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purple-plum-petals · 2 days ago

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Pleaseeee can you fo more homicipher reaction to mc who is very cheerful in every situation like shes either giggling or smiling, she's so unserious and oblivious af too.

⊱ Homicipher Characters’ Reactions to an MC Who Is Cheerful and Oblivious ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Machete, Mr. Hood, Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Minor Spoilers for Homicipher (Mr. Scarletella’s Part), Minor Canon-typical Mentions of Violence. Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,100 words. Request: “Pleaseeee can you fo more homicipher reaction to mc who is very cheerful in every situation like shes either giggling or smiling, she's so unserious and oblivious af too.” Author’s Note: This was such a fun request to think about since a human like this existing within the other world would pretty much be a living, walking target – like, you’d probably be dead so quickly if you were oblivious or naïve or too trusting (like me when I first played through the game and was smiling every time a hot monster man talked to me 😭). Since you didn’t specify any characters, I just picked a handful that I thought would have varying reactions to the type of reader you requested. I hope you enjoy!

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡

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👣: Mr. Crawling loves your cheerful and friendly personality, finding it a breath of fresh air within the other world. It draws him to you even more, like a moth to a bright flame. He likes how you sometimes just randomly giggle or laugh. He does it, too, so it’s nice to meet someone so similar to him! He definitely feels this sense of kinship with you when he notices all the similarities you two share. Mr. Crawling does everything in his power to keep you safe, wanting to protect you from everything or everyone attempting to harm you in the hopes you don’t lose that sparkle – that light within you.

👣: He’s already very protective of you, and your obliviousness to the other world and its residents makes that feeling even stronger. He is aware that your friendly and trusting nature will be taken advantage of in the world he calls his home, so he somehow manages to take a more proactive role when it comes to keeping you safe… if that was even possible (it’s ON SITE if he sees Mr. Stitch near you. Mr. Crawling knows how that particular resident acts, and he would prefer not to have him kidnap or try to eat you…).

👣: Whenever you laugh, he also laughs – you do the same thing with him, too, so you both kind of bounce off of each other and act like the other’s personal echo. Any other resident who sees the two of you kind of thinks you have a few screws loose, watching from afar while you both just randomly laugh together without a care in the world. Honestly, Mr. Crawling thinks it’s nice to be able to laugh with someone else like this.

👣: Overall, your personality manages to make him love you even more (if that was even possible). Mr. Crawling does everything in his power to make sure you never stop smiling, never once making you feel like you’re not supposed to laugh even if it may not be seen as appropriate in the situation. He doesn’t care that sometimes your obliviousness results in both of you finding yourselves between a rock and a hard place. He will be there by your side until the day you tell him to leave – his love for you is unconditional, and that’s just a fact no matter what kind of person you are.

🗣️: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped also finds himself immensely endeared to you and your personality. He loves how happy you are all the time, and he finds his mood improving whenever you’re around, too! It’s wonderful to have someone like you around, someone who is always so cheerful and upbeat, especially considering the place you have found yourself trapped in. He appreciates it – appreciates you, as a whole – but that doesn’t mean he has no reservations about your personality…

🗣️: His anxiety spikes whenever he thinks too much about what you were potentially getting up to whenever he wasn’t around, worried about you getting taken advantage of or giggling at the wrong question and ending up injured, or worse, dead. He really enjoys spending time with you, you’re like a ray of sunlight in such a dark place, and the thought of that being gone after having just experienced it is… quite an unpleasant thought (he doesn’t know what sunlight is, but he can vaguely remember a yellow warmth from a time long forgotten that you remind him of). If he had a body, he’d probably be ripping his beloved hair out just because of how oblivious you can be.

🗣️: Mr. Chopped is definitely the type to just start scolding you point-blank, telling you that you need to be more careful – his beautiful hair is going to turn grey at this point with how often he worries about you! Please don’t make him worry… It’s not good for his metaphorical heart. He even lectures you about how he typically tells the difference between people he can trust (like you, Mr. Silvair, the Hairdresser) versus people he knows he can’t trust (like the Hooded Child or Mr. Stitch) in the hopes it will have you thinking about your safety more.

🗣️: Sometimes he feels a sense of helplessness whenever he thinks about you and the fact he can’t do anything to keep you safe; it’s something he opens up about to Mr. Silvair whenever you’re not around. Mr. Chopped finds himself wishing that he had a body, even though you had assured him he was perfectly fine in your eyes without one. He just wants to help and protect you the way that others you knew were capable of doing. Whenever you sense he’s feeling down, though, your bright smile is enough to wash away his worries about your well-being, even if only for a moment.

🔪: Doesn’t understand why you’re so chipper all the time. Honestly, I feel like Mr. Machete would find it annoying, the fact you’re always smiling or giggling at one thing or another. He’ll purposefully chuck his sword at you in the hopes that it will scare you, make you wipe that stupid smile off your face, but it never does… It falters a bit, sure, but it never fully goes away, and that just pisses him off more.

🔪: He kind of makes it his mission to try and break you, to see how or what he can do to finally make you get angry or upset. After all, you never really fight back when he tries to start things with you, and that’s boring. He wants you to get frustrated at him, wants to see you throw a punch or try to hit him after another attempt at making your smile disappear, yet you never do. You remain smiling, and you’re oh-so blinding whenever you do, and he hates it. He hates you (or does he? He isn’t even sure himself… emotions are too complicated).

🔪: Overall, Mr. Machete has mixed feelings toward you. He can respect the strength it takes to keep a smile on your face, to remain positive and happy in a place filled to the brim with violence and death… That doesn’t mean he likes it, though, hearing your laughter whenever he does something you find endearing or if you see something you find amusing. It’s a sound that's headache-inducing, yet it also makes him want to pick you up and squeeze you (I’m a firm believer that he would have cuteness aggression). He has a love-hate relationship with you.

🔪: Mr. Machete also finds himself fed up with your obliviousness and naïvety, especially regarding other residents. He’s getting sick and tired of you finding yourself in trouble and, when it finally sets in you’re in danger, you call to him for help. Why the hell are you calling for him? You got yourself into this mess, and you’ll figure out a way to get out of it… Well, that’s what he says, but he usually takes care of whatever resident you found yourself in a conflict with, or he tosses you effortlessly over one shoulder and absconds if he doesn’t think it’s a fight he can win (don’t ask him why he even bothers saving you – he doesn’t know the answer, either).

🪓: Your cheerful and peppy attitude, the way you’re always smiling brightly and warmly at everyone you meet, makes Mr. Hood feel both endeared to you and worried about you. You do realize you just agreed to give that resident your heart, right? If he wasn’t here, you most certainly would have died, and that’s not exactly a thought he wants to entertain. He felt protective over you since the first moment you met, and that feeling had not died down once (even if looking after you had made him feel like he’d aged a century).

🪓: Always places himself between you and other residents when you attempt to communicate with them, using himself as a shield just in case you accidentally agree to something absurd or laugh at the wrong thing. Mr. Hood really shifts into teaching mode after cases like these, making sure you know exactly what certain words mean and when not to laugh, smile, or blindly agree to things. Honestly, if you were oblivious and overly trusting, he would feel it was his duty to stay by your side at all times and would be worried about what would happen if he left you alone.

🪓: However, despite the persisting feeling of worry your personality and some of your traits bring him when watching you interacting with most of the other residents, he can’t help but enjoy your presence. It’s new, and he surprisingly likes hearing the sound of your laughter. He finds your personality and behaviors to be cute, even though they bring you trouble more often than not. Most of the time, sometimes unconsciously, Mr. Hood finds himself resting his hand on the top of your head, patting it softly whenever you look up and smile at him so brightly.

🪓: Mr. Hood, despite finding that your obliviousness and your inability to take most things seriously typically ends up with you winding up in troublesome situations that could have been easily avoided, he still wouldn’t change a single thing about you (he has no problem staining his hands with more blood to keep you safe – killing residents while protecting you at the same time is something he’s good at, after all). Your smile is just too bright, your laugh almost infectious, and all he wants to do is make sure it never fades. He feels a strange ache in his chest whenever you take his hands into yours and tug him along, laughing all the way. He doesn’t understand it, but he also doesn’t have the desire to understand it, either.

🩸: Your personality intrigues him, and he finds himself desiring to know what you’re thinking about. What makes you so happy? How can you continue to travel through the other world, facing one traumatic event after another, with a smile constantly plastered on your face? A person like you is new to Mr. Scarletella, and he wants to be around you more. He wants to figure out how he can be the person making you smile and laugh in such a way – he wants to be able to bathe in the warmth and brightness your aura radiates.

🩸: Mr. Scarletella doesn’t make his presence known most of the time throughout your journey, but he watches you from afar, keeping an eye on you. However, if he does need to step in to keep you from harm, he will. Your reaction to him is unlike anyone else he's met, though. Most people who saw the man with the red umbrella would scream and run the other way, terrified of the story that was intertwined with his existence, but you didn’t. Honestly, it makes him want you more – you’re new, you’re different – and he likes it… likes you. There’s something about the sound of your laughter and your happy-go-lucky nature that makes him feel alive, in a way.

🩸: However, because of your obliviousness and naïvety, when he asks for your name and you just give it to him without a second thought… well, it makes his goal a lot easier. If I’m being 100% honest, being oblivious or overly trusting around Mr. Scarletella is not a good mix. Because he finds you interesting and different from other humans he’s seen before, he’s pleased that you’re his now – heart, body, and soul. You forget everything about yourself after, though, and he doesn’t find you as appealing as he once did (he low-key kind of regrets asking for your name).

🩸: For feel-good purposes, though, we’ll just ignore the last point and continue with the fluff… So, overall, Mr. Scarletella would find you fascinating and would find himself wanting to be near you in any capacity, whether it be as your master or your servant, he wouldn’t care so long as he got to be with you. He honestly wonders how you’ve managed to live for as long as you have considering your general attitude towards most things, but he’s glad that you did. Being with you makes his lungs feel like they’re full of fresh air, and he gets a pleasant tingling sensation in his body whenever he hears your laughter echo through the dilapidated hallways of the other world.

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carbonfiction · 2 days ago

Text

Irrevocably mine

Worst!Wolverine x reader

summary: Sometimes you get to be too much for Logan; not emotionally, god no. Never like that.. Just the mere presence of you stirs something within him. somedays, it just gets too much, that visceral need to be enveloped by you. it makes him nothing short of desperate, worn eyes begging and pleading, unsatisfied and unhappy until he has you closer than close.

warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI- Needy worst!Logan, f! Receiving oral, oral on couch?fingering, mentions of bodily fluids (cum and spit) cum eating?(Technically?? S' just suckin on fingers), not sure if this classes as free use?? teeny tiny bit of face slapping, swearing.. he's a little pussy drunk here i cant lie.. But uhh think thats it??

Masterlist words: little over 1.8k

Sometimes you get to be too much for Logan; not emotionally, god no. Never like that.. Just the mere presence of you stirs something within him. The mingled scent of your perfume and shampoo on the bedsheets, on his clothing, a sweet fragrance that seems to follow him around the house even in your absence.

Somedays he can quell the feelings down in his gut until its nothing more than a dull ache, like a muscle overstrained. other times it'll grow, festering in his bloodstream until his body thrums with need.

And Somedays.. Well. Somedays get too much, that visceral need to be enveloped by you. It boils over until he's nothing but desperate, worn eyes begging and pleading as he follows you around, unsatisfied and unhappy until he's inside you- has you closer than close.

Today had been one of those boiling over days. He'd felt it stir from the moment he'd awoken with you snuggled into him, head pushed so far into the crook of his neck it was a wonder you could breathe as you planted gentle kisses across his skin.

Logan pushed the feeling down as you showered together, trying his best to ignore your soapy nakedness and wandering hands, a casual intimacy, as you gently washed him and his hair the same way he always did for you.

He continued his restraint as he'd spent the majority of his day with Wade and his incessant jabbering mouth. But Logan could still feel the ache inside grow, his clothes sitting uncomfortable on his skin, even with half a mind on helping his begrudged friend "fix up a shelf"

*in other words, it was one of Wade's horrible excuse to get logan in his house holding power tools. Making lewd; only-things-wade-would-come-up-with level comments until logan would threaten to shove his claws so far down Wade's throat that he'd be classified as a kebab*

But what really pushed Logan over the edge was when he'd gotten home to the sight of you laid out on the couch reading a book while only wearing one of his flannel shirts with some panties. A usual outfit for you around the house really, but it never stopped driving him wild. The way the of the fabric framed your skin in the soft setting sunlight stirred away at him until his clothes really became uncomfortably constricting.

He needed you, needed to be beside you, above and below you. To finally let your scent consume him whole. He wanted to beg, to plead for you to use him for your pleasure. It was like witchcraft the way you rendered him so pent up by merely existing in his life, like an angel of pure sin had fallen from the sky right into his arms.

His steps were swift as he came to a stop in front of the sofa, jacket thrown haphazardly somewhere in the hall. Your eyes break from the book in your hands as yours meet his, your legs now the only barrier to taking a seat. Within seconds, Logans hands gently lift the soft expanses of your lower legs, a smile appearing on both your faces as he sits.

At first he makes no moves, tells you to keep reading while his hands just simply trace and massage patterns into your limbs, enjoying a comfortable silence. You don't seem to notice how his eyes roam hungry against your dressed form or the chubby bulge that sits heavy in his jeans.

His rough hands slowly walk higher until they find their way under the fabric of your- his- shirt, your thighs soft; doughy and warm in his large palms. And yet his moves don't alarm you, don't break your trance to the page your so taken by in that damn book.

He thinks you don't feel the way his broad body shifts you with him, subtly lowering himself to the carpet until he's practically between your legs. He thinks you don't see the look in his eyes, shining with hunger and need.

Truthfully you see it all, practically felt the growing heat of the fire inside him from the moment he walked in, but you know what he needs from you so you continue to read, letting him believe you don't know.

You make no move when his head dips down, scuffed cheeks moving up from your ankles as he plants gentle kisses. Your stillness burns the flames inside higher, craving acknowledgement, wanting to devour you, but he knows no matter how engrossed in something you are you'd stop him if you didn't want it to happen.

Logan takes his time until he's just above your knees, then, he shifts again, now fully kneeling on the carpet. Your legs placed over broad shoulders. his hands roaming, pushing up the fabric until it rests just above your pubic bone.

His thumb finds your clit over delicate cotton and lace, a teasing pressure that makes you suppress a shudder. Its calculated, barely there and absolutely not enough but it still manages to spark pleasure.

And pleasure given by Logan was like ecstasy.

But, to your surprise, itstays like that for a while; him doing nothing more than planting little nips and kisses to your thighs and lavishing his tongue along the steadily drenching gusset of fabric. Spit aiding the wetness until they press translucent against your slit.

There's a heat in your own gut that builds from his movements, one that has you relenting the little strength you had to ignore him. the exchange so far wordless. But the moment the book hits the couch and your fingers finally entangle in his hair, finding his signature tufts and tugging gently, things shift. The brown strands are soft between your fingers as he lets out a quiet groan, finally speaking up in an intoxicating rumble "gonna let me taste you properly princess? Please.. I need it, been waiting all day to taste you"

For a moment you consider denying him, tease him a little longer, but the embers that burn in his gaze stop you in your tracks. A softly murmured 'yeah' fills the air and as quick as it leaves your lips his own dip, finding the dampening fabric of your underwear and inhaling.

One heavy adamantium arm lies dormant over you, palm splayed on your lower stomach, doing little more than pressing down your hips whenever you even attempt to wriggle for more. The other switches between pawing against your covered tits and holding one of your hands tight.

You squirm under him, sticky and wet as you allow him to choose his pace. Letting him take what he needs so desperately from you, allowing him his time to conduct his main goal; to taste your cum soaked cunt on his tongue like a spoonful of the finest honey.

"Got the sweetest little pussy.. could die happy down here" his eyes make contact with yours as he speaks making you whine. Something in the way they darken when talking about your cunt sending a shooting jolt of pleasure through your veins.

Logan slips his hand from yours until it sits right on the side of your inner thigh. Fingers coming up the middle of the soggy material before he hooks them, pulling them aside and baring you fully unrestricted to him.

"There she is.." he mumbles, lips immediately finding your puffy clit and sucking softly. His tongue flicking against the pulsing bud and paired with the constant suction of his mouth it draws the littlest mewls from your lips; quiet gasps of obscenity.

He spits then, lust blown eyes locked to your puffy cunt, his thumb a steady pressure on your bud as he rubs the saliva in tight circles. A groan as he observes how your empty hole clenches around air, slick arousal mixed with spit drooling down to your ass. "Lookacha fuckin' drooling all over me already.. What a needy princess"

You don't get the chance to respond- to tease him for his own need- what with how his mouth latches back over your pussy. A jumble of sounds filling the room, half sloppy and wet from the way logan laps at you, the other mewls, moans and whimpers as the feeling of your orgasm builds in your gut.

"F-feels so good.... Don't stop, please don't"

If anyone knows how to eat pussy, its Logan. His ability to eat pussy- to eat your pussy- is beyond any man you'd ever been with. You suppose its all in the years, experience built in his time, but its not like you have the capacity to really ponder its origins right now; not with the gusto he's sucking and savoring you with.

"L-Lo.. Fuck- s-so close" you breathe, whiney moans bubbling from your chest as your back arches on the cushion. They grow in volume with each flick and lap of his tongue. Broad strokes to precise flits, all uniquely drawing you closer, winding up the tension higher.

But what really shatters you is Logans fingers. Long and thick, enough to offer a pleasurable stretch, as his index slips just below his working mouth- sliding inside with zero resistance. He crooks it back and forth once, twice, three times before the middle slips inside as well.

You moan louder, hips thrusting down; fucking yourself on his digits as you chase the ecstasy tingling through your fingertips. The grip on his hair tight, making logan grunt and grumble as you guide his face along your dripping pussy.

"C'mon princess. Do it, cum f'me. Need it" he murmurs and the way it wetly vibrates across your clit shatters the tension in your gut, making you cum with a broken gasp. Logans mouth and fingers never stopping their delicious rhythm until tears well in your eyes, fingers desperately tugging at his hair. Your thighs beginning to close around his ears before he pulls away, a deep satisfied grin spread across his face. His beard visibly wet, cum and spit soaked.

"Fuck lo.." you giggle breathless, tugging him up from the floor practically by his hair. "Always make me feel s'good baby" the words are breathy, pressed against his lips in a wet kiss, the taste of you on his tongue.

"I like making you feel good.. Do so well for me everytime" he smirks and you feel it pressed to your lips; a blush spreading from the combination of your taste and his praise.

You kiss him lewdly, sloppy and passionate as you carefully grab his hand from your pussy and tug it up, large fingers still slick and coated in a thin creamy layer of your release. You pull back then, with a soft sinful giggle, making full eye contact with him as you open your mouth, placing those fingers on your tongue, lips closing around them like they would his cock.

The sight makes logan groan, his eyes darkened so much they are almost black. His chubbed cock leaking desperately in his now far to tight jeans. You smile, His free hand lifting to tap roughly on your cheek as they hollow around the digits teasingly. "My pretty girl and her flithy mouth.. Think we should get you something else to suck on hm?"

Save me needy logan.. Save me.. Writers block is easing up a lil so i figured I'd write something I'd enjoy as a reader?? Lemme know whatcha think! <333

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x reader smut #carbonsfics #worst wolverine #worst logan #logan x reader #logan wolverine

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rafelandia · 3 days ago

Text

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers.

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times.

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife.

Good. She was sleeping.

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely.

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door.

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so.

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.”

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list.

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister.

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.”

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this?

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands.

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his.

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face.

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now.

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did.

With two babies.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dad!rafe #dad!rafe x reader #dad rafe #dad!rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe x fem!reader #rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe cameron #mine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey x reader

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daxhalfawake · 3 days ago

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FUCK.

So, I knew some of this bc my step-grandmother-in-law got COVID and insisted it was allergies and was dead from a stroke caused by a weird blood clot that they know is a type that happens in long COVID literally 6 months later. And I got COVID last year, despite doing everything I could not to, because my wife's boss came back to work too soon, without testing negative. I was 5 weeks pregnant. My wife's infection involved mostly wheezing and coughing and shortness of breath. I had a fever of 102°, a migraine, bad congestion and a gross cough. We both had the body aches real bad.

My COVID infection triggered essential hypertension (high blood pressure, I'm 30 [29 when I got COVID] and wasn't eating too poorly then, but I do eat better now). My blood pressure was consistently reading at stroke-risk levels and I had to go on blood pressure meds. I've had several other new or worsening health issues since the infection that my doctors have yet to pinpoint the cause of, but we haven't been focused on the cause because I was very sick and the cause wouldn't be environmental.

But on the neurological/brain damage - I got COVID, had 2 miscarriages, then fell into derealization for 8 months so I thought that was most of it but like there are things I never got with derealization before and that haven't gotten better since coming out of it.

I type a phrase I've been using correctly my entire life and then stare at it bc it looks wrong and I don't know why but I can't send it if it's wrong (spoiler: it has never actually been wrong). I've started using words that I haven't used since high school - problematic ones that I stopped even thinking about using bc they were problematic - and I have been horrified at myself despite most of these words having been used only in my own company. I literally have to remind myself that we don't use that word anymore if it pops into my head because my filters are also off now. My eyes unfocus and I cannot get them to refocus. And I use the wrong words sometimes, words that don't even make sense in reference to the one I need - but that one's getting better. I can't remember things like I used to. Like I have memory issues and have my whole life, don't get me wrong - I'm ADHD and I have cPTSD - but this is different. Because I also have a selective photographic memory and I used to be able to walk myself backwards to find things I put in weird places with ease and now I lose everything for way too long and it triggers autistic meltdowns. My brain fog from my various conditions is significantly worse - to the extent that even on my Adderall, my mind will go completely empty while I am in the middle of speaking a sentence and I will lose my entire train of thought and not be able to remember without prompting from an active listener to the conversation; sometimes not even then.

Literally TONIGHT, in the aftermath of an autistic meltdown I was trying to articulate to my wife why I need more mental processing time in the middle of a conversation, and I mentioned that sometimes I'm trying to keep up with the conversation and her words stop being English to my brain. Not being able to understand words is mentioned in this article from Harvard University, and I have been becoming INCREASINGLY AND INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATED with the fact that I "all of a sudden" started having these episodes where someone is talking to me and their words start out okay and then they flip and it sounds like a garbled mess of sounds, not even words.

I just want to remind people that it’s 2024 and we didn’t “go thru a pandemic” we are “going thru a pandemic” present tense. It is still happening. People are still get sick, still becoming disabled, and still dying. Covid hasn’t gone away and I beg people to not normalize getting sick with it.

#uhhh #i guess #i should see a neurologist

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soaked4mk · 3 days ago

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Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown 🤡 HONKAH HONKAH)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

#deadpool x reader #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool headcanons #deadpool smut #rainyworx #fanfiction #what can I say I like OLDER GUYS SUE MEEEEE #i wanna be saveddd #logan howlett

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dubina-dawkins · 12 hours ago

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DEAN WINCHESTER | NSFW HEADCANONS

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

warnings/notes: smut! minors dni, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected (done by professionals don't try this at home), p in v, dean is switch, marking kink, praise kink, some dirty talk as well, gentle sex but not vanilla, like LOVEmaking even, just a lot of smutty stuff from my head, english is not my first language sorry if there's some mistakes

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

> let's just say. you're different

> it's strange, but somehow dean just couldn't bear a thought of fucking you before all of your relationship thing started

> that "storgy" thing where you were friends for half your life before you started dating

> and even after you did became his girlfriend dean just... was scared to think about something spicy with you?

> until one day he was too tired to care, when your kisses became hotter and he couldn't bring himself to hold back as usual

> like, really too tired. everything that going on is kinda exhausting him. but you're always there to help!

> your first time together? even though dean couldn't hold back anymore, it doesn't mean he was fast and rough

> no, he's one of the gentle kind

> kisses all over your body and very long foreplay

> but at one point you just get tired of these idle kisses and just

> "quit the talking, please"

> man, he's completely screwed at that point

> marking works both ways, actually

> no, really, dean adores the sight of you in his marks. hickeys, lovebites

> it intoxicates him better than any whiskey

> he pays extra attention to your neck. and to your breasts, too

> but sometimes when it sam's turn on doing the laundry, he sees there some of dean's flannels

> and their collars are stained with dark traces of lipstick...

> when dean feels your waxy lips on his skin, he knows it would leave a mark. knows he'll need to shower those off

> but from the way you look at him, when your lipstick is smeared over his lips, cheeks, neck and all the way down

> he'd rather never take a shower to keep these

> your lovebites and nibbles drive him crazy

> to the point he whimpers your name. and you're not even starting!

> scratches too. he gets teased about these. a lot. by nearly anyone who sees them

> he's not intense kind, - not all the time at least

> but it feels too good for you not to leave a mark of your nails on his back

> "did you take the tiger in fight?"

> "sammy, shut it."

> he'd like to do it nearly everywhere, it's just you who keeps him on track

> he'd slip his hands under your jacket the very second you leave witness' house, being in fbi undercover

> "good suit, agent carol kay... seriously, you couldn't come up with a better name?"

> "agent joey kramer says"

> for you the height of extreme is the back seat of the Baby, especially when she's standing at Bobby's

> dean would never admit it, but he's a sucker for you in charge

> you don't need much to get him turned on

> one "good boy" is enough

> and he's so worked out about it

> you tease him, kiss him, touch him, and he already needs to bite on his lip

> especially when you get to his chest. he didn't joke about his nipples being hypersensitive

> there's no words that can describe thst heavenly sound he makes when you tease his sensitive tip, when your fingers work on the entire length

> he whines your name, stroking your hair. his sounds are purely animalistic when you finally take him all in your mouth

> dean's not huge, but he's bigger than average. and it definitely is enough to make you moan his name, sometimes in a really pornographic way

> "please, baby... let me c-"

> "not yet, pretty boy" you whisper, letting his hardened cock put of your mouth with a wet pop

> it's like a tradition. when you two have an extra-time, you prepare each other. you sucking him off, him eating you out. swings of gentle dominance and comfort submission.

> dean, unlike his brother, is not a puppy-look person... but when he's between your thighs, kissing and nibbling on the skin, and his gaze rises to your face, begging to go further..

> then he really looks like an obedient dog.

> extra attention to your clit. sucking, licking, sucking again. dean adores the sounds you make at these

> but most of the time it's just a stress relief after tough hunts

> or when sam goes out to get some food

> quick and needy

> and you fucking adore seeing your always tough man being needy for at least your hand in his hair

> at very least.

a/n: love him. my man. my boy. my everything. god im obsessed, hyperfixated and ovulated. the unlohy trinity.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut

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glossdebut · 1 day ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 2 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: ask and you shall receive! i still don't have a set drop date for this chapter, but i wanted to post this short teaser for y'all anyway since you've been waiting so patiently. i am so thankful for all of the love i'm getting for this series already!!! chapter one is almost at 500 notes which is SO insane. i get so stupidly giddy every time i receive a reply, reblog, or an ask about this series! feedback and interaction keep me writing and i am so looking forward to what all of you think of this teaser. reminder that you can track the tag 'glossdebut updates' to stay updated on drop dates/word counts/etc.!

P.S. just like with all of my teasers, wording is subject to change when the chapter actually comes out <3

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 481 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents.

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

@yoongiphoria @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @this-most-assuredly-counts @sugafun @binniesbabe

@1800lxcifrrr @whoa-jo @amarawayne @kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @angellekookie

@jalexad @tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @notsevenwithyou

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frankensteinzmonstrrr · 3 days ago

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The Benefits of Being a Marine Biologist (Part 2)

Part 1 Merman x transmasc reader Contains: getting to know your monster crush Warnings: discussion of top surgery & scars Length: 1.5K words

The next evening, you manage to leave the lab a bit early, mumbling excuses about not feeling well. You weren't exactly lying; the thought of seeing the merman again was giving you butterflies in your stomach. You had slept poorly last night, kept awake wondering if there was any way you could have imagined your encounter with the creature. It seemed impossible, but you knew it all really happened. You remembered the soft, cool touch of his hand against yours.

Grimacing at how slowly you are forced to drive down the sandy gravel road, you finally reach the trailhead. You practically leap out of your car, grabbing your tote bag containing swim trunks and a flashlight.

Once solidly within the privacy of the brush, you change out your lab-safety-approved chinos for your bathing suit as fast as you can, your need to rush of course making you fumble more than usual. You all but run down the rest of the path.

As soon as you emerge from the grass and your feet hit the soft sand of the beach, you see a shape pop up from the water by the rocks. As you begin to walk to the opposite side of the shoreline, your hopes are confirmed: it's Abalone. He waves to you awkwardly, clearly imitating an observed human gesture.

As you walk toward him, you try to quickly study his appearance. Yesterday you were too shocked to observe the finer details of what he looks like. His silvery skin transitions to darker gray shades towards his hands and on his tail, clearly some kind of point coloring. Despite being aquatic, he somehow has what looks like long, dark hair. You wonder if his "hair" is actually spines of some kind. His face is shockingly human, his features just a bit sharper and with somewhat large eyes. Your eyes wander down and you see that he has very humanoid pectoral and abdominal muscles, too. Realizing that you've been staring at him for at least a full minute, you drop your gaze to your feet as you approach the water's edge.

"I brought clothes to swim!" you call to him. You don't feel the need to fully shout, because he clearly had heard you coming from the trail. "I hope it's not too cold!"

You toss your bag and your t-shirt behind you onto the dry sand. As you step into the water the chill bites at your feet, but it's a tolerable cold. You wade out along the edge of the rocks until the water reaches almost to your shoulders. Seeming to realize that any further out would be an uncomfortable depth for a human, Abalone closes the remaining gap between the two of you, swimming gracefully just below the water's surface. You observe that his tail moves from side to side like a fish, not up and down like a whale or dolphin. Fascinating.

Abalone smiles at you as he surfaces and adjusts himself to be upright in the shallower water. You simply look at each other for a moment, both unsure what to say. He breaks the silence with his odd laugh. "You are so short!"

Instinctively you cross your arms and reply, "No I am not! I'm average height. For a human," you add. "I could say that you're so tall... Or long?"

"Fair enough." You can't help but wonder if he learned that phrase from you. "What do you do during the daytime?"

"I go and work as a scientist." You struggle to think of a simple enough explanation for someone who doesn't know what a computer is. "I record all sorts of things about animals and plants from the ocean."

"Very nice. Sounds very nice," he replied thoughtfully. "During the day sometimes I sleep, sometimes I hunt. Not much to do."

"What do you hunt?"'

"All the fish," he grinned. With those sharp teeth, it only makes sense that he's a carnivore. "The bigger the fish, the better to eat. Once I caught a shark almost as big as me. Have you ever eaten shark?"

Abalone seemed to have as many questions for you as you did for him. "No, I haven't. Humans don't really eat shark. Except for in soup, but I'm honestly not sure if that's real."

"Shark soup," he repeated. "Soup isn't real."

"No!" you laugh. "Soup is a real food. It's like cooking things in water."

"What ever," he said, clearly enunciating the two words as separate. That only makes you giggle more.

You look down into the water and notice how Abalone's tail is crammed underneath himself in the shallow depth. "Here, let me go up on the rocks and sit somewhere where you can sit normally too." He doesn't say anything in response, just bobbing along happily in the water as you climb up onto the stone pile and move further out into the water.

When you take a seat on the least offensive boulder, Abalone joins you on the rock's edge. Suddenly, he points to you and says, "You're like me."

"What?"

"You're like me," he says again, pointing to your chest and then to his.

Oh. He sees your top surgery scars, faded but still visible, and is pointing to faint striping on his own torso. "N-no," you stammer. "Those are my scars. I don't have stripes like you."

"Ah. Scars from what?"

"I don't know if you'll understand. They're from surgery... something that had to be done for medicine? For healing?"

"I see." Dropping the subject, he silently moved a bit closer to you and rested his chin on the rock next to where you sat. "You have very small claws."

"I don't need them as much as you probably do." You involuntarily imagine his dark talons ripping through the flesh of his prey.

Abalone reached for your hand and gently pulled at it. You let him lift it towards him. You hadn't noticed before that his fingers are webbed. Makes sense.

He held up his hand flat against yours, and you mirrored his movement. He pressed his palm against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. He gazed in wonder at your hand and wrist, no doubt thinking about what a tiny human you are.

You stared right back at his hand, and arm, and body. His hand is definitely larger than yours, but not by much. He seemed to have the proportions of a very tall man, with a several yards long tail instead of legs. Without thinking, you take your hand from his and reach forward to touch his hair. The fibers are coarser than human hair, as you expected. Your thoughts of what it could be composed of if not keratin are interrupted when you realized that he is leaning in to your touch.

You yank your hand back automatically and begin to apologize, but Abalone grabs your hand and pulls you forward into the water. The cold shocks you, but you still notice that his hand is warm in the icy ocean.

Holding onto you with one arm as if he's not fully convinced you can swim, he turns and points at the sky. "The sun is almost down. Don't stay late."

He was right. Only the last slivers of the orange sun remained above the horizon. "Thank you. You're right, I should leave now."

Still holding your hand, he began to swim towards the shore. You laugh and tell him you can swim, insisting that the doesn't need to drag you along, but he doesn't listen. You can't see into the water very well in the increasing dimness, but you think you see the glint of his mischievous smile.

He releases your hand once your feet touch the sandy floor. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

You open your mouth to tell him yes, but your heart drops when you remember that you have to stay at the lab late for a meeting the next night. "I'm sorry, I can't. I have to work."

Abalone frowns at that, his playful demeanor vanishing. "When can you come back?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe in two days?... I wish there was some way I could tell you when I can come here."

"It's alright," he said, quieter than usual, but then a small smile creeped back onto his face. "I can wait for you here! At sunset!"

"Every day?" you laugh incredulously. "You can't wait for me every single day."

"Yes I can. I did it today and it was easy."

You shake your head in bewilderment. "Okay, if you say so."

"Okay!" he repeated. He reached out toward you and gently pushed you toward the shore. "You need to go home. It's almost dark."

You sigh and start trudging through the gentle waves, twisting around so you're still facing him. "I'll see you soon. I promise."

When you reach the shore and gather your things, he waves goodbye to you in the same stiff, odd way. You smile ear to ear as you wave back.

The walk back to your car is freezing cold, with only the beam of your flashlight illuminating the path, but you couldn't be happier. You had left work claiming illness, but now you feel even stranger than you did before.

Author's notes: thank you so much for reading, and for all the support on the first part! Part 3 will be coming soon. Tip Jar on Ko-Fi

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wannaeatramyeon · 7 hours ago

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Meeting Olly Wang for the First Time: Influence

G/N. Sort of soft. I did it anon!! Masterlists

In hindsight you could have been considered a bad influence except you felt bad for him. You like to think that you showed Olly Wang there was more to life than studying, there are some things that can't be taught through textbooks.

You taught him how to live, you gave him room to breathe.

But sometimes, when the nights are too silent and your brain is too loud, when you miss him so much it hurts, you would think that it was all your fault. You set him on this path.

It's stupid, of course. Your minor risk-taking and vices are nothing compared to what has happened since.

Still, it eats away at you.

It's entirely by chance that you meet.

You're not particularly studious, but empty pockets and a meagre allowance accompanied with bad weather means your options are limited.

In the library, tucked away in the corner is a boy.

Trying his best to read and study yet annoying teenagers continue to heckle him. Throwing balled up pieces of paper and calling out derisive comments.

"Fuck off," you snap, feeling kind hearted today and storming over. You drag one of them away by the hair.

"Hey! Get off-" He tries to wiggle out of your grasp.

"Leave him alone, assholes," you snarl, shoving him away.

The commotion is finally enough to draw the attention of the staff.

The teens are shooed out, throwing angry daggers your way.

"You're welcome by the way," You tell the boy in the corner and you think he mutters something about being able to take them on himself.

Narrowing your eyes, you yank his ear, "What did you just say?"

When he doesn't react, you let go. Huh?

He doesn't feel pain, he tells you, or to be honest, anything. And then when you continue glaring at him thinking that that's bullshit, he introduces himself as Olly Wang.

The first time he ditches class, as a middle-schooler, is with you. Just two kids wandering the streets of Gangdong. You, used to skipping the occasional days and class, and embracing freedom, while Olly fidgets next you.

His mouth, usually stretched too wide in a grin, is pulled down at the corners today. Tense eyes behind glasses anxiously flickers from side to side.

"You think your parents are going to catch you?" You tease, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

"No." Olly doesn't sound convinced and you sigh.

"So what do you want to do?"

"Me?" he asks, blinking owlishly as if that's the first time someone has ever asked him that question.

You shrug off his weird response. "We can go the park. Shopping. Not that I have any money. Arcade-"

"Arcade!" he pipes up, then cowering and furtively glancing around him in case his parents are actually around.

Nevertheless, he spends hours and hours by your side; fighting each other, killing zombies, and racing cars. The sound of 8-bit music and bright flashing lights soon drown out his fears.

That day, Olly smiles genuinely along with you.

You first hear about Eli Jang a few weeks later.

Apparently he's fallen in with a new group of friends and this guy is the coolest person he has ever seen.

He's an orphan, he does whatever he want.

"Ok," you deadpan to each fact about this Eli Jang, growing more bored by the second.

Olly, oblivious to your reaction, continues fawning over him.

"Here, try it,"

You only offered the cigarette to stop him talking about Eli Jang. You've lost count of the times you've rolled your eyes.

Olly pauses, torn between wanting to impress you and not wanting to inhale the nasty smoke.

He gives in when he sees the playful glint in your eyes. His finger brushes yours as you pass it to him, and he places his lips where yours were just mere seconds ago.

"ACK!"

You giggle to yourself watching Olly hacking and sputtering.

You reach out to ruffle his hair once he calms and he peeks at you feeling his cheeks burn.

"Why do you want to be like Eli?" you side-eye Olly, interrupting his ranting.

"I-" Olly starts, and then finds he can't say the words in your presence. He thinks Eli is the only one that makes him feel something but-

Deep down, when he's with you, he's not sure that's entirely true.

You misread his pause for something else.

You shrug, "I like you as you are."

"Want some?" you ask, shaking the bottle of soju at him.

Olly bites his lip, "Eli wouldn't-"

"Ugh!" You cut in rudely. "I've never met the guy and I feel like I know everything about him. Will you shut up about Eli?"

"But Eli-"

"I said shut up," you pull him by his stupid collar and yank his stupid lips to yours.

You consider blaming your actions on the alcohol even though you've barely taken a sip.

Olly stares at you, dazed, but there's a fire in his eyes.

"Ok." He agrees, then adds as he adjusts his glasses. "Only if you'll do that again."

You raise your eyebrows at his audacity. At this strange boy who was tucked away in the corner of the library.

"I thought you said you couldn't feel anything?"

Olly gives you a grin, different from his trademark open-mouthed one. It's almost a smirk. His gaze meets yours, determined and unwavering.

"I think I might have felt something then."

You lean in, at the same time as he does, meeting him halfway and kissing him again.

#to anon who planted the thought of olly wang in my head weeks ago. i finally reread their arcs #not thoroughly. as you can tell from the quality of writing #lookism #lookism x reader #olly wang #olly wang x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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inkandiridescence · 2 days ago

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The Start of Something New

This is chapter one of something I've been writing yay

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every year on Oscar Sunday my family and I would make our own pizzas and eat in front of the TV watching our favorite actors win awards.

"You know one day..."

"You're going to be on that stage. We know, you say that every year." My dad says with a teasing grin. I would smile into my bite of pizza before going back to cheering on my favorite film of the year.

This year is different though. This year I'll be ordering my pizza and eating it in my hotel room. This year I'll call my parents and tell them "I told you so."

Sure, I haven't actually been nominated (yet) but presenting an award is pretty cool too. Especially at my age. At first, I was a little upset that my movie hadn't gotten nominated, but it's still an honor to be a part of the show.

I'm smoothing out my dress when I hear a knock on the door. I don't get a word out before my agent rushes into the room.

"Kiddo you look stunning." She says and I smile to myself in the mirror.

"Thank you lucy. I mean I gotta look good, Billie Eilish might be there." I say and shoot her a smirk through the mirror.

"I mean, she probably will be. This is her first-ever nomination." My eyes widened.

"Don't get my hopes up. Dude, imagine she actually wins. I would hand her the award oh my god." Lucy laughs and picks up a necklace.

"That would be a sight to see for sure. Oh, by the way, Matt was looking for you." I roll my eyes.

"He knows I'm getting ready. I told him five thousand times." She laughs before patting my shoulder, "He just wants to make sure you're okay. He really cares about you." She gives my arm a quick squeeze, "Car will be here in ten. Come down soon." I nod and look back toward the mirror.

Matt and I have been dating for almost two years. Our relationship is kind of rocky, to say the least. Sometimes he's really loving and sweet and other times it's like I don't even have a boyfriend. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Everyone would always tell me how they felt when they saw their boyfriend. How giddy and happy they would feel. I don't feel any of that. Even when he's being all lovely. I don't know, maybe there's something wrong with me.

——

As we pull up to the carpet I see the many many flashes of lights. Butterflies erupt in my stomach as it finally hits me. I'm at one of the most prestigious award shows. Holy shit.

Matt grabs my hand and gently squeezes it. I smile and look at him just to see that he's recording it. Again. I pull my hand away and open the car door without waiting on someone to do it.

The cheering gets louder as I step out making me blush. Matt gets out right behind me as we line up to start walking down the carpet.

"Why'd you pull your hand away?" He asks while grabbing my hand again. "I don't want to talk about it right now." I say as Lucy hurries us onto the carpet.

"Alyssa over here!"

"Alyssa! Matt! Look here!"

"Give us a kiss!"

I smile and look at everyone, ignoring the last comment. Not quickly enough, Lucy comes over to take Matt to the end so I can take solo shots.

As soon as I'm finished I take a deep breath and walk over to Lucy and Matt. I grab Matt's hand and walk into the theater. We make our way over to our seats and sit down.

"So, we have time, why'd you take your hand away?" I sigh and face him, "I just hate how you can't be cute or whatever without filming it. Youtube isn't the only thing in the world you know." He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I know. And acting isn't the only thing in the world." He mumbles under his breath. I take a deep breath not wanting to start an argument now.

——

As the night goes on and awards are collected I grow more and more nervous. I'm backstage waiting for the commercial break to end before I go out to announce the winner of Best Original Song.

I almost shit myself when I hear the voice overhead. "Welcome back to the 94th Academy Awards. Here to announce the nominees for Best Original Song, It's Alyssa Greer." The audience claps as I walk out with a smile and wave. I take a second to admire the audience. I'm standing on the Oscars stage.

"Each of these pieces has powerful and engaging lyrical motifs, combined with dynamic instrumental storytelling that have touched our souls. They created an emotional experience that will remain with us long after the final credits. Here are the nominees for Original Song." I smiled and let out a small breath as the nominees played on the screen behind me. When it got to Billie's name I said a silent prayer that it was her. Suddenly the cameras were back on me.

"And the Oscar goes to...Billie Eilish and Finneas!" I smile. I see her and her brother get up and hug everyone. They make their way up to me and I hand Finneas his award first then Billie hers. She hugs me tightly, "Thank you, baby." My cheeks heat up and I can't stop smiling. Baby? You can't be doing that to be girl, I will go feral.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts and staring like a kid in love at Billie, that I didn't even realize they had finished their speech until I made eye contact with ocean-blue eyes. We walked off together, me trailing slightly behind the siblings.

"Congratulations Billie," I whispered in her direction before quickly making my way back to my seat.

——

The night seemed to drag on. The awards seemed a lot shorter when I was sat comfortably in my own home. But finally, finally, they were over. "Hey, baby we're going to the party right?" Matthew asked. I looked at him confused. "You know, the after-party?"

"Oh. Right. Sure yeah." He nodded his head happily and pulled me out of my seat to go get dressed in something more suitable for a party. I don't even know what I'm to do at this party. I can't legally drink, everyone here is much older and more famous than me. I'm gonna feel so out of place, and it won't help that Matt will just be vlogging everything.

Sighing I put on a tight sparkly top with matching dress pants. I look kinda hot. "Hey Al, you ready?" I hear from the bedroom. "Yup!"

We make our way down to the lobby and out the door into the car. Here we go.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #finneas #matt sturniolo #x reader

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