#thank you so much for the ask it's nice to see people still care about me on here

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 4

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Hi hi hi

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

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I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You don't own many dresses, and those you do, are more office casual than date night. Still, you have no time to stall, no room for excuses. You pick out the only one you think you can still squeeze into.

A button-up black dress with long sleeves, a white collar, and white trim around the sleeves and ruffled hem. It's something that would look much better on Audrey Hepburn. 

You check yourself in the mirror. You shouldn't care but you have to. If you want to get out the other side of this, if you want Vaughn to, you need to go along with it. You need to keep Steve happy. 

You emerge, as content as you can be with your appearance after a day of work and an unsettling homecoming. You keep your eyes on the floor as you wring your hands. You need heels, something to match. 

Before you can pass him, Steve stomps toward you. He pinches the frill around your skirt. "You look amazing, sweetheart." He lets go and drags his hand up your thigh and hip. "Can't believe it's the real thing, right in front of me." 

"Uh, yeah," you agree weakly. "I need shoes." 

"Sure, sweetheart, take your time. Get dolled up," he moves away with a sultry sigh. 

You feel him watching you as you shift around and search the shoe rack. You bend over to take out the black vinyl kitten heels and he purrs. You wince and stand up, wobbling as you step into them. 

"Hate to be too forward but I was away a while. Pretty lady like you has me all hot under the collar," he snickers. "Gotta say that dress hugs you in all the right places." 

"Thank you," you murmur and untangle the thin strap of a small purse. You shuffle around your work bag and slip your ID and debit card inside, along with a tube of lip balm. 

"You don't gotta be so shy," he nears. "I mean, I should be. Being locked up, I forget the way things are out here." He steps close and spreads his hand across your ass. "Just so nice to touch you...but I'll be a good boy and take you on a date first." 

You shudder and resist the urge to shove him away. You force a smile, "where are we going?" 

"Somewhere close," he answers and peels his hand off of you. "Been a while since I had a date," he snorts. "If you can't guess." 

"Me too," you mutter as you back up toward the door. You grab your keys. 

"Oh yeah? How long?" He asks as he opens the door and gestures you through. 

"How... er..." you think about it.  

You've not been on many. Vaughn always kept the men away. Even if they wanted a second date, it was never many more than that. 

"At least a year, I think," you step into the hall and he comes out after you. 

You lock the door as he stays close. You tuck the keys into your purse and he offers his hand. "Ready, sweetheart?" 

You don't hesitate. No more of that. You can't keep pushing your luck. You put your hand in his. You can feel his strength. 

He takes you down the hallway and patiently assists you down the stairs as your heels make your steps unsure. Or maybe that’s him. He’s especially gallant for someone like him. A criminal. Wait, no, he’s been absolved, hasn’t he? 

He slips his hand along your lower back as you come outside. There’s a hitch in his strut. Victory. 

“Got her out of storage, fresh wax,” he announces as he approaches the white vintage car you noticed before.

It’s strange how you can pick every single thing that’s out of place but you can never put them together. It was the same with Vaughn. 

“It’s very nice,” you say. “I don’t know much about cars, my brother...” 

You trail off. You’d rather not think or talk about him right now. 

Steve opens the passenger door for you. You get in and he lingers at your door. He purrs. 

“You really do look just perfect, sweetheart.” he tickles your jawline then draws back.  

He finally shuts you in. You shiver as you watch him through the windshield. You fix the hem of the skirt as it rides up with the two sizes you’ve put on since you bought it. Or maybe it shrunk? You pinch yourself as you do, hoping you might wake up from this nightmare. 

No, you’re already awake. Painfully so. 

Steve gets in and you peek over for just a second. The seat emphasizes his size. Everything seems to remind you of his power over you. Over your family.  

You’re so stupid. You have no one to blame but yourself. What were you thinking? Thanking a convinct? A criminal? A murderer? Or not a murderer? 

“You’re tired,” he says as he backs out, “seat belt, sweetheart. Last thing I need is an accident.” 

You buckle up. You dab your nose as it tingles. Don’t cry. You have to play this right. Pretend. 

“A little, yeah. Work...” 

“At the clinic, right?” He prompts. 

It’s like the phone calls. That familiarity he puts on. Your head spins as you replay all those nights in your head. It struck you then how presumptuous he could be. How he said ‘we’. His presence then reframes every call, every visit. They were not the same to him as you. 

“Yeah, a lot of phone call,” you swallow as your throat scratches. “People don’t like waiting.” 

“Tell me about it,” he chuckles. “After how long I waited for this...” 

You stare at his hand. Huge, thick, gripping the slender wheel. You put your eyes to your lap and play with the ruffle. 

“We’re gonna have a good night, sweetheart. You and me.” He preens. “A lot of them.” 

You nod and turn your face to the window, “yes, Steve. Thank you.” 

⛓️‍💥

The restaurant is nice. As you’re greeted at the door, Steve snakes his hand down your arm and twines his fingers through yours. As he squeezes, you realise how strange it must be to him. You shouldn’t empathize with him, not with all the threats, with how he’s taken your life over in less than an hour, but you do. 

“Table for two,” he says. 

The hostess smiles, “yes, sir. I can find you something.” 

She grabs two menus and a smaller one from the desk. She turns and leads you into the dining room. You walk just ahead of Steve as he urges you on, though his hand stays on yours. She stops you at a round table framed with a crescent bench. 

“Booth alright?” 

“Sure is,” Steve answers. 

He holds onto you until you sit. You slide around and he follows. The hostess lays out the menus. 

“Drink menu,” she points to the thinner folio, “a server will be by soon.” 

“Thank you,” you gulp out of courtesy, Steve echoing you. 

You clasp your hands in your lap as he takes the wine list and opens it. You’re not very hungry. Or thirsty. You’re scared. 

You glance at him, the around the restaurant. To the other diners, to the staff, he’s just another man. The suit hides his true character. If you passed him on the street, you’d assume he was some refined businessman. 

“Red or white?” He asks. 

You look at him again. The silver strands woven into his blond shine beneath the chandelier lighting above. You drag your hand up your sleeve. 

“You know, I’m not much of a drinker,” you murmur. 

“Well, it’s a special night, isn’t it, baby?” He drawls and closes the folder. 

He sets it down and you shift forward on the seat. He touches your lower back again, tickling you through your dress. Your posture goes rigid as you open the menu and focus on the options. He pulls his menu down, leaning it on the table’s edge as he continues to pet you, his other hand cradling the folder. 

“Steak. Mm. Been a while since I had a good filet,” he growls. 

“Sounds nice,” you nod. 

“What about you?” He wonders and traces his finger up your spine. 

“Hm, the pistachio crusted halibut sounds interesting,” you tap your nails on the page. 

“You don’t gotta peck like a bird around me,” his hand falls right back down, right along the top of your ass. “You really got a nice figure, sweetheart.” 

You fidget and flutter your lashes, “thank you. It’s not that. I was thinking... something light for dinner and the rice pilaf sounds interesting.” 

“Ah,” he trails along the cushion of your rear, “god, you’re so...” 

His voice peters off and a server appears across the table. He sits up and clears his throat. The man in his pressed white shirt and black slacks is amiable as he prompts you for your order. Steve lets you go first. You close the menu and hand it over after you order. 

“Of course, miss,” the server smiles at you. He’s young and handsome. These sort of restaurants only hire a certain type. 

“Bottle of champagne,” Steve begins, “we’re celebrating,” his arm curls around your middle, “and the New York Strip...” He finishes up his order and shoves the menu across the table. What’s that about? 

“Yes, sir, I’ll be back with the bottle and put your order in,” the server nods and glances between the both of you. 

He strides away and Steve growls. His fingertips dig into your side. He leans back and sucks his teeth. 

“Is something... wrong?” You twist to look at him. 

“That... guy. Looking at you like that,” he sneers. “He’s supposed to be taking our order, not ogling you.” 

“No, he wasn’t, Steve,” you assure him. 

“Sure as hell was. You’re just too sweet to notice. His eyes were all over you,” he huffs and his leg sways in agitation. “Judging me. Thinks I’m too old.” 

“Steve, he was perfectly polite,” you say, “please, you said it’s going to be a good night.” 

You bite your tongue as you examine his face. His sudden anger, his paranoia, unsettles you even more. His jaw ticks as he grits his teeth. 

“Steve,” you touch his sleeve, “please, I’m not here with the server, am I?” 

His blue eyes flick over to you. They search your face. You force a smile. 

You have to keep from wincing as he reaches for you. He frames your face with his large hand and grins, “you’re right, sweetheart.” He draws you closer. You let him. “All mine.” 

He meets your lips with his and you swallow a gasp. His nose brushes yours as he kisses you, softly, then his tongue glides over your lips. You resist for only a second then let him in. His hand slips behind your head as he locks you in. You brace his chest as he takes your breath away. 

“Ahem,” the server clears his throat. 

You rip away from Steve as he snickers. He wipes his mouth shamelessly as you shrink down in embarrassment. The server uncorks the bottle with a pop, his smile effortlessly hiding all judgment. He’s probably honed against all types of customers. 

He pours the bubbly and leaves the bottle. You watch him go and squirm. Steve sits up and takes his glass, “what’sa matter, sweetheart?” 

“N-nothing, I don’t-- I don’t usually do that... in public,” you sniff. 

He laughs again, “I know, you’re a good girl.” He hovers his glass. You take yours and he clinks his against it, “to us.” 

“To... us.” You echo softly. 

You drink as he does, mirroring him. It’s sweet and bubbly. He sets the glass down and reaches for the bottle. He grips it and drags it closer. 

“Only one for me, since I’m driving, so help yourself,” he says. “You deserve it. A nice night to let go.” 

“Oh, I...” you stare at the dark glass. Why did he order the whole bottle? 

He slaps his hand on your thigh and you squeak. Your hand falls over his instinctively. You look at him and lick the moisture from your lips. He growls and kneads your flesh. 

“Sweetheart,” he rasps. “Aren’t you happy? I’m here.” 

Your eyes dart back and forth, “yes, I’m happy.” 

He pushes his shoulders back and his cheek dimples, he shifts on the cushion. His other hand tugs at the top of his belt. 

“Not gonna lie, gonna be hard to hold out all night,” he smirks. “Six years...” 

You blink at him. You won’t look down. That’s too much. 

“You gonna be nice to me?” He leans in to nuzzle your cheek, tickling the back of your neck so you shiver. “Huh? I’m so pent up, baby, you gotta take it easy on me.” 

You shudder and ball your hand up tightly. Your stomach is roaring but not from hunger. The more you think about what he means, what he expects, the sicker you feel. 

“It’s been... a while for me too,” you assure him. “We can take it slow.” 

“Slow, baby?” He hums. “Oh, I don’t think I can.” 

[no-144444]

telling- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | more to come...

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“You alright?” he mused, his hand squeezing yours. You nodded softly, smiling at him. 

“Fine,” you nodded. “I’m just… worried, I guess.” 

He shook his head. “Nothing to be worried about, they love you already.” 

You followed just a step behind him as he led you to the dining room. You’d been dating Oscar Piastri for 2 whole days. The sun set over Melbourne and the wonderful colours poured in from their large windows, as everyone sat down to dinner. Oscar had ‘stolen’ you away from Mae and Nicole for the day, opting to take you to meet some of his old friends and show you around his home town a bit, and you’d really enjoyed yourself. Australia was beautiful, the kind of place you’d like to live once F1 was over. The weather was warm, the sea was blue, and the people were kind. And Oscar was there. You liked it a lot. 

“What did you two get up to today?” Nicole asked over dinner. 

Oscar shrugged. “Not much, just took her to meet some of my old mates and showed her around a bit. She’s never been to Australia.” 

“She can speak y’know,” Mae sassed at her older brother, who rolled his eyes and shut up. 

You chuckled. “It was cool. Melbourne’s really nice. I usually only see it from the cockpit of the car.”

“What’s it like driving so fast?” Tim asked, still fascinated by it. 

“It’s kind of… unnoticeable unless something has gone really wrong,” you chuckled. “It’s cool though, everything just kind of whips past you.” 

“Fascinating,” he nodded. “Different from my line of work anyway,” he laughed. 

“Oh yeah, what about your parents? What do they do?” Nicole asked. Oscar stiffened beside you, watching carefully at how the question would play out. He knew about you and your parents' estranged relationship. He knew it was a sensitive subject. 

“They’re doctors, I think,” you shrugged. “One of them was a psychologist, and the other was a general practitioner.” 

Nicole’s face fell, a pit growing in her stomach as she feared the worst. “Are they passed?” She placed a comforting hand on your forearm. 

“No,” you shook your head. It was awkward to explain, but who cared? They’d probably find out anyway, just like everyone else did. It got leaked to the press in the middle of your 2nd season in F3 that you were estranged from your very famous, very powerful folks, and moreover, that they had a new family. It used to bother you. Sometimes, it still did. But Nicole wasn’t a nosy reporter, and you weren’t 17 anymore. “They just kind of… shipped me off to boarding school when I was 8 and cut me off when I was 17. We just weren’t close and it was clear they didn’t want kids at that time.”

“I’m sorry,” she squeezed your arm and you offered a soft smile. 

“Thank you,” you nodded. “Sorry for bringing the mood down.”

Hattie shook her head. “You didn’t, and anyway, their loss is our gain.” 

You smiled appreciatively at them. “Well, I did want to thank you all again for having me.”

“Any time,” Nicole smiled. “Always.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar smiled as he pulled off your top and pressed your head against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his middle, relaxing into his touch. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low. 

You hummed against his skin. The both of you were lit by only candles (Oscar’s favourite thing ever), his bedroom looking increasingly cosy under the light. The soft breeze coming in from the window gave you goosebumps, but he was warm enough for the both of you. “Yeah, you?”

“I’m good,” he nodded, his hands wrapping around your legs and hoisting you up so that your legs were around his waist, and your arms were around his neck. You squealed and he dropped you onto his bed with a chuckle, pressed a kiss to your cheek, then walked to his bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. He loved kissing you. It was addicting, you were addicting. He had never pinned himself as a physical touch sort of guy, but there basically hadn't been a moment where he hadn't been touching you since you'd made it official, and you didn't seem to mind.

You cuddled up in bed, enjoying the soft pillows and lingering scent of Oscar. As you heard the shower turn on, your eyes fixated on the view outside the window. The ocean flowing gently just outside, the beach in front of you, the moon reflecting off small shells embedded in the sand, it was so beautiful. 

You heard the shower stop, and your attention turned back to you and Oscar. You two were official and it felt insane to be able to say he was your boyfriend, but you enjoyed it all the same. “Osc?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, the sound warped by the toothbrush in his mouth. 

“Do you want to tell your family about us?” you questioned, playing with the hem of one of the pillows. “No pressure, of course.” 

He poked his head out from the bathroom, the towel around his bottom half dangerously low. You let your eyes wander all over him, his wet hair, his build physique, his goofy smile. “You mean it?” 

You nodded. “I mean… yeah? I feel weird being here and them not knowing,” you shrugged. “I don’t want to keep it from them, or really anyone, but especially them, right?” 

He nodded. “I agree,” he grinned. “We’ll tell them this week.” 

You smiled. “Cool,” then turned to your side and grabbed your book. 

“Are you going to act like that wasn’t a milestone?” he mused, joining you in bed, shorts on and towel-dried hair. 

“What?” you questioned, not looking up from your book. 

“You want to tell my parents about us,” he smiled. “That’s big.” 

You shrugged, unconvinced. “Is it though?” 

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your neck. “Yeah, it is,” he lay there for a moment, just watching you read. “You look beautiful,” he smiled. 

You turned to him and laughed. “You’re such a sop.” 

He rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. “Uh-huh,” he nodded and kissed you again. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Do you want to come with us to Sydney?” Hattie offered as you two ate breakfast together. “We’re just going for like a few days, but we’d love to have you.” 

“Plus Mae will be like, miserable without you,” Eddie chuckled. You smiled. 

You shrugged. “I’d love to come.” 

“Where are we going?” Oscar asked as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“Y/n, Eddie, Mae, Mom, and I are all going to go on a trip to Sydney,” Hattie explained. 

Oscar nodded. “Can I come?” 

“Sure-” Eddie shrugged. 

“Mum wants it to be a girls trip,” Mae reminded them. 

“Come on, Y/n is my-”

“She’s our friend too,” Mae argued. 

“Yeah, and arguably, you could let Y/n out of your sight for more than three seconds,” Hattie chuckled. “She doesn’t constantly need you looking out for her. She can have a week away with her mates if she wants.” 

They were both quiet. 

“Hattie, what the fuck?” he scoffed. “If you’d let me finish, I could tell you that Y/n is my girlfriend, and I’d very much like to spend my break with her.” 

Hattie, Eddie, Mae, Nicole, and Tim’s eyes all looked to you for confirmation. You swallowed the bite of food in your mouth and turned to Oscar. 

“It’s only like 4 days,” you shrugged, and he stared back at you. “And then I’ll be back. Or I don’t have to go.” 

“Oh, I thought it was the month trip mum had planned-”

“You’re dating?!” Nicole cheered, rushing over to hug the both of you. “That’s great news!” 

“How’s he done that?” Eddie whispered to Hattie, who just laughed. 

You graciously accepted the hug, then turned back to the conversation. “I don’t mind.” 

“You go, I thought it was the month-long thing my mum wanted to do,” he explained, and kissed the top of your head. “When are you leaving?” 

“Tomorrow,” Hattie interjected. 

“Cool,” he smiled. 

“Cool,” you mirrored. 

It wasn’t exactly how either of you were planning on telling them, but it worked all the same.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

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[chaosduckies]

Friends in Small Places (6)

Long story short: hit a writing block, had trouble editing, school, but we're so back and I'm excited to write all of the ideas that I've been thinking about for forever! (and thank you to the people who gave me so many ideas for future chapters and scenes) Oh man I love writing size shifter stories. So anyways I hope you enjoy this very short chapter!

Word count: 2.5k

CW: None!

It was safe to say that things were slowly getting back to normal. Things weren’t as chaotic anymore. I was allowed to keep on seeing Cas, and I did every day after my classes. He seemed to like the company even if we never really did anything. 

I was still working on getting permission to at least let him see his parents. It wasn’t exactly going so well if I were being honest. Anytime I mentioned it they said that the idea was absurd. I tried asking several of the nurses what it would take to get his parents or someone he knows down here... They said that as long as he was still unstable then he wasn’t allowed to see anyone. But I didn’t understand. Cas seemed perfectly fine. That entire situation two weeks ago was a big thing but he’s doing so much better now! If anything he’s somehow even more cautious about his movements. I don’t understand why they don’t just let him have one nice thing. 

Even if Cas wasn’t able to have any other visitors besides me and a few nurses and doctors, I managed to get them to agree to another therapist coming in for a few days. Ryan had asked me tons of questions about what was going on, and I had to answer all of them. Of course, being the great friend that he is, he offered to help out by trying to get Cas either out of there or get his brother to come. Either one would be great, and since he’s older and more experienced they might listen to him more than me. 

After classes, Ryan said he had to go check up on his partner before we left.  I asked why he didn’t have to stay with her all the time, and he just explained that she was doing so much better under his care that they were already about to get him a new “patient”. If I were being honest I envied him. He was so much better at this than I was, and he gets along with pretty much everyone. I wondered why I couldn’t, but that was an obvious answer.

I hadn’t expected any of this to happen while watching over Cas. I mean I thought I was doing a good job up until the incident, but to be fair there wasn’t much I could do in that situation other than just try and calm him down after they lied to him. I would be upset if I wasn’t allowed to see my parents anymore and they kept me pretty much isolated for the entirety of my life. Who wouldn’t be? Cas has apologized more times than I count for “making things harder” for me. One it wasn’t his fault, and two, he’s so careful and gentle there was no way he’d make things harder for me. Of course, initially, I had thought it would be impossible to even do something like this, but I’m learning a lot about this broken world we live in.

Ryan came back a few minutes later, ecstatic as always. Of course he wasn’t scared. Why would he be? He was a shifter too. Hopefully the two will get along, I already told Cas that I might be bringing a friend sometime this week, so there weren’t any huge surprises. I just had to hang onto hope that nothing bad would happen. 

“You said he’s really anxious a lot of the time right?” He asked me as we walked along the sidewalk to the huge hospital building. 

“Yeah, it’s mostly him worrying about hurting me, or really anyone in the room with him.” He nodded his head, seemingly excited about this. It was almost like he had a plan. Maybe the same thing he did with his partner? Well.. maybe a little different since his partner shrinks. Meanwhile, mine is a literal skyscraper. 

  The awkward silence stretched on between us, but that was quickly put an end to, “Hey Liam, about that incident, you said that no one tried helping him at first? Just straight lockdown?” Ryan looked a little uneasy, but I had to nod my head. I had wondered why he asked the question, but I wasn’t going to question him. But it was a little strange why he was so troubled. For as long as I’ve known him he was the kind of person that hasn’t been afraid, so it was making me worry a little. What was he scared of? 

“Ah well, I’m glad to at least help! I can’t wait to meet him either.” The nervous look on his face disappeared almost as fast as it came. Another reason why I was jealous of him. It’s like he could just brush off any inconvenience, any tiny little negative thought he’s ever had in just an instant. Though, I guess that’s what makes him such an amazing friend. 

“Yeah, he’s extremely nice. Fun to be around.” I smiled. I wasn’t lying either. He was the nicest person I’ve met, and that’s saying something. After a while, you get used to being around someone who’s much bigger than you, and then you realize they’re more scared of themselves than you are of them… I took a deep breath, finally making it onto the ground of the hospital. 

Ryan has never been here before, so I had to help him get through checking in, and of course any new people that aren’t related to or working with Cas have to do a deep and thorough search for whatever reason. Ryan kept on joking about all of the safety measures he had to go through, even making him take off his hoodie. Seriously, what were they even looking for? I didn’t have to go through as many of the checks since I come every day and actually have a connection with Cas. 

After about ten minutes of finally getting Ryan to be able to come in the room with me, we were finally walking down the huge hallway as the nurse led us. We reached the door, the nurse opened it and gave us both a smile. Well, here's to hoping Cas isn’t too spooked by Ryan. I mean I did warn him. 

I walked in front of Ryan, slowly walking in, and seeing Cas finish one of the books that were on the bookshelf. When the door slammed behind us, he looked up and lightly smiled, eyes trailing behind me and I could tell that his nerves shot up almost immediately. Especially when he fumbled while trying to place his book on the ground, instead landing with a loud thud. It made my anxiousness get the better of me before I brushed it off and stopped in front of them. 

“Uh, remember when I told you that I’d be bringing a friend here? Well, this is Ryan.” I introduced them, watching Ryan confidently walk a little ahead of me. 

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you. Casper, right?” Cas stared, almost like he was shocked at how confident they were. 

“H-hi. You can c-call me Cas.” His eyes darted to me, as if asking what he should do, but not even I had an idea. If I were being honest I was just going to let Ryan figure these things out. Usually Cas and I just played a few board games even when the pieces were as big as I was, or watched whatever movies he was allowed, which weren’t that many. I know it doesn’t sound like much but if I were being honest it seemed to be helping a lot with his confidence. It helps me get used to it too. He still seemed a little scared to move sometimes though, even if he doesn’t admit it. 

“Well Cas, we’re gonna get you out of here once and for all!” Ryan claimed. Cas looked at me, a little shocked at the outburst but gave his best nervous smile he could manage. I didn’t know what Ryan had planned but I trusted that he would make the smart decisions. I know Cas gets a little scared of new things, especially with these new pills they have him on. Paroxetine? I could tell that it was a strong one. I guess they added whatever makes him hurt so much in it because every time he takes it I notice how he cringes at any movement he makes or how shaky his hands get. I want his pain tolerance, but I don’t want to get it like how he did. It was inhumane and didn’t even seem to be helping him control his height. 

“Uh hey, you won’t be doing anything too much right?” I whispered. 

“Yeah don’t worry I’m not gonna do much. You know me.” He smiled. I did know how he worked, and it always seemed to work no matter the person. It was kind of pathetic of me that I needed so much help, but I was doing this so Cas could have a real life instead of being cooped up in a house without being able to see his parents. I felt so bad, and if this was the one time I could do something worthwhile well then I’d do what I could. 

I walked over to Cas, sitting by him to let Ryan do his thing. I just had to watch as Ryan sat and played 20 questions, asking questions about each other. It really kind of seemed like they were getting along a lot faster than Cas and I did. Maybe that was because they could both kind of relate, and Ryan was a lot more of a people person than I was. This was a good thing though. Things would move along faster and we could get Cas out of here and able to see his family again. Now I just had to figure out how I was going to repay Ryan for helping me out. I wasn’t so confident that I would’ve been able to do this on my own, even if Cas and I were getting really close. 

At some point I think I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was getting late. I groaned, sitting up and yawning. One look around and I realized that I was still in Cas’s room, even in the same place. 

“Mmm… Cas?” I rubbed my eyes before catching his hand in the corner of my vision. I whipped my head around, seeing that he had a book in hand as usual. 

“You’re up?” He quietly whispered, his attention focused on me now. 

“Yeah. Where’d Ryan go?” I lazily stood up, searching around and not seeing him anywhere. 

“Oh uh, he left a while ago. He didn’t want to wake you up.” He laughed softly, wincing when he thought he was speaking too loudly. Guess I’d have to talk to Ryan tomorrow or something. Just to see what he thinks I should do. I trusted his judgment more than I trusted mine. 

“How’d it go? Sorry I fell asleep.” I asked, stretching a little bit and packing a few things up. I knew that the nurses would come in eventually and force me out, but I’d just like to use whatever time I had left to check up on him. 

“N-no. You’re all good,” He started, nervously smiling, “Um, he was nice. I liked him. I’m glad you’re trying to help me get out of here, but I don’t think that they’ll let me.” He sighed sadly, eyeing the cast around my leg and cringing. I looked down, sucking in a deep breath. 

“Could you help me up, please?” His eyes widened, hesitantly lowering his hand by me. I struggled to get on without moving my cast around too much but managed before holding me above his knees. I could tell he was nervous, maybe even a little scared but this wasn’t the first time I’ve been in his hands and I trusted that he wouldn’t drop me. 

“Well, I think they’ll let you out of here. They’re just being stubborn.” I shrugged my shoulders. I think it was ignorant that they wouldn’t let him out of here already. To me, he’s doing a lot better than when I first met him. 

“¿De verdad lo crees? You really think so?” His tone was sad like he was just losing hope of getting out of here at all. Well, if I just left him here alone I would’ve never lived with myself. That would just be too harsh. Plus, I like to think that we were friends. I mean, we hang out pretty much every day unless I had schoolwork to catch up on. Why would I want to leave him here alone in the first place? 

“Why wouldn’t I? Someone as nice and nervous as you shouldn’t have to be watched over.” We both laughed. 

“Nervous? What? I’m not nervous.” 

“I can literally feel your hand shaking right now.” I joked, getting a soft laugh out of him. He looked away for a moment, the silence stretching between us. 

“Liam, tha-” 

Cas went quiet whenever we heard the door slam open, a nurse walking in. For some odd reason, they just looked a little troubled with something but motioned for me to go. I sighed as Cas lowered me back down, watching carefully as I climbed down and walked towards the door, the nurse eyeing my crutches the entire way.

“See you tomorrow!” I waved bye to him, getting a tiny wave in return before the nurse closed the door behind me. She escorted me out, but instead of towards the exit, it was towards another room I’d never been to before. I was about to question her before she walked into the room, grabbing a piece of paper and sighing, a nervous look on her face. 

“I have no idea if I’m making the right decision, but don’t make me regret it.” She sighed, signing what looked to be a ton of important information, but what caught my eye was the bold print at the top. Allowance of family members. My eyes widened in shock, my heartbeat growing faster from excitement. I… did it? Was she letting him see his family? 

“This paper allows Casper to see one family member for one day. The professionals cannot know about this, but… I do believe that after hearing from you two earlier that he should be allowed this. So, here you go.” She handed me the paper and pen, with only one more place to sign to officiate that we were allowing this. I quickly grabbed the pen and signed, not even hesitating for one moment, “Thank you! I don’t know what to say!” I smiled, hugging the nurse. She sighed, hugging me back and telling me that I could go back to tell Cas. 

I was surprised that I didn’t trip on my way there out of excitement, and when I opened the door I couldn’t hold in my excitement for him. 

“Cas! How would you like to see your brother tomorrow?” I smiled, seeing the shock and surprise in his eyes, and it was priceless.  ——————

TAKE THAT WRITING BLOCK!!! Oh man I can’t wait to continue writing this. And so sorry for it being like five months since I’ve actually updated this but WE’RE BACK!!! Thanks for reading! :D

Taglist: @da3dm @smolboiremy @box-beanz

(if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist please let me know!)

[atozfic]

i hope life is treating you well <3

it surprisingly is, which is making me suspicious... like, who tf is the universe gonna send to traumatise me this time?

[thrashkink-coven]

Super easy and cheap devotional acts for beginners.

A nice cup and some clean, fresh, water on the altar can often be all you need for daily offerings

Grow a plant on your altar, use your weekly watering as a devotional act. Hermes is currently helping my peace lily grow :)

Draw their sigil on your nails and then paint over them with nail polish that matches their color correspondences.

If you can’t acquire alcohol for your deities (wine, vodka etc) because you’re too young, white vinegar also works. The quality we’re looking for is the purification aspect. White vinegar is natural, antibacterial and never goes bad. You can leave it on your altar until it evaporates if you want.

If you work with a deity involved with self love like Aphrodite, investing a little more time into your skin care and scent can be very rewarding. Nothing super boujie, it can be as simple as getting some nice smelling lotion at the dollar store.

Food and water offerings don’t have to be external, especially if you’re in the broom closet and don’t have an altar. Reserve the first bite of your meal for your deity. Savour its taste while you think about them. Pour yourself a crisp glass of cold water and guzzle it as a devotional act.

Use a washable or dry erase marker to draw sigils on your shower wall for bath rituals. It’ll come right off when you’re done.

Tea bags are just bags of dried herbs. You can use these as offerings or draw sigils on them and burn them for witchcraft. No one is ever suspicious about a little tea. Adding a tea bag to your water offerings also gives them an extra kick.

A couple dollars at the thrift store will take you a long way. I love thrifting items because they’re usually well loved. I especially like thrifting spirituality books that past practitioners have written in. Sometimes my deities communicate with me through the books that are available on any given day. If I was just talking to Leviathan about the power of water and I see a book about Hydromancy, I know that he’s sending me a sign. Like, 90% of the books Lucifer has sent me popped up at the thrift store. Most expensive one was $7.99. (and I tag swapped it for 2.99 😊 thanks, Hermes-

and on this note, literally steal. Not from small local thrift stores, but I mean this with my whole chest, steal from Value Village. If you can sneakily swap a tag and get something for cheaper literally do it. Value Village gets all their inventory for free I literally do not care. Corporate thrift stores don’t deserve rights. I steal from Value Village as a devotional act to Hermes 😊 lmao )

If you don’t have money to spend on really nice paintings and posters of your deities for your altar, start buying books about them. It’s a double win. A book about Greek religion will certainly have multiple beautiful sculptures and paintings of Aphrodite that I can cut out and put on my wall. A book about angels might have a cool painting of Lucifer. Books about Goddesses, ancient religions, anthropology, astrology etc. You get the opportunity to learn, and if it’s a book you don’t particularly care too much for, you can take it apart for imagery. People ask me all the time where I got all of my paintings and pictures from. BOOKS.

Does your deity have a kind of complicated sigil that you love but you also kinda hate redrawing every other day? Sorry Cerberus (Naberius) I love you but that sigil is so complicated babe.

Learn how to block print! It’s very simple. You get a block of linoleum (usually pretty cheap, I think mine were like $5) , some ink (~$10), and a carving tool (varies depending), and make a sigil stamp! All you gotta do is draw your sigil and carve it out nicely one time. You can still bless it and imbue it with your energy, and you can easily put it on prayers, talismans etc.

Chalk is your best friend. Use it to draw sigils on the floor or wall that can easily be wiped away. You can imbue special chalk and use it for casting circles if you don’t like the mess of salt.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 ��𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

This piece contains 18+ content

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary Eddie’s had a long day, but being with you is enough to turn even the worst days into something sweeter [fluff, artsy reader, mild hurt/comfort, smut, 3.2k]

A/N This is some of my favorite smut I've written. Still very much stuck on him.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

It’s much quieter in your neighborhood than it is in Forest Hills. No muffled music or raised voices carry from the houses around the cul-de-sac. Tired men don’t tinker on rusty cars. Unleashed dogs don’t sniff their way through ailing yards that aren’t their own. The only signs of life are cars in driveways and lamplight through windows. The golden sun hangs low in the darkening sky.

Eddie makes a final attempt to exhale the weight of the day away before he presses your doorbell. Not even a second later, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

The smile you offer has him convinced that every butterfly he’s ever seen now exists within the confines of his stomach. It’s as if familiarity and radiance itself exist in the way your lips lift upwards to reveal the glint of your teeth.

“I heard you pull up,” you say. “In case you were wondering why I opened the door in two seconds…” you trail off when you realize you don’t sound as convincing as you want. 

Eddie smiles with a fond shake of his head. The action causes more of his curls fall onto his shoulders. He’d never make fun of you for being eager to see him. Especially when half the people in Hawkins care more about his skills beneath the hood than him as a person.

“Sorry I’m later than I said I’d be,” he says as you usher him inside. “Wanted to grab a shower before I came over.” 

“Didn’t you hear?” Eddie's brow furrows innocently at your question. “I love the smell of motor oil.” 

He huffs out a chuckle that makes you bite your lower lip to keep from grinning like a fool. Then he laughs again, deeper this time, like a funny thought has struck him. But he takes a step closer, cups your cheek, and kisses you. His lips are slow and easy against your own.

When he pulls away, you catch the weariness in his eyes, softened by gratitude as he takes you in. He could’ve gone home. He could’ve turned in for the night. But he wanted to see you too. He needed to see you. 

“Hey,” you say softly. “Everything okay?” 

You reach out to tuck his hair behind his ears, and he lets you. Any other time, he’d shake it back loose with a playful smirk. Tonight he doesn’t. 

He catches your hand as you pull away, and dots a few kisses over your knuckles. Work and playing guitar have calloused his palms. His steel rings glint in the low light of the foyer. 

“I’m okay,” he says into your skin. You remain quiet in hopes that it’ll coax more out of him. “Long day at the shop.” 

You hum. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. Don’t be. 

“Got you something,” he remembers. "Been holding onto it for a couple days." He realizes he’s empty-handed.

“Shit. I left it in the van.” 

You chuckle as he presses another quick kiss to the back of your hand before he lets go and pulls away. 

When Eddie comes back inside, you’re on the living room couch with one leg tucked beneath you. The TV plays low reruns of I Love Lucy, but you grant him all your attention as he settles beside you. Before you have the chance to ask what’s in the brown paper bag, he pulls out a nice set of drawing pencils and a leather-bound sketchbook. 

Your mouth falls open as he passes them over to you, his expression quietly hopeful. Big brown eyes eager for your reaction. 

“Eddie…” 

“You filled your last sketchbook. And you’ve been needing some new pencils." He rests his forearms on his thighs and licks his lips. "Knew you’d hold off on getting them for yourself so I figured..." 

A smile finally breaks across your face.

“These are the fancy kind too," you note as you look over the pencils. "Thank you so much, baby. Really.” He shrugs like it's no big deal even as he bites back the proud quirk of his lips. It was a privilege to be able to do little things like this when he could.

The leather of the sketchbook is smooth as you flip open the cover to run your fingers over the crisp, fragrant pages. 

When you meet his eyes again, your gaze is soft and observant, like you have an idea. It feels like you're seeing straight into him. He's handsome. Long curls, kind eyes, plush lips. Even then, it's clear he still wears the remnants of the hours prior, though he masks it well.

“Maybe I can draw you," you propose with the quiet hope he’ll oblige. “To break everything in.

"All you've gotta do is sit back and relax. We can talk, watch some TV, eat my snacks." He smiles at that last part. 

After the frustrated customers he had to diffuse today, he can do that. Gladly so. 

•••

The warm lamplight and the glow of the TV cast soft shadows across Eddie's face. His long lashes appear heavy with the relaxed way he blinks at the screen. He’s sunk back into the cushions, legs spread just so, hands interlocked over his stomach, rising and falling with his breaths. An empty bowl of popcorn rests on the coffee table along with a hollow box of Jujyfruits. 

Five separate sketches of him now constitute the beginnings of your new sketchbook. He tilts his head to peer over at you when he no longer hears the familiar brush of graphite against paper.

The cushions shift as he straightens up and rubs his eyes with lazy fists. 

“All finished?” he asks, and you nod. “Can I see?” 

When you pass him the sketchbook, his eyes rove over the drawings with the attentiveness of a critic, but void of any harshness or critique. It’s more of an assessment, an appreciation. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. Raises the book to get a better look at the hatching technique you used to shade the first sketch you completed. 

It’s a straight-on portrait that he’d faced you for. There’s a sense of ease about his gaze. A warmth paired with an underlying pensiveness. He knows he’s being studied but feels more seen than exposed. 

Except, Eddie's so much more than you’ll ever be able to confine to a couple sheets of paper. Charming in an awkward way, with one of the kindest hearts you’ve ever known. Loving him is as easy as blinking or breathing. So natural it feels innate. He feels your gaze as he studies the sketches.

When he redirects his attention to you, he offers one of his steady, slow-moving smiles that never fails to make your stomach flutter. 

“Always staring at me,” he accuses, too lighthearted to be mistaken for a complaint. 

In truth, you observed everyone and everything. But never with the same admiration allotted to Eddie. There were so many layers that you feared you wouldn’t have the time to unravel them all. You’d never wanted to know the inner workings of another person so intimately. 

After a lifetime of slipping through the cracks, it sure was nice to be seen in an unadulterated way by you. 

“Can’t help it,” you murmur.

Eddie tracks your movements as you grab one of the accent pillows and toss it to the floor at his feet. A second later, you drop down onto it. His breath catches when you place two gentle hands on his knees and spread his legs so you can better settle between them. 

"Hope your day's gotten a little better since you’ve been here," you murmur.

Eddie swallows. Sets your sketchbook aside with a jittery hand. 

“It has." His voice is thick as anticipation stirs within him. "As soon as I walked through the door.”

You hum as he squirms, hyperaware of your touch as your hands drift along his thighs. His head tips back when you palm him through the fabric of his jeans. Warmth ignites in his cheeks and melts to his torso as his pants tighten in the wake of his arousal. Along the thick column of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobs with another swallow.

It hadn’t even taken much. 

His legs fall open wider, like a gate, when you begin to unbuckle his belt. The metal hardware clinks with your movements, breaking the hush between you. You pop the button, drag the zipper down. 

“Wanna help me get these off?” A sweet smile plays on your lips as you blink up at him. 

Eager, Eddie lifts his hips, and you help him shuck down his pants and underwear. There's a tent in the front of his boxers when you get to them, and he shifts with the new exposure by the time everything pools at his socked feet. 

Featherlight, your fingertips ghost toward the apex of his thighs, his milky skin dusted with sparse hair. His muscles twitch at the ticklish sensation, and he braces for the inevitable.

Except your touch flutters past where he aches. Bypasses where he strains toward his stomach. Instead, your hands sweep over his hips. Slip beneath the hem of his shirt to scratch along the low part of his stomach where a thin, dark trail of hair leads down to his need. 

His chest deflates on a slow, bated breath. You hide your coy smile in the inside of his thigh in the form of a kiss. Right over the small smiley face inked into his skin. Eddie huffs in flustered amusement. 

“This is—” 

“One of your favorite tattoos of mine,” he finishes with flushed cheeks. 

You grin in feigned surprise. “How’d you know?” You trace your nails back down to his quivering thighs. 

His arousal kicks up when you grant him the gentle brush of your fingertips over the rounded fullness that rests heavily between his legs.

“Sweetheart,” he finally sighs, dark eyes molten when they find yours. 

“Teddy,” you coo back. 

He doesn’t have time to brace when you begin to pepper an alternating line of kisses up his thighs until your lips find the part of him that needs you the most. 

His breath hitches. “Baby—”

A pleasured shudder rolls through him as you kiss up the elegant curve of the thick vein along his underside. You follow the path of his need all the way to the rosy tip, where a wet, gleaming pearl beads in a testament to his want. You suckle it away. Savor it.

Eddie's eyes flutter shut, body taut as you spit over him and wrap a secure hand around his base. The slick heat of your palm makes his hips stutter as you begin to pull upward in a steady tug. At the top, you circle your thumb around the mushroom tip. You dedicate another swipe of your thumb to a slow trace along his slit. 

Eddie is warm and rigid in your hold, beautifully at your mercy, and he knows it. Doesn't mind it. The full hum in his throat unravels into a low, shameless moan when his lips part. 

“Yeah, baby?” you meet his gaze and hold it. Heat pools between your legs. “You feelin’ good?” 

Eddie reaches out to stroke his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Please don’t stop.” 

You wouldn’t dream of it.

As you continue your languid strokes, you mouth at his inner thighs. Kisses, nibbles, licks. He’s so wound up that all of it gets to him. Pleasure tugs low in his gut with a radiance he can feel in his fingertips, his toes. 

With a practiced gentleness, your free hand lowers to massage the velvet weight of him that you’ve neglected. A rugged sound escapes him as he writhes. Even more so when you move to lap him again, this time taking him halfway and working what's left over with your hand. 

You pull away to trace your lips along his shaft, mindful of every inch and the tell-tale shudder that startles through him. You peer up through your lashes to find desperation etched across his features. 

He cups your cheek to get you to pause. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he insists. "Wanna feel you—lemme feel you.” 

You clench around nothing as he encourages you upwards. 

After you shuffle to your feet, you push your lounge shorts down, followed by your panties. Eddie strokes himself, gaze heavy-lidded as he watches. 

No sooner do you move forward to straddle his lap, on your knees with your hands braced on his shoulders. His hands find your hips, but one drifts lower in a curious glide between your parted legs. He graces through your slick folds, then brushes his thumb over your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s gauging if you’re ready for him, but you nearly crumble forward at his thoughtful touch. 

“So sensitive,” he notes lightly. A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes as they find yours. 

“Because of you.” You pout as you reach down and align him at your entrance. 

He catches at your slick warmth and whispers a string of curses. It shouldn’t already be this good. You shouldn’t already be this ready. But both things are true because the two of you have somehow stumbled into your own little perfect world. Both his hands find your hips again as you ease yourself down to welcome him in. Inch by slow inch, every vein and ridge. 

You don’t realize you’re whining until you’ve sunken to accommodate all of him. Eddie runs a soothing hand up your back as you lean forward into his chest in an encompassing haze of fullness. Already, he’s touching that devastating part of you that’s so thoughtfully tucked away. He’s the only one who’s been able to reach it. To find it as if the path had been carved for him alone. It’s a homecoming in its own right. 

“You feel so good,” he sighs the news like it's hot off the press. Like the words can't make it out of his mouth any sooner.

For a brief moment, stillness prevails as you adjust around him. You tuck your nose into his hair, where the subtle scent of his sweet, herbal shampoo lingers. Instead of canting his hips upwards like he so desperately wants to, he lets you have the moment. Presses a kiss to the bulb of your exposed shoulder, then allows his hands to find the hem of your tank top. You move to pull it over your head. He does the same with his own shirt, biting back a groan as you shift over top of him. 

Your nipples pebble in the cool air, even more so when he cups your chest and circles them with his thumbs. The sensation throws you into a shiver that jumpstarts a roll of your hips. Eddie’s fingers return to your waist, a silent encouragement. 

Before long, you leverage the bend at your knees to lift off him, then lower yourself back down. A rhythm soon forms, Eddie’s hips rise to meet yours. His thighs quake as a strangled sound of relief spills past his lips. 

A whimper escapes you as an invisible string pulls you forward to dot a few languid kisses across the apple of his cheek as you continue to ride him. 

“Oh—shit,”  he exhales shakily. “You’re perfect, sweetheart.” He sounds panicked and awed all the same. 

All you can do is hum at his words. Every time you lower onto him, it feels like he manages to reach a new depth that makes you want to crawl away. Yet your hands find his tattooed chest for the sole purpose of feeling more of him, his warm, dewed skin. A shiver shakes him when the tip of your nail grazes over one of his nipples. Spurred on, you pinch the peaked flesh next, which earns you a particularly hard thrust as he groans. A jolt of electricity rushes straight between his legs with the threat of being his undoing. 

“You’re gonna make me come, angel.” The shameless, exasperated way he says it makes you clench around him. 

You lower a hand to rub tight, purposeful circles over the tender bud between your legs, the pleasure sharper in the wake of his words. 

“I want you to come,” you attempt to keep your voice steady as you lilt. “Want you to fill me up. Want all of you.” 

Eddie groans and sags back into the cushions in an air of disbelief. Somehow you’re real. Somehow you chose him. And you’d never led him to believe that things should be any other way.

You lean forward in pursuit of him to kiss his throat, then up along his jaw until you’ve arrived at his bitten lips. The kiss carries the neediness of being on the edge. 

“Always gonna want you,” you whisper heavily against his mouth.  

Eddie whimpers. “You have me.” His thighs tense beneath you as he teeters on the brink. This time, when his hand finds your waist, it’s to ground himself in the intoxicating rock of your hips. 

You kiss him one last time, saliva slinking between you, before you touch your dewy forehead to his. 

“Come with me,” you frantically encourage. “Eddie, please—” 

The broken sound that punches out of him sends you into the thralls of a reckless release. It’s swift and forceful like a lightning bolt zipping from the sky. Your walls flutter around him as pleasure courses in every direction. Eddie has no choice but to let go. He jolts beneath you like stricken earth. His stomach clenches in time with each pulsing wave of release. 

Eddie’s neck becomes your hiding place as aftershocks ripple through you both. Your lips begin to press more deliberate kisses to the space where his neck and shoulder join. Beneath you, he sits like putty and softens within the warmth of you. He’s attuned to every small shift you make. You’re not quite ready to relinquish the fullness. 

A steady, clammy hand glides up your back and settles at the nape of your neck. When you sit up to meet his tired, satisfied gaze, you're struck by a surge of fondness. Of love. If you could erase his bad days, keep them from ever touching him, you would. But you can’t. They’ll come, for both of you, whether you like it or not. 

Still, you had this. Each other. That’s enough to make life a little sweeter, a little kinder. Even on the days that are anything but. 

Eddie’s lashes flutter when you run a gentle finger down his nose. “You okay?” you ask. 

He shifts beneath you, wincing at his forgotten sensitivity. A small smile pulls at his lips as he finally nods at your question, contentment clear in his eyes. 

“Promise?” you ask. 

“I promise, sweetheart.” 

He offers his pinkie as a seal of truth. 

- 

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all!

MORE EDDIE

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[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 3 | part 4 | part 5 is up! scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[fgumi]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LOSER IN A HOT MAN'S BODY

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, school!au, headcanon, WC; 2.8k, A/N; i love losers that love that girlfriends entirely too much but, at the same time, not enough. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso }

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ part two is up!

loser!heeseung was never the first one to get chosen for anything. well, he did get chosen first for musicals and solos! he had a beautiful voice and there was no denying that. but, for anything else? nope. it wasn't until you transferred over to his high school that he got picked willingly (and not because you guys were the only two left). you approached him in gym class after your teacher said to partner up for conditioning. "hey! i'm y/n. do you think we could be partners today?"

heeseung just blinked at you and then turned to see if someone was behind him. when he verified you were talking to him, he turned back to see you with a bemused look, a slight crease forming right between your brows. "you are talking to me, right?" he asked nervously.

a wry smile formed on your lips as you nodded. "there’s no one else around."

heeseung couldn't believe it. someone who wasn't a part of the theatre department was talking to him! so, he agreed with only a moment's hesitation. by the time sit-ups came around, heeseung knew about your basic interests and one secret: you were big on anime. you explained to him, during his sad attempts at pushups, that you loved anime but remained closeted because the boys at your last school made it weird. heeseung was careful not to let his excitement show; he didn't wanna scare you off before he really got to know you. eventually, after all the hellish exercises your teacher put you through, heeseung shyly asked you why you wanted to be partners.

"you looked like the type that doesn't judge people for struggling," you replied after drinking your water. you wiped the droplets of water that trickled down your neck and then offered heeseung some. "i don't have cooties. promise."

he gave you a faint, unsure smile, his hand reaching out slowly, half expecting you to pull it back and say psych! but you didn’t. you just patiently waited for him to take it. honestly, he just looked like a spooked deer to you, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. after class was over and it was time for lunch, heeseung deflated. it was nice talking to you while it lasted.

“heeseung! wait up!”

he turned to you with round eyes, watching you rush over, a backpack draped over your right shoulder. you were freshly showered, water still dripping off the ends of your hair. you looked... happy? you slowed to a stop right in front of him.

“do you mind if we eat together?”

you wanted to eat with him? a cool girl like you wants to eat with a certified loser like him?

“it’s okay if you already have plans! i think i can find somewhere else to sit.”

no! you jumped a little. heeseung retracted into himself, rubbing the back of his neck. he’s never had someone ask to eat with him. he just sort of sat with his theatre classmates—not even friends. they all thought he was weird. you gave him a puzzled look.

“are you sure? you don’t have to pity me just because i’m new,” you pouted. gosh, was it just him or did everyone find you adorable?

“i’m sure. i was just hesitant since i’m not known for being, you know, popular.”

rolling your eyes, you clapped a hand on his shoulder. “as if that actually matters.” you tugged him along, linking your arm with his. thank goodness you were busy looking for the cafeteria because heeseung was struggling to keep the blush off of his face. as much as heeseung didn’t want to get his hopes up, he hoped that you guys would become real friends.

loser!heeseung loved his hobbies. he could talk about them for hours; they were his passion. he loved playing maple story, league of legends, team fight tactics, going to the renaissance fair, studying the metrics of trot (this one was a little too niche to really talk about though). none of these passions were greater than his passion for you. this man was dedicated to learning everything there was to know about you now that you were friends. you teased him about how stalkerish he sounded. almost immediately, he apologized.

the way his shoulders shrunk and eyes drooped down, you were definitely the asshole. when he stopped talking, you panicked. so, you didn’t think. you kissed his cheek. you blinked. he blinked. you blinked at each other. you know that ouran high school host club scene where tamaki realized haruhi is a girl and she complimented him? you’d bet your whole house that’s how red you were because you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

heeseung’s mind was still white noise. any sounds that were supposed to reach his ears were muffled, like he was underwater. was he underwater? was he dragged down into the depths of the styx river only to be lost forever? was he dreaming to cope with the harsh reality of his death? was he—

“heeseung?” you meekly called. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that without your consent. that was—”

he must’ve called upon achilles’s guidance and invincibility because he didn’t know where he got this courage otherwise. what courage you may ask? well, the courage that planted heeseung’s lips on yours.

your lips were so soft. they tasted like strawberries. he wondered if strawberries were your favorite fruit. he could kiss you forever. oh crap, he was kissing you.

anxiety crept up his spine, invading his every nerve; it was telling him he had to pull away or else you’d leave him forever. except, when he started moving away, he noticed you followed, reluctant to end the kiss. your eyes were closed too. he could’ve sworn they were open from shock.

heeseung could feel his back creaking in protest at the odd angle; he would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for you clutching the front of his shirt. huh? oh! maybe, you liked the kiss! you liked the kiss, like he did! oh, but now he couldn’t breathe. what should he do? he didn’t want the kiss to end.

he pressed back, holding out until the last possible moment. but you pulled away first, gasping for air. a blush dusted your cheeks and heeseung could guess that he was red too—probably not as pretty of a shade as yours though.

“s-sorry,” he stammered as you caught your breath. “i don’t know why i—”

you shut him up with another kiss (but this one was too short for heeseung’s newfound thirst for kissing you). when you pulled away, his big eyes tugged at your heart. they looked so sad that you moved away. it made you giggle—this whole situation. for someone that was trying to learn everything about you, he sure did miss your huge crush on him.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how he got so fortunate. was he a luck domain cleric in real life? he felt like he was rolling nat 20s continuously. he managed to ask you out (though, he was stuttering the whole time and nearly tripped on top of you—it was a whole affair that he’d rather forget) and be dating you 3 years later? he was one lucky man. and, some might say even luckier as time went on.

you got more confident once you guys got to college and, thus, you got hotter. you found your sense of self and your fashion reflected it. heeseung wasn’t doing so bad either. he found people that he got along with and could proudly (read: shyly) call friends. he found beomgyu in the league discord server that the university had and jeongin in d&d club! he’d meet up with them every once in awhile whenever they all felt like they needed to touch grass. of course, his friends knew you came first. you were heeseung’s everything. what they couldn’t wrap around their heads was how heeseung was your everything.

“you’ve been dating for 3 years!? no way, man.” “are you secretly rich? the son of some big conglomerate?” “all offense, she’s hot and you’re… not.”

heeseung didn’t let that bother him. his friends were idiots that had never felt the touch of a woman. plus, you trained him better (you told him to stop talking about himself like he was your pet, but he refused). you loved him so much without any strings attached. you were patient with him and listened to him ramble about how league kept nerfing his favorite character with every update. you never tried to change him and you told him it’s because you fell in love with him for how he was. but, there came a day when he wished you did. he happened to overhear a conversation between you and your friends.

“girl, there’s no way you’ve been with heeseung for 3 years and he hasn’t picked up a single thing about fashion from you.” “the face cards are mismatched, ma. you’re up here and he’s not even on this plane.” “don’t you ever get embarrassed whenever you guys go out? i mean, he dresses like he’s stuck in his mom’s basement.” “i hope he compensates in other ways because he’s not doing it where i can see.” “how are you okay with someone that much skinnier than you? doesn’t your body dysmorphia get triggered?”

you stopped talking to those girls after that. however, it didn’t stop heeseung from getting hurt by it. it was true, in heeseung’s eyes. you deserved much better than what he was giving you. how is it that you loved him even though he looked the exact same as he did 3 years ago? there were so many hot guys around and you never so much as turned your head to glance. there was nothing to support his insecurity about being hot enough or being enough in general. nonetheless, that horrid conversation sparked something in heeseung.

“baby, i’m heading to the gym. i’ll be back later to cook us dinner, okay?” if your brows raised any further, they’d merge into your hairline. “the gym?” heeseung nodded firmly. “gotta start working out to combat all the ramen i eat.”

“hee, you haven’t gained weight since we started dating, despite you eating my leftovers and your food. you don’t need to combat anything,” you laughed. when you saw heeseung was still tying the laces on his shoes, you let it go, thinking nothing of it. you kissed him and reminded him to stay hydrated.

thus began heeseung’s gym journey. it was difficult. muscle barely stuck even though he was eating well over 3000 calories. but, he could see his body getting toned, more cut, so he was happy. maybe people would stop looking at the two of you like you were wrong.

his wishful thinking remained at that. despite getting noticeably more fit, people still talked. they talked about his fashion, his haircut, and his hygiene (he thought this one was unfair considering he always did skincare with you and loved doing your nightly routines).

so, on the day you told him you were going thrifting, he asked to tag along. you were taken aback. heeseung never came with you; he didn’t see the point when he had perfectly good clothes at home. but you let him come along. you thought he’d just peruse with you or be there to make sure you paid with the card he gave you (he made a lot of money from his internship and begged you to use it for anything you wanted), but he didn’t. he asked a lot of questions.

“do you think this would look good on me?” “do these go together?” “are these good quality?”

you were excited. going thrifting was one of your favorite hobbies and to see heeseung taking such an interest in it was thrilling. you gave your opinions, always with a disclaimer that fashion is up to preference. he nodded along, processing your words. by the end of your thrifting trip, heeseung went home with a bundle of clothes to wear. the next day, he’d wake up earlier than normal to try and piece his new clothes together. he knew he wasn’t good at it. his friends let him know without reservations. hell, your friends let him know with their skeptical looks. it wasn’t until he talked to sunghoon in the gym that he got some actual constructive criticism.

“you’re taking an interest in fashion?”

“nothing crazy,” heeseung muttered, kicking the dust on the floor. “i just hate the comments y/n gets whenever her friends think i’m not listening.”

sunghoon looked at his gym buddy in pity. “look, man. if everything you’ve told me about your relationship is true, i don’t think y/n cares what you wear. she hasn’t in 3 years. what makes you think it’ll change all of a sudden?”

nothing. he didn’t doubt you. he just got sick at the thought of you having to listen to all those criticisms. so, sunghoon helped him. he showed him his pinterest moodboard and made heeseung swear to never tell anyone that’s how he chooses what to wear. after that informative session, heeseung got to work. he used your instagram feed as a reference, wanting to match your aesthetic, and created a moodboard inspired by it. using his pinterest board, he went thrifting by himself. he recalled the countless videos he watched while sorting through the clothes. cotton, not polyester. depending on the stain, you can get it out. tailoring is always an option when you find something that is a little too big!

he was very serious about his transformation. he even digitally scrapbooked the pictures of him in different clothes so he could be like cher in clueless. since then, his fashion started improving. your morning routines together changed ever so slightly with you telling him to spin for you. his heart warmed with every compliment you gave him.

“who is this diva?” “i feel very underdressed. i’m changing.” “are you getting dressed by law roach?” “you’ve been taking dress to impress a little seriously these days.”

heeseung’s confidence soared. now, he wasn’t ashamed to go out with you. your friends weren’t ashamed to be seen with him either. they even went as far as to compliment him! score! he’d gotten brownie points with your friends.

“finally, he’s dressing like a boyfriend fit to be with you, y/n.”

oh, that made you pull the brakes real fast. it completely escaped your mind how much your friends dissed your boyfriend (because you brushed them off as stupid comments). come to think of it, heeseung always did manage to miss the moments where they talked about him, but only by a minute or two. what if… what if he did hear those comments?

curious and worried, you asked him during your nightly routines. “hee, did… did you start dressing up for any particular reason?”

uh oh. heeseung hated lying to you; it physically pained him. so, he confessed. “i heard what your friends think of me and i didn’t want you to have to keep hearing them say things like that.”

“oh, baby, i’m so sorry you heard that,” you cooed. “i didn’t tell you because not even an atom of me agrees with them. i love you as you are, uni tees, basketball shorts and all.”

heeseung put down the moisturizer and looked down. “i know… i just wanted people to stop thinking we’re wrong for each other.”

you frowned and pulled him into a hug. “well, we know we’re perfect for each other. i’ve known it from the moment you started talking about the metrics of trot. i remember just nodding along and thinking how beautiful you were.”

heeseung blushed at your words. you always knew how to make him feel better.

“you don’t have to dress up for anyone but yourself, okay?”

he shook his head with a small smile. “i like matching with you. it’s fun.”

“well, i guess we really gotta dress to impress then,” you grinned, kissing his cheek.

with that, heeseung was reassured. no more pressure. he could just dress however he wanted (which was however you were dressing). but, his glow up didn’t stop there. no, he thought about a haircut. he wanted something that would shut your friends up forever. so, after scrolling forever on tiktok, he found that he liked a mullet with some face-framing pieces. he went and got it done at sunghoon’s trusted barbershop and came out a new man. he immediately sent you a picture, to which you responded, “don’t go anywhere. no errands. no grabbing food. come home. now.”

safe to say, you loved his new haircut. he loved his new haircut. he loved it even more when his friends and your friends couldn’t manage words. good. stay that way.

loser!heeseung was still a loser but, at least, he was in a hot man’s body with his very very attractive girlfriend. he still played league. he still larped. he still took the renaissance fair very seriously. he still loved you more than anything in the world. he was still your loser.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

[bunni-v1]

May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)

🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.

MDNI (I'll find u)

TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons

Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)

-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)

-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)

-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.

-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.

-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.

-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)

-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.

-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.

-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.

-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.

-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.

-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).

-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.

-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).

-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).

-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.

-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.

-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.

-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.

-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!

-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.

-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.

-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.

-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.

-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.

-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.

-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.

-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.

-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.

-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.

-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.

-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.

-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.

-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.

-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.

-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.

-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.

-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).

-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.

-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.

-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).

-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.

-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.

-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).

-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)

-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.

-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.

-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.

-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.

-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.

-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~

-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.

-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.

-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.

-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.

-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.

-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)

-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).

-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.

-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.

-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.

-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.

-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.

-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.

-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.

-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?

-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.

-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.

-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.

-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.

-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.

-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.

-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.

-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐚

request: OPEN

pairing: drew starkey x you ft brooke starkey

summary: when you and brooke decide to pull a prank on drew during a casual saturday lunch at his house, it’s all in good fun. drew’s protective streak as both a big brother to brooke and a boyfriend to you has always been one of his most endearing and amusing qualities. so, when you drop a casual bombshell about having a “male waxer” at the spa, drew’s reaction is priceless. shock, confusion, and hilariously protective instincts take over as he tries to process this unexpected bit of news.

warning(s): english is not my native language. light humor, playful pranks, and drew’s classic overprotective antics, no use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are very much appreciated. please be nice, thank you and enjoy.

Drew was in high spirits as he set the table for lunch, a relaxed grin on his face. He’d spent so many months on set for Outer Banks, and it was clear he was thrilled to unwind with the people he cared most about. Little did he know, you and Brooke were about to test just how protective he could get.

As you and Brooke shared a mischievous look across the table, you kicked off the prank.

“Hey, Brooke,” you began casually, glancing at Drew to see if he was listening, “thanks for recommending that spa the other day! It was, uh… an experience.”

“Oh, you finally went!” Brooke said, playing along perfectly.

“How was it? I told you they’re really good, right?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, they assigned me a guy for the wax. Super professional and all, but, you know, unexpected.”

Drew’s fork froze halfway to his mouth, his eyes snapping to you, wide with surprise.

“Wait… a guy? Like, for… the wax?” He looked genuinely baffled, trying to process this information.

You fought so hard keep your expression neutral, nodding casually.

“Yeah, he was great at it, honestly. Didn’t feel a thing. Super smooth process.”

Drew’s face morphed from confusion to full-on disbelief. He put his fork down slowly, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words.

“Wait… you mean… like a full wax? By a… guy? That’s even legal?”

You shrugged, pretending not to notice his growing panic. “Yeah! Brooke goes there too. And of course it was legal”

Brooke jumped in, barely able to suppress her grin.

“Oh, yeah, I get a guy a few time. They’re just more efficient, you know? Totally professional.”

Drew’s jaw practically dropped. He looked from Brooke to you, then back to Brooke, struggling to comprehend this new reality.

“Wait, Brooke… you, too? Both of you… by some random guy?”

You could see the protectiveness flaring in his eyes. Drew was always so protective of both of you, and he looked like he was about to burst with a mix of confusion, disbelief, and was that a hint of jealousy? not sure.

“Yeah, babe, it’s not a big deal,” you added, feigning nonchalance as you twirled your fork in your pasta.

“He was a total pro, super respectful.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed.

“Respectful or not, that’s still… strange, right?” He looked at Brooke, hoping she’d agree with him.

“I mean, you don’t think that’s, like… kind of weird?”

Brooke shook her head, acting entirely unbothered. “Nope. Honestly, it’s easier you know they don’t make a big deal out of anything, and they’re more… what’s the word; thorough.”

Drew looked absolutely bewildered, his eyes flicking between you and Brooke as if waiting for one of you to reveal it was all a joke.

“Wait… thorough? What… what does that even mean? And how is that not weird?” He turned to you, looking betrayed.

“And why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile.

“I mean, Drew, it’s a spa treatment, not a big deal. It’s not like I’d come home and say, ‘Hey, I got waxed by a guy today.’ with a very proud face on.”

“But maybe you should have!” Drew said, crossing his arms with a pout. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“Oh, come on,” Brooke teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t be so overprotective, Drew. It’s just a wax.”

Drew’s face was priceless with half annoyed, half helplessly confused.

“I’m not being overprotective, I’m just… I mean… come on!”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely baffled.

“This is just… I can’t believe both of you think this is totally fine.”

You and Brooke exchanged a glance, both struggling to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“Oh, Drew,” you sighed, leaning over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“He’s a professional. I didn’t even feel anything, it was so quick and easy.”

“‘Didn’t feel anything’?!” Drew repeated, looking even more scandalized.

“I don’t care if it was painless! It was still a guy, right? Like, a random guy?”

Brooke grinned, piling on, “Oh, he’s not random. I think his name was… Carlos?”

“Oh, mine was Vincent, he’s Italian by the way.” You said

Drew’s face turned red.

“Carlos?! and Vincent?! So he’s got a name now? You ladies on a first-name basis with these guy who… I mean…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts.

“Does this Carlos, Vincent know I exist?”

You bit your lip, feigning a thoughtful look. “Honestly, I didn’t mention you. But maybe next time?”

Drew groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Next time? Oh, come on, you’re kidding me.”

“Drew, calm down,” Brooke said, barely containing her laughter.

“We’re just trying to live our best, smooth-legged lives here. Can you blame us?”

Drew looked at her with an exasperated expression. “Yeah, but does that really have to include some guy named whatever his name is? You know, it’s kind of my job to protect you both from… well… guys like that!”

At that, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You and Brooke burst into laughter, doubling over as Drew continued to stare at you both in utter disbelief.

“Wait… are you two… Are you serious?” Drew asked, the realization slowly dawning on him as he watched you both laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh my god, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He continue, “Oh, yes you are, and it’s not fun ladies”

Through your laughter, you managed to say, “Yes, Drew! There’s no Carlos or Vincent! It’s a prank!”

Drew let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in his chair, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

“Oh, you two are evil. Seriously, I’ve been through a lot on set, and this is what I come home to?”

You wiped a tear from your eye, grinning. “Well, we missed you, so we thought we’d welcome you back with some… excitement.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head as he reached over to pull you into a playful hug.

“Excitement, huh? You know, payback’s coming for both of you. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, we’re ready,” Brooke teased, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Hit us with your best shot, Drew.”

Drew rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling.

“You two are lucky I love you, because if anyone else pulled something like that on me…” He shook his head, feigning a serious look.

“Carlos and Vincent, though? Really?”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “We knew that would get you. What a sexy name for a man”

“Yeah, well, it did,” he admitted, sighing as he gave you a playful squeeze.

“But next time, I’m not falling for it. Just so you know.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” you said, grinning.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hiya

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You walk with Andy towards the boutique. It feels strange. He doesn’t walk ahead of you like your mom always does, and you don’t have anything to drag with you. You still feel lost without the tank. You keep meaning to fix the tube only to find nothing more than your nose. 

He opens the door. You peek through the windows before you go through. It’s a nice place with curly lettering on the sign and colourful clothes on sleek black mannequins. You cling to your elbow as you look around at all the displays. 

“Hi, how are you doing today?” A young woman approaches you, all in black. She’s taller and slender and has wavy blond hair. “I’m Marlie. I can help you find anything you’re looking for.” 

“Oh, I don’t... I don’t know...” you murmur. 

Andy clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle. “Gotta be honest, I don’t either,” he says. “We’re a bit lost, I think. Clothes shopping.” 

“Right, well, you’re in the right place,” she smiles prettily. “We have all sorts here. Everything on trend. Any ideas? Inspo?” 

You look at Andy and his brows rise. He looks just as confused. “Um, how about, well, she likes Sabrina Carpenter.” 

“Ooo, me too,” she grins, “come with me, I’ll show you all the best pieces.” 

You can’t stop her before she has you by the hand. You glance back at Andy as he wears a sheepish expression. You remember what he said. Try to enjoy this. 

You look at Marlie. She’s probably around your age. You know she’s just doing her job but her demeanour makes her feel like a friend. 

She lets go of you and steps forward. She seizes a shirt from the table and unfolds it. “Hm, about your size.” She shows you the shirt; off the shoulder with a ruffle along the top. “That’s so cute.” 

“Oh, uh,” you touch your shoulders, “my bra...” 

“We sell strapless ones,” she offers. “But you don’t always need to wear one.” She pauses and peers toward Andy. You follow her gaze. He keeps his hands behind him as he leans in to check out the rack of sunglasses. He looks even more clueless than you. “If you think it’s okay with him.” 

“Oh, him?” You turn back to her. “I guess. He said... he said I could choose.” 

“Nice,” she shimmies excitedly, “I have so many ideas. 

She rushes around in a flurry as you trail her. She knows exactly where everything is. When she has an armful, she leads you into the back where the change rooms are. 

“I’ll let you try it all on.” She declares. “I’ve hung it in there for you, if you need help, there’s a bell inside.” 

“Oh, sure, I... thanks.” 

You’re not used to this. You were usually the one waiting outside the booth as your mom tried on her haul. You would sit on the bench and watch all the young girls like you; or not like you. They had friends. They were happy. 

You step in and close the door. You try on the first shirt and do your best to match it with a skirt. Neither cover you very much. The red checker halter matches the leather skirt with the zipper up the front. It’s nice but you’re not sure it’s for you. 

“Sweetie?” Andy’s voice makes you twitch. 

You spin and near the door. You put your hand on the clasp and hesitate. “Yeah? 

“You okay?” 

“Mhmm, I... I’m not sure about this.” 

“No? Well, why don’t you let me see? I’ll be honest,” he offers. 

Your eyes round. You don’t know if he should see you like this. It will be embarrassing if it looks bad. 

“Well, er, I don’t know if it fits. And I don’t... I don’t wear this stuff,” you say. 

“I’m sure you look great. How can I know if I don’t see?” 

You stare at your reflection in the door. He brought you here, he’s helping cover the cost for now, and he’s being so patient. Your mother would be screeching at you. 

You slide back the lock. Slowly, you pull the door inward and shuffle out. You keep your head down. He’s quiet. 

You feel his gaze crawling over you. The air turns stagnant. You squirm. 

“It looks bad,” you sniff. 

“Honey, it looks... wow. You look so nice. I mean, the clothes fit you really well.” 

You dare to peek up at him and lift your brows, “really?” 

“Oh, yeah. Really good,” his cheeks tinge pink above his beard. Is he lying? 

“I don’t... I never... this isn’t what I usually get.” 

“Right, but... did you pick your clothes or did you just take what she gave you?” 

You shrug, “I guess... what she gave me.” 

“It’s not what I like. How does it make you feel?” He asks. 

You sway and turn around. You look in the mirror. You blink at your reflection. Your eyes stray and find his. The clothes make you feel strange but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel better. Maybe you can be normal. You might even be pretty. 

Well... 

You reach up and touch your hair and frown. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks. 

You flick your lashes at the threat of tears. You shake it off. 

“Nothing, it’s just...” 

“We can go to a salon? If you need a trim. Oh, and I don’t know, I was going to ask. I don’t really know about these things. Stupid man and all. But makeup? There’s a store—not that I think you need it but... I don’t know. Whatever you want or need.” 

“Makeup? I don’t know...how.” 

“They have videos, if you want to learn. Or we can ask at the store. Only if you want to,” he says. 

You look at him and try to smile. “Andy, you’re not stupid. You’re too nice.” You lower your eyes. “I’ll do whatever. Maybe... just look around? See if it’s... if maybe...” you face him. “just look. Is that okay?” 

“Sweetie, all I want is for you to be happy.” He insists. “So, you tell me what to do.” 

💗

The makeup store is even more intimidating. Foolishly, you thought the boutique was the hard part. This is so much worse. It’s so busy and everyone there is so pretty and perfect. Girls with glossy lips look at tubes of colour and the associates in their all-black attire float like swans as they move between customers and discuss their products. 

You can’t breathe as you skirt along the front aisle, turning to peer through the windows and contemplate escape. Andy says your name and gently touches your sleeve, “you okay?” 

“Ummmmm,” you look at him then all around. “I don’t know what I’m looking for.” You bring your fingers up to drag down your cheeks, your anxiety mounting. “And I—I—I don’t look like them.” 

“Like who?” He asks. 

“Those girls—women. They... they know what they’re doing. Oh, Andy, I don’t know,” you flutter your fingers then tug on your hair nervously. “I need my oxygen.” 

“Sweetie, just... breathe, okay? In... out...” He coaxes as he rubs your shoulder. 

You take a breath in then let it out. You gulp. He did come all the way here. You wring your hands and nod. 

“I’m sorry, I... I’m not used to everything. I’m sorry. I’m... a loser.” 

“Sweetie, what did I tell you about talking like that?” He girds. “You’re not any of those things you keep saying. You’re a special girl and you deserve special things. Just because you don’t know something, doesn’t mean you can’t figure it out, right?” 

“I... I guess,” you tuck your hands into your sleeves and make fists. Your press your knuckles to your chin. 

“You okay to wait here? I’ll go look for help.” He squeezes your shoulder. 

“Um, um, um,” you blink at him. “Sure, I can... wait.” 

He rubs with his thumb and reluctantly pulls away. He turns and strides away. He’s so tall, he can see over the shelves so easy, and he’s undeterred by the crowds or the noise. He’s normal. He’s strong. You’re not. 

You spin and nearly knock into another customer. You back up and sidle along to the corner, staring at the bottles of floral perfume. It’s not just that you don’t belong here, you don’t belong anywhere. That’s all too clear. 

“Oh, hello, hon,” a trill voice chirps at you, “you need some help?” 

You turn at the tall brunette as she approaches. Andy is behind her. He keeps a distance and nods at you. He’s there if you need him. 

“I’m Tilly,” she introduces herself, “I hear you’re looking to start fresh.”  

You stare at her and scrunch your lips. You drop your hands to your sides, “yes. Thank you. I... I don’t know anything about... about make up.” 

“Oh, my, that’s alright! Figuring it all out is the fun part,” she beams as she claps her hands together. “But oh my gosh, look at your skin. You’ve got the perfect complexion. What do you use?” 

“Well, I... I... use vaseline on my lips, they chap because of... erm, I used to have an oxygen tube, so... I got all dry around my nose...” you babble and cringe. “I just use shea butter on my skin.” 

“Shea is wonderful,” she praises. “We have some products with it if you want to add to your regimen but whatever you’re doing is working.” 

Your chest tickles and you smile, cheeks bulbing tightly, “really?” 

“Oh, you have this glow. You are radiant,” she hums and taps her chin. “Makes me think you don’t need much.” 

“Right, er, well. I wouldn’t know how to... use any of it.” 

“I can show you. How about we try it out and see? I’ll grab a few products and put them on for you, then you can make up your mind.” She suggests. 

“That’s.... that’s not too much?” You sway. 

“No, hon, come on. Oh, I love this. I just adore getting to show people new things.” She points you along the next aisle, “now, I’m thinking you probably don’t need a foundation, but we’ll do a tinted moisturiser as a base, to give you a bit more highlight. A tine dash of blush. I think just a stick, no powder...” 

She leads you around the store, weaving up and down as she plucks up products. You’re lost even as she explains each one. She takes you to a chair near a mirror and has you sit down with your back to it. You climb up as she lays out the samples. 

“First, we’ll start with the moisturizer,” she instructs. She dabs it around your face and spreads it with a tear drop sponge. “So, you said you used to have oxygen. Were you sick?” 

“Oh... yeah. But I’m better now,” you frown. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. It’s never fun, is it? I’ve got diabetes, my monitors right here,” she points to her belt as she grabs the next product. 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes. But we live. We survive,” she smiles. “I grabbed this liner, it’s very creamy, you see, it goes on very easy and you just need a quick swipe.” 

“Okay,” you say. You follow her direction to close your eye. 

“That man you’re with,” she gently touches yours face to stretch your eyelid. “He’s very nice.” 

“Yeah,” you agree dully. 

“He seems very concerned. Says he want you to be happy so you tell me if you don’t like it, okay?” She switches eyes. 

“I will,” you promise. 

She continues as you try not to wince. You’re not used to being touched by anyone but the doctors; they’re always so clinical. Or your mother; she’s always rough. She’s not. She’s tender as the plies her expertise. 

“Now, you ready to see yourself?” She asks as she caps the lip gloss. 

You bat your lashes, getting used to the coating on your lashes, “sure.” 

She turns you to the mirror. You stare at yourself. You look... like you but like someone else too. You lean in as you take in the subtle but noticeable difference. You sit back slowly, silently, and your eyes stray around the mirror. 

Your gaze meets Andy’s as he stands across the store. He perks up and smiles. He crosses the main aisle as he gives a wave. 

“Well, what do you think?” Tilly asks. 

“I... I like it. It’s... not too much.” 

“Oh, like I said, you’re so naturally pretty,” she says. “I’ll get you full-sized products and meet you at the till. That good?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Oh, I loved it,” she assures you. 

She gathers up the samples and leaves you. Andy approaches and clears his throat. You look at him as his eyes scour you. You wilt beneath his gaze. 

“I... it’s too much?” You gesture to your face. 

He shakes his head then hits his chest with his fist, “ahem. I... sorry, sweetie. You look... you look so good you took my breath away.” 

You make a face then laugh. That’s such a silly joke. You shake your head. 

“It’s the truth,” he chuckles. 

“Andy, you don’t have to lie,” you insist as you slide forward on the chair. He steps past the mirror and offers his hand. You take it as you get down. “Thanks.” 

“I’m not lying. Sweetie,” he squeezes your hand before he lets go. “You look amazing. Once you get into some of your new clothes, I’m sure you’ll feel it.” 

“Oh, uh, maybe,” you curl your shoulders. “She said she was bringing everything to the counter.” 

“Right,” he reaches for his back pocket. 

“But if it’s too much--” you show your palms. 

“Nothing’s too much for you,” he grins and waves you toward the front of the store. “Come on.” 

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

[sigilcatt]

Hii

Sebastian x Reader where they don't have enough data so they just ask if they can pay w/ a kissy?

zomg this is so cute???

{reader is GN}

So far, the totality of this expedition sucked.

Signing up to fetch some stupid crystal for your freedom sounded like a flawless idea, sure. If you dismissed the plethora of creatures making an effort to kill you along the way. (Not like the people who sent you here cared, mind you.) You were chastised for any mistakes, even though they refused to even inform you about the opposing dangers to begin with. It was more of an…inconvenience if you happened to fail.

Regardless, between having to avoid possesed lockers, shadowy figures, and whatever those god-awful anglers were, you thought you were pretty damn good at this.

You’d managed to stay alive so far, approaching yet another door, this one marked “43.”

Hopefully this one would be easier than the last..

Gently slipping a thin, blue keycard inside the reader that had been installed into the door, waiting for it to hiss open with a scowl on your face. The door parted and swept aside, revealing yet another dark hallway before you.

Dammit, You thought with a groan, fumbling around in your bag to retrieve your flashlight. It was already low on juice, and of course, you had no batteries on you. Just your luck. Shaking it awake, the warm golden light illuminated the absolute mess of the corridor; large crates looked as if they’d been violently thrown across the room, one even appeared to have left minor damage to one of the many thick pipes lining the walls to your left.

Plus the considerable ragged clawmarks that laced the floor, but it was better to ignore those, no?

Taking a few deep breaths, you forced yourself to stray deeper into the space, your light scanning over each and every crevice. You weren’t about to risk letting anything jump out at you.

Except for the vent grille, apparently.

An earsplitting smash reverberated throughout the chambers as it rammed against the nearby wall, bouncing back for a mere second before collapsing onto the floor.

“What the hell-?!”

Out of shock, you dropped your flashlight, the generous amount of light you’d been given now gone as it rolled away from your feet. As you scrambled to pick it back up, a voice echoed through the vent opening.

“Got something for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at the small gap, quickly realizing who it was with frustation bubbling in your gut.

Sebastian. That 10ft sea monster that lingered around these areas, offering you useful supplies in exchange for data. You rolled your eyes with a sigh as you got on your knees, wincing with discomfort as you made your way through the vent to see him.

Of course it was him. Who else would it be? As much as he annoyed you with his unwarranted attitude and sass, he was still…nice to be around. Made things less lonely.

“Ah, you, welcome back.” He greeted, though of course laced his voice with sarcasm. “Really thought you’d be dead by now.”

“I’m more capable than you think, Seb,” You retorted, crossing your arms as you glared up at him, almost actually insulted he doubted you.

His long, grey, scaly tail sat curled against the wall, his selling items neatly attached to it. He scowled right back at you, demonstrating his usual toothy grin as his fins twitched slightly. “Sure.” He hissed softly.

You ignored him, browsing his wares with tired eyes. You approached his tail, ripping off a silvery flashlight and examining it. Without a second thought, you stuffed it into your bag and began to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian scoffed. Abruptly, his wide tail clasped over the vent opening, preventing you from leaving. “You haven’t paid. You must actually be stupid, huh?”

“You owe me!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms into the air. “You scared me and made me drop my first flashlight. Now its’ broken, thanks.”

“Oh dear, really?” Sebastian hissed, feigning concern in his voice.

You groan in frustration as the sarcasm hit you, yanking your bag open to find any data you’d collected along the way. You were hoping to get this interaction over with, if he was going to be this sassy.

“Oh..damn..”

You stared into your palms, which held a few scraps of data, some of which were even broken during your travels. Whatever it was, you definetly did not carry enough to afford anything.

Sebastian laughed softly, seemingly observing this as well. “Too bad, then. That’s really embarrassing, I might add.”

“Wait, seriously?!” You clamored, desperate to leave here with something. “I can figure something out!”

“We had a deal. One you agreed to, in case you forgot. Either you pay, or you get nothing, sweetheart.” He added the taunting nickname with a scoff, reaching to take your bag from you.

You leapt away, knowing he’d tear it to pieces with his claws, even if he was trying to be gentle. Which he wasn’t, of course, but still.

“Wait, wait, I can-” You protested. An idea struck you suddenly. Not a very easy one, but it was something, at least. Oh well, what did you have to lose besides your life and freedom?

Sebastian pulled his hand away, narrow eyes boring into you as he waited for you to finish.

“How would you feel about some sort of…romantic gesture? Like, I don’t know, a fucking kiss or something?” You offered, preparing to be screamed out of the room.

But, to your surprise, that didn’t happen. He simply kept that narrow-eyed glare. At first, you thought he might not have heard you, so you drew in a breath to speak again. “I mean, come on. You think I can’t tell you at least like my presence a little? You’ve given me discounts and let me just sleep in here whenever.”

It was silent for a minute. The events you’d listed were true, however. You could recall moments when you’d just been so drained that he reluctantly allowed you to use his tail as some sort of pillow to rest with, along with the discounts on items he claimed were just him being in a “good mood” at the time.

“That desperate, are we?” Sebastian laughed, his voice yanking you out of your daydreams. He thought on your proposal for a few agonizingly long seconds before letting out a deep sigh. “…Fine.”

You let out a breath you didnt know you’d been holding, practically gripping your newfound flashlight as if it were your only lifesource. (It might as well be, considering your conditions, honestly..)

You opened your mouth to continue, though all that escaped you was a startled gasp as Sebastian lifted you off the ground. Cold, sharp claws grasped onto you with a gentleness you didn’t know he was capable of as he held you, level to his scaly face.

Your hands grabbed onto whatever part of his claws you could in order to keep yourself from falling as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“So?” He remarked with a frown. You cleared your throat with a deep breath. “Right..”

You leaned in further, pushing your hands against the side of his face as support before pressing your lips against him. Your body seemed to heat up as you did so, finding an odd sense of comfort as you let it linger for a few extra seconds.

“Mmh.” A satisfied hum escaped Sebastian as he gently curled his claws further around your body. Though the fear of falling wasn’t an issue for you right now. All you could seem to think about was the current situation, and the way it made you feel.

Eventually, you pulled away, wiping your mouth as you cleared your throat. You stared up at him, taking in the slight smirk being thrown your way.

“Good enough for you?” You asked, your voice softer than usual.

“Very,” He sighed, placing you down carefully. Your legs trembled as your feet finally touched the ground, due to the being held midair like that, and also maybe the fact that you had just kissed a sea creature you were told to avoid at all costs.

You tightened the hold on your flashlight as you stared off into space, thinking on your recent actions. Of course it earned you something, but holy shit.

In an attempt to take your mind off this, you sat down, arms wrapped around your legs as the lack of energy finally got to you. Sitting against the wall, you let out a sigh.

“Could I stay for a bit?”

“…For a few hours.” Sebastian exhaled, arms crossed as he glanced down at you.

You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’ as you let the well-deserved sensation of rest overcome you.

This was going to be an odd story to tell when you got back.

so sorry if this is shit, /gen , I haven’t written in forever , plus im much better with hcs 💔

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE so i didnt send the shy remus x reader ask but i saw that u wanted ideas and i had one. what about reader who's very cocky and like confident and stuff and remus is intimidated by her usually but then theyre at a party or smth and shes all drunk and shes all over him telling him stuff like how shes got the biggest crush on him or like how hes genuinely one of the most attractive people shes ever met and shy remus is js like 😳 while also taking care of her bc shes so drunk and simultaneously trying not to combust

Hi my love, thank you so much for your request!

cw: alcohol

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Really, it should be Sirius’ responsibility to look after you. It is his party, after all. But Sirius has a love for delegating unwanted tasks and also a love for meddling (which Remus theorizes he got at least partly from James). So, naturally, you’re in Remus’ lap. 

“You guys are so nice,” you croon, words strung together like cursive and fingers toying with a loose thread of Remus’ sweater. He’s resigned himself to letting you unravel the whole thing without complaint. “All of you, all your friends are the nicest…the warmest people I ever knew. How’d you do that?” 

Remus smiles down at you. “I think James has always been good at bringing out the best in people.” 

He’s not entirely sure how you came to be lying on your back on the couch, your head on Remus’ thigh and your hands reaching for the dangling thread above you like a cat enjoying some lazy play. If he asked you, Remus doesn’t think you’d know, either. It makes a lovely view for him, your eyes uptilted in his direction and features relaxed and unguarded as a result of the series of tequila shots Sirius had cajoled you into not realizing you’d already had a few drinks. Remus very much enjoys having you this close and being able to look at you so casually, even if your brassy, larger-than-life demeanor often terrifies as much as impresses him. Even if your head on his thigh makes his face feel like a fire hazard. 

“Don’t think he had to work very hard with you. You’re such a sweetheart already.” You say it so simply, an obvious truth, and Remus finds himself staying perfectly still like a rabbit in the woods that thinks it might yet escape your notice. His heartbeat pitters in everywhere from his cheeks to his fingertips. He worries he’s going to have to make a response, but your eyes widen suddenly. “Oh! Sit still.” 

No problems there. Remus moves only his eyes as you sit up from his lap, tucking your feet underneath you and reaching for him with your lip trapped between your teeth in concentration. You touch a fingertip to his cheek and smile victoriously. 

“Got it.” You turn your finger, showing him. “You had an eyelash.” You blow it off your fingertip and onto Sirius’ rug. Remus marvels at the unthinking loveliness of you. “Have I talked to you about your eyes before?” you ask conversationally. 

Remus blinks, ceasing his tracking of the eyelash to look at you. “I don’t think so,” he ventures, though he knows you haven’t. He remembers most exchanges you’ve had, and he definitely would have remembered that. 

“Oh.” Your brows purse softly. “Must’ve been with someone else,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “Anyway, it’s important to me that you know, they’re really beautiful.” 

Remus startles, partly at the compliment but mostly at the touch you lay on his cheek, your fingers cool and gentle, like you’re steadying his face for your perusal. You look into his eyes attentively. 

“They’re brown,” Remus says in a soft voice. 

Your lips tilt like he’s said something funny. “Nobody’s eyes are just brown, Remus. There are so many different kinds.” Your index finger draws a short line across his cheekbone. Remus can’t tell you mean for it to or not. “Yours are sort of like a…like a gradient. They get lighter farther down.” 

Remus decides to study your eyes as you study his, and he sees what you mean. The shadow of your lashes makes your irises look darker at the tops. It’s difficult to tell, though, with your pupils eclipsing so much of them. 

“They’re, like, a warmish brown,” you’re saying, gaze unwavering. “Like the color you want your tea to be. You know, there’s some fact or study or something that says brown eyes make people feel safe. Did you know that?” 

“I didn’t,” Remus says. The weight of your attention is taking its toll on him, his body aching to sink into the couch cushions. He wants to ask if brown eyes have that effect on you, but he doesn’t have the nerve. “Is that so?” he asks instead.

You shrug. “I dunno. Works on me.” 

The breath stalls in Remus’ lungs. You’re looking at him like you haven’t said anything out of the ordinary, expression wide open and somewhat unfocused. 

You yawn, removing your hand from his face to half cover your mouth. It’s an awfully endearing show, and over too fast. ��I guess that’s probably why—” You cut yourself off with a hiccup. Your eyes flare like you weren’t expecting it, hand jumping back up in front of your mouth. Remus grins before he can stop himself. 

“Oh.” Your smile is an afterthought, a response to his. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Remus isn’t even certain what you’re apologizing for. 

Your eyes have that sweet, attentive look again. “I really like when you smile.” 

Remus feels heat spread up to the tips of his ears. It’s official. He’s got more in common with a live flame than a human anymore. “What were you saying?” he prompts. 

You bite your lip as though you’ve forgotten. “Oh!” Your eyes light. “Just, I guess that’s probably why I have such a giant crush on you.” 

Remus’ heart thuds. He breathes, “What?” 

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes, grinning at yourself. “It’s relentless.” Hiccup. “Super embarrassing. But—but you’ve got those eyes, and your freckles, and that sweetheart face…” You shrug again, helpless. Ride out another hiccup. “What am I supposed to do?” 

Remus stares at you. It seems impossible. You have a crush on him? It’s out of the natural order. The world’s gone to chaos. It’s supposed to be the other way around! Remus pines silently after you, you eventually find some big, cocksure bloke who can match you, and Remus continues to pine whilst you go on with your brilliant, dazzling life. That’s the way it’s meant to be. 

“I would…” Remus finds his mouth forming around words he doesn’t recognize until they come out. “I’d know a thing or two about a crush like that.” 

Your lips part, but you don’t look offended. “Well, yeah. I’d hope you knew I fancied you, I’ve only been seeking you out ever since we met.” 

Not what he meant. Remus did not, in fact, know that. 

“I didn’t notice you were,” he admits. 

Your head tilts. “Really?” There’s an obvious follow up question—then what did you mean just now?—but for one reason or another, you don’t ask it. You only lean onto his shoulder, your head slipping a few inches down his arm.

Remus channels all his bravery into an arm around your waist to keep you from slumping further. He vows to himself to tell you tomorrow.

[sooniebby]

an idea; a (bottom) male reader who’s apart of an indie jpop boy group. The members are just you, a childhood friend, and three other people you met through college/random events. Your group was lucky one of the members comes from a rich family that doesn’t mind spending some money to help you guys out—waiting until a company finds interest and asks to manage you.

The first month or so is rough so you all find part time jobs in the mean time. But regular jobs just don’t interest you so it takes you awhile to even apply for any… mostly getting fired after the first week or so because you end up showing late all the time.

You’re left wondering what to do when you come across a website of camboys and camgirls. Some of them show full nudity while others stay dressed for the most part.

It intrigues you enough but you don’t do it without running it through your members. They’re mostly shocked you even want to do that… but other than that, they just tell you to not speak and wear a mask.

Easy peasy. You chose a simple and almost silly name, “Shy Usagi” since your mask resembled a rabbit.

The first stream is awkward, you had to figure out a way to talk. Surprisingly, a few of the people that dropped in were intrigued by your refusal to talk. You had expected them to immediately want you naked but it seemed you attracted people that liked the teasing aspect of camboys.

Though you were 99% sure it was only men watching you. The first few weeks, you only wore skimpy clothing and did anything they requested. The most sexual thing you did was suck a dildo.

Occasionally you’d masturbate on live and that would always garner more attention. But there was always one person who would tip you no matter the stream.

“Hitachikoi”

You were sure he was probably an old man but you didn’t care, money was money. He knew how to flirt so you never felt weirded out with his attention.

Things were going reasonably well until after your group’s performance at a little festival. You had spilt away for a second to look around when you bumped into someone. He had his face covered with a mask and baseball cap.

You were going to apologize and go about your way when you caught that he was holding a poster of your group. He didn’t say anything as he simply held up a marker.

It took a second before you finally realized what he wanted. “Oh! Sure.” You were a bit excited, having never really signed anything before. Your signature was a bit messy but still legible.

“Here you go, thanks for coming to see us!”

“I only came to see you.”

“Hm?” You leaned in closer, wondering if you had heard him right. Only you?

The man let out a laugh as he reached up and pulled down his mask, leaning down so you could get a clear look at his face. “Mhm. Only you… (Name)… or ah,”

His hand reached up and cupped your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. It was only when he pulled off his cap that you got a good look at his face.

He… he wasn’t some random guy. He was a famous actor… a famous actor knew about you?

“Shy Usagi? It’s nice to see your entire face… that mask never hid your lips.”

You could stare as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. The only thing you were thinking of was if he was about to ruin your career before it even took off? But why would he care? Why was he even—

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. Someone like you isn’t made to think so hard,” he said, a slight frown on his lips. “I just, well I got tired of watching behind a screen. I wanted to touch you…”

His other hand moved to rest on your hip, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“To be inside of you instead of that dildo… I mean, I’m paying you so much money, it’s only fair I get to have you, right? Mhm? I can have you, yea? I’ve thought of fucking your mouth for days now.”

“(Name)! Where are you?”

He pulled away, rolling his eyes. You only watched as he slipped back on his mask and cap, pulling your shirt back down. “You’ll stream tonight.” He said, as if he was giving you an order, not asking.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Wear something red tonight… that’s my favorite color.”

With that he left you standing there, mouth agape just as one of your members walked over to you.

You… were so fucking screwed.

In more ways than one.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @secretivemessenger @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tehyunnie @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @tomoeroi @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @anchoredphoenix @yuzuukix @bensontrechic

I already made a face claim lol.



[munsonsmixtapes]

Gotta Get Home to My Girl

rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

Eddie is never able to shut the fuck up about you.

The boys take their seats and everyone besides Eddie are mentally preparing themselves for what they know is to come. But how long is it going to take this time? The most recent record for how quickly Eddie was able to mention you in a sentence without being asked was less than a minute. 

“Oh, y/n has those shoes,” he’d said as soon as the interviewer sat down. She just nodded and then got him talking about you for the next five minutes. 

And that’s the thing, he uses your first name and everyone just knows who he’s talking about. He uses your name and “my girl” interchangeably and it’s assumed who he’s talking about. 

The guys love you, of course they do, how could they not? But that man will never ever fucking shut up about you so it’s gotten to a point where if he brings you up first, he’s got to put a fiver in the jar that they’ve brought along with them. 

The promo tour for their new album has barely even started and now there’s almost two hundred dollars in there because he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut. 

But that’s not stopping Eddie at all. He’s happily paying the money and will continue to talk about you as much as he damn well pleases. 

He just can’t help it. He loves you so much that he thinks that everyone wants to hear about you just as much as he wants to talk about you, not even noticing if they aren’t interested because he’s so caught up in gushing or bragging about you. He’s so down bad and doesn’t even care about how much of a simp he comes off as. 

You’re his girl, the thing that he thinks about all the time. No matter what’s going on, there’s going to be something that inevitably reminds him of you so he’s gotta mention because he’s certain that everyone wants to know. 

It’s gotten so bad that there are multiple compilations of him yapping away about you for however many minutes and the thing is, every single one has millions of views and that majority of comments are positive except for a select few that aren’t so nice. But that’s every video about anything, isn’t it? 

And the funny thing is, he knows that you watch them. Especially when you miss him and can’t speak to him at that moment. Because the love that he has for you is absolutely reciprocated and you know you’d be the same if the roles were reversed and you were the famous one. The multiple years that you’ve been together have all been one big honeymoon phase and neither of you care that people are rolling your eyes, saying that it’s cringey. Because deep down, you know that they’re just jealous. 

“I like your shirt,” the interviewer compliments and Eddie looks down, smiling at the shirt once he recognizes what it is. It’s one of the many band t-shirts he wears often. 

“Oh, thank you,” he smirks and just by seeing it, the boys know exactly what he’s going to say. “It belongs to my girl.” When he’s packing to go away, he makes sure that you throw in a few of your own shirts, making sure to spray them with your perfume so he can smell it when he especially misses you. 

“Do you share clothes often?” She asks and Eddie’s smile widens as the boys are shaking their heads. There goes another five dollars. It’s such easy money. 

“Oh, all the time,” Eddie nods. “Especially when I’m away. I like having a piece of her everywhere I go.” He’s actually counting down the hours until he can see you tonight, having trouble sitting still, like an excited puppy who can’t wait to see its owner. 

“That’s so sweet,” she replies, her smile matching Eddie’s. “So, let’s talk about the album.”

“Yes, let’s,” Gareth speaks up, nudging Eddie in the arm. That is the reason why they’re there, isn’t it? 

Eddie’s actually on his best behavior throughout the entire interview, not mentioning you again until the singular song about you that’s on the album is mentioned. He talks about it for the rest of the interview, which is actually only five minutes, but he could easily talk about it for hours. Well, he could talk about anything involving you for that long. 

They get on a plane after that and Eddie’s going through everything like it’s a race. TSA is so quick and boarding the plane goes by in a flash. He blinks and he’s grabbing his luggage from the baggage claim. When he blinks again, he’s in a cab on the way to the apartment that the two of you share. 

He’s now going up the elevator and as soon as the doors open on the correct floor, he’s running to the door with his suitcase dragging behind him. He doesn’t care if it’s close to midnight and all of his neighbors are probably sleeping. He’s got to get to you as quickly as possible. 

He unlocks the door and as soon as he steps inside, he sees you in the kitchen, making something on the stove. When you turn around, your face lights up and you immediately drop your spoon in the pot, making a beeline over to Eddie. 

He scoops you up into his arms and your legs wrap around his waist as you bury your face into his neck. You’re squeezing each other tight and he’s giggling as you pepper his face with kisses like you always do when he comes home. It’s his favorite part of the whole thing. 

“I missed you,” you tell him as sets you back on your feet, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips are cold because of the temperature outside but he knows you’ll warm him up with a cuddle. 

“Missed you too, baby,” he sighs as you take him by the hand and lead him into the kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him. You pile the pasta into a bowl and hand it to him along with a bottle of his favorite beer. 

After you’ve both eaten, you head to your bedroom where you both get dressed for bed and climb into it, cuddling up under the covers, telling each other about what you did while away from each other while a rerun of your favorite show plays on the tv. And it’s there that Eddie decides that there’s nowhere he’d rather be. He’s got his girl and that’s all he’ll ever need for the rest of his life.