#does she have some beef against them?

[deus-ex-mona]

such is the tale of a ✨chronically online hypocrite✨

[thedevotionaltour]

karen is MY special white woman. my problematic fave. because i understand why she sucks. i think in order to be allowed to be a karen fan you have to actually understand why she sucks. if you don't understand why she sucks then you're a bad karen fan i think.

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[knightjpg]

Brick by Brick

You have his favourite tea on hand. You ask him what he'd like for dinner this weekend. One time you opened the door for him within seconds of buzzing, like you'd been as eager for his visit as he was.  And maybe most devastating of all: you routinely start making too much food for even Simon to finish. 

tags: 🔞construction worker simon/neighbour reader, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), size kink, brief mention of simon's childhood abuse

part 1 | part 2

After that things shift, just a little. You still sit with Simon while he works, handing him tools he teaches you the names of; still try to convince him to get pay for his work around the house. 

But you have his favourite tea on hand. You ask him what he'd like for dinner this weekend. One time you opened the door for him within seconds of buzzing, like you'd been as eager for his visit as he was. 

And maybe most devastating of all: you routinely start making too much food for even Simon to finish. 

“Thought you might want some leftovers for lunch,” you tell him, holding out two tupperware boxes. “If you're working those long hours you have to eat right, you know?” 

When Simon opens them at home, just before tucking them away in his work bag for tomorrow, his chest clenches. It's not just leftovers. There's dried beef jerky, a pack of crackers that go well with coffee, and a fist-sized chunk of banana bread. And— 

A little note. 

His heart hammers against his chest when he unfolds it. It's nearly dark out, crickets chirping soft and low somewhere beneath the window. The only sound in his kitchen is the ticking of a clock. 

Good luck today! Don't work too hard :)  

“Christ,” he mumbles, fingers tracing over the ink. Pretty. Like you. Like every fucking thing you do. 

Summer is nearing its end, and Simon is running out of excuses. Part of him feels proud to see the house shape up to the best it can be, but over the months the boxes have nearly all disappeared. He knows—has helped you unpack God knows how many books. Helped you put together a new bookcase, even. 

But if he's no longer useful, what's keeping you from closing your door on him? Dread rises sharp and fast in Simon's throat when he thinks about a dark, cold home waiting for him as his only company. He passes your door on the way home, more often than not sees your silhouette against the warm light of your window. Illuminating the hard dirty edges of him.  

You've started feeding him, this big mean watchdog, and he might choke on his leash if you stop now. 

“Hello, what is that?”   

Simon sharply yanks his lunch away from Johnny's grabby paws.  

“None f’your business.” 

“Is that bloody banana bread? You've got to be fuckin’ me.” 

“That's homemade,” Kyle says unhelpfully from just behind Simon's shoulder. 

“Piss off,” Simon grumbles. 

Johnny does not, of course, piss off. Instead he grins, cheeky and wide. “Didn't know y’had a bird, Simon.” 

“Fuck,” Kyle groans. “Is that roast beef? That smells so good. Where'd you get this?” 

Johnny snorts. “More like who's he blackmailin'.” 

Simon glowers at Johnny, then says through a mouthful, “My girl.” 

If there'd been any hope of them dropping it, it's gone now. Simon realises his mistake as soon the words leave his mouth and Kyle and Johnny light up.  

They're incessant. Dog him at every opportunity—who is she? What's her name? What's she look like? Show us a photo, Simon, dinnae be so selfish. 

Simon suffers it for a week until he slams his gloves on Price's table and threatens someone's going to end up in the cement mixer by the end of the day if he doesn't do something about it. 

They quiet down after that, though they can't help but ask after you every now and then—even Price, who despite his congratulatory shoulder clap admits he wishes he had a sweet thing of his own. 

And the lunches keep going. As do the notes, every one of which Simon keeps carefully tucked away in a box at home. He didn't find one last night, and he suppresses the wave of disappointment. Maybe you forgot. Maybe you were just tired, and maybe he's grown too comfortable with your casual affection. 

So when a little piece of paper that was stuck to the bottom of the lid flutters onto the ground the next day Simon is unprepared. The two seconds of surprise cost him—Johnny dives after it like a hawk and scoops it before it's barely touched the concrete. 

“You little shit—” 

Simon's at him immediately, and Johnny, delighted by what he thinks is a funny fucking little game, twists and dodges while fumbling the note open with one hand. 

“Looking forward to dinner tonight. Be safe today,” Johnny reads before Simon snatches it from him with a hard shove to his head. “Aww, Simon, you lucky shite. C’mon, give us one o’ those cookies, aye? If you're goin’ home to a candle lit dinner.” 

“Get your own cookies,” Simon huffs, and curls one arm around his tupperware protectively while he eats. 

Looking forward.   

So is he. 

- 

“Simon!” 

Simon whips his head around and catches you stepping out of your car with a wave. You've arrived home just after him today, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees your dress flutter prettily around your legs. 

You're dressed up all nice today—must've been at university, then. Simon doesn't know which he likes better: the shorts you wear at home or the glimpse of cleavage he gets when you wear a nice work blouse. 

His dick throbs when he holds his own hand up in greeting, hanging back just to get those few extra seconds with you.  

He's not sure why today is especially bad. Probably doesn't help that every time he jacks off in the shower you're the one he thinks of, imaging your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. It's hard to resist the indulgence after a long hard day of sweating and laying brick, then coming home and only getting to look, not touch. He doesn't want to stain you with his filth, but what's he supposed to do? He wants you. 

And his desire has sat festering in the confines of his rib cage for months. It curls his hands in tight fists so he doesn't reach for you by accident the way he does in his dreams, keeps him from leaning in to taste your lips to see if they're as sweet as your cobbler pies. 

“Alright?” he asks when you get closer. You feel off, distant, and when you nod it feels like it's more for his sake than for the truth of it. 

“Yeah. Um.” You adjust the strap of the bag on your shoulder, shifting on your feet. “I wanted to let you know I can't do dinner tomorrow. I'm, um, I have a date, so...” 

The spin of the world stutters for a second.  

Simon sucks in a quiet breath. “That so.” 

“Yeah.” You look up at him with a sad little smile. Not the kind of face you'd expect from someone who just scored a date, but Simon is too wrapped up in his misery to notice. “How was your day?” 

Normal. Unsuspecting. Good, even, until you told him some twat is taking you out to dinner.  

“Fine,” he hears himself say. Adds, “Watchin’ a match tonight.”  

An excuse—an out for both of you. You won't have to feel obligated to ask him if he'd like to come ‘round for a meal, and he won't have to pretend he doesn't feel like throwing up. 

“Go Manchester,” you reply with a smile. 

Just like Simon, they don't score. 

- 

He waits up for you. It's pathetic, really—that of all things this is what gets him to dig around for a pack of smokes. Been mostly clean ever since you moved in next to him, his half-hearted attempts to quit finally mounting up to something with real resolve. 

He doesn't want to taste nicotine when he eats your meals. 

Even threw out his lighter. Which means when he finds a crushed, dust-caked pack with only one cigarette in it behind his couch he has to light it with a match and shaky hands. 

It tastes awful. But it's familiar, and sometimes he craves the burn even when he sees his dad putting out his own cigs on Simon's legs behind his eyelids. 

The evening grows colder around him, late summer skies tinted with dark purples and blues. It's quiet in the neighbourhood. He's the only one out this late—everyone else has retreated to the comfort of their homes, ready to turn in for the night. 

It should feel peaceful, but all Simon feels is anxious and on edge. Not even the smoke calms his nerves. 

Should he back off, leave you to the happiness you deserve? Throw everything away in one last shot, ask to take you out like he's wanted to forever? 

Words are no good, but he's tried so desperately to show you that he'd do just about anything if you asked. To let you know that underneath his gruff silences he doesn't bite the hand that feeds him and that he'd rip anyone else to shreds for raising a finger against you. 

Simon's head lifts when his ears pick up the rumbling of a car. Is it...? 

It is. 

Lamplight flashes over the cobbled street, and then the rumble of the engine turns off with a click. 

You're alone—thank God. Simon doesn't know what he would've done if you'd taken your date home. 

You look worn out, and not the happy kind after a successful lay. Just tired—to the point where you almost don't notice him and jump when you do. You take a startled step back from his hulking silhouette leaning against the stone little fence curling around all the houses along the street you share, before pausing and asking in a soft voice: 

“Simon?” 

And because he's a masochist he asks, “Y’have fun?” 

He expects a yes. At best a non-committal shrug—at worst an enthusiastic smile. But you look down at your shoes, chew your lip, and say, “No.” A breath. “No. It was awful. He was a twat, and he tried to feel me up under the table, and he's been hounding me at university for months, and I got so sick of it I just said yes but now I'm going to have to email HR and ugh—!”  

Your voice breaks on the last sentence and you sniffle, turning your face away from Simon so you can give it a quick wipe with the back of your hand. 

He's up on his feet in an instant, trying to take slow breaths so he doesn't act on the overwhelming urge to hunt down the wankstain and crush his fingers so he can never fucking touch you again. Your dog bites without warning or remorse, and everything in him wants to show your sad excuse of a date just how sharp his teeth are. 

But he can't. You're hurting, and that's more important than breaking some bloke's nose. 

And so Simon tries for softness as much as he's capable of it, large scarred hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder. It's all the coaxing you need to lean into his touch, and when Simon shifts a little closer your head falls on his shoulder. He burns with a different kind of fire. 

“Sorry,” you sniffle. “I'm okay, I really am, it was just such a—such a—” 

“S’alright,” Simon rasps. He pets your hair and strokes your back with a clumsy touch, unsure of how far he should, can, is allowed to go. “Y’should've called me. Would've come t’pick you up, maybe sock him a new one.”  

He'd do more than that if you'd let him. He'd take you home and made sure the only time you cried was when he worked his fat cock inside you. 

Christ, he's going to hell. 

“I didn't want to bother you,” you say in a small voice. 

“Sweetheart. You're never botherin’ me.” You let out a shaky sigh, and Simon tucks your head under his chin a little more securely. “Woulda made sure y’got home safe.” 

It's quiet, then, save for the sound of a car driving away somewhere down the road. Simon doesn't say anything else. He doesn't want to break the spell that you're under. You feel so soft in his arms, his sweet bird, finally come home to where you belong. 

“I kept wishing it was you.” Your voice is so soft he almost doesn't catch it, but before he can process it you pull yourself out of his embrace, cursing under your breath. “Sorry. Sorry—forget I said that. I'm... I'm gonna go home.” 

Simon's hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You stare at him with big wet eyes that has the pit of his stomach swoop low. 

“Y’wish it was me?” 

His voice is low and rough, strained with want. 

Your cheeks burn and you avert your eyes, though you don't pull your hand away. “Sorry. Ignore me, I'm just...” 

“I'll take you,” Simon says a little too quickly. “Anywhere you wanna go. Dinner. Movies.” He pauses, trying to remember what people do for fun. “The library.” 

There. You hiccup a little laugh, finally, and the beginnings of a smile tug at your mouth. 

“The library?” 

Simon smiles a little, too. “Anywhere you want,” he repeats. Even the fucking library. 

Your gaze drops to your hands, and you carefully turn your palm against his. “I think I'd like that.” 

Simon swallows and lets his fingers intertwine with yours. “Yeah?” 

“I don't really care where we go, though. If it's with you.” 

Jesus bloody Christ. 

“Okay,” Simon says, voice tight. “Alright. We'll—we'll figure it out. We'll go somewhere.” A breeze hits you as he says it, and you shiver. “...Right now let's just get you home.” 

You nod, the fatigue overtaking your features again. Simon walks you all the way to your door, squints against the night sensor he installed himself. 

You hover in the doorway before opening your mouth, closing it, then take a small step forward to rise on your toes. Simon's heartbeat kicks up under your hand where you steady yourself on his chest, and then he feels your lips press against his cheek. It's his bad one, the one with the nasty scar from a bar fight long ago. 

“Thanks,” you say softly. 

“Yeah,” he manages, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. “’Course.” 

The door closes with a soft click.  

- 

When you mention wanting to hike out on a trail nearby Simon, true to his word, makes it happen. It's not so bloody hot anymore and it's nice, hearing the birds chirp overhead. Nice to exist in a world where everything is washed in shades of mottled green, hearing the dirt crunch under his feet.  

It relaxes him. Makes his muscles untense. You promised him a picnic at the end of the trail, and to Simon's delight he succeeds in coaxing you to feed him bites of your homemade sandwiches in the midst of tall grass and meadow flowers. 

When you get home, sweat and sun lingering on your skin, Simon has full intentions of dropping you off at your doorstep and wishing you a good night. Maybe get another kiss if he's lucky. 

And he does—but you linger, soft lips hovering over his cheek. His fingers curl and uncurl against his sides, waiting and wondering. 

“Please kiss me?” you breathe on his skin, and that's all it takes. 

He surprises himself with the intensity of it, but fucking hell, he's wanted you for so long. His shoulders hunch, neck bent low, and he slots his mouth over yours. Your little fingers grab at his shirt for balance, and he pushes you against your doorframe. Every time he pulls away you make a small noise of protest and chase his lips, and though Simon hasn't had a drop of alcohol today he feels well on his way to hammered. 

“Do you want to—please come inside—?” 

Simon groans and rests his forehead against yours. Fuck. “I want to—want t’do this right,” he rasps. 

You exhale with a shaky breath. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glittering like stars. Simon's stomach lurches at seeing you want him. “Right, um. Of course. I just—I've thought about... about you. For a—a really long timmf—” 

Simon groans into your mouth. He cups your cheeks, one hand sliding to hold you at the back of your neck. A sweat breaks out along his spine when he imagines you at night, in your bedroom, fucking yourself with your little fingers. Whimpering his name... 

“Yeah? Y’want me to take you to bed, sweetheart?” he murmurs, and you shiver. 

The two of you barely make it past the door until Simon is stealing the breath from your lungs again. He's wanted this for so long it's a little hard to stop, even if it's to break apart for air. Miraculously you seem to want it as much as he does, seem as desperate for his touch as he is for yours. 

When has anyone wanted him this bad? When has he ever felt like he'd die on the spot if he didn't get inside you right the fuck now? 

He doesn't need to ask you where the bedroom is. This place has felt his touch almost as much as yours, has shaped up into a cosy little home that is part of him, too. Like he wants to be part of you. 

Simon simply scoops you up and carries you straight to bed, forgetting to be gentle when he deposits on the mattress. His head is buzzing, his heart is thundering, and he needs you now.  

Fortunately you don't seem to mind much. Your hands immediately fly to his belt, tug at the metal impatiently, then fumble with his zipper with trembling hands. Simon pulls your top over your head, throws it somewhere on the floor without a care followed by his own. 

“Lie back,” he husks, and makes quick work of your trousers. Pauses just for a second to take in the growing wet patch of your panties. 

“Simon,” you whine softly. 

He drops to his knees and slides his large hands over your thighs, transfixed. He smooths over the goosebumps on your legs, presses a kiss to your knee. 

“Want me t’take these off?” he rasps, snapping the band of your panties. You lift your hips in silent assent. Simon helps you shimmy off your underwear and suppresses a moan when a string of sticky arousal clings to the fabric—then follows it right to the source. 

You gasp when he kisses your folds before gently spreading them with big warm fingers. “Sweet little cunt,” Simon mutters, and then he goes to town. 

He starts with slow, wet licks, feeling out what you like and what's too much. He keeps it light for a while just to feel you squirm and to hear your breathing turn ragged, then backs off just when your knees start trembling. He smiles when you whimper his name with a desperate little “please". 

“Such good manners.” His breath washes over your clit, and your hips try to twitch away from him. “Proper sweetheart, yeah?” 

It's great fun, playing with you, but his cock is throbbing painfully and he's leaking everywhere, and he very much intends for you to end the night feeling so blissed out you let him sleep next to you. 

So Simon hoists you closer, hooks your thighs over his shoulder, and sucks on your clit until you're sobbing his name. He holds your hips down by splaying one big hand over your stomach because you're a sensitive little thing, bucking away from him when he's not nearly done with you yet.  

It's cute, seeing you lose yourself to the pleasure. It's also really fucking hot. Simon slowly pushes one finger in you and groans when you clench around him. 

“Simon,” you whimper. “Oh, please, please—” 

Such a good girl, begging without him telling you to. Simon crooks his finger, and your next breath is a stutter of moans before your whole body tenses and you cum on his tongue. 

Simon hums approvingly, keeping his motions slow and steady so you ride it out all the way. When you whine and wriggle away from him he lets up, wiping at your slick covering his chin. 

Best meal you've cooked him by far. 

“Oh,” you sigh. “That was... Give me—give me a minute...” 

Simon chuckles and rises from his knees to crawl over you and steal a kiss. “Feelin’ good, princess?” 

“Princess—” you let out a breathless laugh, but even in the low light of your nightstand lamp Simon sees the colour rise in your cheeks. Liked that, did you? You blink up at him, a sweet satisfied smile on your lips. “Mhm. So good. Come here?” 

Your hands trail over his sides, stroke over the light hair trailing down his stomach. Simon shudders when your knuckles brush over his cock and he shucks off his trousers further to give you better access. 

When you wrap your hand around him he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and moans. The twitch of his hips is involuntary, too desperate to chase his pleasure to stay put. 

“Next time,” you whisper while pulling him forward, spreading your legs wider to fit around his hips, “I want to feel you in my mouth.” 

“Jesus,” he groans. It takes everything in him to not just slide in. “We need a condom?” 

“I'm clean,” you murmur against his jaw. “On birth control. If you want we can—” 

“Fuck yeah I do,” Simon says, and you laugh. Soft eyes when your hands slide over his shoulders, brush through the short hair on his neck. Simon watches your face while he lines himself up without blinking, and he's rewarded with the flutter of your eyelashes, the parting of your soft lips. 

Your brows scrunch together at the first few inches, and he kisses you sweetly to make you relax. Simon knows he's not small, and he groans when you clench around him. 

“Good girl,” he whispers against your hair. “Good girl. Just like that, yeah? Takin’ it real well. Just like that.” 

He slides in a little deeper. You shiver and mewl and beg him for more, and he gives it to you. Anything you want.  

“Simon,” you whimper. “Feels so—oh, you feel so good. More, please, please—?” 

Simon brushes the hair from your forehead, keeping his thrusts long and slow and making sure to kiss your cervix each time, just because your breath stutters so prettily every time he does. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, you're so—such a tight little cunt. Couldn't wait any longer, could you? Jus’ had to have me?” 

You nod immediately and empathically, eyes glassy with arousal. You try to answer him, but the only thing you manage are airy moans that sound like his name. 

That's alright. Don't need to talk. He knows what you want to say; he feels the same. Simon catches you in a messy kiss while lacing his fingers with yours. Yours. Mine.  

He shoves his free hand between your two bodies and finds your clit, circling it until he's found the right rhythm that has tears gathering in your eyes. He could live on that for the rest of his life, of hearing you mindlessly stuttering his name while your body tenses up and your head drops back and those pretty lips part in a choked moan— 

“Christ,” Simon grits through his teeth, sweat dampening his brow. Your cunt flutters around him, soft little flower in full bloom that, with another thrust or two, has him falling apart as well. 

Both of you moan at the feeling of his cum spurting hot and thick in your waiting womb. Simon rocks against you slowly to make sure you get every last drop—birth control or not. 

He kisses you on the comedown. You melt into his touch, butter and honey, running your fingers through his hair until Simon shifts you around so you're curled up against him. 

In another minute he'll get up and get you a washcloth before tucking you in and kissing your bare shoulders. He'll wrap himself around you before sleep takes you, make sure that he's the last thing you see and hear and touch. 

For now he lets himself bask in the present. In having a sweet little bird clinging to him for comfort and giving him more than he could ever ask for in return. 

Simon doesn't think you quite realise what you've gotten yourself into, in giving this big ugly watchdog your affection. He's not a king or a prince; not even a knight, not like the ones you read so much about. Simon wouldn't exactly call himself chivalrous or genteel. 

But he's just as devoted and twice as vicious. He'll belong to you, and you to him, and from the moment he saw you he was oath-bound. 

He'll have to steal a ring or two to measure which size is right. It'll take some work to knock down the walls between your two houses, but he'll ask the lads for help. Simon knows you'll win them over right away if you cook dinner or bake them something sweet. 

And maybe in time he'll have to try his own hand at baking. He always did want to put a bun in the oven, and Simon just knows that if you're the one to do it with him— 

It'll come out perfect. 

[cloudybarnes]

Busy Bee

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader

Summary: you may have accidentally fallen asleep on draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them

Word Count: 2.6k+

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

“Blaise, move your big arse away from my comfy spot.”

You had a tiring day of classes, and wanted nothing more than to just relax for the rest of the night. You had gone back to the Slytherin common room to hopefully see some of your friends and just wind down for the night. 

Everyone in Slytherin knew there was one special spot on the lounge couch that was reserved for you. You had spent countless hours and dozens of nights in that exact spot either studying or just hanging out with friends. That was your spot, and when you came into the common room, everyone knew to make way for it. 

Blaise chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, (Y/N), didn’t realize you’d be back so early.”

“Early?” You exclaimed as you jumped into your spot. “I’ve been busting my butt all morning for these stupid exams. I’m exhausted.”

Pansy groaned from her spot on the floor. “Why don’t you just cut yourself a break once in a while? It’s no fun when my best friend is too busy for, like, anything anymore.”

You frowned. “I’m not too busy for you! I’m here now, aren’t I?” You grabbed a blanket from the stockpile you kept in the common room, and wrapped yourself tight in it. 

Pansy rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just in time to hear about the latest shit with Emma.” 

Pansy had a wild grudge against this poor Hufflepuff girl who didn’t even know that Pansy was beefing with her. It was quite funny, honestly, but you loved Pansy enough to let her moan on about what annoying thing Emma does everyday. 

“Oh goody.” Draco came out from the stairwell into the common room with a roll of his eyes. “Another go round of how insufferable you think that Hufflepuff is.” 

He glanced over to see you cocooned in your blanket and let out a soft laugh. Draco took his seat next to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you. 

Draco intrigued you. Over the last year, the two of you had grown quite close. You considered Draco a good friend, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish it were more. Draco was kind. He was flirtatious and charming, but he was sweet and gentle with you as well. Sometimes you thought Draco may have feelings for you in return, but you were far too scared to confront him about it. 

“Well, for starters, we already know how much of a know it all she is, but for some reason she has to showboat just how smart she is. You’d think she was a Ravenclaw what with how obsessed she is with being correct.” Pansy said. 

Blaise started to respond to her squawking when Draco shifted closer to you. Blaise’s voice drifted away as you focused your attention to Draco. 

“You alright, Dray?” You asked. 

He smiled slightly. “Yeah, just trying to get comfortable. Salazar knows Pansy will be talking about this nonsense for hours.” 

Draco dropped his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder and pull you into him. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, silently hoping Draco couldn’t feel the intensity of it. 

You tried to hide the grin threatening to break out on your lips as you snuggled closer to his chest. This was definitely a first for you guys. Though you and Draco had been quite flirty, he’d never been so open with his physical touch before. 

“Then she had the nerve to choose me as her partner. Like I would ever consider her!” Pansy glanced over at you and did a double take when she saw you wrapped up in Draco. Her eyes grew slightly, but she averted them with a clear of her throat as to not make it obvious. 

“And then, she had the audacity-“

“She really is quite obsessed with this hufflepuff, huh?” Draco whispered to you, quiet enough for Pansy not to hear. 

You looked up at him. His face was so close to yours, your noses were practically touching. You bit your lip as a smile threatened your face. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back as you stared into his eyes. “Leave her be though, it keeps her entertained.”

Draco chucked, his minty breath hitting your face due to your close proximity. Your own breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how close you were to him. You could feel your stomach doing cartwheels as you took in all of his glorious features up close. The glimmer in his eyes, the point of his nose, the curve of his lips. 

“I didn’t see you earlier,” Draco shifted the conversation, pulling your gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “What were you doing all day, busy bee?”

You blushed at the nickname. “I was just in the library writing up essays and study guides for our finals.” You let out a yawn, the reminder of your morning making you realize just how exhausted you were. 

“Sleepy?” Draco murmured in your ear.

You nodded your head with a mumbled ‘yes’, then rested your head on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm tight around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. With his other hand, he softly combed his fingers through your hair.

You hummed as you closed your eyes. “You’re comfy,” you sleepily mumbled. 

Draco chuckled. His fingers brushed against your cheeks every once in a while as he gently continued combing through your hair. 

As you felt yourself falling asleep, you could hear Draco shushing Pansy and Blaise to ensure they didn't wake you. 

✰  ✰  ✰

The next morning you wake in your bed, unsure of how you got there. You must have gone up sometime in the night and just not remembered. 

With a shrug, you stood up and stretched your arms over your head. Pansy was snoring in the bed next to you. You tiptoed over to her and gently shook her awake. 

“Pansy,” you called as you shook her some more. “Come on, babe, time to wake up.” 

She just grumbled and swatted your hand from her shoulder. You huffed. Pansy was terrible in the mornings, and for some reason unknown to you, she didn’t believe in alarm clocks so you got stuck waking her up every morning. 

A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk you jumped on top of her sleeping body. 

“Ahh!” She shouted as you frantically shook her awake.

“It’s wake up time, Pans! We’ve got to get ready for our charms exam this fine, beautiful morning.” You said with a laugh. 

Pansy sat up and pushed you off of her so you laid on the bed instead. “Geez,” she grinned as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. “Who knew a night with Draco would make you so chipper this morning.”

You sat upright in crisscross as your smile fell. “Wait, what?”

You had spent the night with Draco? But that didn’t make sense, you woke up by yourself in your own bed. Plus, you would have remembered if something had happened between the two of you. 

Pansy saw your confused expression and chuckled. She grabbed a pillow and gently swatted you in the face with it. “Not like that, you silly. Salazar knows if you slept with Draco you’d have probably died of happiness.”

“Hey!” You whined as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. “I’m not that crazy for him.” 

“Oh, please,” Pansy scoffed with a slight smile. “I saw the way you cuddled up with him last night. I almost had a heart attack for you when I saw how close you were! Go (Y/N), go (Y/N)!” She cheered. 

You laughed and pushed Pansy away from you. “Shut up!” Your giggles died down as you recalled how you laid with him last night. “Was it really that obvious?”

“Girl please! I thought Draco was gonna scoop you up and run away with you. You should have seen the look on his face when you fell asleep on him. He looked at you like you hung the damn stars in the sky.”

Your heart fluttered. You knew there was something going on with you and Draco, but by the way Pansy was talking, though she had a knack for exaggeration, it sounded like he really did have a thing for you. 

“So, what do I do now?” You asked as you slightly rocked back and forth on her bed. 

“Are you joking?” Pansy deadpanned at you. “(Y/N/N), you gotta go get your man! I’m tired of watching you two drool like little puppies over each other just for nothing to come out of it.” 

Your cheeks flushed. It had been a long time of this back and forth with Draco, and you decided you were ready to see where it got you. 

“Okay, I’m gonna tell him next time I see him.” You said. 

Pansy cheered. “Yes, finally! Now hurry up, I’ll help you pick a cute outfit that has ‘date me’ written all over it.” 

You chuckled as Pansy eagerly jumped up and ran to your closet. She grabbed your shortest skirt, a white button up top, and your Slytherin robes. 

“Pans, how is this any different than my usual outfit?” You asked as you stood from the bed and joined her near the closet. 

“Ah, my sweet (Y/N), it’s not about the clothes you wear, but how you wear them.” She grinned as she threw the clothes into your hands. “Put them on so I can work my magic.”

You chuckled and stripped out of your pajamas to put on your school outfit. Turning back to Pansy, you said, “Okay, now what?” 

She devilishly grinned. Pansy pulled your skirt even higher up your legs to expose just a bit more of the skin there. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt and fixed your boobs so they popped out a little bit more. She wrapped the robe around your shoulders, but let the front open so you could see everything underneath. 

“And no tie,” she added, “that way your shirt can stay that way.”

You chuckled. “You get me into all these crazy shenanigans, you know that right?” 

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah,” you added wearily, “but what if it’s too much? I mean, we still have to go to class. It’s not like I'm only going to see Draco.”

“Who cares?” Pansy asked as she started to dress herself in a similar manner. “Let the other boys stare and show Draco that you’re a hottie who other boys can get at if he decides he’s gonna be a wuss today.”

You laughed. Pansy always knew just how to make you feel better. “Alright, let’s get out there, then. Don’t wanna keep all the boys waiting.” You winked at her. 

Pansy smirked and wrapped her arm with yours. You walked out together and down to your first class that you shared. 

Luckily for you, Draco did not share the same period for charms as you. You thought if Draco was in the class you would have surely failed your final. 

You felt pretty confident in your answers, and soon enough class was dismissed. 

Your heart beat out of your chest as you said your goodbyes to Pansy and walked to your next class: one you shared with Draco. 

Nervously, you picked at your clothes as you walked to potions. On your way there, you couldn’t help but notice all of the random students staring at you. Boys, and girls, sneaked peaks at you as you walked past them. 

It felt nice to be noticed, you just hoped Draco would react in a similar way. 

Speak of the devil.

There Draco stood in all his glory. He leaned against the wall outside of the potions room looking you up and down. Draco’s lip was trapped between his teeth and he sized you up. 

“Bloody hell, (Y/N).” Draco mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear over your rapidly-beating heart. 

Draco pushed himself off the wall and started walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He didn’t say anything. All he could do was stare. Draco knew you were gorgeous; he’d be a bloody fool to not have noticed it before, but there was something about the way you looked that made his head spin. 

While he shouldn’t say it, Draco had always imagined how you would look after he’d had his way with you. He didn’t ever want to seem like a creep, you were too sweet for that, but that just made him more curious. 

In all honesty, he didn’t know you had this in you. 

“Uh, Draco?” You asked. Draco had zoned out as he stared at you. You could feel your cheeks getting warm and you took in how awestruck he looked. 

“Hm?” He glanced back up into your eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart, you just- you just look incredible. Well, you look gorgeous everyday, just you look gorgeous and sexy if that makes sense.” 

You raised an eyebrow almost teasingly. “Oh, so you think I look sexy now, huh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you liked the way Draco’s eyes widened as you crossed your arms over your chest, pushing your boobs out ever so slightly.

Once he recovered, a smirk adorned his handsome face. “I always think you look sexy, now I'm just seeing it in person rather than my dreams. And speaking of dreams,” Draco grinned devilishly, “how did you sleep last night, darling?” 

You had almost forgotten about the confusion of the night. “I slept well. I think.” You chuckled as you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t exactly remember getting to bed, though. Care to enlighten me?” 

Draco chuckled, “You fell asleep, quite adorably I might add, and I as the gentleman I am had the privilege of carrying you up the stairs and tucking you in for the night.” 

You smiled, “how come you didn’t just wake me?”

Draco’s cheeks tinged pink. “I, uh, I just knew how tired you were from your morning and I didn’t want to disturb you. Hope that was okay.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. 

You grinned and reached up to squeeze his arm. “It was really sweet of you, Draco.” 

The two of you stared at each other for a minute, the silence held some tension, it had some longing imbedded into it. 

“Draco…” 

“Do you want to go out sometime?” Draco cut you off. 

You gaped at him. “Like a date?”

Draco smiled, “yeah, exactly a date. I knew I’ve liked you for a little while, (Y/N), but when you cuddled up against me last night, I had this thought that I wanted to do it again. And then again after that too. You held onto like you needed me, and, uh, I really liked that.”

Draco blushed a little at his confession and shuffled his feet around nervously. 

You couldn’t help but grin and wrap your arms tight around his neck. Draco was a little taken aback by your quick movement, but surely sunk into your hug and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“I’d love to go out with you, Dray,” you whispered as you were pressed so close to him. “I’ve been hoping you would ask me out for a long time.”

Draco pulled away, but still held his hands on your waist. “Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, darling.”

You giggled and grabbed Draco’s hands to pull him towards the classroom. “Come on, Slughorn doesn’t wait for anyone and I need to do good on this exam.”

Draco chuckled and let you pull him along to class. He couldn’t wait to finally take you out on a date. 

[greencheekconure27]

hey what's your beef with peta? if it's that they operate "kill shelters" you might want to read the newsweek fact check https://www.newsweek.com/fact-check-peta-responsible-deaths-thousands-animals-1565532 (tldr: "Just as a hospice has a high mortality rate, so does a shelter that takes in those near end-of-life, feral, aggressive, dying and discarded animals." "Cherry-picking animals to only allow in the most adoptable at shelters with limited admission (otherwise known as 'no-kill') policies doesn't help and often leads to people dumping animals, or neglecting them in other ways,")

Oh no it's so much more than that.Constant spreading of pseudoscience and misinformation, ableist campaigns (such as "drinking milk causes autism", racist and antisemitic campaigns (comparing pig farming to the Holocaust for instance), sexist campaigns under the guise of feminism (veganism is feminist because cows have a womb they are women too) more misinformation and pseudoscience, financial scams, at least one instance of abducting someone's beloved and cared for pet to euthanize it, harassment, using emotional manipulation on children ("your mommy is a murderer because she eats meat" etc), harassing and breaking into zoos and research labs , frequently killing the wild animals they rescue, that one bullshit monkey photograph lawsuit, being against ALL animal agriculture and hunting EVERYWHERE, being opposed to pets (yes cats and dogs too), actually paying people to abuse farm animals for staged videos, cultish behavior,absolutely insane ideas, and oh, misinformation and pseudoscience.

As to kill shelters, it's the lies and the hypocrisy that bothers me, because these are the same fucking people who will insist they're doing good by keeping animals alive when they have no quality of life to speak of anymore. One moment they're gushing over some poor piglet born without trotters or blind legless bird being kept alive and miserable for months, the next they're all pro euthanizing healthy animals en masse, all while they collect donations for both.

I know a lot of people donate to them in good faith but don't. Even if you are vegan. They're not doing anything good with that money.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi babe! would you be interested in writing something for remus where his gf is totally badass and kind of like a spitfire but the second she's home from work, she's kinda melting into remus and he eats it up?

"No, I am not coming back in! Are you kidding me?" You blow a kiss to Remus as you shoulder the door shut, dropping your keys into the plate near your door.

"No. I'm not leaving my house again, driving two hours in this traffic to come back to sign some papers. Leave it there or come by my place to drop it."

Remus shakes his head, a hidden smile on his face as he pulls dinner from the oven. He knows exactly what is going to happen after this

“Are you kidding me? I gave specific instructions on what to do, how could they possibly mess that up?” You’re seething as you step into your front door. 

You’d had a day at the office and even on the drive home you’d been on the phone giving directives and discussing strategies for a project you’re working on. 

You’re exhausted and you just want a hot bath with your boyfriend and a slice of that apple cake you’d made over the weekend for dessert. 

“No, I’m not coming back to have a meeting. We can meet tonight if it’s necessary, but I’ll be in office tomorrow.” 

Remus is sitting in the living room, reading one of his novels as you make your way over to him. 

He quirks a brow at your tone and you point to your phone rolling your eyes to get him to smile. 

He does and beckons you over, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you set your bag down and pull a pen and book from it, already scribbling some notes for the meeting- whenever it happens. 

“Okay goodbye, enjoy the rest of your day.” You’re abrupt as you end the phone call, head pounding as you sigh. 

“Hi baby,” he coos, eyes crinkling as you flop into his arms, burying your face in his chest. “Long day?” 

You nod, mewling as you say, “So long Remmy.” Remus always wants to laugh at the way you sort of melt like ice cream on a hot day when you’re home from work. 

He’s well aware of your bright, no-nonsense attitude at work and in general, but when it’s you and him you’re his baby and he loves it. 

Remus eats it up, loves every second of you needing him like you do. 

“I’ve made beef stir-fry for tea. And I ordered the saucy shrimp you like.” 

He feels you smile against his chest, then you lift your chin and kiss the underside of his jaw. 

“Thanks Rem.” Your phone rings again and you groan. Remus beats you to checking the caller ID and sucks at his teeth. 

“Would ignoring Devin be a bad thing to do?” He asks, nose running along your hairline as you deliberate. 

“No,” Remus doesn’t hesitate. He clicks your phone locked and helps you further into his lap. 

“Don’t take the meeting tonight. You need an early night, you didn’t sleep till three this morning.” You look a bit bashful with your legs hooked to each of his hips and Remus laughs. You’d thought you were doing a good job at being quiet even though you’d been awake long after Remus and you had gone to bed. 

“But it’ll be so much faster because then we’ll have to decide meeting times and where’s the most ideal place.” 

Remus raises an eyebrow, “Let them do it then. You need your rest and I don’t particularly care if they struggle to fit the meeting in their schedule.” You sigh, reaching for your phone. “Just let me text them then, otherwise it’ll keep ringing.” 

He shakes his head, taking your phone from you and unlocking it. 

“Go have a shower, I’ll plate up dinner and send the text to them. Tomorrow at ten is fine for the meeting?” He asks and you nod, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

“Thanks, Remmy.” Remus pats your bum as you go, watching you with a little smile as he thinks of how he’s going to get you to bed by nine.

[hollisiguess]

im bored so y’all are getting some hazbin hcs

Alastor is aroace and agender but he does not know it he has no clue what ANY of those words mean

Rosie actually knows that Alastor is all of those but to fuck with him she doesn’t tell him however she will from time to time call him one of those (for example when she says she knows Alastor is an ace in the hole)

Alastor and Rosie are in a qpr!

Velvette and Vox are besties they will gossip about everyone and everything

Velvette is a non-binary lesbian who uses she/her

EVERYONE in hell assume that the vees are a polycule and for the chaos they never correct anyone

Velvette barely tolerates Valentino and would like to beat the shit out of him at any given time

Ok I have to restrain myself with Velvette so last one even though Vox has beef with Alastor to everyone’s shock she hangs out with him every once and a while over some tea

Lute is aroace but she and Adam are « dating » bc people kept asking Lute out would never take no for an answer and it was making her uncomfortable

Despite everything Adam does care for Lute and is a good friend towards her hence why he agreed to the fake dating plan

Vaggie before getting her wings back would get HORRIBLE phantom pain from them and whenever Charlie would ask what was up she would always dodge the questions and Charlie wanting to respect her gfs boundaries wouldn’t push to much

Vaggies love language is acts of service and Charlie’s is physical touch

Charlie ADORES Vaggies wings she thinks they make her gf even more gorgeous then she already is

Vaggie is actually insecure of her wings as they remind her of a past she’s rather forget but Charlie fawning over them does make her like her wings a bit more

If Charlie is cold Vaggie will use her wings to make her warmer

After the battle against the exorcist Vaggie went back to thank Carmilla for her help and the two got to talking and ended bonding now they meet weekly at Carmillas to practice battle together (the both enjoy it greatly) and sometimes it leads to Vaggie staying for dinner

Carmilla Carmine is essentially Vaggies mom/mentor

Vaggie bonded with Carmillas daughters and they see eachother as sisters

Charlie will sometimes head over to cannibal town to give Rosie a visit and she now calls Rosie Auntie all the time

Vaggie brought Charlie to meet Carmilla and Charlie brought Vaggie to meet Rosie (both were super nervous to meet each others respective mom/aunt figure worried they wouldn’t approve)

Husk and Cherri used to hate eachother but after Angel forced them to hang out they grew to like eachother in a I hate u and hope u die/affectionate type of way

Angel does Cherris hair and I will not elaborate

Angel can’t cook for shit and almost set the hotel on fire many times (he’s now banned from the kitchen)

Vaggie however is a great chef!

Husk taught all the members of the hotel who didn’t already know how to play poker, poker

The hotel guests now have game night which is usually the entire cast struggling while Alastor, Husk and Vaggie sweep and have a rivalry between themselves the others are trying tho!

Alastor also taught the residents chess

Nifty eats the pieces

Im not elaborating on that last one

Vaggie and Angel actually like one another (PLATONICALLY) even considering one another one of their closest friends but neither would ever admit it out loud

Alright now that that's said Angel and Vaggie have mini cooking lessons in secret (WITHOUT ANY FIRE for safety reasons ofc) so Angel can make food for his friends

Lucifer and Vaggie actually bonded a lot especially given both are fallen angels

When Lucifer found out why Vaggie was cast out and how Vaggie had to physically restrain him from (somehow don’t question how he'd even be able to get to heaven to do it) beating the shit out of Lute

Shickingly Lucifer, nifty and Husk are friends and hang out

in fact Lucifer knew Husk before the hotel and had already grown fond of him

Sir Pentious and Charlie are besties

Charlie was the first person who Sir Pentious actually told he liked Cherri (the others still knew but like he actually told Charlie)

Sir Pentious makes Alastor babysit the egg bois after the outing he had with them a while back

Sir Pentious does like Emily but she kinda makes him sad as she reminds him so much of Charlie and he cant see her anymore given she's currently in hell

Razzle was always super attached to Charlie but Dazzle wierdly enough got super attached to Vaggie making her even angrier with Lute when she killed him

Imma end the hcs here cause this is already a shit tone lol

[thebearer]

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!” 

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 

To: Carmen 

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 

So, Carmen did what he always did. 

From: Carmen 

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 

“What? Cousin, what are you-” 

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 

[aestheticaltcow]

I have asked

Ele fica todo "porra podia ter matado ela" e ela "tá tudo bem bear ☺️ você não sabia"

Sunshine Reader who works at The Beef (started working there while Carmy was working in Germany) he does not know much about her yet

Then he is making a new recipe and calls her to prove and she goes all happy, when he will put the spoon in her mouth everybody gives kitchen screams saying that he could not because he had set a thing she has allergy

He gets all "I could have killed her" and she's like is okay Bear ☺️, you did not know "

Sorry for the bad English

Hey, don't apologize for the 'bad English'. English is a very hard language. It's my only language, and it confuses me every day.

Anyway, enjoy :)

Allergic to Sunshine

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

The Bear Masterlist

“Yo, you busy?” Carmy asked as you worked at your prep station. You shook your head, “Just on veggie prep for the lunch rush.”

Carmy nodded as he stood there with his hands on his hips. He watched you chop briefly before asking, “Can you taste something for me?” 

“Sure!” you smiled, placing your knife at the top right corner of your station before following Carmy to his. You passed Marcus and Tina on the way. After cheerfully greeting the two of them and engaging in some casual small talk, Carmy put the final touches on the dish he’d wanted you to taste. 

You liked Carmy; he was pretty serious but had a plethora of culinary knowledge. When he took over The Beef the summer after Mikey died, you weren’t sure what would happen to your job. The late and great Mikey Berzatto hired you as a catch-all employee of sorts. You were a broke college student who managed to convince him to give you a chance. 

After Mikey died, you were worried Richie would downsize, but he assured you that you were family- and you don’t fire family. When the staff found out Carmy was moving back to Chicago to take over the restaurant, Richie reassured you again that ‘Mr. New York’ wouldn’t be allowed to fire you because while The Beef may have been in Carmy’s name- it was Richie’s restaurant.

Carmy changed a lot about The Beef claiming it would be more efficient and it would be the change needed to turn it from just a sandwich shop to the restaurant he wanted to create to honor Mikey. He moved you from your catch-all role to learning how to be a line cook. He’d managed to teach you some basic knife skills and cooking quickly became a way for the two of you to communicate- despite your multiple food allergies.

When you made your way to Carmy, he passed you a plate of fancy-looking dishes with a green and yellow sauce swirl. “What is this?” you questioned as you took a spoon to the dish. “Tryin’ out some sauces for a seafood risotto Syd and I have been workin’ on,” Carmy explained as he leaned against his station with his arms crossed over his chest. You nodded, and he started explaining the sauces, “The yellow is a pineapple hot sauce, and the green is pea, garlic, and chili oil-”

“Yo Cousin! Are you tryin’ to kill her? She’s allergic to everything on that plate.” Richie yelled from the other side of the kitchen. Carmy looked up at the ceiling before sighing and turning his attention to you with a dumbfounded expression plastered across his face. “You were just gonna eat that? Even though you’re allergic?” 

You shrugged, “You didn’t know I was allergic to pineapple, peas… or most shellfish.” 

You watched Carmy squeeze the bridge of his nose with one hand as he took the plate away from you with the other. “Any other allergies I should know about?” he chuckled slightly.

“Pumpkin. You didn’t know- it’s okay, Carm.” you smiled as you playfully punched his arm. Carmy shook his head as he walked away from the station, laughing about how ridiculous this situation was. You couldn’t help but blush as you walked back to your station. He was something else, but so were you.

[femmeslash]

the sinners visit a 24-hour convenience store

rodya was trying to unionize everyone in the pursuit of snacks and got pretty close (outis will NEVER acquiesce to such tomfoolery)

charon just pulls over anyway

she wants a slushie

verg isn't going to say no to charon

they're getting slushies.

fifteen people enter this convenience store all at once with the kind of dazed look you can only get upon seeing rows and rows of bright fluorescent lights and Products after being in a moving vehicle for 48 hours straight

faust just starts talking to the cashier, who is wholly unprepared to deal with [Insufferable, Chronic Lassitude]. she's just telling them information.

don quixote has never heard of an inside voice and she's not going to start now

BEHOLD, MINE COMRADES! I SHALL TAKE UPON THE CHALLENGE OF SAMPLING EACH FLAVOR OF SLUSH, AND REPORT MY FINDINGS!

she immediately gets brain freeze and is loud about that too

yi sang and hong lu are examining packaged snacks together

hong lu is reading off the ingredient labels and saying things like "oh, grandmother never allowed me to eat things that had artificial dyes in them!"

yi sang is just kinda there, concerned about hong lu's statements but too overwhelmed by the lights and colors to say anything of substance

ryoushuu is openly shoplifting

rodya gets her pile of snacks and then decides to bother gregor because she's bored again now

gregor is trying to buy cigarettes

greg babe look they got that delta 8 stuff! you wanna give it a try?

gregor is fully pretending he does not know her

he mouths "i'm sorry" to the cashier

outis is watching dante like a hawk

executive manager we must remain vigilant against threats to your person at all times, especially when the chance of an ambush against us seems low

dante has never been in a convenience store that they can remember...? but they're pretty sure outis is taking this a little too seriously

heathcliff is sizing up the hot food display

dunno what kind of madman would be too keen on eating these sad oily chips but scran's scran

he offers some to hong lu who has since wandered over

hong lu has never had chips/fries before and has no idea that you eat them with your hands

mistake.

it's a mess.

sinclair is waiting anxiously for his turn with the slushie machine as meursault methodically fills a huge cup with every single flavor they have

ishmael quickly got her preferred snacks and now is waiting passive-aggressively for everyone else to be done

the poor cashier has to come face to face with a fucking color fixer while this rodeo is occurring, because it's technically a company expense

vergilius saunters up to the counter to pay for all this crap, looking miserable and homicidal

charon got a cherry slush. red. same as verg. happy.

so it's not all bad.

it isn't until they've gotten back onto the bus and started driving that dante says <wait>

<where's yi sang?>

they find yi sang sitting in the parking lot, placidly eating a slushie of his own

the artificial watermelon flavor, cold and crisp underneath the moonlight... it has a certain charm.

ok grandpa let's get you to bed.

ryoushuu's haul includes three lighters, beef jerky, extra-strength headache medicine, root beer candy, and a large spider that was in the parking lot, which she is planning to release into faust's vicinity next time faust pisses her off

hong lu promptly gets sick from eating the disgusting fries.

[bullet-prooflove]

Good People: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Takes place after:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Prequel to:

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Everyone knows that Carmy has a thing for the farm girl. It’s the way his attention shifts when your name is mentioned, the fact it’s him signs for the orders and no one else. They watch as he asks about your day and raise their eyebrows when he stands there and actually listens.

“You may as well be giving her fuck me eyes.” Richie says as he tries to wrestle The Beef t-shirt onto an inflatable hotdog in Jimmy’s backyard.

The two of them are setting up for that ridiculous kid’s party, hoping to knock a couple of grand off the debt Mikey owed him.

“I don’t have fuck me eyes.” Carmy mutters, focusing on slicing the oranges for the homemade Ectoplasm he’s made because Unc’s kid is nuts about Ghostbusters.

“Oh you do. You fucking do.” Richie argues as he pulls out the duct tape. “It’s probably the reason we’re getting such a discount, she likes the way you shake that pasty white ass underneath that little apron of yours.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” He snaps at Richie, launching a piece of fruit at the back of  Richie’s head. It smacks him right on the dome and the other man turns to face him furious.

“What the fuck is with you?” Richie retorts, throwing it back. “Last month you got the shit kicked out of you by a guy dressed like a carrot, now you’re whoring yourself out for cucumbers. You’ve got issues man, big ones.”

Carmen really has nothing to say to that because honestly if he had to whore himself out to keep this business going, he probably fucking would. That’s exactly where his self-respect is right now, rock fucking bottom. It’s the reason he’s out here in the fucking suburbs slinging gourmet hot dogs for little monsters have no fucking clue how the real world works.

“I hate you.” He tells Richie as he throws himself back into his work the same way he always does. “I fucking hate you.”

It’s an hour later that Richie does the uncharacteristic thing and apologizes. Carmy thinks it’s probably got something to do with the Xanex he took about an hour ago.

“I shouldn’t have said that about Alice.” Richie says, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “She’s good people.”  

“Yea she is.” Carmy responds as he starts to make up another hotdog. “She’s helping us out in a bind because she’s a good person. It’s got nothing to do with my ass.”

Richie tilts his head from side to side as he pulls the bottle of Xanax out of his coat pocket and spills another tablet into his palm.

“It’s a little to do with your ass.” Richie tells him as he takes the pill, washing it down with a cup of Ecto.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carmy asks as he puts the finishing touches on his masterpiece.

“It means for some fucked up reason she likes you.” Richie responds, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why, you’re basically a fucking mop with eyes but she does and you should really do something about that.”

“Like what Richie?” Carmy retorts, turning to face him, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “I run a sandwich shop that’s failing so badly I had to pay for our meat order with change out the arcade machine thirty days ago, I’ve got jack shit to offer anyone right now.”

“I’m just saying you deserve to be happy.” Richie says as he leans back against the fold up table, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “Mikey would have wanted you to be happy.”

Carmy doesn’t know what Mikey would have wanted because Mikey, he’s not hear to tell him.

“That second Xanex just kicked in didn’t it?” Carmy remarks, changing the subject and Richie exhales, nodding his head.

“Oh yea, big time. I don’t feel a fucking thing.”

It’s on the way home, that Carmy starts to think about what Richie said, about you, about being happy.

Sitting in those fields at your farm on his days off, shooting the shit with you. It’s the closest thing to contentment he’s felt in years. If he was a better man, someone less mentally ill, he’d consider pursuing it but honestly he’s a fucking mess. He wouldn’t wish himself on any woman especially you.

“You’re punking out aren’t you?” Richie says from the passenger seat as he watches the world go by outside.

“No.” Carmy says, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “She just deserves better than an asshole like me.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[santanasaintmendes]

singapore lovin’ had me a blast 

part2! to the cosmic girl records

¡Cosmic Girl Records!

summary: going to Singapore to support your boyfriend, stealing Alex’s girlfriend and beefing with lando, nothing’s changed really 

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

fc!: gorgeous girls and couples on pinterest all credits go to rightful owners of the photos used below 

a/n: also the timeline and the whole universe in what these smau’s are based in are very different to irl, ollie’s in f1 already and he drives for ferrari, lewis is still in mercedes because it made more sense kind of? I’ll fill in the gaps as we go lol

disclaimer!: there may be some sensitive jokes that may be hurtful to some people, they are all there just for the humour and to make the story more enjoyable, please don’t come after me 😭

also i’m sorry for the english and french slander against lando and pierre it’s purely for humour😔 please don’t take the comments to heart

a/n: the lovely @yawn-zi gave me the courage to post the second part to the cosmic girl records, i hope you didn’t get in trouble for laughing during portuguese class! and a big thank you to @nichmeddarso who rebloged part1 with all those tags it was greatly appreciated!

here you go, enjoy!

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, georgerussell64, lilymhe, alex_albon and 3,849,383 others

unfortunatelyy/n: next stop, Singapore! btw, the sunset was a paid actor ❤️

tagged olliebearman 

view 2,473,282 comments 

 landonorris: for anyone who asks, it was traumatising sitting next to the two of them on the flight

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: so bitter damn 

|

 landonorris: BECAUSE WE MISSED OUR PLANE 

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: NOT MY FAULT 

|

 landonorris: IT WAS MOST DEFINITELY YOUR FAULT 

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: OKAY I’M SORRY I LEFT MY PASSPORT IN THE TAXI BUT STILL 

|

 landonorris: mhm, sure 

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: “mHm sUrE” 🇬🇧🤓☕

|

 landonorris: DIE.

|

 user1: NAH SHE DID HIM SO DIRTY 

user7: always count on y/n to keep an aesthetically pleasing instagram page 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 olliebearman: you wouldn’t be able to guess how many times she made me retake that first pic 

|

 landonorris: i can 🙄

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: BOTH OF YOU SHUSH 

 user2: does she actually have a job or does she just follow ollie around 😐

|

 user3: yes she has a job???

|

 user4: it's called taking a vacation, google it?

 lilymhe: can’t wait to see you soon bb 🥰

| 

 alex_albon: you have a boyfriend???? me??

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 unfortunatelyy/n: @alex_albon stop being so delusional you sound crazy 

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 alex_albon: @lilymhe are you really going to let her bully me 😰

|

 lilymhe: . . .

|

 alex_albon: 😦

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: the man was too stunned to speak 😱

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 alex_albon: 🖕

 user5: it’s not a y/n insta post without y/n and lily terrorising alex in the comments section 

|

 user6: and y/n and lando bickering like the 5 year olds that they are 

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 4,489,383 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: some sightseeing and exploring before the weekend with my wifey and . . .  boyfriend?

tagged olliebearman and lilymhe 

view 3,682,838 comments 

 user1: Ollie’s officially the third wheel now 😔

|

 user11: a moment of silence for another fallen soldier 🫡

i

user2: HELP THE FIRST AND SECOND PIC HAVE ME ROLLING ON THE GROUND 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 lilymhe: loved exploring with you. . . and your friend Steve!

|

 user3: HELP

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: it’s okay! he won’t be a problem after this weekend 😃

|

 olliebearman: 😦

|

 user4: homie’s traumatised 

 alex_albon: . . . it’s okay really. I’m fine. I’m fine.

| 

 user5: not alex going through all 5 stages of grief 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

|

 user6: I can’t tell which one he’s up to 

|

 user5: . . . neither can i. 

 user7: she’s STUNNING, Ollie better sleep with one eye open tonight 

|

 olliebearman: 😰

 user8: ollie on any of y/n’s insta posts after reading the comments: 😮😰😔

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 user10: literally anyone really 😭

 alex_albon: @charles_leclerc @georgerussell64 when does it end 😭 please, i’m a desperate man 

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 georgerussell64: we lied 😔

| 

charles_leclerc: it never does. 

 user9: where’s lando, it’s not a y/n post without him commenting something absurd 

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 landonorris: i have been summoned. 

| 

 user9: WHAT DID I DO 😰

 landonorris: oh so now you have a boyfriend AND a wife? 🤨

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: i thought i could finally post something without you attacking me in my comments section. I WAS WRONG. 

|

 landonorris: 🤷‍♂️

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc and 5,728,282 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: as long as i'm with you, I've got a smile on my face 

tagged olliebearman 

view 4,282,992 comments 

olliebearman: ❤️

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

user3: couple goals fr 

 user5: THE FIRST PIC I CAN’T DECIDE WHO DO WE THINK WON GUYS 

|

 user6: y/n, duh. 

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 olliebearman: unfortunately, that is correct 😔

 unfortunatelyy/n: that’s me flipping off lando in the distance in the second pic by the way 

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 landonorris: i should be getting paid for taking all these yucky photos of you guys and this is how you repay me?

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 unfortunatelyy/n: guys what do we think? Has being single finally hit him?

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 landonorris: that’s it, i’ve had enough, i’m releasing THE video 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: OH YOU WOULDN’T DARE

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 landonorris: oh yes I would, watch me. 

 user1: HELP WHAT ARE THE CHILDREN TALKING ABOUT 

|

 user9: IDK BUT I CAN’T TELL IF THEY’RE JOKING OR NOT 

user10: this turned into a war zone so quickly 

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, pierregasly, danielricciardo and 11,749,383 others

unfortunatelyy/n: and due to personal reasons, a human by the name of Lando Norris shan't be getting mentioned in any future posts, so enjoy ✨

tagged landonorris 

view 12,483,372 comments 

user1: SHE DID NOT HOLD BACK

user2: he’s such an icon fr 

user3: he’s never beating the babygirl allegations after this i'm afraid 😔

user4: “thank you y/n” they all said in unison 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 landonorris: I SAID I WAS SORRY LIKE 50 TIMES WHAT MORE DO U WANT 

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: i only accept apologies in cash 

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 landonorris: well damn no apology for you then 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: YOU’RE LITERALLY A MILLIONAIRE??? |

 landonorris: and your point?

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 unfortunatelyy/n: i hope you accidentally get a fish burger next time you go for takeout 

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 user10: oop she really went there 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: and i hope you realise after it’s too late 

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 landonorris: GASP. HOW DARE YOU

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 unfortunatelyy/n: 😃

 carlossainz55: *saves photos to camera roll 

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 landonorris: wow. 

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 carlossainz55: for memories, you know?

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 landonorris: “fOr mEmOriEs yOu kNoW?” SHUT UP YOU MUPPET, YOU’RE REALLY NO HELP YOU KNOW

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 carlossainz55: so aggressive geez 

user5: lando’s fighting for his life in the comments section

 pierregasly: lando in the third pic: UWU

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 landonorris: I- SHUT UP YOU FRENCH HO HO HO BAGUETTE BABY MAN

| 

 user8: absolutely violated 

unfortunatelyy/n: i’ve sworn to secrecy but since SOMEONE CAN’T KEEP A SECRET, i guess I can’t too. The second pic is me when i forced lando to cook fish for me, hence the disgusted face. it’s safe to say he did not talk to me for 6 months straight after 

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 user6: Y/N, professional exposer 

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 landonorris: HOW COULD YOU, YOU PINKY SWEARED I HATE YOU

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 carlossainz55: @unfortunatelyy/n: teach me your ways 🙏

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 unfortunatelyy/n: a magician never reveals their secrets, but i’m no magician so sure 

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 user 7: HELP STOP EXPOSING LANDO 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: never 😤

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 landonorris: 😭

liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 7,483,832 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: always and forever proud of you 🐻

tagged olliebearman 

view 6,382,392 comments 

 olliebearman: oh so that’s why you wanted that photo ☹️

|

 unfortunatelyy/n: sorry love! ❤️

user1: as i clicked into the notification, i thought “at last, a normal sensible post from y/n” i have never been more wrong, WHAT IS THAT SECOND PHOTO Y/N

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

user2: a relationship like theirs, it's a need not a want 

user3: from spilling pasta on her to becoming her man, talk about upgrades 😌

 kimi.antonelli: @unfortunatelyy/n what about the photo I sent for your post

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 olliebearman: WHAT PHOTO 

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 kimi.antonelli: . . . there’s no photo i have no idea what you’re talking about there’s no photo ahaha

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 arthur_leclerc: @unfortunatelyy/n what about MY photo of Ollie

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 dinobeganovic_: @unfortunatelyy/n and mine?

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 maya_weug: @unfortunatelyy/n mine?

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 olliebearman: Y/N ANSWER THEM WHAT PHOTOS 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: . . . there’s no photos are you crazy ahahah

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 user4: the gaslighting goes hard 😭

a/n: thank you everyone for the love that part 1 got! I really appreciated all the likes and reblogs that the post got, i hope you enjoyed part 2 to the cosmic girl records universe. This part was a bit shorter than the first and I have 3 more parts that i’m working on that should be out soon. Thank you and bye for now! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

also should i make a tag list for the series? 🤔

[extra-v1rgin]

The reader is a wolf hybrid written with a vagina and breasts, I don’t think there’s any direct references to gender.

Contains: Mentions of previous poor living conditions, Imprisonment (sex doesn’t occur while reader is directly imprisoned), Cunnilingus, Vaginal fingering, Vaginal Intercourse, Groping.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

“Criminal case number forty-seven.” The chains around your hands clink loudly as a guard drags you forward. “The defendant has repeatedly robbed several stands throughout the capital. Jail time has had no effect and we seek more severe punishment.”

You keep your eyes on the ground. Without your comfortable cloak you feel exposed. The fur on your arms stands on end. Your hideous appearance is revealed in the scrappy prison clothes you wear. You suppose you really do look like some sort of criminal now.

“Are you a kobold?” A loud voice rings out. The words bounce around the ornate room until they burns your ears.

You don’t speak. You don’t want to dignify his idiotic question with a response. The crown king or prince or whatever should just sentence you to death by hanging and leave you be.

The guard to your left smacks the back of your head. “Answer,” he commands gruffly.

“I’m not.” You mumble the words so softly you’re sure you’ll just be reprimanded again but the quiet words appear to be satisfactory.

“Beastkin then? Or some kind of-“

“Laios focus on your duties!”

Your eyes flick upwards to watch the… advisor or confidant- you can’t pay attention to the intricacies of royal life -scold the king. They exchange quiet words that even your sensitive ears can’t make out. When the conversation ends you bow your head once more.

“We’ll keep her in the barracks for further investigation.”

Your ears twitch but otherwise you don’t react. Music sounds from your restraints again, jingling as you’re dragged off.

—-

The cells in the castle aren’t much nicer than any of the others you’ve been in. Most are relatively similar other than the temperature inside. You’re warm here at least which is better than the wooden walls that let in every gust of wind back on the outskirts of town.

The guards are the same, quiet and rude.

You sit around for 3 days in absolute silence. All the other cells are far away enough that you don’t know who else is kept locked up. The only sounds you hear are footsteps from the floor above and murmurs from the guards. They probably think they’re being quiet but you can still hear everything the pair is saying. Mostly it’s useless gossip. You now know all about who’s fucking who and who slacks off and who is stealing extra portions at dinner.

Every once in a while you hear a murmur about the king. There’s so many rumors about him that you don’t know what to believe. You can trust the guards a little bit more but nothing they say is useful in any way.

“The guy’s fucking weird, friends are too.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s been through fifty chefs at this point. All the food tastes fine but he fires them after one week.”

“We get to eat some exotic shit though.”

“Damn right.”

All you get is the same bowl of porridge three times a day. For dinner there’s two dry slices of beef to accompany the slop. You treasure the meat though. Even if everything tastes the same having protein is a gift. You chew it slowly as if you can pull any kind of flavor out of it.

You don’t know why you’re here. You’ve already been tried for execution twice and it’s likely the third time will be the charm. It’s a miracle you’ve kept your hands this long. Most dogs get put down after their first bite.

—-

By the fifth day the guards have gotten bored enough to bother you. Their swords clang against your door. “Are you awake?”

You don’t answer but they peak through the slot in the door. “Hello? You got hearing problems?”

“No way she does, her ears are fucking giant.”

“Whaddo you think she is?”

“Why the fuck would I know? Maybe some kind of beastkin or an ogre or something.”

“How dumb are you? That’s not what ogres look like.”

While their focus turns away from you, you shrink against the wall. Your appearance has often been debated and you’ve heard just about every comparison by now. With how much you’ve heard about ogres you thought they might not mind your circumstances but they found you too human. Now you exist in a limbo with no race to call home. Even your own mother discarded you.

They murmur about a wide variety of monsters. Even you don’t recognize most of the things they list. For a place devoid of monsters the guards seem to know a lot about them.

—-

Someone slams their fists against your cell. As his face comes into view a short guard reveals himself. His nose is big and his neck is skinny. It reminds you of a bird. In response your stomach growls.

“Hands against the wall.” You obey wordlessly. There’s no point in delaying your death another day.

“You better thank the divine or whatever you believe in. His Majesty wants a personal interview before sending you to the gallows.” He laughs at the end. Though you can’t do much to retaliate a harsh growl scares him for a moment. He slaps you afterwards but it doesn’t hurt much. His hands are strangely thin. It only adds to the bird imagery.

You follow the man with a wide smile. He complains about your fangs but that only makes your mouth open wider. You run your tongue over your sharpest canines.

“Don’t act all high and mighty. You’ll be a dead bitch by the end of the day.”

You’re not smiling about any supposed freedom, it’s just fun to watch his eyes trace your teeth. Will the king react the same? Too many stories go around to know if he’s actually a brave hero or another coward hiding behind fables.

When you enter he looks much less extravagant than he did a few days ago. The lion-skin cloak is gone from his shoulders. A crown sat atop is head but it was a plain band of gold. You still admired how it shined in the low light of the room.

You’re still trying to figure out what you think of the man when the guards leave and you’re left alone.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Laios extends his hand but you ignore it. You keep your eyes pointed at the table now. He should just drag you towards the guillotine and have it over with.

The man seems unperturbed and smiles widely at you.

“Oh and you shouldn’t worry about… dying or anything.” He pulls an odd face that isn’t quite a frown. “We’re all about rehabilitation here- or well it depends, but mostly rehabilitation yes.”

“So you’re gonna give me a job cleaning up shit or something?”

“Probably not, Marcille handles that kind of thing though. The job assigning I mean. She’s very good at it.”

You go quiet again. You’re not sure why the king has to be involved in something as simple as this. He speaks very casually but appearance wise does give off an air of royalty.

As the silence stretches on for a bit too long before Laios takes it as a cue to open his mouth again. “I’m interested in your heritage, if you’ll share. I meant to ask if you were beastkin earlier but I didn’t get an answer!” His eyes light up and you find yourself caught off guard. Usually the people who take interest in you do it for less than honest reasons. Laios hasn’t completely ruled out that possibility but his innocent look does relax you slightly.

“Ah well I don’t really know the full story.” Your mother had barely ever spoken to you about anything, much less your progenitors. “My mother was one, a beastkin. She was a werewolf. I don’t know about my father though.”

“Amazing! I didn’t know beastkin could have children. We’ll have to write to Izutsmi.” He stands up, knocking his chair backwards. Quickly the man crosses over to you. He easily towers over you. The eyes of his lion cape look down on you in judgement. “Can I ask you a few more questions?” He’s growing loud, almost shouting.

“Maybe.” Laios is making a mad dash back towards creepy territory but he still looks rather excited so you push down the feeling.

“Can I see your hands?”

This time you do extend just one. He cradles it for a moment, twisting your wrist and curling your fingers. It’s such a delicate touch. You’ve never had someone hold you without intending to hurt.

Laios’s thumb glides over the thick skin of your palm. “It’s like a paw pad,” he murmurs. You’re glad that he doesn’t mind your silence. As he moves upwards to trace over your nails, claws, you wince. They’re brittle and chipped in some places. Overall they have a strange stripped texture that looks hideous.

“Are they good for digging?” The question catches you so off guard you stifle a laugh.

“I dunno. I’ve never tried… I guess they’re good a tearing through wood though.” Not enough to escape any kind cell of course, but enough to piss off the guards.

“Ah that’s clever!” There’s a lot of firsts happening today. You can’t remember receiving any compliment without a sarcastic undertone spoiling it. It makes your cheeks burn a little but you try to will the feeling away.

Without asking, though honestly you don’t care, his hands trace their way higher up. Laios runs his fingers through the short fur on your forearm. “The color matches your hair, though the texture is a little different.” To confirm he plants a hand on your head, right between your ears. Immediately they flatten while a growl bursts out from your chest. “Sorry.” He pulls back with a sheepish look. “Does that happen instinctually?”

“Usually… sometimes I know why but sometimes it just happens I guess.” Slowly your ears rise back up as his hand lowers.

“If I ask can I touch your ears?” Immediately they flatten again.

“No!” It’s a commanding tone that comes out louder than you intend. There’s a hint of embarrassment but Laios doesn’t look bothered so it quickly fades.

“Your tail?”

It curls around your hips protectively. If you keep saying no will he get violent? Is your death still set in stone? Getting friendly with a king might not be such a bad idea.

“Just the tip of it.” Slowly your tail sticks out to the side. As he approaches it you hold your breath.

“Ah it’s so soft!” He pinches some of the fur between two of fingers. “Does it feel nice?”

“It feels… fine.” It’s like someone petting your hands. The sensation itself is calming though.

He continues on this path for a while. Laios comments on your inhuman features with fascination and listens when you tell him no. When you don’t allow him to measure your tongue or poke his fingers into your ears he happily moves on to another aspect of your canine features.

You’re still debating if his interest in you is flattering or creepy when the king finally seems to tire himself out. Actually one of his attendants knocks softly on the door and Laios wilts. You’re happy to have his hands off you but overall the experience was not entirely unpleasant.

Afterwards you’re brought back to the chilly prison with snarky guards but you carry the warmth from your meeting.

—-

After your third meeting you get moved from the prison to a proper room. It’s still solitary with a guard outside your door but it’s nicer than anywhere else you’ve ever been. The bed is plush and soft. Since you first ran your hands over it you’ve picked up the habit of sleeping nude. People knock properly before entering now and fur covers most of your back.

While you don’t sleep longer you do sleep better. One hour in a huge bed with an actual mattress gives you better sleep than you’ve had in your entire life.

The meals you eat are filling and delicious. You can’t help but scarf them down as quickly as possible. Somewhere in the back of your mind you regret not savoring the food but you can’t help yourself.

The guards are just as rude, seemingly aware of how you first came to the castle. You don’t necessarily expect any better but it does sour the extravagance of everything else.

In between meetings with Laios you stay tucked away in your room. Whenever you leave people narrow their eyes as you pass. The hallways are too confusing and there’s nothing to do anyways. If you don’t have to steal and scrounge around for food you’re happy to laze about. Everything you need is within reasonable distance.

When you do meet with Laios the meetings stretch to be longer. He always seems to find new questions to ask you, rarely repeating asks you’ve already turned down.

If you need breaks between the man counting tufts of fur and measuring the growth of your claws he agrees. Though even when you eat or simply rest in the silence golden eyes observe you intently.

“Can you eat raw meat?” He easily interjects in the middle of a quiet meal.

As with many of his questions you don’t know the answer. You admit the truth sheepishly each time but he accepts your answer.

“If I bring you some will you try it?”

“Maybe…” Your nose twitches at the thought. It can’t be any worse than rotten meat and that didn’t taste half bad either.

—-

Looking forward to your meetings with Laios is an awful thing. He brings you divine food (At least raw meet agrees surprisingly well with your tastebuds) and a few gifts even if they’re thinly veiled things to test you with. You go through a few different physicals, one by an actual doctor, and general trials. Laios makes bold comments about your natural strength and other physical characteristics. It gives you a rather big head.

His questions get a little bolder but after your thirty-fifth bubble bath you’re a little more lenient with what you allow. If he wants to check your ears or count your teeth then you’re happy to allow him.

The whole time Laios’s interest in you was purely based on your characteristics. Some might’ve considered him rude— he had barely asked you any personal questions after all —you liked his open attitude. A few humans had had an interest in your form, though for less strange purposes (or possibly more strange depending on how you looked at it). Though rather than approaching you openly most resorted to tricks or sly words. It made your stomach twist uncomfortable.

Laios was earnest. If he wanted to measure your feet and stride you knew there wasn’t an ulterior motive. It made complying with his requests easier despite how strange they got.

That was perhaps your downfall. Questions got more wild though you knew the reasoning was the same. Once he had asked to measure your tongue, insistent that it looked longer than any human-races. He hand crammed his fingers into your mouth, oddly stroking the wet muscle.

“Do my fingers taste weird? Do you think you’d ever eat a human?” You couldn’t answer with his rough fingertips still tracing your tastebuds.

“Ha your tongue is longer! I wonder if your vocal cords are different too. Kobolds have trouble speaking the common language because of it. Though your speech sounds fine.” While he speaks his fingers slip from your mouth. His hand traces your neck, skimming over your Adam’s apple.

You smack your lips a few times to get the taste of skin out of your mouth. It didn’t taste good or bad (well maybe it was a little bad), just strange.

“Do you want a drink?” Laios hardly looks guilty as he offers you a cup to cleanse your tastebuds. The tangy juice is a welcome change.

“Is that all?” The man tries not to subject you to more than one or two strange requests a day. You haven’t been out long but you’d be surprised if he asked for another odd exploration.

He looks a little disappointed now, as he always does at the end of your meetings. Still he excuses you with a wave of his hand and a small nod.

—-

Laios does not call on you for almost a week, a strange break in your schedule. While your visits are not always daily they happen at least twice a week. The king’s curiosity is never-ending. Though you wonder if he has finally asked all his questions.

You’re hesitant to leave your room, and instead find ways to entertain yourself inside. There are a few books with simple enough language that you can read them. You’re happy to take bathes and sleep to fill up the rest of your time, but admittedly you miss your meetings. Faintly you’re aware of the great power Laios holds over you as a king but he’d also the only man that hasn’t turned his nose down at you. Even with the upgrade in your residence the guards still snicker and sneer when they near you.

You’re awfully bored without him as a companion. In the end books aren’t very entertaining and taking too many baths makes your fur dry. The lack of contact with others drives you to taunt the guards. It created a nice distraction right up until they stopped responding at all.

So when the man finally shows onto your room you nearly leap into his arms. You hope your excitement isn’t too obvious.

Laios enters your room fully, closing the door behind him. He’s oddly quiet and the guards outside your door have been dismissed. “Is it alright if I sit?” He moves to rest at the edge of your bed. The man wears a serious expression but he sinks deeply into your soft mattress.

You struggle to think of what could have the normally cheerful man so quiet. His lips press together into a sharp line. “I have been very glad to have you indulge my questions… Though I believe that they’ve all been answered. I think Marcille is mad at me for letting you stay here so long.” His eyes don’t quite meet your face. Your ears flatten as you realize what he implies.

“I see.” Your disappointment is plain. You barely try to hide it though you feel a bit foolish for growing so comfortable. “Though I’m surprised you quieted your curiosity.” It’s a bad attempt at lightening the mood. Laios reacts strangely, staring resolutely at the floor.

You aren’t particularly good at reading others but the quiet here is like whispering in your ear. “Or you have found someone else to aim your questions at?” The idea doesn’t quite hit its mark. Laios responds much too openly.

“Ah no. Most people just get angry at me.” He looks very sad about it and you find yourself caring too much. You almost ask him to visit but that is much too forward. It’s more likely you will skip town and find another place to get arrested.

“Right well… I am glad you’ve told me in person.” The words sound lame. It’s not a proper goodbye.

Laios still doesn’t move. He seems comfortable in your bed. You would rather be the one sitting but you don’t want to move too close.

“I have… I have more questions truthfully, but I don’t think you would want to answer them.”

You blink. “I have answered them so far haven’t I?”

“Marcille scolds me for being too open. If she knew what I wanted to ask I’m sure she’d curse me.”

You stifle a laugh. “Most others would already considered my virtue compromised. I don’t think I had any in the first place.” Even as a theif you are aware of how people gossip. Whether you are a vagrant or a peasant little will change others view of you.

It takes you a moment but you gather all the maturity within yourself. “I’m happy to go, but you should not let others decide what I will be comfortable with.”

“I’m sure you’ll be mad.”

“Well I’m often mad so that’s fine.”

Laios’s shoulders relax and you’re sure he’ll ask another question of you.

—-

You stand nude. It’s more embarrassing than you expected. For all your criminal activity you’ve never been convicted for public nudity. Even on the rare occasions you’ve been observed naked it wasn’t as if the observer had any interest in you. Usually they were simply kicking you out of a bathhouse or spare room you tucked yourself into.

“There’s no fur on your stomach!” Laios in all his excitement forgets to ask before placing his hand over the area. The temperature difference pushes a weird noise from your throat. His hand is large, it covers half your skin. “Does it just not grow there?”

You struggle to respond. Laios looks at you with no issue but you feel… shy. Maybe for the first time in your life.

“Y-yea. It’s like that on my face and feet too.”

“I noticed that too. Isn’t it funny that plenty of humans grow hair one their faces but you don’t?” He has a strange idea of what funny is. You offer a tight smile and he seems satisfied by the reaction.

Laios finally takes his hand off your stomach. The skin there tingles in the aftermath.

“D-do you…” For the first time ever Laios looks embarrassed himself.

Encouraging him may be a bad idea but you urge him on cautiously. “It’s ok, you can ask.”

“I got yelled at last time.” The man scratches his head. “How many-“ he mumbles the last bit, “-nipples do you have?”

Your mouth drops open in surprise. Your face ignites in embarrassment and indigence.

“I-I’m asking because most animals have multiple! Even minotaurs have four. I mean you’re already naked.” At the reminder you’re quick to hold an arm over your breasts.

“Just the two… sorry.”

Laios does look slightly disappointed. “Your reproductive system is probably more similar to a humans. If you’re only having one or two kids at a time then that would make sense.” His eyes trace over your stomach again. It’s like he had x-ray vision.

The man stops touching you, instead walking around your entire body. He circles you four or five times. When he dips around your back you focus to make sure your tail stays still.

The appendage keeps lifting up and to the side. Once you noticed it you had tried your best to stop the behavior, but unless you focused on your tails actions it tended to move on its own.

Laios, as observant as always, notices. “Your tail does some funny things! I grew up with dogs so some of the behavior is familiar to me.” You don’t particularly enjoy the comparison.

“It just does what it wants most of the time. Most of it is random I think.” Your tail doesn’t exactly wag when you’re happy. About half of the time it agrees with you. Right now it’s an annoyance.

“I should’ve been keeping track better.” Laios sounds sorely disappointed in himself. His hand ghosts over the fur and then goes in closer. The way he suddenly holds your hips startles you. A disgrungtled noise escapes your lips. The odd squeak makes your cheeks burn.

“Sorry.” He releases you quickly enough but you stay in place. “Am I making you uncomfortable? We can be done.”

“It’s fine.” You should crawl into a hole and die but you doubt you can move.

“Are you sure?” He lingers behind you, hand hovering an inch or two away.

You have to answer through gritted teeth. “Yes.” When his hand goes back to your hip you don’t know whether you should stiffen or relax.

Laios stands closer now. Your back occasionally brushes against his chest. The only bothersome part is that your tail is squished upwards. It’s not painful but it is highly uncomfortable.

“What are you doing now?”

“Just feeling, it’s good to do that sometimes.” His hands move with purpose. They trace up your hips and under your arms. It’s quiet except for his breathing that warms the back of your neck.

“The difference between fur and your actual hair is interesting.” Laios brushes against your scalp but doesn’t comb through it. You’re glad, his clumsy fingers would just tangle it. “The fur sheds right?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?!” He runs a thumb over your neck, where your fur starts to grow in.

“Just a little I guess. It’s bits and pieces until the summer when it gets worse.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Itchy… and I ruin all my clothes.”

“Are you- do you turn, naked? O-or does the fur grow in thinner?”

“Thinner fur most places, but on my chest and neck I loose it completely.” You hide from his gaze as it shifts down to the area. You want to scold him for staring but you find it more embarrassing than something you’re truly uncomfortable with.

Laios scratches absentmindedly along the slope of your shoulder. His eyes narrow with concentration until thin flecks of grey pull free. The man seems pleased with the strands of fur that he’s pulled out. His eyes flicker back to your chest.

“You can touch it.” You have no idea what propelled you to say that but the words have already left your mouth. Afterwards you can’t do much except bite your tongue.

There’s such excitement in Laios’s eyes. “Can I really?” His hands are already poised to grope you. It’s almost off-putting but you nod your head.

His hands cup your breasts gently. Surprisingly you don’t have to hold back any noises or shudders. The warmth of his skin is pleasant but your fur dampens any erotic sensations. Laios squeezes, glances at your face, then squeezes again slightly harder. You frown slightly, if anything the handling is a little uncomfortable.

“That doesn’t feel good?” The man sounds slightly surprised. Almost immediately his hands fall back to his sides.

“Um, it feels fine. You can keep going if you want.” Most of your shyness disappears with the lackluster touch.

He’s blushing now, a pretty addition of color. “I want to figure out what makes you feel good…”

You don’t know how to respond. Laios is nice to you. His hands are sometimes a little too rough, but they’re warm. “Like, sex?” You’re embarrassed again.

For the first time you’re the one to surprise Laios. His mouth opens and then clamps it shut. “If that’s something you’re- uh, interested in.”

You took a long minute to consider if this was what you wanted. Something you were “interested” in. Laios had… technically, imprisoned you, or at least his laws led to the guards imprisoning you. But he was also a handsome and honest. His face was stained red as you stared at him intensely.

“Ok.” It was unlikely an opportunity like this would arise again. Sex wasn’t at the top of your bucket list but you didn’t want to give up the chance to actually enjoy yourself.

Laios seemed surprised again by your response. He didn’t move any closer for another minute or two. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he stumbled in your direction. One large hand moved to your hip.

“I’m not actually an expert.” Laios coughed into his hand. “So let me know if… somethings wrong.” It was unclear what that implied but you nodded dutifully.

After a deep breath the man moved in to kiss you. You were surprised that he chose a more innocent and soft action to begin with. You expected your hands to go right to your ass. His lips were clumsy but your own were as unfamiliar with the movements of a kiss.

The blond wastes lots of time exploring your body. His hands run up and down your stomach. They dip down to your thighs but don’t quite reach your pussy.

You pull Laios back until you bump into the table, sitting down on it. Your hands remain wrapped in his shirt. You’re not sure where else to put them.

When the man pulls back you feel slightly shy again. His eyes go straight to your cunt now that there’s no reason to avoid the area. The first touches are hesitant. Once the man is more sure of himself his thumb runs over your labia and spreads the lips apart. Your hairless center is exposed to his eyes. The cool air makes your quivering muscles tighten and relax.

Laios notices your slight wetness. His lips twitch excitedly. The man’s actions get more bold. His finger dips into your warm cunt. It’s thick and even a single digit spreads your hole wide open.

Both of you look down breathless as his finger thrusts in and out gently. Your foreheads bump together which prompts your eyes meet briefly.

“Does it feel good?”

“U-um it’s fine I guess.” The finger itself isn’t uncomfortable, but Laios’s pink face and his breath against your cheeks is much nicer. A sudden urge to kiss him strikes you again but you hesitate. Though the man is exploring your naked body the idea of gentle touching feels much more intimate.

He moves forward to sink the entirety of his finger inside of you. It’s still an odd feeling of just the right amount but nowhere near enough. Though once the digit is planted firmly inside your core it wiggles around slightly to rub against your walls.

More wetness slips from your core. It sticks to Laios’s finger and dries sticky on your thighs. The slick is enough to smooth the way for a second finger. This stretches your walls slightly but other than a heavy breath you manage not to react.

Laios is focused. His other hand grips your hips tightly. You barely wiggle but each time you shift his hand twitches at your side. The man’s head is tilted so far down it almost collides with your chest. You don’t need to see his eyes to know exactly where they’re pointed.

Eventually his fingers pull free from your hole. You expect him to try for a third but there’s too long of a pause. His actions are somewhat obscured. Though his hand becomes visible once more as it raises to his lips.

“That’s- That’s-“ You don’t know what else to say as the man licks his fingers. He dips his tongue in between them to get every drop of your slick.

“It’s a strange taste.” He laughs and you’re horrified. “Salty…”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from scolding him. Instead you try to focus on the feelings more. Laios’s fingers go back in between your legs and thats much better.

There’s more exploration and it’s nice.

“Can I use my mouth?” The man sounds so excited. He smiles wide and continues to pet your walls gently.

You shake more. “Do… do people do that?” You know what sex is but some of the finer details escape your knowledge.

This time you finally manage to catch Laios off guard. His cheeks are a very pretty pink. “I’ve… read about it.” You’re not sure if you’re inclined to put your faith in his literary knowledge.

“If you bite me I’ll… rip your tongue off.” It’s a lame threat that rings hollow. Laios smiles weakly and kneels down. His hands pry your thighs even further apart so his head can sit between them.

“It’s warm,” he mumbles. You’re not expected to respond to it. Laios’s lips near your cunt and you resist the urge to shove him away or cry.

When they touch the outer lips of your labia you breathe out heavily. The feeling is almost ticklish as you tremble. Though as Laios pushes against you harder the arousal comes back. His lips are much softer than his fingers were. They’re soft and slow against the entrance of your core.

His tongue reveals itself and you bend over into his head. The feeling is wet and smooth as Laios sinks into your cunt further. He takes the map born from his fingers and retraces it with his lips. You weave your fingers into his hair and can’t decide where to guide him. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips without anything to stop their exit.

“W-wait I’ll-“ You’re familiar with the idea of an orgasm. Though the feeling pushing through your gut is frightening you know where it ends. It urges your thighs to squeeze Laios’s head and keep him in place. Your hips rock into the strokes of his tongue.

The man himself eagerly continues. He doesn’t mind how you try to suffocate him or the strange moans you let out.

Laios keeps his tongue inside of you even after your orgasm. His strokes are much softer now but you continue to twitch with overstimulation. You keep your hands in his hair to try and stable yourself.

The man laps at your cunt until he’s satisfied himself with the taste of it. He pulls away, cheeks and lips shiny and wet. His eyes are half-lidded and still focused on your core.

You slump backwards, breathless. Whining you push him backwards. He sits backwards on the floor and you’re slightly pleased to see his erection underneath his pants.

Laios scrambles upwards and hesitantly stands in front of you. He seems unsure of how to proceed.

“G-give me a second and then we can…” You’re unsure if he wants to fuck you properly or if his mouth was the end goal.

“Did it feel good?” The man looks slightly embarrassed but he seems pleased too.

“Yes.” You break eye-contact. There’s a very pretty pillar in the corner. The bottom of it twists into ornate curls.

Laios draws closer to tower over you once more. “I’m glad.” He pats your head gently and moves his hand to cradle your cheek.

You push past the gentle moment and move forward. Laios seems surprised when you move to tug at his waistband but he lets you drag it down. The shape of his cock is a little more clear through just his boxers. It’s plump and you don’t have anything to compare it to but the size is nice as well. The thought of putting it… well it’s not so large you’re frightened.

Before you reveal his cock to your eyes you glance upwards. “Take your shirt off.” It feels better if he strips off the rest of his clothes before revealing himself. You find a moment to breathe in the seconds it takes for the man to pull off the other layers he wears.

There is a good amount of muscle barely hidden under fine layers of fat. It is clear he is well fed. You find yourself jealous of his figure.

“Alright, underwear now.” If Laios will listen to your orders then you are content to watch. He slips his boots off and steps out of his pants. The man shows no shyness as he pulls his underwear off. You are the one who stares now.

Again you have never truly seen a cock. Glimpses of nude old men on the streets were not pleasurable nor sufficient. Laios is young and handsome which extends even between his legs.

“Can I touch?” You have the common sense to ask first though your hand is already moving forward.

With a nod you cradle his length in your palm. It’s warm and heavy, alive. You wrap your fingers around it, what you think is an acceptable tightness. Laios’s breath deepens and he leans towards you. His chest is warm against your shoulder. Each sigh echoes against your head.

Mostly you just feel his cock. You don’t have much intent on getting him off like this. Watching him twitch and shudder is entertaining enough. You spread your legs further apart and urge him forward.

Laios breathes heavily against your shoulder. “Sorry I might be bad… I’ve never done this part before.” You have to stifle a laugh and pull him closer still.

“Go slow.” You let the man position you, pushing and shifting until you’re a perfect display. You try your best to stay still but your legs shake slightly.

His cock is much scarier when it’s positioned right at your entrance. Though Laios is still slightly clumsy, gripping your arm much too tight, he takes his time moving. The head of his dick is suddenly right at your entrance. Both of you are once again staring right at your cunt. Your view is slightly worse but that makes the feeling even more intense.

The stretch isn’t as bad as you expect. There’s a soft pain but with gritted teeth you ignore it. Laios does his best to get you used to the stimulation, rocking slowly. He only plants himself a few inches in for now.

Though it’s clear the man has to restrain himself. He breathes very heavily. His grip on you was impossibly tight before but now you’re sure bruises will bloom tomorrow. You’re forced still to let Laios take control.

He finally plants himself inside of you fully and nearly crashes into your arms. You guide his hands around your waist and wrap your own around his neck. For a moment there’s reprieve. Laios shifts slightly but doesn’t attempt any big movements. A minute or two passes where you both simply breathe.

Very slowly he tries a thrust, pulling out only an inch or two before sinking back in. You let out a pathetic whine and bury your face into his shoulder. He repeats the movements a few times, pushing another small whine from your throat.

You don’t do much except hold onto Laios’s shoulders as he builds up a momentum. It is very gradual but you find yourself still startled each time there is an imperceptible shift in speed. The pace grows until a horrible squelch sounds from your bodies pressing together and pulling apart. Sweat makes your skin shiny and sticks weird to your fur.

Laios doesn’t struggle with the fast movements. His muscles are much more obvious in action. You did not care much for a sturdy man when they only used their strength to subdue you. As a support however you are happy to have him to lean on. There isn’t much else to ground you.

You let out an embarrassing chain of whimpers and more dog-like noises. Laios’s hand cradles your throat ever so gently. “I- hah, I still wonder what your v-vocal cords are like.” The casual statement coupled with his breathless voice and cock buried deep inside you is a horrible combination. You feel horrified as your cunt squeezes tighter. Laios shouldn’t be charming but you don’t hate his stupid… everything. You certainly don’t hate anything about him right now.

Once you catch your breath you force the man to kiss you again. His big mouth is much more bearable when it’s occupied. If he wasn’t fucking you right now you’d force him to use it once more.

His hand is off your neck but it hasn’t stopped traveling. It stops over your uterus. Very faintly he can feel how his dick shapes your insides. Though his true goal lies slightly lower. It does not take long for Laios to find your clit and promptly attack it.

At first his actions are slightly too aggressive but after a moment or two he finds a gentler movement.

All your focus falls to your cunt. Despite both of you being beginners to this activity Laios shows great talent. Once his fingers attached themselves to you the end was near.

You’re not sure if it’s good to try and warn the man once more of your climax. Your tongue is thick and slow. Instead all you can do is offer another kiss and fall into the feeling of pleasure.

Laios only overstimulates you for a thrust or two. He pulls out of you slowly, and takes his cock in his own hand. Within a few jerks of his wrist the man releases onto your thigh. You are too tired to complain, instead content to rest your head on his shoulder. Your companion does the same. He leans against the desk and falls into your form.

For a moment you share heavy breaths and slow caresses. Finally Laios clears his throat. “There’s probably a rag here somewhere.” He goes to full away but you let your claws prick his flesh.

“Stay.” It’s pleasing to have a king listen to your commands. He now shifts to come closer, lingering between your legs. You pull your head back, only enough to see his face. It’s pink and shiny with sweat but still rather attractive. Peeking downwards you mean to study his physique. Instead you notice the fur you’ve shed. Quickly enough you look back upwards to avoid any more embarrassment.

You’re entirely unsure of what to do now. The sex was good… but you had no idea if this was just another version of his odd questions. For a moment you feared he might still wish to cast you out.

Laios squeezed your hips gently. The movement was likely meant to be loving but it startled you upwards. Your forehead smacked against his chin and both of you let out a groan of pain.

You didn’t know whether to whine or laugh. Instead a weird combination of the two popped out of your mouth. It prompted a small smile from Laois, whose cheeks grew even redder.

The small exchange smoothed out the awkward air. You pulled away from Laios fully and ignored the cold air against your stomach and chest.

“You can stay, as long as you’d like by the way.” He leans in more.

“Ah, so was this all a trick to keep me here.” You’ve never been one to make jokes but you manage a cheeky smile.

“I-it wasn’t! You can go if you want.” He moves to back up but you’re quick to snatch his wrist.

“I’ll stay.”

[luvvixu]

satoru's little contentment

content: husband!gojo, reader has a son with him along with megs and miki, the beef between megs and toru is real you can't argue with me, teeth-rotten ig?, i'm having a baby fever for a while now huhu, blaming my gf cuz she keeps on showing me baby vids on tiktok—now i want one... not proofread, too lazy, maybe later lmaoaoa

nothing makes gojo satoru content other than seeing his own family here with him.

like at this moment, his family were just hanging around in the gojo estate garden where it used to be boring but now there's a life into it after marrying you. and you, who has a deep love for gardening stuff, you decided to give the house a makeover.

"these are the water lilies that mama planted when she was pregnant with you." with your son in your embrace, you pointed the different types of plants you personally plant.

satsuri was amazed by the colorful plants while you watched the carbon copy of your husband's blue eyes glisten in awe. your heart melts when you see your son tries to communicate with you with his babbles and hand gestures.

planting a kiss on his fluffy cheeks, you couldn't help but to let out a laugh on how adorable your son is. "ooh. i can't wait for the two of us to plant together! we could fill this whole estate with plants and even flowers!" you squeal.

your son tries to wiggle himself free as he would like to be down for a moment and play with nature, or should you say.

satsuri ran around while satoru, who was casually sitting under the tree, watched his loving wife and his adorable son grab some stones using his small tiny hands and give them to his mother, seemingly asking if he could eat them.

"baby, we cannot eat those." your giggly voice echoes in his ears pleasingly. your baby sensed something that was against his will as his lips formed into a pout and was about to cry when you immediately picked him up to console your poor baby.

"these are rocks." you grabbed the stone on his hand, gently tapping his skin using it. "see? these are hard and sharp too. one stone could hurt you, it could hurt you more if you eat it." you tried to explain it to your son well. sadly, he still didn't buy it.

satsuri let out a wail, tears are also now streaming alongside his face. being a protective mom you are, you immediately console your son while walking towards your husband to also ask for some assistance.

"oh no, my little tough guy is crying. did mama fight you? don't worry, your amazing dad will avenge you." satoru takes his son into his hold, cradling him while giving you a meaningful look.

"hush your trap, why would i even fight my own baby?" you snarl at your husband who was just laughing at your expression. satoru knows you hate it when you're making your child cry. although it is something that you should get used to in order for your child to grow morally, not spoiled.

satoru then looked down at satsuri who was now calm after being cradled in his father's embrace. everytime he would look into his son, he would always say in his mind that they were right — you were right, satsuri is really a carbon copy of him.

the only feature that his son inherited from you is a streak portion of your hair color on the side of satsuri's hair. then the rest, it resembles him.

on the contrary, satoru wished satsuri wouldn't inherit his ignorant, nuisance, troublemaker, and hard headed personality when he was way back younger. the man specifically doesn't want his son to experience the things he does inside the jujutsu world.

basically, all he could have wished and asked for is that satsuri must have inherited your soft, kind, and loving personality. those every trait of yours that made him fall in love with you. and now, that got him staring at his son for too long, hoping that satsuri would grow just like you.

hell, if he could only forbid his son to avoid being a sorcerer, then he would! but he knows in the end that satsuri would be the one who will decide his faith.

"oh, it's three in the afternoon. it's my turn to pick up gumi and miki." suddenly, you wake him up from his daydreaming session. with a hump, you stand up along with satoru.

"let's pick them up together. it would be nice to see satsuri pick up his siblings too." satoru suggested and you liked the idea. without any further, you two head to your car and drive away. you are the driver right now, of course.

"mom!"

as soon as you exit the car, you see tsumiki waving and smiling at you as you watch her skip her way towards you with megumi trailing behind her.

you kneel down to greet them in your arms. "hi, my babies! how's school?" you asked them, still giving the two your big warm hugs.

"it was fine. my friends and i gossip a lot during our break time and i can't wait to share it with you." you are tsumiki's number two gossip buddy (satoru is the first one, definitely) since both of you are female. most likely, there were times where only the two of you would understand since it's a girls thing.

"how about you, gumi?"

"just a normal one." your other baby boy answered, megumi is still wrapping his arms around your body as you sensed the fatigue in his voice.

"come on, let's head back to the car." you're about to stand up but megumi still refuses to let go. smiling to yourself, you know what he wants so you picked him up and carried him in your arms.

immediately, megumi planted his face on the crook of your neck while tsumiki volunteered to carry his bag — what a sweet girl.

"my sweet gumi must be very tired. do you want me to set up a futon in the backseat?" you cooed.

"yes please." megumi snuggles like a kitten in your embrace, making you smile and giggles at his cute tactics.

tsumiki giggles too at his brother's behavior. both of you know megumi was more fond of you among all. ever since satoru bought them home, megumi finds himself getting more attached to you and sees you as his mother figure.

the three of you proceed to the car. as tsumiki opened the door, she was greeted by a man and baby's voice who seemed to be laughing.

"tsuri! you're here!" tsumiki's face instantly grew brighter at the sight of her little brother. while megumi, his head instantly shot up from your shoulder at the sound of his other brother's name mentioned.

"hello satsuri." despite the sleepiness in his voice, there's still a hint of excitement in his voice.

"hey! i was here too!" the other baby — i mean, satoru pouted when his two children didn't even bother to greet him the way they greet satsuri.

megumi instantly snarls at satoru while tsumiki was kind enough to greet him with the same energy. your husband raises his eyebrows when he realizes that megumi was literally clinging on to you, again.

satoru doesn't have a problem with that, but there's a time when megumi would literally steal your attention away from him when it's just both of you. he just feels that megumi was doing it on purpose. behind his back, he knew megumi would smirk at him or even stick his tongue in his face.

"megs, i'm going to bring you down for a moment. i'll just set up the futon for you and tsumiki." when you get approval from your son, you bring him down and start to do your thing with the help of your husband, of course

you saw your three children playing with each other near the car. you told them not to go far away or they'll get into an accident.

"say, i'm not really in the mood to cook. should we take the kids outside for dinner?" you suggest as you flatten out the sheets of the futon. while satoru was busy double checking the safety of the bed.

"sure, it would be nice too since you've done a lot for us everyday. rest is also very important too, hm? don't forget that, my little wifey." you rolled your eyes but still smiled at his cheesy tease, but you knew satoru was just concerned for you, especially.

"okay, let's go home. it's still early and the kids need to do their assignments." you called out for your three kids who are excited to lay down on the set up futon.

your kids instantly find their spot inside as satoru starts the car. it was him driving this time since satsuri wants to be fed from you.

"sweethearts, did you wear the safety belts?" your two babies nodded. whenever you guys would set up the futon, satoru modified the space with safety belts just in case any accidents would happen, the kids would not be harmed.

looking at your children again, you saw megumi was already fast asleep as soon as he lay down. while tsumiki was watching some miraculous ladybug on her ipad. satsuri was unfortunately not with them since he's still a baby and it's very dangerous to let him sit without any supervision of grownups.

"ouch! don't bite too hard on mama, satsuri." you winced when your son bit your nipple a bit harder than the usual sucking, making satoru look at you in worry.

satsuri was now growing his teeth, so it's a double challenge to endure his sucks. thankfully, satoru was there to remind his baby to suck properly even though satsuri could barely register a word.

"satsuri, milkies are supposed to be suck carefully. want me to demonstrate it to you?" your husband is a bastard as he playfully mumbles the last statement, making you glare at him instantly.

"satoru!" if only he's not driving, you would've smacked the hell out of him. satoru just managed to let out a laugh while keeping his eyes on the road.

thank god, megumi was fast asleep and tsumiki was too engaged on her show, while satsuri is still a baby. but that is not an excuse to behave in such a way in front of your children.

"oopsie daisy! i'm so sorry, my wife. didn't mean to be very voluntary." satoru laughed at his own joke. you just snarled at him and just focused on your baby who was getting drowsy at any minute.

the rest of the ride was fine. just satoru humming a pop tune that he heard over the radio, tsumiki is still busy on her show, megumi was snoring lightly, satsuri is now fast asleep too, while you stay as you.

"baby, can we get some cakes? i am craving for some."

"no. you have to wait after dinner." you deadpanned. seems like his sweet tooth is kicking again. it makes you reminisce when you're still pregnant with your youngest. satoru was craving food more than you do and it somehow confused you.

"but baby—"

"the kids would not properly eat their dinner if they proceed to dessert first. you have to wait, satoru."

"okay." the only available choice for satoru is no choice. that's why his pout is longer than usual, good thing you're getting a bit immune to that. but that doesn't mean you're always enduring his puppy eyes.

sooner than later, the whole family was now home. satoru was carrying the sleepy satsuri while you're carrying the sleepy megumi and tsumiki was walking on her while carrying the bags.

satoru refuses to leave his eyes on you as you walk inside the house. he made a comment on how clingy megumi is and you shouldn't be carrying him because the little boy's now growing.

you replied to him that it's fine and you want to carry him while you still can. like he said, megumi was now growing and you want to cherish those moments to its fullest. satoru was softened by your words. but that doesn't mean his concern about you lessened, so he suggests that he would be the one who's going to carry megumi.

however, your middle child refuses to be held by your husband, that's why both of you ain't got no choice again but to let megumi be carried by you.

"you should've just left him sleeping on the pathway." satoru mumbles. you just shoot him a knowing look because another war would break out if megumi found out that satoru talked about him behind his back. thank goodness, megumi was a heavy sleeper.

"you agree with me, right, satsuri? that your older brother should've just sleep outside?" satoru whispers to his son. it was audible to you, so you're not sure if it was intentional for you to hear him say or not.

somehow, it brings a small smile to your lips despite his silliness, you know he didn't mean that at all. stroking megumi's hair just to make sure he's comfy in your embrace, you decided to counter his words.

"and you'll be sleeping outside too if you keep on teaching my son bad behavior and talking crap to my other son too."

part 2?

©luvvixu2023

[titaswrld]

gryffindor characters modern! AU

according to me….

description: silly modern! AU head canons of the main gryffindor characters :)

pairing: harry, ron, fred, george, ginny and hermione x reader

contains: mentions of substances, alcohol and weed. mentions sexual acts (i think…)

|an: bored and decided i’d made something a little silly. literally just my thoughts lolll don’t take this too seriously

modern AU! harry potter who…

— definitely has a flip phone and refuses to be on any form of social media bc he thinks it’s awful for you

— i think being around his friends who do have social media would give him the spiel on most things tho

— oh he loveeesss house of dragon omg

— only listens to 70s 80s 90s music and some jazz tbh

— i feel like he’s just very old fashioned and he’s happy that way

— such a loving and caring bf since he’s hardly ever even touched the internet he’s pure lol

— def a lil goofball he’d say a little slang term the twins taught him and repeat it back to you…”harry who taught you that…”

— don’t ask him to do no substances i think he’d be kinda against them..not a smoker…occasional drinker.

modern AU! ron weasley who…

— is a stoner! thru and thru. i think he’s a bong rip typa fellow but a blunt or a joint would do it too. doesn’t strike me as a cart of eddie guy.

— big female rap supporter imo…def into latto and maybe dabbles into some meg that’s his girlll lol

— definitely a twea/seltzer guy oml cannot take shots is my hc

— heavy on the lowk himbo boyfriend

— not stupid at all but not super street smart i fear, more of a book smart type of guy.

— super cute and adorable bf overall, he’s a big boy. for sure.

—armmmmssss…. gymrat imo he loves to blow off steam at the gym

—i feel like isn’t a social media person as well…has an insta but doesn’t post on it nor have a lot of followers..no tiktok maybe twitter

—luv him but he was def on drakes side of the beef…definitely a champagne papi

—kinda a video game nerd imo but he’s definitely into the sports ones like FIFA

— buys you n him the crumbl cookie lineup every week and you review them tg in the car pretending to be those tiktok crumbl reviewers😭🫶 (he’s so cute)

modern AU! hermione granger who…

— is 100% on booktok

— do not ask her about the summer i turned pretty or bridgerton unless you wanna listen to her talk for hours.

— don’t play with her and noah kahan…

—or taylor swift

— or chappell roan..

—she’ll have a cute little mixed drink or perhaps a seltzer but do not give this girl no shots she don’t want none!

— her and colleen hoover….

— brings her digital camera everywhere and is most def the camera girl friend….”hermione pls send me the pics from last night”

modern AU! ginny weasley who...

— does not play about female wnba players at all.

— don’t even mention paige bueckers…that’s her girl.

— is a party animal just like her brother.

— loves her chappell roan too.

— always on social media u cannot get this girl off her phone. she’s like an ipad kid u couldn’t rip it out of her cold head hands.

— such a good girlfriend, definitely so protective over her s/o, especially on social media.

— “ginny why’d you respond to every comment under my post complimenting me with ‘& she/he mine..so’…”

modern AU! fred weasley who…

— definitely asks u “english or spanish?”

—definitely goes to too many parties…like at a function every weekend he loves the party scene.

—treats his girl RIGHTT i would compare the relationship to don toliver and kali uchis, flowers all the time, handsy. posting/supporting his girl allll the time

—“i❤️mygf” typa fellow, all his posts on socials are her! all his stories, his highlights and his posts.

— also a weed demon, doesn’t strike me as a beer or seltzer guy but ooooo that liqah….

— dress to impress demon. his gf definitely got him to play it and he got hooked and now he’s a fashion maven.

modern AU! george weasley who…

— is every girls dream man…im talking flowers, boo baskets, burr baskets, easter baskets, omg you say the word and he’s massaging your feet and feeding you grapes.

— always posting his girl just like his brother she’s on his absolutely everything and he has a highlight for her.

— type of guy to post those tiktoks of his girl on his account appreciating her all the time and the comments are like “omg on his account too!” and it’s so cute and adorable.

—isn’t much of a party guy like his brother…will go to a few but i feel like it’s not his thing at all and he’d rather be hanging out with friends instead of at a big function with strangers.

—literally the ken to your barbie and yes he took you to see the movie and yes he got into costume with you. and he did it happily.

— always hanging out with his girlfriend and wouldn’t want it any other way.