dew.

You wanted to know so badly what was going on inside his head, daring only once to cast a rapid glance at him, his face calm, eyes focused on the road ahead, as if searching for something. You wanted to know what holding his hand again would be like, without the lingering fear and anxiety of waking up from a Fear Gas induced nightmare.

After the umpteenth time your knuckles brushed against his, you finally took hold of his pinky finger with yours, waiting with bated breath to see his reaction. You felt your lips shyly curve into a smile when he intertwined his fingers with yours, his grip strong enough to make you feel safe and secure, as though nothing could ever take you away from him.

“I—Uh.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry ‘bout the walk, had to make sure no one would hear my bike.”

“No, it’s alright. This is nice. Peaceful.”

It didn’t take long until you could see the form of a bike partially hidden in the bushes off road. There wasn’t any kind of modifications or enhancements you could see, it was your simply, standard sport motorcycle you could buy anywhere, two helmets dangling from one of the handles.

Jason, sadly, let go of your hand, your body already missing the warmth. He grabbed one of the helmets, and you hand your hand outstretched, waiting for him to hand it to you, yet he kept getting closer until you could feel his body heat.

“Sorry, I’ll have to…” He removed the hair claw, letting your hair loosely fall. It seemed he was going to say something else when he noticed the shape of the claw, releasing a deep chuckle. “This is cute.” He closed the teeth around the base of the hood, continuing with putting the helmet on your head, fumbling with the strap to get it to latch —and his wandering touches on your chin did not go unnoticed. He pulled up the visor once he was done, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Is it tight?”

You blinked once, not believing what he just said. Out of nowhere. So bold. “Sorry?”

“The helmet, I’m not sure if I tied it too tight.”

You should get your head out of the gutter. “Oh.” Your cheeks were red, surely because of the cold. “No, it’s perfect.”

“Great.” He turned around to grab his helmet, and while he had his back to you, you let yourself have a bit of a meltdown in silence, placing your hands over your head, feeling plastic instead of your hair which you wanted to pull.

He was just getting on the bike by the time you were done, and you gingerly did the same, your arms rounding up his torso. Even with his layers of clothes, you could still feel how sturdy it was. After he made sure your visor was down once again, he turned on the ignition, swiftly gaining speed.

Rows of trees soon gave way to the outlines of the city, its tall skyscrapers blending with the dark night. Since Bristol was situated on a hill, you were able to see most of the city’s districts, a specific area to your right with so many lights on it seemed as if it was just the afternoon and not early morning.

“That’s Old Gotham.” Jason seemed to read your mind. “It’s kinda like Gotham’s own Vegas; casinos, strip clubs, night clubs, motels… Anything you could imagine opened late at night, it’s there.”

You grimaced at the thought of having a first date in a dingy, smelly casino, highly opposed to what you would’ve preferred. However, you never got close, the lights in fact getting further away.

After several minutes, he finally pulled over in a parking lot beneath what you assumed were apartments, taking the helmet from you, holding one on his hand and the other under his arm. He began walking, yet you took that chance to use the bike’s mirrors to try and comb your hair with your fingers —frozen fingers, mind you. Angling yourself in the perfect spot for the fluorescent lights to illuminate you fully. “You coming?”

He chuckled. This time, Jason didn’t hesitate on holding your hand.

“So, where are we?” You asked while waiting for the elevator to come down. He looked at you sideways, with that damned grin you loved so much, his hair all over the place as he didn’t bother to fix it, yet he still looked great, probably even better.

“Just a special place.”

The ‘ding’ announcing the elevator’s arrival echoed through the mostly empty parking lot, pressing the highest button to go all the way to the roof. During the whole time, he never let go of your hand, his thumb caressing yours and his hold tightening for a moment as if to prove you were still there.

Feeling boldened by his actions, you let your head rest on his shoulder, your eyes focused on the led screen displaying the floor you were in, twenty two, so far, the number going higher and higher seemingly without a want to stop.

“So, this is where the mighty Hood comes to rest?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He chuckled, but you noticed it wasn’t exactly a humorous laugh, rather a nervous one. You let your eyes wander around; there was a small camera on one of the corners behind you, but it didn’t look anything sophisticated, just a regular surveillance camera that most likely still recorded in black and white, without audio, but just on the off chance that you were wrong, you would leave the vigilante life topics for another day, in a safer place. Glancing down to your joined hands, a beaming smile made its appearance yet another time tonight, balancing yourself on the soles of your shoes. “Someone’s excited.”

“Well, I need to be moving or else I’ll fall asleep. You know, because it’s five in the freaking morning.”

“We’re almost there… Ah, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

But instead of replying, he let go of your hand, getting behind you and covering your eyes with his hands. You didn’t even get the chance to see in which floor you’d ended before the ding of the elevator was heard, the doors opening and welcoming the strong, freezing wind biting at your uncovered skin. So, you’re outside once again.

Jason was calmly guiding you, and even though you knew he wouldn’t walk you to the edge of the floor, your steps were still shaky, arms and hands outstretched in front of you as to not collide with anything. “Can’t you just—”

“You can open them, now.” His hands fell from your face to your shoulders, and a breath escaped you from what’s in front of you.

On a raised platform there was a small, rectangular patch of grass with beautiful red roses and bushes around, a fluffly red and white blanket with a woven basket keeping it on the ground, fake candles illuminating the still dark sky.

When you turned around to look at Jason, to see anything in him to let you know this was indeed meat for you, he still had another surprise in his hands. “Flowers, in my opinion, are a must. But since you said no flowers, well...” He handed you a chocolate bouquet with peonies and tulips made with chocolate. “I’m sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to find the perfect rooftop and… Was it too much?”

He panicked when tears began prickling your eyes, his hands holding your shoulders to comfort you. You wanted to talk, to answer it wasn’t too much that it was perfect, to say something. But your emotions got the best of you. It brought up all your past pains and experiences, all your heartbreaks and disappointments.

It brought up that perfect remainder that you could very well go back to your earth tomorrow, and you would never be able to talk to them.

Through the tears, now free falling, you looked up, his face full of worry, and confusion, and embarrassment, and unease. You placed your hands on his jaw, face not even twitching at your cold fingers. “Thank you.” You whispered. He, in turn, smiled, kissing your forehead.

“Come, you won’t want to miss this.”

You nodded, using the back of your hands to rid you of the tears, letting Jason guide you once again and sitting down next to him on the warm blanket, just in time to see the golden rays of sunshine shine on the city.

[theclaravoyant]

buddie + a kiss on the back of the neck. (bonus points for kitchen scenes, my beloved)

from this prompt list. also for the anon who requested buddie + a romantic kiss, although i may well write a separate one for that too!

AN ~ fluff. shameless, embarassing fluff.

- Eddie has dreamed of mornings like this. Literally. The only thing missing is the blurry-edged filter his mind tends to supply – although, his sleep-addled eyes are doing their best imitation. He wakes to the sweet smell of pancakes and maple syrup and salty bacon and scrambled eggs and his stomach growls.

He pinches himself on the back of the hand. Shakes it out. Yep, unless his brain has trained in covert operations while he wasn't looking, he's no longer dreaming. So he pads out into the kitchen feeling soft and sleepy and vulnerable and wonders how quietly he can deposit himself at the tiny dining table. Could he make it to the coffee machine and back without causing a disturbance?

It doesn't matter. He lingers instead, and gets caught up in watching. Buck is currently in an argument with a pancake, cursing as the acrid smell of burning hits his nostrils and forces him to turn on the rattling range-hood fan. Eddie's eyes trace his dance backward and forward; the way his shoulders hunch as he tries his best to salvage it, muttering threats and condolences in equal measure as he scrapes it free and evacuates it to the plate.

Eddie moves closer, because he can now, and he wraps his arms around Buck's hips.

Buck just frowns down at his work.

“You need a new stove,” he grumbles. “A new fry pan, at the very least.”

“A poor workman blames his tools, Buck.” Eddie presses a kiss to the back of Buck's neck, and another to the spot where it meets his shoulder. It still kind of surprises him, how naturally this comes to him. He's been waiting for someone to kiss in the kitchen his entire goddamned life. And he smells like pancakes.

“I- I have become accustomed to a certain lifestyle,” Buck attempts to explain. “A certain standard of cookware- What are you-”

Eddie pulls away to pick up the burnt pancake and take a bite. Buck looks appalled. Eddie looks him in the eyes.

“Delicious,” he mumbles, beaming around the mouthful of it, “burnt and all. But you already knew that.”

Buck could just about melt. It's not fair how romantically Eddie speaks sometimes, let alone how fluffy his hair is in the morning, and how much of it he's been blessed to see lately. Or how much he really, really wants to kiss the crumbs off his lips all of a sudden. And so, he does, and he finds that even his morning breath isn't too bad, drenched in batter and syrup and a sizeable dose of how lucky am I?

Eddie looks at him a little bit swoony afterwards with those big brown baby-cow eyes, and Buck wonders how on Earth the two of them ever got anything done.

“You know,” Eddie offers. “We should finish unpacking your kitchen stuff, since mine is suddenly so terrible. Christopher will be back from camp tonight and expecting your finest.”

“Mm. Tough critic, that kid.”

“I dunno. I think you've got a shoe in.”

“Printed a reference from my landlord, just in case.”

“Buck.” Eddie rolls his eyes, and he's so deeply in love his chest actually hurts. “Be serious. He's going to be so happy.”

“He'll probably call us both idiots.” “Yeah, well.” Buck kisses him one more time, and wonders how he hasn't been doing this for years. “When he's right, he's right.”

[etherealbelphie]

The Things Humans Come Up With (Ft. Beelzebub and GN!MC)

Warnings: Romantic relationships implied

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: Hi :D It's been a while, Character AI sort of took over my life, but I'm back now! There was this one scene from Obey Me! where the boys were absolutely baffled by human technology (like an ice cream maker), so that's kind of where the idea for this story came from. I hope you like it :D

I don't think this story requires many warnings, but if I should add one please let me know!

-Ethereal ^J^

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Using your spatula, you carefully lifted up the bread to check the color. Nope, not quite ready yet. You put the lid back over the pan, opting to check your phone while you waited for your grilled cheese to finish cooking. You were idly scrolling through Devilgram when you caught something moving out of the corner of your eye. You glanced up, seeing Beel standing sheepishly in the doorway.

"Whatever you're cooking smells really good..." He started, shyly fidgeting with his hands.

"Thanks!" You told him

He took a few uncertain steps, and you swear you could hear his stomach growling. "I haven't eaten since Fangol practice..."

"No?" You asked. You knew what he was hinting at, but it was hard not to tease him on the rare occasion he was shy.

“Y-Yeah…and…dinner isn’t for a while…”

“No, it isn’t,” you agreed.

"Your food smells really yummy..." He gave you a pitiful look as his stomach growled, much noisier this time.

You smiled internally, finally giving in. "Beel, did you want me to make you some too?"

He lit up immediately, nodding. "Yes, please!

You smiled, nodding as you pulled out a few more slices of bread and set to work.

"What are you making, anyways?" Beel asked, coming over to lean against the counter.

"They're grilled cheeses," you answered.

"What are those?"

You nearly dropped the bread in your hand. "You don't know what a grilled cheese is?!"

Beel shook his head. "We don't have those here. It's a human food, I'm guessing?"

Man, culture shock still hit you hard sometimes.

"Yeah. It's like a cheese sandwich, but the bread is crispy, and the cheese is melted. You can put things like meat or eggs in them, too, but that's more of a panini at that point."

"Can you make those too?" Beel asked.

"Not today, but next time it's my turn to make breakfast, okay?"

He nodded enthusiastically and watched as you began to fry up his sandwiches. "You humans always come up with the neatest things," Beel commented.

“Yeah?” You asked.

"Yeah! Like, I heard you guys have a thing that turns food into drinks!"

"A...a what?" You asked.

"Yeah! Like, the thing where you put fruits into the cup with milk, and the magic turns it into a drink!"

"The...Oh, you mean a blender!" You exclaimed.

"Yeah, a blender!" He repeated, as if trying to commit it to memory. "And what's that thing called where there are little cages at the end that spin around really fast?"

"Uh..."

"I've seen them use it on human cooking shows," Beel explained patiently. "You plug it in, then sometimes the little cages spin too fast and goop ends up everywhere."

"Oh!" You snapped your fingers. "That's called an electric whisk. Sometimes people call it a beater.”

"I will say, I don't really like the thing that makes the bread stale."

"The toaster?" You guessed, and felt oddly proud when he nodded.

"Yeah, it just makes it super dry. I'll eat it if I get hungry enough, but it's not my favorite."

"I can't believe you don't like toast," you said. "What did you put on it?"

He paused. "...What?"

"What did you put on the toast after you toasted it?"

"...You're supposed to put something on it?"

“I mean, yeah.”

“…Like what?” He asked.

“I dunno, butter usually? Any spreadable condiment, really.”

“…That makes sense,” Beel admitted. “I’ll have to try that next time.”

You giggled, nodding. “Maybe, yeah.”

You plated all the sandwiches and sliced them each in half, then motioned for Beel to join you.

You didn’t have to ask him twice; he took his seat and grabbed one of the sandwiches.

He took a bite, and his eyes widened. “Mmph!” He exclaimed. “I’mph sho goom!”

You laughed. “What?”

He swallowed, smiling. “It’s so good!” He repeated. He reached for another slice, then suddenly snapped his fingers. “I know!” He exclaimed, grinning at you.

“Know…know what?” You asked.

“I know the best thing that humans have ever come up with,” Beel explained.

“Oh, yeah?” You laughed. “Is it grilled cheeses, because I don’t know if I’d ag-“

“It’s you,” he interrupted.

“A-Ah…” You blushed, staring at the table. He could be so dang sweet sometimes.  When you looked up, you caught him smirking at you for a split second.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

[qqtxt]

[🐯] feed you my love

✿ pairing: beomgyu x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / fluff / 3,141 words / reader calls beomgyu ‘beomie’ / reader is already established to join the members occasionally (aka txt adopted the reader lol) / beomgyu being shameless with pda / mentions of food and eating / usage of curse words in a friendly banter ✿ in which one of beomgyu’s cutest habits is feeding you whatever he has (and the boys try to get in on it, only to get ignored) ✿ honestly, i saw this tiktok at the part where beomgyu tries to feed yeonjun the cotton candy and my mind spiralled because it just feels like a love language to me so... enjoy! [masterlist 🌸] / @kflixnet​ 🥤

beomgyu has absolutely no shame in eating whatever he wants to eat. he takes care of his figure (to his best ability) and there are times where your mind gets confused with either how small he looks or how big he actually is. you hadn’t quite noticed it before but the longer you were with him, the more he seems to... want to feed you whatever he has in his hands. doesn’t matter, absolutely could not give zero shit on what he’s holding. french fries? he’s already holding one to your lips. chips? say no more. a cookie? he takes a bite and makes sure you take one too. his burger? already considering you to have a second bite right after him.

it might sound odd but one of beomgyu’s love languages was feeding you... and of course, the boys teases him at every chance they can get when it happens in front of them. (they lowkey think it’s the most adorable thing ever, considering how chaotic beomgyu can get but is so delicate when he’s with you)

don’t get it twisted, though. while it is a sweet gesture, there are moments and instances where he’s... creative with his advancements. there’s too many to the point you can’t keep track of which is your favorite (or most memorable).

maybe it’s that one time when he’s made an omelet without burning the kitchen and he instantly looks at you to give it a taste. it’s morning and it was one of the many times you’ve spent the night and by some force of nature, had woken up with beomgyu to make breakfast for everyone. kai was around, making sandwiches with taehyun, while you and beomgyu were in charge of frying up eggs, sausages and ham.

just as beomgyu manages to whip up a batch of omelet, he takes a bite for himself and is very, very satisfied with himself. he quickly scoops a piece on a spoon and hovers it by your cheek, using his hip to nudge at you as you’re panning the sausages.

“gyu, i’m busy, i’ll–”you can’t finish your words when beomgyu gently pushes the spoon into your mouth to make you eat the omelet. you almost kick the life out of him but when you taste what he’s made, honestly, not bad. for a second you were doubtful because you’ve... you’ve seen how he tries to cook with or without the cameras and let’s just say, all of them, all of them (maybe excluding yeonjun) have a long way to go. humble beginnings.

“not bad, right?” his eyes are sparkling at you that you can’t resist leaning over, pecking his cheek, “tastes great!”

he looks at you in a daze, as if you’ve put him in a trance until–”yah! quickly take it off the fire! it’s gonna burn!” taehyun yells from the other side of the kitchen, making beomgyu panic as he screams and hurriedly moves his pan away from the heat. you chuckle at the whole debacle, focused on the sausages you were handling, noticing how kai’s full on laughing when beomgyu’s–”arghhh! it’s okay, it’s okay! they’re still fine!”

“that’s what you get for flirting.”

“alright, bring that ass here,” beomgyu fetches the spatula, maneuvering himself around you to–”come here, huening!”

or that time when you tagged along to join the boys to make dalgona candy, and he’s very proud with the way his heart shaped one turned out. almost instantly, he holds it up to your lips, waiting for you to take the first bite. you spare him a glance, in the midst of pouring yours onto the metal plate that you wave him off, “n-not now, beomie...”

beomgyu makes a sound crossed between a whine and a yell, which seemingly sounds aggressive and adorable at the same time. at the sound, the boys glance over to see how beomgyu’s persistent to get you to try his candy. a soft round of laughters erupt when you gently nudge him away, focusing on making sure–”i wanna make mine look pretty first...”

he opens his mouth, and with a deep intake of air, you can already predict the way he’s about to yell at the top his lungs in distaste, wanting nothing more than for you to try his creation. the rest of the mentally prepare (taehyun and soobin’s already closing their ears) for the onslaught, but yeonjun’s attempting to pacify him with: "i’ll try it,” yeonjun leans over, bumping shoulders with beomgyu as he opens his mouth, “ah.” yeonjun widens his eyes, using a hand to point at his opened mouth willing to accept the candy.

yeonjun gives up in less than ten seconds when beomgyu only turn to look at him with a disinterested look; flat brows, narrowed eyes, not even a smile on the face. the older one clears his throat with a fine, not invited to the party, don’t need to tell me twice, you little shit and looks away to continue making his own candy.

when yeonjun’s out of his hair, beomgyu turns to you again, holding the candy to your lips with a frown. you finally spare him the attention when you’re done with creating your candy, allowing it to harden in the meantime. you turn the cheek to see that his brows are tightly knitted together, wrinkles on his forehead based on how hard he’s frowning that it looks permanent. 

“augh, okay, okay,” you relent, opening your mouth to take a bite and the sweetness kisses your tongue as it melts. it makes you smile, and you use a thumb to pick at the crumb at the side of your lip, and you kiss your thumb to get the crumb off. then you press that thumb to beomgyu’s cheek, “yummy! and sweet. good job, beomie!”

when you turn back to check how your candy turned out, beomgyu’s already back to his usual self. he breaks a piece and hovers it by yeonjun’s mouth, to which the latter rolls his eyes at... until beomgyu scoffs and uses his knee to nudge yeonjun’s thigh that he gives in and takes a bite, making beomgyu all smiles again.

maybe the time when he opened a packet of sweets during movie night, and you hadn’t realised he held one up for you to eat as you were engrossed in the movie. he had his head laying on your lap, cheek pressed to your thigh as his eyes gaze up to the television. one of your hands were stroking his head, playing with the strands of his hair, while the other rests on his neck, feeling the gentle taps of his pulse against your finger tips. movie night had been one of the things the boys got around to do once in a while and it was horror night, the best kind.

yeonjun’s clutching onto soobin like a lifeline, who’s holding on to taehyun holding onto kai. the bunch sat on the sofa as you and beomgyu sat on the floor in front of them, unfazed just like kai was. there were screams and shouts, a commotion when the ghost pops out onto frame, scaring the main character and it’s havoc with the way kai’s laughing louder than their mixed screams.

in the midst of this, beomgyu’s holding his arm up to your lips and makes a whine. for a split second, the boys think he’s afraid, but they glance down to see that he’s just trying to feed you a piece of skittles.

“i thought we were watching a horror movie, not a romance movie.” soobin comments, using his knee to nudge beomgyu’s arm conveniently in front of him. taehyun snorts, finding the diversion to be working as he focuses on you two than the movie. you glance over your shoulder to match the sound of the voice, only to now notice beomgyu’s hand placement.

you look down to him as he lowers his hand a little, pouting when you don’t accept his candy offering.

“don’t really feel like eating candy, beomie.”

“i’ll eat it.” soobin offers, already leaning down to swoop the candy from beomgyu’s hand but the latter dodges soobin’s advances. “augh, so mean.” soobin huffs, resorting to leaning back into the sofa as he looks at the movie, but somehow finds himself drawn to see how beomgyu acts to get you to give in (even though they all have seen this probably a million times, it never seems to faze them).

“just one piece. just one,” beomgyu coaxes you, hand persistently rising up to your lips. all you have to do is open your mouth. your lips are tightly shut as you look down on him again, lightly tapping his forehead but he doesn’t budge. instead, he feigns a strain on his arm and–”ah... it hurts holding my hand up for so long...”

you let out a soft tsk before opening your mouth, allowing him to pop the candy into your mouth with a smug grin. then, he gladly feeds himself a piece, before taking out another and holding it up higher over the sofa for soobin to enjoy some of the candy as well.

you remember fondly how he tried to make you try some of his ramen, when the two of you went on a short but heart-fulfilling convenience store date. it was late, but beomgyu showed up at your door with a hand extended out to you to go on a date with me? and you couldn’t possibly say no when you’ve missed him just as much.

that’s how you two ended up at a convenient store nearby, clad in hoodies, tired smiles but giddily holding hands as you made your way there. he decided to make his “signature” cup ramen, adding other ingredients to it while you opted for something simple... by that, you mean just grabbing a cup noodle and adding water, done.

after a couple of minutes, you to curdle by the last two seats on the bar in the corner, facing the window. there’s barely anyone outside, a couple of passersby, mostly those closing up their food truck business for the night. in the silence, you two are mixing up your noodles and just as you twist some noodles with your chopsticks, you turn to see that beomgyu has done the same, already ready to feed you when you were about to feed yourself.

“ah... what about me?” he half-whines, pouting when he sees that you weren’t going to offer him a bite. 

“i gotta cross-check, make sure it’s not poisoned, you know?” 

“but–i... augh, you’re so mean to me.” he huffs, lowering his chopsticks back into his cup. he has a small frown, muttering to himself–how cute–but you know there’s no malice in his tone. you snicker, holding up your chopstick to him, “open up, pretty boy.”

he perks a brow, not turning his head but his eyes are on you, “really?”

“one... two–”you can’t get to three because he quickly leans over and slurps the noodles from your offering hand, smiling happily and chewing on the noodles. he doesn’t know why or how, but when you feed him something, it always, always tastes better.

“ugh, so good.” he groans, nodding in agreement with himself. you chuckle, shaking your head, “i didn’t even add anything. it’s just the noodles as it is.”

“it’s because you fed me,” he swallows his mouthful, “can’t you feed me vegetables? maybe it’ll taste nicer.”

you scoff a laugh, using your chopsticks to grab yourself a mouthful, “or maybe you can learn how to cook it properly than eating it without any seasoning.”

you’re about to eat your own serving but the clearing of his throat is what gets you to stop. when you glance at him, his brows are furrowed as he holds up his chopsticks to your direction, twisted with noodles, glued with cheese and a chunk of kimchi. 

“i haven’t eaten mine yet,”

he doesn’t even respond, only blinking at you and using his eyes to point at his chopsticks for your taking. you let out a sigh and shift closer, opening your mouth and he gently makes sure the chopsticks go in without the noodles smudging your lips. it’s not as great as he thought when you end up with red sauce by the corner of your lips, but with the way you light up in enjoyment makes him so giddy, it’s like he’s gotten off a rollercoaster seeing you smile like that; doing a small sway back and forth as you chew on your food quietly, happily–together.

the two of you begin to dig into your own portions, but every now and then steal mouthfuls from each other’s cup. in the midst of eating and chatting, beomgyu freezes when you tell him hold on, and you grab onto a napkin to reach over to his cheek. you brush the corner of his lips with an amused smile. he swears to you he isn’t blushing, it’s just the spice from his ramen that you relent with a sure, okay... even though he knows you don’t believe him by a long shot (not that you have to, you were totally right, he’s whipped for you).

a tough contender would be when he’s doing a live-broadcast in one of the rooms, but he still tries to sneakily feed you some food that’s out of frame from the camera. you hadn’t realised he was on a live until after you’ve entered the room and you narrow your eyes at him talking to the phone on the tripod. you try to leave quietly but he speaks up about it, playing off that you’re one of his friends who came in. you make faces at him, mouthing the words of i’ll come back later! but he refuses to let you leave as he somehow manages to make you stay by his side, inches away from being in frame.

he’s eating a couple of desserts and he sneakily tears the wrapper while he talks about their upcoming concert. he’s able to multitask, reading the comments coming in and slyly reach to the side for you to take a bite without tearing his gaze from the phone. it’s a red bean bun, easy to share, but your hand tries to gently push it away to avoid any suspicion. however, the longer you do that, the longer he doesn’t pull his hands back so you quickly lean forward to take a bite.

he starts to smile even if it’s not at you directly and you hit his knee under the table. chuckling, he takes a bite while responding to one of the comments that says you’re handsome! “ah, thank you! i always know moa will appreciate my good looks. feel like some people around me need to appreciate that.”

he tries not to make a sound when you kick him again.

maybe... maybe it was right now in the present as you two sit side by side, along with the rest of the boys circling the coffee table in their dorm, enjoying a meal peacefully. the kind of peaceful that consisted of soft murmurs of chatter and occasional pitches of excitement on the new shows about to come out, movies ya’ll planned to watch together, new television series that everyone pitched for turns on whose suggestion to take up next. 

in the midst of talking and listening, beomgyu scoops a spoonful of his kimchi fried rice, making sure to get a piece of egg and he turns to his side to watch as you slowly chew your food while agreeing with taehyun that yes, we have to watch wednesday next! as your mouth opens to start arguing with soobin who wants to watch gudetama, the nudge from beomgyu against your thigh halts you momentarily.

turning to him with slightly gaped lips, he motions for his spoon towards your mouth and beomgyu lives to see the reaction. how your eyes are initially sparking with fiery to attack, that dissolves into adoration when you lock gazes with him. how willing your mouth opens, giddily shifting forward to make sure he doesn’t spill not a single grain of rice, almost as if he can hear your well-known food is food! nothing should go to waste.

soobin can’t even be mad at the sight when he’s aware you were about to one-up him in the conversation, now witnessing how excited beomgyu gets whenever he gets to feed you. 

“is it tasty?” beomgyu asks, softly, even though everyone can hear him.

with your mouth full, you can’t respond with words so you nod with a garbled up hum of mhm! and put a thumbs up. beomgyu shakes his head with a augh, so fucking cute, using his freehand to ruffle your hair and continue eating. yeonjun swallows his ramen, nudging soobin by the elbow when he knows the latter was watching as well, “because of that, i’m on your side to watch gudetama.”

you ignore the conversation, proceeding to twist some of your pasta so you can return beomgyu the favour. it’s like he’s anticipating it, beckoning for you to i want some of the chicken, too. although you retort with look at you, taking advantage of my kindness, beomgyu grins when you’re cutting the best part; charred and drenched in the sauce to poke it with your twisted pasta. you carefully turn to beomgyu who leans forward, opening wide to make sure nothing spills.

then, it’s a brief moment of the two of you smiling at each other, chewing and enjoying the food in bliss as if none of the guys are there. even though the guys constantly tease or pretend to vomit, they secretly approve of it with knowing gazes.

the moment is short-lived when kai bumps shoulders with you, reminding you that the show wednesday is superior and–”ah, right,” you swallow your food and now look to soobin with narrowed eyes, “back to you and your egg show, we’re watching wednesday. my vote’s with kai,”

“hell yeah!” kai high-fives you, to which soobin groans, “you guys suck! gudetama is a better bet! it’s so cute!”

“i agree with soobs!” yeonjun pitches, and kai whines, “ugh, old people and their tendencies.” 

“the fuck did you say?!”

“oh, here we go again.” taehyun groans, throwing his head back as the onslaught begins.

beomgyu now watches as you and kai debate with soobin and yeonjun on what to watch next. taehyun is a silent spectator shaking his head at both parties. what beomgyu truly enjoys from this is how you don’t miss the way he wants to continuously feed you and how you take pauses to feed him in return. it’s almost as if it’s second nature for you to reciprocate his love language and that... that made his heart full; and it wasn’t because of the food.

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

Okonomyaki (leeminho)

The ache on your lower back and in between your legs really doesn't stop you from climbing on top of the chair and reach for the highest shelve in your cupboard so you can retrieve your two favourite mugs. Because that glorious first sip of coffee after a rather rough night deserves to be from the silliest Pikachu mug or else it is wasted. You grab the bright yellow Pokémon shaped mug and another pink one with a little silver enamel owl depicted on the side, and then turn on both the electric kettle and your coffee machine so you can make yourself coffee and tea for Minho.

Minho. Just thinking of him sends shivers down your whole body, the vivid pictures of your intense night still burning in the back of your head, your muscle memory still making your arms and your legs twitch a little. God. He was a fucking God. He literally looked like some Greek statue of a divinity, he ravaged you in the best way possible. You could not stop thinking about him and and the way his arms muscles flexed and throbbed and the strain and effort on his face giving way to the utter bliss as soon as he relieved himself and the wild look in his eyes and the sounds he made and the way his veins popped to the surface of his skin on his arms and hands as he gripped you and - the loud whistle of the kettle signaling the water's boiling over abruptly makes you snap out of your daydreaming. You chuckle to yourself as you shake your head, only now realizing you were gripping the edge of your kitchen counter for no apparent reason, and proceed to pour the hot water in the pink mug with the little tea bag hanging from it.

After filling up your cup with coffee you sit on the counter top and gently stir the warm, delicious liquid mixing in with the little splash of milk you had preheventively poured in as well, and as soon as you put down the metallic spoon on the marbled surface of your counter you hear light footsteps coming down the hall and soon enough Minho enters the kitchen, still damp hair from the morning shower, a soft smile and tired eyes as he acknowledges you, his stare quickly taking in you just sitting there in just a pair of boy shorts and one of his plushy cardigans he must've left behind sometime ago, "good morning, I made you some tea", you greet him lazily, pointing at the pink steaming cup near the sink, "Oh, tea but no food? You're a princess aren't you? Not just a pillow princess, a real, proper one", he says smirking, picking up the cup with one hand and placing the other on your exposed thigh, then leaning in to kiss you as you giggle and nuzzle against his face, tasting the minty toothpaste on his tongue, breathing in the aftershave and shampoo scent lingering on him, "I'll make us some quick breakfast, are Japanese scallion pancakes okay?", he asks politely and you nod enthusiastically, your mouth already watering in anticipation.

You're not sure if your boyfriend is more skilled in bed or in the kitchen, he moves so swiftly and with so much confidence it seriously makes you question just where and when he learned to be so fucking good in both fields. Alright maybe you were feeling just a little too needy for him, like you just could not get enough of him. He got you wrapped around his finger like that and you secretely loved it. You stare in awe, quietly sipping on your now cold coffee as Minho whips up the eggs and flour in a bowl, his trained arms making fast progress on the batter, his veins bulging out as he cuts up the scallion, his strong hands pressing down the blunt, smooth edge of the knife as he chops up his ingredients and expertly flings them in the frying pan. There's just something about his prominent muscles and his black tshirt moving against his torso as he sautees the pancakes, flipping them up and down with just a twist of his wrist, the focused look on his face as he checks the fire and oil crackling around the food: "those look incredible, you look incredible, you know that?".

You chew on the inside of your lip, eyeing your breakfast being elegantly plated right in front of you as Minho smirks, he cleans up the edges of your plate with a paper napkin and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively," mmh thank you sweet cheeks", he stands in between your legs dangling from the counter and then cuts up a piece of pancake and feeds you, placing his arms at your sides so you're basically trapped in between him and the counter, he stares at you expectantly, his lips slightly parted and his eyes intent on your face, "mas-iss-eo? Is it delicious?". An explosion of flavour and earthy richness settles in your mouth and you nod frantically, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head as to emphasize just how good it tastes, "I'm hiring you as my private chef, these are just as incredible as they looked", you finally say after swallowing down the last piece of food. Minho clicks his tongue on his palate and cuts up another piece of pancake, stabbing it with the fork and bringing it up to your lips, "are you not gonna eat breakfast with me? ", you ask confusedly and he smriks again, directly placing the food in your mouth and then proceeding to kiss your jugular right as you swallow, "oh I am gonna eat. I'm just having a little appetizer first",he whispers along your collarbone which he kisses ever so slowly.

You wish you had the time to react but before you can even realise it Minho is pulling down your cardigan in one swift, super fast move, leaving your bare skin exposed and in the direct line of his eyes which become big and black and hungry by the second, his hands squeeze your breasts in a firm but not painful grip as an exhilarated sound escapes his lips, "you have the best boobs in town I fucking swear", he groans, his mouth then quickly finding your nipples which he sucks on avidly. You gasp. Thankfully you had already swallowed your food or else you would have probably spit out at least two pieces of scallion as the air leaves your lungs and you instinctively reach froward for him. Your run your fingers through the silky soft tufts of his dark brown hair that he had been growing out a little longer and you absolutely love it, particularly so when he buries his whole face in your chest and it tickles your ribcage.

You tingle. You start to tingle all over as he works his mouth and his tongue on you, his hands now pressing down your thighs to keep you as still as possible even when you pant and squirm and try to press yourself against him, "Min-", you breathe out, feeling your cheeks burning up and your lower insides throb, "you can eat, I don't mind", he mumbles, still not really detaching his mouth from you , his hands blindly reaching for the fork and platter that clink against the counter, and you find yourself chuckling, your eyes closing in delight as you savor this random outburst of lust and love and hunger and think you could easily get used to this.

[ichorai]

live like animals ; kimiko miyashiro.

track five of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; kimiko miyashiro x gn!reader, frenchie x gn!reader

synopsis ; you and frenchie try to show kimiko how to have fun on a day off.

words ; 1.0k

themes ; fluff, mild comedy

warnings / includes ; mentions of fire/bombs, frenchie and reader get in a heated debate on stacking cards in uno, basically just domestic fluff

main masterlist.

“This is Monopoly,” you told Kimiko, gesturing out to the board game in front of you. You handed her a couple wads of money. “That’s yours. You can use it to buy land and houses. See, if you land on these particular squares, you have to draw a card and do what the card tells you.”

Appearing puzzled, Kimiko moved her game piece to the question mark and picked up a card without rolling. Frenchie winced, placing down his own fake Monopoly money.

“Eh, perhaps we can play something else—something that involves a bit less explaining, maybe?”

Relenting, you moved on to the next game, pulling out a deck of cards—Uno.

“Okay, okay, for this game, you just gotta put down cards that have the same color as each other, or it could be the same number,” you explained patiently, smiling at Kimiko as you handed her a few colorful cards to start out with. Forgetting to explain to keep your cards close to your chest, Kimiko splayed out her cards with a smile, pointing out that all of hers were blue, save for a single red one.

“Ah, mon coeur, don’t show us!” exclaimed Frenchie, dramatically flying his forearm up to cover his eyes.

Kimiko, worried she’d done something wrong, gathered her cards back in her hands and furrowed her brows. 

“We’re not supposed to know what the other players have in their hands,” you told her, not unkindly, “it keeps the game fair and more interesting.”

After you dealt out a fresh set of cards, on the three of you played, glad that you’d finally found a game Kimiko could enjoy—until you placed down two sevens: one green, and one yellow.

“No,” stressed Frenchie, thick brows pinching together. “You’re not supposed to stack!”

“What do you mean, everyone stacks!”

“It’s practically cheating!”

“It’s not cheating! And how ironic, the man who builds bombs for a living is raggin’ on me for ‘cheating’ Uno!”

Crimson-faced, Frenchie shot back, “It defeats the entire purpose of the game! You either place the same color in one go, or you put the same number, you cannot place down two cards of the same number but different color—it makes no sense!”

The two of you burst into a heated argument between who was right, Kimiko glancing back and forth between the two of you with a baffled expression. After almost five whole minutes of bickering, cards were hastily shoved back into the deck. 

“Fine. We’ll play another game,” you huffed, glaring at Frenchie and childishly sticking your tongue out at him. “Sorry, ‘Miko. He’s just being a sourpuss.”

“At least I don’t have to cheat to win the game,” hissed the man, accent thickening with his frustration.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him.

“Here—why don’t we play Twister?”

Twister was also a disaster. Kimiko had nearly snapped Frenchie’s leg in half when she toppled on top of him, and Frenchie had accidentally kicked you in the face while he was twisting around to put his left leg on a red circle. All in all—it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences.

“Alright… I guess playing games is a bust. You have anything else you wanna do, Kimiko?”

The woman’s expression lit up, and she tugged on Frenchie’s sleeve, miming cracking an egg open and frying it on a pan.

“You wanna cook?” he asked, grinning. “Sure—I’ve been meaning to teach you, anyways.”

The three of you filed into the dingy little kitchen, where Frenchie began pulling out ingredients. “We can make french toast. It is not actually French, but it will do for now.”

You were tasked with whipping the eggs while Frenchie showed Kimiko how to properly cut up the strawberries. It was all going smoothly—until the frying bit.

Somehow, Kimiko had ended up burning the toast with a pan that was far too hot. The two of you winced, telling her to try again. The second time, a small spark of fire somehow kindled aflame when Kimiko accidentally spilled some oil onto the stove. Hurriedly, you ran out of the kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher, yanking the pin out and spraying the white foam all over the fire, ruining the remains of the french toast beyond salvation.

Frenchie wiped some of the extinguisher’s foam from his brow.

“Well,” he said, huffing out a sigh. “Anything else you wanna do?”

The three of you settled on watching a movie. It was an old sixties film that you couldn’t recall the name of, but it had Audrey Hepburn and the characters were singing a song about being a ‘prim and proper’ woman, which seemed to completely enrapture Kimiko’s attention.

“You okay?” Frenchie quietly asked you when he noticed that you weren’t paying much attention to the movie.

Instead, you had your gaze trained on Kimiko—on her sweet smile, on her indented dimples, on the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled as she laughed. 

“Yeah,” you distantly replied. “I’m just glad we got to spend the day together.”

Kimiko turned to you with a wide, toothy grin. She began signing, and you looked to Frenchie for the translation. 

The man had his own warm beam pulling his lips thin. “She says thank you for being so patient with her.”

You reached over to gently take Kimiko’s hand in yours. “It’s my pleasure, Kimiko, really. It’s not often we get days off—what with Butcher sending us on missions every other minute and Vought looking out for us like hawks. It’s nice to just relax for once.”

“Cheers to that,” said Frenchie, sipping on a bottle of beer he had procured out of seemingly nowhere. 

The three of you fell into a comfortable once more, fixing your attention back to the movie in front of you.

Not twenty minutes later, you and Frenchie had both fallen asleep, your dozing heads resting upon either side of Kimiko’s shoulders. She, however, stayed wide awake, watching the movie until the very last of its credits, silently mouthing along to the songs.