#i feel like i typed too weirdly today

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

I've been reading some of the Death Seeker Creator content, and was wondering what exactly was the appeal for them? Even if their sanity is fractured, the desire to live would be an instinctual drive for the Creator to avoid it. Then I realized: when a person is in a life or death situation, the body releases a shit-ton of chemicals into the nervous system due to the fight-or-flight response. Adrenaline, cortisol, all that junk is being flooded into the Creators system each time right before they die.

Could they have become addicted to the feeling? Is the Death Seeking Creator now the equivalent of an adrenaline junkie going to mad lengths to get their fix?

That essentially is the answer anon, relatively speaking. It's hard to fully explain it without getting into why I written this au and why (I assume) others enjoy it just as much.

The fact of the matter is, most aus I've seen, while beautifully written and amazing to read, don't really take their writing to a certain point. Like you said the will to live is instinctual, but that will can be broken. I wanted a creator that had that will broken, just at the point of no return in terms of their mental sanity.

While I know I've said there is potential healing from that state, I don't really like or want to focus on it. That part is more so for those who want a happy ending for this au.

But what I enjoy is the pure angst and horror the characters will go through, seeing the one thing they love the most and cherished to the point it was more of a cultish obsession than an actual religious faith wither into nothingness by their own hand. And my main reasons are because honestly, if I was in this sort of situation. I would be this creator. I wouldn't have that spiteful drive to live if every time I ran it only ended in another death.

Though in all likelihood, becoming a death seeking junkie would be spiteful in a way. The thought process would be "if I have to be the one who dies for the god's entertainment, I might as well make it more fun. More gruesome, more...entertaining."

I guess you could say this is just purely...whump? Is, is that the right term? I'm not familiar with it so idk please correct me. Either way this is just me wanting to take the cult side of the sagau to the next step where the characters actions have the worst case consequences. No world ending scenario, but they would prefer it to be that instead of seeing their beloved seek death before their eyes.

That's essentially my reasons, though for those reading please do not assume this means I'm mentally unwell. I am as sound as anyone else who enjoys these fics, I actively advise against getting deep into my au if you at all believe you're meant to die like this creator. You are not, your life is precious and should be taken care of with the utmost respect. Do not put those who love you into that same suffering the characters go through.

Honestly I don't even know if everything I written can fully explain the point of making and reading this au. I actually didn't expect it to pick up like it did, I was mainly dumping it for myself more than anything. I know not many like the more extreme cult aus, which is perfectly fine in all honesty. Even I want some more wholesome aus from time to time depending on my mood.

Sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked, I tend to not really focus on the logical side of things when it comes to fics and aus. I mainly just prefer to talk about ideas and potentially creative things then focus on the details such as the whys.

[delicatetaysversion]

i helped my little cousin sister solve so many sums hello i love being an elder sister for once

[kangaruined]

ranting abt my roommate in the tags dont look at me

[yosh-iro]

why am i all crampy and bloated??? there is no reason for this????? i would fire my stomach if i could because this is completely unjustified behaviour and goes against many policies

[fairyysoup]

his hands

pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men

a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore. 

“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?” 

The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with. 

The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.

You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.

“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”

“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.

“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.” 

“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?” 

You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.

“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.

“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”

“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.” 

You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”

“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind. 

You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.

It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open. 

Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.

You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.

You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.

After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it. 

“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter. 

You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?

Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.” 

You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look. 

“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”

You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens. 

“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”

“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies. 

Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”

“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.

“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”

“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again. 

“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”

“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible. 

“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”

You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”

Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”

“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.” 

“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?” 

“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit. 

“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.

You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.

He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.

After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.” 

You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head. 

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.

“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat. 

Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.

“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”

His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror. 

Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it. 

Cocky bastard.  

“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?” 

“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”

“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”

A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places. 

“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation. 

Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.  

“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.

“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for. 

“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”

“Tell me where to sign.”

He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time. 

“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back. 

You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.

“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?” 

You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?” 

“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”

“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”

“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?” 

“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right. 

Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!

By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.

You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.

False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.

You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.

You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”

What the fuck did you just say?

Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”

When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.

There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.

This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.

“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”

“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”

“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”

His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander. 

Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all. 

“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.

Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.

You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”

“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.” 

“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.

“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”

“No way.”

“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.” 

“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”

A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”

“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.” 

You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”

Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?” 

“Yeah, not too flashy.” 

“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.” 

“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”

Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.

Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.

You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.

“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.

You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up. 

When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.

Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”

Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–

Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”

“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.

Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–

“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you. 

You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven. 

You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room. 

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.

“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.” 

“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck. 

“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh. 

“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.

Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?” 

Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.” 

“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.” 

He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”

Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.

When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.

Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you. 

“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat. 

His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more. 

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”

He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”

You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.

Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather. 

“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already. 

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”

You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.” 

“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same. 

“Good girl.” 

Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume. 

“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.

“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling. 

Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”

You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”

Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.” 

Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.

Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours. 

“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.” 

Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger. 

Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes. 

“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”

You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs. 

“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”

Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.

You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him. 

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down. 

“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”

“Eddie, we’re naked.” 

“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”

“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it. 

“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”

[honeylations]

MYEONG JAEUN x FEM!READER

Prompt: Jaeun was known to be the quiet type and not usually interrupt conversations but she couldn’t help it when she saw Kim Dayeon flirting with you.

Warnings/Notes: g!p Jaeun, quickies, B Grade reader, unprotected sex, puppy Jaeun

“Jaeun-ah…Yah Myeong Jaeun!” Sooji shook her seat mates shoulder aggressively that Jaeun almost fell out her seat.

“Huh?”

“Seriously what’s with you today? You’ve been out of it more than usual” Sooji hissed and shook the choc milk carton in her face. “Jiae got this for you during her lunch break. Here”

“Oh..I’ll thank her later”

“Now be honest with me, what’s wrong? And if you lie to me, I swear to god I’ll throw you out the window”

Jaeun sighed and looked to the front where you were talking to Kim Dayeon. She was constantly touching your hair and tucking strands behind your ear, it was making Jaeun feel sick.

“Ahhh…Is our Jaeunie jealous?” Sooji smirked, causing her tall friend to pout.

“No.”

“Hey guys!” Jaehyung appears in her usual bubbly tone along with Yerim and Eunjung.

“What’s with the pout, Jaeun-ah?” Yerim asked, making Sooji smirk wider.

“Our Jaeunie is jealous because her girlfriend is with Dayeon”

The group’s eyes moved to the sight of you laughing as Dayeon was now squishing your cheeks. Jaehyung gagged and rubbed Jaeun’s shoulders.

“It’s weird seeing Dayeon all sweet to someone. I’m sure it’s just playful B Grade things, Y/n-ie is loyal!” Jaehyung commented but Jaeun kept pouting.

“I know she’s loyal. Dayeon just shouldn’t be touching what’s not her’s”

The girls erupted in ‘oooo’, clearly enjoying a sulking Jaeun.

Eunjung clicked her tongue and patted Jaeun’s head. “I’d be the same if I saw someone going all up on Yerim like that”

Yerim scoffed. “You’re not helping”

Sooji leaned towards her seatmate’s ear. “I think you should stop Dayeon from going any further”

Jaeun nodded and stood up, abandoning the choc milk to approach you and Dayeon.

“I’ve never seen Jaeun get so jealous before. It’s cute” Jaehyung cooed, as if she was a mom.

“Y/n-ie…” Jaeun softly called and tugged into your sweater.

“Baby! Hi~” you squealed and hooked onto her neck for a tight hug.

As you pulled away, Jaeun held your waist and cautiously eyed Dayeon for her next move. You noticed how silent your girlfriend was. “Jaeunie, you okay?”

“Mhm.”

Dayeon was getting confused from the cold stare before she realised why, causing her to break into laughter. Both of you looked at her weirdly before she patted Jaeun’s back.

“Calm down puppy, I’m not trying to take your girl”

“Don’t touch my girlfriend then…please”

Dayeon rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay okay, I won’t. Damn you got yourself a jealous one huh, Y/n?”

“Jealous? Jaeunie, you’re jealous?”

“No! Just protective”

“Relax Myeong. I got my eyes on another girl so you don’t have to worry about a thing” Dayeon smirked and pointed her eyes at Seo Do Ah who was still writing notes from her thick text book.

“Good luck Dayeonie” you winked before watching her walk away to sit next to Do Ah.

Jaeun huffed and dragged you out to the nearest bathroom, her pout still evident on her lips.

“Don’t let other girls touch you like that, okay?” Jaeun finally spoke, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Baby…” you called, grabbing onto her face so she could finally look at you. “Dayeon’s just a friend. You heard it from her too, she likes Do Ah. There’s nothing to be jealous about, okay?”

“M’kay…”

“You’re such a cute puppy” you whispered and leaned up press a longing kiss on her lips.

Hearing the nickname from Dayeon pissed her off but hearing it come out so husky from you had made her cock rise. She instantly slapped a hand over her crotch to hide it but it was way too obvious for you not to notice.

“Got you hard, baby? Was it from the kiss?…or was it the nickname?” You smiled and kissed her lips again, this time you pushed her hand away and replaced it with yours, gently squeezing at her bulge.

Jaeun stumbled and her lower back hit the sink, completely trapped by you. Your other hand decided to slide underneath her shirt, caressing the hidden abs you loved so much and wanted to gate keep from other girls.

Especially Jaehyung.

“God, you’re so hot, baby” you let out a toothy grin and kissed her lips again.

Jaeun groaned into the kiss when your hands went into the waistband of her skirt and boxers, pulling out her twitching cock.

“Y-Y/n, someone’s gonna see..”

“Then we’ll make it quick. Don’t be too loud okay puppy?”

Jaeun nodded and watched you start stroking her length, gradually increasing the speed and playing at the leaking head. Your girlfriend threw her head back and gripped onto the counter behind her.

“F-Fuck…”

You leaned up to kiss along her cheek and ear. “That’s my good puppy~”

“N-No wait..”

“Huh?”

You were caught off guard when Jaeun easily picked you up and brought you to the biggest stall, locking it behind her and taking a seat on the closed toilet with you on her lap.

“Want to cum inside you” She said out of breath and rushed to push your panties to the side that was soaked in your slick.

“Wait-ah fuck- Jaeun ah!” You squeaked when she sat you on her length, feeling fuller by the second.

“I love how tight you are, jagi” you heard her pant.

Jaeun leaned back to get a better view of you bouncing on her cock, skilfully unbuttoning your top just enough to show your bra that she hastily slid into to reach your breasts.

“Mmmh yes baby, feel so good” you practically drooled, pulling your girlfriend in by her neck tie to crash your lips and muffle your moans.

Jaeun held you tight as she began thrusting into you faster, the slapping noise echoing the entire bathroom. You bit into her shoulder as you already pathetically came but Jaeun wasn’t willing to stop until she sprayed your insides white.

Her final few thrusts were violent before she had her turn in cumming, not realising that she was sucking on your neck the entire time.

She was groaning and babbling ‘I love you’s as her hips came to a stop, processing the mind blowing orgasm you both had. “Y/n-ie…”

You looked down at her and hummed, too fucked out to properly respond.

“I should’ve worn a condom, I’m sorry…”

You hugged her head to your chest out of comfort. “Raw feels better anyways. Don’t worry, I got my plan B pills in my locker”

Jaeun moved her head out to look at you shocked. “Why do you casually have that in your locker?”

“Because I knew moments like these would happen”

The tips of her ears went red. “You thought about us having sex at school?”

You nodded shamelessly. “There’s other places I want to try too but don’t worry about it. Just wait” you winked and peppered her face with more kisses.

“You two have 10 seconds to look presentable before I kick this stall down and beat your asses” Sooji abruptly spoke from outside the stall.

You both looked down and saw her shadow beneath the door.

You scrambled to get off Jaeun’s lap and fixed your uniform, the taller doing the same. You held her hand as you exited the stall, facing a disgusted Sooji.

“If you two are gonna be fucking around here, at least find a further area so we don’t have to hear everything, okay? Now move, I gotta pee”

You and Jaeun giggled like little kids when you went out the bathroom. She hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek lovingly. “I love you”

“This is weird considering you don’t like PDA. I like it”

[kiztae]

hi! if ur not too busy do u think u could come up with something for size kink w soobin? pls & thank you ! 💛

SIZE KINK — c.soobin

genre: afab!reader, very suggestive, brothers bestfriend!soobin, bulge kink, size kink (duh), making out, dry humping, dirty talk? that's probably it. wc: 1.8k [requested]

a/n: might be a bit short. hope you enjoy anon!

just like any other saturday, soobin came over to visit your older brother beomgyu and spend the rest of it playing games in his room. it wasn't new to find soobin in the living room, sitting in the couch and scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

it was only natural, considering he almost lived there with you guys with how often he’d come by. so when you crossed his path, you didn't really mind it and conformed to uttering a soft 'hi soobin' before stepping into the kitchen.

"hi y/n" he looks up with a raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgment, shutting off his phone and standing up slightly to move towards the kitchen island. "how's today treating you?" he inquires with a playful smile as he leans over the counter with his elbows.

“it’s treating me fine, soobin. what about you?” you say between yawns while pouring yourself a glass of water.

you had just woken up a few minutes ago, whenever it was sunday you allowed yourself to sleep in as much as you’d like. which is why you were currently standing in the kitchen, wearing your small pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt you found in your brothers room, at noon.

“so far, so good. but i have to say, it’s even better now that you’re here.” he adds boldly, looking down at the marble and then back up at you.

you could see his eyes glimmer mischievously as he ended his sentence, the two orbs dropping lower and trailing down your exposed collarbones, your chest that was exposing just about enough cleavage to help his imagination, and finally, your hands. everything about you looked so dainty and small, soobin couldn’t help but think about how adorable and weirdly hot he found it.

hell, he knew it was wrong to think about his best friend's little sister under this lewd light but it was just so hard not to.

“you really have a way with words don’t you? save them for the girls on your campus.” you grin in response, emptying the glass of cold water in your mouth and feeling the new energy flowing through your body.

if you had to be honest, it’s not like you hadn’t thought about soobin like that before. you were aware of how attractive he was and especially how close to your ideal type he proved to be. soobin was tall, handsome and a literal giant in proportions but also adorable and cute at times.

nevertheless, you pushed those thoughts away quickly whenever you remembered who he was to you. he was your brother’s best friend, he was older than you, he had many other things he could care about other than you… so why bother?

sure, it wouldn't be awful to have some fun with him, especially after not having any form of sexual activity in the past months (not even a kiss), but you were sure it was all not going to happen anyway. so, you tried your best to stay unfazed by his comments and approaches, figuring he was just teasing you.

“i’m not sweet talking you y/n. i’m—“ before he could continue, beomgyu walked into the room with a loud “you can use the shower now!”, signaling that you could start your morning routine and that he could get back to hanging out with his best friend.

“what are you doing here? you could’ve waited in my room man.” he says with an awkward laugh as he taps his friend’s back.

“well, see you around.” you bid your goodbye and go off to continue with your day, not bothering to finish the earlier conversation.

-

why was getting up suddenly so hard? some sort of heavy weight was placed on top of you, not letting you move up or even around in the room of your mattress. this was not like any other sunday morning. were you still dreaming? after squirming in place for a little more you opened your eyes slowly and looked around despite the hazy vision of your only recent wake up call.

moving around (if you could even call it that) helped you figure out two things: 1. whatever it was that was stopping you was laying half on top of you and pressing your side 2. it was breathing. as soon as you realized the second, you started kicking your feet up and turning around in a hurry like crazy.

"woah—! what the—!" the lump under the other blanket started to blurt out in panic, until it moved up and revealed itself. that's when you were met with a confused soobin with the biggest case of bed hair you've seen.

before you could process it, he swiftly took your wrists into his hands and pushed them against the mattress effortlessly, shifting completely on top of you to keep your legs caged between both of his on your sides with ease. finally, if he got kicked once more he was sure he would get bruises.

"hey—!" you shout against his defense before his right palm comes up to cover your mouth clumsily. it was ridiculous how much of your face his hand covered then, all of your jaw and part of your neck being hidden behind it.

"shhh. don't you realize it's super early in the morning?" he whisper-shouts back, frowning and staring into your eyes, finally.

you relaxed and twisted your head around to take in the room, noticing that it was indeed still dark and that the sunset hadn't even happened yet. once you took it in, you took in the sight of soobin, at last. he was breathing loudly, his hair messy, his shirt hanging low on his chest and his eyes waving around as he looked into yours.

"why are you in my bed?" you murmur with a confused frown once he removed his hand, your breathing starting to speed up when you realize the position you're in right now. god, you hoped he was still sleepy enough to not notice the pink blooming in your cheeks.

"i— i don't know. i thought i went into beomgyu's room after i woke up to drink some water... but i guess not." he trails off, his eyes dipping lower from your eyes to your neck, your disheveled hair, your shirt that bunched up and exposed your waist, until he came back up to stare at your mouth for longer.

"i guess not..." you imitate quietly when your gaze also lays on his pouty lips and then back to his eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n" he states in a more deep voice, his tone sounding hushed as he leaned in closer to you, the hand holding your wrist pushing further up and the other dipping the mattress on your side.

"huh? for what?" you mutter out in surprisement at the sudden apology, your voice breaking softly once you feel him get closer.

"for not holding myself back." he whispers back, his hand interlacing with yours and pinning it deeper into the sheets as he catches your breath in a swift kiss. the action earned a small gasp from you, your form stiffening under his hold briefly, unsure of what was happening, until you sighed into his mouth and leaned in.

he softly groaned in satisfaction once he felt you relax and open your mouth more for him, granting him permission to kiss you deeper. "i'm such a shit best friend aren't i? i just couldn't hold it in anymore." he comments as he leaves your lips for a second, the loss of contact already making you disappointed.

but he doesn't stop. his free hand grazes your side softly and grasps your waist roughly, another gasp coming from you that's quickly swallowed by soobin's lips on yours. his kisses are desperate, hungry even. it's like he doesn't want to waste a single second when he's kissing you.

his tongue dips into your bottom lip and then brushes against yours, the wet sound of it starting to get more noticeable as his mouth melts with yours. you weren't sure you expected soobin to get messy like this, saliva mixing with yours, kisses sloppy and needy, you were loving it.

soobin was heavy on top of you, he was making sure he didn't lay his whole body weight, knowing for sure he would crush you, but he was letting himself press against you just enough for you to be trapped below him. if he wanted to, he could do anything he wanted to you, easily. he could make you his personal ragdoll, move you around however he wanted, take you however he wanted.

as his mouth detached from yours to dip lower and start biting and nipping at your neck, the hand on your waist trailed up and stopped right before your breast. "can i? please.." he says in a hushed voice as he licks a small stripe on the bites he left, his breathing ragged already. following your nod he takes your breast in his hand, his grasp being enough to cover it whole. once he gets permission his hands start roaming around your body more and more, grabbing whatever he can. his palms kneading your ass, then playing with your nipples, grasping your hip tightly as he groans into your mouth between kisses.

"you're so small— i could break you if i'm too rough, couldn't i?" he purrs into your ear, biting your earlobe gently and grinning. he didn't know what got into him but seeing you so weak and helpless in his hold was driving him crazy, he never knew he was so big until now.

"you're just— too big." the whiny tone in your voice as you replied was what did it for him. how could you say that to him and expect him not to go insane?

"fuck, don't do that to me." he blurts out as he lets his head fall on your chest, his hands tightening around your hips. "i won't be able to stop." he warns before his fingers dig into your sides and he pushes himself against you, his giant bulge rubbing on your underwear harshly.

"oh my god— soobin, you're huge" you moan out as the shocks of pleasure hit you, your hips instantly jolting forwards to meet his. at this, he starts thrusting his hips harder and faster against you, rocking the bed carelessly.

"yeah? bet that if i fucked you, you'd have a bulge right here. wouldn't you baby?" he questions while rubbing your tummy right above where his dick was pushing into you. "i'd fuck you so deep, you'd feel it in your stomach." he adds with a smirk, looking right into your eyes as if to taunt you. he never once stopped rocking his hips against you, the tip of his cock starting to leak through his boxers and onto your panties, hitting you right with each thrust.

"then do it." you plead in between whines, taking his cheek in your hand and staring into his eyes desperately. "fuck me until you break me."

-

© kiztae, 2023

[cloudcountry]

Please I need balor x farmer fic 🤭🤭🤭 thank you!!!

SUMMARY: how balor falls for you, and how you two get together

COMMENTS: @shinysparklesapphires spat this one out for you too

Balor seems like the type to fall for you whenever. Like, it’s not a flashy romantic moment, or a meaningful occasion, you just come up to his cart in the morning to check out his stock and gasp when you see a pretty gemstone or laugh when you see a silly article of clothing from the capital (“Balor, why on Earth do they wear stuff like this?”) and he finds himself frozen in place.

He can’t stop staring at you all of a sudden, your eyes seem brighter today and your laugh sounds happier, your skin looks so warm and inviting, his shoulders relax and his lips part, his eyes locked onto everything that makes you who you are, and he almost falls over. He stumbles weirdly, catching himself on the side of his cart with an awkward smile.

You ask him if he’s okay and he flushes bright pink, brow furrowing softly as his grin turns sappy, letting you know that he’s fine in the softest voice you’ve ever heard him use. It leaves you reeling, his usually plucky and cheerful voice smooth and gentle, and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and now you’re the one swallowing nervously and shuffling your feet against the dew-covered grass.

Wind chimes sing in the distance and you wrap up your conversation, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. You say something about buying seeds at the General Store and Balor has half a mind to follow you like a lost puppy, but he doesn’t. If he’s going to woo you, he needs to spare some of his dignity. Not too much though.

The next morning he leaves you a bouquet of flowers that are out of season, knowing full well you’ll connect the dots. Months pass and he regularly drops hints about how he feels, but not without fidgeting and backtracking a few times. It takes everything in him not to do a silly triumphant dance when he sees a bouquet of flowers left on his cart, with a little card that says they’re from you.

He runs all over town, flowers in hand, searching high and low for you, He finally catches you coming out of the mines, backpack bulging with rocks and artifacts and monster loot. You jump when he calls you name, waving you over with a beaming smile on his face, cradling your bouquet like a baby. You laugh and run over to him, backpack thumping against your back.

Was gonna look for you as soon as I left the mines is what you say to him, taking your backpack off of your shoulders and placing it on the ground, digging through it until you find a bundle of pure sapphires, one or two perfect specimens thrown in the mix. Balor stands, slack jawed as you hold them out to him, a nervous smile on your face. You did all of that work, got all of those...for him?

“You’re astounding.” he breathes, heart pounding so hard he hears it in his ears, the blood in his body is rushing straight to his brain and he asks you out right then and there, confessing how long he’s adored you, how he wants to be with you officially now, promising to buy you a drink at the Inn. He sees you duck your head and smile nervously, accepting his offer without even a moment’s hesitation. He expects you to keep to yourself when you two arrive at the Inn, still riding the high of finally being together, but you burst through the Inn doors and shout that Balor is yours now, that you’re together, and he finds himself shrinking behind you in embarrassment.

The townsfolk take it in stride (after all, the atmosphere here has always been rowdy), clapping and congratulating the two of you. Some tease the embarrassed Balor, asking if he’s planning on sticking around now, moving in on the farm with you, getting a mining permit and taking care of the animals with you. Yearning takes root in Balor’s chest as he sees you laughing with Adeline and Eiland, and if he concentrates hard enough he can feel the soft skin of a cow under his fingertips.

It feels right. You feel right. And as you run back over and grab his hand, pulling him over to a cheerful Hemlock, Balor feels more at peace than he ever has in his life.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Modern! Eddie Munson x F! reader, sexually explicit texts, lots of sexually charged pining, featuring a very done, very exasperated Ronnie Ecker ❤️

A/N: So, this was originally part of a much longer WIP that I'm no longer feeling but I'm still fond of this very silly little scene because it's heavily inspired by an exchange I once had with a friend over a guy she was really into. So, I decided to tweak the scene a bit and turn it into its own blurb instead. All you need to know is that our dear reader is down bad for Eddie and he has no clue until one day you forget to take your phone with you after sitting in on a Hellfire meeting😊 Enjoy!

He had only wanted to return your phone when he saw that it'd been left behind but after another day of noticing you and Ronnie fervently texting each other from across the room, curiosity took a hold of Eddie and made him rethink his next move.

It'd been three weeks now and he was yet to figure out what your deal was. You always came by after work to pick Ronnie up so the two of you could go hang out once Hellfire was done for the day, sometimes sitting patiently in the corner whenever the campaign ran late like today.

You seemed unassuming enough to Eddie – never interrupting the flow of the game, even quietly following along to fill in the gaps on your own as best you could which surprised him because no one outside the club ever cared enough to know the first thing about D&D.

Before you'd become acquainted with him and the other members of the club, there was some pushback when Ronnie had first asked to let you, a non member, come sit in – pushback that quickly ceased once Eddie got a look at you. But as much as he liked the way you smiled at him in your pretty skirts and dresses that didn't seem suited for the weather outside or the way your sweet, powdery perfume hung in the air, lingering like the smell of fireworks the day after the Fourth of July, his suspicions remained.

Too many times he'd caught you watching him while the rest of the group were busy deliberating their next move, your eyes all big and radiant and your knees nudging against each other restlessly.

Even if he wasn't entirely sure about you yet, he couldn't deny how cute you looked when you cast those eyes down quickly whenever he caught you looking, clearly embarrassed as you picked at your fingers in your lap like a kid who'd just been sent to the principal's office.

He almost felt guilty when he saw you withdraw like that, feeling weirdly responsible even though it was you who had been staring at him.

None of it made sense to Eddie but the thing that got to him the most was whenever you'd pull out your phone and type out something for Ronnie to look at later. Though he had no proof, his instincts told him that those texts had everything to do with him.

With every tap of your manicured fingers on your screen he grew more curious. So even if it meant a quick invasion of privacy, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to put his rampant wondering to rest, pulling up your most recent messages to Ronnie, his eyes widening at the very first one.

Head spinning and jeans feeling noticeably tighter around his crotch, it makes sense to Eddie now that this was why Ronnie had abruptly yanked you out of the room by your wrist the first chance she'd got.

Carefully placing your phone back where he'd found it, Eddie plants himself back on his throne while he tries to blink himself out of his daze. Two thoughts come to mind when the reeling starts to cease.

How was he going to keep a straight face the next time he saw you?

And more importantly, how soon could he offer you a ride home and and make good on that dream?

[roses-r-rosie3]

The Vanishing Hitchhiker

Male!Oc x M!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Blowjob, car sex

Summary: The Reader comes across someone who needs a ride in the middle of nowhere. One thing leads to another and the reader and the stranger end up hooking up. After the hookup, the stranger just vanishes….

A/n: Soooo because I sadly couldn’t do kinktober this year, I decided on making this Halloween special fic!

Quote: “I’m very sorry dude, we’re basically stranded”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You usually had a late night drive when you couldn’t sleep, and today was one of those days. Today was really stressful for you, and it didn’t help that you couldn’t sleep, so you got off of your bed changed out of your pj’s and quickly headed out. You started your car and started to drive to wherever your heart desired.

Driving in the middle of the night was so peaceful for you. Not a lot of people would be driving, the quiet streets, and the chirps of random bugs outside were weirdly soothing to you. Everything was normal, up until you saw some random guy waving at your car. Usually, you would feel suspicious of hitchhikers but something in your heart was telling you to pull over, so you did. You pulled over next to the guy and rolled down your window.

“Hey, what are you doing out here at this time? Do you need a ride or something?” You asked.

“Yes please” the stranger said.

You unlocked your car and the guy hopped into the front seat. He put on his seatbelt and you started to drive again.

“So, do you know where you want me to drop you off?” You asked.

“The park please” the guy responded.

“The park? At this time? Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” You said.

“Yes, I’m sure” the guy said.

“Okay then” you sighed before typing in directions on your phone.

You started to have small talk, you know the typical ‘how’s your day been’ ‘where are you from’ etc. But all of a sudden your car ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere, and your phone ran out of batteries. That was weird, you could have sworn that you still had half a tank left, you had only been driving for fifteen minutes, right? And when did your phone die? You never got the %20 battery warning.

“Damn it” you grumbled.

“I’m very sorry dude, we’re basically stranded” you apologized.

“It’s fine” the guy said.

The guy was calm, a bit too calm. There was not an ounce of fear in his voice. Who wouldn’t be scared? You’re stranded in the middle of nowhere with a stranger you barley know. While you were thinking of a way to get help, you felt a hand start to rest on your thighs. You looked up and saw the guy, he still calm as his hands crept closer and closer to your crotch area. You would’ve stopped him, but it’s not like you had anything better to do, and besides the guy was cute.

When he finally got to your zipper, he leaned his head closer to yours. He slowly pressed his lips against yours. You noticed that his lips were cold, but then again he was outside for a while so you ignored it and gave into the kiss. But all of a sudden you moaned into his mouth as you felt his cold hands slip into your boxers and slowly start to rub your hardening cock.

You whimpered as began rubbing the slit of your cock. The stranger broke the kiss and he started to pull your trousers and boxers down to your ankles, freeing your leaking cock from its restraints. Without warning, he quickly took your cock into his cold mouth.

You started groaning in pleasure as the guy started to deepthroat your cock. It was like he didn’t have a gag reflex. You gripped his soft hair as he kept taking you fully, taking your whole cock in his mouth without making a single sound.

“P-please~” you whimpered.

Several moans escaped your open mouth as his tongue drew a long strip of saliva up towards the tip. Your grip on his hair was fighting as pre-cum oozing out of your slit. He hallowed his cheeks, as he bobbed his head up and down your cock.

Your gritted your teeth when the vibrations on your sensitive, leaking cock were becoming too much. Your last straw was when the tip of your cock started to brush against the back of his throat. Your hands grabbing his hair in fists as your hips bucked slightly off of the chair, and you came with powerful sprays.

You expected him to stop after your first orgasam, but he kept on sucking, causing you get hard once again. The sound of the guy’s sucking filled your car as he took your length down his throat. Your car windows getting more foggy the more the guy started sucking. It wasn’t long until your breathing was picking up its pace, and you felt the same tingling sensation beging to form in your groin. 

“Mmm~ Fuck~ I- I- I’m gonna-”

You let out an embarrassing moan as you shot thick strings of cum into his mouth. You would think that even after your second release he would stop, but he just kept going.

“I-I c-can’t take it a-anymore. T-too m-much” you stuttered.

It had been what felt like hours and the guy still would stop sucking. You were way passed overstimulation at this point. Your cock was coated with cum and saliva. You could barley even speak, and your arms felt too weak to even try to push the guy off of your cock.

You had already cum nine times already and you couldn’t take it anymore. You let out a moan, and next thing you knew, you came in his mouth for the tenth time and you passed out.

When you awoke, the guy was gone, and your pants were pulled up. But most of all, your phone battery was at full percentage and you had a full tank of gas.

That experience was weird.

[cheqorb]

not soulmates after all.

Being the ever productive human you are, you download a cringey love calculator app for fun. Too bad the result is disappointingly low.

featuring. blue lock cast

notes. worst feeling is when you want to write but can’t be bothered to, this has been sitting in my drafts for a HOT minute. small drabble before i die of heatstroke, enjoy (or don’t).

You’re lounging on your couch, aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you stumble upon the greatest app you’ve ever seen. Like, this must’ve been the reason why the internet was created. Your entire life was for this one thing. The name alone, Love-o-meter 2000, sounds like it was invented by a 13 year old writing fanfiction for the first time.

But hey, you’re bored and there’s something about the heart emojis, pink sparkles and the promise of ‘definitive proof of true love’ that speaks to you on a personal level. Maybe this is why people think you’re an easy target for scammers.

You download it — disregarding basic internet safety 101 of not downloading shit from suspicious websites — and the app’s interface is exactly what you’d expect: glittery, over the top with a soundtrack of what can only be described as weirdly romantic elevator music. Okay, so, enter your and your darling’s name and the Love-o-meter will calculate your love score (and possibly decide the fate of your relationship).

Pure, unadulterated pseudoscience.

It’s perfect, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and it’s definitely not bordering on insanity.

You send a quick text to your beloved partner who’s literally just in the other room informing them of your very smart decision. The message is ambiguous, designed to intrigue or confuse them as the evil mastermind you are. “Going to a fortune teller to see if we’re destined to be together. Let you know how it goes xx.”

────

Rolling their eyes and sighing like the single mothers they are. Just what the hell have you got planned this time? They’ve been a victim of your schemes for the past few (what feels like) decades you’ve been together and are skeptical any time you message them out of the blue. Do they really want to know? Absolutely not and they refuse to engage in whatever witchcraft you’re trying to achieve.

Option one, they leave you on read.

Option two, they send a text with "Whatever you say, babe" for their own safety.

Rin, Sae, Post WC! Kunigami, Kaiser

Chigiri, Barou, Karasu, Raichi

────

Confusion flickers across their face as they stare at the text for a minute. They debate on sending a message asking what you even mean by that, but delete it at the last second. Is it worth the risk? No. So they opt for the safe, more loving response because they adore you enough to deal with all this. Ignoring the fact that you’re both at home, they text back, "Oh okay, you have fun with that. Love you :)"

Be careful with some of these people though; if their overthinking habits kick in, they’ll start to panic over if you’re (hypothetically) unhappy with the relationship.

Isagi, Pre-WC! Kunigami, Hiori, Nanase, Kurona, Niko

Reo, Ness, Tokimitsu

────

Immediately curious when they see the message and out of excitement, rush over to the room you’re in. They plop themselves down beside you, squishing their body against yours whilst peering over your shoulder to look at your phone. You can’t just say something like that and expect them not to want in on it! The pair of you are like kids at a sleepover for the first time with no adult supervision.

"If it doesn’t show up with 100%, this app is a scam and we refuse to listen to its lies, okay?" they add on, because as much as believing in this type of nonsense is fun; they don’t really feel like losing their partner today.

Bachira, Shidou, Aryu, Lorenzo, Charles

────

At a loss on what to do and (whether out of general inexperience with these types of things or sheer laziness) send a lacklustre "k" before putting their phone down to finish something else. Well, if it predicts something really awful, then they’ll…figure it out when the time comes. With you helping, of course.

Nagi, Gagamaru, Otoya

────

You type in your name first then pause to think (unheard of). Do you use their full name or some obscure nickname you gave them that one night which somehow stuck? Like, would it mess up the results? If you’re truly meant for each other, it shouldn’t matter. “Eh, better play it safe. Full name it is.”

You hit the heart-shaped submit button and wait eagerly. The screen flashes and you got…

Almost dropping your phone, you audibly gasp as you stare at the percentage. Four percent?! Okay, you might disagree with each other on some things but certainly not so much to be described as ‘Completely Incompatible’!

Obviously, you’re flabbergasted and the stupid thing has the audacity to play sad trombone music as you read through the description.

“You should think over this relationship a bit more. Maybe you didn’t notice the signs that were there through your rose-coloured glasses, but don’t give up on love entirely, there are plenty of fish in the sea!”

You have to stop yourself from shedding a tear and how on earth could you confess this to your beloved? They may not have taken you seriously the first time but suddenly texting them (or saying), “Yeah, this isn’t going to work between us </3 I’m sorry…” is sure to give them a scare. Cue them immediately responding and asking questions. Do you not love them anymore? Is it something they did?

…did you seriously go to a fortune teller?

Feeling kinda guilty for worrying them, you then send them a screenshot of the result/show them on your phone in person.

────

More annoyed at you if anything, don’t scare them like that again. Especially not over a result of a game, and they tell you as much. Some of them are actually a little bitter over it though, because, who does this app think it is? You are soulmates and even if you’re annoying sometimes (most of the time), you’re still theirs.

Post WC! Kunigami, Barou, Raichi, Rin, Sae, Karasu, Kaiser

────

Laugh it off but secretly thanking whatever gods blessed them because those few minutes of silence, just blankly looking at your text message were possibly the worst minutes they’ve ever been through. Genuinely had to get up and go to you in person to see if this was another one of your jokes or if you were being serious — with you, it’s hard to tell.

Isagi, Reo, Hiori, Nanase, Kurona, Niko, Lorenzo, Otoya

────

Cry, chuck their phone to the floor, and basically slam the door open to see you. Tears are streaming down their face before they even say a word. You’re not leaving right? Don’t you love them? Please don’t end everything here…Oh it’s just an app?

Still, they’re not forgiving you (lie) for that stunt unless you reassure them that you love them and would never leave them.

Ness, Tokimitsu

────

Gasp, out of shock more than anything. Most of them are the ones who came to you in the beginning — meaning they know exactly what you were doing — but it doesn’t matter to them. Disregarding what they said before, they take full offence to the result. They’re already prepared to leave 156 bad reviews on it just for this act of treason. Or they just get pouty for a bit until you comfort them.

Bachira, Shidou, Aryu, Charles, Kaiser (if he’s in a mood)

────

Didn’t get what you were trying to do to begin with, and maybe still don’t, but they’re glad you’re not actually breaking up with them! It’s barely noticeable unless you watch them like a hawk, but they make the effort to spend more time with you afterwards. They’re not too sure why themselves, thinking it just feels right.

Nagi, Gagamaru

[entomolog-t]

Silly lil brainrot thats stuck in my head cause everyone's been talking about sizeshifters lately (AND I AM HERE FOR IT)

Just image a character looking for a roommate to help split rent, but their spare room is stupidly small. They put an add out, and get a few people coming by but no one wants that cramped of a bedroom, no matter how cheap they make it-

Until someone does.

They're frankly surprised- they figured at this point it was a lost cause but the person seems weirdly delighted??

Odd.

They are overjoyed at the price too- and character A can understand their joy- given the size of the room they were getting desperate price wise.

A week goes by and everything seems fairly normal. They put a lock on their door, but that seemed pretty standard when you're moving in with a stranger. They're clean, friendly, and pretty fun to be around- just a little forgetful, but who isn't?

By the second week though, Character A is noticing some weirdness. B doesn't seem to eat... They never see them cooking, theres nothing in the fridge, and they don't seem to go out for food either.

When A brings it up B brushes it off, saying they have a minifridge in their room and a lil personal stove. It seems like a good enough excuse until A realizes they've never seem them do dishes. Ever.

By the third week A is convinced theres something weird about B. They have to do some repairs on B's room and when they go in they're just in shock. It looks even smaller than before- B having put bookshelves along almost every wall- but theres no books in the shelves. Its all...

Miniatures?

Fantastically intricate rooms, ranging from something out of a fantasy castle, to influencer mansion type rooms. The longer they look, the weirder it seems though. The rooms are all connected- slides, bridges, ladders... Did they have a pet mouse or something??

Spying one room with a hamster wheel, A is convinced that B has the most spoiled pet in the world. Although... they never mentioned having a pet. Not that it was an issue, but A made it pretty clear that they should tell them if the have a pet in case of a fire or any type of emergency.

And then A sees it- or well, more accurately, doesn't see it.

They ... they dont have a bed??

Sufficiently weirded out but trying their best not to judge, A starts on whatever repairs they have to make, only to realize the project is not going to be a one and done job.

They let B know they'll have to go back into their room later this week and they work out a date and time-B assures them they'll be out of the house and will leave the door unlocked.

The day rolls around and when A goes to start the repairs they grimace. B forgot to leave their door unlocked. They really didn't have time for this. They give B a call, but it goes straight to voicemail.

With a sigh, they grab a credit card. It looked like a cheap lock anyways. Slipping the card between the door and frame they manage to bypass the lock with ease. It really was a cheap thing...

As they go to start the repairs, a little bit of movement catches their eye.

A small lump curled up under the covers of a massively luxurious bed.

Awe! So they did have a mouse!

and it slept under the covers?? Adorable.

It had to be pretty well trained if it didn't have any sort of actual cage? Maybe it was a rat? They could be pretty smart... though it was small.

Curiosity peaked, A pinches the tiny covers in their hand- not without noticing how incredibly soft and high quality they are- pulling the covers back.

A small hand rips the cover back, and they here a muffled

"Five more minutes..."

Eyes wide, they freeze, the world around them feeling frozen in this bizarre moment. A second passes. Then another.

The tiny figure in the bed bolts upright, head turning to A.

Their eyes lock in the most awkward dual realization.

"What are you doing-"

A interrupts them, holding up a tool.

"Repairs were today."

B nods, eyes wide.

"I uh... I forgot about that."

_____________________

I JUST THINK IF I WERE ABLE TO SHIFT SIZES I WOULD BE LIVING THE MOST LUXURIOUS LIFE

"BuT eNtO, DoNt YoU wAnT tO bE bIg?"

Yes obviously, but in this economy?? In the privacy of my own home I'll subsist for month off of 10$ in groceries thank you very much.

[mattypattypinky]

Guys this isn't a formal headcannons post but I do wanna talk about this so like...

I did karaoke today and I was so nervous and shakey and now I kinda wanna imagine the emotions doing Karaoke so :3

Emotions doing Karaoke headcannons <3

Joy -

I feel like Joy would be the person who suggested group Karaoke... She'd sing very upbeat song, and she would bounce up and down, and probably dance and flail the mic around. She'd be very confident, and very fluid in movement when she sings. She might bang the microphone and it would probably make loud buzz noises because she's being too hyper about it.

Her go to karaoke song would probably be something like Walkin on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves.

Sadness -

I think Sadness would cry in the middle of her song. I also think she'd pick emotional songs, and she would probably be a lot less bouncy and more keeping still in one spot when singing. But, she would put her heart into it.

I think her voice would quiver on emotional lines of songs, and she'd cry in the middle of her performances, but she would rather sing a song that means something to her over something that doesn't.

Probably any mitski song is a go too, but also any sad song in general. She would love I bet on losing dogs. Overrated but a goodie <3

Anger -

He would also be really into it, like Joy. But, I do think that the performance would differ, depending on what song he's performing. I think he would be willing to sing loud, angry, rock or screamer songs, but I also think he would be willing to sing a soft, or lovey song, it really depends on his mood. He can be a sweetheart at times, and he would sing a different type of song depending on what his mood was. Regardless, he might get too far into it. A fire extinguisher is needed.

I think Anger would sing I can't take my eyes off of you by franky valli. But he would scream it.

Fear -

... He would be nervous. I mean, he'd be nervous, at first, but I think after a bit he'd loosen up really good, and his confidence would spike quite a lot, actually. Once he realizes theres nothing to be afraid of, he goes a mile. He might even be confident. He would be more willing to do Karaoke if it was a duet, but he would hit high notes, and he'd probably pick a dorky song to sing. He probably likes pop music. Break Free by Ariana Grande, tries to hit a high note and fails.

Disgust -

...Disgust would probably decline doing it. People would beg her too. But, eventually, she'd cave and go up to the mic. And oh, when she does, she is an icon. She'd flick her hair and clear her throat, and then the heavens would be at the doorstep because oh my god that woman is putting her soul into whatever she's singing. She'd sway her hips. I think she'd be able to do rap very well, weirdly enough. But, I think she'd also be very good at songs by like...Lady Gaga, Kesha, Doja Cat, Ayesha Erotica, etc. But most of her songs she'd pick would be iconic.

We are who we are by Kesha.

Anxiety -

... She'd stiffen up, and she'd hold the mic up to her chest. I feel like, before the song starts, she'd glance around and as the song is starting she'd have second thoughts. She might ask to restart it a few times before she actually sings it. She'd suggest that maybe she can't do it when she finally gets right up to the start of it, but with enough support and motivation, I think she would. Her voice would start off shakey, and nervous, and her body would be slightly trembling the entire time - but once she gets confident, her singing voice is BEAUTIFUL... Her first few songs would start off completely stiff, but once she gets confident she'd sing her heart out like no one is watching... Once she's done she'd be extremely flustered and flattered by the praise. "It really was nothing, guys, really."

I think she'd sing To Love A Boy, or Big Idea by Maya Hawke

Embarrassment -

He won't do it. He would probably suggest songs for queue, or nod along... But he wouldn't sing. Even for duets. He hardly speaks... OH. But. I do think he would be willing to sing... If everyone left the room entirely, and he was alone. I bet he has a nice singing voice!!! But he gets embarrassed infront of people. I think he'd sing a love song... Or a disney song. Something from Tangled, or something.

Envy -

Envy would not be able to reach the microphone... And she'd want to sing what Disgust sings, but she wouldn't know the lyrics as well and she wouldn't be as good. She'd be pitchy, but it would give her charm... And she'd try to sing as fast as Disgust does, but she doesn't know the lyrics. I think she'd mumble sing a lot. She mumbles until the chorus comes and she hopes nobody notices it.

She'd sing any song Disgust sang previously in last karaokes. Or repeats the queue.

Ennui - She would probably sing a french song, but I feel like she'd be far to unmotivated to stand. She would either bring the microphone over to the couch, or use a wireless microphone. But, if insisted, she would get up, but she wouldn't be bouncy or dancing with it. She would probably flex that she's fluent in french just by singing in french, there's no other reason she's chosing french songs. She doesn't want to seem boring. She wants to seem cool.

Tous les Mêmes by Stromae or La vie en rose by Edith Paif.

Nostalgia -

She would spend half of the time cheering others on, and being like... I remember when this song came out, I remember when you did your first song, I remember when we did our first kareoke together, etc. She would probably not even start on time because she's reminiscing memories. But, when pressured or reminded, she would start to sing, and she would sing relatively well. Not groundbreaking, but in a elderly old lady nice comforting voice way. She would be really sweet.

Yesterday Once More by the carpenters.

[cloudrumble23]

Puppet girl wanted her to get to know the other ghosts in the pizzeria. To help her "adjust." To prevent corruption from taking over her soul.

Well fine. Cassidy could do that, even feeling the rage boiling under her skin as she considered the thought of anything other than plotting her revenge on their killer. Did the puppet even care? Probably not.

Still, Cassidy could handle it. She could make friends with that quiet kid who never left the suit. Puppet girl hadn't even had a chance to have a conversation with him yet since she was too busy babysitting everybody else to prevent them from corrupting.

The golden suit was crammed far back in the corner anyway. Nobody really seemed to acknowledge it, and Cassidy knew that the puppet girl only knew about it because she'd put Cassidy's soul there. Unintentional companionship, Cassidy thought to herself, squatting down in front of the suit to examine the eyes.

Sometimes there was a faint pinprick of light when she did this. Other times, there wasn't hardly anything to spot. Today was a bad day. She squinted intently, trying to make out the spot of light that she knew was there constantly, but there was no sign.

Resigning herself to actually talking to this kid was maybe not a good idea. He was hard enough to communicate with on a good day, and today was definitely not one of those. Still, Cassidy dove straight into the suit, knowing she'd have to go deep to find the quiet kid who shared the suit with her.

"Are you down here?" Cassidy called, looking around the eerily red space. "Hello?"

She heard a faint sob in response and hurried over to it, seeing him curled up in a ball on the weirdly colored grass.

"Okay," Cassidy sighed, pulling him upright. "What's the deal?"

The boy had his face buried in his hands still, something that continually frustrated Cassidy. They'd encountered each other briefly before, and he never tended to speak. She knew there was the lingering mark of death on his face, a flag of red spilling down an otherwise monochrome appearance.

In life, Cassidy might've even said he was cute, but she didn't have time for such things anymore.

Her fingers looped around his wrists as she adjusted herself to sit in front of him. "Look, I'm not typically the pushy type, but you're the person I know best out of anybody here, and I'm supposed to be making friends so that I don't get corrupted or whatever. Which means you gotta deal with me."

He didn't respond, even as she managed to peel his hands away from his face, revealing thick, oily tears that spilled all the way down his face and coated his hands. Corruption, Cassidy thought suddenly, a chill running through her.

"Okay..." Cassidy exhaled slowly as he peered at her through his eyelashes, briefly distracted from his emotional turmoil.

She swiped at the substance, hoping it was easy to remove, but she ended up smearing it across his face more. "Umm, oops?"

He only blinked at her, seemingly unbothered by the mess.

"Look, I gotta be honest here. This is way out of my range of knowing what I'm doing. And uh... puppet girl says corruption is bad." Cassidy gestured at their hands, coated in corrupted something or other. "And this stuff looks like corruption."

"Oh," the boy answered softly. He glanced at his hands and then at hers. "I'm sorry."

"What? No, you don't need to apologize. We just need to-" Cassidy took a deep breath, something she wished was still helpful. "Okay, why were you crying?"

The boy's mouth thinned, trembling slightly.

"Never mind," Cassidy said quickly. "Could you tell me your name?"

"I... I guess..." he replied, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm... Evan..."

"Okay, Evan." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "I'm Cassidy. I possess Golden Freddy."

"That's not his name," Evan said immediately, his mouth turning down in a frown. Something flickered in his eyes, a memory of some kind. "His name is Fredbear."

"Uh huh." Cassidy didn't know what to make of that. She really did need to talk to the others, didn't she? Clearly, there were many things she didn't know. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I just kinda gave him a nickname, I guess."

"It's alright." Evan clasped his hands together in his lap. "That's a lot of blood."

"Oh, yeah..." Cassidy looked down at her torso, still unimpressed with the fact that the bloodstains had carried through with her death. "It's a symptom of death, I guess."

"Do I... Do I have one of those?" Evan asked, his mouth creasing in worry. "Is it on my face?" His voice seemed to get higher with every realization.

"I-" Cassidy didn't know how to respond as he crumbled into tears again. "Yes? I mean, we all have those. It's okay, don't cry."

Her reassurance didn't seem to get through to him.

"Hey," Cassidy pulled him into an awkward hug, making him tumble half into her lap. "It's not a big deal. Even puppet girl has some bloody marks on her face too. And her neck."

Evan hiccuped. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's something we all deal with. I mean, it still sucks because that's so invasive to just know how other people died, but-"

"At least we're all in it together?" Evan asked, the tears spilling from his eyes no longer dark and inky.

"Yeah." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "We've still all got some stuff we can keep private though, like what we were like when we were alive, but as far as dying and our killer go, we got stuff in common."

"Our killer?" Evan seemed horrified. "He killed other people? Besides me?"

"Yeah? He killed all of us," Cassidy's mouth twitched. "Did you not assume that?"

"I thought it was an accident. He said he was sorry and that it was an accident," Evan started muttering to himself, hyperventilating.

"Okay, I think you need to calm down a little bit-"

"Calm down? We're dead because of him!" Evan's eyes flashed, and the hysteria in his voice increasing as he spoke. "He lied to me!"

The black inky substance was leaking from his eyes again.

"Evan, we all had that feeling of hopelessness that you're feeling right now, and I know it hurts, but please. You'll be corrupted if you don't calm down!" Cassidy felt pressure rising behind her own eyes as she spoke. The threat seemed much more likely now that she was witnessing it happen.

Evan shuddered in her arms as she tried yet again to wipe away the tears. "I'm so bad at this," she said to herself as she continued to make it worse.

"Join the club," Evan whispered, gripping his elbows with what would've been bruising force in life. "I can't ever seem to get anything right, either."

"It looks like I made a finger painting on your face," Cassidy admitted, wrinkling her nose.

Evan huffed out a small laugh. "Probably an improvement to how I looked before."

"Nah, I think you're cute, but I made it worse." Cassidy scoffed.

Evan froze. "You... what?"

"I made it worse?" Cassidy answered with a questioning tone. "Like, I made you cry a bunch, and then I smeared it all over."

"Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense." Evan shook himself out of something.

"Did you always used to cry this much?" Cassidy asked, suddenly curious. She'd never heard him talk so much, and he was going to probably never do this again.

"Always," Evan said regretfully. "My family hated it. Mikey and Lizzie said I was the crybaby of the family, and they were right. It was so stupid. Mikey told me to 'man up' all the time and be a better older brother to Lizzie, but I just..."

"Your brother sounds like a jerk," Cassidy said.

"He's worse than a jerk, since he killed all of us," Evan huffed, peering up at Cassidy's face.

"Wait, what?" Cassidy frowned, suddenly confused. "Jeez, how long ago did you die?"

"Like... four years ago?" Evan answered, sitting up.

"But..." Cassidy was even more confused. "You seem too young to have died so recently. Like, your brother is a full-grown adult."

"No he isn't." Evan's face wrinkled up. "He was only fourteen when I died, so he wouldn't be older than eighteen right now."

"That makes no sense." Cassidy replied, shaking her head. "I died two years ago, and he killed me while wearing that stupid yellow bunny suit."

"Rabbit suit?" Evan echoed. "No, that wouldn't be Mikey. Mikey hated Spring Bonnie. Father kept trying to convince him to have more interest in the animatronics, but Mikey only cared about Foxy."

"Then..." Cassidy's throat tightened. "We weren't killed by the same person. We couldn't have been, not if you were killed by your brother."

"You were killed by my father," Evan told her, his face twisted in a different kind of sorrow.

He's trying to tell me without making me cry, Cassidy realized. How could anyone end his life like that? Evan was too sweet for his own good, and clearly some people hadn't appreciated him the way they should have.

"How do you know that?"

"He never let anyone else wear that suit, Cassidy. Not unless something changed after I died."

"Oh..." Cassidy didn't know how to feel about that. "So, your brother killed you, huh?"

"It was an accident." Evan stood up. "I don't..."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Cassidy said quickly. "I was just curious."

Cassidy stood up and glanced around a bit. "Do you ever wonder why everything down here is red?"

"Sometimes," Evan shrugged. "I don't see anything in any other color anyway."

"You... don't?"

"No."

"Have you ever left the suit?" Cassidy asked. "I only ever see you down here."

"I didn't know I could leave." Evan blinked at her.

"Come with me." Cassidy said suddenly. "You have actually been living under a rock, for real. Come see where we are."

"Oh. Okay..." Evan reluctantly followed Cassidy as she made her way out of the suit and back into the real world.

"So, this is Parts and Service." Cassidy gestured at the grungy room filled with broken animatronics.

"Who is this?" Evan asked softly, having walked away from Fredbear to trace a line down Foxy's snout.

"That's Foxy," Cassidy answered, coming to stand by his side. "Fritz doesn't tend to hang out around the suit much, not during the day anyway."

"Wow," Evan said, his voice wavering. "They actually made them all into animatronics?"

"Yeah, there's Freddy, and Foxy, and Bonnie, and Chica. They're a bit rusted out, and now they're just used for parts, but..." Cassidy shrugged. "I mean, the kids go around and have fun during the day, pretending to still be alive."

"You say that like you don't," Evan turned to her, clear tears running down his face. Does he ever stop crying? Cassidy wondered.

"I don't tend to join in. I'm a bit too aggressive for the things they like to do."

"What do you like to do, then?" Evan asked, his hand still resting gently on Foxy's head.

"I don't know. I just don't feel like playing anymore. I don't feel like pretending to be alive when I know we were all murdered, you know?"

"I guess..." Evan blinked. "What if you could help kids who were still alive?"

"Help how?"

"I don't know. Cheer them up when they're down or something, I guess. Like you did with me."

"I wouldn't say I cheered you up," Cassidy scoffed. "You're still crying."

"These are good tears," Evan replied.

"Well, I don't think that would work, in any case. Nobody can see or hear us."

"They can't?" Evan sounded disappointed. "Well, that's..."

"They can see the suits moving, at least," Cassidy offered. "It's just that you can't really communicate, and I've only ever used the suits to scare the security guards."

Evan stroked the fake fur on Foxy's head, not seeming to really be listening anymore. His shoulders drooped and the tears were darkening again.

"Hey, what's up?" Cassidy asked, finding herself reaching for Evan's face yet again to clear up the corrupted tears.

"It's nothing."

"Clearly that's not true," Cassidy pointed out, holding her inky hand in front of Evan's face. "Tell me what's going on."

"I want to see my family again. I guess I was just hoping that I could tell my brother that I forgive him and miss him and-" Evan cut himself off with another sob. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Cassidy replied stubbornly. "I bet we can find a way."

"What if he doesn't even come here, Cassidy? What if he-"

"Foxy's his favorite, you said, right? Well, if that's true, we need to find a way to get him back in commission so your brother comes back. And then we can try to find a way to get communication between you two again."

"Why are you helping me?" Evan asked. He looked so silly with his face all squished like this, but Cassidy couldn't help it.

"Because I'd like to do something good for once," Cassidy whispered. "And I think it'd be nice to see you smile."

"Oh," Evan answered as Cassidy stretched his cheeks up to force his mouth into a makeshift smile. "Hey, stop it!"

Cassidy laughed. "Make me."

Evan swatted at her hand, a short huff of laughter escaping his mouth. "I can't!"

"Then you're stuck! Oh no, how terrible it is to smile again!" Cassidy grinned in his face, finally relenting in time to see him naturally smiling.

He giggled. "You're ridiculous, Cassidy."

And you're adorable, Cassidy thought fondly, surprised by the sudden protective urge that washed over her. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I dunno. Depends on if you're ticklish or not," Evan replied, the silver of his eyes gleaming menacingly as he dug his fingers into his sides.

Cassidy gasped, surprised that the same jolt of nerves she'd always felt when she was alive was still possible as a ghost. "Hey!" She laughed, even as she crumpled forward, tucked into Evan's shirt as she continued to struggle.

"You want to know the best part about this?" Evan asked, grinning down at her. "I don't even have to stop."

He was right, Cassidy realized. She was laughing so hard she couldn't draw breath, but since they were dead, it didn't make a difference. It's crazy how much joy there still is, even after dying, she thought, still struggling to squirm free.

Maybe the puppet girl had been right after all. Cassidy just needed to make some friends.

Or a friend, she thought looking up at the laughing boy who shared the suit with her.

There was still joy after death.

Especially with Evan around.

Thank you to @pixlokita for this adorable piece of fanart for this, by the way!

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚟

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: i get to finally, finally write a crumb of domestic fluff in this but then the whore jumped out

✮ cw: wet dreams, public sex, fingering, dirty talk, smoking

✮ wc: 3k

“matty, matty, matty,” jules chants, moving her hips and squeezing around his fingers. his tongue flicks against her collarbone, stubble stinging deliciously against the skin of her neck. 

it’s gonna chafe. it’s gonna leave red marks behind… marks she will later trace and obsess over and cherish. but right now jules throws caution to the wind and focuses on the feel of his fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. 

he thumb presses against her clit, eliciting sounds and moans from her like never before, like no one ever has. jules thrusts her hips too, matches the pace of his fingers until he’s fucking her hard enough to make him pant. until she’s sure there will be bruises. 

the windows are open, the door is ajar and she doesn’t care in the slightest—doesn’t care that carly might hear her or someone else might, not when she’s chasing that maddening release that she knows will leave her blacked out for several seconds. 

she doesn’t care until george walks in, frowning at her, not looking away. until he points right at her and says something. but there’s blood rushing in her ears, and the sound of her heartbeat is loud enough to drown out his words and jules can’t stop. she can’t get enough of matty. she ca—

jules jerks awake, panting and practically in a daze, looking around her like she’ll turn and matty would be there, sleeping. although, she can’t quite picture that. she’s never seen him sleeping after all, he always leaves before she’s awake. 

fuck. 

her phone buzzes under her cheek and she realises what’s woken her up. she’s annoyed at first, about to throw it away and go back to sleep, but matty’s name flashes on the screen. she feels her heart lurch in her chest, feels her brain flood with the dream again, and so she cuddles pancake closer, swiping up on the notification.

matty: r u free? matty: do u wanna run errands with me? george ditched me jules: is that one of the benefits i come with? matty: if u want to ;)  matty: i’m fun to be around i promise

she’s sure he is. jules tries to clear her head and focus on typing out her reply. she kind of wants to run errands with him too. it’s not like she has much happening today—she doesn’t have to be at work till 5 pm, and carly doesn’t need any more help with packing.

jules: i’ll need a bribe matty: is my company not bribe enough for u? matty: what do u want  matty: food? coffee? cigs?

she giggles to herself, flipping onto her stomach and crossing her legs. pancake is slotted under her chin, contorted weirdly. 

jules: all of the above matty: ugh! extortion  matty: fine. i’ll pick u up at 10

it’s barely even 8:30. 

time crawls while she gets ready, trying not to check her phone over and over again for any more messages, trying not to check if it’s closer to 10 yet. she even manages to bug carly for a little who asks her about her plans with a coy little smile. 

“with nico?” she waggles her brows after some back and forth and jules shuts down. 

“mm-hmm,” she hums noncommittally, not really meeting her eyes. “i should go. he might show up any time now.”

“do i get to meet him?” carly asks in the same teasing voice. jules pales a little. of course this was going to happen sooner or later. why didn’t she think about this?!

“not…today?” she answers, a bit hesitant. “you’ll get to meet him though, i promise.”

liar, liar, liar! 

she feels worse when carly agrees. she’s lying to her friend and taking advantage of the fact that carly won’t push her. guilt swirls inside her and she almost spills everything. 

would it be so awful if she told carly everything? would she think jules is taking advantage of matty? would she think he is taking advantage of her? 

she sighs quietly, and says her goodbyes, walking into the living room in a much worse mood than she was before. it’s no one else’s fault but hers.

“why do you need that much junk food!” jules giggles as matty tosses one packet of crisp after the other into the shopping cart. 

she was a little quiet during the short drive here, still thinking about everything from before, but matty makes her forget things. and now as they weave through the aisles of big tesco, jules can practically feel her cheeks hurting from all the smiling she’s done.

“george eats a lot,” matty giggles, throwing a pack of sweets in the cart. 

“i’m sure it’s just george,” she retorts, “get some actual food, too, will you?”

“this is actual food!”

“matty!” jules stands toe to toe with him, hands on her hips and her face schooled into a playful glare. matty stares at her too, eyes roaming all over her face. then he lifts up a hand and flicks her nose. 

“it’s so cute you think you can intimidate me,” matty smirks and turns away, walking further down the aisle and leaving her there a bit dumbstruck. 

jules shakes herself and scolds herself a little. it’s stupid that she should let him have such an effect on her. she needs to do better and learn to separate her feelings for fuck’s sake. 

she groans, a little embarrassed when the couple down the aisle throws her a weird look, and runs to catch up with matty. 

“what’s on your list? i’m sure it’s not all this…”

he cocks an eyebrow. “what list?”

“the…” she gestures wildly, trying not to show her exasperation, “shopping list!”

he frowns, throwing her a weird look and not even dignifying that with a response. out the corner of her eye she sees him grab a pack of brownie mix and throw it in the cart. 

“you don’t have one, do you?” she asks pointedly, arms crossed and feet tapping in place. 

“no one under the age of 40 has one!”

“i have one! everyone has a grocery list”

she can already feel her cheeks flaring with heat, with exasperation too. matty’s already biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh at her. it doesn’t feel mean-spirited though, if anything she has a sneaking suspicion he finds all this…endearing. 

“and what would be on your list next, hmm?”

“none of this,” she turns her nose up sanctimoniously. “my body is a temple.”

matty snorts, stepping a little closer to her. “temple… is that why you like me on my knees so much?” his voice turns into a whisper, words breathed right into her ear. “worshipping.”

heat flares in her body as the dream from last night flashes in her mind again. matty, fingers, his car, a secluded car park. 

it’s fucking impossible not to constantly think about how he makes her feel, not when he says things like this to her in public and has her squirming in the middle of the fucking crisps aisle. 

“veggies,” she blurts out, eyes firmly on the ground, “that would be on my list next.”

“veggies,” he echoes. “george would disown me if i came home with just veggies.”

she rolls her eyes fondly at him, pulling him to the aisle with some fresh produce and meat. to his credit, he follows without complaining much. he even lets her select a few things and put them in his cart. 

the entire time, she has a funny feeling in her chest. not something entirely wrong but like she’s not supposed to be here, like she’s not supposed to be a part of this moment that feels so domestic. 

“done?” he asks, startles her a little and jules steps away. 

“yeah you’re ready for checkout, i think.”

the checkout line, to her utter dismay, is not that long. jules doesn’t let herself think why she feels so disappointed. they’re maybe third in line, behind two people with mostly empty carts. to occupy her mind she looks out the window behind the cashier, at the sky that has gone from clear blue to grey and cloudy.

“it’s gonna rain,” matty murmurs, looking outside too. he hovers behind her, his chin practically on top of her head. jules would be touching him if she took even half a step back… so she stops herself, growing rigid and frozen. 

just sex. what they have together is just sex. 

the line moves—it’s their turn now—and the sky outside darkens some more, rumbling a little now. she braces herself for the thunder to come. not that she’s scared of it… but jules has never been a fan of how loud it is. 

“jesus fuck!” she jumps in place and glares at matty when he snickers. the thunder rumbling is not unexpected yet it’s loud—louder than it has any right to be.

“scared?” he teases. jules focuses on the beeps of the items being scanned, at the periodic thunks of it being placed on the other side.

“of a little thunder?” she turns her nose up at him, faking bravado, “never. i just don’t wanna get stuck in the rain.”

“too late now,” he tsks, and together they look out the window again as the light turns watery. the wind picks up, so does the footfall of people running to find shelter. some gather under the awning of the store they’re in, some come inside the store, shivering a little from their damp clothes. 

matty takes hold of her hand. “we could still make it if we ran…”

jules looks down at their intertwined fingers—at the way his thumb grazes over the back of her hand. her heart beats faster in her chest too. she’s seen him naked and has had his fucking cock in her mouth and yet this… this disarms her a little. 

try as she might though, she can’t seem to let go. so she just looks back up and outside the window. fat drops of rain hit the glass, racing down until they all converge into a tiny puddle. 

“could we?”

“what’s the harm?” he points at his jacket, “we could use this as cover.”

she contemplates it for a second, pictures it in her head and laughs—the two of them dashing through the rain, while carrying the shopping bags, under a jacket that isn’t nearly big enough. another rumble from the skies makes her jolt. this time he manages to stifle his laugh. 

“so?” he asks while holding out money for the cashier, crumpled up notes that come straight from the depths of his pocket. 

“alright,” jules nods, picking up one of his shopping bags when the cashier hands them the groceries. he protests of course, but she ignores him completely. he holds her hand again,  a little tighter this time, when they step towards the door. it slides open automatically, and immediately the wind and rain rush to greet them.

“fuck!” jules squeals, “‘m freezing my tits off!”

she groans the moment she hears his little juvenile giggle—a boyish sound that’s so in character for him. “i could warm them for you, you know?”

“you’re such a man!” she rolls her eyes, trying to stifle a smile, but matty pulls her out from under the awning and right into the torrential rain. 

under the thin shelter of his jacket, they huddle closer, their bodies pressed together to keep as dry as possible. the rain is colder than she expected, and the pavement is already slick beneath their feet. 

matty and jules take off running, his laughter ringing in her ears, mingling with the roar of the storm.

“shit, we’re so unhealthy,” she huffs, barely across the car park. 

he raises his brow at her. “we?”

“shut up,” she punches his shoulder lightly. he’s barely out of breath though, looking at her in amusement and mostly drenched from the rain now. 

matty’s curls are plastered to his face too. the water clings to his eyelashes and a drop falls on his nose, making its way down to his lips. it’s mesmerising, in a way—a drop of water on his lips and suddenly he’s the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. 

when the thunder rumbles again—much louder than before—jules staggers to a stop, right in the middle of the car park like a deer caught in headlights. this time he doesn’t laugh, he just pulls her into him and pulls them along, jogging a bit faster.

“you’re okay,” he smiles at her. she shakes her head.

she can see his car now, a slightly old ford focus. the rain falls harder around them, his jacket is no use anymore, she’s already pretty wet. her t-shirt is already sticking too her. matty’s t-shirt sticks to his body too, the rain makes his hair curlier, and jules tries not to stare so blatantly. 

they throw the grocery bags in the backseat the moment they get to his car, parked in a distant corner of the car park, quite secluded too if she’s being honest. jules feels familiar heat build up in her as she slides into the passenger seat. 

matty closes the door and makes no move start the car, instead he turns towards her and pulls a cigarette out. 

“will you smoke with me?” his voice comes out deeper than before. 

jules isn’t stupid. she can feel his heated gaze roaming all over her body, can feel the way he shifts in his seat and spreads his legs that it’s doing something to him to see her like that—wet with her t-shirt sticking to her body, wet with drops of water running down her arms, her face, her throat. 

“come here,” he says and slides his seat back. 

there’s enough room there now that jules could sit on his lap if she wanted to. and she wants to, she wants to so so badly that she’s practically trembling in her seat. 

matty lights the cigarette and takes a drag of it. 

“we’re in public,” she whispers, looking around. 

“do you see anyone?”

she tsks. through the sheets of rain there’s no one to be seen in the entire car park. thrill runs through her. she’s never done something so reckless, and now she wants to do it so badly that she can practically feel herself lurching forward and onto his lap. 

jules takes a deep breath and shifts, settling so close to him that their chests touch. 

“matty,” she practically moans, “can we… can you…”

“can i what?” he takes another drag of the cigarette and exhales it on her face. jules breathes it in, tries to store it in her lungs. he sounds smug, he smirks like it too. “can i fuck you, you mean?”

his words are vulgar and crass. her breath hitches. as if she’s in a trance, jules nods. she can’t look away—can’t look away from his honey-coloured eyes or the wet curls that fall into them, can’t look away from his pink lips around the cigarette and curved into a smug little smile. 

she pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and puts it into her, taking a drag. the warmth feels good in her chest. jules holds it between two fingers, glancing at the small lipstick smudge she’s left behind. 

it makes her feel bolder than before, bold enough to grind her hips on his thigh and whine. she doesn’t miss the way he swallows roughly. 

“jules…” his voice is a low warning, “our proper first time can’t be in a shitty car, darling.”

“you fingers then,” she replies without missing a beat. 

“fuckin’ hell!” matty takes the cigarette back from her, taking another drag of it, blowing smoke into her parted lips. just when she thinks he’s going to say no, he pops open the button of her jeans, pulls the zipper down agonisingly slow. 

jules moans when his fingers slide inside her underwear, brushing against her clit. 

she bends a little, her tongue against his jaw. his skin tastes like rainwater. “fuck me hard,” she whispers in his ear and matty practically whimpers. 

she can feel the warmth of the cigarette nearby. it burns just like she does, she thinks. 

matty gives her no warning before he thrusts a finger in, hard and fast just like she wanted. she practically screams, hand slamming against the window are already fogging. her fingers leave them marks behind. matty staring at her, she can feel it, can feel the intensity of it. 

a second later he adds another finger, moving his hands till he’s created the perfect rhythm for her. jules moves her hips too, sinking onto his fingers again and again while he blows cigarette smoke on her face. she holds onto him tight, swaying her hips until the pleasure burns so hot that she can’t take it anymore. 

a string of incoherent curses leaves her mouth, and then jules chants his name. 

matty, matty, matty. 

just like in the dream. 

she squeezes around his fingers too, crying out loud when they hit the spot over and over again. distantly she’s aware that matty keeps the cigarette away from them, she knows it’s for her own safety. even then there’s an insane part of her that’s convinced she won’t feel it of it were to burn her. she’s convinced nothing will top this. 

jules throws her head back. almost there, almost there. 

“jules…” he breaths her name like he breathes the cigarette smoke on her fake, like a warm caress. she cries out, holding onto him tightly and cums all over his hand. 

an utterly pathetic mess. 

she stays like that for a second, her face in the crook of his neck, panting, trembling. she stays until he takes his fingers out with a wet pop and licks them clean with his tongue, making sure she’s looking at him the whole time. 

then matty offers her the cigarette, half gone now. 

gratefully jules takes a drag of it, still on his lap, still shaking like a leaf. 

“you’ll end me someday,” matty murmurs as if he’s in a trance, as if those words aren’t really meant for her. 

“i think,” jules bends down and kisses the corner of his lip, “i think, we’ll end each other someday…”

[vervainandspritz]

Not Now, Not Ever

Part 1

Sorry it took so long. I was busy.

The view was almost pleasant. Where ‘almost’ was the key word in the eyes of a person who spent most of their life seeing it: a tall building in the city center, surrounded by even taller expectations of people who somehow got there. In recent years, more and more people were finding a way to earn time. Whether it was by honestly earning it, luck or tearing it out of some poor bastard who entered the city in search of cheap pleasure and a good time, unfortunately encountering such a frequent guest. Death.

Because that's what Dayton was known for: cheap pleasure and death.

No matter how much time passed, the luridness of Dayton lingered in Y/N’s deepest thoughts and memories. Thus the view here wasn't too bad. Dark eyes closely watched people who'd pass by the building, as her hand twirled her pen.

What a silly habit it was.

It helped her focus, at the same time ensuring that her eyes would not wander to the man sitting on the other side of the large office. Sighing deeply, Y/N leaned forward as her elbows made contact with the desk before reaching for the keyboard. The combination of symbols and numbers created password she knew by heart, typing it in within a single glance.

Hundreds of files, cases hidden under certain codes, were only known to the timekeepers who belonged to the group called A6. A6 consisted of three members. One of them was stationed ten floors higher, with gold letters on his office door, wrinkles on his face and the whole system in his hands. The second member was sitting directly in front of Y/N, separated by ten feet of distance and his stone cold expression. Raymond Leon. Even though Greenwich was bursting at the seams with people who looked permanently young, he was one of the few people she ever encountered who… never changed, not even slightly.

He had a blank expression adorning his face accompanied by scars crossing his pale skin. Weirdly bright, blue eyes dispassionately observed the environment he'd find himself in, no matter where and when. His hair slicked back perfectly, which sometimes drove her mad when she'd wake up in a worse mood.

How could he possibly do it? Not a single strand of stray black hair on his forehead throughout all the years they worked together. Scoffing quietly she rolled her eyes, realizing that her thoughts wandered once again.

It wasn't the best day. She usually had focus, but the switch she learned to make going through the entrance of the building seemed to not work very well today. Her mind was consumed with the wistfulness of the free will she used to have in the past.

Before it all started. Before she became something more than Y/N Y/L/N. Before becoming a Timekeeper.

Several decades ago when she had more in her than this fucking badge in the pocket of her leather coat.

As she suddenly got up, the armchair rolled with a screeching sound. Raymond's attention shifted to Y/N as he raised his eyebrows, looking over his screen at her feminine silhouette.

He didn't say a word, even though he wanted to ask.

She didn't say a word, even though she saw him looking.

Passing by his desk, she grabbed a lighter wordlessly as she moved towards the window, opening it wide on the arms length. The disparate feelings of fresh air and the burning nicotine filling up her lungs was all she needed at the moment.

Feeling the not quite unpleasant scent of tobacco in the air, Raymond was just about to get up to join his colleague in the window when suddenly the door swung open.

“Leon, Y/L/N” A forty year old looking woman stood in the doorway clutching onto a file with a fierce expression on her face. This felt like a breath of fresh air after spending several hours with Raymond’s impassiveness, Y/N thought. “Jameson was found dead thirty miles out of Dayton. We're dropping the case.” She said in a tired voice. Not waiting for an answer, the woman took a step back before disappearing behind the black door.

Y/N scoffed with annoyance. It was the cherry on top of her already bad mood.

“Sure, I only worked on it for two weeks. No biggie.” Her voice was stuffed with sarcasm. Her barely contained frustration filled the now silent room, getting a chuckle out of Raymond.

“In a great mood, aren't we?” He replied with a blank expression, playful mockery in his tone that he used so often, almost like a tool towards Y/N.

Getting up he closed the file, before approaching the window that she stood by. He pulled a pack of menthol cigarettes out of his coat and snatched the lighter out of her hand.

Y/N didn't reply, glancing sideways at him while taking a drag.

“Kinda funny for someone who can't even smoke like a man.” She replied smoothly, without missing a beat causing him to slightly lift one corner of his lips.

“You're enough of a man for both of us.” came out of his mouth along with a trail of smoke. Y/N realized it was only the second sentence he said to her that day, and yet, she had enough of his talking.

Putting her cigarette out, Y/N passed by him, getting back to work and leaving him standing there. Finally, she managed to get to work.

The weather was windy, the sensation of fresh air glazing his skin felt good accompanied by the scent of her perfumes and smoke. Strangely calming, even though he couldn't put his finger on what she smelled like. It's not like it matters, anyway, he thought watching over the busy city center. People rushing places even as the sun started to set was not a surprise, as Greenwich barely slept bustling with life.

Raymond rarely experienced the time where he could just be. Without pacing and his mind being on constant overdrive.

Just like now, standing by the window and pondering on the scent of his colleague's perfume, a calmness settled somewhere between his ribs. He realized that after so many years spent here in this building, with a steely badge on his chest, and with the sound of Y/N’s nails clacking against the keyboard in the background, he felt at home.

***

The whole day passed uneventfully, spent on typical, boring office work. They’d clash every now and then during the rare cigarette and coffee breaks. It was more to break the tension than out of spite; a practiced routine.

While the ticking of the clock used to be a menacing sound some years ago, now it just meant that the end of her shift was getting closer. Eventually Y/N logged out of the system, leaning back on her chair as she scanned over her few belongings on the desk.

One would think that spending most of her days for several years here, she'd have more knick knacks lingering around, but her desk was neat. Almost like a brand new working space. Y/N believed there was no need for additional chaos in her space.

As she stood up, throwing the coat over her shoulders, Raymond didn't move or look up, focused on his tasks, or at least he made himself look like it.

He almost never finished his work when others did. Some people in the office even wondered whether he’d spend his nights there sometimes. So it wasn't new to see him remaining seated as Y/N zipped up her coat, gathered her belongings, and shoved them in her purse before heading out. No words were said as the door shut behind her.

Only when complete silence filled the room did Raymond allow himself to relax a little. He slumped into the armchair as he tilted his head back, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Subconsciously, he regretted how the sweet scent of her perfume faded away when in her absence.

***

Y/N couldn't help but feel bitterness. She remembered the time when she felt relief arriving home. That feeling was long gone once the hope of turning the apartment into an actual home faded. It was hard to make peace with, but there was nothing she couldn't handle.

Not anymore.

Y/N took a long shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Subconsciously she skipped the kitchen, as she didn't feel like eating anything.

Wine was another story though, Y/N thought, chuckling when she grabbed her favourite kind. Not bothering to get a glass, she headed to the living room and settled onto her couch. She took her sweet time drinking, smoking, and letting herself dive into her chaotic and melancholic thoughts. Driven by the sour feeling on the tip of her tongue, Y/N pulled out her phone and scrolled to the unanswered message that had been sitting there for longer than it should have. She finally typed her reply.

“Okay, one date. Tomorrow 8 PM” she sent, tossing her phone aside before she'd change her mind.

A deep sigh left her lips, followed by a chuckle. What a mess.

***

“Fuck!” Raymond exclaimed, followed by a hiss when the heavy door made contact with his back, tearing him out of his thoughts and forcing him to stop reading the file he was holding. Turning around he noticed Y/N entering the office.

She couldn't help but let out a giggle at his angered expression before shrugging and raising her eyebrows.

“Not sure if anyone ever told you that, but Ray,” she started with a cheeky smirk, slowly becoming more serious as she took a step forward, her hand landing on his shoulder, pretending like she was massaging it. “it's not the best idea to casually stand by the door. You might get hit.” Y/N finished with a mockingly serious tone, causing him to roll his eyes and shaking her hand off his body.

“You’re in a strangely good mood. Found a penny on your way here?” He shot back, matching her tone, narrowing his eyes as she chuckled instead of rolling her eyes as she always does.

“Nope, just can't wait to finish my shift today.” She answered honestly, walking over to her desk and dumping her purse on it.

Seeing her in such an unusual state, Raymond felt a weird warmth which bothered him, like every unwanted feeling did.

“Don't worry, I'm sure your empty apartment and book won't mind if you come back late.” He said, more bitter than usual, seeing the lack of reaction.

“Actually I have plans. I don't know if you ever heard of such a thing.” She replied smoothly, slicking her hair back into a neat ponytail and keeping up the eye contact. Raymond laughed out loud, making her look at him weird.

“Yeah, sure, and I'm actually going bowling later.” He mocked arrogantly, shaking his head lightly and running his hand through his perfectly slicked back hair. Y/N felt the dig somewhere deep inside, but refused to let him see it.

“To each their own, but with your size it might be an issue to hold the bowling ball properly.” Y/N replied calmly, sitting down.

Her words hung in the air as Raymond chose to ignore her.

The entirety of her ten hour shift passed quickly, and before Ray even realized, she was gone. Once again, she left a trail of her intoxicating perfume and her perfectly neat desk.

His own desk, on the other hand, was covered in all kinds of papers, reminding him of the amount of work he willingly put upon himself.

Time always passed smoothly when he'd throw himself into the whirlwind of work. He reread some cases over and over until his sharp eyes picked up on details that an average Timekeeper wouldn't notice. That's why he was the best at what he did.

Sometimes a small crisis got a hold of him, filling his head up with unwanted thoughts about the lack of actual sense in his almost eighty year old life. Raymond would never allow himself to indulge into spiraling down memory lane, as the cloudy moments from his past would try to make their way into the view. Ten minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into three when finally he stopped his work. He felt the burning need for some nicotine.

Raymond rolled up his shirt sleeves, took one cigarette out of the box, and settled in his usual spot at the nearby window.

He watched the almost empty street in silence. His arm hung in the air with intentions of taking another drag when he suddenly heard a familiar giggle.

Narrowing his eyes, Raymond focused on the couple slowly walking down the street.

He saw a taller man with a sheepish smile in the company of a beautiful woman, wearing a tight but sophisticated black dress and heels with a denim jacket draped over her shoulders. An obviously oversized jacket. They talked while laughing every now and then. A smile was constantly plastered on her dark red lips.

If asked, Raymond wouldn't be able to answer why his jaw tensed so badly at the sight. He couldn’t explain how the burning in his body overpowered the burning on his fingers as the cigarette burned to the filter. Scoffing with pure anger, he threw the cigarette away before pulling down the blinds as he slumped into his chair.

His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing deepened. Raymond knew he wasn't wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair in a messy manner, ruining his perfect hairstyle.

He couldn't tell what infuriated him more; the way he reacted to the sight of Y/N accompanied by another man, or the way he subconsciously responded seeing her in such circumstances.

Taglist!

@kittenonpluto @candlelover @4ria790 @xsweetcatastrophe @cillianinlove @lau219 @theangelofbastogne @sasha28x @the-buddy-things

I can't tag some people, I don't know why. Sorry. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part! Bye!