#so anything they are okay with doing they let us do

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt finds out about your self harm.

Warnings: Self harm, mentions of not eating, angst, overall dark themes. Read at your own discretion.

A/N: Please reach out to hotlines if you are struggling, you are not alone <333

With love and big tits, Rose

wc: 1500+

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00: Not-so-sweet escape

Everyone needs an escape. Reality is harsh, too painful to bathe in every second of the day. All you wanted was something you could cope with, something that would make the ache of breathing sting a little less. 

It started small—very small. Sometimes you’d purposefully just not eat, purposefully make your body feel weak. But it escalated. Like everything else, the addiction became lethal. 

01: Fake it

You’re exhausted. Every bone feels like it’s withering away beneath your itchy skin. It’s like your body is reacting to your mind, mimicking how dead you feel. 

The bathroom is dark. You’ve been sitting on the cold tile for ages, wishing that the dark would somehow consume you. But it doesn’t. All it does is mock you in silence, the quiet peace haunting your running thoughts, jealousy burning through your face as you feel tears swell in your eyes. 

“Hey, do you wanna go out for ice cream?” 

Matt. He knocks softly, his brows furrowed as he sees the lack of light illuminating from the door gap from the floor. He’s worried. He doesn’t wanna say anything, he barely has a reason to be concerned other than the fact that he can just feel it—feel something awful as if it’s contagious. 

The lump in your throat is thick. You bite down hard on your inner cheek, letting the back of your head fall against the wall. “Yeah, that… that sounds like fun.” 

You don’t have it in yourself to do anything but pretend. 

02: Pretty Weak

It’s running smoothly until it doesn’t. The way you fake it is sometimes too convincing. You find yourself truly believing in hope until you’re alone again, feening for some sort of relief that you don’t think will ever come. 

The sun is rising, your mind is barely awake. Matt has your face nuzzled in his chest, his hand wrapped around the bottom of your thigh as he pulls you in even closer, kissing the top of your head lovingly. 

“You look so pretty,” he compliments. 

And then it stops. Those words trigger your body to stiffen just the slightest before falling lifelessly. You don’t feel pretty. And it wasn’t necessarily about your body either, it was your eyes. They looked so… dull—like something inside your body had failed, leaving you as some sort of corpse left to rot in reality. 

“I’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? You stay here, I wanna eat in bed with you.” 

His words are sweet, truly. But they make you feel guilty. He’s so full of love, everything good. And you’re full of… well, you’re full of nothing. Your blood feels like dust, your tears caressing your cheeks like dry clouds. 

It’s just so empty, so useless. 

As Matt leaves the room, you can’t help but stare towards the bathroom. You want it. You want it so bad. The relief is all that seems to linger when you recall memories of such a brutal coping mechanism. You can’t find it in yourself to search for the reasons why you stopped in the first place. 

But you don’t. You can’t. 

He’ll see it. 

Anywhere you put a single mark, Matt would always see it. You live together, he constantly helps get you dressed, sometimes you even shower together. But right now? Right now you just don’t care—not when you feel this unbearable urge, an unbearable itch. You need it. 

And the worst part? The worst part is that you feel so weak. Nothing bad has even happened. Your boyfriend’s making you breakfast after calling you pretty and somehow that isn’t enough to make you happy. 

03: Cope 

Relationships are supposed to be built and maintained on bricks of trust. And that’s what you have with Matt. Well, used to. You’ve been lying to him constantly, giving excuses, avoiding him like the plague—even though you feel like you’re the disease. 

But it’s just too much. You can’t put this on him, you won’t. Not when this isn’t his battle to fight, not when you gave into the past addiction so easily. 

“Sweetheart, do you wanna take a bath together? I got all the fun stuff,” he says excitedly, lifting items out of a plastic grocery bag, showing you all the best things—bubbles, candles, scrubs… everything. 

He didn’t do it for any other reason other than wanting to spend more intimate time with you. Physical touch is important to him. It doesn’t necessarily mean sex, but he craves your skin on his, he needs the rawness of being close to you. 

You feel bad rejecting the offer. In all honesty, it sounds so nice. But you can’t. Not when you know he’ll see it. Then he’ll worry. And he doesn’t need to worry. This helps you, he wouldn’t understand that. 

Matt’s shoulders slump as he tries to spare a small smile, not wanting to seem too disappointed. The awful guilt crawls up your chest, creating a lump in your throat. 

And there’s only one way to cope. 

04: He Knows

His heart feels like it’s ripping out of his chest. The more hints he slowly picks up on, the more he realizes what’s really going on. He doesn’t want to believe it. Denial is logical to him. Afterall, you’d tell him, right?

The trust he has for you is unfathomable, immeasurable. He’s certain you’d tell him. He’s certain he’d know immediately if things were that bad. 

And then he stops feeling the ripping of his heart in his chest. Instead, he hears it—a loud cry leaving his lips. 

Matt was never one to snoop. He respects your privacy more than anything. But he saw pink water resting above the shower drain after you had exited fully clothed. You’re not on your period, he knows that for a fact. And—you didn’t really shave in that quick of a shower. 

He knows. 

05: Lose

They’ve gone missing. Every tool you’ve ever used and hidden in your bathroom drawer—they’re just… gone. 

Your stomach drops, your fingers aching as you furiously shuffle through the miscellaneous products in your drawer, trying to find anything. But it’s not there. 

Matt couldn’t bring himself to fully confront you without knowing more. The pink water haunted him as he flipped through the pages of your journal, his stomach twisting in knots when he saw the dates trace back further and further.

How did he not know sooner? 

What if he had never known until it was too late? 

Even the thought makes him sick. He can’t fathom the thought of you completely out of his everyday life. He needs you. 

Matt hears you rummaging through the drawers, his chest shaking as he tries to take a deep breath. 

He’s just not ready to lose you. 

06: Lost

Horrified fear. The look on your face is viciously distraught, your hands twisting into fists as you sit on the edge of the bed, Matt’s voice ringing through the air. He explains the pink water, how he didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy, he was only concerned. 

Part of you is angry. You want to snap at him for going through your stuff. But he had a valid reason—he wasn’t wrong. 

“-and I’ll help. We can look into therapists, I’m here every step of the way–”

“You don’t understand, Matt.” 

Your words are bitter. Matt’s face scrunches, almost as if he’s in pain. It hurts to look at someone you love suffering—especially when they’re looking at you with pure hatred. And that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Although, you don’t hate him, you hate how he makes you see yourself. You’re weak. You couldn’t even reach out for help to your boyfriend who has never failed you. 

It could’ve been worse. He could’ve lost you. But as you walk out the door, it kinda feels like he has. 

07: Escape

Oh god it hurt his heart. The pain in his chest is the most brutal violence of emotions he has ever felt in his life. And he just wants it to stop, but he knows it won’t. Not when he’s holding you, consoling you as you scream at him. 

“I know it’s bad! I’m not fucking stupid, I just-”

Your words fall weaker, your fists hammering against his chest starting to unclench as you let out a sad cry.

“I just needed an escape.”

08: Revolving Door

Your cheek is raw from how often your teeth seemed to knaw into the muscle. Matt’s sitting on the desk chair, trying to not stare at you as you write down in a journal. 

You refused to go to therapy. The thought of saying everything out loud made you sick. So, this is the best he could come up with—put it on a page so it doesn’t have to rest in your mind. And honestly, it helped. It helped more long term than anything else.

But you just missed it—the immediate relief. 

Matt assures you that you’re not weak when you explain this to him. He’s there to let you cry and sit numbly, as long as he’s there to make sure you’re safe—not walking into the revolving door until you’re so scattered that you don’t even know how to get back out. 

He loves you—even if it’s not as a lover and just as a soul. He’ll hold open any door, take you places that make it easier to breathe. He makes you feel strong—strong enough to not turn back to that revolving door.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 27

masterpost This is just a first draft, please no concrit!

Danny wasn’t sure about this.

He should be. Bruce seemed sure about it. His… his siblings seemed sure about it. Babs seemed sure about it. But Danny… Danny couldn’t help but feel like he was forcing himself on another person. The fact that Annalise was dead didn’t help him feel any better at all. In fact, everyone had learned to avoid that point of argument after how upset it had made Danny the first time that Damian had tried it.

They didn’t get it, how could they? Death meant something different to them.

“Danny?” Dick’s concerned voice interrupted Danny’s thoughts. “Do you want something different to eat?”

Danny blinked down at the scrambled eggs that he had been idly pushing around on his plate for the last few minutes. The yellow lumps didn’t look very edible anymore. “Oh. Um, I guess another scone and some fruit?”

It was only Dick, Damian, Duke, and Bruce at breakfast that day. All the D kids. Jason had gone back home yesterday. Dick would leave today, but Tim would be back and maybe Cass. It was hard to have less of them there. It was hard to have them away where Danny couldn’t know they were safe. Danny tried not to make a big deal about it, he had to let them all start getting back to their lives. They had been giving up so much for him.

After swallowing a large bite of the scone Dick had passed him, Danny asked, “Can I see how changing back to my ghost form goes today?”

For just a split second, everyone at the table froze before they forced themselves back into motion.

“Of course. Do you want to do that after breakfast? I’d like myself or Dick to be with you, in case there’s a set back with your injuries,” Bruce said.

“I guess? I don’t know when Dick wants to leave,” Danny said with a glance between the two adults at the table.

“I don’t have to head out until early afternoon,” Dick chirped. “What’s work like for you, B?”

“Just an afternoon meeting that I’ll be attending virtually. Lucius knows there’s a family thing going on and is holding down the fort,” Bruce said.

“Lucius Fox,” Duke explained. “He keeps stuff running and Bruce on track.”

Bruce shrugged. “It’s true. He also knows about the family nightlife, which helps immensely.”

“I guess that after breakfast works,” Danny said as he picked a little at his scone. He was realizing that Bruce hadn’t actually seen his ghost form before. Damian and Duke hadn’t either, he didn’t think. It felt like a reveal even though it wasn’t. Danny met Damian’s searching gaze and gave a little bit of a shrug. “It’s just been a while since I’ve been in it. I guess I’m feeling, like, this itch about it.”

Damian gave a little nod. “A muscle that needs stretching. May I join Father and Grayson in the Cave to watch?”

A chunk of the scone broke off. Danny fumbled it slightly before just setting the pastry down on his plate. “Sure? I don’t know if it’s really going to be anything interesting. I’m guessing that I might still be pretty weak, so I don’t really plan to try much.”

“What sort of things can you normally do?” Duke asked as he mopped up the last of the egg on his plate with a piece of toast.

Danny resisted the urge to fidget with the scone again. “Oh, um, well flight is the most basic thing.”

“Please no flying too high or over open parts of the cave right now,” Bruce said with a slightly strained sounding voice. “I’d rather you not fall when we can’t safely catch you. When you think you’re stable, we can have a family friend over to spot you.”

“Oh. Sure? I mean, I’ve fallen before and I’ve been fine. It’s hard for me to take damaged in the form.”

“Still, Dandelion,” Dick said carefully. “We’d rather not risk you. Just put up with us being overly cautious for a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny replied on rote. He didn’t really get it. There hadn’t been any being careful before with Sam and Tucker, but he had been hurt around his new family a lot. “Um, other powers I have are to go invisible and intangible. And I can shoot some energy blast elemental things. There’s duplication too, but it’s, um… yeah. Not great and I don’t want to after…”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This is just what you need,” Bruce assured him. “No one is asking you to use your powers here unless it’s something that you want to do or need to do for your health.”

Danny gave a jerky little nod and looked away. “Right.”

“Come on, Dami,” Dick said as he stood, “let’s go run through some stretches so we can get some practice in before I leave.”

“I’ll let Alfred know you’ll still be here for lunch and that I won’t be. Group project,” Duke said and got up also.

It went from a pretty full table to just Danny and Bruce almost instantly. Danny nibbled on a chunk of the scone.

“Danny, what’s going through your head, chum?”

What was going through his head? “I just… I don’t know. My ghost half has always been for something. Sam wanted me to fight the other ghosts. My… anyways, experiments. I guess I don’t know how to talk about it after everything. I don’t know how to talk about it with all of you. You guys are out there being heroes all the time and… don’t you want to use my powers?”

Bruce moved to the seat next to Danny. He was so large that he loomed a little even when trying to seem smaller. Danny didn’t think he’d get that large. Not anymore, not after dying. Not after the years in a box.

Would Damian get bigger than him? Probably.

“In the Justice League, I’m the strategist,” Bruce said calmly. “There have been times in my life that I’ve been far too much the strategist. There have been other times in my life when I’ve tried to use strategy to cover up my fears and feelings and have hurt people. It’s something that I still have to work on, and I likely will for the rest of my life. I very much do not want to not screw that up with you. After everything you’ve been through, I want it to be as clear as possible that who you are and what you are isn’t something that I plan to use. The only one that gets to say what you use that for is yourself. You’re not an asset, you’re my kid.”

Danny blinked quickly. He didn’t want to cry again. “I don’t know if I know how to be a kid anymore.”

“I was horrible at being a kid,” Bruce said. “As were… well, a number of my children. But the good of that is, you don’t have to be a normal kid here. If for you being a kid is training Ursa and going flying and, I don’t know, building model airplanes then that’s fine. If at some point you do want to be part of the nightlife, then that will be fine too. You have all of us to figure those things out with you. And we’ll disagree sometimes, because we’re us, but that is alright too.”

Danny gave a slightly watery little chuckle. “Going to build model airplanes with me?”

“If that’s what you’re into, absolutely.”

“What if… what if part of what I want is to reach out to Jazz? What if I want her to help me figure out things too?”

“Then I just ask that you let us figure out how to do that safely first so that no one can find you here and come for you,” Bruce said.

“You’d really let me?”

“She’s your sister. You being part of this family doesn’t change that. In fact, Jazz welcome to be part of this family if she would like to be. But she can also not be and still be your sister.”

“Once it’s safe,” Danny said. “I’ll reach out once it’s safe for me and for Dami and Jason too. I won’t let them get hurt because of me.”

Bruce ruffled Danny’s hair. “I know you won’t. Just let us help with it. I don’t think any of us could take you running off like that again.”

Danny winced. “That… wasn’t my best moment.”

“Maybe not, but we all understand how you got to that point. I’m just glad that you were headed to me and that we got you back,” Bruce said with a little shrug. “Well, and that you didn’t get pneumonia from being injured and out in the rain.”

Danny stood when Bruce did, setting his napkin on the table. He tried not to seem like he was scrambling, but the formal meals were still a little much. “I’m glad about that too. I think I’ve been injured enough for a long time.”

“You really have been,” Bruce agreed. “Which is why I’d prefer no full on flying until we have either Superman or Superboy over to visit and spot you.”

“I won’t fall, I don’t think.”

“Still,” Bruce said with a little frown that seemed somehow dark.

“Oh, strategist. You can, like, picture it, can’t you? Me falling.”

“Far too easily.”

“Okay, yeah, no full on flying on my own until you know I won’t fall,” Danny agreed. “Even if I know you’d catch me.”

“We’d try our best to, chum, always.”

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

Okay you're thinking of this wrong. The "don't buy anything for 24 hours" thing isn't about how consumerist they are - it's something my own country recently did as well. It's less about how easy it is to do and more about the fact that there's always SOMEONE buying SOMETHING through just the sheer volume of customers. Even if everyone only ever buys things once a week - all days of said week are still gonna see huge sales.

Now imagine if for one of those days, there was NOTHING. No traffic. No customers. Zero. Nada. Zilch. Now, is that gonna happen? Fuck no, lol. There will always be people who aren't informed (somehow) or who just don't care. But if we all let something like "nobody is gonna do it anyway" stop us, that's exactly when the whole thing fails. I mean. So what if not everyone, or indeed the majority of people won't listen to it? Baby, the elites shit their pants the moment a town's worth of people organize for some protest. Don't get discouraged and don't let up. Make them sweat.

USA people! Buy NOTHING Feb 28 2025. Not anything. 24 hours. No spending. Buy the day before or after but nothing. NOTHING. February 28 2025. Not gas. Not milk. Not something on a gaming app. Not a penny spent. (Only option in a crisis is local small mom and pop. Nothing. Else.) Promise me. Commit. 1 day. 1 day to scare the shit out of them that they don't get to follow the bullshit executive orders. They don't get to be cowards. If they do, it costs. It costs.

Then, if you can join me for Phase 2. March 7 2025 thtough March 14 2025? No Amazon. None. 1 week. No orders. Not a single item. Not one ebook. Nothing. 1 week. Just 1.

If you live outside the USA boycott US products on February 28 2025 and stand in solidarity with us and also join us for the week of no Amazon.

Are you with me?

Spread the word.

[heliosunny]

Your writing is just… unbelievable! You’re doing such a good job, I hope you know that and you’re taking care of yourself (and your wrists!!)

May I request, if it peaks your interest, Yandere!Mydei x Reader, but slow-decent yandere over time as Mydei gets more possessive of reader, who they met when reader and Mydei accidentally bumped into each other in the market place, causing his pomegranate juice to spill on her. She didn’t mind, even licks a bit off of her to taste it before leaving, and runs a trinket shop for people at the edge of the market!

My wrists are doing okay- ;3

CROSSED PATHS

Yandere!Mydei x Fem!Reader

Mydei walked through the market with the same disinterest he always carried, he was all too familiar with this place. He wasn’t here for anything in particular, just taking the usual route through the stalls, a wooden cup of pomegranate juice in hand. The deep red liquid sloshed slightly as he moved, but he paid it no mind.

Then, before he could sidestep, someone walked straight into him.

The collision wasn’t violent, but it was enough to jostle his cup, sending the juice spilling forward. The rich crimson liquid soaked into the tunic of the person in front of him.

“Tch” Mydei clicked his tongue, already annoyed. “You should watch where you’re going.”

Instead of irritation, you simply looked down at the stain, then back up at him. Without hesitation, you ran a finger along the droplets clinging to your skin, bringing it to your lips and licking it off.

“Mmm. That’s good” you mused, amusement flickering in your eyes. “You’ve got good taste.”

Mydei stared, silent for a moment. He wasn’t sure what he expected your reaction to be, but it certainly wasn’t that. Most people would be frustrated, flustered, or at least make some effort to clean up. Instead, you stood there, completely at ease, as if the spill was nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

His gaze flickered to your clothes. “It’s ruined.”

You merely shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Gives me an excuse to close up early anyway.”

That caught his attention. “Close up?”

“I run a trinket shop. Just by the market’s edge.” You smiled, “Little things to catch the eye and heart.”

Mydei didn’t reply right away, just watching as you gave him a small wave and disappeared back into the crowd, as if this meeting was nothing more than a fleeting moment.

The next day, Mydei found himself walking toward the edge of the market, where the usual noise and crowd thinned out. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was just something to do. Either way, he figured he’d at least take a look at the shop you mentioned.

When he arrived, however, the place was closed. The wooden sign hanging on the door was tilted slightly, as if it had been left that way in a hurry.

What was the point of bringing up a shop if she wasn’t even going to open it?

He exhaled through his nose, about to turn back and head home, when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

There you were, walking toward the shop with a slow, lazy pace, arms stretching over your head as you let out a deep yawn. You looked half-asleep, hair slightly messy, and completely unbothered by the fact that most stalls had already been open since morning.

Mydei frowned. “Isn’t it late to be opening now?”

You blinked at him, then glanced at the sky as if just realizing the time. “Mm. Guess so.” You rubbed at one eye before giving him a lopsided grin. “But hey, better late than never, right?”

He stared at you. “That’s a terrible mindset for business.”

You only chuckled, fishing out the key and unlocking the door with an easy shrug. “Maybe. But I open when I feel like it. I still get customers, so it works out.”

That… was the most carefree approach he’d ever heard. He didn’t know whether to call it ridiculous or strangely impressive.

Instead of arguing, he crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the nearby post. “So, do you actually sell anything useful, or is it all just cheap junk?”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. “How dare you.” Then you grinned. “You’ll just have to come inside and see for yourself.”

And for some reason, Mydei didn’t immediately walk away.

As you pushed open the shop door, the scent of old parchment, polished wood, and faint traces of incense drifted into the cool evening air. The interior was warm, lit by scattered lanterns that cast soft golden hues across shelves packed with trinkets—intricate carvings, delicate charms, aged coins, and strange little oddities that seemed to whisper of stories untold.

Mydei stepped in behind you, arms still crossed as his sharp eyes swept across the shop’s interior. He made a low noise in the back of his throat—half curiosity, half scrutiny. He reached for a small wooden carving of a beast with jeweled eyes, turning it in his hand. “You actually sell things worth looking at.”

You laughed, stretching lazily before stepping behind the counter. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

He huffed, setting the carving down before moving to another shelf. “Take it however you want.”

He studied everything with an almost calculated interest, fingers skimming over old coins, testing the weight of metal trinkets, and occasionally raising a brow at something that caught his attention. He wasn’t the type to be easily impressed, but you could tell he wasn’t just humoring you—he genuinely found the shop interesting, even if he didn’t outright say it.

“You actually know what you’re selling” he muttered, inspecting an engraved pendant. “Not just collecting junk and hoping people buy it.”

You leaned on the counter, resting your chin on your hand. “Of course. Every piece here has a story. That’s what makes them special.”

Mydei glanced at you briefly, as if considering something, but before he could speak, a voice cut through the quiet.

“Mydei!”

A man rushed into the shop, breathing heavily, eyes scanning the space before locking onto him. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere—” He paused, glancing between you and Mydei before continuing hurriedly. “There’s trouble. You’re needed now.”

Mydei clicked his tongue in irritation but didn’t hesitate. He turned to you, nodding once. “Guess I’ll have to finish looking around another time.”

You waved a hand dismissively, grinning. “Take your time. The shop isn’t going anywhere.”

Without another word, he strode past the man and out into the night, disappearing as quickly as he had come.

Five days had passed since Mydei had left in a rush, and in that time, life went on as usual. Your shop saw a steady stream of customers—travelers looking for charms, locals browsing out of habit, and the occasional collector intrigued by the more unique items you sold.

The place was lively today, filled with chatter and the occasional sound of trinkets clinking together as people picked them up and examined them. You were busy handling coins, giving a customer change, when a familiar figure stepped inside.

At first, you didn’t notice him. Mydei wasn’t the type to announce his presence, and he simply stood near the back, scanning the shelves with his usual unreadable expression. He blended in well, quiet and observant, though his presence carried a weight that would eventually demand attention.

It wasn’t until you turned, momentarily catching a glimpse of something unusual in the dim light, that you really saw him. A few stray leaves were nestled in his hair, likely from his journey back to town.

Without thinking, you moved toward him, reaching up on your toes to pluck the leaves away. “You’ve been out in the wild, huh?” you mused, brushing the last one from his shoulder.

He barely reacted, only arching a brow. “You didn’t even notice me walk in, and this is the first thing you do?”

You grinned. “Well, you weren’t exactly loud about it.”

Just as you stepped back, a child rushed past, bumping into you at full speed. You stumbled, thrown off balance, and for a brief moment, you thought you might crash straight into Mydei—until his hand caught your wrist, steadying you with ease.

“Careful”

You let out a short laugh, regaining your footing. “Thanks. You could’ve just let me fall, you know.”

“And let you take me down with you? No thanks.”

The day continued, and surprisingly, Mydei lingered. He leaned against a shelf, watching as you worked, occasionally glancing at the customers but never interfering. He had no reason to stay, yet he made no move to leave.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the last customer stepped out, you stretched with a sigh, locking up the shop for the night. “Didn’t think you’d stick around that long”

“It’s dangerous,” he replied simply, arms crossed. “Beasts have been spotted near town. You shouldn’t walk home alone.”

“Oh? And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

He scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, he walked alongside you as you made your way home, the quiet hum of the night settling around you both. When you finally reached your door, he stopped a few steps away, watching as you unlocked it.

“This where you live?”

You nodded. “Yup. Cozy, isn’t it?”

He didn’t comment, only nodding slightly. “Stay inside at night.”

With that, he turned, disappearing into the shadows of the street.

You lingered for a moment, watching where he had gone before finally stepping inside. Something about him stuck with you, and despite his rough demeanor, you couldn’t help but smile.

The following days passed as usual. Customers came and went, some lingering to chat, others leaving with trinkets tucked away in their pockets. Yet, amidst the routine, you began to notice something—or rather, someone.

Mydei.

You never saw him enter the shop, nor did he ever buy anything, but you caught glimpses of him near the marketplace, often stationed in the same general area. He was never in armor, never dressed in anything that would mark him as a guard or knight, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made you wonder.

At first, you assumed it was coincidence. Maybe he just happened to be around. But as the days passed, you realized it was too frequent to be chance. He wasn’t a customer, yet he lingered. He wasn’t a merchant, yet he remained nearby. Still, you weren’t one to pry. If Mydei had business in the area, it wasn’t really your concern.

Then one evening, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, a group of men entered your shop.

You noticed them immediately—rough around the edges, their movements too casual, too calculated. They weren’t here to browse; their eyes weren’t on the merchandise. Instinctively, you stayed behind the counter, watching them with the same easy calm you always carried.

One of them stepped forward, idly picking up a small carved pendant. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks” you said.

He turned the pendant over in his hands before setting it back down. Another one looked toward the back of the shop as if expecting to find something—or someone.

That’s when you realized. They weren’t stealing. They were looking for someone.

Before you could say anything, a familiar voice cut through the tense silence.

“Took you idiots long enough.”

Mydei stood in the doorway. The men stiffened, immediately straightening like soldiers caught slacking off.

“Captain” one of them muttered under his breath.

Captain? Well. That explained a lot.

“Back to your posts” Mydei ordered, “Now.”

The men hesitated for only a moment before shuffling toward the exit, each one sending you a quick glance as if only now realizing their presence might have looked… suspicious.

Once they were gone, you turned back to Mydei, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “So, Captain, huh?”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t make a habit of announcing it.”

“You also don’t make a habit of staying in one place unless you have a reason.”

His gaze flickered toward you, unreadable. He didn’t confirm or deny it.

Instead, he only muttered, “They won’t bother you again.”

You shrugged. “Wasn’t really bothered to begin with.”

With a short nod, he turned to leave.

It was another evening at the market, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows as you prepared to close up shop. As usual, one of your friends—Edward, a vendor from a few stalls down—came by to help carry the heavier crates of unsold goods back inside. It had become routine by now, something neither of you thought much about.

“You really should hire someone for this” your friend teased, easily lifting a wooden box filled with carved trinkets. “One day, you’ll be stuck under a pile of your own stock.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “And ruin your chance to show off? I wouldn’t dare.”

The two of you worked smoothly, chatting about market gossip and the odd customers you had encountered that day. You didn’t notice Mydei at first, but he had been watching from a distance, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. He wasn’t even sure why he was still here. Yet, as he saw the easy familiarity between you and your friend—the way you smiled, the way they stood close—something in his chest tightened.

Before he could think twice, his body moved on its own.

He stepped in between you just as you reached for another crate, his hand easily grasping the handle before you could. “I’ll do it.”

“Mydei? Didn’t know you were in the business of heavy lifting.”

“You shouldn’t rely on random people.” He didn’t look at your friend, but the message was clear enough.

Your friend raised an amused brow but didn’t argue, instead watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled interest. “Not random” he pointed out, arms crossing. “I help all the time.”

Mydei didn’t respond. He simply hefted the crate as if it weighed nothing, walking into the shop with ease. You exchanged a glance with your friend, who smirked knowingly before waving you off and heading back to their own stall.

Once inside, you turned to Mydei, leaning against the counter with a grin. “Didn’t take you for the helpful type.”

He placed the crate down with a little more force than necessary, expression unreadable. “You’re careless.”

You tilted your head. “How so?”

“Letting just anyone help you. You don’t know what their intentions are.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re really that concerned?”

He scoffed but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced around the shop, as if checking for anything else to ‘help’ with.

Part of him wanted to say no—that it wasn’t concern, that he didn’t care. But the truth was, he did. More than he should.

“…Just be careful” he muttered at last.

You smiled. “Always am.”

The next day, the marketplace was bustling as usual, and you were busy sorting through a new batch of trinkets when Edward stopped by. It was nothing out of the ordinary—he often passed through to chat or lend a hand when he had the time.

“You’ve got something on your face” he said, leaning in slightly as he observed your face.

You blinked. “Huh? Oh.”

Before you could react, he carefully reached out, brushing the side of your face to remove whatever it was. The gesture was entirely innocent, but from an outside perspective—especially from a blocked or skewed angle—it might’ve looked a little different.

And unfortunately for Edward, Mydei happened to be that outside perspective.

From where he stood, partially obscured by a wooden post at the edge of the shop, all he saw was Edward’s face close to yours, his hand hovering near your cheek, and you standing there without pulling away.

In an instant, he was moving.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mydei’s voice cut through the moment.

Edward, startled, immediately pulled back and turned to see Mydei standing there—expression unreadable, stance tense.

You blinked at Mydei’s sudden entrance, then at Edward, then back at Mydei. It took you about two seconds to put the pieces together, and when you did, amusement curled at the edges of your lips.

Edward let out a short sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Relax, I was just getting something out of her eye.”

Edward, not one to test his luck, let out a low chuckle and took a step back. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He shot you a knowing glance before casually making his exit.

The moment he was gone, you turned to Mydei with a smirk, resting your chin in your hand.

“Wow” you mused, tone playful. “Didn’t take you for the type to interrupt people like that.”

He clicked his tongue, looking away. “I have to remind you that you don’t know what people’s intentions are.”

You tilted your head. “Uh-huh. And what exactly did you think was happening?”

He didn’t answer, but his jaw tensed ever so slightly.

Your smirk widened. “You’re like a big cat that’s always on edge.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“You know, the kind that watches everything, always looking ready to pounce if something gets too close.” You grinned. “Kinda cute, honestly.”

“… Stop talking nonsense.”

But despite his sharp words, Mydei stayed. Even when the conversation ended, even when there was no longer a reason to linger, he stayed.

Just like he always did.

----

The sun had long since passed its highest point when Mydei arrived at your shop, only to find the doors shut tight. No sign, no explanation, nothing. He frowned.

You never closed without warning.

For the first time in a long while, a foreign sense of unease settled in his chest. He told himself it was ridiculous—you were probably fine—but as the hours ticked by and the shop remained closed, that irritation grew into something sharper.

By the time dusk began creeping across the marketplace, he had already decided to check on you himself. But just as he moved toward the door, you finally appeared—yawning, stretching, completely at ease.

He stared. “Where the hell have you been?”

You blinked at him, rubbing your eyes. “Overslept.”

“…Overslept” he repeated flatly.

You grinned. “Yup.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. Here he was, thinking something might’ve happened, only for you to be completely unfazed, acting as if you hadn’t just left your shop closed the entire day.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you teased. “You worried?”

He scoffed, looking away. “Tch. You’re careless.”

“Well, since it’s already this late, might as well do something else.” You stretched again, eyes flicking to him. “What about you? Where were you headed?”

Mydei hesitated for a moment before answering, “…Camp.”

You tilted your head, interested. “Your camp, huh?”

“Not a place for civilians,” he muttered, already expecting you to drop it.

Instead, you grinned. “Sounds fun. Let’s go.”

His men were not prepared.

The moment you entered the camp, curious eyes peered from behind tents and around corners. Soldiers whispered among themselves, their gazes darting between you and Mydei like they had just seen a ghost.

Their captain—who barely tolerated company, let alone anyone outside of their ranks—had brought someone along? A girl?

Somewhere in the shadows, a small group crouched together, trying (and failing) to be discreet.

“She’s so… casual?”

“She’s actually talking to him.”

“She’s still alive.”

“Do you think she—?”

Before the last sentence could even be finished, Mydei turned sharply, his piercing gaze landing right on them.

“Out” he ordered.

There was a brief scramble of bodies before they all disappeared in a mess of quiet shouts and tripping feet.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. “They’re fun.”

“They’re idiots” he corrected, rubbing his temples.

You only hummed in amusement, following him to where a small campfire burned, casting warm flickering light over the clearing. Mydei sat first, and you settled beside him, close enough to feel the lingering heat but not too close to crowd him.

For a while, there was only silence—the crackling of fire, the distant sounds of the camp settling down for the night.

You stretched your legs out, gazing into the flames. “So, do they always eavesdrop like that, or was this a special occasion?”

“They’re not used to seeing me with company.”

You smirked. “Oh? So I’m special?”

He shot you a look, but the usual sharpness wasn’t quite there.

You leaned back on your hands, watching the embers float up into the dark sky. “Y’know, this is nice. I should close my shop more often.”

“…You must be crazy.”

But despite his words, Mydei didn’t look irritated. If anything, he stayed there longer than necessary, watching the fire, listening to your stories, and letting the quiet companionship settle between you.

The fire crackled between you, warm and steady, casting shifting shadows over Mydei’s face. He had been quiet for a while, arms resting on his knees, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the flames.

Then, without looking at you, he spoke.

“…I have a friend.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

He nodded slightly. “He’s… in a situation.”

You smirked, already catching on to where this was going. But you let him continue.

“This friend,” he went on, “has a crush on a girl.”

You bit back a grin. “Mhm.”

“He doesn’t know how to… approach her about it.” His words were carefully chosen, like he was trying not to make it obvious. “She’s carefree. Doesn’t seem to take things too seriously. He doesn’t know if she’d even notice.”

You hummed, tapping a finger against your chin in thought. “Sounds like this friend of yours thinks too much.”

Mydei shot you a look. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” you countered with a lazy grin. “If he likes her, he should just… y’know, show it.”

He frowned. “Show it how?”

You shrugged. “Small things. Stick around her. Do things for her. Make it clear she’s different from everyone else. And if he’s brave enough, tell her.”

Mydei went quiet for a moment, mulling over your words. You weren’t sure if he expected something grander—some complicated strategy—but you could tell he was taking your advice seriously.

And then, almost immediately after, he tested it.

A second later, he reached out, plucking a stray leaf from your hair with casual ease.

“…What” he muttered, glancing away like it was nothing. “There was something there.”

You stared. Then, slowly, a knowing grin spread across your lips.

“Mydei.”

He tensed. “What?”

“You’re predictable.”

“What are you talking about?”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “You’re following my advice already. You’re really bad at being subtle.”

He scoffed, looking off to the side, but the way his fingers twitched betrayed him.

You shook your head, amused beyond belief. “Well, tell your friend this—he doesn’t have to worry. I think the girl already noticed.”

-----

The shift was slow—so gradual you barely noticed at first. Mydei had always been watchful, lingering near your shop more than necessary, helping out in small ways that he’d brush off as coincidence. But then it started becoming… more.

You weren’t the only one to notice. The market folk whispered about it. Your friend Edward raised an eyebrow when Mydei always happened to be around. Even his own men exchanged looks whenever you visited the camp, though they were too scared to say anything outright.

And Mydei? He didn’t care what anyone thought.

But what truly set things in motion was when another man—some passing traveler—got a little too comfortable in your shop.

It was harmless, really. The man was just talkative, leaning in slightly as he complimented one of your handmade trinkets, flashing a charming smile. You, being as easygoing as always, just laughed and continued the conversation.

And Mydei, standing just outside the shop, watching from the shade of an awning, felt something snap.

The stranger’s hand briefly touched yours as you passed him a necklace.

That was it.

Before you could react, a shadow loomed behind you.

“You’re done here.”

The traveler barely had time to turn before Mydei was there, towering over him.

The man blinked in confusion. “Uh—”

“Leave.”

The traveler raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. “Didn’t mean anything by it, mate. Just chatting.”

“Chat somewhere else.”

The moment the man was gone, you turned to Mydei, raising an amused brow. “That was aggressive.”

He didn’t answer, his jaw tight, his fists still clenched like he was resisting the urge to chase after the guy and make sure he never even thought about coming near you again.

You grinned, nudging him. “You’re like a big cat again. All tense, ready to pounce.”

His gaze snapped to you.

“Mydei?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t like people getting too close to you.”

You smirked. “Well, if you wanted me all to yourself, you could’ve just said so.”

His eyes flickered, something snapping into place. And then, in one swift movement, he stepped forward, crowding your space, forcing you to take a step back until your spine brushed against the counter.

“Fine,” he said, “I want you to myself.”

“No more ‘friend’ nonsense. No more watching you let people touch you, talk to you like they have a chance.” His eyes burned into yours. “If you belong to anyone, it’s me.”

Silence stretched between you.

“…Wait, what?” You blinked. “You—what?”

“I said,” his voice didn’t waver, though you swore his ears were turning red, “I want you to myself.”

For once, you were actually stunned into silence.

“…Alright,” you said, still watching his expression closely. “Let’s test that, then.”

“What?”

“A test date,” you clarified, tilting your head. “If you’re serious, prove it.”

His gaze flickered, as if trying to gauge if you were teasing or not. But when he realized you weren’t laughing—when he saw that you were actually agreeing—something in him shifted.

Before he could respond, however—

“WOOHOOO!”

The loud cheering and applause from outside made both of you jolt.

You turned your head just in time to see a whole group of people—his soldiers, a couple of market vendors, even Edward—watching from the entrance of your shop, clapping and whistling like they had just witnessed the grand finale of a play.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE FINALLY SAID IT!”

“I OWE YOU FIVE COINS, EDWARD!”

“OUR CAPTAIN’S FINALLY A MAN!!”

A vein visibly twitched on Mydei’s forehead.

“ALL OF YOU—LEAVE! NOW!!”

In an instant, the group scrambled, tripping over themselves as they scattered like startled rats.

You, on the other hand, were barely holding back laughter. “Oh, wow. They’ve been waiting for this, huh?”

Mydei groaned, rubbing his temples. “…I’m going to kill them.”

You chuckled, nudging him. “Not before our date, you’re not.”

“…Fine.” He shot you a look. “But don’t think this is just a ‘test.’ I don’t intend to lose.”

“We’ll see, big guy.”

Mydei was not a romantic.

This became very clear about five minutes into the so-called “test date.”

You had expected him to be awkward—maybe stiff, maybe too serious—but you hadn’t expected him to treat it like some kind of mission.

The moment you met up, he stood there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, eyes scanning you like he was assessing the situation.

“…What?”

“I don’t know how these things work.”

“That’s the point of a test, isn’t it?”

He grumbled something under his breath, but then—without warning—he reached out and took your hand.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sudden contact. He held it firmly, almost too tight, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“…Too much?” he muttered, not looking at you.

You chuckled, easing his grip just slightly. “A little. You’re holding me like a prisoner.”

His ears turned red, but he didn’t let go.

The first thing Mydei failed at was conversation.

You both walked through the market, and while you tried to talk about casual things—the weather, your shop, the odd things you saw—he kept answering in single words.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.”

At one point, you just stopped walking and looked at him.

“…Are you planning on saying more than one sentence today?” you teased.

He frowned. “I don’t talk much.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

He shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. You realized then that he was actually trying—it just wasn’t coming naturally to him.

“Alright, alright. Don’t stress. Just—” You tugged his arm slightly. “Tell me something about yourself. Something no one else knows.”

His eyes flickered toward you, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer.

Then, finally, he muttered, “I hate spicy things.”

You blinked. “Huh. Really?”

He nodded.

“…So if I gave you a something spicy right now, you wouldn’t eat it?”

“…I’d eat it if you gave it to me.”

Oh.

The second thing Mydei failed at was dealing with people.

As you walked through the town, a few people—mostly men—stopped to greet you. Some were regulars at your shop, some just acquaintances. But every single time someone so much as looked at you for too long, Mydei’s grip on your hand tightened.

At one point, one of your regulars, a friendly merchant, smiled at you and asked if you were free later to look at some new goods.

Before you could even answer, Mydei cut in with a flat, “She’s busy.”

The man blinked. “…Oh. I—”

“She’s not available” Mydei added, tone sharper this time.

You sighed, nudging him. “Relax, I can speak for myself.”

Mydei huffed but didn’t say anything else. He did not like people taking your attention.

It was ridiculous. But… also kind of cute.

The third thing Mydei failed at was subtlety.

At some point, you stopped by a food stall, eyeing some skewered meat. The moment you reached for your coin pouch, Mydei immediately slapped money down before you could pay.

You raised an eyebrow. “I can pay for myself, you know.”

“No.”

“…No?”

He crossed his arms. “I take care of what’s mine.”

Your breath caught slightly at the phrasing. But before you could tease him for it, he shoved a skewer into your hands, looking away like he hadn’t just claimed you in the middle of a crowded street.

By the end of the day, you had to admit—he was bad at this.

And yet.

Despite all the failures, despite all his awkwardness and overprotectiveness, he tried.

And then, as the sun was setting, he did something that truly moved you.

You had mentioned offhandedly a few days ago that your favorite spot in town was an old bridge overlooking a quiet stream. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

But as evening fell, Mydei silently led you there.

You blinked in surprise as you stepped onto the bridge, the soft glow of lanterns reflecting in the water. The air was crisp, the sounds of the market distant.

“…You remembered”

He stood beside you, arms resting on the railing, gazing out at the water.

“I remember everything you say” he admitted quietly.

For a moment, you just looked at him—the way the fading sunlight touched his sharp features, the way his fingers tapped absently against the wood, the way he had tried so hard today just because he wanted to be with you.

And that was it.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Mydei froze.

You pulled back slightly, smirking. “You pass.”

It took him a solid three seconds to react. His face slowly turned red—first his ears, then his neck, then his entire expression.

“…Tch.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, looking away. But he didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he held it tighter.

“Guess I'll be bothering you from now on.”

“…I don't mind.”

[gf2bellamy]

Hiii

I was wondering if you could do established post prison spencer and shy reader, where he unintentionally calls her a pet name (preferably angel but anything sweet is fine!) and she gets all flustered and her brain short circuits, but he doesn’t notice. And then he does it again, but notices this time and decides to tease her about it. Thankyouuuu <3 (No pressure at all btw!)

angel — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship , use of nickname "angel" a/n: hi hi hi !! hope you like this <3 also this gif makes me weak in the knees

“Spencer, I’m home,” you called out. The scent of fresh pastries clung to the air, warm and sweet, as you held a paper bag.

You had left early this morning, well before the sun had fully risen, slipping out of bed carefully so as not to wake the man still tangled in the sheets.

Even then, Spencer had stirred, his fingers instinctively tightening around your waist in half-conscious protest.

“Be careful,” he had mumbled against the pillow, voice heavy with sleep, before finally—reluctantly—letting go.

Now, you heard the familiar sound of shuffling footsteps, followed by the soft creak of the bathroom door opening.

Moments later, Spencer appeared in the living room, still slightly disheveled, his damp curls sticking up in odd directions from his shower.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice still sounding slightly sleepy.

He stepped closer, taking the bag from your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“What did you get?” he asked, settling onto the couch and peeking inside the bag with curiosity.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you watched him rifle through the contents. “Your favorites,” you answered simply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Spencer hummed, pleased, but before he could reach inside, you beat him to it, pulling out the chocolate donut you had specifically gotten for him. You held it out to him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “Here. This was the last one, so you got lucky.”

His lips twitched in amusement as he took it from you, wasting no time before taking a bite. As he chewed, he leaned back against the couch, and with a familiarity that had long since become second nature, he reached for you—his fingers curling around your leg, pulling you closer.

Content, you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as he continued eating.

Then, Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring against your hair, “Thank you, angel.”

Your body froze.

Your brain short-circuited, replaying the word over and over again as if trying to make sure you had actually heard it.

Angel.

It was soft, affectionate, intimate in a way that made your heart stumble over itself.

Spencer, completely unaware of your inner turmoil, took another bite of his donut, his attention drifting elsewhere as if he hadn’t just turned your brain into static noise.

Meanwhile, you sat there, wide-eyed, practically vibrating with flustered energy.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath. Your face was on fire.

Spencer still didn’t seem to notice.

You weren’t sure if you should say something—should acknowledge it—or if you should just sit there, pretending that your heart wasn’t currently attempting to break the sound barrier.

Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in an attempt to steady yourself.

Spencer glanced down at you. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, though you weren’t entirely sure if that was true.

He simply wrapped an arm around you, tucking you closer against his side, and went back to eating as if he hadn’t just shattered your entire world with one simple word.

And despite the lingering flustered feeling in your chest, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t mind hearing it again.

A week had passed since that morning, and Spencer had been away on a case for the past two days. You missed him terribly.

Lazily, you curled up on his couch, wrapped in your favorite sweater of his—the soft, oversized one that still smelled like him.

A book rested in your lap, though you had read the same sentence at least three times now, too distracted to focus. You absentmindedly popped a blueberry into your mouth, sighing.

Then, you heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door.

Your heart leaped into your throat, and before you could even process it, you were already up on your feet.

“Hi!” you blurted out the moment Spencer stepped inside.

He barely had time to shut the door before you were in front of him, eyes shining with excitement. He let out a surprised chuckle, dropping his bags carelessly to the floor before immediately wrapping his arms around you.

The hug was bone-crushing, his grip tight as if he was trying to mold you into him, make up for every second he had been away. His lips pressed into the top of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

You melted.

“I missed you,” you murmured into his curls, rubbing slow circles against his back.

Spencer let out the softest sigh, like the tension of the last few days had completely unraveled just from having you in his arms.

His voice was muffled against your skin when he mumbled, “Missed you too, angel.”

Your entire body stiffened.

It was like your brain hit a glitch, your hands freezing mid-movement as your breath caught in your throat.

Angel.

Again.

For the second time, the simple endearment sent your mind into overdrive, your heartbeat stuttering as warmth spread through you like wildfire.

Spencer felt you tense and slowly pulled back, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied your face.

“What?” he asked, his expression shifting into one of confusion.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, but nothing came out.

He tilted his head, clearly confused, before realization flickered across his face. His lips curled into the beginnings of a knowing smirk.

“Oh,” he said, drawing out the syllable.

Your face immediately burned.

Spencer’s smirk deepened. “Wait a second.” His voice took on a teasing lilt, and suddenly, you knew you were doomed.

You turned away, ready to escape the conversation entirely, but Spencer was faster. He caught your wrist with ease, gently tugging you back toward him. “Hold on, hold on,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Spencer,” you warned, refusing to meet his gaze.

“What is it about me calling you angel that makes you completely malfunction?” he mused aloud, his tone far too pleased with himself.

You huffed, attempting to wriggle free, but he only pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur.

“Angel.”

You swore your brain turned to static.

Spencer laughed softly as you buried your face in his chest, too flustered to function properly. “That’s cute,” he said, resting his chin atop your head. “I’m definitely calling you that more often.”

You groaned in protest, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you.

Maybe you didn’t mind so much after all.

[bblairxe]

saw the cait masterlist was a tad empty.. could i request cait using strap on virgin!reader for the first time and making her squirt??

make a mess for me, love.

caitlyn kiramann x virgin ! reader . strapping (r!receiving) . use of ‘mommy’ . strap is referred to as ‘cock’

“oh, what the fuck is that.”

your appalled expression and vulgar words elicits a giggle from caitlyn. you were referring to the deep blue phallic object resting on her bed. from your standpoint, you could see veins running up and down the sides, along with the slight curve plus the unfamiliar mushroom tip.

“it’s called a dildo, darling, or in this case, a strap.” caitlyn answers, taking your hand in hers and guiding you towards the bed.

“cait— baby, i can’t take that. that’s at least like what, 9 inches?”

“6.5 to be exact.”

“same thing, still big, still probably going to rip me open.”

she takes a step behind you, wrapping her long, slender arms around waist. you melt into her touch, tilting your head to give her access. she takes the bait and peppers loving kisses all over your neck. “i’ll be nice and gentle with you sweetheart. let mommy take care of you, mhm?”

you hesitate before responding. you know caitlyn wouldn’t put you through any thing you couldn’t handle. you also knew if you didn’t want this you could just say no and she’ll back off. but a part of you wanted the challenge.

you wanted to prove that you could take it, and hell, you’d be lying if the thought of her thrusting in and out of you didn’t turn you on. it takes you a moment to decide, your mind shifting between the lewd object, the way her hands tease at your waistband, her sweet voice whispering in your ear until you finally give in.

“okay, we can try it.”

needless to say you were absolutely loving it.

“oh, god, cait, y-you’re so deep.” your moans echo throughout the room, pushing your hips to meet hers.

“i know, angel. can see myself on your stomach.” she traces the bulge on your lower tummy, then applies just a bit of pressure on it with her hand. another loud whine leaves your lips, and she just smirks. “you sound so good, making a mess all over my cock.”

you give her a weak nod, your body not allowing you to do anything else but grip onto the satin sheets. your mind grows dizzy as she hits your g-spot with every thrust. it’s intoxicating, you can’t get enough, but there’s something else you need.

clearly, you’re unsure of what it is, and the unforgiving pace of her thrusts isn’t helping you think either. you don’t know how to tell her, so you settle for her name, well, you try to.

“c-cait, i, need, need more, please.”

“yeah? tell me, baby, let me help you.”

“d-don’t know, can’t think— oh,” your words are cut short with a sharp inhale. her slender fingers wrap around to work steady circles on your clit, making you see stars.

“this what you needed, dear? mommy’s been neglecting this poor clit for too long, hm?” she coos, keeping her voice sweet and alluring. you give her another weak nod, followed by a string of ‘yes, yes, yes.’

her hand finds the curve of your back and pushes it down, but she keeps your hips perched up. the new angle makes her tip hit your g-spot perfectly. you could cum any minute now, but something didn’t feel right. she notices how your muscles start to tense and your grip on the sheets tighten. that was something you never did and it made her panic, in fear she was hurting you or doing it wrong.

her pace slows, no longer slamming into you—just letting the tip slide in and out. she alleviates the pressure on your clit, moving her fingers in slower, lighter circles. “you okay? talk to me, sweetheart.”

“close, mommy. really, really close, but i think i have to pee.”

she lets out an airy chuckle of relief, reaching her hand up to cradle your face. “you’re not gonna pee, just let it out. cum for me, love.”

it only takes a few more strokes before you’re making a mess all over her, soaking the sheets beneath you. a wave of euphoria washes over you, barely registering caitlyn’s sweet words trying to lull you back to earth.

she pulls out of you and removes the harness from her hips, immediately wrapping you in her embrace. “you did so good, darling. took my cock so, so well, just like i knew you would.” she whispers, her lips grazing the top of your ear.

it doesn’t take you long to fall into a deep state of slumber, the last thing being on your mind is cait and her loving voice.

[odd-lil-duck]

A story!

Gumdrop was sitting in class, bored out of her mind. She was too smart for the regular classes but not smart enough for any of the advanced classes. She could keep up with her school work easily enough. Math was the subject she excelled at, though she could spend hours in her literature class. It was the first class of the day and by the time school was over with, she couldn't wait to go home.

x

"Yoooo!"

A voice was coming up behind Gumdrop. She turns around to find Citty Kat running up to her. Citty Kat was always beaming and ran around like sunshine was trailing behind. Today seemed no different. They ran up to Gumdrop out of breath. "Hey! Wait! Wait up!" Gripping their sides as if they had nothing else to hold.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah no totally!" They finally straightened out. "I just needed to tell you something!"

Something? Gumdrop and Citty Kat haven't known each other long, but Gumdrop could not help but be cautious anyway.

"Are you doing anything after school?" They asked.

"No...?" How important was this if they had to wait till after school to tell her?

"Good! Let's find Andre! We need to bring him with us too!"

Andre?

What does Andre have to do with anything?

x

They both found him outside the boy's bathroom. His last class of the day was P.E. so he just finished changing back to his shorts and long sleeve shirt.

"Yoooo!" Citty Kat was waving their arm around crazily to catch his attention. Gumdrop let her attention drift to the falling leaves.

"Is everything okay?" Worry spread across his face rapidly. His arms drift back to their normal place crossed over his chest

"C'mon let's go!" Citty Kat pulls him by the arm and begins running off, leaving Gumdrop to follow behind. She sighed and trudged along.

x

Citty Kat n Andre stop in front of the doors of some fast food restaurant. Through the windows it's busier than usual. Gumdrop catches up to them and stops in front of the doors. Citty Kat turns to them and speaks.

"Alright! Are you guys ready?" The two turn to each other in confusion.

"Ready for what?" Gumdrop knows they mean no harm - that's why she followed them - however what little she knows about them is that they are a very spontaneous, almost chaotic force. They do as they please and follow the wind in its spirit.

Citty Kat points to the sign on the window. "They have Buy 1 Get 1 Free burgers right now! We have to get some! Mandatory!"

"Wh- that's it?" Andre couldn't help but be more suspicious.

"The food here is sooo good! I've been saving up for a while and then I see the sign today!"

Gumdrop couldn't be any more underwhelmed. She turns to leave.

"No wait don't go!" Citty Kat cried out. "Just trust me on this, you won't regret it!"

Gumdrop sighed. She turned back to the doors. A wide small spread across Citty Kat's face.

"Alright let's go!" They all march in one after the other.

x

The line is longer than usual, giving the kids a few minutes to talk.

"Okay!" exclaimed Citty Kat. "Anyone have any food allergies? Any food icks? Anything?"

"N-no. Nothing like that." Andre shook his head. Gumdrop wordlessly shook hers.

"Okay! Stay right there!" Citty Kat goes ahead to the line, leaving the two alone.

Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, the silence growing almost unbearable. Andre shifts uneasily on his feet. Gumdrop keeps her arms crossed, waiting.

"So," Andre breaks the silence between them. "I noticed you keep sitting at the same spot at lunch alone."

"And I noticed you keep sitting at my spot at lunch," Gumdrop responds. Andre begins to fidget with the hem of his shirt.

"It's the only place, uh, away from everyone else, Idk I just needed to get away from everyone," his voice dropping to a whisper, "If you want me to leave then I can, uh, I can stop sitting there."

She turns to look at him. His head has dropped down, eyes turned to the floor. His hands are still on the hem of his shirt. His sneakers are pointed inward. The hat covering his head of hair starts to sag a bit.

Gumdrop sat on this for a moment. She has discovered her god was a false god, but she was still a student of his teachings. Her mind led her in one way, but her instincts.....

Sighing, she speaks her mind.

"I don't mind."

Andre perks up.

"you- you mean it?"

He looked like someone just gave him a puppy, thought Gumdrop.

"I just, I need my space. I need a moment to myself."

"Of- of course." Andre couldn't help but feel more than grateful.

"So-"

"Okayyyy!! I have the food!!" The smell was wafting through the air as it grew closer to the two. "Alright! Let's go find a table!"

x

"Go on! Give it a try!" Citty Kat smiles with expectation and excitement. They had placed the two burgers in front of the other two. Gumdrop couldn't help but feel uneasy at the sight of so much grease. She looked up to see Andre take a bite. His eyes were showing no more regrets in life, as if he had found the reason for living.

Citty Kat had looked at Gumdrop.

"Did you wanna try it?"

Gumdrop glances back to the burger. She picks it up in as much of a dignified manner as one can have while eating a burger. Finding the perfect bite, the texture floods in first. The flavor then seeps through the grease and various juices. The synergy creates a medley of different emotions and experiences all at once.

"Good, right?" Gumdrop snaps back to reality. Andre is most halfway done with his. Citty Kat is sitting there with an expectant smile on their face. "You liked it, right?"

Gumdrop chews a bit more thoughtfully, savoring every last sensation this burger intended to bring.

"Hm... This..." She couldn't help but ponder, trying to think of the best way to describe it. "This might be the best burger I've ever had."

Citty Kat's smile somehow grew even wider. They chew off the end of a fry in satisfaction.

"Wait but, where's your burger?" Andre began. "Why are you only eating the fries?"

"Oh, I don't like burgers." Replied Citty Kat. "I only really eat the fries and nuggets." They continued to munch on some more fries.

Gumdrop glances at Andre and then turns her attention back to Citty Kat. "So if you weren't going to eat the burgers from the burger place, why bring us? What is the point of anything?"

Citty Kat shrugged their shoulders. "Well, because it's fun! You guys try new things with me and I get to eat my favorite food! Win win!" Citty Kat grinned.

A look of confusion spreads across Andre's face followed by realization. Gumdrop let's out a sigh. They continue to eat in peace, Citty Kat rambling on about their day, Andre chiming in with facts about Pokemon, and Gumdrop sitting idly, listening to her two new friends while eating her new favorite burger.

how would one of your OCs react to a HUGE burger and delicious seasoned french fries?

[dixons-sunshine]

Doctor’s Orders | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

(GIF isn’t mine)

Summary: Sick and pushed to his limit, Daryl shows up back home, battered, bruised and sporting a fever. However, you were there to take care and make sure that the archer got the care he needed.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria

Warnings: Swearing, sickness, mentions of bruises, allusions to worse injuries.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: This was originally meant to be posted for day one of an event, but since I’ve been slacking on writing lately, that never happened. So instead, I decided to post it around the same time in February as the first fic I ever posted in the TWD fandom as a way to honour one whole year of writing and posting here (this fic is similar to that one, but still different). Anyways, I hope y’all like this!

“Daryl, oh my god...”

Daryl winced at the sound of your voice. Despite the low tone you used when you addressed him, the sound still reverberated through his skull, forcing the archer to shut his eyes in an attempt to will the incessant pounding away. He really wished that he had not opted to go on the run that morning. Although Daryl could usually endure a lot and he was no stranger to pain, the amount of bruises, deep cuts and blood that littered his body made it damn near impossible to focus on anything except how bad everything ached.

Daryl had been pushed to his limit, and it definitely showed.

With an exhausted sigh, the crossbow-wielding archer stepped further into the home he shared with you, lowering his most trusted weapon to lean against the wall. Before he could even attempt to do anything else, you were in front of him, gently cupping his face in your hands as you checked him over. The gasp you let out told Daryl that he must definitely look as bad as he felt—and it certainly did not help that he had already been sporting a fever that morning, one that seriously hindered his ability to think clearly whilst on the run.

“Dar, how did you end up like this?” you inquired in a stern voice. You released his face from your grasp and instead opted to grab his hand instead, gently pulling him with you to the couch. You urged him to lower himself onto the plush cushions, and you did not miss the way he sighed in relief when he finally got off his feet.

Daryl did not respond instantly. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts, the pounding in his head making it difficult to do so. “Fever,” he began, his voice hoarse and his throat scratchy. “Didn’t—couldn’t think clearly while on the run. Misjudged the amount’a walkers that were in the buildin’. Took a tumble down the stairs when trynna escape.”

You looked at him in disapproval, a look Daryl hated, because it was a look that you only gave to him when he seriously messed up. “Daryl—”

“M’fine,” he cut you off. “Ain’t nothin’ I can’t bounce back from.”

Despite what he thought was reassurance, you could clearly tell that he was indeed not fine. When you had cupped his cheeks a few moments prior, you had nearly yanked your hands away, that is how hot he was. He was burning up, and you could clearly note the scratchiness of his throat when he spoke. He was sick, and had overexerted himself immensely. He needed to be taken care of, and soon.

“You’re not fine,” you insisted. Before he could voice his protest, you cut him off. “You are not fine. You’re burning up and you’re clearly hurt. If this is ‘fine’, I don’t even wanna know what your definition of ‘not fine’ is.” You sighed and shook your head. “Just… Just let me take care of you, okay? I hate seeing you like this.”

Daryl bit his lower lip, but hesitantly nodded regardless. “Alright,” he agreed, his voice surprisingly soft. “Whatcha want me to do first?”

“Think you can manage taking a shower on your own?” you asked, sighing in relief.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then get yourself cleaned up and get your ass in bed. I’ll handle the rest,” you told him, your gratefulness towards his compliance clear as day on your face. And as Daryl peeled himself away from the comfort the plush cushions of the couch provided him, he realized then and there that he would move heaven and earth if it meant you would look at him like that again, a look of pure, unadulterated love and care.

“Okay. I come bearing healing supplements. Tea, soup, some Tylenol for that fever of yours, water, and some ointment and bandages.”

Daryl smiled up at you from his position on the bed. “Thanks,” he told you, his ocean-coloured eyes following your every move as you placed the tray down on the bedside table. “There ain’t no need for them bandages, though. Fixed myself up after the shower. Didn’t want ya to go through the trouble.”

You sent him a pointed look. “Really? Or was it because you didn’t want me to see how bad your injuries really were?” When Daryl hesitated, you sighed and shook your head. “Daryl—”

“I promise m’fine, alright?” he cut you off, clearly not wanting you to worry about him so much. “Sure, them bruises and shit hurt, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle. ‘Sides, m’pretty sure my fever s’a cause for concern, yeah? Why don’t ya help with that?”

You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was trying to make you focus on one thing to stop you from focusing too much on something worse. In this case, he wanted you to focus on his fever instead of the injuries he wanted to keep hidden from you for as long as he could.

You sighed, but nodded nonetheless. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that, right?”

Daryl’s lips quirked up into a small smile at that. “And yet ya love me.”

“Only god knows why,” you joked, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. You leaned forward and brushed his damp hair out of his face, pursing your lips at the heat that pressed against your palm. “Okay, Tylenol time. Right now.”

Daryl chuckled hoarsely and took the two pills you handed him. He swallowed them with the water and let out a huff of breath, one of the pills momentarily getting caught in his throat before sliding down with another sip of water.

“Thanks. I hated that,” he attempted to joke, managing to crack a small smile when you laughed.

“I don’t care. It’s gonna help break that fever of yours.” You reached over and carefully grabbed the bowl of soup you had made for him. Well, made was a stretch. It was canned soup that you had heated up for him, but by the way he started devouring it the moment you gave it to him, one would think it was home-made. Nevertheless, you found it rather endearing regardless.

“Mm,” Daryl hummed, slurping the soup from the bowl, not even bothering to use the spoon.

You laughed and shook your head. “Good?”

“Mhm,” he hummed again and lowered the now-empty bowl to his lap, some soup dribbling down his chin. “Real good.”

Reaching forward, you gingerly wiped at his chin, the thick liquid sticking to the back of your hand. “I can tell,” you teased him, wiping your hand on your pants.

Daryl didn’t feel ashamed. You had seen him do far worse than eat like a toddler. He simply gave you a little smile, leaning back against the headboard and sighing in relief when you grabbed the water bottle and pressed it against his forehead, the coolness working into his fever ridden skin.

Your heart ached for the archer. His stubbornness would be the death of him one day. You were all for independence, not about to let someone take yours away from you, but when it came to things like this? Something that could have been soothed and tended to early on and would have prevented his current state? You had to remind yourself to not be anything but caring. That was the way he had been forced to live, and it would take love, care, and patience to let him know that he didn’t need to be that guarded.

And with the world in shambles, you had nothing but time on your hands most days.

“Why did I have to fall in love with someone so goddamn stubborn?”

That took Daryl by surprise. However, he simply shrugged. “Don’t know. Lapse in judgement, I guess,” he joked.

You shook your head with a fond smile. “No. No, that’s not it. It was a rhetorical question. I’m glad I fell in love with you. The stubbornness is just something that’s… part of your charm. And I love all of you, so I guess I love that, too.”

Daryl’s lips twitched into a half smile. He took the water bottle from your grasp and placed it down on the bedside table. “If ya say that again without scrunching your face as much, it might be believable.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed and grabbing the empty bowl from his lap. “I’m gonna go refill this. What you’re gonna do is drink that tea and get more comfortable.”

Daryl quirked an eyebrow at that. “S’that so?”

“Yup. Doctor’s orders, Dixon.”

The archer scoffed, but smiled and reached over to grab the mug with his tea. “Yes, ma’am.”

[rachetmath]

Jaune and Yang Battle

Yang: Jaune.

Jaune: What is it Yang?

Yang: Fight me!

Jaune: Why?

Yang: Just cause.

Jaune: Did someone bet on this? Nora? Weiss? Neon? Emerald?

Yang: No just-

Jaune: Then no I’m not fighting you.

Yang: You scared of me.

Jaune: I mean, yeah, but mainly I don't see a point. Considering your record.

Yang: I have a clean record.

Jaune: Mercury, Haven Academy, you could barely touch him.

Yang: Don’t count.

Jaune: Neo, Atlas and Ever After you barely fought her and she whooped you.

Yang: Don’t count.

Jaune: Salem.

Yang: Okay that ultimately doesn’t count. She’s immortal!

Jaune: Then what counts Yang? Adam, who you tag-teamed with Blake.

Yang: Hey I carried that fight.

Jaune: Neon and Flynt which you got lucky by the way.

Yang: Now hold up Jaune. I beat them fair and square.

Jaune: Look I just don’t see the point.

Yang: So you pussy.

Jaune: Guess so. Unless I have reason then you are out of luck. Ask Ren.

Yang: Okay, if you win I will do whatever you want.

Jaune: Whatever I want?

Yang: Yes.

Jaune: Anything?

Yang: Yes.

Jaune: Okay. Let’s go.

Yang: Oh I'm so going to kick your-

Later on after the fight.

Raven: So he beat your ass?

Yang: Yeah.

Raven: And he didn’t even ask you to do anything sexual?

Yang: No.

Raven: Just spend time with me?

Yang: Yeah.

Raven: Damn. So what if I don’t want to spend time with you?

Yang: *points*

Raven: *sees Jaune*

Jaune: *screams in the distance* Don’t think I forgot about my village bitch! Don’t think because you are a maiden I’m scared to face you! Don’t think that! Don’t think that! I know where your baby daddy lives too. Don’t make me go to him, I will! You know what I’ll kill your brother too. Cause both you Branwens had me f**** up. Don’t believe me? Test me! Come and see if I don’t have that dog in me. Come and try me!

Raven: Okay. He is crazy. Well, my beautiful daughter, let’s at least spend an hour-

Jaune: What?

Raven: Three hours.

Jaune: What?!!

Raven: The whole day together. Come on.

Jaune: That’s what I thought pussy.

Qrow: Aye kid you-

Jaune: *demon voice* DON’T TALK ME QROW! GO SPEND TIME WITH YOUR NIECE BEFORE I MAKE YOU SEE CLOVER AGAIN!

Qrow: Okay. Okay. Calm down. I'm out.

Jaune: F***** bum ass- man I-I miss my family. When can I go home?! Damn. I have no partner. No money. No respect. Damn, I- I got nothing. Shit! I might need make a new friend or something because at this rate I'll be a villain.

In hell.

Adam: Damn.

Roman: Damn.

Hazel: God Damn. I feel sorry for him.

In heaven

Ironwood: Damn. I feel his pain.

Lewis: That is sad.

Alyx: *hiding behind Penny*No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!

Penny:*trying to defend them both* Friend Pyrrha, please I apologize.

Summer: *holding Pyrrha down* Pyrrha, calm down young lady.

Pyrrha: Let me kill em. Let me kill em!

Marvel

Peter: Come to this side Jaune. I could use some company.

Fandom Universe

Fan made Jaune: I mean I may not be the overpowered character but at least I get something done.

Friend AU Jaune: I know the feeling man. It will get better. Probably.

[scoupsakakitty]

Gym Crush | idol!Mingi x Reader | fluff

Mingi wiped the sweat off his forehead, his heart racing—not just from his workout but from the sight of her. Y/N. The girl he had seen only a handful of times at the gym, yet somehow, she occupied his thoughts more than he would ever admit.

As an idol, his schedule was unpredictable, making it difficult to keep a consistent gym routine. He never knew when he’d run into her again, but each time he did, he felt like the universe was playing matchmaker. And today, fresh off his European tour, it seemed like fate was once again on his side.

She was there.

Same spot, same routine. Mingi took a deep breath, trying to think of a way to approach her. He had never been one to shy away from talking to people, but with her, it felt different. He didn’t want to come across as weird, nor did he want to make her uncomfortable. He watched as she adjusted the weights for her set and—

She struggled.

Without thinking, Mingi rushed over, his hands instinctively reaching out to support her.

“Careful,” he said, his deep voice laced with concern. “Let me help.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide as he easily lifted the weight back into place. She let out a small sigh of relief, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you. I thought I could handle it, but guess not,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.

Mingi chuckled, shaking his head. “Happens to the best of us. You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Just a little embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Everyone needs help sometimes.” He hesitated for a second before adding, “I’m Mingi, by the way.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, an amused glint in her eyes. “I'm y/n and uhm yeah I know.”

Mingi blinked, caught off guard. “You do?”

She let out a soft laugh. “I’d have to live under a rock not to. You’re Mingi from Ateez.”

His lips parted in surprise. She didn’t sound like the typical excited fan. Instead, her tone was calm, casual. Almost as if she was used to being around idols.

“You’re not surprised,” he pointed out, crossing his arms.

Y/N shrugged. “I don’t want to lie. I am a fan. But I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position or make you uncomfortable by approaching you first.”

Mingi grinned, something warm spreading through his chest. “That’s… really considerate of you.”

They ended up talking for a little longer, lingering near the weights. The conversation flowed easily, and before Mingi knew it, he had invited her for an iced Americano after their workout.

At the café, Mingi sipped his drink, watching as Y/N stirred hers absentmindedly.

“So, be honest,” she said suddenly, looking up. “How bad was my form back there?”

Mingi laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. Just a little off.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. “I knew it.”

“I could teach you,” he offered. “Form, I mean. Or anything else fitness-related.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Oh? So you’re a personal trainer now?”

“Multitalented,” Mingi joked, leaning back. “But honestly, I’m better at dancing than fitness.”

“That’s true,” Y/N admitted. “Your dance skills are insane. I wish I could move like that.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow. “You dance?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, not at all. I mean, I try, but I’m terrible at it.”

“I could teach you,” he said again, this time with more enthusiasm.

Y/N looked at him in disbelief. “Mingi. If I couldn’t even lift that weight properly, what makes you think I can handle choreography?”

“Who said anything about choreography? We can start small. TikTok dances.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “That sounds even worse.”

“It’ll be fun,” Mingi insisted. “Come on. Let’s meet up in two days. I’ll take you to the KQ practice room.”

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. But there was something about Mingi’s excitement that made it hard to say no.

“Fine,” she relented. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Two days later, Mingi picked her up, leading her to the famous KQ practice room. The mirrors, the polished floors, the dimmed blue lighting—it all felt surreal to Y/N.

“So this is where the magic happens,” she murmured, taking it all in.

Mingi grinned. “Yup. Now, let’s see what you got.”

Y/N groaned. “I told you, I have nothing.”

“We’ll change that,” he assured her. “Let’s start with something simple.”

For the next hour, Mingi guided her through basic movements, laughing when she tripped over her own feet. She was hesitant, shy, but Mingi found it endearing.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he teased.

Y/N huffed. “I am flustered! This is embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re trying, and that’s what matters.”

Despite her protests, they managed to complete a TikTok dance, recording it just for themselves. Y/N watched the playback with a grimace, while Mingi laughed proudly.

“I give up,” she sighed dramatically. “I’m a lost cause.”

Mingi nudged her playfully. “Nah. This just means we need more practice sessions.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying we should meet up more often?”

He smirked. “Only if you want to.”

Y/N pretended to think about it before smiling. “Alright, Teacher Mingi. Let’s do it.”

Mingi grinned, knowing that this was just the beginning of something special.

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel It- Part 6

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Previous Parts Here

Summary: You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

Part 6- Mixed Signals and Missed Chances

•••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning, you woke up with a sinking feeling in your chest.

The living room was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft breathing of your still-sleeping friends. Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest.

You sat up slowly, your body stiff from sleeping on the couch. The blanket that had been draped over you pooled in your lap, and you immediately knew it wasn’t yours.

It was Rafe’s.

Your stomach twisted.

The events of last night came rushing back—Rafe in the kitchen, the almost-kiss, the way you had pulled away. The way he had looked at you before walking off, frustrated, disappointed.

And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

You glanced around the room, taking in the mess of empty bottles and discarded jackets. Brooke was curled up in an armchair, Paige was on the other end of the couch, and Topper was stretched out on the floor with a pillow covering his face.

But no Rafe.

You let out a slow breath, your pulse hammering in your ears. You needed to leave before anyone woke up, before you had to deal with the awkward aftermath of last night.

Carefully, you slid the blanket off and got to your feet, grabbing your bag. Your shoes dangled from your fingers as you tiptoed toward the door, wincing at every creaky floorboard.

You hesitated for just a second—just long enough to wonder if you should say something, leave a note, anything.

But you didn’t.

You slipped out of the house without looking back.

It wasn’t even an hour later when your phone buzzed with messages from the girls.

BROOKE: where did you go??

MIA: ummmm excuse me??? Did you just vanish???

PAIGE: she’s avoiding us. Criminal.

Your phone buzzed nonstop as you walked home, but you ignored it until you were back in your room, tucked under the covers, pretending last night hadn’t happened.

YOU: sorry, woke up early and just decided to leave, wasn’t feeling great

You stared at the message for half a second before pressing send. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Brooke was the first to reply.

BROOKE: uh huh. sureee

MIA: well, hope you feel better bc we’re all going out tonight!!! live band at the club, it’s supposed to be really good

PAIGE: and by ‘really good’ she means full of hot, rich guys willing to buy us drinks

You hesitated. The last thing you wanted to do was go out and pretend everything was fine, especially if Rafe was going to be there.

But if you said no, they would definitely know something was up.

YOU: sounds fun. I’m in.

————

Later that night, you found yourself in Paige’s bedroom, surrounded by dresses, makeup palettes, and the sweet scent of vanilla perfume.

You sat on the bed with a wine glass in hand, watching as Mia curled her lashes in the mirror. Brooke was fixing Paige’s hair, both of them deep in conversation about something you weren’t really listening to.

“Okay, but what are we manifesting tonight?” Paige asked, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

“I’m manifesting someone hot, rich, and slightly emotionally unavailable,” Mia said.

Brooke snorted. “So… Rafe?”

Mia burst into laughter, but you stiffened, fingers tightening around your glass.

The conversation kept moving, but Brooke’s eyes flickered to you in the mirror. She didn’t say anything, but you could tell she noticed.

“Are we gonna talk about the fact that our girl has been acting weird lately?” Paige asked, raising an eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes, forcing a smile. “I’m not acting weird.”

Brooke hummed. “Right. And the fact that you look like you want to throw yourself out the window every time Rafe is mentioned is just a coincidence?”

You exhaled sharply, turning back to your glass.

Paige smirked. “Wait… did something happen?”

Mia’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, did you guys hook up?!”

“What? No.”

Brooke eyed you carefully. “But something did happen.”

You hesitated. “It’s not… it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Mia and Paige exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced.

Brooke, however, didn’t push it.

“Okay,” she said simply, turning back to the mirror. “But just so you know, whatever’s going on with you two? I can see it matters to both of you.”

Your stomach twisted, but you keep your face neutral, “Enough of the serious talk. We have drinks to drink and guys to charm.”

Mia grinned. “Amen.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted.

————

By the time you arrived at the country club, the place was already packed. The band played from the corner of the room, their music weaving through the hum of conversation and clinking glasses. The warm glow of the chandeliers cast a golden light over the space, giving everything an almost dreamlike quality.

You tried to focus on the excitement, on the promise of a fun night.

But your eyes had a mind of their own.

They found Rafe almost instantly.

He was near the bar, his back turned to you, his posture relaxed. He looked good—too good—in a fitted dark button-up, his blond hair slightly tousled, like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times.

And he wasn’t alone.

A girl you didn’t recognize stood close beside him, a little too close. She was tall, blonde, effortlessly pretty, the kind of girl who fit perfectly into Rafe Cameron’s world.

You told yourself it didn’t matter.

But when she laughed—too loud, too flirty—at something he said, irritation burned in your chest.

Brooke, ever observant, followed your gaze.

“You’re gripping your drink like it personally offended you,” Brooke murmured beside you, her voice low.

You let out a breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Brooke just hummed knowingly, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Right. And I suppose the daggers you’re staring into that girl’s back are just for fun?”

You clenched your jaw, avoiding her gaze. “He can do whatever he wants.”

Brooke scoffed. “Sure. And that’s why you look like you’re about to storm over there and ruin her night.”

You hesitated, then finally sighed. “We… we almost kissed last night.”

Brooke’s eyes widened slightly. “Almost?”

You nodded. “I pulled away.”

Brooke frowned. “Why?”

You swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably. “Because I panicked. Because I—” You stopped, exhaling. “Because I realized I actually like him, and that wasn’t part of the plan. This started as a stupid way to make Alex jealous and get Amelia off his back, I don’t want him kissing me just because it’s convenient or easy.”

Brooke stared at you like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You seriously think that’s why he was going to kiss you?”

Brooke blinked, like she hadn’t expected you to admit it outright.

“Okay,” she said slowly, setting her drink down. “First of all, you need to talk to him. Running away isn’t solving anything.”

You swallowed. “And what if it’s just about Amelia for him? What if I’m just convenient?”

Brooke shook her head. “Then you ask him. Because from where I’m standing? That’s not the way a guy looks at someone who’s just convenient.”

“Well it seems like he got over it quick enough.” Gesturing to him and the girls he’s been flirting with all night.

Brooke sighed, shaking her head. “You’re an idiot.”

You shot her a glare. “Thanks.”

She gave you a pointed look. “No, seriously. He likes you, you know. And if you don’t stop running away, you’re gonna lose him before you even figure out what you want.”

You hesitated, your eyes flickering back to Rafe.

He wasn’t looking at the blonde anymore.

He was looking at you.

And for the first time all night, you weren’t sure who was hurting more. You—or him.

—————————

What do we think will happen next? Will they clear the air ?

Taglist:

@rafecameronsbaeee @Drewwhor

@wtfisastiles @emmafitzzz

@yourmomdotcom42069 @yasmin-oviedo

@pogueprincesa @maybankslover

@rrosiitas @my-name-is-baby

@rafecameronsslut1234 @ggraycelynn

@wtfdudesblog @hugheswife

[meadowfics]

aunts and nieces

father!husband!kang dae ho x f!wife!mother!reader

apart of the kang family series

warnings: this chapter has smut!! MDNI! 18+. p in v unprotected. oral (r receiving), just a bunch of love making, daeho being vocal, praise, vulgar dialogue.

tags: @hrh007 , @tcvazq , @casually-simping , @chxrrybomb22, @prettywhenicry4

the house felt strangely quiet without the familiar sounds of tiny feet padding across the floor, the giggles and babbles of your daughters filling every corner.

stillness settled over you like a soft blanket, both comforting and unsettling. you stood by the window, watching as jia buckled seo-ah into her car seat, her practiced hands moving with ease.

byeol, snug in her infant carrier, was already dozing, her tiny hands curled into fists. jia smiled up at you through the glass, her warm, maternal energy radiating even from a distance.

“eomma! we’re going to have so much fun!” seo-ah called out, waving her little hand excitedly.

you forced a smile, waving back from out the window.

“i know, baby. be good for auntie jia, okay?”

“okay!”

you felt dae-ho’s hand slip around your waist, his presence grounding you.

“they’re going to be fine,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you leaned into him, exhaling the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“i know. it’s just… we’ve never been away from them this long.”

“jia’s got this. she raised min-jun like a pro, remember?”

min-jun, one of daeho's many nephews, and jia's only child who is now sixteen.

you nodded. jia was incredible, a strong, patient mother who had always made parenthood seem effortless.

you trusted her completely, but the idea of spending an entire weekend away from your babies tugged at your heart.

jia approached the door, knocking softly before stepping inside.

“hey, you two,” she greeted, her warm smile easing some of your nerves.

“hey,” you and dae-ho replied in unison.

jia glanced between you both, noticing the tension lingering in your shoulders.

“they’re going to be fine, unnie. i promise.” she placed a reassuring hand on your arm. “seo-ah is already planning our whole weekend. she’s got me making pancakes tomorrow morning and taking her to the park by my home.”

you chuckled softly.

“that sounds like her.”

“and byeol is so easygoing, a quiet baby. min-jun wasn't like that, she’s been a dream so far.”

you smiled, though your heart still felt heavy.

“thank you again, jia. really.”

she waved it off.

“please, i’m excited. and you two deserve this. a weekend to yourselves.” she arched an eyebrow, smirking.

“go have fun. sleep in. enjoy each other!”

you blushed slightly, while dae-ho chuckled, pulling you closer.

“we’ll try,” he promised.

jia gave you both one more hug before heading back to the car. you watched as she drove off, the car disappearing down the street, leaving an unfamiliar silence behind.

you stood there for a moment, feeling the absence of your daughters like a weight in the room.

dae-ho squeezed your hand.

“so… what do we do now?”

you let out a soft laugh.

“i… have no idea.”

“me neither.”

you both wandered into the living room, where the couch seemed bigger without toys scattered all over it.

you sank into the cushions, leaning against dae-ho’s side as he wrapped an arm around you.

“this is weird,” you murmured, snuggling into him.

“yeah. but kinda nice, right?”

“it is.”

you sat there in silence, the kind that only comes when there’s no rush, no distractions. just the two of you, alone for the first time in what felt like forever.

dae-ho’s fingers traced lazy circles on your arm.

“hey,” he said after a moment.

“hmm?”

“go get ready.”

you tilted your head to look at him.

“for what?”

your husband's lips curled into a soft smile.

“i’m taking you out to dinner tonight.”

you blinked, caught off guard.

“seriously?”

“yeah. an actual date night. just us two without the babies.”

you hesitated. it had been so long since you’d done anything like that, just the two of you.

“are you sure?”

“positive. we deserve this, y/n.” he cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin.

“go get dressed. we’re going out.”

your heart fluttered at his words, warmth blooming in your chest.

“okay,” you whispered, smiling.

you took your time getting ready, savoring the quiet as you stood in front of the mirror.

you pulled on the prettiest pink dress you own, one that flowed gently over your body, perfect for the warm spring evening.

as you slipped the pink dress over your shoulders, the fabric draped over your body in a way that made you pause. it hugged your curves gently, the skirt flowing down your legs with a familiar ease.

you turned slightly in front of the mirror, your eyes widening as you noticed how the dress fit, snug in the right places, loose where it needed to be, just like it had before you’d ever had kids. it is tight around the bomb area, but that is perfectly okay, that part of your chest has grown naturally with kids.

a soft smile spread across your face as you took it in. for months after having byeol, you hadn’t felt quite like yourself...your body still healing, changing, adjusting.

now, standing here, you saw the first signs of the old you coming back, blending with the woman and mother you had become.

your hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

the fabric hugged you in all the right places, the color bringing a softness to your features.

you did your makeup lightly, just enough to feel special, before slipping on your favorite heels that matched with the dress.

when you walked into the living room, dae-ho was already waiting, dressed in a sleek black suit, his hair styled perfectly. he looked up as you entered, his eyes widening, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“wow,” he breathed, standing up.

you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“you clean up pretty well yourself.”

he chuckled, reaching for your hand and spinning you around gently.

“you look beautiful, baby.”

“thank you,” you murmured, feeling butterflies stir in your stomach, just like the early days of your relationship.

“ready?” he asked, offering his arm.

“ready.”

you both stepped out into the warm evening air, the warm countryside feeling fresh before hitting the train out to the city center of seoul.

it felt surreal...just the two of you with no diaper bags, no car seats, no toys in tow.

this was your night. you planned to enjoy every second of it.

a half an hour later exiting the subway station, a cool spring breeze brushed past you as you and dae-ho climbed the steps, your heels clicking softly against the pavement.

the city lights of seoul shimmered in the distance. however, the familiar sterile smell of the subway station lingered.

for a moment, the weight of past memories pulled at you...the fluorescent lighting, the dull hum of vending machines, the heavy presence of the recruiter who’d handed you that fateful card after playing the stupid ddakji game.

you felt a slight tension in your chest, and as if on cue, dae-ho’s fingers laced through yours, his grip tightening gently.

you turned up and glanced at him, catching the subtle flicker of unease in his eyes. he was thinking about it too.

neither of you spoke about it though.

it was a silent agreement...a pact made without words. tonight wasn’t for those memories. it wasn’t for the darkness that loomed in your past or the haunting remnants of the games.

it wasn’t for worrying about seo-ah and byeol, even though both your hearts ached a little at the thought of them.

tonight was just for the two of you.

“you okay?” dae-ho asked softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand.

you nodded, giving him a small smile.

“yeah. you?”

“yeah.” he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing, “let’s have a good night.”

“a great night.”

the unease faded with each step away from the subway, replaced by a warm anticipation as you approached the restaurant. it was a towering glass building, its sleek design and gold accents signaling the kind of luxury that would’ve made you both uncomfortable in the past. however, you do not feel that uncomfortable financial burden anymore.

you and dae-ho had money now...enough to live comfortably, enough to give your daughters everything they needed, and then some. the way that wealth had come to you lingered in the back of your mind like a shadow sometimes. even as you walked into the upscale restaurant, its marble floors gleaming under crystal chandeliers, you couldn’t help but feel a strange disconnect.

“who would’ve thought?” dae-ho murmured as the hostess led you to your table by the window, offering a stunning view of the city skyline.

you chuckled softly, smoothing your dress as you sat down.

“not me.”

“this place is insane,” he added, glancing around at the elegant décor, the soft ambient music and the waitstaff dressed in perfectly pressed uniforms.

you both scanned the menus, leather-bound and heavy in your hands, listing dishes with names you could barely pronounce.

years ago, this would have sent you into a quiet panic, worrying about prices, about fitting in, about not belonging.

tonight, there was a calm acceptance.

“so,” dae-ho began, setting his menu down and folding his hands on the table, “how are you doing? really?”

the question caught you off guard. it wasn’t just small talk...it was genuine, filled with that soft, steady concern he always carried for you.

you paused, considering.

“better,” you admitted. “earlier, when I was getting ready… I put on that pink dress and noticed how it fit.”

your husband tilted his head, his eyes softening. “yeah?”

“yeah. it felt like… I’m finally starting to get my body back after having byeol. I looked in the mirror and for the first time in a while, I felt a little confident again.”

a slow smile spread across his face, his hand reaching across the table to take yours. daeho's fingers were warm, his touch gentle as he smoothed his thumb over your knuckles.

“you are beautiful,” he said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“you’ve always been beautiful. before the kids, during both pregnancies and even now. you’re incredible, y/n.”

the sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion. daeho's gaze held so much love, so much admiration that it was almost overwhelming.

you could see it in the way his eyes softened, in the little upward curve of his lips...the light that always appeared when he looked at you.

“thank you,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell.

he smiled, his thumb still brushing over your hand.

“always.”

you hesitated for a moment, then asked, “how about you? how have your therapy sessions been going?”

for a moment, something flickered across his face, something guarded, but then he relaxed, letting out a soft breath.

“good,” he replied. “really good. my therapist has been helping me work through a lot, especially… the ganghwa.. um- thing.. and… well, everything else. he has been nice.”

you nodded, squeezing his hand.

“I’ve noticed. you’ve been doing so well. I’m really proud of you.”

he gave you a soft, almost shy smile, his ears tinged pink.

“i’m trying.”

“i love you,” you said, feeling the weight of those words fully.

daeho's smile widened, his eyes filled with warmth.

“I love you too.”

however, the waiter arrived, interrupting the tender moment.

“are you both ready to order?”

you smiled politely, letting go of dae-ho’s hand to glance back at the menu.

“yes, I’ll have the salmon with rice and vegetables, please.”

the waiter nodded, jotting the order down on his ipad before turning to dae-ho.

“i'll take the galbi-jjim,” dae-ho said, choosing one of the fancier korean dishes on the menu.

“excellent choices. I’ll be back with your drinks shortly.”

as the waiter walked away, you found yourself about to bring up the babies. something about how seo-ah probably had pancakes for dinner and how byeol was likely fussing about now.

however, you stopped yourself just in time. instead, you leaned in, a playful grin on your face.

“so… I started watching this old american sitcom the other day, one I used to watch back home back then...” you began, twirling your fork between your fingers.

dae-ho raised an eyebrow, interest piqued.

“oh? which one?”

“it’s called full house. I found it online and I started to remember how much I used to love that show as a kid. it’s cheesy but… I don’t know, it makes me laugh.”

daeho's face lit up, his shoulders relaxing as he chuckled.

“that's very nice, I've heard of it but I have never seen it before.”

you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest.

“it reminds me of home, in a weird way. it’s… comforting.”

he reached for your hand again, his thumb stroking gently.

“I’m glad. I know how hard it’s been for you to find things that feel safe.”

you nodded, thinking back to how your taste in shows had shifted over the years.

before the games, you used to watch intense thrillers, horror films, anything dark and gritty. after surviving the games, those kinds of shows felt suffocating...too real and too triggering.

now, sitcoms and lighthearted comedies were your go-to.

“it’s funny,” you mused, “I used to love horror movies and all that dark stuff, but now… I can’t even handle jump scares. I just want something that makes me laugh.”

“that makes sense,” dae-ho agreed, his voice gentle.

“after everything we went through… I’m glad you’ve found something that brings you peace.”

you smiled, feeling the weight on your chest lift a little.

“and when I’m not watching sitcoms, I’m stuck watching all of seo-ah’s cartoons while you're doing work in the office.”

he laughed, the sound deep and warm.

“oh, the joys of parenting. at least her shows are educational, right?”

“sure,” you giggled, rolling your eyes.

“if learning how to sing every nursery rhyme and counting to one-hundred counts.”

he chuckled, and in that moment, everything felt easy and simple. you were just two people in love, on a normal date night, without the weight of your past hanging over you.

you caught the way he was looking at you again...soft, admiring, like you were the only person in the room.

the both of you got your food not too long afterwards. the food was delicious, super good.

as you swirled your fork around the last few bites of salmon, the soft hum of the restaurant filled the space between you and dae-ho. the warm glow of the chandeliers above cast a golden hue on the table, making the wine glasses shimmer, and the soft murmur of conversations from the few other people around created a peaceful backdrop. it felt… perfect.

dae-ho leaned back in his chair, his hand resting lazily around his glass as he looked at you, his gaze filled with something deeper, calm, love, maybe even a little wonder.

“we should go on a vacation soon,” he said, his voice soft but excited, like the thought had been bouncing around in his head for a while.

you perked up, setting your fork down.

“yeah?”

he nodded, a slight grin on his face.

“yeah. maybe okinawa in japan? or jeju island? somewhere warm, by the water or even hawaii... I don't know just a real beach vacation.”

the thought made your heart flutter. a real family vacation. you could almost see it now: seo-ah building sandcastles, byeol’s tiny feet dipping into the water for the first time, you and dae-ho under a beach umbrella, watching it all unfold.

you smiled at him, the idea filling you with warmth.

“that sounds perfect.”

then, practicality hit, and you laughed softly, shaking your head.

“but… maybe we should wait a bit? byeol’s only four months old. traveling with her right now might be… a lot.”

he chuckled, his hand moving to rub at the back of his neck.

“yeah, you’re right. i got ahead of myself.”

you reached across the table, placing your hand over his. “no, i love that you’re thinking about it. it means a lot.” you paused, letting the moment sit between you before adding, “it’s kinda funny, though. having these kinds of conversations now, with our own little family.”

daeho's eyebrows lifted, and a soft smile tugged at his lips as he nodded in agreement.

“i know,” you continued, “it wasn’t that long ago what, five years? we were just starting out. barely had enough money to get those cheap triangle kimbaps from the convenience store. and that tiny apartment of yours…” you laughed, the memory vivid in your mind.

“remember how the ceiling leaked every time it rained?”

he let out a deep laugh, his shoulders shaking.

“oh my god, yes and that heater? the one that would rattle like it was going to explode every winter?”

“i was sure we’d freeze to death that first year,” you giggled, your fingers still tracing his knuckles.

dae-ho’s laughter faded into a fond smile.

“but you stayed. through all of that.” his voice softened, eyes locking with yours. “and now… we’re here. I feel, i don’t know...complete, I guess? knowing we made it out of tha- that i got us here.”

your heart clenched, your chest swelling with emotion. you could see the pride in his eyes, the relief, too. you squeezed his hand gently.

“we did it together, dae-ho. yeah... i feel complete too.”

the two of you ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, occasionally offering each other bites and exchanging smiles.

as you finished the last bites of your meal, you leaned back in your chair, your hand resting on your stomach.

“i don’t think i’ve been this full in years,” you said, laughing softly.

dae-ho grinned, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“me neither.”

you both sat there for a moment, soaking in the calmness. the restaurant was still relatively quiet...only a few couples scattered across the room, some leaning in close to each other, others sipping wine and laughing.

“it’s nice here,” you murmured, glancing around.

“everyone just… looks so content.”

“yeah,” dae-ho agreed, his voice soft.

“maybe they’re like us...getting a rare night away from their kids.”

you smiled at the thought, leaning your chin against your hand as you gazed at him.

“probably but i don’t think anyone here’s been through what we have. at least I hope not...”

he nodded, his expression turning thoughtful.

“no… probably not.”

“yeah.” you sighed, the peacefulness of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

you reached across the table, lacing your fingers with his again as your legs caress his underneath the table.

“thank you,” you whispered.

“for what?”

“for this. for everything.”

he smiled, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your hand.

“you don't need to thank me, I would do this for you always.”

another hour goes by as you and dae-ho stepped out of the warm glow of the restaurant, the cool midnight air of spring wrapped around you like a gentle whisper. 

it wasn’t freezing, but the april breeze sent a subtle shiver up your arms, making you instinctively rub your hands over them for warmth. you didn’t say anything, but dae-ho noticed immediately. he always did as he observed your movements. without a word, he slipped off his blazer and gently draped it over your shoulders. 

the soft fabric was still warm from his body heat, carrying his familiar scent, cologne mixed with something uniquely him.  

“there,” he murmured, adjusting it so it sat comfortably on your shoulders. 

“can’t have my wife freezing.” the man chuckled.

you smiled softly, touched by the small but meaningful gesture. 

“thank you.”  

he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, “always.”  

the two of you began walking down the street, your heels clicking lightly against the pavement, though with each step, your exhaustion settled deeper into your body. it wasn’t the kind of tiredness that came from stress or worry…just the peaceful fatigue of a long, perfect night. 

you knew if you admitted how tired you were, dae-ho would offer to carry you all the way back home to the countryside without hesitation. as your gaze wandered, something caught your eye, a sleek, towering hotel just down the street. 

the way its windows gleamed under the moonlight, reflecting the city skyline, made it feel like a sanctuary. tall and elegant, its name glowed softly in the night, inviting, almost tempting.  

you stopped walking, tugging lightly at dae-ho’s hand to get his attention.  

he turned to you, brow raised in curiosity. 

“what’s up?”  

you gestured toward the hotel. 

“what if… we just stayed there tonight?”  

he followed your gaze, then looked back at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“really?”  

you nodded, shifting his blazer tighter around your shoulders. 

“i’m too tired to head all the way home. and… it could be fun like a mini staycation.”  

he considered it for a moment, then his smile widened, warmth dancing in his eyes. “i like that idea. plus,” he chuckled, “i’m pretty tired too. would be nice to just… crash there together.”  

“and not worry about anything else,” you added, feeling a flutter of excitement at the thought.  

“exactly.”  

no other words were spoken before the two of you made your way to the hotel, the building seeming even nicer and bigger as you approached. the glass doors opened silently as you entered the sleek, modern lobby, where soft music played in the background and a massive chandelier sparkled above. 

everything smelled faintly of jasmine and something crisp, almost like fresh rain. checking in was quick, and soon you and dae-ho were stepping into the elevator, heading up to the 17th floor. 

as the doors closed, you leaned against his side, feeling his arm slip around your waist, holding you close. the soft ding of the elevator signaled your arrival, and you both stepped out, walking down the plush-carpeted hallway until you found your room. once inside, you let out a soft gasp…the view was breathtaking.  

the entire far wall was made of floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing the city of seoul in all its midnight glory. glittering lights stretched out endlessly, streets crisscrossing below like illuminated veins, cars moving like tiny, glowing specks. 

the han river shimmered in the distance, reflecting the city lights, and the n tower stood tall against the night sky.  

“wow,” you whispered, walking up to the windows, placing your hand gently against the cool glass.  

dae-ho closed the door behind you, slipping off his shoes before making his way over. he stopped right behind you, his presence warm, grounding. daeho’s hands found your waist, pulling you gently against him, his grip firm but gentle.  

“it’s beautiful, huh?” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm with an ulterior motive.  

you nodded, your heart fluttering. 

“so beautiful.”  

your husband’s hands tightened slightly on your waist before his lips found the spot just below your ear, pressing soft, lingering kisses there. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, but it wasn’t from the cold this time. you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as his mouth moved lower, his lips trailing delicate kisses along your neck. 

the softness, the tenderness…it had been a while since the two of you had this kind of intimacy, uninterrupted, without the background noise of crying babies or toddler giggles. daeho’s hands roamed, sliding over your waist, his fingers tracing the curves of your body through the pink dress you are wearing.  

your breath hitched, a soft whimper slipping out as his lips pressed against that sensitive spot just beneath your jawline. you felt your entire body responding, warmth pooling deep in your core, your hands reaching up to grasp his as they held you close.  

you turned slowly in his arms, your chest rising and falling, your eyes meeting his. your man’s gaze was heavy with want, filled with love and desire all tangled together. your hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. you tilted your chin, your eyes flickering down to his lips before locking back onto his.  

you leaned in, pressing your mouth against his, the kiss soft at first but quickly deepening. daeho’s hands moved, one sliding up your back while the other cradled your cheek, holding you there as if he couldn’t get close enough.  

the kiss became more urgent, more intense, as you let yourself get lost in the feeling of him. the familiar scent of his cologne, the warmth of his touch, the gentle but possessive way his hands moved over your body. you whimpered against his lips when you felt his hand grab your left ass cheek, realizing just how much you had needed this…him, this moment, this connection.  

daeho’s other hands slid down again, gripping your waist firmly as he pressed you closer, deepening the kiss further, like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between the two of you.  your fingers tangled in his hair as your lips moved together, every emotion, every ounce of love, and longing pouring into the moment.  

the taller man stopped before lifting you up, his left hand staying on your ass with his right going under your dress to lift you up. he carries you to the queen size bed and gets right back into kissing all over your neck and collarbones.

“dae,” you whimpered, his large hand pushing your left leg to open. your leg’s knee lifted up to be closer to your chest as your husband’s bulge pressed against your center. 

“baby, what do you want from me?” daeho groaned, his hand coming up to massage your right boob through your dress as he uses his teeth to pull your dress a bit down, exposing your left boob to him. 

“i- i need you.” you whimpered. 

“use more words sweetheart, i need you to be more specific.” he mumbled against your nipple, taking his lips and kissing around your boob teasing you.

“i need you to make love to me, fuck me, just put yourself inside of me.” you moaned when you feel daeho’s bulge press against your center once again. your underwear was ruined, completely soaked, and your husband could feel it through his pants.  

your husband moved up to kiss your ear once again. it was clear hat he was tired, as were you, but you guys needed eachother more. tired and lazy sex it is! you whimper softly as you feel your man’s hands pull your soft lacy underwear off of your body, keeping your dress on. 

“you’re so big.” you moaned when your bare center settled onto daeho’s clothed cock. he started dry humping you, his lips making contact with yours again. you moaned wanting to feel him inside of you, your core clenched onto nothing as your husband used his free hand to hold your wirsts together above your head.

“be patient, baby.” daeho groaned, feeling himself grow impatient as he looked down at your core, completely soaking his dress pants and the bed below. 

“you’re so pretty. i can never get enough of this pussy, can’t i?” your husband whispered to himself but you heard it, you bit your lips as you admire your husband unzipping his pants. the man’s big cock is freed from his pants and boxers, which causes you to spread your legs as wide as possible.

your husband didn’t even bother taking off his pants before he pulled you towards him. he started to kiss down your inner thighs, starting from your knees and going closer and closer to where you wants him to be.

“i’m the impatient one?” you smirked as your husband taking no time in teasing you, as you knew he planned to. 

“shhh!” he whispered against your soft inner legs. 

daeho finally reached your center and you released the loudest moan when he kitten licked from your center and up to your clit. he started flicking at it with the tip of his tongue, using his thumb to expose the little bud from its hood.

your hands grabbed your man’s dark hair as he held one hand on your waist, the other massaging your left thigh.

“yes, fuck! you’re doing so amazing.” you praised. your man pushed his tongue inside of your walls which causes you to whine in pleasure. your dress was pushed up your waist, and daeho’s face was completely covered with your juices

 after feeling the familiar tightness in your core, you arched your back off of the bed.

“ah ah, stay.” daeho held your waist in order for yout entire body to on the bed. he admired your soaked vagina before sitting up, seeing how much you’re ready for him.  

“please fuck me.” you say. 

daeho places your legs on his shoulders before bending down to kiss you. neither of you bothered to take off your clothes. again, your dress gave him easy access and he was too tired to take off his pants completely. he needed you as soon as possible.

you look down and moan at daeho moving his fat mushroom tip along her folds, you moaned when it make contact with your swollen clit before it slips in easily. your juices coating his cock perfectly as you feel your walls greet the familiar dick inside of you. 

as good as daeho’s cock was, you can’t question how you’ve gotten pregnant twice.

“fuck, you’re always so soaked.” your husband leans down, engulfing you in a heated kiss as your walls grip his cock perfectly. 

you moaned loudly, never getting enough of daeho’s dirty talk.

your love combined with your sex made daeho the happiest man in the world. seeing his love under him as you looked down at his dick rearranging your insides every.single.time with your glassy eyes and swollen lips made his cock twitch more than he could count.

“you’re so pretty.” daeho whimpered. you felt yourself clutch around his dick due to his whimpering. you could never get enough. 

“your dick is sooo big!” you moaned, spreading your legs as an angle which helped daeho’s tip kiss at her cervix.

“all for you, mama, all for you.” daeho kissed your lips once again, his tongue entering your mouth at a nice pace.

your husband continued to moan and whisper as your insides pulsed around his sick, “i’m gonna-“ you moaned, before you realized that you couldn’t gold it. he is too good. you finally released all over daeho, getting your juices all over his cock and the bedsheets, as his hand caressed your face.

 “I’m almost done, i’m almost there sweetheart, hold out for me.” daeho fucked into you harder, knowing how sensitive your pussy is now. as he felt himself coming inside of your walls, you nearly squealed at his dick abusing that good spot inside of you.

“fuck fuck fuck!” you scratched at his bicep. 

“oh my god you’re so amazing, that was needed.” daeho pulled out of you.  

the love of your life laid on top of you, his body weight a little crushing but it served as a warm blanket in the cool hotel room. you smiled, noticing how both of you were still dressed. 

“it was needed. i love how we didn’t bother to take off our clothes.” you smile, smoothing your hands through daeho’s soft hair as his hands gripped at your childbearing hips in comfort. 

“yea, we were both impatient.” daeho jokes, coming up to kiss your lips softly before fully falling asleep on your chest. 

kang family series masterlist

[lifeasadorkwithnolife]

Too Late (Part 2)

Part One

Summary: The war is over, and Y/N has been presumed dead for over a hundred years, but she finds herself having to leave her quiet life across the border and come back to the place where it all started. Turns out, Azriel took her death a little harder than she thought.

It had been years since you woke up. Your first memory when you woke up was the pain in your chest then the pain in your abdomen. The pain in your torso healed over time, but the pain in your chest was a constant ache. You had tried reaching out, to feel the emotions of those around you, but could no longer feel anything. You had seemingly lost what little power you had, the only power that made you useful to the night court.

So you ran, shame encapsulating your being. You ran to the human lands, being able to summon what little power you possessed to live a quiet simple life, even across the border, you felt the pain in your chest lessen over time. But the tears still came, night after night, or whenever a shadow would creep by, or you would see pair of wings, all you would be able to see is the bright blue eyes of the male you loved who did not love you in return.

As the years passed, you found yourself growing fond of humans and their ways, you healed them, help protect their young, taught them to farm and even how to make some basic herbal remedies. But even as the years went by, you still dreamt of those blue eyes and shadows. Whenever you cried, you thought about the night where Azriel held you tight and whispered reassurances in your ear, but those days were long gone.

Decades passed, then a century, and it felt like life was just passing you by. The humans you had helped grew old, and then their children would replace them, and their children after that.  It was an exceptionally lonely life.

The fire roared as you sat in your chair, rocking gently as you hummed the same tune Azriel had hummed to you all those years ago. He had never left your mind, and you weren’t sure he ever would. You wove the yarn between your smooth fingers, creating another blanket for a young babe about to enter the world.

You heard a shuffle outside and immediately grew quiet, setting down your yarn and reaching for the dagger strapped to your leg. It wouldn’t be the first time someone attempted to steal from you, but you would teach these humans the same lesson you had taught the last. The door slowly opened, and a large dark figure filled the frame, wings ducking to fit in the door frame.

The dagger left your hand before you could think, landing inches away from the faes pointed ear and into the door jamb. The male snapped his head towards you, pulling out his dagger in return. You gasped in realization, tripping backwards and catching your balance on the stone wall behind you.

Cassian stood before you, his face serious but hair longer, with strands falling over his shoulders. His body was visibly more muscular, and even from a quick glance you could tell that he had more scars than the last time you had seen him. You raised your hand to your chest, unsure of the emotions you were feeling, relief that he was okay.

“Cassian, you’re okay?” You whispered, tears filling your eyes as you stood in place. Cassian stared at you, his eyes guarded.

“What are you?” Cassian growled, raising his sword in your direction.

“I’m-what?” You asked, voice choking. “Cassian- it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

               “Y/N died,” His voice steady, his arm was steady too.

               “Cassian- please.” You lifted your arms, your hands shaking. “I don’t know what I can do to make you trust that it’s me.”

               “There is nothing that you can-“ Cassian’s eye caught a painting on the wall, and you followed his gaze. Dark shadows consumed the portrait, letting in glimpses of light, you had used a mixture of charcoal and wisps of blue, but the most striking feature was the eyes you could faintly see through the shadows, his eyes, they stood out like pools of light cutting through the dark. It was his same guarded expression you saw before you fell asleep.

               “That’s Az.” Cassian whispered, and you nodded.

               “Is he alright?” You could feel the panic rise in your veins, “Please- if he’s not alright you must tell me.”

               “He’s fine.” Cassian stared at you, his eyes shifting from the top of your head to your feet. “I am – I am so glad you’re okay.”

               His warm arms engulfed you, and you could feel yourself melt into his arms. You two had fought on the front lines before you were sent away to Azriel. You felt the tears start and pulled away.

               “Why are you here Cas?” You whispered, pointing at a chair near the fire and sitting in your own. “not that I mind, I’m so happy to see you.”

               “The bone carver told us…he told me to come here and I would find what we needed most.” Cassian said, still staring at you in amazement. “What happened out there? We all thought you were dead, it’s been over a century.”

               “I got stabbed.” You recalled, looking back towards the fire, the carnage coming back to you in a vivid memory. The memory of Azriels indifference, but then him running towards you as the sword plunged through you. “Then…I woke up, in the summer court. Someone had seen me fall and grabbed me, I lost my gift.” You teared up again, “I haven’t been able to feel anything since I left that battlefield, and the high lord had told me that gift was the only use I was to him. I knew…I knew that if I came back without it there would be no point in coming back at all.”

               “Rhysand is high lord now; you can come home.” Cassian reached over, grabbing your hand.

               “I can’t show my face.” Tears streamed down yours.

               “The bone carver said our secret weapon would be here; that’s obviously you.” Cassian pleaded, “We need you, Rhysand, Az, me, we need you.”

               Your throat bobbed as you looked around the life you had built for yourself, and you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

               The trek back was cold and windy, and Cassian carried you in his arms, looking at you every once in a while and shaking his head in disbelief. “I just can’t believe you’re alive.”

               “I’m lucky to be.” You whispered, watching the scenery go by. You could feel the difference when you passed the border, mostly by the change of the feeling around you. You felt like you could breath, but the pain in your chest grew into a dull ache. “How is everyone?”

               “As good as they can be.” Cassian replied, the thud of his wings matching the beats of your heart. “Rhysand found his mate, Feyre.” Cassian explained to you what the past few years had done to them as a group, and you felt your heart tug. You had been away for so long, and they had all suffered. “Azriel is doing…well, he’s Azriel. Very broody, over dramatic, the usual.”

               You laughed, remembering the broody Azriel that you fell In love with. You froze, you were about to see Azriel. “Do you think he’ll hate me?” You whispered, Cassian pondered this question, the longer he took to answer, the more nervous you became.

               “I don’t know.”

               Rhysand was waiting in the foyer when you arrived, Cassian had already let him know the news ahead of time. He hugged you, squeezing you and spinning you around. Relief filled your veins as you looked him up and down, realizing that he was okay and happy, the aura of finding his mate surrounding him.

               “Rhys, I’m telling you, I’m not your secret weapon.” You grabbed his arm, pleading for him to understand. “I lost my abilities, I lost it all when in the war, I can’t help. I can’t even fight anymore.”

               You felt Rhysand walk straight into your mind, your mental shields falling easily due to lack of practice. He walked around the emptiness, ‘you are not worthless, Y/N’ Rhysand seemed to echo, you shook your head. You looked around the cozy house, books lined the small table in the room and a fire was lit.  

               He led you around the “House of Wind”, showing you where everyone slept, the kitchen, and living area. He brought you to the end of a hall, opening a door and showing you a dark bedroom, shadowed by the curtains hanging over the sole window.

               “This is your room, as long as you choose to stay.” He smiled gently, a hand on your back leading you into the room. “I wasn’t sure how to decorate, it’s been a while since… since I’ve seen you.”

               “Dinner will be in a couple hours, if you don’t feel like joining us, I would be happy to have the house give you your food here.” Rhys offered, you sat on the bed, feeling the linen underneath your fingers.

               “Will…Will Azriel be there?”

               “Most likely.” Rhysand sat down next to you, “I’m…I’m not sure how he will take this, he was worse off than the rest of us. “

               “Why?” You voice came out in a whisper, then you coughed. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

               The day passed, you took up the seat next to the window, watching the sun slowly set behind the mountain and the stars light up the sky. Velaris was…beautiful, even more so than Rhys had described. The city was bathed in a golden light from the stars, you could see the reflections of the stars on the streets below, the streets made of glass and stone. Your stomach growled, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten today.

               You opened the door, hearing raised voices and laughter from down the hall. You slowly shut the door behind you, back turned as you made sure it clicked shut. What would you say? How would he react?

               “How did you get in here?” A low voice asked, sending a cold chill up your spine. You stared at the door, wishing you could somehow go back in time and not come out here. You slowly turned your head, peaking through the curtain of your hair.

               His form was surrounded by shadows, and he held daggers in each of his hands. You met his eyes, the same piercing blue ones that you looked at every day, you felt the tug in your chest and felt something lodge in your throat.

               His voice was low, dangerously low. “How did you get in here?” He snapped, lifting his dagger as if to throw it.

               You lifted your hands, which were shaking so bad you couldn’t hold them up straight. “Please, Azriel, I can explain.” The two daggers left his hands, pinning your shirt to the door over both of your shoulders. He walked over, his steps slow and his eyes narrowing. The pain in your chest grew to a roar, and tears filled your eyes, the panic growing within you.

               He lifted a hand, brushing the hair from your face, and then it hit him. His breath caught, and so many emotions flowed through you that you nearly dropped to the floor, after not feeling anything for so long, this was too much. Then, you felt the anger. Your head slammed against the door, leaving you face to face with Azriel as he pushed against your chest.

               “What are you?” Azriel growled, pulling out another knife and holding it to your neck. “Damn, you almost had me fooled. You look just like her.”

               “Az! “ Cas shouted from the other end of the hallway, afraid to make any sudden movements.

               “What is this thing?” Azriel looked at him, his large hand still pressed against your ribcage.

               “it’s really her.” Cas held up his hands in mock surrender, his wings behind him as he slowly walked to Azriel. “It’s…trust me, I found her.”        

               Azriel looked back to you, his eyes scanning every inch of you, from the top of your head to the shoes that you wore. A flicker of hesitation passed before, in one swift motion, he grabbed the fabric at the bottom of your shirt and tore it, exposing your torso. Under the fabric and now exposed was your scar, white and ragged on your skin. 

               Azriels breath caught, his posture stiffening as his gaze move from his scars to you. His eyes were more guarded than you had ever seen them, but the pain in your chest didn’t relent. “Az-“ you began, trying to grasp his arm.

               “Why are you back here? Why now?” Azriel pulled his daggers from your shirt aggressively, you could feel the anger radiating from him, raw and bitter. “It’s only been, what, a HUNDRED YEARS?” His daggers flew from his hands into the wall on the other end of the hallway.

               “Azriel please-“ You begged, tears brimming. “I”

               “I LOST you, Y/N!” Azriel shouted, his hands in fist and shadows swarming around his figure. “One minute you were there, the next, gone! I searched for days! Do you know how many bodies I turned hoping to find you but also knowing that I couldn’t bear it if I did?”

               “I’m sorry!” You shouted, walking towards him as he backed up. “if I could go back and change it, I would-“

               “I don’t want to hear it, Y/N.” Azriel’s voice was stone cold, his chest heaved. Every part of him was anger, you could feel it like you were sitting next to an open flame. “I mourned you. I searched for you, I even made you a grave.” He growled, running his hands through his hair.

               “Just listen to me!” You shouted, “Just take a minute and listen to me talk, let me explain.”

               Azriel met your gaze and shook his head. “You don’t get to disappear and show up like nothing happened.” He snapped, walking to the wall and yanking his daggers out. “You don’t get to put me, us, through that. You don’t get to ‘explain’”

               “Please.” You begged, trying one last to grab his arm as he walked by. He pulled his arm back, like your touch was poison. The pain and hurt that filled you made it hard to breathe as you watched him walk out of the hallway, then heard a door slam. You slowly slid down the door to your bedroom, head in your hands as you cried. Cassian squatted down to squeeze your shoulder, but you pushed him away.            

               “Get away from me!” You screamed from your throat, and another loud sob left your body. You should never have left, maybe not feeling at all was better than this. You didn’t even notice Cassian leaving as you cried.

[mareastrorum]

C3 discourse really suffers from people seeing the traits of a single member of a group and attributing them to the entire group.

Bell’s Hells are not punk. Ashton is punk. Ashton is one member only. If you can explain to me how Orym is punk in a way that doesn’t butcher his character, I might believe you, but good luck with that.

The gods did not smite Aeor. The Arch Heart did. Several gods planned to destroy the city, several more opposed the city’s destruction, and one single god made the decision in a split second when the other option was to let an unidentified god die. The gods (plural) did not destroy the city. That was the myth we saw debunked in Downfall.

No one group can be blamed for the Schism because we don’t actually know what triggered it. All we know is that the Primordials (who had assisted in creating mortals) decided they now wanted to kill mortals, and the gods split into two factions based on how much they wanted to participate. It very well could have been a Betrayer that lashed out, or maybe a Primordial did, or maybe a Prime intervened at the start of the culling. We don’t know who started it, only what sides each entity landed on.

The gods did not start the Calamity. At least two Betrayers launched plans that relied entirely on mortals cooperating to help them break out, and guess what, so many mortals were willing to do it that several Betrayers broke out on the exact same day. Some Betrayers (at least Asmodeus and Gruumsh) and mortals started it, not gods as a complete and solely responsible group.

The Hells did not save the world. They saved some of the gods from being eaten by Predathos, and we don’t even know which ones, because assuming otherwise requires us to accept that there was no world in which any of them could have simply fled in different directions and at least a few escaped. Not everyone went to the Prometheus School of Running Away From Things. Matt also decided that the rest of the world actually would have been fine, so unless you was to say the world is the same thing as the gods (and therefore the Hells threatened the world at gunpoint to agree with them), you’re out of luck.

The Hells didn’t save Reilorans or other Ruidus-based species from genocide. The Mighty Nein and Vox Machina fought the Weave Mind and the Imperium, and Evoroa pleaded for her people to the congregation of national leaders at Vasselheim. Taking part in an already-planned scouting/sabotage mission doesn’t elevate them to saving an entire group of people, especially when they skipped out on the assassination part. (This also goes back to the saving the world thing about the Hells because they didn’t stop any explicitly labeled colonizers from doing anything.)

Nuance is a thing guys. It’s okay to be nuanced. Stop making blanket statements and then using it to argue that your Blorbo is Good Actually.

[fuctacles]

A gorgeous man walks into a dressing room

for @genderthings Eddie's Gender Week prompt "stage" Steddie | T | 1125 | genderqueer/gender non conforming Eddie | famous Eddie, hair stylist (and drag queen) Steve, first meeting, pre-relationship

The new hair stylist walks in on Eddie applying lipstick. Kudos to him, he takes it in stride, placing his bag on the clean area in front of one of the mirrors. 

"The doors were open, so I hope it's okay I just walked in," he says with a tilt of a question in his voice. 

Eddie hums, focused on sharpening the edges around his lips. 

"I'm the new hair stylist, Steve Harrington," the guy introduces himself. "You must be Eddie, right?"

"Ah-hah," Eddie makes an affirmative sound. 

"How can I refer to you?"

"Just Eddie is okay, but if you want to keep it more professional, something like chief or captain is fine. Do not call me boss," Eddie says, moving away from the mirror to gauge the symmetry and not happy with the results so far. 

"No, I mean, do you want to be addressed as a guy? Or something different."

Eddie sometimes forgets that he's in the creative field now, and a lot of other people he meets are more open to gender fuckery and general LGBT themes. They finally look at the new guy, someone they'd usually dismiss as gorgeous but straight, if not for the pearl necklace around his neck. 

"I'm fine with anything, but you can call me anytime."

The silence lingers and as Steve's look sours, Eddie's lips turn up into a grin. 

"What?! It's a good line!" 

"Sure is," Steve rolls his eyes. "Do you need help with that?" he points to the lipstick still clutched in Eddie's hand. "I do drag on the weekends." 

Eddie blanks for long enough for Steve to produce a small make up brush out of somewhere, and pry the lipstick out of his hand. He dabs the brush against the dark red pigment. 

"The secret of sharp edges is using a brush," he explains softly. "It gives you better control of the lines."

Eddie can't say shit when Steve's finger gently holds his chin while he's applying the lipstick in small, precise strokes. He steps back, fixes something, and steps back again before nodding to himself.

"I thinks it's okay now." 

Eddie turns to the mirror to examine their perfectly painted, symmetrical lips. They look up at Steve's reflection. 

"Can you do my eyes, too?" 

Steve can, and gives Eddie an impressive, bold eye make up, apologizing all the time that it's "too draggy". Eddie slaps him about it, and informs him that it's perfect. 

When Corroded Coffin's actual stylist come into the dress room, they just groan at the sight of Eddie's make up and turn their anger at Steve. For a second, the thinks he's going to be fired, but then...

"Give her an updo, something messy but feminine to match the face," the person instructs. Steve only nods to that. "I'll go pick something in the wardrobe."

Steve is a little terrified, but Eddie only beams at him.

"She likes you!" he exclaims happily, gently slapping at Steve's chest. 

"Uh, she didn't seem happy," Steve protests gently, reaching for his actual hair styling kit. 

"Don't worry about it," Eddie waves their hand. "Chrissy is always stressed before a performance, but she likes a challenge. We've been friends forever, so I'd know."

"Okay." Steve pushes Eddie gently so he'll rest against the back of the chair, and turns him to face the mirror, then ties his tool belt around his waist. "I'll trust you on that. Now, I'll try to be gentle, but tell me if I pull too hard." 

Eddie's hair is a bit of a struggle, since the initial plan was to just tease it as usual and let it be. But Steve turns out to be an expert enough to brush it out and up tying it into a high ponytail, with some strands framing his face. He even takes extra time to curl them and set them in place with hair spray. 

When he takes a step back to take in his work, his eyes shine. Not only was he proud with his work, but his model was more than good looking, the make up and hairdo enhancing their features. Their eyes catch in the mirror reflection, but before any of them can say anything, Chrissy is back, carrying a handful of dark fabric. 

"I got a few outfits for you to try on. Steve, could you take care of Gareth's hair?"

"On it!"

Eddie gives him a smile and a finger wave through the mirror, before Chrissy descends on them with the clothing she's picked. Steve doesn't have time to look in their direction, curling Gareth's hair and then giving each of the members a simple version of Eddie's eye to match it. The impromptu make over must have put them behind schedule, because everyone is rushing somewhere before Steve can take a proper look at the end product.

It's only after the lights dim that he's ushered by Chrissy to a booth where the rest of the staff is either taking a break or keeping an eye on their work. As part of the styling team, Steve is on the look out for any hair or wardrobe malfunctions that might need touching up during the set. 

Gareth comes out first, setting a beat with his drums for the others to walk out to. They're dressed pretty much the same as usual, except for Eddie, whose jeans were swapped with a long skirt, its side slits so high the whole thigh is pretty much on display. 

Steve briefly wonders what kind of underwear they're wearing for it not to be visible. 

"Hello Chicago!" Eddie greets the audience through the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, and..." he makes a dramatic pause, eyes scanning the crowd. "Others. A gorgeous man walked into my dressing room today and did my make up." They flip their hair back and angle their face left and right. "What do we think?" The crowd goes wild and Eddie laughs. "Me too. It goes to show, for the best make up and hair tips, go to a drag queen." With another loud cheer from the crowd, Eddie sticks out their tongue playfully and starts off the first song.

They look stunning, with the strands of hair framing their painted face and the long pale legs wearing heavy leather boots. Steve feels like a fraud, because he's getting paid to make the band presentable, but really, Eddie's beauty is doing most of the work for him.

"Did Eddie just call me gorgeous?" he asks absentmindedly, slowly processing everything he's taking in. 

To his right, Chrissy sighs. 

"Please don't take it to HR," she says. 

"What?" Steve gives her a short, surprised glance. "No. No. Unless, there's something against dating the band in my contract?"

beloveds: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[munsonsmixtapes]

Can y’all please send me some rockstar!Eddie requests??

Rock star eddie, you're his drummer. One of his songs requires moans in the background. He wants it live. Wear special panties during show, boom live moans or if that's too much maybe just has you in the sound booth since he doesn't want some random chick's moans

ugh I love this idea

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) masturbation anal, slight degradation, use of the word whore

The recording booth is getting warm as you finish up your contribution to the new single. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever done before and Eddie is producing the entire thing, telling you exactly what he wants you to do and you hate that you’re finding it so hot. 

He’s your bandmate and looking back, bandmates dating each other rarely ever works out. So you’ve been keeping your attraction to yourself even though everyone but Eddie knows exactly how you feel. And you don’t think he’s ignoring you but more that he’s oblivious, not seeing what’s right in front of him. 

And it apparently goes both ways since you have no idea that he’s been crushing on you since you joined the band, temporarily filling in for Gareth while his broken arm heals. He’d never tell anyone this, but for very selfish reasons, he doesn’t want Gareth to get better. He wants you to stay in the band forever so he can’t get closer to you. 

He wants to be able to get a glimpse of your short shorts and skirts when you sit on the stool in front of the drum kit. He wonders how you would feel if he let his hand slide up your thigh, dipping into the waistband of you panties to feel your sopping wet- 

“That was really good,” Eddie tells you through the speaker with a wide smile. 

“Great,” you smile back. “Am I good to go?” You jerk your thumb towards the door and Eddie shakes his head. He kind of feels like a perv for what he’s about to ask, but he doesn’t exactly want to ask this of a stranger. 

“Actually,” he starts. “I have something else I want you to record if you’re up for it.” 

You don’t understand what could possibly be left. You already did your vocals and the drum beats he wanted. What else could Eddie be asking for? And why is he asking it from you? 

“I was wondering…” he pauses for a beat then waits for Jack, the producer who was helping him out with everything, to leave. And once he does, Eddie leans in close and it feels so intimate, like he’s right there, just inches away from you. “Since this song is supposed to be sexy, I was wondering if you’d like to record some moans for me so I can put them in the background of the track.” 

Your face is now on fire. You don’t know what you thought he was going to ask you to do, but it definitely wasn’t that. You should feel disgusted but for whatever reason, you actually feel honored. You’re the one he wants to do this, no one else. And it makes you feel even more attracted to him then you already are. 

“Okay,” you nod, letting what you’re about to agree to actually sink in before you say the words. “Sounds fun, I’m in.” 

Eddie’s honestly shocked that you’re into it, that you’re so eager to do this for him. He really thought it was a big ask but you agreed so quickly, almost as if he asked you to buy him a coffee. (and he never even has to ask for that, you’ll just show up with his usual order with that pretty smile on your face) God, he’s getting hard just thinking about what you’re going to do and wishes that he could be the one to make you make those surely delicious sounds, but he’s going to keep his distance. 

You move around the drums and stand in front of the main mic, putting your headphones back on, wondering what it’s going to sound like on the track. Eddie has always had a good ear so you’re sure that whatever he’s going to come up with will sound great. 

“So how do you want this? Do want something loud or breathy or-“ 

“Breathy,” he replies, cutting you off. “Needy, desperate.”

“Do you mind if I-” you cut yourself off, referring to your pants. Eddie’s eyes widen at what you’re insinuating, but he’s not going to say no. He knows that it’s hard for some people to do that kind of thing on demand and he also kinda wants to see you get yourself off. 

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “Go ahead. We’re recording.” 

“Okay,” you nod as you pull your shorts down just a bit before sticking your hand down your panties, on the hunt for your pussy. Your fingers get inside you pretty easily and you begin to pump, slowly at first and Eddie’s watching every move, eating up the way you throw your head back in pleasure. It’s almost like you’re putting on a show for him and he’s eating up every second. 

When you let out your first moan, Eddie’s cock twitches at the pretty sound and gets progressively harder the more you moan, deciding that it’s even better than he imagined it would be. This is going to sound so hot on the record and he’s nodding to himself at how good of a decision it was to have you be the one to do it. 

“Fuck,” you whine and he’s bricked up now, wondering if it would be weird if he jacked off to you masturbating. He supposed it doesn’t matter because he’s already pulling down his sweatpants before spitting into his hands and giving it a jerk. 

“Just like that,” he encourages into the speaker. “Maybe a little more whiny.” 

Your hand is moving faster now, his name falling from your lips in a breathy whine and he’s so close to coming right there. In a flash, he’s on his feet, pulling his pants up as he stops the recording, making a beeline for the booth. He’s gotta join in now that he’s heard your moan his name, wanting you to moan it because of how he’s touching you. 

Your eyes open when the door to the booth shuts and he charges towards you. You slowly pull your hand from your shorts then grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, motioning for him to open his mouth. He does so and your fingers slide into his mouth as his tongue swirls around it, sucking your slick from it, savoring the taste even as you pull them from his mouth with a loud pop. 

“How’s it taste?” You ask and he puts on a devilish smirk, grabbing hold of your waist, your body now flush to his. 

“You tell me,” he whispers as his lips find yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, letting it meet yours so you can decide for yourself. “Good?” He asks when you don’t answer, but how can you when the whole thing makes you dizzy, unable to string together a proper sentence. 

“Mmm,” you moan against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands slide into your back pocket. He’s kissing you like this is something he’s been waiting for forever and he has dreamt about something like this happening but he was convinced that it was only going to end up being just a dream. 

He gives your ass a squeeze before hurrying to unbutton your shorts, pulling them down just a bit so he can get his hand down in there, his fingers finding your cunt pretty easily. His eyes darken as he pumps his fingers in and out, not even trying to warm you up, shoving his entire fingers in there. He puts on a devilish smile as he watches you come undone underneath his touch. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you know it’s from years of playing guitar that he can move his fingers in such ways. 

You hold onto him as best you can but you feel your knees buckle, having a hard time staying on your feet. Eddie’s quick to pull your back to his chest , his fingers somehow sinking deeper and you’re now putty in his hands as you reach your orgasm, his name falling from your lips once again and he’s got on a cocky smirk as he helps you sink to the floor. 

“All fours,” he commands and you’re quick to listen, letting him pull your shorts and panties down. He stares down at your bare ass, nodding to himself because he just knew that you had a good one with the tight shorts you always wear when performing. It was torture not being able to touch you but now that he’s here, he’s going to do so much, everything he’s ways wanted to as long as you’re okay with it.

Eddie removes his jeans and boxers and discards them into the pile of your clothing before getting down on his knees. This might be the hottest he’s ever seen you, hearing you beg for him, fuck, he thinks he’s going to come.

His shirt is off in a flash and you turn around to get a glimpse of the size of him but he quickly grabs onto your cheeks and forces you to turn back and face forward. You do as he says and stay there as you feel his presence behind you. He’s lathering something onto his cock, you can hear the noises and before you can ask as him what’s going on, he’s pounding into you as his hands rest on your waist, his fingers digging into your hips as he goes to town. You’re moaning so loud and he almost wishes that he was still recording as perverted as that sounds. 

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he says as he somehow goes even harder, wishing he had a mirror so that he could see just how hot you look from the front. “I think you deserve a treat for that. That is, if you can be a good girl.”

“I-I can be,” you reply through heavy breaths. You just knew that Eddie liked it rough, but not this rough. But you’re enjoying yourself, deciding that you can do this for hours. Your arms are getting a little tired but it’s worth it to be receiving something this good. 

“I bet you’re a whore too, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He’s right, you are, and you’re wondering how he’s able to read you like a book in this way. He’s making you wet beyond belief and you didn’t realize that you liked being spoken to like this until this very moment. 

“Mmm,” you reply, your brain going fuzzy as you feel another orgasm approaching, your arms threatening to give out on you. Just you hit your peak, Eddie pulls out and pushes you onto your back, not even giving you a second before he’s pounding into your sopping wet cunt, no sounds being heard except the squelching and slapping as he moves quickly. 

He wants to see you now, thinking that you’ve more than earned your treat because of how well you responded to him. You’re so pretty like this, submitting to him, letting him do whatever he wants to you. You’ve always been sweet and quiet, he never knew you had this side to you. 

“So pretty,” he whispers as he leans down for a kiss, this one soft, completely juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. He then pulls your hoodie off to reveal your bare tits. You weren’t even wearing a bra? Fuck, he acutally might cum this time. 

And he’s feeling close this time, his vision getting hazy as he continues to pound into you. And it gets more intense as he thinks about the fact that you could potentially get caught and now he’s hurrying to finish to make sure that doesn’t, coming pretty much right after you as you’re bucking your hips against his to try your best to finish him off. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whines as he finally gets there, the two of you staying like that until you both come down. You’re already missing the feeling of him inside you as he attempts to clean the two of you up, helping you get dress afterwards before your legs still feel like jelly. 

He then helps you to your feet with a promise that he’ll make you feel even better in his apartment later. He then lets you sit in his lap as he finishes editing the song, still somehow able to get the job done even when you’re kissing his neck, grinding your ass against his cock. Yeah, he’s definitely teaching you a lesson later.