#aka his normal clothes

[trashedinpluto-jpg]

just a bunch of normal 90s teenagers yknow

[loki-ioki]

Larry horse is real. Known as Standard Laurel

[a-master-procrastinator]

As always with Vintu, I forgot that some of his companions are still wearing dresses from Alliance's official Dress Day and didn't switch back to their normal outfits. So I was kinda looking towards seeing Shae facing Heta in a dress, but the game decided that this is unacceptable and kept showing her in armor during cutscenes, despite her still being in a dress outside the cutscenes. Ugh, we were so close to a glorious showdown.

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

[skultu]

“your loved changed me from a boy to a man” 🤮 🤮 🤮

[ssahotchnerr]

HI HONEY!! I have a fic request! Based on Aaron and his love for calling the reader sweet girl/his sweet girl. Where that’s his favorite nickname for her and she loves is sm and he loves it sm AND THEYRE JUST IN LOVE. I think that would be so cute!

endearments

i'm putting a (slightly) drunk aaron take on this 🤭 cw; fem!reader, mentions of drinking, soft drunk!aaron, vague suggestion, a lot of fluff <3

You had been on the brink of dozing off, but had fought against your heavy eyelids until Aaron returned home safely. It had been guys night out; aka Dave dragging him to some top-shelf fancy bar, or whatever establishment the David Rossi enjoyed to frequent.

The slower than normal pace echoed from down the hallway - locking the door, putting his coat away, a quick check on Jack; his usual night rounds. Finally he made his way into your shared bedroom, dropping soundly onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale. His aim, however, a bit off - he landed nearly on top of you.

You could smell the small aroma of bourbon on his breath. He always drank just enough to be tipsy, smart and conscious of avoiding a brutal hangover, or an alert tending to.

"My sweet girl."

His voice was heavenly deep, softer and smoother in its inebriated manner. It paralleled his actions: drunk Aaron meant clingy Aaron. His immediate tight hold solidified such.

"Hey," You adjusted yourself, laying more so on your side, facing him. Your voice was laced with your drowsiness; tone relaxed, content, making Aaron wonder why he didn't just stay home with you all night. "Have fun?"

"Yeah, it was nice." Your hand cupped his cheek momentarily, moving towards the nape of his neck. His glassy eyes admired you.

"Dave find any new wives?"

Aaron snorted gently, "Not this time."

You hummed in response, fingers running through the back of his hair. You switched between brushing through the short strands, and gently scratching his scalp. Aaron could've groaned at the feeling (he may have, he honestly couldn't recall if he did.) "Poor wing-manning on your end, then."

"Always next time." His head dropped into your neck, immediately pressing a gentle kiss into your skin. Then another, and another. His words were muffled when he spoke, "I missed you though, sweet girl. Wished you were with me the whole time."

You immediately flushed. While Aaron supplied you with multiple terms of endearment, this was without a doubt your favorite. It simply made you feel loved within its purest state. Adored.

Whereas Aaron loved the way it rolled off his tongue. It fit, just like the way his hand fit perfectly into yours, or the way your body molded perfectly into his - just like now. Not only that, he loved your reaction - the pet name turned you into a flustered, shy mess within seconds.

But now, in his drunken state, he wasn't saying so to fluster you, but it was the natural affection you caused him to possess, only elevated. His words rushed out effortlessly, freely. More insistent.

"You're blushing."

You scoffed lightly, all in amusement. "How do you know?"

"Because you're my sweet girl." His words slurred slightly, flowing together. If you didn't know any better, he was also falling asleep. He leaned up to kiss your lips, before his head dropped hastily back down onto your chest. "I know what I'm saying.

"You're drunk. Do you really?" You teased, your eyes narrowing with a small smile on your face.

"How dare you question otherwise."

You laughed softly, sitting up from your lying position, causing Aaron to whine as he slid off, breaking contact. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

Despite the shadows on half his face, half illuminated by the glow of the lap, you could see his lips tugging into a mischievous smirk.

"Wipe that look off your face Hotchner."

He allowed it to linger for just a playful moment longer, before his facial features relaxed, allowing you to pull off his clothes. You tossed them onto the ground carelessly - they could be dealt with in the morning. You tossed him yet another lighthearted glare at the second smirk that followed when you reached his belt buckle.

As tempting as it was, now wasn't the time.

In just his boxers and tee, his arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you as close as he could possibly get you. His face, right back into the crook of your neck. "My sweet girl."

His repetitive words left him in a sigh, quiet enough you wouldn't have known he mumbled them if it weren't him speaking directly into your skin, or for them vibrating into you.

You wiggled your hand out from his hold, draping it over his forearm and lazily tracing your fingertips along the veins his arms possessed.

"I love it, you know." You mumbled into the darkness, scooting back against him, burying your head into your pillow. Confirming the proximity, you almost couldn't be any closer. "Being yours."

He was fading fast, but still awake and aware enough to respond, "Can't imagine anything else."

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Basically, it’s discovered that to help stabilize Danielle, aka Ellie, it’d be best to have her be smaller. She refused to be turned into a kid by Frostbite/her own power ability, when Danny remembered the shrink ray his parents made. The side effect is that they’re kind of stuck as humans when they’re that small—they can use some ghost powers, but basically, it’s a weird side effect of the shrink ray. That’s canon, by the fucking way, lmao

Anyways, so Ellie agrees, and Danny will shrink himself with the ray to her size to help her out when needed/when she wants company her size, with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker occasionally helping out. Sam buys one of those really ornate Victorian dollhouses, with wooden everything, and Danny does some… renovations… so that it no longer opens and is a proper house. There’s still some oddities because it’s a dollhouse originally, but it was easier and faster to give her a home. One of the first additions was a water/wastewater system, followed like two hours later by an electrical system. Since it was so small, Danny was able to do it fairly quickly in his big size, occasionally going small and using the small window for using his powers to double check on things.

The water system had to be refilled every week, unless hooked up to a plumbing system in a house, which Danny made some outlets for in Jazz’s room—it was easier and had significantly less questions/didn’t stand out as much if placed in Jazz’s room. They usually did it every three days, though, as the plug-in process was still a bit… hinky. The tanks for holding the water were in the ‘basement’, which was mostly inaccessible from the inside of the dollhouse but basically looked like a big stand the dollhouse stayed on. Like someone ripped a full house out of the ground WITH the basement attached. There was a small access hallway down some stairs in the house for the clean water system, though.

The electric system was fairly simple, as it didn’t cost much energy to light a dollhouse and heat/cool water. There was an AC unit, Ellie’s request, but it hardly was used and was fairly efficient just due to pure size. It was fueled by ecto batteries, which Danny made sure had a few rechargability options—just because it was efficient energy didn’t mean it didn’t ever need recharging. There was a very small ecto filter, but due to its relative small size, was easy to clean and was fairly stable, so they had a whole closet of them just chilling out, both filled and empty. The battery itself could be charged by ecto sources, Danny’s own blood, or ambient ectoplasm gained by using something that looked like a solar panel and a satellite dish had a child that the batter could be placed in. The hookup also allowed for like… normal D cell batteries.

They would buy dollhouse furniture, and occasionally just buy the big version then shrink it down. Ellie had a huge old house to herself, basically, might as well go ham. And she had a fun time with the designer doll clothes Sam liked to get, although the cheap doll clothes from the store were also fun. Best option was just buying normal clothes and shrinking them, but using things that were already small or just making stuff using normal sized objects was fun.

At some point, though, the Fenton siblings decide to go on a trip. Ellie begs to be taken along, and Jazz agrees—there’s a doll showcase in Gotham, and Jazz wanted to see if anything caught Ellie’s interest. Danny, having a room in the dollhouse himself, also went along. Might as well make it a sibling’s trip, right?

Ellie can be full size for small chunks of time, which they did while exploring the expo. They found some cool things to add, and some doll clothes Ellie was far too interested in trying on, as well as some to force on Danny later. He sighed, but like—that’s his little cousin-sister, he’d put up with it. After all, he learned how to plumb an entire (miniature) house in two days when she refused to move in until it had a fully functional bathroom, so.

Anyways!

They have a fun time, and sure, lugging the relatively giant dollhouse was a PAIN, but it was Ellie’s home, and some stabilizing tech made it relatively safe to move without risking everything freaking breaking. They load everything in again, and the dollhouse is now restocked with clothes, tiny furniture, and a lot of shrunken supplies—some foods are just hard to work with full size, and are easier to shrink, okay? Also soap, paper goods, pencils and pens, books, etc. Jazz loads the thing into her car, and Danny offers to stay with Ellie in the dollhouse—so Jazz gets them in, and shrinks them down, holding onto the shrink ray in the meantime.

All is going relatively well in Gotham traffic until there’s a rogue attack.

Go figure.

Jazz ends up unconscious, and Danny and Ellie can’t do anything before the rogue is taken care of and a paramedic team comes up. They hide back in the dollhouse, listening as the medics say she seems to be okay, just unconscious. A relief, but now they’re taking Jazz away. Fenton luck states she’s one of the few actually injured. The Bat Brigade comes by, and Batman notices that there’s a wallet for one Danny Fenton. Red Robin confirms that Jazz was likely here with at least two other people, based on the ticket stubs for the expo. However, there is a strange lack of social media presence, Danny doesn’t have a photo ID, and there’s no way of knowing for SURE that it was just Danny with her, if it was just two other people, or if Danny was in the car with her. Still, as they can’t find him but DO have his sister and his wallet, they assume he might be missing, possibly kidnapped.

The Gotham PD of course take in the car, although it’s pretty trashed. Knowing well and good that the dollhouse and such things are actually quite expensive, Commissioner Gordon mentions that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Batman to maybe hold onto the Fenton’s things that *aren’t* related to the investigation.

Batman just takes everything. Including a rather peculiar looking gun that seems to have sustained some damage during the attack and car crash.

Gordon sighs. Figures.

So, Danny and Ellie end up in Wayne Manor. Most of the things end up in the Batcave, but Alfred insists that they place the doll things upstairs in the manor proper—the cave isn’t *that* damp, but doll things are small and delicate. So, upstairs they go.

At first, it’s fine. Danny and Ellie are fine in the dollhouse, and it’ll be at least a week before any of the systems NEED to be worked with.

Then Ellie ends up with a massive migraine. She gets them, on occasion, a sort of growing pain. Usually, they just shrink some medicine for her as she needs it, because she’s like—twelve. While they did have some medicine that had been pre-shrunk, when they were stocking up in Gotham, it turns out pain medicine was more expensive there. Not by much, but they figured—they’ll just stock up in Amity Park, they’ll be there in two days.

Haha. Nope.

So, Danny finally has to venture out. He lucks into finding the first aid kit—why there was one in the main living room, he’s not sure—and is currently working on trying to get open the blister packet of an ibuprofen when Alfred finds him.

Alfred stares at this tiny boy with a tiny make-shift knife trying to get into… over the counter pain medication.

Danny stares at this butler guy who had very gently cleaned the outside and noted the strange fact that the dollhouse did not open.

Danny waves at Alfred.

Alfred waves a tiny finger back.

“Hello,” Alfred says softly, which is fantastic because loud noises could get painful—part of the reason for Ellie’s headache was an argument between Tim and Damian. “How do you do?”

Danny hesitates, before he makes an exaggerated so-so gesture.

“You understand me?”

Danny nods—it’s rare for people to understand what he’s saying when he’s 5 inches tall.

“How wonderful,” Alfred smiles. “And how can I help our young guest tonight?”

Danny gestures to the blister packet.

“Pain medication? Isn’t that a little bit large for you.”

The teen thinks for a second on how to communicate. He points to the pill, then makes a slight show of pretending to grind something, like a mortar and pestle.

Thankfully, Alfred got the idea. “Would it be easier if I ground it up for you?”

Danny takes a moment to think before accepting with an enthusiastic nod.

“Very well,” Alfred says, taking the blister packet in one hand. He then hold his other out, palm up, like a platform. “Would you like to come with me?”

Danny ‘his survival instincts died when he did’ Fenton gets into Alfred’s hand.

Alfred grinds up the pill into a fine powder. Danny hands him a tiny bottle—still large in Danny’s hands, as it was not a shrunk bottle—that he had tied around his waist. Alfred fills it, and hands it back.

“I assume you came from the tiny house we have in our living room?”

Danny again nods. Alfred takes him there, setting him down outside the front door. Danny bows, and sure it’s Japanese as hell, and he’s white as all get out, but it’s a generally understood gesture of thanks. He hopes.

Alfred understands it just fine. “I bid you goodnight, then. Perhaps we will talk more, when you are feeling better?”

Danny hesitates, again, but he nods. Alfred had been nice enough, so far.

Danny heads in, quickly measuring out the medicine—shrunk pressure plates and scales and weights made what it was measuring relative—to him the weights on the hand balance scale felt the same weight. Ellie got her medicine, and they both went back to sleep.

He told her in the morning what happened. Ellie was strangely gung-ho about meeting this butler guy, and so—when no one else was around—, she and Danny went onto the tiny balcony as Alfred came in to dust.

“Oh my,” he said. “There’s two of you, now. Should I expect more?”

Both of them did an exaggerated ‘no’ dance.

“Very well, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

[bamfkeeper]

Parents.

Kurt Wagner x F!reader

RQ: 'CAN WE PLS GET MORE DAD!KURT HC'S??? PLS I BEG' - @thel0v3hashira143

Warnings: Baby themes, mentions of breastfeeding and other recovery things from birth and pregnancy.

A/N: Pleaseee I love Kurt as a dad <3 Dad!Kurt has to have a goatee I don't make the rules 😩

Kurt loves being a dad. He's always wanted to be a father and he was so excited when you got pregnant and gave birth. He was so attentive to you, and during labor and the birthing process, he was there helping as much as possible.

When it was the first night home from the hospital, he made sure you got your baby inside safely and you got to bed right away. He didn't want you moving around too much. He had already prepped the bedroom, the bassinet was beside the bed for you to easily reach for your baby at night for feedings.

He had water, cream, medicine, everything you needed. He popped up at night when he felt you move, checking on you nearly every hour.

If you wanted to only breastfeed, he'd absolutely be okay with that, and he'd make sure you were alright doing so. He would help you pump and offer bottles if you needed, but he'd mostly try to respect your wants.

I don't think Kurt would care what gender the baby is. He'd love it no matter what. I always had a feeling that if he had a boy he'd name it Gabriel.

Names in general can be played with. You can imagine him going the religious route, or the German route, or if you have a name you like from your own culture, then you could choose that. Kurt is just happy you're having a baby, the name isn't something he's going to argue about with you.

Kurt is absolutely super protective over the baby and you, especially fresh from the hospital. He advocates your wishes to all your friends and family. No visitors, no pictures, no holding the newborn, etc. whatever rules you have.

You love watching him hold your baby, how he cradles them in his arms and hums so sweetly. He gently rubs his nose into the baby's tiny one, he's so gentle with them.

He kisses your baby's feet, listening to the sweet giggles because his beard tickles their toes. He loves to give them raspberries too.

He likes to sing German lullabies or songs to your baby. His singing voice is actually really good.

You thought Kurt was protective before, but once your baby moves around more often, he becomes even more so. Anyone says anything about your baby's appearance or yours after your pregnancy, he loses it. You didn't think that would get you going but...damn.

Your baby would be bilingual. They'd learn English and German growing up.

Walking is fun. With the tiny tail your baby has, balance is much easier, so your baby is walking long before normal babies walk.

As your baby grows, their little voice develops an accent in both languages, and you both adore it. Kurt is so proud of your little one, going on and on about how smart they are and how they get it from you.

Kurt loves dressing your baby too, he definitely puts them in little overalls or lederhosen.

Kurt plays with your little one all the time, especially at parks, he loves pushing them in the swing and sliding down the slide with them in his lap. He absolutely makes up extravagant make believe scenarios about sailing the seas on a big pirate ship, aka the couch.

Speaking of...pirate costumes for Halloween is a MUST.

Also let's not forget the spoiling your child will endure. Kurt gets them whatever they want. Stuffed animals, toys, clothes, sweets, within reason of course. But he can't resist.

Kurt loves to cook German dishes for you and your child, it makes him happy to do and it connects you and your child closer to his roots.

Bedtime stories are big for Kurt too. The showman he is, he tells the stories in different voices, he completely acts out the parts to make your child giggle and laugh. He tucks your little one in and gives them a kiss, a soft lullaby, then it's off to dreamland.

You adore seeing this side of Kurt, he's grown into a wonderful parent, even if he did have some worries before. He is absolutely perfect. A perfect father and a perfect husband.

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover images: Immortal X-Men #7 (2022), Pinterest for others

[nsharks]

just practice | simon "ghost" riley

aka you're the first pussy ghost eats tags: fem!reader, oral sex, smut, 18+

Caramel eyes flicker over you. Nonchalant, a little dazed. As if he doesn't care about the admission he has just let slip. His fingertips are digging into the soft pad of your breast; reddened skin where he'd just been sucking lazily.

"…Never?"

Though, maybe it's not such a surprise. This man, often coming to you dripped in the scent of residual gunpowder, seems to crave touch as much as he leans away from it. Kissed you for the first time only after flinching away. Preferred taking you from behind. Kept his clothes on each time you fucked so that only his cock, hands, and the crescent of his hips gave away any skin.

Despite this, he was a giving lover so far. He'd learned after just a few times that you liked his mouth to your nipples. Squirmed, even more, when he bared his teeth to them. You liked his fingers to your clit at the same time as his cock to your cervix. He paid attention, studied you. You'd noticed in the past month of these heated exchanges that he would glance at your cunt and marvel at it. A silent gospel. But never, not yet, has he placed his mouth there.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

His hand is dipped in the plush of your cunt. It's been lingering there for some time, fingering you slowly, inviting a slickness. This is a rare moment where he's truly taking his time with you. Not so rough, a little more curious. He'd collected some of your arousal and brought it to his lips. Furrowed brows as he tasted them; went back for some more. Until finally, you touched the back of his mask and murmured: You can eat me out if you want.

To which he cleared his throat and offered a gruff truth.

He’d never done that before.

Now—

"Well, do you want to try it?"

Ghost studies your eyes. Looks for any signs of jest.

Then, his hand slips from your cunt and leaves it pitifully unattended for a moment. He grips your legs, and parts them purposefully. Takes his time situating himself between them. You almost get impatient but you realize: this is a first for him. You owe him patience.

He inches his mask a little higher, the fabric bunched at the end of his nose.

Ghost gives a firm kiss to your inner thigh, a little bite, before drifting his gaze up at you.

You touch his shoulder. "This is just practice, don't worry."

"M'not worried."

With a grunt, he locks his arms around your thighs and drags you a bit closer to his exposed chin, roughly now, earning him a little squeak from you. It's the heat of his breath that you feel first, your mouth normally the victim of its assault. If there's one word to label Ghost, it's warm. His lips: they just barely brush over your clit. Already, a pleasurable fever ensues. The blood rushes straight there until you're puffy for him.

Rough: his other norm. But right now he's curiously gentle. This is the first time he’s doing this because you are the first person to earn such intrigue from him, the deep inhale as he nudges his nose against your cunt evidence of that. He licks a slow, molten stripe over the entirety of your cunt, hole to your bud, and hums at the taste. Better from the source.

And then again.

"That's..." you swallow and try not to buck your hips, looking for something more. "Good. Just- maybe not so slow?"

"Greedy."

But he takes your request and adjusts, firmly placing his whole mouth over you. This time, curiosity replaced with concentration. A hymnal of licks and grazes and dripping saliva. He's not sure what to do, but he's mastered a mental block on all uncertainty: just does what his gut tells him. Usually his approach. He kisses you there like he kisses your lips, except pays a little more attention to that swollen, sensitive part of you.

"That feels good," you breathe some encouragement. "Can you just—“

You swallow thickly and prop yourself up on shaky elbows. Ghost lifts his head up and gives you a hazy look, lips plush and wet, before ticking up a brow.

"Jus' what?"

The sight of him like this, a new view, makes you lose your words. You search for them, panting, "Don't forget... lower, too. You can put your tongue inside."

He listens. Your head soon lulls back when you feel his tongue firmly press into you. One of his hands leaves your thigh to bring a thumb to your newly abandoned clit, giving skilled circles to the slick flesh. His tongue inside you figures it should mimic his cock, pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm. He’s a quick learner; you’ll give him that.

Unsteady elbows give out beneath you and soon your head is back to the pillow. Your hole quivers around his tongue— he doesn’t relent. Just concentrates on both actions at the same time, reveling in the soft cage of your thighs against his exposed stubble. You moan and mewl. An arch of your back is the signal he earns to keep doing what he’s doing. Heels digging into his back, Ghost feels his shirt bunch up because you’re applying that much pressure.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he can’t stop himself from groaning into you. Voice raspy and muffled. If he knew you’d make these kind of sounds, he’d have given you his tongue sooner.

It’s messy and hot. Saliva mixed with your leaking; a concoction that’s not possible to separate.

Writhing, you grip some of his balaclava and whine out an order, “Simon… gimme your fingers!”

“Don’t fuckin’ whine,” he admonishes, digging his fingers into your thigh. “Ask right.”

A whimper. “Simon… can you give me your fingers, too?”

Abiding, he moves his tongue and replaces it with two fingers, an unforgiving shove that gets him all the way down to the knuckles. Your cervix pounded by blunt fingertips. Your warm, sopping walls are like velvet around his digits. Groaning softly, it’s just… so much. Ghost can feel your pussy begin to throb, wishing he could just take a second to sit back and watch you.

But he’s seen you cum a few times now. All your little expressions. He knows what it looks like when your lips curl inward to relieve some of the ecstasy; your eyes clamp shut. He simply imagines it while continuing his ‘practice’. Content to keep licking and nipping and fingering you.

“Atta girl,” he growls against your clit.

Any uncertainty has been doused by the clear approach of your orgasm. His roughness is here— a blistering smack to your thigh. A firm grip of your breast. Slaps it at the same time he curls his fingers and fucks into that soft pad of you.

Your moans have no end, no beginning.

They’re an endless string that fills the room as you buck your hips. Your walls clench, then flutter. Belly frothing with a white-hot release.

Ghost licks it up. Keeps his fingers moving to push you through it.

His novice tongue is still hungry, even though you’re stuffed. Breathlessly, your heels release the pressure on his back and your legs shake.

His eyes flicker up with a newfound obsession. Reeling from your orgasm, the continued onslaught teeters towards overstimulation. Your hand is lazily pushing at his head.

“You can…” in a constricted whisper. “…stop now.”

“Need some more practice, pet.”

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - yang jeongin (6th to lose)

-> pairing : jeongin x fem!reader

-> words count : 3.9k

-> genre : smut, sexfriends

-> warnings : teasing, dirty talk, praising, lingerie, unprotected sex, fingering (f. receiving), choking (f. receiving), creampie, little bit of angst (bc they are stupid (but cute)) + the way i'm depicting jeongin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

Jeongin hadn’t seen you since they all agreed on the bet. Your whole relationship was based on sex, aka the thing he wasn’t allowed to do for a month. So, if he was seeing you just for that, there was no reason he'd start missing you, right ? 

Right ?

Well, not really since your absence had created a hole in his life. Usually, he would text with you throughout the day, talking casually, joking around, and sometimes, when you were a bit tipsy, you would call him and tell him about more serious things. But it was okay, it was what friends did. Except you weren’t supposed to be friends, simply fuck buddies, calling the other when they were in the mood. But it slowly slipped in the most comfortable friendship he ever had - with a little bonus. 

He shouldn't be missing you, since he was talking to you every day like he normally would. But he was missing your body, obviously. However, this was not what was scaring him. No. He was afraid because he started missing cuddling with you when you watched a movie, simply sleeping with you, admiring your cute, sleepy face when you woke up in the morning, making you breakfast as you hung around in his clothes, sometimes back hugging him. 

That wasn’t what he should have felt. But here he was, regretting all the life choices that led him to this, particularly calling you to tell you he wouldn’t come over for a month, because of the bet. You insisted on the fact that he could still hang out at yours if he wanted to, even if you weren’t doing anything sexual. But Jeongin had refused your offer, knowing he would be too tempted if he did. He didn’t see your smile drop at the other end of the call, nor the sour feeling creeping up your heart. 

So, he was part of the reason you were getting drunk tonight - well, he was the only reason, but too much to admit to yourself at once. You couldn’t bring yourself to accept the fact that he literally said that the only thing he wanted from you was sex. You knew that was how it all started, but it was more now. You were friends. Or at least you thought, since you apparently were just a toy in his eyes. You took another shot to stop your thoughts, wanting to only think of you tonight, not him and his stupidly attracting voice every time he said your name.

“- Isn’t that Jeongin right there ?”

You turned around so fast that your best friend almost choked on her drink, laughing at your eagerness. But you didn’t care as your eyes fell on his silhouette. A smile lightened his face as he laughed at a joke from one of his friends, and you couldn’t help staring at him. It’s been so long since you had last seen him, so long since you had last felt his touch and his lips on you. The way your heart jumped in your chest was only another proof of how much you were missing him. 

He must have felt that someone was watching him, because Jeongin turned around, his eyes diving in yours. Suddenly, it was like you couldn’t breathe anymore, as if the only source of oxygen was him and that you needed him close to you to survive. His gaze lingered on your lips, more than they should have, and when he came back to your eyes, lust was burning inside of you, lust was written all over his face. You swallowed with difficulty as you turned to your friend again, feeling like you could pass out every moment. 

“- You’re okay girl ?

- Yeah… He was just not supposed to be there tonight, that’s why I came.

- Well, you don’t have to talk to him. Wanna go dance ?”

You smiled at her, chugging the rest of your drink before following her to the other room from which loud music was coming out. Yes, Jeongin should not have been there. The friend who threw the party was the one who introduced you to each other, and he had promised you that Jeongin wasn’t coming, too busy with work lately. But he was there, and now, you couldn’t think about anything else. 

So you just tried to forget, just for a moment - drinking too much, until your head started to spin, dancing too much, until your feet hurt. You were unaware of how many times Jeongin looked at you, of how many times he wished he could come to you, take you away from this party and spend the next three days with you all alone. You were breathtaking, beautiful, and almost unreal from how gorgeous you were, making it impossible for him not to watch you dance. 

But you didn’t notice, already too wasted to care about anything else than not tripping over your own feet. You were drunk enough to feel lightheaded, but not to the point where you didn’t know what you did anymore. At least, you weren’t thinking about him too much. Only looking one or two times in his direction before your best friend slapped your arm, making you come back to reality. And finally, you reached the level of drunk where everything and anything could make you either laugh or tear up really quickly. 

It only took one person mentioning Jeongin, simply saying his name, for you to feel tears fill up your eyes almost immediately. You were missing him too much for your own good, you were missing him even if you knew the only thing he wanted from you was sex. It was too much for your intoxicated brain, and you felt the need to be alone. You excused yourself, heading quickly to the bathroom, hoping to cry for some time and that you would feel better after. 

“- Y/N ?” 

His voice calling your name made your tears fall out of your eyes, rolling on your cheeks slowly as he reached you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You turned around, having no way to escape anyway. Jeongin's eyes widened, full of worries, as soon as he noticed that you were crying. 

“- Are you okay ? Well, I suppose you’re not okay since you’re crying but is it bad bad or just bad ? Do you need anything ? Do you want water, or a hug, or something to eat ?”

Your tears blurred your vision as you cried more and more every time he said something, unable to say a coherent word or sentence anymore. 

“- Is it too much ? Do you want me to leave ?”

His hand left your shoulders, and you shivered, feeling empty and scared immediately. You needed him with you, the only thought in your mind being his warmth when he hugged you, and how comforting it was. And you needed just that right now. 

“- No, no ! Stay with me, please…”

Jeogin nobbed, putting one hand on the small of your back, bringing you to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. And then, as if he had known you for years, he opened his arms with a little smile. It was as if we knew exactly what to do to make the sadness go away. You wrapped your arms around his waist, and he did the same to you, feeling immediately safe when you pressed your head against his chest. You sighed loudly, relaxing in his hold. Maybe he was the one because of whom you were crying, but for some obscure reasons, he was also the only one capable of calming you that quickly.

“- Feeling better ?

- Yeah…”

His question came to break the silence after a moment, after running his fingers through your hair to soothe your pain away, after just listening to the muffled sounds of voices and music coming from afar. 

“- Do you want to talk about it ?”

You lifted your head from his chest, looking at him closely. He seemed genuinely worried for you, his eyes giving off so much gentleness it made your heart flutter. He shouldn’t have that effect on you. He shouldn’t make you feel that safe, so safe that you wanted to tell him all about what you were feeling right now. That you didn’t know what to do in your life because your studies didn’t interest you. That you were feeling empty most of the time. That being with people was your only way of avoiding your thoughts. That he was the only one who made you feel like you had a place to be in this world. 

“- I… I feel like I don’t know where I’m going lately. I feel so overwhelmed and stressed all the time, it’s like I can never really rest. I only feel peace when I’m with you.”

Jeongin's heart started beating faster, his eyes still fixed on yours. Your gaze was spilling out with so much tenderness and gentleness he felt like he could pass out. He tried to breathe normally, not letting his emotions take over him. He should only care about you right now, only focus on helping you get off your chest what you needed to feel better. 

“- W-With me ? 

- Hm… Everytime you hold me, I forget about everything… I like you so much Jeongin…”

He suddenly felt like he was crushed by a weight on his shoulders so heavy it made his legs weak. He gripped on your shoulders, pushing you off of him, feeling the need to get some space between you in order to get his brain to function again. You what ? He couldn’t believe it. You were drunk. Yeah, he saw you struggling to walk straight an hour before. He knew you were saying this only because alcohol was running down your veins, not because you actually meant it. However, he couldn’t help the warmth that was filling him up at your words. 

“- You shouldn’t say that to me, you’re tired and drunk. I’m gonna take you back to your place, okay ? We just have to walk for a few minutes and you’ll be comfy in your bed.

- I didn’t say this because I’m drunk. I… Shit, it’s so hard to say…”

You chuckled to yourself, sighing as you tried to gather enough strength to let the words out, the words you wanted to let out for weeks, months. The words you needed to let out, just to get over him. He said it straight to your face, that he only needed you, wanted you for your body. But you couldn’t help hope from creeping up in your heart as Jeongin looked more and more nervous as silence lingered.

“- I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

His eyes widen, his heart sinking down in his chest. What did you mean you couldn’t do this anymore ? You couldn’t see him anymore ? Why ? Why did you want that to stop ? He liked it so much when he knew that he could just call you, ask you to come over and watch movies and series for hours, cuddling with you and not even talking. It was his favourite way to spend his time. He didn’t want it to stop. 

“- At first, I thought that it could work, but now I realize that it was a mistake.”

Jeongin opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but nothing came out, no words passing through the barrier of his lips. His eyes started to fill up with tears, as well as yours. It couldn’t be true. You couldn’t say that he was a mistake. He took a step toward you, still holding your shoulders, as if being close to you again would convince you that he was worth it. 

“- You… Are you serious ? Did I do something wrong ? Did I hurt you ? Please, tell me what I’ve done and I’ll fix it. Just talk to me, please.”

You felt on the edge of crying once again, trying to keep yourself together when all you wanted was to go back in time, when nothing was complicated, when Jeongin didn’t think it was his fault because it was all yours, when you didn’t have feelings for him. You messed up your relationship, not him. 

“- No, no, no ! You didn’t do anything ! You’re just… You’re just so easy to love. I didn’t mean to fall for you, but every time you stayed the night to make sure I was sleeping well. And all the times you came right away when I called you. It just made me want to keep you with me forever. You’re so perfect, it was impossible for me not to love you.”

Your sad smile made Jeongin’s heart crumble, a tear rolling on his cheek as he took your face in his hands, kindness pouring out from every one of his touches, of his looks. 

“- You do mean it right ? It’s just not just because you’re drunk ?”

You shook your head from left to right, a much more joyful smile spreading on his lips. 

“- Well, it better be because from now on, I’m not letting you go.”

Your own smile started to widen as his words made their way to your brain, struggling to believe what he had just said. 

“- You better not.

- I already love you too much for that.”

________________

The way back to your place never seemed so long as all you wanted was to embrace Jeongin and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe anymore. Which you did as soon as you walked past the door of your apartment, pushing him against the nearest wall, finally crashing your lips onto his. He hummed happily when you did so, slipping his tongue in your mouth as he gripped your waist, pulling you even closer to him. You threw away your coat quickly, helping Jeongin to get rid of his jacket as well. You needed to touch him, needed to feel his skin on yours. 

“- Too much clothes. Take them off.”

He chuckled when you slipped your hands under the hem of his white shirt, scratching his abs lightly, just like you knew he liked it, just to get him to whine like you expected him to. 

“- Do it yourself if you want it that bad darling.”

You groaned at his teasing, only making him smirk as he laid against the wall, watching you with so much desire in his eyes as you started to undress yourself instead. Teasing had always been your thing, turning you on some more every time you played with each other patience. And you knew very well that Jeongin was obsessed with your body. So you put on a show for him, pushing the thin straps of your black dress slowly past your shoulders before you unzipped it just as slowly. You let the material slide down your body as it revealed an emerald green set of lingerie. 

“- You’re so beautiful… 

- Want to touch ?

- Yeah.

- Then take off your clothes.”

Your smirk was back, and Jeongin couldn’t help loving it, loving all the things you did to him. He felt his body burning up with a hunger for you, with a hunger to lick every nook and cranny of your skin. His teeth sunk in his bottom lip as he watched you caressing your body, hands roaming around, grabbing your tits over your bra and whining at the feeling. He wanted to tease a little more, but the fact that he hadn’t cum since almost a month, and that he had missed you so much led him to just give up and throw away his clothes quickly. 

“- Happy now ?”

You chuckled in the kiss he gave you as he picked you up from the floor easily, manhandling you to your room, where he let you down on the sheets, towering over you immediately. He resumed his kisses, this time on your neck. He always spent extra time there, licking, biting, marking, kissing. He loved to see you struggle to hide the hickeys he left on your skin, loved to pretend it meant that you belonged to him. But now, it was not pretending anymore. You were his. 

“- You’d look so good with my hands around your neck darling…”

You’ve never talked about that before, but the thought of his beautiful, veiny hands wrapping around your neck, keeping you from breathing normally, applying pressure against your throat while he was fucking you was definitely turning you on. You ran your hands through his hair, moaning when he sucked at your sensitive skin one more time.

“- Do it then.”

His head snapped up when your words reached his brain. You actually wanted him to choke you ? It was something out of his wet dreams about you, something he never wished you would want too. 

“- You’re serious ? 

- Yeah… Always wondered what it would feel like having those pretty fingers squeezing my throat…”

The look in your eyes was enough for Jeongin to spread your legs wide, helping you get rid of your underwear, the last pieces of clothing ending up somewhere in the room. His hands ran from your ankles to your thighs, never getting too close from your wet folds. The little noises coming out of your mouth as he was teasing you were music to his ears, but he wanted to hear you moan, wanted to hear you cry out his name. Jeongin finally pressed his digits on your clit, rubbing it lightly as you sighed in relief. 

“- What do you want, darling ? My fingers or my tongue ?

- Fingers, please.”

He joined your lips again as he pushed two of his fingers inside you, groaning in your mouth at how wet you were. He missed the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, missed the way you were digging your nails in his back when he was fucking you, missed your hands tugging at his hair while you two were kissing. And you missed his touch just as much. 

Jeongin started to thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy as his other hand traveled your body, from your hips to your breast, and finally, your neck. He wrapped his fingers carefully around it, applying little pressure, just to test the water, his other hand still working inside of your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, your walls clenching around him. 

“- You’re okay ?

- Hm… Tighter, please.”

He gulped, fearing that he would hurt you. But the moment he squeezed your throat harder, your moans increased, your pussy pulsating on his fingers constantly, he knew he was doing it just right - and he also knew that he was now addicted to this. You couldn’t even say a word, the lack of air making you feel lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you should have warned him, but your orgasm took you by surprise, your juices covering his hand as you fucked yourself on his fingers, letting go in the feeling of his hand wrapped up around your neck. 

“- Fuck Jeongin ! I need you… Please…

- But you just came…”

He let go of your neck immediately after you stopped grinding on his hand, caressing it gently as if he wanted the light red marks he left to go away. 

“- You’re so cute sometimes.”

He hitted your shoulder playfully as you smiled brightly.

“- I just don’t want to hurt you, idiot. 

- Just like I said, so cute…”

He shook his head before kissing you passionately, trying not to let you see how red his ears were. But you noticed it anyway, only making you want to stay in his arms forever. However, for now, you just needed him to touch you, to make you forget about all the time you wasted worrying about him sharing your feelings or not. You just needed your boyfriend. 

“- Jeongin… I really need you…

- I’m trying to find a condom baby, but someone keeps on distracting me.

- Don’t.

- What ?

- Don’t find a condom. I want you to fuck me raw, I want you to fill me up.”

Jeongin stayed still, one of his hands plunged inside the drawer of your nightstand while his eyes were fixed on you, wide open. He was dreaming, he could only be dreaming. But you hadn’t disappeared, nor seemed to be unserious. So he came back to you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, your fingers tugging gently on his hair immediately and making him whimper. He tried to stay focused as he placed himself at your entrance, sliding his cock against your wet cunt. 

“- Gosh Y/N… You can’t tell me things like that so easily…

- Why not ? Don’t you like it ?

- Too much… I’m sorry baby, I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

You pulled his hair to force him to look at you in the eyes, caressing his cheek softly.

“- I don’t care about that, we have all the time in the world. I just want to feel you in me.”

With that being said, Jeongin pushed past your folds, sliding right into you due to your wetness. The moans you both left out were certainly loud enough to wake up all your neighbors, but you couldn't care when he felt this good inside of you. You didn’t think that having the condom off would change the feeling so much, but you could now sense every curve of his dick thrusting into you, and it was driving you crazy.

“- S-Shit darling… You feel so good, so warm…”

You let out another moan, unable to do more when he pounded into you, hitting all the right places at once. You could feel that he was close by the way his cock was twitching inside of you, by the strength with which he was holding your legs up, by the increasing volume of his moans. But you could also tell that he was holding back, because his one and only goal was always to make you feel good. For once though, you wanted him to be lost in pleasure in front of your eyes, wanted to be the one making him fall apart. 

“- Go on baby, let go… I want your cum inside of me, I want it so bad.”

With one last loud moan, Jeongin collapsed over you, filling you up with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling of your walls being painted white. You’ve never felt so full before, never felt so entranced by seeing someone else's orgasm hitting them on. But watching Jeongin and running your fingers through his hair as he tried to get his breath back was one of the best ways to end your night. 

You almost thought that he had fallen asleep, until his hands started caressing the skin of your waist gently at first, then grabbing a handful of your skin just for the pleasure of hearing your little noises. You didn’t get the time to think before he let the kisses that were sprinkling the skin of your shoulders go down to your breast, your stomach, your pubis and the inside of your thighs. And only there, he looked back at your face, at your red cheeks and lust filled gaze.

“- What are you doing ?

- Making it up to you for being stupid… Plus, I always wondered which taste you’d have if I ate you out after filling you up with my cum.”

You moaned at his words and at his tongue licking you immediately after, Jeongin hiding his smudged smile between your thighs. Maybe that for once, you would stay for more than one night.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

taglist : @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoopjudgepsychic @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @chrishak @cscsi @stayconnecteed @miserya99 @puppy-minnie @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @linosssss @channiesbedbug @whosanaanyway @coastalmaine @soobywiththebooty (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because i can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings)

[steviesbicrisis]

Steve’s best relationship wasn’t even a relationship. He could barely call it a fling, a flirt. They never even went on a date. They never kissed.

Steve still thinks of it as the best whatever-it-is he has ever had with someone.

At the beginning it was mostly infuriating, how quickly Eddie managed to win the kids over, compared to Steve’s months of work as babysitter/nailbat swinger/monster fighter. Steve had to literally bleed multiple times to get an ounce of respect, Eddie only had to run a nerdy club about fictional bleeding and monster-fighting.

Then somehow, and Steve still has trouble pinpointing when and how it happened, everything changed.

Taking the kids back home from hellfire became something he impatiently waited for.

He and Eddie would barely talk for a few minutes and he would find himself replaying the conversation in his head for days. Anything he could say to get a reaction out of Eddie became fundamental, and if he started by picking subjects to piss him off, he ended learning about Eddie’s favorites, because few minutes after hellfire were never enough and Steve needed Eddie to talk as much as possible, until the kids were begging to drop it and go home.

Steve never questioned the change, most likely out of fear. He doesn’t think he ever was clueless, just really scared about what would potentially mean to be staring at another dude’s eyelashes as he goes on a rant about why Ozzy Osbourne is the best artist of his generation. Or blush whenever said dude would call him “baby”, or “sweetheart”.

Steve convinced himself that the thing he and Eddie were having was as good as it was going to get, nothing more.

Then Chrissy Cunningham died, Eddie ran, and Steve realized that the thing will never be enough for him.

He couldn’t not have Eddie. Not watch him as he entertains a bunch of freshmen, as he stomps with his worn out sneakers on top of forniture, as he puts his terrible music on to push away anyone who doesn’t care enough about him to stay.

Steve needed to see Eddie being alive, doing what his heart desires, and he needed to be next to him when he does.

Obviously, this realization came at the worst possible time.

Steve tried to tell him so many times: when they found him at the boathouse, when he was hiding at refer Rick’s house, when they were taking a stroll in the upside down, and even when they were driving a stolen trailer to a gunshop.

But, it seemed, Eddie had come to a realization just as important and he tried his best to avoid Steve at every given chance.

Steve tried to initiate the conversation as Eddie did his best to run away from it. And he ran until Steve had no chances left to tell him how he actually felt.

———

Steve doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say he lost something he never had. To mourn a relationship he never began. A partner that, technically, never became a partner.

After Eddie dies, Steve has no one to be next to but he can’t say he ever did.

Steve just exists waiting. He can’t tell if he’s waiting for the pain to go away or for Eddie to jump out of a bush and yell “ah! I got you sucker!! By the way, I’m in love with you too.”

For obvious reasons, that never happens.

What does happen, is a call.

It’s a normal Tuesday, as normal as you could define it after Hawkins almost collapsed into the upside down. Steve got into a routine, between checking on the ones at the hospital, helping out at the shelter, allowing Robin to check on him to see if he’s still alive.

The call happens while Robin is doing her kitchen check up - aka making sure he has food and that he’s eating it-, so she picks the phone like she did a million times before.

“Harrington residence, this is Robin” she says, cheerfully.

Steve doesn’t pay much attention to it as he’s folding his dad’s old clothes that intends to donate to the shelter, until he hears Robin’s loud gasp.

“What is it? Is it the hospital? Is it Max?” He rushes to the other room where Robin is.

She doesn’t answer but she gives him a look as she passes him the receiver.

Steve goes quiet, a million thoughts going through his head as he takes the phone from Robin.

He’s still unprepared when he hears that unmistakable voice “Baby”.

Steve gasps for breath “Eddie?”

Is that really you? What happened? Are you hurt? Isn’t this impossible? Is what goes on in Steve’s head, but he ends up just asking “are you okay?”

He can hear a chuckle, Eddie’s wicked chuckle, a further confirmation that it is him, “I’m- hanging in there… are you okay?”

Steve finds the question absurd. He isn’t the one who got left in the upside down, the one that got eaten by demonic bats, the one who died before Steve had the chance to tell him how he felt.

He answers truthfully nonetheless, “I’m… I’m not okay.”

“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Please Eddie, come quick.”

“I’ll break the sound barrier for you.”

[mvskedxrtist]

Hello there so I saw you write Hazbin hotel you can do this request anytime you want.

Anyway- can I request Alastor x top male reader.

Alastor was in the mood / heat because he a deer demon after all and decide to go ask his husband (reader) too helping just smut and fluff after sex.

Before I request this I already read the rule because I don't want to be unrespectful.

I'm not English so- if I say something that making you confused I am so sorry and apologize for it.

My Needy Deer

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Praise, Edging, Soft Alastor, Slightly OOC Alastor, Oral (M Giving)

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Thank you for the request! Oh my first request! I'm so happy that I was trusted for this prompt! A new star in the form of this will be in the sky because of you! Aka, thank you so much for this! I'm so excited. Now for this request, if Alastor is a bit OOC, I'm sorry. I really tried my hardest to keep him as canon as possible while doing this.

AMAB!Husband!Reader x Alastor - My Needy Deer

It was a normal day in Hell, like usual. Murder, sex, chaos, everything was happening like it has. It was three months away from the fated extermination and Alastor decided to just do a normal radio broadcast for that day.

The Radio Demon was taunting Vox once again through his microphone when he got a sinking feeling in his stomach, heat pulling in as his ears fell on his head. "Damn it..." He muttered and walked out of his studio before heading back towards his shared room in the hotel.

Alastor had walked into the room and sighed gently when he saw you reading on the lounge chair. "Well hello, darling." "Oh, hello Alastor. You finished your show early." You got up from the chair and placed the book on the end table as you got up and petted his head.

You instantly noticed how Alastor's grip on his staff was more stiff than usual and that his ears were down. "Al... Are you ok?" You asked him gently and gave him a soft smile which made his face get slightly red.

He had realized once walking in that he was in his heat and you just getting closer to him just made his urges worse. "My dear husband... It's that time of the year..." Alastor told you gently while his tail was shaking gently, his nerves going a bit crazy until you held his hips gently and chuckled. "Aww, ok then baby."

You placed his staff on the side of the bed and pulled him onto the bed, helping him get undressed quickly. Alastor felt his senses heighten even more and helped you take your clothes off quickly before he started sucking your cock quick. "Gah!~ Fuck yes..~" You groaned under your mouth and leaned back a bit to watch your husband become obsessed once again with your cock.

Alastor whined softly as he continued to suck on your dick, trying to stimulate you quickly so then his heat could be solved faster. You grumbled and pushed Alastor's head off your cock before laying him down and sliding into his asshole quickly, groaning loudly from how tight he was.

You smirked at his dazed face, looking down to see the oh so powerful radio demon seem so fucked out. Alastor's tail and ears were down flat as you were pounding his ass hard, crackling moans coming from his mouth. "S-shit!~ H-hahh~ d-daddy~" He wrapped his arms around your neck while he could feel by going deeper.

Your thrusts went so deep inside of him at such a fast pace that he could barely keep his mind clear, only thinking about you filling him with your cum and giving him fawn. "Such a pretty doe~ so obedient for me~" You caressed his face with your thumbs while you thrusted faster, loud clapping filling the room.

Alastor's face flushed slightly from your words and whined softly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came all over himself. You chuckled and kissed him gently as you slammed deep inside of him and came inside of his asshole. Alastor was exhausted and gave you a lopsided smile while you chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down.

"How do you feel my deer?" "Absolutely exhausted, my husband." You both chuckled softly and cuddled against one another, resting for the night.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 1)

welcome a new multi-chapter fic. enjoy.

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

P1 - bulgarian split squats

Really, the only way to survive Formula 1 was by going to the gym. 

The gym addiction was something that had existed long before joining the circus of a motorsports paddock filled with politics and rumours, as well as the slim fitting uniforms that always seemed to be accompanied by, in your opinion, ugly ass shoes. 

Sure, Puma was the offical sponsor but couldn’t they get anything other than the Speedcat? And what even was that name? Speedcat? It was on brand, sure, but at what cost? Really? If Formula 1 was trying to grow its popularity they could honestly start with their dress code. Seeing Christian Horner in Skechers really took the intimidation out of him when you served him his double espresso during the Spanish Grand Prix that one time last season. 

One of the perks of working in Hospitality - and there were very few far and in between - was that uniform was not so strict. F1 Hospitality only required an all black service with ‘comfortable shoes.’ This you took for interpretation. Dunks. Jordan 4s. Maybe 1s. Never 13s. Forces were good for a night race - that usually meant more stairs - and Vans were what you reached for in the morning when you knew you’d be working the barista shift. Converse were for ‘throw away’ races.

These were the races where you knew the shoe-care was not important. For example, Silverstone with its torrential UK drinkers who were likely to throw up on your beloved sneakers. Alas, you had learned the hard way when you almost lost your job by rushing to the kitchen to start scrubbing the vomit off your blue and red Cortez during peak lunch.

Never again.

Admittedly, you did try to keep at least one pair of Converse in good care since they were the renowned shoe come leg day. 

Another perk of working in F1 Hospitality was that every circuit’s map layout had been drilled into your head. Meaning you always knew exactly where the communal driver’s gym was located at and could therefore get your daily dose of dopamine before dealing with… well, everything.

You silenced the shrill horror that came from the iPhone alarm. 4:00 read the lockscreen, the light shining brightly into your face. It didn’t help that your wallpaper had a photo with a clear blue sky, making the light even harsher in the darkness. You could’ve very well changed it and avoid the pain you routinely go through every morning. But it was this very photo that reminded you why you were getting up in four in the morning in the first place. 

You had snapped it during a free practice in Italy that had miraculously lined up with a break in your shift. The sky was clear and the red car was small, but clear on the circuit. Ferrari, of course. You still remember the buzz that circled around the paddock staff that day. No matter who you routed for or whatever bias you had, there was a unanimously acknowledgement that Ferrari winning at Monza was special. He was special. 

Then again, you’ve known that long before he stood on that podium in Italy and was given his infamous nickname. 

It didn’t even take you ten minutes until you were out the door. Your gym clothes (pump cover included!) were on the one limpy chair that decorated your poor little hotel room, your shaker sat on top of your gym bag with you black high top Converse right beside it. By the time you had made it to the gym, it was a little past 4:15 and you had already scooped in pre-workout into your mouth ready to get through the oncoming pain. 

Your hips were a little tight, as per normal. The left side even more so. The hood of your hoodie was up, headphones on and blasting the hardstyle house music that would see you through the next two hours. You went through your usual stretches but with today’s added focus on the lower body. 

And then you went about destroying your legs. 

It was about an hour or so that Oscar finally sleepily arrived. You weren’t actually sure what time it was but you were up to doing bulgarian split squats - and hating life - and that was usually at the hour mark. You gave him a curious once over, noting the odd choice of clothing. It was a little odd to see a driver in the paddock wearing athleisure that wasn’t their team uniform.

“Bro, it’s five in the morning.” Oscar groaned, shuffling over to come and sit on the bench next to you. You gave another three more reps - Oscar silently watching you groan in pain through the last two - and then finally dropped the dumbbells. You reached over to take a sip of water and checked the phone for the time.

“It’s five thirteen in the morning.” You corrected. It had been just about the hour mark. “Are we training today or?” It wasn’t the first time Oscar had joined you. The reason his neck was getting stronger was because of you. In your opinion, the trainer Alpine had assigned Oscar was a fucking idiot.

“You’re doing legs.” Oscar pointed out, as if that was enough of an answer. He leaned to lay back down on the bench and stared up as he continued to speak. “Drivers don’t need bulky legs. We’ve been over this.”

You had. Many times. You knew he was right. It still would be nice to have someone to go through legs with you, though.

“So train with light weights.” You offered, trying. Oscar just gave you a look that made it clear he was not picking up any type of weights. You shrugged, not deterred. “I’ll do calisthenics with you. Or we can work on plyometrics.” Oscar’s response was to close his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Fuck it man, do some cardio.” You came to the last resort, coming to kick his legs as you walked past to load up the smith machine with some different plates. 

“Piss off Tezza.” The Australian-ness continuing to shine through with the nickname that Oscar had specifically designed for you in respect of your shared citizenship to the ‘land down under.’

Except unlike the blond caucasian boy who loved AFL, grew up in Brighton East and attended Haileybury, your Australian-ness was less obvious. Your accent, for one, wasn’t as prominent since your parents were African immigrants. This, of course, didn’t just influence your speech patterns and accent.

Dark skin, dark eyes and dark hair, you weren't exactly the picture of a 'true blue Aussie.' The rite of public school bullying from those who did look 'Australian' (whatever that meant) had you scoffing at vegemite and preferring to follow EPL and La Liga than whatever the fuck was Aussie Rules Football.

Why is it called football if the players pick up the ball?

Still, when a homesick Oscar Piastri overheard one of the Hospitality staff yell out that that they were going for a 'Macca’s run' between the practice sessions on his very first F1 race weekend, he instantly picked up on the Australian-ism. And he didn’t let it go. And cue the beginning of a friendship that had Oscar Piastri calling you ‘bro’ and shortening your last name as per Australian rite.

Even if you had sworn off that sort of thing.

“Oscar, man, if you ain’t here to train then why are you?” You said, locking the plates in place on the smith machine. You lifted up your hood up and ducked under the bar to rest the metal against you shoulders, the hood acting as a cushion. The starting weight was light enough that you wouldn't have to worry about music for your first set. Besides, if Oscar was here, he could be the entertainment for this set. “You forget that this is a driver’s only gym. You could get in trouble." The sarcasm was all too clear in your voice.

No one used the ‘drivers-only’ gym. It was something that every Grand Prix had set up. Mobile, communal and high-end, it had enough equipment to rival the local 24/7 studio franchise gym that seemed to exist in every neighbourhood. Despite the fact that every driver preferred to train at their own motorhome gym - or that every team had their own mobile gym set up in conjunction to the motorhome - F1 still went about packing up and moving their own studio gym to every single location come race weekend.

If anything, it was a nice stop during the presentation walk during the sponsorship lunches where good old Stefano Domenicali would show off all the amazing resources that the Grand Prix space has to offer. 

So, no. F1’s Driver Gym was not used.

The only reason it wasn’t gathering dust was because every weekend it was packed up and moved. That and you woke up at 4am every weekend to destroy your muscles in the familiar red and black equipment.

"You're here." Oscar reminded you. "And not a driver."

You ignored him and just kept up with your repetitions, focusing on engaging your glutes and keeping your core tight. Oscar was silent as you finished your first set. When you finished your last rep, he stood up and came round as you locked the machine. He knew you well enough to pick up the 10kg and help add it to the sides.

"Thanks." You said. Oscar nodded and added the weight to the other side. There was a quiet air for a moment and you went to pick up your headphones to put them back on. Things were getting heavier and you would need music to get through the next few sets.

“I might be leaving Alpine.” 

You looked up at Oscar who dropped the bomb and then looked back at your headphones. You sighed and then dropped the headphones back to land in your gym bag. Headphoneless, you went back to the machine and Oscar took your invitation.

“Zak Brown approached me yesterday and suggested something about picking me up for next year.” Oscar said.

You just kept squatting. Oscar was far too removed to yet be aware of - well, everything.

“And with talk of Fernando quitting, I know that Alpine will be calling me up but do I trust that? Honestly Lando has been doing so well and Ocon has always pissed me off.” Oscar watched as you started to struggle.

He stood up and came around to help you but you just shook you head. You pushed through one more rep and then called it. 

“He does have a punchable face.” You said, now out of breath. Esteban had always annoyed you and before meeting Oscar, you used to dread the weekends where you were put on Alpine.

Your friend handed you the water bottle sat beside your gym bag before you could even ask. You gave a two finger salute in thanks as he continued on.

“And Lily and I got into this massive fight again! Apparently I don’t communicate enough!” He huffed. “But I sent her flowers and chocolates because she’s going through finals and she likes daisies and Cadbury."

“Yeah, but is that her love language though?” You asked, dropping your bottle and going to stack up the final set of weights on the smith machine. Oscar stood up again to help you.

“Her what?” He asked, handing you the plate.

“Love language.” You answered, still panting, and explained, “You’ve got physical touch, gift giving, quality time, words of affirmation and acts of service.” 

“Are you saying people love in specific ways?" Oscar asked, quick to process new information as always.

“Exactly. You did something nice for her, an act of service. Maybe all she wants is a nice, long phone call or maybe some texts complimenting her or something.” You shrugged and then brought up your headphones.

Oscar accepted this, knowing the last set would require music.

He watched you as you settled back under the smith machine bar and went on squatting more than his body weight. He shook his head and ran a hand over his face. He really shouldn't have been surprised at your lack of surprise. Little shocked you. That or your might’ve already known and just kept it to yourself. F1 Hospitality were a part of the Formula One Group and, therefore, were not associated to any one team. They had rotations across all teams and, therefore, every member of staff were required to sign an NDA. Not that ever did anything in this damn place.

Still, Oscar knew that you were one of the few genuine people left in this place.

He knew that there would’ve been so many opportunities where you could’ve easily done something for yourself by recounting something you had overheard while pouring Toto Wolff his coffee or serving Mattia Binotto his lunch. It was the reason why so many teams hired their own internal hospo staff.

It was also the reason why Oscar felt comfortable coming to tell you about Alpine and McLaren before he had even told his own parents, or Lily. The argument with his girlfriend had prevented him from getting any sleep, mulling it over in his mind for hours. Oscar knew you would be able to help him through it all.

And that you would be the only one awake at this godforsaken hour.

By the time you had finished your first set, he was Googling love languages and having a quick read through. 

By the time you had finished your second set, he was halfway through doing the love languages quiz.

By the time you had finished your third and final set, he was seeing what the problem was between him and Lily.

“I think Lily is words of affirmation and I'm acts of service." He said, coming up to the machine as you stepped back and pulled down your headphones. You blinked and nodded, still put of breath. "I think I forgot to check in with her and send her some compliments. Tell her I'm proud of her for getting through exams. Especially because she never is one for gifts, really."

You held out your hand to him. "There you go. Growth."

"I don't know what to do about Alpine."

"Call a lawyer."

Oscar pursed his lips and then considered this. That wouldn't be his first move but thinking about it, it was probably for the best. "That's actually a good idea."

"Isn't that why you're here?" You retorted. "Since you're not here to train. Speaking of which, the fuck is that?"

“What?” He asked and realised you were looking at his feet.

“Zak Brown isn’t going to hire you if he finds out that you’re wearing fucking thongs with socks.” You said, finally recognising the flip-flops he wore with some white socks that really needed to be washed. 

“You’ve been a great help, thanks.” Oscar smiled. You rolled your eyes and went to your gym bag. Pulling out a pair of white Adidas Sambas, you tossed them to Oscar.

“Put these on.”

“Is my footwear really that offensive to you?”

“We’ll go run the track.” You said then gestured to all of him. “It’ll help you burn all of this off.”

Oscar sighed and did as he was told. He laced up the shoes you'd given him that surprisingly fit his large feet and followed you out to the track. He used his pass to get through since a driver running the track at 5:30 in the morning would just be seen as the dedication to the grind. A Hospitality staff member would just be accused of breaking in. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re going through a crisis. I’ve always wanted to do a morning run on the track.” You said with a grin as the pair of you came to the starting line that, in a matter of hours, would be full of mechanics, engineers, reporters, camera crew members and, of course, drivers.  

“If I get a seat at McLaren, you can be my trainer.” Oscar said as you both started warming up into a light jog.

"Ha." You snorted. "As if you could afford me, bro."

next ch [2] >

[carlsangel]

CARL GRIMES HEADCANONS (PT 2)

(for curvy!fit!fem!reader. reader has known carl since the start!!!!)

tags: fluff!!! little tiny pieces of angst

masterlist here!

btw, these headcanons go farther than season 8, aka if carl hadn’t…you know -_-

✦ At the quarry, you and Carl would mess around in the woods a lot. You never quite understood what was going on but you guys did your best to stay entertained. He has his own toys and since you didn’t really have the opportunity to take your own or find some, he shared with you and that’s how you became friends.

✦ After Carl got shot you took every opportunity to spend time with him. You practically never left his side at the farm, up until the prison. After Lori passed, you tried your best to give him space but at some point you helped him realize that being cold wasn’t the solution to grief. The prison was the start to his large crush on you and yours on him.

✦ When Carl got his gun back he taught you how to properly clean a gun, you were trained back at the farm like he was. Cleaning his gun was an activity he liked doing so he invited you, his favorite person to share the fun with. He loved doing that but also reading comics so sometimes he would invite you into his cell just to sit there and quietly read. He enjoyed your presence even if you were just quiet the whole time.

✦ Reading comics was something he’d share with you for a while after the prison. You stayed with him through the fall of the prison and you experienced probably the worst of the worst beside him. After everything, the Claimers and Terminus, he felt okay but only because you were there with him. “Are you okay?” You ask. “Im okay. As long as you’re here.” He replies, sort of shyly. This was what helped him realize how much he loves you. He wanted to express that to you without directly saying it and he did that by using physical affection or giving you objects he think you’d like.

✦ At the church, he sat down with you on one of the pews and gave you a small gift. The day before, right after Terminus the group separated to look for supplies. Him and Michonne searched a house and he ended up finding a small dinosaur keychain he thought you’d like.“I found something for you.” he tells you. He pulls it out and gently plops it in your palm. “I thought maybe you’d like it…for your backpack.” After that and seeing your reaction, he knew he wanted to be with you.

✦ You were really hesitant about Alexandria, you were worried it would fall apart just like the prison did. Carl was able to convince you that it’d be good for you, even if some of the group thought otherwise. When you arrived, he held your hand until he was pried away from your side to go do an interview with Deanna. In that interview he mostly talked about you. “She’s really strong…she deserves this more than anyone.” He tells her. You also started your relationship soon after arriving.

✦ Alexandria falling the first time was horrid for you. You were worried it’d never go back to the way it was. Carl getting shot again only made it worse. Although he was the one that was injured, he assured you everything would be okay. Once he woke up and dealt with the reality of losing his eye, you’d cuddle with him just talking about how you wanted your future to be. He’d rest his chin on top of your head which was laid on his chest. “Alexandria will go back to normal soon. One day we’ll be leading this place. You know?”

✦ Throughout the Savior war, you stood beside him and supported him in the decisions he’d made. He basically saved Alexandria and he couldn’t have done it without your support. At the end of it all, his dad took his wish in locking Negan up rather than killing him in order to maintain peace without death.

✦ As time went by, he started to fall more in love with you and he noticed your body more. He loved the way your clothes hugged your curves. He absolutely was infatuated with your body. From that point forward he just touched you ALWAYS. He adored cuddling with you, holding your hand, holding your waist. He hugs you from behind and rubs his hands along your tummy as he kisses your neck. He’s super sweet with you, after the war was over he was happy to just be able to relax and be gentle.

✦ As time goes on and you get older, the both of you take up leadership positions in Alexandria. You get to work together to better Alexandria. At some point you’re able to move into Deanna’s old home. When clearing it out, you find the old camera that she used to interview people. You’d watch each other’s interviews and giggle over the sweet stuff you said about each other.

a/n: sorry for not really incorporating the curvy part HEJSJFHDH i struggled a tad with that. i started doing match ups!!!! so if u want one u can read the info for that and it’s linked in my masterlist :))) i love u bye!!!!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[zhongrin]

so that even the world does not doubt that you are mine

— aka their ways to stake their 'claim' on you (in a cute and wholesome way)

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, ayato, childe, xiao, diluc, wanderer, cyno, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ teeth-rotting stomach-hurting fluff, dragon!li, childe calls himself your puppy

◇ a/n ◇ *throws this at yall after the angst last week* HERE'S YOUR THERAPY BILLS /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

aside from the obvious way he gravitates around you whenever you’re in public - sometimes with his arm resting on your back and other times with yours looped around his - zhongli never does tell you but he has a little ritual he never fails to perform every morning before he goes his merry way to the funeral parlor.

they do not look like much from a normal person’s perspective, but had you listened religiously to all the tales he told you throughout your relationship, you would have understood the ancient gestures’ meanings to the dragons of the olden days.

today too is no exception; he lets you run your delicate fingers up his proud, battle-scarred horns as you clean them before moving on to clip his hair with his usual hairclip. at the end of it all, he thanks you with a soft nip to your nape.

“there you go. all set. thank you, dearest. have a good day, and i’ll see you again at lunch later, yes?”

ayato believes that the way one dresses - at least in public that is - could make or break a business deal or a potential ally, therefore, he always upholds himself to dress sophistically at all times. and while he normally does not force you to follow this belief, the number of clothing articles and the finest accessories gracing your doorstep could get a little burdensome…

but the moment he sees you out and about with that specific haori he custom-tailored just for you, its color scheme and the fine embroidery literally screaming ‘kamisato clan’? hmmm… perhaps if wearing them would make him this happy, you should consider doing it more often?

“that haori looks lovely on you, darling. hmm? people were being more polite than usual today, you say? haha, i’d say they were besotted by your loveliness, dear. soft blues and whites have always looked good on you, afterall.”

childe might be a good actor, but sadly his subordinates are not.

so it really isn’t a surprise when, after befriending the harbinger, you open your door to see a fatui agent conspicuously spying on you right across your lawn.

and when you started dating?

it got worse.

it didn’t even take you a full day to count all five agents trailing after you like lost puppies. you would have thought they learned to disguise themselves after all these times, but no. they look horribly out of place with their huge weapons and flashy uniforms. sure, they’re fulfilling their purpose by being flashy, but you’d prefer if people don’t run away from you in fear whenever you try to talk to them!

…. it seems like it’s time to give them a crash course on how to dress and act more inconspicuously.

“did the dogs misbehave today? no? i’m glad!! ….. still, you sound like you’re getting fond of them…. hey, i’m still your number one puppy, right? right??”

there are no such things as adepti’s blessings, and yet you carry xiao’s with you everywhere you go.

not that you’re aware of it.

but it shows. it's indicated by the remnants of anemo energy trailing upon your steps. of how his trinkets clink gently against your accessories, always subtle and never too intruding, effectively shooing the evil spirits vying upon possessing your body. in the way the breeze hums gently as it listens to all of the sounds surrounding you, silently protecting, watching, vigilant.

though he might not be able to watch you 24/7, xiao will always continue to make tremendous efforts to keep you safe.

“welcome back. i’m glad you had a good day today.”

a walking contradiction, this one.

wanderer says he does not enjoy being stared at as you walk through the market, yet he scowls when people ignore him in favor of talking to you instead. he says he does not enjoy sweet food and yet he continues to kiss you, tells you that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, silently pleading for more with the insistent chase of his lips when you retreat. he says he doesn’t feel the need to announce your relationship to the public eye, and yet the moment someone gets just a little bit too friendly with you, he’s there, almost hissing like an angry cat chancing upon a dog wagging their tail at his unsuspecting owner - his hand settles on your and his hip sticks onto yours, and if looks could kill the unfortunate soul would have been blown a thousand feet into the air and falling rapidly to its demise a hundred times over.

“…… hah! coward. shouldn't have coveted what you can’t have. stupid human. wh- the hell are you doing?! stop pinching my cheek! and how many times do i have to tell you that i’m not ‘cute’!”

him staking his claim on you? ha. elementary. no, no, no. the tcg legendary player uses an uno reverse card on this one. in everyone else’s eyes, there is no doubt that he is yours.

the way cyno wears your accessories whenever he’s out on duty (it matters not if it “doesn’t match” his aesthetics - he claims seeing it on himself gives him a sense of peace), the speech ticks and the mannerisms he adopts from you (tighnari was the one who picked up on it; he thinks it’s very adorable), the way he walks about sumeru city with a bunch of padisarahs in hand, tied with a ribbon of your favorite color (and more often than not, with a bag of your favorite drinks or snacks in his other hand)…

... and most of all, the way a gentle smile always spreads on his lips when someone mentions your name.

“[name]…………. hm…... come on, tighnari. i need to finish this job. what? you think we can get this done before dinner? that's ridiculous. we will finish it by lunchtime. now, get moving.”

diluc is so hesitant to stake his claim on you most days, but after a while, it comes almost naturally to him.

he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but the way he refers to you as his whenever your name comes up in conversations is so smooth, people could easily miss it if they don’t pay enough attention to his words. from “my spouse? yes, they’re doing fine” to “adelinde, where has my beloved gone off to? they weren’t in the study room”, he has mastered the subtle art of painting you as one of his people in others’ eyes, but on the contrary, the implied message is clear - “if you hurt them, i will not hesitate to take action.”

“my betrothed? no, they’re not with me today. but if you need to tell them something, you can always tell me and i’ll relay it to them.”

whenever he is not within the walls of his new office, al haitham is always seen with you.

in the bustling streets of sumeru, the acting grand sage sticks by your side, sometimes with his hand holding yours, or with you sticking to him like a koala under that cape of his. if one stops by the grand bazaar, they would see him carrying bags upon bags of items as you try to haggle for the 'exorbitant’ amount of mora needed to buy a pack of allspices. and whenever one happens to take a spontaneous stroll in the lush woods surrounding the city, they might stumble to the two of you stargazing, with your head pillowed on your lover’s arm, his expression smoothed out in serene bliss.

there is no mistaking your relationship, for the whole population of sumeru could unanimously agree even without the now-obsolete akasha terminal’s guide: he is yours just as you are his.

“tsk. it is outside office hours right now, i- hm? ah- i… see. you merely wished to inform me where [name] is? very well. this does not mean i will approve of the proposal for your darshan.” “.... but i will at least extend my gratitude and check on it latest by the end of office hours tomorrow.”

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town

[genshin-scenarios]

A Leyline Incident (Wanderer x Reader)

Summary: A leyline mishap has transported you and Wanderer into his memories – aka back to when he was still Kabukimono.

This'll wear off in a few hours, but you don’t know how long you can last when Wanderer’s acting like this.

Established relationship/you’re already together. He’s just pushing your buttons as usual.

Content warnings: Rated teens and up!

Wordcount: 1100+

“Move to the side. Am I just supposed to sit on one inch of this chair?”

“What are you talking about?! I’m about to fall off here!” Your indignant whisper quickly turns into a strangled sound when Wanderer slots himself to your side, pushing his body against you.

There are countless more places he could sit, but of course he chooses the most inconvenient one to stay close to your side. After you’d been found together at the edge of the village, Wanderer had quickly introduced you as a traveler he befriended from his foraging trips.

Considering how even his clothes were transformed into the white and purple garb he used to wear, you were the only oddity in the situation. With a defeated sigh, you played along, letting Wanderer adopt the demeanor of his past self as he loops your elbows together, leading you into Tatarasuna.

But even if he was friendly as Kabukimono, wouldn’t the villagers still find it weird if he’s so attached to you?! Granted, the swordsmiths and workers milling about are fragments from his memories, but they’re still fully capable of interacting like normal.

Katsuragi turns to the both of you, handing Wanderer a bowl of soup. “Just let us know if your friend needs anything else. It wouldn’t do for us to count them out of dinner, after all.”

“Thanks, Katsuragi!” Wanderer switches his tone effortlessly, wearing a smile so innocent that your stomach turns in disbelief. “They’re a little tired, so I’ll show them to the guestroom later.”

The idea of being stuck in a room when Wanderer’s dressed and acting like this is enough to make you stand up, trying to escape despite how dark the sky is. “Actually, I feel fine. So maybe I can help with serving—”

“—But didn’t you say you’ve been traveling all day?” Wanderer interrupts. His brow furrows in worry, raising a spoonful of soup to you. “You should eat and rest. I’m sure the villagers won’t mind!”

“Any friend of Kabukimono’s is a friend of ours.” Katsuragi confirms. “It’s only a night’s stay, after all. If you’d still like to help out, we can discuss it in the morning.”

Worst of all is the expectant look on both of their faces as you sit, frozen, staring at Wanderer’s hand still offering to feed you.

There’s amusement glimmering in his eyes even as he retains that sweet smile. “The grannies are really good at cooking, so you should try some!”

You grit your teeth, mustering all the patience and peace in the world as you lean forward and take a bite. It’s surprisingly good, though that might have to do with Wanderer’s memory of the soup rather than anything you’re actually consuming.

After that, you manage to save your dignity a little by taking the bowl from him and finishing the rest yourself, just so you could excuse yourself and retreat away from the villagers. Wanderer brings you to one of said guestrooms, where you immediately round to berate him.

“Just because this is one of your memories doesn’t mean you can go ahead and—”

“Mess around?” He takes the words right out of your mouth, lips quirked with mirth. Here stands the Wanderer you know. But what you don’t expect is for him to drive the point forward, taking a slow step towards you with every sentence. “But don’t you find it endearing to see me acting like that? Wide-eyed, well-meaning… Willing to do anything for you with a smile?”

“The leyline must’ve dropped you on the head before we woke up here.” You panic, realizing that your back has just hit the wall. He’s too close, and the glint in his eyes spell nothing good for your wellbeing. “Heck, you could even be lying about your old personality, and I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“Hm. Regardless, I’ve gotten you into quite a spot.” Wanderer leans over you, and you think he’s about to kiss you for a second before he simply lingers there, giving you a smirk.

“You know what? We’re done.” You slide down to sit on the ground, trying to avoid his gaze because there’s no way you started leaning in and he had the audacity to tease you. Your deadpan is a giveaway that you’re simply flustered, covering your face with your eyes shut and words muffled. “I don’t know you anymore. Goodbye.”

“Well that’s rather hurtful.” He crouches so you’re at the same height, propping his chin atop his palm. “I was going to let you choose how I’d kiss you.”

You allow yourself to peek at him, curiosity winning over. “…In what way?”

“As in,” Wanderer leans closer, moving his hand to tug at the end of your shirt. “Would you like Kabukimono, lovesick as he asks if he can kiss you?”

He mimics the pose, face tilted just enough so that he’s the one peering up at you. An image of something desperate and hopeful flashes through your mind — wide eyes and pleading for you to melt and say yes.

“Or, maybe you want me to promise I’d never leave your side.” In a cheerful, exhilarating realization that he loved you. Exclaiming it with a laugh bubbling on his lips, knowing this emotion for the first time.

His hands shift to cup your face on both sides. As Wanderer shuts his eyes, they flutter open again with a different weight to his gaze; half-lidded, he’s close enough that your lips are brushing, but doesn’t quite press them into a kiss.

“Fast forward things a little, and it’d be like this.” He traces the shape of your cheekbone. “Maybe I wouldn’t ever want to let you go, and ask for your heart to be mine.”

He’d steal it from your chest, if he really had to. You’d believe it, in the current state he’s emulating – remembering the stories he told you about his past after disaster struck Tatarasuna. When he was lost to a color of the world that struck him cruelly, believing he’d been betrayed once again.

Your hands reach up to take Wanderer’s wrists gently, pulling him out of his stupor with your touch. As his eyes clear, he leans into the kiss you tilt your lips up for, letting you take the lead as he melts into you. It’s soft and sweet — a little reassurance in the way you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close even after you part.

“I’ll take any version you give me, though I prefer the usual Wanderer a little more.” You smile, earning a bemused huff.

“Because I’m already yours?” He guesses.

“Because you seem happier.” You correct. “Or at least, that’s what I assume, with your own fanclub at the Akademiya and all.”

“They’re ridiculous.” Wanderer says, gaze softening. “As are you.”

For loving him, he means. But that’s been an affliction you’ve had for a long time now, and you had no intention to stop.

“Maybe another kiss will knock some sense into me?”

“Hah. As if that’s worked before.”