#but i couldn’t not immortalise it

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

tiny little nose biff

[aquaticmercy]

Of Black Ink and White Lilies

Summary : Bucky wants to get a tattoo, so he asks you for advice.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) (written with tattooed!reader in mind.)

Warnings/tags : fluff. Tattoos. Angst if you really squint.

Requested by : myself!

Word count : 1.6k

Note : Not many of you on here know this, but I’m quite heavily tattooed! I have a sleeve and the top half of my chest is filled. My legs are quite full, too. My irl boyfriend also has tattoos, but he has significantly less than me, so he often asks me for advice on what to get next. This fic is inspired by him because he gives me Bucky vibes lol. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

○ buy me a ko-fi ○

Bucky Barnes had been through so much in his lifetime. Since witnessing the horrors of World War II, the brutality of mind control, and eventually finding his freedom in the 21st century, he was bound to have changed, grown, and healed more times than he would ever care to admit. For a while, he was convinced that he overstayed his welcome. Until he met you. 

When he met you, he felt more alive than he ever did. You gave him something he had not found in the modern world: meaning.

Which is why— for the past few weeks at least— he’d been glancing at your tattoos with more interest, more intent, than he usually did. He loved your tattoos, he always had. 

It was fascinating how you viewed your skin as a canvas of colors and lines. Every drop of ink that lived into your skin seemed to tell a part of your life, and he admired how you wore them proudly, loudly on display for the world to see. From the intricate patterns that wound up your beautiful body, to the shapes that danced along skin, every piece was personal, intimate, and a wonderful confirmation of the life you had lived.

And Bucky is now realising that he also wanted part of him immortalised in ink. 

One problem: he didn’t know where to start. Until very recently, he never considered getting a tattoo. Hell, back when he was young, tattoos were something most people didn’t have, and he was sure Steve would probably give him a raised eyebrow if he got it in the 40s. It was a taboo— only sailors and bikers, the ultra-macho type had them. 

It was something he had to unlearn while adapting to modern life. You definitely sped up the process for him. Seeing ink on such a lovely human being — who he thought was extremely easy on the eyes — made him think twice about his old-fashioned views on ink. 

Every time he glanced at you, sprawled out on the couch reading your latest favourite novel or cooking pancakes for breakfast in one of his oversized shirts with all your body art on display, he felt the urge—heard the little voice in his head that said maybe it was time he etched something permanent onto his own skin.

That evening, you did what you always do on a lazy day— you were both curled up on the couch, tangled in each others’ presence. You were just admiring your boyfriend’s features when you noticed his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, particularly focused on the ink winding up body. You were used to him admiring your tattoos. He often traced his fingers absentmindedly over them, but this felt a bit different.

"You're staring again, Barnes," you teased as you nudged him gently. He blinked, your words pulling from his deep thoughts. He gave you an almost shy smile.

"Sorry, doll," he said, his fingers tracing a line of ink. "M’ just thinking."

"About?" You asked, tilting your head inquisitively. 

He hesitated for a moment longer than he had meant to. When he finally spoke, his voice came out a little softer than usual. "Bout’ getting a tattoo,” he answered.

You raised your eyebrows, unable to hide your pleasant surprise. Bucky had never mentioned wanting a tattoo before. You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned closer. "Really?”

"Really,” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. His metal hand rested on your knee, rubbing your skin. “I mean… I think so. I’m not sure what to get."

You had to admit, the thought of him even thinking of getting one made your heartbeat a little quick. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Until now you weren’t sure that day would ever come. 

“Get something that means a lot to you,” your voice adorably squeaky with excitement. “Something personal."

“There’s a lot that means something to me,” Bucky considered it, “but I don’t know what would be right. You have all these beautiful pieces, and they seem to fit you perfectly. I don’t know what would do that for me.”

"It will fit if it feels right to you.” You placed your hand over his and squeezed gently, “I’m sure if you think about it, something’ll stand out."

Bucky was quiet for a moment, like he was deep in thought. You didn’t press him; this was something he had to decide for himself, and any form of pressure wouldn’t help. After all, you wanted it to mean as much to him as yours meant to you.

"You think I should go for something small to start?" His voice was thoughtful as bright blue eyes lifted up to meet yours.

"That’s up to you.” You said, putting your hand on his, “But that might be a good idea. You can always get bigger ones later."

"One step at a time, doll." Bucky found himself chuckling at the thought of getting more than one tattoo. 

You smiled. "Whatever you choose, I know it’ll be perfect." You leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

—

A week passed since that conversation, and Bucky hadn’t said a word about the tattoo. You figured he either wasn’t ready yet or maybe still hadn’t made up his mind. 

It wasn’t until one evening, on a particularly rainy day, that the topic even came up again.

You came home that day, finding him waiting patiently in the living room. He had a small, shy smile on his handsome face.

"Hey, sweetheart," you greeted, placing your bag onto an armchair.

Bucky stood there almost awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. He was shifting his weight slightly like a high schooler that was about to ask his high school crush to prom. 

He was brimming with anticipation, or nerves? 

“I did something," he said, his voice a little smaller than usual. He was so cute when he was nervous.

"And what might that be?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Not answering, he instead reached down and lifted the hem of his t-shirt. He revealed a newly inked tattoo on his left side, just above his ribs. Your breath hitched as you saw in the delicate black and gray flowers that now decorated his battle-hardened skin.

Lilies.

The same flowers he had brought you on your very first date. 

Your heart fluttered as wildly as a baby bluebird taking flight for the first time. Your mind flooded back with memories of that day. It had been a wonderful date, simple and extravagant at all. He took you to dinner and a quiet walk along the waterfront, where you ended up talking for hours.

That day, Bucky had shown up with a bouquet of white lilies, their sweet smell filling the air as you had greeted him, and it filled your apartment for the entire week, making you think of him every time you’re home. The scent had made you think of Bucky so much that he had given you a lily-scented perfume for your first anniversary— and you knew it wasn’t cheap to get.

On that first date, the flowers were such a small gesture, but one that had stayed with you all this time. 

"Bucky…" you breathed out a sigh. Your hand reached out instinctively to touch the tattoo, but you stopped yourself, knowing it was still fresh. 

He read your emotions like an open book as his lips tugged into a small smile. "I remembered how much you liked them. How happy you looked when I brought them to you that night.” He put a hand on your waist. “I wanted something that reminded me of you. Of us."

Your eyes misted over, swelling with joy as you studied the delicate design. 

The art was perfect— elegant, simple, yet brimming with memories. You could see the care that had gone into choosing the design. The thought he had behind it. 

Bucky wasn’t the type to do things lightly and this tattoo was a perfect example of that.

“I can’t believe you chose this." You said, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s smile softened, gazing at you with an admiration you recognized. He gently pulled you into his arms, careful not to press his side against you. "You told me to get something that mattered the most to me.”

You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes, caressing his cheek gently. You were overwhelmed by how sweet a man that had so much wrong done to him can be. "I love it. I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You pulled back slightly, wiping your eyes. "How was it?"

Bucky chuckled, “Kinda stings, but worth it."

It seemed silly to you, that a man who was so used to pain even thought of the ache of getting a tattoo, but then you realized this is possibly the first time he was willingly inflicting pain on himself, and it was to commemorate your relationship.

You stifled a sob at the realisation. "Careful babe,” You shook your head. “Next thing you know you’ll be getting full sleeves."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "You wish."

You pressed your lips to his, your heart full of fluttering content.

Bucky smiled against your lips. He may have been the Winter Soldier once, but now, he was simply Bucky— a man in love, with lilies inked into his skin to prove it.

“And maybe,” Bucky whispered quietly, already considering his next tattoo. “If you’re lucky.”

-end

[therealcocoshady]

Hi coco , I don’t know if your still doing requests if not juts by past this .

Fem reader x Marshall

Reader is some sort of celebrity and her and Marshall’s sex tape gets leaked

SECRETS OUT - ONE SHOT

Eminem x Celebrity Reader

Author’s note : Thank you so much for your request. I Hope you like it ❤️. I thoroughly enjoyed writing one shots and HCs so if you have requests, feel free to send them to me in my Ask.

Synopsis : You’re a prominent influencer, having a secret relationship with Em for years. None of you intend on making it public… until your sextape gets leaked.

When you started dating Marshall, the two of you had a serious talk about how important it was to him that your relationship remained private. He knew that you shared a lot of your life online - hell, it was kind of your job as an influencer - and respected it, but he was adamant about not being featured on your social media accounts and YouTube channel. You respected his wish. To be honest, you were a little relieved : your last relationship had ended because of public scrutiny and you didn’t want history to repeat itself. Especially since the person you were dating was a megastar. No offense to your ex, who was still a very successful influencer, but next to Marshall Mathers, he was chopped liver. If publicly dating someone with ten million YouTube followers was hard, you couldn’t imagine how it would be if everyone knew you were dating Eminem.

You actually did a good job at keeping your followers and his fans in the dark about your relationship. To everyone, the both of you were single and, even though they were rumours about the two of you dating other public figures, you had never been linked together. No one expected you, a twenty-something fashion and beauty influencer to date Eminem. From the looks of it, you didn’t have much in common and didn’t run in the same circles.

So your relationship flew under the radar for years and you even managed to get married without the public knowing. You had the most beautiful wedding, held in a secluded location with only your closest friends, with a lot of logistics and NDAs involved. Everyone joked that you had to be the only influencer who didn’t share the most important day of their life on social media. Especially when the wedding was so insta-worthy. A few years ago, you would have been a little bummed about it, but being with Marshall kept you grounded and reminded you that not everything was meant to be shared online. If anything, the secrecy of your wedding and the « no phones or camera allowed » rule allowed everyone to enjoy the moment instead of focusing on filming it or snapping pictures of their plates or outfit. That didn’t mean there were no pictures taken though. The only person who immortalised the wedding was the photographer and, though guests were sent the pictures, they were asked not to share, and everyone respected your wishes.

Just because the two of you didn’t share pictures online didn’t mean you didn’t take plenty. In fact, your phones were full of cute selfies of the two of you. At the beginning of your relationship, he often made fun of your habit to try and immortalise moments, but he ended up getting into it. When the two of you met, he was still using an old BlackBerry and took the crappiest selfies, but you managed to turn him into the perfect Instagram husband. In fact, he was the one who helped you do your daily outfit posts and he was more than decent at telling you how you should pose. And if he was a bit judgy of influencers at first, he had come to understand your line of work and your love of fashion. He was extremely supportive of every thing you did and his eyes were gleaming with adoration when he was watching you film your videos, though he still liked to tease you.

One evening, during your honeymoon, you found him filming himself in the mirror as you walked out of the bathroom in your finest, sluttiest lingerie.

- What are you doing ? You giggled.

- Immortalising the outfit. So, it’s simple, the boxers are Givenchy, fall collection… care to share yours ? He chuckled as he pointed the phone to you.

- So tonight, I’m wearing a gorgeous Dita Von Teese set, you said as you posed and played along. We have this gorgeous corset, and the panties are amazing, too…

- Turn around and show the back, babe, he instructed. You’re gorgeous.

This became a little game that you played during the whole honeymoon. Each night, Marshall filmed you in your lingerie, under the pretense that he wanted to remember your honeymoon as vividly as possible. This made you laugh and you let him. It started as « innocent » « outfit of the night » videos but, on occasion, you both felt frisky and ended up filming a literal sex tape, or rather a series of them. Nothing especially elaborate, just one of you holding the phone while doing the deed, just for laughs. You didn’t even watch them after or think about it. It was really just the two of you clowning around, making fun of your own IG account and enjoying your honeymoon. Once you got back home, you didn’t keep it going and eventually came to forget there were videos of you and Marshall having sex on his phone. Until the videos were leaked, that is.

You had been married for about six months and enjoyed your weekly brunch with Marshall’s daughters when they suddenly went silent, after Stevie showed her sisters something on her phone.

- Oh my God, I’m going to puke, Stevie said.

- Girls, no phone at the table, Marshall groaned.

- Have you guys… seen the news ? Hailie asked.

- What news ? You asked back, a tad confused.

- The Pistons headline, Alaina said.

- What’s wrong with the team ? Marshall asked with a raised eyebrow.

The girls frowned and stayed silent for a second before handing the phone to the two of you. There was an article about you and Marshall, soberly titled : « Detroit’s ultimate Piston : Eminem sextape leaked (featuring influencer Y/N ». The headline was enough to make you want to die. The article wasn’t much better. It commented on the videos and showed a few screenshots of tweets reacting to the leak such as « Bro can’t take a decent selfie but you can trust him to point the camera at his dick correctly 👀 » or « Damn. He’s 51 but Y/N’s the one who’s gonna need hip replacement surgery with these trusts 💀». You and Marshall stared at each other while the girls were looking at you. You felt humiliated. Not only were the videos leaked online, you were confronted by your step-daughters - though they were old enough to be your sisters - about it. You looked down, absolutely mortified.

- Don’t watch these, Marshall told his daughters.

- Like we’d want to see that, Stevie pointed out.

- Really, guys, a sextape ? Alaina asked. Dad, you’re 51 !

- I’m going to be sick, you said as you left the table and headed to your room.

You heard Marshall calling your name but there was absolutely no way you could face anyone right now. Once you were alone, you anxiously checked your phone. Of course, everyone was in a frenzy. Your manager was texting you and your social media accounts were flooded. Both in the comments and your DMs, people were going crazy and talking about the videos. You already had a huge following, but it was something else entirely. You immediately called your manager, who was beyond pissed. Apparently, some brands you collaborated threatened to sever their ties with you. Of course, you getting rammed on video didn’t really fit in with your usual good girl image and it wouldn’t be a good look for them. Now, not only were you ashamed but you were also terrified. You had worked too hard for your career to crumble that easily.

- What should I do ? You anxiously asked.

- For now, nothing, she said. I’m going to consult with a few people to see what we can do for damage control. Though if I were you I’d get ready to film an apology video.

- I didn’t do anything wrong, you pointed out. These videos were not meant to be shared.

- You know how it is, Y/N. I’ll get back to you ASAP.

- Thanks, you said sheepishly. Talk to you soon.

When you hung up, you couldn’t resist the temptation to go and check other articles. Obviously, news traveled fast and you were now a trending subject. Marshall being the more famous of the two of you, his name was on every headline but, from the looks of it, you were the one whose reputation was suffering the most. While everybody seemed to praise his performance - and impressive physique - you were deemed a slut by the Internet. Even worse, some people were already making memes with your face and some rappers beefing with Marshall were reposting them. You had always been a « glass half-full » type of person but you literally wanted to die. In a flash, it seemed like you could kiss your career and reputation goodbye.

After about an hour, Marshall joined you in the bedroom and took you in his arms while you were sobbing.

- Hey, he said sheepishly.

- I-I’m sorry, you said. But I can’t go and face your daughters. I just can’t. I can’t face anyone right now, I-I…

- It’s fine, he replied before kissing your forehead. I sent them home.

- Im sorry, you said. I know how much family brunch means to you…

- As it turns out, having your kids lecture you about your leaked sextape isn’t as fun as people make it out to be, he said sarcastically.

You couldn’t help but chortle. Even in this type of dramatic situations, you could always count on Marshall’s dry humor. He placed another kiss on your forehead and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

- We’ll be fine, he said reassuringly. Don’t worry, babe.

- Why aren’t you freaking out ? You asked. You should be freaking out.

- Oh, I’m freaking out, he said. I mean, I’m livid. But on a practical level, I know people will forget about it eventually, you know.

- Easy for you to say, you pointed out. The Internet is raving about the size of your dick and commenting about how in shape you are for an older dude… meanwhile, people are calling me a slut.

- You’re not a slut, he said as he rolled his eyes.

- Tell that to the thousand of people calling me a rapper groupie or whatever that is, you groaned.

- Doesn’t matter, he shrugged. We both know that’s not true. You’re not a groupie, you’re my wife.

- Well I’m about to be a stay at home wife, you said with tears in your eyes. I had my agent on the phone and sponsors are already breaking contracts… I-I’m losing everything, Marshall…

The tears started streaming down again. Mentioning the situation out loud was upsetting, it only meant it was real. You were really on the verge of losing everything. Your husband knew better than anyone how much your career meant to you, the work you put in and everything you had invested to be successful. To you, it wasn’t just a job : it was your dream. You had always tried your best to have a pristine reputation as an influencer and stay out of drama but now, people were looking down on you and calling you names. And you dreaded the perspective of doing an apology video. It was humiliating. In most recent years, you had focused your content on beauty and fashion instead of your private life but now, it was up for public consumption. Marshall held you tight as you told him about the comments you received and how sad you were about losing collaborations you were looking forward to.

- You don’t need these people’s money, he said.

- You know it’s not a matter of money, you replied curtly. It’s never only been about money. It’s more than that.

- I know, he said. But look, these videos were stolen from us. And if these brands who put that much effort into building a so-called relationship with you drop you easily, it’s not worth it. They should be sending you flowers and publicly supporting you.

- You know that’s not how it works, you sighed.

- All I’m saying is that it’s unfair, he said. And I’m sorry you’re going through this. But I know you. You’re strong and you’re resilient. And your followers love you. You’re not going to lose your career over this.

- I’ll do my best, you shrugged. My agency wants me to film an apology video.

- Are they serious ? He groaned. You don’t have to apologise for shit. These videos were fucking stolen, Y/N !!!

He was clearly mad. Funnily enough, he seemed more angry over the unfairness of the situation than the fact that everyone could see him having sex on video. But then again, it probably had something to do with his reputation being pretty intact. Sure, that would probably earn him a few lines in diss tracks people might be tempted to put out, but there wasn’t much to be ashamed of, as far as he was concerned. First of all, the videos clearly made a good job of shutting down rumours about his size, and he still came across as someone who had sex. On the other hand, you were more visible on the videos and earning a reputation of an easy and slutty influencer, hungry for fame. Typical double standard. You cursed whoever had managed to steal these videos. And deep down, you were mad that they had been so easily stolen.

- Why were they stolen in the first place ? You groaned.

- What ? He asked. You know how it is… people’s phones get hacked all the fucking time. Whoever did that was probably hoping to get their hands on new music. Joke’s on them, though. We only function with CDs to avoid this type of leaks.

- Joke’s on them ?! You almost yelled. The joke is on me !!! I couldn’t care less about your CDs. No offense but I’d rather have your album leaked than my career ruined, Marshall !!!

- Sorry, he said as he nervously scratched his beard. Poor choice of word. Of course it’s worse. What I mean is… hacks happen all the time. Every month there’s a new story about a celebrity’s phone or computer or cloud being hacked.

- And I’m usually over here, making fun about people who don’t know how to protect their data, you said as you rolled your eyes. The most basic thing to do is to at least put this type of photos in a folder that requires double authentication.

- Double what ?

He looked at you with big eyes. Of course, he had no idea what you were talking about. « That’s what you get for marrying a dummy when it comes to technology », you thought. You didn’t want to get mad at him, but you were pissed. You rolled your eyes at him and let your head fall on the pillow.

- I have to go and call Paul, he said. We’re both going to have to do damage control. But we’ll be fine, I promise you.

- Mmmmh, you groaned.

- I’ll do my best to find whoever did that and sue their ass, he assured you. And whoever shares these videos, too. When we got married, I swore I would protect you and you best believe I’m making good on that.

- Thanks, you said sheepishly.

The following couple of days were especially tough. News had obviously traveled fast and everyone in your life knew about the videos. You thought facing Hailie, Alaina and Stevie was hard, but FaceTiming with your parents was even harder. You could tell they were disappointed, and mostly worried for you. Both of your management teams were trying to find the best way to get through it. Unfortunately, crisis management wasn’t the same for a rapper as it was for an influencer. Marshall’s team advised him to stay silent while yours was almost begging you to address the elephant in the room, preferably with your husband, who was an ogre about it.

- I’m not appearing in your damn apology video, he groaned. It’s stupid enough that you have to do one of these.

- I have to do what’s best for my career, you pleaded.

- You always said these videos were disingenuous, he pointed out.

- Well, yes, but what am I going to do ? You groaned. Disappear and kiss my career goodbye ? And I’m not you, Marshall. I can’t just ignore it and go back to posting videos as if nothing happened.

He hummed and you kept talking about it, trying to come up with a solution. You weren’t thrilled about the idea of addressing the situation and he was right : you had nothing to apologise for. And he was fully against the idea of standing next to you like a First Lady while you filmed something so silly. Of course, it turned into an argument. There was only so much pressure you could take. And you knew Marshall was doing his best and keeping in touch with his lawyers, but you were mad that he wouldn’t support you publicly.

- I’m asking you to stand next to me for a damn video, that’s all, you sighed. I’m not asking for the moon, here. You don’t even have to say anything.

- Then what’s the point in me being here at all ? He shrugged. We agreed that I would be kept out of your content, Y/N. That was clear from the start.

- Because everyone thinks I’m a whore ! You yelled. I was fine with people not knowing about us, but I am not fine with people calling me a rapper whore. And I am not fine with my husband not supporting me. You said we were a team ! You promised to care for me and protect me for the rest of our lives. Or were these vows just words to you ?!?!

You knew he would be pissed off by your words. He had always made it clear that his vows were absolutely serious and solemn. And you knew for a fact that he had put a lot of heart and thought into writing them. He didn’t say anything, just sighed and left the room. Obviously, you both needed to take time off because this escalated into an argument. You groaned and stayed in the bedroom, which you had barely left since the videos had leaked.

A couple of hours later, you went downstairs and found Marshall watching some boxing match on TV.

- Hey, you said sheepishly.

- Hey, he simply said.

- Look, I’m sorry, I…, you began.

- Don’t sweat it, he shrugged as he gestured for you to come sit on his lap.

You sat on him and watched with him in silence, enjoying the sensation of his arms wrapped around your waist. When the match ended, he turned off TV and smiled at you.

- I took care of things, he said.

- You did ? You asked.

- I did, he confirmed. You don’t need to film that stupid video.

- What did you do ? You asked with a raised eyebrow.

He seemed pretty sure of himself, proud even, and you tried hard not to show it, but you were still a bit doubtful.

- Check Instagram, he simply said as he handed you your phone.

You nervously checked your account. You were tagged in thousands of new posts. Only these weren’t posts of the sex videos. Your account was flooded with pictures of your wedding, posted by your friends and reposted by tons of fan accounts. Your closest influencer friends had posted the beautiful pictures of them with you at the wedding. Marshall’s friends had done the same : 50, Dre, Porter, Royce… everyone was posting about your nuptials. The most beautiful shot was the one shared by Marshall on his account : a gorgeous black and white shot of the two of you after the reception, holding hands and staring at the fireworks, captioned : « For better & for worse. Happy 6 months anniversary. ». Everyone was going absolutely crazy in the comments, not failing to show their surprise and mentioning that he was now following one account : yours. You looked at him, almost crying and took him in your arms.

- Oh my God, you said. I can’t believe you did this.

- Called in a few favors and asked our friends to post the wedding pictures, he said with a smile. I figured the Internet would focus on these rather than the videos. So far it seems to be working…

- You didn’t have to, you said emotionally. I know you wanted to keep the wedding a secret.

- I also wanted to keep our sex life secret, he chuckled. But I care more about you and supporting you. Now, everyone knows I have your back. Until death do us part. And if anyone dares come for you, I will end them. I promise.

- I love you, you said emotionally.

- I love you too, he replied before kissing you. I’m sorry I was grumpy about the whole thing. You were right, these vows were never meant to be just words. I want to put them in action.

You kissed him passionately and you both took a minute to enjoy the posts everyone made about your wedding, reminiscing about that special day.

- I’m happy I don’t have to make that stupid apology video, you confessed.

- Me too, he chuckled. I did make an apology though.

- You did ? You asked in surprise.

He showed you his IG story. A black screen with simple text - in true influencer fashion : « I want to take a minute to apologize about the videos that have been leaked. I am sorry if anyone was confused. They were misleading and I want to state that the boxers were actually not Givenchy but Calvin Klein. Sorry for the confusion. 👀». You chortled and kissed him.

- What ? That was the only thing worth an apology, he pointed out with a smile.

- You’re such a troll, you said as you playfully rolled your eyes.

You spent the following days in bliss, showered with love from both your followers and his fans. Everyone was going crazy about your wedding and, even though there were still mentions of the sextape, most of the attention was focused on your relationship. Both of your management teams were also happy to put the incident behind them, though now they had to deal with plenty of interview requests. However, you agreed that even though your secret was out, nothing would really change. You slowly got back to business. Though nothing didn’t really change for Marshall - who was always in hermit mode in the studio - you had a lot of new followers and tons of collaboration requests. The sponsors who had been quick to drop you even came back and attempted to suck up to you, though you absolutely refused to work with them again. You were in your home office, reviewing partnership requests when you came across the biggest offer of your career : none other than Calvin Klein wanted you to be the new face of their underwear campaign, offering you a shit ton of money. It was the biggest opportunity you had ever received but you were a bit nervous when you mentioned it to your husband.

- What do you think ? You asked after you brought it up to him.

- I think we’ve established that you look good in underwear, he grinned.

- Yes but that would be banking on our sextape, our relationship… would it be ok with you ? You asked.

- I’ll cut you a deal : I’m ok with you doing that campaign if you’re ok with me using your moans as ad libs, he said with a smirk.

- You can’t be serious, you giggled as you rolled your eyes.

- What ? He chuckled. We’re partner in life, we might as well be business partners.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Jason Todd with an s/o who enjoys making art of him? Sketches, paintings, etc.

Jason never saw himself as ever being a muse for someone else’s art, their reason to immeditly rush to their sketch pads or canvas and let the ideas flow out and take form however that maybe.

It was a reality he had came to accept until you came along and happily challenged this view he had on himself, and without fail you’ve proven him wrong again and again on multiple occasions.

Finally he had became a muse to somebody and he couldn’t help but be touched and feel extremely loved and appreciated whenever you shown him a simple sketch of him doing something mundane, whether that be making dinner for you both or reading a book, you just had a way of showing him how you see him through your art.

‘It’s a simple sketch I made this morning, nothing fancy.’ You’d shrug as Jason looked over your drawings of him and smiled.

‘If this is what you call a simple sketch then I’m all out of luck in ever attempting to take up drawing, this is amazing sweetheart!’ He’d say as he peppered your face with sweet, thankful kisses before moving away to look at the drawing once more, taking note on how much attention to detail there was in what you claimed was a simple sketch.

You drew him with such love for everything that made him in his entirety. You took extra care in drawing his every scar that littered his body, big and small. From the largest scar running from his collarbones and down his entire upper body, to the various scars scattered on his neck, forearms, hands and back.

You didn’t try to hide his impurities and instead actively chose to emphasise them in a way that he never thought existed. You didn’t try to make him look palatable nor tried to draw/paint him in anyway that wasn’t true to his character and he loved it. He loved the fact that you saw him for who he was and found him worth spending hours upon hours of drawing for.

‘I’m sure you’ll pick it up jay bird, besides I like drawling you.’ You admit.

‘Why?’ He asks softly.

‘What?’

‘Why do you like drawing me? What is it about me that worth immortalising on a canvas or in the pages of a sketchbook?’ Jason says as he looks at other sketches/paintings you’ve done of him in your spare time and felt his heart grow bigger with each and every one he came across.

You even sketched him in that stupid bunny onesie that Dick got him after loosing a bet, much to his dismay and the rest of his family’s amusement. Once upon a time he would’ve been ashamed at that his most embarrassing moment had been sketched out onto paper, but now he just shrugs and laughs it off, finally finding it funny as everyone else did at the time.

‘Because everything about you is worth immortalising, whether it be as a sketch or as a painting, you -Jason Todd- are worth remembering well into the future.’ You tell him as you took the sketchbook out of his grasp and settled it aside to hold his face in your hands, smiling upon seeing him melt deeper into your touch. ‘I didn’t feel like portraying you in any way that wasn’t true to who you are, at least in my eyes.’ You add.

‘And what do I look like in your eyes?’ Jason speaks barely above a whisper as he looks at you with storm grey eyes, a stark difference to the bright cobalt blue of his youth.

‘Perfectly imperfect.’ You kiss his forehead. ‘A Human with a heart of pure gold despite everything you’ve been through.’ You press another kiss to his nose. ‘A true protector of Gotham who bares the scars to prove it every night.’ You finished praising him by place a soft kiss to his plush, slightly chapped lips and pressing your forehead against his. ‘You’re Jason Todd. My muse.’

[theaceofshovels]

There is something to be said about the connection between man and shark…

Couldn’t be me, making a joke about giving Izzy a Blahaj and then proceeding to think about whole au based on the emotional significance he puts on this stupid shark plush.

Bonus:

I decided he would go to great efforts to make the shark to different things and then ask Lucius to draw it in order to immortalise it. Lucius, while sceptical at first, eventually goes alone with this after realising what the shark means to him. The shark’s name is Eddie btw :)

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗹

paring: amy march x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, cute, kinda spicy towards the end but it mostly fluff and cuteness and amy kinda worshiping r, period piece, wlw established relationship

warning(s): hint of smut/spicy, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.1k

note: A little Amy March appreciation post. I just... I guess the Bridgerton hype is getting to me and with that comes the Amy hype back again. Hope you all enjoy this one, it's kinda based off of titanic (if you couldn't tell). I love you, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

“What are you doing?” you whispered right into her ear, causing Amy to jump on the spot a little. 

“Do not do that, Y/n,” she said, clutching her hand to her chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I apologise,” you said, chuckling as you kissed her temple. “What are you up to?”

“I’m just trying to find something to paint.”

“What are your options so far?”

“Well, this bowl of fruits,” she pointed to her left. “Or that one,” she pointed to her right.

“Again?” you asked, scoffing and raising your brow at her. 

“I guess I could paint that vessel with the yellow flowers, they are nice, aren’t they?” she said, lost in her thoughts.

“You know, the other day, Aunt March showed me some French painting…”

“Did she now?” she said, gathering her things to paint the flowers, only half listening to your words.

“Yes, they were quite… interesting,” you said, mischief filing your voice.

“How so?”

“Well… they were lovely women, beautiful really…”

“Yes?” Amy was paying attention to you, she was trying at least, but her brain chose to focus more on the flowers in front of her. 

“And they were… um… naked.”

Amy stood still for a second at your words, but then continued on as if it was nothing. Because in reality it wasn’t, the French had a thing for the human body, so what? It annoyed her, just a little, that you saw other women naked. But as long as her body was the only one you would touch, then she could do peace with it.

“They were fascinating, breathtaking even. Imagine being immortalised that beautifully.”

“Mmmh,” Amy agreed. 

“I would love for someone to do that for me…” you said, enough with the playing around and getting to the point.

And then you had Amy’s whole attention. “Are you saying that you would stand, naked, in front of a man, just so he could paint you? That you would gladly expose your body?” she said sternly.

“No! God, no,” you scoffed. “You would paint me.”

You smile as you watch her cheeks turning red. It was no surprise really, you had lost count of all the times you and Amy had seen the other naked, did things while at it. But despite Amy’s strong personality, deep down she was as shy as a baby deer.

She cleared her throat. “I think I have heard wrong, it was as if you wanted me to paint you—.”

“Like a French model,” you finished for her. “Yes, you heard correctly.”

“Naked?”

“Yes, that was the whole point of this conversation,” you chuckled, as you stepped closer to her and took away the paint brushes from her hands to warm them with your own. “I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Ames,” you peck the back of her hands. “I just thought… I was not really thinking, actually. You said you were looking for something to paint, and the pictures Aunt March showed me just came to my mind. But if you do not wish to—.”

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” she interumped you. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am,” you couldn’t hold back the smile forming on your lips.

“How do you want me then?”

“You remember the pictures, right? Just do as you please, but… um… naked,” she winked at you, turning around to find her paintings, a new canvas and her favourite paint brushes. 

You took the opportunity, as she wasn't looking, to undress yourself. As you peeled off piece by piece off your body, you felt the temperature in the room shift and realised it was a bit cold. But as you settled in your position and Amy finally looked at you, you felt your whole body burning with fire. 

“Is this okay?” you shyly asked. 

Her eyes trailed down your body, taking in every curve, your soft skin, your chest. She could even tell how hard and heavy your breathing had gotten, which caused a shiver to run down her spine. It was silly, really. She would wake up to your naked body as many mornings as she could, but seeing you in that perfect golden light, exposed for her eyes only, took her breath away.

“Perfect,” she managed to word out somehow. 

She took a deep breath, and let her mind thrift away, only one thought remained in her mind and that was you. She allowed herself to be taken away by her light brush strokes, she let herself capture the intensity in your eyes, the softness of your body, the sun kissing your skin. 

She was extremely immersed in the painting, that she felt as if it wasn't you who she was painting anymore. Sure, you were naked, the piece would tend to have some sexual appeal, but Amy felt as if she was painting something —someone— too pure to ever be turned into just a mere object of lust. She was sure she was painting the vivid image of an angel, and she couldn't believe that she had gotten so lucky to love and be loved by this angel.

“Almost done,” she muttered after what felt like ages, but really it was the fastest she had ever worked on a piece. There were still some more details to add, some lighting to be fixed, some shadows that looked odd. But she didn’t need you to keep on posing, to keep on being naked in the cold room. 

“Is it finished?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Not yet,” she chuckled. “I’ll keep on working on it later, I don’t need you to stand still.”

“I like being still if I have your eyes on me,” you grinned at her.

“I like it as well, but I can’t have you catching a cold,” she said, as she wrapped you around some warm coat she had lying around for the cold days.

“Thank you, for doing this,” you said, pecking her lips. 

“I have you to thank, my muse.”

“Oh, so now I am your muse,” you playfully scoffed, your arms snaking around her shoulder while hers found your waist.

“You always have been,” she muttered as she left a kiss in the corner of your jaw. “I just guess it’s now official,” she chuckled, her uneven breath sending chills up your spine.

“Is that so?” you giggled. “Then, please do tell me more about it,” you said, throwing your head back giving her access to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“I don’t feel like talking right now,” she bit your skin. 

“What do you feel like doing?” you were already breathless.

“Well…” she said as her hands drifted away to the belt securing your coat.

“Oh, I see,” you laugh, bringing her lips to yours. 

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[koji-haru]

Freckles

[Sorry it took so long, but here's the first part of your request @inubaki! I hope you don't mind that I mixed the two into one 🙇‍♀️

Think of this as an extra scene for the Time Travel AU]

It was yet another perfect day in the idyllic garden of Eden. It was just as perfect as Adam had remembered it more than 10,000 years ago. Warm sunny rays that gently kissed his skin, baby blue skies that livened up the atmosphere, a refreshing breeze that sang serenity throughout his entire being. Everything was just as he had always wanted back then, except with a new addition. An angel friend. No, not Lucifer, but his much more tolerable brother, Michael. 

Today, the two were sitting on top of a gentle hill, taking shade from the midday’s rays under the canopy of a large beech tree, its broad foliage a beautiful purple-copper shade. Michael had brought some materials for bringing images to life; canvases, papers, pencils and paint. It was after he had caught sight of Adam creating a sketch of a gigantic moose using charcoal and a thin piece of a tree’s bark. Apparently, Adam had some sort of talent for it, and wanting to hone, Michael had brought down materials for Adam to try.

So now, here he was, sitting across Michael, trying to capture the angel’s very image onto paper. Michael himself seemed to be rather busy gliding his paintbrush across the canvas; a harmony of blues, green, yellows and whites with a dash of purples and pinks, the image of a distant lake was slowly, but meticulously being immortalised onto the canvas. 

As opposed to Michael’s vibrant depiction of Eden, Adam himself had resorted to using coal, slowly etching the heavenly being’s likeness onto a simple piece of paper. Adam’s hand moved slowly and carefully as he gently curved the coal on the paper, using his thumb to shade and fade it out a little, as he tried to draw the angel’s wavy locks; trying to capture the way it shined under the sun, how gently it flowed, and the softness of its texture. Then, he shifted his focus on Michael’s face. The eternal youthfulness of his face, his cool blue eyes that currently held a certain kind of softness to it, and then small little stars that surrounded them. Huh. Adam never really paid much attention to Michael before, but now that he was really looking at him, those little stars actually looked a little like freckles on his face. It looked quite nice, really.

“Hey, Michael,” Adam suddenly called out. “Are those freckles?,” he asked, pointing to his face. 

Michael put down his brush and palette as he turned to Adam, distracted from his painting. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

“The little sparkles under and around your eyes,” Adam clarified, putting down his coal and paper as he leaned forward to press a finger across Michael’s cheeks. “Oh, they even shine a bit!,” Adam added, surprised, as he then fully grabbed the angel’s face and brushed some of his hair behind his ear, running a thumb across the sparkly stars across Michael’s face. 

Michael could feel his face heating up, a yellow flush gradually blossoming on his pale face as his calm heart began to drum loudly within his chest. What was Adam doing? Why was he suddenly so close to him holding his face like that? If he didn’t know any better, it was almost like…

“Pfft!,” Adam laughed. “What’s with that look? I won’t bite you. I’m just taking a more thorough look at your face,” he clarified, grabbing the paper off the grass and showing it to Michael.

It was a surprisingly detailed image of the angel. Capturing details about him from the most obvious to the most fine details. It was almost like looking in a mirror. He had noticed then that it was unfinished, a start of a scribble present on his image’s face, just under the eyes. 

“Oh,” Michael muttered, mainly to himself. He couldn’t help but keep staring at his portrait, the care and detail poured into it. The warmth from earlier came back, filling his heart, but this time more gently, like colourful butterflies playing in the meadow. It spilt from within him and out onto his face in the form of a soft smile, glistening eyes and a tinge of yellow spreading across his cheeks. 

“Hellooo?” Adam waved a hand in front of his face.

“They’re not freckles,” he finally said after a moment. “They’re markings on my face, similar to how Lucifer has his red cheeks.”

Adam leaned closer forward again, invading the flustered angel’s space. “Oh, so they are little gold stars,” he remarked. “They’re quite pretty huh,” he muttered, though Michael heard it, as he leaned back again and returned his focus back on his unfinished drawing. “Kinda like faintly glowing stars at dusk, hmm…,” he muttered some more as he scratched his head trying to plan how to depict that onto paper.

“I wonder if those are the only markings he has. His robes are pretty loose fitting…,” Adam murmured, letting his thoughts unintentionally flow out.

“T-those are my only markings..!,” Michael clarified as he pulled the collar of his robe higher up to hide his flustered face, suddenly feeling very exposed under Adam’s scrutinising gaze. Ironic, considering he wasn’t the naked one.

“Hmm, but you know I can’t really continue drawing you if you hide your face like that,” Adam commented nonchalantly. 

That…was a fair point. And so, while he didn’t really want to, Michael pulled his robe back down and away from his face. “Better?”

“Better, thanks!”

After a while, Michael’s nerves finally returned to their prior calm state as his focus returned to his unfinished painting. His skillful hands brought the sun’s shine onto the painted lake’s surface, glistening like a million jewels strewn all over the body of water, almost ringing like thousands of little bells. The colours evoked a sense of calm and peace that only Eden could ever have, a gentle lullaby and a sweet goodnight kiss. 

Minutes passed like this, with just the whispers of the leaves in the wind and the occasional singing of the birds between the two. Both absorbed by the image they were trying to immortalise. 

Finally, Adam sat straighter up, holding his paper up and a proud look adorning his face. “Done!”

“Oh, may I see it?,” Michael asked, curious at what the final product looked like, especially if it already looked amazing when it was unfinished.

“Here.” Adam handed the drawing to Michael, chest puffed out, hands on his waist and a very proud look on his face. 

If the portrait before amazed him, then this final product took Michael’s breath away. Somehow, Adam had not only captured his very image, but also heightened it. Just the picture itself emitted such ethereal aura that Michael himself wasn’t sure any angel in Heaven had. The feelings it evoked within him was…indescribable. Like something more than the perfection of either Heaven or Eden. Every line and detail, every shadow and shading, all were created and etched onto the paper with such fine delicacy.

“Oh, this is…just breathtaking,” Michael whispered. 

“I know, I know,” Adam grinned even wider, happy to have his ego stroked. 

He even put so much detail on my markings. Michael’s fingers ghosted over the markings on his portrait's face. He had never seen it depicted so beautifully before…

Adam glanced back over at Michael, eyeing the markings on his face. While he didn’t particularly pay too close of an attention to others appearances, he was pretty sure that not all angels, even Heavenborn ones, had some sort of face markings. 

“Maybe it’s a genetic thing…,” he mumbled. 

“Hm?” Michael turned to Adam, putting the portrait down.

 “I wonder if your kids would have the same marks under their eyes,” Adam asked. It would make sense, Lucifer’s brat, Charlie was it?, also had the same red cheeks as her father did. Honestly, Charlie was almost a carbon copy of Lucifer, barely any Lilith in her, well, except for the height obviously. 

Kids? Michael with kids?? Adam’s words put a certain image in Michael’s head. If, somehow, he had kids, what would they look like? Michael imagined them to, yes, have the same markings as he did, a skin as pale as his, oh, or maybe the other would have lovely sun kissed skin. They could have his light golden hair, maybe darker, teetering between brown and gold, and then maybe they could have the same eyes as him, but a lovely gold would also be nice.

…

Oh. 

Michael quickly looked away from Adam. He could feel that certain kind of warmth returning to his skin, dyeing his cheeks as golden as the Eden’s sun, though it definitely wasn’t because of the midday heat.

[randomyuu]

Yuuji bowl :D

Let’s have a go with All!Yuuji because why not :D

One day I found this fic titled everything i couldn’t save by lying_sun and it got me hooked. It’s not everyday I can find a good Yuuji bowl fic (mostly because I focused a bit too much on Goyuu but I digress)

Btw, is it Yuuji harem? Yuuji bowl??? What do you call a harem with Yuuji btw? I’m too lazy to do research on this topic—

Anyway! The time has come to shower Yuuji with more love. I really adore this fic. The deadly and powerful nature of Yuuji as Sukuna’s vessel, yet his ability and heart are that of a healer. It’s contrastingly beautiful. And it’s SFW! Fluff! Fluff! ✨Fluff! ✨ And of course, a bit of angst because why not :)

If you like a Healer!Yuuji as SaShiSu trio’s teacher, please give this fic a read!

This time, I have shorter thoughts so no Read More is needed :DD

What is the best way to include all Yuuji pairings in a fanart?

Stack them up of course! Squish them all into a small space!

Everytime I see Hidden Inventory Arc characters, it always feels like going back to the past. So the concept of immortalising this precious Yuuji bowl into a Polaroid photo feels fitting. And without me even realising it, the outcome feels… cheerful? A bit romcom-ish? Despite the amount of black clothes and hair, the vibe is really light. It feels weird as I usually draw in a rather sombre tone, but I found I like this kind of tone as well!

And also because Yuuji deserves all the love :”)

Ah, this fic is truly giving me “healer yuuji for the soul”. Beautiful.

As I drew this, the fic is almost finished, with the future last chapter being a Sukuna chapter! Since I was not sure what their dynamic would look like, I decided he would be a chibi (I was in the mood for a chibi and he’s my sacrificial lamb). It kind of indicates that he’s different. As in not having his own body and cannot hug Yuuji physically haha

Unless? 👀

Drawing them all was really fun! It was a bit tricky since I couldn’t find references for the pose so I just winging it with my available anatomy knowledge. Bless the college for having black uniforms. Helps a lot lol

Anyway, that’s it from me. I hope you enjoy the drawing, and also the fic if you ever decided to give it a read! I wish you all a pleasant weekend! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

[idontplaytrack]

City of dreams

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader(+ big sis Regina)

Warnings: some coarse language, fluff, mentions of sex

Read other parts here!

“Hehe, congrats.” Regina grinned.

You gasped dramatically, “You knew, didn’t you?!”

“Knew? I helped her plan it. The whole gang did.”

Janis propped her phone up on the coffee table, getting up to get a snack from the pantry. “Pita chips? Or pretzels?”

“Pita chips.” You answered, eyes staying focused on the phone screen. “How is it that I had zero clue?”

“Which was good, no? You were really surprised.” Regina added on.

“I was sobbing like a baby by the time she kneeled down in front of me. I’m just lucky no one else was there to take a photo of my ridiculous face at the moment.”

“Oh, there are still photos. Even a video, actually.” Janis informed you, “There is no way I didn’t want to immortalise that moment.”

You sigh, “Very well then.” You turned to look at Janis, squinting. Through the FaceTime call, Cady and Regina were laughing. “It was something worth capturing, honey.” Janis soothed, sitting down next to you again as she opened up the bag of cinnamon pita chips. Gretchen said you guys could help yourselves to anything, by the way

“How’ve you been?” You asked.

“Same. The same, nothing’s changed.” Regina replied, “Quit being so worried, alright? Everything is going perfectly fine.”

“Can’t help it.” You admitted.

“The doctor said so.” Cady quipped.

“It’s natural for me to worry. I just— but yeah, I hear you though.

“Enjoy the alone time.” Regina smirked.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes jokingly, “Don’t have to worry about that part.”

Regina’s eyes went wide for a moment, “Finally answering a little differently, are we?”

“Trust me, she’s not as shy as you think she is.” Janis remarked. You smacked her shoulder, “Hey!”

Janis giggled, “You love me.”

“Yes, I do.” You sulked.

“You’re so cute when you do that.” Janis snuck a kiss to your cheek.

“You guys are too cute.” Regina sighs.

“Oh?” Janis grins. “That’s good to know.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m used to this PDA, ‘Imi’ike.”

Janis scoffs, “Oh, look who’s talking.”

“Shut up.” Regina said with a laugh.

“You shut up.” Janis retorted, pulling you onto her lap. You huffed, “What—”

“You’re mineeee.” Janis jokingly threatened, chomping your shoulder.

You couldn’t help it but laugh, “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Janis rests her chin on your shoulder, bringing a pita chip to your lip. You took a bite and held the piece between your teeth. “So…how’s everything?”

“Uh, well. Everything’s fine with the baby but I’m not feeling too hot. Having to pee so much, my feet hurt, my back aches. Fun.”

“Regina.” Cady chided.

“Well, she asked me.” Regina shot the redhead a look.

“I did.” You said to Cady, “It’s fine. And I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable but.”

“Yeah, we’re getting closer.” She smiled at the thought. “How’s the trip going?”

“It’s noon and we’re still at home so…” Janis says, her voice trailing off.

“Okay, message received.” Regina snorted, “Glad you’re having some good sex.”

“Oh God.” Cady facepalmed.

“Wow, haven’t I heard that before.” The blonde lets out a breathy laugh. “This is a sex-positive house, Cady.”

“Mm, sure. Okay, so any fun plans today? Sex aside?” Cady interjected.

“We’re seeing a Broadway show tonight.” You beamed.

“That we are. The Lion King, maybe The Notebook tomorrow.” Janis chimed in.

“I want a bagel.” You glanced at Janis.

“Then we’ll go get you a bagel.” Janis booped your nose.

You giggled, “Janis.”

“Okay, I won’t keep you guys any longer. Go have fun.” Regina chortled, “Enjoy your bagel. I want pictures.”

“Okay, Reg.” You agreed, “Will send to the group.”

————

It was always nice for you and Janis to get to experience a little bit of life together, just the two of you. The Wiener family’s Chelsea townhouse was the dream residence for the both of you, if you guys were being completely honest. But of course, you and Janis were in a completely different tax bracket. You were no longer relying on your parents for money, and you haven’t been since junior year of high school. Though you’ve always just had Regina’s help with it even prior to that, so you were pretty fortunate. Being in this house just felt right, but it could never be a permanent thing. This wasn’t your house.

“What ya thinking about?” Janis asks, joining you at the bay window.

“Nothing much.” You sighed, chin resting on your palm as you sat cross legged and looking at the fall leaves outside. “Or at least trying not to think of anything much.”

“You can talk about it if you’re ready to.” She judged gently, “I’m all ears.”

“Well…Regina is right. What they’re going through now? That’s what our future’s gonna be like.” You began, “And I’m not sure if I’m ready for the heartbreak that is a failed IVF attempt, or worse— a miscarriage. That scares me half to death. Like— what if we do everything right but we still lose the baby?”

Janis just quietly listens, a hand on your back, letting her presence be known to you.

“That’s gonna fuck me up. So bad, and how will our bodies change? Our minds? Our lives? But…despite those questions it will also kill me to not have tried, to not be able to have a child of our own that…that’s an extension of our love. And I — I don’t know what to do, Jan. I’m scared, I don’t have a clear answer. I don’t want to make the wrong choice. But as terrible as it sounds, what if I regret my choice? What if I’m not a good mom?”

“We won’t know for sure what the aftermath of our decisions will be like. But what I do know for sure, is that…with you. No matter where life takes us, whether or not we have kids…it’ll still be the best life we can live. We did our best, and sometimes, some things maybe just aren’t for us in this lifetime.” Janis says after a few seconds, rubbing your back when you sniffled. “But that shouldn’t stop us from doing the best we can to fight for what we want. It’s hard, yes. But sometimes the hardest decisions are the biggest lessons. They teach us to be strong…or to be stronger because there’s still a lot in store for us.”

You just stayed silent, taking in a deep breath.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be an incredible mother.”

“No.” You disagreed, chuckling tearfully, “I’m still afraid I’d end up like my mother.”

“If you’re afraid, you’re aware. You won’t be like her. You, y/n…you’re your own person. You might not trust yourself in some moments, and that’s okay. We’re human. But, trust me. I see you everyday the way I see you. And I know you. So…believe me when I tell you that.”

You looked at her, still teary eyed but the crying had just begun. Pulling her into a hug, she kisses your cheek on the way. “We got this, okay? Promise. We’ll go through it all, together. Just like we are now, and just like we have been.”

You nodded firmly, drying your tears. But Janis pulls you right back in for a longer hug.

After you and Janis have arrived back in Chicago, you two were picked up by Cady. “Hi, sweetheart.” Cady hugged you first.

“Hey.” You gave her a smile.

“Hi, Janis.” Cady hugged her too.

“What’s up?” The brunette chuckles, “Good to be back.”

“I did not wanna leave.” You laughed at the thought as the three of you headed to the parking structure for the car.

“That’s true.” Janis confirmed.

“Well, it is very nice over there so, I get it.” Cady hummed, “Alrighty, get in the car and let’s go home.”

Regina was beyond thrilled to see you again after your two-week absence. “I’ve missed you too, Reg.” You were kind of stood frozen thanks to her sudden affection. Yeah, you still were not top used to this side of her yet.

“Hey, G.” Janis bit back a laugh, “How are ya?”

“Meh, you guys know how it’s been so I’m not gonna repeat it.” Regina answered.

“You have an appointment tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, I do. You actually remembered?”

“Of course.” You nodded swiftly.

“Anyway, how are you two doing with wedding planning? Started yet?” Regina asked.

“Not yet.” You sighed.

“Okay, did something happen…?” Regina squinted at you.

“No.” You quickly lied. You weren’t about to tell your pregnant sister about the breakdown you had over your own future and the possibility of wanting to be pregnant. Or not. You still didn’t know for sure. “I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna come with me, Jan?”

“Uh, sure!” The girl narrowed her eyes at you, slightly worried by your avoidance of that question from Regina. She knew your sister would definitely press you for answers. But she was more concerned about you.

While you were taking out a set of clothes from the wardrobe, you hear Janis walking up behind you. You know what was coming, and you did not want to talk about it again. You knew this was on you to work through. And you knew you had a great support system, but as always…some days will be harder than others. Well, the past couple of days have been ‘some days’. You’ve given your future a lot of thought, but the matter of starting a family was still a big question mark.

“Hey, deep breaths, honey.” She had a hand on your shoulder, “Everything’s okay. Listen to me— everything is okay. Just breathe.”

“I’m trying.” You sighed, “I’m trying. Why is it bothering me so much? Oh my God.”

She hugs you, “We’ll make it through just fine. Right now, just focus on your shower, put on your favourite playlist and get freshened up. Hm?”

You nodded firmly, determined to get out of this little ‘mood’. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She pecks your cheek, “And after you’re done, we’re gonna make some dinner together, yeah? Let’s do something.”

“Sounds good.” You agreed, giving her a kiss in return before you disappeared into the bathroom.

Janis exits the bedroom once she hears the tap being turned on, and the beat of your favourite song. “Is she okay?”

“She will be, don’t worry about that. She’s got it.”

“Make sure she goes to her therapy appointments.” Regina says with a nod.

“Always.” Janis answered seriously, “Alright— any requests for dinner?”

“Um, anything honestly is great when you cook.”

“Way to flatter me.” Janis bursts out laughing, “You wanna suggest a cuisine at least?”

“Please, you can make a salad taste good.” Regina scoffed, “Cook whatever you want. But if you insist, use only what we have in the fridge and pantry right now.”

“That works too,” Janis chuckles, walking towards the kitchen, “Let’s see what we end up with, eh?”

“Looking forward to it.” Regina smirked.

“Do you trust your sister in the kitchen?”

“What?” Regina looks at the brunette, bewildered, “Course I do.”

“Kidding.” Janis quickly chimed in. “Just saying…”

“She can cook together with you, alright? She’s perfectly capable of that.” Regina laughs, pulling a face at the Hawaiian. By the time Janis finished setting up everything, you were fresh out of the shower. “Hi, love.” Janis’ face lit up.

“Hey.” Your smile mirrored hers. “What are you cooking tonight?”

“G, how are you with salmon?” Asked Janis.

“I’m fine, I can eat it now.” Regina confirmed.

“Great!” Janis says, “and y/n, I know. No fish for you.”

You smiled, “Are we doing rice or something else?”

“Yeah, rice.” Janis nodded, “2 cups. That small one in the bag.”

“Okay.” You went ahead with that task while she got started on hers.

“Tofu or chicken, baby?” She asks.

You decided on the former, “Tofu.”

While you and Janis worked in the kitchen, your eyes wandered over to Cady and Regina on the couch. You watched them watching a movie together, cuddled up comfortably as Cady’s hand rested on Regina’s bump. Your heart melted, that was sweet. Janis soon saw what you were looking at, too. “I know.” Janis whispered, “Cute.”

Focusing on making dinner took your mind off of the worrying. Janis always knew what to do when you didn’t. “Thanks for…um making sure I don’t keep staying in that state of mind.”

“Always gonna be here for you.” She answered simply while seasoning the salmon fillets. Turning the stove on, she waited until the pan was warm enough before dropping some butter onto it. Eventually, the teriyaki sauce-seasoned meat was sizzling in the pan and if you were being completely honest? It smelled amazing, but you just did not dare to eat fish ever again after an incident.

Janis used an entirely different pan for your tofu, just to give you a peace of mind. She’s never made a big deal out of it, it came naturally to her to do this. You didn’t even think she was aware of why you refused to eat any sort of fish, but apparently she was. After dinner, Regina said good night to you all and headed to bed. Cady helped wash and dry the dishes, while you and Janis cleaned up the kitchen. It wasn’t long before you two were in your bedroom, laptop open with a notebook and some pens in your laps.

“Let’s start with dates…gather a few then slowly narrow them down?” Janis began.

“How about a summer wedding?”

“Lovely.”

“Actually, I have an idea for the date.”

“Yeah, shoot.” Janis nodded, looking at you attentively.

“June 26th? Honestly I thought of Stitch, you know experiment 626. But anyway.” You laughed, “‘Ohana means family. Stitch reminds me of that quote, and if we’re gonna go with a summer wedding. How’s Hawai’i?’

“That is adorable.”

“Sure.” You laughed it off, “But is it good? Like, actually, would a wedding there work out cost wise?”

“I don’t think it would cost much, or at all to do a wedding on the beach.” Janis assured, “I think this is it. This is perfect. Our family will be there. My mom, Keani…I didn’t think it’d be this easy, I guess this is what we were meant to choose. It just fell into our laps, you know? It wasn’t a hard decision.”

You agreed with a nod, noting that down on an open document on your laptop. “Also, for food and beverages, my aunts and uncles can help.”

“Please don’t tell me that they’re doing that for free. We need to pay them.”

“They’re gonna insist, but we’re gonna insist harder. Maybe work it out to a discount rate instead of completely FOC.” Janis says, “I know.”

“About the whole pr—”

“Baby, we already talked about this. One thing at a time. We still have a lot to look forward to first before we get ahead of ourselves. We can think about it, we can discuss it but we shouldn’t let it take over our minds.”

With your lips pursed, you gave her a nod, “Okay.”

“Whatever we decide, nothing will change between us. Okay? Nothing bad. It’s always going to be us versus the obstacles, not each other.”

You pondered over her words, heart rate slowing down and you let go of the corner of your shirt that you were grabbing onto. “Let’s lay down, go to bed for the night.” Janis pulls you closer. “Okay? It’s time for bed.”

“Yeah, okay.” You laid down.

And, that was the end of the conversation. For now. It will come up again, just much later, and when the time is right— when you were both ready. “Good night, ipo.”

You went to sleep with a smile on your face, calm too, “Good night.”

Feeling a kiss to the side of your head, you began to drift off to sleep while you both held each other.

Were you dreaming too big about wanting to start a family? Maybe, considering the costs and efforts you two had to put into it compared to say, a more traditional means. But you knew for sure that you’ll be fine no matter how things pan out. You had Janis, and you had the rest of your little family right next to you to get through this life together. It wasn’t impossible, you just had to work hard. But most importantly, you would be alright. And you were so proud of yourself for how far you’ve come. You never thought this would happen for you…

You were getting married, to the love of your life. And you couldn’t be any happier.

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

Cadina are welcoming the baby in the next chapter, then it’s time for the wedding in Hawai’i😙

[marigold-hills]

Dunes and Waters

PART 1 • NEXT PART

PART 2:

Here is the thing about living alone: the routines. Little patterns of behaviour, daily rituals. Like turning on the kettle for tea before going to brush your teeth. A cigarette smoked out the kitchen window while waiting for it to cool down. Cryptic crosswords in the morning paper.

Remus has been living by himself for six years, ever since his mum died and his dad decided he couldn’t live with the reminder, going off to travel the Scottish Highlands and never returning. And he likes it, Remus does; never mind if he’s in his tiny studio in London, his old university accommodation, or in this lovely hotel in Egypt. Being alone suits him.

This morning, his crossword is half (and incorrectly) completed. The water from the kettle emptied and not replaced. His cigarettes – of which he still had three, he’s certain – all gone.

Worst of all? Sirius Black, hair up in a knot held up with his wand, sprawled out onto Remus’ favourite windowsill smoking what must be his last cigarette.

He looks like a cover of an album. Framed by the morning sun. Velvet Underground would pay a fortune for a picture of him right now, dressed in a loose billowy shirt he’s procured from Merlin knows where, and nothing else but boxers. Andy Warhol would paint him like he painted Marilyn – obsessively, repeatedly. Immortalise how he flicks the cigarette, a bit of ash falling onto the windowsill. Runs a restless thumb down the line of his bottom lip. Hums to himself softly and Remus thinks I was right because even subdued like this, it truly is a voice to behold.  

“I didn’t know how you take your tea,” Black says in leu of greeting.

“With hot water, to start with.” The meaning (refill the damned kettle!) seems lost on him, as he goes back to watching the world outside the window.

Must be a strange thing, to be here. Yesterday, and for the last two months, he woke up in a tiny cell made even smaller by the range of the chain holding him down. The window too high up and too small to give sunlight or a view, and even if he’d managed to get up there, he’d only have seen the sunken walls surrounding the jail.

Remus refills the kettle (again) and turns it on (again).

“Might making me one too?”

And Remus is a polite person. His mother taught him to be. So he turns off the kettle. Adds enough water for another tea, and hopes that this time is the last time.

“I like it real sweet,” Sirius drawls, stretching his vowels like a cat after a sun nap. “Lots of sugar.”

“You can add your own.”

“So inhospitable. So cruel. I’m sick, you know?”

“Sick enough to smoke all my cigarettes. Did you take your potions at least?”

A sharp tiny smile, a break in the veneer. “Knew you wouldn’t mind, Professor. You look like a right standup guy. The kind that lends others his smokes and his tea.”

“Potions?” Remus doesn’t let the man derail him. It must be an insult, with the way Black says it, but the doctor asked him to keep an eye, and he promised.

Never mind that he really doesn’t want his work delayed if Black gets worse on account of his own stupidity. It’s too important. Too time-sensitive.

“Yes, yes. I’ve taken them. Scouts honour, Professor. Or should I call you Doctor, instead, hmm? I’m sure you have one of those as well.”

“A doctorate? No. Not yet.”

“Pity. Professor it is then.”

“Just Remus. Please.”

NEXT PART

NOTES:

So I’m not going with the prompts this month because they just REALLY didn’t fit this story, but should still have 500 word bits every day :)

im currently applying for jobs so can’t write as fast as I normally do (they all have tests! Or hackathons! So so long), but will keep updating hopefully as usual

i love love love cryptic crosswords. They’re confusing as hell and fry my brain in such a delightful way :):):)

how are we all surviving AO3 being down?

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[jackactuallywrites]

Drunk and Disorderly Chapter Four

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader

Warnings: mild cringe. MC is a cutie patootie and anxiety-monologues

Summary: You have to go and file the paperwork from last weeks incident, and wouldn’t you know it, you’re filing it with Ghost

Notes: Blame/Thank @xxven she doesn’t let me sleep 🦫💕

Word Count: 1,285

ao3 link

If there was anything you hated more than paperwork, it was paperwork when it had to be delivered and then also discussed all in one meeting. Considering the army was stereotyped as shoot-first idiots with rifles, there was an annoying amount of paperwork involved. Every bullet shot had to be made a note of, every single plaster and bandage; the bureaucracy was endless. That was bad enough, yet this set of paperwork had a delightfully painful twist in that it was a paper record of you breaking your nose in a training exercise. You would have liked to have buried that memory rather than immortalise it in official military documents, but it had been insisted upon, a paper trail for any future incidents.

You’d done your best to look absolutely pristine, not a crease out of place on your uniform, your boots polished until they shone, your collar starched until it could support a grown woman’s weight. At the very least, your meeting was with Ghost, as he had been the superior officer during the incident. Elle had suggested a great many things for you to do under and over his desk until you threatened to report her for inappropriate fraternisation, and you tried to shove the filth she’d implanted in your mind's eye aside as you approached Ghost’s office.

Standing outside, leaning against the wall, was his shadow and your momentarily romantic nemesis, Soap. He gave you an upward nod as a form of greeting as you neared, his eyes flicking down to the stack of paperwork in your hand. “That your incident report?” You flicked through the pages with your thumb, rocking back and forth on your heels, “Six pages for a broken nose. Bit excessive if you ask me. Ghost in his office?” Soap nodded, “Aye, but he’s in a foul mood.” “Not one for paperwork?” He looked you over suspiciously, though you couldn’t begin to imagine his reasons, “Something like that.” The door to Ghost’s office opened, and a chastised-looking soldier scurried out, avoiding both your gazes. Soap called out to Ghost, “Got another one, LT.” You could hear the beastly snarl in Ghost’s voice as he responded, “For fucks sake. Send ‘em in.”

You popped your head around the door to find Ghost sitting behind his desk, rubbing his temples through his mask. The mountain of paperwork beside him made yours look very much like a molehill, and you paused in the doorway awkwardly, “Hello.” You drew out the o’s for a reason you couldn’t quite explain, wanting to ease some of the tension before you added your paperwork to the pile. Ghost’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his eyes narrowing as he took you in, “Oh. It’s you.” You gave him a nervous smile, shifting your weight from foot to foot, “The one and only.” He sighed, gesturing for you to close the door behind you as he organised the paperwork in front of him and added it to the mountain.

Flashes of Elle’s words flickered in your mind as you pushed the door to a close, and you cursed her internally before you walked over to Ghost’s desk, hoping that he wouldn’t suddenly become a mind reader. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have that power, casually gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him, and you did, sinking down into the thinly cushioned chair. You promptly set the paperwork down on the desk, pushing it over to him, “I filled it out this morning.” Ghost reached over to take it from you, leafing through it and reading in silence you didn’t dare break.

When he’d finished reading, a little of the tension seemed to go out of Ghost’s shoulders, and he relaxed in his chair, interlocking his gloved fingers as he looked at you. “And that’s entirely accurate?” You nodded and then hesitated, “Yeah- I mean, I didn’t see whatever happened after I hit the floor, so I couldn’t write about that, so I guess it’s not entirely accurate because I couldn’t be omniscient-“ “Relax.” The idea of messing up the paperwork and having to redo it all was aggressively present in your mind, but you forced yourself to sit back in your chair, trying hard not to continue your monologuing. Ghost waved vaguely with his hand, “The paperwork doesn’t matter. What matters is you. Your health.” He gestured at your nose, “Any difficulty breathing? Any nosebleeds?” You thought on it, “I mean, other than the initial one, no.” He nodded and then leant forward, reaching out before he paused, “May I?” “Sure.”

Yet again, Ghost’s gloved fingers were on your face, his eyes scanning your nose for any sign of further damage as he held your jaw, his thumb resting on your cheek. “Any pain?” He questioned, and you gave a slight shake of your head, “Nope. It does click sometimes, though.” You could see his brows furrow underneath the edge of his mask, and you smiled, “Seriously, if I push it at all, blowing my nose or anything, it clicks. Annoying as shit. Medic says it’s normal, but it bugs me.” Ghost’s mask shifted as he let out a soft snort, perhaps smiling underneath the thick fabric. You grinned at him, and he withdrew his hand, looking back down at the paperwork, “You included that in here?” “Of course, sir. Spared no detail.” “I can tell.” “You’re not telling me you don’t like paperwork now after I put all that effort in?”

Yet again, Ghost leaned back in his chair, and this time, you could see the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, signalling he was certainly smiling underneath that balaclava. “I’ll treasure it.” “You better. Took me ages.” He grabbed one of the pens on his desk, flipping through to where it required his signature at the end, scrawling it on the dotted line. When it was done, he tossed the pen aside, sitting back in his chair, “Fuckin’ paperwork.” “You’re welcome for my contribution to Paperwork Mountain. Rich toffs will be trying to climb it any second now.” He shook his head, making a shooing motion with one hand, “Go on, get out of here.” Another glance at the mountain of paperwork shot a pang of sympathy through your heart as you paused in leaving, “You fancy coming out to the club this weekend? After all the paperwork, that is.”

Usually, a casual invite like that was responded to immediately, yet Ghost seemed to be taking his time with it, an imperceptible emotion clouding his eyes as he looked at you. “This weekend?” His words echoed your own as though he was puzzled by the question. “Well, yeah. The girls and I make a habit of going out every Friday, but Elle’s got plans with her new girlfriend and Kate’s gone up north to see her lot, so if you’re not busy or going out with anyone else-“ “I’ll be there.” He seemed to have a knack for cutting you off before you could truly fall into a monologue, and you bit back your words, giving him a nod, “Alright then! I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” He nodded again, “Look forward to it. Close the door behind you.”

With that, you were dismissed, and you left your paperwork with him, pulling the door shut behind you as instructed. Soap was still loitering in the hallway, and he looked at you curiously. “LT’s taken a shine to you.” You chose not to question the meaning of his words, giving him an awkward smile and a deferential ‘sir’ as you made a swift exit, needing nothing more than to talk to Elle and Kate as soon as possible.

[dudeandduchess]

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Needy (Modern!AU, Slight NSFW)

Warnings: Making out, mentions of choking

Note: I kept remembering him, so I immortalised a memory into literary prose; like I always do to cope. 😂

For most people, going one round would have been enough. Most would have been happy with getting three orgasms in one round of sex, but not (Y/n).

With how amazingly breathtaking her lover was in bed, she knew that she wanted more. But— unfortunately for her— her lover was already tired, and getting ready to turn in for the night; i.e. getting up to put his shorts on, so he could go back to his own apartment down the hall.

“One more kiss, please,” came (Y/n)’s soft plea, all while a small pout that bordered on a smile played at her lips. For added effect, she even held her arms out— miming an effort to reach out for Kyōjurō— while wiggling her fingers.

The mere sight of her looking so adorable like that wasn’t lost on Kyōjurō. He was extremely tired— enough for his eyes to be half lidded with sleep at that point— yet he couldn’t find it in himself to turn (Y/n) down.

After all, she was only asking for a kiss.

So, he gave in and gave her a peck. However, just as he was about to pull away, (Y/n) cupped his face in her hands and nipped at his bottom lip. It was definitely a prelude to something more, which was further evidenced by her quiet giggle against his lips.

In the blink of an eye, what started out as a simple kiss turned into a heated make out session; with (Y/n) holding Kyōjurō in place as she snaked her tongue inside his pliant mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so needy tonight,” Kyōjurō managed to breathe out, despite the fact that his lips and tongue were pretty preoccupied.

That, however, was not a complaint. Far from it, really; especially as he felt his cock instantly get hard within the confines of his shorts.

He was definitely knackered, but he wasn’t turning (Y/n) down. Not that she was even letting him pull away from her.

So, with a low grunt, he put his hands on either side of her torso and gently nudged her away from his body. And once she did follow his silent request for some space, he gave her a look that bordered between mirth and disbelief; one eyebrow quirked, while his lips tugged up at the corners in a somewhat smug smirk.

“Look at what you’ve done to me,” and with that, the blond took his hands off of his lover so he could slip his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pull it down. 

Immediately, his hard and thick cock sprung up— hitting his stomach lightly. It was such a sight to behold that it had (Y/n)’s mouth watering, all while her pussy got even wetter— which was quite a feat, since his cum was still dripping out of her; coating her pussy and the insides of her thighs shamelessly.

“One more round, please, Kyō?” (Y/n) asked as sweetly as she could, even batting her eyes at her lover while she smiled at him. 

To her surprise, the young man took a different approach from his earlier soft and sensual demeanour. This time, he slowly brought his right hand up to her neck, framing it perfectly, before pushing her back down onto the bed.

“Alright. One more.”

It, as a matter of fact, was just one more round— but with (Y/n) getting orgasm after orgasm until her legs were shaking.

[hellverse]

wrote a little thing (emphasis on little) about dean trying to provoke cas and cas being, well, a little slow about it. check it out on ao3 or below the cut if you wanna, xo

Dean was bored. So. Very. Bored. He was convinced that if there was anything left to learn, they would have learnt it by now. Sam had already clocked himself out about an hour or so ago, which in his mind, served as a pretty good sign that they could be done for the night. They could just continue this tomorrow. Or later. Or simply at any other time but now. Because right now, Dean just wanted to drag Cas to their bedroom, and certainly not for sleeping purposes. It wasn't like he was touch starved, the two of them spent plenty of time passing up on some good night sleeps, trading them for early morning coffees and midday naps. But sometimes, Cas would get into one of those stubborn, help-the-world moods, where nothing else seemed to register. One could call it dedication, Dean, however, liked to think of it as the evil reverse viagra he had to defeat. 

And of course, as Dean’s luck would have it, they had been stuck in a bit of a loop recently. Although he was pretty sure Sam could handle it on his own, if he wanted, or passed it on to someone else, he and Cas were insistent on helping. At the end of the day, Dean knew he would’ve made the same decision, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He felt somewhat normal for the first time in, well, a while, and wanted to stay in their little bubble just a little longer. Sue him. But...duty calls. 

Dean was sitting with his legs stretched, crossed at the ankles, staring at the ceiling, when he turned his head to take a peek at Cas. The angel was burning holes into some book, concentrating at such a level he almost looked like a statue - an immortalised bookworm. Cute. Hot, even. There was something about the way his face looked, how serious he was, how his brows were just a little furrowed, and how the line between them was starting to show itself. It certainly reminded me of Dean of something. 

“Cas," no answer, "Cas!” 

The angel lifted his head in Dean’s direction, keeping his eyes on the book for five seconds longer before eventually looking at him. Cas smiled, something small and sweet dancing at the corners of his mouth. It was making Dean even more antsy, just thinking about how different his smile could be if he were to just- 

“Did you want something?” Cas interrupted before he could even finish his thought. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I did. Um, are you gonna be, uh, done soon?” 

"You can go to bed if you're tired, Dean, I don't mind staying here on my own," he said almost matter-of-factly. 

If only that were the issue , Dean thought to himself. Admittedly, he could just tell Cas what he wants, it's not like the angel couldn't return to this later, after all, he's not the one who needs sleep. The issue, however, would be that Dean wouldn’t want him to leave. He never does. And although they haven’t ever discussed it, he has a feeling that Cas doesn’t like it either. Call it a hunch. 

As much as Dean couldn’t focus on the research, he also knew, believed really, that he had enough brain power left in him to come up with a plan. Okay, maybe less plan, more technique of how to turn Cas away from reading and more to, well, him. 

While the wheels were turning in his head, he must've been staring at Cas pretty intensely, as his blue eyes suddenly left the page again, locking with Dean's own. He could see the other glance down for just a second, where his thumb was resting on his lower lip, before speaking. 

"Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm wonderful," Dean quickly answered, smiling, purposefully dragging the thumb across his lip. 

Cas stared at him for a second, wheels of his own probably spinning in that pretty head of his. Eventually, however, much to Dean's dislike, he turned back to the book. 

The thing about Cas was that he could be a little...unaware sometimes. Especially when his mind was focused on something else. And what is there for Dean to do, if not have a little fun with it? He wasn't opposed to some light teasing, provoking, especially when he could watch Cas slowly get the point of what Dean was suggesting, watch the little light bulb go off behind his eyes. 

Even with the anticipation buzzing all the way down to his fingertips, Dean wanted to make sure he would see this through. It was already past midnight, but he was sure coffee could only do some good, considering the plans he had. And besides, Cas could have some too. Not that he needed it, of course, but it had become something of a habit for the angel. 

"I'm gonna go fetch some coffee, do you want some, sweetheart?" Dean let his voice go sweet, putting a certain weight behind the pet name. They weren't exactly big on those, but when the moment calls...

Cas stared at him again, head slightly titled. Dean couldn't quite tell if he was getting suspicious or just a little ticked off by all the interruptions. 

"Sure, I'll take some if you're going."

Dean beamed at him, as he got up from his chair. Before going to the kitchen, however, he decided to see exactly what Cas was reading. And by 'see', he really meant lean down and pretend like he had a reason as to why he's gone over to Cas' side of the table before getting the coffee. Dean positioned himself on the left of the angel, resting the palm of his hand on the table, and putting the other hand on Cas' back, lightly drawing circles on the skin with his middle finger, right above where his shirt that Cas was wearing began. 

"Which book is this?" Dean asked, slightly turning his head in Cas' direction, but not looking at him. 

"The, um, it's about-"

"No," he chuckled, "I mean the number, how many have you read?" 

"Oh," Cas smiled, "I think this must be my fifth if I'm remembering correctly."

"Ah, well, haven't you just been such a hard worker today?" he placed a quick kiss on Cas' temple, before finally making his way to the kitchen. 

"Such hard work should be followed by a good reward," Dean whispered to himself. 

When he returned with the two coffees, Cas was still in the same position. Figures. He shuffled towards him, placing both of the mugs closer to the middle of the table, so as not to disturb the books placed in a half circle around the angel. 

"Hey," Dean muttered quietly, letting Cas know he was back, just in case he was too focused and didn't hear him come back. 

"Hi, Dean, thank you," he smiled.

It was moments like these, where it was just the two of them, the world quiet and calm like a field covered in snow, no wind and no footsteps, that convinced Dean he would never not feel the way he does now. Even before the confessions and first kisses, there was something about the way Cas would smile at him. It always went hand in hand with a pinch between his ribs, somewhat painful and warm. He kind of expected it to change, now that he knew the other felt the same, now that he had stopped telling himself it would never happen, now that the two of them were different. And yet it hadn't, not really. It knocks something in him loose every time, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad. 

Cas put his book down, interrupting Dean's thoughts once again, presumably to take a sip of his coffee, and Dean simply couldn't pass up that chance. He leant down, gently placing his hands on either side of the angel's face, and kissed him. The immediate jolt at the base of his spine served as a great reminder of what he was after. Cas kissed him back with no hesitation, something lazy and content in the way his lips were moving against Dean's own. That alone was enough for him to rethink his ways, thoughts of just grabbing Cas by the hand and dragging him to their bedroom flooding his mind. But again, where was the fun in that? More than anything, he was craving to see that light bulb moment, when Cas' eyes turned a darker shade of blue, knowing that the buzz in their stomachs and fingers matched each others. 

Dean decided to stay set in his ways, but that didn't mean his self-control was intact. He deepened the kiss, urgency colouring his own quiet sounds, tongue brushing against Cas' lower lip. He could feel one of the angel's hands, the one resting on his waist, softly grabbing at his shirt. 

He ended the kiss with a sharp inhale, eyes closed for a second longer, til the ground beneath his feet felt solid again. 

"Dean.." the rasp in Cas' voice almost made Dean lose his footing again. A beat of silence covered the room, letting Dean focus on the pulsating feeling in his cheeks. 

"What was that for?" Cas looked serious but only in a confused, have-I-missed-something kind of way. It took Dean everything he had not to jump him again. Instead, he just flashed a quick grin at Cas and winked. 

"Nothin', blue eyes, 's just because," he said, giving Cas one last peck on the lips.

He could feel Cas' eyes follow him, as he walked back to his side of the table, right across from Cas. When he looked up, he could see the slight twitch in the angel's eyebrow. For a celestial being, especially one that has seen a lot of what the world has to offer, he really couldn't be any more oblivious sometimes. 

Dean sat back in his chair, the warm coffee cup in his hands matching the warmth in the pit of his stomach. Cas was back to reading again, though Dean could tell he was a little more fidgety than before. He smiled to himself, as he lifted the cup to his lips. He could pretend he was reading, but even that seemed like too much work. After all, he was more than happy to just watch Cas. With the angel already slightly on edge, it was only a matter of time before he was glancing up at Dean every few minutes. 

"Dean...," Cas finally broke after about 30 minutes.

"What?" Dean answered, playing it up just a little bit to sound offended. 

"Why are you staring?"

"Can I not look at my very handsome boyfriend?" he smiled. If there was a gun to his head, he'd have to admit he even fluttered his eyelashes a little.  

The term 'boyfriend', similar to pet names, wasn't something that the pair used very often, but sometimes, well, there was just no way getting past it. Dean didn't necessarily mind the word, just needed some time to get used to it, he thought. 

He could see the slight blush forming in Cas' cheeks. The angel lowered his head, about to return to his task, before looking back up at Dean through his eyebrows for a split second. A look nearly bordering on 'knock it off', but not quite. 

The glances continued, almost like Cas was trying to catch him in the act, like something he did would give away whatever it was that he was thinking. Dean, of course, only saw that as an opportunity to continue his little show. 

By this point he had already finished his coffee, the ring finger of his right hand sliding in circles around the rim of the cup. It wasn't exactly a conscious action, not until he saw Cas glance at his hand. After that, he made it a point to look Cas up and down the next time his eyes wandered back to Dean. The angel only squinted at him.

He had noticed Cas finish off his own coffee not too long ago, so after a few minutes of pretend daydreaming, he got up, hand under his shirt, the palm of his hand resting on his ribs. This time around it wasn't so unintentional, his shirt pulling up slightly, exposing the skin. If Cas could burn holes in him, he was sure he'd be all burnt up by now. But who was he to complain? 

He slowly made his way to the kitchen for a second time, washing up the cups, and sorting out a few other things while he was there. It was nearing 4 am, and as entertaining as it had been, Dean was ready to actually get things going. 

He walked back into the library with a purpose, heading straight to Cas. The angel didn't even have time to blink before Dean was already in front of him, arm stretched out as if he was asking him to dance. Cas put his hand in Dean's, suspicion in his eyes almost completely masked by the gentle amusement. 

Dean barely waited for him to get on his feet before grabbing Cas by the waist with one hand and dragging him closer. Cas just smiled, head tilted to the left ever so slightly.  Good , Dean thought,  better access . 

"I think you should be done now," Dean muttered before scattering light kisses on Cas' neck. 

"Oh, should I?" the angel said, amusement now clear in his voice, Dean humming against his neck.

Dean lifted his head only to give Cas a look that in his head couldn't have looked anything short of hungry. That must've finally filled the missing gap in the angel's mind, as Cas' face finally mirrored the expression that Dean had been thinking about for hours now. The split second of surprise bled into understanding, and his eyes darkened. Maybe it wasn't so much a light bulb going off, as it was a light bulb exploding.

"Oh," Cas whispered.

"Oh," Dean echoed, teasing, whilst it was still his turn. 

"I think you might be right," Cas said, as he stepped forward, hand resting on Dean's chest, softly pushing him back, "I've done enough work for today."

Dean let the angel guide him until he felt his back hit the pillar, the coldness of it seeping through his shirt, a nice distraction from the heat of his own body. Though that didn't last long, as Cas pressed against him, hands sneaking under his shirt, much like Dean himself had done earlier. Cas slid his hand up and down Dean's sides, his fingertips occasionally sinking into Dean's skin. 

He launched forward, only to have Cas swiftly pull back like he was already expecting it. As soon as Dean let his head fall back, resting against the pillar, Cas leaned closer to him again, lips almost touching and whispered:

"I understand you've had your fun, but what about me?" voice sweet, smiling, moving further back and then closer again in waves. 

"Cas..." Dean breathed just as quietly, his throat dry, "Cas, once we get to the bedroom you can have all the fun you want."

"Oh," Cas immediately pulled back, "well, if you say so, Dean." 

As soon as the sentence left Cas' lips, Dean knew. He knew that Cas wouldn't let up until Dean was bordering on incoherent, and, oh, he just couldn't wait. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Welt, Dan Heng, Sunday, Gepard, and Argenti finding their s/o's poetry collection of them?

Argenti:

Would sit himself down somewhere nearby and read every last poem, each one leaving him with a full heart, butterflies in his stomach and another addition to the list of reasons why he adored your creative soul.

He’s extremely honoured that you decided to chose him as your muse for your poems, for he could feel the love and respect you have for him through your writing, before holding the collections of poetry made in his name against his chest as he beamed with happiness.

He’d even openly praise you for your works if he were to see you later on in the day, which would make you understandably upset and embarrassed that he went through your things, but with the way that he passionately talked about your writing and the look upon his face that clearly shown his appreciation and admiration for poetry.

At the end you’re the one who ends up being flustered whilst Argenti was still sending appraisal after appraisal your way, all the while re-reading your works and proudly reciting his favourite passages without shame.

Sunday:

He thought it was sweet that you write poetry about him.

He didn’t feel as though he was invading your privacy at all, seeing as how he’d like to claim that whatever of yours was now also his by osmosis…totally not because he’s fishing for stuff to hold over you and maintain control should you act out…

Anyway- he’s taking his sweet time reading each and every poem you’ve written with him in mind and smiling at the hold he’s taken within your heart, finding it fascinating what adoration could make one do just to express their whole array of emotions.

It was almost as though they were on some timer that others couldn’t see just to express all their innermost feelings towards the special person in their life. Then again love tended to make people feel as though they were invincible, so the unthinkable and accomplish things that they never thought that they were capable of achieving in the first place.

So it didn’t matter whether or not you were able to wax poetry before him, but it was obvious to Sunday that the moment he had taken hold of your life and your every thought, poetry has became your primary outlet for feelings that you weren’t nearly brave enough to say aloud to him. Rest assured however for that day will come for you to open up about those unspoken feelings of yours…sooner or later.

Gepard:

He feels as though he was invading your privacy by reading your poetry collection and wanted to leave before he’d inevitably get caught, but just as he was about to take his leave, he stopped when the title of the first poem caught his eye;

Everlasting winter

He found himself reading through the first few opening sentences and immeditly made connections between himself and the person within your poem. To say it didn’t take long for Gepard to realises that the similarities between him and the person in your poem were purely intentional, and that he was the one the poem was actual about.

His face was blossoming red upon the realisation and averted his eyes elsewhere as he takes in the fact that you found him a perfect enough muse for your poetry. Him, the man who couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, grows flowers that unfortunately don’t last long, and wasn’t possessed with the basic skills of drawing.

And yet you found something about him that was worth writing poem after poem about. He didn’t know why that was but he was appreciative that you found something in him that urged you into written it down on paper, where your affection and admiration for him would be forever immortalised…He also may or may not have taken a poem to read to himself later on at night.

Dan heng:

He had noticed that you left a piece of paper laying about one day and was about to call out to you and give it back, while scolding you for leaving your messes everywhere for him to pick up after, only to see that it was in fact a poem about him.

Red faced, Dan Heng still planned on taking the poem back to you and journeyed to your room where he found that the door was left ajar, but could immeditly tell that your room was empty. Sighing, Dan Heng opened the door and quickly made his way towards your desk, where’d he found more poems in regards to him.

Much like Gepard, Dan Heng felt as though he was reading something he shouldn’t but he found himself unable to look away as he was secretly tempted to know how you viewed him. What he found was nothing short of you portraying him in a way that he’s never quite thought of himself before. If he wasn’t already so easily made flustered by your words alone, your writing was enough to put the poor man into a catatonic state.

Dan Heng wasn’t use to being smothered in a love like yours. Where you felt as though speaking your love for him wasn’t nearly enough, so you had to expand and start writing it instead in the form of poetry. He doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of it but isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and is more then willing to try to accept the fact that you care deeply for him; especially when he can not find it within him to find anything about him remotely worth being with.

Welt:

He’s made copious amounts of drawings of you that he’s kept hidden in his room. So upon coming across your poetry collection about him, it only made him feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one to express his innermost feelings through an art form.

Besides it wasn’t like he was actively searching your room for your poetry collection, he really wasn’t as he just came across them out of pure coincidence. He was currently about four poetries deep and was finding it extremely endearing how you viewed him in most of your writing: which was mainly as an well educated, wise man with a young man’s heart and restlessness sense for adventure, who had a talent for drawing.

Welt would chuckle under his breath at all the moments you’ve shared together, before you’d then went on to write about how beautiful he was in every possible way. From his sweet, insightful eyes that seemingly held all the knowledge you could ever ask for, to his calming, velvety voice that could lull you into a deep sleep within seconds.

You posed him as this figure of comfort, a figure of warmth and Welt soon finding himself not so subtly sneaking some of your poetry into his pocket to read for later. Your poetry only gives Welt the confidence he been looking for, as he would then starts to leave his drawings of you in places where you’d be able to see them; all in hopes that you would know that you had just as much of a huge place in his heart as he did in yours.

[cacoetheswriting]

Hello! I hope all is well. I had a fluffy request if that’s ok? Eddie x fem!reader where reader is an art nerd that likes to draw for their campaigns. One day, they’re hanging out preparing for the campaign and maybe Eddie had a run in with Jason earlier and was feeling a little down that day so then reader just starts aggressivley complimenting him out if nowhere. I really love your work! ❤️

thank youuu for this request & for your sweet words, makes my heart happy that you like my little fics ❤️ hope i did your vision justice!

-

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.6k content warnings: adult language, use of pet names, a little mutual pining, insecurities / self-doubt, mentions of bullying, mainly just fluff - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Your friendship with Eddie was an odd one — if you could even call it that. More colleagues than friends, to be honest. Or better yet, acquaintances by association.

Freaks. Geeks. Social outcasts.

There was however, one big difference.

Your status at Hawkins High was by design. A strategic decision you put into play long before you even stepped through the building doors. Growing up in a busy house with a younger brother too loud for his own good, solitude was your best friend. Art was your escape. Often you only found time for both at school. So no, you didn’t wanna socialise or try out for the cheerleading team. You were quite content being left alone.

Being neighbours with Nancy Wheeler, and your younger brothers being practically attached at the hip, helped with staying invisible ‘cause who’s gonna bully the girl that sometimes hung out with Nancy and King Steve.

Eddie unfortunately was not as lucky. His label wasn’t his choice — not at first anyway. It followed him through the years from an age arguably too young. No kid deserved to be treated the way he was simply ‘cause of how/where he was brought up. The curly-haired boy couldn’t escape the names, the teasing, the dirty looks. He couldn’t change his fate. So eventually he stopped trying. The Freak.

And perhaps that’s why he’s never fully warmed up to you. You were a fraud, not actually understanding what it’s like to be an outcast.

But it’s not like you cared what Eddie Munson thought of you or if the metalhead liked you in any way. Hanging around him was simply a means to an end. He needed someone to immortalise his D&D campaigns and you needed continuous inspiration as well as material for your portfolio.

Most of your meet-ups were surrounded by quiet.

Thinking back, that was the first mistake since it was in that congenial silence, you noticed how he sucked his lip between his teeth whenever he was deep in thought, and how he’d scrunch his brows together if what he came up with didn’t quite make sense. He was undoubtedly pretty. The faded freckles on his face are reminiscent of a million stars. The dips in his cheeks, appearing whenever he smiled, comparable to picturesque valleys. Those big brown of his eyes were like chocolate buttons and the more time you spent together, the more you thought you caught him glancing in your direction with that cocoa gaze, but that would be insane. Right?

It was also in those moments, as you drew the monsters he described in grave detail, you got to see the Eddie he so desperately tried to hide away from the rest of the world. The real Eddie. He was ridiculously smart. Not many people in Hawkins, if any at all aside from your silly little brother with his band of friends, could come up with such intricate ideas. Funny too, making you snort a laugh one too many times with practically zero effort. And he was kind. Asking you how your day was, seeming genuinely interested in your answer.

The small talk was kept to a minimum in the hours you two spent working on the campaigns, but whenever you did have a short conversation, Eddie always made sure his attention was focused solely on you. The second mistake was letting him, because being his priority, if only in the moment, made your stomach flutter.

But today Eddie hasn't uttered a single word aside from a measly hello when you opened your front door earlier that afternoon to let him in.

Normally the silence doesn’t bother you. If anything, you welcome it as it helps you concentrate on the details of any piece you’re currently working on. There was just something about the way Eddie was sitting that made you feel uneasy. He didn’t seem present. Leaning against your dresser, legs sprawled out in front of him, gaze focused on something out the window as he fidgeted with the pencil in his hand.

At first you thought maybe he was planning the next move in his new campaign and just needed a minute, but then fifteen minutes passed and the metalhead still hadn’t moved. If you didn’t know any better, you’d doubt he was even breathing. As still as a rock.

A sudden wave of concern rushes through you and without taking a second to consider what you were doing, you grab one of the pillows from your bed and throw it in his direction.

“Shit, what the—”

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s not sure how to answer that question, especially when he looks at you. Eyes wider than normal, accompanied by delicate worry lines that he's never really been on the receiving end of — aside from Wayne's constant frown. Eddie first thinks you're clearly faking the concern 'cause why would you actually care? But the longer his gaze remains connected with yours, the more he wants to believe your sincerity is genuine. And that's fucking scary.

“Yeah,” he says eventually. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothin' you need to worry about.”

But you don't give up as easily as he hoped you would.

“Wanna talk about it?”

His lips twitch though he never actually smiles and you are certain then something definitely happened because it's as if he really wants to offer you a glimpse of happiness, but his body is refusing.

Dropping his gaze to the pencil in his hands, Eddie sighs. “You don't have to do that.”

“Do what?” You ask, stringing your brows together.

“Pretend like you actually give a shit,” he replies with a little more disdain than intended while once again catching your eyes with his own.

You don't mean to scoff, but you do. “Look, Eddie, I know we're not like best of friends or anything,”  you begin, hopping off the bed with an elegant bounce. “But considering lately I spend more time with you than Nancy or Steve, I feel like we can at least talk about shit, no? Like when something is bothering us, we can talk about that.”

He's slightly surprised at your words. The admission that you hang out with him more than your actual friends didn't seem right to him. In his mind, you and Wheeler are inseparable. He sees you two together all the time, sharing a ride to school, having lunch at the same table. And in the evenings or at the weekends, you're always around Harrington and that other girl, Buckley. Not like Eddie seeks you wherever he goes... He's just... observant.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Eddie rolls his eyes, tone full of disbelief. “You don't gotta lie to make me feel better.”

“I'm not,” you defend and sit cross-legged at his feet, knees brushing against the soles of his dirty Converse in the process. You know you don't owe him an explanation or reasoning, but it seems Eddie won't let up about what's on his mind without one. 

“Nancy and I have drifted apart since I kinda took Steve's side in their breakup. Sure we carpool and sit at the same table in the cafeteria, and our idiotic brothers are good friends, but that's pretty much it.”

Eddie starts to feel like a jerk for assuming shit when he clearly had no clue, but you don't give him a chance to interject. 

“And yeah, I see Steve often, but it's not like we're all buddy-buddy. He likes it when I stop by the video store to literally sit on the counter and draw his stupid head of hair just so he can make other girls jealous.”

“Jesus, that's shitty.”

You shrug, a small smile circling your lips. “I don't mind. Free film rental and peaceful sketching time.”

The lighthearted tone of your voice makes the corners of Eddie's mouth curl upwards, matching the expression currently present on your face. There's a semi-second of quiet. He's no longer feeling bad 'cause you've taken those worries away with one simple look. And when you knock your knee against his shoe again, Eddie's completely relaxed.

Lost in the way the sun reflects in your eyes, the metalhead doesn't really think when he asks, “So how come you've never invited me over for movie night, huh?”

You smirk. “Horrors aren't really my thing. I actually like to enjoy what I'm watching,” you tease, “Even if the shit is free. Don't wanna see any decapitations, thank you very much.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. He pulls his legs up before sliding along the carpeted floor of your bedroom until he's about a reach away from you. Closer than he's ever been. His arms make way around his legs, ring-clad fingers hanging low, poking at your calf.

Surprisingly, you don't flinch at Eddie's sudden proximity or the delicate touch.

“Quite presumptuous of you, sweetheart.” He affirms, gaze focused on where his skin brushes against the denim of your jeans.

“So you don't only watch gruesome things?” You challenge, your own fingers hesitantly reaching towards him, stopping before you can actually graze him in any way.

Eddie's smirking. “Not the point.”

“Sounds like I'm right,” you muse, your smile growing wider. “But I'll make you a deal.”

He looks up to meet your eyes then, hiking a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod. “If you tell me what you were thinking about earlier, I'll let you pick a movie we can watch together. Even something horrific.”

This was uncharted territory — (and also your third mistake). The two of you have never hung out outside of working on D&D campaigns, but since Eddie asked a mere minute ago, even if he was just teasing, you figured why the fuck not. What's the worst that could happen? Plus this seemed the only way to get him to open up.

Eddie tugs his bottom lip between his teeth as he mewls over your proposal. On the one hand, talking about feelings or problems isn't something he's necessarily into. And when it comes to spending time with you, part of the allure is congenial silence, unless he's the one fishing for information. On the other hand, his heart rate has increased tenfold at the thought of you hiding in his embrace during a particularly gross scene or before any jump scare.

In the end, the physical urge to be close to you, an unmistakable desire he's been experiencing for far longer than Eddie would care to admit out loud, wins.

“Carver just got in my head.”

The instant frown on your face, and how your fingers are suddenly reaching for his, looping together, make Eddie want to elaborate.

“Called me talentless. Usually the shit that douche and his gang of imbeciles spewer doesn't bother me 'cause I've been called many things throughout my life and whatever they come up with is more idiotic than hurtful, but I dunno, that comment just rubbed me the wrong way.”

He drops his gaze, focusing instead on your hands now perfectly intertwined. He began to rub gentle circles into your soft flesh and although this was completely odd behaviour for the two of you, it felt more than right.

“Because it's not true, Eddie.”

The metalhead's heart flips at your words and the encouraging tone behind them. Although he didn’t let it show, focusing instead on the dips between your knuckles and every single crease in your skin as he squeezed your hand just a little tighter.

“You're not talentless,” you affirm, dipping your head lower in hopes of catching his brown eyes. “If anything, you're one of the most talented people I've ever met.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, still refusing to look up.

“Eddie, you can't let those idiots make you feel worthless. You've got more talent in your left pinky than Carver and his band of bullies have put together.” You declare, rather passionately at that. “These campaigns you come up with, do you know the imagination that takes? I-I also know you play the guitar a-and sing too. Plus those extra curricular activities of yours require a mathematical brain. That's already also more talent than I have.”

He glances up at you then. “Shut up. As if you actually think I'm more talented than you?” he disputes and jerks his head towards some of the drawings covering the walls. “No one I know could do that and I know I never told you, but my campaigns would be nothin' without your art, sweetheart.”

Although heat rushes to your face at the unexpected compliment, you don't let Eddie's kind words steer you off course. This wasn't about what he thought of you, this was about what you thought of him and, as it turns out, how badly you wanted him to know.

“My stupid brother won't shut up about how fucking cool you are,” you reveal, chewing briefly on the inside of your cheek. “He's never said anything remotely as nice about me.”

Eddie lets out an airy chuckle. He drops his hold on you, but he doesn't give you a moment to even register how you instantly miss his touch, how your hands are burning with invisible imprints of where his skin brushed yours. No, because he's pushing your legs apart with little to no effort and sliding in-between them.

“Well, I happen to think you're cooler than me.”

It's your turn to laugh while again choosing not to comment on his closeness and ignoring how it made you feel. Ignoring how your stomach fluttered as he pressed his legs to your sides, hands hovering near your face as if he debated whether he was crossing some sort of line.

“Right. Don't fuck with me, Munson.”

“Cross my heart,” the metalhead promises. “Why do you think I asked you to help me out in the first place? Why do you think I willingly spend most of my afternoons with you? Like, there's no need for us to do this together. I can come up with the campaigns on my own then share the concepts so you can draw them out.”

You swallow 'cause the thought has never crossed your mind.

Before Eddie approached you with the offer, your knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons was definitely limited, only privy to whatever your brother and his friends shared. When Eddie asked you to draw something that very first time, and every time after that, you didn't stop and think if it was really necessary for you two to sit together for hours on end, crafting and creating on opposite ends of the room. Now that he's mentioned it, you really didn't need to.

“I-I don't—”

“There's no cooler chick than you, sweetheart.” Eddie interrupts, hands now cupping your face, no longer hesitant, and you're left wondering when the topic shifted from a conversation about his talents to whatever this was shaping up to be.

“Eddie...”

“How Harrington can use you to make other girls jealous instead of realising he should just ask you out, I-I don't understand.” The sentence fades with each word until his voice is a low muffle and you're not entirely sure you heard him correctly.

But every fibre of your being is screaming, so you know he definitely said it. And the way his doe-eyes are glimmering, your own reflection prominent in the pretty brown, only cinches that feeling.

Your final mistake is not asking then and there what Eddie meant.

He stands shortly after and extends a hand to also help you up.

“Speaking of, is the King of Hawkins working right now?” Eddie asks and when you nod slowly, still recovering from the small bomb he's after dropping, he claps his hands together. “Let's go then. I'm thinking we can start with My Bloody Valentine and because you're providing the entertainment, I'll get us some snacks.”

thank you for reading!

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

[cookiesupplier]

I saw your post and want to throw a request your way.

Noah Sebastian x reader

The reader has been struggling with depression and decides that she wants Nick to give her her first tattoo. Something that she would be able to look at when she is going through a rough time mentally and remind her that she matters. Noah would be there with her while she gets the tattoo. Maybe have it be on her ribcage or something like that.

Okay, so I’ve never gotten my ribcage tattoo’d personally, but from what I’ve been told it can be a painful/sensitive area to tattoo so I’m going to go with that. I am going to play on the face that my first tattoo was quite large and everyone tried to talk me out of it for my first one lolll This is only a blurby, but I sort of used a tattoo idea I really want to get for myself.. and I went with first person, which I've never done before.. so I hope I didn't do too badly for you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Noah squeezed my hand tightly, and I looked up to him where he sat in his chair by the tattoo bed looking over me. I was laying on my side, I’d worn a halter top to make it easier for Nicholas to access the skin along my ribs without having to take my entire top half off. Not that I’d have a problem with it, some might think my boyfriend might, but the fact that it was his best friend that he trusted most in the whole world that was the one tattooing me, well, I knew it wasn’t going to be a problem. We’d already had this discussion, and I’d been sure to talk to Noah about it first. I was the one that asked him to be here. He wasn’t here to be the overprotective boyfriend, he was here as emotional support. He was here for me to break his hand if the needle gun got too much. After all, it was the very first time I was to get a tattoo. It was understandable I was nervous. After Nicholas had rubbed the cool gel into my skin, both Nicholas and Noah checked if I was okay. I told them I was. After he placed the stencil, peeling it back to reveal the transferred imagery that included the fated lyrics that spoke to me so intensely. Seeing them there on my skin, even if temporarily for the moment, my breath caught and I could feel my eyes sting with slight tears and that was when Noah squeezed my hand so tight, “Are you sure you’re okay Baby?” Resting my head back down on the tattoo bed, looking up to Noah as he look down to my, smiling even as my  eyes glazed a little, “Yea, I’m great.” I wasn’t lying either, smiling a bit more, excited as Nicholas reached for the tattoo gun. “This is really going to hurt you know…” You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Noah had reminded me so many times ever since I’d told him what I wanted to do. “I know, I know! Geeze, it’s like you’re trying to talk me out of walking the plank!” It was a tattoo, my first, and yes it was my ribs. At least he hadn’t once tried to talk me out of getting lyrics from one of their songs, knowing what they meant to me. Careful What You Wish For, had been a song that had gotten me out of such a horrible place in my life, the whole second album had in a way. I sometimes found it hard to express just how much outside of that song, which was why I wanted to immortalise it on my skin. Most of the tattoo was inspired imagery that Nicholas had designed, he was an amazing artist, but he had slipped some of the lyrics in there, the ones that meant the most to me.. This tattoo was to remind me that tough times didn’t last forever, and to always keep going. After all, the man that took part in writing the very lyrics I was inking to my skin, the man that held my hand and supported me even if I was jumping in feet first for a tattoo that most people wouldn’t choose for their first.. At all.. He still was right here beside me. Nicholas started up the tattoo gun and the buzzing filled the room, “Let’s do this.” Grinning brightly as I looked from Noah over my shoulder to Nicholas with a nod, I was  ready when he was. The way Noah gripped my fingers too tight, I would swear he was more nervous than I was. That thought made me giggle a little. “Are you alright Babe? Don’t need to lie down with me, do you?” Smirking as he rolled his eyes, “Don’t laugh, you need to lay still.” He nodded to Nick, “Go on, she’s good.” Smiling down to me fondly. I loved him so much. I was glad I was careful what I wished for, because I would never want to miss one day with this man for any stupid mistake in the world.